See, the thing about me, is that my emotions don't work properly. I've been diagnosed with a whole bunch of fancy psych terms, but that's what it boils down to. I'm not ashamed, because I look at my mental health like one ought to look at their physical health. Like someone with diabetes or COPD or something, I have a chronic, life altering condition. There are no cures, but one can treat the symptoms, if they want to. And who wouldn't want to, right? Who wouldn't want to have some shred or normalcy in their life? So I try. And you know what? The last two years, I've been pretty healthy. I've slipped a few times, I've made some tactical errors, but mostly, I'm really doing pretty well. After a lifetime of confusion and chaos and darkness, to be dramatic, I have some light. I am content. I have peace, and I have had a moment's rest from my demons.
But I am not myself. Unlike diabetes, my mental health is a large part of who I am. I absolutely can be defined by my personality, because that is actually what defines us. My mother spent my entire life teaching me right from wrong, which is a good thing for a person who lacks general empathy. I don't have much of a conscience. I don't feel for people the way that I'm supposed to. There are people in my life, certainly, who I love, who I care for, and for them, yes, I can hurt for them. But I've spent my whole life essentially borrowing emotions. I read voraciously. I become attached to television shows. Fictional characters. I write, I give my feelings to people that I can't hurt, and it leaves me sometimes bereft... but for a very long time, it kept me sane. I learned to use that tactic in my everyday life. If everyone around me is sad, I should be sad, too. If they're angry, there should be a reason. Death isn't funny, so I shouldn't laugh. I may see all the reasons why a bad person, someone who never learned what my mother taught me, should die, but killing is wrong, you don't just go around killing people. I have a fake moral compass, and I rely very heavily upon it.
And now here I am, and my emotions are my own, and I am very isolated. I spend 90% of my time alone, and I feel like I'm losing touch with my fake moral compass. I'm struggling to make sense of the world around me. My relationship with the man I love is suffering, and he's doing all he can to help, but I'm letting him down. I'm angry with him for not believing in me, even though I know he probably does. I'm sad that I feel this wall between us, hurting that he doesn't always try to peek over the top of it to find me, even though I know this man, and he would tear the wall down with his bare hands, if he could. I'm frustrated that his family, the only people in our world in a real position to help us, don't, while my family struggles to help us tread water at the risk of drowning, themselves. He keeps asking me what's wrong, but I don't have any answers for him. I don't even have any answers for myself.
He asked to take the cage off, and I let him. And I'm hurt by this, I'm sad, I'm angry, I'm confused, because all I heard was "I'm sorry, but you can't be trusted, and I don't trust you, and I don't want to do this anymore." And I'm mad at myself for not fighting him. I'm mad that I didn't tell him that it hurt. I'm mad that this was more than a week ago and I'm too big a coward to tell him and that so much time has passed that now it feels wrong to bring it up. I'm scared that our last fight was too much, that any day now he'll wake up and realize that he's making a mistake wasting his time on me. That he's going to really see how broken I am and he won't want me anymore, and that I won't recover for that. I keep asking for reassurance, I keep begging for something, some little sign, but he's so tired. Tired of life, tired of struggling, tired of me. He has nothing left to give, and I am not strong enough to get better on my own this time. I'm not. I wanted to be, I really thought I was. I would never have even let this relationship happen if I didn't think I could survive the end of it, because that's how my life works. Everything ends. Everyone leaves.
I didn't count on this, because I've been borrowing emotions for so long, I never expected to ever be able to give myself completely to another person. I didn't count on him being the one. The missing piece. The safe place to exist and hide and find sanctuary. I didn't count on my own heart finally beating for someone else. I'm so afraid of losing him that I am frozen in place. I don't know how to keep him. I don't know how life keeps going on without him. I need help. I need him to help me, to coddle me, to be the strong one who fights for us, and I'm terrified that he's just too tired to give me that anymore.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Thursday, January 29, 2015
...and all the little ways we fail...
I am sincerely not a very good wife. I'm hindsight this isn't incredibly shocking, because I was a mother first and truthfully, I'm not exceptionally very good at that, either. The fault lies not with these beautiful men - one of them 33 and a perpetual child and the other 7 and a half and usually much too big for his britches - but entirely with me. If you asked me to describe myself in three words, I would give you two that are quite positive; loving and tenacious. Anyone who has ever been a wife or a mother will tell you that those two characteristics will take you far. However, like the character who requires a fatal flaw, my third word would be selfish. Even my love, at times, is selfish. I expect to be the priority. I expect constant attention. I expect that my word be law above all others. And when it is not, I am exceedingly good at making people feel very bad about it. I'm not proud of this, it simply happens to be the truth, and I am a realist. While I have learned, in over 7 years with a handicapped child, to be a pretty good mother, I haven't had that kind of time yet in which to learn how to be a pretty good wife. I apologize for this a lot. That doesn't make it okay, and though I could sit here and lament about how my bipolar disorder and anxiety should give me an excuse, I won't. I'm claiming the truth as my own, because the truth will set you free.
