For me, that unlikely place is my workplace. Unlikely because everything is driven by results and deadlines, so there’s not a lot of room in the day for drifting off in thought.

I had a phone meeting (with coworkers who were sitting, literally, steps away from me) about making some deep changes to some of our established work processes, and afterward I came away with a feeling that I’d stumbled on to something pretty fundamental to my own method of working and, indeed, living.

In the meeting, as a joke, I’d remarked that we would be better off wiping everything clean and starting totally fresh. Our processes tend toward the byzantine because we have a few members of our group who get rather loud and obnoxious when presented with change. I, by contrast, tend to have no sympathy at all for such folk, and I find myself playing joyfully close to the nerve in suggesting radical or even catastrophic change.

After the meeting, I realized such chaotic joy wasn’t just me making light. I found myself feeling fairly ecstatic about the prospect of chucking everything out the window and starting totally anew. Indeed, I couldn’t help chuckling to myself such that my boss asked me in her semi-concerned voice what I was up to.

There’s no mistaking it: Change hurts. It’s violent and it’s hard to do well. It’s hard to be yourself when you’re in the midst of change and it’s even harder to be around others. Our brains fix themselves on survival and so it’s difficult indeed to carry on a decent conversation when all you feel like doing is curling up in a ball.

But with all that, there’s freedom. And I think this is the part that makes me excited. Change makes impermanent that which we were sure would exist forever. As the book of our lives is written, the ink fades on those early pages as we become less and less of who we were then. Sometimes this is disturbing, because we like knowing we have history. But after that, there’s excitement in knowing that new history is yet to be written. Exciting to think about what to fill the next empty page with.

It’s interesting that I would feel this way because I was brought up to cherish security, routine. Indeed, change was typically a bad thing even if the event itself was supposed to be good. For example, having a baby is generally seen as a good thing, but the wholesale change the event introduces lasts for years, which is not so good. For good or ill, I was raised to perceive change as like ripples that could potentially capsize the boat of my life, transform into waves and drown me. So, if change did occur, I had to stop the rippling as quickly as possible. That’s how responsible people handle change, after all. They work their entire lives to upgrade from the dinghy they were born with to, finally, the battleship they retire on. Because, a solid steel battleship with massive gun turrets of financial security can handle most any change, right?

Anyone who knows the story of my life knows that assumption hasn’t worked out well. My life has been filled to brimming with change, as most lives are. I’ve never been able to control the rippling and I’ve all but given up trying to. The whole battleship upgrading game, I’ve decided, doesn’t apply to me simply because it’s based on the assumption of no change happening, ever, in the process.

As I get older, I find that:

• Change is normal.
• Radical or catastrophic change is the rule rather than the exception.
• Living your life as if you’re in a lovely little bubble where the value of everything always increases is delusional at best and dangerous at worst.

Knowing all this makes me blanch a bit when I think about it for too long.  But I understand I can’t insulate myself from it — at least, not like my parents did. Indeed, sometimes it gets to a point where the only thing to do is figure out how to love it.

So, that’s what I’m trying to do, now that the year is nearly at an end and I feel the vibrations of some fairly big changes approaching. When I think about the worst-case scenario (losing everything such that I have to live in my car for an extended period of time), it’s not truly the worst thing that can happen (like, dying). It just feels like it because it really, REALLY sucks to feel failure and start over completely.

Of course, I still reserve the right, as Julian says, to freak out from time to time. But those spurts of grave insecurity are, I think, shorter and less intense now, as I become better friends with radical change.

And they’re nothing that a few hours of intense knitting can’t put right.

Of course, that’s not how I do my Sundays, though I do have some ritual. For me, Sunday is not really Sunday until I read my weekly Post Secret RSS feed. It only takes me about 10 minutes to read, but it feeds my postal voyeurism and I enjoy looking forward to it. And I try to do nothing on this day, but usually Sunday is another chance to get home stuff done before the coming week makes havoc of my effort. So, most of the time, Sunday is just like Saturday.

Anyway, my point is, we all do Sundays differently, but regardless of the differences, it’s still Sunday. So, too, I believe, with doing D/s.

Generally speaking, alt community folk like to talk a lot about doing your own thing, making a kink your own. But when someone starts asking for advice about dealing with problems that arise, the consensus often looks like “You’re not doing it right.” Uh, ok.

That kinda sounds like a mixed message, doesn’t it? Could there really be a “right way” of doing D/s?

I think so, but not in any prescriptive way. Indeed, I believe the “right way” is different for everyone and that success in implementing that “right way” is directly proportional to the amount of self-knowledge one has and inner work one puts in.

In a way, I actually think that doing D/s well is more of a spiritual path than a lifestyle. For me, there seems to be a fundamental match between who I am and my kink. Indeed, my kink grows from who I am, what I want, and what I absolutely cannot tolerate under any circumstances. I was the way I am before I ever knew there were terms for it. And while the terms make it (slightly) easier to talk about myself, they don’t define me.

