Well, 2012 certainly happened. Right? I'm pretty sure it did. It was both a great year and a frustrating/sad year for me. Ups and downs are all part of the cycle, I know.
My involvement in Fetlife has decreased to almost nothing. My involvement in my local community has also been flagging. It's too easy for me to get caught up in the issues of the moment, for one thing. I also don't really have need for a lot of the manufactured drama that takes place. But I feel incredibly blessed by my involvement in both, because I've gained some priceless people from the experience.
One of the first (chronologically) is a woman I attended high school (and likely middle school) with, and was able to reconnect with because of this thing we do. I love and adore her.
Another is a woman who has managed, in an instant (objectively speaking), to become my best friend in the world. It should also be noted that I have very naughty thoughts about her, and that she occasionally does deliciously evil things to me. I have seen her naked and been naked in her presence. She is gorgeous and delicious and witty and delightfully neurotic. I will write more about her later, and not just because she's one of the reasons I've begun blogging again.
There is also Talia, whom I don't see as often as I'd like, but I absolutely treasure her friendship. She recently flogged me (in a public space!) again, for the first time since February of last year! My love has been remiss in reaching out.
There are others I'm glad to know, but these are the standouts.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Q&A from LunaKM
LunaKM writes: I have been following your Dominant's blog for quite some time and unfortunately never clicked over to yours so I apologize up front if this question has been answered before.
He's a fantastic read, isn't he? I love having the additional insight of his blog. No need for apologies- this hasn't been addressed previously.
How does your submission suffer/flourish while he is recovering from surgeries?
It's easy to focus on how it suffers, because I'm really self-conscious about my flaws (as most are, I assume). However, I feel pretty proud of the way I handled most of the recovery time for his hip replacement. It makes me more keyed in on him, and I take his health very seriously. I tried to go for anticipatory service during that time.
I will say that when he is so reliant on me, I do get worn out faster, and his energy is going into healing (as it should!) rather than figuring out my headspace all the time. But I do think overall, my submission flourishes, particularly on an internal level. We don't do a lot of protocol-type things, which may make it easier when he's unwell and not so focused on our dynamic, because he doesn't have to worry about being "on" all the time. (Though I suppose if we had those things, they would come easily to me, so that may be a moot point. As always, your mileage may vary.)
How do things work when you are both ill? Does the housework and relationship just fall away to basic care?
I suppose it really depends on how ill we both are. Generally speaking, I'll be granted rest when I'm sick regardless of how he is, because getting better is a priority. If it's linked to depression or anxiety, and it's pretty severe, then things will all fall away until I can climb out of it. We're pretty good about doing self-care and leaving each other alone when that happens. It depends on the individual scenario, really.
PS: You'd probably get more questions if you allowed anonymous commenting. You don't currently.
This is an excellent point! I'm off to fix that right now.
I hope I've answered thoroughly enough! Thanks again for asking!
He's a fantastic read, isn't he? I love having the additional insight of his blog. No need for apologies- this hasn't been addressed previously.
How does your submission suffer/flourish while he is recovering from surgeries?
It's easy to focus on how it suffers, because I'm really self-conscious about my flaws (as most are, I assume). However, I feel pretty proud of the way I handled most of the recovery time for his hip replacement. It makes me more keyed in on him, and I take his health very seriously. I tried to go for anticipatory service during that time.
I will say that when he is so reliant on me, I do get worn out faster, and his energy is going into healing (as it should!) rather than figuring out my headspace all the time. But I do think overall, my submission flourishes, particularly on an internal level. We don't do a lot of protocol-type things, which may make it easier when he's unwell and not so focused on our dynamic, because he doesn't have to worry about being "on" all the time. (Though I suppose if we had those things, they would come easily to me, so that may be a moot point. As always, your mileage may vary.)
How do things work when you are both ill? Does the housework and relationship just fall away to basic care?
I suppose it really depends on how ill we both are. Generally speaking, I'll be granted rest when I'm sick regardless of how he is, because getting better is a priority. If it's linked to depression or anxiety, and it's pretty severe, then things will all fall away until I can climb out of it. We're pretty good about doing self-care and leaving each other alone when that happens. It depends on the individual scenario, really.
PS: You'd probably get more questions if you allowed anonymous commenting. You don't currently.
This is an excellent point! I'm off to fix that right now.
I hope I've answered thoroughly enough! Thanks again for asking!
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
No Means Maybe
Note: Tomorrow's post will be a response to LunaKM's question for March! Thanks for asking, Luna!