On top of my dubious mental health, I also have physical limitations. My immune system is weak, and I have one lung. Respiratory illnesses are not a simple thing for me. So I am literally terrified of things like a stupid cold, which right now my poor Pet is laid up with. I have not touched him for two days. I have excommunicated him to the bedroom, and yelled at him every time he so much as gets up to take his dishes to the sink. I see how I'm hurting him. A good wife would put thoughts of herself aside, dote, nurture. If he had a stomach bug, I'd be right there, cleaning up puke and telling stupid jokes. If he had freaking EBOLA, I would shun a HAZMAT suit to cuddle with him. But he is congested and his throat hurts and I can hear his voice going and being in the same room with him incites panic in me. When he talks, I hear monitors and feel the cold tubes delivering oxygen to my useless, weak lung. When he clears his throat or has a little cough, my chest is heavy and I can feel the IV in my hand, I can smell the sterile hospital room and feel all those strangers poking and proding me with their needles and their stethoscopes and see the frown lines on the respiratory therapist's face. I don't see him, I see germs and fear and terror and years of isolation and ICUs.
And I hear myself begging him to understand, but he can't. He's never been there when a stupid cold turned into double pneumonia or they've had to drain fluid from my lungs or I've been on oxygen for weeks like a little old lady, and I'm thankful for the diligence I keep so that he hasn't had to experience that fear. So if he has to be mad at me and only see how selfish I am, then that's okay. Because I'm learning how to be a pretty good wife. And if he has to be angry and hurt to be spared that, then I will take it. And if I get a cold because he insists on touching clean dishes to put them away, I will tie him to the wall and beat his cute little ass until he begs me to stop, and then some.
On top of my dubious mental health, I also have physical limitations. My immune system is weak, and I have one lung. Respiratory illnesses are not a simple thing for me. So I am literally terrified of things like a stupid cold, which right now my poor Pet is laid up with. I have not touched him for two days. I have excommunicated him to the bedroom, and yelled at him every time he so much as gets up to take his dishes to the sink. I see how I'm hurting him. A good wife would put thoughts of herself aside, dote, nurture. If he had a stomach bug, I'd be right there, cleaning up puke and telling stupid jokes. If he had freaking EBOLA, I would shun a HAZMAT suit to cuddle with him. But he is congested and his throat hurts and I can hear his voice going and being in the same room with him incites panic in me. When he talks, I hear monitors and feel the cold tubes delivering oxygen to my useless, weak lung. When he clears his throat or has a little cough, my chest is heavy and I can feel the IV in my hand, I can smell the sterile hospital room and feel all those strangers poking and proding me with their needles and their stethoscopes and see the frown lines on the respiratory therapist's face. I don't see him, I see germs and fear and terror and years of isolation and ICUs.
And I hear myself begging him to understand, but he can't. He's never been there when a stupid cold turned into double pneumonia or they've had to drain fluid from my lungs or I've been on oxygen for weeks like a little old lady, and I'm thankful for the diligence I keep so that he hasn't had to experience that fear. So if he has to be mad at me and only see how selfish I am, then that's okay. Because I'm learning how to be a pretty good wife. And if he has to be angry and hurt to be spared that, then I will take it. And if I get a cold because he insists on touching clean dishes to put them away, I will tie him to the wall and beat his cute little ass until he begs me to stop, and then some.
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Little Things
I have never excelled at multitasking, and that extends to not being able to put something aside to focus on something else. Lately, Pet has needed more from me than I have been able to give, and it has unfortunately left him with doubts. I callously told him that real life takes precedence over our current arrangement and I know that I hurt him. I know because I saw his face when he mumbled that this, too, is real life. And he's right. It is real life, it is our life, it is a give and take and I seem to live on the taking end.
The Truth is, the actual truth, is that I mean life outside our rules and our home and our world, sometimes DOES take over in my head. I've been dealing with family drama and my own depression and it's been very difficult for me to compensate. I'm not interested in sex, but our life isn't only about sex, and when I neglect that, I neglect him. We haven't played in some time. I haven't been able to find the energy, honestly, but we played tonoght. And though the session was shorter than I had intended, I found that it was what I needed. I have to learn to trust those instincts for both of us.
In related news, ball gags are exceptionally hot.
The Truth is, the actual truth, is that I mean life outside our rules and our home and our world, sometimes DOES take over in my head. I've been dealing with family drama and my own depression and it's been very difficult for me to compensate. I'm not interested in sex, but our life isn't only about sex, and when I neglect that, I neglect him. We haven't played in some time. I haven't been able to find the energy, honestly, but we played tonoght. And though the session was shorter than I had intended, I found that it was what I needed. I have to learn to trust those instincts for both of us.
