Good Sport

Hopefully everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving with family and is surviving the Black Friday shopping if you chose to go out and brave that craziness today.  We, on the other hand, have yet another Thanksgiving meal to get through.  Yesterday was my family, today is Daddy's.  And thinking about all this food and how stuffed I am, reminds me of our date night last week.

Last Friday night, Daddy and I went out for dinner. As we were exiting the freeway, He voiced His concerns about my recent eating habits and how my need to control food was beginning to manifest itself again. 

When He and I met, no one in my life knew about the 3 year battle I had just overcome with eating disorders. I don't know why I felt compelled to share it with Him so quickly in our relationship, except for the fact that I just trusted Him that much.  I will never forget His words...If I ever catch you having problems like that again, I will take you straight to the hospital.  Yikes!!  Sounded harsh but I loved Him even more for caring that much.

And while I don't struggle like I did as a teenager, the actual mindset and counting of calories is an ever-present balancing act, never letting myself get too carried away one direction or the other.  But since we've started eating paleo, I've lost a few extra pounds that I really didn't need to. It wasn't intentional, but we have eliminated pretty much all grains and processed foods.

He doesn't usually choose to control my food but apparently this was an area He was temporarily taking over.  And while I truly appreciate that He cares enough about my overall well-being to notice what I eat and don't eat, I could already feel the panic welling up inside me at the thought of being made to put these pounds back on.   

So we sit down at our table and when the waitress comes to ask for our drink order, she first looks at me, which is always a bit uncomfortable as I shift my eyes to Him.  He promptly asks for her to bring me a pina colada and then orders an unsweet tea for Himself. 

When she returned with the drinks and to take our dinner order, my menu was closed and lying on the table and I was already looking to Him hoping she would understand my gesture. 

His choice was actually what I had eyed on the menu so I was pleased...butterflied chicken breast with a balsamic raspberry glaze and broccoli.

While waiting for dinner to come, I was slowly sipping on my drink and noticed He was already scouring the menu for my next drink. I tried reasoning with Him that I didn't need another drink, since I had also had one at home as well, but of course, that didn't work. 

He stopped her as she walked by, asking what drink she would recommend. Oh, she just got so excited. 

"Sir, I just love the black and blue margarita.  It's my absolute favorite.  Would you like me to bring you one?"

No, I don't drink but you can bring one for my wife.

She giggles a little and heads off with a promise of returning shortly. 

The second drink arrives and is bigger than the first. Might as well have been a darn fish bowl and I still had half the pina colada!! 

So I am working on this monster of a margarita. Dinner comes and I barely manage to get through about half of it.  He was fine with me taking the rest home but already knew what was coming next.  The waitress returns and asks Him if she can bring me another margarita.  

Ah...she was catching on now. 

I gave my somewhat fake, overly-pleasant laugh and said "please, don't instigate Him".  They both laughed at me and He tells her "No drink, but she'll have the brownie sundae". 

Eventually, I manage to down both drinks and several bites of the brownie sundae but that was it. I was done and honestly didn't care if I was in trouble or not.  There wasn't another bite or sip of anything going in my mouth and had He forced the issue, I surely would have broken down and cried (and probably thrown up) right there in the restaurant. 

Thankfully, He didn't press any further. He asked if I was finished and I nodded my head in defeat, and I watched as He polished off the dessert.

When she came back to bring us the check she said in the sweetest and southern voice, "I do hope ya'll come back and see me.  You two are just so much fun". And then looked at me and said "and you are just such a good sport".

All I could think was Lady, you have no idea!

Spinning a Yarn

Back a few weeks ago, Heron implemented a set of new expectations, we'll call them long-term temporary expectations. I might have mentioned this in other recent posts but I haven't given too many specifics about what these expectations entailed.

Well, one of them is to provide Heron a story.  But not just a story...a story every week.

I have mentioned how THIS is not my favorite thing to do, right?

So naturally, I should become better and more at ease with it if I do it every week I suppose.

The one thing I have learned while trying to adapt to this expectation and the process of developing each week's story is why the whole darn thing is so difficult for me.  Yes, I am somewhat shy and worry that my story will be "uninspiring", but more importantly, I realize how different we fantasize.  And that's what makes coming up with fodder for a story so difficult.

