This drought

It is a ridiculous amount of time since I last blogged. The last time the blog drought was a month was, well I can’t remember.

On 16th June we went on holiday to France. A much needed break after a crazy past few months at work. I have been carrying a project while also doing my normal work for 6 months. In that time I have had a change in manager, dealt with the politics of a wider work regime change and generally got on with things.

But it isn’t just work. I have spoken before about my lack of libido. A busy work life and lack of time to recharge certainly hasn’t helped. Master has a bad shoulder (for the second time in as many years) and so our play time is also curtailed. The M/s part of our life is there, but it is implicit rather than explicit. Even to us.

I have had few ideas for blog posts and so over recent month kept to posting memes. But this isn’t what I want my blog to be about, really I don’t.

The holiday

We travelled to the Alsace-Lorraine area of France, passing through the battlefields of the Somme and Champagne region on the way. 16 days of time together, exploring new places, seeing new things and trying new food and wine. I found the experience of the Somme, most of which we covered in a day, extremely moving. The remnants of a war fought a 100 years ago. Then onto towns and cities where wars have been fought over a much longer time period. Castles and fortifications, churches and cathedrals. Places where we felt like we were in Germany, but the people were speaking France.

We were busy, packing lots of activity into each day. The feeling of tiredness subsided and the thoughts of work in the main left me. We often don’t have much sex when we are away. Not because we don’t want to, but because our preferred time for sex is in the mornings. And the mornings are often busy with getting ready to move to the next place, or else trying to fit breakfast in. Lame excuses but not really important. Things are good between us, so it doesn’t matter.

Or does it?

Home again

Back into work on Tuesday last week and I seemed to pick up the momentum just where I left off. By Friday afternoon I felt completely exhausted again. Perhaps not quite in the same way as I had when I left for France. My head was and is still clear, but I just feel weary. The hot weather this last week has added to it. So this last weekend has been one of pottering around, eating and drinking. Pleasantly reliving our holiday, discussing the highs and few small lows.

There has been no sex and no overt kink. I haven’t initiated anything and neither has he. I don’t think there is any thing wrong, but perhaps we need to discuss this? Perhaps as usual we will find our mojo and get back to it.

The blog

This blog is not about memes. I love to participate and to look to see what other sex and kink bloggers are writing and posting. But I don’t want this blog to be just about memes. This is meant to be a place I go to write about myself and my relationship. When nothing much is happening in my life other than work and drifting through a weekend, there is little to say.

But maybe there is a bit of chicken and egg to this. Perhaps I need to write and express my feelings about the lack of sex and play. Maybe I need to write some fun and sexy stuff to help us get in the mood. Maybe I need to write. Maybe by writing then the energy and zest for my slave life will return.

This has to be a start

slave stuff

There was a time when pretty much all posts on this blog were written in the third person. Each sentence that might have used the pronoun ‘I’ began instead with ‘this girl’ or ‘she’. This blog was about a personal journey, about being trained and about learning how to please and serve Master. Somewhere along the line, that part has been lost from this place.

Never writing in the first person became challenging. There were occasions that I seemed more appropriate and gradually I replaced she. This girl, the slave was lost from the conversation.

But perhaps it is time to bring her back. Perhaps she needs that aspect of her life to get back to the slave she wants and needs to be. There is, deep within this slave a yearning to reclaim the structure and the rules. To focus back on what was agreed at the beginning of our relationship and part of that is acknowledging that this slave has no specific name. That she should refer to herself not as I but to recognise her status as an object or possession.

This girl

He always refers to her as girl. She is without a name, she is His slave. She is good at complying with the requirement to refer to herself in this way during sex or a scene. Less so at other times. The blasé way in which this girl approaches her slavery has led to other lapses in behaviour and often in forgetting her place and role.

These include wearing underwear (it is often cold and anyway the middle-aged body needs support), not wearing the butt plug, not asking if clothing is required. This list could go on.

But there is no chance that this girl has completely forgotten that she is His slave.

Being His slave always

He is Master. She rarely thinks or refers to him as anything else. This girl thinks about Him constantly and does consider whether the actions she takes are something he would be happy with. This happens most often at work, a place where he is never with her. She often takes time to reflect and wonder what he would say if He had been present.

