Who Complains about Such Things?

I started this post a few weeks back and never quite got around to finishing it.  No time better than the present since I'm not getting any relief right now.  He sure knows how to keep me guessing and I have always said He is a man of extremes.  And in this case, either he's giving more than I can handle (many times by my own hand) or none at all!!  sigh

So several weeks ago, this was one of my assignments...

Five orgasms before Daddy gets home from work.

Well this is no easy task given that I get home from work only about an hour before He does and I'm typically busy cooking dinner.  But this particular day, the kids were out, so I thought maybe I stood a chance.  That is until I walked in the house to find my mother anxiously awaiting my attention like one of the children. Eventually, I faked a headache so that I could disappear upstairs  Really, in my own home as a middle aged woman...it's quite ridiculous that I have to lie to my mother to get some privacy. 

Not long after getting started, with only one orgasm under my belt, my phone rang.  The youngest was ready to be picked up.  Dammit! I quickly squeezed in one more before running out of the house.  After getting back, I set her to task working on homework and ran upstairs grabbing the hitachi and dildo and managed to squeak out number three just after I heard the garage door go up, signaling that Daddy had just arrived home from work.

FAIL!!

I tried to explain that I just ran out of time.  He wasn't pleased but He understood.

So let's fast forward to the next day's assignment...

Five orgasms before Daddy gets home from work plus the two I owe from the day before.     

Without me having to say a word, He was already sensing my resistance or at least that's what He interpreted it to be.

You are the only person I know that would complain about cumming TOO much!

It's not that I was complaining.  But I thought He understood about the two from the day before.  Apparently, I should have asked to complete the assignment later, maybe after everyone went to bed.  Urgg...I thought about that...really I did but wrongly assumed that I wouldn't be granted that opportunity.

And what I was feeling wasn't so much resistance as it was frustration.  Sometimes I start to feel put off, like maybe He doesn't desire me.  I know with out a doubt this isn't the case and am reminded of it all the time, but when I'm really tired or my emotions start getting the better of me, that's just the direction my mind goes.  On top of that, if I couldn't do it five times the previous day, why did He think I could do it seven today?

And let's not forget to mention that it's just plain aggravating when there are people I have to dodge and other responsibilities pulling me in different directions.  

But despite my own issues, I came home and got to business, resolved to not let Daddy down this time.  And luckily, the kids were occupied.  It took every bit of an hour but this time when I heard the garage door go up, it pushed me over the edge of my seventh and final orgasm.

Whew...MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!  

But little did I know, that was not all He had planned for me that night.... 

 

 

And The Torment Begins...

A few months back, Heron had instructed me to order a dildo of a particular variety.  I've mentioned this dildo in passing couple times, but out of embarrassment, I've avoided going into further detail. But I figure at this point, what the heck...it's just a dildo, right?

So here goes...

I was to buy one resembling...ahem...a dog cock.  Well, at the time, I was absolutely horrified but I finally got up the nerve and found one online called the Wolfman. It maybe wasn't exactly what He had in mind but it did fit His criteria. A suitable compromise in my mind I thought.

Over the past few months, this is pretty much the only one He has allowed me to use.  You know...to add to the whole humiliation factor. Somehow I think He was oddly, but pleasantly, surprised and fascinated by the fact that I didn't mind using it. 

What can I say?  It's huge!  And it didn't take long to realize that the shape didn't really matter but the size sure did! 
 
Well, today, I was to meet Heron at His office for lunch.  But I also was given special instructions to bring "wolfie" as He likes to call it.

Behind the locked door of His 10th floor office, we ate our lunch and then shortly thereafter He asked if I had brought what He told me to.  I retrieved it from my bag, and set it on His desk.  He pulled a ruler out of His drawer, measuring off two inches.  That is all I would be allowed to have.

After telling me to stand and get undressed, He walked around the desk and sat down in the chair where I had just been sitting. He's such a sight in His business attire. It never fails to make me a bit weak.

I was keenly aware of people in nearby offices but when He motioned to the floor, I knew this was the signal to lay down and get to business.

