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I am, because we are

It is a coincidence that as I walked home yesterday I was thinking about this topic. Wondering about who I am now as we enter the 7th year of our life together. Wondering whether I am worthy as his submissive and partner. I came to the conclusion that we are where we are because of who we are, together. So, some background.

Last weekend was the 6th anniversary of the day we met in person. This year we celebrated by going out for dinner. We often eat out, but usually it’s because we are doing something away from home and dinner out is easier. This was a meal out for itself.

Today I received notice that the first part of my divorce, the decree nisi will be heard in court in March. 6 weeks and one day later I will be divorced. My entire blog catalogues my own journey to this point. In many ways I am the person I was at the beginning, but of course events have changed me. Plus taking on the role of slave and starting a new long term relationship has added to that.

The person I was

Confused, probably sums it up. As I approached my 50th birthday I knew change was needed. My life wasn’t going as it should and I wanted something different. Trouble was I didn’t know what that different was or how to go about getting it. I consider my self lucky that the two men I met along the way helped guide me towards discovering what that might be. The fall out from my ex was hard to bear. Last week while reading some old posts from 2013 to link to my privacy post I came across some very disturbing writing.

My husband was playing me. I know that now since at the time he was already in another relationship (still unknown to me). But meanwhile he manipulated me and made me feel I was beyond dreadful for cheating on him. He made me sleep deprived by turning up early in the morning and then he snooped through my emails and was generally horrible. All the time I cooked meals for him if he decided to be home. Made sandwiches and did his washing. YES, I actually did those things. I was a complete doormat. I now know I should have kicked him out and changed the locks. But that’s with the benefit of hindsight.

The person I am

From the beginning of my relationship with Master things changed. He listened to me and helped me work out how to navigate the way ahead. I didn’t always to what he suggested to begin with. But usually there was some method in his ideas. His own other relationship was messy and so we worked through those times together. Sometimes that meant just being there for each other. I know there were times when he felt less dominant for it, but this was a human need not about power exchange dynamics. Not many months after we met my father became terminally ill and died. The support Master provided during that time set the scene for the kind of partner he would be.

Running parallel to all of those more intimate and personal elements of our relationship is the kink. Power, Dominance, submission, kinky sex and play. Over the years we have learned what is our norm. The things that feel safe and right. But we have also pushed each other to try new things.

For a very long time we played in the privacy of our own home and occasionally in a privately hired dungeon. It was also a while before we ventured to Munches and in the end it was through talking to people at those events that drew us to play events. Then recently we started meeting up with some people we met at one of those. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that often I’d prefer to stay at home. Well until I’m there that is. But that is also true of attending vanilla events even with friends.

Am I submissive enough? Is he dominant enough?

These were my thoughts as I listened to some podcasts while travelling yesterday (details below). My idea of submission at the beginning of this journey was based on erotica and other blogs. Training plans for submissives, men with dungeons in their basements, kneeling naked etc. It isn’t like that. For obvious reasons. But when Master tells me I’ve been bratty, I do stop and think. When he tells me to kneel and suck his cock I do it. When he asks me if I’ve achieved the things in my planner, I do reflect. And when he tells me his is proud of the person I glow with pride.

He has helped me become the slave he wants, but also I have helped him to become the dominant I need. Our life together is the one we have made together and it isn’t like anyone else’s I’m sure. But it occurs to me that we are who we are and I am the person I am because of us.

At some point soon, I am going to draw a line on some of the past. We share enough history on this blog not to need to go back further. The posts will remain but they will be archived from view. They are not ones that are retweeted anyway. Time to move on.

Thoughts generated from the following podcasts

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Opposites Attract (or should you fuck a tory?)

MoteOo (pixabay.com)

In some ways that is true about us. Not in terms of kink, we seem to be aligned there. But upbringing, education and politics. There are some huge differences. This conversation with GOTN yesterday has led me here to this post. But actually I’ve thought about writing it for some time. That’s because a lot of fellow sex bloggers approach their lives from a similar liberal world view. One that I also possess. But I often keep quiet because Master usually has some kind of opposite view. People say, for example they would never fuck a Tory or someone who voted for Brexit. But actually it is possible to have sex and cohabit with someone who is and did those things. I wonder if I should have included a content warning on this post?

