Keeping it really real

By now if you’ve ready my blog or comments you know that although I yearn to be a perfect submissive to Sir, it doesn’t come naturally nor easily. I believe I was once that girl, but time and circumstances have altered who I am today. I married late and never even dated much growing up. After marriage and having our child, when Sir began working such long hours and such a crazy schedule, when I was left alone for so much of of the time and basically raised our daughter by myself, is when I think I was forced to make decisions and do many things I was uncomfortable doing and which felt very unnatural.

I hated this, but I had no choice. I had to put on my big girl pants and do what was required and necessary to run the house and bring up our girl so Sir could bring home the bacon, so to speak. But it was very damaging, both to our daughter and me, because most days Sir left the house at 6:30 or 7 am and returned anywhere from 10:30-12 midnight. He ate dinner, showered, and went to sleep. He missed so much of her formative years and doing and seeing the fun things a dad should. To top it off, he would get very annoyed with decisions I made, minor purchases I had made, or things I’d done without consulting him – when there was no way I would call and bother him when he was always so busy at work. If I did call, I always felt he could barely take time to speak with me unless it was an emergency. So those were rough times for me. It led to us nearly splitting up.

Fast forward to today, when we are better than ever, having been through counseling and pledged to be a D/s couple which feels very right to both of us. Still, after having gone through the trauma of the earlier years of our relationship, I can no longer seem to easily get in the proper submissive head space. More often than not, I react snippy, bratty, or even angrily. It is, of course, my “old” responses. I don’t want to react this way. I want to be Sir’s good girl, which he says I am.

But it’s not enough to be that girl in my head. My whole entirety must know it and react accordingly. I long to sing with submission as so many of my blogging friends seem to do. Some days (in fact, to be quite honest, many days) I am quite depressed because I think in my heart I am just never going to achieve the wonder of being a true on-my-knees submissive, gazing at Him with adoring eyes and worshiping Him. And if I can’t, if I’m simply incapable of giving this hardworking, loving, generous man what He so deserves, then what?


Secrets, continued…

To this day, many times as I am first waking up in the morning, or before I sleep at night, I lie there and fantasize about “my” Daddy and the things “we” might do, particularly sexually. I imagine Daddy sometimes being quite loving and gentle with me, telling me how much he adores me – and other times the scenario is much different, with him being rough and telling me “this is the way grown-ups love each other, you want to be a good girl and please daddy, don’t you?”  I am unsure if this is healthy, especially since Sir and I began our D/s relationship, but I don’t feel it is harming anyone.

Years and years ago, way before I even envisioned a D/s relationship with my husband, I used to tell him about someone we mutually know who calls her husband ‘daddy’ in public. I made fun of her and told him I didn’t think it was appropriate, especially in front of their young son. Sir (then he was simply my husband) told me he thought because she is Filipino it may be part of her culture and the way she was brought up, to call her husband that, even though her husband is a white Jewish man! I stopped making fun of her after that, and wondered if they were D/s, but I honestly don’t think they are. She sees my collar quite often and would know what it is, if they were in the lifestyle.

Anyway, the wheels began turning in my mind. I wondered what it would be like if, from time to time, maybe in intimate moments, or if I am feeling needy, I could call Sir ‘Daddy.’ But what if He didn’t like it? Worse, what if He laughed at me? I’ve always hated being made fun of. I thought about it for a very long time. Finally, recently after a fairly intense play session, I was feeling needy and wanted Sir’s comfort. Normally I am fairly self-sufficient, but Sir likes me best after playtime because as He puts it, He has beaten me into submission. LOL! That’s when He can cuddle with me and hold me and we are at our closest.

I was in His arms and suddenly, out of nowhere, I just said, “would it be okay if I sometimes called you daddy?”  He said it would be fine. I was so relieved. I felt as if a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. It was like this big secret I’ve been carrying around wasn’t a secret anymore, and it didn’t matter. Sir knows and he loves me just the way I am!

I don’t want to wear Hello Kitty pajamas and color. I just want His unconditional love, acceptance, protection, and reassurance… feelings I guess I was short-changed on from my own “real” father. I loved my dad even knowing he was a real shit. I forgive him. He was emotionally weak, like his own father. Sir is not weak. He is a strong, kind, generous, loving person. A man I don’t need to keep secrets from any longer.



So one of my deepest inner fantasies has always been, as long as I can remember, to have an incestuous relationship. Not with my real father… no no no. Bleahh! No, I have  always dreamed about having sex with a much older man and to be cared for lovingly by him and be punished by him when I misbehaved; in short, to be his submissive. I think perhaps this feeling came about because as a child I saw my dad repeatedly abuse my oldest brother, who had a learning disability. It was physical and emotional abuse which my mother was unable to stop.