I worked the measly little 2 inches into my pussy wishing more than anything I could have more. But that would not be the case, and in the end, my efforts would be futile anyways. As discussed in my last post, there will be no pleasure for me..

He sat watching with the biggest grin on His face which was a bit unnerving.  I couldn't help but ask, "Why the big grin?Why are you enjoying this so much?"

I wanted to be mad at His reply but He looked too damn handsome. He reached down, taking the dildo from my hands and continued working it in and out, remaining mindful of the two inch limit He imposed.

I'm enjoying this...because you can't!  

Fleeting Thought

This past weekend, I was thankful to feel so deliciously sore and sated.  It had been a couple weeks since feeling Heron's touch or receiving any pleasure myself, other than orally servicing Him of course. So He made sure that I was quite indulged.  Two days in a row even!

But of course, there always that moment when I realize such luxuries come at a price and this time was no exception.  As I laid on the bed, still soaking up His full attention and affections, He explained my impending doom. 

A period of extended denial that would begin at the conclusion of the weekend. Now how long, I don't really know.  I assume weeks, maybe a month.   

I kick myself though because no matter how many times I've been here before, it remains difficult to still my thoughts to this situation. Rather than continuing to enjoy the moment, my mind had already jumped ahead to the "what's to come". But I suppose that's part of what He enjoys...feeling me mentally squirm, watching as the panic sets in while He describes all the ways He intends to torment me in the (un)coming weeks.

Surely, allowing me several orgasms over the weekend would at least help during the first few days of my going without but it is most certainly NOT.  It's not often that I get to enjoy the full pleasure of His body and mouth, and now it's all I can think about.  Then that little voice in my head reminds me that constant craving will not be quenched any time soon.  

My brain is already such a jumbled mess, and even though I'm supposed to be preparing for this week's "story time", I can't put anything reasonable together with the distraction of this throbbing between my legs. 

While pillaging the internet last night, hoping to find inspiration for my upcoming story, I even considered breaking the rules and touching myself.  The pictures really did me in. 

He wouldn't have to know...obviously a fleeing thought, but a thought nonetheless.

I know He's got me right where He wants me.  I'm just not exactly sure where that is and what He intends to do with me.

He Is My Constant

I hated that I haven't posted in a little while.  Guess with the holiday season quickly approaching, time is getting away from me and so are the number of shopping days for that matter. 

Admittedly, I have just felt a bit down in the dumps lately.  The Christmas spirit has been slow to make a move on me this year.  It's not that I am a bah-hum-bug or anything.  Really, I do love the holidays.  Spending time with the people that are important to me is what I love.

What I find frustrating is that the important things tend to get lost with the hustle to run from one gathering to another and frantically shop for presents.  Well, you all know the drill.

Every year, I tell myself I will start earlier next year but late fall is absolutely the busiest time of year at work so it just never seems to happen. 

The holidays are also just a sad reminder of a huge gap in my life and a reminder that my family is broken in so many ways.  Not mine and Heron's relationship and our kids, but the family I grew up with.  Gatherings are forced and awkward, never warm and loving, never full of laughs and great memories.

Something else that hasn't helped is that we are now in the fifth year of my mother living with us.    Apparently, this year she decided to start decorating MY house her way...which hasn't helped my frustration level one bit. I did say that I was extremely controlled as a child, right? And now that she's trying to do it in my own house...well, let's just say, I have honestly been about to blow a gasket. 

Heron is wonderful though.  He is the constant in my life.  And when all else is haywire, it's His love, support and guidance that keeps me sane.   

So finally, yesterday I forced myself to get my decorations out and take over what had already been started.  The house looks beautiful and I'm feeling more in the spirit. 

Now, if I could just get motivated to finish the shopping!!  

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.

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!!

Who Can You Talk To?

Thank you to one of my readers for sending me some questions to write about.  My motivation to write lately has been in the toilet as I have been spending an over abundance of time researching and implementing a paleo diet for the family.  Well, truthfully, it's mostly for Heron and I.  The kids get to still eat of some of the stuff they like.  But overall, it takes ALOT of work.  Maybe I will post more about it later.

