Wednesday, 30 November 2016


Kind of starting from the end with this one because that`s how its in my head.

I`m running on too little sleep, coming down with something viral and keeping the waves of panic at bay best I might. I have been using distraction a lot, which is only a band-aid, I know but its been a hectic week. 
He has needed me this week. 

There hasn`t been any time for me to process or fall into one big mess, which is how the big panicky waves are threatening to leave me if I stood still long enough for them to overtake me.. There hasn`t been time to stand still.

My day started at 4am, not by choice. This is where you tell me, there will be sleep one day. I know, I will miss it, I already do as its fleeting...but sleep.

He took over for me, letting me rest, it didn't work out that way but it was a nice gesture. He also gave me time this afternoon and if I wasn't so exhausted it would have been good downtime (see? He has saintly qualities).

"Paddle or plug?"
He asked me last night.
We were lounging together all casual and entwined like.
I protested because I dislike anything with a 'choose your own theme' and it was all very fun and light.
He insisted.
I choose plug.
Not my fav but I do not like the heavy paddle He was twirling.

 It was funny to watch Him try and find the toys. Our gear needs one heck of a make-over and all the things are in a mess and it drives Him kind of batty (why was I lazing and around watching? Coz it would have driven him crazy if I had helped) His space isn't organized at the moment.

He couldn't find a plug.
Too bad.
Wanted to gag me.
Couldn't find the gags.
He grabbed a roll of painters tape and tapped my mouth.
Started paddling me to my muffled protests.

He continued tormenting me.
At one point, He flipped me over, had me stay still.
He turned his back to me, picked up an object and came at me.
Cue Bleue freaking out as He came at my taped mouth with something sharp and shiny.
I think I actually started sweating.

It was a pin.
His plan as to pinprick the tape on my mouth and elsewhere.
A teeny-tiny rather harmless pin.

I was kind of half-way into floaty land.
And we do know I'm an emotional wreck this week, yah? But seriously: a pin.

I ran pulled as far away from Him as I could.
"Bleue, I'm not going to harm you", He pulled the tape off my mouth, hugged me hard.
I pushed Him away.
"No, go. I'm not doing this. Stop."
He held me.
"Sorry my dear Bleue, but I have plans for you."
"You don't have a choice", He kissed me and stroked me and named all my parts and told me they were all His.
"I own you. That means I do what I want", He put his finger down my throat and pulled on my ladybits.
I had chilled.
 The rest of it was pleasant.
He hurt me and used me and pounded me and did other things that make me feel as if I have been stretched on a rack, and it felt right and normal and fine.
More than fine. There was a cookie.

He knew to push on.
 I trusted enough to give over.

 The times when I worked so hard to push Him away, were the times I needed Him to stay by my side.

Tuesday, 29 November 2016

Surprise from the Archives

It has been a long while since I was a new blogger, giving my stats any thought.
I write for me these days--for you---but mostly for me.
I get email and I love comments and that's good enough for me, I don't care if 3 people stopped by or 103.

But you do notice increase activity, especially when its on one post.
Especially when its on one post from 2013.

This post: Getting Edgy Thoughts on Humiliation Play had 120 views yesterday. 

That leads me to believe that someone, somewhere, shared it but I can't see who did or where the views originate from.

So thank-you to whomever shared that post!!!

It was a nice surprise and it took me down memory lane in the best of ways, 2013 was a good year for us. Reading that post brought back that day, sharp in my memory and made me smile. 

Monday, 28 November 2016

He answers.

(Because you know, this is the week of puppies and kittens or emotional spew. He played along with this meme! Thank-you for indulging me, Owner!)

What is something I always say?

What can I have for snack?

What makes me happy?

Walking with me with a latte in your hand.

What makes me sad?

Running out of tea.

How tall am I?


What is my favourite thing to do?

Go for a drive with me.

What do I do when you are not around?


If I become famous what would it be for?

Something super cool.

What makes you proud of me?

Your determination. And research-bunny skills.

What is my favourite food?

Something I can't make and can't find out how to make which irritates me. (true. Its a dish my mum used to make)

What is my favourite restaurant?

Any breakfast place.

Where is my favourite place to visit?


If I could go anywhere where would it be?


How do I annoy you?

By leaving tea bags in the sink.

What's my favourite film?

Jim Henson's Labyrinth.

You get a phone call that I'm in trouble. Who will I be with?

My sister.  (true. Everyone else is too responsible or wouldn't tell if we were in trouble)

Saturday, 26 November 2016

Remorse, Repair, Reflections, Resolutions

The flame is low on the cauldron of anger at the moment. There is so much about anger that I have learned, having become intimate with it over these long months.
 Different degrees, different shades, different intensity.

