Deadlines

I really don’t do very well with deadlines, I’ve discovered. I think I figured out what I lost between the first few blog posts and now: Back when I started writing, it was when I felt like it, when inspiration struck, rather than on a schedule. Now, I have to post twice a week, on Mondays and Fridays. I’m very lucky that with as many times as I’ve been late the last few weeks that I haven’t been punished.

Sir and I were talking about this blog the other night, and he told me to take the weekend to consider whether or not I want to continue writing. And the fact of the matter is, I do, but I don’t think I can do it if it’s not on my terms.

At least I’m able to choose which aspects of my relationship with Sir to write about, but in some ways it might be easier if instead of controlling when I post, Sir makes suggestions about what to post. But maybe we’ll get to that.

There’s so much more that I want to write about as far as my relationship with Sir. I want to write more about our past, how we got together, how our relationship has evolved and continues to evolve.

For example, I’ve stated before that we signed our contract at the end of April. Nearly eight months have gone by since then, and I’ve been craving more and more control, even as I’ve been fighting against it. It’s hard submitting to someone, especially when a person has trust issues, like I do. But I want to, so badly. It feels amazing when I confide in Sir and he simply holds me in his arms and accepts that piece of me. It’s just that sometimes I think that maybe there’s a part of me that Sir doesn’t want, and so I fight against sharing it with him. I also tend to second-guess myself and analyze myself on a micro level before I can even think about sharing my thoughts.

But I still want the control. So we’re revising the contract to cover that. One of the things that I want and need is the structure of some kind of schedule. I have a tendency to waste time and procrastinate. I’m also kind of a disorganized person, though I’ve gotten better since I’ve been with Sir. I keep a pretty clean house, for the most part. We just had that party here a couple nights ago, and I could have this house company ready in about 15 minutes. Though I’d probably have to apologize for the basket of clean clothes in the living room… nah. I don’t see any reason to apologize for that, because it signals that I’m cleaning.

Anyway, so a couple times now Sir and I have tried to set a schedule, but my work schedule is sporadic while his sucks too many hours out of the day. I think I’ve come up with a loose solution, since I’m more aware of what my schedule might look like, but we’ll see.

One of the other things that I proposed was a new level of protocol. If you look at my contract, you’ll see that I have three levels of protocol (more or less): basic, bedroom, and collar. The strictest rules are when I’m wearing my collar. A few months ago, I told Sir that I want to add a new level of protocol: Collar with leash. Now I’m not into pet play, but I do like the idea of Sir holding the end of a leash that’s attached to my collar. I also like the idea of having stricter protocols in place for such an instance. So that’s going to be added.

It’s going to be interesting to see what Sir thinks of the revisions I’ve made to the contract. He’s been asking me for a long time how far I want to go and exactly what I want from our relationship, and so I’ve made a few changes to reflect that. We’re shooting for somewhere between a Master/slave and Dominant/submissive type relationship, so I wanted to make some changes to perhaps get us there. Let’s hope the stuff in my head doesn’t scare him off!

Anyway, I have a ton of stuff to do before I turn in for the night, and it’s my birthday! So until later this week, when I write my second post, thanks for reading, all comments/questions are welcome!

Collared

In my last post, I hinted that Sir was putting together a birthday party for me; that was tonight. Although several friends couldn’t make it because it was last minute and they didn’t have sitters for their kids or whatever, several did, and they made it an incredible night. On top of that, Sir made an amazing dinner of homemade Salisbury steak with espagnole sauce, mashed potatoes, sauteed mushrooms and onions, followed with his own chocolate cake (all made from scratch) with a frosting that tasted like truffles, which has been dubbed the O-cake. And lots of vodka and cannabis. 😀

More on that later, because I have a funny story involving my collar. Some other interesting things have happened that I want to cover first.

This last week has been pretty difficult, because Sir has been working extra hours, and I had to work during one of the afternoons we could otherwise have spent together. On top of that, we had a huge storm Thursday night, which knocked out the power for several hours and caused road closures by where we live, thanks to downed trees. Thanks to the storm and worrying about getting to work on time and everything else, I only got three hours of sleep, and then went to work. How I got through the day, I have no idea!

By the time I got home, after working a very full eight hour shift, I was completely exhausted and starving, and wound up falling asleep on the couch. So, go figure, I didn’t get my blog post done.

When Sir got home from work what is now yesterday morning (since it’s officially Sunday), we wound up having a short conversation. It started with him apologizing for not making anything to eat (which was fine, I understood why, I just wish that he had texted me and let me know before I got off work, so I could go pick up something, which we discussed and cleared up, no problem), and then wound up being a discussion about how things have been lately. He knows that I’ve been struggling with his work schedule; he just didn’t know how much, because I didn’t want to tell him and make him feel guilty, when the whole reason he took the job is because it paid more than his last one and is closer. He’s working his ass off to support us, and I appreciate it so much. It’s just that the nights when he’s not here are very lonely, and the schedule makes it hard for us to do much of anything.

