Monday, December 29, 2014


Life is good, and very full. Sure, there are things that could be better, but it's okay that they're not.

I look at our kids and my heart fills with happiness. I love how they are growing. I love who they are. I'm excited to see where they go in life.

I don't know what it is about Daddy, but something is different. Or maybe he is exactly the same, and I'm seeing him differently? I don't know, but I feel very pliable at the moment. I just want to be...His. I want to be engulfed with Him. I want to follow him around, on my hands and knees. I really, really, really don't want to do something wrong--it stings more (if you can believe that) when I don't get it right.  

I feel like the different pieces of me are all lined up and working together like they should. I'm a mom, a wife, and a whore, all at the same time. It's wonderful!

I feel loved...and it hurts, in a good, yet scary kind of way.

Monday, December 22, 2014

Daddy and Gifts

Daddy is very practical and, being as such, it is difficult to find him a present.. One year, for Christmas or his birthday (can't remember which), I bought him a new stereo for his work vehicle. It had a CD player and built in satellite radio--you know, for those areas (in the middle of nowhere) where he can't get sports radio. He ended up returning it because he has a radio that works perfectly fine and doesn't mind silence in those dead areas. Sigh. Don't know what I was thinking... :)

However, our first Christmas together, thirteen years ago, was one of the few times I got it right. It was close to Christmas and my mom wanted to give Daddy his gift, so I decided to go ahead and give him mine as well. It was a new fishing rod and reel--a nice one, he loved it, still has it. *grins* It gets better. He was going to wait until Christmas to give me mine ('cause he is one of those that can wait), but after I gave him is gift he tells me to hold on and runs out side. He comes back in and, low and behold, he had a fishing pole! For me! Lol. So crazy!! We are so meant for each other.

Anyway, this year I could only think of one thing I could get him, that wasn't socks, but still practical. I didn't want him to know I bought him anything at all (because he told me not to buy him anything), so I went out with the kids, bought the item, and put it in the trunk of my car, thinking I could bring it in the next day while he was at work. Totally thought I had this in the bag and was feeling pretty darn awesome!

Turns out he wanted to run to the grocery store to pick up some stuff and he was taking the car. Of course he would put his bought items in the trunk, 'cause that's what we do. I started to freak out a bit, however, while he was in the bedroom I scurried outside, grabbed the gift, ran back in and stuffed it inside the closet by the front door that holds all our coats (it's winter, btw). Seriously, why can't I think these things through?! I was trying keep my breathing normal and thought I was in the clear, when he reached for the closet...

Dum, dum, dummm.

I ran over, grabbed the door knob just before he was able to, and asked him what he was doing. I'm smooth like that. He looked at me like I was crazy and answered, "I'm getting my coat," with an implied duh. I told him that I would get it for him and gave the excuse, "I need to clean the closet." It was the first thing that popped in my head! LOL. 

Needless to say, he knows about the gift, but at least he doesn't know what it is! 

Friday, December 19, 2014

Under Construction

He read my post no more than two hours after I posted it--that in itself was enough to shock some of the angst out of me. "I see you posted..." he said. I wanted to crawl into a hole and hug him at the same time.

I think he was a little perturbed that I hadn't told him sooner and I told him via the blog, but, you know, with all the stuff we've had going on I didn't feel we had the time for it. It's not exactly the conversation to have while wrapping presents or when little ears around. I also didn't want to be one that added more stress to his life. Apparently he didn't feel those were justified excuses, "You have to talk to me more."... "There is no excuse."

The whole thing was like a wound that was never cleaned and left to fester. I really thought it would just go away without any help. I used to be able to do that! Guess it's different now...

We talked some while the kids were on the verge of sleep and again before bed with him in the chair and I on the floor. It's scary admitting to problems, and it's even scarier admitting problems to someone that holds your world and has the power to break it...

He isn't giving up on me, not even a little, which makes me so happy that tears are forming as I type. (Really, what have I done to deserve such a great husband?!)

I might feel different tomorrow, but I think writing yesterday's post was a good thing. All of your comments...I don't even know how to explain...just...thank you all so much!  Daddy is filling up my holes, but all of you are taking part in that as well.

Thursday, December 18, 2014


I'm sad. My head is a mess. It's still this, except it's grown.

We've all been sick. Some nights I feel like I'm sleeping before I get in bed. And there's the little issue of money. His truck started leaking so he had to fix that. There's many, many stresses that have gotten  in our way. As a result, we haven't done our talking thing in five or six days.

I wonder if he want this (D/s) and I still wonder if I am capable of giving him what he wants. And really, if I'm not capable of giving him what he wants then why would he want D/s from me?

I don't know what to do. I don't know how to get this fucking shit out of my head. There is so much hate inside me for the way I feel, for the way that I am, that if the only way to get rid of it and have it never come back, means giving up on D/s, I might take that exchange. The guilt and disgust I have for myself is just too much. So much so that I push him away. I don't want him touching me because I feel like I can't do it right. Well, there is more than that (more than I know how to explain), but I think that's the main part (that I can't do it right). I'm just broken. It fucking kills me that I'm this way.

I probably shouldn't post this, but I am anyway.

Saturday, December 13, 2014


I wrote a post about why I feel insecure, that I didn't post (obviously) but, shared with him. It listed some specific things that got me here and, now that he has read it, I don't feel like posting it. It's just that, I don't want anyone else to hear my recent epic fails.

I very much want to be this perfect person--a perfect mom, wife, and slave (or is wife and slave one of the same?). I know perfect is impossible to reach, but maybe if I was just a little closer to perfect I would be a little more confident...

I hate when my imperfections eat away at me. 

Domino Effect, that was the title of the un-post. 'Cause that is exactly what it's like, except the first domino in my lineup is the biggest one, and falls the slowest, taking its sweet time to crash into the next. (Why is this paragraph in a different font?! It's driving me nuts.)

The thing is, I know better. I know. I really, really know better. Unfortunately, knowing and executing what I know are two totally different things. 

When he pulls out that darn paddle because I've done something wrong, everything I know disappears. Knowing that I want it, turns into thinking that I don't want it. Knowing that I should hold still, turns into knowing that I need to get away (because it really freaking hurts!). (No, this has nothing to do with that first domino, but maybe one of the medium sized ones though...sigh.)

I guess it's like that with a lot of things, huh? We can go to school, learn a trade, but it's not until you're hands-on that you become what you've learned. 

Daddy's words, "We're all learning here." I guess he is right, once again. Maybe I just need more hands-on experience.

Ha, ha...hands-on experience...I crack myself up sometimes. 

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

It's a Cookie (and Granola) Kind of Day

This is so exciting! Today is The Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza! I was totally going to tell all of you it was coming -in case you didn't already know- so you could participate if you wanted, but I failed to do so, obviously...sorry about that!

Jz is the one who puts this awesome event on the calendar, so big thanks goes out to her! Hope all of you take the time to stop by her place.

