Wednesday, 31 December 2014

A Cup of Kindness

Wishing all of my faithful readers a very Happy New Year! Wishing you all much joy and plenty of good.
Thanks for hanging in with me for another year.

As you probably have gleamed by now, I truly am a solitary type. My circle seems to shrink more and more each year.But when I have been lucky enough to have been graced with it, friendship is not something I take lightly, not even virtually.

Many thanks for your support throughout this year, all the lovely comments and emails and the friendships made through the virtual windows. 
All of it has helped to keep my sanity.

It gets better and better.....I still believe that...here's to hoping 2015 is all that and more.

Monday, 29 December 2014

Words, Words, Words

In my zeal for loving change, I often forget that there is a period of time between changing and the end result of that change.
I'm impatient and hardly ever satisfied. often frustrated and I'm sure I am frustrating to those who love me.

Obviously, we knew things were going to change and I think we have both more or less rolled with it, in terms of everyday-ness. I am convinced that if I didn't  have so much to recover from--if I didn't hurt constantly, it would be easier. Less frustration to battle among everything else that comes with a new dependent. 

It is getting a bit easier, we are getting just a little more sleep, which is making a difference.

But there is us, in the background and I'm not sure where we are.

The other night, I snapped at him--something he said struck a nerve.
He replied with, "I so want to beat you."
"You can't. I'm broken."

"You are not broken,"
"My body failed. My mind failed. I am broken."
"Your not broken. You are just in repair."

He's said this a lot. There was a time when believing what he said was easy, when I trusted the strength of his faith. Can I now? I'm finding it hard. Too much proof to the contrary.


Emotionally, pregnancy wasn't easy.

I didn't feel very slave like. Had little desire to be compliant. He didn't quite get that or know what to do with it and while he could watch the transformation, he couldn't go through it himself.
He's a control freak.

In the pregnancy state, I felt that my needs weren't being met. And even felt resentful that he is and always has been the priority.
His response to this was something like, "But that's what we agreed to."
Yes, yes it is. Except hormones. And frothing emotions.


But that last fight was pretty bad. All our fights during those nine months were. In normal times, even when we argued or fought, it was horrible--all of that  horrible was the drop from the happy cloud of our M/s state---also? We have always, always fought fair. He taught me how.
No fair fighting during the pregnancy.
We traded wounds and picked at vulnerable scabs.
That last one? He purposely picked at one of mine. It's weeks ago now but I still feel it because it's an issue I'm sensitive to and now all the work we had done to get me past it, seems pointless.

My neck has been bare for weeks.
I didn't think he noticed.
There was a valid reason to remove the collar-migraine, swelling, tension, something.
But he hadn't remarked on it.
And even with everything else, there was apart of me that wanted him to notice.
He did.
He slipped it on me.
I protested.
He didn't care....

It took twenty minutes for me to realize that things around the neck and tiny hands don't mix well at the moment.

But..he wants it on, there is a part of me that is happy it's off, a part of me that wishes it was on.

And all of this? Doesn't matter.
These thoughts come when its quiet and I just needed to outlet them.


Sunday, 21 December 2014

Happy Solstice, Merry Whatever

This has been my outlet for about three years.
And as I could really use an outlet now and have no wish to start another blog, here we are. Where I will talk about life with Baby Blue and the myriad of changes and all the while wonder if its appropriate...I do know that if we ever get back to how life was before, I'll unpublish the posts of these last ten moons.

"I think this time last year we were practicing making him", Horace said to me this morning.
"Hmm", was my reply.. because I can barely think. I have a hard time processing conversation. Can't take in much that isn't related to our newest member.
But later it hit me, this time last year, Winter Solstice last year, yeah, we did practice.
It was an amazing night. We had friends over and it turned into a play session. Wax play, Horace brought out the dagger. Yes, yes, it is as sharp as it looks.
Every once in awhile, I like to surprise.
And then it moved organically into a session  of heavy impact play where we traded off toys.
I dreamed about that cat o'nine nails for many, many nights afterwards.
It really was a lovely night,
 I miss that.

I can't imagine doing any of that now.
You see, pain and I? We are no longer on speaking terms.  It's kind of funny because the whole labour thing, it wasn't as painful as I expected. 
It hurt, absolutely, it hurt but it wasn't painful.
  It's everything that came afterwards that has screwed up my relationship with pain.
It's screwed up a lot of things, actually.

Everything I thought I knew about the mind/body connection? In shambles.
Everything I hold dear about willpower and setting forth intentions and flowing with energy? Complete fallacy.

And I can't imagine putting myself consensually, willingly in any situation that would involve the application of pain.

Told you, it's a lot to get through.
I'm working through it.
Day by day..if I haven't cried sobbing tears of grief, I count it as a good day.
And I am getting used  to the sleep deprivation. 
The night time wakings with Baby Blue are the hardest but we are taking it one feeding at a time...the fact that my breasts are sore and painful? Just more of the same (latch fine, by the way, and the experts can't figure out the causes).

This is where I am at the moment.
It kind of sucks.

But...there are glimmers of the silver lining.
Sometimes we manage a feed without pain and we have been out in the village twice and received--reminding me that fresh air and sunlight are good.
Did I mention the love? Yeah.
So much love. 

My friends, I will be reading when I can but commenting little.
 Grateful for the messages, but I will be slow to respond.

More silver lining?
Eggnog.


