Out of Kilter

Apparently being away for a short time means that things are festering...the not so good things.  It's really not anything related to our dynamic.  Or maybe it is...I don't know.  

But it's obvious we are out of kilter somehow.

My stress level lately hasn't been helping.  I have worked so hard over the last couple of years to work through the stressful "life" stuff with more control and calm but that's been slipping.  I feel it and everyone has seen it or been on the receiving end of it.

It all came to a head the other day and while I feel better, like I rid myself of all the poison that had built up and I could hit the reset button, I couldn't help but feel guilty for the path of destruction I left in my wake.   A negative pattern of behavior that I really thought I had conquered. 

I could see it so clearly...afterwards.

Several things have happened over the past couple of weeks that have left me upset or frustrated and they continued to build.  Mostly, these were issues with the kids but some were between Him and I.  In trying not to overstep my bounds, I left a lot unsaid.  And to make matters worse, I felt unheard in the things I did say.  Eventually, everything just started compounding and before I knew it, I was in a full fledged meltdown  

When I blew...I was convinced that my feelings were justified and while I still feel that my issues were valid, I know I failed to handle myself the way I know that I should.  He was right..I.did lose sight of my place and can only hope the cool winds blow over soon.                 

The Road Not Taken

After a long crazy week of work, school and sports functions, and a sick kid in our bed every night, it was so nice last night to finally snuggle up in bed with Heron and catch up on the season premier of The Walking Dead, which was AWESOME by the way!!

We had absolutely no adult time this week and I know I was about to crawl out of my skin with desire for Him and I am sure He was feeling the same.  But by the time the show was over, it was already late and even though it was a Friday night, I had to get up early this morning and go into work for a little while. 

Heron took one look at me and commented on how exhausted I seemed, but it didn't stop me from giving Him the puppy dog eyes hoping that He would let me stay up just a little longer for some much needed use.

As I nuzzled against Him, stroking His cock to life, His fingertips softly grazed the flesh on my shoulder.  My skin felt so alive and arousal coursed through my body.

He then gave me a choice. 

You can either taste my cum, or I can taste you...but you can't have both tonight.

I must have looked at Him cross eyed for just a split second.  It's not often I am actually given a choice in our sexual activities.  He quickly followed up with, I'm being for real...it's not a trick question.

Well, to me it may not necessarily be a trick question but there really is only one right answer.

Right?

After being conditioned to focus on His needs before my own, did He really think that I would, or even could, choose my own pleasure above His? 
 

Have I Made My Point?

Friday night, as I was enjoying the taste and feel of Him on my lips, He began questioning me about the bathroom floor. There wasn't much I could say except to admit that I hadn't cleaned it.  It wasn't that I had been neglectful or forgetful.  I just hadn't done it yet that day. But it was too late.  He had already seen it and taken care of it Himself.   
 
He informed me that the next day I would be cleaning it, every inch of it, with my tongue.  AND I would do so completely naked and lying flat on my stomach on the cold tile.

Oh, this didn't sit well with me.  I continued working to please Him with my mouth but my mind was reeling.  I don't know what bothered me more, the form of punishment or the timing of it as we were supposed to most of Saturday alone together. 

Why did He put me off tonight, with promises of play tomorrow, only then to decide to punish me? 

After He found His relief and lay drifting off to sleep, I was left even more frustrated and upset with questions swirling around in my head. When I tried to ask Him something specific related to this punishment, He just said we would talk about it the next day.  Needless to say, it took me quite a while to fall asleep.

Of course, my unresolved feelings carried over into the next morning and He demanded to know what was wrong.  I didn't say much other than it had to do with the punishment. He chuckled a little and asked again if I had cleaned the floor.  I just shook my head no and stared out the car window.

After little one's soccer game, we shuttled her off to her cousins and decided to go grocery shopping.  The whole morning was so tense and was certainly not shaping up to be the day alone that I had hoped for. At one point, I thought maybe I had pissed Him off but He said no, only that He was hungry. 

He hadn't mentioned the punishment again so after we ate some lunch, I asked if I could please go ahead and get it out of the way so that I could stop worrying about it.  Our bathroom is big enough, I just knew it was going to take me every bit of the last four hours that we had alone anyways.

Of course. It's your punishment.  There's nothing stopping you.  

In my mind, I imagined myself stomping all the the way upstairs like a petulant little child and slamming the door.  Of course, I didn't because that would have meant a whole lot more trouble. I couldn't find it in me to handle this one with much grace apparently. 

I moved the bathmats off the floor, then removed my clothes and got a washcloth, just in case I needed to wipe my tongue off.  I didn't know if He would have approved of the washcloth but He hadn't specifically said not to use one:)

Staring down at the white tile, feeling it's cold against my flesh,  I fought the urge to cry.  It took a while before I actually found the courage to make myself take that first lick.  When I finally did, there was a pretty overwhelming urge to gag.  The toilet is in it 's own little closet and I was no where close to it but I still found myself hoping that I would somehow get sick. Maybe that would make Him feel bad.

Yeah...I did say I wasn't handling this one with much grace, didn't I? 

Then, I just decided the only way to get done was to just blocked out all the crap floating around in my head.  I had only cleaned about 12 tiles (each one about 6 inches by 6 inches) when He opened the door and stood there...

Watching...

Making me very uncomfortable and more humiliated than I already felt, if that was even possible.     

Please go away, I tried to tell Him.

No, I actually like watching you like this.

I continued licking the floor as He came over and crouched down pushing His fingers between my legs.

That's what I thought!

He stood back up and, after delivering a few strikes to my ass with the new leather strap, told me to get up and lay on the bed.   

Have I made my point or do I need to make you clean the rest of the floor?

Yes, Sir...you made your point.

