Dear Blogger

Dear Blogger,

I know that you have recently been "upgraded". As someone who is currently working very hard to upgrade her body a bit, I know that such things can be difficult. That said, you are really starting to piss me off.

I had never used Google reader, therefor I was not upset by its demise.
I did however, underestimate your finicky nature.
You see, I know for a fact that you are lying when you claim that I am not following any blogs. Indeed, I have been following quite a few for some time now.
My frustration is growing, and I would really appreciate it if you would be kind enough to quit lying, and behave yourself.

Dreaming Frustration

I had hot and bothered dreams again last night. After spending the majority of my life quite comfortably without them, I'm not terribly keen on their sudden appearance...

First I had a dream that I was kissed by someone else. So that one came with a side of guilt, but was somehow still really hot.
Then I had dreams about kneeling on a public sidewalk and sucking Alpha off.
Then...
Then...
*Sigh*

How is a person supposed to concentrate on anything when they wake up thinking about sex and submission and maybe wastes spends a few illicit morning minutes looking at bondage pictures...

Seriously, I am starting to believe that sexual frustration and sub cravings are to blame for all the problems and angst in the world.

I gots it bad...

Meh, I'm gonna go work out, and try to burn off some cravings.

Breathe

He leaned in close, "I'm going to fuck you in the ass."
I squeaked back, "You are?"
It's been a really long time you see, and we all know that the longer it is between such events, the more painful it is.
He leaned in close, fastening his hand firmly in my hair "You know you want it."
"I don't!"
His grip tightened as he got measurably closer and growled, "Don't lie to me."

As he pushed inexorably in, all I could hear was my own whines, his low growl, and his voice whispering softly in my ear, "Breathe."

What is it about that simple command to perform a basic necessity of staying alive, that is such a huge turn on?

He winds his other hand into my hair as his grip on my throat tightens, and slides in deeper, "You are Mine. Breathe."
And so pain turns to pleasure as I breathe him all the way in.

I think that the subject of control over basic functions may deserve a post of its own...

Pinterest and Piercing

I discovered Pinterest. Whoever invented that place must have thought about how they could best compete with U-tube as a productivity killer. I lost hours and didn't even know it.
They have everything! Including cake...With pictures. That's how it gets you you know, all the pictures.

I found something interesting that had nothing to do with cake though:

I find myself with no interest whatsoever in this particular object. Except for the morbid fascination that it is marketed as a beauty product, not some cruel implement of pain infliction.
Seriously! This is what they say about it:
"Microneedle Skin Therapy System Derma Roller with Medical Grade Stainless Steel, For Anti Aging, Wrinkles, Acne, Scars, Hair Loss Treatment, Cellulite Treatment, Stretch Marks..."
Umm...Really?? I showed it to Alpha and he thought I was looking at sadistic toys until I read him the information about it.
Dunno, it might be the best thing since sliced bread, but I don't believe it. I think there's a sadist sitting somewhere laughing his ass off every time one is sold.

In completely unrelated news, we have been discussing piercing of the kind that I have always strenuously objected to, but have now developed an inexplicable fascination with. Specifically, vertical clitoral hood or triangle piercing. No, I didn't make those terms up, and yes, I did my research. Not just because I'm an information junky, but because I rely on my clit for orgasms and I'm not keen on ruining them.
One of the best piercers in the country happens to be a few hours away, so if my anatomy is cooperatively formed, there's a possibility...

I occasionally doubt my own sanity.

Nothing Really...

So it's that time of the month again...

"Pre" is definitely not a fitting prefix for something that occurs for the entire week...

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Well technically, I woke up in the middle of the bed, after sleeping horribly.
I think it was kind of my own fault though...I somehow ended up spending yesterday researching various piercings for the female nether-regions, (bet ya didn't think I could sound so pure) which somehow led to me dreaming about it and fiddling with myself all night. That then led to me waking up seriously frustrated.

Yep, I have absolutely nothing of value to contribute to the world today.
Except for cake. And this small public service message. Written by someone else.

Respect and Disdain

Been thinking too much again...

Respect and disdain are not mutually exclusive.

Alpha's respect for me does not negate his ability to be degrading and disdainful. Though it does, no doubt, make him put extra consideration into his choices. A fact which I am quite grateful for--some things are necessary for a relationship's long term survival.
I think that the success of these seemingly contradictory approaches is largely dependent on him knowing which buttons to push, and when.