As my Sir has suggested, we've been having a rough time with sleep lately. The other night, though, we were extremely tired and went to bed at the same time. As I undressed for bed, he touched me here and there, and when I climbed into bed, he asked if I was interested in a bit of fun before sleep.
I emphatically responded that all I wanted was sleep, and snuggled up against him.
Sir put my hand on his cock and asked if I'd touch it for a few minutes, and I obliged. He stroked his hands along my body, still thoughtful. You see, he knows that I am generally less inhibited when I'm sleepy, and frequently more open to suggestion. He pressed his lips against the top of my head and spoke low.
He said, "I love that, even as tired as you are, I could still make you do it." There was a moment's pause as he waited to see if I would respond. When I didn't, he continued. "Can't I?"
"Yes." I don't think I hesitated, or thought about the weight of my answer. It was the right response; the one he'd accept, and it was true.
He made a contented "hmm"ing noise and was quiet for a little bit while I touched him. I held him in my hand without moving, as my brain pondered shutting off. It wasn't until he spoke again, to point it out, that I realized he'd gotten hard. I mean, I felt it happening and all, but my attention was so fuzzy that I wasn't aware. I took my hand away self-consciously.
"Do you like that I can make you?" There was the slightest hint of amusement in his voice.
I took a breath and tried to make my tone as conversational as possible- deflection-mode: activated! "Yeah, I kinda do. I mean, not at the time... but it's really hot to think about later." I quickly realized that my deflectors were, perhaps, malfunctioning and tried to backpedal some. I don't remember what he said, but I do know he wasn't having any of it. He cut me off in short order.
"Mmhmm, you're such a slut. You like being forced." Without waiting for me to finish my protest about how that wasn't what I meant, he turned it into a question. "Don't you?" It's misleading to call that a question, because it wasn't, really. It was a power play, which automatically puts me on the losing end. By then I was alert enough to recognize that if I answered "wrong" I would only escalate things. I tried frantically to think of a way to defuse the situation. He repeated the question impatiently, so I tried to draw out my answer.
"Yes, but-"
"You'll masturbate about this later. Won't you?" That time, he let it hang in the darkness between us.
"Yes," I whispered.
"Get your mouth on my cock." Sir wore the power openly on his voice, and it sent shivers dancing across my skin. When I didn't move quickly enough for his liking, he wound his fingers in my hair and moved me himself, despite my protests that I was doing what he wanted.
His cock stretched my jaw painfully, but I made the conscious decision in that moment to submit to his desires. I still felt conflicted, but I recognized that I needed to honor his mastery over me. I was both willing and unwilling, and that made me wet.
Once my internal conflict was settled, I was compliant. I stopped struggling against his grip on my hair, against the things he was telling me, and against him overall. I made sure I was enthusiastic, though I still stumbled over myself when he prodded me to admit to that loathed name; "cumbucket," which almost always gives me pause- internally, if nothing else.
He alternated between letting me suck his cock and actively fucking my face and, occasionally, making me jerk his cock. I was so caught up in it that the rest of this was a blur to me. I didn't have much conscious thought left.
When he told me what to say, I said it.
When he told me to come, I came.
After he came, he pulled me to him lovingly and held me for a while. Then he went to get cleaned up and I fell asleep.
A NOTE ABOUT CONSENT:
The title of this entry is not meant to excuse or make light of rape. It is only intended to reflect what happened that night and how my relationship works. If, at any time, I had used my safeword (I have a nonverbal signal I use for when I can't speak, as well as the traffic light system for when I can), Sir would have stopped immediately. I was reluctant, but I never withdrew my consent- not even in my own mind. I am glad he was able to do it, actually, because it isn't something that happens frequently, nor could it. Sir protects me and cares for my emotional and physical well-being. I am his wife, first and foremost, and he loves me. We do not condone rape.
As my Sir has suggested, we've been having a rough time with sleep lately. The other night, though, we were extremely tired and went to bed at the same time. As I undressed for bed, he touched me here and there, and when I climbed into bed, he asked if I was interested in a bit of fun before sleep.
I emphatically responded that all I wanted was sleep, and snuggled up against him.
Sir put my hand on his cock and asked if I'd touch it for a few minutes, and I obliged. He stroked his hands along my body, still thoughtful. You see, he knows that I am generally less inhibited when I'm sleepy, and frequently more open to suggestion. He pressed his lips against the top of my head and spoke low.
