The Secret to Life

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

Rome, not Paris

When Master and I first set out on this wonderful, crazy, fun, frustrating, exciting, invigorating journey of our new BDSM 24/7 lifestyle a few years ago, it was at my suggestion. He of course knew about BDSM but had no clue I dreamed of living like this and fantasized about it all the time. When I formally asked Him to be my Master/Sir/Dominant/Owner/Daddy, it was with the idea that I would be His submissive and do as He asked, obey His rules and take care of Him and our household. We discussed this in some detail, although I was the one who had done a great deal of research both reading books and online in chat rooms, and by talking with Dominants and submissives I mostly grew to know over the internet. I had been thinking about this for many many years well before “that book” was ever conceived of and published.

Master knew nothing about what it meant to be a Dominant however, aside from what He and I discussed. I gave Him books to read and recommended websites to Him; however He works so much and such long hours that online research is the last thing He wants to do during His precious off time. He would rather spend that time with me. We purchased all kinds of toys to experiment with. The only way for me to describe my experience is this:     as long as you can remember, you’ve wanted to visit Paris. You’ve scrimped and saved your pennies, and picked up travel brochures of Paris from time to time, and after many years finally booked your longed-for trip! The great day arrives, with passport and suitcase in hand you board the plane with such excitement, you are almost trembling with joy!

When your flight lands, you eagerly disembark and plan what you will do first – will you go to the Eiffel Tower? The Louvre? Perhaps shopping on the Champs’ Elysee? You’ve booked a room at a tiny but beautiful hotel and are eager to drop off your luggage and perhaps clean up before a bit of sight-seeing. You pull your bag to the sidewalk outside the airport. Wait – what’s this? Oh no! Surely this is all a bad dream! What a terrible mistake!

YOU ARE NOT IN PARIS AT ALL! SOMEHOW YOU ENDED UP IN ROME. It would be most appropriate to sit down and have a good cry, right? But Rome, while not Paris, is still beautiful. There are amazing and wonderful sights to see, great food, and fabulous shopping. Rome also has incredible historic ruins and museums! Maybe… Rome is not such a bad place to visit after all! This is still going to be a great trip!

You must be wondering why I used this example. The fact is, Master ended up being a very different sort of Dominant than I had in my mind. He doesn’t like setting tasks and rules for me – in fact, he really couldn’t care less about that sort of thing as long as I am polite and respectful. That is His one rule. (Also He likes me to wear pretty panties.)  What I found out is that Master is not so much a Dominant as He is in fact a true sadist. Which I had no idea would be the case. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around this. Because it’s not easy to deal with a real sadist – they call all the shots and they do NOT play. They punish. HARD.

Let’s be perfectly clear

After play I clean our toys. This is one of our favorites for many reasons. It’s long in length and wide in diameter. It stays in place. It’s easily cleaned. The Dominator enjoys it because it keeps me in my place, gives Him a lovely feeling of control while inserting it, and makes me very happy! He really enjoys the tight feeling of fucking with this inside me.  I tend to have quite a few impressive orgasms with this. Clearly, it’s perfect.

Reflection?

I’m kinky, true. Submissive, true. I’m also modest about my body. Right now I’m heavier than I like. Even when not overweight I’m always unhappy with my large saggy breasts and belly with the flap from my c-section. I don’t like to show my body in public or to strangers. I wish I felt differently! So, here is a reflection of me in the clear glass door of our shower. What do you see? Can you even see anything?

Wisdom

Yesterday and last night I was feeling very low. I’ve been so frustrated with our daughter I’m literally beside myself. Even mentioning her in passing, to a stranger, as I did this morning, is apt to bring tears to my eyes. She is perhaps the real rebellious angel, not me. Although Master and I have given, offered, and done all we could for her, she is no more than a spoiled brat unwilling to accept any responsibility for her life and move forward with school, work,  or education. We’ve had to give her an ultimatum to find a job by a given date or we will take her car and she must move out of our house. This is tearing me up inside. I don’t recognize the smart beautiful loving and giving girl I raised. And she is so brilliant.

I know we have her best interests in our hearts. But I feel like a failure as a parent. I want to scream at her and rattle her brain and tell her to wake up, in fact, have done some yelling – but it has not affected her. On top of this is the stress of my own inadequacy as Master’s good submissive. One blogging friend had the best advice: stay strong, forget the past and move forward. Although sometimes I want to be Sir’s good little girl, I am in fact a grown woman, just as I want our girl to grow up and be a strong powerful woman. It’s time for me to pull up my pants and realize I can be whoever and whatever I want. My past does not define me – I make my own future. And if I want a lifetime of happiness with my beloved, I need to stop pouting, be loving, and in turn I will be loved. That was part of St. Francis of Assisi and then the blessed Saint Mother Teresa’s message:

While I am unconcerned with eternal life, and am not even Catholic (or even Christian) I have always loved the simple truth conveyed in this beautiful heartfelt prayer. Somewhere I have it on a card I found in a book (hoping it’s in my bedside table drawer) and I am going to say this prayer morning and night. I DO believe these words. And in the wise words of a friendly bunny!

