What do you see?

Yesterday someone I have known since we were young student nurses together sent me a photo. In it I am around 18 or 19, young, slim and carefree. I can still remember being that person, and think I know what I saw when looking in the mirror back then. I have never been one to gaze at myself in the way people often seem to today. I use the mirror to check my hair, or to apply make-up (on the rare occasions I wear any). But I know that my face was unlined, I know that I possessed more freckles on my nose and face than I wanted to see. I know that my eyes were blue and I know that my nose was small and slightly upturned at the tip. This is still the case unlike the colour of my hair, which is no longer the shiny auburn it was then. No hair dye ever brings that colour back.

Mostly I feel the same as I did then. I don’t feel weighed down by the many years and experiences that have occured since then. Ok, so I have aches and pains that I never seemed to have then. My body is 37 years older after all. When I look in the mirror at myself I can still see that young girl somewhere, but she is much less visible. I wonder if I look the age I am, younger or older. It is so difficult to tell that about yourself. I think that I should dye my hair as there is grey growing at the sides and roots. I wonder if my eyes are less blue, though people tell me that when I wear certain colours it makes my eyes look really blue. Are my lips thinner and my face fatter? Probably.

But does any of this matter? I have a man in my life who tells me that I am beautiful. Who proclaims that when I orgasm I express pleasure through my face. A man who makes me laugh and with whom I am beyond happy. When I look in the mirror I see someone who is happy with their life. That is enough.

 

 

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

The mark

We have spoken so many times about me getting a tattoo. I know that he loves a woman with tattoos marking her body. In theory I love the idea too and want what he wants. But all along I have had a few worries. First is the fact that his former slave had a number of tattoos. Indeed she had his initials tattooed onto her leg at the very time they were breaking up. I caught both sides of that argument, but suffice to say it didn’t end well. Personally, no matter the dynamic of the relationship you must want this kind of thing for yourself as well as them. I think that another persons initials indelibly inked upon your body take some consideration. 

For me, well that is not the worry. I think I want symbols rather than initials on my skin. I have Master’s collar and cuff. I have the knowledge that I am owned. I don’t need his initials.

What then? I have been thinking of a butterfly.

A butterfly signifies the beauty of the natural world around us. It shows that as a slave while I want to show off and be proud that he is my Master I also want to settle down beside or on top of him. It demonstrates that while I could easily fly away I choose to stay close, safely by his side.

But also it shows that I am vulnerable and need protection. It seems that I am confident, but in actual fact I am not. I am anxious about the future and need his reassurance.

I am confident that we will get that tattoo. Another sign of his Mastership over me. But also of my freedom to express myself. Where though should that tattoo be?

I am thinking a breast, or buttock or perhaps somewhere else…………

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

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.

 

What is necessary?

In the first few days after I moved my blog to this new place I made a few schoolboy errors.  One of these was to accidentally delete all categories and tags I had dragged through. I guess that I could have resent all of the posts, but I decided not to. In all honesty I underestimated the sheer volume of work involved in reviewing nearly 5 years of posts. It was with enthusiasm that I embarked on the task, after all this is about my journey. But I reckoned without the emotional journey that it would send me upon.

I started by working back, but unfortunately during January and February I was experiencing a quiet blogging period. Except of course for February Photofest. So I tried going back to the beginning and in doing so, discovered a forgotten past. Indeed it was a past where, in an attempt to discover the submission I needed I allowed emotion to overtake good sense. As the weeks and months went on, back in 2012 I immersed myself into an alternative reality. One where I struggled with my marriage, while embarking on a relationship with a man who wasn’t what he seemed.

Frustration made me return to the end and work backwards. So far I have reached page 28 or 39, just before I met Master, a journey of 3 years. Journeying through times of love, travel and kink. Through the awful period when my dad was ill and subsequently died. Through too difficult experiences with my mum, her moods, illnesses and our relationship.

