Progress – Week 6 & 7

I delayed writing this week because of my oncology appointment, which took place on Wednesday. My assumption was that I could detail the treatment plan here. Unfortunately not (see below). But there has been plenty of progress. 

Physical recovery

Over the past two weeks my recovery really has gathered pace. The wound has now completely healed and the swelling is reducing. For the past almost 7 weeks, I have been walking around with what felt like a cushion under my arm. It would swell during the day and reduce a little over night. Now though that has improved a lot. The past 2 weeks though, I have been getting shooting pains at the top of my arm, just above the armpit. My oncologist reassured me that the reduction in swelling is causing this. The nerves which had been compressed are jumping to life, and this is exactly what it feels like. 

Oncology appointment 

As I mentioned above, the oncology appointment was on Wednesday. After surgery a small sample of the tumour should have been sent to USA for analysis. This test predicts the likelihood of recurrence. For some reason, it was omitted, so no result and therefore no treatment yet. If the likelihood of recurrence is high I will need chemotherapy and this must be done before radiotherapy. This is very irritating as I want to get things done and over with. The doctor wasn’t best pleased either because it delays things. Plus he spent 20 minutes chasing results that didn’t exist.

The up side is that I get to enjoy Christmas with no worry about treatment. But it does prolong the uncertainty. I can’t control it, so I don’t plan to worry (too much).

Body image

Since the operation I have been wearing a soft cushion thing in my bra. They call this a stuffy. It gives some shape, but rides up and definitely isn’t the same size as my remaining boob. 

Yesterday I went to be fitted for a silicone prosthesis. It is larger, a better shape and is the same size as my left boob. It weighs a pound (yes, it has been on my kitchen scales), but you don’t notice it once it is in the bra. 

For this procedure I had my bra size measured. It may come as no surprise to find that I have been wearing the wrong size bra, probably for 20 years or more. So, rather than a 36D apparently I am a 42C!!!! Funny thing is, a 42 bra doesn’t seem much looser than a 36. The world of bra measuring seems weird and further investigation is needed. Plus hopefully weight loss!

Over all, I am feeling better about myself. I am used to the way I look and feel. I don’t exactly love the look of myself but it is who I am for now. For that reason, I will be sharing photos soon. I just need them to look as good as they can and the lovely Molly has offered to help me with that. There is no one I would rather have to photograph the new me. 

Playtime

Note – I didn’t’ read the prompt properly and so while I can be playful, this is about something else. 

We don’t so much have a play box, but a whole room. It’s called the play room (no lack of imagination here). It is the first room in the house I saw (other than the hallway and stairs). We played the day after we met.

I’m sure the rule book of BDSM says you should take more time to get to that stage. A strangers house, the day after you meet. But, it seemed right and anyway it was a while ago now (5 years in February). 

That Sunday afternoon was the first time I had been played with in such an intense way. Restrained, blindfolded, gagged. I discovered just how much I am turned on by impact play. How much my body can be stimulated by a variety of sensations. Our fate was probably sealed that day.

Toys, large and small

The playroom is full of equipment, large and small. Collected over a number of years, by someone who loves to shop online and in person. The largest thing is the swing and appeared soon after our first trip to CMnf. There’s one at that club and someone we met there raved about it. We didn’t try it out then, but one soon appeared at home. To begin with, it’s a little scary as you are suspended (probably naked), arms, legs and bottom supported by slings. Once you stop worrying about falling it is great fun. 

As you can see it provides open access for play with other implements and also sex. Sad to say we haven’t used it much. But it would probably be a good way for us to play while I am still recovering because I doubt I could manage my arms being restrained at the moment. Particularly above or behind my head. 

Other toys include the fucking machine (also not well used) and the violet wand which is an evil toy. I love the sensations it produces in me, but struggle with the concept of electrical play. If I’m blindfolded though, I am able to relax into it. Master also owns a large number of impact toys plus things that can be inserted into orifices. Dildos, plugs, vibrating toys and a zipper. In fact, if it has been invented and is safe and available, it is probably in our play room.

Getting back to play

Since I moved in during the summer the playroom has been a bit of a store room. Mind you, most rooms in the house are currently storing a box or 3. We have been talking about getting the playroom ready for some fun again and writing this post makes me want to do that. 

Time to get back on that swing again and have some fun. 