Roots

I come from a socialist supporting family, though both my brothers have moved away from that philosophy. My maternal ancestors were mining families from the North East of England. My dad was an electrician and I became a nurse through an apprenticeship type training. Since then I’ve gained 2 degrees and been a health service manager but I believe in socialist values and I’d also prefer we remained part of the EU. The original reason for this was a selfish one. I have a home in France and don’t want complications. But as time has gone on I haven’t been able to work out what will be better when the UK leave.

He went to a private school, on a scholarship and his father was a banker. Master is Oxford educated and was an accountant. He votes Conservative and believes in Brexit. Or did when he voted for it. He doesn’t take anything at face value and reads vociferously. When he voted for Brexit it was because he believes that the EU is corrupt and badly run. That view hasn’t changed, but the complete political mess that ensued after the vote created more common ground than we expected.

Arguments

I was never someone who would finish with someone because of their political beliefs. Unless they wanted to make me change mine, and that clearly hasn’t happened. We certainly don’t discuss politics in bed or in the practice of our BDSM art form. But that isn’t to say we haven’t discussed the two thorny issues of crap tory policies making the country less pleasant to live in and Brexit. We have also had our fair share of arguments, as you might expect.

My husband found it difficult to establish an opinion much less express one. He tended to regurgitate mine. So, actually having someone to argue the state of the country with is a good thing. I’ve also become less volatile in my reactions over the years, it must be age.

But we do argue. Not often and to be honest I struggle to maintain my side to the bitter end (to my own frustration). The trouble is Master often has much more knowledge on a topic than I do. Unless it is about health and health politics and then I can hold my ground. What’s more I tend to lose interest or wrap myself up in knots. His debating skills are just better than mine. Then there is the issue that I’ll never change his mind just like he won’t mine. So, what’s the point.

As I mentioned above though it has been the politicians of the UK and indeed world that have helped us along. There has been no doubt this country has been badly run for the last few years. There is also little doubt that Jeremy Corbyn was never going to be accepted as a prospective prime minister. Even though he has been a better leader than I’d imagined he would be. Brexit has been a shambles and in all likely hood will remain so. We therefore have agreement even if we come at it from opposite views.

Drink

My only caveat is that we must never have political discussions in a pub or even at home while drinking. Over the years that has caused some momentous rows, usually involving me getting so angry that I storm off somewhere. Plus, I’m less articulate when drunk and he tends to forget what he said by morning. So it’s a case of don’t go there. The only upside is that it usually involves some very hot make up sex. But to be honest it would be better to just have the sex and leave out the argument and hangover.

My advice

If you find yourself romantically linked with someone of an apposing political view don’t run away, it might be fine. If you fancy them like crazy and you find that they don’t want to talk about how wonderful Boris is while in bed. Also check they are capable of behaving themselves in public. That they won’t lecture your friends and family and keep their apposing views to more private encounters.

So, if you fancy a tory, don’t be frightened to snog them, or even have sex with them. They might just turn out to be the love of your life.

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Home

14th July Fireworks from my balcony in France

Concepts of home have become more difficult for me to articulate over recent years. What does home really mean to me? Is home a place, a person, a state of mind? Unusually, I read the Food for Thought posts already posted before writing this. Now I’m not sure if I’m clearer or if the waters are more muddy. Let’s see.

Childhood

We moved to the house I would consider my childhood home when I was around 5. I have a few memories of the first place, but they may just be from photos I’ve seen. Home was my parents and brothers. My grandparents and cousins visiting. It was family Christmas’ and my room.

As a teenager I got my dad to paint it purple. I had my own little portable cassette deck, my books and other special possessions. It’s the place I did my homework and wrote. Once I got a boyfriend it’s a place I took him, though my mum was forever calling me downstairs!

I got married from that home (though I had moved out 6 months before) and then my parents moved to a new house. I felt at home in their new place, but it wasn’t my home.

