Accepting the Darkness Within

That pesky drafts folder was piling up again...

For me, one of the beautiful things about D/s is being accepted for the darkness.
He loves the light and shine.
And the darkness.

Having someone peer into the darkest depths of your being, then continue to love and accept all that you are is...Freeing.

I have fantasies that he pried out of me word by painful word. And I was so sure that afterwards he would look at me like something nasty on the bottom of his boot, but he never has.
The closest that he ever came was a raised eyebrow and a shake of the head, followed by a smile and the statement, "My twisted little kitten."

For me, a big part of the D/s journey is about accepting my darker desires. Not necessarily having them come true, but accepting that I have them and that they are a part of me.
And accepting that I am not allowed to keep them locked up in my own mind, but must share them with him has been a large piece of that.
In all honesty, it is clearly something I still struggle with.

A great part of any acceptance I have gained lies in Alpha's acceptance, and the knowledge that any fantasy which becomes a reality does so only at his behest.

Our world is a complex web of opposites which cannot exist without each other. Where those lines intersect are the grey areas I have so much trouble with.
But without darkness, there can be no light.
And sometimes there is such a purity in the darkest moments, that the light becomes blinding.

I have found freedom in being owned. The freedom to acknowledge my darkness, and accept any forms it takes, because the direction it goes in is ultimately of his choosing.

No matter how twisted the desire, or how dark the fantasy, it is okay.
Because he will love and accept me anyways.
He chooses which ones come to fruition, and which ones merely rest beside us in the dark hours of night.

I think that one of the things which contributes to the sense of depth in D/s relationships, is that there is no hiding the darkness away and pretending that it isn't there.
The darkness is pulled out and inspected by the eyes whose opinions matter most. Then it is played with or quietly put away forever to remain where it belongs--a construct of the mind.

Yet either way, in shining light on the darkness, we are accepted for everything that we are.

To Serve and Submit With Grace

To serve and submit with grace...It's something I strive for. Not physical grace so much as the grace that comes with acceptance and yielding without struggle.
I am um, somewhat challenged in the area of physical grace.

My musings have led me to believe that surrender is perhaps my ultimate form of grace.

The word grace has many connotations.
I need Alpha's grace.
I desire to submit gracefully.
Some might say that by the grace of the Gods we are given life.

Grace is pleasing.
Grace is delicious.
Grace is even beauty in things which can be, on the surface, unattractive.
Grace is an approach, a state of mind and a form of delivery.
Grace is that moment when trying to submit turns into surrender, and the attempt itself vanishes into a state of being.

Oh yes, grace is lovely.

And sometimes I wonder if he sees and feels the grace I strive for, or if it vanishes somewhere between my mind and my delivery.
Or perhaps I never realize my deepest moments of grace because they come in those times when my surrender is so complete that I have no comprehension of anything besides him...

I yearn to submit with grace.
Very much as I yearn to live in his good graces.

Submission, Slavery, and Other Ramblings

After my whole little identity crisis a while back, I did what any codependent normal woman would do--I asked Alpha what I am.
See, I get one question after sex. Not having asked any for a while, I tried to claim that I had some banked up but he said I didn't get roll-over minutes lol.
His response was exactly what I thought it would be (with a couple of added bonuses). He said "Mine. You are a glorious amazing creature. And you are mine."

I think that submission is often about choosing to submit. Slavery is...No longer making that choice quite as often perhaps? Which, in theory, would make it a bit simpler...Though I do have every confidence in my ability to make anything complicated.
Every submissive becomes at least a little bit enslaved, every slave submits. So the lines are perhaps not extremely clear. Nor are they necessarily incredibly important except for assisting in personal definitions I suppose.

I see myself as property. I have rights--I accept the rights I am given. Not always gracefully, but I do accept them.
There are aspects of my life that he displays no interest in controlling. He governs other areas with an iron fist. And I have learned to accept that I don't choose those areas--to do so would not be submitting. That acceptance however, doesn't mean that I don't ever struggle with it (I think my last post highlights that quite blindingly lol).

I don't have my own limits (no need for the whole "what if he decides to cut off your leg?!" spiel), I have his limits. Chopping off limbs is among them, just in case anyone wanted to push the issue lol.

We often are, or become, what we see ourselves to be. Sometimes we become what others see us to be because we allow their image of us to overshadow our own.

Alpha used to tell me that I existed to be his slave. And that bothered me a lot. Because surely, there should be more meaning to my existence? But I think that I was looking at it through an excessively small window of view.
One single purpose does not negate all others.