Then I told him that it was bugging me that we hadn’t had a good session for about three weeks, which is hard for me as a masochist and a pain slut. Oh there’s been a little bit here and there, but I’ve been dying to feel the thud of the flogger or one of our dowels and haven’t. We had a day a couple weeks ago where I was in my collar for the day, but still didn’t have any impact play or bondage, both of which I crave constantly. Explaining this to Sir is hard for me, because I’m still a bit shy about articulating exactly what I want… but I still told him that I’d been craving some impact play. He thought for a minute and then he asked if that’s why I’ve been so off lately. And I responded that yes, it’s part of the reason.

After talking a bit more and airing some grievances (and Sir laying down some new rules), Sir then informed me that I was to remain in my collar from when I got up today, until at least Monday afternoon. And that brings us up to now.

I’ve worn my collar in public before. The first few times, it was a little embarrassing, because if you’ve been reading for a while, you know what it looks like (if not, here’s a refresher); what the picture doesn’t show is how thick it is! It’s very bulky and obvious, and I always feel like people are looking at it and have all kinds of weird thoughts about it. Now it’s really not a big deal. However, what I have not done is worn it in front of my friends or any family members. That changed tonight.

I got several interesting comments on it. One friend who was present kept remarking that it was hard not to stare at it. He and his wife, who are good friends of mine and have been for nearly 20 years (jeez I’m old, LOL), both know about my relationship with Sir to an extent, but I haven’t discussed much about my collar with anyone. Another friend, who knows exactly what the collar means, smirked and didn’t ask any questions, though she did tease me relentlessly about it. My sister and her husband both teased me about wearing what looks like a dog collar, and at one point asked me why I didn’t take it off.

At first I just said I can’t, and I’m not allowed to, but then I said that I don’t want to, even if it was allowed. And it’s true. Sure, I could ask Sir if I can take it off (though I know the answer would be no. I may be able to take it off when we go to bed, however), but why would I want to do that? The truth of the matter is, I love my collar, and I love what it symbolizes. I can’t wait until Sir finds one that I can wear all the time!

Anyway, so the last guests just left a couple hours ago, and I’ve been more or less working on this post ever since, so I’m about done for. Hours of running errands and entertaining company have taken their toll on me! I’m still kind of hoping that maybe Sir and I can play a little bit tonight before we turn in… we shall see though. Perhaps that’ll give me something to write about on the post I have due on Monday! 😉

Until then, thanks for reading! All comments/questions are welcome, as always.

Kindness and a task

I’m sure it’s not news to anyone who has been reading this blog for a while that I’ve been dealing with a lot of things lately. The past few days I’ve been really struggling, even more so than usual, to the point where I’ve been pretty depressed. For some reason today I was struggling a bit more so than I had been. Between all the stresses of moving and new jobs and new schedules, some family drama which I will absolutely not go into here, the approach of the holidays (which are pretty much always hard for me, and have been for years), and the approach of my birthday (one week to go as of midnight tonight, gulp), I’ve just been feeling very down.

Earlier today after Sir got up, he worked on homework for a couple hours. While he was doing that, I took a shower, had a bowl of cereal, made the bed, and swept the kitchen floor. After he was done, he came out to make us something to eat (an absolutely delicious chicken and mushroom risotto!), and he noticed almost immediately that I seemed down. So of course right away, he started coaxing me to tell him what was on my mind, and I was doing my usual thing, where I pull away and don’t want to talk about what’s bothering me. So at first I didn’t. Instead I complained about having to rewash some dishes that had been “cleaned”, which happens much more often than it should.

I know that probably makes me a “bad sub”, that I’m not always the one that does the dishes. However, when the kids are here (like they were this weekend), it makes for a lot of extra work for me, and Sir likes to help me out by either making his boys do the dishes, or he does them. Most of the rest of the week, I do the breakfast, lunch, and dinner dishes (though Sir does help out quite a lot! Like the other night, I came home from work and he’d not only made something for dinner, he’d also done the dishes and taken out the trash. He picks up the slack when I can’t, which I appreciate much more than I can ever say!), so it’s nice to have a break. Not so nice when I go to put away dishes that are supposed to be “clean” and they still have food or grease on them, though!

Anyway, that wasn’t what was really bothering me, and Sir knew it, so he let it go. Finally after a little while of gentle teasing and coaxing, I told Sir exactly what had me so down on top of everything else.

One of the things that I love about Sir is that he never makes me feel bad or wrong for telling him what’s on my mind. If I’m sad about something, he wants me to tell him. And then he wants to set about fixing it.

Of course, sometimes he can’t. There’s a lot about our situation that just can’t be fixed right now, but at least we’re working on it and we should get there eventually. In the meantime it’s frustrating for both of us, needless to say.

