A Wicked New Toy

After my last post about my aunt’s death/funeral, I was feeling pretty raw so I went to find Daddy to ask him to hold me, comfort me and he obliged.  We snuggled up close together on the couch to watch some t.v. and just be together and it wasn’t 5 minutes later that my phone rang, it was my friend Amanda.  After I said “hello”, the first words out of her mouth were “What’s the difference between a vibrator and a dildo?”, I stammered “Wa - What?” and she repeated the question.  I told her the difference was one you put batteries in it and it vibrates and the other you don’t.  Seemed obvious to me, I thought everyone knew the difference, but apparently not. lol  God love her.  She immediately dived head first into explaining to me that her sex life sucks, her husband isn’t “putting out” and she’s at a loss for what to do to fix the problem.  She went on to tell me that she enjoys masturbating (who doesn’t?) but that she doesn’t own any toys because her husband feels threatened by them.  I thought that was odd because you really can only see things from your own point of view and I can’t imagine being with a man that felt threatened by molded silicone.  Anyway, after the usual barrage of questions like “Have you talked to him about it?”, “Is he depressed, money worries, something else on his mind?”, “Have you talked to your Doctor about it?” and ”Do you think there is someone else?”  She tells me that they’ve talked the issue to death and he ended up saying that now he just finds sex dull and boring.  (WTF??)  Of course, she took that to mean, with her.  He finds sex dull and boring with her because they’ve been married for 6 years.  Then she proceeded to jokingly tell me she hates me because after 12 years, Daddy and I still have an amazing sex life.  I told her to latch a collar around her hubby’s neck, slap him on the ass and yell “Get to it worm!!”  At least it made her laugh.  They aren’t in the lifestyle, but she knows we are and got a kick out of my comment.  Her hubby doesn’t know about us, she never told him because she said it would freak him out.  I can fully understand why she said he wouldn’t be able to handle knowing about us, especially after finding out Dude has jealousy issues with dildos.

Anyway….

She’s going to talk to one of the Urologists at the hospital she works at about hubby’s lack of sex drive and get his opinion.  The “hallway consultation” is something I definitely miss about working in the OR because it was great not having to make an appointment and pay a co-pay for the same information.  She also said that there wasn’t someone else and she was sure about that.  He’s either at work or at home and she can reach him at anytime.  So….what to do about her problem, I have no idea.  She said she can play with herself to an orgasm and it was great, but what she missed was the feeling of a cock inside her.  I understand that.  I need to feel the hard meat pumping hard inside me too.  She asked if I would ask Daddy if I could go with her to an adult toy store because she was buying a vibrator whether her hubby liked it or not.  I asked and Daddy said I could go, he also gave me $40 and said for me to find us something too.  Love this man!

So Amanda drives to my house and off we go to the only 24 hour adult toy store this pathetic town has to offer.  I should be grateful that we even have a toy store at all since this state is part of the bible belt and all.  We look around and she’s really getting  into it.  She’s pulling items off the shelf and asking “What’s this one do?!”  It was like watching a kid in a candy store. lol  We were having a ball and she asked me for my recommendation.  The first toy I thought of was my favorite - The Rabbit.  I sung it’s praises for a bit and she stared at the box like it was going to perform tricks for her and then decided against it because of the price.  I can understand that, but damn.  She settled for something else, it was nice and I wouldn’t mind having one like it for my collection, she was pleased with her choice and that’s the important thing.  Off and on Daddy’s mentioned getting a cordless, vibrating egg that he wants to torture me with when we go grocery shopping together, of course, this place didn’t have that and if they did, I’m sure it would’ve been out of my $40 price range.  I did, however, find a corded version that had two attached bullets, one for the vagina and one for the clit.  It looked interesting and we don’t have anything similar in our toy box so I went for it.  Amanda and I made our way over to the novelty section which is my favorite part of an adult store.  Penis shaped ice cube trays, penis straws, penis lip stick, breast cake pans and all sorts of funny things.  They had a t-shirt I want that said “Sex for beginners - insert tab A into slot B”  love it!  Eventually we make our way up to the counter to pay for our items and leave and that’s when Amanda hijacked the staff.  Not literally.  The man behind the counter was obviously gay and my friend has some serious brass balls on her because she just exploded all over this poor guy about her shitty sex life and wanted tips on how to please a man.  The guy behind the counter looked shocked at first, but then he got into the spirit of things and started giving her all these tips and tricks.  I’m laughing my ass off.  I’m literally about to lay on the floor and start rolling because the situation was just too comical.  The lady that was behind the counter piped in with “Get him some weed - weed makes my man horny!”  For that, I just laughed harder.  Finally we leave the store and she asks me if I thought it was weird that she wanted sex tips on how to please a man from a gay man and I told her no, it’s not weird because honestly, who better to ask?

