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. 


Monday, 11 August 2014

Opposite Sides

Again, emotionally hung-over.
But today, it's in a good way--the way of having had a good weekend, despite it all and trying to reset for the week ahead--we can call that cleansing. 
He did take the edge off. A little bit, anyways.
And I wonder about that pattern.
Something tips the calm into the crazy and it gets to me, we argue, we fuck, he beats my ass, life goes on.
Over simplified why of summing it up, yes, but true all the same. 

Today is a full on work day, mostly for the business. 
I'm responding to enquiries, sending emails on his behalf, a list of phone calls to be made, it's all very much life as usual. 
Except, we thought this part of the season would be quiet and we were so wrong. 

There are some things I will send to the right people, on his behalf as his assistant, other missives or documents that I'll draft that just look better coming from him and sometimes, it's a head scratcher to figure out which will work best. 


Do I have a point to any of this?
Well, it does bring to mind priorities. 

I have a full day of work for him, as well as having to reset the Hovel in pristine condition after the weekend, and bake for one of his work meetings and of course, there is dinner to get to. 

With all of that, I have no time for my own stuff...and time management is my strength.

No time to work on the book, no time to feed into my own business. 
He comes first. 
Not only does he come first, but his priorities and what he decides are priorities come first. 
He absolutely has the say in where our energies are being put and directed.

I'm rather harshly reminded of this, in light of the end of the past week. 
He's right. This is exactly what I signed on for, but when there is a dip in the levels, when something upsets me, it is one of the things I point to--because my priorities don't matter. They don't matter, first at least. 
 It's one of the aspect of M/s that I do struggle with.

 Most of the time, when it does bother me, I kind of slough through and carry on. 
Sometimes, it bothers me and he knows we need to address it. 
Other times, it very much bothers me and makes me just loose it...which he has little patience for and is quick to remind me of my place. 

That was all before the surge of hormones, of course, because now all my mind is on is childling....though I have to say, over the weekend, there was a shift. 
 His mind is now wholly on childling. 
We bought a couple of things over the weekend--a pair of blankets, a shirt, because I thought that maybe it would help soothe a little uneasiness and it did. We had a great time exploring, too.
But...it has seemed to have quite the affect...

My mind? Oh, so not there at the moment. 
Oh no. 
I want sex. I want dirty, rough sex, I want scenes where he does dirty, lovely degrading, humiliating things to me, where he hurts me and ravishes me and inflicts pain and pushes me past my boundaries and I want it all, now. 
   I guess my on and off sex drive for these past few months has decided to descend all at once with the "on" button firmly lit up. 

So...we are back to me wanting something and him not wanting the same thing I do at the moment, back to priorities being at opposite ends of the list. 

In the end though? 
 It comes down to wanting the same things and being on the same page. It's about harmony and functioning as the super-power unit we do...but it is always, always about what he wants. 


How 'bout that moon? 



Friday, 8 August 2014

Friday Fragments: Shove

Feeling emotionally hung-over. 
Because it's been that kind of week. 
It was that kind of night. 
He managed to pull me out of the emotional tailspin, but I think exhaustion was what propelled me out of it. 
Arguing for hours, into the small hours of the morning, will do that. 
About what?
Same thing that we always argue about. 

He is taking his time. Stuff needs to be done. 
He won't do it because he won't do it--or that's how it feels.
Earlier in the week--because this was the second time--when I kind of had a mini melt down about something so small and inconsequential but important not being done, he did it. 
I might have pointed out that it's when I get to the point of being in tears and mad with frustration, that that's what moves him. 
He denied that's how it was and told me that honestly, it just wasn't a priority for him--which is the problem. 
It's a stupid argument, either way. 
And horribly frustrating. 
To make it better? He has a pretty big work thing today. 
So now I feel like the Worst Wife Ever.