In related news, ball gags are exceptionally hot.
Saturday, January 10, 2015
Am I Really Cut Out For This?
I feel like every blog I read by another Dom/me is written by someone so much more confident, so poised, so in control. I never see them post about their struggles, their issues. The most I see is complaints about their submissives not behaving as they want them to. I'm sure that most of these blogs are written to focus SOLELY on the BDSM aspect of their specific relationship, but I can't help but end up feeling wholly inadequate at times. Am I missing something? Am I just NOT the person I keep feeling so much more like I really am? I'm confused. Honestly, I'm a mess.
I had plans for tonight; not only do I owe Pet a session in the basement - a fact he is not in a hurry to let me forget, apparently - between last night and a minor irritation on Pet's part, this morning I decided I was really, really in the mood to do exactly this. I even informed him I would. Due to my sometimes mercurial mood swings, I try not to make promises or offers unless I'm 100% sure that these things will come to pass, because it's not fair or acceptable to be in control and lead him on. But things changed so much in the course of one day. Everything about my mood, my temperment, everything.
See, I love being in control. I really, really do. But in my actual life, I'm not a controlling person. I'm not domineering, or demanding. In fact, I tend to be fairly go-with-the-flow, and I rarely speak up or against much of anything. I always find that life is just easier if I let things go. Most of the time, it's no big deal. And because of that, the people around me tend to overlook me. I let bigger personalities take charge to avoid causing waves.
But Pet... is supposed to be MINE. I am not supposed to have to share his priorities, his devotion, with anyone else. I respect that he will still love his family, and that we have a child who absolutely has to be a priority as well. But in all things, he is my priority. I try very hard to make him aware of that. I may disagree with decisions he makes, but I always support him - even, sometimes, by BEING that devil's advocate who shows him another side of the coin. He keeps asking for time spent in TPE. He specifically requested this a few days ago, asking for me to take complete control for a few days. We have a lot on our plates right now, and he needs a break. I want to give that to him. But it's impossible. I can't do it. I can't do it because I don't have that kind of control over him. I am never his priority outside of our playing. For some reason, I never have been. He is a very me-oriented person, and to be fair, was a bachelor for a long time. But he does things, on a semi-frequent basis, that demonstrate that his primary thought is for himself, not for others. We struggle for months, he refuses to get a credit card, then does so without talking to me because he "sees a good opportunity". He takes my car to work instead of his SUV, to save on gas, but leaves it at work because it's more convenient for HIM to drive his work truck home... even though he knows I hate letting my car sit out in the middle of nowhere all night, and I hate driving his SUV should I need to go somewhere. Despite multiple requests, this happens over and over. He is offered a free ticket to an NFL game (football being one of my favorite things in the world) on my birthday weekend (my birthday being my ACTUAL favorite day of the year..) and gets angry and upset that choosing to go hurts my feelings. If I want to go do something, I am lectured for an hour on why we can/cannot afford it, how it would be irresponsible, etc. If he wants to do something, he doesn't ask me, we just do it. Or, rather, he does. We don't go out much due to our financial situation, but rather than an inexpensive dinner and time together, he put beer on the credit card once. In our almost 2 years together, he has not been able to stop thinking like a single person. It is infuriating.
If I am sitting here quietly doing something other than focusing on him, he will badger me, asking me over and over what I want him to do. If I tell him to do as he wants - as in, I don't need him for something - he is arrogant and flippant and comments on my being "way too nice" or things of that nature. These comments make me feel small and, ultimately, revert power to him. UIltimately, I am being made to feel like I am not living up to his expectations. When I comment that I should not need to entertain him, he argues that he wants structure. What he wants, in reality, is attention - that I should not have to pay him, if I am in control and don't feel like paying him. It's not like he earned the attention. He feels that if I am not giving him something to do with himself literally every minute of the day, I am not in charge.
I have a seven year old. I wasn't aware I also needed to provide a three ring circus for my submissive - a man who, I openly admit, is far more needy when it comes to entertainment than I am. Give me a book or a video game and I'm good for hours. He needs something to do 24/7. And being the sole source of his entertainment is not something I want or need or desire in the slightest.
Top this off with an explosive issue this evening regarding his inability to put me first, to trust my opinion or even my RIGHT to an opinion, and no. I didn't want to play. I am hurt, I am angry, and I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to try and decompress from his hurtful outburst. I don't know what to do in this situation. I feel like a Domme with any experience or confidence in Herself would have punished him, would have taken control of the situation. But again, despite his clearly expressing a desire for this, he doesn't actually want it in practice. He is the sort of person who does anything he can to please the people around him... he just has this uncanny knack of including my wants, thoughts, and desires into his sacrifices. To make other people happy, it's fine if I am upset, hurt, or ignored. I love this man with all of my heart, but for all of selfless actions, he can be a very selfish person. He wants to make everyone happy so no one is upset with him.
