Saturday, 29 September 2012

Glimpse of Our Normal


Last night, I was bathed in ease.
Everything we had been talking about or working on was present but it didn't matter.

I like gestures we use that have so much symbolic meaning.
 When, with only a little effort on both our parts, it is crystal clear who is in charge

Horace was saying, "We'll figure it out but we're good."
And I was sitting at his feet.
He was tugging on my hair, messy and hastily thrown back in a bun.
I leaned towards him, wanting him to yank my hair.
 Strange.
It is amazing how we can adapt and I caught myself thinking last night,
"This is our normal"
There really is nothing better than being where I was. I felt focused, in that submissive-mindset.
Not only could Horace do whatever he wanted to me, I was fervently hoping he would.
Isn't it fun and kind of silly that its the little things that have so much impact?
But the strangeness of course, comes from me still trying to wrap my head around it.
Really, if you had told me ten years ago that I would be sitting at my husband's feet, contemplating how that signifies his authority, his dominance and my submission, I would have laughed at you and I wouldn't have stopped laughing for a very long while.
During these moments when I was in submissive contentment, Horace threw around a word he's been using a lot lately, "obedience."
Oh yeah.
That calls for a few more posts because, there is a tiny part of me that is still laughing at hearing that word.

Have a nice weekend!

*
Image Source: Crimson and Black 






Friday, 28 September 2012

Friday Fragments: Reset


I have a hard time when it feels like things are stagnant. 
Horace knows this, but to him, things aren't stagnant they are calm,it is still water. 
I don't know how to do calm, cool and collected. 
And I can only take so much of having things leveled and at a even keel for so long. 
 That is a pretty weird concept to try and explain to someone who always embodies calm waters. 

Don't get me wrong; I love l'heure bleue status. I love that things between us are calm and leveled and at a even keel. 
But outside of that, I can only take the calm and still water for so long; when it comes its refreshing and soothing and relaxing. 
But I need a little bit of chaos. I need a little drama and I need to be challenged. I need to feel that what I offer is being utilised and I need to have challenging work to focus on. 


Horace knows this but we got lulled..because we had great stretches of l'heure bleue. And to Horace that is perfect. He doesn't do emotional drama. I think it would be pretty scary if he ever tried it on for size. 
This is what drives a lot of our dynamic and I like that. 
One thing I really like about my husband, is his incredible strong sense of self. When he has an idea, or reaches a decision on something, he doesn't waver on it. He doesn't, for one millisecond let doubt or fear or anxiety creep in. He is damn sure of his place in the Universe. 
The universe and I? We're still working on it.

I like that it was very, very clear from the beginning that he would not put up with me merely acting out to get a reaction or attention. In other words, we do not have 'brattiness' as a factor in our dynamic.
 I'm emotional enough.

Sometimes, I think its easy to forget it can be simple personality clashes that are causing things to be off centre and it's nothing more than that

So we didn't realise that I was feeling anchor less and in flux. 
I trust Horace to make the decisions. I know he will take my input and feelings into consideration. 
He sees the process of making those decisions as movement. 
I view it as things being stalled. 
It isn't possible for him to let me in on his thought-processes that leads to the decisions, as he is in the process of making them.
That --and yes I've said it before, is asking a rock to be a tree. 
I didn't realise I was asking for something he couldn't give me. 

He would never want to change me. 
He likes our contrasts, he likes that more often than not, I'm an emotional stew. 
But I was trying to curb my emotions. Until I couldn't. Until they erupted.
I thought, he was asking a rock to be a tree. 
He wasn't. 

I actually need some kind of resistance, at least a little bit. 
I need to break the wall down and come through the other side; that's my sense of accomplishment. 
When I don't have that, invariably I search for something to stand in and it ends up being Horace. 

It is acceptable for me to rant, rave, freak out about anything under the sun, whatever has railed my acute sense of righteousness and fairness and justice and rattled my screwed tenet of loyalty. 
It is not acceptable for me to take that--because there is no where else to go, no other wall to break through at the moment-and open the emotional floodgates on my husband in an all out emotional yelling/thrashing/screaming/freaking out fit. 

Yeah maybe an old issue that I've written about before but we've defined the reasons behind it and have come up with a way to curb it. 

Now when or if I start, from the very first word that is directed at him in that emotional-chaotic-frenzy, he is to say one word. That word is a warning. A sign that lets me know I am dangerously close to going off the road. 
If I continue, after he has given me that warning there is a consequence. Has this happened before? Yes. 
Has he corrected/punished me for it before? Yes.
What's the difference now? I'm not sure other than we have defined it. 