We go back to my house and hang out, talking, for a while and then she decides to go home and give her new toy a whirl.  I’m curious to know how it all went for her and if hubby knows about her new battery operated boyfriend. lol  After she left, Daddy wanted to see what I had bought for us so I showed him.  I explained they didn’t have what he actually wanted, but he said what I bought would work for now.  He ordered me to strip and lay down on the couch, he inserted one bullet into my cunt and laid the other on my clit.  When he turned that thing on - HELLO!!  I jumped and shot the bullet out of my cunt straight at him.  That we both giggled at and he re-inserted it and started out on a lower speed.  OH MY GOD!!  Where has this little slice of Heaven been all my life??  The first orgasm came fast and hard, but he never let up and forced a second, equally powerful orgasm out of me.  He kept going and going and I didn’t think I’d be able to reach a third and said as much, but he was undaunted.  No sooner had I said I didn’t think it was going to happen - BOOM!  It happened.  That third orgasm over took me and left me shuddering with convulsions on the couch while Daddy beamed at me.  A little while later, after I had reached some kind of composure, but could still feel a vibrating tingle in my girl parts, he pulled off his shorts and told me to suck him off.  Happily, I started sucking away while he told me that soon, I’d be doing this for other guys and wanted to know how it made me feel.  It makes me feel horny and slutty as hell.  A guilty pleasure kind of thing and that’s what I told him.  I kept on sucking as he kept on saying all kinds of nasty things I’m going to be doing with other people and then exploded in my mouth.  He wanted to see the evidence that I hadn’t spilt a drop so I opened my mouth to show him his cum and then he said I could swallow. 

For what started out as a crappy day, it sure ended well!!  Life is so funny like that, one minute you’re so down and the next everything turns around and all seems right with the world again.  I’m wishing/hoping/praying that Amanda finds the same peace in her marriage and that all will be right in her world again too.

Here’s a photo of me, with my new favorite toy, that Daddy took after the third orgasm tidal wave washed over me.  Sorry Rabbit, but you’ve been replaced. lol 

Rose

Take the Time to Stop and Smell the Roses

We got back from my aunt’s funeral a little while ago and I’m still kinda numb.  She was only 46 years old.  Her name was Debra and she was my mom’s baby sister.  She was a good person, she had a heart of gold, but she lived a chaotic life full of men, drugs and drama.  She made a mistake, she took the wrong path in life and ended up dead from it.  They had to do an autopsy to determine what killed her because she’d been dead for a week in her apartment before anyone found her.  I was shocked by that when my mom told me and everyone’s assuming is was either a drug overdose or suicide.  It’s horrible.  The whole situation is just horrible.  I feel so bad for her kids, well, they’re grown with kids of their own, but that’s not the point.  I think it would be devastating to lose a parent regardless of how old you are.  I can’t imagine what they’re going through and I don’t want too.  I can’t bare the thought of losing my mom even though I know, eventually, that day will come.  Maybe I’ll be the one who goes first.  That’s worse.  Now that I’m a parent, to think about losing one of my kids, I shudder at the thought.  Funerals do this to me - they make me confront and think about death.  It puts so much into prospective between what seems so important and what actually is.

The last time I saw my aunt was 10 years ago before she moved to Florida.  We don’t come from a very close family, my mom’s side of the family anyway, but at the funeral they had two poster boards filled with pictures of her from throughout her life and that hit me hard.  I was even in a few of the pictures as a baby or small child and just seeing her before the drugs/drama took her over hit me like a ton of bricks.  I didn’t cry when my mom called to tell me she was gone, I was shocked, but I didn’t cry.  I thought of how horrible it would be, to be dead for an entire week before anyone even knew, but I didn’t cry.  It didn’t affect me.  Standing there, looking at all those pictures, I started sobbing.  We weren’t close, but she was my aunt, my family and it finally hit me that she was gone. 

