Self doubt

needpix.com

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self doubt.”

Sylvia Plaith

I never used to have anything in my draft folder. Suddenly though I do. The thing is, I have stuff to say, some of it quite profound but somehow I can’t get the words right. Or I fear I have the words wrong. Increasingly I feel silenced by self doubt.

I constantly think back to pre-lockdown times when, it seems the world was young, bright and non judgemental. Of course it was never like that, but this past few months have made it seem so.

Blogging and Twitter

The community of sex bloggers has changed, just as the world outside has changed. Rather than be kind, understanding and tolerant to difference people have become defensive and intolerant. I’ve been blocked by so many people on Twitter I can hardly keep up. People talk of a conspiracy but do so while whispering to each other in the dark. This is not a world I can inhabit. I have to speak my mind and have to stand up for people I feel and who say they have been mocked and hurt.

There are huge issues to write about. But it is difficult to do so when you have a limited amount of knowledge of the topics. All you can do is learn about the issues and support those with that knowledge. Though I’d like to write something. In particular I’d like to express that making the issue about you rather than them is no defence.

All the time though, I feel I am walking on egg shells. Will I say or write something that is misconstrued. Will I like something said by someone on a list of unsafe people? All of these things swirl in my head as I try to write.

Life

But it isn’t just twitter or the blog. The judging of others is everywhere, take the wearing of masks or going out for an evening. I have no problem wearing a mask in a shop, but do not wish to wear one while walking in the park. I see no point and I want to breath the fresh air and don’t however see I should be judged for this. We have been out for drinks and a meal at a local pub. We chose carefully, we know the staff and are happy with the way things are managed. It’s table service and no one is getting close to anyone, but please don’t judge me for choosing to go there.

Next week I am taking my mum away to a hotel for a couple of days. She has become housebound over the months because it was unsafe to go out and there was no where to take her. She has brittle bones and needs to get out in the sun light. But going to a hotel feels to many like a risk too far. She asked to go but is now filled with her own self doubts. Will she manage to navigate the hotel, what should she take to wear etc.

Health

We have been thinking about my breast cancer recently and what would have happened if I had discovered my lump during this pandemic. As it was I prioritised work and moving house over seeing the doctor. How would I have managed attending appointments and even having surgery without the support of Master? It doesn’t bear thinking about. But what is clear to me is that I have over come cancer and so refuse to give in to worry. I want to and have to live my life in the way I see fit. That doesn’t mean taking unnecessary risks but it doesn’t mean hiding away either.

The way forward through writing

At the beginning I just wrote what I wanted, about what I wanted. I need to get back to that again. Some of the self doubt I had about this is moving away. I recognise that I have written about many topics a lot. I don’t plan to keep doing that. Instead I’m going to signpost my existing writing more effectively. Time has been spent learning about topics I knew little about. But there are also things I know quite a bit about and I need to express them here. There is knowledge to impart and education to provide. Plus of course I have an opinion on many things.

I also see that much of the feelings I’ve been expressing are associated with it being summer. Also, though because I’ve been in mourning. For lost friends (not literally), for a life put on hold during these long months.

Unusually we are off on holiday in September. I fancy that even though we’ll be away there will be more to write about. Anyway I can write about anything I choose. Just because this is a sex blog doesn’t mean I have to write about sex. But then I might.

Finding myself

“Who are you?
Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies?
Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them?
I have. I am fucking crazy.
But I am free.”
― Lana Del Rey

I started this blog when I was at the beginning of a journey. Funnily enough at the beginning I didn’t know if it would lead anywhere, nor where that place would be.

I didn’t wake up one day and think: I know what, I’ll become a sex blogger. But as someone with limited sexual experience at the age of 50, writing about my newfound experiences seemed to be worthwhile. What’s more, I am glad I did. Especially the times when I’ve written about my hopes and fears, my feelings. Even though I don’t dwell on past relationships, documenting them here has meant I have the opportunity to look back to see where I’ve come from.