On the whole: I know what behaviour is acceptable and what isn't. I don't need a list of posted rules or Horace to remind me everyday. I know what he expects and I know if I falter, Horace will correct me. If he thinks its worst than what warrants a simple correction, he will punish me. 
But the how he chooses to correct me and how he chooses to implement the punishment, is up to him. Oh, I know the options but its not a case of "If you do Y this will happen" because honestly, if it was that kind of structure, I don't think I would take notice---or I would shrivel. And I also don't think that would leave Horace with a lot of room...room for him to choose how severely he wants to make his point or displeasure known. 

However, in the case of the above, because this a behaviour that needs to be corrected, a habit (even though it doesn't happen all the time...its not daily or anything) that needs to be broken, it is a case of "If you do this you will get X". 
And X is pretty harsh. X is not in the normal options. X is a very strong deterrent. X is not something I would get any pleasure or satisfaction from. 

This is new to us. I'm not sure if adding a couple of new things (protocols) to our system is going to work or how... we haven't been here before...at least not for a very long time. 

If it wasn't for our ability to communicate, none of this would have been brought to light. And I love that: I love that our marriage is important enough to both of us that we are both willing to risk looking at it, dissecting it, adding to it and leaving the parts that don't need to be fixed alone...harder for me, that.
All of that gives me a little bon courage to trust tweaking and adding a new element or two..its going to be all right.


Monday, 24 September 2012

Our Language of D/s: Part One


(Could be more than one part to this theme)

Basic steps in learning a language, usually happen in some in kind of order. First you hear it, then speak it, then read it and write it, though you can jump around a little bit in the order, practicing at each new level, blending the known with the new.
For me, I need to hear it spoken repeatedly and read it at the same time.
 In the past, I have found it helpful to speak with people who are more fluent in the language than I am.

D/s is a language onto itself, constructed and created by the two of us.
And though we move around from level to level, I think for the most part, we are still at the basic steps of hearing it and speaking it.
Some days, I think my husband is pages ahead of where I am and he's not only writing in this language but further developing it.
We had an intense examination and talk about where we were with this language.
Similar to other languages, we borrow terms and existing roots and apply them to the use and context.
Words like, "respect', "authority", "disobedience" and "submission" were used during this discussion.
Words that I am familiar with but definitions I find myself-still- grappling with in this context.
To my surprise, the more advance speaker in the language, pointed out that I am more fluid in this language outside of our home.
When we are out in public together, I don't struggle over meaning, pronunciation or inflections of tones, or cadences.
The language comes smoothly to me. I don't hesitate in putting it into motion.
Automatically, I defer to my husband. I anticipate his needs and do it all without being asked, in a seamless, timely fashion.
At home, there has been a break down of some basic components when I go to speak this language.
There is a slight discord somewhere in the fluidity of the usage.
It might be that some bad habits have crept in, it might be that we have both become more passive listeners and speakers at home than when we are out in the world.
Refresher of the basics, more practicing needed.

Saturday, 22 September 2012

Happy Autumn Equinox

"And I'll kneel down
Wait for now
And I'll kneel down
Know my ground"
Mumford and Sons Youtube link


Love this time of year.
For us, this fall is shaping up to be pretty busy with a whole cascade of events coming up and even though I don't always like the crowded gatherings, I am excited at the possibilities this year's crop of events will present.

Being attached to someone who does the balance thing supremely will in all areas of their life, can be a little annoying at times for someone like me, who tends to wear their emotions on their sleeve and wants to go as soon as the thought enters my mind and says, “Here, try this, this way feels good.”
Because I can't go by myself anymore. And while my husband is always open to to my suggested adventuring, we have to wait. Wait until he has figured out the balance, wait until everything he thinks needs to be sorted out is, wait until he feels things are perfectly lined up and then move.
Our contrasts, make us an interesting pair.

The waiting causes me to spin in my own circles and sometimes causes my own balance to be out of whack. But honestly, my husband's methods have never really failed us and I trust his judgement. I need to get a little better at managing the waiting periods and I still need to get better at balancing my own emotions.
This blog has been useful in many regards but it also highlights what else I need to work on.
And I was reminded through the comments yesterday, about an ideal I try to live by but came up short.
It doesn't matter what is happening around me, or to me or what other people are doing or not doing. 
What does matter are my reactions and I am capable of choosing thoughts, choosing emotions and choosing how to react.
This past summer, I was trying to work on being more centred, freaking out less frequently and trying to find that balance but I realised last night as I was going over some writings, I somehow convinced myself that balance was a stillness to be achieved.
But it isn't.
As I reflected on this, the image of two spinning spheres came to mind. Both are moving, they are in balance on the axis but in movement.
Definitely, I can work on managing my own emotions but that doesn't mean silencing the passion that spurs me on to new ideas.