He used to tell me that I was his slave. I would gasp and backpedal and deny it until I was blue in the face.
But that was before I realized that, for me, the foundation of D/s lies in his definitions of it. Within his definition of what I am.

If he says that I am his submissive, I am. If he says that I am his slave, I am.
Ultimately, what matters most is that, in both forms of speech, I am His. And we both know it.

The Problem Comes Not in the Asking, But in the Receiving

Several months ago, I put in a request for more control.
As is his way, he pretty much ignored the request and set in on some back burner in his mind where he lets things simmer until I go to stir the pot again and get burnt.

The other morning, he said, "I should start making you get up an hour early every morning to make me coffee and suck my cock until I cum down your throat. After all, you wanted more control."

*Ack!* (I know that's not really a word, but it's the best one I could invent to sum up what went through my mind).

I am so not a morning person (just in case no one noticed).
I don't want to give up that first cup of coffee. I don't want to suck on anything besides that coffee. And really, I just want to grumble my way through the first daylight hour in relative peace.

This post isn't increasing my chances of winning that "Submissive of the year" award is it?
Sigh.
Maybe next year?

You can ask, and you might even receive. But what you get won't necessarily come in the form of whatever preconceived notion you had about the results of your request.
I know that.
But I really thought my ideas were better. I still like them more lol.
I do know though...

So what does one do when they are faced with getting what they asked for in a form they don't want? I'm thinking desperately hope that it takes a different form than the aforementioned one, and perhaps gaze longingly at that first cup of coffee and suck up other things.

Very Inspiring Bloggers

It's no secret that I'm big on the concept of inspiration, so when Ward and June, and HisLilAngel, kindly nominated me for TheVery Inspiring Blogger Award, I was quite happy to play.
I am honored. Thank you.

The Rules:
1. Display the award logo on your blog.
2. Link back to the person who nominated you.
3. Nominate fifteen other bloggers for this award and link to them.
4. Notify those bloggers of the nomination and the awards requirements.
I'm pretty sure that there's a fifth rule saying to list seven things about yourself...

As usual, I'm going to do it a little bit differently. Come on now, you didn't really expect me to play by all of the rules did you?

It seems fair to aim for 14 things about me...So I'll do 14 things about Alpha/us (just a teensy bending of the rules right?). Seriously though, is there really anything that's not here already?

1. Alpha refuses to accept any semblance of a midlife crisis from me on the grounds that he's older. Totally unfair right?
2. He has a mistress--her name is online chess. However does one kill something like that?
3. He won't go clothes shopping with me, which I find highly stressful because no matter how hard I try, there's always something that he doesn't like.
4. I hate eggs, and we get an average of sixteen fresh eggs a day.
5. I can crochet but have never been able to follow a pattern because I simply don't understand them. Honestly, I would prefer knitting because when else would I be allowed to use sharp pointy objects for fun? Alas, I lack the necessary coordination to wield two items at once.
6. I cried when my college math teacher died--he called me "Girl scout", threatened to throw erasers at me, taught me concepts that I never previously thought I could grasp, and claimed that in his entire teaching career, (which spanned decades) he had never had a student who tried so hard and got wonderful grades but was so completely inept at basic math.
7. Alpha has no problem turning his head to watch a beautiful woman go by.
8. I am not-so-secretly afraid that Alpha will lose interest in me as time goes by.
9. Spring is my favorite time of year--winter is too cold, fall means that winter is coming, and summer is too hot. Fickle? Who, me??
10. Alpha will give anyone a second chance and it drives me nuts--I say just ditch 'em the first time. Well...I say other things too, but I try to keep my murderous musings somewhat private. For the most part anyways.
11. For our third anniversary, my father gave us a book about Kama Sutra and a bed to practice in.
12. After nearly thirty years of life, I'm still not comfortable with my sexuality (or lack thereof).
13. My ideal birthday party, (for anyone) is one that doesn't require me cooking.
14. Having grown up without it, I think that indoor plumbing is the best invention everrrr. Oh yea, and I stared at this last one for 10 minutes before coming up with something lol.

I'm pretty sure most of these are already here somewhere...What can I say, there's only so many things one can say about oneself before repetition sets in.

I usually bow out of nominating people, because it's inevitable that someone will get left out, then I'll post, and guilt will bite me in the ass. But I'm going to bite the bullet this time lol.

In no particular order...

