The “Official” Blogaversary!

Well, isn’t that a hoot? WordPress sends a little “happy anniversary” greeting.  August 31, 2009…sometimes it seems like yesterday, you know? And then I think about all that’s gone on in my life, all that “growing up” one does when you get into this D/s thing for the long term. Yeah, it wasn’t really yesterday, else there’d be a hella lot of lessons learned that would be lost, right?

Like when we look back on our youth and say “gosh I so would not want to be 18 again”…I so would not go back to those perilous, wanton, abandoned days of 2009. I would have done anything with anyone, and yet I wound up with a Sir, who became my Master who turned out to be a good man, and a totally Dominant asshole, too. One who was perfectly suited to push and pull me through my stupidity, give me experiences I would never have dreamed of (they’ll NEVER believe me in the nursing home. They just won’t!) actually trying on my own.

Okay, maybe I dreamed about it, but he taught me how to push to the very edge and yet not fall over into oblivion. He is a ‘safe’ Dom, one of those rare men who knows what he’s doing to me AND for me. He pushes my buttons (all the time, still!) and he holds me safe, too.

Gee, this kinda sounds like a love letter instead of a blogaversary post, doesn’t it? I guess it’s both. The blog came first, but only barely. I was up on fetlife first, then decided what the hell, I’d write the blog I’d been thinking about for months. Write down all those fantasies, and spin tales of wild and sexy abandon. Suspension of belief? I’ve got ya covered!) Then Master wrote me a sassy email about my fet profile, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Thanks for all the years, peeps. The silent readers, and the frequent commentors who have hung in there. I need to make time for more sexy stuff. Can’t leave you all hanging forever now, can I? (go ahead, shoot me some stories that I’ve left you high and dry on and I’ll start working on them. PROMISE.

Now, in the nature of things, one of the first challenging things that I learned to do was posting for HNT. And yes, since I’m posting this before midnight,  it’s not quite Thursday yet. You might remember my dear friend David, a beautiful, sexy Dom who has since left this earthy plane. Thankfully, his amazing way with words live on, on his blog. He helped encourage me to post my first HNT, helped walk me through the process–how to upload a pic, how to get it into the post, all of that technical stuff that I was clueless about. Man, I was SO inept when I first started this gig!

So in honor of everyone who helped me get through the last 7 years of blogging, here’s a special HNT, one of my all-time favorites of my beloved Master and I.

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Well, Hmmm

Had an amazing and fun visit with the ever-entertaining Jz this weekend. We talked and laughed and lounged…something I rarely do (okay, I talk and laugh a lot, but lounging, not so much).

Wherein I was reminded (note I didn’t say ‘remonstrated’) for the reason for non-lounging was entirely of my own creation…

..because…I can’t say no.

And not because I’m a slut or a submissive or anything that would speak well of my status in the D/s world, my peeps.

Does that make me a saver (oh, they’re asking *me* because they know it will get done on time, properly, with all the connect-the-dots I’m infamous for?)…or an idjit who has no sense of self-preservation.

“I thought you were leaving that job, nilla…”

“um, er, I was but…”

“You said yes to WHAT??? And you’ve spent 20o hours this summer on it??? Are YOU NUTS??!”

Okay she didn’t say I was nuts. Er…well, you know Jz. She has an absolutely eloquent way of drawing one up short and blinking with nary a cuss word. Nope. She has class, friends, and a wit that makes you laugh even when you’re stopping to self-examine your head.

Yeah.

Why did I SAY YES. AGAIN?

Damned if I know. But from this point forward I’ll have her pointed look reminding me the next time someone pegs me as the perfect person to head up their project…and I’ll definitely be able to ‘just say no’….!

And despite all that, she still agreed to take me to my favorite Chinese place.

She’s a good ‘un, our Jz. A really enjoyably fun weekend– with a little nudge of redirection thrown in for good measure. I tell you, she has mad skillz. And even better? She’s a really great, caring, thoughtful friend.  Not everyone has a friend like that in their life.

 

Stopping by woods on a Summer Morning…

…with apologies to Robert Frost, no other title would really work.

We met. M and I, at long, long last. It wasn’t for play but for a short few hours, to talk and have coffee, in a little place in the woods right in the middle between our distant homes.

