Friday, August 30, 2013

Oh Sweet Lorraine



This couple was together for 75 years. At age 93, he lost her, in his grief, he wrote this for her. I pray every day that I die the day before Musicman, because I don't want to live a day without him. If that doesn't happen, this kind of love would be a very close second for me.





Thursday, August 29, 2013

Baby Steps Count

I believe the first step to correcting a problem is acknowledging the problem. Ya can't fix what ya can't accept. Of course, acknowledging and accepting, do not automatically mean things are fixed. No, there is definitely more work involved.

Once the problem is identified, an answer must be sought. Once the answer is found, I must be able to articulate the help I need to take the forward steps required. I'm not finding that so easy, it's just so much easier to hide.

I strongly agree with this: https://gtnow.co/e18d6

Yes, I admit that I have been building walls. And, he's been letting me.

Yes, I did kinda tell him that he needed to back off some. I may have even mentioned a time or two that this wasn't about him. Well, it wasn't. I needed some time and space to be with my family. I knew I only had a limited time with my brother's immediate family before having to go back to my own home and my own life, I needed to be with them for as long as I possibly could be.

I also admit that once I did get back home, I actively shut him out. I did not necessarily want his comfort those first few weeks. I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to wallow for awhile in the pain and despair that I was feeling. I did not want life to go on as normal.

I guess I got what I asked for, cause he is definitely letting me build walls. D/s as we knew it, has pretty much ceased to exist. Yes, part of the problem is the fact that we have no privacy. But D/s was never just about the spanking.

We never had hard and fast rules, but there were things that I did just to make him happy. Such as shaving the lady parts, such a pain to do, but he always liked it. Or, wearing dresses sans panties. Okay, so that I liked, but I started doing it way back when for him, and he used to appreciate it.

That all seems to be gone now. I don't shave, he doesn't seem to notice. I don't wear a dress or skirt and do wear undies, he says nothing. There are no fly by swatting's occurring, no groping as I walk by. About the most we seem to be able to manage is holding hands in the evening while we watch TV. Yes, it's sweet and comforting, but I'm so past sweet and comforting now.

Let's not even talk about the lack of blowjobs. I do believe I am in jeopardy of losing my membership to the cock worshipping sub club. I can very honestly say that in the time since we've returned home, I can count on one hand the number of times I've given him one and have the majority of my fingers left. Not good. He suggested I give him one a few weeks ago. I wasn't in the mood so I ignored his suggestion. He did nothing about that either.

I know he is not going to force me to do these things. That's just not who he is. That of course means it is up to me to fix this situation. I'm trying, but it's not going as well as I would like. It's just so easy to expend all my energy at work and taking care of the home and the kids and everything else.

I'm not gonna give up, I'll keep trying to get back what I pushed away. Maybe, just maybe he will be willing to meet me half way. A girl can hope, right?






Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Reshaping Normal

I've experienced enough life changes to know that normal never returns. I know it takes time, that normal reshapes itself into what we have now.

It hasn't been enough time for me, just a month since my brother's passing. I struggle every day to deal with that. There is something else I continue to struggle with also. Something, that I do realize, is preventing me some what, from accepting the new normal. Something that continues to prevent me from being "his little faerie".

That something is, survivor's guilt. Not guilt that my brother passed and I'm still here, I know my brother wouldn't want that for me. No, my guilt is centered around my Sister-in-law. She is so much more to me than just the woman my brother married. She is one of my very best friends, the sister I always yearned for.

In many ways, especially in our relationships with our husbands, we are much the same. She is the only woman, in my real life, that I could talk openly and honestly with, about my relationship with Musicman, without having to censor myself. She always understood, because her relationship with my brother was much the same as ours. Musicman and my brother are much the same when it comes to their personalities and the things in life they find important. My surviving brother even commented on this similarity recently to Musicman.