What Does it Mean to be Dominant
Sir J always makes me think, and has often expressed concepts that have helped me adjust my view in a positive manner. I enjoy and respect his views on Dominance and submission
What I Wonder
Greengirl has this crazy habit of writing the things in my brain that I can't make sense of. She is both humble and insightful in a lovely way.
A Reluctant Bitch
Jz has had me running off to Google words more than anyone else I have ever known, and she has an amazing way of putting a humorous spin on even the most depth-filled concepts.
Pain's Pleasure
Tori has a realistic approach and always manages to get the cogs turning in my head.
Be Pleasing Always
Unfortunately, I discovered Cat shortly after her passing. But I have been trolling through her blog, and she was a truly inspiring human being with a beautiful and honest approach to ttwd.
Down the Rabbit hole
Because Master's piece has a wicked sense of humor, and spewing coffee all over your keyboard while laughing is inspiring right?
Kitty the Submissive Wife
I often leave Kitty's blog musing about her topic of the day.
Aimless Ramblings
Sunnygirl is funny, thoughtful, and incredibly kind.
Finding my submission
Sin is intelligent and honest about her struggles, which I like in a land where anyone can decide to project whatever image they want.
Faerie Learns to fly
Faerie's writing has gone a long way towards showing me that it is not necessary to let one's past dictate their future.
The House of Shadows
Though he rarely updates, Shadow has an interesting and no-nonsense take on ttwd.
L'heure Bleue
Blueame always inspires me to ponder things, (I hope you don't mind the linking ame).
The Monkey's Journey
Little Monkey shows a level of honesty with her introspection that I find very respectable.
A Dauntless Journey
Dauntless Vitality writes many thoughtful posts from the Dominant point of view.
And number fifteen...
I shall reserve for the many lovelies who leave thoughtful comments--your comments have made me laugh, think, occasionally tear up, and have inspired me to reach for a deeper understanding of myself and my writing. So thank you all for taking the time to share your thoughts in my crazy little corner of Blogland.

As for notifying everybody...Yea, that's not gonna happen.
Maybe I'm shy, or lazy, or don't want anyone to feel like they have to play along (take your pick).

A Question of Sub-Drop

"I had my first (proper) session with a dom last night. in the past its been just during sex (not even tied up :() . but this was without sex, just teasing and orders. It had me so high! I wish it had lasted longer. I love submitting. but today I'm feeling insecure, low, depressed, anxious... Sub-drop can't come from a more casual first encounter can it? I feel completely out of sorts :(."

I think that sub-drop is a bit different for everyone, and there are lucky people who never seem to experience it at all. But when it happens, it is absolutely no fun.
Sub-drop can be a bit like PMS--it sweeps in and takes over, but it's hard to pinpoint exactly what's wrong. It's just there making you feel crappy, and taking you on an emotional roller-coaster ride that no one wants to be on.

My understanding is that technically, the high comes from a rush of neurochemicals such as dopamine and serotonin. One cannot maintain that high level of those hormones, and when they drop, cortisol and prolactin levels rise, leading to the depressed and "Off" feelings that we call sub-drop.

So yes, I do believe that sub-drop can be a side effect of even the most casual of encounters.

I don't think that it's necessary to just let sub-drop swallow you up though. Everyone has different ways of coping with it depending on their relationships and personal makeup.
When time with the Dominant isn't an option, I would say that the best thing to do about it is be nice to yourself--self aftercare if you will.

Eat chocolate, listen to music you like, take walks in places that make you happy, exercise, read a good book, spend time with friends and family, etc.
Anything that you enjoy and which makes you feel stable and good will help a bit, as will activities, (like exercise) that increase endorphin levels.

I hope this answered your question adequately, and that you start feeling better soon.

The Nature of God

There's a reason I don't talk religion or politics here. It's clearly not because I'm focused and can avoid rambling about random things--I just don't want to see my little corner turned into a debate ground.
So we're going to say that this post has nothing to do with religion, because it doesn't mkay?

When I was 11 or 12 I read a series of books called Conversations with God. In all fairness, I don't have a good recollection of the books. I do remember thinking that the guy who wrote them might be terribly delusional, but I was willing to let that go because some of it made a lot of sense to me.

Two of the things that I do remember are the concept of God being love and existing within all of us as opposed to being an external construct, and that fear, not hate, was the opposite of love.

I found the preposition that fear was the opposite of love to be...Not compatible with my view of hate as being the opposite of love.
I have however, found that love and fear are intrinsically entwined for me.

Opposites are necessary for life as we know it--without dark there is no light, we cannot truly appreciate pleasure if we have never known pain, and perhaps we could never know love if we did not also know fear.