There are times each day when she touches the tangible symbols of slavery. The collar, the nipple jewellery and sometimes even the clitoral hood piercing. They serve as a constant physical reminder a way of grounding one’s self.

When Master and slave are out together there are rules that are always followed. He keeps control of any tickets or passes. He takes total control in restaurants, though there is often discussion about choices. Plus at any time there is ambiguity, or the potential for disagreement it is His word that is final.

Master is Master and slave is the slave. But this slave feels that now is the time to back to basics. Back to what was agreed at the beginning and back to blogging for its original purpose.

Going forward there will be more posts where the pronoun ‘I’ is not used.

The realities of life

It had been a busy week. Work was as frenetic as usual, and by Friday followed with daughterly responsibilities. When did it seem a good idea to become part of the social committee at my slimming club? After all, Friday afternoons with mum are stressful enough.

But by the evening the half a pound gain was behind me. Mum had been relatively restrained in Marks and Spencer’s. The traffic was kind. And yet.

Master showed me the new swing in the play room. Yes a swing. Thinking about it, he had made mention of the purchase the previous week. Somehow though, that knowledge had disappeared into the recess of my brain.

Kneeling before him as he demonstrated it’s finer points I sucked his cock and all seemed good.

But naked, exposed, sitting on the seat, I wasn’t sure who I was. Whether I was worthy of him. His slave or an imposter?

I wanted to love and enjoy his new toy but something made me want to curl up somewhere with a bottle of wine instead. Trying to distract me and turn me on, he licked my pussy, squeezed my nipples and stroked my clitoris. He used the words that usually make me melt; the ones that reaffirm our M/s dynamic. My head responded but something held me back. My body was unresponsive, he said otherwise but my brain told me so.

Memories of sex with my ex flooded my brain. Perhaps I am the frigid person he had exclaimed me to be. Maybe this past 3 years has been a dream?

Climbing down at Master’s request, we lay naked on the bed. We talked and we held each other.   I don’t know the reason for my sudden freak out but know I am not frigid. I am the sexy woman Master loves, I turn him on, and please him. We love each other, and he certainly makes me horny. In the future we will have fun on that swing.

We moved on to christen the new jacuzzi bath. To have fun and to enjoy each other’s bodies. We drank sparkling wine together and talked about what might have been wrong. I came to the conclusion that if the bath had happened first events may have taken a different course.

I wanted so much to have a wonderful tale to tell about the swing and to have photos for Sinful Sunday. But rather than looking back on these memories as a failure I know that our love is not just about kink it is about being there for each other. About recognising when we need reassurance from the other.

The story about the swing in the playroom is still to be told along with the corresponding pictures. Just watch this space.

One of those update posts

The strain of blogging every nearly every day for the Blogging A-Z challenge left me needing a break. I am so enthusiastic at the start of these memes but time, bad planning and the challenge of obscure words can get in the way.

But it’s time to move on and get back to reality. The February Photofest and Blogging A-Z Challenges are behind me. Time to move on through the year, develop some discipline and post spontaneously. It’s 2 months since Eroticon and I still haven’t got around to making the changes I said I would. No space so far for fiction, and generally my creative juices are struggling to emerge.

Life around here has been pretty full on, what with work, family and social stuff. Add a holiday into the mix and stir in Master’s new bathroom* and you get the picture. Not that any of this is an excuse, since over all I am pretty lazy when not doing any of the above. *N.B He has people in to fit the bathroom, though I helped out in choosing accessories. There are still towels, bathmats and a little cupboard to be considered.

We are very aware of the need to instil a bit more fun and play into our lives. Plus of course sex. The joy of spending more time together this past couple of weeks has included time discussing how to inject energy into our relationship. Plus to rediscover things like anal sex, which we haven’t done for a while.

This week he bought me a leather bra. Something I can wear under my clothing or else on its own around the house. The leather is beautifully soft and comfortable to wear. Master has a real fetish for leather gear, well he just has a real fetish in reality! Summer is on the way, though it isn’t too warm around these parts yet. But the opportunities to get out an about and to have some fun are emerging. Plus he has promised more dungeon time for my birthday in August.

Lots to look forward to and hopefully the opportunity for fun and games on top of normal life.

Summer here we come!

