Monday, November 29, 2010

with cuffs on

Sometimes, when I'm sitting working or just playing around online, he'll show up with the leather cuffs and fasten them around my wrists, sometimes my ankles as well.  He doesn't connect them to each other, or to anything else; they are just there, substantially present, but not hindering me in any way.  He asks how much work i have left, or if I'm not working, tells me when to finish up.  He tells me where to go, when, and how to be.  I will work or continue what i was doing for some time.  The metal rings on the cuffs make small noises and I am acutely aware of the leather around the bones of my wrists and maybe the tendons in my ankles.  I would have expected that my concentration would fly out the window in these cases, but instead i feel myself settle a bit, i think my heartrate slows and a small little smile forms at the corners of my mouth.  Remarkably I am able to focus quite well on my work until it is time to get up. 

Last night, my only question was "do you want my hair up or left down?"  It can get in the way, and I never know what he has planned.  I go through my nighttime routine, braid my hair back, and undress, the cuffs not interfering at all, but magically keeping me calm and centered. 

He has shown me how he wants me to wait for him: there are two positions he has given me, most often he leaves it to me to choose.  I usually choose the one I think he likes more, but last night I chose the other, for some reason,  it just felt like I should.  I always face away from the door, away from him entering.  This time I was kneeling tall, sitting on my heels, my knees well apart and my hands on my thighs. I can hear him approach, his hand goes immediately between my legs, cupping, grabbing, parting the lips and probing, pinching.  I can't be loud now, but i moan quietly and arch back into him, the arch only impaling me further and easing his access that much more.

From behind he pulls my arms up, my hands behind my back, cuffs now attached there.  His hand pulling my braid keeps me fully arched back into him, relying on him to keep upright.  The other hand moves to my waist, my stomach, the flared areas over my ribs, just under my breasts.  His whole hand makes contact, open and firm, touching and feeling for his sensation and intentions, not my pleasure.  But the position, the insistence of his touch, the whispers in my ear, his control of me, all move me instantly deeper into another headspace, warm and serene. 

My breathing slows and my mental focus is entirely on the points of connection between the two of us, listening for his next direction.  My nipples ache in their hardness, my cunt twitches and throbs, my skin tingles; all of me actively waiting, seeking.  Then I am pushed forward, onto my face, and both his hands are free. The calm and focused headspace gives way to a more urgent, reactive one.

The pain comes to my nipples first, pinched wickedly, then clamped, my neck and back bitten hard.  I am now tightly spread open and secured.  More biting, more pinching.  His cock ramming my face and my throat; rubbing his smell over me.  And the probing and the - what - the fingers and the tongue and the teeth, the pure stimulation, faster and harder, too fast, and too hard, i can't take this, but i can't move..........


I tried to explain, later, where my mind goes in all this.  I'm not sure i can explain it.  He asked if it works as well as the impact play.  We are both starting to learn how the rougher play can calm and center me, how it resets me and re-connects us, how it creates a stronger bond between us each time.  This is much different, but I absolutely feel more focused on him, more centered and still, cared for and of use, our connection strengthened. 

Sunday, November 28, 2010


I talked with my husband about the fact that I was so wound up the last few weeks and that I thought I needed to stop and just wait.  At first it came out sounding like "wait for you to catch up to me," which didn't sound right.  What I had meant was that I need to stop and wait to hear him before I go off and just assume or decide or do on my own.  I had been making decisions and pushing an agenda and striking out on my own quite a lot.   

Most people don't like to wait, I know I don't - it takes that active control of myself I had talked about.  And it is very much different to how I am used to being and doing.  So then there was an internal conversation with myself about whether and when he would want me waiting for him?  Waiting on him?  Big difference between the two - interesting that. 

[Yes - I see the obvious -  that my mind immediately took off on its own to figure it out, make some decisions for myself.  Not waiting!  I actually talked to him about that too.  At this point, I can work on controlling my words and my actions.  I'm not sure that I can or should try to direct what thoughts come to me or not, only how I act on them.  What I choose to do or say, and what I leave unsaid and not done, will influence what I learn and where my thoughts go from there.]
I thought about the various ways the word waiting is used.  The meaning I had been thinking of was the obvious "stop what you're doing and not act until some other thing comes to pass", or to just "bide your time."   But then there is the idea of ladies-in-waiting, waiters, waiting on people, as in serving them.  I suppose the point is that they do have to be still and bide their time, not act until requested or directed to do so.  Interesting that waiting in this context is synonymous with serving. 