Getting to the moral of the story...

Before falling in love, I had no fear of death. Admittedly, I was young enough not to have a great grasp of the speed with which life passes by. But my knowledge that life was finite didn't bother me. I saw death as merely an inevitable culmination of life.
I still do, and I'm still not terribly afraid of the finality of it in terms of my own life. But the concept of existing without that which I love most? That is very scary to me.

Perhaps God is love, and fear is its opposite.
When we really and truly love, we know the fear of losing that love.
Perhaps without that fear of loss, we could never really know what it is to love beyond ourselves.
Perhaps when we love something beyond ourselves, and we hold fear's hand, we come to another understanding of God.
Because without darkness there is no light.
Without pain there is no pleasure.
Without that which is unclean, we cannot revel in that which is pure.
Without severity we cannot know grace.
And without death, there is no life.

Perhaps the nature of God lies in knowing and experiencing the opposing factors of existence.

I spilled my first cup of coffee this morning. Can you tell?

Heartbeat

You don't see it when we're walking through the store,
you don't hear it when we're chatting with family and friends.
It's not apparent when I'm doing dishes and he's working on the car.
I don't feel it when he's absorbed in his games
and I'm pining for his time.

But it's always there under the surface.
Often so quiet that it's never heard and can be taken for granted
leaving me wondering if it still exists at all.

But it's always there.

A heartbeat.

One very essential and amazing part of the whole.
Often so quiet that it can't be heard, so deep that it can't be seen.
Sometimes so loud as to be all consuming, and its beat pounds through my ears until it is all that I can hear.

Always there
always sustaining.
In every choice and in every decision.

A heartbeat.
Our D/s.

Often hard to hear over the chaos of daily life, it's steady and strong.
Occasionally rising to the surface and drowning out all other sounds.

It's like when I lay my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. Every time, there's a moment when I know that the sound of his life is my life. My whole life. Wrapped up in one quiet beat.
I can't hear his heart beat as we bicker about who drank all the coffee, or when he grabs me by the throat and shoves me up against the fridge, or when he runs his hands through my hair.
But his heartbeat is always there.
Shaping and sustaining my life.

In a way, our D/s is very much like that--a heartbeat you don't always hear, but which shapes your days and sustains your life.
It isn't often seen as we move through our daily lives. But we can see it in our veins, feel it's movement in our blood, hear it quietly in our ears.

Our D/s is a heartbeat with it's own rhythm and strength.

Some things you shouldn't do...

Waves at everyone who commented on the last post* I haven't forgotten you. I just have a chiropractic appointment at the crack of dawn...Yay!

I have decided that hibernation is a valid option for avoiding January completely. In fact, I think that we should pass a motion or something and make it mandatory.

There are some things you just shouldn't do--break up with somebody via text, kick dogs, run over small animals for fun, oh yea--and you really shouldn't fire somebody via text.

I got fired by text and didn't even know it because the text made it to my phone a week and a half after it was sent.
Did I mention that I don't text? And that I've never been fired? And that not knowing why is driving me batty?

Oh yes, I propose mandatory hibernation for the month of January.
It'll be great!

Nice?

The missed chiropractic appointment has caught up to me. It's back to vicious neck pain and searing headaches every day until Monday (this is just background whining, I swear).

Alpha cornered me in the kitchen and grabbed the back of my head, giving me the distinct impression that his greatest desire in the moment was to yank my head back and take a bite out of my jugular.
He proceeded to glare at me and say, "How come the times I really want to be 'nice' to you are when you're annoyingly incapacitated?"

Umm...
"It's not my fault that I'm cranky when my head hurts! You could be 'nice' when it doesn't hurt..."

He growled and wandered off in search of smaller and, (as far as I'm concerned) more deserving prey.

That's all I've got. Except that the little guy and I somehow now magically have the head and chest cold the big kid had.
And now I'm off to make lemon cake at six AM because it's my mom's birthday and she likes to ask for lemon meringue cake, which is the only cake I know that has to be made the day you eat it.
On the bright side, we won't get her sick! lol. She's already sick.

January is not nice.
Though I did hear a rumor that temperatures were supposed to rise above freezing this week! Oh wait...That was last week. Next week maybe?
Not a nice month at all lol.

Parenthood is Overrated...

A few days ago, I would have said that parenting is hell because the kids were giving me hell. Constantly. And my mother seems to think that one night a year is a reasonable reprieve.

The night before last? I would have told you that parenthood is hell because there's nothing else that can make a person worry the way that kids can.