He tells me not to peek!

But it is irresistible! I love the back lighting in this shot.I only get to wear this collar and cuff set when we are away and we both love the look and feel of them. Happy Sunday!

Actions and Consequences

Last time Sir was off, we were out driving somewhere and talking about our dynamic. Lately I’ve been feeling as if He isn’t paying enough attention to me, or noticing when I am bratty, and so my behavior is just slowly degenerating into backtalking and doing as I please. It’s not what we both want, but without proper Dominant action on His part, how am I to act and respond? I told Him how I felt. He said that if I wanted proper discipline and punishment He was capable of it. We both notice that after a session I am much better behaved. We’ve been embroiled not only in the stress of prepping our home for sale, but our daughter is frankly a major pain in the rear. I will go into that issue in another post. This is where Master and I have our biggest problems, because we parent differently and He was working and not around for so much of her childhood that He let me make so many major decisions regarding her. Now he wants to put His foot down where she is concerned and she and I both resent it – although I know I should not! He is after all her father, my husband, and Master. But old habits die very, very hard.

He was angry with me. She was away for the day with a friend, and when we got home, he needed to use the bathroom. He told me to go into our bedroom and take my pants and panties off and be waiting for Him. When He came out he put our dogs away in the other room. He got out towels and told me to lie face down on the bed. I laughed when I saw two towels and He said “soon you won’t be laughing.” He put my ball gag in and cuffed my wrists together with chain and cuffed my ankles to the spreader bar. Shown above is His anal hook which was soon in place. He said, “There will be nothing gentle about this.”

He used the paddle which He knows I detest. It was not gentle. He had me on all fours so I could not escape His blows or shrink into the mattress. He kept telling me to get up. I was crying after the second hit, and it soon got much much worse. When Sir uses the gag I am always afraid I will choke and we don’t have a safe motion or movement set up. Snot and drool were flowing freely and He came around and pulled my head up and told me to look at Him.

“Do you think this is funny now? DO YOU? ANSWER ME?”

“Will you continue to be rude to me?”

“I think you need more…”

Sir then used His crop to finish His beating. It went on for about 15 minutes but felt like forever. After, He made me suck His cock. He (and I) loved the feel of my silky, crying-swollen lips on His cock. He fucked me and made me wear the hook for the rest of the day as a reminder to be nice. And I am trying.

(We both loved the bruises He left – the best ever.)

Good Girl gone Bad

                                                 

I used to be a “good” girl. I always behaved, never missed school or work, did exactly what I was told, and rarely even questioned anything. I walked along the straight and narrow path of life. After I met and married Master we had a vanilla relationship marred by me unexpectedly developing major health issues just before our wedding. The problem was not resolved by two major surgeries during the first year of our marriage. I could not return to work, whereas I had previously never missed a day in 11 years. Sir finished His medical Fellowship and we moved away from my family and friends. It put a severe strain on our relationship and I fell into a significant depression. Then after about 9 months we bought a lovely house in a better area I loved, and we began to think about having a family (we were old when we got married and had been dating for 4 years prior.)

My neurologist told me my chronic pain just might ease with the hormones of pregnancy, and he was correct! I was able to return to work and never felt better. Life was wonderful. That was 19 years ago. We ended up having a perfect daughter and on her first birthday, moved to east Texas for a better career opportunity for Sir. Again I was miserable. My pain had returned and was worse than ever, with the needs of picking up and carrying my sweet girl. Too, we were now not just an hour’s drive from family, but 1,500 miles apart. I didn’t know a soul. The first two summers we were here, the heat was hellish. I cried every night for the first 9 months and we went to counseling a few times because I didn’t see how I could stay in such a place. Finally, it dawned on me that I was being childish. I had married Master because I trusted and loved Him. It was up to me to try to make a happy home for Him to return to in the evening. I needed to bloom wherever He planted me. He suggested I get out in the community as soon as our girl could attend day care/preschool. I could tell at about 17 months she was bright – trying to spell out her name and learn to read. I called the two schools which were (at that time) not religiously oriented and found that one accepted toddlers. When she began attending a few mornings each week, I joined a few groups and began volunteering in the community. It saved my life and our marriage. I met some dear friends whom I am still close with today.

Yet I was still increasingly discontent at home and often, not really “present” with Master. I made many decisions about our daughter on my own because He was always at work and I was uncomfortable bothering Him to ask simple questions. When He came home late at night she was asleep and we were both too tired to discuss important matters – or the little unimportant things that so-called normal couples talk about over dinner, before bed or as they prepare for their day in the morning. I was for all intents a single parent – and hated it, growing to resent Him. This did not happen overnight, but over years and years of missing His company, support, and togetherness. The only times we had as a family were His rare evenings and weekends off-call, and vacations once or if we were lucky, twice a year. During these times He was so over-tired it was impossible to talk about my growing unease and tension.

