Sunday, June 30, 2013


When my son found this blog a few months ago I had to explain to him, in a way that would hopefully discourage him from continuing to look for it, what exactly i was blogging about.  So i told him that his dad and i follow some blogs and contribute sometimes to a blog about marriages and relationships and the work it takes to keep them on solid ground, blah blah blah.... I tried to make it sound dreadfully boring to a 16 year old boy.  I think i probably succeeded.

My description would have turned me off - i wouldn't have bothered to follow up.

But - it is the truth  - above all else this blog is about our marriage, our relationship, our dynamic and the work it takes to keep us on solid ground.  Beyond solid ground actually - but one has to start with the solid footing before the rest can be built.

My last post promised lots of deeper thoughts about my disappointing him, about making mistakes and failing.  Then an anonymous comment went off in a different direction: didn't i need to get a grip? didn't i really just need therapy to work through my obviously abusive relationship?  Then Sir J  wrote about suffering....  Now - I actually believe that life is pain and life is suffering (to quote both Princess Bride and Siddhartha), and I believe that we suffer in many ways precisely because we care, because we love.

But it dawned on me that i don't really need any deeper thoughts.   As hokey as it sounds in my profile - and it does - i keep wanting to change it - but it is just the flat out truth, "D/s was a new idea to explore. It has been woven throughout our lives together now. This has made our marriage stronger and our life more joyful."

The sum total of the entirety of our interactions is just that - a strong and very joy filled marriage.  We use unconventional relationship tools to say the least.  And it is work and it ought to be.

And i fail, and the worst kind of failing is not the failure - it's when i know i actually could have tried harder or differently and i didn't.  But the only recourse is to get up and try again.

And he fails too - and sometimes that makes me angry, sometimes it worries me or frightens me, sometimes it makes me feel very protective of him.  Perhaps there is some level of slavehood i haven't reached yet, a level of trust wherein i don't see his human weaknesses any longer.  Somehow i don't think i'm gonna get there.

But what this slave does see is how incredibly hard he works to care for her, to  protect her, to meet her needs, to raise her up, to love her...

So this slave wants to try harder to care for him, to meet his needs, to protect him, to raise him up, to love him....

And after you put in all the parts, and shake them all about, and do the whole Hokey Pokey... That's what it's all about!

Thursday, June 27, 2013

not perfect

I'm not - and for that matter, neither is he.  I've learned to live with being less than perfect (this is where the sarcasm emoticon goes - someone needs to invent one of those - really).

But I have been disappointing myself - and him - lately.

Some of it is the cycles of life - demands and plans and projects and obligations all picking up at once - and what i thought i had a grip on - i now lie awake at night worried that i don't.  I need to keep slogging through when more than ever i really want to take a big mental vacation from life.

I started to write, "But that's real life, and i want to write about how i'm a not so perfect slave..."  Except that part is our real life too - it's gone way past trying it on for size, it is here and it is just as real as all the rest.

And as i write this - it becomes obvious that there is a lot to think about here, a lot that i am realizing as i look at how i feel about letting him and myself down.   And at the same time, i am painfully aware of the fact that i need to get out the door and attack some of the projects and obligations because they don't go away if i ignore them.

It is my responsibility to ask for the daily caning we are doing this month.  Often I don't need to ask, he comes to me to tell me it's time.  But some days i need to ask, and yesterday I forgot.  And, as he pointed out this morning, i had come to him for other attention yesterday, which he nicely obliged, but i neglected this expectation.  On top of all that, I also made myself a lunch and didn't ask him what he would like, and when, for lunch.  That's not a rule - just something i do.  And i didn't.

I am not a perfect slave, my every thought is not of him first.  But yesterday was far from where i want to be, far from where i try to be.

And this is where i need to leave it for now - i'm honestly not sure whether hashing it all out in my mind or just starting over again today and trying to have a different day is going to be better.  But the clock in the corner of my computer says i'm going with the latter this time.

Saturday, June 22, 2013


This post is pure wondering, not knowing, maybe even just exploring how much I don't know.

Our church is gearing up for the Pride Parade.  Here that means decorating, planning a celebration and organizing marchers, NOT protest signs and anti-gay rallies. I guess I feel a need to clarify, since some churches take such a different stance.  This in and of itself doesn't make me wonder:  I'm un-conflicted in my feelings about this topic, I am grateful for the faith community we've found, and my feelings about the "Christian-ness" of some Christian churches are unreserved.

My ignorance lies in the relationship between BDSM and Pride events.

I've read a little bit, and i know there is some common history, but I recognize that I am quite ignorant as to the roots of the Leather community and how BDSM communities grew out of? alongside? that movement.  Frankly, I don't know a lot about the BDSM community at all.

And that did make me wonder.