 I remember when the rage finally burned low--not out but low enough that I could laugh without it being tainted the next the moment. It literally was like a switch going off. Relief, that's another 'R' I could add to this list because the relief of not having that rage consume me from the inside out is glorious.

This latest bout of anger, blew the cobwebs away. It actually brought clarity to tangled mess of half formed thoughts and bits of intuition that wasn't quite piecing together to be anything other than wisps. 
So along with the clarification, the seeing what had to be done, brought a hefty dose of remorse.
He hurt me but I hurt him. And I know he saw my reaction to the hurt he caused as being overblown. He also saw it as rejecting him, putting conditions on him on...and worse, me putting conditions on how I love him. There is truth there. Remorse, yes, I have a lot of remorse for that one.

But it was not my intent. 
 I don't know what to do with that kind of anger, of the anger that comes from being hurt by him. I don't know where to put it, other than direct it at him and that's not the solution and leads us to be two steps back from the steps forward we have made, or were making before an interruption occurred.

Last year, we were so focused on healing the physical. On just surviving and when we came out of that, I think both of us were surprised, but differently so, to find our dynamic, our marriage, wasn't exactly where we left it. 

This year, has been about coming to terms with that, growing from that and working for stability. I swear that at the same time as this has been bumpy, it has also shown me that our foundation is as strong as I believed it to be because at moments, its that which has cradled me.

There has always been an inherent inequality to our dynamic, a double standard, even before we were BDSM in the bedroom, before we were D/s, way before we were CNC...its just how we have flowed. He set that tone early on.
Arguments and conflicts were few and far between.
He always was able to bring me back and centre, in the middle of whatever emotional storm I was riding.

He would do that either by using the constructs of our dynamic, using kink as a tool or by breaking the tension, or by just being my calm.
All of that is still present. But the access to that, is not the same. So as time went on we forgot how to solve conflict, how to repair.

He has been so concerned about my well-being and so focused on fixing it all--understandably---that sometimes we've responded to what is there at the moment but haven't connected.

I think that just comes with the life we have now, too.

We are learning how to connect again, how to repair, how to be each other's place again.
It might be a bumpy place but its not awful or bad or horrible. This makes up maybe a tenth of what goes on in life---the 90% that I don't write about is pretty good.

Its the time of year where the pool of reflection is active for me, stuff is rising to the surface.
And while all of that is happening, I'm being his seer and cheerleader and doing all the things I signed up for, because I haven't figured out how not to do that, I don't think I can no matter how wounded I may be walking.

That sounds more morose than I am feeling, so I'll end this post with a picture of  a thing that makes me happy.

Sunday, 20 November 2016

Just of those...

Soul-crushing, awful, horrible, stupid day.

Because its up and down.

But gods, I don't know how many more days like this I can take.

The Cookie

Back when we used to go to munches and kink events, (*sobs*) you would often hear the ubiquitous comments about the sub getting a cookie, in a wink, wink, nudge nudge euphemism kind of way.

Naturally, this caused me to internally roll my eyes.
Like, we can't say the word "orgasm"?

Cookies are amazing.Take it from someone whose household has been sugar-free except occasionally after midnight for two years, sugar is awesome.

Also in this household, orgasms are optional and my chances of getting a dessert are probably far better.

I'm so happy that Jz is once again hosting the Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza, the instructions are below! This is so much fun! Come and join us! Contact JZ if you want to add your sugar to the pile.

On Wednesday, December 7th 2016,
The seventh celebration of the increasingly inaccurately named
Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza
And I hope that you (yes, you!) will join us.

The rules are pretty simple:

1- Post a recipe on that day for a holiday goodie.

That’s it - rules finished.
*dusts off hands*

The goodie doesn't have to a cookie… or even be sweet.
That, in fact, is where the increasing inaccuracy comes in - because we have all KINDS of goodies on offer! (There are many forms of holiday goodie love, after all.)

The one catch is that if you want to get your name on the official list of participants:
You must contact me (Jz) by Monday, Dec. 5th, with both your name and the address of your blog. (I don’t mind if you do this through the comments section below, but if you do, please make sure that you include an email address at which I can reach you. << why I prefer an email - two birds with one cyber-stone.)

I'll also be happy to post a recipe for anyone who'd rather participate that way.

I hope to hear from you (yes, you!) soon!


Friday, 18 November 2016

LOL DAYS 11: Love Our Lurkers 11 November 18-19, 2016


I am so happy you are here.
I don't know what I would do without this place.

And all of you, the ones who read and stay and linger, the ones who flip quickly through, the ones who read it all without ever saying a word, are the ones that are a big part of this place, too.

I know, I know.
 I left for awhile.