My slave self...needs...his control and mastery. 
It's there, always but you know, it's been a week. 
There is a huge part of me, that would like nothing more than to play in public. 
But it's been a very long while since we've soicalized. 
And also? Highly doubt others would be comfortable with the state I'm in. 
A good humiliation scene would also probably take the edge off..but you know...

So instead, I'm comforting myself with a cup of black tea.
That's all I got

Oh...I missed a blogging milestone this week....any ideas on how to mark a 300th post? Because I would like to, even though technically I missed it. 
 I don't think I want to do a list of 300 things...suggestions? 



Tuesday, 5 August 2014

On Being Owned...

As someone who absolutely thrives on change--the more constant, the happier I am--what I love about M/s is how it changes. Constantly. 
Sometimes over time. 
Sometimes, little by little. 
The changes are always discernible because... 
I can feel them in the depth of my soul. 
They pull and tug at the fabric of the relationship we have created. 
The changes, always highlight our strong foundation. 
The growth that both of us experience from whatever change happens, is obvious..it is there in our language, in our gestures...another plateau reached, another depth discovered. 

There is no question, that I am His.
That I have felt owned, for a long while now....I felt owned when he claimed me, many years ago. I felt owned when he outright rescued me. 
I felt owned, in a whole other way, when he made me his wife. 
I felt owned when he called me "slave" for the first time. 
And when he set his collar on my neck, my whole being knew I was owned, permanently his and this was, everything. 
Everything I am, everywhere I have been and everywhere I will go, it's absolutely my everything. 

So the ways and the events that have led me to feeling owned, have changed and often times, they have marked a turning point or a period of growth in our M/s dynamic. 
I vividly remember last year, when one point of growth happened. 
I still don't have words to describe that October night...but only know, that there was acceptance as pure as light that allowed him into a further part of my soul. Maybe a part that I had held off from him all this time. Maybe a part I wanted as just mine. 
When he came into that space and was made welcome and when I realized, with the knowing that is innate to me, that this was how it was supposed to be all along, my being became even more his. 

But now...as we are counting down the weeks and as one of us is looking forward to winter for the first time, ever...and even though the changes that are surely going to descend are unknown and are going to throw us in new places...and there is a gazillion details and furniture to be rearranged... 
 I am owned. 
More so than I ever have before, in a new way than I have before. 
 I am so his
And this is ours. 
And the world can flood around us. 
But it doesn't matter. 
We are entrenched in each other, the dance of claiming and being claimed keeps moving forward, under the mantle of being owned. 


Friday, 1 August 2014

Friday Fragments: Bread and Pie

I've been on edge this week. 
Feeling frustrated and agitated and consumed with all the pieces and parts that are laying about that aren't done. I feel like all we have done is laid plans, plan and more planning and it's over all planned. 
 As an empath, the question always is, "Is it mine?" the resounding answer this week for me, is no. Not at all. Some, but not all. 

 My slave mind has been absent this week. 
I've been irritable and grumpy, quick to snap and give in to bouts of temper. 
Nothing huge, I didn't loose it completely--might have been better if I had--I didn't unleash into emotional furry but exemplary behaviour it was not. 

I desperately want, need to feel the sting of leather across my skin. 
I want to kneel, with all abandon at his feet. 
I want to be taken in, taken hold and taken to the edge and back again. 

But kneeling is...oh it's amusing to even attempt it right now. 
And he has been working late and long and there has been no time for play. 
It makes me feel worst, knowing that I whined and complained about all that is undone, when I could have been more of the silent, supportive other half. 

According to the Wheel, it's the first harvest. 
When I first announced that I was expecting, I got so many responses and grimaces of sympathy about having to endure the summer. 
And yes, for the first time ever, I have felt the heat and also for the first time, have found it very hard to deal with. 
But you know one of the best parts about summer, especially expecting during summer?
An abundance of fresh, local fruit.

 But also weighted reminders of time passing all too quickly. 

So tonight, I will make a loaf of challah and work through my frustrations as I braid the strands of dough. And I have a suspicion, that there will be another apple pie creation. 

*

Have a lovely weekend, my friends!