Our homes

Hubby and I also owned two houses during the course of our marriage. Our first was special because I’d never lived anywhere that afforded real privacy. By that, I mean that parents and brothers could walk in at home and the home warden at my nurses accommodation. Here only we had a key, everyone else had to knock. That made it home. Then the fact we decorated and chose furniture and furnishings. Finally because it was just us. It was a place that we conceived our son and brought him home to. Later I discovered things hadn’t been as I imagined, because his infidelity started at around that time.

When my son was just 3 months old we moved. I wanted somewhere we could bring up a family, a bigger home and better neighbourhood. The new place was fine to begin with. We decorated, but often struggled to make it feel right (for me that is). However it was my son’s home and over time it became mine too. A place of sanctity, somewhere to hide when things were difficult.

At the end, when my ex had all but gone, it felt like the home it had never been. I spent days and nights there alone and became familiar with every nook and cranny. But when it came time to leave, I knew it was right.

My ex still lives there. I’ve been back and it feels no more like home than any other house in that street. That’s not because they have decorated and have new furniture. I’ve felt that way since I loaded my car with my remaining things and closed the door on that part of my life.

Looking back, I am still not sure that home was ever with my ex. But having my son there made it feel that it was at the time.

Now

We live in Master’s house. To begin with it was very weird, but gradually it has become home. Partly because my possessions have found their place and I have made changes to how things are. Also because we have started to decorate and make plans about how things will be. But this is a home because we are here together. I have a feeling about the concept of home that I didn’t have before.

There is one other place I call home. It’s a small apartment in France that I own (well jointly own with the ex). But it is my bolt hole. It’s the place I went to escape the pain and sadness when my life seemed to be falling apart. I’ve laughed, cried, got drunk and had amazing sex there. It is the place I’d run to if things went tits up here with Master. But it is also the place we go to and gradually it has become something of home to him too. Our place, our home.

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Balancing our needs

In her introduction for this week’s Sex Bloggers for Mental Health, Catherine links to my post from last week about priorities. As she highlights, I wrote about the need to balance my and our needs with those of others. For this week’s prompt Catherine asks: but how?

For me, the realisation that a rebalance is required, comes after some kind of crisis. It may just be a moment of stress or some kind of over dramatic meltdown (oh yes, I can be a drama queen).

We are lucky. Our lives don’t any longer revolve around the needs of others. Just of ourselves. We don’t have dependents living with us, nor do we have parents or children living close. But there in lies the slight problem. On one hand we don’t have anyone turning up unexpectedly, but on the other hand, we do need to plan. We can live our own lives spontaneously but interaction with others needs planning. And sometimes we either get the planning wrong, get let down or else have to drop everything for the needs of others. This is kind of what happened at Christmas. My careful planning went wrong, because stuff outside of our control happened and then stress occurred.

Many of us try to control everything around us much too much. I and we are no exception to that. It is in my nature to try to please everyone and by doing so, I end up making myself unhappy. Master needs time of solitude and actually I need that alone time too. But both of us also need to engage with others. He claims he doesn’t; but then suggests going to a munch because he wants to be sociable. When I say we are going to spend an evening with my son or brother he pulls a face, but then enjoys it. Certainly before he met me Master spent far too much time alone and admits now that was not good for him. He claims he dislikes people, but I don’t think he really does, but he definitely needs not to be with others all the time.

That may reflect our different personalities. Me, the extrovert who likes to be with people and he the introvert who lives in his own mind much of the time. But, that’s too simplistic. I find meeting new people difficult. I don’t like noisy places as I can’t shut off from people’s conversations. It’s often he who suggests we go out to meet people and I who would rather stay home.

We both have elderly parents, and the possibility of a call is always there. I know that I will be required at some point to go and help out. My mother is frail and prone to falls. But while she is well and mobile I will keep to my fortnightly visits and support my brother who lives nearby as best I can.