I also think D/s involves a certain level of pragmatism. As someone who works a lot with engineers, I’ve had to learn to deal with this to do my job. That is, you build something to solve a problem, and if it works, it’s a win. It doesn’t matter if it works perfectly, or even smoothly. It works — mission accomplished, have a beer. Getting it working better is something you do later, over time, once you’ve had a chance to beat it up and run it off the road a while. And in the background, there’s always the real possibility that there will be something that will never, ever work like you want it to, no matter what you do.

If there is a right way to do D/s, that would be it. Do whatever works for you, and only you. There are no rules and it’s never going to be perfect, but you’re happy. So, you win.

Have a beer.

So, today, I read this article in the Buffalo News, a long-winded, slightly bookish toast to Hitchens, and it referenced what is perhaps one of his most controversial cultural articles (in the US, anyway), “Why Women Aren’t Funny.”

On the face of it, I couldn’t help but agree with the literal title. The number of successful comediennes or even truly funny women is likely a tenth of the population of funny folk in general. On the plus side, this means that every funny woman you’ve ever encountered, you’re likely to remember for the rest of your life. It’s not that women are dour by default. It’s that women are free to use humor as one tool in a vast collection of devices to make themselves and others feel good and enjoy life.  Being funny is hard because there’s a high degree of uncertainty that your funny will match that of your audience (or target). Why be funny if you can achieve your objective through other, surer means?

And this is the point of Hitchens’ article.  Assuming heterosexuality, men have to be funny in order to get laid by women. Women, appealing by default, don’t have that pressure. In terms of securing sex, men have to work at it — like, really work at it. Women have to show up.

When the article first appeared in Vanity Fair, there was a fair bit of static because people were making the premature leap of “Women aren’t funny, and they can’t hope to be.” Had they actually thought about the article as a whole, they’d have arrived at the conclusion that the only person Hitchens was denigrating was himself, as a male human. Men have to perform all sorts of gymnastics in order to persuade women to participate in something that has an indeterminate duration and no universally-accepted standard of quality. Why? Because women hold the power of contract. And, in Hitchens’ view, that is how it should be. If the opposite were true, sex wouldn’t be nearly as good or life-affirming as it is.

Having recently re-read the original article, I can’t help but agree once again with Hitchens’ premise. Men really do have the short end of the stick when it comes to humor. It’s not that men aren’t funny or that they’re inherently laughable. It’s that so many men try so very hard to be funny. Very often, too hard. And very often, they fail. Like, crash-and-burn fail. Fail with a capital F.

I wonder if this is because well-made humor is not only highly intellectual, but highly verbal. Men, being primarily visual creatures, seem more likely to stumble in the verbal realm than women, who are primarily verbal creatures. And so, when a man successfully achieves “funny” — especially “damn funny” or the high-end of “hilarious” — the woman on the receiving end of that labor seems to crumble in relief as she rewards him with her smiling laughter, encouraging him further. In laughter, she opens a little, her body relaxes, and her spirit becoming slightly more receptive to eventual intimate contact.

Of course, the first volley is setup, and this is where most men shine. However, it also sets a standard (and on the woman’s part, expectation). Tickle a woman’s mind well and early and, as a man, you’re in for a hell of a march.

And here is where failure is practically imminent. Rewarded by a woman’s (preliminary) genuine laughter, a man chooses one of two paths: overconfidence or overwork. In overconfidence, he decides his work is done and he can now float along toward what he now considers certain coitus. In overwork, he can’t believe his good luck and tries to reproduce his success with even greater effort. In both cases, they miss their targets completely and the women they sought to impress remain closed to them in every way.

Rarely does a man notice a third, more cyclical path. A witty remark leads to a clever turn of phrase which leads to a very amusing observation, then tapers off a bit to another gently witty remark…over and over again until there is no choice for a woman but to laugh, and laugh, and laugh until she is well and truly open and ready for…

…

Hmmm… does this sound familiar to anyone?

Of course, if you’ve read Hitchens for any length of time, it becomes evident that he’s a fan of sexually-flavored prose. Knowing that, I’m given to comprehend his “Why Women Aren’t Funny” article not as a treatise denigrating women or men, but as an acknowledgement that “funny” is sexual — good and necessary and inherently positive. The energy to laugh genuinely and robustly is sexual energy, a fundamental response to someone touching us at our core. And if someone wants to get that close to us, they better be prepared to work, and damn well at that.

When it comes to “funny,” no one gets to be lazy or clumsy and the best get fucked.

I want to be a writer of non-fiction.