And my emotions that are as fickle as the weather, may often leave you to believe that I'm outta here again.
But I do always come back.
One way or another.

You have some of my soul.

Today's your day!

The day we say, THANK-YOU for reading.

And the day we also invite you to break the wall.
C'mon, you can doooo iiiiitttt. Leave a comment or two? Pretty please.

I would offer to dance a jig but picture a spastic giraffe wearing heels and you'll see that won't be a pretty picture.
I invite you to say something, anything: three words about yourself? ask me anything? tell me why you read here? share a link?
 You can even comment anonymously if it makes you feel more comfortable.

Please? Maybe?

You could.....just today or tomorrow? Then we never have to speak, ever again?
But we could.

If you have read here for more than five minutes then you know that I've turned into a total needy-attention-whore-basket.

If you never say a word, please take to heart my sincere thanks for being here.

Happy LOL Days one and all.

Wednesday, 16 November 2016

Over the Halt

(Love Our Lurkers Day is coming! Its that day or in this days where we cajole our silent readers to come out...come out and interact..details here. I  would love to hear from you all!!! *crosses fingers* and if you are new here, the About Us has been updated)

He had me held.
And withering.
And protesting.
He wasn't complaining about my protesting.
He likes the protest, sometimes. |
I like the "make me do it", more than I care to admit.

He had all my parts spread.
It kind of made the protests simmer down.
Funny how that happens, yes?

He forced me.
And said all the things to me
And took me there...almost there
Not completely, utterly there
But oh so close then

He spat into my holes.

You know how there are things that changes how the scene unfolds? That did it.
But it was mental---I had to mentally fight to accept that this was happening, that the bastard went and did this and I was kind of eeeked out by it.
He didn't care....if he noticed my subtle reaction...and I'm sure it was noticed.

He just continued on and had his way with me.

Walls, falling, will giving over. Me submitting when I don't want to....might be beginning to look like more of that surrendering thing.

All good.

Monday, 14 November 2016

The Ebb of Devotion

In one of the training modules I'm in right now, on occasion someone will ask a question of the group about something that happened in their life, usually its a conflict between spouses and have others chime in because developing empathetic, conflict resolution type skills is part of the deal. This is a large group and a real life, face to face thing.

I of course have never shared (because that's what I have you all for and really? What am I going to share? "my mate is being a world class ass and I am struggling with how to take it and be slave?" *snorts*) I mostly show up and listen.

One woman shared that her husband was driving home from being out of province for a few days. The rig he was driving hit something on the highway. It was raining heavily that evening. Her husband had a tow on the way but called her asked her to come and pick him up. For her to go out in the middle of the night, would mean she would have to bundle up her kiddos, one in arms, one just walking and drive two hours to get her husband.

She was wondering what to do.

The replies were overwhelmingly for her to stay home, with the kids and how it was unfair of her husband to ask her to go out in the middle of the night.

I sat there thinking.

Thinking if I would bundle everyone up in the middle of the night and go get my mate. Thinking that I would have, without question two years ago and my only concern would have been for how he was feeling and if he was okay.

He asked me to pass him the bread last night and I sighed.

I came to the conclusion, that I would absolutely go and get him in the pouring rain, in the middle of the night--but if I am honest, I wouldn't do it without a whole lot of complaining.

And I thought: How did that go? How did I loose that willingness that would make me drop everything for him and keep my mouth shut, to now where I struggle to full fill simple asks of him?


I always thought of service in kind of a devotional sense, because making sure his life was easier and I was supporting him in whatever ways he needed, was enough for me. It wasn't always fun or convenient but it was full filling. I wasn't driven by rewards or praise or what was in it for me, propping him up was enough, I found purpose and joy in that and in many ways, he gave me back what I gave him. He gave back by showing me that I was enough, by making me feel that being who I am was something valued and what I was doing was appreciated.

Its starting to come back, as we carve out more space and time for each other, it is starting to be there. Its an ongoing rearrangement, in progress kind of thing.

But as much as I am his, he is also mine. And you have to show up for yours. Whether its the middle of the night or whether its being there long after you wished you were already in bed.

For both situations, that's why coffee exists.

Thursday, 10 November 2016

Friday Fragments: Oh Resilience

Its a thing.
Its something that I felt I kind of lost last year in the pp fog.

It takes energy to spring back into shape.
It takes a certain kind of willpower to shove it all to the side and to grasp hold to that "fuck this shit" mentality.
And what trips me up every time, what takes me longer to get to a pile of nothingness to that fortification to get back into battle shape, where I can at least feel like joining the fray again, is making peace with where I am.

It sounds ridiculous. And new-agey. And more ridiculous.

