Reasons

Do I need a reason for him to spank me? No, not really. I'm a spanko, I like being spanked. Isn't that reason enough? If it's not, then maybe I should mention subspace and how fast spanking takes me there. That is reason enough, surely.

That is the premise I have been operating on. That is also the flaw in my plan. Just because I don't need a reason doesn't mean he doesn't. I know, it took me long enough to figure that one out. He has given me plenty of clues. I should have picked up on it sooner.

I have actually suspected for awhile that he needed a reason. I just didn't know exactly what to do with that information. I also suspect that he has been a bit conflicted about it. He says he doesn't want to micromanage me. Thank God for that, it would be a disaster. But, how do we address the fact that he seems to need a reason and I don't?

There is also the issue of me not wanting punishment. There are a few reasons for that. One is I don't see spanking as a negative thing and I don't want that to change. More importantly though, is the fact that I don't respond well to punishment. Punishment, or the threat of it, does not deter me from anything.

In fact, I react quite the opposite. Tell me I can't or shouldn't do something and I will take it as a challenge. I will go out of my way to do that thing I was told not to do and I will do it very well. I will stand up and claim it and take great pride in it with no remorse. In short, punishment is not a deterrent for me so no sense trying to make spanking a punishment.

So, how do we meet both of our needs when they seem to be diametrically opposed to each other? Yeah, that is the knot I have been trying to unravel lately. It's presented a bit of a conundrum that I haven't had the time to ponder upon.

But, I do have some ideas brewing. For instance, he could certainly use spanking as motivation, or as a reward. I respond quite well to both positive motivation and rewards. Ask me to do something and tell me you will be pleased when I do it and I'm a happy little camper. Easy, I know, but that's me.

That then presents the question of, in what areas do I need motivation? What can I do that would merit a reward? Well, I have some thoughts on that too. Are you really surprised I would? However, those things will have to wait for another day.

My man is napping and it's almost time to waken him. He isn't the easiest person in the world to wake. There are two sure ways to wake him up, sex and food. At this moment, I'm opting for food. Ya never know, that may lead to sex.

Is that one of those kinky collar things?

That's the question I was recently asked by someone in reference to my necklace.

I just smiled and said, "you never know, it just might be."

Obviously my necklace is in the collar style, but whether or not it is a collar is really up to me and the meaning I attach to it. I have thought a bit about what it means to me since I started wearing it. It really became clear what I thought about it when I removed it to start my new job.

To me a collar symbolizes ownership. Specifically his ownership of me. Do I really feel like he owns me? I wondered this for awhile and then I remembered something. I remembered a time back in the early days of our relationship. A time when his possessiveness of me was a huge issue. An issue that caused quite a few fights between us.

I remembered a specific argument we had where I was insisting to him that he couldn't own me. I used those exact words and many others, in a desperate attempt to explain to him in a way that he would understand that I could never allow that.

I also remember very clearly seeing the look on his face. That look told me in no uncertain terms that I could talk till I was blue in the face, but he wasn't going to change his mind. I was his and no one, not even me, was going to change that view.  I don't know why that argument was different from the many previous arguments.  Maybe it was the look on his face, but that is when I started to accept that he did in fact own me.

So then I wondered, what does that really mean? What does being owned look like to me? Does it mean I can never say no to anything, ever? No, and I don't think that is what he expects from me. I think for us what being his means is just that. I'm his, I don't deny him access to my body, ever, and I don't share it with anyone but him.

I've said before that Musicman is not much of a talker, rather he is a man of action. He may not say I am his very often, but he shows me everyday, through his actions.  The constant touching and groping every time I am near. It took me some time to get used to it, but not only did I get used to it, I soon learned to love it.

I became very comfortable with his constant intimate touches. I learned very quickly not to hide my body from him, he wouldn't allow that anyway. I learned very quickly that there was no good reason to deny him sex, he simply didn't accept no for an answer.

Over the years these things have had a very positive effect on me. It has made me very confident in how I look. I'm no supermodel, I definitely have my flaws, but he doesn't see them. He also doesn't allow me to say negative things about my body. Consequently, that confidence in myself has grown and spread to other areas of my life. It's made me a stronger woman then I might have been without his influence.

So, is that one of those kinky collar things? Yes, I think it is. It is a symbol of ownership, one that I am very proud of. I'm very proud to be his and I would scream it to the world if they were interested in listening.

When I took my collar off to start the new job I missed it immediately. I put it back on after only two days. So far I've gotten many compliments on it, but no questions about it's meaning. I suppose if asked my answer will depend on who is doing the asking.

                                                   

Autopilot

Wow, it's been 5 days since I posted last. I think that is the longest I've ever gone without posting. I haven't had much time to read or comment or even answer emails either. Things have been rolling right along with all the day to day things getting done and for once I haven't even really given D/s much thought.

The D/s hasn't gone by the wayside, we are just on autopilot for the moment. That's not necessarily a good thing or a bad thing. It just is. There's been plenty of sex, most of it initiated by me, which is an improvement for me. There was a lovely session with the paddle. That wasn't initiated by me, unless of course you count the fact that I had put on his favorite skirt. Hey, what can I say, it's comfy.

Having been away from reading and writing for so long has left me feeling a bit disconnected to that side of myself. I haven't been upset about it, just disconnected. I do realize that I miss it, but there doesn't seem to be any urge to push for it on my part. I'm kinda just going along to get along.

Musicman seems to be a bit tentative about initiating any kind of dominance. Can't say I blame him any for that, given how things went last weekend. What he has done has been well received by me if not necessarily enthusiastically. I was a bit reluctant when he first suggested a spanking, but once we got started it was great. It definitely helped me get through the week better.

I'm not too sure why this is happening, other than fatigue on my part, but I don't think that is the entire story. I've had a bit of a shift in the way I think about it all and just haven't really had the energy to explore that thought process. I also may be using the fact that I am busy with work as an excuse not to think about it.

Clarity is poking at the edges of my mind and I'm just not ready to deal with the glare of it yet. It's just been easier to take a step back and coast along on autopilot. Honestly, autopilot hasn't been so bad, it's been pretty smooth sailing so far.

I'm sure at some point I will get tired of cruising along on autopilot, then maybe I will have something better to offer here.

A Colossal Mess

Yes, I made a colossal mess of things. To the point that, this morning I packed up all our toys, paddles and floggers and put them away in the back of the closet. I couldn't look at them. At the time they seemed like a slap in the face to me, a road not taken, an opportunity missed.

Even though Friday night didn't go as well as we would have liked, we did work it out. I was proud of that. Saturday we were busy with chores and such. I was okay, maybe not as soft and sweet as I would have liked, but okay. I was a bit sassy and sarcastic at times, though nothing really bad or disrespectful.  Pushing him a bit maybe, to see what he would do.