Heron has an amazing imagination.  You read about it in the some of our scenes that I have shared  here in my blog.  And to Him, fantasies are meant to be the same way.  He creates this elaborate story in it's entirety, in His head.  There's a beginning, an end, a plot (well kinda like a bad porno maybe...haha!)  Details are so very important to Him, so that the scene and characters take on a life of their own.

I, on the other hand, got nothin'.  I'm not creative...not imaginative.  I am purely an analytical thinker.  And this is where we differ and why I lack in the whole "story-telling" business.  I don't need specifics or details.  When I fantasize, it's only a scenario.  There's no story, just an image in my mind of what is happening.

So, I guess this gap between our imaginations is why I struggle to meet His expectations.  It's pretty bad that I have to do research to enhance these abilities.

The first week was a tale of blackmail and forced servitude.  Good topic, bad execution.

The second week was only slightly better with a tale of being gang banged in a bar.

But tonight...what will tonight's story be?  I have not a clue, yet!

Suggestions certainly welcomed:)

Opposite Sides

It amazes me how Daddy and I literally have spent pretty much our entire marriage sleeping on opposite sides of the bed.

Neither of us, particularly me, was the type to snuggle and fall fast asleep wrapped up together. I couldn't do it.  It felt smothering, hot (and not in a good way), and downright uncomfortable on my neck.  I remember having discussions with other couples and often admitted that we liked having a king sized bed because it was almost like sleeping alone. He had His side and I had mine.  Once in a while, we maybe snuggled for a minute, usually on His side, but it wouldn't take long before I was scooting back over to my side.       

Now in all fairness, we have always had a little one around the house climbing into bed with us.  This pretty much started on day one of our marriage since we were raising His son from a previous marriage. 

It didn't take long for us to decide that since we were already raising one child, we might as well start adding to our family. And while we have gotten some things right in parenting, the sleep thing has never been one of them. 

It's so easy to "give in" that first time they are scared or sick and want to sneak into your bed for comfort. We finally learned, what starts out as a weak moment on your part, has now just become law to your child. 

With each subsequent child, I swore the bad sleeping habits wouldn't start...somehow it did anyways.  I won't throw Daddy under the bus here but He does have quite a soft spot, particularly for His daughters. And honestly, while aggravating at times, this is one of the things I find most endearing about Him.

Now our youngest is finally turning the corner with her sleep issues and I am loving it.  Most nights now, for the first time in our lives, we have the bed to ourselves...ALL NIGHT!  And I don't take one single night for granted anymore.  My absolute favorite part of the day is climbing in the bed and seeing His arm already outstretched, waiting for me to nestle into His shoulder and fall asleep.

Submissive Test

In the two years that I have considered myself submissive, I haven't once taken one of these tests.  I don't really know why except that I just didn't put much value in it....still don't really. At this point, what could a silly little quiz really tell me about myself anyways? But for the fun of it, Daddy took the Dominant's quiz and then told me I should try it.  Well, it was pretty much spot on with my highest percentage being in the Domestic Submissive category.

Just a little side note, as you can see in the description below, my best match would include the sadistic dominant.  I don't think it takes a rocket scientist to believe that Daddy scored 92% in that category!!

What Kind of Submissive Am I?

Results

1. The Acolyte Submissive 84%
2. The Brat Submissive 4%
3. The Cow/Pig Submissive 25%
4. The Domestic Submissive 85%
5. The Kajira Sub/Slave 60%
6. The Little Submissive 20%
7. The Novice Submissive 10%
8. The Painslut Submissive 15%
9. The Pet Submissive 52%
10. The Pseudo Submissive 20%
11. The Warrior Princess Submissive 44%

 

The Domestic Submissive. Sometimes referred to as a service submissive, she is expected to perform domestic duties such as cooking, cleaning, childcare, chauffeuring, and yard work. The Domestic sub is often expected to be sexually available to the Dominant, and sometimes to his other submissives, friends, or guests. Humiliation role play is quite often a significant part of their dynamic. Best matches: The Sadistic Dominant / The Lesser God Dominant / The FemDom Mistress. 

 http://domination-submission.com/take-a-quiz/the-submissive-test/

 http://domination-submission.com/the-dominant-test/

Lines of Communication

I had a great conversation with my oldest daughter yesterday.  An eye-opening, amazing conversation really.  She and I have always been extremely close.  I've always known she has a good head on her shoulders and she carries herself with a maturity that is well beyond her years.  We've also been extremely fortunate to have never experienced the typical teenage strife.  Honestly, I don't know what I did to be so lucky.