Wishing you all  much joy on the longest night, a lovely holiday season to you and yours and a Merry Whatever Thing It Is You Do.

Thanks for reading.






Friday, 12 December 2014

Friday Fragments: A Week

One week ago, we said hello and welcome to our baby boy.
He's perfect, of course.
He's already amazing me and teaching me and I can't believe the love. 
So much love.

The birth didn't go as planned, and that's going to take some time for me to come to terms with.
 In the meanwhile Baby Blue and I are learning each other and I am trying to take it day by day,
This weekend's adventure is learning to nurse in public (any tips?)

My husband, I am so grateful. He's a good man, with very wide and strong shoulders. He saw me through the endless labour and never left my side through the twists and terms.

And I am so grateful too, for good support. I don't know what I did to deserve a confidante such as you, but I count my stars. 
We couldn't have made it through as well as we did without you.
You are amazing.

To my friends in Blogland, thank-you so much for all the lovely messages and kind words. 
I miss you all!

Friday, 14 November 2014

Friday Fragments: Another Update

This is the only time, ever that I will encourage childling to be late rather than early--and I hope it takes full advantage of it. At 37 weeks, we are considered term.
I keep telling it to stay in and hold on and hope that it is listening. 
As someone who emerged way, way too early into this world, the idea of 40 weeks, appeals to me. 

In the back of my mind, I know we aren't going to get everything on my list done and I am trying to come to peace with that. The big stuff is done, or every close to being ready and just about everything is in place in the Hovel. 

A few weeks back, Horace and I went away. It was only for a night, but it was probably the best thing we could have done. 
It gave us--me especially--a mental break and gave us good time to connect. We stayed in a truly magic location and it was so much fun. 
When we got home, both of us felt refreshed and the panic of not having it all done or ready, eased. 
And weirdly, I've been more on an emotional level since that break. 

My worries about whether or not we can resume our M/s-ness, have also eased. The man is still making me do things I don't want to do--more on that next time. 

Thank-you all, for the lovely messages and body of support. 


Wednesday, 12 November 2014

Love Our Lurkers Day...Love to you, you and you...

Another Love Our Lurkers Day is upon us. 
And I definitely had to take a break from my frantic-trying-to-get-the-Hovel-ready to drop in and acknowledge the day. This day is for trying to bring those silent readers out of the shadows and asking them to say hello. 

What is amazing to me, totally incredibly amazing to me, is that when I turned this blog private, a score of loyal lurkers followed. It was surprising to me to receive so many messages, indicating interest. Many were simple, even shy. 
A few were verbose with why the reader wanted to stay reading here.

Being one, who hardly ever knows what to say or when, I understand the lurker. I have blogs I still lurk on--more often than not anyways. 

So come say hello if you like today, or merely continue on your way. 
Just know that I am grateful you are still reading here. 


And as I like to do on Love Our Lurkers Day, I'm reposting one of the most popular posts on L'heure Bleue. This one comes from February 5, 2014. 

Independence of Dependence

Snow.
Lots of snow.
But I'm making the best of it, today.
I have pasta sauce simmering on the stove and loaves of bread rising, the Hovel smells so amazing. 

The feelings of loneliness have eased, barely lingering. 
For about three weeks, I felt that loneliness acutely.
With it, it brought fear and pain and grief and regret. 

That was a whole lot of emotion to process, even for me. 

But...one way or another, I seem to have a knack for transmuting out of the rubble. 
It's why chaos and change and I are such good friends. 
While I was chin-high in those lonely feelings, it hit home: 
What would I do without Him? 

It's a scary concept to ponder. 

Life is good. 
I have never been so content, as I am now. 
Even while I had those moments of suffocating loneliness, the contentment was under riding it all. 

Who wants to think about their loved one not being with them?
Who wants to ponder what life would be like if anything happened? 

Things are good, but my crystal ball is very rusty. 
It's never really worked all that well in the first place.

So out of that rubble, I contemplated those thoughts. 
Independence, something I held so highly and dearly and closely, doesn't matter in the same way it once did for me. 
I can barely make decisions on my own. 
Lots of decisions to be made with the book thing. 
And I have His support. 
But he is smart.
Smart enough to realize when something is outside of his expertise. 

And as I contemplated those thoughts, the refrain kept going through my head: 
What would I do without Him?
In the whole time that we have been together, I haven't been in the workforce. 

My references are so old they are invalid, if I had to go out and get a job tomorrow...it's an overwhelming prospect.
And while it's true that I help with His business and we can even measure the affects of my help, as it were, it's still not comforting when placed next to that scary refrain. 
So I've decided to pour more energy into my little, tiny business and see if I can once more, reinvent myself. 

Seriously: that old Phoenix has nothing on me.

M/s can be liberating. 
The dependency can actually be kind of freeing. 
But it is still, dependency. 

And way back...the lost of my independence was the clincher that made me hesitate into giving this submission thing the 24/7 go. 
But I think, with any relationship, where it is give and take...there is a certain loss of independence on both sides. 
Somehow, with M/s, it seems more intense.

But, I don't have to go it alone. 
I can turn these worries and fears over to Him, lay them at His feet, with perfect trust and perfect love and know, that His strength will support me. 
He will lend his intelligence and his insights to my quest of reinvention. 
He always has. 

And I count my stars. 







Friday, 31 October 2014

Looking At Details

Thank-you for all the encouraging emails...each one of them helped to lift my confidence again. 