Anyways, this reader was curious about our dynamic in the company of others.    

Well, the short version is that we are almost always in the company of others but mainly family, neighbors, or other parents at soccer events so our dynamic is pretty well discrete.  There may be certain things between us that only we know the meaning but mostly no one would catch on. It could be as simple as wearing my hair a particular way, waiting for him to begin eating first, or walking just slightly behind him.  Regardless of who is around, I always stop what I am doing and greet him.  When speaking to him, or about him, it's always respectful.  Yes, it's possible that someone could pick up on the hints of power exchange between us, but I'm not overly concerned about it because hopefully it just comes off as me being a loving and attentive wife.

Is there any element of D/s when you two go out with another couple?

We have never been much for going out with other couples.  Unfortunately, both of us kind of lost our youths early and because of that, didn't maintain many friendships into adulthood. There have been times through the years it has really bothered me...that we didn't have a group of friends to hang out with, go to dinners or get our families together for cookouts.

We did meet a couple through FL about a year ago and have gone out with them several times.  Even though they are fully aware of our dynamic and are very accepting, they are not in the dynamic themselves, so we have felt it best to keep it low-key in front of them so as to not place them in any uncomfortable situations, other than maybe Him ordering for me. 

Are any of his friends aware of the dynamic? Are any of yours?

I am going to assume that this question is referring to friends outside of the lifestyle. 

Heron does have one friend that knows and has shared quite a bit about our dynamic with him.  In fact, when I first started my blog, Heron gave him the address and he has been keeping up with it since!

I, on the other hand, really don't have any friends that I consider close enough to share this part of my life. I lost touch, way back when with all my friends from school and even though there have been several good friends since then, they have all come and gone out of my life for one reason or another.  As a manager, I am not afforded the ability to make friends and confide in anyone at work.  For the most part, my circle of girlfriends the past decade or so has been the moms of my daughters friends.  And I find I don't really have much in common with any of them. Plus it tends to get awkward the moment when your kids get into a fight or simply outgrow each other and no longer hang out. So, I tend to now steer away from hanging out with them. My dynamic isn't something I would have ever shared with them anyways because they seem to be a gossipy bunch and I certainly would never want my child judged for my activities.

If my little sister was still here, I suspect I might have shared it with her.  She lived her life pretty wide open and would never have judged me for anything.  Knowing her, she probably would have thought it was pretty cool.  I can't even begin to tell you how much I miss having her to talk to. 

Do you have an external confidant that you can bounce things off of?     

Luckily, I do have a couple of ladies that I have met through the lifestyle.  If I needed to talk about something, they would listen and give me honest feedback from their perspective.  Through my blog, I have also made some online acquaintances, both male and female, which have helped tremendously and they are always just an email away.   

Lick It

You know how well you have been conditioned to obey orders when He makes a shake, takes apart the blender to wash it, and tells you to lick the blade clean.

And the thought doesn't occur until after you have stuck out your tongue (like an idiot)...

What the hell did He just ask me to do?

Of course, He just thought that was so funny!

 

Lazy Days and Questions About Clothing, Marriage, and the Future

Yesterday was a much needed, lazy day. We accomplished absolutely nothing that we had intended...both kinky and non-kinky. But it was nice...and makes me think about a couple questions that have come up recently about our dynamic.

I was out with some fellow kinky ladies one night last week and one of my friends asked about mine and Heron's relationship. I can't remember the exact wording of her question but it was about the husband/wife aspect of our relationship. She wondered if we ever spent time as husband and wife, outside the dynamic, and were my needs being met in that regard.

Also, I had received an email a couple weeks ago from one of my blog readers asking about my clothing requirements. The question was..."When not at work, do you always abide by your rules of always wearing revealing clothing? Is this a hard-line must have for him".

So let me start with the second question first because it is a little more straightforward to answer.