The first 2 nights after my brother's passing, before Musicman arrived, the little bit of sleep I got was in a pullout bed, with my sister-in-law. We spent those hours talking about the fact that she is only in her mid 40's, younger than me, and now a widow. She talked a lot about the things my brother told her during his illness, about their lack of  a physical relationship. He regretted that he was too ill to have one with her any longer, he wanted her to find someone else. She can't fathom that, I totally understand.

Her pain from losing him is palpable. I didn't then and still don't now know what to say to comfort her. I can't even imagine what she is going through. Those nights, I just held her hand and let her talk, until exhaustion finally gave her a few hours of relief, in the form of sleep. I was there for her when she woke up in a panic because she thought he needed her. During the entire 7 months of his illness she never once left his side. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

I can't seem to get those memories out of my head. They are definitely affecting the way I interact with Musicman and I don't know how to fix it. I know, with time, it will get better, but I want it all to be better now.

I feel like a china doll, suspended in time, one second before she hits the floor and shatters. The slightest breeze is to be feared, for the potential damage it could do.

Finally...An Empty House

Saturday dawned bright and beautiful, with butterflies the size of bats in my belly. Though, the lingering soreness from the previous night's conversation made me smile.

I was afraid. Afraid to get my hopes up. Afraid that if I did, some one's plans would change and we wouldn't have the alone time I was so desperately looking forward too. Afraid that the plans wouldn't change and what I thought I wanted, what I thought I needed, wasn't actually what I wanted or needed.

It had been so long, what if it didn't work? What if it was just painful and that was it? What if, for some unknown reason, I was no longer "into" this whole D/s lifestyle? It has been so long, it seemed now to belong to someone else, in some other life time. So many what ifs, they made my head spin.

As the day went on many thoughts spun through my head. Maybe I should go buy some new lingerie, or new bed sheets. Maybe I should have gone and gotten my hair trimmed, as I've been saying I needed to do for a couple weeks now. Was it too late to wax? In a panic, I realized I was out of shaving cream, now what? I seriously felt like a teenager going on her first date, ever. So silly, I know, but that's me.

Musicman didn't seem to be suffering any nerves at all. I suppose it's different for the one on the other side of the paddle. Or, possibly, it's because he's not a silly woman like me. We settled in and watched a movie while the kids got their plans in motion. Eventually, the house was empty and we had a nice quiet dinner together. By that point, I think I was just looking for reasons to delay, due to all the doubts swirling through my head.

I can't honestly say I felt relief when he directed me to get into position on the couch in our room, but I must have, cause I was in position in a flash. The silky pajama pants I was wearing did nothing to prevent me feeling the full force of the paddle when it started to fall. He rarely does much of a warm up and I rarely ever get spanked over clothes of any kind. Within just a few swats he stopped to divest me of the pajama pants and then went right back to wielding that paddle.

It didn't take very long before IT happened. I started to cry. I've never cried during a spanking before, nor have I ever had a desire to be spanked to tears. It wasn't the pain that caused me to cry, it was just all the bottled up stress and emotions that had built up over the last couple months bubbling to the surface.

Thank goodness he understood what was going on and did not stop. Instead, in between swats, he rubbed my back and whispered soothing things to me. He checked in with me often to see if I was okay and despite the fact that I was sobbing, I wanted him to continue and he did, until I finally collapsed into a heap on the edge of the couch.

He stayed near and soothed me until the tears were all gone. I felt so much better and with my backside on fire we moved on to more sexy activities. I even found the nerve a bit later in the evening to tell him I wanted a bit more, with the leather strap please.

Yes, he obliged that request.





Monday, August 19, 2013

Funny Way To Have a Conversation

After my meltdown a few evenings ago my kids have been giving me a wide berth. See, they can be really smart kids when they try. I have no idea if Musicman had a hand in engineering things, but we finally had an empty house for a short period of time on Friday evening.