But when a friend said to me recently, "You're still getting over the post-partum crap, your marriage is in a very bumpy phase, and everything in life is up in the air", I got it.
I might have been a little jarred. I might have felt a little teary eyed.
There is something about having your life, summed up tidily reflected back to you like that.
It was a kindness though, that summary saved me from my self. Twice.
Made me think, "Oh right. I don't have to join the fray. Or at least that fray."
I am where I am and that's okay.
I'm muddling through the days in a state of exhaustion.
Its not all bad, all the time.
Sometimes, its really bad, then I scrawl here about it all.
Then those are those wild, crazy, breathtaking moments.
Those moments that bring me back to me, those moments that show me this is why I am doing what I am doing and those moments are enough to get me through. Most of the time.
But making peace with where I am, lets my resilience rise up and claim me once more again.
Its kind of like this. But without the ninja moves.

Wishing you all a healthy dose of resilience, my friends.

Saturday, 5 November 2016

The Afters

We have been in the thick of it for several weeks, this new crisis.
I haven't written much about it because: Oh. Look. Another. Crisis.

And because my head might not be in the greatest place, I might still be struggling with the confines of my bonds but I am renewing my acceptance on those things as well. Working on it.

And it doesn't change anything for me. It makes life a little more uncomfortable, yes, but you know, I'm along for the ride, regardless.

I've been doing my utmost to be supportive.
To watch my words.
 To be really mindful of the weight on His shoulders on not add to it.

Not so easy. It should be.
But all of that takes a different focus than it once did.

So me hurting, the hurt I wrote about? Has nothing to do with the crisis.

It has to do with me struggling.
 It has to do with me not having the same tools, the same coping mechanisms.
I need to build new ones.

He hurt me.
But it takes two.
And maybe I had that one moment of letting it all get to me and maybe I pushed too far--not meaning too---and He did what He did.

But here's the thing: He can.
Its always been a double-standard.
I have no recourse to Him hurting me, other than He has to deal with the emotional fall-out.

But it doesn't move me to a different place.
I have to suck it up and let go and forgive Him and roll with it.

Him playing me hard, using me hard, didn't change where my head was.
Well, it didn't change the inner struggles, the conflict.
It did break through to more open communication.
It did remind me of my place.
It did make accepting these bonds easier, once more, so in that sense it did take the edge off.

But it didn't ease what I'm struggling with, because its really my struggle, my conflict.

He knew where my head was, when He played with me in that way.
He knew He would have to deal with the emotional fall-out--and there was a little bit.

If you are wondering: Nope don't recommend it.

He thought it was what I needed.
But this is the not-so-sexy of living a consensual-non-consent: If I was given a choice, I would have said, "no".

Play isn't a magic wand, but it can be a balm to the soul.
For us, it has always been the space where we hash it all out, the space we come together, the place He takes me and bends me and gets into my head, again and again and again and there, my resistance is gone.

So what do you do? How do you deal with your Domly one doing something that hurts you?

You learn to forgive.
You learn to let it go.
And if you're me, your acceptance grows of this being your reality.

Thursday, 3 November 2016

Like Being New...

                                                     The words?
                                                     Don't have them. 

He used me hard. He played with me hard. 
Its been ages and ages and ages.

But that drop? Its an actual thing.
Its kinda doing my head it a bit.

Wednesday, 2 November 2016

Raw and Beautiful

Taking a break from my blogging break because I was randomly scrolling through social media and was hit upside the head.
This is a bit touchy-feely for me but poignant at the same time.

I know many in this community, where this has not been your year, either. 
And the holidays are always hard to navigate in the midst of struggle.

So I wanted to pass this on because maybe it will reach someone who needs it.

"To anyone who may need a bit of help this year, whether that is financially, with a particular gift, with a meal, with a love note, with anything at all, and to those who may have a little extra to give...""

You know what made me check myself and prompt this post though? Reading the posts from people where the requests weren't ones that could be solved by monetary help but people asking for connection. People reaching out for support, encouragement, ease of their loneliness.

And then I realized, how much I have done that myself in the last couple of years and thank-god for this Blogging community because its been here where I have found those things I have needed.

Its not surprising to me though, that I have found those things here.
 Those of us who involve kink, M/s in our, lives, are practiced at risking vulnerability and are sensitive to respond when we see it. I'm probably not expressing what I mean, in the best words, but hoping my intent comes across.

This also made me reflect to where I am now and what I need, in terms of connections.
What I need for my own self and what I need for my own relationship. 

If I was feeling braver, I would let you know. 
But its hard to continually ask. 
Its hard to risk that vulnerability. 
Its hard to constantly be the initiator. 

Its hard to believe what I need is valid.
Even after all the practise I've had at it, this is hard.

"Connection in an isolating age"... may there be more of it.