As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, this year’s birthday provided some unexpected treats. One of the main one’s being tied to our hotel bed and used for Master’s pleasure. Read about the day and weekend here.
To be frank I’m pretty much living my best life right now (well I was before the dreaded lurgy arrived). That’s not to say I can’t look back at some fabulous halcyon days before this relationship. August has always been a good time for me, it’s my birthday don’t you know, so I deserve to be happy in August. I think the best were when my son was young and we did family stuff with my parents, brothers and their families. But in terms of love and sex on a hot August day or night, the best will be now.
August tends to be the hottest and most humid part of the year in these climbs. Though the weather itself was consistently better in April and May, but that’s unpredictable in England. Forecasters tell us we would reach the canicular over this coming weekend and certainly yesterday was scorching. Yippee because we’re currently staying at a a country hotel for the weekend and I’ve been able to lounge around naked in our room, swim in the hotel pool and sip cocktails on the lanai. This birthday signifies a turning point in the year (hopefully) because it is our first trip away since March.
When we arrived on Thursday (which was my birthday) Master removed some strapping from his bag and promptly fed the two long ends under the bed. To these he secured cuffs for ankles and wrists. He isn’t known as gadget man for nothing. Later that night, after a cool bath he secured me to the bed and both teased and aroused me. So much so that even before the wand had done it’s job of bringing me to the storm of an orgasm the juices were tricking from my cunt.
Most of our sex takes place in the mornings, something I’ve spoken about before. In August that is probably just as well, because there is nothing like writhing around the bed deluged in sweat. We waited till this morning for that. After the heat of yesterday there is a cool breeze this morning. I could feel it through the open windows (this is sadly not a place with air conditioning but it’s a big old house). We haven’t had much sex lately, we just haven’t felt like it. But as soon as he opened his eyes this morning I could tell he was in the mood and so was I. Sometimes those spontaneous quickies are as good as the long and drawn out events. This was definitely one of those. As I sit here now 3 hours later I still feel the satisfaction of lasting arousal.
Today we have a small family gathering with my brother and partner, my son and his wife and my mum. There will be food (which I’m cooking) and a pleasant time in mum’s garden. Then we’ll come back here to the hotel for our final evening before going home tomorrow.
We’ll have a final cocktail of bottle of something cool and take a stroll around the grounds. Sadly there’s no lake, but there is a beautiful herb and flower garden. we’ll take in the tranquility, then retire to our hot room where hopefully sleep and perhaps more awaits. The events of recent months have made me appreciate this time away from home all the more.
Photo from Thursday will appear later for Sinful Sunday. This post is using the big sexy words for August and is also posted for The blog days of summer.
I’ve been thinking of making some changes to the blog for ages and ages. But somehow haven’t quite got around to it. As another month stretches ahead of me, with little to keep me occupied, I’ve bitten the bullet and started.
At the start my blog was called world of Joolz. This was the name I went under on chat sites and the name S called me throughout our relationship. Since I was trying to get away from being Julie the bored housewife etc, Joolz stuck. For a while.
When I met Master he named me His pleasing bitch. So when I made changes to my blog in 2014 that became it’s name. When I became self hosted that was the url I bought.
Today, I’ve changed the blogs name to MPB and I’m undecided about whether to change it right back. I had thought Master’s pleasing bitch was a bit of a mouthful but maybe MPB is too short.
My About Me page
I’ve completely changed my about MPB page. I’m not really on a journey any more, so it is structured in a way that I think acknowledges that. Next I have to decide how to deal with the actual ‘journey pages’. I think they are an important reference to the past 8 years so should stay in some form. But I plan to tidy them up a bit.
Since that fateful day in February 2018 when I accidentally deleted my blog I’ve had to rebuild much of the behind the scenes structure. (The photo above was taken the morning after). I will forever be grateful to Michael for retrieving most of the posts for me. But I had to go back and re tag and categorise everything as well as to re do the SEO.
Now, the time feels right to review some of that structure so things can be found more easily. This is going to be a bit of a chore, but it’s always fun to look back and see what you said and did at a given time.
One of the things I’m most keen to do is to organise easier access to my photos. That will be my first job after tidying the pages.
Theme and artwork
I plan to move to a magazine type theme very soon and to hopefully reveal new artwork. I’ve loved the photos at the top of the blog, but it’s time for a change.
All in all I’m pretty excited about doing all of this and am hoping it inspires my writing!
“Raise a glass to freedom, Something they can never take away.”
~ Lin-Manuel Miranda (“The Story of Tonight” from “Hamilton”)
Freedom is a concept I‘ve taken for granted all my adult life. Even when I felt at my most constrained by marriage or parenthood I always knew deep down I had choices. I worked and had something of a disposable income, though there was a time when I had immense debt. But still I worked a way out of that and managed to pay every penny back. Trouble is you don’t always recognise you have those freedoms and you certainly don’t see the restraints others exist under.
Right now I am extremely lucky. After almost 40 years of work I was able to retire two years ago on a pension that I could just about live on. However, I live with a man who is also retired and has enough put away and so we can enjoy a pleasant lifestyle. We don’t have to worry about having enough food and can shop wherever we want. Our freedoms in other ways are somewhat curtailed right now, but more of that later. But food poverty, or indeed any poverty at all aren’t something we have to worry about.