Oh, gods, He smelled so good. Spicy and rich and warm. His mouth, tender as he kissed me, his arms, strong as he held me for a moment or two or maybe longer. He fingered my hair, which is a very exuberant shade of purple just now, and hmmed over it. Didn’t hate the haircut (it’s grown back some since I lopped 6″ off several months ago).

We’re still hoping for a playtime in September if his body heals, if mine heals. I had a minor accident and the other kind of ‘heels’ won’t be in my future for a while. And since  M has his high-heeled slut-shoe fetish, (man, say that three times fast!) I have to get myself in shape for those damned things. (okay, they’re sexy as all get-out, but still…I feel catapulted into giantess stature when I’m suddenly wobbling around on those 6″ devils!) All that aside?

saw him.

Touched him. My hands on his cheeks, his beard, around his neck. On his thigh, his arm, fingers snaking into his hand, head leaning on his shoulder.

Sniffed him (stop giggling….not like a dog!…just …you know the kind of inhalation I mean, right?  (grins, blushing) Where you draw scent deep into your lungs and hold it, knowing nothing else will ever smell quite this wonderful?

Yeah, that kind of sniffing.

We’d hoped to have a day, but were happy to have the time that we did. It’s amazing what that contact does for a submissive slut. I’ve been patient, I’ve been sad, I’ve been mad, I’ve been up, and I’ve been frustrated. Sometimes, most of the time, life isn’t very fair.

(That’s another thing I’ve learned as a submissive, that it may not be fair, but so what? It’s his way, (or life’s way) and I better figure out how to deal with it because he for sure isn’t going to change his demands because I’m feeling pissy about them.

Sometimes stars align, schedules coalesce and a Master and his slut can have some face-t0-face time to say hey to one another.

And that, as Martha would say, is a very good thing indeed.

 

Things I Learned as a submissive

I was thinking tonight at work about how long I’ve been doing this…this D/s “thing” you could call it. I feel I can’t really call it a lifestyle in my particular case, since I don’t “live it” 24/7 with my Master.

And yet, we’ve been doing this now for 7 years, starting on year 8 in another few weeks.

My Master? Well, He’s a sadist–but he has compassion.

I remember a Dom I was with way at the beginning, and my son (and later I) came down with Swine Flu. He was very young and we stayed in isolation in our house so the baby didn’t get sick. He was so very ill, nearly hospitalized. I was getting less than 4 hours of sleep for days, becoming sick myself, and frankly? I was frantic that I was going to lose my child. During all that, I forgot some stupid protocol rule…and He was insistent that I was to be punished. I still recall how totally taken aback I was, at the total unfairness, at the uncaring attitude for a terrifying real-life situation that I was living in.

My Master is a sadist, but he cares about me. He rarely punishes me, (because I am usually a good girl!) but there are consequences for actions (or lack of actions). He would never make me choose between caring for my family and a rule. He has shown me that despite how wickedly he can and will hurt my body, that he has a wellspring of caring for the rest of my life, and how I have to balance the vanilla side with the (more fun) D/s side of things. He taught me that pain is counterbalanced with caring, that this thing we do is for many different kinds of pleasure.

I have learned patience (at last!!)..He will direct me to do something and ‘stay’ (yeah, kinda like a dog…!) and I will. He will make me wait for orgasms. (Wait and wait and wait for orgasms!) He gave me that gift (though it took me all of these 7 years to become more proficient at it!)

I have learned that pain and fear will make me wonderfully aroused, a combination that He uses to play me like an instrument.

I’ve learned that I’m not the only one feeling challenged by the things I need to do and the things I want to do, and that sometimes you just have to work through buckets of bullshit to make it work–the vanilla side of our lives will always be intrusive,(and rightly so–we shouldn’t let our sexy stuff affect the care of our families–‘Sorry Tommy, you can’t have dinner right now because my Master is making me stand in the corner’…er…no. That’s just not gonna fly!) and learning some kind of balance can only make us stronger.

I’ve learned that I have some really wicked fantasies that make me cum like I’m 18, but that I hope never come true…and that I’ll likely always be horny.

I’ve learned that no matter how this D/s thing works for me, it won’t be the perfect fit for anyone except for me. That there are those who will be horrified by my bruises, even while I’m excited again and again, and mourn just a little when they have faded away. This is true for any of us who do D/s in a public (of sorts) forum, such as blogging or twitter or whatever  your particular social media vice is. This thing we do? It’s weird and shocking, alarming, appears abusive, is sexual, sexy, dirty, nasty, raw, and in your face. So my way will not be like your way…and yet all of our ways are right, because they are right for our particular situation.