One might argue that I am already a writer of non-fiction since I work for a company writing procedures and explaining how stuff works. But I think what I really mean by this desire is that I want to write good non-fiction. And I say “good non-fiction” because what I write for the Company Man is crap. Indeed, when I consider the conditions that I routinely write under, my output can’t help but be crap. And when I explain to my so-called superiors that our content could be less crappy if we could do X & Y & Z, I get amazed looks and the question “You think our work here is crap?” Because, you know, we all work hard and we all do our best every single day, so naturally everything we produce is gold. Whatever. I shit things that are more useful that what my company has delivered to the public. The reason an aftermarket exists for what we write is because what we write is crap. The reason people read the even more crappily written corporate blog posts, knowledgebase articles, and 3rd party web sites before they even think of reading what we’ve written, is because what we’ve written is crap. End of story.

So, I want to write good non-fiction. And I want to write it my way, on my terms, without permission and without running any approval gauntlets. Naturally, this can’t be my sole source of income, but if I don’t do this like I want, then I don’t think I can legitimately call myself a writer. At least, not anymore.

I want to become proficient in calligraphy.

The art of words is more than just being able to construct a pleasing sentence or a compelling plotline. There is the visual aspect of the words on the page that contributes to the impact of the words themselves. Cultures develop calligraphic lettering because they recognize that word shapes are as meaningful as the concepts and ideas the words represent. Islamic calligraphy is especially notable here due to the religion’s strictures on art and art making.

I don’t know if there is a singularly compelling reason why I want this, one reason above all others. I want to make some sort of art; I love words; and I used to be good at it when I was younger. I think words are beautiful anyway, but even more so when they are beautifully rendered. I would love to get good enough where I could do custom work for hire. Or, perhaps produce handcrafted reproductions of antique works, or maybe even write original works in handbound volumes. What might someone pay for a beautifully rendered, handbound copy of Greek poetry? Or a Book of Hours in Latin? Perhaps not enough, but it would be fun doing it anyway.

I want to make something and sell it.

This sort of goes hand-in-hand with being proficient in calligraphy. Basically, I want to envision something in my mind and make it real with my hands. And then I want someone to appreciate it and give me money to own it. I know that last bit will be something of a stretch, because most things I’ve thought of so far aren’t things lots of people would pay for. Or at least, they aren’t things that people would pay a lot for, even in a good economy. However, I do have a couple of ideas yet, so maybe I’ll get lucky.

This desire sort of gets to the heart of why I am so utterly dissatisfied with my current work. I’m at the point now where I don’t touch anything real anymore. All the content I write goes online. All the stuff I write about is essentially made of zeros and ones. When I talk to people, it’s through email or Twitter or IM. I don’t hear their voices or see their faces. And the people I write for, I’m not allowed to talk to them or make myself available for them to contact.

I just want to do something real, for a change. I want to be able to make something myself and put it in someone’s hands. The therapy of being able to do that and get paid something for it would be invaluable for me.

I want to live simply.

My mind keeps returning to this notion of simplicity and paring down and I think it’s largely due to my romantic notions of living an ascetic life. Throughout my life I’ve envisioned myself as like a monk, copying manuscripts in some lonely room, my wealth in books and papers piled around me, cocooning me in rigor and safety.

Of course, I’ve not been able to actually live like that. I like my creature comforts — my chocolate, my tea, my warm blankets, my darling books, and comfortable clothes. And I like money. But I know money isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, especially when earning it involves burying yourself for the benefit of others who don’t care anything at all about you. I think there’s a better way to earn at least enough to be reasonably comfortable, if not well-off. And I think it starts with understanding what matters the most to you.

So, I want to live more in tune with my own values. That might mean a sparser existence but I’m ok with that. I’m just done with trading my physical and mental freedom for membership in an abstracted mass hallucination.

I want to travel.

Living simply dovetails into my desire to travel because, for most of my life, I’ve wanted to be a nomad. My career has been somewhat nomadic in that, in my 20+ years of working, I’ve had only one job that lasted more than 2 years. But that’s not really what I mean by nomadic.

When one is a traveller, one is bound only by what one can carry. One discovers quickly that which is truly important and that which isn’t. And one understands better that the world isn’t nearly as small or as hopeless as one imagines or hears about.

I’m tired of feeling like I’m stuck on the periphery, and I want to feel again like I am part of the world, as I did when I first travelled abroad back in the 20th Century.

That’s what I want, and I’m going to have it. It’s going to take me the rest of my life, but I will have it.

All of it and more.

The title of his write-up rather tickled me, so I stole borrowed it for a note of my own. We had been talking earlier of what we each of us want, very generally speaking, and how one eventually has to put out very specific calls to the universe in order to focus intention and actually do something to attain one’s desires. And in the process of talking, some very specific calls came into my mind. I emailed them to him under that ticklish subject line, but he bade me post here about them as well.

And as I am an obedient Treasure, herewith is evidence of my compliance.