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

Being thankful

This week’s Food 4 Thought Friday prompt pays homage to Thanksgiving which was on Thursday. I am increasingly aware that I have so much to be thankful for. It would be so easy to wallow in self pity about what I don’t have rather than recognise what I do. So, here goes.

Our relationship

Last night in bed, Master asked me if I am happy with life now we are living together. The answer to that was a resounding yes. Even though we have spent a lot of time together over the past few years, moving in was a big step. We get on far better than I even hoped. We are good at giving each other space, but at the same time enjoy each others company. Our sex life is really good and now we have the time are having more of it. 

Master has been a massive source of strength to me over the past few weeks. When I returned from theatre after my surgery he was waiting for me. At that moment, I knew I loved him more than ever and that I could rely on him. Even when things are tough we will definitely be supporting each other. 

Family

My son has gone through a lot this year and has shown himself to be a caring and resourceful man. I am so proud of the person he is. He is now 27 and of course a proper grown up, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need the help and support of parents and girl friend. He was there for me on the day of my surgery and on the phone frequently checking in. At the same time, he has supported his dad, grandad and uncle through some awful times. Sadly my ex’s brother died a couple of weeks ago after a long battle with motor neurone disease. His dad had a stroke a few weeks before that. On Tuesday, I will join them to say good bye and provide my support to them all. All of this makes me thankful that I have my health. Because even though I am being treated for cancer, it has been removed and I will recover. 

Time

I am thankful that I was able to give up work at the end of August. This means I have had the time to recover. When I finished work I was beyond tired. We are convinced that the events of this year – mum moving, me moving etc. contributed to making me susceptible to cancer. 

I am grateful that I haven’t had to take time off work or worry about no one doing my job while I am away. Also that we can spend time together and enjoy the freedom of not working. while I will be looking for work in the future, this won’t need to be permanent or full time. I know we are lucky to be able to do this, and am grateful for both of us having worked hard in the past to make it possible. 

It is really easy to get caught up in negativity, so it is useful sometimes to write about just positive things. For that, I am also grateful.

Ready (or on display again)

I don’t have anything new for this week’s Sinful Sunday. But I do have lots of photos from the past that people might not have seen. This post from February Photofest 2016 contains the picture below. This link is timely, as I saw a tweet from Molly yesterday about February Photofest 2019. Master and I need to get snapping to be ready, because I am definitely joining in this coming February. 

Sinful Sunday

#SoSS November 2018

It is a very long time since I wrote a #SoSS. It isn’t that I don’t read and comment on other blogs, I do. But I am not so good at getting my shit together to work out which ones I want to share. Let alone writing about it. But in an attempt to start my new years resolutions early I’m planning to write one each month.

It was reading this post of May’s about shadow banning that prompted me. When I was shadow banned, it irritated the hell out of me. Lately though since I have other things to worry about it had all slipped my mind. I’m picking up new followers so I don’t think I am on the banned list right now. I shall make a point of sharing more posts on Twitter though so that they get seen. 

This week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt was writing, it was great to read about everyone’s writing and blogging history. I particularly loved Modesty’s post (and accompanying photo), and hadn’t realised she had published her Modest Diaries. They certainly seem worth a read. Also worth checking out is Floss’s post. Not only is she a wonderful writer of fiction and non fiction, she is also a poet. I am in awe of the talent that is out there amongst our blogging community. 

On the theme of writing, the Smut Marathon reaches the final voting round tomorrow. I haven’t written any fiction since the round where I got knocked out. The monthly assignments certainly made me get on with writing and I know my style and content improved over time. Marie will be running the competition again next year (as she tells us in her #SoSS today) and entries open quite soon. I am undecided as yet whether to enter. But I will give it serious consideration. 

when I write these blog sharing posts, I try to include something new. I didn’t so much find The happy Kinky Couple, as they found me to ask to swap links, which I am happy to do. They are a couple, like us in their 50’s who found kink relatively recently and have just begun to write about it. Their blog can be found here – go have a read. 

Finally I would like to thank everyone for the support you have given me over the past couple of months. Discovering I have breast cancer is the definitely the worst thing that has happened to me and to us. The love and support from fellow bloggers and twitter folk has been a great help. I plan to continue to write my weekly diary. It is important for me to be able to describe the physical and emotional effects. But also, as many people have said it may help others in the future. This is the link to the posts (if I can’t self promote on my own blog, then where can I)? I don’t know if people are ready to see my new body, but I am almost ready to share. But that will be on another day. 


