Ch...Ch...Ch...Changes

Something's changed.

Something is different.

It's not just the fact that we have very little privacy.

It's something that goes deeper than that.

It's taken me awhile, and many, many thoughts, to figure out what it is, but, I finally did figure it out. Sorta.

What has changed, is the fact that I am once again the one in control. I'm the one leading. The one orchestrating everything, so that everyone is happy and fulfilled. Everyone that is, except me.

I've always been a very strong, dominant woman. I'm confident to the point of intimidation. I'm self assured and strong in my decisions. I have no problems stepping up to lead. There is some personal satisfaction to be gained for me.

The problem is, I don't actually want personal satisfaction. I don't want to lead, the personal satisfaction is not enough for me. I want the deeper fulfillment. That comes for me, with submission.

I need to know, that while I'm being strong, confident and in charge some one will step up and say, " It's okay, I've got your back. I'm here and I will not only care for you, I will take care of you."

You see, that is the first thing that goes by the wayside. He cares for me, but he doesn't take care OF me. There is a big difference in the two, at least for me.

When I'm in dominant mode, I provide, protect and care for everyone else. I make sure that every one's needs are met. The problem emerges when I fail to provide, protect and care for myself. That's an area I've always lacked in.

That's an area where I want, need and desire him to step in. I crave the dominance that makes me feel taken care of. For a woman who truly believes she can take on the world and win, realizing that I suck in caring for myself isn't all that easy. Admitting it and asking for help is darn near impossible.

At first, I thought I would be able to define what that looked liked. His Dominance. I soon learned otherwise. I learned that no matter what I really wanted, he was only willing to give so much. I learned to accept that for him, my strong need for dominance, was just a sexual game. Yes, I wanted more, but, I accepted that he would never give me more.

I did my best to adjust and achieved some small semblance of submission. It was enough to please him. So, I did my best to accept and embrace what he was willing to give. I told myself that it was the reality of being a submissive. I mentally talked myself into believing it was enough.

For awhile, it was enough. For awhile, I was quite happy with the way things were progressing. I could feel him embracing and becoming comfortable with the enhanced amount of Dominance I had asked for. He often surprised me with the things he wanted to do. Recognizing how he manipulated and used me was both surprising and exhilirating.

I was becoming much more acclimated and accepting of the things he proposed. I thrived, soon wanting to go deeper. I wanted to explore. I trusted. I wanted more than I can even define.

Then things began to change. Things began to fall apart. Everything we had, fell by the wayside. The focus of our lives changed, despite the fact that I fought against it. I fought to hang on to that small semblance of a D/s lifestyle. I fought to hang on to, and be the person, that feels so natural for me.

Now, even that is gone. I'm left floundering. Trying my best to stand up, be the leader they all need. I suppress the wants and needs that threaten to overwhelm me. I'm too tired to fight and/or push for what I want at the moment. Honestly, I have no idea what that might be. That makes me sad.

 

When I just need his ear.

As a dominant male Musicman's primary duty is to protect and provide. He made that very clear to me from the very beginning. Yes, I know, technically protect and provide are two things, but they are of equal importance to him so they count as one.

When ever something happens that upsets me, he feels it is his duty to fix that thing for me. The problem arises when something happens that he can't fix. He would like to think he is superman and can fix everything for me. I believe he is superman, but I also know there are just some things he can't fix. Or can he? That depends on how you define fixing things.

When I've had a frustrating day at work, I often come home and vent to Musicman. When the kids and the animals are jumping on my last nerve, it helps to have him to vent too. That used to frustrate him quite a bit. Not because he didn't want to listen, but because he wanted to fix the situation for me, but he couldn't.

It took many conversations and probably just as many arguments, to figure out why he would become so upset when I vented. It frustrated him that he couldn't protect me from the things that were upsetting me. It frustrated him that he couldn't fix things for me.

For awhile, I would tell him, I don't need you to fix this for me, I just need you to listen. That helped some, but not as much as either of us liked. It still caused him frustration, because to him it felt like he wasn't doing his number one job, protecting and providing for me. He would offer advice on how he would handle the situation, but that often wasn't helpful for me.

As a woman I can not employ the same techniques for dealing with people as he does. Let me give you an example: once when a co-worker annoyed Musicman, he grabbed him by the throat and jacked him up against a wall. His other co-workers pulled him off and the man escaped with his life, but never bothered him again. Obviously, that is not something I can easily do, even if I sometimes want too.