Now though, I think I am there. I have arrived at the place, the life I wanted. I am living my own fantasy. Plus, for all I live in a 24/7 M/s relationship I am free of the invisible ties that seemed to keep me in an unhappy place for so long. In April I was at last divorced and so a process that began 30 years ago came to fruition. I knew a long time ago I had made a mistake in choosing my husband, but I stayed and saw the relationship through to its bitter end.

I saw my ex yesterday, I collected a letter from him. We stood outside our former marital home for 10 minutes or so. It was enough. I don’t miss much about the home and certainly nothing about my life with him. We had good times and have a son to show for our long marriage. But I’ve learned more in the past 8 years about sex and relationships than I did in the rest of my adult life.

This life, master and I have together isn’t perfect. Who’s is? I’m struggling a bit with my submission. some days I don’t think I want our relationship to be a power exchange. But then when I think things through I know that I need it. I rebel and push against it, but it keeps me safe. It stops me having to worry about making decisions. I worry that I don’t feel as aroused as I want to be (medication causes that I think). But I also know that once we touch, kiss or have sex I am me again. A sexual being, that craves the dominance he provides me with. He makes me feel fulfilled and free to be myself.

I’m at a crossroads here. I love my blog but am tired of it too. I want to write, but often can’t. It feels like time for a change in direction, but I don’t know what that means or where it might take me. There will definitely be a rebrand in the coming weeks, I’ve started to think about how the blog might look. What I’m less sure of is the content.

Thanks to LSBs meme Quote Quest and Lana Del Rey’s beautiful lyrics in her haunting song Ride for the inspiration for this post. Maybe using more quotes to inspire is the way forward?

TTWD

Me standing naked looking out of a window. A cathedral can be seen in the background.

“The thing is that you brought this out in me. How could I want it with anyone else” – JM Storm

One of the best ways I know of describing our kinky life is this – The Things We Do (TTWD). I first saw the phrase / abbreviation on other blogs soon after I started blogging and liked it. That’s because the things we do are unique to us just as our relationship is unique to us.

I came into the relationship with a better knowledge of sex and kink than I’d had just a couple of years before. I’ve written many times about my limited sexual experiences before the age of 50.

An education

My time with S certainly proved to be a voyage of discovery. I left that relationship thinking I knew it all, only to discover how wrong I was. More importantly the discovery that the relationship itself is vital in determining TTWD.

S was interested in power exchange, but only during play or specific scenes. He was especially keen on scenes that we acted out. He liked to tie me up and to inflict some pain. But lacked the knowledge or inclination to take it very far.

I was a keen pupil and pretty much fitted in with his desires. I didn’t yet know what I wanted or needed, though I did crave his dominance over me. Over time it became obvious that he wasn’t going to be able to give me what I needed. The sex however was great, even at the end.

Learning about myself – MPB

Master said he was looking for a play partner who was submissive. I went in to the relationship expecting just that. But as I wrote soon after, I got much much more. I learned that my need for submission was greater than I knew. And, his desire for me to be his slave was overpowering.

Whereas with S, bondage, humiliation and degradation had been paramount. With Master, the power exchange was most obvious. Next was play. This was play in the context of his power over me. Together we explored restraint, exhibitionism, pain and pleasure in a way that was completely different to my previous experiences. Different, not because everything was new but because the context was different.

Over time Master brought out feelings about myself and TTWD that I hadn’t imagined, not even while reading erotic fiction. Sometimes this was scary, but in the main it released me from the constraints of my previous life.

This is our relationship and I need no other

Over 6 years have passed since Master and I got together. If you’d told me then that this would likely be long lasting and all we’d both want, I would have laughed in your face. But this is how it is. He is the man I needed all along and all I need now. Some of TTWD have changed over time. For example most of our play takes place outside of our home even though we have the equipment. Our sex life ebbs and flows, due to libido, need, time of the year etc. Since we live together our sex and play isn’t concentrated into weekends and holidays.