This is how a good girl turns bad.

Grumpiness and Punishment

Working as hard and much as I have been recently has made me grumpier than usual. I’ve been downright mean to Master, answering Him in a rude manner and being snippy and nasty. Even at the best of times I tend to be a bratty submissive – it is simply part of who I am, part of my make-up. Master loves and accepts me – all of me, but He will not tolerate disrespect, and I don’t blame Him, as nobody should have to deal with such nonsense.

He tends to not punish me with spankings, beatings, or flogging, because I enjoy all these things and am somewhat of a pain slut. He certainly doesn’t want to have me enjoy His discipline when He is trying to make a point. I know it is going to be very bad when He tells me to lie face down on our bed and I hear Him open a certain closet. Then I know He is going for one of His chastity belts. Sir has two. They are both hard for me to take, but one is nigh intolerable. Both have places for insertables, meaning dildoes and butt plugs. As I have gained a bit of weight they are even more tight and uncomfortable  and He rather likes that even more!

Master intended me to wear the belt overnight. He inserted the silicone butt plug and strapped on the leather belt with attached large dildo. He gave me permission to pleasure Him with my hands only, then swallow His precious seed. He told me I was His good girl, turned over, and drifted off to sleep. I tried to do the same. I couldn’t find a comfortable spot. I was hot. Finally around 5:30 I begged for release to urinate and move my bowels. I have the kindest, most generous Master!

I hope to have learned a lesson. Do you think I have?

Well you see doctor, it was like this…

On our recent visit to my mother-in-law, Master and I took a day trip with our girl and his nephew to San Francisco. It is a favorite destination. The city is so lovely with older architecture and the steep precarious hills with the romantic cable cars going up and down. There is excellent shopping and delicious food to try everywhere you look. The streets of the city are lined with unique, interesting shops which beckon, and it seems to a visitor that there isn’t enough time to possibly see everything. I happen to enjoy cool weather so it is a treat to leave the torrid heat behind and be able to walk to our heart’s content.

One of the greatest wonders of the modern world must be the Golden Gate Bridge and I never tire of driving across it nor admiring it from whichever viewpoint happens to be available. Considering this was built in the 1930’s and is still one of the longest suspension bridges is remarkable. The cables are quite simply amazing. The bridge is painted its unique orange-red color annually. The work is begun at one end and it takes the entire year to complete, so when the painters finish they start over again.

We always eat Dim Sum in Chinatown when we visit. Dim Sum means “dumplings” but it is more than that. It’s traditionally served as brunch and women push carts laden with bamboo steamers from table to table so you may choose which dishes you desire. It is quite inexpensive unless you go to a high-end place. It’s fun to go in a group so you can try more items. Usually each steamer holds three to four of the same item. It’s mostly rice noodles wrapped around things such as shrimp, scallops, pork, etc. Often things such as cilantro, spinach, garlic, and more are added. There are literally hundreds to choose from at a good restaurant.  Afterward, we wandered around Chinatown and found many intriguing shops. There are many stores which sell only tea. I wish I knew more about the science of brewing tea, because it is my favorite drink – hot or cold.

We found a souvenir shop where daughter wanted some t-shirts for her friends back home. Master found the box of ben wa balls you see above, and I knew we would have some fun upon our return home. So after we went to my mom’s to see her and get our two little dogs, and daughter went out with friends, the fun began. We already have two sets of these; one set of plain gold which is smaller, and another smaller set which are rubber coated, joined together and have a tag for easy removal. Master had great fun trying (and ultimately succeeding) in placing one inside me. It wasn’t pleasant but once inside I really couldn’t feel much of anything. They do make a very pleasant chiming sound, and I was hoping to hear/feel this inside, but I couldn’t.

Then He decided to fuck me while the ball was in my cunt. That was decidedly unpleasant (for me) although Master enjoyed it. He asked if I wanted to leave it in overnight, and although I really did not mind, in retrospect, it was wise to not do so! Master tried to remove it. Really, He did. He told me to bear down. He told me to push. He stuck His fingers inside but could not grasp the thing. Balls are slippery, you know, especially lubricated ones. We were at a loss. (Bear in mind, I never could push daughter out after 20+ hours of labor and 4 hours of pushing…)

I might remind you Master is a physician. He knows most people here in our small town medical community. He was displeased with Himself. He tried inserting a lubricated spoon, thinking to place it above the wretched ball and push it out. No go. I suggested the smaller of my kitchen tongs to possibly grab the thing…?  Nope. At this point He said I was starting to bleed some. I tried pushing again and felt as if I were back in the L&D room 19 years ago. We were both perspiring profusely now. I suggested lying face down, placing my feet against a door frame for leverage and pushing. That didn’t work either. Then I had the brilliant idea of sitting on the toilet and pushing as if to have a bowel movement. Bingo! The pretty little ball popped out and landed in the bottom of the water (no poop…)

Master praised me to the heavens and apologized over and over. Needless to say, we will not be playing with balls again anytime soon!