I worry about losing Daddy.  I’ve built my entire life around him and without him, I would fall apart.  I don’t think I could get out of bed ever again.  I would stop showering, stop brushing my teeth, stop eating because what would be the point to any of it?  Without Daddy, I would end up being just a shell of a person.  Life would go on, people would still go out to dinner and go see movies, but for me, life would have just ended.  I couldn’t go on.  I don’t know how to.  I’ve been with him since I was 19 years old.  He is my life.  Him and the kids are my life.  To never hear his key turn in the door lock again, to never see his face again, to never be held in his arms again, to never have him with me anymore is just too much to think about.  I love him so much.  Debra’s funeral has made me think about all this stuff and I hate it.  I feel like drawing everyone that I love close to me and never letting any of them out of my sight so that nothing bad will ever happen to them, but I can’t.  You live and you die - that’s just how it goes.  Making the most of right now is what’s important, we all know that, but how many times do you actually do it?  I take a lot for granted.  I take it for granted that Daddy will get home safe every night.  I take it for granted that I’ll get to see my kids grow up into the amazing adults I know they’ll be.  I take the chaotic, frustrating and wonderful life I have for granted like I’m guaranteed to wake up tomorrow and I don’t want to be like that anymore.  Death is going to happen, can’t stop it, can’t change it, but I don’t want to wallow in it either.  I want to live.  I want to do all the things we said we’d do “someday” now or soon so there won’t be any regrets.

I’ve rambled on about life and death long enough now, lol.  I’m going to go find Daddy, curl up with him and relish in the present.

Rose

Fear and Desire

Daddy is a Computer Systems Analyst and he’s really good at what he does.  So good, that word has gotten around and now a local business has contracted him to do their networking system.  I have no idea if that sentence made any sense, I’m not a computer person so I don’t know the ins and outs, lingo, and all that kind of stuff. lol  All I know is he’s doing that job in addition to his regular job so he’s been a busy, busy man lately and not home much.  When he is home, he’s dead tired and hasn’t felt much like torturing me.  I asked to help him unwind and relieve some stress by offering my body for him to beat on until all of his tension was gone, but he just smiled at me and said he was too tired.  I understand, I really do.  Everything that he’s doing is for our family so my job is to see to his needs, sit patiently and wait.  I’m figuring this is part of my finding “grace” in my submission by not being needy, pouty, or resentful of his long hours and in the process, learn acceptance and patience.  That one is a real kicker because I’ve always been a fan of instant gratification, but right now isn’t about me or my wants/desires/needs.  Right now is about him maintaining his sanity and getting plenty of rest so he can give both jobs his best and then when he feels like it, he’ll get back to me.  Grace is going to be a helluva lot harder to find than balance was! lol 

In the meantime….  I’ve been looking at various sites and found a few pictures that made my heart start to race and I can’t wait to show them to Daddy!!  One of the pictures scares the shit out of me and yet I’m oddly drawn to it…hmmm….  I’ll show you what I’m talking about.

It’s a latex vacuum bed and it’s absolutely terrifying!!  I have no doubts that I would be freaking out if that were me inside of it and yet I can’t take my eyes off of it. 

These are the ones I lust after….

          

 

  

Are those not just delicious to look at?  HOT, HOT, HOT!!  I want it soooo badly, but I don’t know if I could handle it.  I’m not good at being whipped.  I dance around, doing a little jig trying to get away from the instrument of my torture, but then I sit at the computer and drool over these markings wishing it were me that had them.  Weird huh?  I can sit perfectly still while being pierced or cut, but bring out the cane and I’m a puddle of tears on the floor before he even begins. 

Rose

Disposable Part 2

Alright, this “war” has gotten blown way out of proportion.  This is my last post on the subject and then I’m dropping it and moving on to happier stuff.  My last post “Disposable” was not an attack on Carrie Ann, even though she believes it was.  I do not for second believe that she loves her son any less than I love mine.  I’ve been reading her blog for nearly a year now and I do believe that her and Taylor have a wonderful relationship and that he would never harm her child.  I understand she was talking in the realm of “what ifs” and it’s easy to say what you’d do in a given situation when you know in your heart you’ll never be put in that situation.  I also believe that if it came right down to it, if push did come to shove, that she would do what she had to do to defend and protect her kid, most moms would.  Not all moms would though and that’s what scares the shit out of me.  There are women out there that no matter what the man did, she would put him above her kids and that bothers me.  It just does.  On a primal level as a mom, it disturbs me that some women (not talking about Carrie Ann) would and have made horrible decisions regarding their kids.  Take the case of Susan Smith from 1994.  She had two beautiful little boys and that by all accounts she loved dearly.  Then she met a man who did not want to be a Daddy to them so she chose to kill them because she put the boyfriend before her kids.  Extreme example, yes, but you hear about similar cases on the news all the time and it worries me.  I have read on other blogs that the slave should put her Master above all else, including the kids and that is just wrong in my opinion.  I’ve also heard it stated on several blogs that as slaves we don’t have the option of walking out the door of our own free will and I get that.  I too have that “can’t leave” clause, but (there’s always a but, lol) if I thought Daddy was hurting my kids, slave or not - I’d be out the door with my kids before he even realized whats happened.  I also believe other mommy slaves would do the same exact thing, that even though we know it’s not going to happen, that these men love us, our kids, and we’re a happy family - I believe that if it turned out to be a huge lie and he was a monster, the mom inside would prevail over the slave inside because being a mom trumps being a slave.  