Wishing you all a good and plentiful harvest.

Brightest Blessings!





Friday, 21 September 2012

Friday Fragments: Those Apples

(Thinking 'Spanking Saturday' will be called off)

I have seen on other blogs, the labelling "vanilla post ahead" and think maybe I should do that here..but then that feels weird.. If I can't stop myself from writing a happy-Equinox post tomorrow, maybe that will appear.
Can't tell you how happy I am that this summer is almost, officially over.

I love the community of bloggers I have gotten to know. Really. There is something reassuring about touching base with like-minded individuals. But even as great as that can be, this week I wish I had a submissively-minded-female-friend near by. One I could have called to ask:
 "So...how would you react if your husband accidentally punched you in the jaw? It's okay to be mad, right?"

It is hard to put a percentage...because with our sometimes chaotic life we really never know what week is going to be busy or where we will be next week...so its hard not to factor in outside influences but I think most of the time, at least somewhere in the 90 percentile, I am fine with everything being about him. Even more than fine, I'm happy most of it is all about him. Even more than happy, I am supportive, willing to do the wife thing in pursuit of all the things that are about him.
  This week, that really got on my nerves.

"Can I have one of your apples?" I said to Horace on his way out the door. 
"Of course", he replied. 
"Why are you asking permission to eat an apple?"  Neighbour asked after my husband left. 
"To be polite", I said.

It was a courtesy because these particular apples I was referring to are Horace's favourites, only available for a short time each season and had just come in at our local farmers market. For all I knew, he would have wanted to eat the two remaining apples this evening or tomorrow before going to the marche.
Probably not, but still, its just one of those things you do.
  I have a whole string of articles written on generational differences and self-responsibility...because when I spend an extra ordinary amount of time around people in my own age group, in drives me to writing on those subjects. Neighbour would fit into that category. I'm not sure how many of those I would share; some of them are pretty caustic and sharp-edged.

And to finish off a rippling week, I have a-what-will-be-very-crowded-and-loud-event to go to.
 Would much rather stay at home and clean my floors but you know, going is part of the wife thing.
Its just one of those things you do.





Thursday, 20 September 2012

Call It Make-Up


(You know, I realised that my expectations of myself are too high. I'm going to start thinking of myself as an emotionally unbalanced, un stabalized, un adjusted person. See? Given that, its amazing I only have one emotional breakdown a week...and I'm back to writing as if no one is reading)

When I am caught up in the momentum, either on the upwards or downwards swing, more often than not, I am caught up in my own mind. Tuned in easily to empathy, its easy to be set off the rails.
The mantra really is: we're okay, we're good, every thing's all right. And it really is...but it is like the default thinking is still strong enough to come in and make waves. As if my thinking hasn't caught up with the actual reality and the reason why I remind myself it isn't a crisis is because I am catching myself still thinking as if it is a crisis...

Anyway, when that is all happening, momentarily, I forget because...I also think i should be able to carry this all and I start to, until the pressure is just too much.
But then...

With firm hands and strength.
Il m'a rappelé
He easily puts me in place.

Reminding me, there is no alone in this 
Il est deux
No matter how it feels. 



He puts me down hard, 
denying me the pleasure of feeling his cock in my mouth 
Il écarta mes lèvres

He takes me hard from behind 
and to my mingled shame and pleasure
I am begging 
J'ai besoin de cette 

Silently, he takes his pleasure 
and forces my own 
The physical centring, needed 
the grounding of energy in the old way
Je suis en paix.

(C) Bleuame 2012


Wednesday, 19 September 2012

Battle of Consistency

(Peaks back out at the blog-o-sphere...dusts off yesterday's remnants of a emotional hangover and tries this again..) 

What would the definition of consistency be? And is it possible to have consistent, with no ripples or nothing that sends one spiralling off centre, all the time?
 I guess more to the point, the question really is am I capable of being consistent? Or of just consistently falling into an emotional mess? Its the later that is happening more often than I would like.

I can't live Horace's life for him. He has to manage where he is and where he wants to be on his own path, by himself. He can ask for input and encouragement and support and opinions along the way but it is his own experiences that he is responsible for creating. Likewise for me.

It gets a little murky, because I would love some days, to put it all at his feet and say, "Just fix this, will you?" but he can't. And I would feel pretty suffocated if I gave up all control to have him micro-manage my life.

But right now, I really want to say, "Fix it."
Not even, "help me fix it" but just, "take care of it all" and "take care of me."
 That's not exactly an independently minded picture I'm creating, here.

I'm at a point with things, where it feels like I just don't know what I should be doing.

