Tuesday, 29 September 2015

Carrying On

He is a stupid, bastard narcissist and today I was really, really mad at him.
 He even said I had cause to be mad at him. Kind of out of the normal when one of those long standing codes of conduct was that I wasn't allowed to be mad at him.
But I was so madz.
Still kind of storming and stewing.
Because he did hurt me.
In the emotional way.
  In the way that every now and then causes me to wonder if this is a healthy relationship.
Doesn't much matter.
Not like there is anything I can do.
I may claw at the walls of my cage, but it is a cage and I'm in it and there is little I can do about that.

So...in other news...writing.

The well opened up and sprung forth an idea. Yea! IDEA. But it turns out, I can;t write. My opening lines suck, my plot sucks and I can't do this. Next time, I am going to ask the well for a damn instruction manual.

Sunday, 27 September 2015

How it is.

I won't leave.
No matter what happens.
He can do this and that.
We can bend and be at the breaking point.
But this is it for me.

I can think I am all independent.
I can think that I am all strong.
He has created dependency and my strength has been tapped.

For better or worse.
He owns me.

So...I just have to find a way to work in those confines.
And tonight I am clawing at the walls of my cage.

So...let's try the writing thing again.
Let's try and finish those spanking romance books.
Genre writing. Clean writing.

I can do this.

In the meanwhile....I landed on a new idea for a novel.
So that's something.

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

And this is...

A reminder.

I said something.
Might have been a little grumpy.
Might have been a little out of sorts.
Might have been a little close to the edge.

His hand, back of my neck, pressing me down. Fast.
Before the next words in my mouth could tumble out.
"Think. Are you making an actual contribution or are you acting out?"
Calling me on it.
I might have admitted to the pushing of buttons.
"Why? Is there something you wanted?"

Oh yeah...

Kinkery fuckery.
A magic wand.
A solution to all the damn problems.

The first two.
He did those.
Got an hour of kinkery fuckery, with breath play and forced orgasms followed by a round of forced penetration and a really good dose of beating on my lady parts.
 So not much of anything I liked.
He liked it very much.
That's all that mattered.

Monday, 21 September 2015

Then. Vs. Now.

There is a lot of talk on FetLife about how, nothing in this Universe should change or alter how your relationship is..if you are an M/s then nothing in life changes the dynamic.
And I get that line of thinking to a certain extent--I might have even been guilty of thinking that way back when we first decided to take our kink out of the bedroom--I thought it was, well set.
 But surrendering and being his slave has always been a process...its like little bits of me being constantly, consistently rearranged to accommodate the very big Him and the parts of me that he has taken that have morphed into us.
Can't keep surrendering the same thing if it isn't there.
And sorry, but life has changed me.
And him.
It changed when we went through the first job loss.
Few things are harder on a man than going through something that devalues his worth...or what he thinks is his worth.
It changed when we cared for an ill relative.
It grew deeper when we lost loved ones.
It ebbed and flowed when he decided where we were going to live, again and again and again.
 Our relationship definitely grew another dimension when we went through the second job loss.
He was stronger, his faith unshakable. My trust in his ability to provide had already been proven.
With every crisis, we got better at riding the storms.
We are brilliant at clinging to what are the essential things: Us. those we count as family. What we want. What we really need, which always boils down to each other.
Throughout this all though, I have been his.
His to do with what he wants..but and this is a key point,his to give and use as he sees fit. I was happy with the left over resources that he gave me.
So after his needs are met, mine were.
After he had taken his full, I scraped together free time and filled my own well, as he counted on me to do so.
He used me how and when and where he wanted and I was fine with that.
And chasing after his dreams, was enough for me because I still had something always in the background..those scrapes of free time, I always made the most of.
 His wants and needs were mine.

But with the pregnancy, suddenly I wanted his attention, in an emotional way. Man has never been great at that emotional level. Suddenly I couldn't focus on him as complete as we were used to me focusing on him and I couldn't meet all his needs.
I was also hormonal with a side of crazy.

