well, Mr. Right proposed, and I said, "yes." I knew the proposal was coming before Christmas, just didn't know when. the wedding will be in July.
We've done our sharing of loving, laughing, spanking, and lots of sex. We've been sick together, miserable together, happy together, and suffered depression, and Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) together. We had only 2 times when we were at odds, and it lasted only a few minutes. We talked through it all, and knew all the while that it was due to our fatigue, our SAD, and our aches & pains.
I've never been so =content, so peaceful, so happy. He truly is my Prince Charming - my Mr Right. And, now? It's forever.
I have seasonal affective disorder - SAD. so, in the autumn and winter, I feel horrible - depressed, moody, and lots of pain. and because I understand the Law of Attraction, and recognize how it works, when I'm down and sad, things around me do not go well, or break, or stop working. my laptop died. my sleep number bed broke. my daughter's laptop keyboard now has a broken "f" key because I was trying to remove a piece of paper stuck under it, and the plastic key cover came off and I can't get it back on.
and a judge completely ignored what I'd filed with the court (an emergency motion including physical abuse of a 12 year old by his 16 year old brother including bruises due to choking), and ordered the child back to his father. I was devastated. and to compound misery, my daughter also has SAD and has been yelling at me. plus my mom had a colonoscopy where they removed a polyp and we're waiting on results. oh yea, and Mr. Right's sick too.
could I be anymore of an "Eeyore" right now?
Air Force graduation was very good and very bad. my son graduated with honors which means you must rank in the top ten percent in all categories. But, you must also be nominated by your instructor for honors. I was SO proud, and my son looked wonderful. The bad part? My ex was there with his girlfriend who is a complete jerk, and my kids hate her, particularly my son. And my ex's parents, the ones who broke up my marriage, were there as well. I finally had a mini-hissy fit when they ran off and left me, my daughter, Mr Right & my mother wondering where they had gone, and where they were. plus, it went from 90 degrees to 60 degrees with rain, and more rain. The hotel had water standing in the hall ways. But, my son was happy to see us, and that was wonderful.
Neither of us have felt well at the same time for spanking since our return from the Air Force graduation. Although he and I both know we both could use the release, we agree that it wouldn't be prudent when I'm hurting, and he's not rested enough to monitor me closely.
The one very bright shining time in all this woe and misery? Mr. Right took me shopping for engagement and wedding rings this past weekend!!! The joke is that he's deciding how expensive I am before he decides to propose. LOL! Seriously, we had a great time looking at rings, as neither of us had ever done that before. And he was thrilled & surprised that I had no clue he was going to take me to look at rings. Although we were exhausted by the time we arrived home (it's 1.5 hours one way to a shopping mall), we had a great time learning more about our likes and how well we each work together to understand and respect our different opinions.
Hi all. Super busy. Super tired. Super happy. Laptop died. Another trial Friday & starting to write an appeal. Be back to write more soon. Weekend trip to Air Force graduation was wonderful. Mr Right bought me a formal collar that I can wear with my suits. Doesn't cover the hickey bite marks though. *grins*
It's pouring rain outside. I want to be snuggled under the covers with Mr Right while the rain splatters on the concrete under the window. but, instead, I'm on the couch writing this instead of getting ready for work.
Mr Right and I had a wonderful trip to the beach, and are getting ready to leave again for my son's Air Force basic training graduation on Wednesday.
And, we continue to get closer, and the bond becomes stronger between us every day. we've talked of marriage, of planning a wedding, and combining our households. but, it's not official. no proposal, but I'm told it's coming. I'm so excited that I could run screaming down the street, "He loves me! He loves me!! He loves me!!!" and I don't run. Ever. *laughs*
To top it all off? To make things even better? We had anal sex on Saturday night. Our first time together. I love anal sex. It's an amazing, intimate experience that I've shared with two people before Mr Right. He had anal sex before, but it wasn't memorable, because his partners weren't really into it. So, together, for us, it was incredibly intimate, and built an even stronger level of trust between us.
Anal sex, for me, requires lots of lube, lots of deep breathing, and lots of focus on relaxation. I have always controlled the initial penetration because I didn't trust my partner not to hurt me. I've always sat on my partner's lap, facing him, knees bent, my thighs outside his, and simply lowered myself onto his cock. I couldn't manage that this time, so I let Mr Right penetrate me, first from behind, and then I was on my back, legs raised, as he pushed inside me. He was so very gentle, and tender, and was thrilled that I trusted him so completely.
When it was apparent he wasn't going to cum that way, and my body was aching from fatigue, we stopped, and just rested in each other's arms. The only time I ever felt closer to a human being was when my children were born, and again, as they were so tiny, and held onto me for love and comfort. It was one of those moments that I will carry with me for a lifetime - the realization that I belong, that I matter, and that someone has penetrated my internal walls, and he will not abuse the trust I have placed in him.
With Mr Right, there are no doubts, no nagging fears, no wishes that this or that were different. I don't remember feeling like this about anyone before. Yes, I've been head over heels in love, or so I thought. But even then, there were things about my love interest that I dreaded, or disliked, or thought I wanted to, or could, change.
This time, those fears, or nagging worries, or dislikes don't exist. And, trust me, I've looked for them, and poured through my thoughts, and impressions, and memories to find any red flags I've overlooked or ignored. There are none.
Life is good. I'm happy. I'm in love. I'm lovable. I'm loved. Life is good.
Image by Johnny Stiletto via FlickrNews like this makes me CRAZY!!
Mon Oct 5, 9:07 pm ET - from the Associated Press
ALBERTVILLE, Ala. – An Alabama woman has been charged with endangering the welfare of a child after police say she let her daughter ride in a cardboard box on top of their van. Albertville Police spokesman Sgt. Jamie Smith said the 37-year-old woman was arrested Sunday after police received a call about a minivan on a state highway with a child riding on top.
Smith said the woman told police the box was too big to go inside the van, and that her daughter was inside the box to hold it down.
Smith said the mother told officers it was safe because she had the box secured to the van with a clothes hanger.
The 13-year-old daughter wasn't harmed and was turned over to a relative. A jail worker said the mother was out on bond Monday.
from Sue Sylvester on Fox TV hit show Glee: "You know caning has fallen out of fashion in the United States but ask anyone who’s safely walked the immaculate sidewalks of Singapore after winning an international cheerleading competition, and they’ll tell you one thing — caning WORKS! And I think it’s about time we did a little more of it right here. And to all those naysayers out there who say “That’s illegal. You can’t strike children on their bare buttocks with razor-sharp bamboo sticks!” Well to them I say “Yes we CANE!” And that’s how Sue C’s it!"
Did anyone else see this? I love this show, and I laughed my ass off this segment of the show was on national television!!
so it's 3am, and I'm in a beach side hotel watching Mr Right sleep. Things are wonderful. I won another trial last week, and got paid in full immediately afterwards. Yay! My daughter is staying with a friend this week while I'm gone, and my son graduates basic training next week.
I haven't had a maintenance spanking in a few days because of the travel, but I'm actually handling it quite well. There hasn't been a great deal of stress this week because of the mini-vacation, so I've been able to maintain balance without a spanking.
Maintenance spankings work well when I'm under a great deal of stress. Spankings are also part of our foreplay. So, getting a good spanking is like a runner's high for me. They bring all my suppressed emotions to the surface: anger, depression, failure, frustration, regret, exhaustion, confusion and more.
Mr Right knows that when I've been very busy, very focused, and driven to be the best as an attorney, he knows that my little girl inside feels the need to be cared for. She wants to cry but doesn't dare for looking weak. She wants to crawl under the covers, but doesn't dare because there are too many deadlines to meet. Because I strive to be the "perfect little girl," at all times, he knows this is a terrible strain on me.
A good, hard spanking will bring me to tears, forcing me to cry out, as I fight not to let the pain overwhelm me. But, before too many strokes, I've given in to the emotions, let the tears flow, as my cries permeate the air. And, in a short while, the endorphins flood my brain and body, and I'm drifting, "flying" as it were, and typically falling into a dreamy sleepy state. For me, it's like a meditative state, that feeling of not being awake, not yet asleep, just cozy, and comfy, and happy - deliriously happy, as though I'm floating on clouds.