It also occurred to me that there are major world religions which have a very large component of waiting - waiting for the fullfillment of a covenant, waiting for the second coming, etc...  So, waiting is having faith that the promise will be met.  But it is the structure of the relationship too.  And it is on some levels both the reason and the means by which honor is shown. 

Then I remembered a book I have always liked - a major theme of the story is that waiting is praying.  In this case, the characters were waiting to be able to be together, but there were tasks they each had to accomplish first, things they needed to learn - pretty cliche story line really.  The waiting as praying in this context though brought everything to an individual, personal relationship level.  It was not about a religion dictating a heirarchy of subservience.  It was about each person's faith and beliefs guiding his or her decisions and that being lived through their relationships. 

This is all awfully big and deep stuff considering it started with me thinking about much smaller, day-to-day stuff.  It's important too though.    But there are the fun aspects to waiting, or there are the more overtly  D/s uses of waiting.  Other people have written about it much better than I could. Mouse talks about being made to "be still".  Jz talked about the challenge of being open and vulnerable while waiting (here).  And Aisha wrote about the very erotic aspects of being made to wait (here).

Waiting, for me, means that I have to be quiet and still - I have to listen.  Acting means deciding and often means assuming something about what he wants.  By no means do we, or could we, live our lives if I waited for him to make every decision for me.  Life would come to a standstill and he would never even consider that: too much work for him, and a total waste of me.  But there are many opportunities for me to honor  him and serve him by waiting. 

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

A little less conversation.....

.... a little more action, please.

People - particularly of the submissive persuasion - write about events or times when they feel themselves slipping further into their submission.  It's maybe after a big scene or some big connection that triggers a new understanding or closeness, and it seems to generate lots of very nice feelings and inner contentment.  I've had some moments like that too, and it is lovely; it makes me feel  like i can't get close enough to him and that i want to do whatever i can for him. 

This wasn't one of those times. 

This was me being shown that it is what he has decided it is, no matter how much or what i think, analyze, parse, dissect or try to figure it out to be.  I can wonder about me and the twists and turns of my psyche, but I need to separate that now from trying to figure out him and his motivations. 

He told me simply, as i repeatedly tried to reason it all out with him, that those were the rules and he wanted me to follow them, period, not play games about it in any way.  And a friend pointed out to me, "What ever the reason is though, it is his reason and you accept it, no questions, we call that submission."

It's not the warm fuzzy kind of slip further into submission.  In fact, it's humbling and uncomfortable. 

Sunday, November 21, 2010

rules and testing

I am a rule follower.  It is who I am, from as long as I can remember. My husband has made some rules for me over the past year. Some have to do with the way he likes me to be (eg., shaved), some have to do with things he just likes (eg., having his coffee made for him), and some have to do with how I should really be anyhow (eg., focused on him when he's talking to me, doing my work at work, etc.). I don't break these rules, at least not willfully. Occasionally I have just forgotten something, or run out of time, sometimes I struggle with making the necessary focus happen; but, I understand these rules, they make sense, the reason they are important to him make sense to me. I don't want to break them, so I don't.

There are some rules that I feel differently about. These rules have to do with my body and especially my orgasms being his to control. These rules have not felt the same to me. The have felt artificial and contrived and at times just silly. I think at some level I believed he made these rules just because that's "what D/s people do."  I went along with these rules, but I never felt they were important - especially to him. I sort of giggled, and sometimes rolled my eyes and went along - but it felt like play-acting, not real.

The other day, I did break one of *those* rules. I was, as mouse would say, very squirmy, and he was out of town for several days.  I'm supposed to ask, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to reach him at that moment, so I went ahead on my own. I completely willfully and knowingly disobeyed him. 