My belly is the size of a pumpkin. 
But I somehow, don't feel heavy--it's like my body has adapted to the extra weight and we are just carrying on as usual. One of the most surprising things about the last eight months, is how well my body has adapted. There were concerns that it might not go this well or be this easy, but it has and is and I'm just so grateful it has been smooth sailing, physically. I have had very little of those typical symptoms and I am making pregnancy look like a cake walk. 

This has been such a period of adjustment for us both and it makes me wonder about the future. Are we going to be able to get back to the M/s dynamic we had? Even a little? Or are we, like so many others it seems, going to loose ourselves in this new chapter? 

It's not completely true, I know that his sadist needs to come out and play but I have always felt, that I am the one who needs the actual physicality of kink more than him. He is happy with service. 
And while I am happy to be of service, I am much more full filled when I am both useful and used. When it's all service, all the time, there is a certain monotony that settles in and I detest boredom. 

But today is much more of a day to look forwards than backwards. And I can't tell you how happy I am, anticipating the next months to come. I am starting to feel a little eager--but this is one process I do not want to rush. 
The details will work themselves out, for now its enough, more than enough for us to revel in being this ridiculously happy. 
 From one new year to the next, it just gets better. 









Tuesday, 28 October 2014

Call for Props

Last week, He and I were in a situation that ended up being kind of scary. Oh, it wasn't invasive or medically threatening or anything of that nature but what I thought was information gathering, a consult, turned into being so much more. 
Both of us, were unprepared for it and it kind of spun our heads a little bit. 
And I still don't feel "right" about it. 

You see. for all these months, I had been planning an unmedicated birth. I spent a lot of time learning about pain techniques and natural births and flooding myself with good examples. This is still our plan. 

But because the events of last week, were what they were, it's shaken my confidence a little bit. Some doubt has crept into my head as to whether or not I can actually go through with the plan. 
And doubt is so useless and a mental hurdle to get over. 

I'm looking to restore the confidence I had in the plan, my friends and to eliminate the doubt and fears that have crept in. I know I am not the only one who has been down this path...if you have any advice/encouraging words to share, I would be grateful to hear them.

Wednesday, 15 October 2014

Checking In and Zoning Out

I know. 
It's been awhile. 
Somehow, blogging is on my list of priorities these days but I thought I would give a quick update. 

Thank-you for all the kind messages and emails! I'm not spending a lot of time at the screens these days, so apologies for not replying to everyone, but I so appreciate being thought of. And I miss Blogland. 

It's been a trifle stressful with continuing to get the Hovel ready to expand to accommodate a third being. But it's slightly better now, because we are closer and it looks like we will be closer at the end of this weekend. 

This past weekend, the long Thanksgiving weekend, we shifted ever so slightly back to our normal and it felt positively blissful. For the first weekend or week night in a long time, Horace didn't have to run around, work late or do something for the Hovel and we spent good time together. Even got in a little bit of play. 
 In before times, it would have constituted as a good warm-up, but you know what? I'm not picky these days. It was delightful. 

I was also able to cook, clean and bake and by doing so, reclaimed some of the Hovel back. It's amazing to me, how much my slavehood evolves around home and hearth and kitchen witchery. So things are on the level with us. 


I'm feeling good, maybe just a little bit achy at night but that's it really, as far as physical symptoms go--yeah, truly not making friends with the other pregnant women,
I do find myself having to dig more for energy and less inclined to want to summon the energy to clean the floors. 


Will do my best to duck back in with another update or to before the weeks are up.

I've just kind of been in this solitary cocoon that is suiting me fine and enjoying the moments.

Thanks for thinking of me, my friends. 

Friday, 19 September 2014

Friday Fragments: Keep Away

(For those of you who read via email: I'm trying to post the usual three times a week, but the usual posting days might be off, what with all that's going on around here)

There are many conveniences to apartment living, I've come to appreciate and know well over the last couple of years that we have been at the Hovel. I can't believe how much I love it and how much I don't want to trade it for anything else. 
One of those conveniences, that certainly makes life easier, is there is a  large convenience store attached to the complex. 
 This is great in winter, fantastic when you're out of milk in the morning and has been a godsend over the last seven months. 

I'm only a stone's throw away from basically any cravings that I have had--not that I have over indulged--but the chips and candy are right next door. New owners bought the store a few months ago.

So now along with the chips and candy, there are pastries. Apple turnovers and samosas and croissants, pies, all right there next door. 
 I have had a pretty consistent inclination for bread/pastry products, so having this available has been just a bit awesome. 

But now Horace has forbidden it. 
He is keeping the candy, chips and pastries away from the pregnant woman. 
  Or at least quick access to them. 

He's really forbidden going to the store--not imposed sanctions on what I can eat, which is damn impossible these days--, that's right next door.
For all his exactness, his strictness and his perfectionism, he really is a laid-back, easy going guy. 

It takes work and effort to ruffle his feathers. 

A couple of weeks ago, the new owner of the store, succeeded in doing that. 
Horace went in to buy a bag of milk. They were out. The new owner suggested that he buy little cartons and it would be same price as the special they had on and equal in amount.
 Horace said, actually it wouldn't be the same price and not even come close to equaling the amount and what he is charging for the small cartons of milk is astronomical. 
 My husband would have left it at this point, probably with a, "I'll come back when you have the bags in" and things would have been fine and my access to the store would have not been in jeopardy. 
But the new owner...he pulled out a calculator. 