I believe this is why I can't handle spankings for punishment. It's too confusing for me to separate the punishment/guilt/disappointment from a spanking that can also transport me to a most relaxed state, or sexually stimulate me, and bring me such heightened sexual pleasure.
If spanking is associated with punishment, all those other benefits are lost. This is why the worst punishment for me is giving me a "time out." That action makes it clear that I have lost sight of what is best for our relationship, and need to figure out how to make US a priority again.
So, I'm off to read about what all my friends are up to in our corner of blogworld. Bottoms Up!!
The picture is from endart.com. check it out here. let's give a big "cheer" for spankings!
Mr Right bought a paddle because he has bruised his hand a few times while spanking me. I have such mixed feelings about spankings. Don't get me wrong: they turn me on. but they also hurt like the Dickens!!
the best thing about spankings from Mr Right is that he understands how confusing it is to me to mix the pleasure spanking and punishment. once, before we decided to take "time out," he spanked me after I teased him, and caught him off-guard with my teasing. He spanked me for teasing him, but he was playing with me, and yet getting turned on at the same time. When he stopped, we were both very confused and conflicted. neither of us were sure if it was punishment or play because it felt like both, yet neither of us liked feeling so confused. So, we decided then, and there, that either of us would call a "time out," to clear the air, and spankings were only for fun.
yet, just to make sure, Mr Right asked me about role-play spankings. He wants very much for me to play the naughty school girl, cheerleader actually, who gets reprimanded by the delightfully sadistic professor who fantasizes about spanking his female students. I told him that since it wasn't really punishment for me, but role playing for us both, this would not confuse me, but should turn me on immensely. Of course, I'll do my best to share these details once we play out his fantasy. and, I'm glad he asked me about this. It shows me that he's concerned with my well-being, and WANTS me to be both happy and content in our relationship.
so, I have maintenance spankings, as well as spankings for pure sexual stimulation. well, actually any spanking provides sexual stimulation as I become very wet from being struck across my bottom. it's whether or not my mind follows willingly. when I'm stressed out, a good spanking can relieve the tension I create throughout my body. And, depending on the rhythm and "thud" delivered during a spanking, I can go into subspace, or "fly" quite easily. and, yet, stinging blows across my upper thighs where they meet my behind, and when his hand hits my pussy lips, cause me to tense up, to cry out, and wish I could stop the pain. Because I have fibromyalgia, Mr Right wants me to have a safe word, to let him know if I cannot tolerate the pain. There are days when the slightest touch is excruciating
and what's your thought on a "safe word" for spankings? can you trust the spankee enough not to abuse the word? does it take away control from the spanker? but, if there is no safe word, what happens if the spankee could be harmed mentally by the spanking? how would the spanker know otherwise?
Image via WikipediaMr Right & I talk about everything. He reads all the blogs I follow, and we discuss the ideas presented, as well as my responses to those blogs. And, we've talked about slavery, and his role in our relationship, whether he is Master, Owner, Dominant, or HOH.
Once upon a time, I considered myself a slave. I did this because I wanted the release of responsibility, to not have to think after a long hard day at work. but I didn't have a man who was mentally and emotionally strong enough to dominate me, and capable of handling the responsibility needed to control and satisfy me. I needed an emotional rock, a man who was completely responsible for running his own life, for having a career, and running his own household without me.
The two men I chose before I met Mr Right were not sufficiently competent at meeting those requisites I mentioned. and, truth be told, my career and my duty as a parent is such that I cannot be a slave, and give up all my rights. I respect my own accomplishments far too much to allow another to take credit for or ignore what it took for me to be where I am today. I am no longer satisfied or interested in being property.
as for my submission, this, too, varies on a daily basis. I know, in my heart, I always have the right to say "no" to Mr Right. and, I know that most times, and most days, I never want to say "no" to Mr. Right. But, here's the kicker: he KNOWS this! and he knows that if I do say "no" it's because I really, really, don't feel well, because as I've said before, I like having sex when I'm sick. and, because Mr Mr Right believes in the idea that he may hurt me but will never "harm" me, he knows that if I'm turning down the chance at sex, it's because my fibro is acting up, and I'll tell him as much.
Mr Right only has two rules for me: I must not be unfaithful, and I must not lie to him. These are fairly straightforward easy rules to follow. My rules (yes, I have rules, too) are that he will be faithful, that he will never hit me in anger, and that he will never lie to me. Everything else simply will be handled as it comes up.
We both agree that we will never play mindgames with each other. We may role-play, or tease each other, but if one or both of us ever questions the other's pov, or get his/her feelings hurt, we immediately call a "time out" to talk about it - NOW. Otherwise, the rule is that things we say and do as they reference each other are said in love, and are to tease and play. Basically, we want our lives together to be filled with love, and lust, and to have fun, to enjoy each other. We want each other to be deliriously happy, and satiated by our life together.
I believe that our relationship, if it must be labeled and/or defined, falls somewhere in the midst of D/s, Taken in Hand, and Domestic Discipline. We are committed to each other, and to US. Our relationship is an US, a WE kinda thing. And there's no real label for that anywhere that I've found. I guess you could call it "haute couture," or a private designer label. yeah, that's a fitting label for US. It's OUR relationship, and it works for US.
There is no removing of a collar, although I mentally have one, with plans to find a real one, and a bracelet for him. Why a bracelet for him? Because he realizes that he is bound to me by holding the chain that hangs around my neck. He wants something to wear that allows me to realize he, too, honors our commitment. And when it comes time to acknowledge our relationship and commitment in the 'nilla world, there will be rings, and no removal of those, except to sleep and take a shower, or for safety reasons. There is no release, other than that from orgasms.
If one of our rules noted above are broken, even then, there is no guarantee or agreement that our relationship ends. We have made a lifetime commitment to each other. And, we chose to make that commitment. We see this type of commitment like we are family of choice, but family nonetheless, that you don't simply release because it's permanent. And, trust me, with knowing all the people we do who have divorced, being divorced myself, and being a divorce lawyer, Mr Right and I take this type of commitment VERY seriously. it IS binding, and carries with it great responsibility and effort, and with untold rewards far greater than we could ever imagine.
So, knowing all this, we both think we are so extremely lucky that we've each found a partner who understands US. After all these years of his being single, or for me, being in unsatisfying relationships, and my being told that there is no one out there for me, we both feel so blessed to have found each other. seriously, finding the One who knows, accepts, and enjoys your kinks, who knows accepts and loves you, exactly as you are, who yearns to know more about you, who wants to grow and expand together, and who wants nothing more than your happiness? Even lottery winners and celebrities don't have it this good!
What satiates you? This was a post that I've pondered a while.
I'm satiated when I have multiple g-spot orgasms, combined with clitoral orgasms, and I ejaculate, my juices "gushing out" over myself and Mr Right, pooling on the sheets, drenching us both in cum.
Really good mexican food, combined with a small frozen strawberry margarita
Really good hot wings with blue cheese dressing, and a really cold glass of water with lemon
Olive Garden Black Tie Mousse Cheesecake
curled up on the couch, reading a good paranormal fiction novel, in front of the roaring fireplace, while it snows outside, and I'm munching on Gardettos rye chips, and drinking Diet Mt Dew
lying on the beach, drinking pina coladas, while the sum warms my well-oiled body, and my loved one is next to me, smiling at me, while we talk about the great sex we just had up in our room.
walking a horse through the forest, listening to the hooves crunch on the underbrush
listening to the ocean surf
listening to it rain while I'm snuggled in bed, talking a nap
sitting on the couch, watching and listening to my daughter tell me about her day, and how happy she is
hugging, and kissing, and making love to Mr Right
on my knees kneeling as I take Mr Right's cock into my mouth, and inhale his scent as his presence and love touches my heart and soul
What satiates you?
since I've visited the blogosphere, and checked in with my blog friends. so many things happen here in blogland, in such a short period of time. hearts are hurt, new acquaintances made, bonds are broken, trust mended, and feelings pour out over the posts like maple syrup drizzled over french toast.