He said, "I love that, even as tired as you are, I could still make you do it." There was a moment's pause as he waited to see if I would respond. When I didn't, he continued. "Can't I?"
"Yes." I don't think I hesitated, or thought about the weight of my answer. It was the right response; the one he'd accept, and it was true.
He made a contented "hmm"ing noise and was quiet for a little bit while I touched him. I held him in my hand without moving, as my brain pondered shutting off. It wasn't until he spoke again, to point it out, that I realized he'd gotten hard. I mean, I felt it happening and all, but my attention was so fuzzy that I wasn't aware. I took my hand away self-consciously.
"Do you like that I can make you?" There was the slightest hint of amusement in his voice.
I took a breath and tried to make my tone as conversational as possible- deflection-mode: activated! "Yeah, I kinda do. I mean, not at the time... but it's really hot to think about later." I quickly realized that my deflectors were, perhaps, malfunctioning and tried to backpedal some. I don't remember what he said, but I do know he wasn't having any of it. He cut me off in short order.
"Mmhmm, you're such a slut. You like being forced." Without waiting for me to finish my protest about how that wasn't what I meant, he turned it into a question. "Don't you?" It's misleading to call that a question, because it wasn't, really. It was a power play, which automatically puts me on the losing end. By then I was alert enough to recognize that if I answered "wrong" I would only escalate things. I tried frantically to think of a way to defuse the situation. He repeated the question impatiently, so I tried to draw out my answer.
"Yes, but-"
"You'll masturbate about this later. Won't you?" That time, he let it hang in the darkness between us.
"Yes," I whispered.
"Get your mouth on my cock." Sir wore the power openly on his voice, and it sent shivers dancing across my skin. When I didn't move quickly enough for his liking, he wound his fingers in my hair and moved me himself, despite my protests that I was doing what he wanted.
His cock stretched my jaw painfully, but I made the conscious decision in that moment to submit to his desires. I still felt conflicted, but I recognized that I needed to honor his mastery over me. I was both willing and unwilling, and that made me wet.
Once my internal conflict was settled, I was compliant. I stopped struggling against his grip on my hair, against the things he was telling me, and against him overall. I made sure I was enthusiastic, though I still stumbled over myself when he prodded me to admit to that loathed name; "cumbucket," which almost always gives me pause- internally, if nothing else.
He alternated between letting me suck his cock and actively fucking my face and, occasionally, making me jerk his cock. I was so caught up in it that the rest of this was a blur to me. I didn't have much conscious thought left.
When he told me what to say, I said it.
When he told me to come, I came.
After he came, he pulled me to him lovingly and held me for a while. Then he went to get cleaned up and I fell asleep.
A NOTE ABOUT CONSENT:
The title of this entry is not meant to excuse or make light of rape. It is only intended to reflect what happened that night and how my relationship works. If, at any time, I had used my safeword (I have a nonverbal signal I use for when I can't speak, as well as the traffic light system for when I can), Sir would have stopped immediately. I was reluctant, but I never withdrew my consent- not even in my own mind. I am glad he was able to do it, actually, because it isn't something that happens frequently, nor could it. Sir protects me and cares for my emotional and physical well-being. I am his wife, first and foremost, and he loves me. We do not condone rape.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
The Line
So, tonight my Sir and I were watching something together, and I was smarting off about stealing his pillow, but I knew where to stop before I crossed the line and evoked physical correction from him. He responded by musing: "Hmm. You're getting good at knowing where that line is. I may have to move it forward." He seemed half-serious. I think he was mostly amused by my antics.
But if he meant it, I think I would object. Maybe just inch it forward, perhaps, and I'd be okay with it... just to keep me on my toes, you know? But too far would mess up our fun. Or my fun. I don't know, exactly. It's just that I sort of know how not to provoke him when I'm not up to handling the results, and this would throw me off. However, maybe that's a good thing.
I'm probably just over-thinking it. It's still interesting food for thought, right?
I feel like a good girl tonight, and my Sir just recognized that. It's a huge relief, because we usually seem to be out of sync regarding my progress/behavior lately. I say that not to criticize, but because I am genuinely happy that we're on the same page.
But if he meant it, I think I would object. Maybe just inch it forward, perhaps, and I'd be okay with it... just to keep me on my toes, you know? But too far would mess up our fun. Or my fun. I don't know, exactly. It's just that I sort of know how not to provoke him when I'm not up to handling the results, and this would throw me off. However, maybe that's a good thing.
I'm probably just over-thinking it. It's still interesting food for thought, right?