Elust #112

Elust 112 Header Cara Thereon naked on the sofa

Photo courtesy of Cara Thereon

Welcome to Elust 112

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #113? Start with the rules, come back December 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!  

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Broken Idol So Your Partner Has Feelings for Someone Else Vagina, vag-OWW-NO

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Responsibilities of erotic fiction characters Pause on Red

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Hell for leather *You really should consider adding your popular posts here too* All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!  

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Relax Baby…We Got This. Harry Potter Cured a Phobia My Abuser Gave Me I didn’t mean to write this.

Erotic Fiction

Tied Up Tuesday Andromeda Scattered Lilies My Eyes Adored You Marks caught in his web Oh what a tangled web… A Fine White Thread The Doll’s Face The Cold Breath of Night …and Pause

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Men should STFU

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

One decision from a totally different life. The changing nature of my submission

Erotic Non-Fiction

Feathers Hmnh. Well, that was different. Mid-Locktober Confessions/Punishment

Poetry

-16.10.18_00:59-

Blogging

Blogging and me

Writing About Writing

Rage & happies, #dommelife   Elust

Writing

I have always enjoyed writing

When I was 8 I was entered into a writing competition at school and won a good called ‘Mrs Cockle’s Cat’ for my troubles. I had a vivid imagination as a child, and preferred to create my own fiction, rather than keeping to exactly what the teacher might have wanted. So much so, that in a music competition at aged 11, I made up a tune rather than follow the one on the page in front of me. I found my own life dull and so also told ‘tales’ of a more exciting existence. At some point during my secondary school years though I realised I had to start to be truthful and also produce the work requested. But that didn’t stop me and a friend writing romantic fiction about the boys we fancied. But we restricted our activities to evenings and weekends.

Once in nursing school

My life became about writing patient notes and reports, plus of course essays and course work. There was little time to continue creating fiction and anyway I had my own boyfriend by then. Plus nursing friends with interesting relationships and patients who led fascinating lives (well one or two of them did). My writing was forced to take on a factual side and what’s more it could no longer be based on my opinion.

Some time in my early 20’s I began to write fiction again. As before, I wrote in longhand in notebooks. This time, given that I was already married but bored with the long hours my husband worked, the romance became a little more raunchy. Sex had been a bit of an anticlimax in my own reality and so I became creative on the page. Looking back it is amazing that I was able to write such erotica given my lack of experience. Remember that back then, there was no access to the wealth of information we have today. Mind you at least I was aware of anatomy because of my nursing experience. Once I had my son there was little time for writing for pleasure. I was soon back working full time, studying for a degree and looking after him. My hands were full enough.

At some point in the 90’s we got ourselves a computer in the house

Soon after I found myself helping my son to create his own website about his favourite cartoon characters. I impressed myself, as well as him when it actually worked. Not long after that I discovered blogger and began my first blog. This was based on my work, by now nursing management. I wrote mainly opinion pieces and some that were researched as well as a kind of academic diary. In fact, I later used the blog as the basis for my reflective practice aspect for the Masters I was studying at the time.

My work over the past few years has involved a lot of writing – reports, papers, proposals and the like. Some long and in-depth. I have enjoyed constructing them, though not always the deadlines. But it feels as if the creativity I once had is somewhat buried beneath facts. My attempts at writing fiction on this blog while well received haven’t been easy to produce. I have much more time to write the things I want to now. So, perhaps it is time to rediscover the imagination I know I had as a child. What I won’t do though, is to stop voicing my opinion. This is my blog and I can write whatever I wish.

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

The new me

The new me is really the old me. I have lost just a small part of my body, not an arm or a leg. In terms of body mass or weight it is nothing. But when it comes to the impact of the removal of a breast it feels enormous. Breasts are not sex organs as such, but for a woman they are important elements in the act of sex. My nipples were always very sensitive and I loved to have my breasts touched. To experience that connection to your cunt, the enlarging of your clit and a flow of moisture from within is wonderful. Of course, I still have one nipple and one breast. The connection is still there and when he nibbles or sucks my nipple the reaction is the same.

Learning to love the remains of my breast

I want him to touch the area around my scar now it is healed. I know Master found it daunting, he was frightened he would hurt me. What’s more it took longer to heal than we expected. Fluid found its way out from the suture line and a dressing was required, right up until yesterday. He strokes me gently, running his fingers across and it feels pleasant.