I promised myself I'd get to bed early tonight, because I've not been getting much sleep due to spending lots of play time with Mr Right. but, since I haven't been online much, I just had so many blogs to read, and reply posts to make, and here it is way after my bed time, and I still haven't posted anything to my own blog.
so, I'm hoping all of you have a wonderful weekend. I, for one, had a long, hard week, with two more long hard weeks ahead.
the good news? Mr Right have made plans to spend a weekend on the beach together, after I meet with my potential national, actually, international, not-for-profit client. YES!! I mean, yes, it's great about the client, but even better than I'm getting some real adult time with Mr Right on the BEACH!! I love the ocean as does he. and this will be our first trip together. can you say, "wonderful?" I thought you could.
oh, yes, and let's not forget: the weekend after that my son will be graduating from Air Force basic training. this will be another weekend with Mr Right and my family. two trips in a row! WOO HOO!!
this weekend, I hope to post about what wonderful things Mr Right and I have learned about each other in the last seven days. more about dominance, submission, spankings, and gluten-free cooking....
so, I was put in "time out" because, mentally, I don't handle punishment spankings well. Five minutes I was sitting on the couch, in the dark, instructed to think about how I could better remember his instructions in the future. While I was sitting there, I realized I would have preferred the spanking. *smiles*
little did I know that while I was sitting on the couch in the dark, Mr Right was giving himself a "time out" as well. He was lying in the dark, on his bed, thinking of ways to he can ensure that I follow his instructions. Because he knows I'm very busy, and I would never forget an order or instruction intentionally, he thought of ways that HE, as the Dominant and Leader, could help me stay focused on him, on me, and, most importantly, on us.
He came to get me, and to bring me to his bed, and into his arms. He explained how this was a mutual "time out" as he explained that he has a responsibility to help me remember these things, as he knows how busy my work life is, and how easy it is to forget such things when I've been in court, and am ethically bound by my law license to be focused on what is best for my clients. So, he will use our private blog to remind me of those instructions until they become habit, much like my thinking of him and us for five minutes every other hour throughout my day.
I was blown away by his insight, his understanding, and his commitment to us. He doesn't want me to fail, or to struggle, or to become frustrated, when it comes to my thoughts about him, and about us. He WANTS me to be happy.
He may like playing with me, and watching my struggle against the spankings, or tease me until I laugh when we talk of politics, and our differing opinions of the world at large. but, all in all, he WANTS me to be happy, to smile when I think of him and us, to grin foolishly when I remember our intimate moments, to lick my lips in wicked anticipation when I recall his lips on mine, and his hand upon my red and sore behind after a most delicious spanking.
So, I completed all of his instructions on Thursday in a timely manner. I am a very happy, and satisfied woman, well-balanced with the knowledge of how blessed I am to have found a man who clearly understands, respects, and accepts his responsibility as my Dominant and Owner.
God/dess I love this man. How did I ever get so lucky?!
This was a message sent to me by Mr Right on our private blog. He knows that he caresses my very soul when he says, "You're mine. You belong to me." It was so thoughtful that I had to share it. Listen and enjoy.
I wrote this a few months ago, when I was struggling to understand myself and why I was miserable in my LDR. I rediscovered this post on Friday. I, for one, was impressed with my self-analysis. So, I post this for your consideration. This is another long hard look at the mind, heart and soul of cutesypah.
For years, I've been thinking about the difference between codependence and submission: wondering if there WAS a difference, and how to succinctly and concisely explain the cohesion or lack thereof between them. and, ultimately, figure out if I'm a submissive, and a codependent, or simply a codependent who attempts to find her happiness by serving others and ignoring my own needs and wants.
and, in my reading on the site, "Breaking the Cycles" I found these four definitions of codependence in the article, "Codependent Behavior Patterns Are A Choice,"
An emotional, psychological, and behavioral condition that develops as a result of an individual’s prolonged exposure to, and practice of, a set of oppressive rules. –Robert Subby
A set of maladaptive, compulsive behaviors learned by family members to survive in a family experiencing great emotional pain. –The Johnson Institute
A stressful learned behavior associated with an unhealthy focus on the needs of others and/or attempting to take responsibility for the behavior of others.
We begin tolerating abnormal, unhealthy, and inappropriate behaviors. Then we go one step further, we convince ourselves these behaviors are normal.
Only after reading these words for what is likely the hundredth time, I *finally* realized the difference between codependence and submission - responsibility for one's actions, or, in other words, acceptance and choice.
So, I'll be the first to admit it: I likely developed submissive tendencies in order to survive in my home, and keep my parents happy. I was a people pleaser, and performed, on cue, as a small child, reciting the Pledge of Allegiance at two for quarters, and "Twas the Night Before Christmas" at 4 for a dollar. My parents boasted they could take me anywhere, and I always behaved, perfectly. I was the perfect child, unless I spoke out, or acted like a child should, and threw the occasional temper tantrum, for which I was soundly spanked, and sent to my room where I was grounded for the entire day. In essence, I couldn't be the "normal" child without being punished - hence, came my strive for perfectionism.
And, from this, came my need to serve, to ignore my own wants and needs (for I would be punished for them if I voiced them), and to do whatever I could to gain my parents' attention, and perhaps, the occasional kiss on the cheek, or a pat on the head, the consummate display of approval.
so, submission was the only way I knew how to relate, and to get affection. and, when the sexual cravings started, at age 10, and I could look at my father's magazine stash (for at the time he worked for the world's premier porn printer/publisher), I saw women servicing men. Top that off with my reading all the romance novels where strong women are always overcome and taken care of by stronger men, and you have all the makings of a female submissive looking for that "perfect" Dominant who will come to rescue me, give me all the love I didn't have in my childhood, and who will let me grow up big, and strong, and will love me no matter how badly I behave.
Submit is defined by www.dictionary.com as, inter alia, "to yield to another," or "to defer to another's judgment, opinion, decision," or "to present to another for approval, consideration," or "to subject one's self to a kind of treatment or influence."
Now, compare this to the definition above for codependence: a learned behavior in response to stressful situations, with an unhealthy focus on another's needs, and to take responsibility for another's behaviors (note the word "behaviors," rather than "actions." is that important?)
Is this why we don't have Dominants concerned about acting codependently, only submissives? I don't hear Dominants talking about how they are responsible for their submissive's behavior. Yet, I read about submissives, time and again, myself included, talking of their Dominant ignoring them, punishing them, and how the submissive blames herself (I know few male submissives so I focus on what I know) for her Dominant's behavior. In fact, the submissives I read about, talk of how they are "less" submissive because they question their Dominant's behavior, or perhaps, wonder if they are submissive at all, because their Dominant doesn't treat them properly, or doesn't behave in a Domly manner, or Goddess forbid, the Dom claims to "always be right, no matter what."
Now, I am beginning to realize that we choose to submit, and the Dominant chooses to accept our submission. But, if we are really strong, why do we question our submission when he doesn't hold up his end of the bargain, his end of the "power exchange"? Isn't this the definition of codependence - accepting responsibility for his behaviors?
And, do we submit because we wish to give deference, or because we wished to be loved? Or is it true that submissives confuse submission with love? Does sub frenzy pull us over the edge, until we feel bound by our commitment, our agreement and willingness to submit, afraid if we withdraw our consent, that we seal our fate in being known as "less than" a perfect submissive/slave because we couldn't endure or tolerate the situation? isn't that also the definition of codependence - a learned set of maladaptive behavior while adhering to an oppressive set of rules?
I know this is a fine line I'm drawing, but I believe it's necessary, for me, at least, to review and analyze this line drawn in the sand. I need to know whether this is a line I can cross, can live with, or whether this is a wall that will cut me off from myself, or cause me to always ponder and wonder if it's greener on the other side, or whether the line will be, at some point, the line around my neck, hanging me, as a martyr, willing to be victimize myself in order to reach for that elusive relationship of Dominant and submissive that I can never quite reach without killing myself in the process.