Blogging A-Z Challenge: I

I is for inspiration

Preparations are underway for our holiday on Thursday, so I am juggling finishing off work with ironing and the like. I have enjoyed using the A-Z challenge to share some of the events of our stay in the Secret Dungeon. But I was struck by a post from Sunday and the comments added over the weekend. The post itself was about writing for the joy of receiving views and comments, rather than for writing for itself. @BibulousOne who writes Pain as Pleasure describes the ebb and flow of relationships and sex with in them. Then the process of writing about events that have happened. In the comments there is a suggestion that a post might be planned even while in the throws of sex or play.

Why does this inspire me?

Well because dammit, I have done that very thing. Not while tied to the St George cross mind, I was more interested in the torture befalling me. But I can’t deny playing out a post in my head when I should be concentrating on other things. Not only that, but I do look at  my stats too often, partly because I have moved my blog 3 times now. I slightly mourn the lost of traffic caused by those moves. We both think about Sinful Sunday and Master enjoys taking photos we might use for Molly’s Meme. But that is just one post a week and there is no harm in sharing a photo knowing it will increase traffic. The rest of the time this blog is where I explore a side of myself that cannot be expressed elsewhere. It is a place I let him know how I feel. Explore my kinks and my thoughts about them.

Blogging for the sake of it

There are whole months when I blog because I am taking part in a meme – February Photofest or this months challenge. But at other times, when I consider nothing has happened, I might only blog a few times. Striking up more of a balance is perhaps the challenge and something I will think about. But it is important to keep an eye on why and for whom you do this. The post on Pain as Pleasure has inspired me to remember that.

Recollections of the past

A couple of weeks ago I installed a widget that allows random posts from your blog to be reposted to Twitter or Facebook. I had noticed it on a few people’s twitter feed and since I have almost 5 years worth of posts I decided to try it too. Every 12 hours or so a new tweet, with a link appears on my twitter feed. Yesterday this one cropped up. It was liked and retweeted by eye  and then commented on by Rebecca. How strange then that this week’s Wicked Wednesday is about recollections.

That the post entitled ‘Relationships’ was written in March 2013. At the time I was going though a lot of trauma with my ex. He had recently found out about my relationship with S and was pretty keen to point our my shortcomings at every opportunity. When, that is he wasn’t telling me how much he loved me and that he didn’t want to lose me. When I brought up his own infidelity he told me that something that happened 20 years ago didn’t count. The trouble is that the hurt from all that time ago, had never left me. Writing in a bit of detail about being cheated on as a young wife and mother helped put things into perspective.

Infidelity is not something to be taken lightly. We made a promise to each other in front of family and friends. A promise that we would love, honour and cherish each other. I never imagined that he would break that promise quite so quickly. Especially as in the aftermath he pretty much told me I was frigid and boring in bed. More recent events have proved that not to be the case. Embarking on my own journey took some guts, and all of the time I knew I was being unfaithful. I knew that if he every found out, then he would be devastated and so he was.

But the interesting thing about the recollections associated with this post is this. In March 2013, while he continued to make me feel guilty and to try to get me to dump S, my ex was already seeing another woman. They had met at Christmas and were in the early stages of their current relationship. The wronged man was already in another’s arms. For months after that he pretended that he was spending much of his time staying with a male friend. I believed him because it was easy to do so and because I was preoccupied. The man was a liar hypocrite in the early 90’s when I found out about that first affair and still is today.

For the most part I try to look forwards, looking back doesn’t always help. Sometimes recollections of the past can help. My words from 2013 certainly have done that today.

 

Erotica and me – getting over the mental block


One of the reasons I wanted to go to Eroticon was to explore the possibility of writing erotic fiction. In the main, my blog has always been about me and my relationships. For much of the past 5 years, there has been plenty of experiences to recount. I am sure that this will continue, but since my relationship with Master is for the longterm real life there is unlikely to be kinky excitement all of the time. Last weekend I struggled to complete the exercises set us by Ashley Lister. I couldn’t think of a 6 word story, kinky or otherwise. Generally my creative brain felt somewhat numb. But it wasn’t always like this.


The teenage years

There was a time when I wrote stories, in longhand in a notebook. My friend  and I wrote about the boys from school, the ones we had a crush on. These were tales of innocent romance, about being noticed and kissed. In our dreamworld we were attractive, we became their girlfriends. There was, as far as I can remember, no actual sex  involved. We were 15 or 16 and pretty naive.

