Still learning

This week I realised I am still learning about how to write for a blog. I recently offered to help Marie from Rebel’s Notes with the roundup and judging of Wicked Wednesday. She took me up on the offer and this week it was my turn; Marie will publish my top 3 today. The Wicked Wednesday prompt for the following week is posted on Saturday, along with the roundup and top 3 from the previous week.

I have taken part in a number of the regular memes that circulate the sex and kink related blog world, including Wicked Wednesday. They are a great way to focus on a topic, to share with a wider audience and to find new blogs to read. My own preference is posts about real lived experience and also opinion about life, love, sex and kink. Probably because those are the kinds of blog posts I write. Fiction doesn’t come easily to me as a writer and although I read plenty of fictional books of all genres I tend not to do so on blogs. I am not sure why, but when I browse blogs and find short stories I often pass by. That however might change now.

2517 and all that

This week’s prompt was about life 500 years hence in 2517. I fully intended to write a post and wanted to try some fiction, I even started the post. My thoughts centred around the idea that maybe our lives would have become simpler. Technology has advanced beyond recognition in the past 100 years. We use it to communicate, to make life easier, as labour saving devices, and to fight wars. What if communication such as we know it had led to war on such a scale never before seen? What if a re-evaluation of our lives and existence had taken place. I planned to link this to the idea of greater tolerance and the idea that I should be able to live openly as a slave if I wish.

But events in Manchester on Monday kind of derailed my thoughts. Suddenly I found it almost impossible to write about what was really my own utopia. Death, injury, fear, hurt and suffering were at the forefront of my thoughts and so I abandoned my post. I am sorry I did, but not sorry that I still had to read everyone else’s blogs.

Reviewing and judging

There were 12 posts to review, but when I began the judging process I had already read 3 or 4. Of course I needed to go back and refresh my memory and then read the rest. I was impressed by the imagination and creativity that had gone into creating stories around the prompt. Not everyone’s writing was about life in 2517, but a significant number were.

There is such an amazing talent of sex bloggers who write fiction, and to think I had been skipping over their posts. There were also a number of off topic tales and personal reflective posts. The task of judging a top 3 was much harder than I imagined – I chose my top 7 and went to bed late on Thursday night. Friday morning I quickly re-read those and came up with my top 3, in no order. Went out to run a few errands and came back with a clear order.

These were my personal choice, no one else. I fully expect that if another person reviewed the same 12 posts they might come up with a different top 3 or in a different order. But I took my role in this seriously and stand by my own list.

Final thoughts

Most of us blog for fun, a few manage to make money doing it. But what I have learned is that we do take the business of writing seriously. Some of us find writing easier than others, but there are some seriously talented people out there. I feel privileged to have been invited to judge Wicked Wednesday. It took a whole evening and a little more from my life, but it was worth it.  I take my hat off (well would if I were wearing one) to people like Marie who run memes like this every week. They put an enormous amount of work into helping people like me blog. I encourage anyone reading this who blogs to take part.

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.

The sad world in which we live

Just over a week ago, while driving over to a cinema close to Master’s home, I listened to the inauguration of the 45th president of the USA. Having observed the way in which Trump rose in popularity over the past couple of years and then was elected, I was interested to hear what he would actually say. Being the even minded person I am, I thought that his words could be taken one of two ways, that overall perhaps the measures he proposed would be good for the country or else they would be very very bad. I had a hunch that his idea of putting America and Americans first would be less good for everyone else. It turns out that they probably won’t be brilliant for many of his own population either.

Whatever the long term effects of policy on healthcare (which seems to involve dismantling what is there without a clue as to a replacement), on abortion and women’s rights, on human rights, on creating jobs by building pipelines and roads, on walls along borders or immigration. It seems to me that Trump wishes to control peoples lives, he wants to stop free speech and perhaps free thought. He wants to instil his beliefs in others, never mind whether they are based on misinformation, lies or bigotry.

Now apparently you can’t visit, or return to the USA if you are from a list of countries where the main religion is islam, and probably you would be wise not to try visit if you are moslem anyway.  Apparently people’s political and religious beliefs are being reviewed by border immigration through social media contained on their phone. This kind of thing will probably spread to other visitors or even Americans returning home, whether Moslem or not.