He might as well have pulled out a rapier--it pretty much amounted to the same thing in the end. 
Horace is one of those people who actually like math. 
He likes it enough that he spends a good portion of his days, using it.
 The kind of math that is more than how to count change--which I can barely do. 


Horace told the new store owner, the difference in prices--between buying the little cartons of milk and the regular bag and how much it was more expensive by and how the volumes compared, all before the new store owner had pressed the equal sign. 
 The new store owner, insisted to Horace that his math was wrong

Horace generously ran down the numbers again, the new store owner insisted he was wrong again and at that point, my husband walked out of the store, still while the new owner was punching in numbers in his calculator. 

My husband got home, relayed what happened in the convenience store and declared that we weren't shopping there anymore and went on a little rant, explaining to me in great detail the math...which at the point, I kind of tuned out, because it was math, and two because he just took away the easy access to candy, chips and pastries and my brain was much more consumed with the ramifications of that. 

In case I missed it the first time, or thought it was a moment of indignation, Horace said it very clearly, "You are not to shop in that store." 

There are other stores that aren't that far away and I don't mind the extra walking.
And as a good slave, of course I have obeyed his edict on this--no matter if I think it's a trifle petty. 
Or how much I miss running into neighbours in the line, or the quick access to the candy, chips and pastries. 
But I also know, that if I were to disobey, that right now, Horace would probably let it slide.
 It's a strange thing to have those thoughts enter my head.
And there is a tiny part of me that wants to because...I could get away with it, I could justify it.
 It's so unslave like to have thoughts like that and I am totally chalking them up to the hormones. 
We've long come to the realization that pregnancy has brought out the brat in me.
 And though my quick access to the candy, chips and pastries have been denied, it isn't such a hardship, with this one, Horace really isn't asking a lot. 
 Besides, I'm usually up for a protest, no matter the logic. 


Have a good weekend, my friends!












Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Dom Shopping

I never had the chance to go looking for a Dom. Horace and I grew together into this M/s dynamic...though there were signs early on...and maybe it was instinctual...maybe I should have been more surprised by someone who was more open to my kinky needs...but I didn't term it like that back then, nor did I realize how much my fantasies and longings could be put into reality (kind of neat, that one, yes?). 
 Truthfully, I got lucky-and spoiled. 

Anyways, if I was to choose a Dom, what would I look for? 
 What kind of characteristics would I seek out? What would matter the most to me? And I'm sure this would be differ if I was looking for a long-term relationship than just someone to play with occasionally.
 Or would it? 
 During play, I'm rather vulnerable and I am especially fond of all my limbs, someone at the very least, who could respect limits would be idea. 

This crazy line of thinking entered my brain after reading a forum on the topic and I thought I would play pretend Q&A, putting together a list of characteristics that I would want if I was to go Dom Shopping (which, I have been informed, will never, ever happen) and to keep it from going totally off the rails, I thought I would do it with some seriousness, as if I was going to illustrate to someone new, the important things. 
(And obviously, I am hard-pressed for topics. Got any questions? I'll take them...my brain needs a distraction from the panic of not having everything done...).

How much would his Domly experience matter to me? 

Well...anyone can pick up a flogger.
 At the very least, I would want someone who knew how, why and when to pick up that flogger and the reactions it would cause me. Someone insightful, then. And experienced, yes. How many other subs in the past he has had? Might not be a factor...because that wouldn't necessarily equate the quantity of his experience. 
Ooh...if he was experienced in fire flogging, I would want that! Because I like fire. And floggings.

How much would his reputation matter to me? 

I've never put stock in gossip or cared much of what others thought, but I have come to learn that in the kink community, reputation does matter and can be pretty accurate. I would ask around, definitely before I ever got further than a second meeting. But I would make up my own mind, because I'm stubborn that way.


Would I look for signs of strength? 

But what kind of strength? I wouldn't care how much the Dom Dude could bench press...but I would care about strength of character...is he able to reveal something about himself that may be uncomfortable? Is he able to show me that he wants me? I guess I would be looking for delivered thorns and for him to walk into a room and sweep me off my feet-literally, right there. Yes, someone who can take charge, take control and thinks I am worth the risk of disruption, would be important to me.

What would throw me off and go on to the next one? 


If he has bad table manners. If he always has to raise his voice to talk. If he had a fondness for europop. If he showed signs of aggression. 
 Sometimes, dominance and aggression can be confused but there are subtle differences. Dominance is wanted, aggression is not. If he couldn't keep a houseplant alive..but then again, I can't keep a houseplant alive. On second thought, screw it, if he couldn't keep a houseplant alive, I'm moving on. 

Does he open doors? 


 I think the guys who are Dominants and are gentleman, often get overlooked.
But being a gentleman is more than opening doors.
"The final test of a gentleman is his respect for those who can be of no possible service to him."--William Lyon Phelps

How Domly Dude treats others, I would take note of. And in a community where the emphasis is often placed on what the bottom can do for the top and how the sub can be of service and how the Dom is supposed to just sit righteously on some kind of throne...I get..how this last point can be hard to explain. 
But I think, to me at least, it's probably the one that matters most.

Well that and an ability for Domly Dude to get his own coffee order right--I mean seriously, if you can't be clear enough to your barista?? 







Friday, 12 September 2014

Friday Fragments: A Little of the Crazy...