So tonight, he is in bed without me. Because I'm still angry. I'm still hurt. And I'm frustrated, because these situations leave ME feeling like -I- have failed, but I can look at this post and see a hundred places where HE failed. These may not be as clear to you because I don't like to go into details about our personal life here, but this situation happened because he wants something he can't actually accept.
Let me make it clear that if he only wants us to have a BDSM relationship in the bedroom, that is something that is acceptable to me. I'm not being irrational. If he is not willing or able to accept and desire my judgement in his "normal" life, then that is fine. Those are clear boundaries that I can set, understand, and deal with. But this can't keep happening, because tonight has been entirely too much for me. Pet needs to make some decisions about what he really wants out of this relationship. So far, we have not been extremely structured. We've been trying new things regularly, trying to find what works for us. Going forward, I don't think this cavalier attitude will continue to be acceptable to me.
I feel like we've reached a point where I, at the very least, will require clearly drawn boundaries and guidelines for our relationship. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep being disrespected because of other people, and I certainly should not and will not keep making excuses for situations. If he wants to continue on our BDSM journey, he needs to be clear and define exactly what it is he wants and expects from me. If he cannot do that, then it may be time for us to move on in a more vanilla capacity until perhaps our day-to-day settles down a bit and we can try to find our way, then. Until that conversation is had and at least some sort of quasi-contract is made, the paddles are put away, the cage comes off, and I sit this one out.
I can't take another night where we sit in silence for almost four hours because we're both irritated and angry and he goes to bed, only telling me he loves me as an afterthought, when prompted. This entire thing has been about bringing us closer, and I won't allow it to tear us apart. In the beginning, this brought us so much closer together. It was pushing my weaker sexual drive, and that helped even out the discrepency in our desires. It made us talk more openly about things both sexual and not. I felt like we had a clear direction. But now, it's nothing but mixed signals and interference. He gets off, and immediately wants to know exactly when he will be allowed to get off again. "When you earn it" is not an acceptable answer to him.
So, I guess what I'm saying is he needs to decide who is actually in control, because I am exhausted and done butting heads over it. Either I am, or this doesn't work. We both know I cannot be the submissive that he might want if the situation were reversed, and that, honestly, he isn't a dominant person.
Sorry about rambling; I just needed to vent, and I have no one offline I can talk to about this.
<3
I had plans for tonight; not only do I owe Pet a session in the basement - a fact he is not in a hurry to let me forget, apparently - between last night and a minor irritation on Pet's part, this morning I decided I was really, really in the mood to do exactly this. I even informed him I would. Due to my sometimes mercurial mood swings, I try not to make promises or offers unless I'm 100% sure that these things will come to pass, because it's not fair or acceptable to be in control and lead him on. But things changed so much in the course of one day. Everything about my mood, my temperment, everything.
See, I love being in control. I really, really do. But in my actual life, I'm not a controlling person. I'm not domineering, or demanding. In fact, I tend to be fairly go-with-the-flow, and I rarely speak up or against much of anything. I always find that life is just easier if I let things go. Most of the time, it's no big deal. And because of that, the people around me tend to overlook me. I let bigger personalities take charge to avoid causing waves.
But Pet... is supposed to be MINE. I am not supposed to have to share his priorities, his devotion, with anyone else. I respect that he will still love his family, and that we have a child who absolutely has to be a priority as well. But in all things, he is my priority. I try very hard to make him aware of that. I may disagree with decisions he makes, but I always support him - even, sometimes, by BEING that devil's advocate who shows him another side of the coin. He keeps asking for time spent in TPE. He specifically requested this a few days ago, asking for me to take complete control for a few days. We have a lot on our plates right now, and he needs a break. I want to give that to him. But it's impossible. I can't do it. I can't do it because I don't have that kind of control over him. I am never his priority outside of our playing. For some reason, I never have been. He is a very me-oriented person, and to be fair, was a bachelor for a long time. But he does things, on a semi-frequent basis, that demonstrate that his primary thought is for himself, not for others. We struggle for months, he refuses to get a credit card, then does so without talking to me because he "sees a good opportunity". He takes my car to work instead of his SUV, to save on gas, but leaves it at work because it's more convenient for HIM to drive his work truck home... even though he knows I hate letting my car sit out in the middle of nowhere all night, and I hate driving his SUV should I need to go somewhere. Despite multiple requests, this happens over and over. He is offered a free ticket to an NFL game (football being one of my favorite things in the world) on my birthday weekend (my birthday being my ACTUAL favorite day of the year..) and gets angry and upset that choosing to go hurts my feelings. If I want to go do something, I am lectured for an hour on why we can/cannot afford it, how it would be irresponsible, etc. If he wants to do something, he doesn't ask me, we just do it. Or, rather, he does. We don't go out much due to our financial situation, but rather than an inexpensive dinner and time together, he put beer on the credit card once. In our almost 2 years together, he has not been able to stop thinking like a single person. It is infuriating.