The point of my last post was simple - it’s a horrible thing as mom, slave or vanilla, to put a man ahead of your minor children.  It’s my opinion on the topic, that was talked about on other blogs, but most recently on Carrie Ann’s and it sparked something inside me.  It was not written as an attack and I believe anyone who reads this blog regularly will understand that.

Rose

Disposable

It bothers me how many mothers out there are willing to sacrifice their kids for their BDSM relationship.  WTF??  How selfish and cold could you be?  Is being beaten, humiliated and abused into one helluva orgasm worth getting rid of your kids for because they’re in your kinky way??  It’s insanity!!  The high someone gets from heroin is probably like Heaven for 10 minutes too, but I wouldn’t throw away everything in the world for that feeling and it’s the same thing with BDSM.  I love BDSM as much as the next sub/slave and wouldn’t want to give it up for anything in the world….except for  my kids.  Mom trumps slave - it just fucking does! 

I hear women say they did all they could to make it work, but in the end it wasn’t working out so the kid was the one who got the boot not the Dom/Master.  Maybe they think they’re being the perfect little slave girl, but what they’re really doing is being one of the world’s worst mothers and they’re fine with being that as long as he pats her on the head and says “good girl - way to throw the kids under the bus for me”.  I find it appalling that any mom would choose kinky sex, bondage, and submission in general over her kids.  Some things in life are more important than BDSM and your kids should be one of them.  I’m getting on my high horse, but it’s my blog and I can so deal with it.  There are many things I would risk for the sake of my D/s relationship, family, friends, employment, but there are two things I would NEVER risk no matter how God like I thought he was and those things are my kids and actual freedom (prison).  Those two things are non negotiable.  Period.  End of story.  Daddy would never put me in that position because he knows that I would walk and maybe that makes me the world’s worst slave/sub, I don’t care.  Up until they both turn 18 - being a mom trumps being a slave, damn it!!

I’ve also read that even if the Dom/Master was abusing the kids - she would send the kids away for their protection, but would continue to stay with her Dom/Master (the kids’ abuser) because as his slave she doesn’t have the option to leave.  That’s just stupid.  You’ll send the kids away to protect them, but stay with the asshole who did the abusing in the first place because you’ve got something to prove about how stupid good you can be.  Dominance/submission is an illusion.  A carefully crafted and wonderful illusion.  Yes, you can too walk out the damn door, unless of course, you forgot how to work a doorknob.  The whole “not allowed to leave” crap feeds right in to the illusion that we all love, but shouldn’t vote the kids off the island over.  Maybe women this dumb are doing their kids a favor by sending them away to live with more intelligent people.

It is hard to make a D/s relationship work with kids, but I’m doing it!!  It is possible.  There are times that I wish my mom would keep them for a weekend, but I would never send them to live with someone else just to suit my own selfish needs.  Women who put men above their kids make me sick and probably shouldn’t have breed in the damn place.  Your kids are not disposable like garbage for the sake of a stupid whip!!  Get a fucking clue! 

P.S.  This post is not directed at Carrie Ann at “A View From the Floor” even though she thinks it is.  I’ve heard many other slave/sub moms say the same thing - the man would come first over the kids.  I think that’s wrong whether you’re in a D/s relationship or not and THAT is what this post is about.     

Stepping off the soap box….for now. 