Discrimination breeds fear and bigotry. It makes people intolerant and it causes people to lash out against each other. People become angry, they group together and convince themselves and each other that they need to lash out and to kill. My son was born during the first gulf war. I remember watching the news at night, while pregnant and wondering what kind of world I was bringing him up in. People were dropping bombs and missiles on each other, ordinary people as well as those in the military were held hostage. Death and destruction abounded. During those pre- 9/11 days we thought this was the worst it could get.

How wrong we were. It seems to me we have learnt nothing from the world wars of the 20th century, or anything that has come along to test us since. We are intolerant of the difference of others, and rather than try to understand we lash out and we kill.

I wish I felt positive about the next 4 years of the Trump presidency, but I don’t. If he believes that a country can prosper on the back of hate and bigotry he is wrong. If we think we are safe because we live across an ocean from America and can avoid the consequences, we are wrong.

Earlier this month, Master and I were in Belgium. For the first time, I visited the area where some of the first world war battles took place. 100 years later this is a bleak and sad area, but an area where people are respectful of the past, of the suffering that occured and the sacrifice that took place. Where people fought because they believed they would defeat tyranny. Or they fought to defend their ruler and their country. The result was carnage and really there were no winners. It didn’t stop further war and it hasn’t stopped this sad world in which we find ourselves living.

Tyne Cot Cemetery 

 

Last post at Ieper

 

 

Langemark German Cemetery 

 

Looking back, looking forwards

From time to time I have a look back at what I might have written this week or month in previous years on this blog. This morning, prompted by a photo of my then very old and now deceased and Renault Clio’s odometer passing the 100,000 mile mark, I looked back on the Blog to this week in 2012.

I started to write a retrospective post, but struggled. Did I really want to look back an re live what I was feeling then? The negativity of that period shone through with abundance. My ex was a very negative figure in my life during that period, but actually so was S my so called Dom at that time. At the same time, I was given notice that I would potentially lose my job at the end of that financial year.

I did lose my job,  but the sky did not fall on me, I have a better, more well paid job now. S and I limped along for quite some time after, but if I look back on the blog posts at the time and subsequently it was clear to see that it would never work. At the time, it might have seemed that I was giving up 30 years of marriage for something that S would never offer me, and of course did not. As for hubby, well there was a whole lot of negativity to some, not least the weekend in Germany when it subsequently transpired that he met his now partner. Not that he has ever accepted to me that is what and who she is.

Sadly it is around Christmas 2012 that I can trace a change in my relationship with my son, who I had previously been so close to. I failed to understand that I needed to be open with him about the change in my relationship with his dad, but hopefully conversations since then have helped him to understand life is not quite that simple.

It was to be another year before Master and I encountered each other online and subsequently met in real life. But the signs of my need for this kind of relationship was there.

Whatever other mistakes I have made in my life, I know that while it is important to recognise where you have come from, it is much more important to understand where you are going.

Look back briefly, but keep your eyes on the future.

This weekend my son and his girlfriend started with us, as they prepare to move into their own home and I continue to prepare to leave, this our family home after over 25 years. It is time to look forward and not back. It is easy to reminisce but to be frank I don’t think I will be writing about the past too much any more.

Kneeling in your 50’s

One of the key things a slave does is to kneel to their Master, right? There are numerous, neigh thousands of pictures online showing submission in action; a slave kneeling.

Often He is clothed and she naked. There are specific positions that slave presents herself to her Master in, perhaps with her thighs spread, leaning back onto her heels, her hands rotated to expose the palms or else with her hands behind her head, so that He can see His property.

But what if kneeling in this way is something that you as a slave want to give your Master,  and it is what He wants to receive, but you both know that kneeling in such a way is nigh on impossible for more than a couple of minutes.

There was a time when my body was flexible, pliable and supple. There was a time when my life as a nurse hadn’t caused my back to become stiff and my knees to become sore. There was a time when I was young and slim and when my muscles where taught. Though I have to admit I have never been particularly fit and athletic there was a time when I was slimmer, fitter and more supple than I am now.

But in this new life of Master / slave I crave the ability to kneel. I want to be able to forget that my knees and thighs will ache. I want to be able to pretend my back won’t be stiff. I want to imagine that I can maintain the required position for longer than 2 minutes. But the reality is that kneeling for too long means it is difficult to get up, it means that afterwards I will walk like I am 100 not 54 and it means my back will be sore.

So, realism is the thing.  I can kneel for longer on a cushion than I can on the floor. I can sit at His feet longer than I can kneel. Plus I can sit next to Him and still suck His cock, I can sit next to Him and still submit.

