Thursday, 25 May 2017

Service and the rest

Middle of the night.
BB is wheezing and snorting in his sleep.
a cold.
Its a rare occurrence.
And I'm trying to calm down the hind brain.

Came out into the kitchen.
Pulled a mason jar of bone broth out of the freezer.
Because, soup is the answer.

I'll ask him to go to the store before work to pick up a handful of veg--the long weekend threw us off the typical course of restocking.
And I would rather not take BB out in the pouring rain.
But I will feel guilty for asking him to run an errand before he starts his work day.

I know he won't mind.

Doesn't matter.

I'll make soup.
And BB will be over whatever it is, in like a day or two.

Me of course, will come down with the plague.
Because I still feed him with my body so its impossible not to catch whatever it is he has and I think through healing BB, with those magical antibodies, my body absorbs it all (my scientific facts on that are sketchy but mama experience trumps that *nods*).

I remember one blog friend, commenting while I was pregnant with BB that they couldn't imagine M/s while their family was young. The emotional energy it takes to sustain the offspring and the focus and space M/s takes is too much of a balancing act.

And the truth is, I think it is.
Our family is young. We are in that stage of raising and growing and keeping the tiny humans alive.
That, of course trumps everything else.

Slowly though, I think we are pulling in some of that connection. Those reminders that we still are us, we still are what we are to each other.
Its not as pure as it was.
He can't be my all, my everything. There isn't space for him to take over my brain.
But the reminders that he was--and still is beyond the current is important.
And I still have issues with giving over the same amount of control and willpower I once entrusted him with.
But...feeling the yank and pull.
Giving over to him in little ways.
Him learning to compromise with me in little and big ways.

We are united in the goal of keeping the tiny human alive.

That has been our saving grace.

As I ponder what I need and as our family shifts, I'm beginning to sense a new place where I want to be. I want to be that living breathing hearthsapce, that centre.

Which brings me to this comment by dear M, that over two years later, still lingers in my mind:

" Could you see the mama thing as being part of the wife/slave thing? I mean, you're nurturing his child. That's a pretty big service you're giving there,no?! Now I know you do it for the sake of the baby himself, but there might be an aspect of doing at his behest too?
maybe he could see it that way, too? maybe he already sees it that way?"

I'm starting to and that's starting to grow into a new frame, for me.
He does see it that way.
And in many ways, I have never felt more like his property than when doing all those daily grinding mama things.

Wednesday, 24 May 2017

the X

It should be really simple.
But of course, it isn't.

I've been asking for more, I've been wanting more, I've been spinning in my own world, casting about for more.

He gave me more.
 Implemented something.
 He wants me to do x.
X didn't sit well with me, I protested x.
I cried about x, I twisted away from him in a futile attempt to keep him from mentioning x.

He kept on, though.
To the point where I was spent.
"You wrecked me", I said through tears.
"Its what I do", he said simply.
Its true.
Its how he gets into my head, its how he pushes past my defences.

This part doesn't feel comfortable or good or pleasing or enjoyment
or bliss.
It feels wrecked.

If x was something for him, I think it would have been different.
I think I would have added it to my juggling plates without a protest.
He did ask me to do something new for him and I didn't have any resistance--it was in fact, just another thing that didn't alter my status quo.

But this x wasn't for him.
It was for me.
He got personal.
Went straight for the heart.

I felt awful about my reaction.
But yet, whenever he asks me about x I can't quite drop the defences.
I get all snarly.
That's not the response he's going for.
Its not exactly the response I want to give, either.

Monday, 22 May 2017


He knew what I wanted but made me ask.
He's a bastard like that.
Asking involves opening up.
Asking involves being vulnerable and honest.
Asking involves taking that risk.
Asking generates the ebb and flow of the power exchange.
Asking fuels it, makes it live and breathe.
I asked.

It was sweet.
It was good.
It was rough.
Pulling my pussy lips apart and twisting my tongue and slapping my breasts, kind of good.
Withering on the floor, at his feet, asking for more, kind of good.

"More", I said.
More, debasement, more humiliation, more being taken.
"How much more do you need?" He grinned.
"So much more. I'm a greedy attention seeking humiliation slut."
He laughed and indulged me.

I felt the armour crumble.
He found his way in.
We might not have what we did, but the foundation is still there.

It took years of his training, for me to spill out words like those and there is comfort in knowing that I still can, at his command.

Saturday, 20 May 2017


In so many ways, I feel like I am living every letter of those words.

It might be easy to look in from the outside and claim that we are not what we are, and it might be true. It might be the impression I leave you with. It might be easy to say we can never be what we were again and that might be true, too.

But, a relantionship only belongs to the people who are in it. He has not changed our terms and as much as I might resent that and wish it were different, the fact is, he is the only one who gets to make that call.

