Friday, 30 August 2013

Friday Fragments: Not Much

Friday. 
Thankfully. 
 The last Friday in August and I am very happy August is over and gone with!
 That means we are close to fall. Yea. 

Denis, is an amazing artist and I've had him on my blogroll for a long time. 
I love the piece currently up and the title "Trop sage mais bon..."  ('too wise but good') made me chuckle. 
Take a look: http://denisdessins.blogspot.ca/2013/08/trop-sage-mais-bon.html?zx=c9177baff34cdb4b
 C'est souvent vrai avec les femmes, non? 

Have a great weekend! 
Thanks for hanging in for another week. 

Thursday, 29 August 2013

Sometimes Its Like This: Gentle Reactions

There has been a lot of stuff going on in our worlds over the past three weeks. 
I became more Blue, we have had a whole beehive of visiting in-laws, elderly parents to look after and manage those various medical things that seem to be popping up more and more, a fallout with a friend and an ordering of mending-the-fences. 
And a memorable phone call that was beautiful and profound and sorrowful and immensely peaceful. 
On top of all that there has been the regular, work, businesses to mange, courses to study for and books to get writing. 
It hasn't been easy. 
These are weeks that have affected both of us. 
What I love about our M/s, D/s is though we have rules and protocols and structure, we are able to pivot away from them on a dime. Because funnily enough, life happens. 
It doesn't mean our dynamic changes, is put on the table or on hold, but it means we adapt and we ebb and flow with each other. 

Yesterday, was not a good day. 
He was having a miserable day. 
 I was having a miserable day. 
And the misery-loves-company forced a colliding of his with mine. 
 
He would have been within his rights to punish. I didn't step over any line or break a rule but I was very nearly there. At least a reprimand or a correction. 
He didn't.
But that wouldn't have given either of us any ease or release (not that he explained his decision to me..but you know, you do infer). 
It was just an angst kind of day. Not a day to force an issue.
 There were no arguments or raised voices. Just sort of a silent hold-out. 

Neither of us could, at that moment in time, meet each other part-way.

We needed a different kind of healing. The one that comes from knowing each other so very well. 

We went out to see an exhibit, had a take-away in the park, talked late into the night, talking and laughing and forgetting our miserable days. . I went to bed earlier, Horace stayed up working on a project. 

I woke up this morning at 2:40am. Had my own blue hour, got an hour of studying in, wrote a blog post, got a couple of new pages away and made Horace an apology breakfast. 

Of course, I didn't call it that--but essentially that's what it was. 
It was ultra-gratifying to surprise him with breakfast when he woke up all sleepily and not expecting, it was nice to contribute, even exercising a tad bit of control in righting the wrongs. 
It was great to steal that time away in the morning to be together (haven't written the post about how much I adore breakfast and all the power of this meal...hmmm...).

I think punishments are effective but I think too much rigidity doesn't make for a happy ebb and flow, at least not for us. And with the way our life is...we need this..His decisions to lead us on the way that the time and situation call for, in this instance, out of the gloomy place and into a better morning. 


Wednesday, 28 August 2013

Foggy Thinking

It is a foggy-brain day.
If I am feeling overwhelmed....you know, I can be okay with that.
 But at least, usually there is one or discernible reasons for it.
Today, its just a bunch of trying to start projects and having little things get in my way and trip me up. 

And that sucks.
It has lead to nothing much being done (okay, I got work stuff done this morning and good stretch of studying in this morning) at least, not anything around the Hovel/Husband's Business front.
When I had such high hopes that everything would be done this morning. 
 I don't need constant direction, constantly. 
I don't need Horace to micro-manage my life. 
He trusts me to do the things he asks me to do. 
He knows, I'll get the things on the list done and then some. 
But sometimes...
I realize how influential this TTWD is and how it affects so much of my thinking. 
Because if he was just to tell me what to do, in this moment, I would be able to pull it together and get on with it. 
He knows and trusts that I don't have to have him make every single decision I am confronted with during a day. And trusts me to do what needs doing without telling me what to do.
But today...is definitely one of those days, that I want his total control. 

