Monday, December 28, 2015

Subpression and Vulnerability at its Best

I don't know what you call it, but that's what I'm going to call it.


I can only speak for what I've experienced...

There are different levels, much like depression.

Sometimes, it is merely hard to smile. Other times, it's hard to move, at all.

You might find that you can still stand up and get on with your day.

Then again, you might find yourself alone in the dark, on the bathroom floor, covered only with a towel, crying for much longer than you want to admit, because it hurts that bad. Crying for a million reasons (that continuously ricochet in your head like small metal pellets, doing absolutely no good whatsoever), but it's mostly because you fear that you are too much and not enough.

When I realized who I was When I realized what seed was inside me, the barriers, the layers upon layers of deadly protection started to fall. I have a (pointless) fear that I only have a shell of what I once had, and sometimes I kinda want it all back. I'm so happy, but life has come with a price, vulnerability.

Not only am I learning who I am (and how to be okay with who I am), but I'm learning to feel through vulnerability. Living  is amazing, to say the least, but it is hard and scary feeling with clarity after so many years of feeling through murk.

Everything, the good and bad, is magnified. I imagine it would be like someone who was color blind, seeing colors for the first time. Except that's the nice way to see it. You might also compare it to the difference between a needle pricking your finger and a dagger through the gut. The good is out of this world, but so is the bad.

So, with vulnerability has come subpression. And the best advice I have thus far, if you happen to find yourself in the mist or downpour of it, is to let yourself cry and (no matter how painful you might think it will be) continue to do things that feed your submission, do it because it makes you feel good. You already have enough reasons to beat yourself up, don't go throwing more on the plate.

So, yeah, subpression. It's real and it sucks.

Saturday, December 19, 2015

Tell Me It's a Blogger Glitch

The blog is down eight followers in less than 24 hours.

Two in the last twenty minutes.

I'm trying really hard not to take it personally, but eight?

I've lost followers before -one here, one there-, it's to be expected.

But, fuck, eight?

Friday, December 18, 2015

The Monthly Fall

I'm beyond confused.

I just...

Don't understand.

I don't know if it's me. I don't know if it's him. I don't know if it's us.


I can't do it anymore.

Every month, I fall. Every month.

Okay, I only made it about six months back before I couldn't take it anymore. I know there have been many more falls...

The last fall was a bad one. Sometimes I can hold it together, this time I couldn't.

I can't handle it anymore. It shouldn't happen every effing month! It shouldn't, but it does.

It's not PMS. It's not a feather knocking me in the head or the wind blowing the wrong way.

There is more to the pattern, but I'm not going to talk about it. I'm too emotional and lacking other words, my judgment is cloudy.


I'm not doing anything that could lead to a fall.

Which is pretty much everything I love about D/s.

I wouldn't let him tie me up or use the cane.
When he mentioned the mess in the house, I told him he could pick it up.
When he told me to take my pants off, I told him I didn't want to and I didn't.
If he wanted to punish me, I wouldn't let him.

I do put on the collar every night and the plug in every day, but only because I don't want him to think I'm forcing his hand. I'm not defiant.

Basically, I'm starving my submission. I know it won't ever go away, but I can stomp it back down to a seed.

It's better than falling.

Yes, it is that bad.

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Oh Yes, it's Going to be Good

I've been waiting an entire year and it's finally here, a time of blogger comradery by way of food...

The Great Online Cookie Exchange!

A huge thank you to Jz for hosting. Please, stop by her place to check out her recipe and give thanks, as this stuff takes time to put together (and she has to put up with people saying they will join, then saying they won't, only to find yet another email saying they're back in). Also, if you don't already follow her blog, I highly suggest you do, because she's awesome.

Just like the past two years, I've decided to veer you away from cookies. Not to minimize the importance of cookies and desserts by any means (I sure do love all things chocolate), it's just that I like to be different. You know, offer a little variety.

I have to admit, this was my first time making cranberry jalapeño salsa, however I have eaten it many times (it's my mom's recipe) so I already knew it was awesome.

I did not make it because I wanted to eat it. It is just really important that you have a picture.

It's good with pretzels, by the way.

And tortilla chips.

And chicken.

And turkey.

And if you feel like having a spoonful just because it's that good, I won't hold it against you.

Ahem. Anyway...

Cranberry Jalapeño Salsa

1 - 12oz bag of fresh cranberries
1 - bunch of green onions
1 - bunch of cilantro
2 or 3 - jalapeño peppers, seeded
Juice from one lime
Juice from one orange
3/4 Cup - Sugar
1 Tablespoon - olive oil

Chop the cranberries, onions, cilantro, and jalapeño peppers. Place them in a bowl with the rest of the ingredients and mix. You can eat it right away, but I highly recommend letting the salsa sit overnight.

Words of advice:
1. Do not try to chop the cranberries with a knife (but if you want to, go for it). My mom uses a food processor, I used a manual food chopper like this one.
2. If you are not big on sugar, I think 1/2 a cup would suffice.
3. This is a mild salsa, if you want it to be hot, leave some of the jalapeño seeds.
4. Adding a bit of orange and/or lime zest might be something to think about. (Kicking myself for not trying it out)

That's it. So easy. And so good!

Now, I know you are all itching to move on the to next recipe so here's the list. Have fun!

Monday, December 7, 2015

So, My Kids Have A Problem...

They don't think I should be able to lock the bathroom door.

I have to put my plug in everyday and, obviously, I can't do that in front of them.

I try to sneak off!

It doesn't work. Not ever.

The littlest will sit there (not quietly) the entire time...

"Mom! Mom! MOM!!! What are you doing?!" (Clearly, she knows I'm not just going to the bathroom.)

"Going to the bathroom, what do you need?"

"I need to show you a trick with my nose! Right NOW!" 

"I'm almost done, just hold on a second"


I wish I could say she doesn't bang on the door like it's the end of the world, the entire time.

Her trick was balancing a checker on her nose, in case you were wondering.
Well, they aren't missing out, but it is kinda fun... 
Ahhhhhh, the wonderful life of a mom slave.

Thursday, December 3, 2015

Beautiful Acceptance

I think it is easy for us to misjudge and forget the weight of acceptance, all variations of acceptance. It undoubtably surrounds us, a lack of it (though a lack isn't always a bad thing) and a great importance for it.

Thinking back to darker days, I realize now that I never accepted my life or myself. I fought it with everything I had, until I was almost nothing. 

I refused to be broken by a monster. I refused to give him yet more power over me. I refused to accept the trauma of it.

By refusing to accept, I was doing the very thing I was trying to avoid.

Fact is:
I am not who I wanted to be. 
My life wasn't what I wanted and, despite what I told people, it wasn't okay.
I was broken by a monster. 
It was a great trauma that most definitely affected me and my decisions, for years.

I played the part I wanted to be and, after some practice, I believe that I did it well. 

The type of power exchange I want, the kind I need, requires deep honesty and openness. Through this I have come to realize these things.

His acceptance of me had to come first. 

Or, better yet, I had to accept the possibility that he could accept me for all that I am, for all that I am not, and all that my life was, before I could start to accept myself. 

As my true pieces were revealed and as they continue to unravel before my own eyes and his, I see that...

I am thankful that I am not who I wanted to be.
My life is not what I wanted, it is more.
My brokenness may have come from a vile beast, but it has made me a beautiful and unique creature.
Trauma has given me the opportunity to see the world through many different colors--some dark, some bright, but I'm thankful for them all just the same.

Acceptance is indeed powerful. Do not step over it lightly.