I finally realized that him listening when I vented was important enough to me that it did qualify as fixing things for me. Did it really fix the situation? No, but it helps to dissipate the frustration and anger I am feeling at the moment. It allows me to be calm enough to hear him and his suggestions, which rarely ever include physical violence anymore.

Once I understood that, I explained to him how important it was to me that he be a safe haven. An outlet to safely express my anger and frustration. I explained to him that in being that safe haven for me, he really was fixing things for me.

There has been a recent progression in this area. I still have the luxury of venting to him about things, but some times I have a hard time knowing when it is enough already. I sorta get stuck in an endless loop. It is no longer a way for me to blow off  the stress, instead it starts to ramp me up and I become more and more upset. Not pleasant for him and no longer productive for me. When that happens he recognizes it and plainly and simply tells me to stop. That's all he has to say, STOP, with that certain authority in his voice. It always seems to work too. I stop and I feel better.

When the Mask Slips

I've been at my new job for 4 months. It took me two years to find this opportunity, but it was so worth everything I went through to find it. I absolutely LOVE what I do. I work in a day program for senior citizens, except, these aren't normal senior citizens. All of my clients carry a label. They carry the label of  mental retardation. I say, I take care of little kids, in old people bodies, cause that's exactly what they are.

It is a physically and mentally challenging job, but it's so rewarding. My clients have some of the purest energy I've ever encountered. We play games, we do arts and crafts, we go on outings. I wipe noses and sometimes butts, but I also get hugs and kisses. They are always happy to see me and crowd around me every morning to ask how I am and share their stories with me. It's really quite wonderful.

The staff I work with are quite varied. They consist of both men and women, young and old. At 48, I fall in the middle of the age range. My position is referred to as a sub, ironic, I know, but it so fits me.  Many of the people I work with have been there for many years, they are like one big happy, if somewhat dysfunctional, family. I'm honored that they have embraced and welcomed me as one of their own. It's made being the new girl a very easy thing.

I have always tended to be somewhat guarded at work about who I am. I've never really shared enough about myself for anyone to suspect that I might be submissive. This group of people is different and things that have happened lately, lets me know I no longer care if they figure it out.

One woman was talking about needing to get her hair cut, it's very short to begin with, but she says she needs it trimmed. I, without even thinking, shared that I needed to go get mine done too. I need to add some layers to tame the wild curls. This woman suggested that I should get 3 inches trimmed off. Apparently, I did not cover my look of horror at having that much of my hair cut, cause she commented on it. She specifically told me, "don't look so horrified, it's just hair."   Yeah, not so much for me. Thank goodness I just thought that and didn't say it.

Then, there was a general conversation about money, specifically their lack of it. Again, I didn't think. I spilled that Musicman controls the money, but that he always gives me what I want, within reason of course. One of the male staff said I had a Sugar Daddy. I have never thought of Musicman that way before, but I guess if I look at things objectively, I understand why they might think that way. They know I drive a new car, that he pays for. They know I am required to do nothing to the car other than drive it. I don't even put gas in it. Musicman does that for me.

They have all tried to talk me into working full time, to no avail. I have no problem telling them that I don't work full time, cause Musicman takes such great care of me that I don't need too, nor do I want too. I also have no problems telling them about the things I would rather be doing, namely, things I enjoy doing to take care of Musicman.  They know how much I look forward to our rare weekends alone. I don't say it specifically, but it wouldn't take a genius to figure out why I look forward to our private time. They've heard me say on occasion that Momma needs to get her groove on. They've also seen me come in after a weekend alone with Musicman, extremely happy and energetic.

Despite the fact that I work with such a varied staff , I am one of only two people who have a long term relationship. The one other woman in a long term relationship, 17 years, approached me yesterday to ask for advice. She explained that communication with her husband has broken down, to the point of nonexistence, they fight all the time. She asked me how to fix it. I will admit, I was at a bit of a loss as to what to say that wouldn't totally reveal me as submissive. Thank goodness I only I had a few minutes before my clients intruded and ended that conversation, but I would still like to help her if I can. I have a few days off to think about it, suggestions are welcome.

Conquering Sub Drop

Let's talk about sub drop.

It was something I anticipated might happen after such an intense time together as this weekend was. I anticipated it, but didn't worry about it all that much. In my experience, worrying about it only accomplishes one thing. It makes it happen.

That was exactly what I didn't want.

Having experienced it before and anticipating that it might happen, acted as a forewarning for me. I was looking for the signs that it was occurring. I didn't have any issues Monday during the day. I have work to thank for that. I love my job and the fact that it is challenging enough to totally engage me. That leaves no time for even thinking or feeling sub drop.

