Please Sir,

cherry

Any of you other submissives out there ever have the desire to ask your Sir/Master/Daddy/Owner for something which is totally out of character? For me, I never or rarely ask Sir for anything sexual. It just is not my thing. I’ve never had a need for this. I enjoy sex, true, but I also can go for very long stretches of time without it at all. Perhaps I even might be one of those women for whom a chastity belt – the type which is worn 24/7 and only removed when Sir desires it – you can even attend to toilet and personal hygiene while wearing it – would not be unpleasant as long as the belt fits properly.  Of course, if I need something I do ask Sir. He doesn’t want me to ask when I need routine household items; that would be a bit ridiculous, and after all, my Sir is a very busy man during his work week.

Sir also doesn’t  require (at least yet) that I ask to masturbate or even to have an orgasm. He enjoys my pleasure as much as I do, although recently I did ask if I could come and I think he was secretly very pleased. During the weeks when Sir works (he works every other week) we rarely are intimate – he works very long hours and is too exhausted to do much more than work, eat, shower and sleep, then repeat it until his week off. When he is off, we enjoy each other as much as we are able and have time for.  A few days ago I woke up and Sir began to caress me, fondling my breasts and kissing me. I relaxed and felt myself get wet very quickly.  Often Sir will place a butt plug  – however this time he didn’t. For some reason, I actually wanted it! He squeezed my ass hard and told me to suck his hard cock. He played with my clit for quite awhile… But I could not come!

Was it because I wanted more but was hesitant to ask for it? I have never been good at telling Sir what I really want. That’s why he is stressing I need to communicate better for our D/s to succeed. For example (and this is pretty silly) Sir loves to watch CNN all the time (I mean really all the time) and even tends to leave it on while we are intimate. I don’t like that. I told him once recently that it bothered me, and he turned it off. No big deal! The next issue will involve our three dogs. We have two Chihuahuas and a Boxer. They’re generally wherever we are in the house, and our two littles are usually on the bed when we are, even during sex, except when we go to sleep they go to the laundry room. Our big boy sleeps by our bed, on his bed.

The issue is if/when Sir spanks me. They don’t like it. At all! And so that upsets me too. I don’t think they should be with us at all at that time because it’s traumatic.  Also, the other day when I wanted more, I also REALLY wanted Sir to spank me. So, these are my thoughts, which I believe I will be sharing with Sir. SOON.

Trying

DEDICATION
ded·i·ca·tion
ˌdedəˈkāSH(ə)n/
noun
 1. the quality of being dedicated or committed to a task or purpose.
  1. “her dedication to her duties”
    synonyms: commitment, application, diligence, industry, resolve, enthusiasm, zeal, conscientiousness, perseverance, persistence, tenacity, drive, staying power;

     

    I’m going to dedicate myself to being a better wife and submissive. As long as Sir is willing to try to be my Dominant, since I’m the one who asked for this relationship, it is wrong on every level to not only go along with Sir for the ride, but to be as good as I can be. It doesn’t matter whether we are older than most BDSM couples or that we “almost” divorced several years ago because of infidelity and being at cross-currents with one another.

    No, nothing matters except our love and dedication to one another. And we definitely have that! Even if Sir might not live up to some of my expectations and I know I certainly don’t live up to his. I not only suspect – I know I am not a good submissive. I am sassy and bratty, and most often would rather just do things my way. This is years of learned behavior. However, I want to try and I want to be good. I want to obey. I want to do as he asks and more. I want to have a pleasing tone of voice. (How, please?) I want to love and be loved, communicate and serve with joy and love.

    I pray with all my heart this will be our future as long as we both shall live!

Working

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The picture is of my best friend and me, a million years ago when we were teenagers. At that time you could have an “old-fashioned” sepia-tone photo taken at a kiosk in some of the shopping malls, and this gentleman did a wonderful job, even duplicating the decorative cardboard holder for the photo. He supplied costumes you could choose to make the picture appear authentic. I posted it today because it makes me happy whenever I look at it.

Sir is trying very hard in His Dominant role. He spent much of last week reading about Dominance and submission. We spoke at length about my feeling dissatisfied with lack of direction.  I can’t even express what it means for Him to truly take my words to heart and for Him to use His precious time to work on us and our relationship!