I do have one bit of advice, which I learned from my first TGOCEE last year, if you're hungry it's a good idea to go eat something, then read everyone's posts. Trust me. In fact, even if you're not hungry, it may be a good idea to have a bag of carrots or something of the like close by, just in case.

Let's get to it, shall we?

Granola. It's a wonderful thing. Eat it for a snack, as cereal, with yogurt, on top of ice cream, on top of oatmeal, give it as a gift--really, what could you not do with granola? Okay, maybe there's a lot of things you can't do with granola, but it's so easy to make!

I don't know about you but, I'm all about easy these days.

Nutty Honey Granola

2 cups  old fashioned oats
1/2 cup chopped pecans
1/2 cup chopped almonds
1/2 cup sunflower seeds
1/3 cup olive oil
1/3 cup honey
1 tea salt
1/4 tea   cinnamon
Pinch     nutmeg
1/2 tea-1 tea vanilla (I just poor some in)
1/2 cup dried blueberries

Note: I would like you to think of this recipe as more of a guideline because there's just so many different wonderful ingredients you could use. For example, when I say to use honey, it's perfectly okay to use maple syrup instead, or you could use chocolate instead of dried blueberries (heck, you could use chocolate and blueberries for that matter). Also use any nut/seed combination that you'd like, so long as it totals 1 1/2 cups.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit

Mix together everything, except the dried blueberries, in a large bowl. Spread out on a baking sheet and place in the oven. It normally takes around 15 minutes, but this is one of those things that the nose just knows. When you have a wonderful nutty and faint cinnamon smell extruding from your oven, it's ready.

Note: I have actually let it go longer than what my nose told me to turned out awful. Don't let that happen to you. 

Mix in the dried blueberries. At this point you can do one of two things: 1. let it cool as is, 2. spread it back out on the baking sheet, pat it down a bit with a spatula, and cool. I always do the latter because I like my granola clumpy and I've somehow got it in my head that that's the only way it will clump together--it might clump together the other way, *shrugs shoulders* who knows.

Store in a sealed container.

I hope you all have a great time at The Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza this year! You can find past entries by clicking here, and below is a list of participants this year.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Busy Being Busy

I've been busy, like just-shoot-me-now busy. It's work and the other work I do for Daddy's business. It's being sick and tired. And kids. And the mess kids make. And Christmas is coming. And I'm sure there's more, I just can't remember.

So, here I sit while there are all these things I should be doing. I just need a flipping moment to whine to myself...while the kids are off making a bigger mess.

The house needs cleaning like something fierce. However, I have to pick up all the toys (that have been scattered throughout while I've been working away on the computer) before I can even think about cleaning. Which, you know, could take a week. Sigh.

And here I sit.

We are still talking every night, with him in the chair and I on my knees. It's really nice that he does this. I was thinking that after a few days he would give up on me, but I should have known better. He'll ask how my day was, what I have planned for tomorrow, things I've done that make him happy, things I could have done better, stuff like that--which I actually like talking about. It's when he asks how I've been feeling and what my thoughts have been like, that I start to clam up. I don't know, it just feels wrong. I know it's not wrong, it just feels that way.

Anyway, better get going. Sigh. Wish me luck sanity.

Friday, November 28, 2014

From Fighting it, to Wanting it, and Back Again

In lieu of my most recent meltdown (and an email he probably didn't like too much) Daddy started something new a little over five days ago. 

It's really uncomfortable. It's far from easy. When it is time, I have a great urge to run away. Far, far away. 

Daddy is...he is making me...deep breath...

He is making me... talk.

About my feelings.



Not only is he making me talk, but he has me do it on my knees, in nothing but a shirt, panties, and a plug.

Okay, I kinda like that part.

My head will be in his lap, he will play with my hair or rub my shoulders for a moment, which is relaxing. Then it starts with, "How was your day?" Which is the point when the tension in my chest builds and my legs start twitching at the ready. My answers to his questions are short, offering no more than necessary. I just want it to be over with. I would much rather write...

Not soon enough, it's over and we move on to other uncomfortable things, which moves the tension in my chest lower and the twitching in my legs higher...

Being on display kinda does that to me...

So, when it's all said and done, talking doesn't seem so terrible, however, when the next day comes to an end the whole venture starts over. Sigh.

I see the good in it and I don't want him to stop, yet it makes me crawl in my skin...

You know, until I'm back to being used like a whore, then it's all fine and dandy.

Monday, November 17, 2014


My thoughts are starting to get away from me, once again. They are going places that aren't real and have left me feeling vulnerable, insecure, and stressed. I've been through this enough times now to know I'm being irrational.

It's not just D/s stuff, it's everything.

My head feels out of control, like it's all just too much, yet not enough, and alnfvnaerlfnouxhvdflbnaohwn... ya' know what I mean?

All day I've been trying to wrap these thoughts up and push them to the side, and I've just started to wonder if this is something I should tell him. I don't even know if he would want to know. I don't want him to worry or anything--there isn't reason for worry, it's all in my head and will pass. And, really, what could he do about it anyway.

Unfortunately, this is one of those times that I could blow up. Sigh. You know, one of those times that if he happened to question why I didn't do something, I might (not so kindly) try to turn it around on him. Or if he happened to point out something I did wrong, I might tell him that he could always do it himself...

Which is why I'm writing, even though I still feel like I should be able to handle these things without his help. I just really don't want to be a person that blows up like that.

I think it's hard on me because I don't know how to handle vulnerable and insecure.

Yeah, I really don't like those feelings.

Friday, November 14, 2014

In the Absence of...

Daddy has started this new thing. Actually, I'm not exactly sure it's a "thing" (a thing that will continue on and stick around), but it's definitely something--the ache between my legs gives me indication of that.

I would have paid more attention if I'd have known, but seeing as how he has always liked me cumming, I haven't kept track...

I think I've only came once, maybe twice, since the duct tape night. 

Oh, make no mistake though, he is still having his fun. 

I sheepishly mentioned that I noticed the absence. His reply?

"You don't need it, and I've been tired." 

Interesting how he isn't too tired to pinch, spank harder than he ever has before, shove his cock down my throat, and such things...

Of course, I've been contemplating -how I feel, how my body feels, how I feel about how my body feels, and even my actions and attitude- and I've decided that I like it.

The ache reminds me of Daddy, and that I'm his. It reminds me that I can do better, that I should try harder, that I want to try harder. 

I want him to tie me up and do unspeakable things to me. I want duct tape again. Maybe even get out the hook. And clamps. And something around my neck. I definitely want him to fuck me, hard... see what my mind is doing! So unfair :)

I want him to do those unspeakable things and forbid me to cum while he is doing them, but...oh how I ache! 

Not that I could withstand any of that without accidentally cumming, but I'd like to try.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Lovin' My Lurkers

I see that it is Love Our Lurkers Day. Last year I was here, but did not participate because I had only been blogging for a couple months and I wasn't brave enough, however, I'm here today!