I had been laying in the bed, relaxing and enjoying the cool breeze generated by the fan when he came in and announced we were alone. As he climbed in next to me he reached for the leather paddle, happily announcing we were alone. He flipped up the bottom of my dress and pushed my legs open as he almost simultaneously pulled down the top of my dress.

I just laid there, spread and exposed, wondering what the heck was going on. My brain hadn't quite caught up with what he had said yet and I don't think it ever really did. I blame that fact on the leather paddle which was all too quickly connecting with my most intimates parts.

My eyes closed of their own volition. I find the not knowing where or when the next blow will fall just heightens the experience for me. In between the blows, and my gasps, I realize that Musicman is speaking.

I remember thinking, this is an awful funny moment to try and hold a conversation, but I soon realized it was not necessary for me to do anything but listen and feel. Which is exactly what I did.

In between the slaps of the leather on tingling flesh,  Musicman informed me we were going to have the house the house to ourselves for the weekend. He told me where our son would be and what his plans for the weekend were. He informed me where our daughter would be and what her plans for the weekend were.

By this point, my breathe was out of control and I was not as focused as should have been on what Musicman was saying. I do however remember him saying that what he was currently doing was just a taste of what I would be getting the next night. For a moment, I had my doubts that this plan would actually come together. He must have read my thoughts of doubt, because the increase of intensity and frequency of the blows was very apparent.

No longer able to think, or to doubt, or to do anything but feel and react, I did not hear the door downstairs open. I was quite happily floating away on the feelings of pain and pleasure when Musicman stuffed a pillow in my mouth. Guess that's as good a way as any to get a passion ravaged faerie to be quiet.

I awoke the next morning sore and sated and still wondering if we were really going to have the whole evening to ourselves for some extended playtime.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

The Streaks of the Sun

The emotions build
like snow on the distant mountain peak.
 
A rumble of thunder
too obscure to register
a feather in the landscape.
 
A crack
a peeling back
wilderness in a landslide.
 
Massive walls of white
colliding with the fragile bones.
 
Tumbling freely down the hillside
I wonder.
 
Is there color in this life?
 
My breathe is stolen
inhaled crystals
burning in my chest.
 
Endless white
searing away the preconceptions
searing away the expectations.
 
I come to a stop
exhausted
worn and bruised.
 
I lay for a moment
strength
slowly seeping in.
 
I raise my face
the streaks of the sun
register the colors.
 
I stagger to my feet
I can go on
I will not accept defeat.
 
 
 

Thursday, August 15, 2013

The Pretense of Life

I'm feeling very lost and alone. At this moment in time, I'm having major doubts about who I am and what I want from this life.

It's been almost 6 weeks since my last spanking. I realize that part of the reason for that is because I spent about half of last month out of state with my brother and his family. As hard as it has been to deal with losing my brother, I would not have stayed home for anything in this world.

Connecting on any kind of level with Musicman has been quite sparse also. It's been over a week since we came together for any kind of playtime. That has nothing to do with my brother and everything to do with my kids. My ADULT kids.

I knew when I made the choice to become a mother that I was essentially consenting to give up my own wants and needs for my kids. I had no problem with that because I knew, eventually, if I did my job right they would grow up to be productive, independent human beings.

My kids have not quite been able to achieve that yet, and yes, they are very quick to place all the blame for that on me. I've really been trying hard to breathe deeply and release the negative. I've been trying very hard to embrace the positive and remember that this too shall pass.

Unfortunately, that isn't quite working as well as I would like. I carry my stress in my jaws. I clench my teeth 24/7 when the stress gets very bad. My lower molars are now deeply embedded in my upper molars and the resultant headaches caused from that are excruciating. I've woken every day this week with sharp, piercing pain shooting through my head, radiating out from my jaws.

I very much feel as if I'm a train wreck just waiting to occur. It seems, as hard as I try to stop that from happening, the train just continues to barrel out of control down the tracks. I'm truly not a control freak. I don't feel the need to be in control of everything at every moment, but I'll be damned if I'm going to give up control of my life to my kids. Have I mentioned that they are adults?