While I ate the yummy risotto Sir had made, he was busy doing something on his phone. I thought maybe he was playing a game, and I was a bit miffed since he and I haven’t really spent a whole lot of time together the past few days and I’ve been feeling very deprived (and more than a little lonely, not to mention that we still haven’t had a good session in weeks!). Finally after I was done eating, I asked him if he planned on getting off his phone and maybe sitting with me for a while since he was going to have to leave for work shortly. It was then that he told me that he was busy putting something together.

One of the things I had mentioned to him is that I am tired of always having to plan my own birthday shindigs. If I want to see my friends, I have to put something together. I have to figure out where to hold said shindig, work out a date and a time, figure out the invite list, everything. And it’s exhausting. I always feel like I shouldn’t be the one organizing it, like it’s asking for a present in a way, but really what I want is presence… that is, the presence of my friends. When I was with my ex, I always wished that he would say to me, “hey, why don’t I handle it this year!”, and he never did. This year, a friend of mine with whom I share my birthday was supposed to put something together, but she never did, and I just didn’t want to be stuck doing it again.

Anyway, so you’ve probably guessed by now, that’s what Sir was doing: He was contacting a few of my close friends, and inviting them over for a birthday dinner.

When he does things like this, I never quite know how to thank him. I’m really not used to people doing nice things for me. Oh, I have some good friends who have done amazing things to help me, especially the last few months, but within relationships I almost always felt like I was doing all the giving, and getting nothing in return. So now I have someone who actually wants to do kind things for me and spoil me rotten, and I just don’t know how to react. How can I tell Sir how much I love and appreciate him, and how amazing I think he is? I tell him I love him, and I appreciate him, and that I think he’s amazing, but I wish I could make him see himself as I see him. He is quite possibly one of the kindest men I’ve ever known.

On top of that, he sent me a text a little bit ago, giving me a task to perform before bedtime. Considering the fact that he hardly ever texts me from work (since as I’m sure I’ve said before, he has no reception inside the building and they’re not allowed to take their phones into the work area anyway), getting a text from him at all is a treat. It’s even better when he gives me something to do!

Anyway, so this is all I’ve got for tonight. What started off as a rough day actually kind of ended on a sweet note, at least, but even so, I have a couple things I need to get done before I go to bed, including folding and putting away the laundry. Thanks as always for reading, and all comments/questions are welcome!

Until Friday at the latest!

Evolution

I had originally intended to write a completely different post for what was supposed to be last night’s post, but truthfully I’m not crazy about what I was writing so I’m going to save it for another time.

Anyway, when Sir came home from work this morning and woke me up (for a little bit of loving too!), we had a short conversation about this blog. Sir noticed that I’ve been struggling to put out posts on time, and that I’ve been feeling uninspired, and he asked me if I still want to have the blog. I do…. but the thing is, it has been getting harder and harder to come up with things to write about. I feel like I’m often repeating myself, either talking about things that Sir and I have done together, or how amazing Sir is and how lucky I am to have him, or how sometimes submissives can wind up being targeted by predator “doms” (which then leads to a story about how amazing Sir is).

Maybe I’m being too critical of myself. I don’t know. But I feel like I’m repeating the same things over and over again, and that’s something I don’t want to do. And I’m sure that no one wants to read the same things repeatedly either!

One of the things that I told Sir is that I think that my posts were better when I first started writing. I don’t know what happened to that. A lot has changed since I first started writing, for one thing. My schedule is a lot more demanding. And truthfully, we don’t have half as many sessions anymore as we used to have. In fact, Sir has not used our implements on me even once in the last two weeks, maybe even three. Oh, I’ve gotten a couple of spankings, which have both been wonderful, but no use of the crop, floggers, dowels (which I guess are more or less like canes), or paddle. And truth be told, I’ve missed it horribly. And the bondage, and the gag, and the blindfold.

I’m not complaining, though, really (though perhaps I’m hinting to Sir that it’s past time for us to have a nice long impact play session, like the ones we used to have)! All relationships evolve over time, and with all the changes that we’ve faced together, it’s actually amazing that we’re still intact and that I’m still so happy (and I hope he is too!).

We had his daughters for three months, and then had to send them back to their mom because we had to move so far away from their school, and we didn’t want them to have to change schools (because we like the school we sent them to) or be on the bus for 20-30 minutes to get to school. So first we had to adjust to life with two precocious young girls, and then we had to adjust to only having them on weekends, the latter of which, as nuts as they drove me, was actually harder than the former.

We had the move, financial troubles, and more stress than I ever imagined I’d have to face.

I got back into school, and changed jobs, and Sir has also had some changes in that department as well, which has also involved a change in schedules, which I’ve already mentioned more times than I probably should.