Where do we draw the line between healthy interdependence/power exchange and unhealthy codependence/taking responsibility for the other's behavior? Why is it only submissives who seem to blur this line, while so many Dominants seem to ignore this line? What is the difference between saying, "this doesn't work for me," and saying, "He owns me, and I must accept what he gives me, like it or not"?
So where is the line drawn between submissive and doormat? What is the difference between submitting to his whims, and tolerating his neglect and abuse? As the Kind Dom, Pygar, asks, what of training and rules when it amounts to emotional damage? As David from A View From the Top notes that public displays of humiliation force the public to accept one's D/s interactions.
And Sir J notes that submissives are moody and high-maintenance. Really? Really? Or is it that we're trying to find that ever-moving line in the sand, trying to decide if we will cross it, feel comfort from knowing our boundaries, or see it as a line tightening into a noose? What of the thought that Dominants are high-maintenance and moody? is that acceptance on the submissive's part, or tolerance of inappropriate behavior?
What of the gentleman Dominant? What of the Daddy Dom who wishes to support and encourage? What of the submissive who craves objectification, and wants all of her thoughts, and actions to be controlled by another? What of the slave who recognizes that her needs are not met by her Master? Does this truly mean she is not a slave? OR is the reality that the Master who controls her does not understand her needs, and perhaps she would better flourish under the watchful eye, and different perceptions and actions of another Master?
does one's question about getting her/his wants or needs met make her/him less of a submissive/slave? I think not. but many do not agree with me. Ahhh...but this is my blog, not theirs. and this is my perception of me, not theirs.
After six weeks with Mr Right, many of my codependent tendencies have seemingly disappeared. The regular spankings keep me in balance. I do not feel the need to prove my abilities to others, because I receive constant approval, acceptance, love, and guidance from the one who matters most to me: Mr Right. He sees when I'm out of balance, and knows when I need release, long before I do. Yes, I can't see right away what hurts me, as I learned long ago to deny the pain in order to survive, and hence, my tolerance for acceptable pain and unacceptable behavior is quite high. He knows and sees this is not good for me.
All I needed was a constant hand at the small of my back, constant reassurance of his presence, a reminder of his strength, compassion and love, and the knowledge that he will catch me if I fall. I also know that by pressing my back into his hand, he knows that I walk at his pace, and do not wish to separate myself from him. I yield to him. And in turn, my submission strengthens us both, without my codependence getting in the way.
Orgasm control is what he has now. I am to only cum with him. I may play with myself, but I may not cum without him. I've never been one who has understood or accepted orgasm control because to me it meant orgasm denial. Never having dating someone who lived close to me, orgasm control meant days or weeks of waiting to have an orgasm, or having an orgasm only with phone sex. And because my partner was never around, it was easy to cheat or to lie about having or not having orgasms. And, because my partners never were around enough to know if I was lying, I lost respect for them, and for the relationship. a D/s relationship bcame a farce to me. But not anymore. Now, I like the idea of only having orgasms in Mr Right's presence, because then we can enjoy my orgasms together. The way we want to be - together.
life is good here. spanking abounds, and Mr Right keeps showing me more of his sadistic tendencies and Dominant persona each and every day. He and I have spent a lot of quiet time together, too, reading books, sipping coffee, him stroking my hair as I doze beside him on the couch. Who knew I could find my Mr Right and Prince Charming (my name for him in front of his family) right here in my hometown? He and I are still both in awe of the ways that we mesh so beautifully, and easily.
I asked him if he was ever concerned when we first met, if he would be too kinky for me. He said he was concerned, and hoped, that I would be just as kinky. I, too, was extremely worried that my kinks and desires would be too much for a 'nilla like him. Little did we know that we were perfectly matched in our sex drive and desires. It just goes to show that you never know the answer until you ask!
and, kudos to the Discerning Dom for his explanation of "what a dom wants." You can check it out here. It made me smile, and helped me to better understand why Mr Right so loves it when I submit.
because my friend o.g. asked, I'm posting this link. I've always been a blood donor, and an organ donor. When my father died of lung cancer, as a smoker the only part which was viable for donation was his eyes. Considering the fact that I underwent major eye surgery at age 14, as did my brother at 12, and we both benefitted from eye donations, donors are extremely important to us.
Please do your part. It's the least we can do as humans for our fellow humans.
yes, it is very possible to be both. I was thinking of the phrase, "sick & tired," which is where I was but a mere five weeks ago. but "happy & tired" is much more the appropriate definition. I can't imagine being in a better place than where I am in my life right now. ok, maybe if I had enough money to buy my own island, and retire to it with only Mr Right, my daughter, my mother, and staff to care for everyone who came to visit (yes, of course I'd invite YOU, and pick you up in my personal jet), life could be better, but, otherwise, every day is like living my dream come true with Mr Right in my life.
Mr Right & I have spent nearly every day together since we met four weeks ago. He was the one who told me "Happy Anniversary," last night (Tuesday), as it was four weeks ago when I asked him to dinner, and he said "yes." He admitted that before dating me, he never tracked anniversaries, nor did he truly understand the importance of recognizing them. With me, he says anniversaries are important, and have great meaning. He also reminded me that Friday it will be an entire month since our first dinner together. How sweet is that?!
I can't believe it's only been four weeks because it just feels so right being with him. We talk, and walk, and cook, and shop, and sleep together as though we've been together for years. He is just so damned comfortable to me - in body, mind, spirit, ideas, dreams, everthing!
And, for mouse, who hates people who are always happy (giggles - i couldn't resist sweetie), we are really happy all of the time. It's sickening really, like love-sick teenagers, we are! We haven't even had a major disagreement yet. We've talked about a lot of differing opinions, as he's a conservative Republican, and I'm very liberal, and a Taoist to boot (i.e., go with the flow), but we can agree to disagree. We've had our share of deeply emotional discussions, and shed a few tears, but nothing earth-shaking. Oh, we know the disagreements are coming, but we are both amazed that neither of us have found any red flags.
And, considering we are both recovering codependents, who have had difficulty with moderation, (who am I kidding? I HAVE difficulty with moderation!!) we try very hard to keep things in balance, and in perspective.
Having said that, we have had sex every day, or even 2-3 times a day for 24 out of the 29 days we've been together. And, the sex? Amazing, mind-blowing, drench the bed orgasms this man gives me!! I've had more marks on my neck than Dracula's victims! He's given me such intense g-spot orgasms with his hands, and mixing tjat with massive amounts of nipple torture that while I was on my knees, with his fingers stroking my g-spot, my cum was literally running down his arms, and making pools of liquid on the bed. Once he pulled me on top of him, and I slid my cunt over his hard cock, my cum continued to run down his balls, and make an even bigger wet spot under his buttocks.
and the oral sex he wants is heavenly! it's nothing for me to suck on him for 20-30 minutes at a time, building up the saliva so that the spit runs from my mouth, down his balls, where he pushes my head down until my eyes run from choking on him, and I struggle to catch my breath in gasps, my throat sore and burning from his hard thrusts deeper and deeper over the back of my tongue, down my throat, causing me to gag, and swallow, as he moans his pleasure, and calls me his cunt, his pet cumslut, and his fucktoy. Just writing this makes me swollen and wet, wishing he were here to push first his fingers and then his cock deep inside my cunt.
Oh, and let's not forget the spankings where he bruised his hand, and made me fly! I had warned him about my deep subspace, as he had never experienced something like that before. I tried to keep my wits about me enough to tell him that I was going "bye bye" for a little while. He was amazed at the depth of my subspace, and was truly concerned for my well-being, staying with me at all times, kissing my cheek gently, rubbing my hair, and telling me all the while, "I'm right here, baby. You're safe with me. I'm not going to leave you." It was so touching that I cried when I came around, and regained the ability to communicate with him.
He also talked of his realization how important trust was, and how much I trust him, as he noted how easy it would be to mistreat me, and abuse me as I was so vulnerable when I was in subspace. I hugged him tightly, and told him that I did trust him, and was so thankful he appreciated my submission. It was then he told me I was his, and he was mine, and I'd never be submitting to anyone but him ever again. It made my heart leap with joy. so, yes, Vesta, I've got a "live one!" *laughing*
He truly is my Mr Right. I know that I had to experience all the others before him to learn what I wanted and needed in my life. I know that I HAD to learn that my consent is the ultimate truth, and my mental health and well-being are the most important issues. For if I don't take care of me, there will be no one to take care of my daughter.