My submission might appear less overt than originally, though of course my collar is a constant reminder to me, us and others. Sometimes I worry it isn’t enough, though deep down I’m pretty sure it is. I am enough. He is enough and TTWD is enough.

Click below to see who else is joining in with Quote Quest and Every Damn Day in June.

Endings and Beginnings

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished; that will be the beginning.” – Louis L’Amour

What a fabulous idea for a meme. The lovely LSB has launched Quote Quest and this is the very first quote.

Endings

I guess the trouble with endings is that you can’t always work out when something is finished or ended. Take relationships. It’s only in looking back that I can measure (approximately) when I knew my marriage was over. There are several contenders. You see, I’d been going through the motions for years but there was a day when I decided that there had to be more to life. The first time I met S and decided to embark on a relationship with him. The day that my ex found out about S. More likely the day S had finished with me and I didn’t beg my husband to take me back.

2018 was a massive year of endings. I helped my mum move into a more suitable home, packed up my own belongings and moved in with Master. I resigned my job and left that then developed breast cancer, which felt at the time an ending to my life as an attractive woman.

Beginnings

But actually all those endings brought with them beginnings. My mum’s move has helped develop and nurture my relationship with the elder of my two brothers. We have to work together to keep her safe and we have to speak to each other to prevent her playing us off against each other.

I’ve been back to the house I lived in for 27 years and it is no longer home. I have no feelings about it and now look on Masters house as home. That did take a long time, probably 18 months. I felt I was a visiter, but now we’ve begun to decorate and buy new things that are ours I feel more secure.

The house move and the injection of cash that went with it meant I could stop working. I’m conscious I have some dependency on Master but am learning to park that in a very tiny corner of my brain. My money is invested and I have an income. Plus, I also have my apartment in France. So, there really is very little for me to worry about on that score. Not working opened up some amazing opportunities. So in the past two years I’ve had time to go to galleries and museums. To attend concerts and learn about classical music. I’ve travelled extensively and last year for the first time ever was away from home on holiday for 5 straight weeks. The best part of not working though is not feeling tired and stressed all the time. Indeed, I didn’t know I was tired until I wasn’t any more.

This year has been weird. But the enforced time at home has brought with it some silver linings. I have plants in pots and I have my tomato plants. Plus, I have plans for growing more things. I’ve almost finished my cross stitch that has taken 5 years and I have a new one that I’m determined to complete in a fraction of the time. I’ve stepped up my French online lessons and am on the lookout for resources to help with my comprehension of spoken French. I am hopeful of the opportunity to practice in real life by September.

Taking a negative and making it into a positive

I can’t pretend that I haven’t struggled these past months. We should be in Spain right now. My weight hasn’t increased but I’ve lost the momentum for weight loss. The surgery I thought I’d have at this autumn is now a distant hope. In fact I am wondering if it would be worth the effort. Breast reconstruction is big stuff. The surgery lasts at least 8 hours and the recovery is long.

I’ve grown used to my body as it is. I’d rather have two boobs but it isn’t the end of the world. I have my health and my partner loves me as I am.

I’m looking forward to a future when we aren’t all fearful of stepping outside the door. I want to eat in a restaurant again and stay in a hotel. Coronavirus is something I will be very glad to see the back of. But as I said at the beginning we probably won’t know when we are living normally again until we are. I’m pretty sure it will happen and I know we’ll look back on this year and hopefully embrace the beginnings it allows us to have.

The retreat

This story is dedicated to @sexblogofsorts who recently challenged me to write something inspired by this photo.

A recent feature of our relationship is that he books up our trips away. I’ve found this difficult to let used to. I like to control where I’m going, how I travel and what I do when I get there. But, when you sign up to a D/s relationship, you have to let go of some things. This apparently is one that will do me good.

Having said that, Sir has never let me down, and arriving at the airport to be told we were heading to Slovenia was intriguing. “A long weekend in the hills around lake Bled”, he said as we presented our boarding passes and passports to the person at the departure gate. Three hours later Sir was unlocking the door to our weekend retreat.