There were a lot of thoughts that went thru my head at the time:
     It was the first time, only time, I had broken a rule outright.
     A girl should get a free pass or two with a record like that, right?
     How lame am I that this is my big rebellion?   
     I can't reach him to ask, but  I really need to get un-squirmy so I can focus on other stuff.
     Is this rule as real, are these particular rules really important to him?
     Does he actually think of my body and especially my sexual being as his to control, or is that play?
     I also wanted to know what he would do if I really disobeyed him. I think maybe I *needed* to know the answer to that.
     I absolutely recognized  that this was a new level of testing: was he really serious about all this.  It's easy to talk, easy to make rules, will he back that up?
I also recognized that a part of what has kept me obedient so far is a fear that if i challenged him at all, he would just throw up his hands and walk away.  On some level I needed to know that wouldn't happen.  This is a big one in fact.  It's not the only reason I do what he asks, but it's there, it's part of the whole thing.  And I know that, as small a part as it is, it is poison and is keeping me from really trusting and really committing. 

I told him about it when he got home of course, I knew I would when I did it. And he knew exactly why I had done it.   

And now, a few days later, some questions are answered.  He is serious about all the rules he makes. 
He will punish me.  He won't spank me or use pain to punish me (I knew that one already - otherwise I would have been breaking rules a lot more often). 

I don't think the doubt is fully removed though.  I know that I will (already do) worry that there will be a time that he just feels like I am too much trouble or this is all silly and want to stop.   I know testing this way is juvenile and cliche and frankly, disrespectful to him.  I also know that I don't know of any other way to reassure myself.  Maybe it is an inevitability, a phase all relationships have to go through.   Maybe we have to test.  Are there relationships where there is just obedience, no pushing at the boundaries to see how strong they are?   Maybe me testing him is the thing that will push him that step too far.  (See how my mind can go in circles). 

I am sorry and punished and forgiven for the thing I did. But I don't feel sorrow or remorse for the real reason I did it, and I know this is a problem.  I think I should feel sorry and remorseful for this part of it all.  Is it a punishment that accomplishes that, or can it only come from me?  Since I haven't been punished, I also really don't feel forgiven, so things feel wrong between us still.  Except I haven't yet expressed regret for having done it.

Can I go to him and ask to be punished for this?  Is that what makes me sorry?  Or does that happen only once I feel the remorse on my own?    Actually, as I write this i think I'm beginning to see....  

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

what do words say

Many really, really smart people throught the ages have written about the power of words. I'm not that kind of smart (or eloquent), but I have been knocked over by the power of certain words since this whole thing  started. 

I read a fair bit about ttwd; it is the way i had and have to learn about it.  In all this reading, it is hard to miss certain words and the significance attached to them.  One becomes immersed in the culture, particularly in the language, and the meanings of special words go far beyond their standard usage. 

My husband reads very little in this way, so he isn't familiar with this alternate vocabulary, or at least not with the depth of context attached to some of the words.  This does make communication a bit precarious at times.  I have a difficult time confessing many of my desires in any case, and single words or phrases that convey the weight and the meaning of my thoughts would make it easier for me.  On the other hand, it often forces me to be very expicit about my wants and needs and feelings.  Objectively of course, that is a good thing, but it is much, much harder for me.

The lack of common vocabulary also created disconnects for us at times.  Things i have brought to him as intriguing, or desirous have very negative connotations for him.  His understanding of the word "submission" or "submissive" in particular led him initially to reject the concepts I was trying to advocate.  Again, i have had to work to clarify and express what i meant - my conceptualization of ideas like "submission", "control," "containment" - what exactly did i mean by those? - not just a swirl of nebulous ideas garnered "out there" - what did *I* mean?  Once we gained common ground, we could move forward together.  I can see now that the work i do to understand what I mean, both to be able to explain to him and to know for myself,  is very important; but, at the time, I would really rather skip around that part.

Some have taken on meaning for us, we have given them our own context.  "Sir" for example: he is a boss, sometimes people call him Sir, sometimes out of respect, sometimes as a cheap attempt at ingratiation, but it has that context for him.  For me, it is a view of him that takes hold of me sometimes, but which i am shy to express out loud.  We are both finding that it carries the right weight and meaning if we reserve it for very limited contexts, alone and intense times.  Then we both understand, and we both like it. 

I am the one who spent 6 months learning and living as submissive to my husband before i could bear to type that word out in reference to myself.   It is a very powerful word, and has been a very powerful way to live. 
There are more words out there that aren't part of us at this point, but which nonetheless invoke a profound response in me: girl, slave, Master, owned, Mine.  I will leave it at that for now.

Monday, November 15, 2010

more, more, more....