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Is it Spring Yet?

I've wanted to write. I come here, start a post, and after some back and forth I delete it and move on. Mind you, I haven't had a lot of time to write. First it was pre-Thanksgiving and Thanksgiving, then PMS and not being sure of my feelings, followed by a misunderstanding, ending with life.

All in a week of Misty. ;)

PMS... I'm pretty sure my body is out to get me.

Misunderstanding... He thought I was purposefully not doing chores and acting like I was, to get punished. Hello, Thanksgiving and PMS. I cannot be held accountable for my actions while dealing with PMS (okay, maybe I can, but still). Yes, I could have been better behaved, but he had my motives all wrong. I didn't have a motive. Honest mistake. It is nice to know he won't put up with that kind of nonsense from me--pretty freakin' sexy, if you ask me.

Life... This week (is it over yet?) has been busy. I'm determined to manage my time better, so I dusted off the old schedule, revamped it, and I've been at it for about three days now. Forever, I know. Sure, it's too soon to tell how awesome I will be at getting it all done (ahem), but so far I'm holding up. The business is having a great week, which is a welcome surprise for this time of year, but it seems to have sucked all the energy out of us.

It is beyond cold here. We've lived here ten years now and I still haven't gotten used to it. Winter temperatures back home are a lot like spring temperatures here. My mom started to tell me that once it's cold, it all feels the same... I happen to know that -20 °F is nothing like 30 °F. I never knew air could be painful until I moved here. We have come close, but we haven't quite reached those low temperatures this year (or the past couple years), but if we keep going at this rate I'll be a Popsicle by the end of January. Not cool.

Well, I know when I start talking about the weather, it's time to go. :)

Oh, and don't forget about the cookie exchange coming up! If you want to join, email Jz soon!

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

The Cane

We have a cane--it is merely a wooden dowel bought from a hardware store (don't buy them from craft stores!) that he cut down (though it's still long) and wrapped a thin strip of leather around one end, creating a nice handle.

In the past, I had mixed disapproving feelings about it, however they have recently started leaning more toward a "hey, I might actually like this" side.

I'm bound in some form or fashion when he uses it, which could be the reason I've opened up to it. I do love being tied up...*dreamy sigh*

But, it's more than that...

He is positively cruel. It's almost as if Daddy went away and brought in Master to take his place.

I wriggle, bobble, and yell, to no avail.

The wriggling only gives him different spots of skin to whack.
The bobbling only gives me a moment of reprieve.
The yelling...pointless.

I also find myself laughing from time-to-time, but it's not at all funny. Strange.

One evening, after a bit of wriggling, he used the leather side on my rear. The plug was in and, to my surprise, I came. It was pretty magical.

The last time, my hands were above my head and he held me to him...I'm pretty sure there wasn't one bit of skin on my ass that wasn't touched by that stick. I found it quite enjoyable in a really painful way. I was also impressed he could do that, it must have been awkward trying to hit me in such close proximity while holding on to me.

So, yeah, I've caught myself actually wanting more of it...

Mosts nights, I kinda, maybe, possibly...hope for it.

But it hurts! So I don't want it.

I don't.


Saturday, November 21, 2015

Calling All Recipes

Every year around this time Jz, over at A Relunctant Bitch, puts together The Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza (click to see past recipes).

Yes, it is as awesome as it sounds. I mean, it is an extravaganza after all.

I would like to encourage you to participate (the more recipes the better!), however, should you decide not to, please do mark the day on your calendar so you can check out all the greatness that surrounds this event. No joke, you gotta check it out.

If you are interested, and I know you are, read below to hear it from Jz herself.

Dust off your baking pans, because on Wednesday, December 9th 2015
The Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza returns!

Won't YOU please join us?

It's easy to play along. 
Just post a recipe that day for a holiday goodie -- any goodie. 
It doesn't have to be for cookies… or even be sweet.
We do not discriminate against any goodie.
(We are equal opportunity consumers around here.)

That's pretty much all there is to it.

The single catch is that there's only one way to get your name in the official list of participants: You have to contact me (Jz) by Monday, Dec. 7th with both your name and the address of your blog.  

Tuesday, November 17, 2015


Punishments have definitely increased, in frequency and pain.

He says to put the plug in at 10am everyday, and he means it. No excuses. Don't get me wrong, I can ask to put it in later or not at all, but it's gotta be for a good reason. And if he allows me to put it in later, it would do me good not to forget it all together...
He says to wear thongs everyday (unless I'm on my period), and he means it. No excuses. 
He says to get my chores done before I do anything recreational, and he means it. Absolutely, no excuses (trust me, I've tried to find a way around this for many a day).
He says to call him if I want to spend more than the allotted allowance and, boy, he really means it.

I have a rather large bruise and some marks to prove he means business.

We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

So, I asked him, "What made you decide to punish me more?"

First off, know that I asked at, what might be, the worst possible time. Not only was his mind elsewhere (on business), but I was feeling kinda emotional. I know to be careful about what I ask when I'm that way...I know I need to take his reply without blowing it up into something else. I know this, but the question came out before I could remind myself of that. Sometimes, I just need to talk!...

He made the change because of me.

Right away, that voice told me, "See, I told you! You're totally mess up and you're forcing him to do something he doesn't want to do."

I could feel my emotions start to boil...

Instead of letting it get to a full boil, I waited to talk to him some more, after his work-day was done.

Yeah, I feel kinda awesome. :)

It turns out, if he didn't want to do it, he wouldn't. He said that some of it takes some getting used to...I think my reaction is what he is mostly concerned about. And making sure he's not going to break my ass. Lol.

I'm thriving.
He wants me to thrive.

Sometime near the end of our conversation, he told me that he would like to see someone else punish me... at that point, my brain turned to mush and I finished cooking dinner. :)

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Lurkers...I Love Ya'

If you don't already know, it is the Love Our Lurkers event!

First off, I want to thank Hermione for making this happen! I encourage everyone to stop by her place, as her blog is full of fun.

I really enjoy this blogging event--not only do I get to say thank you for reading my words, see all the hustle and bustle around blogland, and find some new blogs to follow, but all of you lurkers get a chance to say hello...and maybe even think about starting a blog of your own. ;)

Blogging has its ups and downs just like everything else, but when I struggle, it is you -the reader- that keeps me going. I adore getting comments (talk about a confidence booster) and to see my numbers really makes me feel special. So, thank you!

For some, myself included, commenting can be so stressful. Each comment I make is not done without effort. Sometimes, I will write out a lengthy one and delete the whole thing for one reason or another and leave just a few words, or nothing at all. If you've ever wanted to comment and stopped yourself, please know there is no need for that at my place. Anonymous or not, I would love to hear what you have to say, even if you disagree with me (I find different point of views interesting and I'm open to new ways of thinking).

For the rest of you that don't stress about it... What's the hold up?! Comment, would ya'? :)

Even better than commenting, how about you start your own blog? Reading and writing have saved my sanity. Seriously. This is where I go to feel normal -to be around people like me- and I would love to have more people around. :) I have benefited greatly from sharing my thoughts and I bet you would too. Think about it.

I hope, whether you keep lurking or not, that you enjoy this time created for you!

Now, take a second to say hello, so I can thank you for being one of my lurkers...please! :)

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Do You Feel Submissive Now?

Daddy has been showing his concern for my submissive feelings. So sweet of him...

It started in the basement when he tied me up after many days of struggle. He used rope and a hook in the ceiling to keep my hands lifted and behind my back, so they wouldn't get in the way. He beat me for failing to do what few things he asks of me...and because I needed it. The tears were starting to dry when he started playing...