When he asks me to do something, he expects me to do it. 
He knows, I will do it. 
He trusts that I will do it to the very best of my ability (because I have never been able to find the off switch for not throwing my whole self into absolutely everything I undertake) and I will do it quickly. 
 What I have always appreciated about him, is that when he asks me to do something, he does it trusting and knowing I will, under the parameters I wrote above, but he does not expect perfection. 
He's a perfectionist. 
I'm often humbled by the fact that he doesn't put his standards on me. 
It can't be an easy thing to do. 
But time and time again, it shows me that he knows I am trying and doing my best. 
He once told me that the perfect is in my offering and that's all he really asks for--nothing major, just surrender. 



I've been reminded over the last seven months, how crucial, I think it is that a relationship, even a power exchange one, ebbs and flows with the circumstances. I like that he doesn't insist on some rigid standard that I couldn't possibly ever meet--because life doesn't work that way. It's messy and circular and will ramble on and on out of the confines you try your hardest to impose on it. 

That brings me to the current ebb and flow. 
Our Hovel is a bit of a wreck right now. So many projects are just in those weird stages of not being completed because everything is dependent on the project before it to be completed and that's dependent on the one project that is taking up most time. 
 Our bed is in the living room, for goddesses' sakes. 
There are boxes and stuff all over the place and it's driving me out of my minimalist-loving-mind. 
 To compound the situation, we have two events coming up. 
So all of the stuff we need for the events, is well, on top of everywhere else. 
 Do you know how hard it is to clean and maintain a clear space, somewhere in this chaos?? 
It's throwing me off, just a little bit. 

I knew, as the words were tumbling out of my mouth that it was crazy. but I somehow couldn't stop them. 
"Do you think it's possible that we can hold off on having visitors until the rooms are sorted?" I asked him one night. 
Just like that, by the way, a lack of honorifics, certainly. 
He knows I've been driven nuts by the projects-not-being-done. He knows that in normal times, stuff like this drives me a little batty. During this time? Oh it hasn't been great, it's one of those mental threads that have been fraying around the edges. 
He gave me a look.
I realized, that it was a big ask. 
We generally like having people drop by. Occasionally he brings home clients--though I can't imagine how to entertain them in this chaos--but basically, I was asking if he minded forgoing the usual frills of his home. 
"We might be able to do that", he said. 

Now, logically and reasonably, do I actually expect this to hold true? No, because that would be just plain crazy. But he made me feel better by saying it, anyways. 
---
If I had asked him that seven months ago, he would have laughed, probably petted me on the head and told me to suck it up. But ebb and flow, remember? 
--- 
Has he been a little more indulgent of me during this time? Yes. 
Have I maybe, taken a little advantage of his indulgence? Yes. 
Have I then withered and freaked out about the lack of chain? Yes. 
Has he then, tightened that chain right up? Yes. 

Sometimes, try as hard as we might, even though we strive for more flowing movements in M/s, the reaction/action thing does work. 
 Sometimes, you just have to go with wherever the relationship happens to be at the moment. 
That includes a whole host of things, like dropping a label you first clung to,
fumbling after a few good tries, halting after a few good years or adapting because of a change in circumstances. 

The epitome moments do come...that total l'heure bleue surrender, but to reach it?
It's messy and circular...it's life, being well lived. 





Tuesday, 9 September 2014

Then, Now and Next

I'm aware that it can be hard to relate to different dynamics and I'm also aware that there are so very few M/s relationships, here in the blogsphere or in real life that resemble ours. 
 And if that makes me sound snobbish or elitist, so be it. 
I thought for my sanity and further clarification purposes, I would try and break everything down, in a to-the-point-way. 

Then/Overall 

Our dynamic is consensual non-consent. 
What does that mean? 
It means, that my consent has been waived, he does not need it. He does not have to negotiate, to ask for my permission to do anything he wants to me or with me. He does not have to run things by me, I follow. 
It means, he could get up right now, walk across the room and slap me across the face, just because he felt like it. 
He did that once, in front of an audience to illustrate the point.
It took a lot of self-control for me not to smack him and say, "Thank-you Master". 
 It's not that all of this comes easy, self-control is a huge part of it.
This also means, I don't say "no" to him.

I am owned. 
What does that mean?
It means he owns me. He very much, treats me like property. A lot of the time, that means as being treated as his most treasured and prized possession, but it still comes down to him treating me as property. 
I am a slave. 
What does that mean?
It means, that I have no say. 
He may ask for my opinion, or input, but it does not affect the outcome, nor do I expect it to.
 It means that he decides everything that happens in my world. 
It means that my world, is very much him
It means that he comes first, always. 
That there is only one way--and it is his way. 
There may be give and take--but it is not an equal give and take. 
This power exchange, is rampant with double standards. 
In very real day to day, for me it means: He decides when I work, where and how much. He controls the fiances. He decides where we live. He tells me what to do and when and how. 
It doesn't matter how I feel about a decision he has made, it's my role to accept it and get on the same page as him...or not...because he doesn't really care if I am in the mindset or not.
It doesn't matter if I disagree with what he has told me to do, I do it anyways. 
He directs my will, my focus, my energy and his dominance is what dictates my submission. 
But if I am not feeling submissive or slave-like? It has no bearing, he expects me to act as if I am. 

And all of this? Doesn't even touch the sex parts. 

I often think, that when it comes to the physical, it's easy. He decides when we have sex. I may ask--because he has trained me to--but I have no say over it. I may ask for play but he can and does say no. 
He decides and chooses what kind of play we do and how much of it. 
All of that is way easier, then being ordered to go to the post office, in the middle of the afternoon. Have I mentioned what a nightmare the village post office is? *shudders* Trust me, I am never in the "submissive mindset" while standing in that line. 