Anyways, she came home the other day and eagerly asked me if I had seen the trailer for the 50 Shades movie.

GULP!

Well, she is 18 years old now, so it's not surprising that the kids at school have been talking about it.  Even though she hasn't read the story, she knows that I did and I'm pretty sure she has unintentionally come across enough to guess that we are at least a bit kinky (ahem...photos of school girl outfit).  But I gave her a bit of advice a while back ago..if you don't want to know the answer...don't ask.

However, I've always been very open in talking with her and educating her about sex so I decided this was a perfect opportunity to open the lines of communication about alternative lifestyles and see what she knew and how she felt about it.  Without getting into what we do, I did explain that people have varied sexual needs and desires. This is just my opinion, but I believe that what happens in your bedroom is between you and your partner and not something to discuss with your kids, regardless of age.  Unless of course they ask are are comfortable with the information. 

Well, when she used the term BDSM before I even had a chance to, my jaw hit the floor.  I was like, you know about that?!  I don't think I had that level of understanding until I was married, but that's beside the point.  Times are different now.  These kids know WAY more than we did and at a really young age.  

Then, she started discussing the dominant and submissive personalities, not necessarily in a sexual context, just more in general.  

WHEW!!  Now wiping the sweat off my face...wondering am I really having this conversation with my child.

Hoping that she wasn't trying too hard to label herself just yet, I tried to explain to her that while these personality traits are inherent in some people, it could also be more complex and fluctuate depending on the situation or even the personality type of the person you are with.      

Overall, what impressed me most was her tolerance for people's personal choices.  She felt that whatever type of sex people engaged in was their business, and as long as it made them happy, it didn't matter any to her. 

Now, I was raised in a very closed-minded environment.  It was an environment that judged anyone and everyone for being different.  And ultimately, it took years for me to get over all the negativity and stigmas, not just towards others but also myself.  How I was raised very much played into my inability to feel confident in experimenting sexually.     

I'm so proud of her open-mindedness.  Hopefully, what we have instilled will help her feel confident and supported in whatever choices she makes along the way.
     

One Hell of a Kinky Week

The natural ebb and flow of this dynamic is something I have come to understand and try to appreciate.  In fact, sometimes after weeks like this, I welcome the ebb.  But for now, we are happily enjoying the flow of things. 

I almost don't even know where to start...afraid my memory will start to get fuzzy before I have a chance to write it all down.  I had been spanked, edged, toyed with and used in so many ways, particularly for the last two days.  But let me start with the what happened this morning.

Holy smokes! It's been next to never since we actually got really kinky in the morning.  In fact, that might have never happened....EVER! Morning sex or blowjobs occasionally, but neither of us are morning people. Morning are usually spent running around trying to get ready for work during the week and soccer games on the weekend.  But let's just say I am certainly capable of being a kinky little slut any time of the day apparently.

Our eldest had already headed out for the day and I had just returned from dropping the munchkin off.  I came home to find Daddy making me breakfast.  What a wonderful treat and I commented on the amount of food.  He simply replied, You will be needing it.  Well, didn't that sound promising and a bit scary!

I excused myself and went upstairs to shower but by the time I came out, He had set up quite the scene in our bedroom with some of the workout equipment.  I have blogged about this pull up tower a couple times before.  Once again, it was front and center.  Oh...so many possibilities with this piece of equipment. Yet very few have actually involved working out:) 

Underneath the tower was a weight bench.  He stood intently, strapping the Hitachi onto the stand and told me to get a towel and lay it down on the weight bench and then lay down on it.



I went off to the closet, returning with the towel in hand, laid it across the bench and then laid down on my back, with my head positioned under the tower and my legs outstretched and hanging off the end.  He placed a chair at the end of the bench, just far enough away so that I could prop my feet on the arms of the chair.  Then, He proceeded to "strap" me down to the bench with rope just underneath my tits and a cloth belt around my midsection.