And of course, I can talk to my husband about all this. Get his experience and opinions and consider what he thinks is best. But eventually, a lot of this stuff comes down to me figuring out where I want to go from here.
 And I think, in this moment, I'd much rather have Horace say, "Do this."
I don't mean the things on the list, I mean overall, with life.

My little at-a-cross-roads feeling is really bad timing. We are at a busy time for Horace's work and the business and I really don't have time to look to far ahead.. So as I put all my questions to the side and do the wife thing, I have to find a way to be okay with where I am now and that for me, is one of the loosing battles with consistency...because if I don't feel at peace with where I am...then its all too easy for me to look and fall back into default thinking that doesn't really matter now, nor does it hold true now...which leads to  tantrums and asking a tree to be a rock.
That's what I'm trying to go for: consistent thoughts, consistent emotions, consistent behaviour.

Tuesday, 18 September 2012

Thanks...

Thanks for the kind messages and words of support. 
 Some things are just too raw to leave dangling in the blog-o-sphere although nothing is ever really deleted. But I lost my nerve to continue to share that particular experience. 
Will return once sanity has been regained :o)

Monday, 17 September 2012

A Little Faith

(I got my blue unicorn after all...isn't she great?)

The importance of wanting the best for each other and how that comes into play. 

Most of the time, it is fairly easy and straight forward--both Horace and I support each other in our various projects and work. Sometimes, it can be a source of friction. One of the things we really need to work on is applying the same structure we have with everything else, to the work thing. Its hard on this side of things because, I want so very much for Horace to succeed and as often happens when you push that hard against something you want, you get a lot of bounce back. That reverberate results in both of us loosing our cool over it. We're working on it. 

Anyways, for months I had decided I wanted to go and do this Big Scary Thing. I had talked about it nonstop. All the while, Horace was supporting me by encouraging me to continue  with the Big Scary Thing and to go and do it. 

I went and sought more information on the Big Scary Thing and came to the conclusion that reading about it wasn't enough, I wanted to go and do it. 
Great! Horace said. He was happy that I was open to the possibility, that I had moved from thinking about to a place of taking action...well almost. 

You'll come with me? I asked my husband. To start the process of the Big Scary Thing? 

Of course, he reassured me. 

We went on with our week and I was thinking, great Horace will come with me to do the Big Scary Thing. It might not be so bad. 

I want to do it after all. 

One morning, I woke up and discovered a note. Left by Horace. It was a really nice note. 

It read , "Have a nice day love, and here is the card so you can go and do The Big Scary Thing. You won't have to wait for me and here is the code. Love you!" 

To go and do the Big Scary Thing involved a little bit of money and a few pieces of information. Standard stuff when you are registering for something. 

I have a horrible time with numbers. I don't retain them. And while yes, I do have my own bank account and earn money on my own, sometimes its just easier to use one account for things, just how we divide up the necessities. 
And also, I have put in the wrong code for my bank card so many times, the machine has swallowed it on more than one occasion. It pretty much lives in the bottom of a drawer. 
Horace, not only had written out the code, but also made a little ticket with the code on it, so I could take it with me. 
It was a very nice note. 

I barely got through work for the day, because I was nervous about doing the Big Scary Thing. Why did he have to be so nice about it? He could have ordered me to do the Big Scary Thing. He could have, pointed out how selfish I was being by wanting him to come with me to do the Big Scary Thing--that would have involved him leaving work early and been kind of a pain for him to do. He could have threatened me into doing the Big Scary Thing. But no! He had to be kind and encouraging and sweet about it. He had to be casual, "oh by the way, it occurred to me that you can go and do this yourself." 

He presented it to me in such a way that it left me no ground to dig my heels in and nothing to push back against. 
This would also be an example of how Horace takes into account how important being independent is to me and how he supports that personal quest.
Fine. 
There was nothing else for me to do but go and do The Big Scary Thing. 

My palms are sweaty as I walk down a really long hallway to the reception desk. 

A thin man smiles his perfect white teeth at me and says, 
"Bonjour Madame est-ce-que je peux vous aider?"
My mind totally blanks. 
This is why Horace should have been with me. My husband speaks more languages than I do, like German. German could be helpful here. Another benefit of bringing Horace with me would have been that people like him. 
Which means, when I'm beside him, there is  this blanket of niceness that I can snuggle under, it extends to me, until I snarl at them, of course but usually that doesn't happen until later. 
The man with the perfect teeth, smiles again and tries it in another language,
"How can I help you?" 
Now my mind has snapped out of its blankness but is busy translating the greeting into french. 
That only lasts a second, until it occurs to me that the man really did switch to English. 
Taking a deep breath, I explain my interest in the Big Scary Thing. 
The man smiles, directs me to the area and I try to remember to breathe. 
Half an hour later, I have accomplished the Big Scary Thing. I'm on my way to doing something I've always wanted to do. 
"That's my girl" Horace said that evening after I recited this tale to him.

