Shadows

Do you ever think you see something or someone in your sightline, turn around and realise that the thing or person is not there?

Just part of your imagination?

Perhaps a shadow.

A shadow of the person you were, of a person you knew and loved but who is now gone? A pet that you owned and is also gone?

I often stand in my kitchen, and think I see someone or something outside in the front garden. Afterwards I realise it was a shadow, caused by the way the sun moved across the garden rather than ever quite shining in. It is to do with the way the house is positioned and I know this.

But from time to time I have imagined I briefly witnessed the cat run across the garden, or someone walk down my garden path. But they are not real animals or people, they are shadows.

The cat died 4 or 5 years ago and people who I am not expecting rarely turn up these days, unless they are trying to sell something. Perhaps double glazing or religion.

But actually I like to imagine the ghosts of those lost are around me. Tribbles the cat (named by my son and often out of the house and seeking to come in) who died while his Master was away at university in the USA.  My much loved nan who died 17 years ago and who I swear after she was gone made some of my son’s toys make their electronic noise out of the blue.

Most recently my dad, who died two years ago next week.

Sometimes when I turn around I think I see him walking up the path. In the area because he has been to fit an outside light at someone’s house,  to put in a socket or 5 (he was an electrician) and who is hoping for a cup of coffee, a biscuit and a chat.

But sadly they are all shadows.

Or maybe not so sadly since those shadows bring the memories to the fore and that can’t be either a bad or scary thing. They are the shadows of our lives gone by, our memories and perhaps also of memories to be made in the future. They are something to be valued and enjoyed. Not a very wicked Wednesday, but one from the heart.

 

Choices

We all make choices everyday. When to get up, what to eat, where to go, what to say to others. We have control over our actions, the ability not to be late for work, the ability to eat healthily and to be kind to others. We don’t always exercise the choices we should and sometimes we get ourselves into positions whereby we don’t feel we have a choice at all.

I got myself into such a place over hubby. He cheated early in our marriage when my son was young and we were financially challenged. I faced the choice about our relationship – stay or go, stay of kick him out. But I struggled in the decision making process and believed that I had no choice. I hated the idea of telling others of his infidelity of making people hate him. I hated the idea of being left alone, of being a single parent. I hated the idea of being even more hard up financially than I already was, working full time and getting no where. So I made the choice to stay and keep the status quo.

At the time, I thought I had no choice and therefore had made no choice at all, but of course I did choose what to do. I thought he would choose to leave, but he didn’t. In truth we were as bad as each other.

I eventually chose to precipitate the end of that marriage, getting on for 20 years later and to be honest I probably made things worse for us both in waiting so long. But if I hadn’t waited I might not be where I am now. I might not have met Master and might not have discovered the depth of my submission and desire to submit to him.

Looking back I was always submissive, it is who I am. My difficulties in making choices, not because I can’t but because I really don’t want to, perhaps stem from this being my preference, part of my personality. Just as my desire to please and to care for everyone around me is part of my natural way.

But I did make the choice in the end. I faced everyone including a grown up son. I discovered that people thought no worse of me for making the choice and discovered that many people had thought I should be making that choice sooner. Most though never articulated their thoughts on my relationship with hubby. When people start to admit that they didn’t really like him after such a long time it feels rather odd. I guess they felt it wasn’t their business, not their choice to make.

This is a choice I made rather late in the day, but one I am pleased I managed to make in the end and one that led to me being able to meet Master. It has enabled us to choose each other. It enabled me to choose to be his slave and him to choose to be my Master.

 

 

Playing in a public place

There are a number of things we have done in a public place. I have often worn no underwear beneath my clothes when out, either shopping, visiting public places or perhaps eating in a restaurant. Most of the time I am oblivious to what people either notice or think. Personally I am of the opinion that people are so wrapped up in their own lives, or perhaps their phones to know or care what others do around them. Indeed I frequently climb over people on the train who don’t even know I was sitting next to them, so much are they absorbed by their phone or tablet computer! Master and I often observe others in the course of their daily lives and wonder if they even notice us. And not just because we are people in our 50’s and so invisible to younger people.

Anyway, I digress. The one thing that I haven’t done is to play and be played with in public. I have had sex in a public place, but unseen by public eyes. I have been touched up (frequently) in public, and as far as I know been unseen by anyone. I say as far as I know since no one has ever indicated otherwise or called the police.
We have spoken a lot about visiting a club and playing in public. This appeals to me on a number of levels. While Master has quite a lot of equipment, his playroom at home is restricted in size and range of larger equipment. But mainly when we play at home there is just us. We can’t watch others and they can’t see us. More than anything that is for me the next level of kink that I aspire to climb.
I own kinky clothes that would have more impact in a public place. I know people that I would love to see in a different arena from the local munch. I am an extrovert and I like an audience. But what I don’t know until I try is if I would like to play in a public place.
Would I be as keen for others to see me in pain, to whimper and protest. Would I want to admit that I am aroused by those feelings. Would I want to be seen by an audience in a situation that today I have only experienced in private?
Yes, actually I think I do.