I love you. I'm not sure I would be here right now if it wasn't for you. When insecurities get the best of me, I look at my increasing views and I realize I'm saying something worth reading. Now, I'm not exactly sure why all of you find my words worth reading but, I do appreciate it, greatly.

Now for the fun part, the part where you comment :). Okay, so you don't have to comment, but you should, 'cause I'd love you to be more than a number. Don't make me beg, I'm horrible at it.

Again, thank you for reading.



Sunday, November 9, 2014

Why Do I Like Things that I Don't Like?

That is the question currently floating around in my head. 

'Cause why do I like things I don't like?

I'm not talking about the things that I really like, but don't want to admit to liking, or the things I don't like at all. No, I'm talking of things that I don't like, but turn me into a pliable whore.

Take him rubbing my juices all over my face, for example. I can't really say I like that, it feels gross, and it makes me want to wash my face. But, damned if I don't like it. 

I'm inclined to say that it is his dominance that makes me like it, but maybe it's also because I like feeling used?

Or maybe I like it because I like to be pleasing?

Or maybe I'm a just whore?

All of the above?

Maybe someone out there might share their thoughts...

If you are the "s" in D/s, why do you like things you don't? Do you even have things you don't like, yet like? 

If you are the "D", why do you think your "s" likes things they don't like?

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Figuring it Out, and a Little More

Things have been good, other things have only been okay, which is life.

I've been focusing on what is happening in this house, rather than back home; not that things are oh-so-terrible back home, it's just, you know, every time I think of home I think of my Grandma. Focusing on the here and now has helped, I think.

Anyway, Daddy and I are good, great even. I have moments of wanting more control and guidance (don't we all?), but it has become easier to accept things for the way they are, and I push through with little angst. I feel like Daddy is getting better at understanding how I think--not an easy task, let me tell you. I think we are just figuring it out, ya' know?

And, let's see, what else...

Oh yes, there was that night... He tied my hands behind my back and led me down the stairs. I knelt on the couch so my front was to the back of the couch. He put a leash around my neck (pulled the end through the handle and put the loop over my head (sure would love a collar...just sayin')) and attached the end to a board under the couch (the board wouldn't move because he put a heavy weight on top of it). So there I was, hands behind my back and my head only able to move slightly...he hit me a little, had my face, and then my ass. I remember asking him to fuck me and, wish I could remember his exact words but, it was a don't-bother-asking-again, "No." Towards the end he had his hand wrapped in my hair, holding my head so my cheek was pressed into the couch. The leash was digging into my jaw and the back of my neck, and the way that I was bent wasn't at all comfortable, but, thankfully, he wasn't too concerned with my comfort... The whole thing makes me squirm in my seat just thinking about it. It was amazingly fantastic.

And there was that other night, a couple nights ago... I was in bed this time, wrists cuffed to the bed and face up. He had me cum a few times, then left the dildo in me while he had my ass, but not before he put duct tape over my mouth...

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Air Travel

It had been awhile since flew without kids, and, let me tell you, it was freakin' awesome!

No scurrying to get your stuff into those buckets, shoes off of everyone, and the stroller folded, all while making sure the kids don't run off. No extra bags of toys to keep the kids busy on the plane. No trying to fit into those tiny bathrooms on the plane with two kids--no trying to fit a stroller and two kids into a bathroom stall at the airport. No running to the next gate--I walked some 80 gates, stopped to buy some chocolate and water, and still made it to my connecting flight before they started boarding, which is truly amazing.

I also had the opportunity to people watch (rather than doing the don't-take-your-eyes-off-your-kids-for-one-second-because-who-knows-what-might-happen-if-you-do thing), which made me feel kinda uncool. I do believe that this is one place people feel like they can show off all their electronics, and pillows. Did you know they have luggage with four-wheels now? Well, they do. You can roll it along side of you, rather than behind you...not sure if that's easier or just makes you look cool...

What is it about Ginger Ale? Do that many people drink it at home, or is it just an airplane thing?

And why is it so important for people to board the plane first? It's not like you're going to get a better seat, or take off any earlier...maybe they want a chance to get out their computers and pillows for everyone to see?

Then, of course you have the first-classers with their large seats, extra leg room, and a curtain that separates them from us economy folk. Yes, they pay extra, I know! But...okay, I'm just jealous. But, why do they have to be all smug about it, with their blankets and pillows, and drinks already in hand when I walk by? Alright, I might be smug to. Might even say, a bit too loud, "Mmmm, what a refreshing first-class Ginger Ale this is," as people pass by. Because, you know, everything must be better in first-class!

In conclusion, if you want to be one of the cool people when traveling by air, don't fly with kids (young ones, at least), bring all your electronics (don't forget Bose headphones) and a special neck pillow, take extra money for Starbucks (what?!, didn't you know you look cool with a Starbucks in hand?), pay extra for first class, and drink Ginger Ale. And, for the love of god, if you have to bring small kids, do not let them run around the airport in nothing but a diaper!

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Part of Death

I don't care much for the way death has made me feel and think.

Some moments I feel as if everything is bullshit. We all end up the same way. 

At other moments I feel as if everything is fragile and underappreciated. We only have so much time, and it goes so fast.

I'm sure there is a line between the two that I should be walking, but I can't see it at the moment.

Some hold onto religion in times like these, my grandma would have (I have family that is), but me? I don't know...I don't feel like praising the lord that she's gone to a better place.

But, I'm not here to have a discussion about religion.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is that, we all deal with it differently, and we all do things that make us feel better about it as a whole...

Because it's not just about one death, is it? It's about all the deaths, including our own, that we will endure over the course of our lives--and wondering when they will all happen and how bad it will be.

I'm trying to end this post with something more positive, something lighthearted, however with every positive there is a negative, and my heart isn't very light....

Maybe I will write something a little less morbid tomorrow, after I've slept in my husbands arms.

Monday, October 20, 2014

Part of Living

I've been sitting here wondering how to start, what to say, and if I should say anything at all. I don't want to face it. I just don't want to. But it's happened, there is no pushing it off to the side for another day.

My grandma passed away.

I feel like I've given the impression that my childhood was full of misery, but it wasn't. I had many, many good times. I had a lot of good ones with her.

The memories keep flying at me--the things she used to do, the things we used to do, the person she used to be.

She had Alzheimer's -the woman from my childhood has been gone for sometime now- so I'm glad it's over for her, that she's gone home but, for my own selfish reasons, I want her back.

I am flying home by myself. I'm going to be without my kids and my husband for four days. There hasn't been one day that has gone by that I haven't seen my girl's faces since they were born, and I'm about to go four entire days without them... I'm not sure it would be such a big deal if it were under different circumstances but, seeing as how death and life are staring directly at me, going just one day without seeing their faces or having their arms around me...

I know this is just part of living and it will all be okay but...

