I am His and it seems my tears are as well...

He was here.  He held me, he bit me, he pinched me, he made me cum.  I served him, I loved him, I surrendered to him, I cried.  It seems that my crying when he is here has become a regular thing.  I often don't know why.  I do know that I cannot cry in front of anyone but him.  I rarely cry even when I am alone.  He tells me he sees my tears as a gift that I only give to him.  Sometimes I see my tears as a failure, as a weakness of my submission.  He wants to hurt me and take me farther, he wants to challenge me and reprogram me.  He does not want to harm me or damage me.  He wants me to enjoy his enjoyment of me.  He is careful with me and caring of me.  He knows of my past.  He never wants me to feel abused or frightened of him and I never do.  Yesterday though, he was pinching and biting and grabbing me.  It hurt, but it also turned me on.  I wanted it, I wanted him, but then I knew I was going to cry.  I could feel the bubble deep inside of me, the bubble of emotions, of tears, of release.  It kept getting bigger, closer to the surface.  I couldn't contain it.  It rose to the top and overflowed out of my tear ducts.  I cried, I sobbed, I felt myself break inside.  He asked if I was okay, he asked what was wrong.  He asked if I knew what brought on my tears.  I had no words to tell him, just emotions, just tears.  I still don't know why.  I think that sometimes I become so overwhelmed by sensation and by him that I cry, because that is how I react when my control, my demeanor crumble in the wake of his control of me.  This time it was partly his bites.  It was not as if he hurt me badly, it was as if he bit through my shell.  He pierced my armor.  He broke through to where the tears are, even though I think they are/should be gone.  I am safe with J, I am safe to submit to him, surrender to him, be myself with him, be honest with him and cry with him. 

It is sometimes to tell him and to express here what I feel and what I think.  That is because, when it comes to him, to us, my thoughts and feelings are combined with imagery.  I can see images of what is occurring inside of me, I can share those images, but they may only make sense to me.  At certain times, he leaves me without words at all.  I cannot talk to tell him or answer him.  He literally leaves me speechless.  I have never been able to let go to this extent before.  I have never been able to give myself so fully to anyone.  No one has ever been able to take me, control me, pierce me, hold me, comfort me, know me like he does.  He is the most amazing, sexy, intuitive, intelligent, compassionate and dominant man I have ever known.  He makes me feel beautiful, sensual, smart and his.  I will always be his.  Each time we are together, he establishes that even more than it already is.  I love what he does, how he does it, what he lets me do and who he allows me to be.  Thank you J, I look forward to the next year with you and the one after that and the one after that...

Thoughts for Him, reposted with permission

Being in a long distance relationship, as we are, much of our interaction is online or over the phone.  We are able to be together more often than many who are separated by distance, but it is far from a daily or even weekly occurrence.  On the rare occasions I go onto Fetlife, I read how others are dealing with the obstacle of distance.  I am sometimes amazed at how many relationships exist only online.  How many subs are "collared" by Doms they have never been (and may never be) acquainted with in real life.  Before J and I met in person, we definitely had established a dynamic which certainly held up to being face to face.  Though there was always an intention that we would meet.  I will keep my reactions to "online only" D/s to myself, or at least save it for another post.

J and I have become very adept at communicating.  I think that is imperative whether the relationship is long distance or 24/7.  He is very good at planting seeds of desire and submission in my mind and allowing me to grow them into something more.  He also reinforces things we have shared or talked about by revisiting that in discussion or asking me to write to Him about it.  I both send e-mails and write on a private blog (that is only available to J and I).  This is a post from that blog.  He did not direct me to share it here, but He did tell me that it deserved to be public, so that others could see it and ultimately see me through my words.  what He actually asked me to write about (or at least how I took His request) was my physical reaction to our conversation and the directive He left me with after our conversation.  That was my intent, but my thoughts took another path and I let my writing follow that path.  These are my thoughts on how His dominance affects me and on my own fears and insecurities about my submission.  I do tend to impose more expectations on myself than He imposes on me.  He has never expressed disappointment in me or in my submission, but I frequently feel I have fallen short of what I am capable of.  Since I have already wasted much time on the explanation of what is written here I will simply get on with reposting what I had written.

Last night, during your call, while you were directing me and possessing me with your voice, there were so many thing going through my head. You evoke so many emotions and feelings and sensations in me.  That always is a bit of a surprise to me, even though I know the power you have over me and how easily I can slip into submission for you.  In the course of my everyday life, I tend to be a little stoic. Not truly unemotional, but I know it is pointless to succumb to worries and fears, so I just sort of gloss over them and put them on the back burner.  Things do have a way of always taking care of themselves.  The happy times are there of course, I enjoy life and friends and family, but even that is subdued and balanced by the things I choose to ignore.  With you that filter is not existent.  You encourage me to let go and feel it all.  You encourage me to face my fears and embrace the ecstasy.  I can relinquish the control that I normally hold fast to and really feel it all.  It is freeing and intimidating at the same time.  It puts me in a very vulnerable place.  It is a place I can only be in with you.

There is always a moment were I struggle, I feel a small bit of panic creeping over me.  I get the urge to push the feelings away and grasp onto self-control.  It's like going into a free fall state, my whole body wants to jerk and grab something safe and anchored.  Your presence is my safe anchor, whether it is you physically holding me or your voice that is holding me, I feel you supporting me, keeping me safe.  I feel you holding me, leading me, taking me.  It is probably a strange analogy, but it feels like a womb.  I feel I am completely inside of you, you are all around me and you protect me.  I am usually a little disoriented, my mind is in an altered state, but your voice and your arms are like an umbilical cord, they are a lifeline for me.  Holding me and anchoring me to keep me from falling too far.  I am flooded by sensations and thoughts, often fragments of memories.  I am overwhelmed by everything my mind and my body experiences at that time.  I think that is why I cry.  It is my physical reaction to so much, but it is also a release, a release of my control of fighting for control.  I can let go and just be, just feel.  I am not sure I can even describe the feeling.  It is like drowning, but without the panic.  I feel vulnerable and almost childlike.  Maybe helpless is a better term.  I don't like the Daddy dynamic, because of the connotations it holds, also it denotes an inequality of those involved.  I think it is an expectation of having someone assume responsibility  for another, not just at that moment, but in general.  I can understand it though, because at times, my feelings and reaction to you have a childlike feel.  You feel very paternal to me at those times.  I trust you to care for me and keep me safe.  It is the belief and security to know you will make things okay.  More than that, I always feel as if I have always known you or at least been connected to you in some way.  Like you are an entity that has always been present in my life, or there and connected, waiting for me to find you and invite you in.

When I think of you and what I experience with you, I cannot pigeon-hole my feelings, emotions, desires or experience.  It is all so integrated.  You fulfill me and stimulate me in every way with everything we do.  I love dining and talking with you, but it is so much more than that, it becomes a sensual, sexual experience for me.  Even shopping with you, or setting up the booth at Lexington, all are intertwined with desire and want.  Yet, the sexual interaction we share is not only sexual, it is also spiritual and intellectual.  I know my explanation is poorly worded, but it is as good as I can explain.  I have never experienced a relationship that was so holistic and unified.  You touch and affect every part of me, I am completely yours. There is no part of me that has not been influenced or marked by you.  There is nothing I can reserve or keep from you.  My desire is to give you everything, but that is because you already know and generate everything within me.

It effects me in other ways too.  My thoughts and fantasies often do not go beyond what we have, or at least what we have discussed.  I do think about another woman, or piercings, or even more intense play.  What I have experienced with you is very intense though, it is hard to imagine anything that goes beyond that.  I think about things, but I never feel I need more.  I am not opposed to new things with you, to the things we have discussed, they intrigue me.  I know I don't need them though.  If what we share is all I ever had, it would be enough.  It is so much more than I have ever known.  Even benign contact with you provides me with so much.  My sexual desires for you are not any more than my desire to simply share time with you.  Talking and being with you are as fulfilling and comforting, in their own way, as the D/s and the play that we engage in.  Sometimes, my greatest desires are for the simplest things, to talk with you, to hear your voice, to look into your eyes, to kiss you or touch you.  Other times my mind goes far beyond, beyond even what we will probably ever do.  I allow myself to think about extreme play or experiences.  I have thought about branding or cutting, even though those things scare me and I know I would never want to actually do that.  I have thought about complete surrender and objectification.  Of you sharing me with other men.  Those fantasies are usually brought on by things I read or videos I watch, again I cannot imagine truly desiring that, it is the idea, the totality of that surrender and obedience that appeals to me.  When I think of those extreme situations, I have a mixed reaction.  Part of me gets very turned on and part of me is repulsed by it.

