Month: November 2010

Our Collaring Ceremony

On 14 July 2010, our first anniversary, Walter formally collared me in a beautiful ceremony. I thought I would share that ceremony here, for those who have never experienced one.

A collaring ceremony is in some respects like a wedding. It signifies a permanent commitment between a Dominant and a submissive. The “ring” went around my neck instead of my finger, and the nature of the promises is slightly different. But like a wedding, the Dominant and the submissive make vows to one another, promising their love and support. The collar symbolizes their mutual consent and the vows each has made to the other.

I dressed carefully, wanting to be elegant and pleasing but simple, to signify that I would be letting go of my personal power and consciously, willingly, joyfully handing it over to him. It would not do to dress like a princess or in any way that seemed ostentatious. When a collaring ceremony is private the submissive might even be nude, as a symbol of the consensual power exchange at the heart of the relationship. But for this occasion I chose a simple Grecian style white gown by Nicky Ree, with long flowing gauze draped from the shoulder. I carried a single white rose, the traditional symbol of submission.

With joy in my heart, I made my way down to the ceremony pavilion on our island. The path wound through the trees and down the hill into a sheltered valley. As I emerged into a clearing, I saw the rustic pavilion, surrounded by trees. It was generously adorned with hundreds of white roses that seemed to burst from every beam and rafter. Master waited on the pavilion, by a small table that held a jeweled box. An intimate group of family and close friends greeted my arrival. I smiled, unable to contain my happiness.

Camryn Darkstone Collaring Ceremony“Camryn, would you join me please?” Master called.

I stepped onto the pavilion and went to him. “It would be my honor, Master.” We both smiled. Then he spoke with solemnity.

“Camryn, it is my intent to offer you my collar as a sign of your submission to me. Are you willing to accept my collar?”

My heart leapt with excitement. “It would be my greatest joy, Master… yes!”

Master turned to the table and opened the box. I gasped with delight as he removed a collar that he had made especially for me. Bright silver, engraved with a Celtic design and sporting a gleaming sapphire, it sparkled in the sunlight. It seemed the loveliest thing I had ever seen. 

Reaching out, Master placed the collar around my neck, but did not yet close the lock. He looked into my eyes with love and made his vow to me.

“Camryn,” Master said solemnly, “with the placing of this collar around your neck and your acceptance of it, I vow to do everything I can to be worthy of you. I promise to hold you and keep you safe, to stretch you and give you flight, to respect the needs of our relationship above all others, to love you, honor you, support you in all things and be sensitive to your needs and desires . I acknowledge the trust you have placed in me and the responsibility that goes with my acceptance of that trust. I will never violate or even threaten to violate that trust. I acknowledge and accept with all my heart the gift of submission you have made to me. This collar will be a symbol of that which we already know: that you are mine, and by wearing it you will always be safe to be everything that you are.

“Do you accept this collar in the spirit by which it is given you?”

Looking on my Master, and hearing these words, I felt my heart fill with love and happiness such as I had never known. Without any hesitation, I spoke clearly and with conviction.

“Master, of my own free will, with clarity of mind, heart and conscience, I surrender my life to you, submitting to your will in all things.” I had difficulty holding back tears of happiness as I spoke from the depth of my heart. “I accept your collar as the outward and visible sign of my deepest joy: that I am yours. I gladly accept your authority and trust you to guide me on the right path. I vow to honor you with my every thought, word and action. I promise to stay with you, support you and fulfill your needs and desires as you allow. You are the center of my universe, the light of my life and the love of my heart. I give you my love, my heart and myself, now and always.”

I knelt, in a traditional posture of submission. He reached out and locked the collar firmly in place around my neck. As the lock closed forever with a satisfying click, my world seemed to fill with light and love. I am his! At last I am become who I was meant to be. I have found my heart’s desire. I smiled up at my Master in utter devotion.

“Camryn,” he continued, “I will never forget the responsibility that I have undertaken here. I am charged with your well being in all you do. My decisions will affect you in every way. Your life is literally in my hands and I will never shy away from that responsibility, but use the power you have given me wisely. I will never consider only myself. I will always remember that you will follow wherever I may go. I will not lead you into danger and I will be mindful that you will look to me in all things for guidance and teaching. I promise to learn from you what is good and safe for you, and be prepared to give as much, or more than I receive from you. The Master’s hand is a double edged sword. It can give pleasure and it can punish. I will never forget that, and will consider every facet of any situation before using that power. It will never be used in anger, and will always be justifiable.