If I am sitting here quietly doing something other than focusing on him, he will badger me, asking me over and over what I want him to do. If I tell him to do as he wants - as in, I don't need him for something - he is arrogant and flippant and comments on my being "way too nice" or things of that nature. These comments make me feel small and, ultimately, revert power to him. UIltimately, I am being made to feel like I am not living up to his expectations. When I comment that I should not need to entertain him, he argues that he wants structure. What he wants, in reality, is attention - that I should not have to pay him, if I am in control and don't feel like paying him. It's not like he earned the attention. He feels that if I am not giving him something to do with himself literally every minute of the day, I am not in charge.
I have a seven year old. I wasn't aware I also needed to provide a three ring circus for my submissive - a man who, I openly admit, is far more needy when it comes to entertainment than I am. Give me a book or a video game and I'm good for hours. He needs something to do 24/7. And being the sole source of his entertainment is not something I want or need or desire in the slightest.
Top this off with an explosive issue this evening regarding his inability to put me first, to trust my opinion or even my RIGHT to an opinion, and no. I didn't want to play. I am hurt, I am angry, and I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to try and decompress from his hurtful outburst. I don't know what to do in this situation. I feel like a Domme with any experience or confidence in Herself would have punished him, would have taken control of the situation. But again, despite his clearly expressing a desire for this, he doesn't actually want it in practice. He is the sort of person who does anything he can to please the people around him... he just has this uncanny knack of including my wants, thoughts, and desires into his sacrifices. To make other people happy, it's fine if I am upset, hurt, or ignored. I love this man with all of my heart, but for all of selfless actions, he can be a very selfish person. He wants to make everyone happy so no one is upset with him.
So tonight, he is in bed without me. Because I'm still angry. I'm still hurt. And I'm frustrated, because these situations leave ME feeling like -I- have failed, but I can look at this post and see a hundred places where HE failed. These may not be as clear to you because I don't like to go into details about our personal life here, but this situation happened because he wants something he can't actually accept.
Let me make it clear that if he only wants us to have a BDSM relationship in the bedroom, that is something that is acceptable to me. I'm not being irrational. If he is not willing or able to accept and desire my judgement in his "normal" life, then that is fine. Those are clear boundaries that I can set, understand, and deal with. But this can't keep happening, because tonight has been entirely too much for me. Pet needs to make some decisions about what he really wants out of this relationship. So far, we have not been extremely structured. We've been trying new things regularly, trying to find what works for us. Going forward, I don't think this cavalier attitude will continue to be acceptable to me.
I feel like we've reached a point where I, at the very least, will require clearly drawn boundaries and guidelines for our relationship. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep being disrespected because of other people, and I certainly should not and will not keep making excuses for situations. If he wants to continue on our BDSM journey, he needs to be clear and define exactly what it is he wants and expects from me. If he cannot do that, then it may be time for us to move on in a more vanilla capacity until perhaps our day-to-day settles down a bit and we can try to find our way, then. Until that conversation is had and at least some sort of quasi-contract is made, the paddles are put away, the cage comes off, and I sit this one out.
I can't take another night where we sit in silence for almost four hours because we're both irritated and angry and he goes to bed, only telling me he loves me as an afterthought, when prompted. This entire thing has been about bringing us closer, and I won't allow it to tear us apart. In the beginning, this brought us so much closer together. It was pushing my weaker sexual drive, and that helped even out the discrepency in our desires. It made us talk more openly about things both sexual and not. I felt like we had a clear direction. But now, it's nothing but mixed signals and interference. He gets off, and immediately wants to know exactly when he will be allowed to get off again. "When you earn it" is not an acceptable answer to him.
So, I guess what I'm saying is he needs to decide who is actually in control, because I am exhausted and done butting heads over it. Either I am, or this doesn't work. We both know I cannot be the submissive that he might want if the situation were reversed, and that, honestly, he isn't a dominant person.
Sorry about rambling; I just needed to vent, and I have no one offline I can talk to about this.
<3
oh, hello...
We played a game tonight; we both enjoy playing darts, and have a fairly nice dart board in our basement. He is a thousand times better than I am, but I always have so much fun when we play. I made Pet play right handed tonight - he's a lefty - and he was still kicking my ass. I was drinking and needed some motivation.
