Catharsis

We’ve started scening again.  I just didn’t have the libido for vanilla sex so we started up with some light bondage to get things moving.  From there he started using the crop again on me and while it hurt (a lot sometimes), something in me must have liked it because it made me very wet.  I was definitely not feeling any pleasure from what he was doing to me so my body’s reaction confused me a bit.  His goal was to make me cry and he did succeed, fucking me while my arms were tied to the corners of the bed and tears rolling down my cheeks.  When I came, I came pretty hard.  I used to like a bit of pain with things, it made him happy, and I was obviously getting some enjoyment out of it even if I wasn’t feeling it at the time so I just went with it.

I was reading some erotica and the Wartenberg pinwheel was used in one of the scenes and I thought it might be something I would like.  We had bought one ages ago and played with it a little bit but it didn’t really do anything for me.  The next time we fooled around, I was blindfolded and he was using the crop on my nipples and I was getting close to my limit when he stopped with the crop and rolled the pinwheel on my nipples.  He had to cover my mouth to stifle the screams.  He did it a few more times (with barely any pressure he told me), all the while with me screaming into his hand over my mouth.  When he stopped and undid my ankle cuffs he was amazed at how wet I was.  When he made me come, he sucked on my battered nipple and it made everything so much more intense.

I was very confused.  I’ve always known I’m on the masochistic side of things.  When he canes me (it’s more of a rod than a cane so much more thuddy rather than stingy), it feels incredible, each stroke driving my arousal higher and higher.  Yes, there’s a bit of pain with it, but the pleasure outweighs it.  Using erotica as my guide, and yes I know it’s a poor guide, masochists were supposed to feel the pain as pleasure where all I did was scream at how much it fucking hurt.  We talked about it for several nights, the seeming disconnect between my body translating this pain into pleasure but bypassing me somehow.  He wanted to try it again.

The second time went much like the first except I was better prepared for the pain this time around.  I started arcing my back while he was using the wheel on me, still screaming into his hand on my mouth.  My body started to feel floaty and when he asked me if I had had enough, I was tempted to say, “No,” but I didn’t.  Again he marveled at how wet I was and his mouth on my tender nipple helped send me into a great orgasm.  Afterwards, I was more comfortable with my reactions.  Maybe this was how it was supposed to go for me.  Maybe there was no disconnect.  It still fucking hurt, but even though I was screaming in pain, my body was finding pleasure in it.

The third time I was well prepared for what was going to happen to me.  He suggested doing it because I needed to get out of my head for a while and I needed to feel some pain so this was the best and safest way to do that.  He had me beg to use the pinwheel on me.  Over and over, the pain and the screaming, arching my back, trying to get more.  I went into sub space this time.  At one point I stopped screaming long enough to moan, “Oh, my God!”  As soon as he felt me talk he stopped and removed his hand from my mouth and I begged him not to stop, so he covered my mouth again and went back to lightly rolling the pinwheel over my nipples.  After another minute or two he stopped and asked me if I wanted more.  My head was in the clouds and in blessed silence, my nipples aching and my throat raw from screaming.  I decided I had had enough and he fucked me.  I was so far gone that he had to use the hitachi on me to get me to come.  He sucked on one of my nipples while the hitachi buzzed away and I couldn’t get enough of it.

Writing about this now has me all sorts of aroused.  I suggested doing something else this weekend so we don’t fall into a rut but he really wants to do this to me again and I really want to go into sub space again.  Just the silence in my head, the only noise being my deep, slow breaths.  When we first started getting back into things in the summer of last year, I complained on a message board that I felt broken because things like biting that I had really liked before just hurt now and I didn’t feel like I was getting anything from it.  After the past few weeks I can finally say I don’t feel broken anymore.  It’s not like how I read about it in books, but it’s what is working for me.  He’s really looking forward to trying out some new things with me.  I haven’t really been in a position for him to give full reign to his sadistic side and now I finally am.  It was not the way I thought things were going to be, but I’m content with them for now.

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Trust

My husband and I were talking last night about the repercussions of our attempt to do a contract and my anxiety about starting our dynamic back up.  I mean we still have our morning ritual where he puts my necklace on me before he leaves for work, kisses the back of my neck and murmurs, “I love you, Little One,” and I reply, “I love you too, Sir.”  This makes me feel safe and cherished and when I’m feeling anxious during the day, I just have to touch my pendant and know that he loves me and protects me.

He suggested last night that we start doing an hour every Wednesday night where I would wear my collar and address him as, “Sir,” and do any small tasks that I can to serve him.  The thought of wearing my collar again fills me with anxiety, that I’m not going to be able to live up to his expectations.  We can thank the contract for that.  He went from cherishing and protecting me to being my master and disciplinarian.  Service was performed but if I broke one of the clauses of the contract I was punished for it.  There was an edge of fear added to our interactions because I didn’t want to be paddled if I screwed up by napping when I didn’t have permission.  We only did it for two months but that was enough to change my whole perception of him.