My clothing requirements are very much determined by the situation.  Generally speaking, He likes that I am wearing something somewhat revealing when He gets home but with the kids around, it also has to be kept reasonable,  During the summer it's fairly easy.  Tank tops, sundresses, shorts...all easily meet the no bra and panty expectation without being overtly obvious.  During winter, He is a little more lenient because I am so cold natured and walk around with jackets and sweaters most of the time.     

Now as far as going out, He will tell me if it's the kind of outing that I should be wearing something in particular. (ie. trashy).  But many times, if we are just running out to grab something to eat, He is fine with whatever I am already wearing.  Not every time and every place we go is meant to be a test of my exhibitionism.  Sometimes, He just wants to take me out to spend time together, nothing more.  The key is not to assume.  IF I am in doubt, I will ask if what I am wearing is ok or should I change into something else.     

So, to answer the question...No, it's not a hard-line must have for him every time we go out.

Which brings me to the original question about our husband/wife time together.  I know when writing a blog, much of it sounds so awesomely kinky but the reality of it is, that kink is probably only about 10% of our life, if that.  The D/s is always there, a part of who we have become together, a part of how I view myself, and mostly a part of how I guide myself in thinking and behaviors.  While I am submissive all the time, we are not always engaged in obvious D/s activities.

Now, there are times when the dynamic is more active and stronger than other times, but we are married first and foremost.  And while the D/s has now become woven into the fabric of our marriage, it doesn't define our marriage.  

Yesterday is a great example.  We spent the day together taking a nap, cooking, drinking a night time coffee under the stars, and doing nothing more than snuggling.  Well...ok...there was that afternoon blowjob just before the nap.
 
Are my needs being met as as a wife?

Absolutely and I think more so now than ever before!  Sometimes in my writing, Heron probably comes off as, shall we say, not so nice, and quite frankly during some scenes I haven't thought He was very nice either. But I assure you, He is as equally gentle and romantic as He is sadistic, and quite possibly even more so.  Yes...He sometimes denies me immediate gratification in the physical pleasures that I think are needs, and it aggravates me sometimes, but I realize He does this for a reason and it's always temporary.   

And the tender love making type of sex, well for some reason those are the moments I tend to keep to myself.  I blog about so many aspects of our relationship, I feel like a little part of us should remain private.  But for those of you that might have wondered, we do have those beautiful non-kinky sessions too and they are equally fultilling. I have to admit though, sometimes it catches me off guard and I'm like...is everything OK? Why are you being so nice? LOL

You know, before we ever incorporated this lifestyle into our marriage, we basically "existed".  We were content to function in our own little bubbles, our paths crossing occasionally. But were we happy?  Not really.  I could never shake the feeling that part of me and our life together wasn't being fulfilled.  

Our lives had become so consumed by our kids (and my incessant power struggle over every little thing), we had completely neglected to nurture what brought us together in the first place.  Our love for each other.  I remember wondering so often...would we even like each other when our kids are grown?  Would we even have anything in common?  I couldn't think of anything we liked to do together.  Pretty sad isn't it?

Now, all we crave is MORE time together and genuinely enjoy being in each others company. I think this is the connection we were missing before.  D/s taught us that it can be more...that we can be more.  And all it took was focusing more on us.  We have found so many things that we love doing together.  Get your minds out of the gutter-I was talking about non-kinky things. 

Even though it was a lazy day yesterday, we did manage to get out for a few minutes to run to the grocery store.  We were in the car driving home and I asked Heron what did He think would happen to our dynamic as we grow older.  I worry about that sort of thing.  It has brought us so much closer, what happens as we continue to age and maybe can't indulge in the physical play? Will He be as attentive and happy with me?     

His answer was all I needed to put my mind at rest.

We just enjoy each day for what it is.  And if there comes a point, that all of it has to end, the only thing that I need to be happy...is spending every day with you.

And He was concerned that He said something wrong when I started to cry!

As Time Flies

Earlier today, I was sitting drinking my coffee, waiting on my oldest daughter to finish getting ready.