We are supposed to be able to trust our significant others, our spouses and I think a part of being in a D/s dynamic is trusting the dominant beyond the obvious. 

Trust them to make the rules, trust them to carry out their words but also trust them to see farther when we cannot and trust their faith in us, when we don't have much in ourselves and nothing puts that more to the test, than grabbing scrapes of courage and hanging on to the faith they have in us and going to do something that is just a little bit scary. Or big and scary. 

Saturday, 15 September 2012

Spanking Saturday: Cool Down

(Welcome to the first edition of Spanking Saturday and I invite you all to play. Spanking Saturday Meme: Write a post with a spanking theme, fiction or from real life-just let your audience know which is which-anything goes. Just add your link to the list.)

Really, when it comes to spankings, I think it is the simplest thing we undertake in ttwd--at times. It can be complex and simple, can take hours or five minutes. Spankings themselves are versatile: they can serve as warnings or punishments, rewards and foreplay...and can be a method to cool down or warm-up from or for further play. 
 Short piece: M/F, fiction. 



Sierra dangled across his lap. She was on the edge of exhausted euphoria.
Noel dipped his fingers in the jar beside him and with his piano fingers, lightly made circles on Sierra's back.
Sierra breathed deeply, lavender and camphor bringing an infusion of ease to her muscle.
Noel paused his movements, when he reached Sierra's lower back. Delicately he dabbed at four crisscrossing welts, marring her perfect porcelain skin. Sierra gasped, the welts springing to fiery life at Noel's touch and a shuddered rolled through her body at the remembered pain, sending a shocking sensation to her centre.
Noel smiled at seeing her flinch, he started to make wider circles over Sierra's buttocks, when he felt her relax again, he brought his hand down on her left cheek. Sierra jumped, the surprise of the spank at conflict with the previous languidness.
Noel spanked her right cheek and quickly slipped his fingers into her minge, testing her level of dampness.
Sierra moaned softly as Noel's fingers twirled but the touch was too brief. Noel withdrew his fingers and started to spank Sierra gain, this time slowly.
Sierra wiggled as the heavy thuds fell on her bottom, making her want more. Noel switched hands, continued spanking with his left and with his right hand slipped back into Sierra's dripping folds.
Noel gave her bottom two more quick swats.
“Now”, he said.  

*


Spanking Saturday

Friday, 14 September 2012

Friday Fragments: Cocks, Books and Unicorns

The week clearly couldn't get anymore chaotic, I've   been yanked-kicking-and-screaming   graciously volunteered to fill in and run a workshop. Going to need a bottle of scotch my introvert support group after this day.

So...this week for Friday Fragments, I was going to wax on about an activity, I read about through one of the loops. Can't remember if it was in English or French because I can't find the link now (though I think if it was in French, I would have remembered. Can't quite work out how to say it, idiomatically en francais, and considering I'm trying to translate it from English into French..means I probably read it in English, in the first place) but it was about "cock-warming" ...anyway, the  discussion sent my mind spinning and I was going to ramble. Next time perhaps. 

Also in consideration for this week's Friday post, I have received a lot of emails, probably over the last six weeks from curious folks who stop in and read this blog--isn't that nice?--asking about books. Some like it when I do mention or have had an author on here and that's great feedback to hear because I knew doing so, would be a risk in dividing an audience and possibly not holding regular readers' attentions.
Yes, I know more authors and more places where the erotica lives and I was going to introduce you all a bit more thoroughly to the authors on the sidebar and give you some publishers' links. But I think that would be a post for the middle of the week. Just a note on that: I have an open invitation to authors who would like to be a guest here but there have been some I have approached and they have said no thanks, not interested. 
I understand, this is a personal blog and subjects I scribble about here, might make some uncomfortable.
 The book post I had in mind, therefore, was kind of a blanket, I want to tread carefully with that in mind.

Can you believe the blue unicorn still hasn't shown up? I mean, really: who is more faithful to blue and unicorns than I? Sometimes, if you want something done, you have to make it happen. I'm thinking a blog award up for grabs to anyone who wants it...hmmm...a challenge, a prompt, yes, I think that might be fun. 

And speaking of what to do with blogs, Does anyone know if there is a "Spanking Saturday" official meme? Anyone have interested in joining in a "Spanking Saturday" blog-list-linky-meme-thingy? I think I liked giving a Saturday spanking tale last week and just might do it again. Weekly features are good things, so I've been told and that is why...you are reading a list of could-have-beens for this week's edition of this regular blog feature. 
        Thank-you for reading; much appreciate all of the feedback, kind messages and support. 