It is easy for me to be ignorant of the BDSM/kink community. I don't, strictly speaking, need to interact with it in any way.  My husband and I can carry on in the privacy of our home without any infringement on our lifestyle. In fact, we wouldn't share that aspect of ourselves with our kids or anyone else anyhow. Some combination of not wanting to share this side of ourselves and worry about being "found out" are why we haven't searched out local people or events.

And maybe that is part of the point.  We can hide and still do and be what we are.  Such is not the same at all if the aspect that makes your relationship different can't be hidden.  Your choice is to hide the relationship altogether, or be known.  If we were "out" we would possibly run into misunderstanding, disdain, contempt, morbid fascination.... but not the persecution, hatred, inequality, and lack of civil rights that being gay entails.

I know that historically there are connections or areas of overlap between the gay community and the kink community.  And i also know that each is a bigger picture unto itself.  For me to try to draw these parallels is a bit artificial and tenuous.  I have friends and family who are gay who i imagine would be surprised but amused to learn of our predilections, and others who would be horrified -  just as it would be among any of our friends and family.  and - likely there are those in the kink community who are quite homophobic.

So - no point, no conclusions - just something in life that made me wonder about other things.

Monday, June 17, 2013

real service

I'm feeling a little - i'm not sure what - worn down, overwhelmed, a little cynical, ok - probably a lot cynical.

The idea of D/s or M/s seems to include service, devotion, self-sacrifice.... on the part of the "s," to a greater or lesser degree.   For some it is a big element, for others less so than other aspects.

It has always struck me though that each side of the equation gets something out of it - like with pain, or obedience, or whatever other element of the dynamic.  'You hurt me, which you like and that feeds you, but having you hurt me turns me on and reaches me on some deeper level, which feeds me too.'  Win-Win.  'I serve you which looks like good for you/just plain work for me; but, really, i get off on serving, have a deep need to do it, it fulfills me on some level.'  So - really, Win-Win.

I think this is all well and good - the power really does have to be exchanged, the circle complete, the elements need to be ultimately in balance; or someone runs out of juice eventually.   There is give and take on both sides, titles and mythology aside; it is unsustainable otherwise. I know i couldn't carry on indefinitely if giving what he were asking of me didn't also feed me.  Mother nature knows this too - babies are so damn cute precisely to keep us rewarded and motivated to continue meeting their incessant demands.

I have always wondered at the service thing - partly because - in our time and place in life - i do a lot of work anyhow.  For that matter so does he.  There's just an awful lot that has to get accomplished, over and over and over again.  This makes us not the least bit unique.

Also - the facts of my childhood mean that anything that smacks remotely of, "drop what you're doing and come see to my needs, NOW!" is an enormous kick in the gut for me.  I guess trigger is the word, but it instantly raises my hackles and makes me anything but sweet or submissive.  Even if it's couched with a please and thank you.  I know this about myself, i work on it constantly, it made me very seriously consider myself unfit to have children (the whole incessant demands thing).

My husband has - to his credit and my amazement - played me very skillfully.  He often gets me to respond to demands, frequently i even respond well, and i almost always respond civilly.  It has been good for us, it has been a good thing for me to learn.  D/s or not, I think marriages in which the parties spend more time trying to figure out how to help/serve/meet the needs of the other party are far stronger and more joyous than those spent keeping score to make sure no one does more 'work' than the other person.

There is a lot of perspective to be had though: for example, watch a spouse or adult child care for a person with dementia: incessant demands, incessant work, the caregiver's life put aside, all give, no reward, no balancing out of the equation, no understanding and often anger and abuse from the person being cared for, and judgement and second guessing from all kinds of people who have no idea.

My service, especially my balanced out, give and take, 'I ultimately get something out of it too' service is nothing like the devotion, service, and self-sacrifice many people live.  Sometimes, when the perspective has slapped me in the face, and i'm particularly cynical, it feels like nothing more than a stupid game we are playing.  And really - we don't use those terms - it isn't called "service" - it's just - he asks and i think it's probably ok to do.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

to what end?

Which sounds like asking "why?"  but isn't exactly the same

In this case - why play?   Why have intense sessions like my last post describes?

I didn't have a deep, unrelenting, pent-up need to get my rocks off at 9 AM on a random Friday morning.  Neither did he as far as i know.  It wasn't a long planned date.  It wasn't because i had asked - i would have asked for a long slow spanking if i were asking - and he's husband and master - not a service top, so it doesn't work that way anyhow.

In this case - we had this intense session on a random Friday morning - because he wanted to. Why he wanted to - i have no idea - and i won't ask.

To what end in this case though?

For most of the day, even after writing about it, my feelings were fairly unfocused about it: it was what he wanted, it was an unexpected bonus time together, it was intense which is nice, and orgasms are always good too.

But the impact of it didn't really hit me until later.

We took a walk that evening - yes - we are that couple, walking the dog in the evening, talking, hand-in-hand.

We don't often discuss play times, but sometimes he brings it up, and as we walked, he did.