"Do you feel submissive now, whore?" 

Well, yeah! Duh. He didn't have to ask, he knew.

I was tied up in the basement another night, this time with my arms up and spread, my legs spread just the same, making an X shape. He left me there for awhile and came back to whack me with the crop...

"Do you feel submissive now?" 

If duct tape wasn't covering my mouth he would have seen the huge grin form on my face, but all he got was a nod and a mumble that sounded something like, "Yes, Daddy."

He has checked in to verify my feelings after using my ass, and denying me, and playing with my boobs, and all kinds of fun stuff.

Told you--his concern is so sweet. ;)

Kidding aside, his expectations have heightened and my head couldn't be clearer. It is amazing how that works.
I'm scared I will fall back into that hole, and I probably will, but at least I know he is here to pull me out. 

Saturday, November 7, 2015

Scary Shit

This past week was difficult, to say the least, however I think it was good for us--it was a learning experience.

Sometimes I want to blame him, but I think it's easier to see fault in others rather than ourselves, don't you think?

About half way through I stopped blaming him and started looking at myself.

Yes, I beat myself up pretty good, but in the mist of that I also realized I can't do it by myself. All these years I've been able to handle myself, by myself. I didn't have to talk it out or cry it out. I didn't need to be straightened out. I just pushed it off, no big deal.

As it turns out, all that "pushing it off to the side" I did...I'm paying for now. And so is he. *head desk* It is painfully clear that I can no longer push it away.

There is so much about this that I hate. It feels wrong to need his help and rely on him. Even more so, to ask for help and explain why I need it. It feels so wrong that I've convinced myself that he must not want to help, because what a pain in the ass it must be! I also feel that I'm beyond repair, beyond hope, which doesn't help in the slightest.

He wants to be needed though. I'm not putting him out by asking for a little help. In fact, my asking might stop him from feeling like he has failed me...he takes on so much responsibility...

So the issue isn't that he doesn't want to help, but that I don't know how to talk. I don't know how to be open. You see, inside I'm on my knees, naked and begging for help, while on the outside I'm playing a part. The wall between the two has become much thinner and a big part of me is fighting to keep that wall where it is because I don't know how to be whatever I am on the other side.

Friday, October 30, 2015

Questions for You

You know how life gets busy, or something in life changes, or maybe you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and you feel less compliant...less submissive? Well, what do you do to fix that?

Do you ask your Dominant for something? If so, what do you ask for?
Do you wait for him/her to "fix" it? If so, do you find it gets harder to deal with over time?
Is there something you do on your own to refocus? If so, what?

Less importantly, how does it make you feel? Do you ever feel resentful or do you beat yourself up? Depressed? Doubtful? Do you ignore how it makes you feel and get on with your days? Or maybe it doesn't bother you at all?

If there are any Doms reading...what are your thoughts?

Do you expect your bottom(s) to tell you so you can do something about it?
Do you want them to stay in that zone, outside of a scene?
What if you're super busy, is there some quick way to rectify the problem?
Is there something you do that prevents them from feeling less submissive in the first place?Something other than maintenance spankings.

I'm curious and would love any and all thoughts you're willing to give. :)

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Kids, They Grow Too Fast, Make it Stop!!

My oldest lost her first tooth last week. The day after it fell out, she told me that a boy at her school loves her (she told me, "I was so surprised!"), but she doesn't love him because she loves that boy from her other school and wants to marry him.

Now, I knew she would grow up. I knew at some point this would happen. And, sure, she doesn't know what marriage is, or what it is to love a boy, but this just kinda smacked me in the face!

One day they're all little and you're wiping their butt and, even though it isn't all that bad, you're excited for them to use the toilet. Then they use the toilet and proceed to stick their head in there to see what came out of them, just far enough that their hair gets wet, and you kinda want the diapers back.

Even though there are sure to be many unexpected (and expected) disturbances, I'm so excited to see them learn, grow, and have things I didn't, but this is all happening way too fast.

Tonight we are going to a shindig at her school, which is making me anxious. We don't have to go, but we really do. I just don't want to deal with all the other parents! I want to be involved because I didn't have that and I think it's super important for her to know this school thing is important to us.

I kinda want her to be three again. Lol. Maybe because I'm going into uncharted territory?

Knowing myself, I will be okay (and maybe even have fun) once we are there.

But, I don't wanna go!

Thursday, October 22, 2015

Only Vanilla?

I found a list of submissive writing prompts here and thought I'd give this one a try...
Describe what it would look like if you and your Master decided to have a vanilla-only relationship. What would change? What would stay the same? How would you feel?
Daddy and I have been together for fourteen years, the first twelve were vanilla and, despite moments like this one, I'm 100% sure I would never decide to go back, however should "never" happen...

It would be like taking paint brushes away from a painter or words away from a writer. 
It would be like cutting a tree at its base and expecting it to put down new roots in another climate. 
It would look bleak. 

We are both so happy this way, so much has changed and much would change if we went back. 

There wouldn't be vulnerability or emotional roller coasters, which, at first thought, might not be so bad, however there is great benefit for enduring them. 

There is also sex to think about. Sex makes Daddy so happy. Give the man sports and sex and he will be in heaven. Sex without dominance just doesn't work for me. The relief and joy of finding a way to make sex "work" has been life changing. I can't begin to tell you how heavy the guilt was from all those sexless nights when I knew he wanted it. I can't begin to tell you how important it is to me that I never go back to that. I will not let him down like that again, but if you take away dominance...

I'm sure there are things that would stay the same. I mean, it's not like he would start cleaning the toilets or mopping the floor. He would still be in control of the money. I would still shave. I guess a lot of things would stay the same, yet they would all have a different meaning behind them...they wouldn't have any meaning behind them.

I think it's pretty clear I would be miserable in a vanilla life.

To never again see that smile on his face or gleam in his eyes, to never again feel the collar around my neck or his hand squeezing my throat, to never again feel him hugging my soul, would be to leave me in a sunless desert with no water. 

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Maybe, I Don't Know

I want to write about the rest of our night, really I do. I've tried. I'm just not feelin' it. It's not that we did anything that I don't want to share, or anything like that. I'd like to have pieces of it here for something to look back on.

I don't know, maybe I'm just being lazy.

Writing here has been different the past few months. I don't know what changed. I don't know how to explain either.

Maybe I've said too much...

I like it here though.

I like writing. I like having the opportunity to improve my writing, this place gives me that. Not that I couldn't get that from other places...

I like being around like-minded people's words. It helps. But, I kinda feel alone, too.

I don't know if I should take a break or push through.

Maybe I just need some inspiration.

I don't know.

Monday, October 19, 2015

The Only Way I Want to do Chores

For the third time, in all of our parenting history, we had an evening and the following morning without kids. If you are picturing me frolicking freely through a field of flowers, we're on the same page.

It was fantastic.

Better than fantastic.

It was perfect.

Earlier in the day he told me not to put the clean clothes away, which is really quite odd considering how he is always telling me what a great job I do at getting the pieces in their rightful spots, so he doesn't have to look at them for days (ahem). I thought I was in trouble, and I was, but as it turns out, it was a "I want to be in that kind of trouble all the time" kind of trouble.

Seriously, I might not hang clothes until the next time we get a night to ourselves.

I'm kidding.

Something tells me he wouldn't be too impressed with mounds of clothes laying around for half a year. I guess I will just have to settle on reminiscing as I do the tedious chore.

In part, it went something like this...

