NURSE JONES

Nurse Jones posts blind


From: [email protected] 
Subject: Nurse Jones posts blind 

From Nurse Jones, 

Before I start, I want to say something. Public thanks to the 
wonderful person (whose name I probably shouldn't mention publically, 
but you know who you are) who got me back in touch with my IRC friends 
last night by giving me an acct. Pookie and I had a, well, touching 
reunion. Thanks. There are some very nice people on the Net. 

And I'd like to extend my warmest finger to the bluenose that made the 
decision to kill ASB on the freenet I use. 

So I'm posting blind now, but that should be a temporary situation. 

So anyway. 

I have had an epiphany. Or is that one of the seasons of Easter? A Big 
Realization. That's what I've had. 

About my favorite subject: Me. 

Those of you that read what I was writing a year ago are invited to 
answer this question, please: Did I come across as more serious, 
"responsible" and reserved at first? Have I loosened up a bit since I 
wrote The List? 

Sorry. I'm always talking about myself. 

But I have a reason for asking and it has general implications. The 
thing is, I think the *reason* I've opened up is related to my 
experimentation with submissiveness. I have, in a way -- a 
psychological way -- made Jay responsible for me. This allows me to 
relax and do whatever I want because I know he is there in the 
background setting the rules and he'll tell me if I screw up. And 
within those limits I don't really care very much what anyone *else* 
thinks of me. 

Is there a paradox here somewhere?  The old "Bondage Will Set You 
Free" routine? 

I used to watch what I said much more carefully for fear of committing 
some gross social transgression and making a fool of myself. 

I suppose that kind of caution grows out of uncertainty about where 
the limits of social interaction are. Now I'm worrying a lot less 
about that sort of thing. I figure Jay will set a limit for me if I 
goof. 

Pookie wrote a very touching post recently in which she commented that 
she wanted to be controlled. Maybe she meant she wanted someone else 
to take responsibility for her. I was amazed to hear her suggest -- to 
me of all people -- that maybe this is selfishness -- something she 
should be embarrassed about. Not around me. I'm self-absorbed to the 
point of autism. I mean, c'mon. Being selfish around me is like 
belching at a bikers convention. Who's gonna notice? 

The point is, I feel the same way Pooks does: I want to be controlled. 
I am, in fact. I feel as though I am imbedded in Jay. As though I am a 
subset of him. 

Does that make any sense? 

I guess that's what submission is. Funny I don't think of it as 
submission. Maybe I'm rationalizing. I don't think of it as a loss of 
status. I don't think of it as degrading or humiliating. I see myself 
as swimming freely in him. Within his limits. 

This is silly, I know, and it's not logical, and I should be able to 
think for myself in this regard, but I don't *want* to think for 
myself. I *like* the freedom to be socially irresponsible. To say what 
I want. Having a clearly defined personal relationship in one part of 
my life seems to give me a kind of freedom of movement that carries 
over into the rest. Jay sets the rules. 

Blindfolded, I don't have to be embarrassed about what I look like. 

Gagged, I don't have to worry about what I say. I can let it all out. 

Restrained, I have the freedom to fight back to my utmost. Ergo, no 
guilt. 

And controlled by Jay, I can go as far as the reins will allow, do 
whatever I want within their limits. 

Find the right top, and you are free to be the most selfish, spoiled 
person on the planet. 

I keep asking if this makes sense. Does it? I know I'm abdicating 
responsibility for myself. Not all the time, not in everything, but 
still I do it. You might not approve of that kind of irresponsibility. 
But it feels good. 

It's sort of like having a designated driver for your life. 

                          -*- 

On another note, I didn't make any New Year's resolutions this year, 
mainly because I'm perfect already. Well, almost. I'm still about five 
pounds over perfect (Okay, six. Seven, tops...),  so I don't yet quite 
have the figure for a bikini. Just the nerve. 

Jay's going to let me out of the chocolate deprivation chamber in 
another week or so. Heh. I have a secret box of milk duds behind the 
frozen peas in the fridge. He'll never look in the freezer. And 
certainly not among the vegetables. Besides, there are *lots* of 
perfectly rational explanations for Milk Duds in the freezer. 

Speaking of which, *anything* would be easier than explaining the 
*candles* in the freezer to my mother-in-law. Gawd, that was 
embarrassing. This was last Xmas. I had forgotten they were in there 
and when she asked I just panicked and froze. "Uh... I dunno..." was 
all my brain could manage. It seemed so obvious to *me* why they were 
in there that I was sure she had deduced the Awful Truth About Her 
Daughter In Law. But no. For someone who eats broken glass and can 
open an oyster by squinting at it, she is awfully trusting. 

It was bad enough when she found the moldy dinner plate in the chest 
of drawers in the guest bedroom. At least now we have the complete set 
again. 

Thank God *I* was the one that found the vibrator in the vase of dried 
flowers. I'm gonna get Neets for that. 

In fact, that's two I owe her, counting the plumber's helper. 
Important Safety Tip: Never invite anyone to join you in a shower if 
they are smiling and holding a plumber's helper. 

But that's another story. 

Is it any wonder I'm so jumpy around my in-laws? It's like a macabre 
easter egg hunt around our house whenever they visit. 

Every time I turn around I'm afraid I'll see her standing there with a 
ball gag or a fluorescent Emperor-sized dildo and that what-kind-of-
person-did-my-son-marry? expression on her face. 

Every time she goes to open a drawer or a closet I dive to get there 
first. "HERE, LET ME DO THAT!!! (ahem) I mean, er, let me do that... 
sorry about your foot..." 

Sorry to *still* be going on about my inlaws. 

You know how I get. 

The  emperor-sized  dildo was a joke gift from Neets,  BTW. It's 
ridiculous. I'm thinking of having a lamp made out of it. I'm 
definitely *not* Emperor-sized. 

Even king-sized is a little too ... monumental ... for me. 

Still, one can wonder. King ... Emperor ... what's next? Any verified 
sightings of the next larger size, or are we dealing with a 
theoretical -- possibly theological -- concept here? 

We need to do research on this. 

Nurse Jones, 
   Wondering if 
     there is a 
        loincloth of 
           Turin... 


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