See, Pet is already in trouble right now. I am an admitted and diagnosed sleep-molester. I have to tell anyone subjected to sleeping in a bed with me that they face potential groping. I am not conscious, and have no control of it whatsoever. It is similar to sleep walking, and it's actually a thing. Pet, having been sleeping in a bed with me for well over a year, is aware of this fact. The other night, I allowed him a night out of chastity. I was feeling gracious, and as he's still adjusting to the Holy Trainer 2 that he's wearing, I felt he had earned a night of restful sleep. Unfortunately for him, my sleeping self was feeling frisky. He admitted to me the next day that he did, in fact, cum while I was stroking him in my sleep. He ruined his own orgasm, stopping me before my hand actually got him off, but this still breaks one of his admittedly few rules: absolutely no orgasms, ruined or otherwise, without express permission.
Our periods of chastity at this point tend to average 2-3 days. We have a roommate who isn't home often, and tends to never be home on the weekends. While we still have sex with him here, I tend to be noisy and we both prefer sex when I don't have to be restrained. His last permitted orgasm was wednesday. Due to his poor behavior, he lost the weekend, and was told he would not be allowed put of chastity until Monday, at the earliest.
Now, Pet loves to cum. I realize that everyone does, but I mean he REALLY loves it. One of the reason we decided to peruse chastity in our relationship is because he is literally incapable of not jerking off. He cannot be trusted. I have been impressed with his dedication so far; he has a very physical job, and as such, he has a key with him at all times in case of emergency. It stays in a sealed envelope, and so far, he has only asked for permission to release himself once. While his own pleasure is very important to him, Pet has learned to place my pleasure above his own. I'm very proud of him, for the most part.
This leads me to tonight - the game. Knowing that Pet is by far the better dart player, we made a wager. The only time I'm ever any good is when I have to be. Pet has been asking for anal sex for several days now. It should be noted that while it's not my favorite, I do enjoy the occasional anal sex. I just enjoy fucking HIS ass more... something that he enjoys in theory, and in fantasy, more than he enjoys in reality. We all know some fantasies just work that way. The wagers went round after round. At one point, he had actually won his way into cumming tonight... but he couldn't resist one more game, to play for a chance at an orgasm he could enjoy, versus a ruined orgasm - a relatively newly introduced activity for us, and one I highly enjoy. I won in a clinch, and he was back to not being allowed out until Monday. I was surprised when his next wager was actually fucking me in the ass, as opposed to being let out sooner. He won that game, but I talked him into another.
As it stands, at the end of the night, I get to fuck HIM in the ass Sunday - although he will be permitted an orgasm both Sunday and Monday. We both came out ahead in this deal! ;)
All the gambling and risk had me wet and needy, which I admit has been a rarity this week. Personal life has me a bit anxious and out of sorts. We went to bed and I immediately grabbed his hand. He has magical fingers, my Pet. As seems to be the usual, it took a considerable amount of work to get me off, but oh, how he worked for it....
So, I shall now retire to sleep, completely sated and knowing my poor Pet goes to sleep another night, unsatisfied, needy, pouty...
Damn. I'm all turned on again.
See, Pet is already in trouble right now. I am an admitted and diagnosed sleep-molester. I have to tell anyone subjected to sleeping in a bed with me that they face potential groping. I am not conscious, and have no control of it whatsoever. It is similar to sleep walking, and it's actually a thing. Pet, having been sleeping in a bed with me for well over a year, is aware of this fact. The other night, I allowed him a night out of chastity. I was feeling gracious, and as he's still adjusting to the Holy Trainer 2 that he's wearing, I felt he had earned a night of restful sleep. Unfortunately for him, my sleeping self was feeling frisky. He admitted to me the next day that he did, in fact, cum while I was stroking him in my sleep. He ruined his own orgasm, stopping me before my hand actually got him off, but this still breaks one of his admittedly few rules: absolutely no orgasms, ruined or otherwise, without express permission.
Our periods of chastity at this point tend to average 2-3 days. We have a roommate who isn't home often, and tends to never be home on the weekends. While we still have sex with him here, I tend to be noisy and we both prefer sex when I don't have to be restrained. His last permitted orgasm was wednesday. Due to his poor behavior, he lost the weekend, and was told he would not be allowed put of chastity until Monday, at the earliest.
Now, Pet loves to cum. I realize that everyone does, but I mean he REALLY loves it. One of the reason we decided to peruse chastity in our relationship is because he is literally incapable of not jerking off. He cannot be trusted. I have been impressed with his dedication so far; he has a very physical job, and as such, he has a key with him at all times in case of emergency. It stays in a sealed envelope, and so far, he has only asked for permission to release himself once. While his own pleasure is very important to him, Pet has learned to place my pleasure above his own. I'm very proud of him, for the most part.