While He plundered through drawers and the toy cabinet looking for everything else He needed, I tried to relax. You know, years ago, when we would play around with any kind of bondage, the waiting used to frustrate me to no end, really would ruin the whole experience.  I was pretty impatient.  But I find myself really enjoying the anticipation now.  For me, it's part of the experience and I get lost in watching Him concentrate on getting everything just right.

Before long, He placed a spreader bar across the arms of the chair.  After putting cuffs on my wrists and ankles, He tied my legs wide open on the spreader bar and tied my arms to the side bars of the tower.  I was thinking oh....what fun this is going to be.  Spreader bar...Hitachi...must be my lucky day.  Really...one might think I would know better by now!! There's always more to it than just that.

I didn't even mind seeing the clover clamps come out or even having them attached to my nipples.  Well, that is until He attached them to rope...

...then dropped the rope over the top bar of the tower...

...then tied the rope to the middle of the spreader bar.

As Daddy positioned the Hitachi so that it was humming directly on my clit, He must have seen the look of panic on my face and calmly reassured me He had no intentions of pulling on the rope at all.

He flicked off the bedroom light, lit a couple of candles, and with that evil (but oh so adorable look) in His eye, He walked over and gently slid the chair out from under my legs.

With my legs suspended in mid-air, it all became so very clear.

No...He wasn't going to do anything to my nipples.  I WAS!!

Standing back with His arms folded, He watched me struggle to hold my position, desperate not to lower my legs, desperate not to pull on my nipples.  After a few minutes, my stomach and legs muscles started to burn and my whole body trembled.  I was so thankful when He kindly offered a reprieve.  All I had to do was ask for a rest.  But trying to prove that I could hold out, I waited a couple more minutes and then asked for Him to put the chair back. 

What I didn't realize was that there was a consequence for granting my request.  It only took a few smacks to the underside of my feet with the crop and I was bucking wildly, begging for Him to stop, willing to risk torturing my own nipples. 

He was all too glad to remove the chair at my request, but again, I could only hold my position so long.  This pattern repeated a couple more times, until He finally told me that if I wanted it all to stop, I only needed to cum for Him. Unfortunately, at this point, I was so over-stimulated, the Hitachi had become just a mere distraction. 

Knowing that I would need more, I begged for Him to use a dildo on me, which is exactly the added humiliation He had hoped for.  Stuffing it first in my mouth to get it wet, He then worked slowly inside me and then sped up the pace.  It didn't take but a couple of minutes before I had not only one but two really intense orgasms.  I had no idea how hard I was pulling against my nipples, and didn't care until the final ripples of my pleasure had subsided.  Then, the aching and cramping I felt all over my body was almost more than I could stand.   

Returning the chair back under my feet, He began the slow process of untying me.  Before letting me up, He pushing the dildo back in my mouth, insisting that I lick it clean and then told me to go lay in the bed and rest.

I laid there and couldn't help but admire the deep mark left where the rope had held me firmly in place.  Snuggling over on my side, I watched as He meticulously put everything away.  My body was hurting and exhausted but my mind was completely at peace.

What a way to start the day!!   

 

A Question of Title

I don't know how many others have experienced this, or how many people knew this about me, but I had such a hard time in the beginning referring to my husband as Master.  It was one of the most uncomfortable things I have ever had to make myself say.  Later, when He insisted on me calling Him Daddy, well that certainly didn't come any easier, probably harder in all honesty.  

I'm so glad one of my readers asked me about this the other day. He explained that his sub was very shy about calling him Master and he was wondering if I had ever felt this way.  This is absolutely something I can relate to and his question made me really stop and think about the reason why.

First off, as a child, I wasn't raised to use a names of respect such as Sir or Ma'am for anyone.  There were times my father would command me to call him Sir, but that was only when He was in a foul mood or mad at me. So...like any normal kid, I was pretty much like efff that! The way I looked at it, he had done little as a father to earn my respect and Sir WAS NOT coming out of my mouth just because he wanted to put me in my place at that particular moment.

So, I know for me, respect plays a big part. 

However, I think the biggest hurdle I had to overcome was that verbal acknowledgement of having a lower status. It was one thing for Him dominate me, humiliate me, and even say it himself but it was another for me to set my pride aside and say it myself.  

