Reflections

Traditionally, this is the time of year for reflection. A time of year when we review the past and plan for the future. I'm no different, except for the fact that I suck at planning for the future. I find it a somewhat futile past time, since I firmly believe, we are not promised tomorrow and should live for today.

As I look back, I vividly remember this time of year, last year. I remember telling a friend how I was dreading the coming of the new year. She posited that it was because I might be superstitious. That maybe the year 2013 was an issue for me. That wasn't it.

I'm not really a superstitious person. I have no problems with black cats, cracks in the side walk or ladders. Friday the 13? My first thought? Thank goodness it's Friday. No, it was not superstition that was making me dread the coming year, it was gut instinct.

I very much remember the growing dread, building within me, as the days of the year ticked by. I wanted to ignore it, I wanted to think I was just being a silly goose. Worrying for no good reason, about something I knew nothing about.

As the first few days came and went and nothing horrific happened, I tried so hard to convince myself that I needed to ignore that gut instinct that was so persistently predicting gloom and doom. That's when the phone rang. A phone call that would unleash a flood of visions, visions that would soon become reality. A reality that held an unreal, eerie, de ja vu quality to it.

The year would shape up to be one of the most challenging of my adult life. It would present challenges that I never thought to face. It would bring loss, of such dimensions, I am still trying to fathom. It would bring love, so vast, as to overcome the circumstances of her being.

I would lose so much of myself, in service to others, that it no longer fulfilled me as it used to do. I would spend inordinate amounts of time, mourning for what I had lost. Moments would come, when I would find it necessary to dig deep, pull myself out from the quagmire and just breathe. I would look for the lessons, yet find them to painful to learn. This last year has felt a bit like being stuck in quicksand. The harder I fight, the faster I go down.

Now, here we are, just a scant few hours from the new year. For the first time in 19 years it will start with a new moon. As someone of the fae persuasion, how can I possibly ignore that sign? My gut is telling me, this year will be as life changing as the last, but it will be up to me to make those changes.

I feel like this is the year I need to take my power back. I no longer believe that living as a submissive, on a day to day basis, is healthy for me. Oh, make no mistake, I'm still a masochist. I still crave the pain and domination that comes with the very rare opportunity for playtime. I am very much hoping those activities continue to grow and expand.

I just don't believe that I can continue to put him and everyone else, first in my life. This is going to be my year. The year that I make the positive changes in my life that I have needed to make for some time. I will put myself first this year. I will take care of myself. I will replace negative habits, with positive ones. I will move on, taking steps toward happiness.

I may no longer stop to consider how he feels, he may have to scramble to keep up with me, or he may have to let me go. That choice will be his to make. I have made mine. It's a gut instinct, I've learned not to ignore those.

Christmas Gifts, Sub Style

For many reasons I won't go into, this particular holiday has been very difficult for Musicman and myself for many years now. In fact, I can't really remember the last time we celebrated, or enjoyed this particular holiday. I had thought to try this year, but things going on here have made that nearly impossible, so we aren't.

There is no tree, no lights, no cookies, no presents, except for one. We aren't attending any parties, though we may spend some time Christmas Eve with extended family. I say may, because we haven't decided on that for sure yet.

You may be wondering what doom and gloom I'm driveling on about now, but there is one thing I'm excited about. I am planning something, as a surprise for Musicman, that I hope we will both enjoy. I received an email from one of the online adult toy sites I have ordered from in the past. They were having a buy one get one free sale. Of course, I had to at least browse. I did order something. Something that I have been contemplating getting for a long time now. Then I happily picked out my something free, I picked an item that I am hoping will help me achieve something that Musicman really wants from me.

The toys are due to be delivered on the Monday before Christmas. We both have Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off from work, that's very rare for us. If I get my way, we will spend most of both those days hold up in our room playing. And, just to help inspire him I'm writing him a story. I haven't written anything just for him in quite some time. I will be incorporating the new toys, plus some other things into the story.

I'm a bit nervous about writing this particular story, it may reveal a much darker side to both of us. I may never share it with anyone other than him, but that's okay. Or, it may go over really, really well and we will have taken a giant step forward in our relationship. That's what I'm hoping for anyway.

Double Stuffed

Another long day has come to and end. We lay in bed listening for the silence of the night to arrive. He nudges my foot, just a slight tap or two of pressure. My mind begins to race as I move my foot to tap back. Such an innocent, seemingly insignificant, little gesture. Yet, one that over the years, has become a signal of sorts.

He rolls towards me and begins to tweak and pluck at my nipples, hard. He has very strong hands and the pain from them pinching and twisting at my nipples causes me to gasp with pleasure. I raise my chest with each gasp in an effort to give him unfettered access.

His other hand snakes up to my span my throat. As he applies slowly increasing pressure my gasps become moans. I tilt my head up so as not to impede his travels. I so love his hand at my throat. My eyes closed now, just feeling. As one hand continues tugging mercilessly on my nipples, I whimper softly when he lifts his other hand from my throat and slaps me.

My legs start to spread of their own volition as he alternates between pressure on my throat and slaps to my face. His other hand is still torturing my nipples and the combination is leading me places only he can take me.