That's part of the beauty of the whole arrangement--he can humiliate and respect me, he can value my thoughts and completely ignore my opinions, he can be attentive or completely disdainful. 
In the opposing duality that is D/s, all these feelings and actions can be accommodated, and exist side by side.

In all honesty, there are times when he is cold and distant, showing no consideration for my thoughts and feelings, and it turns me on to no end. Even when I hate it...There's something about that totally controlled and distant manner, that I find quite hot.
But I digress, as usual...

The thing is, no matter how "badly" he treats me, he still accepts and respects me. And I can accept anything he decides to do because I respect and trust him.
I think that the knowledge that one still has value after de-valuing experiences, is what makes it possible for those experiences to be positive.

I think that I have wandered from my original thought and probably shouldn't write late at night...

Just because there is mutual respect, does not mean that the range of possibility is restricted to the pure and sweet. In fact, I rather think that it makes the realm of possibility for exploring darker pleasures even greater.
My respect for him enables me to surrender in ways that I otherwise could not. His respect for me ensures that the things he chooses to do are not harmful to me or our relationship.

Yes, I think too much every night when I should be asleep.

My brain looks something like this:

Just add a million more words, and some stuff to trip over...

Ranty Rant Rant

I have another rant. Though this one is far less interesting. Promise.

My mother has been quite fortunate in her life. Her father set her up very well and made sure that she would never want or need. She has been poor before, but always by choice (if you knew my dad, you would know what could possibly prompt such a choice).
She received a very sizable inheritance when I was 15, and blew it all well before I turned 25. Announcing loudly along the way that such was her intention, and I would never see a penny, but I would eventually inherit the property and the house as long as I didn't push her off a cliff.
I didn't mind, I figured it was her money and she could do whatever the hell she wanted with it. Though it would have been nice if she had thought ahead a bit more for her own future.

My mother is strange about money, and still hasn't realized that I am altogether unimpressed by money or possessions. Seriously, on paper I have nothing except for two children and a stack of medical bills.
I could really care less what someone owns, and how much they do or do not have--I care about how one conducts themselves as a human being.
I don't want to struggle and starve (what lunatic does), but overall, I am really not that attached to money and possessions.

Anyways...
She had a bit of a health scare, and has decided that she wants to sell all kinds of stuff "for [her] benefit". A fact that she informed me of yesterday as I was getting into the car to leave. We aren't talking about crap like grandma's china either--think vehicles, stoves, my dad's pool table (which would seriously mean the world to my eldest. He spent the first years of his life on that table with his grandfather), possibly the house, you get the picture--important shit.

Now, I was a very low maintenance child. I moved out when I was 14, and over the course of my lifetime, I have only asked my mother for one thing--please don't sell everything.
I have never even asked her for the things my father gave away before he died (the truck he left to Alpha, that she has tried to sell numerous times comes to mind).

Every single time I object to her selling everything off, she acts like I don't care about her quality of life, and I just want what she has. It's an attitude I have no idea how to respond to, because in those moments, it seems like she doesn't know me at all. Of all the uncomplimentary things I may consider myself to be on any given day, greedy is one that has never made the list.

I'm so tempted to tell her whatever, sell it all. But when she blows through the money like water and has nothing, who's responsible for taking care of her? Last time I checked, that was the drawback to being an only child.

Don't get me wrong, I do love my mother immensely. Besides Alpha and the boys, she is the only family I have, and most days, we are great friends. But there are days when she makes me wanna trip her at the top of the stairs.

The "Good" Dominant

I don't spend a whole lot of writing time talking about what I think makes a good Dominant. Mostly because this is about me and my whining submission, and I don't believe that it's my job to tell him how to do his. However, I read a couple of Tumbler posts that really made me think about "Good" Dominance.
Tumbler does not allow endless comments (damn them for that), and since it's really not my place to rant about the anonymous idiots who comment on another person's blog, here I am.

How exactly do people form the concept that to be Dominant means to have no respect for those they Dominate? Given the phrasing, I am going to go out on a very short limb and conclude that in a "few years" these particular men have gone through a number of "subs". I wonder why they never stopped to think that maybe their attitude is why they seem to be going through subs so fast...?

If you want a submissive to respect you, give her something to respect.
If you want her to do as she's told, give her a reason.
If you want to keep a submissive, you have to give her a reason to stay.
If you want her submission, inspire it!
If you want her respect, give her something to respect. If you have to constantly "Enforce" her respect, that's not really respect--that's fear.