I was going to use this blog to talk about how Sir and I got together, and how our relationship has evolved from a bedroom-based D/s relationship, to a 24/7 TPE. But the details that were so fresh in my mind when I first started writing have become replaced by the enormous stress we’ve been under and have been dimmed by time. The sessions that were so amazing in the beginning have become more intense, to the point where even though they don’t happen as often as I’d like, I’d say they’re better in a lot of ways. But even so, I don’t want this blog to be just about the amazing sessions. I’m pretty sure people would get tired of reading it, and besides, I’m not big on smut.

So I suppose I’m kind of looking for a new direction. I don’t know what’s going to happen. But maybe come Monday I’ll have a little bit more inspiration, and perhaps some new ideas.

Until then, thanks for reading, and I hope y’all have a good weekend.

Placeholder

Today was so hectic I just didn’t have a chance to get this done, and then while I was working on something earlier, I was distracted by a huge scare involving smoke and the fear that there was a fire. Luckily there wasn’t, but you still don’t want to mess around! Anyway, so I’ll finish up the post I was working on tomorrow. Until then!

Captured

Well here we are, I’m late again! I didn’t get much sleep Sunday night because Sir and I were attempting to squeeze out every moment we could on our child-free weekend (which included an entire day spent wearing my discipline collar!), and then I worked a few hours yesterday. For some reason I was just wiped out, and fell asleep on the couch around 11. By the time I woke back up at 2, I said forget it and went to bed. Sir wasn’t too pleased since this isn’t exactly the first time lately that I’ve been late on a blog post (though there was a valid reason for my being late on Friday, between work and the get together with my family), but once again he understands and at least I won’t be getting punished.

I know I’ve probably written a lot about the beginning of my relationship with Sir, like how fast we moved and how I was pretty much living with him within less than a month after we met. I knew from the beginning that my feelings for him were very different from the feelings I’d ever had for anyone before him. I was extremely comfortable with him, from our very first date forward, and in many ways I felt as though I’d known him my whole life.

I knew I loved him, but I didn’t know exactly how much until one afternoon when I was still at my old job, he picked me up and told me that I had to close my eyes when we got into the apartment, because he had a surprise for me.

Actually, here I should back up a bit. In many ways, Sir and I are perfect for each other. We both like to read, like the same kind of music (though I’m way more of a music person than he is), are both into history (though different aspects of history; he’s more about the wars and the weaponry, while I’m more about the sociological aspect. We both love historical architecture though!), and share at least some favorite movies and TV shows. However, we also both have a couple things that the other is not interested in at all. One of those things is my love of art, in which Sir has very little interest (which is funny, because he can draw and I can’t! When we first started dating, he drew me a picture of the TARDIS from Doctor Who that was just excellent, not to mention a really sweet move).

While we were going through the storage unit in which was almost everything I owned and picking things out, we ran across some paintings I had bought. Don’t get excited, they’re just reprints, other than a couple oil on canvas reproductions I have (from Da Vinci, Renoir, Monet, and Van Gogh), which still need framed! Anyway, so I was all kinds of excited about having them hanging up again, as they’re two of my favorite pieces (“Two Girls at the Piano” by Renoir, and “Girl at Window” by Rembrandt), but then Sir revealed that he’s not really into art. So my thought was that I’d never see them hanging up again.

Fast forward a couple days after we pulled my stuff out of storage, Sir picked me up from work, I came into the apartment. And suddenly, it had become our apartment instead of just his. Up until that point, I had kind of felt like I didn’t have a place in his apartment. It wasn’t anything that Sir did or did not do, it’s just that he had never shared the apartment with anyone besides his kids, and even they weren’t there full time… so it was just his. So I walk in and he tells me to open my eyes, and I couldn’t believe what I saw.

He had put my bookcases together, and placed them on each side of the entertainment center, the way I had suggested.

He had rearranged all the furniture in the way I had suggested we do to open up the living room more and make it more comfortable (not to mention accommodate my bookcases and antique steamer trunk).

And amazingly enough, he had hung my paintings!

That was the moment for me, the moment that I realized that I really did intend on spending the rest of my life with him. He had realized it long before that, but I needed a little while. I knew I loved him, but until that moment, I didn’t know whether or not that love would really have a future. In that instant, I knew that it would.

Over the last few months since then, Sir and I have faced a lot. One of the worst things has been the move. I wasn’t going to talk about it on here, and that is all I’m going to say about it (as in, mention that we had to move). It’s been a struggle the past few weeks dealing with all the changes, like the move, Sir’s job change (which also involved a change in schedule), and now my job has been added to the mix.

So it’s funny to me that after all this, after everything we’ve gone through, he can still take my breath away, to the point where I have no idea how to thank him and feel completely inadequate for him.

I came home from work yesterday, and one of the first things I noticed is that he had hung my paintings. And I realized how much I really truly love him, all over again.

It just goes to show, my home is Sir. Wherever he is, that’s where I want to be. I’m so very lucky. ❤

Anyway, so this is all I’ve got. I need to get to bed, since I have to work tomorrow.