Time has ceased to exist when he reaches for the coat hanger. I now lay splayed open and willing to accept anything he wants to give. He wields the coat hanger quite effectively. Moving back and forth between my know dripping wet pussy and my tits. Occasionally interrupting the swats to lick or rub at my throbbing clit. The hanger is soon covered in my juices and he lifts it to my mouth. I part my lips and he slides it along my tongue for me to lick clean.

Between the swats, now randomly falling everywhere from my inner thighs to my pussy to my tits, I'm lost in a haze. A haze of lust that obscures everything but him and what he is doing to my body. I have no ability to say how long this went on, but I do know I licked that coat hanger several times.

My body, now so wonderfully tender, throbs as I roll onto my stomach. I raise my ass and spread my legs wide as he reaches for the lube and the glass dildo. It's been quite some time since we have had any anal action, I'm still somewhat of a novice at it. I have a tendency to unconsciously resist, this time that didn't happen. I was so ready for anything that it slid in with almost no resistance at all.

He gave me just a brief moment to adjust to the fullness in my ass before he entered me. I can't honestly ever remember being so full before. It felt like he had crawled into my skin with me. As he slowly started to stroke in and out of me with his cock he would tug slightly at the dildo and take it along with each stroke. I've don't remember ever being fucked in both the ass and the pussy at the same time before.

I buried my head in the pillows, biting into them to stifle the screams that were uncontrollably escaping me.  I was very quickly raising up to meet each stroke, lost in the rhythm of cock and dildo ramming into me from behind. His balls practically splashing in my juices every time they came in contact with my now very full, very wet pussy. He came with such force I think I could feel it spurting all the way to the back of my throat. 




I have to go get ready for work now, it's been a long week there already, but I will be answering the comments on my last post soon.

The Sting and the After Burn

I'm sitting here watching the snow fall. Beautiful, large, fluffy, white flakes. They land on the tree branches outside the window, covering them like frosting on a cupcake. So pretty to look at, yet such a pain in the back end to live with. It has been snowing for what seems like weeks now. We have several feet on the ground and walking to the car, negotiating the snowdrifts, is just as challenging as driving in it.

It's the perfect day for a big ole pot of stew. Mine has been simmering away for several hours now and the house smells wonderful.

The recent changes did give us an opportunity for some private time in the past week. Unfortunately, Musicman had a very difficult day at work and did not take advantage of that time. That is sometimes the price paid for having to play on someone else's schedule.

I'm currently thinking about a request from our daughter. She has asked something of me that I don't want to do. Musicman knows I don't want to do it and is backing me on this. But...there's always a but, isn't there? Her request and my answer will involve the well being and happiness of some children. Not her children, but, if she and the baby daddy ever marry they will be her step children. I'm torn, I definitely don't want to do this thing she is asking, but I'm not sure I can live with the fact that if I don't, young children will be effected negatively. Damn, sometimes I hate being a Mom, especially a responsible, caring one.

Normally, between all the things I have mentioned and the other things going on that I haven't, I would be stressed to the point of tears. In fact, that's exactly how I felt yesterday, immediately following my daughter's request.

I'm not, in actuality, I'm feeling quite strong and clear headed. I know why I am feeling that way too. It's all thanks to a clever deployment of  coat hanger. Yes, we had a house full last night. Yes, under ordinary circumstances playtime would have been off the table. Instead, he used the coat hanger to it's fullest effect.

It's quiet. It's stingy. It has the desired effect of bringing out the wanton slut in me. A great spanking, an even better fucking and I'm good to go. At least for today. It is stingy, but it has the advantage of a long lasting after burn. There are no marks today, but I can still feel it quite acutely.

It reminds me that we are in this together and makes me believe that we will get through this together. I found said coat hanger laying on the floor at the bottom of the bed as I was gathering up laundry. I didn't feel that was an appropriate place for it, so I moved it. It's currently laying on his pillow, Just my way of saying, "I hope he uses it again soon."

In Case You're Interested

It has come to my attention that I have been remiss in posting on the CWS blog. Then again I have been a bit remiss in posting here regularly too. I am hoping to remedy both of those things soon. So, along that vein, and with a bit of inspiration, I have a new post up over there and hope you will hop over to give it a look.

I didn't want to want what I wanted

I didn't want to want what I wanted. It had been so long, about a month, so it was easy to convince myself I didn't want it. Recent tension causing issues between us made it easy for me to believe I didn't want it. Just because we suddenly had some unexpected privacy didn't mean we had to take advantage of it.

Except, I did want it. It's really of no consequence how long it has been. The recent issues had been addressed and the tension was subsiding. Besides, I never say no, cause there is no good reason, short of major illness to say no. It's how we communicate best and we badly needed the chance to reconnect. If we hadn't taken advantage of the unexpected privacy I would have been disappointed.

All these things ran through my mind in an instant when I realized we were actually alone in our home and would be for some time. That's also when the butterflies started stirring in my belly, quickly advancing from a slight flutter to a full on swarm in a matter of minutes. None of which I revealed to him, not that any of it would have made a difference.

He was a man on a mission. He would have preferred to see me kneeling, bent over the end of the couch, but he took into consideration my very sore knees and instead let me lay on the bed. The magic paddle was soon being swung with some considerable force. The man just does not get the concept of a warm up.