There are other fears too.  Fears of a more practical nature, though still unlikely.  I fear losing you.  Not that you would leave me or disappear from me, but fears that something would happen to you.  I think about how I would not know, that I would have no way to find out.  I think about how it might be days before I knew something tragic happened, perhaps by seeing something posted on Facebook, or by calling your office because you were silent and being told something had happened.  Or not knowing at all and being left to wonder.  I know that is a terribly morbid though, but it sometimes surfaces.  I worry that if something happened to you, someone would find our texts or my pictures on your phone or on your computer.  I think about how painful it would be to return to a life without you in it.  Or worse, that something might happen to you and I would not be able to be there for you, to care for you to be able to see you and help you.  These are not really things that I dwell on or think about often, mostly because they are unlikely and there is nothing I can change by thinking about it.  Yet, I am aware that possibility exists.

Then there is the fear of disappointing you, of failing you.   I know you have wanted me to search for another woman for us.  I have so far failed in that task.  It is not a lack of desire for that experience, it is more of a lack of knowing how to do that.  It is also due to time constraints and now I am making excuses I suppose.  I know I need to work on my profiles and look on the sites I am already on.  By not following through on your wishes, I have already failed in what you have asked of me.  It has not been an intentional failure or refusal, but I have no explanation of myself.  Time is a big part of it, time management at least.  I suppose there is a bit of fear of failure or a trust issue (not having to do with you, but of others).  I will continue to work on that, but I can make no promises.  My intentions have always been there, but I have not followed through like I should have.  I am grateful for your patience and you understanding where that is concerned.  I don't want you to think I am intentionally balking or refusing.  When you talk about training me in my reactions to pain and to sensation, being able to cum from being spanked or caned or from a look or a tone, my mind wonders if that is possible.  I wonder if I am capable of that.  I worry that I will disappoint you with my lack of ability.  Though I would have never thought it possible to orgasm without being touched, simply from your voice and my thoughts.  I never thought I would be able to orgasm as long or as hard as you can make me.  So I know it is possible, but I am not sure I can train my mind to be that adept, to change my reactions to pain or stimulus.  I know you want to take me farther and farther, I hope I am able to comply to your wishes.  I wonder sometimes where my actual boundaries lie, or even if they exist at all.  You have certainly expanded them, changed them.  My acceptance, my desires, my enjoyment of things is vastly different from when we first met.  You have taken traumatic experiences from my past and freed me from them.  You have shown me how to trust and how to love and you have changed me in ways that have impacted my whole life and way of relating to people and experiences.  You have changed my thinking and my physical reactions.  I am a better person because of you.

Okay, I know this was not the writing, the post you were thinking of, this is just where my mind took me.  I will write on your original intention later.  After I accomplish a few things and think on things of a more submissive and sexual nature.  I love you and I want you. As always I am consumed with thoughts and longing and anticipation of you.  I am yours and I will always be yours.

Thanksgiving

The past few months have been tumultuous for both J and I.  Not in our relationship, but separately, in our lives.  I don't know who I am kidding, the past couple of years have been fraught with stress.  What hasn't been stressful or tumultuous or causing any problems at all?  Us, J and I.  We are good, we are perfect, we are twin souls.  He is my rock, my anchor, my perfect love.  No matter what else happens in my life, my thoughts of him, my love of him, my submission to him keeps me grounded.

Today, in the United States, we celebrate Thanksgiving.  No matter that the origins of this holiday are very different from what it is today (aren't they all), no matter that the Christians have hijacked the holiday to make it "theirs", it is (for me) a day to be still, reflect and offer gratitude to God, or the Universe, or Mother Earth for all the blessings in my life.  There are so many I cannot count them.  I am grateful for everything I have and everything I have gone through.  All that I have is a gift, all I have experienced has made me the person that I am.  I am humbled and I am blessed.  I am just as grateful for the bad things as the good things.  The trials have broken me and wounded me, they made me become open and acknowledge my dependence.  I had to be cracked open to accept what the Universe had for me.  I had to be broken in order to be healed.  I had to become who I am in order to be who I am to J.  J and I share a soul, we are opposite sides of the same coin, yin and yang.  I never believed in that sort of stuff before, but now I could never deny it.  I can feel what he feels, I can sense him.  He can look into my mind and heart and know my fears and my needs and my joys.  A a part of him is inside of me and me in him.  That sharing, that bond makes us stronger, helps us go on.  I am thankful for J.  He is my greatest blessing, he enhances everything else in my life.  Together, we are greater than we could ever be alone.  Thank you J, for choosing me, for accepting me, for loving me.



If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you.
When the mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.

Little drops of rain whisper of the pain, tears of loves lost in the days gone by. 
Our love is strong, with you there is no wrong. 
Together we shall go until we die, my, my, my...
Inspiration's what you are to me, inspiration, look and see...

For the more of the story of what is going on in my life...read my other blog, Life in the Dog's House.
I have been lax in posting there too, but it is a peek into the vanilla side of my life.

You are my purpose

There are days, when the longing is so consuming and the ache inside is so strong, that tears dampen my eyes and I am driven to distraction.  There is nothing I can do to lessen the craving, my attempts merely fuel it.  It is more than a need to satisfy a desire, it is a need to be completely owned by you.  I am adrift in meaninglessness, my only purpose is in your pleasure.  It is not your touches or my own physical release that I seek, it is your dominance, your presence, your control.  It is not accomplished by force and show, you are very subtle in your use of me.  Your fingers clamped on my nipple, your hand at my neck, your fist wrapped in my hair, sometimes my cue is a touch so light and gentle it is barely felt.  Your commands of me are just as concise.  Few words, softly spoken, "open", "suck harder", "be still", "tell me", "cum now".  Yet, it is your look that makes my heart skip a beat, not exactly a reprimand, but it bores into me and stops me in my tracks.  It makes me shut up mid-sentence and demands complete and immediate submission. 

You are my meaning, my reason, to serve you and give to you all that I can give.  My reward is your use and ultimately your pleasure.  Feeling you move me and position me to your satisfaction.  Servicing you with my hands and my mouth.  Being devoted to you, as your slut and your pet.  Sinking deeper and deeper into my submission as your presence washes over me and encompasses me.  Craving the marks of your use and possession, needing the sting of your hand and your belt that signifies your acceptance of me.  Hoping for and dreading the bite of the cane and the smack of the brush.  Longing for and savoring everything you give me, from the way you expertly make orgasms spring forth from me and the sweet flood of your cum in my mouth, to your hot piss running over me.  I luxuriate in your nearness, curling up next to you with delight and contentment.  When you are here, all is right in the world.

But when you leave, before you even pull from the driveway, it begins again.  That ache, that need.  I become an addict, counting the minutes until my next fix. Watching, waiting and hoping, for your voice, for your text, for your next visit.  For my chance to greet you, serve you, adore you.  I really am your pet, counting time til her owner's return.

Domestic Servitude give-away

I don't know how many of you are readers of  Domestic Servitude.  It is a blog, put together by Danae and several other ladies, and they post helpful tips, tutorials, recipes and links for making any home run smoother.  This week they are also hosting a give-away for a $45 gift certificate for CSN stores.  Check them out and enter the give-away.

Have I mentioned how much I love this man?

Sometimes I think that D/s relationships are defined entirely by the dynamic.  They are D/s first and relationships second.  If that is the case then we are doing it wrong, because ours is certainly about the relationship first.  We have more love, caring, involvement and intimacy than many couples that live in the same household.  I realize that in some ways, that may be because we are apart.  Many stressors that take a toll on other relationships simply do not apply to us in the same way.  Of course we both experience the common problems that everyone does, money issues, work issues, family issues, we share these concerns with each other and we are supportive and concerned for each other.  Life apart keeps them from being a wedge between us, though I am not completely sure they would if we did live together.

We both have weathered our share of problems the past couple of years.  Personally and professionally, we have both taken a number of hits.  My finances have been teetering on the brink of ruin, I have dealt with my son's inability to properly care for his children, my work has completely changed focus and has become more stressful and dangerous at times.  J's business has seen the effects of a poor economy, His income has taken other hits as well, even as the business has improved, His work has remained a source of stress and contention at times.  More recently, His youngest brother died unexpectedly.  I can honestly say these things have brought us closer.  J has been a source of strength and support for me that I have never experienced with anyone else.  I have also tried to be a source of love and support for Him as well. 

