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Archive for the ‘The Unexpected’ Category

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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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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I have no problem with accepting the fact that I want my husband to slap me across the face, spank me, choke me a bit and otherwise use me thoroughly. Being taken care of is an entirely different story.

I’m coming down with one of those colds that’s just enough to make you feel like shit but not enough that you can justify staying in bed.  Sunday I was feeling miserable and for the first time actually allowed myself to be taken care of.  He told me to go back to bed in the morning, to take a nap in the afternoon, and to go to bed early that night.  I actually laid next to him on the couch so he could stroke my hair and whisper, “I love you, pet,” to me several times that day.  By the time the kids were in bed, I was a bit shaken because while I’ve always wanted this, I’ve never actually gotten it.  The new dynamic allows me to lower those walls of control and finally ask for what I want and need, not what I think others will deem acceptable.  So it’s freeing and scary at the same time.

The way our dynamic is unfolding feels like a natural extension of our marriage; the groundwork has been here the whole time but we’ve always avoided it because that’s not the way it’s supposed to be.  I would think that I’d be reluctant to hand over this level of control over my daily life to him, but it’s something we’ve both wanted for years.  It feels completely natural now to receive a list of chores in the morning or to ask him if I can use the computer or smoke a cigarette.  The flip side is that I can be more affectionate with him, something I’ve always wanted but have never been sure how to ask for it.  I can pout because circumstances are preventing us from playing that night and he can see just how much I desire him.  I can finally let go of my public face with him.

I am so happy to call him Master and I feel so lucky to be his girl.

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If anything, this experience is telling me that I still have a lot to learn.

We recently made the transition from pretty much flirting with being 24/7 to actually doing it.  I’m not saying that we didn’t have a dynamic outside of the bedroom, because there definitely was – but it was a bit more on the role playing side of things.  Lots of stolen touches or looks, words mouthed across the room, playing with formal speech.  All of this was fun, but it was definitely starting to feel unsatisfying.

We had a series of discussion over the weekend which boiled down to the fact that we both over think things way too much.  We both worried a lot about  how the other would react to a thing, have that thing happen and afterwards confess that we both really wanted it.  In light of this and the fact that we’ve been married for 10 years, I told him to just do it.  If a line gets crossed, we’ll deal with it.  We’ll find the edges together and keep the onus of communication on both of us.

He now has much more control over my daily life.  Every evening, we go over a list of chores/tasks that he’d like to see me do the following day.  I text him as I do each one.  I call him Master in our text conversations and when I am able to throughout the day to keep him in the right mind set.  I ask for permission to do things like use the computer.  I now wear my collar every evening after we get the kids to bed and sleep in it as well.  We haven’t come upon an issue that would require punishment, but it will most likely take the form of a logical consequence/removal of some privilege.  At this point, causing disappointment is deterrent enough.

The thing is that this is a very natural progression for us – almost eerily natural.  Over the weekend we were talking about taking more control of my day and I used the phrase, “but I don’t want to make you my parent.”  I thought about it for a bit and realized just how long I’ve been saying that particular phrase in regards to his efforts to help me manage my time and in the face of our current dynamic how absurd the notion is.  Seriously, I remember saying a version of the phrase back when we were first married and I was out of work for a period.  The phrase was used to keep our distance from each other because it seemed an unhealthy dynamic to add to our relationship.  So the basis for this has been in existence for years.

Giving him the control over my day like that and giving up the bedroom control is incredibly freeing.  I was obsessing over something on Friday and asked him to restrict my computer use because of it.  When he told me that he wanted me to stay off until the evening when we would both be together, a huge sense of relief washed over me.  The other big advantage of letting go of the little things like this is that I have more mental energy available to me to make the decisions I have to make in taking care of the kids and running the house.  Knowing that after the kids are in bed and I’m his to control makes wrestling with our finances or dealing with the myriad of appointments for our kids a lot more bearable.

There’s more to blabber about, but life calls and I must get moving.

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I’m reading over some of the first posts I made and am marveling at how many things I have completely reversed on.

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I’ve had yet another one of those wonderful epiphanies that makes me realize just how much of a miracle it is that I managed to become a functional adult. Aside from all of the support from my husband and friends, I’ve been able to find a tremendous amount of safety in the wearing of my collar.

When I first started this journey I really wanted nothing to do with a collar. I didn’t like what I felt it represented and it was something I never dreamed would enter into our relationship. Then I decided to give the collar a try, but with very hard and fast rules for its use. The collar got very little use over the late fall and winter months because I just wasn’t in a place where I felt I could wear it. We had so little time to connect and I felt the collar needed to be reserved for special occasions.

I wore the collar on Saturday night and found my feelings about it had changed. It still symbolized giving myself completely to him, but this wasn’t something I wanted to do every once in a while – I really did want it all the time. There is something so comforting about the feel of the leather against my neck, the momentary discomfort if I move in the wrong way, and finally the knowledge that I am his girl. Being his girl is more than just objectification (yet another concept I wanted nothing to do with). It means while I am here for him to use as he pleases, he’s here to love me, cherish me, and most importantly at this time, to keep me safe.

I find such bliss is being used in this fashion. I don’t have to make any decisions. I can express desires, but he gets the final say. I am completely fine with him fucking my throat and allowing me to drink his cum (my favorite activity right now) and I could care less about having an orgasm myself, I am just so happy to be of service.

As much as I want to, I can’t wear the collar all the time. While it is a very nice one (dark red leather with a swirl design cut into it), explaining it to my kids and others is too much for me to even think of handling at the moment. I’ll be going out tomorrow to get the supplies at long last to make my everyday collar – a beaded choker with a Celtic knotwork design on it. I want this so much – I even asked permission to add collared to my status on Fetlife.

My mantra for the moment:

I’m his girl, and he loves me and wants to make me happy, keep me safe and cherish me. My task is to accept this as true and to trust my Master.

Thank you, Master.

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I had such a heady day today.  My husband was off and we had a semi-date (one where our youngest spent a chunk of it asleep in his stroller).  We went out for lunch and clothes shopping for him and a bit for me.  In a word, it was lovely.

This evening was a different story.  I got completely blindsided by all that had to get done – groceries, meal planning, cooking, budgeting, etc.  I was getting more and more agitated because off all of the shit that needed doing this evening.  I was standing in the kitchen trying to get my thoughts together for what to do next when he came up to me, took my wrists firmly in his hands and told me to take a deep breath, there wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait ’til tomorrow to be done.

I still feel a little shaky, but it did help me get centered and he feels like he can finally do something when I get overwhelmed like this.

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