He said again that he knew the things he had done to me that morning had been hard for me, but that he really liked playing with me that way, he liked being able to do that.

And that was the impact.  It was something he wanted and i had been able to give that to him. And that felt really, really good.

Beyond that in fact - it felt like settling a little further into what is meant to be, or peeling away another layer of what's not.

Friday, June 7, 2013

thinking here so i can stop over-thinking in the wrong time/ wrong place....

This morning, he pulled off my shorts and sat my naked ass on the kitchen counter, pulled up my shirt, and spread my legs.  He rummaged through the drawers and came back with skewers, rubber bands, and a knife. With my nipples clamped between the skewers, he traced the paring knife over my breasts, my belly, my thighs, my lips, my clit.

He told me he was making me uncomfortable, in lots of ways- and it surprised me in that moment how much he was right, how well he knew exactly where to push me:  i was exposed, in front of an open window, being intimate, not just intimate, but being kinky, being an object of kink; sitting bare-assed in the kitchen, on a counter, yuk (and cold); being taken and used suddenly, out of the blue, wrong time, wrong place; being made to watch the knife tip and the blade trace lines across my skin, nerve wracking, and across my belly which i loath and never want him to touch; yes - his tounge in my ear, not to make me giggle and squirm, but to torment; the physically uncomfortable, overwhelming, painful sensations from my nipples and my skin; and working to remain open to him throughout any and all of it.

He doesn't need big plans or grand gestures or cliches from kinky porn get in my head - he knows exactly where my mental buttons are. Lucky him that some of my buttons are so easy.  And i start thinking that i should toughen up, not be so easy, not be such a mental weenie. What's wrong with me?  Maybe i'm not enough for him.  Then i hear "good girl, i know this is hard, but i like to play with you."   Which makes me think maybe it's ok to be how i am, maybe he's happy.

He sends me to the bedroom and his demeanor changes.  Suddenly very rough, abrupt, he reminds me of my words, then lays in.  I'm not caught up, can't catch up.  I beg, and move away, and sob, and soon enough my mind goes the wrong direction.  I ask him what i've done wrong.  He stops just long enough to look me in the eyes and tell me i've done nothing wrong, he's doing this because it's what he wants to do.  Then he's back at it.

Later, afterwards, he reminds me that he wants me - in those moments - to not think, to not wonder what he wants from me, or try to reason things out, he wants me to just follow and accept, to trust that he will tell me or show me whatever i need to know.

I don't know why my mind goes where it goes in those cases, but he doesn't want it to.  I'm hoping that writing it out here will purge it and let me move on next time.

Sunday, June 2, 2013


I've been given to understand that if i want something, I should ask for it, nicely, but i should ask.

It has been suggested, for example, that if i want or feel i need a caning, i should bring the cane to him, kneel, present the cane, and ask sweetly for him to use it.

It took me a few years to get over the feeling that if i asked for things, somehow that was the same as manipulating him into giving them to me - i'm a little slow when it comes to simple, obvious kinds of things.  But i finally got it.

I am better than i used to be, but still working on "nicely" - i too easily fall into hinting, complaining, even snarking - simple and direct is very hard for me.  I think that what is really missing though is "with humility."

I'm not really an arrogant person. (Can't you just feel the humble right there?)

I am someone who has a lot of trouble asking for and accepting help - in any context, but certainly throughout our marriage.  It is humbling to say "I need this thing from you, I'm unable to provide it for myself and i am asking you for it."  It can be humiliating - but that's a different flavor saved for a different situation.  

I'm required to ask permission to get into bed with him.  I still - after several years - find it difficult to do this gracefully.  I have assumed it's because it's a bit contrived: asking permission for something that i can do perfectly well on my own.  I'm beginning to see that the point has more to do with me finding that humility, or not finding it in this case.

Last night i was able to bring myself to ask for a spanking - no silliness or whining, just simple asking.  The thing about asking - especially when it was hard to do, and you've done it nicely - is that they can still say no.
(He is right, that's a loud activity, I'm pretty loud about it, and the not-so-little people who live with us are awake later than we are these days)

Without bargaining or complaining, i then asked if we could re-instate the caning each day for a month.

It was difficult at the time (the end of the month especially), but it was very good for me, very good for us, and i think it would be good for me again.

To this he said yes.  And i am grateful.

Saturday, June 1, 2013


Well -ok - not in the true sense of the word....

Most of the time I can control myself.  For most everything i can maintain position, work through it, or at least limit my movements.

But when he holds my hair hard with one hand and the side of my head with the other, lays his body over mine to pin down my arms, throws his leg over mine to pin my legs, turns my head to the side...

Then sticks his tongue in my ear, and blows -

I scream, i panic, i buck and fight and elbow and kick.

It's a wrestling match i will never win

but -

It's the one thing i really just can't stand.

I can't work through it, or control myself, or lie still.

I hate it!