Earlier in my life, when I had occasion to think about “what I want” — whether out of life in general, out of my career, out of my relationships, etc. — I’ve thought in fairly abstract terms and I’ve typically failed to attach any deadline or timeframe attached to these desires. And in the crush of the quotidian, many of them were quickly forgotten, replaced by other, more urgent matters.

Years later, when I had a brief moment to again entertain the “what do I want” question, I’ve found myself at such a loss that consideration seemed nonsensical. One of those “does not compute” moments where my brain throws up its hands and says “We will think about this later,” where “later” is code for “12th of Never.”

Eventually, in fits and starts, I made some sense of the question. Sometimes I’d hear a faint “click” and realize I discovered something I wanted. Or I’d read about something and a deep forgotten longing would well up inside me, pining for the day when it would be happily satisfied, spurring me to immerse myself in information and fantasy. At first, these occurrences seemed totally random and, therefore, not to be taken seriously. After a while they would go away, but they would come back. Indeed, it seemed like that was my way: I’d fall in love with an idea, read and dream about it, and then forget about it. After all, if they were important, they’d force me to do something, right? If I deemed them important, I’d have done them already, right? I was just being flighty and frivolous and should just focus on what’s ahead of me, right?

Well, it seems the universe isn’t into that kind of force. After all, it has all the time in the world — hell, it is all the time in the world. And as far as what’s “important,” the universe isn’t into such value judgements. Desires, ideas — they just are, and that’s all.

For me, that’s been tremendously comforting: to know the universe doesn’t really “care” in the way we expect other humans to care, but that it reflects our intention if we focus enough and actually do something.

Anyway, all this to say, I’m taking this opportunity to proclaim “This is what I want, and I will have it.”

• I want to be a writer of non-fiction.
• I want to become proficient in calligraphy.
• I want to make something and sell it.
• I want to live simply.
• I want to travel.

Next: List details.

Lesson 17. The collar

Per Miss Abernathy, “The collar is the symbol par excellence of slavehood. It is an outward symbol of your state of servitude and of your Owner’s (or trainer’s) care for you. Unlike the slave journal, which legally and morally is yours, the collar remains the possession of the Owner and must be surrendered upon demand.”

Indeed, collaring is a fair rite of passage among D/s participants, not something to be taken lightly. In this lesson, Miss Abernathy would have the slave in training write about her “dream collar” and make a list of alternatives to the traditional black leather collar. Finally, Miss Abernathy suggests visiting a store that sells collars and trying some on.

Well, if I wasn’t collared already, I would have a fairly hard time doing this exercise. Where I live, there are plenty of cheesy sexware shops, the most reputable of all being the Hustler store near the beach (which tells you something about the overall quality of such things here). But with all that about, none could be considered reputable slaveware purveyors. So, for me, the only candidates for collars would be online.

I could still write about my “dream collar”, and if I did, it would be a description of the slave collar that Julian bought for me in Second Life (at right).

Indeed, I have remarked to Julian many times how beautiful it is and how I would love to have one made just like it. It’s a perfect balance of hard and soft — an unmistakable mark of ownership as well as a lovely piece of jewelry that triggers no other notice except for its own beauty and uniqueness.

Of course, this would be an apt description of the collar I have now. Well, technically it isn’t a collar; it’s a bracelet. But it is a symbol of my ownership by Julian (and his agreement to own me) as well as a token of our commitment to our relationship, our arrangement. And while it would likely be recognized as such by others of like persuasion, it triggers no other notice. To untrained eyes, it’s simply jewelry.

And in truth, I wouldn’t have it any other way. As I’ve said before in a previous post, I’m don’t consider myself closeted with regard to my D/s relationship with Julian, but I do consider myself private. I do not countenance questioning from anyone, really, about anything of me unless they have a clear reason for it. And even then, I reserve the right to refuse answering, excepting Julian’s explicit directive to answer. (And I know Julian would not direct me thus without cause.)

In this lesson, Miss Abernathy talks at some length about the collar itself but says nothing at all about the collaring event. In terms of slave training, I suppose this is inappropriate for a slave to think about, reserved as it would be for her owner to plan. Still, mere mention might not come amiss. Julian and I have talked at length about the importance of ritual, of commemoration of significant life events (Julian with the forceful opinion that it’s vital and I with no previous experience of any such thing) and I must say that imbuing a thing with a certain amount of gravity does have a non-trivial emotional effect on one. Thus a collaring ceremony does much to bind a slave to her owner, to impress further upon both their responsibilities toward each other. Of course, I am thinking in the long-term, which is natural as my arrangement with Julian is decidedly for the long term. Miss Abernathy no doubt would make room for provisional arrangements, such as for play purposes. Thus no mention of collaring rituals.

The “Basic Training” chapter takes up where “Preliminaries” leaves off. In “Preliminaries” we ended with Lesson 6. “Basic Training” picks things back up at Lesson 7.