Getting ready for what?...you may ask.

Senior portraits!

And being the sap that I am, I had to fight back tears the whole morning.

It's all happening so fast.  This year is already flying by and I feel paralyzed by the fact that in less than a year, she will be in college.

How can this be?  How can my little baby be such a grown young woman?

How am I old enough to have a child going into college? And let me just tell you, I am really struggling with that one!

The other day, I received an email with a reminder to be visiting colleges while out on Fall Break.  It really felt like a kick in the gut.  Logically, I know we need to be doing this already but it was the reality of it that hit me so hard.  

Holy crap...college applications are due in just a few short months.  We are more than halfway through September.  This year is going to be over before I know it.  

null-entity.deviantart.com

Senior pictures today...

Cap and gown fittings next week...

And soon, all the other joys that senior year brings!

It's all happening whether I want it to or not.

But all I see every time I look at her is the beautiful little girl we brought into this world,  And while I so look forward to seeing what life has in store for her, I just wish time would slow down, even if just for a little while.

For Your Pleasure

It was time to pay the piper so to speak.  I mentioned in one of my earlier posts, that I had inadvertently neglected some of my chores.  To be more specific, I had not been washing the cars and had not been as diligent as I should about the toilets.

Just to clarify, the cars...well there isn't much I can say except that there never seemed to be enough time and if there was, the weather seemed to be gloomy.  Honestly though, Daddy had been pretty lenient on that and I probably took a little advantage.  Now the toilets...well that was a matter of failed delegation on my part.  Let's just say, you better believe those girls of mine are not going to get me in trouble again.

So punishment came.  I entered the closet, stood facing the wall in display position and took my swift twenty licks of the paddle, not fun ones by any stretch of the imagination.  My cheeks wore the red rounded imprint of the paddle for hours. 

But also in the closet was a strange contraption.  In reality, it was a microphone stand he rigged for kinky purposes.  I don't know how easy it will be to picture in your mind but it stood a little taller than myself  and looked like a large T.  Daddy had looped twine around each arm the T and left a couple feet of twine hanging on both the front side and back side.

My eyes couldn't help but travel to the two ends of twine where the clover clamps were fastened.  

The look of THAT is pretty scary!

Oh, there's nothing to be scared of.

Hmmm...me thinks differently...

As I remained facing the wall of the closet, with my hands clasped behind my back, He positioned the stand right up behind me and brought one of the pieces of twine, with attached clover clamp, down over my shoulder and attached it upside down to my nipple.  Then did the same for my left nipple.  Obviously, I wondered what he would do with the two ends of twine still dangling over the back side of the stand.

Well, that was answered soon enough when I heard the jingle of weights. I tried to remind myself to  to breathe as the twine grew taunt and the full force of gravity pulled down from behind me, pulling  my nipples upwards. I think it's pretty fair to say this was somewhat uncomfortable!

Daddy walked around to my side and placed a ping pong ball against the wall.  He told me to lean forward, my own body weight now also pulling against the clamps, until my nose could hold the ball in place.

I thought He would just have me hold this for a few minutes.  But as He walked out of the closet, He reminded me that the ball BETTER NOT FALL and He would be back to check on me periodically during His workout....and add weight each time He returned.  Gulp

I stood there thinking is this really happening?

Then I heard the sound of the elliptical start up and the squeaking sound it makes while someone is on it and I had my answer.

Yep...it sure is.  I didn't know whether to be upset or think it was hot.   

At first, all I could think about was how my nipples felt like they were on fire and I tried so hard not to move a muscle.  But I also thought how silly I must look with this darn ball.  Eventually, my mind kind of wandered, focusing less on the pain, and more on why I was in this situation in the first place. I thought about how I would try harder and not take any of my chores for granted. 

I had no way to count the time but I figured it was somewhere around 5 minutes when I heard the elliptical stop.  Maybe He was just testing me and not going to put on more weight.  Maybe He was coming in to let me loose.

Nope!  That was not the case. 