While we do not come home to each other every night, we do talk most days and see each other often.  I am always thrilled to hear His voice or receive a message from Him.  In between, my thoughts of Him keep me calm, content and secure.  I tell Him everything, I laugh with Him, I cry with Him, He is my soul mate and my rock.  I think about Him when I cook, clean, do laundry, go to work.  He may not be here with me, but I do things for Him, with Him in mind regardless.  The simple act of making sure there is enough toilet paper is done with Him in mind.  Each night, when I go to bed, I feel Him next to me.  I touch Him, kiss Him and hold Him, all in my thoughts.  Every night and every morning, I feel His arms around me.  He is home to me, He is everything to me.  I really love this man more than I can express.  Rather amazing, considering three years ago, I shunned intimacy, love and long term relationships.  In Him, I have been reborn, renewed and rediscovered.

Visiting the past

I am not sure if it's due to my age, maybe I am entering another stage of my life.  Possibly I have evolved enough to see things as they were, but differently.  Maybe I am just taking inventory of my gratitude for how things have turned out.  Whatever the reason, I keep being turned around to look back on the past and reflect on what was.

Things I read, things people say to me, dreams that I have, almost daily prompt me to take a look back.  A few years ago, I would have resisted that backward glance.  My life was good, but there were things in the past too painful to recall and better left alone.  I would have claimed that I was over all of that, things had been laid to rest, resolved, so I did not need to remember them or think about it.  J changed all that, He wanted to know about me, He asked me questions.  He didn't press me to tell Him things that were painful for me, but He would tell me, "one day you'll want to tell me about it."  And, since He is always right, much sooner than later, I would.  He did not see my aversion to crying as a good thing.  He told me, "when you are ready, you will give your tears to me," and of course, He was right.  Although, now He might regret that, because I cry for Him all the time.  He has deconstructed the walls I had built.  He taught me how to trust and be vulnerable.  He has opened my boundaries and expanded my limits.  For the first time in my life, because of Him, I have experienced intimacy and love.  He has changed me and He has left His mark on my soul and heart.  The truth as I knew it then and the truth as I know it now, exists only in my mind.  That truth is constantly evolving, therefore, I am constantly evolving. 

As I evolve, I keep revisiting the past and redefining it.  Some parts of my past are simply memories that I reflect on and am grateful for the outcome.  Other parts are more traumatic and I assess their impact at the time and the healing that has occurred.  Then there are the stories from my life that are ongoing, where the end is yet unknown.  The story of J and I fall into this last category, I will have to wait and see what He has in store for me and what the Universe has in store for us.

Perceptions

The past year has led me to reconnect with several people from my past. Old friends from high school, more than a couple old boyfriends. (Love it or hate it, Facebook is certainly far-reaching.) I was thrilled to find many of these "friends". Some of them I hesitated about, not knowing if (or what) they remembered of me. I let friend requests sit while I mulled over what had been. I thought less about who they had been than who I had been. I remembered my high school self as: rather naive (though far from chaste), pretty self-centered, searching for something I wouldn't find until years later, not feeling like I really fit in, having lots of friends, uncertain of who I really was. (In other words, a typical teenager.) I hung out with the "good kids", I was a good kid. I was also pretty sexually active. I had some degree of sex with most of my boyfriends, as well as some "friends with benefits". I was naive enough to think that no one knew and that most of my friends were virgins. I guess I didn't want to be remembered as "that girl". I think that being faced with those past connections I identified with that teen-age girl, who worried about what people thought of her. Now I am not sure what I was worried about.

What has astounded me is the perceptions those old boyfriends have had of me for all of these years. As I have chatted, e-mailed and spoken to them in the course of catching up, I have found the person they remembered is not the person I remembered. Their memories of me are not of the promiscuous, shallow, awkward girl I remember. They remember me fondly, glowingly. Some of the adjectives they have used are: caring, compassionate, pretty, soft-hearted and sensual. One of them told me that he compared every sexual partner he has had to me. Another said he thought of me often and has very fond memories. My first love (and the boy I lost my virginity to), said I will always be a significant person in his life and he will always love me. All of their remarks have floored me. I was never drop dead gorgeous, I never had a perfect body, I never considered myself sexy or even memorable. None of these guys told me this as a come on, none of them were trying to "hook-up" again. I thought a couple of them might harbor some resentment, since I had broken up with them for no other reason than teenage fickleness.

It made me think about our perceptions and memories. My own guilt and insecurities influenced my recollections of 35+ years ago. They also didn't allow me to understand who I was or the depth of my relationships at the time. I tend to judge myself harshly (part of that perfectionist thing). There are things I am very confident about, my intellect, my job performance, my cooking skills. I don't think I am insecure about things, I just don't think about them. Things like my attractiveness and desirability. I don't view myself that way, I wouldn't describe myself that way. I see lots of women that are prettier and sexier than I am. In terms of looks and abilities I think I am average, certainly better at some things and lacking in others. I do take pride in my job. It is challenging, it doesn't make me special, but a lot of people would not do it.

I think there are many things which still color my perception of how others view me. I think I need to be kinder in opinion of myself.

Accepting imperfection

I have always been a perfectionist. Not that you can tell by looking at me, or my house, or my life. That is the problem with perfection, it is impossible to achieve. I never believed I was a perfectionist, because I was so terribly imperfect. I had ideas of how I wanted things to be, those things being me, or at least things that I thought were in my control. Perfectionism results in two things, being constantly disappointed and finding out that there is very little you control. When something in my life went wrong, I always blamed myself. I always felt I had failed miserably. I think that was a contributing factor in my abuse. I ended up in a relationship, and then marriage, to a man that I should have run from. I met him just months after my first divorce. I felt like a failure, I was frightened to be on my own. I did not know how I was going to support and provide for my young son as a single parent. I felt unwanted and undesirable. R preyed upon those feelings, he flattered me and lavished attention on my son. When I noticed danger signs and would pull away, he manipulated my insecurities and doubts. Once we were married, he had no problem placing the blame for things on me and I had no problem accepting it. We did not have a consensual DD or D/s relationship (I did not even know what those were), but he justified the abuse as punishment. It was one more thing for him to blame on me, he told me that I "made" him do those things to me.

Even after I left him, I was a perfectionist, and as a result a failure. It didn't seem that way from the outside. I was a single mother (now to two sons), I was advancing in my job, I had a house. I also completely eschewed any kind of relationships. I had friends (but I kept them at arms length). I did not date (at all, I knew my bad track record was all my fault). I was extremely independent and relied on no one but myself (other people always let me down). I had convinced myself that I just had terrible judgment about trusting others, so I refused to trust myself. I was very careful to do, and to attempt, only those things that I was sure I could be successful at. I didn't risk any more failure.

That fear of failure is paralyzing. Rather than risk failure, you simply don't risk at all. I was reliable, I always helped others (sometimes at my own expense). I could not or would not ask anyone else for help, I would decline help if it was offered. It was more than fearing rejection, I didn't think I was worth it. Deep down, I believed...that maybe I had deserved the abuse inflicted on me. I didn't deserve help and support from friends. I was not sexy or pretty or good. People told me they admired me, they told me how strong I was. Their statements always made me feel like a fraud. I never told anyone of my past, I was afraid if I did they would see me as I was. Weak, tainted and stupid. I never understood how I had ended up in that marriage. I had thought I was fairly intuitive and a good judge of character, that whole bad experience proved me wrong. The only solution I had, was to never have another relationship, for fear of repeating my mistake.

This past week was my third anniversary with J. He is everything I thought I would never find and didn't deserve anyway. He understands everything I am and He accepts everything I am not. He tells me I am beautiful and sexy and a good girl. He tells me I am strong, smart and caring. He tells me that my past is not my fault and no one should have ever hurt me that way. He tells me that He would never subject me anything like that. He tells me He loves me. I believe Him. He has freed me from so much, He has brought me to this point. This point of truth and of accepting myself.