I think that what really bothers me, is the notion that you can force someone to respect you.
Respect is a positive emotion. Respect is holding someone in high regard because they have shown themselves worthy, respect is a positive feeling of esteem for another human being.
You cannot buy it.
You cannot trade it.
You cannot force someone to feel it.
You earn it.
And, much like trust, respect is much easier lost than gained.

Force has it's place in all D/s relationships, but if it is constantly necessary, is that really D/s?

If you always have to force her to submit, if you can never be gentle for fear she will gain the upper hand, if you believe that she is not worthy of your respect and acceptance, then you aren't really a Dominant.
You're just an asshole with a superiority complex.

In fact, if a "dom" is so afraid of losing control of his sub that he has to be an asshole about it all of the time, then he doesn't have enough faith in himself, self control, or personal fortitude, to Dominate an ant.

That's not to say Dominants are never assholes. Everyone has their days. But D/s is consensual--nobody has to stay and put up with that shit every day.

Alpha wants my respect
he wants me on my knees
he wants me to please
he wants me to obey
he wants my willingness to do anything for him.

Those are not desires that can be fulfilled with force.

He behaves in a way that has earned my respect
he makes it so that I want nothing more than to be on my knees
he inspires my desire to please him
he controls in a manner that makes me want to obey
I am willing to do anything for him because he has done everything for me.
I am his because he accepts all that I am.

My Husband Let A Stripper Molest Me, the Conclusion

Everybody was really okay with being left hanging?!

Anyways, where was I? Oh yes, glowing uncomfortably.

We found seats towards the back, and he ordered us coffee and a margarita. Caffeine for him, alcohol for me. It's probably a good thing that a snail couldn't have gotten buzzed off that drink, 'cuz I may have later gone against his advice and asked one of the girls with fake boobs if she still had sensation in them...

Alpha is never satisfied with halfway. It's pretty much all out, or nothing at all (I don't know anyone else like that, nope).
So...Not only did I have to get a lap dance, I had to ask for it. But, I'm getting ahead of myself again.

One of my first realizations made me really happy. It's probably going to sound quite silly, but do you know how awesome it was to realize that I could still be a stripper??
Fine, laugh--it's okay.
There were a few with perfect bodies (I exaggerate not), but overall, they were surprisingly human.
Putting aside the logistics of hanging upside down by the ankles, I could totally fit in lol.

Ahem,
anyways...

There was one, she had a quirky kind of pretty, and the words "Beautiful Mistake" tattooed on her leg. I asked her for my dance.
Why did no one tell me that strippers can do whatever they want to you??
It was a bit of a shock to find her starting at my neck and working her way down. And really, some warning that they can spread your legs and shove your dress up even further than it already is before breathing all over your twat, might have been nice! Okay, so maybe the warning wouldn't have helped. Still though...Did I mention that she smelled really nice and it took me two showers to stop smelling like a stripper?

Then we moved up by one of the stages, and stayed there for the rest of our time.

I'm gonna make a couple of observations here:
Jealousy factor is directly related to how I view other women. If I see them as equal or lesser to how I see myself, I'm not jealous. If I see them as perfection? I feel differently. Naturally he got a lap dance from one of the perfect ones...She was even his preferred height (which makes me look like an amazon). I thought it was very nice of him to later say that he didn't think she'd look as good as me after having 2 kids though lol. But I digress, as usual...
Men visiting strip clubs are not comfortable making eye contact with women who aren't stripping.
While I don't think that anyone can fault the girls who are planning tomorrow's grocery list while they dance, I do think that if you're going to do it, you might as well make as much as you can, and plotting your shopping in obvious boredom is probably not the best way to do so.
And did I already say how much I love being married to a man who can get totally turned on having a perfect naked woman rubbing all over him, then carry on a conversation about the potential scarring of a life of stripping and the human ramifications for the girls themselves?

So the first place was a blast. I admit it--I am not the prude I like to think I am, and I really did enjoy the environment where sexy was not only okay, but encouraged. And yes, the socially conscious part of me was rather happy to read all of the information on human trafficking that was plastered across the bathroom walls.

Around 1:30 AM (way past my bedtime), we ended up at strip club number 2. The first one was topless only (not that much is left to the imagination in a thong), and the second one was full nude.