My own brush with ill health and the desire to live my best life right now dictates how I makes sure there is balance. That I do the things I want and need. For example that I take exercise, even if Master isn’t joining me. That we go to new places and see what the world has to offer us. I am lucky to have retired from full time work at such a young age, but I know how easily the freedoms I am afforded could be snatched away. So, with that in mind we put ourselves first. But try to remain mindful of those that surround us.

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A bit of a show off

Yep, that’s me. I was that child eager to strut her stuff on stage or to take part in fancy dress competitions. I was that live wire, loud, trying to be centre of attention. Precocious the adult me would have called the younger Julie. I’m an extrovert and I’ll be honest I am a show off and I’m not frightened to flaunt any talents I have. At one time that might have been my long legs and my boobs. I’ve never had an hour glass figure instead I’m more pear shaped. But over all I haven’t let it stop me from wearing what I want.

I guess that’s why I immersed myself so thoroughly into posting pictures on my blog. Because, although I tend to dress for the occasion at work or socially I really love to show off my body. And, over the past 8 years I’ve been lucky enough to be with men who appreciate it.

For S, it was stockings, suspenders and heels. With Master it’s me naked. Though he has a certain appreciation for me in leather fettish gear. I guess that I’ve got out of the habit of wearing it, what with one thing and another. So, last weekend’s trip to a fetish club was a great opportunity to strut my stuff. We don’t have any photos since photography in the club is (for obvious reasons) not allowed. But we certainly should take some for February Photofest.

Lingerie is often something hidden beneath clothes, or not worn (that would be Master’s preference. I tend to wear knickers with jeans, but not leggings and in winter. I do love the opportunity that summer offers. At the moment I always wear a bra, but hope that in the fullness of time that won’t be necessary again. But for now, I have a new found desire to buy matching lingerie and wear it. Last week I showed off my new set and don’t have anything else to show. But this is the 52nd week of Lingerie is for Everyone and so I feel I must join in. My show off, flaunt it self demands it.

So, I give you a photo taken for February Photofest 2017. This is one of my favourite sets and while I have thrown out some of the lingerie I doubt I’ll wear again, I very much would like to be seen in this set again. When I manage it, you’ll be the first to know.

Me wearing beautiful red lingerie. There is beading and lace on both bra and pants.

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Thoughts on intimacy

While reading this post by May yesterday it struck me that there was a time when I hated intimacy. The reasons for these feelings differ between us, experiences in childhood and young adulthood are important. Being cheated on so early in my marriage had a profound affect on me. Over time, I learned to bury the hurt and pain, to bury my feelings. I guess I came across as cold and unresponsive. He told me I was frigid, so I know that was the case.

Sex during my marriage

Was perfunctory and was often just sex. I’ve said before that he was a man who could complete foreplay and PIV sex in during a commercial break. But to be fair to him, I was often ok with that. I’d hang around in the bedroom for a while and bang out an orgasm. Or else wait till he was asleep and find my rabbit. I actually didn’t want him to be intimate with me, to stroke and touch.

It’s strange, because we didn’t have full sex for quite a time after we met. But there was a lot of intimacy – a lot of foreplay (without the sex), we always sat close together and touched and kissed a lot. And then gradually that didn’t happen any more, but the catalyst for that was his affair. Don’t get me wrong we had our moments, but I think alcohol played quite a part in getting me to relax my guard.

Meeting S

This was a pretty transactional relationship looking back. I was his bedroom submissive, I dressed up and got off on some humiliation and degradation. In return we had some very good sex and through that I discovered I was in no way frigid. The play and the sex were fairly unemotional. But there was a lot of intimacy before and after. My husband rarely cooked a meal and being presented with breakfast after an early start and long drive was amazing. Picnics in bed were also a fun and intimate thing. But also there was aftercare of the physical kind – stroking, kissing and just generally being.

But then it was time to leave and I often didn’t hear from him for days or even weeks. To begin with that hurt, but over time I accepted that it wasn’t a love affair and took from it what I needed.

The intimacy of us

This relationship, with Master gives me everything I didn’t realise I needed until I had it. I’ve written before about the importance of touch between us. The intimacy is just there. If my husband came up to me and put his hands on my waist, then grabbed a tit I’d swat him away. Because there was a motive. With Master, there could be motive, but in general he is touching me because he desires me and just wants to touch me.