Real life overtook us, real boyfriends were found, Wendy left school and started work, she went out with a number of boys including a very odd distant cousin of mine. Her next boyfriend was older and much more mature. She grew bored with our stories, indeed we grew apart. Her life was more interesting than the fiction we had created.

I also had a boy friend, but for me the exploration of my sexuality and his body meant I wanted to write more. I began to fantasise about what sex could and should be about, without even knowing why. Without even recognising that I wasn’t fulfilled in the way I could have been.

I started my nurse training and my writings became essays about nursing care, anatomy and psychology. Hell, there was no time to think about erotic stories, much less write them. Anyway I was having proper, actual sex. In a single bed, in a nurses home, in London. Boys weren’t allowed in our room after midnight, so I was living on the edge here.


Marriage

At some point soon after I became a married woman I picked up my pen and paper again. Marriage wasn’t quite as I had imagined it to be. I worked shifts at a local hospital, often we saw little of each other. At some point in those first years my hubby strayed with someone at work. He pretended to work late, go out with mates and left me on my own for long periods of time.

Looking back, the stories I created in my A4 notepads were pretty raunchy. There was a lot of sex, often involving more than two people. I explored the idea of lesbian sex, even though I knew that I wasn’t turned on by other women in real life. I brought back the men (previously boys)  that I had a crush on as a teenager. These were now hot-blooded men rather than boys. I had no knowledge of BDSM but did explore being controlled by a man. I guess this was a direct result of needing to exert quite so much control over my own life, back then.


Motherhood

Then I became pregnant, for a while I continued the fantasies. But then I was a mother. Juggling work, family, marriage with an unfaithful man (not that I knew) who was incredibly needy, I had neither the time or the imagination. I threw the books away and got on with life.

From time to time I tried to recreate the stories. In those early days I had been able to almost lose myself in the fantasy of the fiction I had created. But responsibility to work, motherhood and paying the mortgage mean that you need to centre yourself. Once I found the blogosphere I was more interested in describing the world I inhabited (mainly work related) that I forgot about any kind of fiction.


Now

Until this week, I had blocked from my mind that I ever wrote fiction, let alone that it might have involved erotica. But I did. Thinking back, there is no reason that I couldn’t get my brain around a kinky story right now. I have the time, the space and dammit the ability to make this happen. I just need to give myself the permission to do so.

Blogging update – moving on from the past

Last Sunday I finally got around to moving my blog. Just over two years ago, when it looked as if Blogger was going to ban sex related sites, I bought my own domain. I searched for and read about hosting, WordPress etc and planned to move. I worked out how to move posts across and even successfully managed to do so. Then following a public outcry Google had second thoughts. I couldn’t work out how to make my blogger blog redirect to my self hosted one, so I just gave up. Periodically I returned to look, once more I moved posts across, but still I couldn’t work out how to redirect.

A few weeks ago I received an email to tell me that my domain name was up for renewal. Should I let it go or try again? Always up for a challenge, I decided to give it one more go. So last weekend I spend time that could have been put to better use, working on the move. After much trial and error I got everything across, including photos and links. Then I managed the redirect. Somehow I then managed to re-import the posts and ended up having to manually trawl through and delete about 750 posts.

But after linking my Sinful Sunday post for last week, I heard from Molly that she had spotted a security problem. Somehow I had set up the blog with a url ending in /blog and if you typed .com  you landed at my C panel. Thankfully @DomSigns was able to help out with the technical details so by Friday I was up and running. I am really grateful for Molly and Michael’s help, without which i don’t think I would have been able to get this far.

Then, just as I got to the point where I might be able to concentrate on new material I managed to mess things up again. Having installed a plug in to delete duplicates I somehow managed to delete all the tags and categories in the entire blog. The past couple of days have been spent categorising everything, starting with this past week backwards and then today from the beginning.

Reading about a long left behind relationship has left me with mixed thoughts. Firstly, I had forgotten just how much I had written in those early days. As I explored new experiences I wrote copiously. I embraced the rules he laid down enthusiastically, if perhaps blindly. I enjoyed the times we had, but now recognise he was probably using me. His marriage had ended and he saw me as an opportunity to explore his kinky side.