The fleece lounge pants I was wearing provided very little cushion from the swats. I felt the sting so acutely that I really did wonder why I wanted this. I struggled through the first few thinking maybe this won't work, maybe I don't want this. Then I remembered, all I have to do is relax and breath, so I did just that.

My butt was soon quite warm, at least on one side. For some reason he was very focused on the left side. I had a brief thought to ask him to even me up some, but I didn't. I remembered that how he decides to spank is not for me to say.

All too soon it seemed he was removing my lounge pants, only to discover that I actually had underwear on. Those were quickly ripped away and the paddle was back in hand and being vigorously applied. There was no longer any doubt as to why I wanted this and most definitely no question as to whether it would work or not. I was happily floating among the mists of pain turned to pleasure and was one very contented sub.

As I was floating in the haze I realized the sensation had changed. Hmmm...that's really stingy. I didn't know what he was using, but I did like it. I couldn't identify the sound of the implement he was using either. We don't have a lot of implements and usually I can tell from the sound if not the feel, but this one seemed quieter than any I remembered. Oh...a quiet implement, yay, must remember that for later use.

I could have raised my head and looked into the mirrored headboard to see what he was using, but, at that moment, I didn't care enough to do that. I didn't care enough to raise my head and look when he changed implements once again either. At that moment in time, which seemed to be standing still, all I cared about was that I was finally where I most wanted to be. Submitting to him and what he chose to give me.

Much later, after the spanking was done and we had moved on to even more satisfying activities, I found out what the mystery implement was. A plastic coat hanger, followed by the wooden spoon. That coat hanger was rather stingy, but, I did in fact, like it very much. That makes me think maybe my I'm getting over my total fear of a cane. That makes me think maybe I should do some naughty Christmas shopping.

There have been some very recent developments that may actually allow us some much needed privacy on a more regular and frequent basis. That makes us both very happy and I might even have some fun things to write about more often.

Respect

Respect.

 

noun: respect

1. a feeling of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities, or achievements.

    

verb: respect; 

1.  

   admire (someone or something) deeply, as a result of their abilities, qualities, or achievements.

    

    

Respect is a word, a concept, that most of us in this lifestyle are very familiar with. It's a word we think about, talk about and for some of us, struggle with. We are to respect our HOH/Dom/Master. We are required to show respect in all our interactions, no matter what the situation is. We are required to respect and obey any and all rules set down by our HOH's. Heck, the word respect even appears in most traditional wedding vows, along with the word obey.

We had traditional wedding vows. I vowed to love, honor, respect and obey my husband. In addition, Musicman made it very clear to me from the beginning, how important it was to him, that I show him in action and in word, respect for him. I took my vows and his directions very seriously. I do my best to respect his wishes at all times. I'm not perfect, I don't always succeed, but I do try.

In exchange, I expect him to also respect me. I would say, for the most part, he does. However, a situation has arisen that has left me seriously doubting that fact. A situation that has been dragging on for weeks now and I no longer have any idea how to fix. I want to move past it, but I can't, no matter how hard I try.

Of course, the situation involves our adult children. They have both been struggling with some serious life issues. They both moved back in with us for a few months so that they could get their lives together and get back on their feet. That was a year ago. Neither one of them seem to be making much progress.

They do not ever listen to me or any advice I give them, so I've stopped trying. I've accepted that, along with the fact that it will be some time before they ever leave. Really, I don't blame them, they have it very good here. They live their lives the way they want and they do it on my dime. Who wouldn't want that?

The real problem is that they show me and my home absolutely no respect. They have told me that everything in their lives would be fine if it weren't for me. They have told me that everyone in the house would be quite happy if I would just leave. Yes, they are actively blaming me for their bad choices and the predicaments they have gotten themselves into. Clearly they still have quite a bit of growing up to do.

I know that children often blame the mother for everything that is wrong in their lives. I'm the mother, they blame me. Okay, that I can handle, whilst always praying that one day they will take responsibility for their lives and their decisions. I don't hold my breath waiting for that day to come, but I still pray for it everyday.

The crux of the issue for me, the thing I can't move past is the fact that they believe their father, my husband, my beloved Musicman, feels the same as they do. I know this because they have told me this. That is what really hurts. That is what I can't move past.

I did talk to Musicman about this. He assured me it wasn't true. He assured me he would speak to them about this. After of week of no action, I reminded him of what he had promised. He did speak to our son, but he did not hit the main point, in my opinion.

I know that he can not force these kids to see reality. I know he can not force them to listen to me or to show me respect. Well, technically, he could, but he he's never going to do that. I accept that, that wasn't the main point for me. The main point for me, is that he make it clear to them, in no uncertain terms, that they are wrong.

It is very important to me, that my children truly know and understand, that Musicman does respect me and what I contribute to this family. Maybe it should be enough for me that he does respect me, but it's just not. Knowing that my children believe that their father does not respect me is a pain that I can't get past. He could fix this for me, but he hasn't. Before any of you suggest that I can fix it, I've tried, they don't listen to me or believe anything I say.