I'm spoiled--my kids are, for the most part, ridiculously healthy. Especially the little one. He's got the immune system of a friggin dragon or something.
Which is why I was quite surprised to be woken up at midnight by him crying bloody murder because his head hurt, and had a fever of 104.
He proceeded to freak me out even more by taking a drastic trip away from coherence and deciding to start laughing nonsensically in the middle of crying.

I spent about an hour on sleep. Come the morning, I had to cancel my chiropractic appointment (something my body is quite unhappy with), and haul the little guy to urgent care.
Interestingly, in the way that kids do what they do, he actually looked alive as soon as we walked through the door. They sent us home with no clue because he had a notable lack of any other symptoms besides fever. So we hope that it quits reoccurring before Wednesday.

Yep, parenting is definitely fifty shades of hell.

Yielding to Realization

I have this teensy-weensy problem...
I equate yielding with quitting, giving up, throwing in the towel, lying down on the battlefield and dying, etc. You get the picture.
To many medieval books as a child or something lol.

While the tendency to hang on with bleeding fingernails and never give up, works pretty good on a chessboard, and has served me fairly well in life, it's not a great recipe for submission.
Real shocker right?

Something interesting happened when I made a conscious decision to yield. There was no immediate and obvious change in our relationship. There was a noticeable lack of fireworks and incredible displays of power exchange.
But...
There were also a notable lack of battles of will.

Alpha always said that he wanted my will to be his. That Dominance and submission meant nothing without free will. Specifically, my free will and the fact that I would offer it to him of my own accord. Not in token form, not in the way of "If I give this, then I will get that," but in the form of yielding all with a complete willingness with the desire to be nothing more or less than his.
The surrender of a strong will being far more of a conquest than anything taken in duress.

There were no fireworks, no earth shattering shakes of the foundation.
But I felt...Different.
And I realized that I would be willing to go as far as he would take us.
I realized that I was far more willing to go to extremes than I wanted to admit to him or myself.
I realized that I had become malleable, and craved the molding process.
I realized that submission led to yielding, and surrender was a product of that process.
And I realized that it felt good. It felt...Right.

I began to wonder if my willingness and occasional overwhelming need to swim in the deep end, made me a nightmare or a wet dream for him.
Truth be told, I think he's still trying to decide which one.

I surrendered my free will to him. Ultimately, that means yielding to however he chooses to use it, whether that's just a little, or quite a lot.
Though, I hate to think of the possibility of a perfectly good and stubborn will not being used to it's full potential...

Question: First session with Dom?

I got a question...

"I've arranged to have my first session, with my first dom. I'm scared and excited. I see him as a friend, someone I trust and feel safe around. But I can't understand why I'm so nervous. Will he care if I'm insecure? Will he care about my looks? Is it safe? Is there anything I should worried about in terms of my dom? Please share if you recollect your first experiences"
                                                 Anonymous

My first experience was with my husband after we had been together for a number of years, so I don't think it is really applicable to your situation.

My personal opinion is that what you should be worried about is very situation dependent. Like how well you know, the Dominant. If it's a passing familiarity, I think that it would be a good idea to set yourself up with a safe call just in case anything goes wrong.
I would also recommend having some negotiation about limits, what is acceptable, and what you are both looking for before you play.

Is it safe? I don't know. I can't answer that question for you, but the fact that you asked it makes me think that you haven't met face to face, and a safecall would be a very important safeguard to put into place. Make sure that person knows where you are, and let them know if your location changes.
But ultimately, you have to use your better judgement--If you have never met face to face before, meet in public. If it feels wrong--don't have the session.

Will he care about your looks? As long as you haven't portrayed yourself as something you're not, I doubt it is going to rank very high up on the list of importance. I have been called beautiful with eyeliner smeared to high heaven and tears rolling down my face lol.
I think that the vulnerability and submission is often ranked far higher than looks in these situations. For me, it is very much about the rawness that happens when superficial things become inconsequential.

I don't know if your insecurity will bother him. My first response would be, don't worry about your insecurities, the worry makes them worse.
I know that for a fact because insecurity is one thing I have down to a science.

I think the question about whether or not you should worry is really dependent on your situation and how well you know the Dom.
If you are friends and have known each other for a while, I would just try to go with it and not weigh yourself down with unnecessary concerns.

Having never been in a situation similar to yours, and not having had my morning coffee yet,  I'm not sure that this advice was very helpful...But I noticed the question was aging, and wanted to get to it before you had your session.