As we were cuddling last night he apologized for breaking my trust in him.  We decided to try the contract together and I really thought it would work but you can’t discipline depression and he felt as bad if not worse about meting out discipline than I did receiving it.  His one hour a week idea is a way to try and build back that trust.  I need to not be afraid of screwing up.  I need his guidance and not his discipline.  Even with the extensive conversation we had last night about it, I’m still nervous but I really want what we had back.  It made me so happy to serve him, make meals that I know he really likes, go the extra step in doing something for him.  I’m scared about how I’m going to get there again.  There’s now performance anxiety that was never there before.  Even just writing about it now is enough to ramp up my anxiety.

I love him so much and I want what we had back again.  I’m on the road to recovery with my depression and I still need all the help I can get from him to get there.  We’re supposed to meet up tonight for a light bondage scene and that has me nervous as well.  With wearing my collar later this week, I’m not sure I can handle both.  We’re going to take it very slow and see what happens, I just need the strength to say, “No,” if it gets to be too much for me.  My libido is slowly coming back, but it takes a lot of gentle touching to get me ready for sex.  We did fool around last night and he insisted that I call him, “Sir,” and it felt natural and good so we have that going for us.

I need to remind myself that I’m his girl and he’s there to protect and cherish me – to let me let everything go and just be his to command.  Letting go of that control is what scares me the most but hopefully with some practice I’ll be able to regain my trust in him and it will get easier with time.

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Fallout

The great contract experiment has come to an end.  It’s actually been over for a month now but this is the first chance I’ve had to write about it.  We just couldn’t keep it up.  It completely changed our dynamic and our sex life dried up.  My husband told me he just couldn’t do it and frankly didn’t want to be in that kind of position.  He felt like he was loosing his wife.  Everything in my life revolved around not getting punished and there were a few times where he just decided he really didn’t want to punish me.  I thought this is what I needed and I’m still not 100% sure I don’t need it, but the way we went about it caused more problems than it solved.  I still have trouble staying up in the morning but it’s more physiological due to my insomnia than depression related, and even so there’s a level of depression and exhaustion that you just can’t beat a person out of and I was there.

Right now we are trying to pick up the pieces and get back to what we had before we started the contracts, but it’s hard.  My libido seems to have all but disappeared.  I’d much rather hang out with my husband and knit instead of doing a scene.  Two weeks ago, we had spontaneous sex and it was really good.  Last week, he decided he was going to take charge and tied me down to the bed to have his way with me.  I was in no way ready for this and when he asked me if I wanted to stop I said no because I hoped I’d get in the mood as things progressed.  It was a situation where he forced arousal from me by going down on me, but it just didn’t last.  He kept pulling out of me to make me beg him to fuck me and after the second time I was completely dry and I should have come right out and said we needed lube rather than just tell him I was dry.  It ended with me being achy, him upset that he had hurt me and a bad experience all around.

We’ve been talking, trying to find ways to get me more interested in sex and doing scenes again.  Last night we were laying in bed together and he was gently rubbing my side when the switch was flipped and I really wanted him to fuck me.  It turned out great.  There were lots of Sirs, general begging, and choking on his cock which has always been one of my favorites.  It was comfortable without the edge of fear that was there last week.  I want to get back to embracing that edge of fear again, but we have to take it slowly or else it will just blow up in our faces.  It almost feels like we are starting all over again, which in a way I guess we are since we tried 24/7 and it just didn’t work for us, at least not that kind of 24/7.

We are going to try a scene tomorrow night and I’m more than I bit nervous about it.  I have performance anxiety.  What if I can’t let go?  What if it just hurts?  What if I can’t come?  These are just some of the fears swimming around in my head.  Usually we start by warming me up with spanking and that has me the most nervous of all.  I’m afraid that I won’t be able to separate the sensation of being paddled for a contract infraction from the sensual feel of being spanked to warm me up for the cane.  We may try to loosen me up a bit with a glass of wine before hand to see if that will calm my nerves.  I know he’ll take everything very slow and if it doesn’t work out it won’t be the end of the world no matter how much it might feel that way.

I want to reconnect with him so much, to try and regain what we lost during the contract period.  I know we can do it, it’s just going to take time and patience.

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Saying No

We’re running into a roadblock with the new contract.  In addition to the anxiety and depression, I have terrible insomnia with frequent wakings.  No medication that we’ve tried (and I think we’ve tried all of them) at this point helps.  Guided meditation doesn’t help.  An orgasm before going to sleep sometimes helps.  I’ve had a sleep study and of course fell asleep within 45 minutes but I woke up five times that night.  All they seemed concerned with was that I didn’t have sleep apnea and obviously I didn’t have insomnia since I feel asleep so quickly.  All that said, I have legitimate reasons to be tired during the day other than my depression and anxiety.