Lastly, I learned that this community, full of flux, of bloggers stopping and bloggers coming back and old timers and newbies…all of us support one another, care about one another, have each other’s back. We, most of us, have much to lose if our faces or names are known to the vanilla world, yet we continually bolster each other and hold our secrets safe. This space, my blog, your blog, this is safe space, where we can share our joys and concerns, brag about our bruises, share our orgasmic moments.

I’ve learned that my readers are kind and funny and dirty and sexy and fun. Thank you for reading, for sticking with me even in these days when I am often too busy to put fingers to keyboard to write.  I’m a few days away from my blogaversary, and feeling — feeling so good about this space I’ve had for so long. Through days of manic writing, and days with no energy to even feel sexy. It’s a roller coaster ride, to be sure. So hang on tight, or throw your arms upward with abandon…for here we go, ready for another year of fun!

 

Coulda, Woulda, Didn’t, Couldn’t

Coulda….

written another diatribe about not having time with him. Plans just keep falling through and on the one hand it kills me and on the other hand? I just slip more deeply into vanilla life and say fuckitall.

Woulda…

written something fun and sexy that popped into my head in the shower, but I didn’t have time, and now I’ve forgotten it, dammitall.

Didn’t…

know that one of my favorite bloggers, Kaya, lost her youngest child. It was shocking and sobering. She’s done with blogging for good, and who would expect elsewise? Her voice will be missed in the blogging world…she is likely one of the handful of people I read religiously when I first began this journey, and who bumped up my interest/horniness levels when she and her Master had intense sessions. The shock I felt at her loss has me hugging my little ones close, and reminds me to never take anyone for granted. Ever.

Couldn’t…

write last night as we lost power and we all wound up in bed early, hiding from thunderstorms that raged and howled outside. No property damage, but noise and rain rain hail and rain for hours. And of course it happens on a night when I DO have time to write…and no electricity to make it happen.

I’ll try to eke out more time so this isn’t a wasteland of “what used to be”…and hopefully, keep your fingers crossed, M and I will spend a day together next weekend. Not playtime, He has been dealing with an injury that is plaguing him most persistently, but time to be together will be so lovely.

Peace out, peeps. And go fuck someone will ya? Make it hard and fast and wonderful and smutty and wet and juicy. Do it for me, willya? Life is short and sex is good.

Yeah, sex is AWESOMELY good.

So stop reading and go do it.

 

 

 

Untangled

So we have moved from that tangled mess to a smoother place. Maybe not 100%, but He has said that he’ll work on the main issue that I brought to him.

We’re talking again, on the phone, and …it’s been good. He made me laugh yesterday, first smile in weeks, it seems.

Did he see my blog? Or did my last, desperate text message finally help him understand how very close I was to just saying ‘fuck it, i’m done’.

I won’t have another Master. It’s him or no one for me. Too old to try to settle in with someone else. Too busy, too set in my ways, too entwined with M’s ways to think about starting all over again. Can I live without D/s?

Of course.

I wouldn’t love it, but it wouldn’t end me.

I’d still have prurient fantasies to share, but no, if M and I ever did part ways, that would be it for me in the D/s world. Does that shock you, that a person could be a one-Dom submissive? Sometimes it shocks me, yet I cannot imagine submitting to anyone else. I know others who feel the same, and I think it may be in part due to our to age, and partly because of our lengthy relationship with our same Dominant. (not saying we HAVE the same Dom, but that we’ve each had “our” dom for a long time)

And while it may not be impossible for someone else, my life is hugely time-challenged just now, and I can’t see a place where I could squeeze in time with “someone else”.  gosh knows it’s been hard enough finding any time with M…

And the thought of it..*pauses, bites lip, stares up at the ceiling for a moment*…I….can’t wrap my head around it really..

So tonight I’m glad I don’t have to go down that path in my head. Don’t have to worry about anything other than I lost my O this week because I was too mad to do prep on Monday night, and thought ‘fuck it’.  My own sense of right wouldn’t let me even consider taking an O after he’d declared some weeks ago ‘no prep, no o the next night’–I am, in my deepest heart, a good submissive.

Even when it’s hard.

Even when He was a jerky asshole Dom who was ignoring me.  Even when he made me cry. Because at the heart of it all? I want to be His good girl.