In many ways, I feel like this time is testing my mettle. My past claims of devotion and loyalty and slavery, it may not be kinky marathon times but it is in a way, a time of relearning each other. He is slowly allowing that I need boundaries. And that's weird for both of us but if our goal, like it has been, is a harmonious relantionship, in a harmonious household and the pursuit of both of our happiness, then that bend has to be made--my health requires it.

This is a different time that we are in and its new.
Just like the beginning where there was struggle and inner conflict, there is now.
We haven't been here before.
But its not all that bad.
If its not the all consuming-intensity of our past M/s, it is still real, it is still us. The core is there, if the undertones have changed to be more subtle and sweeter.

I want to find my way back. I'm waiting for him to reclaim me.
I want to feel the surety of his strength and love and I want to feel that sense of being owned that I've been hungry for.

Thursday, 18 May 2017

The emotional weight and pull

(Blog is open again)

This week has been a huge emotional hangover.

The first words out of my mouth this morning to him were, "I wish you would initiate."
I feel like a nagging, broken record.

To be fair, I should have started with :Good morning.

I value words. But I value actions so much more, especially when the words have lost the meaning.
I need a lot more than I used to.

But its the same theme over and over again.

I'm not being heard.

What does this leave me with?

Accepting that this is how it is, over and over and over again, fighting with myself and trying to keep the angry vibes at bay.

Friday, 12 May 2017

Stormy week

Last week, I entertained thoughts.
Fantastical thoughts.
Thoughts about how we could maybe pull in some of that power exchange.
Because I crave it.
I need it.
His dominance, gives me reassurance. His dominance, still calms my storm.
So I thought of things, how to feed that connection, if we could stir it back to life, add to the daily rote.
Things like maintenance canings and daily mantras and one task for him and from him, entered my mind.
It was kind of a high to swim with these possibilities.
It was me who was thinking the thoughts.
I would rather it come from him.
Still, it was a good place to be because I felt myself shift towards him.
Probably not completely but a maybe...I can..make room in my brain to feed the needs of both of us that aren't being fed.
That was last week.

And this week, it came crashing down.
Because this week I felt alone and abandoned.
I felt neglected and unheard.
Ignored and dismissed.

The slip of light under the door vanished.
His dominance gives me reassurance, when its there and not the cold cruel shoulder, when he disappears, my storm spirals.

Wednesday, 10 May 2017

So that suffering thing...

What do you do when the person who is supposed to love you turns deaf to what it is you want?
Even when that want becomes a need so intense it suffocates you and you feel like you cannot spend another moment in the current situation?
What do you do when they don't hear you?
 They don't care, they ignore and carry on?

Eventually stop crying and continue to suffer.

Because there are no other options.

today is one of those days where I am cursing this damned union.

Tuesday, 9 May 2017


Apparently, I do work better when I have an audience.
I have a revised chapter of that spanking romance novel I said I would write way back when, and I have to stop trying for perfection on it. The goal is to just to continue on and on to "done".
Looking for a beta reader or two, to gauge whether or not it is reader-worthy.
 I can offer you my heartfelt gratitude.
Want to get in on the deal?

Friday, 5 May 2017


I feel behind at this life thing.
Like, I`m not doing enough. Or should be doing more.
That I'll never get to doing all the things I want to do.
And I would actually like some of the actual things.
 I feel behind.

I was going back through my memories and wondered, how did it start? How did we go from being kinky in the bedroom to a D/s and then to this O/p? I didn't just hand over the power overnight. Nor did I surrender.
It took work.
A lot of work.
And time.
And it took belief.
I had to believe in his vision for us.
I had to feel secure in what he was wanting was worth it.
I had to entertain the possibility that the words he was saying, would come true.

It started off with little things.
He added more.
Demanded more.
Took more.
Until my will was fully and surrendered to his.
It was beyond where we started and even how we initially lived as D/s.
It morphed into a constant flow, the dynamic was a living, all encompassing entity.
The last year before BB was even a thought, I think was our height; I see that time as being true surrender; there was no testing, no questioning, no more breaking.
I felt loved.
I felt cherished.
I felt purpose.
I felt like how I was living was exactly right.

How did it start?
How did I give over to his way?
How did I catch on to the belief?

He showed me.
He kept his word.
He showed me.
He told me.
And did it.
He put thought into action.
And I believed him.
                 I miss that. All of that. Some days I miss it so much, I weep.

It was to the point where I couldn't not believe him, even now its impossible for me not to fling my heart onto his words, no matter that I know they won't come true.

My mind plays tricks on me and starts to wonder...
If we can even have a little of that now.
It can't be impossible.
It wouldn't be the same.
But I can't split my devotions.
And I can't give us space and time.

And my heart knows, even while it still flings, that its going to get hurt every time I give over that belief and it doesn't hold true.