The fact that Musicman does not see how important this issue is to me has caused me to lose some respect for him. That bothers me quite a bit and I don't know what to do about it. I just know I can't be submissive or obedient to a man I can't respect and I can't respect a man who will not stand up for me.

The ABC's of Thanksgiving

On this day of Thanksgiving, I wanted to take stock. But where to start? Well, lets start with the basics. Lets start with the ABC's. The ABC's of Thanksgiving. I give you my list of things I'm grateful for, in alphabetical order.

A - Absolution...something I constantly seek.

B - Blogland...the only place in the world where I actually feel "normal".

C - Cunt...is there anything else to say about this?

D - Dominate...ummm? Yes, please!

E - Evenings...the time of day that Musicman and I come together.

F - Fuck...wasn't that rather obvious?

G - Glorious...when ordinary just doesn't suffice.

H - Hot...menopause is such a bitch.

I - Inches...long, hot, smooth as steel and covered in velvet, preferably buried somewhere deep inside me.

J - Juice...running copiously down my leg.

K - Kiss...mmm, yes.

L - Love...illusive, soul-searing, never ending, memory making.

M - Musicman...the LOVE of my life.

N - Now...when I want everything.

O - Orgasm...could it really be anything other?

P - Pussy...quite capable of multiple orgasms, if correctly enticed.

Q - Quit...Me? Never!

R - Run...something I fantasize about, but would never do.

S - Sex...such a huge topic to cover.

T - Tits...something I have very little of, but that means gravity doesn't get me.

U - Urinate...something he thinks about and I don't want to talk about.

V- Virgin...a concept I don't understand.

W - Wet...yep, I can still do that.

X - St. Andrew's cross...never tried one, but would like to. ***

Y - Why not?

Z - Zealot...well, maybe?

I do hope you have enjoyed my ABC's of Thanksgiving. May you all have a bright and beautiful day with many things to give thanks for.

***updated to add X. Thanks for catching my mistake Terpsichore.

Finally...He Responds

Patience, patience, patience. I have none. I do believe that when God was passing out patience, I held the door for everyone else and by the time I got there he had none left.

Friday night Musicman finally responded to my latest suggestion. It only took a week and a half. Seems like such a simple thing to ask and the waiting was a bit of a challenge for me, but I did it. In his defense, I did not actually explain to him that this was important to me, or why it was.

Not only was I looking for a way to stay connected, both with him and with my sub side, in a house full of people, where spanking(the one sure thing that keeps me connected)is almost nonexistent. I have another reason for proposing this activity.

The pit bull is starting to emerge again. She has good reason. We are currently undergoing testing and Dr. visits for clearances needed for a surgical procedure that Musicman needs to have done.

Musicman has a very complicated medical history. We manage it very well, so most people don't even realize the daily challenges he faces. I believe the fact that I am a natural born caregiver who chose to make that my profession, is one of the reasons the universe put us together. I do an excellent job of coordinating everything and making sure he gets the best possible care available. If he doesn't, they have to answer to the pit bull. Btw, pit bull is the name that Musicman uses to describe me and my actions, when referring to his complicated medical issues.

I'm grateful for the pit bull, she always comes roaring out when we need her. The only problem with that, is that she is so far away from my sub side. When the pit bull comes out, the sub side hides, most likely from fear of getting her head chewed off. Cause that's what pit bulls do, they chomp down and they don't let go.

Knowing that there is a need for her, I wanted to find a way to keep my sub side from going into hiding. It always takes so long for her to come back and I miss her when she is gone. I want to try and prevent the backsliding that occurs when she is around, hence my suggestion.

So, what was my suggestion? Well, we've never been the kind of couple that observes many formal D/s practices. There is nothing we do that, if seen by others, would indicate we are a D/s couple. There is no kneeling, no asking for permission for everyday things, no rules to be followed. Yes, there are some things I seek his permission for and some rules that I follow, but those are things that were setup years ago. They don't feel like D/s to me, they just feel like showing him the respect he deserves, not as a Dom, but as my husband and a human being.

We spend most evenings together, hanging out in our bedroom, relaxing, watching TV and talking about our days. It is a time I thoroughly enjoy. I suggested that maybe on a few of those evenings instead of sitting next to him on the couch, I could sit at his feet. I also asked that during those evenings, if he should choose to indulge me, that he could be a bit more in charge of things. I gave him several ideas of what I meant by that, but, of course, how he chooses to implement it is up to him.

He chose to have me sit at his feet Friday night for the first time. He didn't ask anything of me, but I did give him a nice foot rub. I received a lovely back rub and a very satisfying romp on the couch soon ensued. Afterwards, he did say he had an idea for next time, but he hasn't shared what that is yet. Doesn't really matter to me, I'm ready for more, more, more, whenever he is. Hopefully, it's soon.

Surfing Along

Lately, life feels a lot like surfing on a river. What's that you say? You've never heard of surfing on a river? Let me describe it for you. You are balanced on a smallish, narrow board, negotiating rapids, with no shore in sight. You look for a quiet little inlet that might provide some small chance for rest. Instead, all you see are the dangerous eddies that threaten to suck you under.

I've been doing a somewhat decent job of avoiding those dangerous eddies. I haven't spotted any quiet inlets in which to rest, but I'm still upright amid the rushing waters. That's a good thing.