I am not sure how I ended up here. I don't really know why, after over a decade of celibacy and shunning relationships and intimacy, I began browsing "dating" sites. I am not sure what prompted me to send that first message to J. I do believe that I was destined to be with Him. I believe that as soon as I was at the right place in my life, He was placed in my path. I believe that we were somehow connected before meeting. In all of the ripples we send out into the Universe by our thoughts and actions, ours had somehow crossed and intertwined. My whole life has been a journey, I am now on that journey with J. But, even before we were traveling together, I think we were on parallel paths. I am so happy and grateful our paths merged. I am no longer afraid of failure, there is only failure in giving up.

the only way out is through

After I wrote my last post, I had a really good day. My mind was clear, I felt like my old self again. Today, however has been a different story. It started out good, I was tired, but fine. As I began to do things around the house and plan my day, it hit me. I felt it slowly creeping in, waves of anxiety and fear. Thoughts and memories of the past crowded my mind. I tried to push the feelings down, I took deep breaths and reasoned with myself. I knew the fear wasn't real or at least wasn't justified. I knew I was safe. I felt like I was losing my mind, my body reacted physically to my emotions. My pulse raced, my chest tightened up, I became nauseous. I wanted to hide or run away. Even the dogs reacted to me. I was still trying to go through the motions and do things around the house, but I must have been sending out the same energy I was feeling. They became anxious, they crowded around me, they tried to comfort me. Their actions made me worse, I was trying to hide the way I was feeling. I did not want to be touched, not even by them. I began to shake, I started sobbing, eventually I threw up. I absolutely recognized this feeling, it was how I felt for the greater part of a year, right before I managed to break away from him. The more I tried to fight it, the worse it got. I finally sat down and remembered, I remembered the feelings, I remembered the abuse, I remembered the isolation and being discounted by anyone I had the courage to try and tell. Since the abuse was mostly sexual, I never told anyone the details. (I did tell some people that I was afraid of him and I wanted to leave.) As I sat there and remembered, I trembled and cried and pulled myself into a tight ball. I made myself feel it, I made myself think about it, and then gradually the anxiety lessened, the fear dissipated and finally it all was over. I felt better, I felt stronger, I was me again. I am sure that it is not all over, but I understand now that I will have to go through it. I will have to go back and resolve it. I stuffed all of it deep inside for a long time. I have faced it and let some of it out over the past few years with J. He has helped me with that process. But now it is all surfacing, I will need to do this and do this alone. The only way out is through.

I debated about sharing all of it here. I wasn't sure I could put it out there and actually write it all down, but I think that I need to. If you do not want to know any details (though it is not graphic and I have not included many details) or if you disagree with my decision to write this, stop reading now. I do not want sympathy, nor do I want judgment, this all happened a long time ago. This is my story and I have held it inside me for too long. I may write more about it later, I have written some about it in the past, but as I write it here it is no longer living inside of me. I am not ashamed any more, it wasn't my fault. The shame is his, though he will never accept it. He has never acknowledged any wrong doing or showed remorse in any way. I haven't had contact with him in a while, but he still calls my son whenever he needs money. I am letting this go a little at a time. Each time it spills out from me, there is more room inside me. Each time I heal more. Maybe someday, I will be whole.

I had felt completely isolated and alone, I was terrified. I was isolated from my friends and family, he had convinced me that no one cared about me. I journaled at the time, then as now it helped me cope and work through things. It was my only confessional, it was how I held onto my reality, rather than his lies. He found my journal and read it, he twisted my words around and accused me of cheating on him, sabotaging him and lying to him. After this happened, I threw out all of my journals, I only started writing again a few years ago. Even during the years after the divorce, when I was single and alone, I was always afraid to keep a journal. I was afraid someone would find it and use it against me. He lied about everything, even things that didn't matter. If I confronted him about any of the lies he blew up and berated me and by the end he had me apologizing for doubting him. He was using a lot of drugs at the time, he was stealing from employers, friends, family and me. He was abusing me and threatening my son. We went to counseling twice during that time. He would only go to "Christian" counseling and he always did most of the talking. The first time, the woman was a licensed counselor, but she didn't talk to either of us separately. After listening to us (mostly him), she advised that the main problem was my unruly son and that I needed to be more supportive of R (my ex) and his attempts to parent my son and make the relationship work. (My son was about 7 at the time, and my ex was very jealous of my relationship with him). The second attempt at counseling was with a "pastor" of a very large evangelical church. He was also supposedly licensed as a counselor. My ex was much more honest that time, if you can call his act honest (think Jimmy Swaggart...I have sinned). By then he had been in trouble with the law and been fired from several jobs for stealing. He still did most of the talking, he confessed to all the things he had done (those things that he had been caught doing), he cried, he said he was sorry. That counselor did speak with us separately. When alone, I told him that I wanted out, I wanted to get away. I told him I didn't have any resources to do it and I felt I had no support system. The counselor told me that I needed to stay, that R was sorry for what he had done and needed me to stand by him and support him. He told me that R's salvation and redemption depended on me. Basically, I was told to be the "godly" wife and stand by my man. The church offered financial help to us, not me. No mention or acknowledgment was made my wish to leave and get away, no offer was made to help me do so.

He did not beat me, I never had any visible bruises or injuries. His abuse was threats, intimidation and sexual. He hurt me many times during sex, that was the only way he could get off. He often could not maintain an erection unless he was hurting me and when he still couldn't he blamed me. That was when he told me I was a whore, that I was disgusting. That was when he would hold me down, or hold a knife at my throat, and urinate on me. Sometimes he would choke me, though he often did that when he was raping me anyway. He would spit on me and tell me I was a worthless slut, that I would give it up to anyone. Then he would tell me how I had ruined sex for him by wanting all kinds of perversions (nothing I had ever wanted, but all the things he did to me).

My last attempt to rid myself of him (before I actually was successful) was after he had been charged with forging prescriptions and extortion (he was blackmailing a pharmacist to obtain drugs). After his preliminary court hearing, he was released. I would not let him back in the house. I reasoned that he would not force his way in or retaliate against me, because he was already in trouble and it was all pending. He was staying at a seedy hotel near my home. He called me constantly, begging and threatening, trying to get me to take him back. One day he called and told me that he was going to kill himself if I didn't come talk to him. He told me that our son would never forgive me and it would all be my fault. I did not go, I called the police and reported the suicide threat. Officers went and talked to him and then came to see me. They told me that he just wanted to speak with me and why wouldn't I go? I told them I was afraid of him. They asked if he had ever hit me or if I had ever filed charges on him. I told them no, I did not want to tell them what the abuse consisted of, it was shameful for me. They talked me into going to see him, he ended up coming home with me. I am really not sure why I let him come back, other than I just wasn't strong enough at the time to stand up to him face to face.

Obviously, I did get away, I did get divorced. I was able to do that when he was sentenced to a year in prison. I still only could do it with my father's help. My family still does not know of the abuse, they only know about his criminal activity and that he went to jail.

Working through it

I had planned for my next post to be something that J requested me to write. Truthfully, I have tried to put that post together, but I am very distracted by what is going on with me and I haven't been able to concentrate enough to comply with His request. I truly appreciated the responses to my last post and those comments (along with Gillette's post) have given me some sense of my current feelings. I am still struggling with putting my thoughts into words, but I am just going to forge ahead and ramble through this. I hope the following makes sense.

I realize the emotional nature of my being lately has a lot to do with the hormonal fluctuations going on inside of me. I also know that this is not abnormal, but it is quite disconcerting. In Gillette's post, she says...

The most exciting piece I discovered is how hormones affect the brain. All the hormones that are dominant in the reproductive period of life are geared toward creating a chemical proclivity for balance and peace. Opioids are released, literally covering up the paths to our memories. These affect the "primitive" brain- the temporal lobe, the amygdyla, the hippocampus...all places of our deep unconscious stuff. We literally put not only our lives, but also our feelings, on hold to create a safe and secure hearth and home for our progeny....even if we don't have any.

When we start our hormonal shifts (whether during PMS, postpartum depression or perimenopause), those hormones are no longer dominant.. Others that trigger the unconscious areas of the brain increase. Fewer opioids mean memories and the subconscious stuff not dealt with in the past are no longer buried. When we are stressed in life, whether from outer shaiza in our lives or simply because we respond intensely to life, a feedback loop ensues: We get stressed...which affects our hormones...which brings us more stress...which affects us even more.

This describes exactly what I am experiencing. I am feeling and having to work through all the trauma from my past that I had buried in my subconscious for so long. For the past three years, J has helped me face unresolved issues from my past. He slowly dismantled the walls I had put in place to protect me. Their protective value had been questionable, but they had allowed me to avoid any intimacy and pain for a long time. I suppose the only thing they had protected me from was myself. Even as my walls came down, the memories of those experiences were pretty muted. I acknowledged what had happened in the past, but specific memories and the emotions surrounding them were fuzzy. More and more memories have surfaced, especially over this past year. Those memories were painful, but it still was as if they had happened to someone else. I could usually think about them objectively and I spent little time reflecting on the actual experience or exploring how I had felt at the time.