Thanks as always for reading, until next time!

Discipline and punishment

First I’d like to take a moment and apologize for being late; we decided to have our family Thanksgiving on Friday rather than Thursday, since two of our cousins were coming in from out of town. We were drinking, laughing, talking, and having very inappropriate conversations until I was finally able to get a ride home at 3 a.m. Sir was a little annoyed that I didn’t get it done yesterday, but I was working from 8:30 a.m. (which meant I had to catch the bus at around 7:40) until nearly 3, so I just wasn’t home. By the time I got home, I had to get to bed, since I also had to work today. Today’s shift was only supposed to be four hours, but we wound up short-handed and having shifts to cover, and so I was asked to work until 9:30. I just got home a little over an hour ago as of now (it’ll probably be closer to two and a half hours by the time I’m done with this).

Luckily for me Sir is very understanding. 🙂

So moving on, I’ve been thinking a lot about how new submissives tend to find themselves in trouble, and I kind of wanted to address one of the issues that I’ve seen.

Many times, I’ve heard of situations where a submissive enters into a relationship with a person who calls themselves a dominant, and eventually the “dominant” begins demonstrating some very undesirable traits, like using especially harsh “punishments” (in which they actually inflict real damage, like broken/fractured bones or lacerations), and shutting down any objection to their abusive behavior like stating that they’re the “dominant” and the person they’re abusing is their property and so they can do whatever they want. These submissives then come to believe this is normal for BDSM, so in many instances they wind up getting very hurt (or worse), or they walk away from the lifestyle altogether.

They fail to realize that one of the most important things about a D/s relationship is consent. Until a submissive signs a contract stating otherwise or receives some other symbol of being owned (such as a collar), he or she retains ownership of their body, and is the driving force between every aspect of the relationship in which he or she is involved.

As anyone who has been reading this blog knows, I am in a 24/7 D/s relationship with a Dominant. He considers me a prized possession, not necessarily his “property”. I still have rights. I consent to the types of punishments he can use for me; for example, I consent to nothing that completely covers my  body and restricts my movement (like a latex suit or something similar), nothing that covers my face completely, no permanent damage or marks that wouldn’t normally be covered by clothing, nothing sexual (so no orgasm denial), and nothing that involves being shut up in small spaces (as I’m mildly claustrophobic). Beyond this, none of my hard limits (such as no scat or urine and no sharing or public humiliation) can be used. It’s also better if he never raises his voice to me, because it can be triggering for me.

These things aren’t specifically in my contract, but Sir and I have discussed them and agreed to them.

I consent to Sir using a belt on me because I know he will never go too far. He is super careful when he punishes me with his belt, because he knows he could really hurt me, and that’s the last thing he ever wants to do. This is the only kind of physical discipline he is allowed to use on me. He is not allowed to use any other implements except for his belt, and he never uses his belt for pleasure.

Sir is allowed to use writing assignments as punishment. This one is especially harsh for me since I’m already a full-time student, an aspiring writer, and have this blog, and on top of that I’ve now added a job. Needless to say, I tend to do whatever I can to avoid him giving me this punishment!

Sir can also “ground” me from certain things, or restrict my usage of things that I love. He’s only used this once, and it was effective enough that I can pretty much guarantee won’t ever break the rule that led to this particular punishment again!

Now here’s the thing though: Sir cannot use any punishments on me at all, unless he can tell me exactly what I did wrong, and show how whatever it is doesn’t have any place in our relationship. He can never punish me out of anger or frustration. If he’s going to use physical punishment on me, he must be completely sober and calm.

Unlike discipline, which is normally used more or less just for fun, I’m not allowed my use of safe words while being physically punished. However, the only reason that this is acceptable is because I’ve already agreed to the terms of the punishments and what types of behavior/actions they’ll be used to correct. In all other cases, safe words should be mandatory.

I know I’ve said it many times before, but if you are new to the lifestyle and you are a submissive, please run far away from any “dominant” who ever tells you that you don’t need safe words! You always, always, always do, and it’s always better to have one and not need it, than to not have one and wind up getting hurt… or worse.

Now as far as funishment (which I may sometimes call discipline, even though it’s not exactly the same thing), Sir can use any implements that he wishes to use on me. However, there are places on my body that he has to avoid (such as areas not normally covered by clothing, and places where actual harm can come to me from impact play), I am allowed to use my safe words at any time, and he must always be both calm and sober when he wishes to use any implements on me. He cannot take out any anger or frustration on me (nor would he, even if I consented to him doing so). He must pay close attention to my body language during discipline, and stop immediately if anything about my reactions show that I’m not enjoying myself.

Sir has my consent to slap me on various parts of my body, including my face, ass, and breasts. However, he must never hit me with all of his strength, can never leave any marks on my face, and can never hit me out of anger or for any other reason than us having a session. Slapping outside of a session is absolutely not allowed. He is, however, welcome to leave any kind of marks he wants on my ass and breasts.