Life continues to be quite hectic. No privacy in sight. I seem to have turned a corner in dealing with the chaos. My new mantra has become, "let it go, just let it go."  I tell myself this, what seems to be millions of time each day. It doesn't change anything, but it does help me move on, not stay so focused on the negatives.

In the course of the swirling thoughts, I actually did find what I think might be a bit of a solution to help us stay connected amidst the chaos. I thought about it quite a bit before emailing Musicman with my idea. He did read it, though that's about all he has done.

There have been no comments or shared thoughts on my idea. Totally expected from him, but the waiting is about to drive me a bit more insane than I already am. Oh well, "let it go, just let it go." Ah, there I feel better already. Well, not really, but one can hope.

In the mean time, I will continue to negotiate the rapids and hope and pray that I stay balanced and upright. Maybe I'll even find a quiet inlet soon and take the chance to rest a bit before the next set of rapids arrives.

Just A Bit Of Fun

I thought I would share a few pics I found that I thought were interesting. The first pic below is one that showed up on Facebook. It was posted by a friend and at first glance seems innocuous enough. But, take a closer look. What do you see?

 

 

 

 The pic below is also from Facebook. It is from a page I follow called the Naughty Yogini. Several years ago I took yoga on a regular basis. I don't think I ever achieved that kind of flexibility. Hmmm...maybe I should consider starting yoga again.

 

 

 

Have a wonderful day all.

 

 

                                                                              

Love Our Lurker's

Hi everyone, it's Love Our Lurkers day. This is the 8th one, but the second one for me as a blogger.

I started out as a lurker. In fact, more of us than just myself started out that way.  Most of us have a similar story. We were looking for something. Something missing in ourselves, or something we knew was there but were too afraid to talk about or share with anyone. So we turned to the internet for information and found this wonderful community.

I know it can be a bit intimidating looking at that little white comment box. I often felt that way, like anything I said might sound really stupid, or just plain ignorant. The truth of the matter is, we are a pretty nonjudgmental, open minded, welcoming group of people.

We live an alternative lifestyle and no two couples do it exactly alike. We recognize and encourage that. That is why you will often see the acronym TTWD used. It stands for This Thing We Do, and yes, we all do it a bit differently. That's okay. We recognize we are individuals with individual lives. Everyone's situation is different.

Those differences, along with the basic similarities we share, mainly the desire to engage in TTWD, is what makes it all work. Here, in blogland you can talk about anything and receive support, advice, friendship and a good old kick in the pants if needed.

That support, advice and friendship comes from the comments we leave or are left for us. I have learned so much from the other bloggers and from the comments left not only for me, but on the blogs I read. I've made some great friends and they and this community, have been the support I needed to get through some extremely difficult times.

That is why we celebrate our lurker's, to encourage you to step out of the shadows and say Hi. It's easy and you never know when something you have to say may be of help, or lead to a friendship with someone. We know you are there, our stats tell us that. So, take a moment, jump on in and say Hi. We love hearing from you.

Ain't No Knitting Going On Here

I'm trying to learn to knit. It's been quite frustrating, but I think I finally got it. Earlier in the week as I was struggling to make some progress with it, I heard about a survey done by the University of Alabama. The survey said people burn more calories knitting than they do having sex. I don't care, I'll still take sex over knitting any day.

I'm floating on cloud nine today, cause there ain't been any knitting going on here this weekend. Yep, our daughter and her little family went away for the weekend. Hmmm...now...how to get the boy child out of the house for awhile. Musicman to the rescue, he gave the boy money to go out.

Yay, finally, some privacy. We did our best to make the most of it.

The magic paddle was used. It's been awhile, about a month, I think. Wow, did that sting and then thud and then sting again. I even found myself at one point trying to scramble away from his reach. No, I was not successful at that, his hand on my back held me firmly in place.

Mmmmmm....I was already floating into never land when I heard him remark how red I was. Then a switch of implements, the leather strap. Oh yeah, love that leather strap. Love it on my butt, love it on my back, love it on my legs. He covered all those places.

He paused, grabbed my hair and leaned down to my ear, to tell me, very specifically, everything he was going to do to me next. Each thing was accompanied by a just right, tug of my hair. He definitely had my attention, unfortunately, my ability to respond with anything more than one word was lost.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, was all I could say. That wasn't exactly the response he was looking for, so he applied the leather strap some more. Oh, I was most definitely fine with that response. By the time he was done, I was so far beyond any kind of control I would have done or said (had I been able to speak) anything he told me to. I did manage, with some coaxing from him, to say what he wanted to hear.

He was as good as his word and proceeded to do all the things he had previously said he was gonna do. It was wonderful. Every time I thought I couldn't orgasm even one more time, he proved me wrong. I floated from one orgasm to another, sometimes mewling like a kitten, sometimes begging (for what I'm not sure), sometimes screaming, sometimes just gasping for breathe.

His hands grasping like vice grips on my hips, my back arching so far off the bed that I was practically standing on my head. Fists buried in the sheets, gripping tight while I writhed and wriggled in an effort to get closer, or get away. I'm not totally sure which. Doesn't matter either, cause I didn't get away. I got everything I've wanted and needed and then some.