I was dressed up in my collar, leash, clamps, a clothespin between my legs, and high heels.

He was close by with the other end of the leash and crop in hand.

The mission? To put away the clothes, of course.

He would say things like, "Hurry up!" And, "You sure aren't moving very fast."

But, you know, it's not all that easy to hurry when someone keeps whacking you and pulling your head up so the clamps, that are attached to your collar, pull ever so much on your nipples. They pull just fine without his help, thank you very much. Okay, okay! I love it when he does that.

And, it's so much fun walking with a clothespin on your clit.

He would also have me bend over from time-to-time, which I would get in trouble for because I wasn't working.

I would also get in trouble if I stopped while he rubbed me in some lovely places.

So deliciously unfair.

When I was done putting my clothes away he walked me down the I could put the kids' clothes away.

Then, when I finally finished, he had me stand with my legs spread and hands cuffed behind my back, while he use the crop on my pussy.

And that was just the beginning!

Monday, October 12, 2015

One at a Time

One thing led to another and it ended with him telling me that I'd better not say, "I can't," again. That was just after the paddle found my ass, twice. I know, I know, two times doesn't seem like a lot, and it's really not, but it was more than enough to get his point across.

I have written about this "paddle" before. It really deserves a name of its own--That Thing, maybe? He took a piece of wood, carved a handle into it and, voilà, pain. I look at That Thing and see this huge piece of wood (seriously, it takes up the entire room!), but it's something close to an inch thick, two inches wide, and two feet long. Point is, it has absolutely no give and it freaking hurts. I want to run away when I see it.

Of course, it's not just the paddle that hurts -why it made its way into his hand hurts more-, so maybe under different circumstances we would get along, but I really hate That Thing. 

So, last night, he got it out because I wanted to measure it. Yeah, didn't really think that one through. It hurts worse when I'm in trouble but, then again, I know he didn't use the same force. After that, I'm thinking hate might be too strong of a word, nonetheless, I still don't like it. I never did get around to measuring the darn thing. 

It was put away for the longest time and I didn't miss it, not once. Sadly, I've felt it twice since we started the change.

He tied me up the first time, felt it for a couple of days... Never underestimate a practical man and his money.

Anyway, this time was hard on both of us. Boy, did I need it though! I was overwhelmed before, super upset for about thirty minutes afterwards, then...the fog lifted.

He even bought me chocolate (a little later that day)! Oh yeah, I'm a lucky girl.

Since then, I've been trying to take one thing at a time, just like he told me to, and for the most part it has worked. I know my To Do list will get the best of me again, but hopefully it will be awhile before that happens!

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

He is My Sound Mind

You know how you start off thinking the problem is there because of abc, but come to find out it's because of xyz?

Well, that's happened to me like a million times in the past two years. Lol. Not that abc (and def, and ghi, and jkl, and...) wasn't a problem, because it was, but it just wasn't the crux. 

Now, I've come to the conclusion that I don't trust myself. 

I just don't. 

And, I hate myself.

So I look to him. 

I trust his judgement because I know him, I know where he came from, and I know he has a sound mind. 

I don't trust myself because I know where I came from. 

Maybe I'm not being fair to myself, but...

I don't know...

Anyway, things are changing around here. I love change. 

It has only been a few days and I am kinda worried that he will decide he really doesn't want change (you know, waiting for the other shoe to drop), but...

Punishment is going to be more of a thing.
We also bought a plug that is going to be for daily use. It's en route-- it could be in Opa-locka, FL, but that's just a wild guess ;).
He is expecting more, enforcing more.
We're talking more, which freaks me out on a whole new level (one of these days he is going to run for the hills, I swear). 

I need all of it but, more importantly, at this point in time, I need to know his sound mind doesn't see me as I see me, that it is really okay, and that he wants it, too.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Crazy, But Not That Crazy

I have come across some pretty crazy women in my day. If you ask Daddy, all women have a bit of crazy, just some have more than others. Don't get me wrong, men have their crazy, too, it just comes in a different form.

I've always counted myself out of the crazy group. Calm, cool, and collected...that was me, until D/s.

Now, know that I would never ever take a baseball bat to his truck. His poker friend's wife, on the other hand... Unbelievably, the guy married her after she trashed his car, which he bought only 3 months prior.

And I would never ever hit my x-boyfriend with my car like an old friend of mine. What can I say, she either hates you or loves you. Good thing is, if you are on her good side she'll hit someone with her car if they hurt you. Miss that girl...

However, I might pack up everything D/s related and stick it in a closet far away from the bedroom, so I would never ever have to see it again. And I might even come up with the idea that Daddy should find someone else to have sex with, but come back home to me.

I didn't tell him about that second part but, unfortunately, I did pack up all our toys and anything that would remind me of D/s.

We talked. It wasn't easy. I'll spare you the details.

Then, after it was decided that we would keep on keepin' on, he told me to go get one toy.

I picked the collar, even though it really isn't a toy.

He was only sorry I didn't bring the clamps as well (which he thinks should come hand-in-hand with collar...but that's another post).

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

One More Thing

I melted into a lovely puddle of goo...


Things didn't go my way, but they didn't exactly go the other way either. I was in a bad mood and little tired. I used all my energy on the kids and trying to keep my focus on things other than my brokenness. I did not feel like sex or anything related. I made that clear.

He wanted me. He made that clear.

So... We compromised.

He bent me over the bed, shoved my face into the mattress, and fucked me. (i.e., what he wanted)

Then we watched a little TV before we went to sleep. (i.e., what I wanted)

And here some of us were thinking that compromise didn't happen in D/s. ;)

Monday, September 28, 2015

Running Music Delima

I started running after we had kids. I even remember the moment I decided that I wanted to run. I had been stuck in the house for a million years and I was sitting at the dinner table looking out the window longing to be outside, then I saw someone running. And that was that.

It took one run to figure out I needed music.

I started out listening to what I always do, however, it didn't take long to figure out that even though I couldn't breathe I still wanted to sing along. Like, out loud. Not only is my singing not made for public consumption, but when you're running, breathing is kinda important...I don't need to explain why it's not a good idea to sing when you're new to running, right?

So, I switched genres and was soon running to guys singing about women bending over and touching their toes on the dance floor, getting more ass than a toilet seat, and drinkin' Hennessy. It totally worked for me. They had a good running beat, I didn't know the words, and I was entertained.

I've started singing along...

Not only that, but...

It kinda makes me want to dance.

We're getting into some serious territory here. 

Let me be clear. This is what I feel like doing...


Which would totally work, if my dancing wasn't worse than my singing! 

Seriously, picture this young lady as a 33 year old woman, and you have me...


Well, okay my dancing isn't too bad after I've had a few drinks, but I'd hate to think about what would happen if I tried to dance while running after drinking. *shutters*

But, sometimes you just gotta do a little dance, you know?! So the other day I couldn't help myself and gave it a go (not at the gym!!). 

I almost fell.

Needless to say, I need to find some new music. 

I'm thinking Classical.