All of these things have been negotiated by Sir and me throughout the length of our relationship. We are constantly discussing information that we both find that pertains to the lifestyle, general topics we encounter on forums, and new things that we discover. I would say that our relationship is pretty typical for a healthy D/s dynamic, because I do not feel that I have anything to fear, and I don’t believe for a second that Sir would ever intentionally harm me during a session, and perhaps not ever at all in any situation (I’m still trying to have enough trust in a person to believe that!).

Communicating about what kinds of punishment and discipline are allowed and why/why not before ever entering into any kind of permanent relationship with someone claiming to be a dominant is extremely important. We have to protect ourselves. You can’t just latch on to someone who calls themselves a dominant and assume that they’ll have your best interests at heart and that they’ll actually do everything they can to protect you and please you while you serve them. There are predators among us. Take the steps that you can to prevent falling prey to them before it happens!

Anyway, this is all I’ve got tonight. It’s almost 1 a.m. and my feet are still throbbing, and I think I’d really like to finish smoking this bowl I started a little bit ago, and perhaps relax a bit with Sir before I wind up falling asleep. I’m beyond exhausted and badly in need of a good night’s sleep!

Thanks as always for reading, and all comments/questions are welcome!

Oh, and happy late Thanksgiving to any American readers out there!

Exhaustion

It was kind of a tough weekend in a lot of ways. Friday nights with the kids are usually the toughest for some reason, but this last Friday night was actually pretty easy, all things considered. Saturday, however, was a nightmare.

It all started at about 7 a.m. (about four hours after I went to sleep). I’m not a light sleeper, but there are certain sounds that I’ve trained myself to awaken if I hear them. For example, one of the kids waking up (seriously, it’s like I can hear their eyes opening), phone ringing, text messages, door opening/door lock clicking, the mechanism on an alarm clock preparing to go off, windows opening, a cat getting sick, etc. I can sleep through almost anything else, really.

Anyway, I woke up because one of the kids was awake. At first I wasn’t sure, but then I heard the TV turn on. Ugh, I’m getting annoyed just thinking about it. So Sir’s 14 year old turning on the TV woke up his younger brother (they both sleep out in the living room), who started yelling (because what better way to get out your frustration at 7 in the morning than to start yelling at your brother), which got Sir out of bed, which then woke up the girls, who were really cranky all day because heaven forbid anyone sleep past 8 on a weekend.

And that is how it went all day. It was constant arguing, attitudes, disrespect, fighting with each other, completely disregarding our rules (like no playing on the furniture!), complaining when asked to do something, etc. etc. By bedtime, I was about to rip my hair out, and/or duct tape all the kids to the ceiling. Which I would never, ever do, no matter how tempting it might be, for the record. Just in case anyone was wondering. Besides, we don’t have any duct tape.

As such, last night and today have both been a welcome reprieve… and getting to go to work on Saturday was a vacation.

By the time the kids went home, I was over it. Just… over it. I love them dearly and I started missing them earlier today, but last night, I was more than happy to have a quiet evening with just Sir and me and the cats. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, we got another cat from the Humane Society the other day. He’s a super cute 7 year old tabby and I’m just crazy about him!

But even so, it wasn’t all bad. There were some pretty great moments. Sir’s oldest son came over to watch the game with us (Seahawks, of course!) yesterday, and at one point he showed me a hilarious video. I got hugs and an “I love you” from each of Sir’s daughters, and a hug from Sir’s youngest son, as well as a friendly “bye Cat!” from both of Sir’s other sons (in spite of the one being upset about a missing sock. Yes, a missing sock. It’s a sock-tastrophe, I tell you). I watched a cat come out of his shell and let the kids all pet him… not that he’s at all shy about letting us know when he wants attention.

And Sir and I had some of the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. After the kids were gone, of course.

Unfortunately this all means that I need to recharge. I took most of today to do so, but it just wasn’t enough, and the girls are coming back here starting tomorrow to spend part of this week with us since they don’t have school. So I’m a little burned out and uninspired tonight. Not to mention completely exhausted.

So this is all for now. Thanks for reading!

Edit: Oh and funny story, I was so tired, I thought I posted this but I guess I didn’t! Sorry I’m late!

Us

In an earlier post, I wrote about how I came to call Sir, well, Sir. I also mentioned that I even call Sir as such in front of his kids. One time a few months ago, I called him Sir in front of his daughters, and the one giggled and said, “Cat, why do you call daddy Sir?”

I was momentarily flustered and unsure of how I should answer, but then I said that it was a respect thing. No big deal. They still sometimes giggle when they hear me call him that, but I don’t mind.