All that time my marriage has been drawing to its natural conclusion, a time much more protracted than should be the case. The number of times where I plan to tell him to get lost and that the house will be sold are too numerous to mention.

I have a plan to progress at speed. to label anything involving previous relationships as such. Some of that stuff I may never revisit again.

But just maybe this process has been useful, necessary. Perhaps it has helped me to see just how far I have travelled and how close I am to my goal.

Perhaps this was a necessary task.

I have a few days off. I am spending that time finishing off the decluttering and general preparation for the sale.

 

Looking back at our Eroticon weekend

When I left home on Friday to travel to Eroticon I had every intention of writing about it during the weekend. In fact, I ended up having very little time or energy for writing anything. I managed to complete something about our meet and greet experience and then to post a Sinful Sunday.

It has been a full on weekend, even taking account of the fact we took some time out to be on our own. I have been to so many work conferences where I go to everything, all of the time. This time, even though I could quite happily have attended every session, we chose not to. We both needed down time and since work is really so full on right now,that was the right thing to do.

We met lots of new people, and were able to put faces to blog or twitter names. In some ways I wonder if we took everything we could have from the experience. But this being our first experience of Eroticon there is nothing to compare to.

@writtenbyjenny has started a meme, inviting us to write about the ten things I took home from Eroticon. So here goes.


Ten Things I Took Home From Eroticon

  1. The chance to mix with other kink friendly folk – It is not often, you meet quite so many people with so much in common in one place. Munches can be great, but I often come away disappointed because I feel I have little in common with those present. At Eroticon our united desire to write for others seemed to cut through individual differences.
  2. The ability to meet new people  – A diverse range of people, all out to have a great time. Many people knew each other, but many more did not. Often people were known to me through blogs and twitter. Meeting those people in person is always interesting, and most often in a good way. Everyone was really friendly, but I do struggle to make the first approach.
  3. A recognition that I need to push myself to actually speak to new people – It’s funny, but Master and I are as bad as each other at this. I suspect that this is for different reasons too. He is an introvert who could probably sit all day in a crowded room without speaking to anyone. While I am an extrovert who finds it difficult to overcome my anxiety about opening my mouth until I know someone. We need to do better, I came away without actually speaking to too many people.
  4. I picked up new ideas and inspiration – I found the session by Ashley Lister on the process of plotting a story really interesting. I love process and a ‘how to’ list. Whether I will need to follow in its entirety remains to be seen, but I sense it will help. The blogging 102 session with Innocent Loverboy was great for the tips on topics. Also for the energy in the room.
  5. I Learnt about myself – Meg John Barker’s session on learning about ourselves through erotic fantasy was probably my favourite over all. I will continue to mull over her ‘zine’ and write more in the coming days.
  6. Lots of fun freebies – As other’s have said, the sponsors did us proud. Great mugs, a lovely book to write in, a chocolate and much more. I didn’t pick up my tee shirts though!
  7. New blogs and websites to track down and read – so many new places to explore and read. Hours of fun and reading.
  8. Learning about the law on erotica past and present – Kate Lister on the history of erotic writing and obscenity and Myles Jackman on current legal issues. Again I plan to write about both in the coming days.
  9. Conversation topics for the whole weekend – We missed a couple of sessions to just be on our own. To have a drink, to walk about Camden. We missed the Saturday social too and had dinner and an evening to ourselves. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t talk about what we had seen, heard and discussed in the conference.
  10. A feeling of satisfaction and a desire to return next year –  I really hope we can make it. For us any excuse for a weekend away, but we prefer to have something fun and interesting to do. Eroticon was definitely that.