In those days people didn’t realize how harmful child abuse was, not only for the victim, but for the entire family – the spouse of the abuser and particularly the victim’s siblings. My father was a career military man and he also was a functioning alcoholic. He came home from work every evening and drank several shots of whiskey and a few beers. He could handle it. To outsiders and his superiors, I’m sure he acted perfectly fine every day. I think he never accepted the fact that his first-born son was not perfect or normal like other kids. In addition, his own father was a heavy drinker and womanizer, cheating on my grandmother until they finally divorced. So this behavior was in my father’s DNA I guess.

When my brother was born, the doctors told my parents to put him in an institution. There was a fear he was developmentally disabled, or as they called it then, retarded. My mom refused. She brought him home and just poured all her love into him. He was slow. He never excelled in school. I recall her always pushing him and helping him with homework. He finally went to a continuation school to graduate. Later he worked for the VA doing menial jobs, eventually moving up and working for several city and county agencies. He always worked hard despite taking all kinds of crap from his supervisors, learned to use a computer, drive a car, and moved out on his own. He’s always been socially inept, probably because he didn’t have a good male role model. He never married, and I doubt he’s ever had a sexual relationship with anyone, male or female. I’ve never known anyone who’s worked as hard as my brother has, every day of his life. I’m proud of him. He’s actually smarter than most people! The doctors were wrong.

In any case, after much self-analysis, it dawned on me that having a cold, mostly distant father whom I was afraid of, made me long for a real dad. Someone who would nurture me and guide me along life’s path, and whom I would secretly have a crush on. I began to fantasize what that might be like. What would Daddy want me to do and be for him? What would a REAL Daddy/little girl sexual relationship be like – not these silly fantasies some submissives have in which they play with stuffed toys, wear footie pajamas with Hello Kitty on them, color in coloring books, and act childishly. These thoughts consumed me. I never told anyone. In fact, Sir doesn’t know the extent of how I feel. Someday I will tell him. To be continued as the post is quite long…



CT  ct-tribu-weigel-magnet-syndrome

I am a writer. I like to play with words, to express my deepest emotions and innermost thoughts with words. I’ve taken writing classes and I very much enjoy the interplay of words and how they relate to each other, both written and spoken. To me, we convey as much artistry and passion through words as we do with music, paint, pastel, charcoal, or film. 

Sir is very much a pragmatist. He is a highly educated scientist who sees things in the rigidity of theory and explanation. Where I see every color of the rainbow with hundreds of shades and shadows, He defines His life with textbooks and algorithms. He has often told me He will not rest until He has found the answer to a given question, like a dog searching for a bone. That is not to say Sir doesn’t admire art, because He does. We have all styles of art in our home, many of it collected from our vacations. 

While I admire Sir’s tenacity and His work ethic, that style is not mine. Even when I was working, (and I was known for dependability, never taking a sick day for over ten years) I relied more on instinct and human nature than the scientific method as my modus operandi. Maybe this is why Sir can be a bit of a sadist. Science is cold. 

It’s a very good thing (as well as a scientific fact) that opposites attract!






As previously mentioned, RACK means Risk-Aware Consensual Kink. This term came about because Gary Switch noted many gay men (and women) were uncomfortable with David Stein’s ‘safe and sane’ terminology. He felt that nothing is 100% safe, and he compared the BDSM lifestyle to the sport of mountain climbing. Both are thrilling and have many inherent risks if one is not constantly careful and on the alert to the dangers involved. Even the most experienced climbers may slip and fall if not constantly checking their equipment and reviewing their safety procedures. The same is true for BDSM. 

Risk-aware means everyone engaging in the activity is completely aware of the risks or danger involved.

Consensual means the people who will take part (being of sound mind) all agree to the terms or limits of the scene, contract or behavior involved.

Kink means alternative sexual behavior, or that considered deviating from normal, whatever that is. In other words, most folks don’t consider mountain climbing to be kinky… but putting someone in a latex suit with holes just for breathing and… well, intercourse of various types, now that would be considered kinky in any culture!

There are other terms, too. How about PRICK? It stands for Personal Responsibility, Informed Consual Kink. I must admit I rather like PRICK, lol. I happen to think we all, even we submissives, need to take responsibility for our own actions, especially if they are risky ones. The only other one I’ve heard of is Committed, Compassionate and Consensual – however, I don’t think it goes far enough. And of course, committed virtually goes without saying in our little world. At least, that has been my experience. 

Whatever term you prefer, discuss limits, play by the rules, stay safe, and don’t mix mind-altering substances with play. Be careful and have fun. 