Rose

World of Warcrack

Daddy had a three day weekend and we had a lot of big plans with what all we were going to do, so what did we end up doing?  Playing World of Warcraft aka - Worldcrack.  It’s addictive just like crack and you lose all sense of time too.  I was never a “gamer”, Daddy’s played for years, but I wasn’t interested in it at all.  Then he decided he wanted me to play, that it would be fun to play together, level our characters together, etc….  Well, I hope he’s happy because I’ve become full-on WoW addicted.  I’m a friggin “gamer” now.  lol  I even dream about it at night - how hooked is that??  I use to dream about bondage, blood, and sex and now I dream about blowing mutant spiders away, WTF??? lol

That’s not to say we didn’t drag ourselves away from our computers long enough to have some actual reality fun!! *smirk*  We were playing around, talking about increasing our efforts to find a suitable female playmate and I started sucking his cock while he talked about all the things he wants to do with her, wants to see me do with her, etc.  Then he said something that just floored me, something I so was not expecting, but had secretly (OK, not so secretly) wanted for a long time - he wants to watch me fuck other guys!!  Woo Who!!  I’m not sure why that’s so hot to me, but it is.  Oh, hell, I do too know why it’s appealing to me - I’m a slut in every sense of the word!! 

Short post - off to play some more WoW!!  I’m going to have to join a support group over this damn game soon! lol 

Rose

Finding Balance and Grace Part 2

“Be glad your kids are young”

“It gets worse as they get older”

“It never gets better - only different”

These are a few of the things I hear when I mention young kids + slavery = damn near impossible if you want to maintain your sanity.

I realize and begrudgingly accept that kids of all ages present an obstacle to a 24/7 power exchange relationship, however, it’s my firm opinion that small kids make it much more of a challenge.  Notice I said kids - plural.  I’m not saying that having only one child is a piece of cake, but back when we had only our son, life wasn’t nearly this chaotic and my submission seemed to come more easily.  Add a baby into the mix along with a toddler and Rose here is one stressed to the max momma.  Always being stressed out does not bode well for my submission to Daddy.

Let me share a day in my life - I start by only getting 4 hours of sleep every night because Daddy works second shift and when he gets home around midnight those few hours until 3am are our only time alone together.  So I go to bed around 3 am, I don’t always fall right to sleep so it may be almost 4 am before I’m actually asleep.  The baby gets up between 7 & 7:30 am and the toddler is usually right behind her.  I make him breakfast while she screams for her bottle.  If I make her bottle first, he’s in my face “momma, momma, I’m hungry!  momma, momma!!”  Change diapers, change clothes, turn on the t.v. to cartoons and cartoons are what will be on all day long.  I now fucking hate Sponge Bob Square pants.  During all of this, demolition derby is going on, our son takes random stuff so I chase him around to get it back - the remote, a cell phone, a coat hanger, etc. pretty much whatever he finds that he knows he’s not suppose to have.  With these these objects or a toy, he’s probably whacked his sister with them and now she’s screaming so I have to console her.  He’s jumping on the couch, he drags out every toy he’s ever owned into the living room, he thinks mommy is his own personal jungle gym if I dare sit down for a minute and he tortures his sister.  He trys to pick her up (she screams), he once tried to give her a wheel barrel ride (she screamed), he trys to rough house with her (she screams), he yanks toys away from her and she screams.  While all this is going on, Daddy is still sleeping.  Around 10 am is when Daddy usually gets up.  Remember “Alvin and the Chipmunks”?  I’m Dave.  Seriously, I yell my son’s name like he yelled at Alvin all day long.  Lunch is joke, I make lunch and son picks at it.  I tell him that’s his lunch and not to ask for anything else - HA!!  Who the hell am I kidding?  Asking for food every 5 minutes is this child’s job.  In between dealing with the toddler, there are dirty diapers to change on the baby, bottles to give, and she’s learning to self-feed so that’s just more mess to clean up.  Daddy helps when he can and sometimes I do get a nap in before he goes to work, but once he leaves the chaos continues.  Around 6 pm it’s dinner time and once again Mr. Picky won’t touch what I’ve cooked because he wants a hot dog - I give him a hot dog, nope - he wants a peanut butter and jelly sandwich - fine - a few bites and he says he’s done.  Then I look over and the baby has a big glob of jelly on her head.  Now here’s the fun part - bath time.  By the time I get both of them washed I look like I just took a shower with my clothes on.  It’s a fight - everything is a fight.  So we’re coming into the home stretch and it’s almost bedtime - THANK GOD!!  The baby is an excellent little sleeper, son on the other hand is in and out of his bed and the Dave style yelling continues until he finally he goes down to sleep.  By the time the day is over and done with - I have steam coming out of my ears, my fangs and claws are out and I’m about fit to be tied.  Then there are a few, not everyday, surprises that son likes to throw in just to make things even more interesting around here.  We’re potty training him - he wants privacy (he won’t go if you’re standing there) I thought he was doing his thing, but he’d been in there a little longer than usual so I went to check on him.  Shit.  Literal shit - feces is on the door, the floor, the wall, the door handle, him - it was a nightmare of gigantic proportions!!!  So yeah, do you see now why younger kids are more of a challenge to a M/s relationship?  Older kids do bring their own unique challenges, but NOTHING like what small kids do.  If I didn’t have to be on my feet chasing someone, getting something, doing something all day and could breath - I wouldn’t feel such an issue with my slavery because by the time Daddy gets home, the last thing on earth I want to do is drop to my knees and cater to someone else’s whims.  I want down time.  Call me selfish, but I want some *me* time.  I don’t get lunch breaks, weekends off, or vacation time - this is how it is EVERY SINGLE DAY.  I am complaining about my kids even though I love them dearly and I’m thankful to be able to stay home home with them - even if it is pure chaos.  I know this is just how motherhood is and that all moms feel stressed out by the unrelenting demands of their kids, but I still say that being or attempting rather, to be a lifestyle slave is harder when you have young kids in the home too.