And just like that, punishment was over and you better believe I was pretty thankful.  In fact, my giddiness almost got me in trouble again.  Thankfully, I keep my bathroom pretty clean.  I only randomly picked stuff out of my mouth for about an hour. 

Real Life Keeps Calling...

This has been a sad week in our house.  We unexpectedly had to say goodbye to our eldest dog.  She was more or less mine and Heron's girl.  The other two dogs, even though I take care of them all, were picked out specifically for each of our daughters.  

I'm glad whatever happened to her, happened fairly quickly though, most likely a stroke.  She went from being happy and healthy one day, to not being able to stand or walk the next.  I knew my decision was the right one but it certainly doesn't make it any easier.  It kind of makes sense now why the middle dog had been attacking her.  She must have sensed that the other one was ill or weakened.  We've had to keep them separated for a while now and I am kind of glad we don't have the stress hanging over our head that she would get killed in a dog fight. 

Gosh...it just sucks though!  I've had to make the decision several times to have one of our pets put down and this time I realized just how alone I feel in that.  Don't get me wrong...Heron is always completely supportive but it's one area that is mine to deal with completely.  He's never been the one to have that conversation with the vet or be the one holding our beloved pet as they take their last breath.  For all that tough exterior, I know He just can't do it and I love that He is that tender-hearted when it comes to certain things. 

Sometimes we still have to be the strong one...



 

Voicing Opinions

In response to my recent post Lazy Days and Questions, one reader asked:

My question is about the second part of your post. In your relationship as Husband/wife, to what extent are you allowed to voice your opinion as a spouse and not as a sub (even if it opposite to his)?

This is a really good question and I actually sat down and talked with Heron about his perspective on this question before I answered just to make sure that my take on it is correct.


So, we kind of boiled it down to a few key issues: sex, money, and kids.  These tend to be the most common areas of disagreement between married couples, right?

We never so much fought about money, mainly stressed over it, but we did have our fair share of arguments about sex and the kids.

Do I get to voice my opinion as a spouse?  Absolutely!  I am always free to voice my opinion...always have been free to.  Except maybe when it comes to sex now.  Well, even that, I can voice my opinion...but I just don't think my opinion matters much in that regard. 

Overall, He values my what I think and tells me all the time how smart and perceptive I am.  Whether we live in a D/s dynamic or not, we are still life partners and want what's best for each other and our family. 

However, what being submissive has taught me is there is always a time, place, and manner in which to express said opinions.  Loudly, disrespectfully, or perhaps in front of others, is not going to be in my best interest. My tone and style of communication is altogether different...all the time. 

For example, with the kids, I may not agree with how He has chosen to deal with something.  Used to be, I would have gotten really fired up about it and quite possibly "called Him down" in front of them, undermining His authority.  I might have even been right in what I was saying but my MO was horrible.  I see that now.  If I have an issue, I wait and discuss it with Him privately afterwards.  I may bite my tongue off in the process but because I am not approaching it aggressively, there is no need for Him to get defensive. Therefore, He actually listens to what I am saying and is much more likely to see and agree with my viewpoint.

With money, even though He manages the finances, we always discuss budget and big purchase items.  Could He buy that nice new boat He is dying to have?  Sure.  He doesn't require my permission to do that but we discuss all major decisions and He respects what I feel may or may not be in the best interest of our family. 

Sometimes my input gives Him a different perspective, sometimes I am His sounding board, and sometimes my words speak to His conscience. 

So yes, I am free to speak my opinion, even when it differs from His.  But I no longer see a distinction between speaking to Him as a wife or a sub. 

I am always His wife...I am always His submissive. 

And weighing my words isn't even a conscious decision I make anymore, it's just something that happens.. 

Not saying that I don't get angry or upset sometimes, but there isn't a timeout, so to speak, where I am granted the freedom to say what I want, however I want.  For the sake of keeping communication constructive, I always stay respectful.  And arguing...well, no matter what the situation, that just isn't going to happen.  

I admit though, if I am guilty of anything, it may be stating my opinion one too many times if I feel my point isn't getting across.  In that case, He'll give me the "That's enough!" and I know it's time to cool it. 

Thank you, Charlie for the question!  

A Bit of Conditioning

Isn't it quite ironic how our words can so easily come back to haunt us? 

Take for instance our blogs.  The one place where we can freely talk about our experiences good or bad, our likes, our dislikes, and sometimes our inner most feelings. 

Our blogs are not only a glimpse into our most secret world but maybe more importantly it's a chance for our Dominant partner to evaluate how we are processing these experiences. 

So let's talk about a recent revelation I made in the post But Am I Really A Masochist?

I made the statement to the effect of despising the use of pain on certain girly bits, but my ass, on the other hand, had seemingly become somewhat conditioned to spankings/pain. 

Well, here's the funny not so funny part of my story.

In reading my post, as Heron reads all of them, I guess He didn't read that statement for it's literal meaning but instead interpreted it as me saying "PLEASE...OH PLEASE condition my other girly bits".

Now I am pretty sure that's not what I meant, but apparently He's on a mission.  A mission of teaching me to accept that regardless of what I say about it, or even think about it, the simple fact is my body responds to it favorably and I should learn to simply embrace that fact.         

So beginning this past Monday, conditioning began with 5 licks to each nipple and 10 to my pussy using the riding crop.  

EACH...DAY...DOUBLES!! 

W...T...F!!  If you enjoy the movie The World's End with Simon Pegg like we do you will get the reference, LOL!

Today is only the third day, and we're already up to 20 on each nipple and 40 downstairs.  

I probably don't want to hear the answer, so I haven't asked how many more days of "conditioning" He intends.  But if He keeps it up all the way to the end of the week, He may find me hiding in a closet!!