The bedroom was beautiful, spacious with an enormous bed. The bathroom was luxurious and contained both a shower and jacuzzi bath. But it was the living area that intrigued me most. I mean who furnishes their apartment with a day bed in the middle of the room? Who buys a animal hide covered chair? Don’t get me started on the elephant statue. But I digress.

Any thoughts I had of us getting changed and exploring the area were dashed when Sir informed me that sightseeing would wait until tomorrow. The kitchen was fully stocked, so dinner would be ‘at home’. He then instructed me to strip off.

When I returned from the bedroom naked Sir had covered the daybed with a sheet. “we don’t want to get the furry cover wet do we?” he smirked. Indeed not!. He had also moved the chair closer to the bed. I lay on the bed as instructed and then, from a cupboard he produced cuffs for my ankles and wrists. This was obviously no ordinary Airbnb. Minutes later my legs were spread and ankles secured to the bed. Sir sat down, smiling as he stroked the smooth hide. Thank goodness we aren’t vegetarian, I thought.

“Touch yourself, slut” He commanded. I used my left hand to feel between the lips of my cunt. Unsurprisingly I could feel my own slick juices. “rub yourself”, I pressed on my clit and rubbed gently, as it grew and hardened “faster” he said and of course I obeyed. There was certain humiliation to this scene, one that aroused me all the more. I could hear the trees rustling in the breeze, and the birds singing within their branches. I wondered if there were neighbours. This retreat seems isolated enough, but you can never tell.

“Pay attention” Sir stood over me grinning. I do have a habit of drifting off while masturbating myself. “Here use this” I took the wand he held out. “Start slow and turn it up as I tell you” I pushed the large vibrating bulb against my cunt and tried to concentrate my mine. I knew what was coming next.

“No coming unless I say!” He took a sip of wine.

It was going to be a long evening.

To be continued.

Let’s get this show back on the road

May turned into my leanest month for blogging since July last year. My excuse then was that I was on holiday, often without wifi. This year, things are different. I have wifi, I have moved blogging hosts and my blog isn’t constantly down. But what I don’t really have is inspiration. Nor do I have a great deal of libido for writing anything particularly sexy. But I’m going to try to use Every Damn Day in June to get this show back on some kind of road.

I think this is the third year Hy from A dissolute life Means has costed Every Damn Day in June. I can’t promise to publish every day, but I am going to try. To at lease sit down and write something. It might not be especially sexy, but then it might be. You’ll just have to watch this space and see.

Monday 1st June

This is meant to be my 7th shift as an NHS clinical contact tracer. So far I’ve managed to get as far as to log on. But I’ve spoken to no Covid cases nor their contacts. I have no way of knowing how many people have work to do. I can see lots of people (fellow clinical tracers) online. Maybe there just isn’t enough work to go around. Or maybe the system isn’t working properly. I’d contact someone, but other than tech support I’ve not been provided with any contact details. The tech support is overwhelmed – earlier when I wanted advice on how to get my headphones to work with the system the queue was long. It hardly moved for 2 hours, then I accidentally clicked away. It’s frustrating.

No matter what you think of the way this has (is being) set up, there is no doubt it is the way out of lockdown. I really want to do something to help. Heaven knows I have little else to occupy me. We should be heading to Spain this week for a touring holiday via Seville then onto France. My apartment sits empty and unloved. And, I’m stuck here waiting.

We’ve been going out less often. It’s strange really. At the start I went out most days, just to be outside of the confines of the house. I walked around town and looked at the closed shops, the people queuing for the few that were open. I looked in wonderment at the ‘temporary closure’ signs. 10 weeks later temporary has a whole new meaning. We’ve started doing fewer, bigger grocery shops, rotating the supermarket for variety. When I can I visit the butcher for different, better quality meat. Occasionally we get a takeaway, but mainly we rotate dishes and hunt for new recipes to vary the taste.