It took me awhile to recover. I was in that glorious, floaty place, unable to feel my body. Just a limp ball of mush with nothing more to worry about than breathing.  I did eventually recover and turned my attentions to him and his beautiful cock, standing at attention waiting for me. I thanked him most profusely.

I slept the sleep of the dead and woke to a lovely hand spanking and some more orgasms. I don't know who the University of Alabama studied for their survey, but I highly doubt their findings. I don't think I could ever burn that many calories knitting, and don't even want to try.



 

At a Loss

Musicman and  I have always had a unique connection. Primarily, a sexual connection.

Sex has always been a major, front and center, part of my life. It's not always been a positive thing in my life, but it's always been present. I worked hard to turn sex from a dark, abusive event into a beautiful, uplifting presence in my life.

I kissed a lot of frogs before I found my prince. But, I persevered and I did find him. We've spent almost 3 decades together. Throughout those decades, we've always communicated best, through sex.

It's just who we are, what we do. There has never been a time when we lived like distant roommates. Coming together, a few moments of passion, that's how we communicate, that's how understand each other. That's what makes life worth living for us.

Now? Well...now it's not happening so much. Just once a week. Almost no D/s involved. That makes me sad. Definitely no spanking occurring. That makes me even sadder.

It's not working so well for me. I don't think it works very well for Musicman either. I want to fix this issue between us. I'm not sure how. We seem so far apart. I try, but I can't seem to bridge the gap.

All I really know, is that I will continue to try. I want him back. I want to connect in that special way that only we can. But, I'm at a loss as to how I can make that happen.

Surviving and Thriving

 

I saw this on facebook and it really spoke to me.

 

Despite all the seemingly negative things that have occurred to me in my life, I have never thought of myself as a victim. Even as a young child, enduring horrific abuse almost daily, I never thought of myself as a victim. I always focused my thoughts on surviving and what I needed to do to survive.

 

This year has been extremely challenging for us with all the major life changes we have experienced. It would be so easy for me to lay down, succumb to depression and just wallow in the pain of it all. I admit, there are some days that I allow myself that luxury, but not too often. The survivor in me just won't accept that kind of behavior for very long.

 

No, the survivor in me gets her ass out of bed and turns her thoughts to what she needs to do to survive. Eventually, once surviving seems a sure thing, thoughts turn from surviving to thriving. Ya see, I am a survivor, but I don't want to just survive. I want to thrive.

 

That's where my thoughts are now. How do I thrive again? Now that I have picked up the pieces, how do I move forward?

 

I've realized that being back at square one may not be such a bad thing. It may actually help us in the end. It may actually go a long way toward making us and our relationship that much stronger. At least that is how I choose to look at it. I choose to look for the lesson I am supposed to be learning. I choose to look for what areas of my life need improvement or change.

 

I've realized that I have not been taking my own advice. Bad me. Instead of turning toward Musicman, I was most definitely shutting him out. I hadn't meant to do that. I really just shut down because I didn't want to deal with the pain of everything going on. That was an acceptable way to deal with things when I was young and had no one to turn to for the love and support I needed.

 

Now, that is not only no longer acceptable, it is totally unnecessary. It is not necessary because he is here, he is willing to support me and he will always love me. I had felt for awhile that things weren't happening between us because he was no longer interested. How wrong I was.

 

Things weren't happening because I was so shut down he was no longer able to reach me. He was no longer able to read me the way he had been able to do. Things weren't happening because he had no clue what to do for me. He tried, but everything he did try, fell on deaf ears.

 

Is everything back to normal for us? No, not yet, that is going to take some more time. But, I am making a very conscious effort to be open to him and be aware of the fact that he is trying. I am making a conscious effort to respond to his overtures in an open and honest manner.

 

It's a start.

 

 

 

Two Years and One Full Circle

Two years ago, after lurking in this community for about a year, I took the plunge and started this blog. It has been the only time in my life I have successfully kept any kind of journal. I've started many of them over the years, but very quickly lost interest.

I think the main reason I have not lost interest this time, or been able to stop writing, though I tried a few times, is you. My readers. I don't write for you, but the energy I receive from you has been invaluable to me.

I've made friends. I've felt, for once in my life, like I actually fit it in somewhere. I've learned so much about myself and in some smaller way about Musicman. I've shared secrets that I haven't ever felt comfortable sharing in my real life. I've received immeasurable support when facing unimaginable challenges. You just don't get that from a simple journal.

You have celebrated with me when things are going well. You have cried with me when things aren't going so well. You have sent me healing energy and strength to face what ever lay ahead of me. Many of you have prayed for me. Thank you.

As I look back over these two years I feel like I have come full circle. I started out struggling to figure out exactly what it is I wanted and needed. Then I struggled with overcoming my embarrassment of what I needed and wanted and how to communicate those things to Musicman.

Having this blog helped with that too, since he always reads everything I write. He rarely ever comments on any of it, but when appropriate, he does take action. Him being able to have this small peek into my brain definitely helped us get to a really great place.

Having this place to come to and get it all out has saved my sanity, or at least what's left of it as everything we achieved fell apart. That is where we seem to be now, back at square one. Some of that is through no fault of our own and some of it is.