The more complicated questions come from Sir’s sons, who have actually seen some of our implements. We make no effort to hide them. What’s the point? The kids aren’t even really supposed to come into our room at all, much less start messing with stuff, so if they see something they shouldn’t, that’s their fault, not ours. The funny thing is that Sir’s youngest son actually assumed at first that I would use one of our floggers on Sir, rather than the other way around.

This goes back to the whole thing about how some people would believe that I’m dominant, rather than submissive. I’m outgoing and I have a strong personality, and I’m also opinionated and passionate about the things I believe in. Of course people would think I’m dominant.

Tonight one of Sir’s other sons (I did mention that he has three sons, right? The one I’m speaking of is the middle son, who is 14) told me about how when his dad and I first started talking, he happened to see a text in which Sir asked me what I was up to, and I answered that I was contemplating smoking a bowl. His first thought was that I would be tattooed and pierced everywhere, and he was shocked at how “normal” I seem to be. I actually don’t have any tattoos at all (though Sir and I are talking about getting tattoos to symbolize our relationship at some point), and I only have two holes in each ear. And then Sir’s son brought up when he first saw the flogger.

I’m sure my face must have turned completely red, because both boys started cracking up, while I sat there saying that I had no idea what they were talking about, their dad and I don’t have anything like that, no never. No way.

I’m probably a little less embarrassed than I should be, and by a little, I mean a lot. Honestly, although they’re too young to know everything, I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s not like they don’t know anything at all about sex, and I make no attempt to hide what Sir is to me, since I call him Sir even in front of them, and when he asks me to do something I do it immediately. Usually.

I say usually because sometimes I do feel like Sir asks too much of me, like asking that when I do the laundry, it should all be folded and put away the same day that it’s all washed. The problem with that is that I usually am doing at least two loads at once, and sometimes as many as four. Most people, when they do laundry, do one load at a time. In a lot of ways that makes it easier, because then one can just fold the one load when it comes out of the dryer, before the other load even finishes washing. Folding one load at a time? No big deal. Folding four in the same time period? Exhausting. I usually take about 24-48 hours to get it all done. Sometimes longer, I’m not going to lie. Good thing Sir is patient and understanding, because I’m not always going to be able to get everything done.

Anyway, I digress. I just don’t see any point in hiding our lifestyle from anyone. I don’t care what they think (though I’m not exactly having crazy long conversations about BDSM with certain teenage boys), and if they really have trouble understanding it, I’m happy to explain, without going into too much detail. I don’t tell too many people that I sometimes am punished with a belt, or that we keep our ropes on the bed because there’s not much point to removing them, or that Sir has made me have more orgasms than should be possible for any human being. What I will tell them is that yes, I do whatever Sir tells me to do (usually) and I give him whatever he wants sexually (always always always), and he does call most of the shots in our relationship and our life together (while still listening to me and valuing my input).

I think Sir’s kids accept the less (for lack of a better word) “normal” aspects of our relationship because the rest is so typical of other non-TPE type relationships. We bicker and play and tease, and sometimes we’ll stop whatever we’re doing to hug and kiss each other. I love that about us. Right now, the girls have been in bed for nearly three hours, while the boys have both nodded off on the couch, and Sir is sitting next to me watching one of his shows on the History Channel. I’ve said before that we really do have a pretty “normal” relationship, there’s just an edge to it, and this very moment is a perfect example of that.

Anyway, I’ve got a migraine coming on, I’m out of cannabis (again) and feeling very uninspired, and this is really all I’ve got. Plus I work tomorrow (yay!) so I’m a little distracted figuring out what I’m going to wear and wondering how it’s going to go. So far I love my job! Of course, this is only going to be my sixth shift, so maybe I should be asked again a few months from now.

Okay, I’m done. Thanks as always for reading!

Fifty shades of WTFrack, you don’t know me!

I happened to come across this article (I used DoNotLink so that clicking on the link will not increase traffic to the original site), and it made me so angry that I had to write a response. I couldn’t care less about their criticism of 50 Shades, as I haven’t read it nor do I have any desire to do so, because from what I’ve heard about it, it is so far removed from being actual BDSM that it would be laughable if so many new “submissives” and “dominants” weren’t taking their cue from it and thinking that the behavior represented in the book is in any way normal or acceptable. What I do care about is what I believe to be their misinterpretation and mischaracterization of what BDSM actually is to those who are involved in it, and that is where my focus is going to be today.

First off, I am not a submissive because I am a woman. My gender is incidental. If I were exactly the same person, but a male, I would probably still be a submissive. It’s integral to who I am. (As an aside, it’s interesting to note that criticisms of BDSM tend to ignore the rather large segment of male submissives, instead focusing on the female. Look, we’re not all Gorean, and we don’t always believe in the subjugation of women just because they’re women. Gorean role-play may fall under the umbrella of BDSM, but not all who are into BDSM are into it.) I am a feminist. I believe that men and women are equal. I have no problems reconciling my feminism with my submission, because my submission has nothing to do with my being a woman. Sir “controls” me, not because I am a woman, but because I am a submissive and he is a Dominant and this is what both of us crave. We consider ourselves partners in an equal relationship, full of give and take. And no, I don’t believe that I give more to the relationship than Sir does.