I feel like a good girl tonight, and my Sir just recognized that. It's a huge relief, because we usually seem to be out of sync regarding my progress/behavior lately. I say that not to criticize, but because I am genuinely happy that we're on the same page.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Sense
Here's something I do not understand: Mature women (I'm sure this happens to men, I just tend to see women discussing it) getting into BDSM and being suddenly unable to detect abuse. Or unable to function within a relationship. Or unable to communicate.
Maybe BDSM isn't the culprit here; maybe it just serves to highlight these flaws in harsher light, but it's very shocking to read some of these issues that women apparently struggle with. "He sed, wed b to getther 4eva bt he left me 4 anotha sub is he a bad dom i still luv him btw, tia" or "How do I change my sexual orientation for him?" or "How many times should I use my safeword before she's supposed to actually stop, and what's your punishment for using your safeword?" or "I'll never leave him, but I want to know how to stop crying at least for part of the day, because I'm so miserable, but I know it would be worse without him." are all topics I've seen/heard discussed lately. Most of them come up over and over again, with various wording, but they all boil down to the same thing. One woman got pissy because her Dom wanted to spend time with his own children instead of her. I wanted to say, "I can see why!' But I digress.
I'm not one who tends to blame the victim, but these people who show up and are trying to figure out how to be a "no-limits slave" are just.... baffling to me. There is NO SUCH THING. I dare anyone out there to contradict this point; to out themselves as the exception. I'll even put out my rebuttal in advance:
"What if your Top wanted to cut your tits off with a chainsaw? What if she wanted you to aid her in something rightfully illegal, or to take the fall for her own illegal actions? What if he denied you and/or your children medical attention? What if his attentions consistently leave you in need of emergency medical treatment? etc.
"If those things are okay with you, then I put forth that you are not fit to be in a romantic relationship of this nature, nor are you capable of consenting due to mental defect. Everyone has a line they won't cross, because we were born with survival instincts. If you think you don't, you have much bigger problems than winning an internet argument against me."
Here's a good measuring stick: If it's something you wouldn't tolerate in a vanilla relationship, chances are it won't fly in BDSM. (There are obvious exceptions to this, but as far as your core beliefs go, it's a pretty good rule of thumb.)
Please note: All instances of "BDSM" in this post are meant to convey any sort of alternate sexuality.
Maybe BDSM isn't the culprit here; maybe it just serves to highlight these flaws in harsher light, but it's very shocking to read some of these issues that women apparently struggle with. "He sed, wed b to getther 4eva bt he left me 4 anotha sub is he a bad dom i still luv him btw, tia" or "How do I change my sexual orientation for him?" or "How many times should I use my safeword before she's supposed to actually stop, and what's your punishment for using your safeword?" or "I'll never leave him, but I want to know how to stop crying at least for part of the day, because I'm so miserable, but I know it would be worse without him." are all topics I've seen/heard discussed lately. Most of them come up over and over again, with various wording, but they all boil down to the same thing. One woman got pissy because her Dom wanted to spend time with his own children instead of her. I wanted to say, "I can see why!' But I digress.
I'm not one who tends to blame the victim, but these people who show up and are trying to figure out how to be a "no-limits slave" are just.... baffling to me. There is NO SUCH THING. I dare anyone out there to contradict this point; to out themselves as the exception. I'll even put out my rebuttal in advance:
"What if your Top wanted to cut your tits off with a chainsaw? What if she wanted you to aid her in something rightfully illegal, or to take the fall for her own illegal actions? What if he denied you and/or your children medical attention? What if his attentions consistently leave you in need of emergency medical treatment? etc.
"If those things are okay with you, then I put forth that you are not fit to be in a romantic relationship of this nature, nor are you capable of consenting due to mental defect. Everyone has a line they won't cross, because we were born with survival instincts. If you think you don't, you have much bigger problems than winning an internet argument against me."
Here's a good measuring stick: If it's something you wouldn't tolerate in a vanilla relationship, chances are it won't fly in BDSM. (There are obvious exceptions to this, but as far as your core beliefs go, it's a pretty good rule of thumb.)
Please note: All instances of "BDSM" in this post are meant to convey any sort of alternate sexuality.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Munching!