So what finally made it easier?

Well mostly writing it here in my blog.  Being forced to say it over and over again in the bedroom, when I was most vulnerable and pliable. also helped.  And really, I had called Him by His name or some other term of endearment for 20 years.  So learning to call Him something different just took time.  

Outside the bedroom though...He just isn't one to be overly concerned with titles. 

Thank you for the question!

A Moment of Glory

Gosh, I had been so incredibly aroused the last couple days.  You know the kind...horny to the p0int that it's painful for your jeans just to rub you the wrong (or maybe right) way.  I had been doing some research, I won't say about what just yet, but it hadn't gotten me in quite a state.  Of course, Daddy always knows when I'm like this.  Sometimes He cares, sometimes He doesn't but either way, I don't dare make a fuss about it.  I simply greet Him the same way I do every day when He gets home, with a kiss and by saying I am available for your pleasure.  Maybe it's the inflection or tone in my voice that gives me away.  

Last night, being that it was late once again by the time we made it up to bed, I asked if I could be of service, assuming that He would just request my assistance in some relief.  Much to my surprise, after spending some time using my mouth on Him, He ordered me to get undressed and get on top of Him.  Almost immediately after I had slid myself down on His cock, He pushed me off and told me to turn around and ride Him, facing the other direction. I guess this would be considered the "reverse cowgirl position", which we almost never use.  Not only does it just feel awkward like trying to write left handed, but I much prefer the closeness of being face to face. Honestly, I think He prefers it that way too.  

While it wasn't exactly what my greedy pussy was hoping for, it was obvious she was enjoying all the same as spanked me with a piece of rope He found in the bedside drawer while reminding me that my only job was to jerk Him off my pussy.  Pssst....just a little word of caution...getting spanked with rope really hurts!!

When Daddy was satisfied that He had made up for missing a couple days of maintenance spankings, He told me to get on my back.  As He pressed Himself down on top of me, He snaked His arm up between the bed and my back. Latching onto a fistful of my hair, He took what He wanted and gave me a bit of what I needed so badly.

Afterwards, as I was cleaning Him, He asked if I had enjoyed my few minutes of glory.  

Yes...Yes...I most certainly did and I am pretty thankful because I have a feeling He isn't feeling quite as generous today.  

Revisting Maintenance Spankings

This week brought the return of daily maintenance spankings.  And I suspect they will continue for some time.

When He gets home from work, I am to greet him as usual.  Either before we eat dinner or directly after, just depends on how hectic things are at the moment, I am to go upstairs in the closet, pull my pants to my ankles, and wait for Him and whatever implement He has chosen for that day. 

Much to my surprise, I received my maintenance yesterday as well, even though it was Saturday. He hadn't specifically made a provision for the weekends but I guess we are clear that this is a daily occurrence as long as He desires it to be.

Anyways, this week, I noticed something.  Actually, I had noticed it before but never wanted to ask about it. 

Friday evening, after coming in from from work, the kids were already gone with friends and the house was quiet.  He gave me that look and pointed for me to head upstairs.  I went in the closet, and as He had every day this week, He instructed me to pull my pants down and assume the position. 

And afterwards, just like every other day, when the spanking was done, He said for me to pull my pants back up and walked out without a touch of affection. 

Being that this was a Friday night and a night I am not usually expected to cook, He told me to get ready so we could go get dinner.  While we were out, I just had to know, not because I was questioning His methods but because I just really wanted to understand.  I sheepishly sat across the table from Him, stumbling around on my words, until He got frustrated and told me to just speak whatever was on my mind. 

Finally, I asked...what, if anything, does He get out these maintenance spankings??

I didn't really want to describe them as "cold" and "unfeeling" but that's kinda what it seemed like to me.  I know that I shouldn't place any expectations on His actions but I really started to wonder why there is no outward show of emotion from Him before, during, or directly after.  It all had the feel of a business transaction.

His explanation actually made perfect sense and was a perspective I hadn't even considered.  It's simply how He chooses to reinforce our roles and transition after being apart all day.  As far as the "unemotional" aspect, that is done with intention. 

The goal of maintenance is still very much about reconnecting, but for Him, maintenance isn't about play. It isn't about passion. It's about "I am the Master, you are the slave".