Have a good weekend!


Wednesday, 12 September 2012

Not an Anomaly

Right.
Well, if everything was perfect all the time, then it would be pretty hard to know what you want. Contrast. Contrast is good; contrast helps defines ideas and thoughts and manifestations.
Can't actually know what you are wanting unless you know what you don't want.
 I pretty much spin a version of this, daily in my job-o-sphere.

Again, the hitch is, when all is moving smoothly and balanced and happy and peaceful for such a long time and that flare up comes, the contrast of it is so incredibly stark, it feels like the worst thing in the whole world. It feels like a complete wreck. I feel kind of tattered.

Like...

I'm not actually getting this wife thing and I'm not doing a good job of it.
 You know, like that.

With Horace working crazy hours and us being apart for a good portion of the day and with trying to finish some business-related things up before the end of the month, its pretty busy around here but even given that, it has been good.
 But with all of that, I was finding Mondays pretty hard and rough; we carve out the weekends for us and come Monday all of that is ripped away and we're back to being in separate places again.

This week, Mondays became my Tuesdays and I had an incredibly averse reaction to that switch.
Emotional. Lost of temper. A version of this phone episode that I thought I had learned from and put behind me. Apparently not.

So...I'm having a moment. Of not feeling centred or connected or level.

Gods, this is a mopey post.

I need to go look at unicorns or something blue..anyone have a blue unicorn?



Tuesday, 11 September 2012

Submissive at Dinner


Master of Two: Nascent Love Available now! 
Authors Derek and Verity Ant recently released a new book, called Master of Two: Nascent Love
It is a prequel to their intense, intelligent, heavy BDSM, novel Master's Hunt (the novel I can't stop going on and on about) Master of Two: Nascent Love is a collection of four short stories, featuring the characters of Master's Hunt. 
It is FREE! Go grab a copy! 
Here are the links: Smashwords (all formats) 
All Romance eBooks (all formats) 
And it is also availible on Amazon for .99cents 

And now, today's post


There is something about dinner time.
Somehow, someway, no matter how chaotic or busy we are, we find time for this ritual meal.
And it is always something that makes me feel very submissive.

Sometimes Horace tells me what to cook, what to make.
Other times, he leaves me to create, to surprise on my own.
I love to feed people, my husband most of all.
I am in the kitchen, preparing the food while Horace is working at his desk.
Chopping vegetables, stirring the sauce.
An half hour or hour alone, the hour of no matter what has happened during the day, I can put it behind me in the domestic act.
Sometimes, Horace makes me a drink while I cook. It is a little reward; a little touch showing that I've done something during the day that especially pleased him.
I simmer, boil, plan and sip.
Typical you might conclude, but it is the attitude I approach it with.
It is an opportunity once more to please him, the cemented knowing that even with this, he is in charge.
Setting the table, meekly and quietly or sometimes with a clang and conversation.
Putting the food I carefully prepared on plates. Serving it to him as he sits at the table.
I sit, I wait.
No matter where we have dinner, even if we are out, he eats first. I do not eat until he does.
Horace tastes the food, then at his nod, I start to eat.
Sometimes we talk and laugh and enjoy company. Other times, Horace likes the silence and it is all at his call.
During that waiting, as i watch him wait, I am hoping for words of praise or an observation of my submissive state.
"Good girl", he will say and I melt.
Other times, we carry on and there is no comment on the act, or my state.
Sometimes, I dine at his feet.
Afterwards, when the dishes have been tidied way, I wonder if he will decide to play with me or return to work or the game on television.
It is a harmonious protocol and really the only hard and fast one.
More often than not, this ritual leaves me wet and spurs on desire.
Sometimes wanting but always in a peaceful, happy, submissive mind frame.


The question, "Can you always be in a submissive mindset?" is a popular one. While I am always a submissive, the verb of submissiveness or the actions that give me a chance to express it, are often churned up and lost in the busyness of life. There are always some actions, or rituals that squarely put me in the beingness of submissive-wife. This is one of them.

Monday, 10 September 2012

Il ya Quatre Murs

(Playing with the words a little...literally, "There are Four Walls" ...meaning "These Four Walls")

What only matters is you and I and these four walls and what we choose to have within the space in which we live.
How this meaning has changed for me. Early on, I thought of it in terms of keeping unwanted distractions out, namely the meddling of relatives.
But as we've learned and grown through the years, I think the concept is closer to how the words were meant. We take more care in deciding what comes in and what stays out.