Lesson 7, Obedience I: first steps toward mindfulness

This section is about, essentially, being acutely self-aware. For Miss Abernathy, mindfulness in a slave comprises the following qualities:

• being observant
• being quietly graceful
• being appropriately communicative

In the main, I agree with her. I think it neither desirable nor mannerly for slaves to be ostentatious in their service. Indeed, my feeling is, slaves speak through their service. The better their service, the better they are heard and the more they are respected. So, a slave who goes out her way to ensure all present are aware of her isn’t being very mindful of very much at all. (And an owner who allows such behavior in his slave requires more intensive training.)

But then, too, I think Julian has spoiled me. He is very much a gentleman in the oldest and best sense. He speaks firmly but quietly, and his touch is equally firm yet gentle. For all that he loves to show off and be in the middle of things, he does not flaunt his ownership of me, nor does he demand I flaunt my owned state to others. And yet, no one would think I was anyone’s but his.

The word I think of most often when I think of Julian is “courtly.” And to say that that suits me is a grave understatement. So, as such mindfulness is a prized quality in slaves, I say it should also be just as prized in owners.

How might I measure up on the mindfulness scale? While I know there is always room for improvement, I think I measure up fairly well. I have trouble sometimes being graceful, which in turn prevents me from being quiet. But I do think I’m pretty observant and I do count myself an able communicator. Of course, there are times when I have trouble communicating, especially when I feel something is wrong in a given situation. Luckily, Julian has helped me through this, teasing out the meaning beneath my confused ramblings, helping me understand through open discussion — brainstorming, really, to bring issues out in front of me so I have room to see them.

Lesson 8, Obedience II: awareness of others

Just as a slave should be self-aware, she should also be aware of others and her surroundings in equal measure. Essentially, this is more detail on the observant quality of a well-trained slave. Miss Abernathy refers to the very subtle nonverbal cues an owner might make to indicate command of the slave, and recommends becoming familiar with body language in general.

For myself, I rather do think that being bound so closely to Julian takes a lot of the obvious work out of being mindful — it just happens. And I imagine that, as we become closer emotionally as well as geographically, that mindfulness will become ever more second nature.

I used to know someone who was first-generation Japanese-American, and I remember him saying that the height of married life for a Japanese couple was for the wife to always know what her husband needed, right when he needed it, without being told. I used to think this was akin to mind-reading, and dysfunctional to boot, but in my reading I think I am coming to understand what he meant. It’s not mind-reading at all, and it’s not dysfunctional. Rather, it’s knowing, and knowing deeply. As well as one would know oneself, but better.

Lesson 9, Obedience III: self-discipline

This lesson is still more detail on being self-aware. Thus, it is a short lesson.

Lesson 10, Slave journal: the discipline of self-disclosure

Once a slave becomes cognizant of, and begins to practice the qualities of Lesson 7, Miss Abernathy recommends instructing the slave to keep a journal, writing at regular intervals. The primary purpose is to document the slave’s progress with training and to communicate with the trainer. Ideally, the trainer will read the journal at equally regular intervals, to get a sense of the progress being made and to understand where the slave is, mentally and emotionally.

Miss Abernathy goes a little far, though, when she recommends the slave refer to herself in the third person, even in her journal. While I might agree with this convention in specific contexts, like high-protocol affairs, for everyday, it’s decidedly over-the-top and wholly impractical. The writer in me cringes at the grammatical gymnastics likely to surface, effectively negating the mindfulness the writing is supposed to engender.

Lesson 11, Voice training I: silence

Voice training is basically responding to commands in a very specific way. For example, when an owner says “Come”, the slave might be trained to pad quietly on all fours and kneel immediately behind the owners, assuming a specific posture to indicate readiness to serve.Voice training is also about knowing when to speak and when to keep silent.

According to Miss Abernathy, a silent slave is a well-trained slave and all slaves should actively “choose silence.” Meaning, slaves should be comfortable with silent surroundings and should cultivate internal quiet.

One benefit of doing this is developing a certain resistance to insults and baiting. Perhaps a more obvious benefit: the slave magically finds more time to accomplish things in her training and her life in general.

For myself, I am no stranger to silence. Indeed, in some cases, I am more comfortable saying nothing. But that doesn’t mean that inside is always just as quiet as outside. There have been times when inside has been much noisier. And those are the times when I am most grateful for my arrangement with Julian. His authority as owner trumps anything the inside voices can dig up, and I know that without that authority, I would be lost. If I need anything in our arrangement, in order to thrive, it is that external authority.

Lesson 12, Voice training II: forms of address

Upshot: This is a protocol lesson. Slaves should be aware of the various titles by which people are called and the rules for deciding which titles to use when.