Thursday, September 24, 2015


It's not very often that I find myself in need of sex without him playing with me first (this is not to be confused with my need of dominance, 'cause that I have like all the time). In fact, I'm pretty sure my libido went wayside somewhere in my teens. So when I wake up horny, trying to rub my parts on him and stuff, it throws me.
Don't get me wrong, I love it. I know he loves it. I feel pliable, floaty, and all things lovely.
However, when I get like this, there's a fall back. Soon I will start to freak out about it. Not about being horney per se, not even about what we did to get me to that horney state, truly I'm great with all of that. 
It's the feeling. It's a feeling I used to avoid because I felt like it was wrong. Not that it was wrong, it just felt that way because of what went through my head when I sedated it. That feeling is the same now as it was then, and it feels wrong. It scares me. It feels like I should try to stop it. Yet, at the same time, I want it and I know the feeling is okay to feel, which is major progress if you ask me.
I don't want the crash! I get so very unpliable and it's awful.  
I don't know what to do to stop it from happening either. I'm great at the moment, a little cross-eyed even (lol), which is why I wanted to write about it now. Maybe just saying that the feeling is there -that the need to push it away is knocking on the door-, will be enough to stop the crash?? 
I think this time I will just try to stay horny. I will keep the thoughts coming, even when instinct tells me to stop them. 
Yes, that's what I will do. 
Nasty, dirty thoughts coming right up. Thoughts of being used and exploited will not be pushed away. 
Wish me luck. 

Sunday, September 20, 2015

First Came Wife then Came Slave

I've been thinking about what it means to ask someone down the power exchange road. Not just anyone, but someone whom you've been loving and living with for years, someone you started another kind of life with. Someone that didn't sign up for this.
book series could be written about what comes after the, "Okay, let's do this." I wish someone would hurry up and write them so I could know what the hell we are doing here, or at least a heads up of what's to come.
I can only speak from the bottom side and being the one who asked my love for this. Also keeping in mind this is only a crumb of our whole, not yours...
In order to do my thing, he has to guide. Simple enough...or so one started out thinking.
I was too caught up in myself to think that he probably wouldn't know what he wants or which road to take, right off the bat (or even weeks, months, or maybe even years later). Nor did I take into account that he might even be uncomfortable with the things he wants.
My husband is a provider and protector, and he takes that job very seriously (I've only seen a small part of the weight he carries and that little part is too heavy for me). He saw the importance of it all, the weight of it, way before I did. And he isn't one to take his loved one down a road without having throughly thought it out. And shouldn't he be aloud to become (at least a little) comfortable with himself before bringing me into it? 
For me, that has meant waiting for him, during the frenzy of things and beyond. It meant taking only what he gave because he was nice, and brave, enough to do it for me. It also meant waiting another day to find out what he wanted. I wish I could say I did that gracefully, alas, saying that I did it less than gracefully is painting me in a much better light than I deserve.
Two years later, I'm still waiting to have a clear picture of the road he wants, however I'm thrilled to say that I have a fuzzy picture. 
You see, he waited over ten years for me to be sexual, any kind of sexual. He suffered many nights of unfilled needs, for me. He shut off parts of himself and I'm asking him to turn those parts back on, even though I was the one that taught him to ignore them. In other words, he deserves a lot of time to paint his picture.
I will take the long way around so he has the space he needs, if it is space he wants. If that means I have to wait ten years while he figures it out and finds his voice, so be it. If that means I need to be a mind reader in the mean time, bring it on. I will do my best to offer, so he doesn't have to ask. I will do, so he doesn't have to tell. 
...all within reason, of course.
I will revel in the parts he takes and gives. Those parts are becoming increasingly more frequent after all, which makes it much easier to accept the unknown.
And I will wait, as patiently as I can, for the rest.
I'm sure to struggle, bitch, and whine (let's face it, I'd probably do that with clear direction), but I will do my best, as I know he is doing his best.

Friday, September 11, 2015

That Damn Feather

I feel incredibly vulnerable at the moment. Like overwhelmingly vulnerable. And I wonder if I will ever get used to this shit.

I want to quit doing everything that puts me in contact with people. Of course, I can't do that, but I want to.

I wonder if I'm over-reacting. I think I am, but fuck if I know.

It goes something like this...

I'm doing so good, I feel great, I can take on the world. I do something, he tells me that he wants it done another way, it's frustrating, but I look at it as constructive criticism and move on. I'm also (mostly) comfortable with my thoughts and feelings. I feel capable and confident.

Then something happens. The wind blows a feather that knocks me in the head and I fall over, I guess.

I take a tour though The Land of Question, Insecurity, and Doubt, and end up in I'm Totally Fucked Up Town.

What happens then? Well, when it's pointed out that I've done something wrong, it's no longer constructive criticism, it's further proof that I suck. I try to stop caring because caring hurts...because I can't seem to fucking get it right. You know, stuff like that.

Anyway, Daddy gave me a ticket out and I'm on my way out of I'm Totally Fucked Up Town.

But, I'm leaving there feeling extremely vulnerable and I don't like it, at all.

I wonder if it's a matter of just learning to live with it or maybe it's possible to bottle it up and keep it just for him...

Friday, September 4, 2015

I'm Not...I Can't Be...

"You're such a whore."

"I'm only a whore because you like it."

"No, you're a whore because you're a whore." 

" don't know."

So what if I soaked his hand and the bed?! He made me do it!
And so what if he wiped it all over my face and I kinda liked it? I mean, I immediately wanted wash it off...

Nor does it make a difference that (another night) I had a plug and a vibrating dildo up me, and I was all the while rubbing his cock and sucking that big dildo.

That doesn't make me a whore!

It doesn't.

It just...doesn't.


Monday, August 31, 2015

Basement Bound

She knew something would happen, something that had never happened before, because that's just what he does in special circumstances. This was definitely a special time.

They had spent the last two weeks on separate sides of the county, even missing an anniversary together, because she was long overdue taking the kids to visit family. At moments, time seemed to stand still, as if to test her ever wavering patience, yet just as time passed slowly it went just as quickly, as she made memories with her children, friends, and family. At last, she woke up on the last day of her trip, at which point the minutes turned into hours.

She wore a new dress for him even though it would be late when he picked her and their kids up from the airport. It was a modest navy blue number, although it was shorter than she normally wears--which is saying something because she did fly some thousand miles with two kids in this shorter than normal dress. Special times call for special dress wear, does it not?

He only made it as far as the parking garage before he took advantage of her choice in clothes. While she was buckling the youngest child into her car seat, he lifted the dress to reveal matching underwear (if that's what you would call a small triangle of lacy fabric and a couple strands of elastic) and gave her a quick squeeze.

Not much can be done in a car with two little ones, but he found ways to make her squirm. Once they were on the road and the kids were asleep, he pulled her collar out of the glove box so that she could put it on, which was a wonderful surprise for her. It didn't take long for her bra to come off after that.

They made it home early in the morning, both were tired, but not too tired for him to use her mouth. It had been two weeks, after all. She ached to have him inside her, however she was on her period, thus leaving that ache to be soothed another day. You would not be wrong to assume her utter frustration with her body.

She nestled in his arms for a long, much needed, sleep...until five o'clock in the morning when he would give her another opportunity to swallow his cum.

The following night was the time for something new, just as she expected.

He plugged her and cuffed her wrists and ankles. There was no need for him to put on the collar because it was already around her neck--there was no way she would forget to put it on after so much time away from him.

He led her downstairs to the basement and into the utility room. The floor is concrete and the rafters are exposed, leaving the room chilly, though she didn't take notice the temperature because she was too busy wondering what he was going to do with the workout bench sitting before her.

One might think she would be nervous, but she was only giddy and unable to take the smile off her face. All she wanted was to experience whatever it was that he had planned.

She laid on her back, just as he told her to, he then tied her hands over her head and moved down to her ankles. He added two new hooks to the boards above so he could use rope to hold her legs up and, of course, spread so he would have full access.

Duct tape covered her mouth.