I got thrown off my game before even making it in the door.
We were standing in line, with me slightly behind Alpha. He usually gets a fair amount of attention from big security guards because he's their size and they don't want any trouble from him. He was talking to the door guy when a sleazy little man sidled up to me and announced that I would be going in with him, and he'd get me in free. Now, if I had been a slightly different person, I might have taken him up on his offer and then just told him to fuck off when we got inside.
As is, I declined and glued myself to my husband.

The second club would not have been worth the door cover on a normal day. Really. The dancers were a bit too much on the younger side, I had a better body than most of them and probably equal dancing skills, lap dances were outrageous, and the floor was sticky.
But that night, they were featuring a woman who was not one of their a regular dancers.
Now, I don't find the whole pole thing a turn on, but I do find it impressive. Anyone who can do the splits along the side of a pole while hanging upside down ten feet in the air and holding on with their friggin elbows has major skills that I will never master. Turns out, it was worth the cover charge. And yes, I gave her extra points because I liked the duct tape across her mouth, the collar, and the cuffs--made me feel right at home.
She was good though. Really good. Think Circue Du Soleil meets naked woman with perfect body.
Seriously, how does one make the career move from Circue Du Soleil to stripper...?

All in all, a very interesting night.
Thing is, I like sexy.
I like being sexy.
And yes, I am a major like attention whore.
Honestly, I just never could quite figure out how to tone down sexy, so I turned it off.
But I think that sexy will be making a comeback around here.
I also think that my wardrobe is woefully lacking in high heels.
And if there was a pole in my bedroom, I would damn well learn how to use it. Minus the splits and that upside down shit--you have to admit, a wife who can cook is much sexier than one with a broken neck.

Though I do think that I could pull off a pretty good lap dance...Practice makes perfect right?

My Husband Let A Stripper Molest Me

Uh huh, my darling master and protector let a stripper...But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Friday did not begin auspiciously. Events occurred which irritated Alpha, I allowed his irritation to irk me, and so it went until I suggested canceling our trip. It was a suggestion to which he was not amenable, so we went despite the irritations.

Then after a very nice dinner, and shortly before our foray to the strip club, I had a huge realization that I'm an idiot.
Those who point and laugh will no longer be welcomed in for free coffee...

The issue for me wasn't really jealousy.
Nothing had much to do with having a problem watching naked women crawl all over my husband.
Oh no.
The issue was me.
Walking into a strip club. And being extremely uncomfortable about doing so.
It was about him watching me squirm in discomfort while a naked woman crawled all over me.
Then squirm some more when I had to deal with the way I that ended up feeling about the whole thing.

And the whole lead up to this night?

He knew! 

All along, while deciding whether or not to go, and me thinking I have worked through all the wrong shit my shit, he was weighing whether or not I could even walk in the building, how I was going to cope, and how enjoyable it might be to watch me squirm.
And how much more enjoyable watching my discomfort at liking it would be.

He said that he had considered making me wear a skimpy dress, but thought better of it because it might be a bit much for me.
Whatdya know, lil miss delusional had already provided one. In my defense, it looked longer before I put my ass in it. As much of my ass as would fit anyways (turns out that wasn't a whole lot if I had to bend. At all).

As he watched my sudden and disconcerting encounter with the pink elephant previously unknown only to me, he laughed. And he smirked. And developed that decidedly predatory glint that fill me with anticipation and the sense that I should probably run.

I followed him into the dimly lit strip club squirming painfully, and wishing that I was invisible.

Turns out, that black, grey, and white striped dress, that was too short for comfort?
Glowed.
Oh yes--it was practically made to shine under black-light like a beacon shines out to the fucking sea.
I was half naked,
uncomfortable,
and very,
very
glow in the dark.

The Importance of Good Grades

I was generally hated in college because of my obsession with good grades. Think ocd chipmunk who would rather die than not collect all the nuts.
Yea...Group projects were the bane of my existence.
But, from a somewhat different perspective...

See, I knew grades were important!

The Day that Wouldn't Quit

Yesterday was the day that just wouldn't friggin quit.

We got up at 4:30 AM...
Something about feeling as if we lived in the Sahara Desert because it stopped raining a couple of years ago, made us think that we didn't have to replace our roof this year. Yea, sleeping with a drip on the bed is somewhat distracting.