Unfortunately, the day to day chores at home that need my attention do not engage or challenge me nearly as much. That's when I could have fallen victim to sub drop. It did in fact start to happen last night. I was exhausted and could feel the tears hiding behind my eyes.

I got very quiet, somewhat morose in my thoughts. Musicman could tell and checked in with me often through out the evening. I assured him I was okay, because I was. The simple fact that I expected it, gave me the power to control it, this time anyway.

I could feel my thoughts racing, picking up speed as they went. Of course, they wanted to run down the negative road. My hormones wanted to jump on the bandwagon and take a dive along with my mood. Since I was expecting that, I was able to mentally talk myself out of it.

It worked pretty well, this time. This is also how I used to deal with PMS. Once I knew what the problem was, I could deal with it in a rational manner. Doesn't mean I will always be able to do that, but it did work this time.

And, should that fail, cuddle time with my grand baby pretty much cures all ills. I made sure I got some tonight.

Exactly What I Needed

It's been a wonderful weekend alone, almost like a mini vacation. It's been everything I've needed and wanted. I'm still trying to digest it all. There just seem to be so many thoughts swirling, that I can't quite grab a place to start. Every time I do, I get lost on side tangents, cause there's just so much to think about.

Hmmmm....can we say, "over stimulated?" Haahaahaaaa.... I'm also extremely satisfied. (insert huge grin here)

So, given that my thoughts are so scattered, I thought I might just capture some bullet points. References, if you will, that I can revisit and explore more, after I've had more time to digest and my schedule allows for writing.

Implements: he used several, his hand, the magic paddle, the leather paddle, the new implement I made, courtesy of anonymous' suggestion. Thank you anonymous!

The day to day occurrences, such as the fly by swatting and the hands everywhere. It keeps my mind in a certain mindset, it builds anticipation. The submissive mindset, all I want to do is serve and please. I like that mindset, a whole bunch. I feel safe there.

Slave - he bandy's that word about sometimes, he did this weekend. I loved it, yet it's something I haven't really explored much. I begin to think, it might be something I might want to define for myself.

The distinct differences, between the submissive me and the masochistic me. Though I've just begun to recognize and acknowledge those sides of me, I realize one has been around a long time, the other is much more recent. The masochist is something I've evolved into. I believe, as a result of my submission, which is a result of my trust, in him. Or, at least that seems to be the tangent my mind follows on this one.

The things he wants vs. the things I want. The way we each go about getting what we want. The areas I need to work on and improve in, to please him. What he can do to help me achieve that. Everything he did this weekend, worked wonderfully well. I don't know that I was able to do everything he asked easily, but I attempted more than I ever have. That's a start.

That concludes the short version, of the things blowing through my mind at the moment. The kids have started to trickle home. I expected that and made a huge lasagna in preparation. There is a spinach salad and garlic bread to go with it.

Back to reality and work tomorrow. That's okay though, cause I have made some wonderful memories. And, I know, if given the time and the chance, I will discover that I have learned a lot about both of us from this weekend together. Maybe, if I focus, I can identify those things and apply them for future growth together.

For the moment, the huge grin, remains in place. Along with the sting and ache, in my body, that comes with being well used, well satisfied, well loved.

A Space of Time

My day started with Musicman reaching over, stroking up my face, into my hair. The weight of his arm across my chest, as his hand caresses up my face. So familiar, so heavy, so comforting. He buries his hand and rolls me into him.  Mmmmm...my favorite place to be, snuggled into the crook of his shoulder, my face on his chest.

I so love the simple pleasures in life. Waking up this way is so much better than the annoying buzz of an alarm prior to 6 am. I savor the sensation and bask in the glory as I lie there, soaking in his warmth and watch the sun brighten outside our bedroom window.

I flop my arm across his chest, over to his shoulder. He catches my hand and draws it down to his cock. Mmmmm...I purr again. My fingers lightly skipping over his hard shaft, as he tells me how much he has missed me, his little faerie. I agree, I miss her too.

But, I know something. Something he doesn't know. I know that barring any emergencies, we have an empty home for the weekend. I had laid the groundwork the night before, while he fell asleep waiting for me to come to bed. I am sorry that happened, but the benefits should out weigh the circumstances.

Yes, I was blunt. I had a conversation with my son's girlfriend. I told her plainly, but not graphically, that we would appreciate our privacy. I informed her that our daughter and grandbaby are away at a friend's for the weekend. I suggested that this would be a good time for them to spend some time with her family. She's a pretty smart young lady, reminds me a lot of myself. She assured me she understood, so did my son after she spoke with him.