I told you all of that - to tell you this.  Daddy and I have dropped my status from “slave” to “submissive”.  Yeah, titles don’t mean a whole lot, but just saying that I’m a sub and not a slave somehow lifted a huge weight off my shoulders.  The pressure of being everything to everyone all the time was getting to me and making me doubt if I could live this lifestyle anymore.  We refuse to go back to being just partners, so that left finding a solution so we could go forward in our D/s relationship.  Daddy changed two rules that have made all the difference in the world as to how I feel now about sumbmission.  I don’t have to crawl around the house anymore is the first rule he dropped.  Now, when I’ve had a particularly hectic day I don’t have to drop to my knees and try to be the docile, beck and call, slave girl.  Daddy will get his own drinks and such.  Also, two nights a week he said I could go on to bed before he gets home!!!  I’m going to get an actual full night of sleep twice a week!!  Him saying that felt like Christmas morning to me!!  However, on the nights when we play everything is back in full effect, even the crawling around the house.  Those are pretty much the only three changes and everything else stays the same, but it’s enough to help me enjoy this lifestyle again!  I may have just found my balance, now I need to work on the grace part of my submission….

Brilliant Disguise

Sorry for the hiatus, but a bad storm came through here and it knocked out the cable so we’ve not had the internet or t.v. for a couple of days.  It’s been hell, I didn’t realize how depended we’d become on the internet or cable t.v. until they were gone.  Anyway, on with my post that is now almost 3 days old, lol.

I’ve tried to write this post several times already, but it all just seemed to come out in a jumbled mess.  Of course, the constant interruptions from my kids didn’t help my concentration any either!!   If this post jumps around a lot and doesn’t make much sense then I apologize.

Daddy and I know that I’m going to continue having episodes regardless of what we do or don’t do.  We also know that since we want to go further in our relationship and with my submission, we can’t wait for the magical day to come when I’m cured because it’s not going to.  He’s decided “screw the disorder” and to push me through it kicking and screaming if he has too.  Sad thing is - he will have to.  I am so not submissive during an episode, but that’s not the only time.  Since every single time I’ve ever acted out or broken a rule couldn’t possibly be bipolar related, I’ve started to question if I really am the submissive type and if I’m cut out for this type of lifestyle.  The interest is there, the desire is there, but I don’t know if the ability is. 

He doesn’t want a robot or a doormat and that’s good because I don’t know if that’s something I could be.  What if he did want that?  Could I do it?  Part of me says “yes” because that’s the correct answer to give, but I don’t think it’s actually true.  He says he’s going to break me down and rebuild me as he wants me to be.  It’s everything I said I wanted and now I’m scared.  I don’t think I fit well into the submissive mold because I’m opinionated, strong willed, sarcastic, feisty, high strung, competitive and aggressive - not fitting qualities for a slave.  Maybe what I really am is just a kinky lover.

I’m getting my wish, everything I moaned on and on about in my last post and now I’m wishing I had something to hide behind because “bipolar” doesn’t cut it anymore.  Being vulnerable is hard for me.  Letting go and *being* submissive is hard for me.  I don’t want to let go.  I don’t like doing something I don’t want to do simply because I was told to do it.  I still want to be right and win the fight. Sometimes I still have the attitude of “how dare you” when he punishes me or tells me I can’t have/do something I want.  I’m afraid for him to break me, I’m afraid of what/who I’ll become.  Will I recognize her?  Will I like her?  There are so many things about me right now that I would love for him to change, to fix, but it’s scary at the same time because all these things are *me*.  It’s who and how I’ve been my entire life, it’s what I know, it’s what’s familiar and safe.  I’m also afraid that he won’t be able to break me, I’m afraid of failure on my part to become who/what he wants.  I’ve tried so many times to be more docile, just like I’ve tried to control being bipolar without medication and with both things I’ve failed miserably.