Legitimate reasons aside, what we are aiming for with the contract is to get me up and keep me up.  This puts my husband in the position of having to tell me “No” sometimes when I ask to go back to sleep.  I called him and cajoled my way around it so I could take a nap yesterday morning.  Last night I didn’t fall asleep until after 3am so we decided that I could take a nap this morning before he even left for work.  I was a bit tired this afternoon so I emailed him asking if I could lay down for an hour and ended up calling him anyway because he didn’t respond.  He told me “Yes”, but there was a tone of resignation in his voice that I didn’t like.

Later on this afternoon we talked about it.  I wanted to go back to sleep this afternoon, I didn’t really need to, but I wanted it badly enough that I had to ask his permission or face the possibility of an infraction.  He feels that since I have legitimate reasons to be tired, he cannot in good conscience tell me “No” when I ask to go back to sleep.  I don’t know what to do about this.  I was half-expecting him to tell me “No” when I asked to lay down this afternoon, I mean I was hoping for a “Yes” but I was prepared for a “No” if that’s what he decided.  It’s all well and good to say he’s going to be firm with me and tell me “No” more often when we’re in the planning stages, doing it in real time is harder for him and he’s not sure if he’s up for the challenge.

This puts the cornerstone of our contract in jeopardy.  One of the main goals of the contract is to give him more control over my life and to keep day time sleep to a minimum, instead focusing my energies on self improvement, personal pursuits, and household management.  It’s hard, but I can function on this little sleep, but the crux is that I don’t want to and therefore I push to be allowed to go back to sleep to get the rest I feel I deserve.  He knows all of this but I think it worries him in two ways.  Yes, I am tired.  I average five hours of sleep a night where I really need between seven and eight to be fully functional.  The second thing is a bit trickier.  I think he doesn’t want me to be in a position to be mad at him when he tells me “No” which in the moment is a real possibility.  It’s a catch 22 — I need someone to kick me in the ass and keep me out of bed and do stuff but I’m going to be mad at the person who is doing it to me.  The night we drew up the new contract I spent a fair amount of time sulking over the amount of control I was ceding to him in it.  So he doesn’t want me to be mad at him and I don’t want to have to be forced to do things I don’t want to do.  Not the most conducive of arrangements.

We’re going to have a big talk about the contract and these ramifications tonight and hopefully come up with something that’s going to work for us.  I need this because left to my own devices I’d just sleep the day away, lack of sleep or no because of my low grade depression.  He wants to provide that structure to me but not at the cost of my hating him for it.  I know I’m going to resent the hell out of this at times, it’s a natural reaction to giving up control.  It won’t be fun for either of us, but it’s for the better good — a happier Tsunade and more importantly a functional Tsunade.  Now we have to see if we can get past this to get to there.

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Contract Revisited

We’re getting ready to renew the contract for the month of January.  Contract-wise, the past month hasn’t been too bad.  He was probably a bit too lenient with me at times, and I should have been better this past week and a half with the kids home from school.  I have been going back to bed these past two days, but for less time each day.  Infractions were okay.  The first one was hard.  The second one was harder and I had a panic attack afterwards which wasn’t fun.  The third one was way too easy since he was afraid of triggering another panic attack and the fourth one was about right — enough for a deterrent but not enough for a trigger.

We’ll be discussing any changes we’ll be making to the contract this weekend.  Infraction counts will be set back to zero, a bit of a relief since I had two each for morning and afternoon sleep and was not looking forward to incurring a third which is a more severe punishment.  Smoking is completely off the table.  I know his reasoning for this one, but it still feels a little unfair that I can’t have the occasional cigarette with my sister when we are visiting my mom’s.  He’s going to add a few more responsibilities and tasks to be completed which should be doable.  He has a baseline of behavior to work from now and he’s going to be stricter with me which is a little scary but I think I can do it.

Living with the contract has been hard at times.  December is always a bad month for me and we haven’t been having much sex.  I’m not sure how much that has to do with the month or the contract.  We also haven’t played at all the past month and again I’m not sure how much to chalk up to our dynamic leaving the bedroom versus me just being too stressed out.  I’m hoping now that the holidays are over I can get back into the swing of things and we can start having more sex and playing on the weekends.  I miss the release of getting out of my head.  I think I’m going to try it this Saturday night and see how it goes.  There’s a part of me that’s afraid I won’t be able to let go and it will just hurt, especially in light of the corporal punishment involved in the contract — that I won’t be able to separate the feelings.  I need to relax and just go with it.  I know he’ll take care of me and that it won’t be anything like the punishments logically but my belief needs some work.