Plus, two weekends in a row we’ve driven half an hour or so to get a change of scenery and walk. Thankfully the weather has been fantastic, so we have been able to picnic and also to have a little fun (see yesterday’s Sinful Sunday). So, all is not lost.

In fact all is good really. We are together, we are safe and well and we can go out. We aren’t mixing with others (other than my mum). I miss my son, but know he is fine and that I can hopefully see him soon. So, it really is time to get back to blogging. I hope others will join me and Hy for Every Damn Day in June.

Being this girl

I'm sitting on the grass with one leg under the other. You can see I'm not wearing panties.

In many ways being this girl is like being someone else. Someone that exists only to be his and to serve. That was likely the purpose of the exercise, as described in this post. Julie was (and is) a strong minded individual. Caring, loving and devoted to loved ones. Hard working and tenacious. All useful qualities but ones that made it difficult to let go. Julie wanted to please, but had a tendency to try to please the wrong people, to allow herself to be used. That’s how this girl came to be.

Then

When Master first broached the idea Julie truly thought he was crazy. This wasn’t something she had experience of, hadn’t even read about. But after a bit of reflection she decided to give it a go. Speaking the words out loud were and still can be hard. After all the word I is a frequent part of our daily language. Surely only weird people refer to themselves in the third person. It turns out that weird people and submissive’s instructed to do so by their Dominants. Try saying it…..”First this girl did this and then she did that” or “Please can this girl come” (the second is probably the most uttered phrase of our relationship). It took some getting used to (both asking and asking in that way.

The key thing that being this girl has done though is to enable her to let go of Julie, to just be a slave. To live in the moment. This was particularly the case during challenging times with the ex and with family. A release from responsibilities at the end of a working week. An opportunity to focus. To be able to come home from work, to change and to speak aloud as your slave self. It was like layers of skin peeling off of an onion to reveal something fresh and new.

If you don’t use the words I or me, then it is easier to request something taboo. To ask to be humiliated or degragated, because it removes the focus from you as an individual. Instead you become a toy, or play thing. An object. So, Julie was able to become property, a thing to be used and played with. A slave with no other purpose than to provide pleasure to her Master.

Now

Of course things were fresh and new right then. We didn’t live together and so our focus when we were alone in a private place was each other. There was a point sometime during 2017 that preparations began for Julie to move in with Master. We began work on decluttering and preparing the house to be sold. Then after the move in 2018 there was a period of settling in and then breast cancer. All of this caused things to change, just a little.

As I’ve said before, this girl is still present in the bedroom. It feels easy these days to slip into the role of slave for those moments. But that’s where the problem lies. Although this girl is still present within Julie, she doesn’t appear often enough. Submission often feels a little further away than it used to and I (deliberate use of this pronoun) don’t know how to get her back. Do I want to? Yes, I do. Being this girl makes me feel safe (not to say that I’m not). She is a big part of my life and I love the feeling she gives me. But these things have to be worked at and it will take two of us to do so. I have the feeling we ought to give it a go.

There’s nothing wrong with our relationship, it just feels different. This was always going to happen because life happens. But maybe it’s time to rethink this Master / slave relationship. This slave needs it.

Love and life right now

Covid-19 Virus Coronavirus - Free image on Pixabay

Deep down I knew that the Coronavirus lockdown would last for months rather than weeks. But that doesn’t mean to say that I was emotionally prepared for it. Back in those early days at the end of March we were busy with home projects. During much of April we had good weather so eating lunch in the garden or on our balcony was a regular thing. We are used to spending lots of time together, so there was nothing new. Anyway, I was planning to be out a bit working. Then last week it was cold and wet, our projects were stuck and the work opportunity vanished. For a few days I felt without purpose and just plain miserable. I know Master feels it too. But I and we are fighting back. Below are my thoughts on the past 7 weeks detailing different parts of our love and life.