I have no idea where we go from here. I know I want it all back, but going back is impossible. We could work on rebuilding what we had. Someday, we just might do that, but for now it doesn't seem to be a priority, for either of us.

That's not necessarily a good thing, because when I am able to be my true submissive self is when I am most happy. I want to be happy again. I want to be his "little faerie" again. I just don't seem to be able to find the strength or a good place to start. Maybe I will find that strength along with the answers I need here, in this blog.

Someday

A look in the mirror.

What do I see?

 

A sea of silver,

 whitecaps crashing upon the shore.

 

Knowledge?

Experience?

 

Neither count.

Neither can be prepared for.

 

Innocence lost.

Innocence found.

 

Innocence be damned.

I will survive.

 

I will keep my head up,

I will walk tall,

I will survive.

 

Time may steal from me,

 innocence.

 

I have craved,

I have yearned,

I have yet to experience.

 

Is it to much to wish?

 

Someday?

 

Someday,

I may experience,

 innocence.

 

Oh,

what a day that will be.

 

 

Apologies, Thank You's and Some Clarity

I rarely ever do this, write a post instead of responding to my comments. It's just been such a long week and so much is going on. Sorry, but I hope you will bear with me this one time.

First, I'd like to thank all of you for the birthday wishes. It was one of the worst birthdays in recent memory, but ya'll did make me feel so much better. Thank you.

I've read and re-read all the comments and most all of you have said I need to stop picking up the pieces. I need to let my kids figure out things for themselves. I couldn't agree more. If it was just a matter of stepping back and watching my adult children struggle to figure things out on their own, I would. It wouldn't be easy, but few things in life worth having are easy.

There is one very important reason why I feel I can't step back and let them learn for themselves. My 6 week old granddaughter. While I can't go into specifics, things with my daughter are not going well and my granddaughter is the one suffering because of it. That is something I can not and will not tolerate.

My daughter crossed a line, a line I had specifically told her would have serious consequences if she crossed it. Apparently she either didn't take me seriously, or didn't care, either way, she crossed it. Though it broke my heart to do, I laid down the law and enforced the consequences. Or at least, I tried to.

Musicman, much to my dismay, negated the consequences. That caused a huge rift between us. A rift big enough that I was fully prepared to leave him. I didn't want to do that. I love him more than life itself, but there are certain things I will NEVER compromise on. And, may I just say, he has always known what those things are.

I really am not a drama queen. I do not make idle threats. I took my marital vows seriously and leaving has never been an option for me. Having stated all that, I was extremely serious about leaving. That is how serious I feel this situation is. If he is not going to back me in what needs to be done, then I'm gone.

One of the things I have known, for quite a long time, is that while Musicman and I always seem to have the same end goal, we never take the same path to get there. Most of the time, that's a good thing. He takes his path, sees and considers the things I miss and vice versa. Usually, we are able to meet in the middle, consider both paths and make the best decision for our kids.

That is what we have been working on this week. It has been beyond difficult. I know I have been overly emotional and he has done what he typically does when stressed. He closes down and shuts me out. Communication breaks down and we get nowhere fast.

We both have worked very hard to get those reactions under control and effectively communicate with each other. I've had to push him, but he has been doing his best to communicate his views to me. I've had to suppress and control some very volatile emotions, but it has been worth it to get to the end goal.

Do we have a good answer as to what to do? Do we know exactly what needs to be done to remedy the situation with our daughter and granddaughter? Not really, but we are communicating. We have had many, many conversations about this. We do each understand the others point of view and approach to the situation. We are working together, we have a tentative game plan.

Wish us luck, we are going to need it. Our daughter is about to get handed a major dose of tough love. She will have choices to make and if she makes the wrong choice, we could lose all contact with her and our beautiful little granddaughter. That will break our hearts more than we can fathom, but we see no other acceptable choice.

Bittersweet

My mind is so crowded with thoughts. A huge tangle of things, so intertwined, I can not find the beginning, nor conceive the end. I hate when that happens.

This is my birthday weekend. I should be celebrating, or at least receiving a birthday spanking. I did neither. There are so many reasons why that is. 

Recent events have made celebrating my birthday so bittersweet. I will officially turn 49 tomorrow. It is the first time in 40 years I have celebrated without my brother. His birthday was yesterday. Had he not lost his valiant battle against cancer just 2 1/2 months ago, he would have turned 40.

We rarely had the opportunity to celebrate together, in fact, we did only once in our adult lives. His choice to defend our country, in service to the Navy, always kept us apart, but it never let us forget that rare bond. Now, instead of sending birthday wishes, along with my love, across the miles, I send them to heaven. Still such a bizarre concept for me.

Yesterday was a day of many tears and so many regrets. A day when I realized I should have done so many things differently. Unfortunately, there is no going back, no reset, no redo. I try so hard to live my life without regrets. I have no idea how to deal with the ones I associate with the loss of my brother. We all so naively thought we would have the time to do the things we talked about.  How wrong we were.

That lesson is what makes everything else going on in my life so much harder to accept.

In order to survive, I've had to set aside, once again, my own wants and needs, in order to accommodate others wants and needs. I just can not live as a submissive, despite the fact that it feels so very natural for me.