I'm learning more and more, it is okay for me to occasionally take on the fight, out there.
But I better have the armour off when I walk through the door. And I definitely better not consider you a target.
There were times, early on, where we would allow me to get away with that.
It's more peaceful now; not every little stress crosses the threshold.

It doesn't matter what they, we have the ability to choose how much that affects us.
And its such a zone of harmony, as much as I may love getting caught up in the emotional drama,
I can let it pass, leave it behind.

You've been very patient--but it is in your nature to have the patience of a monk.
Especially, out there. No one ever sees anything other than the surface, it amazes me how few look twice.  Parfois vous perdu votre sang froid avec moi. Soulevé le ton une fois ou deux.
That's all right; a little shocking but I'll learn to deal. This should be the place you don't always have to be one toned.

Oh, the work side still needs to be sorted out.
How we can be together in that..and the volume of how much we let in.
Maybe one day, I'll stop feeling the need to defend, including defending the work you do.
It's good, it doesn't bother me; not even when les femmes disent ils prient pour ma âme.
Oh, wait that was a defense. Promise, I'll learn to stop doing that.

Here and even out there, I am yours.
But some things are more acceptable, here.
If you have me dining at your feet or gagged and tied, its because you can and we can and these are our four walls.

*


Friday, 7 September 2012

Friday Fragments: An Old Spanking

(Having discovered this week that Bonnie, over at http://bottomsmarts.blogspot.ca/ added me to her 'Kindred Spirits' roll was like winning a first place prize. Bonnie's blog was also one I have been reading for a very long time, well before a blog of my own. The mention made my week and in honour, I thought I would share a spanking tale)


(C) Bleuame 2012

New Year's Eve, many moons ago... 


We are at a party, at his friend's house. It is crowded with people, everyone is drinking, loud music is blaring and I'm not even trying. 
I. Do. Not. Want. To. Be. Here. 
People converse with me and I literally give them the cold shoulder. I make verbal sounds of ascent, nod my head but don't say anything. 

Winter break, home from school. The first week had been among relatives, two long formal dinner parties, four Christmas dinners and it was all too many crowds for my introvert liking. We had hardly spent any time together. I have one more week off and it doesn't look like a good start. 
Why doesn't he want to spend time alone? Why did he drag me to another crowded event? 

A guy brushed up beside me, nearly spilling his cup of beer and I've had it. I'm leaving. 
I walk out of the kitchen/living room, down the large hallway to the front door and put on my shoes.

"What are you doing?", he asked.
"I'm going. You're ignoring me and I don't like these people." 
"I don't like your attitude", he said. 
He grabbed my arm, braced me against the long rectangular window. 
The frosted glass is cold against my cheek. 
"Are you not capable of showing some respect?" 
He asked and spanked my behind. 
"I don't want to be here" I said. 
He landed a quick volley of spanks over my skirt, I winced and tried to twist away but his firm arm against my lower back kept me in place. 
Suddenly, he yanked down my leggings, bunched my skirt up and tucked it under his arm that was holding me steady.
His hand fell hard against my bare bottom in a steady rhythm, first one cheek then the other. 
Tears started falling from my eyes, the shock of his hand on my bare skin, the indignity of him spanking me here, the frustration of the night. 
"Stop. Someone will see." 
"They are too drunk to notice", he said, a trace of amusement in his voice. 
"Is it too much to expect you to be patient?" he asked, his palm landing with a heavy thud against the tops of my thighs. 
His hand continue to spank, heat was raiding from my bottom. 
I felt myself go limp, the fight gone and I stood perfectly still as he continued to spank me. 
"Can you behave for five minutes while we say goodbye?" he asked, replacing my leggings and skirts, releasing his hold. 
"Yes" I said and rubbed my bottom. 
"Don't do that" he said and gave a quick spank over my skirt. 
"Be good", he said and kissed the top of my head, giving me a hug. 
He took my arm and meekly I followed him back into the fray as we made the ground of goodbyes. 
Outside he smiled, took my face in his hands and kissed me. 
"I have a surprise", he said leading me to the car. 
"What is it?" I asked. 
"I thought we would drive back tonight, now and I would spend the next week with you." 
"Really?" I squealed. 
I kissed him and he laughed, this was an awesome surprise. 

It was four am when we left the party and having already packed my stuff in the trunk, we didn't have to go back the opposite way. 
"You realy planned this", I said in amazement. 
"Of course", he said. 
Six and a half hours along the deserted highway. 
It was one of the best drives ever, puncuated by my warm bottom.