He attached the nipple clamps to her and then to her collar, in a way that left them pulling her nipples. Pain shot through her and a moan escaped her mouth, the first of many. She then felt clothespins on her pussy, just before he cropped her clamped nipples. The smile on her face was fading with that pain, all the same she was enjoying every bit of it.

He switched the clothespins to her nipples and she was sure he was going to put the clamps in place of the clothespins. She knew from past experience how bad it hurt when he put them between her legs and a, "No, no, no," came out of her mouth. She quickly found out that was not what he wanted to hear. The clamps were put on her lips instead, one on top and one on bottom, giving her ability to talk.

"Oh, does that hurt?" He asked nonchalantly, but knowingly.

He made her beg before he took them off, which she didn't hesitate in doing. The pain had her wondering which set of lips hurt worse with them on, though she didn't care to find out.

After more movement of the clamps and clothespins, the magic wand was put on her tender pussy. On high, no less. This got quite the reaction out of her.

In the mist of his play with the crop, clothespins, and clamps, he took the duct tape off her mouth, however because she was being far too vocal with the wand on, he had to cover her mouth again.

He took a moment to pinch her nose shut and ask a rhetorical question--of course she couldn't answer, she couldn't even breathe.

"I forgot you couldn't talk," he faked regret of this purposeful act, and chuckled as he let go of her nose and air filled her lungs. (I truly wish I remembered the whole of what he said, 'cause it was...worth repeating.)

He held the wand on her again and she came an unknown number of times, while he also played with her breasts and stayed in control of her breathing. The clothespins were also put on her nose, which was degrading to her in the most wonderful way.

She wanted him to stop and to never quit. She wanted to touch him, yet stay bound--more than once she tried to move her head so that it would touch his leg, or whatever part of him she could reach. It was more than fulfilling, but she wanted more.

"What do you say?....I shouldn't have to ask." He stated as her body shook before him.

After that, the thank you's came pouring out.

She hated being away from him for so long, but that night almost made the time away worth it. Of course, more than anything, she was just happy to be in his arms.

She is now secretly wishing he will do it all again once her period is finally done. ;)

Friday, August 28, 2015

Almost Home

The last day of our trip is finally here. Tonight (well, technically tomorrow morning), I will sleep in our bed, with him. I can feel the weight of the world lifting off my shoulders and clean air filling my lungs already.

I feel like the kids and I have done everything under the moon -a movie, the circus, museums, a sandy beach, and more, lots more-, everything but relaxing. This trip wasn't about relaxing though, it was about family.

I did get two nights with my best friend and they were everything I knew they would be. She is an awesome aunt to my girls. It's hard living so far away from her...


The first week away, I sent him a few pictures, which he requested. :)

One of those nights I was so tired that I told him that I would pass...he still got his picture. Lol. I was in bed doing my best to fall asleep, but couldn't. I sighed and took the damn picture.

Another time I sent him one without him asking. (Go me!)

However, the second week, there were a couple of nights that I really did pass (I will not feel bad. I will not feel bad. I will not feel bad. I will not feel bad.), because I was far beyond tired.

Besides that, there was no sexual stuff or even thinking about sex stuff. I'm pretty good at pushing those feelings aside when they aren't a possibility...actually they aren't even pushed aside because they just aren't there. Yet, something interesting happened...

I had a dream! (Insert MLK voice.) Not of equality of men, but of someone tying me up and ripping open my shirt. Crazy! I mean it's, CRAZY. These things just don't happen to me. That's all it was, just me tied to a chair and that short act. I was so surprise that I woke up and couldn't even be turned on by it (despite it being hot) was just so out of my ordinary. Lol.

I hope all of you are doing well and enjoyed the past two weeks.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Has it Really Been that Long?!

The kids and I will be leaving soon. I keep telling him that I really don't want to go and he keeps telling me that I do--we are probably both right. 

The kids are going to have a blast doing all the things we have planned. 

I'm going to see my best friend. We will sit on her couch after the kids go to bed, drink in hand, and talk. Just talk, for hours, until we can't stay awake any longer, and I will be so tired the next day, but it won't matter because I miss her that much. 

But, he won't be there...

For TWO weeks...

And I don't know what that's going to be like...


I have a few important days coming up while I'm gone and didn't want to miss the chance to mention them.

The blog will be two years old (on the 18th, I believe)! Isn't that the craziest thing you've ever heard? I have no idea where the time has gone. Thank you all, so much, for being here--it means a lot to me, much more than I could ever express.

Which also means Daddy and I have been at this whole thing for two years. Sometimes it feels like I'm at the beginning, but we really have come a long way, don't you think? (Don't answer that. Lol.)

Most importantly, fourteen years ago (on the 21st) I went to a baseball game with a man that would turn out to be my partner for life. If anything has made me believe in destiny, it is him. It was not chance nor luck that brought us together. 

Daddy, I love you so fucking much. You better take care of my heart while I'm away...or else! 

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Involvement *sigh*

I'm at that blogging point, once again, that I wonder why I am here, why I write about what I do, wondering what people think about the things I write. In other words, I'm insecure. I'm just gonna push through...

Up until recently I didn't know how to explain what I think I need. All I knew is that I wanted more. More of anything that he was willing to give.

I'm going to move between "need" and "want" as if they are same because I'm not at all comfortable with needing. Moving on...

It's just that I have this feeling in my chest, a clawing type feeling. Sometimes it's more pronounced, in which case I always find myself in a pit of mass confusion. It's a battle between logic and feelings (if you haven't noticed, I'm not very logical).

All the little scenarios that run through my head have one thing in common, his involvement in me, however it's not just in me, but in specific things I do. Sexual and non-sexual, it makes no difference.

I realize wanting his involvement is okay, natural even...

I'm trying really hard not to make this one about my past.

I want to be strong! And needing his involvement makes me feel anything but that.

I'm counting on being strong through his involvement.

The reality is that, it's much more than involvement -it's accountability, interest, belief, trust, confidence building, guidance, and a whole bunch of other stuff-, but I think a lot of you get that already.

I know this is a lot to ask of him... Maybe I deserve it, but I really don't...

There's just too many feelings, too many thoughts, to explain it all in one post.

Friday, August 7, 2015


I tried out a new recipe last night for dinner, which he really liked.

Now, I feel like I should say, this doesn't happen often (he has quite the opinion when it comes to food and I might be a bit of an adventurer), so it's very rewarding when it works out (even if the kid's don't like it).

I didn't feel the reward this time, despite his praise.

I feel alone.

I still haven't talked to him.

He is busy, which is awesome, but that means he is tired and has a million other things on his mind. And I'm tired, so tired.

And I don't wanna talk, so I'm finding excuses not to.

I'm also finding excuses not to do the sex thing. *head to desk* *head to desk* *head to desk* 

I keep thinking about how this (talking about this want/need/whatever-it-is) has worked out in the past... Maybe I didn't bring things up in the best of ways, maybe he could have responded differently...maybe we could have both handled it differently.

I know we aren't where we were then, so maybe it would turn out differently. But, maybe it won't, which is enough reason for me to keep my mouth shut. Because how I feel now isn't near as hard as that was.

Ugh. What a mess I've created in my head...

I've tried so hard to shake this. I've tried to keep my mind on other things--I added running back into my workouts (and was even reminded why I love it), meal planning, travel planning, starting school planning (I'm so not ready for this...she's still a baby! Okay, she's five, but still!!), dressing nice for him, the list goes on...but, it's still there, nagging away.

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

The Problem is...

I want it to be about him, but sometimes it's about me.

And I really, really hate that.

I've been so good at "whatever" for so long, and it's just so unfair that I'm not good at it anymore.