Little by little those experiences and those feelings are seeping back into my consciousness. Snippets of recall pop into my mind, flashbacks of moments, specific minutia, mere minutes of a memory. Sometimes there is a trigger, other times a snapshot just appears like a flash from a camera. I have witnessed the progression of my emotions from that time long ago. The hurt, the fear, the betrayal, the anger, the confusion that all culminated in nothingness. I became nothing, I felt nothing. I retreated within myself, if I just condescended it would be over soon. I was numb and compliant. Lay there and let it happen, don't fight, be quiet and he'll be done with you and leave you alone for now. That disassociation outlived the walls I had built. I remembered, but I was still numb. That novocaine is wearing off and I am left feeling prickly and stingy as the pain seeps back in slowly...

I will write more as I am able. This is all I can express for now, it is a difficult process. I am working through it.

Losing my mind

I have not written here in a very long time, even before that my posts were pretty sporadic. I keep trying to write and deleting my posts. I cannot seem to follow any thought to the end. I start to write and before I can finish, I have completely forgotten what I am trying to say. My entire life has become this way. My mind is racing most of the time, and yet the thoughts race out of my head before I can act on them. I have been fighting a general feeling of restlessness and discontent. That is very unlike me. I am not sure why I have been feeling this way. Possibly the stress I am under, maybe hormones, maybe I am slowly slipping into insanity, at least that is what it feels like much of the time. My doctor attributes it to the first two reasons, but it seems that everything that has been wrong with me for the past ten years was (at least originally) blamed on hormones. If this is the onset of menopause, I wish it would just hurry up and be over with. I could save a ton of money on feminine hygiene products as well as regain my sanity. The fact that I have not experienced any other symptoms (physical) doesn't seem to matter to anyone but me.

I am struggling to keep up with things at work. My work is not suffering, but I have had to resort to all kinds of lists and reminders to myself that are not usually needed. My housework has fallen behind, I get sidetracked so easily I just sort of wander around and find it difficult to finish anything. I write when bills are due on my calender and then check it 10 times a day, because I cannot remember what I just looked at. I check my bank account several times a day, because, I either forgot I payed something or question if my balance in the checkbook is correct. Last weekend I turned the iron on to heat up and my son found it three days later still on (and no, I never did my ironing). It has only gotten worse as I no longer trust myself to know or remember anything. When I do remember, I doubt my own memory.

I have started meditating, which seems to be helping minimally. It is teaching me to slow down and practice mindfulness. I used to be able to multi-task very well. I sort of went on auto-pilot and got everything done. Now I must concentrate and think things through slowly. I try to be aware of what I am doing and not be thinking ahead to the next thing. I have been trying to get more sleep, but sleep is very elusive lately. As soon as I lay down, my mind races even more. I have begun exercising, that is helping very much for the few hours after a really good work-out. I am calm, my mind is sharp and I feel good. However, even if I work-out everyday, the results (for my mind) only last a short time. (Yes, I know, the results on my waistline and hips take longer to show up and last longer.) I have been eating better and eating small amounts several times through-out the day. (I thought some of this might be due to drops in my blood sugar, that is why I changed my eating patterns.) Occasionally, getting some protein in my system helps with concentration and restlessness, but not enough to think that is the reason.

The best thing I have found that helps me focus and slows my mind, is J. Just talking to Him helps some, but when He asserts Himself and gives me directives and plants thoughts in my head, I immediately respond. The chattering stops, I slow down, all else is off my radar, only J remains in my head. It has been a month since He was last here. He was out of the country and since He has been back, He is busy and tired. We talk write and chat frequently, but I miss Him very much. I think about Him all the time, but when I get very restless I try and fantasize about being with Him. I think about Him spank me or play intensely with me. I think that He needs to get my attention, to drive all the other thoughts and worries out of my head. I think I need the release of those endorphins, I need to surrender, I need to find that place inside of myself, and be engulfed in His presence. J grounds me, He focuses me. He always has done that. I dealt with things and managed things on my own for years, I still do really, as He is not here all the time. I do rely on Him though, for even when He is not here, I know I am not alone.

That is all I can manage to write before my train of thought derails again. J gave me a writing assignment close to a week ago, so I will post that next, just as soon as I can concentrate enough to finish it. The longer I go without writing, the harder it is to write something. I got out of the habit and now I must become more disciplined and keep writing again. I decided to think aloud on the blog today to sort of break the ice and get some of this out. I haven't disappeared completely, I've just been lurking about.

Counting the Hours

J will be here in a couple of days. It has been a month since we were together, it seems like ten times that long. He has spoiled me this year, His visits have been very frequent. Of course He could have been here last week and I would still miss Him like crazy. I am very excited about seeing Him. His birthday was a couple of weeks ago and we have not celebrated it yet. I have been so exhausted lately that I hadn't even planned a special dinner for Him. I was feeling drained and uninspired. This past week has been better. I went to the chiropractor and finally quit hurting. I took some time for myself and met up with some old friends from high school. I have been making an attempt to get to bed earlier and I have been sleeping better. Despite my concerns about my grandchildren, I did not keep them this weekend. I feel a tad bit guilty about that last one, but I realized that running myself into the ground was not doing anyone any good.

J always encourages me to take care of myself, it is a hard thing for me to do. He is right though and I am feeling much better than I have in a while. It has given me the energy to get inspired about planning a nice dinner for Him. Last night, browsing through food porn, I found the perfect meal for His birthday dinner. I can't tell what it is, I want to surprise Him with it. Today, I made a trip to Jungle Jim's and bought everything I need as well as a couple of bottles of wine. I love cooking for Him and serving Him in every way. I always look forward to seeing Him. I desire and lust for Him all the time, I love Him more than I have ever loved anyone, I admire Him and truly enjoy His company. It renews me and centers me to spend time with Him. But I have to admit, it is my service to Him and pleasing Him that satisfies me the most. I am delighted that I will be cooking for Him.

I have been thinking and fantasizing about all sorts of things; His touches, His kisses, His spankings, His cock. However, the one thing I crave above all else is sucking His cock and exploring Him with my mouth. I love the way that feels to me, all the different textures and tastes of the different parts of His body. I love how His cock feels in my mouth, the way it makes me feel. Not just the submissive feelings I get from it, but it makes me feel very feminine, very female. Maybe it is the fact that His cock, His maleness, is just right there in my face, maybe it is the fact that I can please Him so much that way. He has the perfect cock. I love to touch it, to lick it and suck it, to feel it inside me. I am a bit obsessed and fascinated by it.

Other than dinner, the rest of the evening will be entirely up to Him. He may decide to mark me, He may decide to bind me, He may decide to see how many times in a row He can make me cum for Him, He may just want me to give Him a massage and pleasure Him with my mouth. He did promise me that I definitely could suck His cock. I'm sure it will be a wonderful evening.

Cocooning

I have not been writing, life has been a whirlwind and I have been feeling as if I am in a race most of the time. My work has not only been extraordinarily busy, but down right dangerous some days. My home life has been wrought with things demanding my time and attention. Through it all, I have been peaceful and thankful, save a few 'woe is me' moments that usually stem from exhaustion and hormonal flux. I have noticed that I have been cocooning. Not withdrawing from people (I have a wonderful support system right now), but wrapping myself up and embracing the solitude when I can. I have needed to do that to keep my head in the right place, otherwise it is just too easy to let the negativity creep in. I think that is why I have not been writing, when I have a moment, I just want to go deep inside myself, rather than write on the blog and put myself out there even more. Writing has always been my way of reflecting and working through things though, so I need to find a balance.

J recognizes the therapeutic value of my writing too, He has been gently reminding me and encouraging me to get back to it. He has been an incredible source of strength and comfort to me. He helps me find a balance in my life that I am sure would be lost without Him. I am aware of how precarious that balancing act is and I credit Him with the ease that I have maintained it. Previously in my life I have struggled with that.

I feel I have so many different roles in my life right now. Some roles that I thought were finished. My oldest son and his wife have been struggling mightily with many things in their lives and parenting has been one of those things. I have had to step in and take more responsibility for my grandchildren, I am aware that I may have to assume temporary custody of them for awhile, though I am hoping to not have to take that step. Since my own boys are grown, my role as a mother had changed significantly, now it is changing again. My parenting has ramped up for my oldest again, except he is an adult, so I have put in place things that must occur for the sake of my grandchildren, but left the responsibility for implementing them up to him. I am hoping things improve for them. I love my grandchildren, but being a 24/7 grandma is not what I envision for this stage of my life.