One thing we might do differently 

We didn’t realise the first session was a panel. So when we walked in at the beginning, we sat near the back. This was a mistake as the panel’s voices, even with a microphones didn’t carry well. Master has hearing problems and could only hear every 4th or 5th word. This led to us leaving early on Sunday as I was pretty sure that he would get frustrated at not being able to hear. I am a little sad, as I think it would have been great to hear people read out their work. But, I do plan to pick up a copy of the Anthology from Amazon as I didn’t manage to pick on up while there.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Life begins

They used to say that life begins at 40. I beg to differ. Over the last year of my 30’s I lost weight in a vain attempt to make myself feel something special about the coming decade. Often though I would look in the mirror and see the same unhappy, often asexual being, someone while 2 stones lighter looked no more attractive. Well that was how it felt to me. A great birthday celebration was planned, and while the family came together and my husband arranged a lovely meal and surprise hotel stay I was suffering from food poisoning. Something I had picked up on holiday the week before.

As my 40’s wore on I had the feeling there was something missing in my life. My marriage, which looked happy on the surface felt like torture. I was deeply unhappy. In 2009 when I was 47 my son went off to university. Although happy that he had been able to follow his own dream, I felt the empty nest he left behind intensely. I looked at his father, my husband of over 25  years and wondered how much longer I could keep up the facade. In the late summer of 2011, just after my 49th birthday my son travelled to the US to spend an academic year abroad. Little did I know that by the time my next birthday had arrived I would have found my kinky and sexual side.

50 was a turning point for me. Suddenly  I was brave enough to put myself first after years of prioritising anyone else but myself. I followed my gut instinct and tried something new. Yes, I took a risk but it paid off for me. The end result is the life I have now and the one I will have in the future.

I am now 54 and have never been happier and people tell me I look it . I have managed to find a balance between family and what I need for me. I have a new man in my life who offers me the fulfilment I never even knew I needed.

50 is a massive milestone in life, most people are over half way through their life. It is a time when we must face our own reality as we begin to lose people around us, including perhaps our parents (I lost my dad in my 50’s). It is also a time of hope as our children grow and become independent. A part of my life began in my 50’s, and hopefully will continue into my old age.

Finally I want to wish Marie Rebelle, a happy 50th birthday. Things might be more difficult that she would like right now, but I know that her 50’s will prove to be the continuation of a wonderful journey of discovery and self fulfilment. Happy Birthday!!

Happy Anniversary

My 54+ years have contained highs and lows. In the main, the highs win over the lows. I am a half full rather than half empty person. I enjoyed a happy childhood with loving parents who tried to give us all that they could and two great but highly irritating brothers. Generally they hardly knew when they were well off – a sister who looked after them, ate their food to allow them to get down from the table, wrote their thank you cards post Christmas, told mum when they had hit her…….well maybe not that, but anyway.

My marriage was mainly positive despite his unfaithfulness, general inability to provide for his family and to make decisions. Plus the fact he was entirely absent during the first 3 years of my sons life. I guess that being a mother has been the main part of my life, before I met Master, when I have felt fulfilment. I make no excuse for saying that my greatest achievement in many ways has been producing and bringing up my son. He made me laugh when I was sad, he made me cry for mainly good and proud reasons. I am beyond proud of the young man he is now.
But when it comes to love and personal happiness the past three years top everything.
On 1st February 2014 I met the man who is now my Master. We had only been chatting online for a week but something about our interactions (plus the fact that we lived within 45 minutes of each other) made us decide to meet up.
The rest is history.
There is a lot I could write here, but much of this blog details our journey, the highs and the lows, not that there are many lows even if you were a half empty person which Master is and I am not.
Today, day 1 of February Photofest 2017, I am posting a photo that Master took of me waiting, ready for his use. Something that demonstrates the highlight of the life I now live as Master’s owned slave.
                  

 

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!

 

 

Anticipating the year to come

Just over a week into the new year, and our holiday to Belgium behind us I am now thinking about the year ahead. While I am not necessarily a person who wholly believes in things like numerology, horoscopes or other things psychic,  I do kind of want to believe the idea that 2016 was the year of endings and 2017 about a new start.