5 years on, I am faced with a dilemma. I have no desire to remove that part of my life from this blog, but I wonder if those posts need to be characterised in the way they were? As I reviewed them I know labelled them differently. But should I be more radical and create an “archive” category and then move on?

The past is important, after all it made me the person I am today but I need to move forwards. I am in another relationship, one that everyone knows about. I am a slave and Master is my owner. We know pretty much everything  about each other, both positive and negative. I recognise the things that are important, I need to move on. Moving my blog is the right thing for me. I will have greater freedom about what and how I write. But it will also allow me to let go of the past. There is great value in that.

The image below was the first I posted of me on my blog in 2012. He loved me to dress up in that kind of way and I has fun doing so. But that was then and I think I prefer the way Master likes me to dress for him now. The maid will be consigned to the archives after today along with that part of my blog.

Febraury Photofest

365 Questions – 18th January, Follow your heart

My head rules my life. While I may appear to act on impulse and to to follow my gut feeling or indeed my heart that really isn’t the case. Instead I plan and consider what I should do and then spend a little more time considering what to do next. I worry about the consequences of my actions and then sometimes do nothing for ages even for ever.

I followed my heart when my ex proposed. At the age of just 19, he was my first boyfriend and I imagined myself unattractive to other boys of my age since no one else had asked me. I was in love with the idea of being in love and engaged. Soon after I got involved briefly with an ex patient from the orthopaedic ward. He had been involved in a motor cycle accident and had had surgery. One night the patient in the next bed suffered a severe haemorrhage and afterwards the young man and I talked through our respective experiences and afterwards swapped phone numbers. I an not sure that kind of thing would be encouraged these days, but at the time there seemed no harm in it. I was going off duty on days off and he would be gone on my return. A couple of weeks later we went on a date. He was keen to see  me again, and I was tempted. But I was engaged and got cold feet. My heart told me to do one thing, my head something else. My head won.

It is hard to think of any time in the following 30 years when I actually did anything on impulse where true emotion was involved. I always did the sensible thing, acted like the grown up I was. Until that is the afternoon I travelled to meet with S and subsequently spent the night with him. I often think of what might have happened if things had gone wrong. But they didn’t and we had some great times. Then of course, a couple of years later after things with S ended I met Master. We met in a pub one day and then had a play date the next.

Looking back it is hard to see that that woman in her 50’s is the same as that young scared girl of 19.  But of course I am just a more experienced, mature version of the person I was then. Someone who realised that she needs to live her life not regret the things she might have done.

The question for 18th January – The best part of today was:

Well, other than the dinner out I just had with my mum and two brothers it is the realisation that I really can do what I want these days. I really can follow my instinct and my heart. I told my brother that I really would like him to come and help us finish off the painting that is needed in this house. I don’t want to prolong things longer because I want to get the house valued and on the market.

I want to follow my heart!

 

 

WTF?

This afternoon I sat in a room with the person who was my manager in 2012, we had a great chat about our working lives then and now. We both agreed that we worked in a toxic environment then and are happy to be where we are now.  The meeting finished just after 4 and since I had driven there I made my way home. Given that last evening I spent time looking at posts from 4 years ago that conversation feels relevant.  It took me back, once again to the place and person I was in 2012.  person who I know is different to the one I am now.

Arriving home tonight around 5.15, I know that he would pitch up pretty soon and is as is usual the ex turned up at around 5.30. Apparently my texts to him are too direct, I need to start my sentences with: “would you mind if” and some such. But this is how it is.

He takes a shower in our house every night since his lady friend has a 1970’s style bath, no shower. He hates a bath and hasn’t sat in one for years. Obviously he hasn’t been to the kind of places I have where they have a wonderful spa bath, or tried candles, bubbles and sparking wine at home (though let it not be this home)

Discussions were cordial but to  be frank this particular statement stuck in my mind:
“I still own half of this house, I pay £80 each month. I pay for Sky TV”
As I told him £80 is nothing in comparison to the mortgage, utility bills, council tax…….In excess of £600. If he didn’t pay the Sky TV bill I would cut it off. Who needs satellite TV (other than Master using the mobile app that comes with hubby’s deal to watch cricket) any way?
Then there is the apartment in France for which he pays nothing. Meanwhile for the past 3 years he has enjoyed 2 holidays a year, for the price of the flights.
I need to get out of this situation and to leave him to it. Really! WTF?