So, as I lay there in his arms, I knew it was safe to let my faerie come out. I knew, I had a space of time, where I needed to be nothing other than, totally his. I knew, I had a space of time, that I could safely get lost. No one, other than him would place demands on my time. Nothing, other than pleasing him, would be my focus. That thought, makes me very, very happy. That thought makes me soft and malleable. I am his to mold and he is taking advantage of that.

A Small Chance

There is a small chance that we might actually have some alone time this weekend. Ever since I found that out late yesterday I've been working very hard not to get my hopes up. Ya see, I know what I want, I know what I need.

I am hoping to get the chance to feel this:   

and maybe this:    

and maybe even this:  . 

And in my mind, that would just be the beginning, cause there are just so many more things that would be fun to do if we had the privacy. While I could let my mind run amok thinking of the possibilities, I'm a bit hesitant to do that. I'm hesitant cause if we don't get the chance, I will be indescribably disappointed. I don't want to go there and let myself fall into that funk that follows the disappointment. So, for now, I'm keeping my fingers crossed and my imagination reigned in, but it hasn't been easy.

A Bit of a Tease

Thanks everyone for the great ideas and suggestions on my last post. I'll be discuss them with Musicman and hopefully there will be some he is interested in trying out. If there is, I'll let ya know how it goes.

In the mean time, I'm being a bit of a tease and appealing to him in a way that I know works for him. Oh yes, I could just ask him if he's interested, but where's the fun in that?

Instead, I've chosen to email him. I know many of us choose to communicate the difficult things to our Dom's in that manner. It's just so much easier to write it all out and press that send button then to actually look him in the eye and speak. For me, that always seems to be the one time I find myself at a loss for words.

This particular email does not even address any of that stuff though. I know he reads everything I write, so he is already aware of the great suggestions we've been given.

Nope, I went a totally different way with this email. I found some pics of a particular activity that I know he is interested in pursuing and sent them to him. Hot, sexy pics that I think he will find arousing.

In addition, I did use the suede laces that I have, looped them together and tied them as anonymous suggested and left it in a convenient place for him to find.  And, if he should decide to try the tilt want that Sunnygirl suggested, well, there a three of them already close at hand.

Ya never know, it just might work. Certainly can't hurt to try. If it doesn't, oh well, it's just a bit of my time that is lost.

 

Think! Think! Think!

That's what Pooh Bear says to Eeyore when he's trying to work through a problem.
                                                                 

That's what I've been doing lately, thinking through a problem. It's not a bad problem. It's a problem many might even want.

It's my granddaughter. She's a beautiful little thing and I love her dearly. The problem is that along with her living with me, so does her Mommy and Daddy. My son also lives here and while his girlfriend doesn't technically live here, she's here most of the time, so she might as well live here.

That is the problem. Less than a year ago, it was just Musicman and myself and our one old dog living here. Privacy was not an issue and kinky activities were on the menu almost daily. Now, with the addition of 5 other people and 2 more dogs, privacy is a huge issue.

I've accepted that fact, but I am on a quest to not lose what we had. I admit, there was a period of time, before my little RJ was born, that I resented not having my privacy. One look at that sweet little babe, one sniff of that newborn smell and I was hooked. I'm quite happy she is here. I'm not so thrilled about her Daddy being here 24/7, but he's earning brownie points by taking really great care of her and her Mommy.

So, I'm on a quest to find other quieter ways for the kink to continue. Do I still have a huge need and desire for the spankings? Oh yeah, but those are only going to happen in those rare stolen moments when the house is empty. Weeks could go by before that happens. That's just not enough for me.

That's why I'm thinking, thinking, thinking. I know if I could identify and offer a few choices to Musicman of what might work for me, he would follow through. He's really a champ at that kind of thing.

We spend most evenings together, in our master bedroom, it's a really nice place, set up for our maximum comfort. I could spend time kneeling. In my mind, that would work. In reality, I'm a middle age lady with major orthopedic issues. Kneeling at his feet might get me into the headspace I long for, but the after effects, of bad pain, would impact my daily life in an extremely negative way.

I could learn to sext, maybe he would even learn to give me directions or assignments on what he wants from me. That might work, 'cept we are dinosaurs and don't have cell phones. I know, that sounds impossible, but it's the stone cold truth, my Musicman is a dinosaur.