Second, Sir actually has yet to truly hurt me. Even when he has punished me with his belt, I may be a little sore for a couple days afterwards, and I may even have a bruise from it, but I’m not actually hurt. I’ve been in abusive relationships before. My ex-husband, as anyone who has been reading this blog would know, was both physically and emotionally abusive. Sir is the exact opposite, and I am not the least bit afraid of him. I’m not afraid of what he’ll do to me, even when I’m being punished. With my ex-husband, I never knew what was going to set him off, and I constantly felt as though I was walking on eggshells. Sir wants to know my heart and mind, wants me to be who I am, and wants me to feel safe and comfortable with him. My ex-husband just wanted to hurt me. How anyone can fail to see the difference is beyond me.

Third, what I consent to as far as discipline/funishment does not harm me in any way. There have actually been times where I’ve been on the verge of orgasm (awaiting Sir’s permission to do so) or have burst out laughing while bound and being flogged. My body processes “pain” differently from other people. For me, consenting to a flogging from someone I love and trust is exhilarating and extremely pleasurable, and when that flogger strikes me on my back or on my ass, I revel in it. When Sir uses our implements on me, he does not break my skin, nor does he strike me anywhere on my body that I do not have enough flesh to insulate me from harm, or anywhere that could cause harm to my organs. He is also careful not to use too much force, particularly when he uses one of our wooden dowels on me. And I am encouraged to use my safe words if it ever gets to be too much, which it has yet to do.

Fourth, who is anyone to tell someone why they’re into the things they’re into? Yes, in some ways I did have a traumatic childhood. I lost a lot of loved ones before I even hit puberty, including but not limited to my only remaining grandparents and my father (my grandparents were actually all dead before I reached the age of four). However, that would explain my abandonment issues and fear of Sir dying before we’ve had at least a good 30 years together much more than it would explain my desire to be bound, gagged, and flogged. I’ve mentioned before that I’ve been into BDSM for as long as I can remember. I had fantasies about being bound at a very early age, without understanding what the point of it was, and it only became more and more intense as I became an adult. Now I can’t imagine living without it. I enjoy being helpless and bound. I fantasize about it constantly and crave it. And then when it happens? Pure ecstasy!

Unless you’re my psychologist (which you are not, because I don’t have one!), do not attempt to psycho-analyze me!

Fifth, Sir may call me a slut while we’re involved in play, but for me it’s freeing rather than degrading. With him, I’m free to be who I am. I can immensely enjoy all the various ways that he “tortures” me and pleases me, without feeling any shame. I am not humiliated or degraded in any ways to which I do not consent (and honestly, when he “degrades” me I love it!), and he never takes it too far. Sometimes during a session, he’ll caress my cheek, tell me he loves me, or kiss me gently (like he did this morning when we were involved in a little play). He’ll reassure me if I’m nervous (“you’re going to be fine, gorgeous, I’m taking care of you”). Our play is done in such a way that it’s healthy; he does not use “slut” as a derogatory name for me, and I actually feel a thrill when he uses it, because I’m not “a” slut, I’m his slut. And I take pride in that, because I know how to please Sir, and I make sure that I do. Whatever he wants, he gets, and I’m more than happy to provide that for him.

Sixth, after any kind of session, I don’t feel degraded, I feel free and light and extremely happy. Even if I crash once the endorphins wear off (and yes, sometimes I do, it’s called sub-drop), Sir is right there reassuring me and holding me in his strong arms. That is called aftercare, and it’s an integral part of BDSM. I would say that having a session without any kind of aftercare offered could be characterized as abuse.

Finally, there is no fear in love, and I truly love Sir, with all of my heart and soul. I don’t fear him. I don’t even fear punishment (though of course I don’t want to be punished, because it means that I’ve let Sir down). Perhaps this is all “abnormal”, but what is “normal” anyway? We all like different things, both inside and outside the bedroom, right? So as long as both parties consent and are in a position to consent to whatever is being done (which means no animals or children should be involved), who is anyone to say it’s wrong?

Ah. I feel much better now that I’ve gotten this off my chest.

What kinds of things would you like to say to people who misunderstand our lifestyle, if given the chance? All comments/questions are welcome, and thanks as always for reading!

Oh, and if you have not read the books and you’re curious to know why I have such a huge problem with it, here is a blog I found recently (from the comments of the article I posted) with actual excerpts from the books. They’re very disturbing, and I can’t believe that there isn’t more outcry over it. No one should ever feel the way Ana was forced to feel in the books. It makes me sad and angry that people think this is BDSM. It is not, with all due respect to those who may feel that way.

Until Friday at the latest!