Safe and Sane versus Risk Aware


In learning about playing or “doing scenes” in the BDSM lifestyle, that is, when the Dominant employs various methods of impact implements in order to cause His or Her submissive to feel pain, pleasure, or both, it’s hoped one comes across the terms ‘safe, sane and consensual’ and ‘risk-aware consensual kink.’ If you’ve never heard of these terms before, you might want to google both after reading this.

Any time people engage in behavior which has the potential to physically or emotionally harm another, these rules or guidelines should be strictly adhered to by all parties involved.

During the formative years of the (mainly male gay) Leather BDSM community, Safe Sane and Consensual was the formative set of rules which bound the Leathermen. Here are the basics:

Safe – We minimize as much danger as possible when playing and during intimacy, particularly the danger of sexually transmitted disease including but not limited to AIDS, Hepatitis, Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, HPV, and Syphilis. We care for our partner before, during, and after play. We watch all body reactions. We use safewords and motions. We do not engage in edge play unless both partners are experienced and completely at ease and comfortable with the scenario. We have a first aid kit near and 911 on a phone speed dial. We never play beyond agreed-upon limits.

Sane – This is all about good and reasonable judgment. If your decision-making skills are impaired in any way, from alcohol, marijuana, other prescribed or non-prescription drugs, mental illness, fear, previous life experience, bad day, etc. etc., YOU ARE IN NO CONDITION TO ENGAGE IN BDSM PLAY! The submissive trusts that the Dominant will use the utmost care when playing. Even if the Dominant’s mind wanders temporarily, terrible things can (and do) happen.

Consensual – This part is easy; both partners must give consent before anything will happen. Talk it over. Do you want a hard paddling, to be blindfolded, tied down, and for your Dominant to rape your ass while He or She pulls your hair or chokes you? What if He or She can’t stand the idea of suffocating you? This is why every detail must be worked out between you. Talk, talk, talk. Even if you don’t have a written contract, surely there are things each of you do and don’t enjoy. Maybe your Master enjoys humiliating you in public and you are into that too. Great! Now work out the details of what that might mean, and go for it.

My next post will go into RACK, as this is already quite long. Thanks for reading!

It’s a Learning Curve



When we set out on this kinky path, beginning our D/s dynamic, neither Sir nor I had any clue how to get to precisely where we wanted. To tell the truth, I’m not altogether certain we are there yet! I told Him what I would like for Him to do and be to me in our relationship, and He gladly went with it, accepting His sovereignty as He should (and as I desired.) I had already done some research by reading many books – some very good and others quite bad. I joined several websites for submissives or those interested in BDSM so I could learn as much as it is possible to learn without actually doing any of it!

I met some ridiculous fakers and a few very nice people who to this day are still my mentors. The one true fact I learned early on is that a caring, trustworthy BDSM practitioner will NEVER push you to do something dangerous which you are unsure or scared to do. They will gladly share their contact info and go slowly with great care and patience. In many instances, BDSM has nothing to do with sex. It has everything to do with control and discipline. Can you listen carefully to directions and obey them? Would you do whatever someone told you to do, knowing you had agreed beforehand, and that no harm would happen to you? Even if it involved pain? Even if you could not see or hear what was happening?

Would you engage in breath play or blood-letting? Would you let yourself be humiliated? What about if it was in public? Would you allow yourself to be on loan to another Dominant? These are all questions and ideas which are a big part of many kinky dynamics. Of course, many kinky couples do not engage in edge play at all. Maybe they use nipple clamps, body wax, butt plugs (small ones), and floggers or crops. Most of us do not even own a real leather whip.

There is a huge part of the D/s population now whose dynamic involves the Daddy Dom/Little Girl scenario. The submissives call themselves littles, and often call their Dominants Daddy. It is rarer to find hard-core BDSM play among the DD/lg subgroup, but those who do play on the edge, play very hard and dark. Usually these submissives long for their childhood. They like to dress as a girl in girly colors and clothes; own stuffed toys they call “stuffies” and allow Daddy to care for them in a paternal, caring, loving way. He may be a disciplinarian, but he is a loving and caring Daddy-partner. He may administer necessary spankings when his little girl has been naughty. These women-girls like to color, play with toys, and run to Daddy with their problems and for hugs and love.

There is so much to absorb and learn in the BDSM world. It truly is like any other new interest; you can’t simply decide one day you are going to be a D/s couple. It means educating yourselves and seeing if it will work for you. When we get discouraged, Sir says, “remember, Tiger Woods didn’t learn to play golf in one day or even one year. It took him years and years of learning and practice.”

Excellent advice! ♥


What’s in a name?