Then the birth.
Key point: Somewhere in those days of labour and the birthing, where I felt amazing and supported, I also felt like me.
Like truly, truly me.
Just me.
Me. Me. Me.
The essence of who I was, before He came along and swallowed me, claimed me as His.
Then that glimpse of me, that knowledge of Self, was ripped away again when I became mama. There is no self in motherhood.
But I had waved at it.
And when I was reconnected to me in those few moments, I realized how much I had not been me or been His version of me.
I liked being His. I am His.
But in the postpartum period, all I could think of was that me and how I wasn't it and couldn't get back to that wholeness.
I wanted my needs met in an attempt to reconnect to the whole self. I wasn't interested in meeting his needs nor could I with the offspring that demanded all of my soul.
But it also demanded all of his soul.
 I wasn't in this parent thing alone--even though I felt like that often because I was consumed.
So yes.
Birth and mamahood changed me.
I felt differently.
So how He interacted with me, at times his partner, at times a wounded animal that he carefully and cautiously approached, at times his mate, at times a stranger unrecognizable in a maze of fog and pain, changed.
 How could we cling to what we had before, when life caused us to grow? Or maybe it is my curse of being the wounded healer that shakes us up and insists on living the fullness of these cycles.
He was living a perfectly normal, uncrazy life before he met me.

I read through Fet and I respond to discussions through this odd lens of Then Vs. Now and I interact with Him, more like his mate these days, but we still have moments where I am whiny and needy and clingy and it shocks us both.
Then Vs. Now and as the now changes and unfolds, I don't know which one is winning.
 I have always felt there wasn't a power exchange in M/s as much as it is a give.
I give. He takes and in doing so, gives back to me and continues to rearrange the pieces I had given over to him.
Being his slave, taught me to swallow my emotion and not react, not go off screaming into the night.
Being owned by him, meant accepting his imperfections and not having my own wants or needs be forefront.
But some days, in this Now, I want what I want and I am consumed by the need for attention and self-expression and I feel everything now as if I am in an empath's worst nightmare, as if it is day one all over again. Now, I want to matter.
 Then, it was only important that He mattered.
  He will sort it out but yes, it is different now than it was then.

Sunday, 20 September 2015

Longing for

I wish I could write.
I wish I could summon ideas that burst from my mind.
I wish my hand demanded to scrawl them out across the page.
I wish fictional worlds kept me up at night.
I wish I could discover the passion I once had....but it eludes me time and time again.

It leaves me frustrated.
Its part of this caged mind, I feel.
And it is part of the resentment...because as much as he might have been my target for the angry vibes, the resentment really lies in not always accepting what I have become.
I am angry for the allowance of becoming his at times because I have given up a lot more than I bargained for.

I wish I could just write.
I wish I had never lost that outlet, in pouring my heart into his creativity, in pouring my soul into his dream, I wish we had kept a little space for my own.

Wednesday, 16 September 2015

Ebb, Ebb, Ebb

He's been taking me back to him.
Giving me nothing, demanding everything.
My head on his lap. His hand on my head.
Sometimes, my cheek pressed into his thigh.
He talks.
I listen.
He asks and prods and pokes, taking it all.
 Not letting me retreat.
Not letting me hide away.

And those waves of guilt are still knocking me off my feet.
And I am still flinging my heart around as if I have it in spades...but that is me.

I talk to him about the guilt. How I wish we had handled it all differently. How I wish I had been able to hold on and stay grounded.
 Not me.
And all he has ever wanted me...the rarity. He may love me for the rarity and that involves enduring the chaos.
But I wish it was different.

"You want absolution Bleue? I'm not some holy man. You're not going to find it here."
It makes me laugh.
But its true.

I also chose the wrong path.
 Mine is more of the walking wounded type and keep on going.

In the past few months, in his emotional sadism, he has patched me up long enough to be useful to him.
Because he needed me. And I railed at the unfairness of that, to his chagrin and confusion--this is how we roll--this is that dark part of us that we don't discuss all that often--this is our extreme.

I've quivered like a bow and been flown and landed and came back to his hand.
Now I can stand steady enough to patch myself up.
Which is what he is used to.
Its how I roll.
Walking wounded.
Just another layer of amour.
Another battled in which I thrived.