He could direct me to wear a butt plug a certain amount of time each day. I've read many blogs where the sub has been directed to do that. It seems to be quite effective too. The problem is, I don't own one. I've thought about getting one for quite some time now. I even did a post asking for input on what to get. The resounding impact of that post was, not to get one over the internet, but to go to an actual store and get one. I've yet to get Musicman to agree to do that.

We do have nipple clamps, but they haven't been used much. There is a very simple reason for that. Musicman has extremely strong hands and the feel of him twisting or pinching is much more appealing and effective than any clamp seems to deliver. They did come with a clit clamp, but we've yet to actually try that. Hmmm....maybe that needs to be explored a bit more.

I don't have any answers yet, but I will continue to think, think, think. I'm quite determined to figure out how to be a Grandma, with a brood of people living in my home and still indulge my kinky side. I'm just not willing to let it go. Of course, if the opportunity arises that we have empty home, we will take it and indulge in a proper spanking.

Wood or Leather

Wood or leather? Wood or leather? That is what he was contemplating aloud last night as he held one of each type paddle in his hands. I knew it wasn't a question directed at me, so I said nothing. He had already removed the silky little shorts I had been wearing and I laid on  the bed waiting for him to decide.

He finally made a decision, it would be both. It took me no more than the blink of an eye to get in position. Ahhh, the sigh of contentment escaped the second the first swat of the leather paddle connected. It didn't take long for my backside to feel as if it was glowing. He seemed to enjoy the running commentary he was providing as he went about it too.

"How about a stripe here?" Or, "Oh, look, it says bitch there, maybe we should make it say bitch here too." And finally, " your ass is pretty red, that seems like a good enough warm up."

He paused a moment to check the nether regions, inquiring as he probed my folds, if I was wet. I was, which pleased him greatly. I didn't even have time to catch my breath before he took the magic paddle in hand and returned his attention to my now nicely warmed backside.

Oh, the first sting of the wood side made me about leap off the bed. However, that did not deter him from his task at hand. He would alternate between the sting of the wood side and the thud of the suede side of the paddle, occasionally rubbing in between.

I was soon reduced to a panting pile of mush. I was in that wonderful place where I would willingly do whatever he wanted of me. Turns out what he wanted to do was ring every last orgasm from my body and then push for more.

Time did not exist as my body reacted to his ministrations. My body contorted, twisting and turning in a vain effort to get closer to the source of the pleasure, him. I was a quivering, mewling mess, begging him to stop while simultaneously begging for more.

There comes a point when he builds me to fever pitch, that nothing but him inside me will quench the fire. I was definitely at that point and begging him to fuck me was the only thing I could do.

With nights like that, it's no wonder I miss my empty house.

How to Wear Stripes

The fashion guru's say that stripes aren't flattering. I've never been one to follow fashion, but I beg to differ on this one. There is definitely something to be said for the stripes I wear.

They are the stripes that come from the kiss of leather on flesh. The pretty pink lines are so appealing as I check the mirror. I twist and turn, trying to see all the evidence of a few stolen moments.

I have no concrete idea why the pain that lingers as I shower in the morning, makes me feel happy, but it does. I check and see the minute bruises that mark me. They make me smile, they make me happy. I could wonder how I became so distorted, but I don't.

I just know that what I got, was what I needed. I know I will need it again soon, too.

Life right now may be out of my control. I may need to submit and freely give, according to someone else's schedule. Not a picture I'm pleased with, because it's not his schedule either, but I'm learning to work with it. It benefits me in the end. That's something I need reminded of often.

Tomorrow life will change for us again. This will be the third major life change I've experienced in as many months. No wonder I embrace the pain and the escape it provides, that come along with the stripes I've learned to love so much.

The change that is going to happen tomorrow will make privacy even more scarce. It will require even more of my time and energy being expended on things other than what I might willingly choose to expend them on. Unfortunately, there isn't much I can do about that right now.

This change will make taking advantage of the few stolen moments available even more important for Musicman and myself. With that in mind and the need to start moving forward in my life again, I have started doing the subtle little things that help me maintain that submissive head space I crave.

It may be awhile before I see my beloved stripes again.  It may be awhile before I feel the kiss of the leather or the thud of the paddle again. Those stripes will be welcomed when the opportunity to wear them presents itself again. Until that time comes, I will be busy caring for and loving my brand new granddaughter who will make her entrance into this world tomorrow.

 I'm very sure Musicman is up to the challenge of spanking Grandma, though I'm still gonna spoil her. That's what Grandma's are for aren't they?