And this comes also during the time we are preparing for our move “home” in a few weeks to California. My mind is  distracted with shopping for new carpet for the house (which has the original, having been through a multitude of tenants and launderings.) As well as getting price estimates for the move itself; going through closets of stuff to see what can be donated or discarded; taking photos of all our artwork for insurance purposes; etc etc etc.

During all this, my thoughts drift to my friend, who up until two years ago was single all her life. She is a warm, funny, sweet and kind person, who just never found a partner. Like me, she is in her late fifties.  One day someone in her church saw her singing in the choir and knew he had to meet her. He had lost his wife to breast cancer, and was tired of being alone.  They met, dated, and ended up falling in love. They will be married in December!

I’m submissive but not less than him

It’s been awhile since I last wrote anything of substance about how Sir and I were doing. If you follow me you know ours has been a rocky relationship, marriage, and 24/7 D/s. It should have been a clue to me that things would be this way since it took Sir 4 years to propose marriage to me. I was about to break up with him, to be honest. He has always put his desires, his work, etc before what I wanted in our relationship. When I think about it, this is not how it should be. It should be both people having a say, even if one is submissive to the other.

If you follow my blog and have read prior posts, then you already know out of extreme frustration and boredom… I cheated in my marriage. Not once, as Sir knows about, but many times. He was always working incredibly long hours (every day 12-14 hrs plus every other night and every other weekend on call) and moved us away from all our family and friends. (I had begged him not to do this even before we married) and completely neglected me and our daughter. Not only that, he questioned my judgment in spending money (as he saw it) recklessly. As in buying our daughter a high school yearbook. So, I blew up and left him for awhile. I moved in with my mother and we shared custody of our daughter who was in high school. He found out about one instance of my cheating, which he blamed himself for. It wasn’t long – maybe 6-7 months, and we finally went to couples counseling together, I moved back home and we avoided a divorce. I told him I wanted him to be my Dominant (he was thrilled) and be more present in my (our) lives. Things improved for awhile.

But he is not a good dominant. He just… is not. He and I have been happy with the increased frequency of sex, and all the toys we’ve bought and been using. But to him, D/s is really all about sex. And that just is not true. To him, being D/s, means even more than before, everything revolves around him and his needs, wants and desires. I do not feel cared for. I do not feel nurtured. He never talks during sex or tells me anything – either sexy, humiliating, or otherwise. Except to tell me what he wants me to do. I’m never thanked for my service and rarely if ever told I’m a good girl. I never get a pat or caress on the head or back. I get a peck on the lips when he comes in at night and the only other kissing is during sex.

I have bought and given him books about D/s and Domination. I have directed him to websites I thought might be of interest which might be helpful or interesting. He certainly has time to watch CNN when he comes home. But he tells me he “doesn’t have time” to check out all those websites. I don’t mind being told what to do – being given directions, rules, and guidelines – in fact, I thrive on it. I’ve told him so. Why is it he still keeps asking me where we should go, when we do eat out, every. single. time. ?????

We have a beautiful daughter. We live in a gorgeous house full of amazing artwork and lovely furnishings. I’ve thanked him for all this and told him how blessed I feel and how fortunate I am. But most of the time inside, I am miserable. I don’t think this is how love is supposed to feel.

How do you serve?

MAMaid

A blogging friend wrote today about the roles in her household, and the ways in which she serves her Sir. She is very much dominant in the outside world, and submissive at home.  I can relate to many aspects of her life, as I once worked outside the home and had a demanding job which I enjoyed. Often the job required me to put in many hours of overtime to insure the work was done on time, and many times I was only comfortable doing the work myself because I knew (or felt) that I did it better than my coworkers. I always enjoyed working by myself rather than with others, and worked faster and better alone. One of my former supervisors once approached me and complimented me on my work, noting that she thought I was very much like her in that I worked well and better by myself. She had been observing me to do my evaluation. I never forgot what she said because it rang so true.

My friend wrote because of her health issues her Sir takes care of many household chores and duties. She noted what a lovely dominant act this was, and I agree. I can’t help but think how this would never happen in my own home. Not that I am wanting it to! I happen to thrive on acts of service, and I am a homebody. My Master has always been a very hard worker outside the home and when He walks through the door, I would not want Him to have to think of anything except that His home is a refuge for Him from the stresses of the outside workaday world . I want to have a clean organized home waiting for Him as long as I am able – with dinner (usually) waiting and the bed made and things neatened up. I like doing His laundry, ironing His shirts, even taking out our trash and doing all the little things to keep our little nest clean and running smoothly.