This leads me to tonight - the game. Knowing that Pet is by far the better dart player, we made a wager. The only time I'm ever any good is when I have to be. Pet has been asking for anal sex for several days now. It should be noted that while it's not my favorite, I do enjoy the occasional anal sex. I just enjoy fucking HIS ass more... something that he enjoys in theory, and in fantasy, more than he enjoys in reality. We all know some fantasies just work that way. The wagers went round after round. At one point, he had actually won his way into cumming tonight... but he couldn't resist one more game, to play for a chance at an orgasm he could enjoy, versus a ruined orgasm - a relatively newly introduced activity for us, and one I highly enjoy. I won in a clinch, and he was back to not being allowed out until Monday. I was surprised when his next wager was actually fucking me in the ass, as opposed to being let out sooner. He won that game, but I talked him into another.
As it stands, at the end of the night, I get to fuck HIM in the ass Sunday - although he will be permitted an orgasm both Sunday and Monday. We both came out ahead in this deal! ;)
All the gambling and risk had me wet and needy, which I admit has been a rarity this week. Personal life has me a bit anxious and out of sorts. We went to bed and I immediately grabbed his hand. He has magical fingers, my Pet. As seems to be the usual, it took a considerable amount of work to get me off, but oh, how he worked for it....
So, I shall now retire to sleep, completely sated and knowing my poor Pet goes to sleep another night, unsatisfied, needy, pouty...
Damn. I'm all turned on again.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Dazed and confused
For reasons I have no need to get into here, tonight we asked to borrow money from my in-laws. This is hardly a fact I am proud of, but the fact of the matter is we have a lot on our plate and right now, we're not financially secure. We did not ask for much, and they were only too happy to loan it to us - they are not exactly the Hiltons but they live quite comfortably - but something my mother-in-law said to my husband tonight is bothering me. For anyone reading who is looking for the dirty sexy fun times, this blog isn't for you. Feel free to skip it. But as I stated before, this blog is for him, and I need to get this off my chest and I don't know a better way to do it, because my thoughts are too messy to talk this one out.
I come from far more humble beginnings than my darling Pet does. The last few months we have been doing our best to make ends meet, but my health took a dive and we're fighting to make it on one decent income. My family has never, never asked if we needed help. They have simply given it. Geoceries, money, time - these things are given freely and with no expectation. We are not made to feel bad in any capacity. Ever. And the few times I've actually had to ask, I have done so on my own, without talking to him, because they are MY family, and how awkward would it be to force him to be a part of that? Don't get me wrong - my family adores Pet, loves him to death, period. And I do believe that his family likes and accepts me.
Tonight, he insisted I be with him when he asked for help. I expressed my discomfort with the situation and was, summarily, disregarded. This is why we have blogs. Because we're both literally the worst at making ourselves heard or understood. Anyway, I went. I went because I wanted to support him. I know this wasn't easy for him, not even a little bit, and that is my job. Not only as a wife, as a support system. But as a Domme, it is my job to see to his well-being. So I, too, disregarded my discomfort and went to his parents' house for dinner.
The minute the words were out of his mouth, they were falling all over themselves to offer help. It came with an interrogation regarding my current position as unemployed, but I tried to be present in the situation and be as open and honest as possible. This wasn't just uncomfortable for me. This was agonizing, and I felt like I was being judged and picked apart. It does not matter to me whether or not this was the case - as his father so delicately pointed out, we brought up money, and that made it fair game in his mind. So I sucked it up, smiled sweetly, and divulged about my life. And then his mother said that he knows all he ever has to do is ask. Trying for levity, I teased my husband and made the comment that no one knows he needs help unless he tells them.
She immediately interjected that they know we need help, but that he should have to ask.
I saw red. I didn't speak for a long moment, and thankfully there was enough conversation to keep my dumbfounded silence from being obvious, but I'm still just completely floored. I'm angry. Furious, almost. My family, living on a fixed income that likely doesn't touch the interest they make on what they have sitting in the bank, alone, has bent over backwards to support us and be there for us. We don't have to hold out our hands, they are happy to give and be there, guilt free. Please, understand that I am sure he still feels guilty, as that's just how he tends to be, but there are no expectations, no lists of debts owed. His family expects us to... what, beg?
It took all my strength to accept what we need to get through the next couple months. I don't even expect him to understand this, but I couldn't let it sit here in my heart without saying it out loud. I'm so hurt, so offended, on his behalf. I was a single mom for a long time; humbling myself does not hurt me anymore. But how do you TEACH a man pride, demand it, raise him that way, and then demand he prostrate himself to receive your "generous" charity?
I'm going back to my vodka. It's going to take me some time to get over this one.