He told me more then once that if I didn't change my attitude he was gonna paddle my ass. Okay, there a few things about this statement that affected me. The first one is, threatening me with a spanking is much akin to threatening a PMS'ing woman with chocolate, totally ineffective. Yet, it was quite effective in calming me down. I think the idea of him actually doing that was enough for me to feel his control, which apparently, is what I needed.

The colossal mess part comes into play when he actually followed through and did paddle me. It was late, we had watched a movie and then some TV. I had worked hard at not anticipating being spanked, I didn't want to be disappointed if it didn't happen.

It did happen, I should have been flying freely in subspace. Instead, I started crying, almost immediately. That has never happened before. I am a silent cryer and am also able to control my body movements very well, so other then the actual tears it can be very hard to detect when I am crying. Musicman has adapted well to this and often, when he thinks I might be, he brushes my face in a way that lets him feel the tears.

It took him several minutes to figure it out. Most likely he figured it out because he was spanking and I wasn't moving at all. That is so unlike me, I move quite a bit when he spanks me, cause it usually sends me right to subspace. There is no punishment aspect or negativity at all associated with spanking for me, it is pure pleasure. That is why I move so much, I'm enjoying it too much to stay still.

I'm not sure exactly what happened. He had turned the lights off and it was completely dark in the room. That's not usually the case, we generally have some kind of light on. He had turned on my mp3 player which was hooked up to the surround sound. That is not unusual for us as we both love music and often have it on when we play. The difference this time I think, was the volume changes with the song and it became quite loud very suddenly.

The biggest thing that happened I think, is that for some reason I couldn't feel him. Not the spanking mind you, that I was definitely feeling. I'm mean the energy connection to him that I feel so strongly, it was just gone. As soon as I realized that, which was almost immediately, I became overwhelmed and anxious. That is when the the tears started.

This doesn't happen very often, me not being able to feel the connection to him. It always scares and panics me when it does. What I have learned from the few times it has happened, is that the connection isn't broken, it's just too weak for me to feel. It happens when he is conflicted about what is going on between us. When he is doing something he really doesn't want to do, but does it anyway because he thinks that is what I want. That's why I always say I don't want him doing something just because he thinks it's what I want, or he feels he owes me.  I can tell that is what he is doing and it just doesn't work out well. If he is not happy, neither am I.

By the time he realized something was wrong and stopped to check on me, it was too late. I curled into a little ball, just silently sobbing. It took several minutes of him holding me and soothing me before I was able to calm down enough to say anything. Unfortunately, before I could say much more then I was overwhelmed and couldn't feel him, he said something.

He said, sometimes he's just not into it and just wants plain old sex. Guess which word I DIDN'T hear. Yep, that's right, I didn't hear the word "sometimes."  I heard, I'm just not into it and just want plain old sex. Things totally devolved from there and went from bad to worse.

Neither one of us was communicating effectively or really hearing and understanding what the other one was saying. The attempt at plain old sex was a complete failure too. We ended up falling asleep with nothing really resolved. No surprise that I slept badly, waking almost every hour. I was relieved when I woke up at 7:30 and was finally able to get up. I didn't really want to be awake and thinking though, cause I was so confused about what had happened.

As soon as he got up a few hours later, I went straight up to the bedroom and packed everything up and put it away where I wouldn't have to look at it. I was convinced that I was a freak, he didn't want this and I was done trying to force it. I was feeling totally defeated and lost. I had no idea what to do next other then leave it all behind me. I also had no idea how I was going to do that, but I didn't see any other choice at that moment.

Thank goodness that Musicman was handling it all just a bit better then I was, not much, but enough to at least approach it rationally. He followed me up to the room and insisted we were going to stay there and work it out. He told me repeatedly that he does like being in control and he does like spanking me. He also said that even though he doesn't understand why it doesn't always work out well, or why I react so strongly when it doesn't, he knows I need this. He refused to accept all my attempts to say otherwise and flat out refused any suggestions I made that it might be better if we just stopped trying.

It took awhile, but I finally agreed with him that he was right about me not being happy if we stopped. He also told me that since I was the one who put everything away, I have to get it all back out and put it back where it belongs. Then he picked up the hairbrush which was sitting on the bedside table. I hadn't packed it away with everything else cause it makes a pretty effective backscratcher.

Yes, he used it on me and, yes, I did fly into subspace. I feel much better, but I still don't quite understand exactly what happened or why. I'm sure as time goes on I will think about it and put some energy into figuring it out so it doesn't happen again. In the mean time, I'm signing up for a hormonectomy, cause the little buggers are determined to ruin my life and steal my sanity.



The caption on this pic says: Sad fairy life
                                               Alone in the forest
                                               Waiting for her charming prince.   

It seemed appropriate, my life would be more then sad if I didn't have my charming prince.

A Giant Misstep...or is it?

Sometimes things don't go so well, missteps are made, feelings are hurt, tempers fly. That is what happened last night. He took a bit of a misstep, I got my feelings hurt and then let my temper fly. Not pretty, and certainly not very submissive. Submissive? What's that?

We were both tired after a long week of work. My 2 weeks of training turned out to be 2 days of training and then left on my own to run an entire department because the woman I am job sharing with left for vacation. I wasn't too stressed about it as this is what I do, and I do it well. In fact, everyone at work is quite impressed with my abilities and they have told me so many times. So many times that I was starting to get a bit irritated with the constant surprise they displayed at my skills.

We've been having record breaking high temperatures and since Musicman's work environment is not air conditioned and involves lots of large hot machines he was suffering through it as best as he can. In this instance his best isn't very good, he doesn't do heat well at all. Add to that a bike rally being held here in town that is tying up traffic and complicating his commute, and we have one unhappy camper on our hands.

When he is tired like that, the little things go by the wayside. No little touches or  random swats, no groping everytime I came close. I was so lost in thought about the job that I barely noticed it. When I did notice, it didn't really bother me as I understood we were both tired and preoccupied. In short, there was a total lack of dominance on his part and not a thought of submission on mine.

We curled up together in bed, he clearly was in the mood for something, but was being quite passive about it. I tried to engage him some, but it didn't work. It seemed to me like he was just in the mood for what I refer to as lazy sex. Lazy sex happens when we are both tired, yet still want the connection. We know it will feel good and we will fall asleep faster and happier afterwards.

Lazy sex isn't a problem for me, at the right time and with the right circumstances it is quite appropriate and always better then nothing. Except for last night, last night, nothing would have been better. It started out just fine, he went with the tried and true 69.