Yesterday I read this blog post by Jack Monroe (she / they). If you don’t know who Jack is go and read about her here. Struggling to house, feed and clothe her son she accidentally became a food writer and campaigner. The gist of this article is the assumption that poor people could help themselves if they bought basic good and turned them into healthy meals rather than buying convenience products. But actually it is harder to do so than you imagine. Meat, fish and vegetables aren’t necessarily cheaper to buy than items with everything put together. What if you don’t have the electricity to cook or a kitchen to call your own. What if you can’t afford a bag of potatoes and the shop doesn’t sell them as single items.
I didn’t really intend to write about Jack Monroe in this post. But I was so struck by the forcefulness of her arguments that I felt I had to include how poverty prevents freedom. This is something I can identify with because if I hadn’t had a job when I got into debt my choices may have shrunk to where Jack was and to a certain extent still is. I haven’t however forgotten the fear of not having enough money to buy the contents of my food basket.
People are quick to offer advice to others about how they can solve whatever perceived problem they have. To cry that all lives matter and that only women have a cervix (or whatever bandwagon they have jumped on this week). Listening to the voices of those who feel un seen and unheard is much harder. Instead judging others and assuming they had a choice is the flavour of the day.
2020 will go down for me as one of immense learning. I have tried hard to listen and to learn. To understand that people don’t wake up one day and announce to the world ‘I think I’ll become transgender’. Instead such decisions come after years doubt, confusion and anxiety about personal identity. A lack of freedom to express who they really are. I don’t think I even thought about that much before this year and I know I have a lot to learn too. Nor did I really consider that my personal challenges will never be the same as those of someone who is discriminated against because of the colour of their skin or because their name sounds foreign.
Master and I have struggled these past few months because some of our personal freedom has been removed from us. He is particularly fed up that no concerts are taking place, that there is no theatre or cinema to visit and that art galleries have been closed for months. His personal fulfilment comes through those channels as well as the ability to travel. He loves to go to London, see a concert, have dinner and a drink and maybe stay in a hotel. But as frustrating as that is, we still know how lucky and privileged we are. We have a comfortable home filled with books, DVDs and CDs. Plus we have Netflix, YouTube and the internet. We have indulged in nice food and wine from our own home.
We are lucky because we start from a basis of privilege. Thought that doesn’t mean we can’t complain about the things we don’t like about our life right now. However it doesn’t mean that we can’t learn about the lives of others, nor speak up when assumptions are made about those lives. If you are told it is cheaper to buy potatoes in a tin than fresh believe them. If someone tells you that they are being misgendered, being hurt by the careless words of others or that they are more oppressed than you then listen and believe them. And don’t try to make it about you.
I’m really happy about the No True Way prompt for this week, because I’ve never written about this topic before.
Dominants tend to be the “Alpha Male”, and that is why “Dom” is always spelled with a capital, while “sub” is always lowercase.
First of all let me say I am incredibly inconsistent when it comes to the use of upper / lower case. There was a time when I always capitalised dominant, sir, master etc. There was also a time when I used a lower case I to refer to myself. I guess at the start of my submissive journey I followed what I saw others doing and what I saw written in books. But over time I decided that it would be better grammar and writing practice to capitalise properly. But to be honest it depends on my mood and what I’m writing about.
Being in a submissive mindset
Way back when I was busy discovering my submission my world view was a little romantic. I liked the idea of having my very own dominant and being his submissive. Writing about my experiences was fun and sometimes very arousing. Part of that was overplaying the dynamic a little. Referring to him as Sir or Master helped with what felt a bit like role play.
When I met my now master he wanted me to refer to myself in the third person (as I wrote here). So, it felt right to capitalise him as Sir / Master and to refer to myself as this girl (lower case). Submission felt tangible to me, I wrote about almost being able to touch it. Some days I still feel like that. But at that time we really only saw each other at weekends and during the week I’d write about it. That kept me in my space and I wrote in the third person.
Over time I wrote about other things
Not just our relationship. So gradually I wrote in the third person less and also capitalised the dominant role less. However if I wrote about us and the things we had done I often reverted. Sometimes I still do.
It occurred to me recently that though I always refer to G as Master (or master) here it’s not something I always do in real life. We live together and are partners in many ways. The power exchange is always there, an undercurrent. But isn’t always overt even to us. Calling him Master here is a habit, but also helps to protect our anonymity, even if there are photos of us both on this blog.
I’m not precious about whether I or others capitalise or not
I’m not part of the grammar police, though I prefer correct spellings. I am happy to read blogs and books where the words sir and master are capitalised, or not. I recognise my own inconsistencies and make no excuse for them. I’ll continue to do what I feel is right on any given day. After all, this is my blog and I’ll write what I want in whichever way I choose.
This post is linked to two memes. No True Way and The Blog Days of Summer. Click below to see who else is joining in.
A wooden spoon can be used for lots of things. Making cakes, fixing stuck plugs holes and providing a pink bottom. I don’t mark easily, so Master was quick to take a photo of his handy work. I trimmed the image a little and hope it fits in with the August Sinful Sunday prompt.
Click on the lips to see who else has joined in this week. I am going to try to post more this month, a lot more. So I’m joining in with Violet’s Blog Days of Summer. Click below to find out more.