That’s not to say Sir does not pitch in. He offers to do the trash and recycling and loves walking the dogs with me and any gardening chores. He’s very much a nature boy. But way back in the early months of our marriage, before D/s was even a twinkle in my eyes, we discussed who was to be responsible for what. I agreed that the house was my responsibility. You see, even way back then, over 20 years ago, I knew, craved, and wanted to be submissive to my husband. I need these simple tasks – and others as well –  to keep me on track.

Memories of my Father

strop

For many years I have resisted writing about this. In case you don’t know what this photo is of, it’s an antique barber strop. A strop was, or is used to sharpen a straight razor used to shave men’s beards. It used to be made of leather, with a canvas or thick leather cover or side used to polish, wipe,  or buff the razor after sharpening.

My grandfather was a barber. He came to America from Russia and opened a barber shop in downtown Los Angeles in the 1920’s. His two sons, my father and my uncle followed in his footsteps, both going to cosmetology school. My uncle owned a women’s hair salon in Santa Monica for over 40 years. My dad had a bad back, and although he enjoyed it, chose the military instead as his career.

My father came from a broken home. This was back in the day (the 1920’s) when divorce was truly unheard of and considered a scandal. My grandfather was a womanizer, a gambler, and liked to drink. My grandmother left him, taking my uncle with her. That meant that my dad, who was a little boy, stayed with my grandfather and slept on a cot in the back of the barber shop. I don’t know what he ate or who cooked. When my grandfather brought his women in, what happened to my dad? He had a scar on his arm and one on his face which happened when he was a boy and I believe his father was responsible for them. My grandmother wasn’t a good mother – she shouldn’t have split up her sons like that. It permanently damaged my father.

He kept a razor strop like the one in the photo – it may even have been his father’s – always hanging on a hook on the back of his bathroom door for as long as I knew him. He didn’t use it for razors. When my oldest brother was born, the doctors knew he wasn’t normal. They told my parents to put him in an institution. (This was 1948.) My mother refused. She took him home and showered him with love and attention, and my brother always went to regular school, struggling along with her help. He eventually graduated and learned to drive, attended junior college, has held many jobs, knows how to use computers, has his own condo, loves to read, and is very intelligent, more than many people I know. But my father being a military man could never accept that his son wasn’t perfect. He resented the attention my mother gave to him. I remember the horrible names my dad called my brother; the fights; when my father would drink it got very bad. I was so little but I remember my father chasing my brother around our house with the razor strop and beating him. I recall him screaming at him to get out of the house. I could not have been more than 5 or 6 years old.

There is so much more to say about this. Perhaps (I have often felt) some of this explains my desire for submission. Many times, my mother tells me, she thought about leaving, but times were so different then. As my father aged, he mellowed somewhat. And of course eventually my brother was able to move out on his own, which helped matters. I will never forget the day when my father called my brother and me into the living room where he was watching TV by himself and said, with tears in his eyes, “I want you to know that I always loved you.”

My brother still can’t forgive him. It was too little, too late. I understand. I do forgive my dad, though. I understand him. He was damaged. He actually was a very emotionally weak man. Still, I love him and miss him. But there are things I am, and always will be haunted by. You can’t change your past, but you can try to understand it and become a better person by not repeating the same mistakes your parents made.

The Secret to Life

fried-green-tomatoes-563ab2ecc65f3

This holiday season I need no gift other than the secret to life as told by Fannie Flagg in Fried Green Tomatoes: Friends. Best friends.

I’m so grateful to those who read my blog and particularly a few of you whom I’d love to visit and share a couple of precious hours chatting over a warm drink. You see, kindred spirits know no boundary and recognize each other even sight unseen through the miracle of the internet. I know we would laugh together and no doubt cry as well, talking about life and the path it has led us down. The partners we have been with, our children, aging parents, family drama… and our path of self-realization. It strikes me I could talk openly with some of you and discuss things I haven’t told anyone else. I know you would accept and not judge me. I know too, you would offer words of wisdom and advice. As I would do for you! I love you all, and wish all of you happy, peaceful, healthy, prosperous times ahead. Oh, and may there be loads of fun involved!! xxxxx