*

Wednesday, 5 September 2012

Wales


I thought I had recovered from the long weekend.
Until last night.
Our weekend was interrupted by unexpected work stuff and as a result Horace was gone for a good part of it.
Leaving me to my own devices, I frantically cleaned. Which made me happy because one, the place needed a good scrubbing and two, when I have the time to clean it means hey I have down time! 
Friday while moving a desk from against the wall, I lost my balance, kind of twisted and banged my right knee.
Saturday, while doing laundry, I lost my grip on the door to the closet where our washer and dryer live and jarred my shoulder.
My shoulder was angrily inflamed.
Sunday, I didn't run into anything, loose my grip or balance but I did wake up with a mysterious bruise on my left arm. I jokingly blamed that one on Horace because it looks like a thumb print.
But the size of my thumb, not his.
 That could have been from when I was sweeping and caught the edge of the wall to save myself from falling but I'm really not sure.
Monday, I came through unscathed though my shoulder was awfully sore.
Then last night, while going upstairs to get something, I banged my left knee against the spindles on the railing and pulled something in my side at the same time.

This is pretty normal.
Having a disability that makes normal things a little less than normal, I'm often covered in bruises of my own making. I'm used to it but this was a little too much, even for this masochist.
And just to keep life fun, it does add a challenge with our D/s side of things.

Horace, I'm sure, would love to wrap me in bubble wrap and keep me tied to the bed.
But I've worked long and hard and fought to be able to move through life as well as I do and I need the manifestations of that fight and independence.
If Horace was to take those hard won independence away, I'd find that  very tough to deal and he knows that wouldn't be respecting the plight I've been through.
We're much better at navigating this pathway now but it took a lot of trial and error.

It was hard for me to accept, that he wanted to do things for me because that equated in my mind with him thinking I couldn't do it.
Now I know, sometimes he does things I can do because he wants to and sometimes he does it to make life easier and I accept that better than I did though probably still not perfectly well. Each time I surrender to him saying "No" on something I could do but for whatever reason Horace doesn't want me to do, I view it as part of submission and so does Horace, when it comes to certain things that would tax me physically but I would rather do them because I can.

A part of this for me, was actually learning to speak up when I needed help or just because having his help would make it that much easier on me and then by extension, us.

And there are times when something that I want to do has nothing to do with the physical part of it but its because I've churned over so much in my head that  I've worked myself into an anxious mess about it, but it would benefit us, that I need a little extra push go and do it.

One of the actual nuggets in all of this, for me is learning to better manage the frustration that assaults me. It's quite a battle of mind and body that I have going on and its horribly frustrating when I can do it in my head but can't make my body do it quite right or to yield the result. Working on this part.

Some of that means giving up on a couple of things I would like to do and can do physically because getting to that point would cause a lot of frustration and even if I don't take that out on Horace, it would still affect us but knowing I don't have to prove anything and its just better for us to pass up that well of frustration, make it a little bit easier.
As does knowing Horace thinks I'm worth all this trouble.

Monday, 3 September 2012

Excerpt from Stolen Pages: Approaching

(Thought I'd share a piece from a novel I actually spent a great deal of time on, before realising it wasn't quite the project I wanted to take any further)


I was hoping you would come and fearing you would. Women will take death and laugh at it before they wallow in grief.”
Cullen knew what side of the path I was on, though at this moment, it was harder for me.
I opened the bottle of scotch, spilled out a few drops into the lake, an offering for my friend Manannan, who was a friend of the founding warriors and had seen many leave this physical existence.
Drink”, I passed him the bottle. I shuddered at the sudden authority in my voice. 
His fingers shook as he took the bottle and took a good long swig of it. He poured a few drops of the amber liquid on the ground.
He wadded in the lake, up to his chest and screamed—the same noise he had made at Madison’s but it was louder this time, harsher. The brand on my chest flamed and the mantle came awake, power rushing through me. All of Archilda knew this son had lost his mother.
 I striped out of the torn dress and went to where Cullen was, in the water.
I put my hands on his shoulders.
“Lilly, I don't think-” The glimmer of fear in his eyes battled with the carnal need. I kissed him hard on the lips and grabbed his hair in my hand, rubbing the back of his neck.
I do”, I said.
Cullen wrapped his strong arms around my waist, lifted me up and threw me hard into the water. I swam, feeling the ebb and flow of the mantle. In three strides, Cullen caught up with me and grabbed my wrist. He yanked me towards him. I twisted from his grip, kicking hard swimming below the surface of the lake.
Cullen chased me but stayed above the surface as I swam below. His large hands pushed down on my shoulders,keeping me below the water. I let myself go slack and he yanked me up with a low growl. He hooked one arm over my neck and swam us back to the shore.
He flung me down on the blanket. There was no hesitation in his eyes as he straddled over me. 

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