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

It isn't Easy

I started blogging because of an urge to write, which is weird because I used to avoid writing--writing meant I had to look within myself, and it was that I avoided at all costs.

Blogging has turned out to be more than sharing my journey, it has turned into a self-revelation, and it hasn't been easy.

As a child I learned that I shouldn't share what my life entailed, and as I grew I learned that I shouldn't share my thoughts either. I became good at being someone that I thought I should be, someone like everyone else. I did what I could to push the real me to the smallest corner of my mind.

Writing has brought the real me to these pages, and it hasn't been easy.

I'm still not sure of who I am. Somehow the real me and the me that I created, have gotten mixed up. I'm closer to untangling the two, but I panic sometimes. Blogging has made me panic, at times, because I'm not used to sharing myself. Now, I realize that I don't have to blog -I could write in a journal-, but there's something I get from being here that I don't get from writing in a journal, so I continue on.

I have worried about what people think of me here, but recently I've begun to think it's more about me worrying that I'm not okay in the head. Does that make sense? This isn't easy to explain.

I worry that I'm too different, that I'm

When I was eleven, my mom took me to a psychologist (or someone of the like, I can't remember her title). It was a non-profit business. She asked me a lot of questions, and I mostly lied about them--I'm sure she knew that. Then my dad was mentioned, I broke down and started crying. I don't remember what she asked or what was said about him, I just remember crying and trying my hardest to keep it in. Not many people talked to me about my dad. Later, I asked my mom if I had to go back, she told me that they wouldn't see me again, that they couldn't help me. I remember those exact words, "They can't help you." Maybe it was because it was a non-profit and they didn't have the space for someone that wasn't going to be honest, maybe it was because they knew I didn't want to be helped (you can't help someone that doesn't want it), it could have been a lot of things, but hearing my mom say that, confirmed what I already thought--I couldn't be helped, I was beyond it.

Anyway, it's times like that, that taught me to hide who I am. So it's not so much that I care about what you think, but what I think about myself. And seeing myself on these pages...I don't know...some of it I like, and some of it I don't.

It's good for me to be here, but it isn't easy.

Friday, October 10, 2014

Change Within

Thank you, Roz, for asking, "What is the biggest change you have noticed in yourself and in your husband since incorporating ttwd into your relationship?" It really was a thinker so...

I asked Daddy what he thought, his response was, "I haven't changed. Well, I'm happier." 

A lot has changed in the past year with the way we do things (and those things are easy to see), but it's hard to see change in ourselves, for whatever reason, so I started to wonder if we have changed. 

Then it dawned on me, the biggest change is that we are more of ourselves. D/s has given us the freedom to be who we are. 

I feel like I should have more to say about this, but I got nothin' else. Lol. 

Tuesday, October 7, 2014


I still have some questions to answer, from lil and Roz, and I will get to them, eventually, but for now... 

The other night, he took me down stairs, in cuffs, for the first time.

He turned the couch around so the back was facing the tv and figured out a way to tie my wrists up so my arms were hanging over the back of the couch (and my knees on the cushions).

It was pretty awesome.

Turns out he wanted to keep an eye on the baseball game while having his way with my butt...yeah, sports are that important over here.

And I love that he did that! Not sure why, but I do.

I can't help but laugh knowing he missed a home run (that ended up being the run that won the game) while I was sucking him.

I'm thinking, if we do more of that I might start to like watching baseball on the very least I won't fall asleep anymore :)

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

My Inspiration

lil was kind enough to offer some ideas for me to write about, here is one...

What do you feel most inspires your submission?

For the sake of my over-thinking mind, I need to clarify that I write of my submission within D/s.

My first thought was that it had to be my husband. The man put up with me for twelve years without D/s (not that D/s has made me "better" but, at least I can see my mistakes now). I strongly want to be someone better than I was, someone that he could be proud to have on his arm, because he deserves that.

And that is highly inspiring but, then I got to thinking, like I tend to do...

When I "do" for him, no matter if I'm making his lunch or falling to my knees, I'm filled with purpose and I feel alive. And it is that...

It is what runs through my veins and ignites when I'm doing something for him or because of him. 
It is what makes my head swim. 
It is having someone to fall back on when the world sucks. 
It is when my mind clears and I'm able to focus because it is filled with him. 
It is enjoying who is within my skin. 
It is living, really living.

It's that's The Feeling.

Sure, a good slap to the face or his paddle can give some good inspiration, and there is much inspiration because he deserves more from me, however, it's The Feeling that inspires my submission the most. I crave it. I want more of it. I want to be consumed with it. 

When I feel like I can't go on or I'm incapable of doing this, it is The Feeling that reminds me that I'm  where I'm supposed to be, and I keep going. 

Ahhhhhh, the writing itch is cured! :) 

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Blocked. Got Ideas?

Every time I sit down to write nothing comes out. I hate this.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Damn cursor. 

Blink. Blink. Blink. Sigh.

200th post here. 

Yesterday, I asked Daddy for ideas. "Write about how much you like things in your ass," he says. Men. I guess it's not a bad idea, but how many times can one write about... 

So I spent a few hours yesterday with the plug in. What is it about plugs? Seriously, how do they make things better?! I was all frustrated, fidgety, and didn't know where I should start on my never ending list of things that need to be done. Then the plug goes was magical! The frustration disappeared and I just started getting things done...don't ask me what it is I actually got done but, darn it, I got stuff done.  

It's hard changing habits, especially when you are trying to change habits you've been doing for thirteen years. Seriously, the stuff that comes out of my mouth when he points out something I've done wrong, or haven't done at all, etc., etc.. Why can't I just say something like, "You're right," and leave it at that? He sure does like slapping my face...

This has to be the worst 200th post ever posted.

I have new hair. I added some highlights. Very exciting.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Oh, I give up! Does anyone have any ideas or questions? Don't be shy. Help, please. 

Sunday, September 28, 2014


I'm lacking in things to write about, yet maybe I'm lacking the ability to write about any one thing.

We had a yard sale this weekend. Never want to do that again. Unfortunately, we got rained out one of the two days, so we are on again for next Saturday...

I feel like our D/s is...I don't's like we have slipped into natural places. It feels kind of normal (in a not-so-normal way) and comfortable (in an uncomfortable way).

He made me look at him in the eyes! While we know...doing things. Why is that so hard for me to do?! Seriously, after all we've been through, you would think it would be easier. It's just so...overwhelming. I can look at him easy enough, when he is not looking at me...

I briefly mentioned before that I started writing a fantasy of mine, and well, I'm still writing it. It helps when I have the writing itch and have nothing else to write about, but it's easier than it looks, or maybe I just think too much. Lol. I don't know why I get this way! I think about: (1) grammar (which I don't know squat about), (2) I want to make it mostly realistic (but it's a fantasy!), and seeing as I have no experience (even reading experience) with the subject, I'm not sure I can accomplish that, (3) maybe I shouldn't share it here (but if I don't, what's the point of thinking about grammar?!), (4) I've been contemplating what it would be like to actually go through it--what my worries might be, why my worries wouldn't be in other places, and if (a variation of) it would even be possible for us, (5) fantasies have a way of getting away from you and where this one has gone (in my head, not on paper) is kind of..., (6) why in the world can't I just write without all this extra thinking?!?

