Better than orgasms

Don't get me wrong, i love orgasms.

We had a day this week with the house to ourselves.  We had work to do, but also some room in our heads and time free for us to focus on each other.

He ramped up my body - calling me in to kneel under his desk and suck him while he worked, pinching and biting, fingering me then sending me off on my way, tugging on the hair he's having me re-grow, whispering in my ear about the things he's been planning, how distracted he's been with plans to take my ass....

Bigger things to ramp up my mind....sending me off to shower then stepping in to piss on me; having me cook his lunch, me in just an apron, him sitting and watching, working but watching; having me kneel, wait, present....  There really is something to the waiting in position, my time and my comfort irrelevant, just his time and his desire.  Sometimes i have to fight the resentment and the impatience. Other times i slide right into the submission, peaceful, contented, focused on him.  This was beyond that even - it felt like going home, like exhaling.

He had me serve him, pleasuring him exactly as he directed, fetching the things he wanted... serving as his toy as he played with my body and the things i'd brought him, clamps, crop, cuffs, plug.  There were growls and stern commands, corrections, and 'good girl's'.   He even let me choose one thing from his toybox. There were orgasms too, several, which for me is unheard of.

But better than orgasms,  i really love getting to the point that i am completely his, entirely centered on what he's doing to me, what he wants from me, letting my body be entirely his and my mind staying out of the way.  I love watching his face as he revels in using me any which way he wants.  I love seeing him let go and give rein to the man who wants to be served, and to the man who likes to hurt me, and to the man who wants to play with his toy, all with abandon.  I love being able to give him that and i love that being my universe for that moment in time.

the vortex and the hat

Our new reality is that we have far, far less privacy, less time alone together, and more worry and more anxiety.  More of our decisions, by their nature, need to be made together, as parents, more of our established roles are upended by necessity.  I think we are doing ok - but it wears on each of us.

Opportunities to connect in even quiet, simple ways are fewer.  Intimacy is both harder to come by and much more important. Chances to really re-establish ourselves, to be intensely ourselves, are very few.

Enter the vortex.  And school districts with seemingly random school cancellation policies.  And a highly anticipated window of opportunity lost.

And the hat.  A friend stopped by, wearing a hat, which was much too large for him.  So he gave it to my husband (odd - I know - i didn't understand either).  And now my husband has been wearing it - for days - non-stop.  It is too big for him too, it is the f@#%ing ugliest hat ever.  I swear there was a cartoon when i was little with a character who wore a hat that covered half his face all the time - it looks like that.  And he won't take it off.  I'm sure that in writing this i'm guaranteeing that he never will.

But i'm having a very hard time taking him seriously in the damn hat.  Not that we are deathly serious around here all the time anyhow - but this just triggers the mental equivalent of an eye roll, 'whatever', and 'how old are you exactly?' all in one.

Realistically - and stupid hats aside - the times that he needs to be able to count on me to do all the things i need to do and to stay on track and even keel mentally without his needing to manage me also, coincide too often with the times that it is getting harder and harder to do that.

grateful

I don't do this enough - at least not explicitly...

I don't need all the ranting in the media, social and otherwise, about the movie i haven't seen from the books i haven't read about how they glorify and romaticize abuse and manipulation to think that they probably do.  Seeing the popular culture world through the eyes of a parent of teenage boys lights up the messages my sons get from every direction about girls and sex and power and all of it.  This movie isn't tipping the scale of healthy vs. unhealthy messages; the scale broke long ago.

Having been the victim (survivor) of a guy who took what he wanted because he wanted it even though there was no possible way to construe it as freely given, I'm acutely aware of  the complicated, maddening, and overwhelming feeling of being powerless, and all the factors that play into that feeling.  It left me with - among other things - a real and visceral contempt for the unfairness of men/boys getting what they want simply because they are male and I'm not.  I was awfully young when this happened, and i think - by the grace of God, or fate, or dumb luck, I managed to navigate the minefield of growing up without further tragedy.

All of this is to say that abuse of women/girls is a very real, very multi-faceted problem, and one that has been very personal for me.  And my husband has always been fully aware of all of this.

So - of course - we would end up in a power exchange dynamic in which i've ceded my power to him voluntarily, in which he takes what he wants whenever he wants it, and which has a strong component of him beating me whenever he wants.  [I know - context, context, context, and also consent]

Last week, he took me on, he hit, slapped, pushed, demeaned, hurt me, pinned me down, and took what he wanted, over my protests, over my yelling and sobbing and my rage.  Anyone with an ounce of sense would have seen this as abuse, as rape, as a very dangerous situation.   Anyone hearing me defend him, defend this should believe i'm completely lost and very much in need of rescuing.  I'm not being glib, - i grew up in a home in which the abuse was pervasive and apparent - but not one friend or relative ever asked much less tried to intervene on her behalf.  (My husband knows this too)


Here's the grateful part....

Knowing all of my history, knowing how he wants his sons to see and behave in these areas, being a man who deeply respects me and women and in fact people in general, who doesn't use violence and intimidation to get what he wants in any part of his life.... he takes my power, he takes what he wants of me, and he uses violence and intimidation and any other tricks he wants as well.  And - to be perfectly crude - he gets off on it all.

I marvel sometimes at what a strong person, and what a huge amount of self confidence, and integrity, and degree of trust in me and in our relationship he has to have to be able to do this - for me. These have to be such complex and deeply conflicting forces to be reconciled in one man.  I am so grateful he can and does.

  

to the rage

Sometimes i kinda wish i had irl friends to discuss ttwd with.  Of course - i don't actually discuss my sex life with my irl friends - never have - so i'm not sure it would make any difference...  But.... i wonder, and then i realize that it doesn't really matter what anyone else does or feels.  What he wants - that's what matters.....