I thought there was great promise to rising so early though! Morning sex, workout, breakfast, run to the bank, run to town and do errands, be home by noon, make calls, have cake, curd, and icing made, and be kicking back with my feet up by 2:00.
Yea...

Forty-five minutes at the bank, errands that took ridiculously long, home to make calls at precisely 1:00, you know--the moment everyone is gone to lunch. Made curd, made calls.
Ended up leaving for a completely different town for more errands and test results...Apparently, the symptoms I originally went for are still unexplained, but I do have the lumbar spine of an arthritic woman twice my age. Break out the party hats lol.
Got home at 8:30 and had cake done by 10:00. I really thought that I would have slept better last night...

But, not only is today a new day, it's my favorite day--Alpha's birthday. In fact, I am so enamored with his birthday, that I almost have him convinced that getting older is a good thing. I may have done so by pointing out that it means you're not dead, but that's just semantics, right?

We will be celebrating at home with steak tampiquena, a crab cream sauce and baked potatoes. Desert is the infamous 3 sticks of butter carrot cake with orange curd, chocolate ganache, and cream cheese icing.
I'm going to be working all that off until his birthday rolls around again...

Then Friday is our night out (said with trepidation and anticipation).

Oh yes, his birthday is my very favorite day, because even though my existence began years later, this is the date my life was born.

Evolution, Limits, and Butterflies

In the context of a committed relationship especially, all limits are those of the Dominant. It took me years to adapt to that perspective, but it has really simplified a lot of things for me.

I think it's natural to want to have, what we perceive as our limits, pushed. We want to expand, evolve, experience new and previously unreached heights, go further down the rabbit hole.
Because really,

And it's beautiful isn't it, that feeling of nerves when your stomach turns into butterflies, and all you know about what's coming next is that it isn't up to you.
Oh hell, it's not just beautiful, it's glorious and amazing--kind of like jumping off a cliff and not being crushed by the landing. Even if just for a moment, you can fly.

Sometimes we want them to push "Our" limits. And it doesn't happen. And sometimes I we pout. The thing is, they aren't our limits to push. So it's one of those things that's not actually up to us.

Our comfort zone however, why can't we push that? There's really no reason, unless our Dominant objects. Except that we like our comfort zone, so we want to stay there in our cozy little place, where everything is as we want it to be, where the pillows are soft, and the weather is temperate.

But do we really expand and grow there?I don't think so. It's kind of like living a completely sedentary life--you gotta get up and do something, or things will eventually begin to atrophy.

Where am I going with this? Dunno really, except that the strip club idea was, besides being something that  Alpha might really enjoy, a way of pushing my comfort zone, while showing him that I am striving and growing as a submissive. Or, in all honesty, not growing as much as I like to think. I do have a notoriously jealous constitution...

The thing is, I have been feeling...Different. Like something finally clicked. Yes, seven (?) years in. Slow learner here.
Still though, I have found that there is joy in being a good girl, not for reward, but for the knowledge of having pleased; that there is incomparable pleasure in surrender, because it is an ultimate goal of submission; that submission is defined by Dominance, and is not about what I think it should be, but about what he desires; and that to know that one has pleased can be its own reward.

Not really sure this post makes a whole lot of sense...I was seriously distracted by the vote chess game--the world against world chess champion Anand. I am suspicious whenever the world agrees with me. I rather think we are losing...

Sigh, I Couldn't Do It On My Own

The longer we live D/s, the more I realize how incredibly huge the changes in our relationship, and myself, are.
It's odd because I feel like we are, in the grand scheme of things, pretty tame. Looking closely, I think that it has all just kind of been absorbed into life. It's...Normal.

In the beginning, there was this horrible, "Need more, more, more, need it all, gimme my fixxxxxxx" feeling (on my part anyways. He felt that snail travel was preferable). It's kinda like cigarettes, (except that I can't have those) occasionally, I feel that craving, but it's not a constant overwhelming need. So much is just...How we live now.

I think I had a point when I started this post...Oh yes, I am disappointed in myself.

Alpha's birthday is coming up, and more years together don't make presents easier. So I decided that we would go do something fun with the money I had saved up. I asked him if I could plan his birthday, and he doubtfully agreed.
The minute complications started to arise, my determination wavered. I began to get ridiculously stressed out. And I started to wonder...

See, I don't go anywhere without talking to him first. No plans are made without his approval, and well, I just don't leave the damn yard without talking to him about it first.