Friday, 23 August 2013

Friday Fragments: The Tough Stuff

It has been quite a week.
 My world was shattered, reformed, shocked again and transformed. Transformation is growth. 

And just as that happens in life, it happens in D/s, 

The kinky play: from the rough sex, to eating at his feet, to the clamps and paddles and sexual service; all of that is easy. Oh it didn't start out being easy, de temps en temps it screws with my head. 
There is a lot of control being taken and given and power exchanged in those activities. But for us, its the extension of the intimate relationship that forms our kink experience. 
What is tough, is the mind stuff. 

S&M and D/s and his control and authority over me, has had a profound impact.
 Through all of that, I have grown and transformed, and it alerted the person I was...or I have expanded...sometimes I like to think of it as being the best parts of me, transformed. 
I may be as emotional as I ever was (I cannot be anything else), but I am no longer reactionary to those emotions. The emotions come, then I make a decision based on how I feel, not the other way around. That shift has to do with his expectations, what he wanted and how he thought I could grow. There are so many little things that I have changed through conditioning and training, through my desire to please him and my constant commitment for our combined happiness. 

But every once in awhile, he'll ask me to do something that pushes my boundaries and makes me examine who I am. 
 He is much more forgiving that I am. He is willing to give people second chances and isn't quick to hold grudges. 
I am much more likely to take a great big bag of salt to the earth. 
 An action of another person, deeply caused me pain. It hurt him, to see me that hurt. 
My natural reaction is to cut all ties. 
He wants me to try and understand. He wants me to forgive and get past this. 
That's hard. 
He values this friendship. I value this friendship but I feel as if the other person had, this wouldn't have happened in the first place. He's pointed out that I have a different set of values being applied to the situation, 
He knows exactly what it is doing to me to even contemplate the idea. 
But he thinks I'm capable. And he thinks its worth it. And he thinks I will be better for it.
I don't want to do it. Its very far out of my comfort zone. I live by a very weird set of tenets that are based on loyalty. This action is brushing up against what I hold dear.
He's asked me to mend that fence.
So I will try. 






Thursday, 22 August 2013

The Dom Call

My day started out on the upswing. 
Okay, loud drilling construction noises made it impossible to sleep in for that extra half-hour (have I mentioned how ridiculously early I've been waking up since there have been two shades of blue?) but I made the best of it--work didn't start till the afternoon--I took a long leisurely walk, was happy that summer (weather not the season--I am still quits with the season) made an appearance, got my latte.
 Returned to the hovel.
All in all, I was feeling exactly like this: 


What could possibly go wrong?
 Because Fate has always been so kind to me. 
Just happily and bouncily going through my day and then this happened: 


And I was absolutely positively crushed.
 Lying on the couch crying kind of crushed. 
Not able to do anything.
And then feeling pretty useless and pathetic that I couldn't snap to it. 
 The downside of  leading with the heart is when something breaks, it breaks hard because you feel ever little shard. 
 Today was not a good day. 
And it was hard for my husband. He's a good Dom, he can 99% of the time deal perfectly well with all the shaking-up-of-our-worlds I tend to do and the fall out that comes from that--he encourages it, often after all. Or else I would be a doormat. 
 But an emotional-soup-Blueame is pretty challenging to deal with, I must admit. 
So he did this: 

And then my world felt like this: 


He's pretty awesome. But is a human. 
Like me. 
And we both have our limits. 
Mine are the things that make me all smashy and his is when I get to that emotional-soup-inconsolable place. 
 But a smart Dom, has good tools kept in reserve. To only use when necessary.
And rarely (because you don't want good tools to wear out) and when he does use them, its rather effective.

Thank-you for the Dom call, Sir. 
and as always, thank-you.  

Monday, 19 August 2013

Two Shades of Blue...

Writing this post, I feel a little queasy. 
 A little unsure.
Possibly like I am going to loose my late night dinner. 