Show--Don't Tell

I don't have time to fight with Blogger before going to work, but I wanted to thank everyone who left such sweet comments on my last post--I appreciate your kind thoughts.

I had what I'm pretty sure was the most amazing sex of my life last night and I have no idea why...I mean, I felt it in my toes until I went to sleep. My toes!

But I'm not here to talk about that this morning. Maybe I'm still processing, or maybe my thoughts are needing to leave in the order received lol.

One of the things that all my English teachers preached, (besides that I have a consistent problem with comas) was show--don't tell.
One of the written words biggest drawbacks is also one of it's greatest beauties--you use just the right amount of description for the reader to form their own images. You don't "tell" until you are blue in the face. You "show", and the reader creates the rest in their own minds.

I don't think one can tell their Master they're ready for more. It has to be shown. Especially me. I tell him lots of things lol. And I'm usually right. Until it comes to me--my track record there isn't nearly as good.

I can't tell him I want more and balk at a simple command.
I can't tell him I'm ready to go deeper, then quiver when I look down.
My behavior and actions have to show that my words are more than ill-conceived thoughts.

He will do whatever he wants with me, whenever he wants to. It's how our dynamic works. But it only works well when I accept and surrender to that fact.

I have come to the conclusion that I need to do a lot less telling, and far more showing.

Did I mention that there was mind blowing sex last night?

Blogger and Other Bitches

For some reason, Blogger is being snarky about my attempts to respond to comments on my blog.
While I'm complaining about Blogger, does anyone have any ideas why I can't add blogs to follow from my dashboard? I mean, I can, but whenever I do, every other blog I follow vanishes until I remove the new one. It's rather irritating...

Oh right, comments...The bed is lovely, and I would probably live in it if I could. Ooh...I could do my reading there...See, I really could live there! If only I was allowed to have coffee in bed...

The first night, I changed my stance on the riding crop--maybe I didn't like it as much as I remembered. Though, by morning, I had reverted to my previous belief that is was my favorite implement.
Alpha says that I'm a fickle creature...I think it's my duty to disagree with that statement.

Anyways...I have been thinking again. Hazardous stuff to be sure.

We are somewhat limited by the reality of having children in the house 24/7, (I love my mother dearly, but I daresay that I would love her a bit more if she showed any interest in taking them both for the night more than once a year).
However, I feel like he doesn't push me. Now I know that doesn't sound so bad, but...

I have a few theories as to why that is. Of course I do. You wouldn't expect anything different here right?

One: He simply isn't interested in pushing things further.
Oh...I don't much like that one...But I have come to understand that a big part of submission is accepting that it will ultimately always take the form he chooses.

Two: He thinks I'm not ready for it and can't handle it.
Hmm, That might very well be true, but I don't think so...

How to phrase number three...
I'm willing to go too far? As in, further than he has interest in going, and therefore he deems it better to stay in the safety zone? That place where it isn't really necessary to actively curtail my activities and desires...

I'm not complaining...Oh fine, maybe a little bit. More correctly perhaps, I don't feel that I have a whole lot of right to complain.
I know that I have been a bit of a brat lately. You know, the kind of brat who's screaming for guidance and control, but doesn't make it easy for someone to exert those things.

Maybe it's because I feel like I have stalled out on growth in many aspects of my life, and I feel like D/s is a realistic area to expand...

Still I wonder...My comfort zone has expanded over the years, and when the comfort zone expands, stepping out of it becomes less and less simplistic, but more and more attractive...

Ooh La La...

We did something irresponsible...And it's awesome.

Anyone who has spent twelve years sleeping on a pillow-top mattress with a large man can tell you--it's great for the first few years. After 12 years? It's lumpy, you roll to the center, and you fold like a tortilla the instant you lie down. There's also this annoying recurrence of waking up feeling far worse than you did when you went to bed.

We bought a king size mattress. And it's awesome. Even if it wasn't the most financially responsible choice to make in mid-winter.
Okay--technically, we slept on the foldout couch last night so I still have no idea how glorious the mattress is. Something stupid in the instructions about letting it re-form for 24 hours...

But I know it's going to be wonderful. Not just the new mattress, but the fact that there's so much space on it! See, Alpha likes to sleep with his elbows out. He has long arms, and I often roll over and give myself a good blow in the side of the head. But now...

And...
The arrival of aforementioned mattress also meant doing some rearranging in the house, an activity that is not often allowed around here. So it's a win win!
In the process of rearranging, I found the riding crop that has been missing in action for months...

Ooh la la...

It is bedtime yet?