Oh, yes, speaking of my daughter, she and Mr Right have become even better friends. I asked him to pick up my daughter after school the other day because I was taking my mother out of town to see a doctor. He picked her up, and she asked if she could hang out at his house until her dad came to get her. The two of them watched television, made snacks, and then had a rip-roaring good time picking on me once I arrived at his house. And, then Mr Right met the ex-husband, T, who immediately thought Mr Right was a great guy, especially since our little girl was singing his praises.
And, the business is going great guns! I've tripled my client list, and having more potential clients call every day. pretty soon I'm going to have to hire additional help. Mom & I just aren't going to be able to handle the load alone much longer. Plus I'm still waiting to hear if I'm going to be gaining a national client that would truly "put me on the map." Plus, I still have the option of doing some guest lectures at the community college where Mr Right works, and maybe consider a teaching position there next year.
So, know that I'm still reading all the blogs, thinking of you all, and wishing you all the best life can offer.
And, to my close & personal blog friends (you know who you are), I promise to write very soon.
all is good. Mr Right allows more of his dominance to show every day. More bite marks to cover up - we've still got to figure out where he can bite that gives me as much of a thrill as it does when he bites my neck. Either that, or find a MUCH better concealer! *laughs* I'm head over heels in love, and still no red flags, not even a shade of pink - well, except on my behind, and in my cheeks. *grins*
Another important note: Mr Right has already figured out that I need a really hard spanking when I'm stressed out. Earlier this week, he knew that I was scheduled for a really difficult day, and it was, indeed, stressful. That night, he took me to bed, and spanked me until I cried, and called "yellow." When I asked him why he did that, he said he knew that I needed the release, and that he had to take care of his baby. I had some really nice diclorations of my rear to prove it, and felt them every time I sat down the next door. Needless to say, I'm all smiles, all the time.
My daughter thinks Mr Right is amazing, and said we could move in with him anytime I'm ready. Wait! This is MY kid talking?! OMG!
Oh, and two more things: business is booming, and I just landed a major role in our community's local play. I'm going to be Nancy in "The Women." Woo Hoo!!
Life is very, very good here in Cutesypah's corner of the world. I forgot how much fun it was to be "high" on the chemicals your body creates when you're head over heels in love, and having more sex than you've had since college. Plus, add in all the intoxicating feelings that occur as you define a new D/s relationship, and you've got a two grown adults acting like giggly, love-struck teenagers all over again.
Another spanking session with Mr Right last night left me with some new discoloration on my left side. Previously, it was more pronounced on my right side. Plus, his mouth on my cunt, licking and sucking at my clit until I soaked the bed with my cum, made the spanking all the more pleasurable. Goddess, I'd forgotten what it's like to have a man waiting, willing, and available to have me every time his heart and cock desires. I've once again become the cumslut and fucktoy I have always yearned to be.
Yet, there is so much more to our relationship than just sex, but it does fit the bill nicely. Mr Right commented that I am so much more relaxed, and balanced, since we've begun our journey together. And, yes, my codependency has retreated for now, as there is no drama, and there are no issues nor concerns that I see, or even am trying to ignore, right now. Seriously, I know when I'm ignoring the red flags, and when I'm minimizing, or justifying, or rationalizing someone's behavior. And, I'm just not finding ANYTHING with Mr Right to be concerned about.
This is so wicked good, it's scary!
I just realized something interesting, and something I haven't experienced in a long time: I know I'm falling for Mr Right because many of the things I want to do with him are so vanilla: watching all kinds of movies together, spending the weekend just talking, shopping, cleaning, cooking, and just "being." Oh yes, and all without drama. I haven't felt this way since I decided to get married way back in 1987.
What is it that in your D/s relationship that lets you know THIS is the real thing, and your partnership can stand the test of time?
Sub drop has always been a curious thing to me. Mr. Right, having no previous submissives to play with, doesn't understand it all that much. Hell, I've been actively participating in D/s since 1998 and I STILL don't understand it completely.
Having said that, Mr Right did a magnificent job of spanking me until I cried, and I have the wonderful light bruises to show for it, but a very tender bottom. We had a very, very long talk about "skeletons" in our closets, and the walls we've each built up over the years. I know we touched on some very sensitive subjects, but we each respected the other's position, and agree we are much closer for it.
And, somewhere along the way, I picked up a stomach bug that my mother and my daughter are presently sharing - yuck. So, is it sub drop, or merely the fact that I'm tired, and don't feel good? *shrugs* who knows? all I know is that my stomach swears we're on deck on a ship in the middle of the rolling ocean, and I'm trying to do all I can to keep the nausea at bay.
Or maybe it's because my son arrived at the Air Force base to begin basic training, and called me, but I missed the call. I cried, and Mr. Right held me close, gently rubbing my head, back and shoulders all the while. He really is wonderful.
Meanwhile, I'm trying not to overwhelm Mr. Right with mushy emails telling him how I'm head over heels for him, and in short, doing all I can to keep from begging him not to go away. The good part? He is VERY familiar with codependency, and we are both focused on our recovery, and keeping our hands off each other's issues.
And, I'm waaaay behind reading everyone's blogs. bleh.
Well, I spent the weekend with Mr. Right. That's what I'm calling him for now, until we come up with a better name for him. Personally, I think this name is perfect for him. I'm terrified I'm going to frighten him off because I'm falling for him so quickly. But he assures me that he's never met a woman like me, but I'm everything for which he's been searching.
The weekend was relaxing, and simple. Grilled steaks for lunch when I met his parents and nephew; bacon, eggs, and coffee for breakfast this morning, all cooked by him while I watched. He's already bought "toys," including a leather paddle for spankings. And, orgasms by the boat-loads. I'm in heaven!!!!
seriously, I can't find a single thing wrong with this guy. He's attentive, yet reserved. He's private about his kinks, and requires monogamy. He's very interested in the Taken in Hand because of that. He's reading more and more about Dominance, and is enjoying his ability to control me, with little to no effort. Because he has a life, friends and a career, he's not into micromanaging, but is very happy with the "head of household" concept. He's also very much a "nympho" like me, and in fact, I've met him thrust for thrust (for the most part), and even wore HIM out a time or two. That's funny because he's called me a "cougar" a time or two (he's five years younger), but is thrilled with having a "real woman" in touch with her body and comfortable with her sexuality. And, he's quickly admitting that he does have a sadistic streak when it comes to sex, and he's putting my colors to the test, just to see how much pain this girl can handle.
Best of all? He calls me his, and tells me that he's all mine. In not even two weeks. Hmmmm......the last time I fell this hard this fast, (even without the kink and great sex) I got married, had 2 kids, and stayed 17 years. Gosh, with no concern about kids, plus this time getting great sex, the kinks, the Dominance, and an educated man who backs up his arguments with logic and quotes Supreme Court law to me? I'm addicted, completely head over heels, falling in love, bewitched, twitterpated, and captured, hook, line & sinker.
Oh, and to add to the menu? Tantric sex. Yummy! Did I mention I think he's got that "mischievious little boy," "rugged boy next door" Matthew McConaughey look going? I'm telling you - this man looks at me with that glint in his eye, and I'm ready to peel clothes off, drop to my knees, and serve him any way he wishes.
And, the man spanks me like he's been doing this for years. I don't know what I did to deserve him, but I'm a very happy, very thankful submissive!!
I can't thank everyone enough for your kind words, and your support. This really wasn't as hard on me as I expected. Once I made the break, I realized how miserable I was, and how I was in love with his potential, rather than the reality. Because the reality didn't sit well with me at all. Although I haven't spoken with him, or had any contact with him (and I don't intend to), I want to believe that some part of him did love me, and that some part of him acknowledges the loss.