It seems they all need me, to organize, direct, provide and protect. I'm more than capable of doing that, but I find it's a lonely walk for me. It's a well worn path, yet, one I no longer wish to take. Though, I see no other viable choices at the moment.

Since standing still has never been an option for me, I  continue on the journey. I have taken the lead. I instruct, comfort, and give, until it feels as if I have nothing left to offer. When that occurs, I suck it up and offer more. I don't know any other way.

The worst part is that none of them actually listen to me. They ask for advice, then they go and do what they want. When it fails, as it inevitably does, because they have no respect for me or my opinion, they turn to me to pick up the pieces.

Musicman has taken refuge in hiding. He's faded into the background, not heard from until I demand he stand up and do something. Even then, his participation in the day to day challenges, is sketchy.  I no longer feel that I can rely on him to provide the support I need to deal with everything going on.

He did make a half hearted attempt. We actually found ourselves alone in the house. I suppose I should feel grateful that he noticed. I suppose I should be grateful he pulled himself away from his football game for 20 minutes.

I know I'm supposed to enthusiastically embrace the spanking he deigned to give. It was nice, but I needed so much more. In my mind, it was not the celebratory birthday spanking I craved. In my mind, it was much too short, just a stress relief spanking. It would have worked too, had he not promptly jumped up afterwards, complaining of some insignificant ache and declaring, " I should not have done that."

Well...thank you very much. Next time...don't bother. I can do this on my own. And, I can do it better.

Yes, he should be worried, so should my kids, cause I'm about done. You see, I've learned a hard lesson. I've learned that it doesn't pay to put off the things I want from this life in order to aide people who don't have any respect or appreciation for what I do for them. I'm done. I'm just done.

You would think by now that they would know better than to piss off a faerie. Apparently they don't. Time for me to step up and show them the reality and the consequences of their actions. And there ain't  gonna be a damn thing submissive about it.

The Storm at the End of a Perfect Day.

Fair warning: this post is so far from topic. I just need some place to vent. If you're not interested, that's totally fine, feel free to browse the blogroll. It needs updated, but still has many relevant writers.

I think I'm in a bit of shock. I know, I'm way too old and way too wise, to have to deal with this kind of issue. And yet, I see the irony of it all. I wonder, did I invite this?

Growing up as a victim of abuse, of all kinds, I was always determined that would not happen to my kids. I protected them, I educated them, on how to protect themselves.

I did not do any of this alone. Musicman was always there. He stood up as a great example to our daughter, of what she should want in a man. I know he succeeded, because she's told me all she wants, is a man like her father. I don't think she has achieved that yet, but that's a different story.

He stood up as a great example to our son and provided a perfect model for a what man should be. He taught him the basics, that seem to be so often overlooked these days. He taught him, by example, you take care of your lady. You provide for and protect your lady. He taught him to be the man and always be the one in control of any given situation.

Our son has taken those lessons to heart. He's grown into an honorable man. He's been with his girlfriend for a couple years. She's a smart young lady and has in many ways, been a good influence on our son. I like her a lot, she reminds me some of a younger me.

She and I usually get along quite well and talk about everything, including birth control, because I know she is having sex with our son. I'm not really the warm, fuzzy kinda mom. I'm much more the mom that's gonna tell you the cold hard facts about life and what to do to survive.

My son has understood that about me and confided in me, about his relationship with his GF. It's been volatile. Not on his part, but on her's. She has rage issues. This is something I have talked extensively about, with both of them. Clearly, she has been hurt. Both of us love her and want to help her. That's what makes what happens next so hard to accept.

Our day started off so nice. We took a day trip, something we love to do, but haven't really had much time for. It was a wonderful day of strolling around, indulging ourselves and just in general relaxing and enjoying each other. We even sang along together in the car. I know, such a silly thing, yet something I love so much.

Many hours, many miles and many pics later we arrived home. Of course, it was a full house. Daughter, grandbaby and baby daddy, all present and accounted for. Son and girlfriend? Check, they're home too.

Musicman had errands to run. He leaves, despite the fact that ominous sounds are coming from our son's room.  They're fighting, nothing new there. We both know that our son would never get physical with his girlfriend, nothing bad is gonna happen. Yeah, we so underestimated that.

I don't think either one of us could have conceived that our son would be a victim. While Musicman was gone, the fight escalated. That beautiful, hurt, little girl, in a rage, pulled a knife. Our son was stabbed.

That's when shit becomes very, very real. Blood everywhere. Trying to separate and de-escalate the situation. Have I mentioned recently, that I'm an older lady, don't really want to have to jump in between two young things determined to kill each other. Yet, have no choice, other than to stop it, cause I ain't burying either one of them.

Yeah, at that moment in time, life totally sucks. Instinct kicks in. Orders get issued. I did have to call in reinforcements. I couldn't control my son by myself. He's taller than me, he's thin, lanky, all muscle. Way too much for me to handle, while trying to contain her at the same time.

Cops came to my home, the ambulance came to my home. The local freaking news came to my home. Our son went to the ER, while his girlfriend went to jail. I spent the evening cleaning the blood out of my home.

I always thought about the need to protect my daughter from domestic violence. I never thought my son would be a victim. Damn, that pisses me off.

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.