My submission and slavery are not dependent on my ability to kneel for longer than 5 minutes, though I would love to be able to. When you are fifty something realism is something you both get used to. But you can still dream.

From segreti

 

Calmness

Life has been busy.

Work has been busy.
Sometimes my mum winds me up. Other people wind me up; namely my lazy younger brother and my ex (though thankfully not at the same time).
But what has occurred to me over the past few days, as I have taken time to reflect, is that I really am a much calmer person these days. I really don’t get particularly stressed or worked up. I would go as far as to say I am essentially a calmer person than I have ever been in my adult life.
Maybe it is age, or experience? Maybe though it is about me as a person who has let go of control of so much of her life that the things that remain feel less of a worry?
Don’t get me wrong, I have my moments. But to be frank, nothing winds me up in the way I could be guaranteed to get upset about before.
The constant presence of the collar and cuff remind me always that I am Master’s slave and that He has particular expectations of me. So often, sometimes without consciously thinking, I consider what He might think about my behaviours and actions. Some might think I am conditioned after over 2.5 years together, but I think it is more that I feel safe in this relationship. I feel wanted, loved, needed and desired. He has expectations of me and I want to make Him proud of me, of the person I am when we are not together. We are a team, we function well together and we help keep each other in check.
We have an understanding of each others needs and these days I am perhaps better at articulating when I need more control and He is better at recognising that need. At the same time I am better at recognising His needs in my service to Him.
We both recognise the need for more play time, more kink.  But this relationship isn’t about the kink, we are a Master and slave partnership. We install calm in each other.
We have travelled a long way and hopefully are months away now from being together full time. That thought fills me with more joy than I can say.

Friends and much more

Last year HornyGeekGirl started a meme, I stumbled upon it and some where along the line got confused and thought it was new. The prompt is above and I have written the post so its getting posted, better late than never!. I have to say that I love the quote (going to have to find out more about the author) and also the banner on which it sits – beautiful scene of wild flowers……

……………………………….
It wasn’t the first time I had arranged to meet a man previously only known to me on the internet. But this was different:
  • We hadn’t even spoken on the phone.
  • I didn’t know his first name until I asked him for it the night before.
  • He lived more locally than the previous encounter and therefore I must have known that there were more possibilities open to me.
  • I knew he was involved with someone else, though had little idea at the time of what their relationship was about.
  • I thought I knew about BDSM, about D/s. It turned out that I was about to find out much much more.

 

I was nervous, I expect he was too though we haven’t discussed that. What was clear to us both was there was something of a sexual spark between us which emerged during the time it took for us to consume one drink. I expect I spoke quickly and said too much, he was a good listener. As we finished our drinks, he suggested a walk.
It was cool and damp out, but not unpleasant and fresh air seemed a good idea. He took my hand and I felt the buzz of electricity between us. Soon after we stood in a churchyard and kissed for the first time, he touched me outside of my clothes. I throbbed for him. My life had inextricably changed in those few moments even if I didn’t know it yet.
Looking back on the past 2 years and 7 months I can see that I have changed as a person, that I am happier, more self fulfilled, more confident in myself as a woman and as a sexual being. I am his slut, his bitch and his slave. But also I am his friend and he is mine. We have a relationship based on openness and trust. The dynamic requires it but so does the relationship itself. I love this man, my best friend, my lover, My Master.

Balance

At the beginning of the year I decided that this would be the one where I sorted out things in the marital home and got it ready to sell. I spent time decluttering, but as the spring turned to summer very little of any significance happened. We went on holiday and had the most amazing time, we returned and we had something of a busy social life with nights out and weekends away. Suddenly it was August and we wondered where the year had gone.