Monday, September 22, 2014

I Gave Up on...Something

He asked me if I was done pouting, and I told him I was done with all of it. That we should just add this (D/s) to the list of things I can't do and move on. 

So, I'm done (not really...but kind of).

He tells me there are things that will not change despite my "being done" (especially now that he knows I like sex (sigh. Lol)). It's relieving to know that he thinks there is no going back...'cause there is no going back.

I felt relieved when I told him I was done, and I've been thinking a lot about that--wondering why I would feel like a ton bricks was lifted off my shoulders when I gave up on something that has filled me up and made me whole.

I don't think I gave up on the whole endeavor (which was my intention), but I gave up on...something. Maybe I gave up on my expectations, yet maybe it was more than that...

I think I was putting an importance on things that weren't really that important.

My rules (that I was beginning to resent because he didn't seem to care about them) have turned into something else. They are ways to make him happy, not ways to make me happy (ummm, duh). 

Maybe I let go of some control that was no longer mine...

You know, maybe I gave up on trying to change. Maybe I have been trying way too hard to change who we are. 

Well, now I'm more confused than I was when I started this post...

What I do know is that I feel much more at ease and...yeah, that's all I got. Lol.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

And We Continue on Our Way

When Daddy told me he didn't know if he wanted D/s anymore, it was only out if concern for me. 

See, I shut off a good portion of my emotions a long time ago. It was the only way I knew how to deal with my problems. D/s turned them back on and learning how to feel again...hasn't been easy. Calling him Daddy left me feeling extra vulnerable, which turned into other feelings. I was...honestly, I don't know what I was. 

At first, my thoughts were scattered. I would grab onto a thought and, before I knew it, the darn thing would slip through my fingers. Then, I got angry at the world. Thankfully, that didn't last too long and I moved on to accepting that I like calling him Daddy. 

That acceptance did something to me. It changed me. It made me uncomfortable, vulnerable, and insecure.

I started questioning everything--if he knew what he was doing, if I knew what I was doing, if this, if that...

I was a mess.

I tried to be where he wasn't and talked to him as little as possible (the second day of this, the first time we exchanged words was after two in the afternoon, and he had been home all day)...I know he doesn't like to see me cry and I didn't want to say something I didn't mean...I was just trying to figure it out, ya know?

Maybe if I had just asked for reassurance? Or a hug? Or...something?

Anyway, I've gotten this way before, and he questioned if I was really happy, if this really was the best thing for it wasn't just this time, this was just the last straw. 

Sometimes we just need to take a step back and remove our emotions to see what is real. I see now that I've gone wrong in many ways, and not just with this. 

My expectations have gotten away with me, again. Sigh.

What?! This isn't easy, okay!

No one is a fault here though. This was just something that had to happen in order for us to move forward, and moving forward we are. Thank goodness!

Thank you all for your hugs and comments on my last post -I will respond to them as soon as I can-, they were all comforting to me. I have had very little time to read all of your post (why do I feel so bad about that?!), but I hope to catch up at some point! 

Thursday, September 11, 2014

I don't want to think of a title

I'm so confused right now. 

He doesn't know... (*takes a deep breath and sits up tall*) he doesn't know if he wants D/s.

He wonders if it's good for us.

He just doesn't understand...

But whatever he wants I will be okay. Truly, I will. I only need him.

If he chooses to keep the D/s going, I requested something. Well, it's a bit more than a request, but not quite a demand (ugh, maybe it is a demand). I don't know if it was/is fair of me, but I don't see how I can trust... 

I think this has a lot to do with the door that was opened by this Daddy thing. I don't know if he expected...I don't think he realizes...I don't think he knows how common it is for highs to be really high and lows to be lower than low...nor how to deal with the lows...

I'm trying not to sound like I'm complaining, because I'm really not. This is what it is.

I will be happy to finally know what he wants, and it feels good to give him the choice. 

Monday, September 8, 2014

Accepting Daddy

Funny how a name -or, in this case, a name change- has altered the way I think. He is still my husband, still Master in a way, I am still me, the sky is still blue (or gray), and the world is still spinning exactly as it did yesterday, yet it's different.

As I was working this morning, focused on my task (ahem), something dawned on me, and I couldn't stop the tears.

I think part of my unease is not unease at all, it's naivety. I don't know what it feels like to have someone to protect me, to take care of me, to provide for me, to help me make the right choices, to guide me, to give me security, etc..

These things have been on his table all along, waiting for me to reach out and take them. I just didn't want to see.

At one point, a long time ago, I looked for what he wants to give me now, in those around me. Maybe it was there, maybe it wasn't, it doesn't really matter now. The point is, I want it, but it feels...odd. Like I'm stepping into new skin.

I'm going to accept that I don't think it's okay that I like calling him Daddy.

I'm going to enjoy calling him Daddy--he likes it, I like it, and that's what matters, right?

I'm going to squeeze my eyes shut, reach out and take what he has offered all along, and hope -with all the strength I have- that he will never take it away.

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Watch Out, I Might Kick You

I'm going to attempt to write this on my phone; sure don't know why Google and their billions can't spend a little money on blogger and the app...

I'm pissy.

It's just...I don't know...I'm mad about everything that pops into my messed up little head.

I'm mad that I've been lazy and didn't do the dishes...he ended up doing them.

I mad because I pick up toys, only to find new ones have taken their place.

Mad that he told me to put in the glass plug -that feels like Mt. Everest- last night. Oh but, it wasn't just because he told me to put it in that has me mad...when I had the thing more than half way in, he comes in the room, "What are you doing?" As if it wasn't obvious! I explained that I was trying to get the damn thing in my ass, at which point he tells me he was joking, I could have just put in the black one. Never mind that he took it out and fucked my ass before he crammed the damn thing all the way in, and then fucked my pussy (which was totally hot, btw), but I'm still mad about the "just kidding" part!

I'm mad at the wind blowing my hair, and the commercials on TV, and...that I keep forgetting things he has asked me to do, and he doesn't seem to care.

I'm mad that I have to figure out how to actually talk to him about how I feel--apparently, the blog isn't the place to do it, or even start a conversation. Seriously, this is going to take years to figure out...

Not to mention my past that keeps fucking with my present...fucking asshole dad.

So, yeah, just a little pissy today...

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Further Thoughts

Back to the post before last (see here), I think what worried me was that I was/am going to lose myself, or get so caught up in D/s that I forget about everything else. One, it is ridiculous to think he would ever let me forget about everything else. Two, after reading the comments on said post, I have concluded that obsession is just part of the deal and I just need to get used to it. Three, this obsession is not a bad thing--I'm a better, happier person because of D/s, and anything that can do that, can't be bad.