I sometimes get pissy - cranky, irritable, overwhelmed, stressed, take your pick.  Most of the time i work it out and get over myself.  Sometimes i don't and it makes me really want pain and sex - to be blunt. But sometimes i get so irritable that i can't stand anyone else, even him. And i can't hide it or fake it.  This is the wondering, wish i could talk to other people part - in writing, it seems this doesn't happen to other subs/slaves, or it isn't tolerated so it just doesn't happen, or everyone else has figured out how to keep themselves from getting to this point, or something that i'm missing.

But i am, at those times, so very much not what i'm supposed to be, not what i want to be, not what i've agreed to be, not really who i truly am even.  This hit me hard the other day.  I didn't want to have to listen to him, or answer him, or have him touch me, or certainly not have him hurt me or arouse me. I wanted to be so very unto just myself.  I didn't want to let him in or even acknowledge he was at the door.  And that made me so mad at myself - which of course made the pissyness that much worse.

But he forced the issue.  I balked, but i have enough sense not to outright disobey.  And - lest this sound like fiction - he has enough sense of me to know exactly where i am in my head and what he should do or not do, no matter what he can or may do or not do.  Which of course is why i don't disobey, not because he can force or punish, but because i've learned that what he will do is right for me ultimately.

We don't do role playing. But there are different personalities that come out at different times, like all of life i guess.  This was the stfu, do what i say, don't even think about not complying, personality. He moved me, and hit me, slapped me, fucked me, It hurt - not in the, "Ooh this is going somewhere nice," way. Not in the - he wants this so i will offer it to him - way.   But in the - made me fight back and kick and scream in earnest - way.

I tried to keep up at first, but that wasn't what he was after.  He quickly pushed me to mad, then taunted me because my mad was completely useless, didn't matter a bit.  Then he upped the pain, hitting places and in ways he doesn't usually.  Suddenly i was enraged.  I was focused only on trying to get away, and when that didn't work, i focused on fighting him.  But he thwarted me - i'm strong, but he's a lot bigger than i am.  Which enraged me more.  Then more pain, and more being tossed around, and being used and ignored at the same time.  I was completely lost in the rage, there was no consciousness, no decision making - like subspace - but very, very loud.

Then he was done.  It wasn't for me, or about me.  He wanted what he wanted and didn't want to have to dance around to get it.  Which, as it turns out, was perfect, because my rage was fueled partly by my own anger at myself for all the things in my head, for my own failings, for my behavior and attitude.  I needed him to not dance for me, i needed him to treat me as exactly what i am.  His.

In the end, even if it wasn't for me or about me, being His is exactly right for me.

Kate Upton

We collapsed together last night and the only thing that seemed tolerable to watch was a fairly silly movie with Cameron Diaz and Kate Upton.

As a side note - it's always interesting watching a movie about a cheating man, with my husband.....

Kate didn't make an appearance until well into the movie, but when she did - my husband had some comments - rather appreciative, pointed comments.

You should know that my husband never comments on other women's appearance, not positively or negatively, not in real life, not actresses or models or even swimsuit edition specials.  To the point that I've tried for years to figure out what his 'type' is and I've never had any idea.

But he did when Kate appeared, "blah, blah,......every guys ideal, of course I'd do her, wouldn't you? look at her curves, her tits......"

Cameron Diaz had been on the screen for an hour - no comments. So I asked, "She's  gorgeous - why no comments about her?  Since you're breaking your no comments tradition"

Turns out he doesn't think she's especially good looking.  And he told me he finds it very interesting that I do - that I find the woman attractive who is less like me physically, but i'm not especially drawn to the one who is more my body type.  Just to be clear, "more my body type" in only the most hypothetical of ways - in that I have always had curves, not in the 'I resemble her at all' way.

Guess I know now what his type is.

bear hunt.....

Mountains, rivers, mud, tall grass, whatever comes along.....  can't go over it, can't go around it,  have to just go through it.  That's what we are doing because it's the only option - just going through it.

Which makes for fairly uninteresting blogging really.  This isn't a parenting blog, or a mental health blog, or even an inspirational, how to live in the moment and be at peace blog.  All of which are really what are consuming our time, energy and focus these days.

But it's the blog I have.

I'm learning that our foundation is so much stronger than i had imagined.

I'm learning that a dominant man needs to be the guy who rises to the occasion, who makes decisions and executes on them, who takes responsibility for the ones in his care, who weighs all the information and then chooses a course. Or at least my husband needs to be that guy.

I'm learning that he also, at the same time and along with all of that decisive responsibility taking, feels the worry and concern and heartbreak and fear.

I'm learning how to be strong and competent and necessary and also submissive and vulnerable and open.  It's different from switching back and forth, it's a harder fit to be all of these, all at once, across contexts, in really hard contexts.  For me in any case.

I'm learning that his owning me is really good - for both of us.  In ways that weren't true before, I can't hide from him, and he has the means to really see me. He also has the means to be seen.

I'm learning that the language of our bodies, of dominance and submission, of sadism and masochism, and control and pain, and sex, is loud and fluent and powerful.

I've learned - again- that the opening he takes, and i have to allow, in order for him to fist me also opens the rest of me to him.

I've learned - again - that there is joy in giving him my body to use - even if that joy looks like bruises and tears and sobbing and snot and cum......

I'm learning that, even though happiness and lightheartedness are not predominant in our life and our household right now, we do find them in moments between us. And, hopefully, we can start to figure out how to bring them out more and more, into our family, our home and our larger lives.