No one can run at full tilt all the time, but there are periods of time when life is really busy on all fronts.  Sometimes for me these are just tedious and draining and just have to be gotten through.  But other times, the business is challenging and productive and invigorating.  It feels good to be "on".  The accomplishments feed my overall energy rather than draining it, and I am able to sustain doing even more.  The energy and efficiency in one area of my life spill over into other areas and they become more manageable.  Of course there are limits: there are only 24 hours in a day, and I do have to sleep or the whole system crashes. 

Similar things happen between him and me at times.  Sometimes things do feel too easy, sometimes i want him to ask things of me that are hard for me, to push me.  I want to plunge in and race ahead.  Maybe I'm looking for that same "on" feeling I get in other areas of my life.  Maybe I want to prove myself to him, maybe earn that 'good girl.'  Maybe it's just because I'm needy and greedy and want more: more attention, more containment, more control, more him...

There are times when the need is a need - not like air, food, water, etc.; but for balance and even-keeled-ness it is definitely more necessity than luxury.  The big thing i am seeing is that when life is not so smooth, if I am low, or the tasks i need to get done are pressing and tedious and just plain overwhelming, that his letting up on the control doesn't work.  I know he feels uncomfortable adding to my responsibilities when I am already stressed.  But what he sees as helpful reprieve, I feel as one more task or area I have failed at or not managed well.  It weighs on me and I feel let go of and adrift. 

So, maybe i am needy or greedy, since all the time I want more, more, more....  Maybe this is the natural order for these types of relationships, maybe it works out for him, easier for him to exert control if I'm a state of wanting rather than not wanting. 

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

to remember

"...... if you're going to submit to me, you need to listen to me and believe me."

Sunday, November 7, 2010

a moment and a realization

I have come to accept that in this new 'normal' - my state-of-mind and emotions - the highs are higher and the lows are lower, and that this is somehow absolutely right and necessary and worthwhile.  When it is good, the affection, the need to be melded to him, the desire to do and care for him, and the feelings of being cared for and loved and surrounded in him are all insanely intense.  When I crash, the confusion, doubt and despair are irrational yet completely overwhelming.  [Interesting that i don't consider the insanely high feelings to be irrational - something to wonder about another day I guess].  Now I am seeing that other fundamental sensations and perceptions are no longer nearly as straightforward either. 

Yesterday I was teetering on the brink of a tumble into a bad state-of-mind.  I was fighting the doubts and trying to look objectively at why he might be seeming withdrawn and a bit distant the past few days.  He has always had bouts of pulling back for a few days; it's not often, and it is subtle enough that no one but me notices.  He is really, really good at maintaining a very even outward appearance.  But these times have always made me nervous, always made me wonder what I had done or missed doing.  Likely, I am just too sensitive to something that is related more to lack of sleep or things at work than to me anyhow.  But I have come to accept and expect and now even rely on a level of control from him, and when it is withdrawn, I flounder a bit.  His control isn't exerted in big, obvious or loud ways.  It is quiet and just betwen us: he notices things and makes it clear that he does.  That is enough.  And when it isn't there, I don't brat or push at the boundaries, I start to doubt and drift. 

Yesterday, as I was feeling adrift, he interrupted me folding laundry.  I didn't think I was interested, too much doubt and resentment and just plain pissiness.  I started out trying to rebuff him then just going along because I had to. Very quickly he changed my mind, or at least he changed my body and the mind had no choice but to follow.  My body responded as it always does now, and it needed this.  It climbed very high, very quickly and when it fell over the edge, it just kept going.  This should have had me, had my body, quiet and content for a good while.  But it didn't. 

I think it amuses my husband that I am needy again after such intense satisfaction.  I worry though about what he must really think about me.  I worry he finds me too focused on sex, too needy, not the kind of woman I should be, I worry he is exasperated or even offended.  And I wonder why I am this way.  I wonder why my body suddenly seems to have a mind of it's own, disconnected from my emotions and thoughts and what I think I should want and need.

What I realized is that my body may seem more disconnected, but may in fact be more in tune with my state-of-mind than I realize.  The physical release is one thing.  But I also crave and maybe (probably) need the more abstract levels of his influence and control.  Missing the sense of him containing me or the manifestations of that connection I think leaves my body right back in it's needy state.  It's one more thing about this whole thing that is unexpected and just more complex than ever before.