I'm a big fan of 69, because the man has some incredible oral skills and it always gets me off several times. I also love having him on top in that activity cause it is so easy to take all of him in that position. The curve of his cock fits so naturally with the curve of my throat that deep throating is a cinch.  It's also a great ab workout, what better way to get some crunches in.

The problem started when all of a sudden he changed position on me and started talking. Normally I love it when he talks, the dirtier the better usually. Occasionally though, like last night, when he switches from passive to dominant in 1.5 seconds my brain can't keep up. It confuses me, it feels like a freight train barrelling down the track and right over the cliff because the bridge is out. Crash. Burn.

I crashed, I burned and I there I was, stuck in the wreckage and confusion. He knew something was wrong, he asked if I was okay. In the past I have said I was fine, even though I wasn't. That isn't what I did last night. Last night, when he asked, I exploded all over him. I told him no, I wasn't alright and why I wasn't alright.

It came out in bursts of anger and annoyance. I tried to get away from him and get out of bed. He didn't let me. He just held me still and let me rant. After I wound down he addressed what I had just said. Then I exploded all over him again, he held me some more and let me rant till I calmed again. We cycled this way a few times, until I calmed down enough to actually tell him what went wrong.

In the past something like this would have sent me spiralling for days. Withdrawing into myself and drowning in pools of tears and self doubt. Analyzing every little thing trying to figure out what went wrong. It is a vicious cycle I get stuck in, I hate it and he has little too no idea how to help me. Eventually it either passes or he steps up and the dominance comes roaring back and I feel all better.

The fact that I was able to get to the end point of the cycle in under 10 minutes is a huge accomplisment. So is the fact that I was able to tell him exactly what he did that caused the problem. I love when he is dominant, but when he turns it off and then suddenly back on, it doesn't feel like dominance to me. It feels like passive aggressive behavior on his part. That I can't handle.

He apologized, profusely. He said he owed me. I don't like him thinking that way. We don't keep score, we never have, that is not productive for us. Doesn't mean I don't want it, just means I don't like when he says that or thinks that way.

We have a full day of chores and household tasks to accomplish. Whether we accomplish anything else or not I'm leaving up to him. He's a smart guy, he knows what I need, now it's up to him to fix his misstep.

        

A Good Start, A Better End

The new job is going well. I've met lots of new people, mostly women. They seem to be an interesting bunch. A bit desperate, judging from some the conversations I've heard already, but nice enough. Most of them I won't see much of, so it shouldn't be too hard to keep my mouth shut when they start going on about sex and relationships.

I've gotten a few raised eyebrows due to my tattoo's, but I'm used to that.  A few of them heard the bells on my ankle chain and thought that was unusual too, oh well. I guess that will just give them something to talk about when I'm not around. Judging by how many times I heard, "rumor has it you worked at X, Y or Z," they gossip a lot.

They haven't even seen my chain maille corset necklace that looks much like a collar, yet. I took it off because I figured it would be better to try and blend as much as I can until I get the lay of the land. I miss not having it on. I will put it back on Friday after work and I haven't decided if I will take it off again on Monday or not. A week should be enough time for the gossip about the "new girl" to die down some, so then they will need something new to talk about.

Like much of the nation, we are having record breaking temps again, so we skipped dinner and went for a swim instead last night. We were both tired and turned in shortly after.  I should have been well rested today. I was, but not necessarily because I got so much sleep.

As it turns out Musicman had playing on his mind, or maybe it was the fact that I had changed into his favorite skirt after work that inspired him. It is a stretchy gray t-shirt material that clings to my backside in a way he likes. After a day in white cotton granny panties I needed something to make me feel sexy. The skirt doesn't particularly make me feel sexy, but Musicman can't keep his hands off me when I wear it. That makes me feel very sexy.

When we went up to our room I changed into my most comfy nightie, which is really just an oversized man's tank top. I was sitting on the edge of the bed changing and barely got it pulled on over my head before he was reaching for my hand. He had the paddle in his other hand. He directed me to the lounger and positioned me standing, bent over, with my hands on the lounge. This position works very well since I am tall.

He stood to my side and grabbed hold of my nipple to hold me still while he started paddling me. Oh, do I ever love that paddle. He can change from the leather side to the wood side without even breaking his swing. I never knew when it was going to be the sting of the wood or the thud of the leather. I didn't care either, cause they both feel good. The pain of his hand pinching my nipple while he spanked just added another layer of deliciousness for me and I was soon floating in the ether.

I was getting pretty warm as the paddle generates quite a bit of heat, when he stopped. He told me not to move, which is kinda ironic, cause I don't really hold still.  He left for a moment, then I felt the glory that is our flogger on my butt. Then on my back and legs. Then on my breasts and finally the lady parts.

I soon found myself melting into the lounge as my mind became more and more lost in need and satisfaction. Building, exploding, building, exploding. No thoughts, other then of him, just reactions. Explosive reactions to the overload of stimuli. The burn of the paddle radiating off my butt, the sting of the flogger everywhere else. The flogger emits an intoxicating smell that I equate with the smell of a blowjob, and that just adds to the whole for me. Add into the mix the heaven that is Musicman's hands and tongue and I was lost in a most beautiful place.

I barely remember Musicman's arms coming from behind me, under my arms, as he reaches around and grasps both nipples and lifts me up from the lounge.  He pulls me back and up his body, he said something, but I have no idea what, or if I responded in any way coherently. At that point I am pretty much putty in his hands.

Those wonderful hands moved me to the bed and arranged me the way he wanted me. Then he took total advantage of me. It ended with him spraying all over my face, something I always love. Cept when he gets my eye, that stings, lol.

End of an Interlude

Ah, the interlude is over, Musicman has gone back to work. Maybe now he will get some rest, lol. We were lying in bed last night, completely worn out and satisfied, when I asked him what he was going to tell his co-workers when they ask him what he did with his time off.

It seems a bit inappropriate for him to say that he made a paddle for his wife. Which makes it even more inappropriate for him to say he used it multiple times on her.  He could tell them how I made a temporary suede leather cover for the paddle that we test drove Saturday night. It's divine.

He could tell them how I can't resist playing with our shiny new toys and became a bit aggressive with the bullet vibe and my hands and mouth on his beautiful cock after the spanking. Or how that was just one of many times this weekend I had him in my mouth. Proof positive the man never gets tired of getting blowjobs. Heeheehee.

He could tell them how he turned the tables on me and tortured me with that bullet vibe until I was literally whimpering for more. He just chuckled, kinda fiendishly and took his time while he took my breathe away, repeatedly.

He could tell them how our plans for Sunday Morning were rained out. But it might not be such a good idea to share that instead, he woke me with roaming hands and soon had me whimpering again with pleasure, and that was before the flogger came into play.