I'm horrible at asking for what I want believe I need because of how I feel afterwards (vulnerable, open, raw--just all kinds of yuck), so I don't ask.

I'm horrible at explaining how I feel because I know how I feel effects him, and it never comes out like it does when I write.

"Well, write then," you say.

Well, he wants me to talk, so...

It's not easy, this communication thing. Even if I did know how to talk, it wouldn't be easy. totally sucks admitting you think you need something from someone, something you can't provide for yourself, because that makes you dependent (well, hello there, Ms. Vulnerable. You're a real bitch, you know that, right?).

Not only that but, what if he wants nothing to do with these things I think I need?! What if it's too much work?

And, what if I really don't need it?! What if I just feel this way now because of my stupid monthly cycle?

What if...

I mean, why can't I float along his river and just take what it gives?

I don't want to say, "If you want this, I need more of that," because that's not what I want to be. I just want to give him that, without any of know?

Monday, July 27, 2015

Jz, This One's for You

So you might have had a bigger tomato...

And was lucky enough to be tied to a chair...

And is cool enough to get together with other bloggers...

But, damn it, I finally have a red one!

Oh, and about fifty cucumbers that are about to be turned into pickles. :)

If there is anyone that doesn't already know who Jz is, you can check her out here

Sunday, July 26, 2015

For Fun...Or is it Fact?? ;)

I thought this was pretty funny.

Hopefully I attached the video correctly :)

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

It's What Whores Need

The night started much like any other, kids trying to stay awake as long as possible, him doing his thing, and me doing mine.

Once the kids wer in bed, I jumped in the shower, which I hurried through because I just wanted to relax with him in front of the TV. I didn't shave for the second day in a row--I didn't get in trouble, but...well, you'll see.

I threw on a little gray t-shirt, underwear, and collar, nothing more, nothing less, and finally sunk into the couch with him.

Even though there wasn't much time for relaxing I managed to get a few minutes in before we went off to bed.

All very normal.

"Where is your leash? Put it on."

After a little of this and that, I'm bending over the end of the bed getting fucked. Underwear around my thighs because they didn't quite make it off.

I heard it before I felt it...

The leash whipping across my back.

The sound didn't seem to match up with the pain. I kept expecting it to hurt, really bad. A couple times he got closer to my sides, which hurt more, but the pain was bearable and thrilling.

He stopped with the whipping and moved on to hair pulling, the kind that makes your eyes water.

Then came his hand across my cheek. How he manages to do this while fucking me from behind is beyond me, nevertheless his aim is a good one and my cheek was soon warm. I was lost in him by this point, only able to get out, "Thank you, Daddy," a few times--not near as many that ran through my mind.

Soon his fist, which was full of my hair, pulls me to my knees and he finishes in my mouth.

I love that he pointed out the marks on my back (I would have missed them otherwise) before we readied for bed.

However, much to my surprise, that wasn't all.

We were laying in bed, lights off, snuggled in...

"Get your vibrator and use it for thirty minutes."

Uhhhhh, huh? Is what I thought, but what came out was, "Are you sure?" Lol.

After I made sure this wasn't a joke, I got the vibrator out and he got his phone.

Now, I don't know if he was recording, but that bright light, that is otherwise a flash for the camera, was on. And it wasn't lighting up the room, but my pussy... My freshly not shaved pussy.

Ugh. Talk about regret!

So, I was vibrating while he was down there, with that light...looking around...

It's no different than the last time he saw it, don't know why he had to be so close...

He spread me apart a time or two...

I'm not sure I'm ready to admit... I'm not sure how I feel, but it's not a bad feeling...

Finally, the phone was gone and he stuffed me with the big dildo...I'm told that's what whores need.

In due time, he was done with me and I was off to sleep. :)

Monday, July 20, 2015

Why Not Sooner?

Or in his words, "Why couldn't you have figured out that you were a whore sooner?" But, that's too long of a title.

He has jokingly asked this rhetorical question on multiple occasions (usually after I have displayed some form of not-at-all-like-the-old-me whorishness), and I'd be lying if I said I haven't wondered the same.

I believe life happens in a certain order for a reason (you have to have a foundation before you can start building) and even though those reasons aren't always made clear, they are there.

Thinking back, if he hadn't have come into my life when he did (I was nineteen), I think I would have found the power exchange much sooner. And it would have been bad. I'm sure of it. I mean, I could have fallen into good hands, but...I just have this gut feeling it wouldn't have turned out so great, which is why I think it happened this way for me.

Within the first week of meeting him, I was a different person. For the first time in my life I had a real reason to better myself. I knew I had something special with him and I wasn't going to mess it up.

He filled a much greater need for me than any power exchange relationship, without him, could have filled. I found my someone, but had yet to find myself.

We were happy. We laughed and shared some really great times. We rarely fought. Honestly our relationship was easy, much easier than most around us. It's true that we don't have what we have now, but it was still really good.

Sex was our problem...I just didn't want it. It destroyed me, that I couldn' that for him. I didn't stop to think that maybe there was something out there that could help me overcome my issues.


Then, we had kids. I think it pulled us apart, a little, because kids come first. I could feel a change in myself, as if I was dying inside, and knew I needed a change. I started running, which made me feel better about myself, both physically and mentally. That little bit of confidence opened a door, a very big heavy door...

And here we are.

I would have liked to know I was a whore sooner, especially before kids, but I think I needed the time to be other things first so I could be a better, more appreciative, more stable whore. And maybe he needed that time to be a better Daddy...

Whatever the reasons, I know it all happened exactly how it was supposed to, the way we needed it to, in order to be what we are now.

Saturday, July 18, 2015

Who Knew?! Apparently, Not Me.

There's all these little changes going on. Or maybe I should say big changes happening in little ways. 

I wear my collar every night...

Well, I'm supposed to wear my collar every night, but I tend to forget if I'm busy or if the kids are up late, which hasn't gone unnoticed--not even once. 

The last time I forgot, I found a hand around my throat and pinching fingers on my clit, reassuring me that I do indeed need to wear it, every night. I felt that pinch the next day, and partially into the second day, when I would wipe after going to the bathroom...

I hate that I forgot but, at the same time, thinking back, it sends tingles throughout my body, in an oh-so-good way.

We also have the issue of dishes. Yes, dishes are an issue for this thirty-three year old. I despise hate dishes. I want them to do themselves--dishes that are self-cleaning and put themselves away should totally be a thing.

Two kids can produce an unreasonable amount dishes, in case you didn't already know.

In the past, a few times, he has made me very aware of his disappointment (FYI, it's much easier to do the dishes when someone is not whacking you with a wooden spoon.). Other times, he would verbally correct me. Unfortunately, none of this had a lasting effect...

Turns out I just needed clarification on what he expected. 

Oh, I'm still not where I need to be, but I'm getting better. At the very least, getting them washed is on my mind more often--it feels good to grumble to myself about it.

These changes, along with some others, have come a piece a time.

I didn't really see it happening that way. I'm not really sure how I saw it happening (maybe more of a "all at once" kind of thing??), however, now that I'm here, I see how it happens gradually, yet at different speeds, with each challenge.

Time and communication once again show their importance. Damn them! Lol. 

*     *     *      *

And, you know, after writing this, I'm starting to think that punishment is more of a thing for us than what I've been thinking...



Holy smokes!! How did I not see that?! 

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Submissive I Am

I'm definitely on the submissive side outside of our relationship.