It is coming up to 5 years since I began my original journey, over 4 since my ex discovered that I was not the happy bunny he thought I was and almost 3 since I met Master. I think the length of time that has elapsed is enough to know that the procrastination needs to stop and I really do need to get on with life.
Increasingly I feel sad when Master and I have been together for a prolonged period and then have to separate and go to our own homes. This week is no exception. I want to be with him, and need to get on with making that happen. During the second half of last year we completed quite a lot of work in my house and garden, all in preparation of my selling the house. There is now very little to do before the house can go on the market. I anticipate that the process will not be without its stresses, and don’t under estimate the sadness I will feel when I leave. My house is less cluttered that Master’s place. He is working on making it less so, but there is a way to go. Then there is the fact that the house will be his and not mine, though of course there is no reason that it won’t become home to me, but it will take time.
BUT.
Living together will mean that we can get on with living our life together in the way we wish. That our Master / slave dynamic can become a greater element of our lifestyle. It will mean that I can express my submission more overtly and he can do the same with his Dominance. Master has bought me many erotic items of clothing that I get little opportunity to wear because of our current living arrangements.
We will be able to have more sex. As we get older, we need more time for sex, our libido in general has dropped. While the idea is often great our bodies sometimes take longer to respond. Don’t get me wrong we pretty frequent, kinky and very enjoyable sex, but we are definitely restricted by not being together every night.
There is an economic perspective to this too. Living costs for 2 people are much less than double that of 1. That means we can visit more places, do more things and generally enjoy life.
Finally we will be happier together than we are apart and happiness, contentment and a feeling of well being is much healthier. If I think back 5 years I don’t think I even knew how unhappy I was, much less how content I could be.
Just before Christmas, Master and I went to a drinks party at the house of one of his neighbours. He made a comment that when he sees Master on his way into town he often has a smile on his face and appears happy. That, he said, wasn’t always the case.
I anticipate a great year ahead. I think we both do.

New Year Sex

This post was written on Monday, for Wicked Wednesday, however, I am currently without WiFi and am also unable open Rebel’s page. So am just posting it as an ordinary blog.

It was icy on Friday morning. Unusually I was working, but wanted to check into my slimming club to make sure that my festive weight gain was kept in check. As I dashed out after weighing in I went flying and landed flat on my back. I picked myself up and, slightly dazed walked a little gingerly to my car. There was no serious damage however, other than to my pride and luckily there weren’t many people around.

By early yesterday morning however, I was experiencing the full after effects – pain and stiffness in my back which while not acute was a little debilitating. In effect I struggled to turn over in bed and when I tried to sit up my tummy and back muscles decided to rebel. I was feeling about 90; what a start to the new year!
Master decided a back rub was in order and so I rolled onto my tummy and he began his work. He has a wonderful way of touching and massaging which is both relaxing and erotic. When you also have seriously knotted up muscles it is like you have gone to heaven. I could have laid there all morning. Suddenly he disappeared, returning with the magic wand. Applying it to my lower back and then gradually moving it around I settled down to enjoy the experience. Gradually my muscles seemed to relax and the aches and pains subsided (not that I had actually tried to move at that point).
Having finished this task he then decided to place the wand in between my legs. At this point I did roll onto my back and opened my legs to accept the wand onto my pubis and as close to my clitoris as I could get it. All discomfort in my back subsided as I felt myself growing wet, juices flowing freely. He counted me down an orgasm and even though he removed the machine before reaching 1 there was no stopping me. He asked what I wanted now, and I said “your cock”. He said that he would really like to take my arse, but felt that would be unkind as it would more than likely hurt. I was sorely tempted to offer it anyway, but knew there would have been little pleasure in it for me. He thrust into me as I lay in the missionary position and I wrapped my legs around him. He talked to me about the control he has over me and of the excitement he feels to be my Master.
I could feel myself creaming in a way that I don’t so often these days – blame the menopause – and for him that was even more of a thrill. He exploded into me soon after. Rather than settle into bed as he often likes to after sex he disappeared downstairs. Reappearing with two glasses of bucks fizz. Clinking glasses we wished each other a happy new year.
New year morning sex, a great start to 2017!