He could tell them how it took 73 brass tacks for me to permanently fasten the leather on the paddle. I just covered one side, the other we left the way it was. The leather side has a bit more of a thud than the wood, which has a delicious sting to it. The anticipation between swats is just as powerful of a turn on for me as the actual swat. Knowing that all he has to do is switch from side to side to change the sensation is quite enticing to me. Knowing how well he reads me, I anticipate he will use it very effectively to keep me guessing.

We opted not to put holes in this one, he assures me has plenty of wood to make another one. So, at some point we will have a paddle with holes. Now, I just need to decide on the pattern for the holes, maybe a word.

I don't know what he will tell them, but I know it won't be any of the things I mentioned above. Musicman is never inappropriate, unlike me. He did comment to me that he is having more sex then when he was 28, or 38 for that matter. He assured me that was just an observation, not a complaint. That's always nice to know, especially since I'm the one he is having the sex with, just as it was when he was 28 and 38.

Today I have been cleaning the aftermath of the 4 days of play. Picking up clothing scattered randomly, in our haste to get naked. Towels galore, utilized for the many post coital cleanups, need laundered.  Sheets with the corners that popped free in the vigorous moments of play, removed and replaced with fresh. Don'tcha just love the challenge of clean sheets? Washing and putting away the vibes and paddles and floggers scattered around the area. We keep everything on the headboard of the bed, it's a mirrored bookcase headboard. Many more implements or toys and I am going to have to think of something else. It's getting crowded up there.

While I've been cleaning, various thoughts about the weekend have floated through my mind. Looking back at the things we tried that worked really well and the things that didn't. I asked Musicman yesterday if there was anything he hadn't done this weekend that he wanted too? There was one thing, yeah, that thing I can't name yet. It didn't happen, but we are making progress with it. We talked just a bit about why it didn't happen, and where we go from here, to get there.

I have realized we both have a few goals, things we would like to see happen on the next step of our journey. They are the same goals, but, as usual, we aren't approaching them the same way. This doesn't surprise me a bit, as we never do approach solving issues the same way. The discussions we had about this have given me the seeds of some answers, but they aren't fully bloomed yet. Once they are, I will propose them to Musicman and see what he thinks.

Unfortunately, it may be a bit before I get the chance to let them bloom as I start my new job tomorrow. I will be working full time for the next two weeks at least, so that will cut into my kinky thinking time. That's okay though, I am looking forward to starting this job and think in the long run, focusing on that for a bit will be a big benefit. Once I get through the orientation/training, which I don't anticipate will be more then two weeks, I will be able to settle in to a nice part time schedule.

Then, let the blooming begin. 

So, I may not be around as much the next few weeks, but if I'm not don't worry, I will be back soon and ready to play again.

Musicman's Paddle

Thursday we had a lazy day, beginning with a blowjob for Musicman when he woke up. It doesn't have to be his birthday for me to want to give him a BJ first thing in the morning, I find it a delightful way to start the day. Since he never stops me, I'm assuming he likes it too.  There was an after breakfast spanking and sex and then Musicman took a nap. The man requires a lot more sleep then I do and I have no problems with him napping when he gets the opportunity.

We had talked off and on over the course of the day about the birthday spanking, but he was tired and it didn't happen. Wish I could say I was good with that, but judging by my mood yesterday, I wasn't. I tried not to be cranky and nit picky, but I was failing pretty miserably.

We had a busy day of errands and shopping. It was hot and humid and we encountered idiots everywhere we went. That didn't help either one of our moods. By mid afternoon we had completed everything we needed to accomplish and decided to just relax and hangout in the pool and cool off.

After swimming I decided to shower and primp and pamper myself. That always helps me feel better. I bought a new dress while were shopping. It looks like this, only in black. It is really a bathing suit cover up, but I would wear it out with a pretty slip under it. Since I wasn't planning on going out, I wore it alone. Musicman approved.



While I was showering he was out in the garage working on something. I soon found out what that something was. I was lounging on the bed watching some TV when he came in with his project. He made a paddle. It is 3/4" thick, 12" long excluding the handle and 3 1/2 " wide. I don't know what kind of wood it is, but it is very light in color.

He said I could finish it anyway I wanted. He asked if I wanted holes in it. Hmmm...not sure, let's give it a try first and then I will decide. He told me he made it big enough to cover both my cheeks at once. Oh, yes, it does indeed cover both cheeks at once.

So, we gave it a try. I was already lying on the bed and if he blinked he missed how fast I turned over onto my stomach. He told me to count and then, Whack. He doesn't often make me count, though I have found the few times he has that it really adds to the experience for me.

I have also realized that it takes me a couple swats to get started counting. I think that is because it takes me a few minutes to get focused enough. If I don't have to count I can just fly away on the endorphin rush right from the beginning. When I do have to count it takes me a moment to harness those endorphins and get my brain to work.

He probably should have just kept swatting me and telling me to count until I did. Instead he helped me count until I could get it together and do it myself. It took me until number seven to get it together enough to start counting.

Sometimes he went slow and I had plenty of time to absorb the pain and the bloom of pleasure, and then get the next number out. Sometimes he went fast and I was literally panting the numbers out. He used it to massage my legs with little chops from the edge of the paddle all up and down my legs. I love when he does that, it is so relaxing. As soon as I get all nice and relaxed, WHAP, a hard one delivered right to the butt. That makes me jump.

He turned 48 and when I got to number 40 he picked up not only the speed, but the intensity. The last 8 were fast and furious. Then he stopped and rubbed and whispered in my ear checking to see if I was okay. Oh yeah, I was way okay. So he continued spanking me. He covered my butt and my thighs quite nicely. I didn't continue counting past 48, but I'm pretty sure he added a couple decades to his age.

Many orgasms later I decided I quite like his paddle and told him I wanted to negotiate for twice weekly sessions with it. We are still discussing whether or not to put holes in it. I think I would like to try holes, but I also want to cover one side with the leather I have. I already have brass tacks that should look pretty snazzy down the side of the paddle.  He says there is no reason to do holes if I am going to put leather on one side.

I see his point, but I still think I might want the holes. So, what's your opinion, holes, or no holes?

While I'm Celebrating

We are busy celebrating Musicman's Birthday, so while we are doing that I want to encourage you to visit my friend PK at  New Beginnings. PK hosts a Fantasy Friday feature on her blog. It showcases lots of great writers and their stories.

My first attempt at writing was a piece for Friday Fantasy, and then I soon graduated to blogging. I know I am not the only blogger that began this way either. I much prefer blogging, because I don't think I am very good at fantasy writing. I enjoy doing it, but I struggle with it too. Consequently, I haven't written but a couple pieces. I did one recently that is posted here.