New things are happening in my life.
 Usually, while I am very cryptic about the happenings and going- ons on here--that whole protecting real identity thing--this time, I can share. 
I purposefully set it up that way. 
 But I'm nervous. 
Because just because its exciting to me, it might not mean its exciting to my readers. 
 Oh...and...
I have a couple of friends of mine, from real life who read here. 
And I haven't told them (sorry!) which feels weird, but sometimes you just have to go for it, when it feels right. 
I love this little corner of Blogland. This blog has brought so many new experiences to my life and the sharing with like-minded kinky folk is amazing. Its a little community that I am so thrilled to be apart of. 
But it can also be limiting. 
There are things I can't talk about on this blog-for the obvious reasons and the less obvious ones: Making a cookie-pie was fun and it came out amazing!-- but its not something to write about here, because it isn't D/s, submission or kink related. 
Here, I want to be in that submissive headspace--its just something that happened as this blog grew. 
I'm rambling......Bleuame, get to the point
 I have decided to dive into the waters and self-publish my own books. 
This was a very long time coming, a decision that took awhile in making (it happened while I was on hiatus this summer) and its the absolute right thing for me to do. 
 I have a long history with writing and books and working and being around authors and publishers. 
This new chapter was a monumental shift in thinking that has kind of shaken up my world. 
 And while I could use this blog for that purpose: the promoting and networking that is necessary, I don't want to. I want to keep it as my place to connect, think and explore. 
But I didn't want to hide. And I didn't want to hide Bleuame from my creating books and starting a new adventure. I thought the two shades of blue, the two parts of me could meet. 
 Having an alter-ego, a pseudonym, makes me braver. I can share, talk about my life, tell my stories and its easier somehow: an attention whore, I am not. 
 The nerves I mentioned at the start of this post? A lot of that comes from the fact that I am putting more of myself out there, for all of you to see. 
 So, if you would like to know more about me from a slightly different viewpoint and follow along as I commit to going through with this crazy-scary-exhilarating-plan, I invite you to come on over and meet Blue Morgan and read about how the hovel became our home.
 Do you think scotch goes with cookie pie? 






Saturday, 17 August 2013

Erotica: Commanded Silence

His voice.
I thrive on hearing his voice; whether it is an order, dirty talk or sweet and soft. I want to hear it, I crave that acknowledgement.
His voice can control so much of me and has such power over me.
But sometimes, he doesn't give it and doesn't allow me to communicate and orders silence.

Propped on a stack of pillows, naked. Waiting for his word, his touch. For him to initiate the start of this dance.
“Open”.
In roughly a ball gag.
A fist wrapped around my hair.
Wrapping a fist around a handful of hair.
A thrust from behind and he sunk deeply inside.
I wanted to hear his words.
As he moved, it was all in silence.
My attention wandered to different sensations: feeling acutely his strong muscles with every movement he made, the cold steel of the D ring pressing sharply into my cheek.
And he this debasement farther; a finger swiped across my lip, forcing more drool to fall and then wiped across my forehead.
And it all made me squirm, sending me into that blissful place.
The sudden absence of warmth and strength almost made me cry.
And then the cane came down and struck me hard. Over and over and over.
Still, no voice.
He put his foot on my neck and I went still.
He held us there for long moments.
Then suddenly was unclasping the gag, setting me free.
“Thank-you, sir.”
He brushed my hair and pulled a blanket around me.
Pulled me close.
“Good girl”.
Finally, his voice was heard.

***
Image is courtesy of our artist friend: manyfacesart



Friday, 16 August 2013

Friday Fragments: Sharing Dear Daughter...

Oh, how I have missed Blogland. 

Thanks to everyone who stops by here to read and tons of thank-you for being so patient with me during the summer. 
 I have some big exciting changes that are happening in my life right now and you know what the best part is about that? Its that I can share it with all of you!!! Stay tuned. 

But I need to share this, because this piece of writing is so very good. It promotes health and well-being and healthy sexual talk and healthy parenting and a balanced mindfulness approach. 

Give Ferrett Steinmetz's article, Dear Daughter: I Hope You Have Awesome Sex.  a read.