The stroking and holding takes place before during and after sex. During play he is constantly seeking to check I am ok and to let me know that he desires me. He also wants to know that I am aroused by the things he is doing.

As mentioned in the post – The touch of our hands – he didn’t always enjoy being touched. Now though he actively seeks my hands on his body. We approach each other regularly and just kiss gently on the lips. We don’t always hold hands when out, but sometimes, often late at night we do and it feels just right.

In many ways I feel I’ve come full circle. That I didn’t actually know what I needed till I didn’t have it. Didn’t know what to expect or to ask for. But, you know what? It’s never to late to find out what you need and perhaps to get it.

Click below for the thoughts of others on the topic of intimacy

Click below to see who else is participating in January Jumpstart.

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Motivation

Photo by Allie Smith on Unsplash

This was the last of my navel gazing, reflective posts (well for now). Onwards we march into January 2020. For once in my life I still feel motivated and it’s already the second week of the year! But joking aside, what gets and keeps me motivated?

Blogging motivation

I’m definitely being helped along by my new planner. I’m still learning to use it, but this afternoon I’m going to spend some time on the project planning pages. I have plans for this blog and also the continuing development of Food, Fitness and Health. There are some great features too, space on the back of each diary page. A beautiful folder and because it’s loose leaf I can move stuff around. So far so good. But of course, my motivation will only last as long as I produce results. I’ve not really been feeling sexy or kinky lately, which has hit my ability to write anything erotic. But I’m hoping that will change, and prompts do help that. The Food for Thought prompt this week is intimacy, so……..

Sex, kink and submission

These elements of my and our life ebb and flow. Busy times such as Christmas mean that we are focused outwards and not inwards. Plus, we are both pretty sure that the lack of day and sunlight affects us. This winter is so far not cold, but it has been wet and more often than not overcast. Plus we don’t have a week in the sun to look forward to this year.

But we have plans coming up. This weekend we are off to a new (to us) club and so there will be play. The release of endorphins will, I think help us both. Master also has plans for March – something special after Eroticon (more news later) and his birthday celebration. He has plans for us to go away, but won’t tell me where we are going. I managed to squeeze an average temperature from him and it definitely isn’t the Caribbean. However, I know that wherever we go we will be sure to focus on our dynamic plus hopefully have some good sex.

Work

I’ve recently taken on some voluntary work with a charity which will take up a bit of my time going forward. I was thrilled to have been asked to join the board and hope that I will get the chance to learn as well as share my expertise. There’s also some paid work in the offing. I was a bit worried I’d need to go to an agency but it looks like that might not be necessary. There’s nothing like being wanted to make you feel motivated. I need to replenish my savings a bit in this half of the year and that is motivation enough to look for work.

Community

People (including me) have had a bit more time on their hands lately and this had led to a higher level of engagement. Or so it seems. I’m trying to read and comment on more blog posts and to engage on twitter. February photofest is a great blogging community event and will be coming up all too soon. We’ve started to take some extra photos and edit old ones so I have enough material to join in. Then there’s the run up to Eroticon (66 days and counting), always a motivating event and time.

Health and fitness

I start most years with plans to lose weight, get fitter etc and then lose motivation when it proves too hard. I struggle with changing habits for longer than a week or two. So, given I have a good reason to keep going this year I am trying to take it day by day. But to focus each day on doing the best I can and if I slip to carry on the next day. Maybe that is a message for any goals – tomorrow is always another day.

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Mindset

Our dynamic is about power, control and mind games. I say games, because to begin with it feels like it. Where someone is seeking to get you to conform to their way of thinking, to make you behave in certain ways and to develop a mindset. For me the mindset of a submissive, of a slave. Looking back this was always a conscious thing on both sides.