I began to doubt. And wonder. I mean, what if he would prefer spending his birthday at the hot springs instead of a strip club? Because, well, he's complicated sometimes.
And things were not coming together smoothly. Mainly arrangements for the kids and our lodging for the night.
So I confessed.
That I needed his help. And for some reason, I simply could not plan and execute a trip out of the valley. For him. Without him. And I needed him to decide what he wanted to do. So that he could tell me what we were going to do.
I was actually rather sad about my confession. Because I wanted it to be a surprise. And it's not like I ws trying to plan a complicated trip to the moon or something.

Judging from his reaction to my strip club proposal, it's probably a good thing that I did confess my scheming though. He said it was a lot to take in coming from me. If he had a heart condition, surprise might have done him in.

He's still musing about his options after coming up with one more than I had thought of. I'm still trying to make arrangements for the kids and wondering about lodging (wherever we end up going). So not a damn things has been figured out or resolved. And the date is creeping up alarmingly fast.
But I'm not stressing about it (much) anymore because the decision is his (seriously, it was getting to me like you wouldn't believe).

The thing is, I feel like the whole thing illustrates a major weakness on my part. I am disappointed in myself for seemingly being unable to do something so simple without his approval/help/deciding/whatever/etc.
And I apologized. Because, while he wants my deference, my obedience, my submission, my surrender, he also wants the capable woman I have always thought myself to be.

His reaction to my confession and apology was both irritating, and reassuring. It was pretty much along the lines of:

Shrug
chuckle
I told you so
it's okay
a strip club huh
I have to think about that one.

Dunno how the man can be so damn irritating and make all right with the world in the same breath...

Basic Principles

Been thinking again, so I got another ADD post here. I think....

From my observations, to one extent or another, submissives all experience that need to be conquered. You know, the whole "Throw me on the floor, pull my hair, grab me by the throat, put me in my place" feeling.

It can be way too much of a good thing though, that desire for him to "make" us do what he wants.

Don't get me wrong, for me, being made to do things can be a bit like receiving affection--I love it. It has it's place.

The thing is, one simply cannot sustain a power exchange relationship based constantly upon that mode of interaction.
If you want him to tell you what to do, then you have to do as you are told. Yep, simple and often overlooked truth there.

I see a lot of subs digging in and fighting against what they want--they want to do what he tells them, but they also want him to make them do it. I'll raise my hand as guilty of that one. Very guilty in fact.

I propose a blasphemous truth--this whole D/s thing works a lot better if you just do as you are told. Sure it's hot to be made to do things, sure he should have the follow through to see that you do them, and yes we all have that desire to be conquered; however, this whole concept rests on the premise that you want and need to submit.
You cannot tell a man you want him to Dominate you, and then proceed to dispute his decisions and make him fight for your obedience every step of the way. Well, you can, but it's not sustainable.

Being a submissive is very much about needing to submit. If you don't want and/or need to do it? Then don't.

As difficult as it can be, and as complicated as we can make it, I think the basic principles of D/s, from a submissive standpoint, are quite simple:

If you want him to lead, follow.
If you want him to Dominate, submit.
If you want him to feed your needs, tell him what they are. And feed his.
If you want him to command, obey.
If you want him to take it seriously, don't try to play games.
If you want him to be in control, don't attempt to manipulate him into doing what you want.
If you want him to be be pleased, be pleasing.
And for goodness sake, if you want him to get into your head? Be truthful.
Here's the thing, he will never ever get inside your head like you want, if you can't give him pure honesty.
In any relationship, little "White" lies are like blocks--they build up slowly up each one at a time until walls are created. Bigger lies are like bigger blocks, creating stronger walls at a faster pace.
Having a power exchange relationship is about taking those walls down, and not adding more blocks to them.

I honestly believe that if you do not give him your truth, you cannot give him your trust. And if he doesn't have your trust, he will never be able to Dominate you beyond the superficial.

Anyone who has read here for any amount of time is aware that personal experience has taught me it's not nearly this cut and dry as "Just obey" all of the time. Because, well, being human is...Complicated. We have feelings, emotions, thoughts, physical complications, children, jobs, etc.

Still though...Despite all of those things, the basic principles remain.

Body and Mind

Physically, I have had an extremely unpleasant week. Given my mind's propensity to be doing the opposite of whatever my body is feeling, it's been a little...Odd.