As I’ve said before, I think this is most appropriate for high-protocol situations, which is more of a specialty to my mind than a general requirement. Julian, as yet, doesn’t stand on ceremony and doesn’t require formal address by default. However, given his taste for the aristocratic, I think it is a matter of time before he directs me to become more well-versed in the more formal aspects of service. Even so, we’re not there yet, so this lesson will wait.

Lesson 13, Personal care and fitness for slaves

Upshot: Obvious lessons in very basic self-care. Slaves should be neat and clean, and should be healthy. Slaves should exercise daily, not only to keep in shape, but to relieve and calm the mind. Even though she doesn’t come right out and say it, Miss Abernathy discourages elaborate self-care rituals — presumably because they distract the slave from maintaining a mindful state.

For myself, I’m still trying to keep the  practice of self-care, but my practice goes beyond basic hygiene. Indeed, this blog was started as part of that practice and my current training marches hand-in-hand alongside.

Lesson 14, Positioning the body: waiting and at rest postures

This is another lesson in protocol. Specifically, the manner in which a slave is “at ease” or “at attention.”

I understand the desire for specific postures, and here again, I think they are most appropriate for high-protocol situations. But as I mentioned before, we are not there yet.

Lesson 15, Voice commands and body positions

Yet another protocol lesson. Same thing: we are not there yet. It’s extremely difficult to countenance this lesson when the current situation doesn’t yet allow for it.

Lesson 16, Exploring feelings about punishment

This is, perhaps, the meatiest lesson in the chapter as the included exercise is a questionnaire designed to uncover what sort of attitude the slave has towards making mistakes and receiving punishment. According to Miss Abernathy, my answers consistently point towards perfectionism:

You want to see an error corrected at all costs. You may tend to overemphasize your intellectual side and may respond to punishment by berating yourself. You may judge yourself by unrealistically high standards, and it’s hard for you to let someone else judge you, particularly if their standards differ from yours. You value fairness and balance, so you want to see the punishment fit the crime. Consequently, you may find corporal punishment frustrating or degrading.

For the most part, this description is spot-on. I am very much a perfectionist and I’ve been known to drive myself (and others) crazy trying to adhere to my own high flying ideals. However, I think the only reason I would find corporal punishment frustrating is if it wasn’t severe enough. I have a fairly high tolerance for pain and can process it reasonably quickly. While a hard beating would be painful, and I would feel it keenly, I wouldn’t be laid low by it. So, a punishment beating would have to endeavor to break me, so to speak. And to get me to that point would take significant time and effort.

So, for me, corporal punishment is a fairly inefficient method of correction. But as I think on it, punishment in general is fairly inefficient in terms of correction and even as an expression of displeasure. I’ve been punished often enough in my life — physically and emotionally — that I no longer respond to it. So, punishment beatings, shunning, long lectures about disappointment, forced isolation, loss of privilege, indifference, humiliation, you name it. It all goes into the same mental black hole and the only thing I get out of such treatment is a deep and abiding hatred for the punisher.

If correction is the desired result, doing so positively and praising afterward is much more effective.

Next time: Household management.

While the training manual is a compendium of Miss Abernathy’s thoughts and preferences on the nature of training and of those who undertake the endeavor, Training with Miss Abernathy is the practicum. Here, we move out of the theoretical into the real world, through open-ended exercises and activities designed to allow submissives-in-training to explore and develop their tendencies to service and to afford dominants a clearer view into the minds and hearts of their charges.

We begin with “Preliminaries.” This chapter comprises six lessons, so I’ll use this post to, as my math teachers used to instruct, “show my work.”

Lesson 1: What is a slave?

This lesson is about getting acquainted with what slavehood means and what calls the dedicant to service. My thoughts:

If one surveys my life — my upbringing, my chosen work, my default mode of operation — one might argue that I was raised to service. Growing up, I was taught, however implicitly, that it was always best to serve. It was the best way to show respect and by far the best way to express love, if such could be felt in an overwhelmingly patriarchal environment. And as a child, I wanted very much to please, anyway. I think those two factors combined to sort of lock me into service mode, and that’s informed how I’ve approached things in my life.

Miss Abernathy views slavehood, service, as a vocation, and I c0uldn’t really agree with her more. There is an art to service as well as craft, and if one wishes to serve, one is obligated to do it well, I think. I also think that one is obligated to never stop learning.

Lesson 2: What kind of slave am I?

This is an exercise where one imagines their life as a live-in slave might be like by picking the items that resonate most closely with that vision.

1. At 6am, I am suddenly awakened by… Master’s bell.

2. It’s time to get dressed. I put on… an apron.

3. It’s a busy day. I spend the morning… pleasuring Master, mending Master’s riding breeches, and cleaning the hall closet. In that order.