I come from far more humble beginnings than my darling Pet does. The last few months we have been doing our best to make ends meet, but my health took a dive and we're fighting to make it on one decent income. My family has never, never asked if we needed help. They have simply given it. Geoceries, money, time - these things are given freely and with no expectation. We are not made to feel bad in any capacity. Ever. And the few times I've actually had to ask, I have done so on my own, without talking to him, because they are MY family, and how awkward would it be to force him to be a part of that? Don't get me wrong - my family adores Pet, loves him to death, period. And I do believe that his family likes and accepts me.
Tonight, he insisted I be with him when he asked for help. I expressed my discomfort with the situation and was, summarily, disregarded. This is why we have blogs. Because we're both literally the worst at making ourselves heard or understood. Anyway, I went. I went because I wanted to support him. I know this wasn't easy for him, not even a little bit, and that is my job. Not only as a wife, as a support system. But as a Domme, it is my job to see to his well-being. So I, too, disregarded my discomfort and went to his parents' house for dinner.
The minute the words were out of his mouth, they were falling all over themselves to offer help. It came with an interrogation regarding my current position as unemployed, but I tried to be present in the situation and be as open and honest as possible. This wasn't just uncomfortable for me. This was agonizing, and I felt like I was being judged and picked apart. It does not matter to me whether or not this was the case - as his father so delicately pointed out, we brought up money, and that made it fair game in his mind. So I sucked it up, smiled sweetly, and divulged about my life. And then his mother said that he knows all he ever has to do is ask. Trying for levity, I teased my husband and made the comment that no one knows he needs help unless he tells them.
She immediately interjected that they know we need help, but that he should have to ask.
I saw red. I didn't speak for a long moment, and thankfully there was enough conversation to keep my dumbfounded silence from being obvious, but I'm still just completely floored. I'm angry. Furious, almost. My family, living on a fixed income that likely doesn't touch the interest they make on what they have sitting in the bank, alone, has bent over backwards to support us and be there for us. We don't have to hold out our hands, they are happy to give and be there, guilt free. Please, understand that I am sure he still feels guilty, as that's just how he tends to be, but there are no expectations, no lists of debts owed. His family expects us to... what, beg?
It took all my strength to accept what we need to get through the next couple months. I don't even expect him to understand this, but I couldn't let it sit here in my heart without saying it out loud. I'm so hurt, so offended, on his behalf. I was a single mom for a long time; humbling myself does not hurt me anymore. But how do you TEACH a man pride, demand it, raise him that way, and then demand he prostrate himself to receive your "generous" charity?
I'm going back to my vodka. It's going to take me some time to get over this one.
Friday, January 2, 2015
Did someone call for an orgasm?
I'm writing from my garage, where I'm indulging in a post-O cigarette (I smoke, he doesn't, my terms for quitting include a baby and we have travel plans coming up that I'd rather not be knocked up for! ). Pet worked all lll day, and sent several naughty messages about wanting to get me off, wanting to eat me out - his favorite, though my self-consciousness took a long time to get over itself! - about how horny he was. He wasn't whining, which is a big no no, and he didn't ask to be let out, he was just telling me. And dammit, that was a serious turn on. He knows he isn't getting out until tomorrow.
I. Could. Not. Cum.
This isn't even really news; I'm a very strange woman in that I tend to need penetration to get off, and even then, it's not a sure thing. Orgasms with other people require a level of trust that I never had before him, and it can still be hard for me to relax enough. A few drinks usually help, but my wine was letting me down. At one point I was stealthily crying. Not for me... but because I know how much it bugs him. I didn't leave right after because I needed a cigarette, I left because I feel like a failure and I needed a moment to regroup. I take anti-depressants (most of the time) and anti anxiety meds, and these things wreak havoc on my body. He knows that. He's never horrible if I don't get off. But it cuts me to the quick to see the dissapointment in his eyes.... and after going quite a little while without an orgasm, tonight's wasn't exactly show stopping.
These are the moments I fail as a Domme. These are the moments when I feel weak and afraid and lonely, even though he's right there, never judging me.
He still isn't getting off tonight. Poor pet.
I. Could. Not. Cum.
This isn't even really news; I'm a very strange woman in that I tend to need penetration to get off, and even then, it's not a sure thing. Orgasms with other people require a level of trust that I never had before him, and it can still be hard for me to relax enough. A few drinks usually help, but my wine was letting me down. At one point I was stealthily crying. Not for me... but because I know how much it bugs him. I didn't leave right after because I needed a cigarette, I left because I feel like a failure and I needed a moment to regroup. I take anti-depressants (most of the time) and anti anxiety meds, and these things wreak havoc on my body. He knows that. He's never horrible if I don't get off. But it cuts me to the quick to see the dissapointment in his eyes.... and after going quite a little while without an orgasm, tonight's wasn't exactly show stopping.
These are the moments I fail as a Domme. These are the moments when I feel weak and afraid and lonely, even though he's right there, never judging me.
He still isn't getting off tonight. Poor pet.
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