While my body is finding new and unpleasant ways of betrayal, and doctors are trying new (to me) and unpleasant ways of discovering the cause of said betrayal, my mind has been having submissive breakthroughs, new and exciting thoughts about how D/s works, comfortable concepts about being a good girl, etc.
You get the picture--body and mind, as usual, are refusing to play nicely.

I think that after years of doing ttwd, things change. I know where he lines are, and am no longer interested in sticking my toe over them to get a reaction. Excluding those times when we are playing around anyways. What can I say, he's easily bored--can't have that now, can we? Complete acquiescence at all times is not something he finds interesting.

I have jury selection in a couple of hours, and that is seriously distracting my thought process.

Alpha's birthday is coming up very soon, and as usual I have the most wonderful of intentions...And absolutely no good ideas to back them up. More time together does not make these things easier. Thanks to him, I had an awesome birthday this year, and it's stressing me out that I can't seem to come up with a way to return the favor.

Oh...I have been staring at this for way too long. Best be finding something decent to wear. Cross  your fingers that they will find me to be unsuitable juror material.
My husband seems to think I have some kind of moral character that would make me a great juror...Such traitorous talk would be strictly prohibited if I was in charge around here!

Do Bad Things to Me

"Don't be mean to me!"

"You like it when I'm mean to you!"

"Umm no, I do not! I like it when you do bad things to me."

Breathe You In

I want to breathe you in

every day

as if it were my last

as if each  moment was just the start

a beautiful adventure of the heart.

You are my everything

my life

my reason for being

the force behind my existence.

You own all that I am

and everything that I have

you deny, or permit me 

each step

you choose to allow my next breath.

At night

when I rest my forehead against your back

feeling the smooth skin against my face

I breathe in your heartbeat

and float on your breath.

I want nothing more

than to be yours

for the whole of every existence

throughout eternity

over

and over again

until the end of time

because I exist to be yours

to hear your voice whispering in my mind,

"Mine".

Their Words Remain

Sometimes people disappear from Blogland and we never know why or where they went. Sometimes we find blogs that have been abandoned mid-sentence, and we wonder what happened to the Blogger.

Then there are those blogs, the ones that make you cry, even when you find them after the fact--the blogs whose owners have passed away.
Those are the blogs where a loved one has posted a final farewell. And so we wander through, sometimes strangers, sometimes fortunate to have interacted with the blogger before their passing.

It is kind of a beautiful thing though, how these words remain, like a gift to the world, a present to the curious and lost who come after, searching for their own way. A jewel in this vast ocean of ideas.

And so we are grateful to those who have passed away, for their kindness in leaving something of themselves behind. And we do not forget those who remain--the ones they loved.

This year has taken some lovely people from Blogland.

In grateful memory of
Bas of New Life in DD. In his time here, he made me laugh and cry.
Cat of Be pleasing, always. I never interacted with her, yet I cried after I discovered her, mere days after her passing.

Corrupted

Not long ago, I discovered ebooks. And while I still have no intention of abandoning my precious "real" books, only the insane thumb their noses at free books.
Score one for the dark side.

Then I discovered online chess. Now, to be very clear, I have hated it for some time--it is Alpha's addiction you see. And being the attention whore that I am, I have a problem with hobbies which suck him in.
But then he showed me that you can play games where you have three days to make each move. Do you know what that means?! That means I can think about each move for hours. I can run through endless scenarios on how the game could play out. Then I can think some more!
Sigh.
Score two for the dark side.

Now I'm having dreams about being Dominated. New thing for me. So I wake up feeling all submissive, which is unusual because mornings are that time when he loosens the leash a bit so no one dies before coffee.
Very odd...
The world may not be the place I thought it was.

Score:
Dark side: 3
lil's convictions: 0

Possible Consequences of Theoretical Events

Since I had nothing better to do, I was thinking about a decision which I may or may not have to make, and which may or may not be optional.
Okay, maybe there was something better to do, but since I'm crawling my way voraciously out of the pit of death (otherwise known as the common flu, for those of you lacking a proper sense of drama), I get a little leeway.
Anyways, I'm wandering away from my point--I was thinking about possible consequences of this theoretical event. Not the kind of consequences that reasonable people consider, oh no. Because, as Alpha says, my mind never, "shuts the fuck up".
I was pondering what would happen to my already challenged libido. As in the possibility of it disappearing completely. Forever.
And how he loves me, and I am, to him overall, irreplaceable.