Aspirations

There is so much about my life that I love, that I am happy with.

I love the freedom I have to do as I please, which happens to match up well to the things that Master wants. This is because we seem to be able to combine travel, culture and sitting around doing very little in equal measure. I also love the fact that we are able to communicate in a way that wasn’t always the case for me with my ex.
But who is the person I aspire to be, what do I want to be able to do and how do I most want to live my life?
Much as I love my job, it would be true to say that I find it a challenge to keep up the pretence of arriving each day and continuing to be as excited about it as I always was. I would like to be able to take breaks from work from time to time, to be able to go off and spend time travelling with Master. Doing the things we love to do.
The only way to achieve this goal is to get on and sell this house. So, because I really want this, I have begun my programme of getting ready for the sale. Master is definitely in the mood to keep me focused on getting these little projects done each week, as I am focused on getting him to de-clutter his bachelor pad for the arrival of me, his slave.
You see, we are both clear that we aspire to live together. We know that we have work to do to get to a place where we have the space for us both. He has promised me a room to put the things that are personal but which I don’t wish to put into storage. We have promised each other the space also to learn to live together and to be the people we want to be.
I want to be free to do as I choose. I need to free myself from the final confines of marriage to divorce and to separate our assets. My ex and I struggle to communicate and I recognise that in this relationship I need to dominate. Failure to do so means that nothing is ever achieved. So my particular aspiration right now is to get on and make that permanent separation happen.
I aspire to be the slave Master wants and probably needs. Once my house is sold I will have less need to work because I will have financial security. I will be able to work either fewer hours or work periodically and then I can be available to Master, to serve him as he wishes. We will be able to travel and do the things we both want. We will be able to export new places and experience new things.
We are people in our middle age. We know that we have achieved a great deal to date. We both have children and in my case a parent to think of, but we also know that we are at a time in our life where considering ourselves and each other is just, if not more important. I need to think of myself, but also to think of him. He does likewise.
We aspire now to have a good time. We aspire to be free to demonstrate the dynamic we have chosen for ourselves and for each other.
I aspire most of all to be his slave and to be free to demonstrate that I am his slave all of the time. I aspire to be free to be able to modify my body as we both desire, and to show that body to him as we wish.
But we do recognise that we live in the real world and that doing as we wish cannot always be achieved. So perhaps we just aspire to be left alone to be ourselves most of the time.

Mind and body

This post is inspired by this one by Geno Day. Turmoil of the mind and its effects on the body, and vice versa.

Generally these days I am a reasonably calm person. I say these days, because perhaps that wasn’t always so. For a period of time my life itself was in a state of flux as I worked through the decisions I had made to stray from my marriage and then to end it. Meeting Master occured during that time and I struggled to balance the various elements of my life as it was then with discovering my apparent deep seated need for submission. Times spent with him, meant learning to let go of my daily life, and embracing the new experiences he offered me. I learned to go for whole days and longer without considering my job or the other people in my life who had a call on me – the nearly ex husband, my son, my parents. Instead I learned to concentrate on me and on him, my Sir as he was at the time. We played quite a bit in those early days and through that play, I found out so much about my body discovering that by letting go of the turmoil present within my mind, something else took its place. A freedom in my head, the ability to allow my submission to build and to take its place. Perhaps though the turmoil moved to a new place; somewhere around my groin area.

Orgasms were for a long time a way of gaining release from the frustrations of my life and the marriage where I seemed unable to enjoy sex with my husband. The freedom that came with those orgasms were however short lived, momentary even. Meeting Master, however meant that things felt different. Sex was different, I enjoyed it, embraced it, loved it even. Orgasms were no longer mine to own, and in the main, he decided when they occured. Having that control removed, freed me even more, allowing my body to respond to him and my mind to focus on him. He trained my to respond to his command, counting me down from 5 or 10 or heaven forbid, 20. I found that by focusing on him and not on what the end result was to be meant that I was able to orgasm on his command. My body responded in a way that I would never have imagined.

Fast forward to now, just over two years into the relationship. Now his slave and his property, I am the writhing slut he wants and needs. My body often enters a state of physical turmoil towards the end of the count, as I fight to control it until it is time. My body writhes and reacts almost of its own accord as the physical conscious reacts with the unconscious. Fluid gushes from my pussy, demonstrating the physical arousal. My clitoris hardens and sounds emerge from my mouth as all of the emotions come together in climax. He loves  me to look at him as I cum. He loves to see my eyes shining and I love to see the power that he recognises in himself at that moment. As the turmoil passes, so I thank him for the gift of that orgasm. He owns them, but gives them freely to me and then he tells me I am a good girl.

Calmness returns.