And my last post (see here), sigh. I know I shouldn't mix the two -my dad, and Master-, but that's easier said then done. Logically, I know Daddy is just a name, but in my head it's more than that. It's a lot of illogical things that have nothing to do with the name or Master. However, I can't deny that when the name is applied to Master, it leaves me with a sense of security. One of the many things I can't help but wonder is, if I feel more secure because I lacked that security when I was a child...and, if that's so, I think that is really messed up.

I've read a few things on Daddy Dom's, and the name fits Master.

I don't know, the whole thing has got me really confused and I'm just not ready to explore my feelings, any more than I have done here. Maybe once it isn't so new...

And unless he tells me to do otherwise, Master will be used on the blog until...some point in time.

Also, it's very important that everyone knows that I'm only applying this to myself. I don't think others are messed up if they like/use the name Daddy. Truly, I have absolutely no judgement to pass there.

Monday, September 1, 2014

I Shouldn't, but I Do

I've known that he has wanted something for some time now (like a few months into us starting D/s). He never really came out and said, "I want this," but I knew. And since that realization, it's been there, hanging over my head. So unfair--because, you know, things like that start messing with your head (you start thinking about actually doing it, when you don't want to think about doing it).

Oh man, this is really hard to talk about.

This thing happened and it didn't have a negative I think it should have...if my head wasn't so messed up...

Anyway, a couple weeks ago (maybe longer, maybe not) I asked him if he would like it, because I needed to know he really wanted it before I started working myself up to actually doing it. He told me that he thought he would like it, but he didn't want it to have a bad affect on me.

Nothing else was said about it, until last night...

Maybe it's so difficult because some part of me wants it, and it isn't just because he wants it...and that's so messed up.


I have some serious dad problems, actually my dad problems are at the root of all my problems...

But, Daddy is just a name right?!

My dad was never a daddy, he really wasn't even a dad. He was more like the male human that contributed the sperm that was used in my making, so it really shouldn't be such a big deal to call Master, Daddy...but, it is.

I mean, "Daddy," came out easy enough when he told me that's what he wanted and that's what I was going to do, but now that I'm thinking about it...and thinking about how it made me it didn't feel it maybe, kinda, possibly felt right...on top of what we were doing in that moment...

I can't stop myself from thinking how messed up that is!

There's no real way for all of you to know just how messed up it is without explaining more about who my dad is and what he has done, but I just won't go there...I worry about making people uncomfortable.

But knowing that he wants me to call him Daddy...

I'm trying to be honest with myself here, and it's not easy.

I don't want him to change his mind...

I want him to keep telling me that he wants me to call him Daddy, because that's what I need...

I need to be pushed to do this.

I want it. I do. But I'm fighting that feeling because a huge part of me thinks I shouldn't want it.

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Books, Obsessing, and Balance

It's been awhile since I've read. Like a year. I mean I've picked up books, read a few pages,, I just have had other things on my mind (like him tying me up) and I just haven't been able to get into it. I haven't felt that urge to go off into someone else's world because, ya' know, I've been obsessed my life has been pretty exciting lately.

But I do love reading. I tend to like the supernatural kind, and I stay away from based on true stories (I figure, why read about real life when I'm living real life). Don't get me wrong, all books have their time and place (well, most do), but I like reading about places I can't go, it lets my imagination fly. Going back in time with Jane Austen -and the like- is quite enjoyable, as well.

To the point...

I took my daughters to the library the other day, and happened across the last Sookie Stackhouse novel by Charlaine Harris, Dead Ever After, and decided to check it out. I've read the previous eleven books in the series and have put off reading this last one for some reason (ahem).

I really wanted to take this one slow, being the last one and all.

I read the darn thing in two days.

But I get this way. I become fanatical about things. And when I'm in this state, it's hard to put my thoughts elsewhere--I can do it, but it's not without effort.

So I figure that's what I've been doing with D/s -obsessing about it and him- and I think maybe I've gone wrong in that.

I want ttwd to be our way of life forever -I want it to flow, and evolve, and become what it will, and never ever go away- and I want to exist for him...but I don't want to be consumed with it.

I'm probably not making any sense. lol.

I want ttwd to always be there, but I want balance, too. We need balance. It's important. Therefore, I think I need to work on that balance--to try to find a way to have D/s there, but not put so much pressure/importance on it...

I think that's what I'm trying to get at...

But it is important, so...ugh...I don't know! lol

I need to find time space in my head for everything. To find a way to have the addiction and life coexist at the same time, without letting one consume the other.

Yeah, that's what I'm trying to say...

I think.

Monday, August 25, 2014

And the World Faded

We were on the couch when instructed me to take off my pants, to get him a beer, and close the curtains. I got up closed the curtains and brought him his beer. It was the wrong flavor so I went back for the other kind...

"I told you to take your pants off. Don't come back in here with them on," he says implying I should have known better.

"It's cold in here." Why do I do that?! We all know I wanted to take off my pants for him... 

"I don't care."

He pulled me onto his lap by my hair -positioned me so my ass was in the air- and started pinching my clit...

For the first time in who knows how long, the world faded and I was his. It was just him, me, and his pinching fingers.

It was only nine o'clock (kids went to sleep early!) when he said he wanted to go to bed. He got there before me...

"You forgot to put the sheets on the bed." He really didn't seem bothered by this though.

Come to think of it, the whole evening was kind of peculiar. 

I run and grab the sheets out of the dryer, and when I get back he is leaning on the dresser, cutting off pieces of a peach. I thought he would help me make the bed. It didn't take me long to figure out that wasn't going to happen.

I scurried around the bed, while he ate and enjoyed watching me, which kinda made me feel...good?

When I got to the corner he was near, he ran the tip of the paring knife across my bottom a couple times, lightly scratching...

That was it for the knife, but there was other stuff. Oh yes, there was other stuff. Some breath play, lots more pinching, the vibrator, and I can't remember what else. But it was wonderful to get back to that place--I missed it so!

Thursday, August 21, 2014


As sure as I can feel a change in the air, I feel change coming in my life. For the most part, I like change. Change, to me, means opportunity.

As far as Master and I go, we have had many changes in our relationship over the past year and we are definitely moving on to more changes--more opportunities. I am ready for this particular change.

I want to do something to mark this point in my life, and I've decided to change the title of my blog (though the address will stay the same).

I don't do this lightly. I wonder what some might think. I wonder if it is the right time, if there is a time for this at all. Being the over-thinker I am, I wonder a lot of things. However, I feel the new name is more fitting to who I am now and who I will become.

I think a submission to slavery is what I am doing now and I want that to be reflected in the title of my blog.

My heart does a skip when I think of being his slave, of having that deep connection with him, and in that I know this is the right thing to do.