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Service Interrupted

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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Questioning my motivations

The other night we had a particularly intense scene.  He warmed me up by spanking me for about ten to fifteen minutes, had me do some fellatio and then caned me for twenty minutes.  He ‘s caned me once before and it was really good, but this time it crossed the line into the sublime.  I don’t think I’ve ever gone that deep into subspace before and truthfully I did let him go on for longer than I should have if the bruises on my ass are any indication.  After he was done, all I could do was just lay there, moaning softly for the next ten minutes or so.

Sub-drop hit me pretty hard and it made me question why I like this.  I mean, my husband just beat me with a stick for twenty minutes and I actually squirted while he was doing it.  What did it say about me that I enjoyed the hell out of it?  These thoughts really upset me and despite our normal aftercare routine I was actually in tears over it.  I mean, what was wrong with me?  He’s spanked me in the past, even gotten me into subspace a few times with it and that seemed all right, not great but I could parse it.  Being beaten with a stick and wanting more?  Somehow this was completely different.

He cuddled with me, told me there was nothing wrong with me.  Liking this didn’t make me a bad person.  It was something that happened between two consenting adults in a loving manner.  He was amazed at how I took it, how long I lasted.  He couldn’t get over the fact that I trusted him enough to let him do it to me in the first place.  He just kept holding me and praising me, telling me over and over that there was nothing wrong with me for wanting this.  I finally calmed down, but I didn’t know how much I believed him.

I was physically punished as a child and still suffer from some trauma over it.  Finding sexual gratification in an activity so close to one that terrified me is a bit hard to process.  I have to remind myself that the other night came from a place of love and trust.  It was about giving up power, not having it taken away from me.  There was no anger, no punishment.  I didn’t beg him to stop only to be ignored.  Yes, the activities are very close, but they aren’t the same.  Like a belt is a rock hard limit for me, I will never let him strike me with one because of how it was used on me as a child.  This was just a stick.  What was so bad about a stick?

It all comes down to trust and consenting adults which when you get down to it aren’t so different.  I know I enjoy pain, that I find sexual gratification from it and most of the time this sits just fine with me.  Every once in a while though I question it.  When I was sick we put practically all things BDSM away, but especially anything that involved pain.  I was in a state where I was self injuring and we both were afraid of my using that as a means to hurt myself.  I guess that is one of the reasons why I question it.  On the surface, how different is the bite of the cane from a slash of a knife?  There is a big difference though.  He was not punishing me when he was caning me.  I trusted him with my body, knowing he would never really hurt me.  Yes, sitting has been a bit on the painful side for the past two days, but there’s hurting and there’s hurting.  That’s what I need to get through my head.  Not all pain is bad.  Not all pain is punishment.  The bite of the cane is about consent and trust.  I’m not punishing myself nor am I being punished for some arbitrary reason like being bad.  This is a lesson I need to wrap my head around, but one that I know I’ll be revisiting often.

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Dusting off the cobwebs

A lot has happened over the past two years.  I suffered a major depressive episode and it’s taken me this long to pull out of it.  I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the love and support of my husband.  Between that and all the stresses of me being sick, BDSM pretty much stopped because I really wasn’t in a place where I could do anything.  We’ve just now started playing again and finding that we have to start back at square one.  There are things that I really want to do for him but my mental state is still too fragile for me to consider them right now.  I’m hoping that writing again will help with that.

I love him so much and want to give myself completely to him but I’m still scared of it, of not being able to live up to his expectations.  He’s told me that he has no expectations, that he feels privileged that I want to give myself to him.  He wants more than anything to cherish me and keep me safe.  So bear with me as I work through these feelings.

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Pain for pain’s sake

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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An admission and preparations

There has been much talk of objectification recently.  It is something that I desire greatly but still have a lot of fear surrounding it.  I composed an email to my husband this morning to get my thoughts written down and more organized…

I can imagine myself naked, kneeling in the middle of the floor wearing my collar.  My eyes are down cast, working on achieving the proper object head space for you.  I breath in and whisper the word, “Master”, I breath out and whisper, “I am yours to use.”  I repeat this as I wait for you, sinking deeper and deeper into the head space that allows me to become your toy, to belong utterly to you, to have nothing in my mind but to follow your commands and to do whatever is asked of me.

I am yours and I do belong to you, but this is deeper.  This is the complete suppression of self to your will.  I exist for your will, and your will alone. I can go this deep because I love you and I trust you utterly.  I can completely abandon myself to you.  I will speak only when spoken to.  I will address you only as “Master” because that is who you are.  I sit patiently waiting to see how you will use me that evening with no desires or expectations outside of being your toy for this period of time.  I am completely yours.

When you are finished, I will come back and be your girl once more, your beloved pet.  Not a toy to be used, but your girl to be cherished.  I will process my object space, leave it behind and allow myself to be taken care of by you.

I do want this desperately, Master.  Will you help me achieve it?

I don’t know how deep we’ll get this weekend, but the groundwork is being laid.

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