PK is always looking for more stories and is very encouraging and supportive of everyone that writes for Friday Fantasy. She has all the info on where to send it at the end of her posts on Fridays. So if you have a story in you, or just think you might, go ahead, give it a try. If I can do it, so can you.

I Thought I'd Share

I've been having a lovely day today.  The sun is shining and it's not too hot. My pie has a broken purple crust, but that is just making me laugh at this point. I've spent my day cleaning and prepping and wracking my brain for something special for Musicman.

He is not an easy man to surprise, or even to do nice things for. While I was thinking about why that was I thought I would take this opportunity to share a bit more with you about Musicman. After all, we all know I'm just a silly girl, he is the real star of this show. At least he is for me, so don't dis allusion me, I won't appreciate it.

Musicman is a very responsible man, he does not really know how to relax. He doesn't really have hobbies or spend much time just enjoying life. He works very hard, and if left to his own devices he would never remember to stop and enjoy the fruits of his labors. He is much, much too serious. That is where I come in. I recognized this about him a long time ago, and took it upon myself to help him.

So, I have all kinds of ideas and suggestions for things we can do over the next few days. I will present all the ideas and see if any of them survive his first perusal. Some of them will not and will then be off the table. The rest will likely go in the maybe pile, further discussions will be held, negotiations completed, with each idea or suggestion. Of course the final decision is his. That's just the way it has always been with us. And I don't have any problem with that.

I enjoy the whole process of negotiating and trying to get some of my wilder ideas approved. If I can get him to do something really silly with me, well...then we all win. That rarely happens though, which has probably saved my hide more times then I care to think about. I still try though, I'll never stop trying.

I'll never stop trying because he needs me to push him, to have fun and take some pleasure in the frivolities of life. As I said, I expect there will be a lot of negotiating about different things, and I like these exchanges. It is a good exercise for us in communicating. We communicate very differently, approach almost any given situation differently. I still marvel how differently sometimes.

I enjoy his points of view, and often find myself  being grateful. I'm grateful that he sees the things I don't, he thinks about the possibilities and consequences I haven't considered. I know he is often flabbergasted with how my mind works. I don't blame him, I am too.

I don't think I've ever told him how fascinated I am with the way his mind works. During these times of negotiating my little adventures, I often find myself in awe. Awe that he can so easily see all those tiny things I don't. The tiny things that when missed are gonna be the ones I trip and fall on. The practical things that I never worry about, cause that's not fun. It's something I have come to rely on him doing for me.

I'm in awe of his own personal strength. The strength that would never let me walk all over him or push him around, and do whatever I want, just because I might want to. Even when I don't get one of my ideas past his approval, I never resent it, because I know he has a good reason for it. Usually that reason is my safety, he is not a selfish man and would never deny me anything just because he can.

I also love the energy generated during these negotiations. It is a very positive energy that develops from us working together as a team. We look at all sides of the situation, each one of us contributing our own unique insights and working together to meld them into a workable plan. I find it very satisfying, and think it really strengthens our basic foundation for dealing with life together.

I'm planning on pampering him, and pushing him, and negotiating wild adventures that if done right will lead to fun experiences and wonderful memories. I'm hoping he will relax and enjoy life some, maybe set practicality aside for just a little while. I'm hoping I can convince him to be carefree and silly with me for just a brief moment or two. I'm hoping I can bring as much joy to his life as he brings to mine.

And of course there's the birthday spanking too.

Just a Few Things

We had a lovely weekend with lots of playtime. Some things worked wonderfully well, others not so much.  There was a lot of teasing and talking too. Sometimes we found the answers to our questions, sometimes, not so much. We covered a lot of ground and I am still digesting it all.  I have lots to sort through when the dust clears a bit more.


I had a bit of an off day yesterday. Not as bad as usual which I'm grateful for, but still bad enough for me to think endlessly about why I was feeling off. Bad enough for Musicman to notice and comment on. Bad enough that he was worried about me. I don't like to worry him, especially when he has to go to work.

I don't know that I have any more answers today than I did yesterday, but I do feel more myself today.

 I have realized a few things:

• Sometimes standing still is progress. I'm not so good at standing still.
• When the negative thoughts take over, my brain becomes jet propelled. (observation courtesy of Musicman)
• When I perceive a lack of dominance on his part, it triggers the negative thoughts.
• The negative thoughts are deeply rooted in my self confidence and self worth. I don't know why.
• In an effort to avoid facing and dealing with my insecurities, I blame Musicman and certain actions of his, for them. I know that is wrong.
• When I distance, I not only distance from him, but from everything, including myself. I become a total void of emotion, of any kind.
• The ride my mind takes on the crazy train exhausts me physically and mentally.
• Once I've boarded the crazy train, I can't stop it, or get off it by myself.

I don't know what I will be doing with these new insights, but at least it is a place to start. I'm going to let them just be for a while. Overthinking them and worrying endlessly about them will just send me spiralling again.

Musicman's birthday is Thursday, he took a few days off of work. We will have 4 uninterrupted days to do whatever we wish. I like to plan something special for him for his birthday. They are really no big deal to him, and he doesn't expect anything special. That's why it is so much fun to do it for him.

Unfortunately, as of right this moment, I got nothing. So, any suggestions?

Now I'm off to practice making blueberry pie. It is Musicman's favorite and pies are the one thing I am terrible at baking. Seriously, I mess up store bought crust. Who does that?

Plain Brown Boxes

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Lovely

A big thank you to Fondlers Anonymous and reneerose for the honor of naming me on their Lovely Blog Award list. Bratty Addy and slightly naughty princess also gave me shout outs for the award. All great ladies with wonderful blogs.

As I understand it, I am supposed to list 7 things you don't know about me and then nominate 15 bloggers I like.  Seven things you may not know about me is harder then you might think, cause I tell everything on my blog already. I'm gonna give it a try though, cause I'm nosy and I love to find out more about the friends I visit with, so tit for tat so to speak.

1. I'm terrified of public speaking and would voluntarily stand naked before a crowd if it meant I didn't have to speak.  The blank comment box on blogs sometimes has this effect on me too.

2. I don't live by the rules, I make my own as I go.

3. I'm an eternal optimist.

4. My children say I love the dog more then I love them. I say that's because the dog listens and doesn't talk back when I tell him something.  My children would make great lawyers, cause then they would get paid to argue.

5. I have a green thumb, but only with potted plants.

6. I sleep very little and eat even less, but don't mess with my coffee.

7. I like my gray hair and have even learned to love my skunk stripe in the front.

8. I'm a woman with a past, yet I'm very naive about some things.

9. I've had sex with more men then I can count, but I've been in a monogamous relationship for almost 27 years now. I much prefer monogamy.

10. I'm a middle child that identifies as a first child due to the way I was raised.

11. I bought my home because it has floor to ceiling bookshelves. When I was single I moved on the average of every 7 months, the one thing I always took with me was my books.