They like to remind me all the time of that fact. They also insist that they are quite capable of making their own decisions and deserve to live their lives the way they want. I agree with this, to a point. They live in my home, on my dime and think they know everything. They aren't open to hearing my opinions or suggestions and they certainly don't stop to consider how the decisions and choices they are making effect me.

I've come to realize that, to them, I am not a human being with my own needs or wants. To them, I am just a part of the woodwork. I get up and go to work to earn the money that supports and provides for them. I come home to cook, clean and do laundry, but I better not open my mouth and express any kind of frustration or stress because they don't want to hear it.

Unfortunately, I'm not feeling at all supported by Musicman either. He always was a much better parent then me. His focus right now is on the kids and as long I meet all his needs, in addition to everyone else's, he's good to go.

So, that's about how life has been going for me lately, I'm just a part of the wood work. No one stops to think about what I might want or need, and I am totally stumped as to how to change that. Yes, I have thought about running away, cause after awhile, when things start to fall apart, they might notice that I'm no longer here. Of course, I've made no firm decisions, but, ya never know, I just might do that. Cause what I currently have, is not what I want and who I am pretending to be, is just that, a pretense.





Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Amazed and Not at all Confused.

He says he's amazed. Amazed at the things I let him do to me. I didn't ask him to clarify, but I'm hoping he is amazed in a good way.

I admit to being amazed at the things he does to me. I admit to being amazed at the things he wants to do to me that I haven't quite been able to do yet, also.

I never really thought we were vanilla, but I also never really thought of us as kinky either. I suppose that is because I never really thought all that much about any of it, until I did start thinking about it, a lot.

Oh, there were the occasional conversations over the years. The ones where I would question if something I might want to try was just too weird to even mention. He always assured me there was nothing odd about it. In fact, he would always say, "it's just what we do".  With reassurance like that, it's no wonder I never thought I was the kinky sort.

Now, two years into TTWD, I no longer think of myself as vanilla, I'm definitely not. I am however, still quite amazed at the things we do and how they make me feel. I'm amazed that he can take my mind places so wonderful I never want to come back. I'm amazed that he can elicit every last ounce of response from my body and then take more, pushing me higher than I ever could have imagined I could go.

I'm amazed how much I crave the residual pain that comes with the things we do. In the moment, it is the pain that invokes the pleasure that sets me free. But, the residual pain that sometimes lasts for days is frosting on the cake for me. It's a delicious secret I carry with me throughout my day, often bringing back the memories of the moment, along with a smile, that no one knows the cause of.

While our relationship has always been close and the sex has always been great, I continue to be amazed at how much more there is for us to explore. I'm amazed that this amazing man is so willing to explore with me. I'm really amazed that after all these years he still finds me amazing too.

I'm a very lucky lady to have such an amazing life and such an amazing man, whose always willing to help me not only reach for the stars, but to soar among them.





Monday, August 5, 2013

Weekend Plans Gone Awry

I approach most situations with 100% commitment. I work hard, I play hard, I love hard. Full steam ahead for me is just the kind of person I am.

These last few weeks I  can't seem to find the passion for life that I usually have. I've been quite unbalanced. I know it is all part of the grieving process and that time is what I need. Unfortunately, walking through life feeling like I'm being smothered in a wet blanket is no fun at all.

My lack of enthusiasm for anything has thrown Musicman for a bit of a loop too. He just doesn't know what to do to help me feel better. Unfortunately, he is starting to take it personally and react to me in ways that make the situation worse.

We had thought we were going to have Saturday evening all to ourselves. The kids were supposed to be gone for the whole night. Finally, some much needed privacy. A chance for me to let go and forget my sorrow for awhile. That did not happen.

Our daughter left, we thought for the night. One down, one to go and then let the games begin. Our son finally left and we had the house to ourselves, for all of 5 minutes. Our daughter came back with her boyfriend and his 2 young sons in tow. They came to swim. Okay, games on hold for a bit.