Getting things done

Over the winter we finally started to sort the house out. When I moved in nearly two years ago there was a lot of clutter which meant insufficient room for many of my things. I have my office which was completed last summer and so have my books there. But much of my treasured possessions remain in the garage and a lot of clothes are in boxes under the bed. So, where to start?

Master’s books were stacked everywhere in the living and dining room. So much so that I’ve never eaten at the dining table in this house. So I suggested the place to start was in those rooms. Progress was rapid and before Christmas we had specialist shelving installed on one side of both rooms. Then in March (after we’d finished decorating) the shelving was complete. I ordered new blinds for the windows and imagined we’d soon be straight.

But we have 7 or 8 empty bookshelves waiting to move and nowhere to put them. The household recycling centre closed in March and so we were stuck. Then the factory making my blinds closed and we had already thrown out the rails and curtains. I did manage to paint the hallway and want to continue into the kitchen, but we have nowhere to put the kitchen contents.

There is light at the end of the tunnel now because the recycling centres start reopening next week. I’m feeling hopeful that the blinds might be made soon too. I need to feel that we can get things done and make our enforced time at home worthwhile. Right now I feel more hopeful about that than I’ve done to date.

Lethargy

On the whole we have retained much of the structure of our life. Neither of us is working (we’ve both taken early retirement) so we don’t need to be up early, but I am a bit of an early bird. Master on the other hand is something of a night owl. I have learned over the past couple of years not to leap out of bed too early and having me around has encouraged him up sooner. We also have a more structured bed time than he previously had.

Our life is usually quite busy though. We go out to lots of cultural events – concerts, galleries, exhibitions and festivals. So, when there is nothing in the diary you need more than an occasional food shopping trip to make it feel worth getting up and going for.

At times we have both been filled with energy and enthusiasm to do things and at others not. Funnily enough not at the same time. I think this might be a good thing, because being lethargic together means we both struggle to do anything at all. We’ve tried to encourage each other on, but at times the frustration shows. We don’t argue often but when we do it isn’t pleasant. This week we’ve had late night arguments twice, something I’d like to avoid going forward.

Work

Having announced to the world I was going back to nursing, I embarked on induction and training in my own time. Then just as I thought I was about to be let loose on the world they decided they didn’t really need me. Well they haven’t said that but that’s the implication. I have uniforms in my wardrobe and PPE in my car. Both will be returned if nothing happens, but it has made me feel really fed up.

Thankfully a new opportunity has arisen, which is to help with the contact tracing that will be needed to loosen lockdown. This work will definitely happen and I have a paid training shift in my diary and have some work shifts booked too. It is also a bit more money than the original work. This job will mean working from home, so no need for uniform or PPE. Plus, I think this is going to be a really worthwhile job that will need to continue for some time.

Master on the other hand has no intention of going back to work. Instead he is managing our financial affairs which took a bashing in March. Thankfully they are recovering with a few changes. Secondly he is rewriting a wikipedia page for a Spanish author and poet and that’s keeping him busy. Now the books are organised on shelves he has a veritable library to consult. His other project is to map Covid across a number of countries as he prefers his own charts and graphs. These things will help us both going forward I think because we have no idea when we can do the things we want out of the house or travel.

Love and sex

It would be safe to say that neither of us have much in the way of an active libido right now. We’ve had good sex, but not frequently and we haven’t played at all. It’s strange but at a time when we are unable to touch others we aren’t really touching each other much either. I’m not sure why that is. Both of us are making a conscious effort to instigate touch, often when we sit together in the evening. At night Master will put a hand on me, especially if I’ve been snoring. There have been a few hugs, but I feel we need to make an effort to do more.

I’ve written some sexy posts and read some sexy and erotic books and blog posts. But it has been hard to transfer those feelings to our own life. I’m hoping that we can find a way to prioritise those things. Longer days and warmer weather will help as will being active independently of each other during the day times.