At this point, the pain was pretty steady, but tolerable, and actually, I barely felt the additional weight.  I tried to ask Him how much longer and was disappointed when He ignored me and returned to His workout.  While He was gone this time, I thought more about the stupid little ball in front of me.  Toying with it, rolling it around just a little but not enough to make it fall.

Again no words when spoken when He returned, only the rattle of more weight and I don't remember feeling much at that point, in fact, I was getting pretty sleepy.  There were no thoughts, just waiting.

This time when He returned, He spoke.  It was gruff as He told me to back up and turn around.  I winced as the clovers pulled against the direction I was moving so He moved the stand with me.  Once He had direct access to my nipples, He took the ball and shoved it between my teeth.  This ended up being a really good idea because when those clovers came off it helped muffle my screams and sobs.  Wow...did that extra weight make it so terribly painful as they blood rushed back in.

Immediately, He plunged His hand down between my legs...

That's what I thought...

You can stop that crying.

The spanking was your punishment...

The last 20 minutes has been for your pleasure.  

And here I thought the whole thing was punishment!

But Am I Really a Masochist?

A recent email conversation with someone the other day made realize that maybe I haven't spent much time discussing my thoughts on the use of pain in our dynamic or exactly how I feel about it.

She, in fact, thought of me as a hard core spanko. Now, I can take my fair share of spankings, but I mainly attribute that to a certain amount of conditioning since they are frequently used in our dynamic.  Not that it stops Him, but I really despise any type of pain inflicted on my tits and other girly bits. 

But her comment has made me really think about what I am or am not...and I am pretty confused. 

The definition of a masochist is someone that derives pleasure from feeling pain and I've read about plenty of writings in which the writer is trying to find understanding in WHY they find enjoyment in receiving pain.  It seems the prevailing opinion is not to worry about the "why"...just go with the flow and accept it for what it is.

The problem is...I can't even say that I like pain.  Heron tells me there is some aspect there that I like since my body responds favorably.

But am I really a masochist?

I can tolerate all types of pain...hell, I had both my children naturally without the epidurals or any other medication.  But I don't LIKE pain and before D/s I would have considered myself anything but a masochist.

When I really think about it, there are aspects of receiving the pain that I like, but I don't believe it's the pain itself.  

To be honest, I am a bit of an attention whore so obviously I love being the center of His attention.  Could it be like the old saying...any attention is better than no attention?

I do love and crave the intensity between us that it creates.  It doesn't take much before my head is clear and my stress is gone, and once He has pushed me to a certain point, it's like the dam breaks and everything walled up inside comes pouring out in my tears.  In those vulnerable moments, the connection and intimacy is undeniable.

Admittedly, His desire to inflict pain runs much deeper than my desire to receive it but I feel a part of myself is complete knowing that I am finally fulfilling a need in Him, a sadistic side that He had buried for a long time because of me.   

And the rare occasions, when He intermixes pain with pleasure does create for an amazingly intense experience!

I am not including punishment in this discussion because that has a whole different end result and I find it in no way enjoyable.    

But does all of this truly make me a masochist? 

That's what I've been trying to sort out.  If not, then why does my body react the way it does? Why does it literally get my juices flowing?  Why do I have amazingly intense orgasms afterwards?

Maybe I am just failing to understand the complexities of masochism. 

I read something recently to the effect of you don't have to enjoy pain to be a masochist, you only have to crave it.  Well I do sometimes crave it, but it's typically a short lived feeling.  Because as soon as He starts, I am usually wishing it would stop.  I don't do well with intense or prolonged pain and I don't experience sub-space,,,I am consciously aware of everything going on and I feel every bit of it.  There are no floaty feelings for me. 

So, am I really craving the pain or is it the connection?

Have I just been conditioned to receive the pain?

A lot of questions...I know.
  
The only thing I can figure is that I submit to the pain, just like anything else that I have given up control over in our relationship and my body's response to it has more to do with my feelings of submission and His exertion of power over me, not the pain itself.

Maybe I'm talking myself in circles here. I would love to hear your thoughts or experiences.