Before I met Master, there had been a few times when I had found myself in a submissive space, usually after an intense sex session. I also knew I responded well to instructions, In the right context. In that relationship, (2012 to the end of 2013), we used certain rituals to create the right mindset. Wearing certain clothes (and underwear) and shoes. Kneeling for him as soon as I arrived. So, while I wasn’t someone who usually liked to be told what to do, I found myself embracing his dominance.

A submissive mindset

With Master though it was different. From the very beginning his approach was psychological. Our physical attraction to each other came through our conversations about Dominance and submission. He says he felt my submission almost before he laid a finger on me. It was almost like he had a power over me. Our first date was in February, it was wet and cold and we strolled into a disused church. By the time he touched my bottom and pressed his erection against my cunt I’d have gladly taken my jeans down there and then. For me, sexual arousal and submissive mindset are clearly linked. I had brought that knowledge from the previous relationship and found it to be true here. A couple of weeks later I discovered how powerful BDSM play could be in sending me into subspace.

A name

Within days I was referring to myself in the third person while we were together and soon here on my blog too. To him I was and remain this girl, His pleasing bitch. The latter took a little longer to form but to this day, Master rarely refers to me as Julie, except to others.

I wouldn’t claim to remain in some submissive mindset all of the time. Once, I probably did most of the time we spent together. But now of course we live together and have regular stuff to do. But when we have sex, when we play or when the mood takes him a few words are uttered and I am back in that place. Back being this girl, slut, slave and his bitch. What’s more the names aren’t just used when in bed and so he has the power to pull me up short just by calling me this girl. And not only when we are alone, at home.

The right mindset

But having said that, there are times when it doesn’t work. When it takes effort on both our parts to create the right feeling. This was more of a thing when I was working, on Friday nights I needed a bit more persuasion (and alcohol) to get into the mood. Another challenge can be my mum who definitely gets me into a mood very easily.

I’ve mentioned recently about changes to my orgasms, that I don’t feel the need for so many and that they can’t always be forced. This can be challenging since multiple orgasms definitely put me into a submissive space. And if you can’t force one out there won’t be lots. But true to form Master is finding ways around my resistant body, which can’t help but respond to strong vibrations.

A successful Dominant / submissive relationship requires brining together physical actions with the right mindset and making those two things happen at the same time can take a bit of effort. However it does make for an interesting life and is rarely dull.

tellmeabout
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Lies

I lived with a man who told so many lies that  I’m sure he grew to believe them. They mainly involved the reasons he would be late home, not home at all or unable to get to events involving his son. Sometimes I believed his lies too because It was easier and felt safer.

Plus, I could repeat the lies to family members and friends. For example: “B (my ex)  can’t come to your wedding because he is working away from home, so I’ll go on my own. What kind of man does that to his new wife?

On more than one occassion we met a few streets from my parents house and then arrived together, so they wouldn’t know. It’s a mystery to me why I carried on ths pretense for so long.

I’m essentially a truthful person, I tend to tell the truth even when I know the truth will hurt. Which is why I am puzzled that I got so good at telling lies to others. And why I got so bad at acknowledging that they were lies. However it is a world I will never inhabit again.

But I have lied in my life.

Childhood untruths

I found it difficult to make friends at school and told some absolute woppers to try to get people to like me. At age 5 I told my teacher my mum had given birth to my brother, I drew a picture of the whole family. My mum was pregnant at the time, but hadn’t had my brother yet. She went to school to tell the teacher I had chicken pox, she was most surprised mum was quite so fat. But no harm done. The next one was terrible – I am embarrassed to admit that in the first year of secondary school I told people I’d had a sister and she had died. This was a definite attempt to get friends. It backfired and I had to admit the terrible lie. But later I did make plenty of school friends, some of whom are still friends today.

I usually blushed when lying so I quickly learned it was a bad thing to do. My husband was on a different planet when it came to telling lies.

Being married to a liar

I’ve mentioned in the introduction above some of the lies B told. It became so much part of our lives that the lies even tripped off my tongue. Where was he? Working. When would he be home? Later tonight.