I also fear that my submission to J might suffer. I am very devoted to Him. I am secure in my role to Him, it fulfills me and meets my needs, as much as it does His. Things have stalled in some ways though, we are not moving backwards, but the forward journey we were on has slowed. I know He desires to take me farther, I desire that too, it is just difficult at the moment. I need to adjust my schedule and find the time to work on the things He has requested of me. Ultimately, I know it will benefit me. But again, I find myself drawing into a cocoon instead of putting myself out there more. I am already feeling very vulnerable, and while my vulnerability to J is a relief to me, being vulnerable to others is very hard. I crave my surrender to J, it allows me to let go of everything else and be free for the duration. It gives me a much needed break from the rest. It also fulfills a very real need in me, it lets me explore a facet of my personality that I otherwise suppress. He will be here soon and I am very glad for that. Although it hasn't been a very long time, it feels like the last time we were together was forever ago. I am hungry for Him, to taste Him, to serve Him, to surrender to Him. I am safe in His hands, I am strengthened by His presence, I am fortified by His love and caring. I am strengthened and calmed by my submission to Him.

Considering all that is on my plate, I am amazingly good. I am blessed and I am grateful and I love this thing that we do, because J does it so well.

Missing J

I am consumed with my need for Him. I know that we could have just been together and my need and desire would not have abated. I use to be patient, His visits, doled out over the weeks would sate me, satisfy me, but no more. I am in a constant state of hunger for Him, for what He offers me. He is very generous, He makes the trip here often, when He is here I am content, fulfilled, I am in heaven. It has not been long since He was here, in my home, in my bed and yet I am delirious with need. So many things I want and long for, all of the things we engage in swirl through my mind, my memory. Yet I dwell mostly on two things, being spanked and feeling Him fuck my mouth.

Those are the things where I so intensely feel His control over me. They accentuate my submission, my surrender to Him. To me they are loving acts, He is always loving and caring towards me. I want the intensity, the severity, I want to be marked and taken and used. I want to struggle with the emotions and also the pain. I want to hear His voice reassuring me, comforting me, even as He tells me He is going to mark me more. I want Him to ignore my tears and my pleas, I want Him to take me farther than I have gone. I want to break through the other side of the pain. I want to lose focus on everything but His voice, His reassurances, His caresses and the strokes He keeps administering. My thoughts of this make my cunt drip and pulse for Him. My desire swells and overtakes me. My mouth waters for His cock, hard from marking me.

I fantasize about all variations of this. I recall the last time He was here. The marks He left, the mixing of the pain and pleasure. My cunt soaked the bed as much as my tears. I clung to His voice and His gentle touches as I succumbed to His hand, the brush, His belt and the cane. As the pain overtook me, so did the desire, the burning inside of me. Not from the marks, but from lust and the need that filled my cunt and my belly. I was His and I knew He would never harm me, but I needed Him to hurt me. I needed Him to do what He wanted with me, not what I wanted. Except it was what I wanted, I wanted my complete lack of control, knowing that I gave that control to Him.

I need that again, more than ever. I need to discover that I have no boundaries, no limits. Only J may determine my limits. He know my limitations better than I do myself. While I tend to think my emotional limitations are much farther than they are, I also know that I feel my physical limitations are are much less than where they actually lay. I want Him to take me to the edge of my ability, I want to go to the brink with Him. He knows me so well, He can seize control of my mind. He can manipulate my reactions, my emotions and my desires. Not manipulate in a bad way, but in a very dominant way. His presence and control swallow me up, He overwhelms me and yet I know I am completely cherished and valued by Him. In fact His control, His efforts affirm that for me. I long and hunger for this with trepidation. I know it will be difficult, I know I will regret my own desires before it is over. I also know that I need it. I am not a masochist, it is about submitting, surrendering. Yet there is a masochistic streak within me, one that longs to awaken and unleash the sadist in Him. I don't think He really desires my pain, but He desires to fill me with sensation. He wants to fill me to over-flowing, to fan the ember inside me that desires this into a raging fire. I want to be consumed by the flames. I want to rise from those ashes, submitted, surrendered and totally His.

Slut

J has been here more often lately. Tomorrow He will be here again for two nights. I am lucky to be able to be with Him more. Our relationship is not just D/s, it is more than that. Despite what we share though, I am always submissive to Him. It is always there, just under the surface, even when our dynamic is something different at the moment. I am a greedy slut for J lately. His being here has been such a blessing to me and also a revelation in some ways. My mind teases me with desires and fantasies, both of things I want and crave and things I may not really ever be able to do or enjoy. I love being with Him, being near Him. I have realized that my joy comes from pleasing Him, touching Him. It is extremely fulfilling to me to be able to serve Him. It makes me feel accepted, content and complete. I love knowing that I have pleased Him, whether that stems from preparing a meal for Him, rubbing and massaging Him, sucking His cock, cumming for Him or feeling His marks on me. I have been reflecting a lot on my submission lately. I have been evaluating why I need it and enjoy it so much. I also have been thinking about how to improve my submission. Improving it and deepening it makes me happy and content. I have not been working hard enough to do that lately, both for myself and for Him. It is a bit of an enigma to me. The mystery of why this is such an innate part of my character.

I have also been thinking about the things that I want and need. I'm sure some people would feel I was topping from the bottom, but ultimately what He grants me is His decision. I ask for things and I tell Him all of my thoughts and desires. He is usually quite accommodating when it comes to giving me what I need. Mostly what I need is to serve Him and please Him, though lately my thoughts have been much more needful of the extreme. I want to be marked, severely. I want to struggle to tolerate His discipline. I want to be spanked and belted and caned. I want my nipples tortured and clamped. I want my cunt to be whipped with His belt. It makes me quite wet and wanton to even think about it. I am feeling quite slutty for Him. It is an odd desire, on one hand I fear the pain and severity of what I wish for. On the other hand, I am obsessed with it. Maybe it is not the severity I fear, but that I will not be able to tolerate it. I have been a bit wimpy of late.

Tonight, when we were chatting, He told me "You will be marked tomorrow." That statement made my cunt drip and clench. There is a point in our play where my mind shuts down and I let myself go. I suppose that some would say this was sub-space. However I cannot always quiet my mind. Sometimes it races and protests and screams at me to get away. Other times, everything meshes and blurs together. The pain and the pleasure become one and I am awash in sensation and surrender. Despite my desires, I am not a masochist. It is the surrender and submission I crave. I crave to be His, completely and fully for whatever He wants or needs. Right now, though, it is my wants and needs I am focused on. Not that He doesn't enjoy spanking me and whipping me, but it is the control we both enjoy. His control over me. I do know one thing though, tomorrow I will be marked. He will give me what I asked for and that knowledge makes me melt. I am a slut for J. I am a greedy and needy slut. I want His cock, His marks, all the attentions He will grant to me. I ache to feel His hands on me. I salivate with the desire to lick and taste everywhere on His body. I don't want to stop until I have been pinched and rubbed and poked and prodded and filled and taken. I want His marks on my ass, His fist in my hair, His cock down my throat and His cum smeared across my face. The phrase, "be careful what you ask for" has crossed my mind, but I am too far gone down this road to exercise caution now. Tomorrow night I anticipate being used and bruised and sated and sleeping in His arms.

Where I belong

J came to see me this week. I know He has been tremendously busy; I did not expect to see Him for awhile. I had resigned myself to that fact. I have been missing Him and wanting Him incessantly. When I am with Him, everything is right in my world. I want to make everything right in His world as well, at least to the best of my ability. I am happy, I am loved, I am special. I am basking in the afterglow.

Don't get me wrong, my life is good, I am blessed and happy. His presence in my life is the icing on the cake. He has made me a better person. He has fulfilled me in a way I never thought possible. Even when He is not here, He influences me. Our relationship, His dominance, encourage me to be better, to do more, to appreciate every aspect of myself and my life. I constantly strive to be the person I want to be. I never quite get there, but I am improving. I do not chastise myself for falling short, I just keep trying. Little by little, I am getting better about things. Little by little I am becoming who I want to be...for me...for Him.

Every time I am with Him, I am grateful. I feel like I have won the lottery. I feel lucky and blessed. He is good to me, He is good for me. I don't know if I can ever give back to Him as much as He gives to me. He has been a guide and mentor to me on my path. He has been my protector. He strengthens me, He enlightens me, He loves me. He accepts me as I am. He pushes me to become more. He loves me for who I am. I delight in Him, I admire Him, I trust Him, I love Him.