Moving forward

I know we are lucky. We are together, haven’t taken a drop in income (other than our long term savings, but they will recover) nor do we need to homeschool any children. But that doesn’t mean that we find the current situation easy. We have mourned the loss of the life we had and don’t know when or if we will get all of it back. I’ve been sad to see former colleagues losing their colleagues, team or organisation members. I’ve also hated the decisiveness of the recent arguments in the sex blogging community. All of this takes its toll.

So, going forward I hope we can soon restart our work in the house. I also have some plans for the garden, since I’ll be here and so can actually grow some stuff. Flowers and also one or two vegetables. Fingers crossed the planned work comes to fruition this time and that we can regain a little of the structure we had lost. I hope that we’ll be able to go out places and walk more as we get to summer. At present a lot of woodlands etc. are open but you can’t park.

As for sex, well I plan to try to make more of an effort because I think my libido is more suppressed than Masters, partly because of my medication. But I would love him to do so too. I don’t feel terribly submissive a lot of the time and know we need to work on this too. But I do feel we can, I do feel hopeful and just a bit positive right now.

Sexual Service

I am kneeling over the sofa. Wearing only a top. My arse and labia are visible and exposed.

I am a sex slave. My role to Master is to provide him with sexual service when he requires it. But also to be ready for him to use me when he wishes. This post is a work of fiction based on a limited amount of reality but mostly reading, fiction and non fiction.

My word of the day is RULES. Every day Master texts me a word or occasionally phrase while we are both at work. At the weekends, if we are home he tells me the word. Corner time is at 4pm which is shortly after I arrive home. I remove my clothes and then kneel on the floor in a corner of our room on a carefully placed pillow. Knees wide, back straight and hands behind my head. The purpose is for me to concentrate on my word while naked and vulnerable. To think about the meaning of the word and it’s relation to my service.

I know the rules by heart. I know that the key purpose of my role as Master’s sex slave is to be his slut and to provide him with sexual service. The rules are in place to make sure I do just that.

Rule number 1

I shall always be available for his use. This means that I do not wear underwear unless he says I should. In effect this means wearing a bra at work. At home I am often naked, unless we expect visitors or it is very cold. I also wear an apron when cooking. There is a certain vulnerability to never wearing panties, especially when I am aroused or hot. I often think others can small my cunt, though no one has ever mentioned it. When sitting I am not to cross my legs, often Master will tell me to sit with them wide open, even when we are out. This can be humiliating, but also a massive turn on.

When he decides I am to provide sexual service, to be used, which is most days, I must thank him. I beg him to use my holes, to come inside my slut body. Or, of course outside if he wishes. Whichever I thank him for the gift of his come.

Rule number 2

I am not allowed to touch my cunt nor come without permission. However Master tells me to touch myself often for his pleasure. This is fine when we are home alone together, less easy when we are out or have people over. Often when we are out eating dinner I will have been instructed to play with my clit. To bring myself close to climax, to edge. One hand on my fork and another on my lap, or so you may think. Other times it will be his fingers that stroke and tease. He studies me closely, watching my cheeks grow pink. He’ll then make me come when we get into the car, there in the car park or by the side of the road.

I am able to control my orgasms quite well, even when he uses the wand on me. But I really have to focus, to concentrate on my submission and remember that he is the owner of my body and my orgasms. He takes great pleasure in making me come the moment he demands. I don’t know how he does that!

Rule number 3

He is known to me as Master or Lord and I am this girl, slut or slave depending on his desires. I understand the meaning of this. I am nothing but the name Master choses to call me. Of course I have a name at work or when with family or vanilla friends. But always I know that I am property. His and his alone. He is my Lord and Master. I worship him and await his need to use me. That isn’t to say that I am not loved, cherished and cared for. Sometimes I am his pet, often his lover. He takes care of me, cooks for me, takes me to lovely places and buys me things. That he owns me is calming, reassuring. It makes me feel safe, wanted. His.