12. I don't believe in getting revenge, but I do believe in Karma. It will get ya, ya know.

13. Blogging sometimes makes me feel like the little kid on the playground who wants to play with the big kids and the big kids aren't interested. I find this ironic as I never felt this way when I was a kid on a playground.

14. I'm not afraid of dying, I'm just not ready to do it yet.

15. I believe that multiple orgasms are my reward for PMS, childbirth and menopause.

Okay, that's 15 things you might not have known about me. I know I was supposed to only do 7, see # 2 above.  I am now supposed to nominate other bloggers for the award. I am going to respectfully decline that part, and instead refer you to my blog list.

I can not in good conscience pick just 15 blogs, I love them all. I read a diversity of blogs from vanilla to non. I read the blogs I do primarily because I like the energy of the person writing that particular blog. I feel a connection, a commonality with the people I read, that's why I read them. Everyone has a story to tell, if I'm reading yours it's because I find it interesting, informative, entertaining and stimulating. That's the recipe for good reading material if you ask me. So take some time and browse my list, you never know where you might find a kindred soul.


 

  I couldn't pick just one faerie pic today, so you get two, enjoy.                     

                                                                                    
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Heeheehee

I'm having a lazy Saturday afternoon, lolling about in the airconditioning trying to keep cool. Musicman is napping, recooperating from some Saturday afternoon playtime.

We did some errands this morning, and thought about taking a dip in the pool, but when we came up to our room to change our clothes Musicman changed the plans. I'm thinkin' he was a bit randy cause we had been talking and teasing all morning about last nights activities. We tried out one of the new toys, heeheehee.

The new toy is lovely and will soon get a review. I'd like to give it another go before I try and explain how much I LOVE it :) Besides that I seem to have developed a terminal case of the giggles that I just can't get rid of. They started last night and it is seriously affecting my ability to focus, teeheehee.

See...told ya!   (yes, I'm giggling through this entire post, and Musicman is napping right through it, just feet away.)


Anyway, back to earlier, Musicman decided to take a shower. It was clear he intended to get dirty again after the shower. He was being all Domly, it was so cute, saying things that at most times would totally flip my switches. They were flipping my switches, but they also re-ignited the giggles.

He told me to do something specific while he was in the shower, my response was to giggle. He told me something else to do while he was in the shower, my response was to giggle harder. He tried to be stern, but my giggles were starting to effect him too. When it degenerated to the point that everything he said just sent me into fits of laughing he finally gave up and got in the shower.

I had every intention of doing the things he told me to do, once I stopped laughing. I did get a start on the first one, but he takes quick showers. He came in from the shower wrapped in a towel and laid on the bed. He waited patiently for me to finish the first task. It was not going well, and I did not set out to intentionally distract him, but that's kinda what happened.

Musicman started on a new med 6 months ago when he had his surgery that causes him to bruise very easily. He has a very physical job, the amount of bruises he gets all over him still surprise me. With him lying on the bed in nothing but a towel I saw several nasty looking bruises. It has become my habit to kiss all his bruises. Cause faerie kisses cure everything, don'tcha know. 

So I started kissing his bruises. Bruises on his chest, bruises on his arm, bruises on his back and shoulder. By then I just couldn't resist licking his scar and planting little faerie kisses down it. Weird thing to do, I know, but licking and kissing his scar is a habit I picked up after his transplant surgery, that's a pretty wicked scar.

The whole time I was kissing him he was whispering things to me. Whispering of the things we had done the night before and the things we were gonna do now. No giggles this time, thank goodness.
I asked him if I missed any bruises. He said no, but his balls were a bit tender from the night before.

Well, since faerie kisses cure everything, I couldn't skip them. One of the things we got in the mail was a bullet vibrator, we hadn't tried it yet. I postioned myself between his legs, he had the controller and handed me the bullet vibrator. Sore boys need lots of gentle lovin'. Long slow licks, all around, followed closely by the bullet, seemed to work wonders. Long sweeps across the boys with the flat of my tongue followed by circles with the point of the bullet. Circles with the bullet continue, as I lick up his now fully erect shaft. Circle the tip and sweep over the smooth head with the bullet, then plunge him as far into my mouth as I can manage, pushing the vibe ahead of me down his cock.

I worked the bullet around the base of his shaft and around the boys as I eagerly licked and sucked all of him in. I held the tip of the bullet at the edge of my mouth as I sucked him in and out, rotating my head as I went so I could cover every inch with the vibe as well as my mouth.  I placed my lips around the outside of his shaft and slid up and down while holding the bullet on the otherside and taking it with me with every stroke.

Things get a bit fuzzy here, cause we were both pretty worked up. I know he dropped the vibe conroller at some point, cause he buried both hands in my hair. He started thrusting his cock into my mouth. All I could do was hold on for the ride and try to remember not to drop the vibe. I could barely remember to breath much less anything else.

I soon found myself flipped over, face down, he grabs my legs and pulls me into position. He's between my legs looming over my back, he bends forward, hands me the vibe and tells me to put it on my clit and not to drop it.

Umm..yeah...sure, I'll give that a try, but I highly doubt it's gonna hapen. That's what I thought, what I said sounded more like, yesyesyesyessiiiiiir. After that, all bets were off. He plunged so deep and so fast and that darn little bullet vibrating away against my clit. Not a hope in heck I'm gonna remember anything but bliss.

When it was over, I dropped the hand with the vibe in it as he pulled out of me. The juices literally dripped from me, all over the palm of my hand resting on the bed with the bullet still vibrating away on it. It drenched a good portion of my skirt which he had just pulled up instead of removing.

Yeah, I'm thinking that bullet vibe is gonna be a lot of fun. We had never tried anything like it before, and I got it free for signing up for edenfantasys newsletter. I can't begin to put a price on how much fun that was, but free is even better. If you haven't tried one, I highly recommend it.


Any bets on whether Musicman remembers that I distracted him instead of doing what he told me to do? Heeheehee.

Triggers and Memories

I'm having a very domestic day, working through a few persistent memories that keep popping into my head lately. I'm almost done, the house fairly sparkles, but it's hot and I'm melting, so I'm taking a break.

As an abuse survivor, triggers are a part of my life, I've accepted that and have learned, for the most part, to deal with them. Ones that I know will cause me problems, I avoid if I can. Often though, I can't avoid them. Sometimes, it is more an accumulation of bits of information, gleaned from the news and from reading blogs.

These bits of information at some point reach critical level. It feels like a punch in the gut, twisting ever tighter, it can sometimes make me physically nauseous. That's about when the memories flood in. They overwhelm me, and often send me into a spiral of pain and doubt, darkness and self loathing.