And, besides, if I change my mind, I can always change it back. (grins)

*closes eyes and hopes for the best*

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Inching My Way Back on the Horse

I've been going through a thing--not really sure what to call it. All this life stuff has my mind scrambled.

And I've fallen off the horse. 

I'm going to attempt to make this next part as painless as I can...

I've mentioned before that I was sexually abused when I was a child...and, in another post, I mentioned that I have a problem with pushing Master away, which is a result of being's almost like an instinct (not sure how else to explain that, and I really don't want to get into it)...from what I can tell it happens more often when my mind isn't in the right place. Sigh.

I've been trying to think of ways to pull out of it. Trying to work it out on my own (until recently). I think that made it worse. It has been growing over the past two months.

So, yeah, the whole scrambled mind thing has, ummm, been a problem. We're working on it though. He's working on it on me. Me? I'm mad at the situation. Mad that it is a situation. I've been worried that I might turn back into who I was before. I know that's irrational. There is no going back to that, not after I've found this part of me, but I don't want to loose hold -even for a moment- of the real me, the me that is what he deserves. 

As far as the life stuff, there are things I can't control, and I need to stop focusing on them. I can accept them -accept that they have and will happen- and move on. Enjoy the seasons of life--past, present, and future. I can focus on all the good I have. There is a lot of good around here and it would be a shame to miss out on it because I'm worried about things I can't change.

Monday, August 18, 2014

A Year for You

Today is the big day! I can't believe it's here!

It has been exactly one year since I started writing here! Wow. A complete year of my craziness in black and white (scary thought), but I don't want to talk about me today, because today is about YOU! That's right, today is about each and every one of you, because without you this place wouldn't be what it is. I have cried, bitched, whined, laughed, mused, and so much more, and I wouldn't have been able to do it without all the acceptance from you.

And I can't thank you enough.

When I first started reading about D/s I came across a blog that put this blog in motion. I was touched by her words in a big way, and I became inspired. The inner writer in me (holy cow, am I writer?!) woke up and said, "I want to write like that!" Now, of course, I will never be able to write like lil over at Submissive Sanctuary, but she sure did inspire me and she continues to do so.

Please know that this could have been many of you -so many of you are inspiring, wonderful writers- but I happened upon her blog first, and it feels like the right time to give some credit. 

I also have to thank lil, His slut, tori, Bleuame, little girl, abby, Del Fonte, mc kitten, and Roz for all being here since the beginning (well, within the first two months)--you have stuck it out with me for a year (are you crazy?!) and I find myself incredibly lucky to have lady's like you around for advice and support.

But, here's the thing, no matter how long you've been here -be it one year or one week- you are so important to what I do here. All of you make me feel like I belong...

Now look at me, I'm all emotional!

I guess that's no surprise. lol.

Anyway, the list below is everyone that has played a part in my blog, and I deeply thank all of you for reading and taking the time to comment. *crossing my fingers that I didn't forget anyone!*

abby (finally finding "me")
Amber Wolfe aka brat (Mortuary Chick)
Aurora (Not Your Everyday Fairy Tale)
Ava Grace (The Beauty of Submission)
Awkward Frog Blue (Awkward Frog Blue)
Betsy T (My life as a Sexually Submissive Woman)
BigDlils (Big D lil s Life)
Bleuame (private blog, but here is her profile)
Brooke Austin (Practicing Surrender)
Chickadee (Just Chickie)
davefan0609 (davefan0609)
David F. (blog is no longer active)
DelFonte (A Place of Fancies)
Faerie Wings (faerie learns to fly)
Flordia Dom (Florida Dom's Corner)
Fondles (Fondlers Anonymous)
Han van Meegeren (Infinitesimal Thoughts)
His slut (Thoughts From His Slut)
Irishey (Irishey's Isle)
Jackie Berlant (Google+)
Joey (Joey and Friends)
lil (Submissive Sanctuary)
little (willing slut)
little girl (Master's Submissive Little Girl)
Master49 (The Taming of L)
mostly mouse (The Power Exchange)
mc kitten (Pillow Talk)
Mickey (Blissfully Submissive, may she RIP)
Mistress Marie (Mistress Marie and Her Slave!)
NeedyT (Google+)
Pearl Necklace (Happily Surrendered and Submissive)
Roz (Roz in his hands)
Sarah (Clear As Mud)
saturn 2013 (blog is no longer active)
scarlet (scarlet's submission)
Slave David (Mistress Marie and Her Slave!)
slave destiny (Reclaiming *~destiny~*)
Sophia (Loving Submission)
Spankingly Good Time (Love and Marriage in New England)
sub hub in phx (submissive husband in Phoenix)
Subrina (Subrina ~ Finding Our Way in This Thing We Do)
Tiklish (pusseezablur)
Tomsrose (Tom's Rose)
tori (Pain's Pleasure)
1ManView (2 blogs see Blogger Profile)
2009dag (blog is no longer active)

Monday, August 11, 2014

Punishment: I want it, but I don't

Punishment (in the physical form) is something I've wanted from the beginning (no secret there, see this post), and my feelings about it was the cause of a lot of our problems--I thought it absolutely had to happen, when he thought otherwise. He believed I should obey because I wanted to obey, not because I would be punished if I didn't.

Through much not needed turmoil, and with some great advice, I figured out that it really wasn't necessary. And where I'm still a little conflicted on the topic -because he is right, but not entirely right...I mean he is always right (grins), but I feel there's more to it- I let it go months ago and stopped fighting his decision, and guess what? The world didn't end and we are still doing D/s. Go figure.

But that's not the point of this post. 

The point is, now he finds it necessary. Humpf.

And ya' know, I couldn't be more confused about how I feel about punishment--as if I wasn't confused before (you can read a little about that here).

When I see that darn, almost inch thick wooden, paddle in his hand I know I've pushed him to that point and he is disappointed in me, which obviously does not feel good. And when said paddle collides with my bottom, it does not feel good either, in anyway, whatsoever.

I cringe when I see that paddle and my urge to run is strong.  

In that moment I really don't want him to do it. I try to talk him out of it...

The thing is though, I do still want it, even when I don't. I would be so upset if he listened to my pleas because it makes me feel more... of something I can't put my finger on.

Afterwords, I am more focused--I am not thinking about how I have failed, yet how I could do better, and that is a very nice change.

But, the thing is, I don't want him to feel like he has to do it, and I don't want to feel his disappointment.

And it really, really hurts. I try to stay still, really I do, but my mind and body sure don't feel the same about it, and my bottom just won't stay still!

I think I feel closer to him, maybe.

And even though I know I should obey without it, and for the most part I do, but knowing I will get hit with that darn paddle if I forget my plug when I leave the house...well, let's just say I haven't forgot it once since that punishment.

Oh, and the control he has over me in those moments is so deliciously wonderful.

And, I guess that's all I can come up with at this point in time...

Friday, August 8, 2014

Just Keeps Getting Better

Disclaimer: I highly suggest you avoid this post, it will not make your day any better.