For Master it has been the same, he said at the beginning of the year that he would refurbish his bathroom; we even went to a bathroom shop to take a look. He chose the one he wanted. He said he needed to declutter, ready for me to move in. The months passed, we made a couple of trips to the recycling centre and I helped with getting rid of some of the clutter – sometimes a person needs another to be assertive, even if they are their slave. But then life got busy;  holidays, nights out, weekends away. Then it was August.
During all of this something happened to the kink and overt signs of our M/s dynamic. We settled into a lovely routine, always had good sex, though less frequently perhaps than before. We were comfortable in our life, no problems, just not really kinky. Then it was August.
Finally in August we rediscovered our mojo for getting things done and also for our dynamic. We realised we needed to make an effort and to get things done. We also realised that relationships of all kinds must be worked at.
Today it is September, I can look back on August with pleasure and say we have had fun, but we have also got things done. I have cleared out the garden and am well on the way to being happy with what I see when I look outside of the window. I have started to get rid of things inside, and have begun to plan what I should keep and what should go. Master has been working on his house too, he has designed his bathroom though hasn’t quite as far as ordering it, yet. We have begun to discuss clearing his garage so I can store some things there after I move out of here. Today I have taken a day off and we will finish off repairing my shed and painting the fence, among other fun things.
Best of all we have revitalised the kink. There has been naked kneeling, CMNF evenings in the house, I have some kinky new things to wear and there is a sign of a task or two to come. We are still to get out to a club for play, and indeed haven’t played at home for a while. But he is clearly exerting his Master status over me his slave and I am happily getting on with being the best slave I can be.
As we move towards autumn I feel confident that we have a balance and are moving in the right direction.

Random stuff

This weekend we have made some significant progress towards being ready to sell my house. I hired a skip and Master and I spent yesterday mainly filling it with stuff from the garden. My ex was fantastic at moving and removing things but often anything that he didn’t want to put into his car and take away to the recycling centre he just dumped it into the garden. All of that stuff has been removed, along with any over hanging bush or tree. There is still time to add more stuff to the pile but already I feel closer to my final destination.

Last night I did something which in hindsight was stupid. I messaged Master’s former slave to ask if she was ok. What I received, after an affirmative response was something of a rant. Apparently He lied to her, He treated her badly, He only got divorced because it is me he is with now and not her (rubbish as his ex initiated it as I had already told her). The funny thing is that while message after message came through to my phone, I was busy elsewhere. Instructed to kneel before Him and take His cock in my mouth.  It was only this morning that I read back what she had written. I have now taken her off of my Facebook and messenger and won’t make the same mistake!

Kneeling at His feet last night, naked I took Master’s cock in my mouth and was instructed not to suck. Holding that wonderful organ in my mouth without sucking it in was difficult. But at those moments when His control over me is paramount I tend to follow instructions to the letter.

My compliance is less so when we are apart. I have a set of rules to follow, but don’t always comply. Why is that? Probably, I need that day by day attention, need to be made to focus on my role and purpose. That is just one of the reasons that I am concentrating on the job in hand, in getting myself ready to move in with Master.

Just one reason. I love the closeness we have now. I love that we can do things together.  I know that I want to be in the position that I can serve Him every day. I know that I am on the right path and Master is helping me get there.

It’s kind of scary

The Olympics started last weekend which serves as a reminder of just how long it has taken me to get to this point in my life. Four years ago I had been seeing S for a few months. I was living with the euphoria of a new relationship, my first for over 30 years and I was yet to have to face up to my actions. Life was good, but I was busily dancing around the reality of what I was doing. That I was doing to my ex what had previously done to me. He was oblivious and yet to meet the woman he now lives with, yet to lie to me about his whereabouts. I was happy in the illusion that things with S would turn into something long lasting, that he was the Dom I wanted and needed. It would be another 18 months before that relationship would finally end and I would meet Master.

Fast forward to now and life remains kind of scary, though in a different way. I have spent this entire year preparing to sell the house and move in with Master, but still I am not there. I procrastinate on a weekly if not daily basis. The goals I set myself 6 months ago for today are still not complete. I want to make this move, but it takes more energy than I sometimes feel I possess.

That final step is scary. It means giving up my home and moving to somewhere that while I am comfortable to exist in, is not somewhere I can yet call that place. Home.  A conversation with Master last night brought home to me that I am still not sure that moving in with him is what I truly want. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be with him every day, not just at weekends and holidays with the odd extra day and night thrown in. But giving up this new found independence, my own place, where I have space, solitude, even silence is proving hard to do. Plus there is the knowledge that I will be living in a home I don’t own and never will, a place that if something happened to him I might not be able to stay in (even though he has told me that he will make plans for that possibility.

But, perhaps speaking my fears aloud last night did some good. I have spent some of today with a new energy to sort through things and I know that I have already planned some of the things I need to do over the coming days and into next week.

This was never going to be easy, perhaps it shouldn’t have taken me this length of time to sort myself out, but I know that I am moving ever closer to what I need to do and where I need to be.

It’s just that, it really is kind of scary.