Something that’s bothered me for quite some time now is quite simply, this:

Ham salad submarine sandwich



                 The USS Topeka (SSN 754)                     SUB



We are submissive in our manner and name. I, for one, do not like to be confused with a sandwich or a ship which is capable of remaining under water for long periods of time. I’m also not “subby” or “subbie”.  Sir does call me sub from time-to-time, and during our next downtime or non-D/s chat, I’m going to share with him my thoughts on this subject. Of course, whatever He chooses to call me is what I will answer to, because after all, I am His.

Who We Are, Part Two

We’ve been married nearly 22 years. We went through a rough patch several years ago. My husband’s career has always kept him working extremely long hours. I grew accustomed to doing so much in our day-to-day existence on my own, without asking him or even needing his advice or input. I hated to bother him at work. In fact, as terrible as this sounds, he was just plain not around for many of the things most husbands and fathers would want to see and do with their wives and children. He was ALWAYS working. When our daughter and I (or just me) went out, or to services at our congregation, people always asked where he was fully knowing the answer would be, “working.”

He missed her gymnastics, dance, karate, and most school events. He was never home to have dinner with us, preferring to finish up then come home and eat very late alone, take a shower and go to bed. After years and years of this, I became more and more angry and annoyed. That wasn’t what I signed up for when we got married! He missed our daughter’s entire childhood! He kept saying he was doing this so he could retire at a young age and not have to work anymore… but to me, the cost was too great. And money was always an issue, if I spent it (to him) foolishly. I finally blew up over something small. It was the so-called straw which broke the camel’s back.

I was furious and all the pent-up anger just boiled out of me. We ended up separating for awhile and then going into couples’ counseling. After a rocky start with the wrong therapist, we found the nicest, most caring counselor who helped us get back on track. I moved back home and really opened up to him, telling him how hurt I was by all the years of having to be strong and do everything. It was just not “me.” We talked a great deal in therapy about our daughter – still do. They do not have a good relationship. I told him about my submissive side – about how it is a big part of me and always has been, and did he want to try living as a D/s couple?

That was the true beginning for us. It has been over four years and we are still working hard to be the best couple we can be.

Who We Are, Part one

It occurred to me as I wrote my last post about a few things I enjoy that I haven’t yet properly introduced myself and my husband, who is my Dominant, my Owner/Master/Sir. We are a mid-fifties couple who currently live in a mid-western-southern small town in a big eighty-one year old house on half an acre near downtown, about five minutes from where Sir works. We have one daughter soon to be nineteen who lives with us. I have previously worked in two different but related allied medical fields, in retail, as a proofreader, and done extensive volunteering in our community. I have served on the Boards of several non-profit organizations. In addition, I have written an erotic romance novel I hope to have published, and am currently working on the companion to it. My Sir is a semi-retired professional who now works every other week. So, we spend every other week together! But when he is working, the hours are very long and stressful.

I have always known on some level that I am a submissive. I prefer to let others make decisions and I like to “do” for others and know I’m making a difference by helping. I’ve always preferred to stay in the background and let others shine. When I was growing up, my parents did not use corporal punishment as discipline. I was extremely well-behaved in any case. If I was naughty, all my mother needed to do was give me a certain look and I would burst into tears. I knew I had done wrong and displeased her and it hurt me terribly. My father was a military man, and if she even threatened to “tell your father” I would do anything to get back in her good graces.

When I was a small girl of about 6 or 7 years, an older male cousin was visiting during the summer. He was a few years older than me, and closer in age to my older brother, the middle child in our family.  I was playing in my bedroom with my best friend at the time who lived next door. I don’t recall the exact circumstance, but he came in and began playing with us for some reason. Most likely, we were playing “house” as little girls of our era did. He became mock angry and said we had been bad girls, and proceeded to take us in turns, over his knee and spanked us soundly. I loved it, as did my friend. We begged him to do it over and over, till finally his hand became too sore to continue! Ever since that time I craved to be spanked again. If anyone is unsure or denies that children are sexual creatures, they are very wrong. That was by far one of the most intense and erotic things I’ve ever experienced. Not because it was my cousin – that had nothing to do with it and never changed my platonic feelings for him one iota.

It was the spanking itself, which made me feel so…  good! I grew to associate that spanking, and therefore any spanking, with an intensely pleasurable feeling. I wanted to tell someone how I felt, but who? I sensed it was very wrong to feel this way, and could not confide in anyone. Later I asked other friends if they were spanked by their parents. Very few were, and the few who were did not seem to enjoy it at all! There must be something wrong with me. When I met my husband I could not vocalize this odd thing to him. Somehow during our intimacy he did come to find out after playfully swatting me once or twice, that I enjoyed it, but he had no clue how much!

To be continued…