Having said that, I have been quite lucky to meet a very handsome, popular, well-liked college professor who lives in my hometown, and that nearly all of my friends were dying to set me up with. When we met, the chemisty was instantaneous, and we've already spent a great deal of time together. Great thing is that he is extremely kinky, and loves the "Taken in Hand" concept, as well as has a best friend very involved in BDSM. I just mentioned that I was submissive, and every evening we talk about what he's read that day on the topic, and we share how we think D/s should be incorporated into our relationship.
I have to admit, the very first night we went to dinner, before I even gave him a clue that I was submissive, we were out in the parking lot, and he gave me a hug and kiss goodnight. He said to me, out of the blue, "Now you get home and get some rest like a good girl, and I'll check in with you tomorrow." Talk about nearly swooning!
Plus, he met my adult son and they got along fabulously. My daughter thinks he's great as well, so that's a good thing. And my mom is also impressed with him, which helps a ton. The other great thing? He's never been married, no kids, but is considered a real catch, with his own house, his own life, and his own friends.
so, there you have it. I'm alive, kicking, and actually doing very well. I'm very content seeing someone who lives only 3 miles away, and someone who knows more people in town than I do. Also, it's kinda nice to be the "town couple" right now - kinda like King & Queen of the Prom - everybody wants to shake your hand, and say "congrats" for finding each other.
The new guy and I have yet to come up with a pseudonym for him. I'm going to stick with my pseudonym for now, but I may change it a little later if the new guy thinks it necessary.
hugs to all!!
I'm not one for politics, but I love to read all kinds of news articles. Another abstinence-supporting happily married Christian RightWing Republican was caught sleeping with his 22 year old intern. Republican Rep Paul Stanley of Tennessee was being blackmailed for $10k and went to the police who went public with the story. Check it out here.
So, it got me thinking - is it time for a BDSM poly person to run for office? I mean, at least we're not hypocritical about sex and our love for it. Polygamist Jeff Warren runs FLDS, and only got in trouble because he slept with minors and refused to pay taxes. If someone likes whips & chains, loves everyone (except minors) and pays his/her taxes, we could be on our way to starting our own political party.
Next question: what do we call our political party? the Kinksters? *giggle*
I'm reading through the news, and I'm taken aback by several stories: 1) the Harvard Professor arrested for breaking into his own home after returning from an overseas trip; 2) the officers in Illinois who were sued for taking a stun gun to 4 children; and 3) the argument that health care reform might pay for abortions.
One: anyone who is in their home has a right to break into their own home, but the officers are accused of racial profiling which I consider a disgusting but real habit many officers have, because I've personally witnessed it while on the job.
Two: any officer who would use a stun gun on a child under the age of 16 should be removed from duty, and arrested for child abuse - stun guns are better than a real gun, yes, but they should be used as infrequently as a real gun, and unless a child is armed (which these were not), it's inappropriate and cruel.
Three: first off, I don't have an issue with abortion because I'm pro-choice. Every woman should have the right to terminate a pregnance, imnsho. But, what really irks me is that the people who are arguing against the health care funding as it relates to abortion, commented only on whether President Obama's mother or Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas' mother would have had an abortion? What of all the white policy makers who grew up in poor households? Why does no one mention them and their mothers having abortions? This country is STILL run by white males, and as a female, it makes me crazy!!
So much for tolerance, and the premise put forth on the base of the Statue of Liberty. Although I'm certainly no Walter Cronkite, "that's the way it is," this 21st day of July, 2009.
I always read from hazelden.org, the "Language of Letting Go" written by Melody Beattie. Today's post, for July 14, 2009, started with this quote from "Codependent No More," which is also written by Melody Beattie:
Even if the most important person in your world
rejects you, you are still real and you are still okay.
In my drive to please others, I often forget myself. Things did not go well this weekend. I'm struggling to remember that I am lovable, I am special, and I deserve happiness. I also struggle to remember this quote above - that even if as a submissive, if I do not please the Dominant in my life, his displeasure doesn't make me "less than," or unworthy to be shown or given the same or greater respect, consideration, compassion, honesty, and common courtesies than one would give to a colleague, business associate, or co-worker.
But I was not given those same courtesies or consideration. For Daddy became angry when I was hurting during a scene, as I became cold, and started going into what I can only compare to a state of shock. He wanted to have anal sex, and I was trying to insert a vibrator to stretch myself. But, I couldn't stop shaking, and felt as though I were going to vomit. I asked if I could stop. He became angry, left me in the bedroom, and went to the couch. He didn't check on me, as I took my meds and passed out. He came to bed sometime during the night, as this incident occurred sometime around midnight.
Yet, I'm to be understanding because he didn't feel well, but didn't make that known to me, and then, when I was on my way out the door Sunday evening to pick up my daughter from visitation with her father, Daddy asked me if I would be upset if he left to go home. He was supposed to stay until Monday. I was actually getting into my car, already running 10 minutes late, and he asked me this, in a loud voice across the driveway. I told him I didn't have time to talk about this now. When I got back (it's one hour each way, plus talking time) he was gone.
And I didn't hear from him again until Monday evening, when he left a voicemail message saying he had to go home because he was ill, and the dr confirmed it.
and so I sit, alone, wondering what will become of Daddy & cutesypah. But in the meantime, I say to myself, "I'm lovable. You may not be able to love me the way I need to be loved, but that doesn't make me less lovable, or less ok. I'm great just the way I am."
I posted much of this same remark on Sir J's blog, in response to his most recent post "Rain Rain Go Away." Because my post turned into a rant, which details my very convoluted and crabby state of mind, I decided to post it here.
As a Taoist, I must say that there cannot be sun without rain, dark without light, day without night, good without evil, happiness without sorrow. To every action there is a reaction. Simple, logical and powerful.
And there cannot be a Dominant without a submissive. Yin and Yang.
And, yes, it takes many things for one to be a submissive. I am demanding, and in so being, I understand when something is demanded of me. I expect my directions to be followed, and so, I understand when I am to follow directions. I demand to be respected, and understand when respect is demanded of me.
But, do NOT for a minute interpret my submission as weakness. It takes great strength and resolve for me to submit, and is expected. But, for those of us who are high maintenance, it feels like work, and we wonder if our efforts are appreciated. I can understand how Dominants can feel the same - lots of work to keep us satisfied with sometimes so little appreciation shown for the Dominant's efforts.
It must be balanced, all work and no play makes Jack and Jill fussy, unhappy, and feeling unappreciated.
It's all about balance, and moderation in all things, including moderation.
It's hard to remember to appreciate the sun when it's 100 degrees in the shade, and our electricity bill is through the roof. At the same time, it's hard to appreciate the rain when it's flooded our basement, mold is growing on the walls, and we would die for a moment of sunshine.
Yin and Yang. A delicate balance, not truly appreciated until we crave that which we do not have at our instant disposal. Instant gratification has left us a group of high-maintenance people, left unsatisfied at the first instance of boring or "ho-hum"
But don't tell me what I want to hear, and then be surprised when I ask you to act in line with your words. Don't be surprised when you know I'm a woman of my word, and demand that you be a person your word as well.
And, don't be surprised when I call a "time out" on my submission, and demand to be heard as an equal, as a partner, as a person, as a professional, intelligent, licensed, and at the top of her field.
and don't you DARE question my demand to be heard as a parent, first and foremost, in assuring my young teenage daughter has a happy, stress-free, household, for I've done a DAMN good job of raising her, and I'm not going to stop doing that now because I'm a submissive.
So, I finally admit it: I'm high-maintenance, and I deserve to be treated with kid gloves. I've spent my time in the ring duking it out with my former partners. Now is MY time to be placed on the pedestal.
I like the view.
Check out the interesting discussion on Ownership and Entitlement at Sir J's blog. He was discussing a post at The Thinking Dominant, which asks about ownership and entitlement. In essence, I'm restating my comment on Sir J's blog.
I think the better word is "privilege" rather than "entitlement." I see a huge difference between entitlement and privilege. I believe ownership, as in ownership of me, is a privilege, not a right. I believe it's always a privilege, rather than a right, as I can change my mind at any time - I always have the CHOICE to submit, which alters his ability to Dominate from a right (always entitled, regardless) to a privlege, which exists solely on my choice to submit.