Death is one tragedy I don't have a lot of experience with and, to be blunt, it scares the shit out of me. Not death necessarily, but how it will feel to loose those I love, to have a hole in my life where they belong. 

I have been so lucky to have had my grandparents for so long and that they have played an important part in my life. My mom has been single for a good portion of my life and my grandparents helped raise me from a baby. They are in their 80's...

I've told you that my best friends grandpa has cancer, found out last week my aunt (one that I was around a lot growing up) had a heart attack (and because I don't do the Facebook thing anymore I didn't find out until weeks later), found out yesterday my grandpa had to have surgery the night before, my grandma has Alzheimer's and it's getting bad fast, another grandpa has never been too healthy and is dwindling as well, and my mom, she's killing herself one drink at a time.

I'm just so scared to loose them, especially the grandpa that just had surgery--he pretty much took the place of my dad, he gave me away at our wedding...

I'm just so scared--I know I can't change it, we are all going to die at some point, but...

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Trying to Refocus

I'm not exactly sure I should be writing at the moment. I don't really want to think. It could be good though.

I haven't slept in three days--okay, that's an exaggeration, but not as much of one as you might think.

I just feel so...incompetent. It's not like I'm anymore incompetent than I was a month ago, so not sure why it's such a big deal now. Maybe I'm just seeing it more clearly now? Who knows.

He says it's because I'm on my period, which ended yesterday, or was it the day before yesterday...what day is it again?

And, ya' know what makes it worse? My incompetence isn't entirely my fault. It's just...there. It is one of those things that falls under the "life isn't fair" category.

I know I shouldn't let these things get to me, but what if it never changes? It just seems like the harder I try, the worse it gets and...the more I push him away ('cause I don't feel good enough?) and...the less he touches me...and none of that fair to him, or to me.

I just need to focus on the things that are a little easier to change...yeah, that's what I need to do...

Thursday, July 31, 2014

I Am...

I think a thank you is in order for all your comments on my last post! They truly helped me/us with this and I will reply to all of them as soon as I can.

Master and I married five years ago, we were together eight years before that, and only one of those years has been D/s. We belong to each other, but I am his and I will always be his. When I first realized what I could have with was like breathing fresh air for the first time in my nineteen years of living. I recognized that I could have the life I wanted with him, a better life than what I started with. I needed him in my life, and I still do. Starting D/s only allowed me to accept how much I need him. He is my fresh air I can't live without. I don't think he would ever want to live without me either, I know he loves me...much more than I deserve. There's not much either of us could do to make us want to go separate ways.

Limits, sure I have them. I'm not jumping off of any buildings for him--not sure he could even get me to the top of one. The whole "cut off an arm/leg limit" thing I've heard a little about, I would do that for him because he would never want me to cut off my arm unless it was threatening my know, like if a zombie bit me or something. However, limits that involve kinky things, I'm wide open to suggestion, but if I really, really don't want to do something he won't make me, because there would have to be a good, verifiable reason for me not to do something he wants, and he knows that. Point is, I completely trust that he won't ask me to jump off a building, or eat a bug, or cut off my finger, or do something that would hurt me mentally or physically.

Choices, I have many choices. He has made it very clear he wants and expects me to do what he says, but it's my choice to do those things. No gun is pointed to my head. If he wants me to make myself cum while he and his dad are downstairs working on the hot water heater, I can choose to do that or not. There might be consequences if I don't, but it's still my choice. I choose to do what he says. I choose to not give myself an out. I choose to do what he expects. If he wants my body and mind, he's got it, however he wants it, and that's my choice. As far as life changing choices, he would never not ask me for my opinion--sometimes he agrees with me and sometimes he doesn't. As a family, we are a team and he is the leader.

It seems like everyone is in agreement that we get to pick what we are, I'm not completely sure I like that idea because I like to have a straight forward answers, but it is what it is. I'm deciding to adopt a theory that actions don't play into what I am--it doesn't matter what our rituals are, the amount of pain given and received, my limits or lack of, or if I have a collar around my neck or a plug in my ass. What matters is what is in my heart and mind--that I ache to be what he wants and do what he wants, that I yearn to be his forever, that my world would be less than nothing without him in it, that I get a great pleasure from pleasing him, that I'm willing to talk to him even when I really don't want to talk, that I will do what he says even when I really don't want get the picture, right?

But, having said all of that -for no reason other than I wanted to say it-, I am his slave because he says I am (smiles so big it hurts). He says that I am his property, and who would I be to argue with that? And it doesn't matter if his slave has choices, and limits, and doesn't wear a collar, and writes he/him instead of He/Him, and calls him doody head, and is his partner for life, because that's who he wants his slave to be...and that's me!

So slave I am, however I don't think we are M/s yet. We just need more time to get there, but I really think that's where were going (smiles so big it hurts).

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Back to Wondering What I Am

So, reading over at lil's place, has got me thinking (doesn't she do that to you too?!)...

And I know I've touched on this subject before (here)...

But what the heck is the difference between a sub and slave?!?!? Seriously, tell me. 'Cause it doesn't seem like there is a clear line when it comes to those two labels, and for some reason it seems important to me...what am I?!

Sometimes I feel like a slave, other times not-so-much...does that mean I'm a sub/slave? Can you be both? I don't mind being one or the other...obviously I want to be a slave, but I'm really okay with being a sub...

Isn't it weird that I can feel like a slave, but I don't know what makes a slave, a slave? lol Gosh, this is all so confusing!

Am I a slave if Master says I am, even if I don't feel like I am? I mean, he calls me a whore, but that doesn't mean I really am one, by definition anyway :)

Awhile ago, someone said to me that they were more of a slave than I am. It was meant to be funny...but it stung a little. It is the "more" part that gets to me. Can a sub/slave be more of a sub/slave than another, when dynamics are so different? Or could someone be more of a sub/slave because they've been doing it longer?

Maybe I should be asking what the difference is between D/s and M/s...

It's not that this really matters, because it won't change what we're doing and who I am, but I'd like to know where the line is drawn...okay, what I really want to know is, what I am and what are we doing over here.

And it's completely okay if no one can answer or wants to answer...'cause I'm not sure I would touch this one if I was reading this on another blog, lol. Though it does seem to be clearer when I look at others, than when I look at myself...

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Small Parts

It is the sand, the rocks, the water, and it's creatures. It is not the ocean. 

It is each petal and leaf. It is not the flower.  

It is each word. It is the mind that put those words exactly where they should be. It is not the book.

It is each stroke of the brush. It is each color. It is the eyes that saw it before the canvas did. It is not the painting.

It is the small parts, that make the whole, that are significant and beautiful. 
It is the small parts, that work together reaching towards a same goal, that make it significant and beautiful.

It is the way he looks at me.
It is the way he touches me.
It is the way the words leave his mouth when he talks to me.
It is the way he cares for me.
It is his love...

That makes me significant and beautiful.