The Last Six Months/Or What Hormones Have Done 

Overall, this pregnancy has been great. 
It really has been an awesome time. 
I am feeling incredible, most days. 
But we've had to adapt. 
 And we have lived in this M/s way for a number of years now. 
So...
It has been an up and down thing, in trying to wrap my head around how this doesn't fit in with M/s because I feel differently and how feeling differently is okay. 
He doesn't control my body right now, I don't control my body right now and my mind is in so much pregnancy fog I can barely see. 
Don't get me wrong: We are blissfully happy. We chose this. We wanted this. 
We have been ecstatic and have spent a lot of time cooing and awwing and doing all those things that expectant people do. 

But it has shaken up the routines. 
They are pretty much non-existent. 

And my standards may be high, but his are far more exacting. 
And just because I can't meet them right now, doesn't mean I don't feel like I should--I have a really tough time with that one. 

I'm by nature, a highly emotional being; I think in emotions, it is my bases for communication. 
The M/s has always helped to contain/control/soothe that vortex. 
But because there hasn't been much enforcement, I feel many days, as if the lid has come off. And I'm not sure how much of it is related to the hormones and how much of it is related to having the rug pulled out from under me, so to speak. 

He has decided to take many regular types of play off the table. 
He is in his rights to do that and to have made that decision.
And while I respect that and understand that he has been going through his own six months of stuff, it doesn't mean that I don't long for it, especially the intensity. 
I'm finding these days, I need more...reassurance, more praise, more encouragement. That's what I need
What I want is my Master and I often, like yesterday's post, chafe at how much loose chain I have and how I long for him to tighten it up. 

And I have a hard time, identifying what I need.
I don't ask for much.
So coming to realize that I need to be allowed to be vulnerable and taken care of, is a hard mind switch to throw. 

For the Next Three Months 

We can only continue to be us. 

And I can only continue to have this experience in the way I have chosen or am having it. I am not trying to reinvent the wheel, I'm just trying to do it in a way that makes sense to me. 
I hope I can find a way to just be with the emotions and I hope, that we can enjoy every moment of the next three months, just like we have enjoyed all the many moments of the last six. 


Monday, 8 September 2014

The Downs...and Ups...but Mostly Downs

I am supremely grateful to a blogging friend who told me a few months ago, "some of our worst fights happened when I was pregnant."
Seriously. 

I feel less like an anomaly or like it's just me. 
But truthfully, it is just me these days. And it wasn't a fight. 
Not really. Not exactly. 
It was just me being emotional. 
Which I'm sure he chalks up to me being "irrational" although he has learned not to say that outloud. 

We have played here and there...little bits. 
And maybe that's better than nothing. 
And I understand how it's hard for him to wrap his head around it...I mean, him beating his pregnant wife...

But I miss it. 
It's not the play, or the service, or the routine or the harmony, that I miss--though I do and all these things are still there, even though they are like echoes of what they once were--it's the intensity that has been missing. 

There isn't anything I do in life that is half-way. 
And I love that with kink, it lets me be all the way in. 
Whole self, nothing left. 
And I love that in this one space, he meets me there. 
That it allows him to be all the way in. 

I miss that feeling...that state, of where his will...doesn't only dictate mine, but swallows mine whole and I have no choice but to bend...because my will in that moment, is his. 
His to use as he will. 
The intensity, I miss the intensity...because with it brings an intimacy that doesn't show itself anywhere else, but is there, as part of our foundation. 

I miss the intensity. 

Wednesday, 3 September 2014

Blissful Mail

It's not unusual to receive packages in the mail around here. We do more shipping of them than receiving, but still get a good steady stream of mail to the Hovel in relation to the business. 
So it wasn't surprising for Master to bring in a package one day last week. 
It was very surprising that the package was in our mailbox...but only because it fit. Usually there is a tag on the mailbox and then we have to go and retrieve it--because the mail/delivery people, never, ever, ever, never ring the bell, slight annoyance about living in a building--and for that reason, we usually have things shipped to his office...the village post office is a rather painful experience.

I had been waiting for a package. 
A few weeks back, we cleaned our toy kit, parting with implements that were no longer serviceable or homemade early days ones that we kept just because but had far out grown their effectiveness, broken bits and worn parts. It was a fun activity and it gave me a chance to voice what I may be wanting to add---it was also just a little bit cruel because there were things in our kit and things on the list that we can't use right now--and Master started telling me the pieces he was going order/collect. One item that we both wanted, was a new crop...being one of the things we parted with, there was a space missing in the kit for it. 
He told me he had ordered a new one, a few days later and then I started looking for the package. 

Because my mind is like swiss cheese, these days, I, of course, forgot all about it. I forgot that there was a new implement coming, I even forgot he ordered it--and I was very much looking forward to being hit with it, it had been awhile. 

He comes in with the package, leaves it on the counter and I wasn't all that interested, chalking it up to mail belonging to the business. To be fair, it didn't look like a package that could contain a crop, it was a padded envelope, so I might be excused for why my brain didn't make the connection. 

A few days later I said, "Aren't you going to open the package? I'm curious what's in it."
"You would like to know what's in it?" He smiled. 