I am a spoiled pet, I am cherished, He honors me each time He grants me His presence. He makes my spirit soar. He sees things in me no one else sees. I am beginning to see them too. In His arms, under His hand is exactly where I want to be. I am His, always.

Surrender

You gave me the chance to live again. I surrender everything to you.

I love you J.




There's so much life I've left to live
And this fires burning still
When I watch you look at me
I think I could find the will
To stand for every dream
And forsake the solid ground
And give up this fear within
Of what would happen if they ever knew
I'm in love with you

Thinking it through

Last night I was not in a particularly good mental place. I was missing J intensely. I always miss Him, even if we have just been together. Usually it is a sweet longing and a joyful anticipation of the next time. Last night it was a painful ache, a sense of mourning. I was extremely tired and nursing a headache, so maybe I could not get in the right frame of mind.

I talked to J last night, I think He sensed that something was wrong. He even asked if I was okay. I told him I was and He asked "mentally okay?" He knew, but I declined to share the feeling of despair I was experiencing. I was not trying to hide anything from Him, I just knew I needed to sleep it off and I would be fine. I also never want Him to feel bad that He cannot be here, especially since I am normally practical about it and okay with that. I did send Him an e-mail this morning telling Him, I also added that today I was fine...and I am.

Sometimes it is just hard being apart. Sometimes I am lonely for Him, I pine for Him, I feel a bit lost. Those painfully difficult times are rare. I would love to be with Him every day, but I know our circumstances don't allow it. I also do not want anyone else, I can't imagine not being His, regardless of how much or how little we can be together. Having one day with Him is better than 365 days with anyone else. And we do have much more time than that, He is actually quite good about planning to be with me. All in all, we have a great deal of time, considering we have a long distance relationship. We are together about once a month, frequently more, sometimes a bit less. We talk every day. I write to Him often. We probably communicate more than many couples who live together. We certainly have more quality time and better communication than I did in either of my marriages. Though there are things I wish for. The time we have together is precious and I prefer to spend it bonding, talking, playing, loving. If we had more time at our discretion we could do more mundane things, like grocery shopping and walking the dogs. Not that those things are wasteful, or even mundane really, but they fall to the wayside since our time is limited.

I feel selfish to even complain of those things. I am grateful and appreciative of all that we share. Our relationship is so much more than I ever anticipated or dreamed of in the beginning. I am very aware and appreciative of the effort He makes to see me and talk to me. I have no regrets or second thoughts, conversely I feel lucky and in awe to have what we have. Perhaps I am not complaining, maybe I am just opening my mind to the possibilities. It's not wrong to dream is it?

Anointed

I cannot remember what I have written in the past, and I really do not want to comb through the archives, but I know I have mentioned discussions of piss play. I also know that I have mentioned events that occurred during my last marriage.

I struggle with my perceptions of my abuse at the hands of my ex. At that point in my life, I certainly had submissive desires and tendencies, but no knowledge. I did not know about D/s, M/s or BDSM. He did, to an extent, he was heavily into pornography highlighting those types of play. He never shared it with me, but he would tell me about it. I would willingly try some things and I would refuse to do other things. What occurred when I refused was that he would force me to do it anyway. I classify it as abuse, he did seriously hurt me at times and I felt he might have even killed me had I resisted more vehemently. I am sure his perceptions of what occurred are very different. I am sure he felt he was just engaging in BDSM, albeit non-consensual. He got off on hurting, humiliating and overpowering me. Though as I read through others accounts, I find those things are not uncommon. I have had others tell me that what I perceive as abuse, was maybe play gone too far. Is there a difference? Maybe for some there is. For me it was abuse, it damaged me and changed me.

J has always been loving and caring in anything we engage in. That may sound contradictory, considering we engage in spankings and canings, among other things. The difference is that I am valued by him. What we share is done for mutual pleasure and satisfaction. Our relationship and his domination has healed me in many ways. He has allowed me to explore my fantasies and grow in my desires. He has shown me that these things I desire are not sick and dirty, but can be beautiful and loving.

One thing that I never had desired, or really understood, was piss play. I experienced it as abuse. I was choked and threatened and told I was worthless and then I was pissed on. I was made to drink it, his cock shoved down my throat while he peed. I don't even think it was the act he craved, but the humiliation. The humiliation was fueled by his hatred, his hatred of me, of women and of himself. He was full of hate. That hate hurt me more than the acts he forced upon me. I began to believe the things he told me. I felt worthless and dirty and defiled. The desires I once had to submit were pushed into the recesses of my mind. I decided they must be sick and wrong. I must deserve the things he did, because I was perverted and abnormal. It did not even occur to me that the things he wanted and forced me to do were the same things he condemned me for.

That fear and shame are still there to an extent. When something becomes so deeply ingrained it is hard to eradicate it completely. Though, each day, each encounter, each conversation with J affirms me, heals me, erases those feelings. He makes me feel precious and cherished. He tells me that nothing I could ever do or say would make Him think badly of me. I do believe Him, at least most of the time (there are times when my own shame and doubts creep in). His love for me has allowed me to open my mind. To dig into the past and revisit those fantasies, as well as those nightmares. The funny thing is, I desire some of those acts with Him. Things that I never desired before. The reasons for that are varied and not completely known by me. I do know that I want to be fully His, all of me. I do not want any part of me, or any experience I have had, to belong to anyone else. By re-experiencing those acts with Him, that part of me, that experience now belongs to Him. Nothing with J is ever shameful or wrong. Anything we engage in is defined by us, by Him. I don't view it or judge it from any past prejudices or societal norms. My own thoughts are different, at times they embarrass or shame me. Yet when I share them with Him, even in telling, He makes them okay.

This post was really to tell about an encounter we had last month. I did not mean to go into a long-winded account of my past and our relationship dynamics. I just felt I had to provide some background first. J knows my history, He knows about everything that has happened to me. He is careful and gentle and caring. He is careful with my psyche, He is careful to let me know I am cherished by Him. I am not even sure who originally brought it up, but we have been talking about piss play for about a year. Although it is not something I have ever previously desired, it actually was a hard limit for me. I didn't understand it, I thought it was degrading, in my past it surely had been. But like so many other things, a desire began to grow inside of me, a desire to give myself to Him in that way. For a long time, He told me He did not think I was ready. He has had me tell Him how I imagined it would be, I have written about it for Him, He has told me what it would be like.

Last month it was time, I was ready. I expected to feel very submissive, I expected to be okay with it. I never expected how freeing and defining and spiritual it would be for me. I kneeled in the shower for Him, He stood in front of me. As He began to piss on me, I had a flood of emotions. At first I felt all the old feelings start to come back to me, but very quickly I felt anointed, it was as if He were baptising me, making me His own. I felt reborn and strengthened. I raised my head up and looked at Him, I opened my mouth and leaned forward, taking it into my mouth and drinking it. The shame and degradation that I had once felt regarding this act was gone. He broke the spell of shame that had been placed on me. He took me away from my abusers' grasp. I wanted to yell out; "I did it again, I did it because I wanted to. I did it because I am His. No one forced me, I wanted to." I felt surrendered to J, I felt complete submission. I also felt tremendous strength, stronger than I have ever been. His piss washed away the hold another man had on me, a man I haven't seen in years. I am J's, completely, totally and proudly.

Fulfillment?

Last night, after talking with J and then dutifully writing my post. I went to bed and touched myself. How different it was from the night before. Previously, when I had touched myself and then used my vibrator in search of an elusive orgasm, I had failed. I felt my body respond and then shut down. It was as if my cunt and clit were telling me I was not Him, I was not doing it right, that my fingers did not know how to touch and rub a climax from me. As I had told Him, it was extremely unsatisfying.

Last night, though, with His instructions and His permission in my mind. I did the same things, my fingers followed the same path, but I came. Hard and long and responsively. Obediently, for Him. It was fast and hard and almost violent, releasing the pent up frustration from the night before. I could feel His hands on me, I could feel His fingers, my legs began to draw up, my back arched, I heard moans escape from my mouth as I caught my breath. My muscles tensed more and more, my cunt was oozing and my clit throbbed. Until it all culminated in an explosion that rocked me, as I could hear His voice command me to "come now!"

Though He wasn't physically there, I felt Him pressed against me, His hands caressing me, and His breath and voice in my ear. I was alone in my room, yet under His control. My strong, independent, spoiled self was controlled, owned and dominated by Him. I was reduced to a shaking, breathless and sobbing mass. As I lay twitching and crying, I succumbed to sleep. I can only cry for Him and now maybe, I can only cum for Him as well. Last night He released my tension, frustration, my need and my tears. I was His, as I always am. I was His little girl, His pet, His woman. I love you J and I miss you very much.