One particularly persistent memory lately takes me back to the time period when I experienced very bad flashbacks. They would send me into a total animalistic panic. This occurred during the first few years we were together.  They always occurred during intimate moments and all I really remember is freaking out and fighting to get away. This memory has been poking at me for months, and I have been resistant to it. I don't want to remember those things.

I've been feeling stronger though lately, and I know I need to face this demon or I will never be able to put it to rest. I've started to allow this memory and to my surprise, it is not painful. It is not the memories that triggered those panic attacks that are coming back to me.

The memories coming back to me are of Musicman. Musicman restraining me with his body, holding my face in his hands. His voice, so low, steady and strong, whispering to me. His eyes, so close I can see his soul, I instinctually know it is a safe place to be.

I'm starting to remember more, I remember his hands gently stroking my face, wiping away the tears. The terror fades under his ministrations. Slowly, so he doesn't scare me, letting his hands roam a little further, brushing my hair back from my face as he lightly kisses the tip of my nose, and the lightest of brushes across my lips.  He maintains eye contact as much as possible, more then I am confortable with, but he insists I look at him. He insists that I see HIM. HE is the only one there with me, and HE will always be there with me. I'm safe.

He continues to move slowly, caressing a breast, then stroking down my belly, gently so he doesn't spook me, still maintaining eye contact and whispering words I don't remember. He slowly slides off my body, but he doesn't go far, I'm clinging to him like a drowning person to a life preserver. His mouth is right next to my ear, whispering softly, so softly. He never stops talking to me, keeping my focus on HIM.

His hand reaches between my legs to stroke and I start to panic, but he's whispering those words in my ear. I don't know what the words he kept whispering to me were. I just know they worked, they made me feel whatever it was I needed to feel to be okay. It's a feeling I can recall but can not express. I calm again, he touches me and this time I feel pleasure. I feel the kind of pleasure only he can give me.

He works me into an orgasmic frenzy with just a hand and his words, guiding me, away from the pain and the terror. Guiding me into a a whirlwind of physical and emotional release and surrender no other person ever has.

I see his face again, suddenly, looming above me, it's no longer his hand I feel between my legs. He enters me in one smooth motion and I know I'm home. He starts to move slowly, excruciatingly slowly, and I want more, I need more. I want to touch heaven and I know he can take me there. I am no longer a broken, passive, ball of pain. I move beneath him, answer him thrust for thrust, digging my feet into his back, urging him to go faster. Please, give me more, I need more.

He sets the pace, only picking up speed when he is ready. He holds my face again between his hands, demanding that I look at him as he spills his seed so deep. There is no doubt I belong to him. I see that fact in his eyes.



I just found this posted on facebook and it seemed appropriate for this post.

Vanilla...with Sprinkles Please

I have a few updates to share with ya'll, some vanilla, some not.

First the vanilla one: My job status. I hadn't wanted to write about what happened, because that's not really the purpose of this blog, but I needed to get it out. The support I received was truly amazing and helped me keep the faith that good things would happen. They have.

I stumbled on what seemed like the perfect opportunity for me on Sunday. I really didn't think I would ever find this situation because they are so rare here, but there it was right before my very eyes. First thing Monday morning I followed up on the opportunity, applying and doing an initial interview. Tuesday I did a second interview and was offered and accepted the position. I am still working on firming up all the details, but I have a tentative start date of July 16.

This position is in health care, and as I said, for various reasons is a rare occurrence here. It offers the hours I want, it's close to home and the pay is good. I felt an immediate connection with the manager when we met and feel that once I get started I will actually fit in with the rest of the staff quite well. It offers me the opportunity to utilize the experience and knowledge I have gained over the last 30 years and, I again feel as if I will be able to provide quality care for the patients without it totally draining me.

So, while my attempt to leave the health care field failed, I feel like I have won. I really never wanted to leave health care because being a caregiver is a huge part of who I am. Years of working for the large health care corporations here in the area caused me to become so burned out that I knew I could no longer go on giving so much of myself to the job. It is truly a miracle that I found this situation and I'm taking it as a sign that there are still people in this world that I can help. That makes me very happy.

On to the non vanilla update: my toys arrived today.  I spent some time reading all the comments and suggestions I received on this post. I checked out all the companies everyone suggested. Then I spent some time just looking at things. So much to look at and consider. I decided on one item, just to find out it was currently out of stock, so that remains on the wish list. I looked some more and found something that intrigued me quite a bit, and it's pretty too. It was in stock, so I placed the order, picked from some free gifts being offered and for the sum total of $1.98 I received three items.

I didn't tell Musicman that I ordered anything, thought it would be fun to surprise him. The items are now residing on our bed for him to find and the required batteries for one of the items are on my shopping list. We just happen to be doing our shopping tonight, great timing that is.

I purposely haven't said what the items are yet because I would rather try them first, but, they look like fun. I will be giving a full update after we have tried the items. Musicman's birthday is next week and he took a few days vacation, so we should have plenty of time to break them in.

The last thing I wanted to mention is the banner I added for Love Boudoir. I had never heard of them or visited their site. I received an email from John telling me they liked my writing, he said it was delicious, and they were adding me to their site. They gave me a link to the banner if I wanted to add it. I went and checked out the site, wow. They have tons of blogs, both written and pics listed on the site. 

I never imagined when I started this blog that anyone would really be interested in reading it. I am happily surprised that people not only read, but comment too. Having a big site like that find me and feel that my writing was quality enough for them to add feels like a huge honor. Who'da thunk, lil ole me, a real sex blogger?

If you are looking for something new to read or look at go check them out, they have something for everyone. Hopefully I added the banner right and you can just click on it, if not google it and then tell me what I did wrong if it didn't work.

Musicman To The Rescue

If you read my last post you know I had a disastrous day at the job and ended up quitting. Not my best moment to say the least. My big concern is that Musicman not have to pick up extra hours at work. He used to work 6 days a week and has resisted going back to that since his surgery. We both agreed we didn't want that and that if I got a part time job he wouldn't need too. That's why I was working and that's why I feel guilty that I wasn't able to handle the situation better.

As usual though, Musicman came to my rescue and made me feel much better. We spent sometime doing chores together, like bathing our poor old dog and vacuuming the pool. I love to vacuum the pool, I find it very soothing. We even actually spent some time in the pool. I floated around on the raft while Musicman played with my swimsuit and exposed and explored parts of me that never get to see the sunshine. That distracted me pretty effectively. As darkness fell we sat and watched the fireflies until the skeeters decided we would make a good snack. We then adjourned to the house, he to the shower and me to the bedroom.