I am not management, nor have I ever wanted to be anything of the sort. This used to bother me because I thought everyone should want to move up in rank, however it doesn't get to me now. Not to toot my own horn but, I'm a damn good employee. I loathe making mistakes, mostly because I see how it effects other people. I'm honest and follow the rules because when I don't it eats at me, for ages, and I hate it. I expect to be an asset--to perform at a certain level and improve the business.

Of course, there are exceptions to my greatness in the work place. ;) I can't have too much freedom. For a short while I worked as a sales rep. (it was something my employer wanted me to try out, and it got me out of the office for a couple hours a day), which I was allowed to go wherever I wanted and I didn't have a quota, basically they didn't have any expectations for, yeah, that didn't turn out very well. Lol. Not only that but, I'm just not good at sales.

The other employer must (this is a very firm and bold "must") appreciate and respect their employees. I don't work for people that don't see the value in each employee...or at least pretend to see their value. My first few jobs were in the restaurant industry--I was a waitress and bar tender. I ended up with a job working in a hotel bar (a world wide hotel chain that you've most definitely heard of), the owner the hotels came in for (what looked like a) business lunch with one other person...he tipped his waitress (not me) $2. He is a billionaire that tipped his employee two freaking dollars. I don't care how long he sat there, or how little he ate, or if he got rich by being conservative with his money, he should have given her more. I would have given him the money back. I was gone within the next two weeks. On the other side of that, I worked for a small restaurant chain that put great care into their employees...I served the owner and, what I believed to be, his family dinner one Sunday night, he tipped me $100, wrote me a letter telling me just how much he appreciated my service, gave me a job in his bar (which included a very nice pay increase), and made sure my managers knew how happy he was with my service (and how unhappy he was with the rest of his restaurant). You can bet your ass I worked hard for them...there was no way I was going to disappoint them after that!

I say all this about employment because the same holds true outside of it. I don't want to be in control (but that's not to say I couldn't do it, because I could, if someone expected it of me). I don't want to be in front, I get more joy from being in the background--I guess you could say that it warms my soul. I thrive when I know what is expected of me--it's a great comfort to be directed and know what is expected of me. I like knowing ways I can help. I set out to make people happy and improve life. I will go above and beyond for people, as long as they value and respect me.

There are other particular things that show how I'm submissive, but there are exceptions to them, and exceptions to those exceptions, and who has time for all of that? :)

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Travel Plans

I'm waiting for my mom to call me so I can book a flight home with the kiddos, which kinda feels like impending doom.

Don't get me wrong, I love home and I want to go home. It's's for two weeks and he has to stay here...

It's draining, these trips. Everyone wants us to go here and there...I've gotten better at saying, "We'll be here, come if you can." But, we still do a lot.

And he won't be there...for two weeks. TWO.

We are also flying from there to the beach to see my grandmother.

That makes for a total of four flights (no layovers, yay!) and six hours of driving (boo).

Kill me now.

The kids are going to have a blast at the beach though. I love the beach, and miss it greatly.

And I really miss my grandmother. The three year old has yet to meet her and the other doesn't remember the last time we saw her.

It will be good.

It will.

I hope.

Sunday, July 12, 2015

The (Pointless) Debate of Who is Better

I sat down, like a million days ago (which was probably more like three days ago), to write a post. I started listing off ways that I'm submissive outside of our relationship (tori gave me the idea on my last post) because I am that--a submissive person.

Anyway, while I was listing, I got to wondering...

Will someone find my natural submissiveness offensive in some way? Will someone think that I'm bragging? Will they see me as weak or as a pushover?

'Cause that's a thing right? Natural versus not natural, submissive versus slave, etcetera, etcetera.
People thinking they are better than the next, because their way is the best way.
People thinking they are superior because they "do more" or do it the "right way", or even because they "would never do that".

This has to be one of the stupidest things. Ever.

This is not a competition. There are no ladders here -within and between labels-, there are only ladders within ourselves.

A sub is no less of a person, no less of a partner, than a slave--and vise versa.

A slave isn't more of a slave because they are more willing or have more rules.

Just because something isn't right for you, doesn't mean it isn't right for me.

We are just...different.

We are only human, therefore judgments such as this will come from the best of us, but it's still pretty stupid.

And that's that.

Now, just bear with me for another million days and I'll finish that post ;)

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Not Feelin' It

I want to write. Really, I do. I just haven't made the time, I guess.

I want to write about sexy stuff, but I'm just not "there". Stupid periods.

I'm back to focusing on how I suck at everything. Stupid periods.

Oh, but even though I don't have enough time to do what I need to, I want to more to do. That totally makes sense, right?

I want something to work towards. Something I can actively work at. Something to challenge me.

I could work on keeping the yard weed free, or the house dust free, or this, or that.

I'm sure there's kinky things I could work at (can't remember the last time I put the plug in), as well,

Okay, okay! I want him to tell me to do these things. I want him to challenge me. Sigh.

I should probably mention that when he points out something I could do better, instead of thinking, "Okay, he's right. I could pay more attention to that." I think, "Great, something else I suck at."

So, I'm not really giving him much to work with.

Nope, no warm submissive feelings here.

Stupid periods.

Sometimes I wish I had a dick.

Anyone have post ideas? Something for me to muse on? Questions? Anything at all?

Monday, June 29, 2015


I know I shouldn't be but, I'm blown away by the stupidity I am seeing surrounding the legalization of same sex marriage. 

Honestly, it's pissing me off.

I even went as far as posting my thoughts on Facebook, which I never do. Okay, so it wasn't about my opinion on the law itself, but about what I think defines someones worth and appreciating individuality.

I wanted to put a little love out there, you know?

But now, I want to punch people.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Just Call Me Crazy

Yep, that would work ;)
Even if chocolate and six million dollars would be a fantastic distraction to any ill feelings,  it truly helps to get some special attention...

That includes cuffs, leash, and collar...

And pain...

Particularly in the vagina area.

Just saying.

Oh, and by the way, I'm done denying that my mood changes more often than the weather.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

The Mood

I was pretty stupid to think that would have no backlash.

It's not that I regret it, actually I'm glad I did. I only had a few moments of, "Oh, my God. What did I just do?!" I mean, that post could have pushed me to delete the entire blog, which I was mindful of from the beginning.

It's just that I've been thinking too much about all of it.

Now, I'm in this mood. Which is totally awesome.

Been here before. Really fucking tired of it, too.

I feel like I can't give him what he needs or wants. He wants a wife that he doesn't have to manage. Hell, I am thirty-three, I shouldn't have to be managed!! But, damned if I don't crave the hell out of it. Damned if it doesn' 

I start thinking that he doesn't want this. Truthfully, he doesn't need this (not like I apparently do), he would be fine going back. I would go back, but the sex...I just can't seem to get into normal sex. He is very sexual.

Then I start to feel like I'm trying to get him to do something he doesn't want to do.

That's when I really start to fight it. 

I asked him if he would be happier with someone else. He thought it was a pretty stupid question. I think he would be, nevertheless I'll be here until he kicks me out.

What can I do?! How do I stop these thoughts from happening? I'm so tired of it. I know, more than likely, my feelings aren't real (who knows, maybe he would like to manage me more...).

I know I can't read other blogs when I get like this. No, sir, it does no good, at all. (See, I'm learning!)

I know I'm probably looking at it from the wrong angle, but I just can't see past it and it's having a bad effect on my willingness (which frustrates both of us).

And it feels like these feelings are happening more often--probably something to do with the whole vulnerable thing.


I haven't forgot about the comments on my last post, that I've yet to reply to. I will get to them soon, promise.