He retrieved the package, told me to close my eyes. 
Now I start to remember, but still the shape of the package doesn't fit. 
I waited, eyes closed while he opened the package. 
"Put out your hands". 
I did, obediently and the next moment, I smell leather. Blissful new leather. And I was wholly relieved that it smells like leather and not sweat like leather smelt to me a few weeks ago. I also feel leather. 
"Open your eyes". 
Master gently flicked the fails across my palm. 
It was a small, new cat o'nine tails. 
And it was gorgeous. 
Now my mind is all churning, with, 'is he going to hit me with it? He has to! Not fair if he doesn't' 
 But you know, he has been comfortable with using on me and when has been kind of all over the place the last few months, just like my comfort with implements have been. We've pretty much learned to go with the flow. 
"Stand and put your hands above your head", he pointed to a spot on the wall. 
It had been a long time. I'm quivering as I moved into the position. 
I drew a deep breath in as I heard the leather sail through the air and then it landed on the small of my back. 
Relief and bliss and yes!
Master kept going for awhile and I melted. 

It was nice to have this type of play, nice when the moments meet where we both feel comfortable with it and if my mind hadn't been swiss cheese, that anticipation, or planted seeds, would have added that heady mix to the scene and I was reminded at how skillful he can be when it comes to laying those seeds. 



Thank-you for the new toy, Master. 



Monday, 1 September 2014

How To Drive

a service-oriented slave crazy: 

1. Announce that you are going to do a task she does, every day--in service to you.
2. Forbid her from doing the task. 
3. Order her to keep you company while you do the task (under the guise of "keeping me company"), thus making her watch. 

Damn sadist. 




Friday, 29 August 2014

Friday Fragments: Limits

We are in a prenatal yoga partnering workshop.
I kind of got us into this because though we decided not to take prenatal birthing classes, I thought it would be a good idea to do something. Just for the experience of it. And yoga, familiar enough. Husband said yes, because honestly? Sometimes it's hard to say no to a pregnant woman.
Even if you are an Alpha Dom and never envisioned yourself at a prenatal yoga workshop.


Mats are side by side, we are sitting facing each other, holding hands.
"Whoever reaches their limit first, is responsible for letting the other person know."
I bit my lip. And ducked my head but not before I met his eyes and couldn't help but giggling.

He squeezed gently with his fingers on my wrists, trying to refocus me.


The workshop involved a lot of stretches, where your partner helps you maintain stability and balance, and we were led through a lot of positions that are supposedly helpful during labour. Some of them where positions where pressure or sensations were purposefully introduced--the idea was to learn how to cope with them.
He was awesome.

We totally kicked ass--you know, because it's so competitive and all.
But I loved how we worked through everything together and how, even here, I still followed his lead and he was so very supportive.
We barely spoke, we didn't need to.
He knows me. And because his limits are my limits, he knows what I can take.


It hasn't been smooth sailing around here lately. The last couple of weeks have been kind of rocky, filled with intense emotional highs and lows.
There has been so much life stuff going on.
They say pregnancy can exacerbate.certain things and I can't help but wonder if that's true and I haven't always liked where my thoughts have gone along that path.


He's so damn strong.
But, limits, you think there has to be limits and I've wondered over this time, if he has reached his and if not now....?


"I own you. I own every part of you and there isn't a part of you that scares me. I have very big shoulders."


That's how he replied to my concerns and that should be enough for me to let them rest easy.

 


Wednesday, 20 August 2014

This Morning...

He fucked me to tears. 
 These weren't the dainty row of tears that fall in streaks. 
 These tears were the teary-faced, sobs in throat, outright crying. 
He had his way with me. 
And then left me. 

First, he cuddled me, when I went to grumpy-defensiveness, he held me tight. 
Told me he knew that of late, I might be showing a little bit brat.
With whining more than he likes and vocalizations turning to complaints...but if there was ever a time for exceptions...-hey I'm talking for two!-
...it was only because he was allowing it. 

He said, "that's a good and proper slave, this morning, being used how you should", and twinned my hair in his fist. 
He yanked hard on my collar and kissed my lips and said, "Still. Always. Mine."
Finally, my tears stopped. 

We went on with the morning routine. 
At the door, he held me close. 
Told me to text him as often as I needed today. 
Reminded me, it was a short day, only a few short hours till we were together. 
"Love you, slaveling" he said. 
And then he left me. 


Monday, 18 August 2014

Right Now, Beat Me

I want you to beat me.
Right now.
 I'm finding it hard to wake up and get back to the daily grind.
I'm feeling agitated,a conversation on the phone this morning left me feeling agitated and grumpy.
The simple tasks on my list today are overwhelming.
I'm frustrated by the clutter.
I want you to beat me.
And it's not fair.
Not fair of me to want it, at least not right now.
You're busy.
You're away.
It's a transition week--riding the wave from last week.
I know these changes mean longer hours.
And I'm okay with that--truly I am.
It's what you want.
You're happy.
So for me to want you to come right home and beat me, is not fair.
It's not me proving how absolutely okay I am with all of it.
I want you to beat me.
 This moment, a part of me longs for spontaneity.
I know we don't have time for that right now.
It's the only thing that will shut off my brain.
That will bring my world back to centre again.
I don't quite feel recovered, it was an awesome, amazing weekend.
It all must wait. 
I must be patient and wait for a good time to tell you about that conversation. 
I know you will tell me what to do. 
And I know you are strong enough and there is enough of you to take it all. 
To encompass me and all..the good and bad. 
You'll know what to do, even if I disagree. 
It'll be for my own good, to shield me. 
Right now...
I want you to beat me. 