“Thank you for giving me the gift of your submission, Camryn,” he said softly. He took my hand and helped me rise, and we kissed, through my happy tears as our friends and family showered us with congratulations, warmth and love.

The limits of sweetness

In the last year or so, I’ve occasionally allowed my inner curmudgeon a little more freedom to express herself. It’s subtle, and if you aren’t paying attention you might miss the mildly acerbic remark, the subtle sarcasm, the “we are not amused” raised eyebrow.

Normally I am very mellow, so when this happens it sometimes takes people by surprise. I have a reputation for being kind and nice. And most of the time I am. That’s what makes my curdmudgeon so effective.  Watch out for Camryn, Walter chuckles. It’s always the quiet ones.

A few years ago I was invited to a friend’s birthday party on a private sim. The birthday boy was a very popular persona, and the sim was filled to capacity with at least 40 of his closest friends. Hijinks were encouraged. He loves flamethrowers! said his partner. So I secretly planned to display a huge explosion generated by the Omicron from Omega Concern. I’d tried it on my own sim, and it produced awesome fireworks. I imagined everyone smiling with delight, saying “oo” and “ah” as the flashes and particle flames lit up the night sky.

I quietly bided my time until everyone was gathered, dancing and laughing and celebrating. Then I walked into the midst of the crowd, unnoticed (I am almost always unnoticed). Smiling to myself, I pressed the button: apocalypse.

What I didn’t realize was that they had damage enabled on the sim.

The explosion lit up the night sky, alright. A blinding nuclear blast enveloped the island. All 40 of us, including the birthday boy, were killed instantly, and teleported home.

To say I was embarrassed would be an understatement. I was mortified. I apologized over and over and over again to the hostess and to the birthday boy. It was hard to get a word in edgewise, though, because they were laughing so hard.

Needless to say, after that incident, I had something of a… reputation. I had been the sweet one, but now I was the  assassin who blew up one of the most popular people in SL and 40 of his closest friends. Watch out… it’s always the quiet ones.

Besides providing many giggles over the years, that incident is a great metaphor for what happens when I ignore my anger and resentment. I can try to deny that I have any; I can resolutely maintain my serene demeanor at all costs. But that takes a lot of energy. Energy that drains me. Eventually my shields fall. Boom! Apocalypse.

It’s probably wiser to let my anger leak out gradually, when it is still only a spark, before it reaches nuclear proportions. I’ll continue to let my inner curmudgeon out of her cage from time to time. I promise not to blow anyone up.

Two Three Six Five

Here’s my submission for Two Three Six Five!

Camryn Darkstone and Walter Balazic

As a drizzling November rain brings a hush over my quiet First Life, my day begins as usual, with silent meditation. Then, as every day, I go to meet my love on Second Life.

I work from home, where I live alone. My social life centers on an intimate group of dear friends. We have known each other forever. We share the same passions, activities, and opinions. We smile together about a favorite quote: “I don’t know if I need a lover. I think I would settle for five good friends.”

Most of us look for such good friends, with whom we share much in common. We like to bond with “people like us.” Social media tools make it even easier to filter our friendships, associating only with those who reflect the views and tastes we already have.

Seeking relationships, we make lists of desirable attributes ranging from the superficial, such as appearance, to the provocative, such as politics or religion. We look for personality or character traits, or mutual interests and ambitions. We envision what we want, and we find a partner who fits into our predefined vision.

But this can be very limiting. Envisioning a certain outcome can blind us to glorious surprises. We may miss out on wonderful gifts because we were expecting something else. Focusing on our goals, potentially beautiful friendships with lovely people slip past us, unnoticed.

At first, I didn’t think I needed a lover in Second Life. It caught me totally by surprise. Walter was a surprise. Outwardly, in RL, he is very different from me. Had I stuck to my preconceived notion of what I was looking for, I might easily have missed the gift of knowing, loving and being loved by this beautiful soul. No one could have foreseen his impact on my life. No one could have predicted who I’d turn out to be: that I, the rebellious, independent loner, would willingly and happily surrender my freedom, opening my heart to the surprise and delight of unexpected pleasure.

So I advise that you let go of expectations. Have goals, but don’t be enslaved to them. Something better might happen. Don’t assume you know what the best outcome is. Be open to the possibility that you will be surprised by someone completely different from what you expected. Leave a crack in your armor, so that grace can leak in.