Waiting for J and touching myself

I am a spoiled pet. Last month, J was able to visit weekly, before that it had still been more frequent with visits every couple of weeks. Though He was just here a week and a half ago, I miss Him terribly. Tonight, when we were talking, I commented that it was extremely unsatisfying to touch myself. It makes me miss Him more, I don't respond to my own touches as well as I respond to His. I do not cum as easily or as hard as when He makes me climax. I cannot even cum at all without imagining Him telling me to.

His response to my comment was "You keep saying that it's not satisfying. Perhaps I should tell you to wait until I'm there. What do you think?" Of course, that was not what I meant at all. Granted, I would much rather have Him here, but I also do not want to be on some sort of restriction. I tried to retract my comment, to explain what I really meant. I asked Him if He was going to allow me to touch myself. I was pretty horny after talking with Him and I wanted a release, even if it was by my own hand. He told me to tell Him why He should, then He said "Promise to write a public blog discussing this...with an explanation why I should."

So, that is what I am doing. Except the problem being that the reason I want permission is because I am selfish and spoiled. I just want to. That is not a very good reason. He told me He has faith that I can convince Him, that I can cite good reasons. I will try.

Maybe I am not selfish and spoiled, I am really just fairly independent. Not in a bratty or defiant way, but in the way our dynamic allows me to be. He has placed restrictions on me in the past, but only when a visit was scheduled and He was conditioning me for it (so to speak). He is in control, I gladly relinquish control to Him. Though my daily life and activities are pretty much my own. When He is not here, He allows me to govern what I do. I always try very hard to please Him or be pleasing to Him. I also enjoy giving Him control when He is here (or when He is not and demands it). He tends to exert His control enough to remind me that I am His, that I want to be His, that I happy, content and fulfilled to be His. He also wants me to be my own person, to be independent and make decisions. For Him to micro-manage my life and activities would be more of a chore for Him than a pleasure. He also views it as being detrimental to me. He likes and admires my strength and independence. He also likes that I choose to submit to Him.

Aside from the fact that I do like His control, and my admission that climaxes and release by my own hands are not nearly as satisfying as those He gives to me. It is still a release when I touch myself. It still meets a need. It also is a reminder of Him. I cannot touch myself without thinking of Him, fantasizing about Him, wanting Him madly. So, in that respect, even the climaxes I give to myself are still from Him. They are fueled by Him, granted by Him, even if He is not here and is not aware.

My blogging here is a bit of a moot point. He has in effect already given me permission to touch myself. He told me I may..."If you tell me now that you will write a sufficiently compelling reason." So, I hope that this is a sufficiently compelling reason, though He left that up to me. I hate it when He leaves things like this up to me and He knows it. That is why He does it. I am also directed to write again after the fact. I know this is His directive to have me write more. I have been neglectful of the blog. I have several posts pending that I have struggled with. I need to become more disciplined about writing, for myself and for Him. I began this blog for Him, when I neglect it, I am neglecting Him. I am sorry for that.

J, here is my post. I will write the follow-up as requested. I will write more, even when I struggle with it and don't feel like it. I love you. I am yours. Both those facts make me very happy.

The best medicine

I know my last post promised more to come. I promise, it is still coming. Last week my granddaughter was sick and in the hospital. She is home now and recovering, but I have been fighting a cold I caught from my youngest grandson that stayed with me. J was my sanity last week. He gave me strength and focus to deal with the worry and navigate through the medical system.

I have been exhausted. Work has been crazy, though I am not sure it is ever sane or normal. Today was particularly tough from a work standpoint, plus I was feeling lousy. Tonight, J was able to be here for a short visit. Long enough though to make my whole world better. Seeing him, touching him, serving him, being his and also sharing a wonderful meal together made me relaxed, happy and miraculously well. He is a dose of the best medicine for me.

I Like the Way You Move - Body Rockers

I know I just posted, I guess I am making up for lost time. Just wanted to say that more is coming (pun intended) on J's last visit here. In the meantime, enjoy the music. This song makes me want to fuck.

Abiding

Despite the uncertainties I have been dealing with in my life, J has been my constant. He is my anchor and my rock. With him I am safe, with him I am at peace. When I am with him, I feel immersed in his being. He knows me, in every sense of the word. He touches my soul.

I am safe within his grasp. He is skillful in his manipulation of me, not in a harmful manner, but he knows where, when and how to touch me...both my body and my mind. He is gentle with me, even as he hurts me or uses me. I am his, and in that belonging, I am cherished and valued. Never before have I given myself so wholly to another person, and never before have I been so certain.

I love to serve him and please him, and he loves to be served. Sometimes though, he makes it all about me. He sets out to see how far he can take me, how far he can push me, how completely he can control me. I am not talking about control such as, "kneel down and lick my boots, bitch." I am talking about controlling my body, freeing my mind, surpassing my limits. I suppose that those times it is all about me, it is really all about him. It becomes a wonderful synergy between us. It defines our dynamic, the energy and the exchange that occurs eclipses everything else in the universe. It is beyond anything I ever imagined. He is not my master, but he masters me. I am not his slave, but I am wholly and completely his. Nothing we share is one-sided, it is completely symbiotic.

Last week, when he was here, was one of those times. We cooked together, we dined together, we conversed, we reveled in each others' presence. For me, time with J is magical and defining. It isn't mythical, we share our stresses, our worries, our trials, but it is strengthening and revitalizing. I crave him, I crave my surrender to him, I crave that symbiosis. When we are together, that craving is fulfilled. There are so many aspects of our relationship, I cannot list them all. It is playful, loving, gentle, challenging, exciting. It both soothes me and stimulates me. The way he looks at me stirs something deep inside of me, something I have never felt before. I can't even relate to you all the events of our time together, time seizes to exist and in that moment, I am in an alternate reality. We had talked about many things, many kinds of play. All of my desires were crammed in that window of sharing, but my greatest desire was simply him.

My recollection is foggy, I had enough wine to feel it, but I was not drunk. Perhaps I was drunk on him. I don't really remember finishing dinner, or retiring to the bedroom, or all the events that led up to it. That it being him making me climax for what seemed to be hours. Maybe it was hours, I don't know. Part of me was deep within myself and the other part was soaring far outside of myself. All of me was surrounded by him, his presence, his control, his care. He controlled, manipulated and played with my body, not with toys or electronics, but with his knowledge of me, his touch, his voice. He has pushed me before, to cum harder or longer, but never like this. I had no control over my body, I came when I thought it was impossible to come any more. I wanted to stop and I wanted to keep going. I couldn't speak, I could only react. By the end, even the air on my skin was enough to make me cum more. As I curled into a ball to escape his touches, I hunched on his hand and leg to get more. My mind was a prism that shattered into a million pieces. Nothing existed for me except J. I felt his being draped over me like a blanket, I was wrapped up inside of him. I have never felt so surrendered, so cared for, so loved and so owned.

Breaking the Silence

I have been quiet here for a long time. I am okay, but have been feeling different. Last year, especially the end, was hard in some ways. Though I had every intention of writing, it just did not come for me. Some days I felt like I lost my mind and other days just my muse.

I am okay, there has been no crisis, just life. J has been my saving grace. He, as always, has been loving, patient and understanding. He always seems to know when to push me and when to just hold me.

I have for a long time been a private person (I know that is a strange admission for a sex blogger). I tend to hold things in, work through things on my own and God forbid I should cry in front of anyone (except for J). So, several times I have begun to write, trying to either explain or ignore what I have been feeling, but I have not been able to do it. My mind has also betrayed me at times, my concentration has been poor, a result of some crazy hormones and stress. There are days I feel like the girl in the picture, other days I wish I were her. Alone, far away, solitary. I have alternately cursed and craved the solitude. I suppose that is misleading, I don't necessarily want solitude, I want to escape, with J, and go far away.

I know you cannot run away from life, so I trudge along and make the best of it. My life is not bad, but I am beginning to bow under the weight of others' responsibilities. I am an enabler, or at least a solver, and as of this moment, I am tired of raising other people's children, solving their problems and paying their bills. I know the easy answer is to just say no. I am getting better at that, but it isn't always easy. I guess the bottom line is I am tired.

My intention for this post is not to whine and moan, but to offer an explanation for my absence. However, I am back. I am going to do my best to post here regularly. I owe it to myself and I owe it to J.


Image found on Deviantart.net
Silence by Donjuki