Friday, 15 August 2014

Friday Fragments: Depths and Depths

It has been such an intense week, filled with changes. 
Which makes me happy. 
 I am so damn proud of Horace and feeling so in love with him and us and the amazement of it all...it's kind of great. 

He keeps his cards close to his chest--at least the ones that would reveal who he is..he has no qualms telling you about his favourite movie or sports team or where he lived growing up (while all that stuff makes me shudder) but I think there are few people, who truly know him. But if you are lucky? And he's decided you are one of his? Then, I think you start to see the parts of himself that he keeps closed off. You see the depth of his passions, the fierceness of his loyalty--it's a really good match for mine, after all-and his enormous generosity, the solidness of his protection and the layers of how much he cares. That's probably the rare, emotional side. 
And I'm not sure if he's going to beat me for putting this out here... 

I work everyday in pursuit of showing the world how feckin talent he is and how brilliant his mind. 
In all most all situations, he will remain neutral until he has good reason to choose sides.
He doesn't let his judgements of others out.
But...sometimes I wish, other people can see him when his cynical wit gets on a roll. 

He isn't one to spend a lot of unnecessary time on the net.
So if I see something on FetLife, I think he would like or find amusing, I show it to him. 
I came across a description of a "mindfuck" scene and knew I had to share it with him. 

Oh gods. How he picked apart this writing? Totally hilarious. 
How he let his judgments roll on and on? Astounding. 
"That's what they think psychological play is? He's never peed on a girl in his life", was some of my favourite parts of the spiel that he came out with. 
He's a laidback guy, from all appearances not one to be commanding or to exude dominance at first glance.
In the past, the pair of us have been questioned. 
 And sometimes, I have wished for them all to see, *this*. 
Like how he expertly picked apart this writing, with the voice of experience. 
I wish they knew how he doesn't have to raise his voice to command me, it's the command I react to, his mastery over me does not call for a total and complete wrestling of strength or brawn. 

Has anyone else noticed Blogger eating comments this week? On Greengirl's blog, she repeated the question from Jz, of "Where does your submission come from?" I tired to answer, went back to follow up and realized that once again, my comment had disappeared. 

There are great truths in, tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé, ("you become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed", The Little Prince) and I thought of the weighty quote when I contemplated GG's question. 
 My submission is dictated by his dominance. 
That's what I know. There is no question, there. 
He sets the tone, he has the vision of where he wants us to be and I follow. Sometimes with a lot of kicking and screaming and resisting, but my submission is his to control and manipulate, to use and herd. 
While it's true,  I have always here and there felt like a submissive, having submissive tendencies or thoughts, etc, I knew I was a slave, until he enslaved me. 
Where does my submission come from?
Him. 
Because if he wasn't him, if there wasn't enough of him to kindle what matches in me, then we wouldn't be. It's like I might have had it all along, but he became my audience for the depths of my submission. 
I also think, there is truth in: Vous êtes responsable de ce que vous a apprivoisé ("you are responsible for what has tamed you"...wordplay there, I know) and there are few ties stronger than those. 
 Yet...there is tremendous power and relief, in knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that his love is not conditional on my slavehood. That if we had to ever, call a halt to this M/s stuff, that we would still find a way to be. 

300 posts. 
I started this blog, to learn how to talk about kink and D/s and M/s and BDSM and erotica and submission. I was trying to find my voice and work out the thoughts in my head...I needed an outlet. 
I couldn't have imagined the immense rewards I have experienced while being here. 

I hardly feel as if I have this right, I am no expert on any of this and I don't pretend it's all peachy when it's coming apart at the seams...so I am incredibly shocked that people started reading...and stayed reading....and followed me into the sphere of having a closed blog that is a little extra work to read. 

One of my worse traits, is starting a project only to abandon it...I'm grateful and happy I didn't abandon this one and that you my friends, didn't abandon me. 

Thank-you for reading. 

 




Wednesday, 13 August 2014

Tease

"Open. Take it."
I turned my face away and mewed.
Not that I thought there was any way in Hades I would win here, but you know, protestation is a part of it at times, when he allows it.
"Now Bleue. Open. Suck. Swallow".
He grabbed my chin and with his finger, pried my lips opened and nudged in the glass dildo.

We had just finished having sex. 
More accurately, he had just finished using me. 
What started off as a bit cautious, turned into something completely different. 
After a lot of fumbling, we found a position that I could hold, he entered from behind. 
It was pretty measured. 
Some hair pulling, hand on my collar but you know, for us? That's so light. 
But then...I had a horrible pain in my hip, that came out of nowhere.
And I shirked because it was so unexpected. 
I quickly squeaked out that I was fine. 
Did he stop?
 No. 
The pace changed, quicker, the thrusts came deeper, the holds on my hair and neck tighter, he smacked my ass and used me, hard. 
Me being in pain, brought out the sadist. 
And he went with it. 
Years ago? Oh, it would have been a different story. 
Now, I feel this sense of pride that he's okay with being him, in this way and he knows without a doubt, that I am okay with it, too. 

After he was finished with me, he used me, face hair and tongue to clean him up.
I was half-drowsing, when he pulled out this glass dildo. 
If I have to say it again--I am not a fan of insertables. 

He tortured me, making me suck the fake cock, delighting in my shame and sense of revulsion. 
And didn't that just send me into the happy sub-space.