As somebody who gives him the sexual pleasure he needs; however, I am not irreplaceable.
There is only so much in the sexual arena that he is willing to take despite my dislike.
Because he wants me to want it.
But should I be unable to provide for those needs, eventually, he will feed them elsewhere.

When one begins to consider their replace-ability, you realize that there is merit to being owned for a long period of time.
Because isn't that one of the issues that sometimes arises when you have been married for ages, that there is always someone younger and prettier, someone newer, someone different, someone who wants the same things and has the same sexual needs to fill?

Yet

she doesn't know the things I know
she doesn't know exactly how he likes his coffee
or when he takes his showers
she doesn't know what food he detests
or how he likes his back rubbed
she doesn't know what he likes to do
or what he finds attractive
she doesn't know the habits he finds intolerable
or what he finds pleasing.

Those things, and so much more, are learned over time.
They are accumulated in every interaction
every correction
every "Good girl"
every argument, and every agreement.
Knowledge of each other is amassed slowly over time
the slave is made
molded
taught, and observed.
Perhaps the submissive is born, but the slave is created.

As such, she can be remade
as a possession, she can be replaced
but the time that has been spent on her is not comparable to the monetary value an object can assume
and as such
that time cannot be replaced.

The slave may be a possession, but she is not inanimate
she is unique
with desires
wants
and needs.

Time has been spent on her creation
years have been paid for her tuition
the title of slave can name her identity
but it cannot hold the sum of her humanity
and so, as a whole, she may become irreplaceable.

But, if he wants more, there's nothing to say that she will always remain the only one.

The Real Reason I Don't Like the Dentist

Because everybody always wonders why people don't like the dentist, right?

I really, really don't like going to the dentist.
Oh, I know that nobody looks forward to it with joyous anticipation.
And that's the one doctor I'm not actually planning on seeing anytime soon.

My reasoning is not because I am afraid of needles (though who doesn't hate the person who shoves a needle into the roof of their mouth? You know you want to hit 'em).
It's not the pain or the inevitable announcement that I'll need fillings.

Oh no,

it's because he puts his hands in my mouth.

Seriously.

I know it probably sounds ridiculous, and maybe it is. Just a little.

It doesn't bother me because I don't like having things in my mouth, quite the contrary actually.

It bothers me because Alpha almost always puts his hands in my mouth when we are having sex.
And I inevitably begin to salivate immediately
everything gets wet
I become that wanton
bucking
begging
needy
whore.
Almost instantly.

And every time the dentist puts his hands in my mouth
I think about that moment.
And that makes me extremely uncomfortable.

Oh yes, I do not like the dentist.
Though I can think of much more reasonable reasons not to...

The Lovely and the Not so Lovely

I admit to feeling exceptionally lazy. I may or may not get around to the comments on my last post.

Our anniversary was lovely. It was the first time we have had 2 whole nights alone together in 5 years. Totally awesome.
Our anniversary pretty much covers most of our big relationship steps--it was the day we met, the day we got married, the day he gave me my first collar (yes, I have gone through a couple, what can I say--leather+forgetful+showering is a bad combination). This year, it also marked having been together for half of my lifetime.
Not bad, if I do say so myself.

Unfortunately, the little one brought home the bug from hell, to which our eldest and I both succumbed. Did I mention I caught it on the first day of my menses? Then I proceeded to wait an hour and a half after my appointment time in the Doctor's office for an unrelated appointment.

Today however, I am human again!
It is unfortunate that said humanity is disappearing into severe irritation at the medical system and my insurance--Is it really asking that much to get important tests done this century? I have to admit, that whole not worrying thing? Yea, went right out the window lol.

Okay, bitching always makes me feel a bit better, so moving on...

I have been having strange and unusual dreams lately. Well, strange and unusual for me anyways--I just don't dream sex and submission. I didn't used to anyways...
They are leaving me with a sense of frustration that I am rather unfamiliar with, and that are totally incompatible with my body's current approach to life.
I want to be made to crawl and beg
to be grabbed by the throat and thrown up against the wall
to be pissed all over and fucked senseless
to be taken to the edge and thrown over...

I'm starting to realize that my writing is reflecting the fact that I haven't really consumed anything in the last 2 days besides the cup of coffee I am currently finishing.
Wonder if this is what it feels like to be a snail on meth. With cramps.
I had better go do the dishes and limit my interactions with the world lol.