A harder way because I don't know how to do it any other way.
No absolution.
But his steadiness. His support.
His love.

It might not be soul cleansing but it is soul affirming.
And its good enough for me.

Thursday, 10 September 2015


At the grocery store.
I forgot the list.
And a list is essential...the whole meal planning thing.

I recalled every item on the list.

I have recall back! Amazing.

If I could hug my brain, I would!!!!!

Tuesday, 8 September 2015


I wanted it to be a "yes".
I wanted to hear him say "yes".
I wanted him to tell me that he believed I could do this.
That he understood why it was important to me.
I wanted him to declare that I am patched up, healed enough.
So many reasons, that I wanted it to be a "yes".
I don't like breaking commitments.
It kind of goes against my whole loyalty thing.

He said all of that and more.
But the answer was a "no".
He needs me elsewhere.
He needs my energy in other places.
And then I was reminded, how all of that is at the root of being his.
He directs my will.
He's never tamed me, always accepted all of me, but only contained the chaotic fire and given it direction.
I was reminded, how his goal has always been a harmonious household.
The goal is to seek that highest form of wisdom, in finding our happiness--the combined happiness of his and mine.

"Stand down Bleue, this one isn't yours to fight."
Not what my spirit wanted to hear.
But all of this brought a turning point.
He is taking us somewhere new in our M/s.
It feels deeper, it feels like it will be more than it was before.

But I needed him to know my reasons for wanting to do this...so I could show him the fears.
The fear of not belonging.
The longing to find something, or someone, the need to find a community, suddenly being a solitary isn't where I want to be...not with BB.

He saw more than that and quelled the needs.
He calmed the emotional waves.
And I was reminded, how much he really does know me.

So I didn't rage or lash out at his decision.
And there is a serenity that has settled over me, in feeling once again his complete control.
I feel more owned now, than I ever did.
He knows that scares me to my core.
He doesn't care.
He is taking me further in, to the place only he can see, once again making his vision for us a reality.

Wednesday, 2 September 2015


He has a busy week.
Been distracted by all kinds of things.
He is going to be away for a few days.
I am torn about something pretty major...been batting it around in my head over and over again.
Want to talk it out.
There hasn't been time.
I need him to make a decision about it.
I just can't. At first he left it to me.
I asked that he take it away from me.
I asked, that he takes it out of my orbit and decide.
 It means I have to abide, by whatever his decision his.
Preferably without screaming, being combative or tantrums.

  Once upon a time, all of that was possible.
What life was before pregnancy is coming back and the waves of guilt I feel are knocking me off my feet.
From the third trimester on, I pushed him away.
It was bad, my friends.
 I wasn't pleasant, to put it mildly.
Oh the guilt.
Oh the wound licking as only an emotional masochist can.

There has always been an element of punishment to our dynamic. At first when we were making BDSM more of a thing than just in the bedroom, than when we established a D/s relationship, then over the last few years as we grew into M/s and a much more Owner/property dynamic. How the punishments were used, as changed with each stage of us.
But it has been there.
It was used to bring me back to heel, when he needed to make a point, early on to establish boundaries and submission and a lot of the time it worked. It worked when I did something that upset him.
 As we grew, the occurrences of where he actually used punishment faded. Always he talked more, always we discussed and kink/play was used as an outlet.
When I was pregnant he wouldn't beat me.
We lost a lot of our outlet, a lot of our communication became skewed.
He tried to come at me with force, and I reacted in the very opposite way that he wanted.
We struggled.
But the truth is?
 I needed him closer.
I needed more.
It was just the how of that more....
But I did everything I could to push him away.

A couple of months ago, I said to him, "I don't think I can have punishment as part of our dynamic" this was when I couldn't process pain and we were talking about things.
It gave him pause.
We haven't talked about it since.

Even though he hasn't used it in a very,very,very long time, it remained there.
And it was the show of force that made me retreat.