4. Time for lunch! I eat… in a nice little cafe Master likes.

5. The best thing about being a slave is… being close to Master and feeling useful.

6. My strong point is… my sex appeal and my organizational skills.

7. The hardest part of being a slave is… finding time to keep myself looking good.

8. After dinner… we retire to the boudoir.

9. Time for bed. I must… make myself available in case Master wants a massage.

10. I dream about… just staying home one weekend and relaxing.

Since my answers are all over the place, Miss Abernathy supposes I’m into general service, which is true. I like doing it all, being versatile, and skilled in as many areas as possible.

Lesson 3: Assessing strengths and weaknesses

This is an exercise where the slave-in-training is encouraged to do a sort of self-inventory.

• List five things I do very well: Write, listen, organize, think, and please.
• List five things I don’t know how to do, but would like to learn: bellydance, ballroom dance, quilt, draw, and paint.
• List five things I’m embarrassed about not being able to do well: There’s only two that I’m truly embarrassed about — dealing with money and managing my career.
• List five things I love to do but would never admit to in public: Again, only two: sing (especially while driving) and act silly for no reason.

Lesson 4: Responsibilities of a slave-in-training

This lesson is about communication and being self-aware. Miss Abernathy believes slaves should be adequately introspective and effective communicators and so the exercise in this lesson is designed to encourage these qualities.

While I wouldn’t shy away from doing something truly productive, even if it’s uncomfortable, I do object somewhat to doing things that aren’t challenging. The exercise in this lesson consists of completing sentences such as “I feel I’ve come to terms with…” and “When a person raises their voice to me, I…” and “I’ve only ever wanted to…” For someone who isn’t accustomed to hearing their own internal workings, these are doubtless helpful. For someone like me, who fair lives inside her own head and is intimately acquainted with those internal workings, the exercise is lightweight.

Indeed, my issue has never been a difficulty in naming feelings. It’s usually been bringing those out into the open and examining them in full view of others, even Julian. Over the years, however, I’ve gotten better at this. As I have already learned this lesson and exercise those learnings every day, I will pass on this exercise.

Lesson 5: Assessing risk: your relationships, work, and health

This lesson is about understanding the impact of one’s choice to be a slave might have on other areas (and people) of one’s life and knowing one’s own limitations. In the corresponding exercise, the slave-in-training rates a series of statements from 1 (“never”) to 10 (“always”).

• I am most comfortable when in a monogamous relationship. – 1
• I enjoy feeling helpless or “out of control” sometimes. – 5. I don’t enjoy feeling truly helpless, and if I start to, the feeling triggers an extreme fight response in me. Trust me when I say that if I feel compelled to fight you, I will win. All that said, being tied up, for example, does not make me feel helpless. Instead, it makes me feel happy and cherished.
• I am attracted to members of my own gender. – 5. Although I consider myself bisexual, I am more often attracted to members of the opposite sex than to my own. And in general, I find most women tiresome at best and predatory at worst. Still, I do enjoy fantasizing about being with those rare women I envision as compatible, and have enjoyed being with such women in the past.
• I am uncomfortable if I don’t know what my partner is thinking. – 2.
• My family knows about my interest in D/S and they are all right with it. – 1 & 10. My mundane family ( my parents, brother, relatives, etc.) doesn’t know and shouldn’t know as it’s none of their business. My Greater Family (Julian, his wife, and others in the circle) does know and are definitely all right with it.
• My friends know about my interest in D/S and they’re supportive of my choices. – 10.
• If my neighbors found out about my interest in D/S, it wouldn’t bother them in the least. – 1. There is absolutely no reason why my neighbors should be aware of my interests in D/S and absolutely no reason for me to solicit their approval. I’m not interested in being out to all and sundry and my arrangement with Julian respects that.
• My therapist is comfortable discussing my interest in D/S and seems to know something about consensual BDSM. – 1. I don’t currently have a therapist. But if I did, I wouldn’t be discussing my D/S interests with him for the same reasons I wouldn’t discuss it with my neighbors.

Describe my current job. In what ways do you imagine slavehood might affect your work? If your employer or co-workers found out about your interest in D/S, what would be the most likely outcome? If you quit your job today, where would you stand financially?

Currently, I’m a writer. It’s highly likely that slavehood wouldn’t affect my work at all because I am not required to be out to all the mundanes in my life. And if slavehood did require this, then I wouldn’t be a slave. I would find another way to express my service tendencies that did not include compromising myself. To my mind, the joys of slavehood are intensely personal and, therefore, the business of a very select few. To entertain the notion of mundanes “finding out” about something so intimate is to assume they have any right to know at all. The people I work with are, generally, of little consequence and I ensure they only know of me what I wish them to know. Finally, if I were to quit my job today, I’d be in pretty poor shape financially. Further discussion is reserved for offline conversation with my Benevolent Master only.