So, let's look at the difference in definitions. Entitlement is defined by Merriam-Webster's online dictionary, as "a right to benefits specified especially by law or contract." A privilege is defined by Merriam-Webster as "a right or immunity granted as a peculiar benefit, advantage, or favor," but not one granted by law or contract.
We, as a community talk endlessly about consent in a D/s relationship, and most agree it is that consent which makes it far different from domestic violence or abuse. If an Owner/Dominant had the "right" enforced by law or legally binding contract, there would be no need for consent. But, no one has that right, or is protected by any law or legally binding contract which allows him to treat his submissive in a manner that violates her consent.
If you're wondering, I keep talking of a "legally binding contract" because we all should know that while there are many BDSM and D/s contracts, absolutely none of them should be considered legally binding.
As a US citizena, Daddy and I are entitled to the right to vote, the right to remain free from imprisonment for announcing our opinions about the government, religion, and other public figures (i.e,, freedom of speech), and the right to remain free of physical abuse or harm from others in the community. Those rights or entitlements are enforced by law or contract. Otherwise, our other freedoms, such as having the money to own a home, a license to drive a car, are privileges. We as US citizens don't have the "right" to own a car, or a home. This explains why there are so many rules in most areas of our lives, as we do not have the RIGHT to act as we wish.
Thus, it is a privilege to own a submissive, as it is by agreement between two people, and not enforced by law. No one has the right by law or by entitlement to own a slave. But, if two people agree to such ownership, then it becomes a privilege, and one that can be removed by choice, as that agreement is not enforced by law or a legally binding contract. Thus, a Dominant is privileged if he has a significant other who wants to submit to his every desire, and his "rights" to that ownership are obliterated if his partner's agreement to submit is withdrawn. Hence, my opinion that Ownership is a privilege, not an entitlement.
I'm glad Sir J brought this up. I knew that I wasn't comfortable with the word, "entitlement" in The Thinking Dominant's post, but until I saw Sir J's post, I hadn't given the question sufficient thought to clearly define my discomfort with the word "entitlement."
As you know, I have many blog friends. One in particular is Gray Lily over at Journey Into Submission. Recently, she posted about her Daddy Michael. Her heart-felt post inspired me to discuss my relationship with Daddy, and what a Daddy/girl relationship means to me. As I began drafting my post, I realized I would need to break it down into several posts. History of the girl, Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here.
When this girl became a mother, she vowed never to deny her children love and affection. She remembered her loneliness all too well, and promised her children they would never want for such things. Hugs were given out as freely as air, "I love you" spoken nearly as often as she drew breath. But, at her core, the little girl remained lonely, wondering if she would ever be loved, would ever be worthy of a daddy's love, and attention, or if she would ever see a man look at her, his eyes filled with pride, love, and admiration.
Her marriage was good for a while, but had its rough spots. As she began working on her bachelor's degree, her marriage began to flounder, and she had her first affair. It was with this lover the girl found out first about BDSM, and then D/s relationships. After a while, the affair died off, and the girl began to wander the Internet, in search of another connection. She began to learn more of D/s relationships, and desperately wanted her husband to become her Dominant.
As she read more and more about D/s, something inside of the girl blossomed. She felt ecstatic that there were others out there who felt and thought like her. She wanted someone to consider her worthy, and to whom she could look for guidance, acceptance and love. Her husband, love him though she did, was not dominant material. She was too head strong, and too intelligent for him. He thought being a Dominant was too much work. Plus, his mother continued to dominate him. The girl was forced to look elsewhere.
She met many Dominants, and wanna-bes. She only met a few, trying new things out, here and there. She eventually left her husband, as he would not, and could not provide that guidance, love and acceptance that she required. She was again, alone and lonely, searching for the one to make her feel lovable.
She began to hear about Daddy Doms, but turned away from the idea, as she had no interest in age play. After a time, she began learning of Daddy Doms not involved in age play, but who saw their D/s partners as girls. Then she met S. She truly believed S was a Daddy Dom, as he was, at first, so loving and supportive. He told her he was a Daddy Dom, and because she had not met other Daddy Doms, and stopped her online D/s interactions, she knew no differently.
After four very long, tumultuous years of losing jobs, losing money, losing her father, losing her good credit, losing her health, and even losing her home, she sent S away. She realized that S did not want her balanced, and happy, as he claimed. She realized S was not loving and supportive, but only appeared that way for a while to allow her to become addicted to him. After a while, S could no longer hide his true nature as an egotistical selfish addict, who had turned his addiction of drugs over to an addiction of cigarettes, and drama.
S intentionally pushed the girl out of balance, because it was then, and only then, that she truly believed she needed him. Once away from S, and his drama, the girl began to understand this fully. She knew she constantly questioned who she was, in S's presence, but believed, as S told her, that her imbalance and confusion was because she fought her submission. After a short time alone, she finally acknowledged that S was controlling and sadistic, not dominant, and that her well-being took second place to his comfort and happiness. S was a codependent, and she enabled him.
So, the girl took a year to find herself again. Once again, focused on her recovery, she began looking around the vanilla world for a man with whom to spend time. But the vanilla world just didn't satisfy the girl, and finally, with fear and distrust in her heart, the girl began her journey back into the D/s forest to see if she could locate the Big Bad Wolf, i.e., a Dominant. But, just like many other girls in fairy tales, and stories of old, she met lions, tigers, monkeys, dragons, pigs, bulls, and even a few odd ducks. All were too big, too old, too scary, too rough, too cold, or too hot. She was having no luck find the One that was "just right."
Until one day, online, while home with a very bad stomach flu, she met E. Now, she didn't think E was the one for whom she was looking. She had set age and distance limits, both of which he violated. He was also taller than anyone she had dated seriously, and bald, something which she never considered. But, his profile spoke to her of romance, seduction, culture, education, wisdom, and experience. And, interestingly enough, of being a Daddy Dom. She was intrigued but cautious.
His emails, only two or three in number, were succinct, charming, and well-written. They began chatting by instant messenger, and after a short time, he asked if she would be willing to talk by phone. She said, "yes," and never looked back. The first day they met online, they spoke by phone nearly seven hours. She doesn't remember, now, the first time she called him "Daddy." It was per his request, and she's certain he knows exactly when it was, but she doesn't recall.
What she does remember is the thought going through her mind while on the phone with E that first week that she would marry him. She knew in her heart she had found her soul mate, her forever lover, and the man of her dreams. By the end of that week, she was was hooked, addicted, head over heels crazy for the man she called, "Daddy."
As you know, I have many blog friends. One in particular is Gray Lily over at Journey Into Submission. Recently, she posted about her Daddy Michael. Her heart-felt post inspired me to discuss my relationship with Daddy, and what a Daddy/girl relationship means to me. As I began drafting my post, I realized I would need to break it down into several posts. The first part is here.
Then, her father got another job, just as her mother's parents died. When they moved, the girl, now 13, realized that she didn't have to be the best or the smartest anymore. She could be a new person, someone who had friends, and fun. So, she tried to leave her loneliness behind her. And, she did pretty well. She had friends, and fun, and found other girls who liked to read, and be smart too. And she met guys who liked her because she was cute and curvy, and sassy. But, her parents, particularly her father, hated the "new" girl.
Her father was now a boss of over 300 people, mostly men. He was still a workaholic, but now was also an alcoholic. He smoked 3 packs of cigarettes a day, and worked 12-14 hour days, six days a week. He was recognized as the country's best printer, but his children never knew this. His children were never allowed to learn of his accomplishments, and feel pride in having such a talented father. Her father wouldn't talk of such things because that was bragging. He didn't brag because that was wrong, and arrogant. Thus, his children didn't know this until his death.