I can hear my Sir typing madly at his computer, so I'm guessing he is updating his blog regarding tonight's Munch. It's the first one he's been to, and I'm pretty pleased with how it went. There were only a couple of familiar faces- Talia came in shortly after we did, and another woman he's met. From there, he was able to put faces to names, as I gave him the scoop about the people I'd discussed with him. ("That's J, he has hot legs")
I hadn't realized how much I'd missed seeing one of the bunch until I saw her, and we made quite the commotion with our squeeful greetings. They didn't remember to do introductions until nearly halfway through, and I don't remember if I warned my Sir they might, but I hope that gave him enough time to get comfortable with everyone. We were in the last half to speak, so there had already been some laughs along the way. We discussed an upcoming party, and various other events.
It reminded me that I really need to quit missing events, because going to them recharges me. Have I mentioned lately that I love my local group? They're pretty awesome. I'd love to share specifics, but privacy is an issue, which was a secondary topic of discussion. Oh, and I may be able to attend a play party, to help out- it depends on my Sir's surgery schedule. (There's more than one in the foreseeable future... fun, right?)
UPDATE: So, apparently, that's not what he was typing. I expect he'll update soonish, though.
I hadn't realized how much I'd missed seeing one of the bunch until I saw her, and we made quite the commotion with our squeeful greetings. They didn't remember to do introductions until nearly halfway through, and I don't remember if I warned my Sir they might, but I hope that gave him enough time to get comfortable with everyone. We were in the last half to speak, so there had already been some laughs along the way. We discussed an upcoming party, and various other events.
It reminded me that I really need to quit missing events, because going to them recharges me. Have I mentioned lately that I love my local group? They're pretty awesome. I'd love to share specifics, but privacy is an issue, which was a secondary topic of discussion. Oh, and I may be able to attend a play party, to help out- it depends on my Sir's surgery schedule. (There's more than one in the foreseeable future... fun, right?)
UPDATE: So, apparently, that's not what he was typing. I expect he'll update soonish, though.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Dreams
If, as Walt Disney would have us believe, a dream really is a wish the heart makes when you're fast asleep, my heart is fucked up. I have vivid dreams that I can't always describe in detail, even immediately after I wake up. My therapist notes that dreams come from a nonverbal place in the brain, so that would make sense, which is a relief to me.
Anyway, I rarely have sexual dreams. When I do, they're often really bizarre in nature. I'm often someone other than myself in dreams, as though I'm watching a film (and simultaneously starring in it), and I usually have a semi-lucid moment where I realize, "Wait, how would any of this have happened? I'm married!" and it throws the sequence off, or I write it into the "script" that something has happened to get me to this place.
I once had a dream that I moved to another state to join my best friend and her husband's household. She was there, and her sister-in-law, and they were both married to her husband. But they needed some help in the household, so I went to see what I could do. There were around thirteen kids between the two of them, but I wasn't allowed to talk to any of them. I wasn't even the slightest bit interested in the husband, though he did come onto me a couple of times. I went to church with them, too. But then they got mad at me when I talked to one of their kids, so I went home... to my husband. I wonder if he knew what I was up to!
The whole thing dealt mostly with the 4 of us, and it was highly sexually charged, even though there wasn't any sort of sexual situation. There was something to do with how I had to dress and how the other two women were so keyed in on having sex with him, and I just wasn't interested.
I also once dreamed that the guy who played Draco Malfoy was of legal age and my boyfriend. I'm pretty sure I was reading a LOT of Harry Potter fanfic at the time, though.
Anyway, I rarely have sexual dreams. When I do, they're often really bizarre in nature. I'm often someone other than myself in dreams, as though I'm watching a film (and simultaneously starring in it), and I usually have a semi-lucid moment where I realize, "Wait, how would any of this have happened? I'm married!" and it throws the sequence off, or I write it into the "script" that something has happened to get me to this place.
I once had a dream that I moved to another state to join my best friend and her husband's household. She was there, and her sister-in-law, and they were both married to her husband. But they needed some help in the household, so I went to see what I could do. There were around thirteen kids between the two of them, but I wasn't allowed to talk to any of them. I wasn't even the slightest bit interested in the husband, though he did come onto me a couple of times. I went to church with them, too. But then they got mad at me when I talked to one of their kids, so I went home... to my husband. I wonder if he knew what I was up to!
The whole thing dealt mostly with the 4 of us, and it was highly sexually charged, even though there wasn't any sort of sexual situation. There was something to do with how I had to dress and how the other two women were so keyed in on having sex with him, and I just wasn't interested.
I also once dreamed that the guy who played Draco Malfoy was of legal age and my boyfriend. I'm pretty sure I was reading a LOT of Harry Potter fanfic at the time, though.
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