The Last Ten

Since today was election day, the kids were out of school. Naturally, that meant their friends had to sleep over last night.   Apparently, it was shaping up to be another night of no privacy for Heron and I, but it's that time of month for me anyways. 

Well at about 9:00, my younger daughter and all her friends decided they wanted big sister to take them to the ice cream shop down the road.  Cold as it's been, beats the hell out me why they would want to do that, but who's complaining?  It got them out of the house for a little bit. 

Heron wasted no time in sending me to fetch two very specific dildos and while He sat in front of the TV in our bedroom blasting heads off zombies, I was to kneel down beside His chair with the dildos upright on the floor and practice my oral techniques.  While humiliating on so many levels, I did as He requested and was excited when He released me to get my Hitachi.     

Now, as He continued playing His game, I was given permission to pleasure myself.  Before even the last spasm of my orgasm shook through my body, He insisted "Again".  The second one took a little longer but was even more powerful than the first.  Feeling perfectly relaxed and content, I would have been happy to stop at this point, but then He told me to continue until He said otherwise. 

I will admit, multiples never happen for me without the Hitachi.  But even still, I have to stop for a few minutes in between each otherwise I get completely over-stimulated.  That damn thing is one of God's gift to women I tell you.  Unless of course you are being tortured with it.  LOL

After about 30 minutes or so, the kids got back home and by that time, I was up to 5.  I thought that was pretty impressive considering how difficult it was to concentrate with the sound of guns blasting and zombie slaying happening only a few feet away.   

Obviously, now that the kids were back home, private time was over so after turning the game off, He leaned over me and asked me had I gotten to ten yet.   

Starting to get up from the floor, I told Him I had gotten to five.  He opened our bedroom door, turned the handle so it would be locked and told me I owed Him ten. 

I tried to question thinking He meant I owed Him a total of ten. But no, He clearly meant an additional ten.  Any meager efforts to protest fell on deaf ears as He left the room telling me to come get Him when I was finished. 

Normally, I might rush to judgement and feel a bit put off thinking that He was just leaving me to entertain myself so that He didn't have to.  But I understood His intention with leaving and that was to make sure the kids stayed away. 

Now, I'm certainly not going to complain because 15 orgasms is absolutely better than NONE and I am smart enough to know where complaining will get me.  And I do really love my Hitachi. 

But in all honesty, I would take one orgasm with Him over 15 with the Hitachi, any day.  

In the end, it took almost an additional hour to finish the last ten I owed Him and I was a bit embarrassed when He came in the room and looked over at the pile of soaked towels...because that's something else only the Hitachi can do!

Was there a coherent thought left in my head?

Um, not a chance!!   

And even if I had wanted to be upset for how bad my neck and arm were cramping, I didn't have one ounce of energy to care about anything except maybe falling flat on my face and going to sleep.

Tethered

I can't even begin to tell you how cold our first November weekend has been down here in the south.  Last weekend we were wearing shorts, this weekend, coats and scarves.  It is certainly safe to say, I am not ready for winter.

Despite the cold, last night Heron and I headed out for a quiet dinner alone.  He had instructed me to bring my little spiral notebook.  This notebook is actually supposed to be in my purse and with me all the time anyways.  It's sole purpose is to write any assignments He may have for me or any temporary rules/expectations.  These rarely go on my official list of rules but are in effect until He decides otherwise.

So after dinner, He asked me to pull out my notebook as He had some new rules for me.  As He listed them one by one, my heart started to sink and I could feel myself already fighting mentally at the thought of being back into such a state of control.  I know things have become relaxed but once I get used to that, it's really hard getting back in that frame of mind so quickly and abruptly.

Funny, he made the reference to us being "out of kilter" and we needed to put focus back on structure.  Thinking that He was making some reference to my last blog post and assuming all this new rule making was somehow my doing, I kind of scoffed and said oh, you must have read my post.  Actually, come to find out...he hadn't.  Hmmm, well at least our minds still think alike.

Nevertheless, I understand and appreciate His efforts to put our focus back on each other and the dynamic.  It's so easy with the day-to-day demands to make excuses for inconsistency and complacency.

So wish me luck...I see a bumpy ride for myself and lots of opportunity for mistakes until I get my head wrapped around it all.