Rule number 4

I have a number of daily tasks, these sometimes change. Each morning I suck his cock if required. I also stand or sit in the shower or bath while he pees on me. I can’t say I enjoy it but I am used to it. It is warm and I have come to appreciate the feeling. I find it arousing, indeed humiliation to me is a massive turn on. After a shower and I have shaved my pussy, legs and underarms, I insert the plug he has chosen for me. This is worn for 2-3 hours so is removed in the bathroom at work. I dress in the way he wishes, often looking quite demure from the outside.

Throughout the day we keep in contact. Be both have busy and demanding jobs, but text a few times. There is usually a photo for me to take and send though.

Rule number 5

I kneel and present myself when Master arrives home

My working day is until 3pm. This fits in well with my sexual service duties and also those around the house. As mentioned above I spend half an hour in quiet contemplation before moving on to any house work and meal preparation. That’s not to say Master doesn’t do his fair share of house work etc. Because he does. He is particularly responsible for food shopping and this is one area where I tell him what might be needed.

Master texts me as he leaves work or the shops and I then prepare for his homecoming. This is a special time for us both. I kneel in the living room and wait in readiness for him. He greets his slave and inspects my body and asks for details of my day. Then he goes to change while I start dinner or put things away. Then he will open wine and we’ll often share the cooking chores.

There was a time when I would spend the evening at his feet while we watched TV or played music and chatted. But now I’m that bit older the sofa has become a better place to be, for us both.

Our evenings tend to be like most other peoples. Except I am usually naked and he is likely to be stroking some part of his property or making me suck his cock as he feels appropriate. Often we will retire to the play room where Master will restrain his slave and torture me. Pain and pleasure are such amazing bedfellows.

This is the life I chose

When we met, I quickly learned what life would be like if we came together as a couple. Master and slave. He was clear that it was a sex slave he desired. One he could use for his pleasure, whether sex or play. We discussed and wrote down our kinks and fetishes. On the day of our collaring ceremony I gave myself willingly to him. My limits are now his. Most decisions (outside work and my family) are his. The body that belonged to me is now his, as are the orgasms and control. He has total power over me and this is the life I chose. My role is to provide sexual service to my Lord.

Sex

A theme running through this whole blog is sex. The whole purpose of starting the blog in the first place was to catalogue my journey in both sex and submission. Back in 2012 I had only had intercourse with one man and had never experienced anal sex. I masturbated a lot, but was rarely satisfied. This seems to be something others observe when in unfulfilling relationships.

To begin with there was so much to write about, as I experienced new sensations, physically and emotionally. Later when I met Master I went through them again, and more. I tend not to write in detail about my own sex life any more. Not because there is nothing to write, but because we tend to do the same things. It’s not dull at the time, but would be if I described it. So, instead I’ve started to explore fiction. To take real events, often from my blog and turn them into stories. I plan to do more of that in the future.

Total Power Exchange (TPE) and Sex

Our relationship is classed as a power exchange. I have agreed that he should have total power over me in many areas of my life. I find this means that I have less to worry and concern myself with and that I can leave many decisions to him. When it comes to our sex life this really suits me. I am rubbish at saying what I like and want. I just want someone else to make the decisions, use me and make me to what they want. This isn’t something I knew back at the beginning of this blog. But it has certainly turned out that way.

It is in the bedroom or playroom that I am at my most submissive (as you would imagine). That is where I can leave Julie behind and just be his bitch. He is pretty creative and likes to keep a running commentary going. At the time I often think that this would make a great blog post, but then later can’t remember everything that was said. Maybe I should record it some time!

To be made to kneel and suck his cock when I’ve been thinking about other things helps me get into the right head space. I rarely say no to him. It isn’t that I am the most obedient slave but I tend to be compliant in certain circumstances. When it comes to sex and foreplay as well as the opportunity for bondage and impact play then I most definitely am.

My sex life now is completely different to how it used to be. We are old(wish) and don’t have loads of sex. But when we do it is kinky and very good. Long may it continue.

#AtoZChallenge 2020 Blogging from A to Z Challenge letter S
#AtoZChallenge 2020 Blogging from A to Z Challenge letter T