Yet, he was an arrogant man. He believed that if you committed yourself to a job, you deserved recognition. He believed that if someone had money, it was because they found a way to "cheat" and be rich. He taught the girl that you can only be rich if you're greedy, and evil, and if you cheat. He learned that from his father, who worked hard every day, and died broken and poor. Her father often went to bed without supper as a boy, and didn't have but one shirt, one pair of pants, and a pair of hand-me-down shoes. It was only when he began working at age 12 that he had enough money to buy himself a new pair of shoes, and his own shirts and pants. He was a great man, a depressed genius, a lonely shell of a man, who never really figured out how to be happy until he reached 62 and was diagnosed with lung cancer.
The girl's mother didn't like the "new" girl either. She was dealing with the loss of her parents, and homesick for her hometown. She made few friends, and began drinking heavily with those friends, who were also had miserable lives and marriages. Her mom became even more withdrawn, more emotionally absent (if that were possible). when the girl got off the bus each day after school, she never knew what to expect when she walked in the door. Would her mother be nursing a hangover, or already drunk? Would her mother be pouting in silence, or raging, seething with anger, from being left to raise two children alone in a town she hated, while her workaholic husband partied and traveled with the salesmen from New York, Washington D.C., Florida, and California?
Now the girl was no longer praised, but hated for her desire to be loved, and liked by those in the community. The girl no longer cared about playing the saxophone, and played the piano only because she got attention at parties for doing so. She had well-developed curves, and had many men from her father's work stare and wolf-whistle at her. At 16, she looked 25, and could walk into any bar without a second glance, order a drink, and dance the night away. She had 30 year old men vying for her attention, and the boys her age were just that, boys, in whom she had no interest. More than one of the boys' fathers told her, in secret, that if only she were 10 years older, she would be wined and dined, and pampered as his wife.
Her parents called her "slut," and "whore," because she was constantly in the presence of boys, as few girls had any use for her, because they were afraid she would steal their boyfriends. The other boys in town started rumors that she was having sex with all of her male friends. Her friends all knew the truth, and fought valiantly to repair her tarnished reputation. But, she didn't care, as she getting the male attention for which she had craved many a year. It didn't matter how she got the male attention, as long as she got it.
She began dating a man 8 years her senior. They lost their virginity together, in the back seat of his 442. It was awful, painful, and she hated it. She loved the foreplay, but the sex scared her to death. It was almost a year later before she met a man she was willing to suffer that pain for again. This guy was a cop, and she was 17. She became friends with all of the police department. Her parents hated him, and she knew it. But, she didn't care. Little did she know that she was dating a man just like her father, workaholic, always absent, with a mean streak that included running around with women just to torment her with thoughts that he was always cheating. The drama and emotional abuse lasted about 3 years, until she moved away for a few months, taking a job in the city. While gone, alone and depressed, she realized how miserable she was with him in her life. She quit the job, moved back home, and started looking for a new man.
The next one was much worse. She lived with M nearly a year, her first live-in relationship. the benefit of this relationship was that M gave her orgasms. But, M was jealous, and overbearing. The emotional and verbal abuse destroyed what little self-esteem she had. She became a victim for a while, hiding out, living in fear of what he might do if he lost his temper. M never hit her, but it would have been easier to leave if he had. Verbal abuse leaves no visible marks, but the scars are horrific. It was as if she was beaten within an inch of her life each day. The stress was unbearable.
Her health began to fail, as she started experiencing migraines, and cysts, first in her breasts, then her ovaries. The ovarian cysts were so bad, she would literally pass out from the pain. Once, after she and M split up, she went to his house to talk with him. The ovarian pain flared, and she passed out on his bed. When she came to, M forced her out of his house, telling her he had other things to do, and it bothered him too much to see her in pain. So, he put her in her car, and she drove home, praying she didn't pass out from the pain. Although it was less than a 10 minute drive, she prayed she would make it safely home. Once home, she called her parents, called an ambulance, and promptly passed out again. She came to in the hospital.
Once out of the hospital, she began dating, and met her first husband, T. He lived a few hours away, and would come to visit her every weekend. M was unable to let go, and began stalking both her and T. He would call at 4 am, asking if he interrupted anything. He would circle her house in his car for hours, and try to get close to the two of them if they went out in public. Once, M showed up at her door drunk, demanding that T come out and fight him for the girl. The girl told M to get the f**k out of her house, and her life, and threatened to call the cops, as she still knew them all.
After this, she and T decided to marry, and she moved to his apartment in the city, a few hours from her hometown. She was 22, and had given up on the idea that she would ever go to college. But, it didn't matter, she thought she had found her Prince Charming. Little did she know, she married another workaholic, just like her father, emotionally absent because he gave all his love and attention to his momma.
As you know, I love my blog friends. One in particular is Gray Lily over at Journey Into Submission. Recently, she posted about her Daddy Michael. Her heart-felt post inspired me to discuss my relationship with Daddy, and what a Daddy/girl relationship means to me. As I began drafting my post, I realized I would need to break it down into several posts. This is the first - History of the girl, Part 1.
Once upon a time, there was a little girl who was very smart, and very lonely. Her Dad was never home, as he was always working 2nd and 3rd shifts, while her mom was always worried about her mom and dad, and always very sad because her husband was always at work. The little girl lived out in the country, so she had no friends to play with. Plus, she wasn't allowed to go into anyone's house anyway, because her mom said a kid going in one's house caused a mess, and was just too much trouble.
So, the little girl spent all her time wandering around outside, making up stories about where her real parents were, how she had been kidnapped by these people who claimed they were her parents, and what an amazing lady she would be when she grew up. She fantasized that Cher was her mother, and Tony Orlando was her father. When she began school, she was outcast as the freak, and weirdo because she was so smart. She had never been around kids, and didn't know how to play well with others. She was called "bossy" and "Miss Smartypants," and she cried a lot at home in her room.
Her books became her escape, and she even read encyclopedias to learn about the world because she knew she'd be trapped in this little town until she finished high school. In fourth grade, she checked out all the books she could find from the library on social skills. She taught herself how to make "small talk," memorized the fundamentals of table manners and fine dining, as well as other etiquette when dealing with adults and members of the opposite sex.
All the while, her parents lived their lives apart from the little girl. She didn't get good night kisses, or hugs, or even the occasional, "I love you." The only time she was recognized or loved was when it was her birthday, or she won an award from school. Then, she was told, "Of course you got A's. You always get A's. You always win the awards. Anyone can do anything if they work hard enough. We expect the best from you, and nothing less."
And, she was the best at everything her parents wanted for her: school and playing the piano and the saxophone. But, anything she wanted: gymnastics or singing, or acting, were called "silly" and a waste of time. And, she would never go away to school because that was too scary, and bad people would hurt girls who went away from their parents.
It was also during this time that her brother was born when she was five. She doesn't remember much about him as a baby except he cried constantly. She recalls him at age 2-5, as she was given much responsibility to watch out for him. She hated that responsibility, and as many little girls do, hated him because of her responsibility. Now, she realizes that it was not his fault, and that her parents were wrong to give her such responsibility, but that was many, many years later.
She remembers getting in trouble when he went outside, and ate strawberries straight out off the bushes, and got red juice on his white t-shirt. Her mother would yell at the girl, telling her she needed to watch him closer. If he got hurt, her mother would yell at the girl, asking why the girl didn't watch her brother more closely. Anything he did wrong, the girl got blamed. Anytime he acted like a child, as small children often do, crying and messing up things, getting dirty, and occasionally taking a tumble, the little girl was blamed, and often punished with a quick smack across the legs with a switch or a metal flyswatter. She actually preferred being grounded to her room where she could play quietly with her dolls, or read a book.
The girl's ultimate fantasy, for which she felt guilt for many years, was that the brother would die. She often thought of tickling him to death, making him laugh until he began choking, unable to catch his breath. She even tried this many times, but the brother liked to be tickled, and wouldn't stop breathing. Often, the brother would laugh so loudly, that the grownups would come into the room, yelling at the girl to stop tickling him, as they were making too much noise. Looking back, the grown woman is thankful for the grownups' intrusion, and her inability to make good on her death wish for her brother.
In review, it now is quiet clear to the grown woman she hated to be tickled. It also now is clear to her why she would never, ever, consider, until Daddy came along, allowing another to tickle her, or to try breath play.