Anyways, there is a glorious discussion on Fetlife on punishment and negative reinforcement that has given a lot to think about and has put into words what I have been struggling to articulate.

I have to wait for him to read it.

Tuesday, 1 September 2015

Drops of Clarity~~Strength

Well, I had a moment of insightful clarity but that was before baby fed for 10 hours straight.
 Little crying though so I'm grateful for that and we will get through this.

I went back to yoga on the weekend. My yoga from back when I took prenatal yoga, offers postnatal yoga classes.
I should have gone before.
Mind you, I have only recently been able to leave baby for an hour (without following behind them) with Dad and we have been working up to it.

So I went and did yoga.
And was surprised at how strong I felt.
Like, really, really strong.
Stronger than before pregnancy.

Amazed at how well I could balance and flow and move.
It felt great.
This class is designed for postbaby and targets all the areas affected by the aftermaths. It begins with a 'talking circle' and ends with smudging.
 I might be one to scoff at such things but it was really lovely.

It was the longest I left Baby Bleu but he was perfectly fine and they had a good time together. It went well and I was looking forward to going next week.

Then realized I couldn't.
Because Horus has a thing.
And that leaves me without babycare.

I felt sulky about this.
Couldn't tell if it was because I couldn't go to class, the fact that I didn't have babycare, or that we were putting his thing first.

It was probably a combination of all of those.
But I signed up for baby and I am totally okay with missing out on stuff. Baby is awesome.
 Besides, its not like I am missing a once in a lifetime opportunity, its just yoga class.
And I did sign up for putting his things first.

Ahhh. But in the months of pregnancy and postpartum, there has been a lot of strong adverse feelings to that as my life. Putting him and his stuff first didn't sit well with me.
 I didn't feel as I was getting enough out of it as I was putting into it, I felt unappreciated at times, useless at others, unrecognised, the feeling of just having a duty and being nothing more than that duty.

Pregnancy made me into someone who needed more.
Needed more nurturing, more reassurance, more recognition, more validation, just more...and carried on to the postpartum period with further complications of being a traumatised mess.

We lost our ebb and flow.
Because...he expects me to be strong.
Emotional, crazy, yes, but strong.
I have always looked after my own bubbling cauldron.
He's made sure I have had the space to maintain the cauldron, he's added to the cauldron, he's made sure I have a safe woods in which to stir the cauldron, but the feeding, care, planning and looking after the cauldron has always been my gig. If there is something I need for the cauldron, he expects me to ask and I am the one who feeds him from the cauldron. I'm the organizer of plans, the one who keeps the current flowing. I'm the seer, the one who glazes into the cauldron and brings him the information. My ability to look, to organize, to plan, to have my brain turned on by him and for him, is returning. It's been absent.
 He goes out and do thing.
Gets things.
Obtains things.
Conquers things.

So...though he was used to me being emotional, and temperamental, he was not used me not flowing within my own space. Not used to be not being strong and neither of us really knew what was happening, while it was happening and we did the best we could. Because of course, priorities shifted and us, didn';t matter. The offspring mattered and it was all consuming as tiny humans can be.

It then started me thinking on how I may not be at all submissive, but I think more of being his property....his slave.

He loves me for my strength and fire.
He knows that when I surrender, what it is I am laying at his feet.
He is strong enough to know what to do with me, all of me and how to direct that fire and keep that cauldron from bubbling over--unless he wants it to, which sometimes he has.

Physical intimacy between us has been hit or miss. But an intimacy of another kind is emerging, more of an emotional one, because the last few months with all the missed tidings, has caused us to be more honest with each other, more direct, more concise.
It truly is a third courtship.

Last night he went out to a workshop, leaving me at night.
He brought me back a latte.
 Give and take, has always been a cornerstone...its how it manifests that was lost on me, during these months, I just needed more and didn't know how I needed more.

Can we get back to the intimate, intense M/s we had before? Is it all lost?
I don't know.
As he takes the reins back, implementing his expectations and showing his control, I think, yes, its still there.
When I am exhausted and cranky form being up all night, sustaining a little creature, I doubt it because the energy it takes, I clearly don't have in the moment.