Sometimes it’s hard to relate to him as my Master because for so long he was my partner, my husband.  As most wives do, I learned how to manipulate him and sadly that didn’t change when the dynamic of our relationship changed.  I still found ways to impose my will over his, I knew that if I pushed long enough and hard enough that I’d get my way.  I can’t get away with that crap anymore and it’s scary to me because I can see him already starting to break me of my old habits and change is often met with resistance.  There has been much resistance on my part, even though I’m getting what I said I wanted - go figure.  Sometimes I think it would be easier if we’d met while in this lifestyle - if he’d always just been my Master and that as his slave was the only way I knew how to relate to him, but it’s not.  I remember so clearly how we were before and I’m not saying that I want to go back, I’m just saying it’s hard to make and maintain a 180 degree turn.

I’ve been listening to a Bruce Springsteen song “Brilliant Disguise” and crying because a lot of the lyrics hit close to home for me.  Especially the line “Is it you baby or just a brilliant disguise?” because that’s how I feel about my slavery/submission.  Is it me or just a disguise?  I also like the last line “God have mercy on the man who doubts what he’s sure of.”  I also relate it back to my submission - I’m doubting what I’m sure of it is that I want, who I want to be.  The power exchange light switch has been flipped, I’ll never be able to go back into the dark, but that doesn’t make seeing the light easy.

Friday and Saturday night he started the process of breaking me down.  This is a list of all that happened, I would put it in story mode to give a play by play of when and how, but I can’t remember.  I was in some serious head space during and after all this so I can’t go by my memory of the sequence of events.  While doing these things, there was also an intense interrogation type of conversation going on.

- got the shit kicked out of me while Daddy was wearing steel-toe boots.

- Daddy pulling me by my hair to lead me with and nearly pulling it out by the roots.

- fucked up the ass with no lube while having my panties shoved in my mouth to muffle the screams.

- held by my hair and face fucked until I was crying, gagging, and vomiting.

- fucked very roughly vaginally.

- face slapped repeatedly.

- shoved up against walls and thrown to the floor, got a carpet burn on one occasion.

- when I crawled, he put his foot under me and flip me over repeatedly.

- strangled until I was dizzy and thought I was going to pass out.

- forced to have several orgasms.  Some I wanted, some I didn’t because I was angry and hating him.

- punched in the stomach and on the arms,thighs.  Repeatedly punched on both breasts like he was training for a boxing match.

There were a few times that I was genuinely afraid of him like he’d lost control of himself, but he hadn’t.  All of the above really did “put me in my place”, but it was short lived which now has me doubting how slave-like I really am.  Then again, maybe there’s not a damn thing wrong with me and I’m doing the best I can at juggling everything in my life.  Maybe I need to stop over analyzing everything.

Here is the Bruce Springsteen song “Brilliant Disguise.”

Rose

Oh Ye of Little Faith, Want a Cookie?

The title is a quote from the movie “Mallrats” - love that movie!!  We like to quote movie lines… it’s something we’ve just always done.

In my last post, I didn’t really want to go into what’s pissed me off because I was still processing it myself.  Sometimes writing it out helps to clear things up and other times it all comes out a big jumbled mess, so I decided to keep the post short and sweet until I figured it all out in my head.

What has me upset is - I want more from my slavery, I want to give more.  I want to FEEL owned even during the vanilla times when I’m chasing an active toddler while also dealing with a crying baby.  I feel so frazzled during these times that it would be so nice if I could feel like something else besides a frumpy mom.  It’s great when the kids go to bed, he comes home from work and it’s just the two of us free to be who we are Master/slave.  Most of the time it’s great to have to crawl around the house, naked to get things for him and he enjoys watching me walk back on my knees bringing it to him.  Sometimes he makes me push things to him using only my nose.  I love humiliation play and I want more.  Sometimes more doesn’t seem like an option, he seems hesitant and I now I know why.

