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Archive for the ‘Service’ Category

One of the hardest things to get back into is the service aspects of our dynamic.  I got a great deal of satisfaction and pleasure in serving him before I got sick.  I made eggs and bacon, corn fritters, or french toast most mornings for breakfast.  I baked several times a week.  I even made sure to serve him at family functions, fixing his plate or fetching him a Coke to drink.  It made me very happy.

When I got sick, he took over much of these tasks or they just didn’t get done.  There was no baking, he took over responsibility for his own breakfasts and feeding the kids, and he served himself on the rare occasions we visited my family for dinner.  I could barely keep it together to take care of myself and the kids on most days, serving him just had to go.

As I’ve finally started getting better over the past six months, I still haven’t picked back up on the service aspects of our dynamic.  I still make dinner every night and fix him a plate but it doesn’t give me the warm fuzzies like it used to.  Two weeks ago I started getting up early to make a hot breakfast for him and it still feels more like a chore than anything else, mostly because I’m missing out on those extra ten minutes of sleep in the morning.  To be honest, serving him like I used to actually scares me.  I’m scared that I’m not going to be able to live up to his expectations (of which he has none for the record).  I have very high expectations for myself in this area, well in all areas truth be told, and I set myself up for automatic failure because I’m not living up to them.

It’s not just service but everything it seems.  Last night I was convinced that he was disappointed in me because it took too long for me to come and I wasn’t able to come multiple times (note: we’ve only been having regular sex now for about four months, before it was a few times a month and it usually took the hitachi to make me come if it happened at all).  I actually broke down in the middle of things because I was so upset that I couldn’t come despite his best efforts.  It wasn’t my fault, but a case of him being a bit too enthusiastic and overstimulating me.  Once I calmed down and he fucked me for a bit before finishing in my mouth, I came in about the normal amount of time for me.

Reading old blog posts leaves me feeling inadequate.  I see what we had and how long it’s going to take top get back there if we get back there at all.  I’m not even sure I want to serve him like that any more.  Our kids have gotten older and take more time and stress to take care of, I just don’t have the reserves to be all smiling and skipping, serving him his food and drink.  I get very sad because it was something that made me so happy, the little thrill I got by saying, “Here’s your breakfast, Sweetheart!”  Everything has changed and I don’t know if it will ever be like it was.  I have to remind myself that even though I feel much better than I did, I’m still recovering and the only cure for that is time and that is incredibly frustrating because I want to be better NOW.  I was a different person when I wrote and did those things.  It’s hard to have the patience to get back there or find new things to do.

In other news, my bruises from last week’s caning have all healed so guess who gets to be beaten with a stick this weekend?  He also applied a depilatory to my pussy last weekend and some stubble is coming back so we’ll have to do that again too.  I never thought not having hair there would make such a difference, but it really does so it’s something we’ll be doing for the time being.

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Up until recently, any play that involved pain had a feeling of love and care to it.  I loved being able to ride the sensations and push my limits and he loved taking me there.  I know it sounds counter intuitive, but there is a nurturing aspect to our impact play, a sensual air that you would expect to see present in lovemaking rather than in being flogged or spanked.

Since we’ve been exploring both objectification and his own sadistic leanings, pain is shifting into an expression of his power and dominance of me and I’m still learning to process it.  By no means is he a sadistic bastard every time we go to fool around or even play, but he is getting more comfortable in admitting those leanings to himself so it is coming up a bit more often.  A few weeks ago we did the preparations for me to enter object space and he was, to be frank, a sadistic bastard.  I sported the bruises of the breast slapping for a good two weeks and have now developed a full-on hatred for the crop.  I made the mental preparations to get in the right mind-set and we did the work after to get me out of object space.  He had more trouble processing the scene than I did, but it was one of the first times he really let his sadistic side out to play.

Last night was a little different.  We did one of those, “But I thought you were going to tell me when you were ready to go up,” kind of things so by the time we did get upstairs it was really too late for the full-on impact play scene I was hoping for.  One thing led to another as they always do, and I got to see the kind sadist.  The kind sadist nurtures and praises me for what I can take, but it’s still outright pain he is causing me.  We have a bad habit of falling into really big things with no preparations and last night was again one of those situations.  I took a hell of a lot of breast and nipple torture last night, and towards the end it was all I could do to not cry out as he pinched and pulled at me with surprising intensity.  There was no depersonalization, his voice was kind and gentle always in complete contrast to what he was doing to me.  He told me what he wanted from me in the future, how he looked forward to kissing away my tears from the pain he inflicted on me and how he waited for the day I would beg to receive crop blows on my breasts.