When he came in the bedroom with just a towel wrapped around him I was lounging on the bed. I did not stay there for long as he had ideas on how to really make me feel better. He pulled me up off the bed. Before I knew what was happening I was facing the lounge and bent over with my sundress flipped up about my waist. I barely had time to brace myself with my hands before I face planted right into the lounge.

Smack, aahhhh, the flogger. That's sure to make a sad faerie happy in a hurry. He proceeded to warm my backside. I'm not great at staying still and would occasionally start to sink at the knees, he fixed that by smacking my thighs everytime it happened. That was quite effective in straightening me back up. Then I started to sink at the elbows, now wanting to face plant into the lounge. I don't know how long it was, before he grabbed my hair and pulled me upright against him and said something about needing more.

I don't actually remember, but I must have said yes cause back over I went. Smack, smack, smack, smack went the flogger, at some point he repositioned me.  I was still standing bent over the lounge, but my legs were now spread wide giving him easy access to the lady parts.  Oh, yes please, I love, love, love the flogger applied to the lady parts.

Everything becomes a bit of a blur after that and I have no idea how he does it, but I would swear the man has more then two hands. I remember hands pulling and pinching my nipples, hands exploring the freshly flogged lady parts, and the flogger still in action. Obviously that's too many hands for just one man, but that's how I remember it.

I remember his tongue invading the aforementioned freshly flogged lady parts. I remember sailing through the stars and watching the fireworks burst in beautiful colors all around me.  I remember feeling my bones melt right out of my body. I remember touching heaven, several times, before bursting into millions of tiny little pieces. Floating gently in nirvana, not a care in the world, nor even an awareness of the world past my own nerve endings.

I remember being pulled up and turned around and pushed back down, face level with his beautious cock, mmm...yummy. He was just being a tease though. He only let me taste briefly before I was again turned around  and bent over to receive that wonderful hard cock. I was so ready at that moment, I needed to feel him in me so badly. I would have begged if I could have formed enough of a thought to make my voice work.

Several orgasms later I was so relaxed and yet so turned on still that I didn't even blink when he said he was gonna fuck me in the ass. I don't do anal well at all and usually tense up if he says anything along those lines. Didn't happen this time though, I started to tense a bit when I felt him first start to breach the back door. I very vividly remember the thought "breathe" go flying through my head, so I did, and I stayed relaxed, shoved myself backwards even to take more of him.

I honestly don't know why it worked so well this time, but boy howdy did it work. I'm going to assume that since he was buried deep in my ass, it was his hands I was feeling stimulating the lady parts. I remember later telling him that if I get any closer to squirting without actually squirting I will die. But oh, what a way to go.  La Petite Morte, indeed!

I just layed where I collapsed on the lounge, drifitng in the post orgasm haze, while he cleaned me up with a towel. Good thing he did, cause I would not have been able to reach all the cum he sprayed over my back and butt.

I rested and recooped while he cleaned up and got a snack. Such a great guy I have, I was laying in bed where he eventually joined me. He rolled me over and proceeded to administer a lovely handspanking and several more orgasms. He did eventually indulge me in my quest to have him in my mouth. It had been a few days and I was seriously craving the taste of him. He made me beg for it, and beg I did, it was totally worth it.

He still seems surprised sometimes when he reads here. He says I portray him as perfect. He's a smart guy, you would think by now he would realize he is perfect, for me. Once again, my hero rescued me.

When A Faerie Explodes

Warning: Vanilla rant ahead, read at your own peril.

The new job is not going as well as I would have liked. I love the work I do, I love the customers I serve. I have a real problem with the lack of professionalism and immaturity displayed not only by my co-workers but more importantly by the boss. The boss is ineffectual and unprofessional. I can tolerate a lot of crap on the job, unprofessional behavior is not one of them. To say it isn't going well would be a huge understatement.

I am an adult, I conduct myself in an adult manner on the job. I take pride in my level of professionalism and the quality of work I produce. I expect others to do the same. Do common courtesy and a good work ethic even exist anymore?  I find myself mired in a department of women who specialize in temper tantrums, lying, backstabbing, deceit and general laziness.  I don't play those kind of games, what you see is what you get with me.

Friday at work was such a nightmare I had a complete and total meltdown when I got home. It took hours of Musicman listening to me vent before I calmed down. He didn't used to be very good at listening to me vent. His first instinct was to fix things for me, not possible when it comes to the job.  Over the years, after me repeatedly saying to him, "I don't need you to fix this, I just need you to listen," he's gotten much better at doing just that.

I do value his opinion on the situation and am grateful for all the support and advice he gives me. He very often sees things differently then I do. He is also quite good at removing the emotion from the situation and presenting me with achievable solutions. Yes, given enough time, I would most likely get to those same solutions, he just cuts to the chase for me. I appreciate that.

Saturday morning dawned overcast and muggy. I dragged my exhausted body out of bed and off to work. I wasn't happy about it, but feeling better about how to handle the situation. I spoke with the boss regarding the previous days events and the fact that certain behaviors and the consequent results of those behaviors where entirely unacceptable to me. She agreed and promised to address the situation.

She did speak with one young woman, the major offender from the day before. Unfortunately, as soon as the boss left to attend a meeting this young woman thought it would be a wise idea to confront me about the situation. It was glaringly obvious that this young woman had no remorse regarding her disgustingly unacceptable and unprofessional behavior. Her issue was that she got called on that behavior, she blamed me for that.

I did my best to keep my cool and deal with her in an adult professional manner, but that only works to a point. Push me hard enough and I will explode, the conversation quickly reached that point. I found myself with a decision to make, attack or walk away.

I wanted to attack, oh how I wanted to attack, I was literally seeing red. For just a moment I gave reign to the thoughts urging me to go over the counter and grab the bitch by the throat. I was gonna hurt her and I was gonna hurt her bad. See, I may look like a mild mannered, middle aged mom, but looks can be deceiving. Deep, deep down inside me resides the street fighter I was growing up. I had to be a fighter to survive. I've worked hard over the years to let her go as I rarely need her now, but she will never be entirely gone.

I'm proud of the fact that I did not unleash my temper on her. If I had I would most likely being doing this post from a jail cell, cause they surely would have had reason to charge me with assault, if not murder. Years spent alone with no one to protect me but myself has made me very good at it. I haven't had to protect myself in a long time, Musicman does that for me now, but I do still have a strong self protection instinct.

No, I didn't attack, I did the mature thing and walked away. The not so mature thing about walking away was I didn't stop walking. I walked right out of the department, cleared out my locker, walked out of the store, got in my car and drove home. In a 30+ year work history, I've never done that before.

Tomorrow I start the search for a new job. I will also have to contact human resources and make arrangements to return my uniforms, that should be an interesting conversation. Sometimes being a mature responsible adult really sucks.

  Musicman has spent his weekend calming one pissed off faerie.