And you're welcome. 

Happy Friday!


Thursday, 15 August 2013

Summer's Quit

Its way too early and there is no coffee *grumbles*. 
 I'll sacrifice the coffee because oddly, I woke up alert...no, there should be coffee. 

Do you have little things that you tell people because you think its more impressive? Or maybe part of the norm? Or something that sets you off the beaten track? Not lies but fudging of truths. 


A little thing for me that fits into that category is: mornings. I used to pretend that I liked mornings. But being me, I couldn't just let it stop there. I insisted that I mornings were one of my best times, that I was more productive in the early-before-the-birds. 
 Sometimes that is true--being productive. And 3am is really my best hour but I go back to bed by 4am...usually when I have one of those true hour of blue hours. 
I'll level with you my friends: I hate mornings. I really love my sleep
And I should be in bed right now instead of rambling here. 
Its cold.
 I am considering warming up a piece of tart or oatmeal. 
The weather app is telling me its 8C outside!!!! 
Summer, where have you gone? 

But for the past couple of years, summer and I have been quits with each other. I have been a little miffed at the season I once loved. And we're still on the quits. And I'm at quits with this summer, which is good for all of you because it means my summer hiatus is over. 
 I needed time away from Blogland to think. I needed time this summer to hermitage a way while I figured things out (big, scary, exciting life-things) and as Horace and I had new experiences. 

Horace likes mornings. Genuinely, he's not a morning-pretender.
 In fact. he has a rule about mornings: I'm to stay out of his way. 
 He loves his morning rituals--whatever they may be.
 One of those mystery- husband things. That's okay, I have mystery-wife things, too: the ones he has allowed me to keep. 
So even if I am up, I hide away in the bedroom looking over notes for work or reading and I hear him as he moves around the hovel getting ready to start his day, ready for work or whatever's on his calendar. Occasionally, very occasionally he'll wake-me up with him so I can make breakfast or because he's in the mood to paddle my behind. He's a very nice husband for letting me sleep in when my schedule allows it and not waking-me up. He was let in about my morning pretension long ago. 

He comes finds me in the bedroom when he's ready to leave, kisses me and tells me "Your my awesome wife. Have a good day" And I reply in kind, sometimes adding "You're my strong and awesomely husbandy, have a good day" and we exchange the love-yous and get on with our separate days. 

That's my favourite part about mornings...


Wednesday, 7 August 2013

Complex Simplified

(Taking a bit of hiatus from blogging this summer. Hope all of you are enjoying the summer months!) 

Horace is sleeping. 
And I have been wide-awake all night, unable to sleep. 
 As bits of remembered conversation and dusty memories float through my head, keeping me from slumber, as I wrestle with random far-flung thoughts... 
I think: "You know what? This is pretty good." 

Last night, I went to a kink event by myself. Horace wasn't able to make it and I was going with good friends and people we know. I was looking forward to it and I was so happy that he gave permission for me to attend. 
It was a large gathering.
And it was weird to be at something like this without him. 
 I am much, much better with crowds and large groups of people now than ever before but its still slightly uncomfortable for me. 
 But with so many things in my life, I do eventually grow comfortable with being uncomfortable
And it came home to me during the event, how he keeps me anchored. He is so often my protector, my protector from myself. 
With him, my always rampant emotions find rest. 
My thoughts find focus. 
And the anxieties ease. 

There were points in the evening where it was especially uncomfortable because my past came to mind. Distant past. Time before Horace--which really was a long time ago. 
When it wasn't the greatest spot in my life. 
And I realized...oh, introspection! I chewed on those rising past particles and gained insight into so many previously held beliefs. 

I came home and laid it all on his shoulders. 
Gently, he told me to give it all over to him: the troubling thoughts, the rampant emotions, the triggers of the past. To tell him, what had happened that evening and what had happened back then. 
 And I talked to him, my Dom, my protector, my husband, my best friend and he affirmed my new perceptive on those old corners. 
It was relief. 
My complexities were so simplified, as he anchored me back to him again.