I would love to have the kind of domination in my life where my wants/needs/desires didn’t particularly matter.  I would love it if he would/could beat it into my head that his wants/needs/desires come before mine.  I would love to have a certain level of fear of him.  Not the kind of fear where I’m afraid for my life or that he’d maim me, but the kind of fear that is like “Do as I say - or else!!”  Sometimes and though we are getting better at it, the “or else” isn’t there.  When it is, it’s usually not what I pictured in my fantasy.  I actually started believing he was just too nice of guy and that my world was crumbling because he wasn’t as in to all of this as I am.  I was wrong.

Today was a bad day - I stomped around and acted out and nothing was said or done.  Yes, the kids were right there and they are a large part of why my day was going to hell.  Yes, he can’t very well slam me against the wall right there in front of them and yell at me about my place in our dynamic, but sometimes I really wish he would do something - anything.  I want him to take my submission from me.  I’m not intentionally trying to take my power back, but if it’s not being used and it’s just flopping around like fish, then yeah - guess I do.  I have a tendency to fall back in to vanilla wife mode too and want to win the fight.  I want to be right.  It’s a holdover from when we were partners - you’ve heard the saying “If momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy”.  That was me.  It’s a behaviour I haven’t learned to let go of and I really do want to.  I resist, but that’s when I want him to TAKE the submission from me.  I can’t give it up, I’m fighting to win and even though I know I should, that it’s my place to be wrong (even if I’m not), submission is soooooooooo hard for me when I’m angry.

Which brings me to what I learned from him tonight.  The reason he won’t push me further or harder, even though I’ve made it clear I want him to is because I’m bipolar.  He’s afraid to push me because he’s afraid of what reaction I will have to it.  My track record is not good.  I’ve come unglued many, many times - I shoved a shopping cart into someone once at Walmart and for that I’m labeled for life as a hothead.  In my defense, I was not on medication at the time and now I am.  Yes, I still have episodes, but they aren’t nearly as bad or as violent.  Doesn’t matter.  I still have episodes and that’s the problem.  Whenever I’m in a pissy mood and stomping around the house feeling all icky inside - it’s chalked up to being bipolar.  I don’t like it.  It’s way too easy to hide behind.  I could excuse any behaviour I have and the reason I disobeyed any rule to being bipolar and I don’t like it.  I don’t want or like the label of being unstable.  It’s not who I really am.  He knows me and he knows it’s not always bipolar related, but sometimes maybe it is.  Often I don’t see it when I’m having an episode and only see it after he points it out to me.

I don’t know how to get past this.  How do we reach a new level in our relationship if he won’t take me to it because I’m bipolar?  All this just sucks.  I understand his concerns and his reservations about it.  This is why he’s in charge - he’ll see a line in the sand and ponder it for a bit deciding which way to proceed and I’ll see the same line and if left up to me, jump right over it because I’m the girl who will leap before she looks. 

I need to calm down.  Hell, maybe I’m in an episode right now, lol  It’s not up to me to direct what road we take or if we ever cross that line.  This is his show to run however he wants and I know all that, but still I can’t stop the ache for more, more, MORE!  I want him to shove me down, beat me, hurt me, make me cry and brainwash me out of my thoughts and into his. 

*heavy sigh*

One day - I believe that maybe one day my mental illness won’t be an issue because we will have found a way to either conquer it or to go around it.  God I hope so.  I hate this slave angst I’ve got now and I want him to fix it.  I want him to fix me, but he can’t.  He can’t control my disorder.  I sure as hell can’t control it (I’ve tried countless times and failed every single time).  The only thing that can control it are two stupid little pills I take three times a day. 

Alright…..  letting go.  I’m going to work on letting go and stop trying to drive the car.  Maybe we’ll reach a new plateau and maybe we won’t.  I should be thankful for what I do have and stop looking over the the fence for greener grass. 

Rose

Grumble, Mumble, Growl

My bubble burst.  Damn it.  I knew that dreamy, floating feeling wouldn’t last forever, but I wanted it to.  Nothing major happened, just your usual life shit that brought me crashing back down to earth. 

Now I’m the opposite of where I was - I’m grumpy, pissy and just generally not a happy camper. 

Everything will turn around and be fine again, but right now my own head is playing mind games with me.  I’m feeling full of cliches today because it’s true what they say - you are your own worst enemy.

Maybe it’s hormones.  Maybe it’s sub-drop.  Maybe it’s bipolarism.  Maybe it’s just life and I need to get over myself.  Don’t know.  Right now I’m too busy wallowing in it to care.

Ugh!  I feel like crap.

Rose