Unfortunately, by the time they left to take the boys back to their mother's house we knew she would be coming back soon. Not what we had planned, at all.

I know Musicman thought he was being helpful. I know he thought he was gonna give me some much needed relief from a currently pretty crummy reality. He turned on some music, he got out the magic paddle and approached me. Before he could say a word, I spoke up and told him it wasn't going to happen.

Ya see, there a times when fast and furious in a few moments of stolen time works quite well for us. This wasn't one of those times. It's been quite a few weeks now since any kind of D/s or kink has occurred, life has just not allowed for it. I knew that what he was proposing was not going to work for me this time, I was just way too wound up for that.

I think he was a bit shocked that I said no, I never say no. He didn't say anything, just put the paddle away and turned the music off. We resumed watching the movie we had been watching and not much else was said.

I slept badly Saturday night, even leaving our bed to sleep on a couch for most of the night. I never do that, I'm always supposed to be in his bed. Neither one of us was in the greatest of moods when we woke on Sunday.  We spent the morning snapping at each other before he gave up in disgust and took a nap.

I of course felt ignored, misunderstood and unimportant. So as I spent the day alone doing chores my blood boiled hotter and hotter. I did write him an email attempting to explain with some sort of clarity what happened from my point of view. I sent the email, but since he did not get up in any better mood than he had laid down in, I didn't bother to tell him about the email.

A mostly silent evening ensued and he got up and left for work this morning without even speaking to me. I really dislike when he leaves for work without waking me up to say goodbye. I have to go in to work for just a few hours this afternoon myself. I'm not looking forward to it at all. I'm in a crappy mood and just want to lay in bed with the blanket over my head and pretend the world doesn't exist.

I feel like I'm drowning, the shore is no where in sight and I'm going down for the third time.




Thursday, August 1, 2013

Uncomfortably Numb

When life gets tough I tend to write more. It helps me process the tangle of thoughts rolling around my head. Life has been really tough recently, but the internet has been out for most of the last few weeks and I haven't been able to write.

Another great way for me to relieve stress is through spanking and sex. Haven't had much of that going on lately either. Well, spanking that is, just haven't had any privacy. Sex has been plentiful enough, but I've been "in a funk", according to Musicman and it hasn't been as fulfilling as usual.

Musicman asks frequently, when is his faerie coming back? He says he misses her. To be honest, I miss her too, but I have no answer for that question. Ya' see, it's not just a funk I'm experiencing.

My brother lost his battle with cancer. He passed a week and a half ago. He had been doing okay, fighting hard, and was scheduled to have an appointment at one of the top cancer research hospital's in the country. Unfortunately, he had to deal with multiple blood clots throughout his battle, ultimately, that is what took his life.

I spent a week out of state helping make all the final arrangements and attending the funeral. Musicman came down for the last few days to attend the funeral. Due to the large amount of people travelling from out of state for the services we moved to a hotel once he arrived. He very thoughtfully brought my favorite paddle. He said he thought I would need it, I definitely did.

Unfortunately, there were family members in the rooms on either side of us. I quickly realized when I heard snoring coming from the next room the first night, that no stress relief was in sight for me. I'm pretty bold and would not have thought a thing of strangers possibly hearing us, but family is a totally different story.

Since we've been home, we've not had any privacy for a spanking either. The kids always seem to be underfoot. Our daughter is within weeks of delivering and does not get out much anymore. On the few occasion she does leave in the evening, our son is home. I'm seriously considering paying them to leave the house at the same time, cause both Musicman and I know what I need.

In the mean time, I kinda walk through my days in a haze. I only seem to have two emotions at the moment, tears or numbness. I prefer the numbness, I'm so tired of crying.  I know Musicman is frustrated, he wants to help me, he wants his faerie back. I want her back too, I just don't know when we will have the opportunity to lure her back.