Lesson 6: Expectations: the training contract

This lesson is about being explicit with regard to the terms of one’s service and what one expects to receive in exchange for service. There is no exercise associated, but there are lots of tips for constructing a contract for service.

Julian and I have nothing written down and I don’t think we are yet ready to do so. But I think if we were to draw up a contract, it would be a thorough enumeration of all the ways in which we are committed to each other. In my mind, that’s the heart of our arrangement, that commitment, and it would be continuously updated as we discovered yet more ways to express ourselves within it.

Next time, more lessons as we progress to “Basic Training.”

Miss Abernathy thus introduces us to the relationship spaces that are most commonly formed. She briefly describes ways in which training occurs (email, phone, postal mail) on a part-time and full-time basis (live-in), highlighting the various arrangements in which that training occurs. For example, a slave acting within a partnership, as a dependent, or as an employee. As well, she describes the capacities in which slavehood is enacted; for example, a houseslave, sex slave, or some combination.

She also goes into some detail on contracts, even providing a sample as a candidate for modification.

I liked Part Two a bit better, I think, because I could relate to it a bit more. I consider the relationship I have with Julian to be a full-time arrangement and we use whatever we have at our disposal to maintain closeness and open communication. Most often it is by phone and IM that we achieve this. However, we do make trips to see each other as we can.

Miss Abernathy is careful to outline the benefits of having a contract to define the terms of service; however, I don’t think Julian & I are at this stage yet. The exact terms of my service are still under discussion, really, and I believe my training serves in part to acclimate me to the rigors of eventual full-time service. At this stage in our D/s arrangement, my service to Julian is heart-driven. I am his because it is my dearest desire to belong to him and I would have him happy with me. And so, I do as he demands of me to the best of my abilities. Where a contract might stipulate dates of commencement and termination, we rely instead on the bounds of our commitment to each other.

Overall, I believe our arrangement tracks closely with Miss Abernathy’s qualifications for such things. I am always acutely aware of Julian’s ownership of me. And Julian is ever more joyous in his ownership. Indeed, he wears the mantle of conscientious dominant exceptionally well, and it makes me happy to see him in it.

One thing I like about Miss Abernathy — she likes to lay it all out. In the first half of her Concise Slave Training Manual, she provides an exceptional outline of her “simple program for training erotic slaves.” From The Interview all the way to reward systems and cultivating specialized skills, this is a thorough blueprint for slave schooling.

While I’m very impressed that she’s put her knowledge out there (and that it’s stood the test of time as it has), I have the distinct impression that the highly ritualized service that Miss Abernathy describes is meant for daily practice. To me, this seems problematic as such service might be energy-intensive for both the dominant and slave, and I wonder how it could be sustained for longer than the occasional formal dinner event. Indeed, I think such adherence to ritual invites a tendency to over-ritualize service, especially if protocol is used to provide structure to an arrangement. Thus, the method of service becomes more important than the intent or act of service itself and ceases to be pleasurable for all concerned.

That’s not to say I’m against protocol. Quite the contrary. I think part of the key is in how one defines the term. Miss Abernathy defines it as a highly ritualized manner of reminding the slave of their ownership. Absent the “highly ritualized” component, I’d agree with her. The protocol I enact with Julian is in no way formalized or as subtle as Miss Abernathy describes; but it occurs regularly and it serves the same purpose. For example, almost all of our conversations are punctuated with his declaration that I am his and my assent that his will is mine. It’s an obvious reminder, but we need it to be so. A more subtle reminder is the token Julian gave me when he claimed me. I do not remove it, save for air travel, and it is an ever-present reminder throughout my daily life that I belong to him.

I think the other part of the key is how one naturally approaches service in general. I understand that a lot of people get off on the ritual, but I also tend to think that’s because a lot of people aren’t naturally service-oriented. Ritual can help bend the mind, so to speak, to that orientation.  And when I follow that thought, it might help explain my aversion to the frequent, energy-intense ritual that Miss Abernathy describes. It might not work for me because I do not require the sort of molding that’s described in the book.

All that said, there is still much to note here. Of course, there are some things I am doing already, like keeping a slave journal. This is as much for me as for Julian, though, as writing is a thinking process for me. As well, I am maintaining a certain level of self-care and Julian is always ready to remind me that caring for myself is not only desirable but required for our arrangement, indeed our relationship, to work. Other things I was not aware of, like voice-training. And still other things I am doing, just not in a D/s context, like housework and errands. However, I will admit to some amount of fantasizing of doing these things for Julian, especially when he’s feeling particularly run-down by the myriad demands of daily life.

Miss Abernathy also covers rewards and punishments with a simple mantra: Let the reward (or punishment) fit the slave. I’ll note that Julian handles this brilliantly, although I have yet to receive a true punishment from him. Indeed, for me the absence of reward is not necessarily punishment.

Up next: the dynamics of D/s relationships