There seems to be no sexual connection from that area and my cunt now. The breast tissue has been removed, but there is feeling. Along most of the scar line now, the sensation is normal. But under my arm the flesh feels as if it belongs to someone else. What’s more, there seems to be more of it than there was. The nurse told me that it’s because the breast previously held it in place. I’m not sure it can be toned through exercise or lost through dieting. Neither of those ever work on the exact areas you want them to.

Over the weekend I developed some weird and not pleasant pains in my right inner arm. It feels like the numbness is subsiding and in its place over sensitive nerves. They are quite the worst pains I have had over the past 5 weeks. But they are short lived, momentary even and happen at the oddest moments. When I stretch my arm our, when I lean forwards, when I try to lie on my right side. Not every time I do those things but often. This is making me a little irritable right now.

Diet, exercise and fitness

There are a host of exercises that I am meant to be doing to make sure my arms are mobile. As I lift them up to my head and above, there is a tightness on the right side, a pulling. The sudden jolting pain is new, but localised and definitely not muscular. I have a hunch I need to increase, not reduce the exercises and so I am trying that. I want to be able to go swimming, I think that would help. But since my scar is still a little vulnerable, I won’t do that yet. So I will try exercising my arm in the bath.

Over the past weekend we stepped up exercise levels in general. The weather was glorious; beautiful crisp sunny if cold days and no rain. We walked miles around London and only took public transport a few times. Walking is great for me and something I need to do daily, a challenge in winter but something that can be done.

Our other source of exercise has been sex and lots of it. That he feels horny most mornings and wants to have sex with me is making me feel good about myself. My mood is pretty good and I feel positive. He tells me how much he wants and needs me and has me tell him how much I want and need him. That affirmation is an important element of our M/s  relationship and also part of this healing process for us both.

Finally to diet. I am making the changes previously mentioned, though sticking to them is proving challenging. Mainly because in trying to eliminate one thing you can easily find yourself eating something else almost as bad. Plus over the weekend I ate more cheese than I maybe should have. However I am on the right track as I have lost 3lb over the past 2 weeks. A long way to go to get to a healthy weight but progress none the less.

Next week I see the oncologist and then we can start to plan. The radiotherapy of course, but Christmas and perhaps a trip to some warm weather in the new year.

In view

This has been a wonderful weekend, spent in central London. We are staying in our favourite London hotel. We have walked among the tourists and in the quiet back streets. Enjoyed lovely food and wine. Sat at the hotel bar eating cheese while someone argued over their bar bill. We attended the viewing of a silent film about the first world war in a museum.

Today was a crisp and sunny day and the view from our room shows that. We are only on the third floor but I doubt anyone one was looking up while this photo was taken. Well who knows?

Sinful Sunday

Power through control

He likes to exercise control over me and all aspects of his and our life. This really is who he is. While he will do things at my suggestion, I know he likes to come up with ideas first. Through the control he has over me, I know he feels power. He tells me that when he controls me he feels his domination and my submission. Sometimes, in the right situation this power arouses him sexually and in turn it does me too. 

It’s funny because in the past I hated to be out of control. To have others tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. Indeed in a work situation I can still get a little tetchy if I think someone is trying to control me. But over the last (almost) 5 years I have willingly given control to him. I have consented to be his slave and to allow him to make decisions on my behalf. 

There are 13 other posts on this blog labelled in the category of control. Most were written in the first year or two of our relationship. At a time when I was learning about my needs and of course his. Then I thought about control a lot. Recognising for the first time that there was no need to micromanage myself and everyone else around me. The key thing I recognise as I write this post today, is how far along this journey I have travelled. 

So often now, I don’t even worry about decision making. I just expect him to take the lead. He books concerts and theatre trips and puts them in the diary. He makes suggestions about places we might go and before I know what has happened we are on our way. Hotels are booked, sightseeing organised and quite often I just turn up, guide book in hand. But the strange thing is, it doesn’t feel like he is doing anything different or odd. There is no malice involved, just a desire to be the one that decides things. And I am pretty happy to just let that happen. 

In bed he willingly takes the lead. It isn’t that I can’t or don’t want to, but he just does it. Telling me to get on my knees can be so powerful, for us both. When he comes up behind me as I am standing at the window or in the kitchen and lays his hands on my shoulders or hips. I can feel the control he has over me, a physical and emotional thing. Something I can almost see and which I always know is there. 

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