At the end of our relationship he told me and my son that he was helping the homeless at Christmas. We were forced to tell his family the lie. They didn’t believe it any more than we did. I’ve never asked it it was true, I want to believe it is. But I suspect it was a lie. It’s also the last one I let him tell. The last one that I used as an excuse for his short comings. A few weeks after that I met Master and since then I’ve told the truth, even it it hurt to do so.

I want to see the best in people

So, I tend to believe them even when the evidence says otherwise. It took another man I was friends with to get me to believe my husband was lying about working away from home. It took my brother to photograph B’s car outside his now partner’s house for me to believe he was living with her.

People have told massive lies at work to cover up things they haven’t done. Others have stolen my work and passed it as their own. But until the moment that I can see what has really happened I don’t want to believe it.

Maybe it is because of the lie I told as secondary school that makes me think no one else could tell lies so bad.

White lies and hurtful lies

I try not to lie these days. I might lie by omission from time to time. For example not telling my mum I have been out with my brother because she would want to come too. But in the main I try not to. I hate that if you tell one lie you will often need to tell another and another. But also I hate to be lied to. So hate to do it to others.

As I get older I have begun to see that being truthful is more important. That no matter how bad the truth is, lying is worse. When my son was a teenager he lied to me about taking drugs. The conversation we had after that has stuck with me. I told him I would rather no than be lied to and since then he has always told me the truth. It isn’t always easy to be told things you don’t want to hear. But in the end the truth rarely hurts as much as a lie. And sometimes a lie lives with you forever – why on earth would I tell people I had a sister and that she had died. I regret that lie so much.

I wonder if B regrets the lies he told me. It likely he does.

F4Thought

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Control

Sometimes not being in control is the most beautiful thing in the world

This week’s Tell me about prompt is Control. This is a topic I’ve written about a lot and the fact that Master has control over me is fundamental to us and our relationship. Looking back to the beginning of our relationship, that has always been the case. It is what attracted us to each other and what sustains us. This post was written a little more than a month after we started setting each other.

Control in daily life

In the post I talk about the first day we went out together without me knowing our destination. He told me to trust him and just go with the flow. At the time I was almost control freakish about my life. Planning was a priority, so there would be no unexpected events. Getting on a train and then bus with no idea of a final destination? Who does that? Later we moved on to him choosing food and wine for us both. Then in June of that year he booked a short break for us and for the first time win my adult life I didn’t know where we were going. Actually I had to pick one of three destinations he had written down but, then Master booked flights and hotels. This is the way he tends to organise our trips away even now.

Because we are together all of the time there are fewer surprises than during those early days. Plus, I tend to choose my own meals when we are out these days, plus collaborate on tapas style food. But I don’t tend to know what wine is arriving. When we are out on public transport Master holds the tickets, though in London I use my own card for contactless payments. He books theatre and exhibitions and the first I know is a diary invite. Though that doesn’t mean I can’t request something we might do. For example we recently saw the new Mary Poppins musical which I read about first.

These are small subtle ways in which control is maintained in everyday life. In bed though it is more overt.

Control in the bedroom and playroom

I am Master’s slave, his sex toy and play thing. I am always submissive in those situations and he is always my dominant. No one seeing us would mistake that fact. If I fight my submission in other parts of my life, this is one that I really don’t. I have gladly given up control of my orgasms and indeed my limits to Him, my Master. His control there is absolute. However that doesn’t mean I’m not a bit of a brat at times, trying to top from the bottom. But in the end, he has the control and that’s the way we both like it.

I’ve never been very good at leading during sex (though I have no problems in other areas of life). So, being able to handover decisions about how a sex or play session will go appeals. Luckily he usually has a clear idea of what he wants and expects from me and I am usually a willing participant.

The lives of others

I have no desire to be involved in controlling the lives of other people. I’m done with doing a job where I had to manage petiole and make decisions affecting them. I’m happy to no longer be married to a man who needed me to tell him what to do and where to be all the time. My son is grown up and married and while I might guide and advise, I don’t seek to control. My mum needs a certain level of support, but isn’t one to listen much to the advice of others, even when she should.

So, right now the level of control in my life is just where I want it. I hope it continues.

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