This scene was much harder for me to process and I’m still doing some emotional bouncing from it.  If sadism is to be the focus of our play for the evening, I need to do similar preparations as I do for getting into object space.  This is similar to object space, but different.  There is a strong sense of the trust that exists between us and I am definitely still his girl, but oh the awful things he’s doing to his girl.  Breathing through the pain, trying to be as silent as possible and finally when I couldn’t hold back gasping and even letting out stifled cries.  Even as part of me cringes at the memories of it, I am longing to submit to him in this way again.

Due to the hour last night, we didn’t get to do much beyond basic cuddling after the scene ended.  We got to have a good debriefing this morning and deconstruct what happened and how it affected both of us.  He needed to remind me numerous times that my tears and need for care were not signs of weakness and he marveled at the strength and trust I posses to submit to him in this fashion.  He made a decision that as with the objectification, I am to be in charge of when it happens.  He will not require this type of service from me unless I am willing to give it.  After writing this post, I am coming to the conclusion that I want to give up this control to him, that I am truly at his service whether that be as his toy or his girl and it is his decision as to what he does.

As we move deeper into things, both in the bedroom and without, I am finding it easier and easier to submit to him, and in that submission I feel safe and loved.  It seems like everything I had considered a hard limit is being stripped away, or at least pushed to its utmost edge.  My fears are becoming less and less pronounced as we progress.  Every level of control I relinquish, every step I take in my submission is met with his strong hands guiding me and catching me when I take the leap.

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Or should it be Rob and Laura?  The only one I’m sure it’s not is Ward and June – but then again I’m sure my marriage has elements of all of them, even if my knowledge of specifics in their dynamics is rather fuzzy.

To get to the point, while we are definitely living D/s 24/7, it looks really boring to the outside observer (well, except maybe when the kids are asleep and implements come out to play).  I am a service sub, but it’s still pretty much in the same manner as I’ve always been, just now I get thanked for it and I can sit at his feet in the evening while he surfs, I knit and we both watch Keith Olberman.  I can see things ramping up a bit once our kids are older and out on their own, but it will probably still look like a wife doting on her husband (except for the aforementioned sitting at his feet thing).

I described my dynamic over the weekend to some acquaintances (minus the majority of the bedroom stuff) and was questioned as to how this was any different from a regular relationship.  I “do” for my husband, find joy in doing mundane tasks for him, run the household and in return he takes care of me.  Looks pretty normal, if not a little old-fashioned.  The reason why this is a D/s relationship for us is because it takes a lot for me to allow him to take care of me.  I do for others, I have always done for others.  Usually I have to tone this down – a lot.  A friend is going through a rough time?  I have gotten to the point of planning weekly notes/cards with pressed flowers or leaves in them, maybe small knitted items or sachets, something to look forward to so she would know someone was thinking of her and it could help her through the day within hours of finding out she’s having a problem.  Is this for my BFF?  No, it could be for someone as simple as an online acquaintance or someone I just pal around with.  I have to make myself think about how stalker-ish this  seems, to all of the sudden start receiving small gifts every couple of days from someone you chat with on the computer.  I’m usually not able to follow through anyway because my grandiose plans are just that – grandiose, and even if I had no responsibilities I just couldn’t do them, but I still try to do something.  This is something I do all the time.  I remember little details of people’s lives so I can ask them about it later, you can tell me in passing that your mother-in-law is having some problem or another and I will remember to ask you about how she’s doing the following week or so.  If a while passes before I remember to ask, I’ll even apologise for forgetting.  I’ve been really taken advantage by some people over the years for these tendencies and really hurt when I needed help and support they were nowhere to be found or bailed because I was asking too much.

So in a round about way, that brings me to the crux of my submission to my husband.  Yes, when we are playing I am his to use as he pleases and depending on how deep I am into things, his pleasure is my primary concern to the exclusion of my own.  As for the 24/7 part – it’s about letting him take care of me.  All of those times I tried to get my own needs met and got a, “Sorry Kid, don’t have time for you,” in response has created a lot of shells around me and it’s scary as fuck to let them down.  I have been dealing with some generalized anxiety and it’s been aggravating because until this morning I wasn’t able to pin it on anything.  Getting hit with a sense of panic and wanting to start crying out of nowhere is extremely unsettling.  I’m not sure what happened, but it finally clicked that letting down those walls is probably the culprit.

It’s been a running theme over several posts that my biggest fear is that he’ll decide that this is too much work and want out of not only the D/s but our marriage as well.  This is the hardest part for me – letting go of the fear and submitting to his care and protection.  It’s something I’m going to have to work at almost every day to some degree or another.  So no, our day-to-day dynamic isn’t exciting in the least, but to me it’s pretty fucking significant.

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