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

Inspiration and blocks – F4TF

I have kept a blog for probably 10 years, and have been writing this one for well over 5. In that time my content has ebbed and flowed. There is nothing like a new relationship or exciting situation to get the creative juices flowing. But at other times, inspiration is difficult to come by. What is more, it is a challenge to keep things fresh and to refrain from repeating yourself, too much.

This week’s Food For Though Friday is about Inspiration and blocks as a blogger. These are mine,

Where do the ideas for your content come from?

My blog has always been, and probably always will be predominantly about me and my life. So, if things are going very well or very badly, I will have no trouble thinking of something to write about. At other times, I rely on memes and prompts to help me along. 

I would love to write fiction, but really struggle with ideas for stories, whatever the genre. I don’t lack imagination, but unless it has happened, or I can see it happening to me I find it difficult to document. Perhaps years of writing factual reports for work has affected my ability to write fiction. When I was much younger, I wrote stories in long hand in exercise books. I no longer have them, so can’t really comment on quality, but I wasn’t short of ideas. They were often pretty erotic too. 

How do you get inspiration? Who or what inspires what you post?

We are so lucky to have other bloggers and writers to help provide inspiration to us within this community. There are so many talented people, thinking up ideas, running memes and competitions. Then there are those that participate, who inspire content and ideas. Some of my favourites: 

  • Molly’s memes – Sinful Sunday and Kink of the week as well as elust which provides a monthly list of top sex blog posts, reviewed and rated by their peers
  • Marie from Rebel’s Notes – Wicked Wednesday a weekly meme, Smut Marathon an erotic writing competition and Smut Relay a story being written by different bloggers over several months
  • Kayla Lords – Masturbation Monday, another weekly meme and her other projects including the Smutlancer and the Loving BDSM podcast
  • F4TF by Kilted Wookie – which I am participating in right now
  • All of the bloggers above also write their own posts which provide further thought and inspiration. 
  • At other times I have joined in with 30 days of submission or kink and other such memes that are more of a one off. 
  • Then there are bloggers who seem to have little difficulty with their own inspirations and are great at providing others with ideas. I especially enjoy reading May More, Cara Theron, Posy Churchgate and Floss
  • Of course there are more ways of being inspired, and there are others out there providing that inspiration. Sometimes it is just a matter of visiting and commenting and suddenly realising you have a whole post to write in response. 
How do you decide  what to share, and why?

I try write stuff that is interesting to me and also importantly my Master. If no one else finds it exciting, that is ok, because it is my blog and I am writing in the main for our benefit. Sometimes my writing becomes personal, such as is the case right now. At other times it is fun or frivolous. It isn’t always easy to want to write and to share personal things, sometimes it feels dull and boring. But for me it is about being true to myself. Not much of my life is hidden, but in the main I avoid mentioning exact locations, other people who prefer to remain anonymous, specific details about my work and of course family. Other than that, what you see is pretty much what you get. 

The deed is done

The rollercoaster events of the past few weeks came to a conclusion yesterday. Once the decision for me to have a mastectomy was made last Wednesday we began to make plans for the weekend. Being away from home helped, and while we obviously discussed the operation, we also concentrated on having a good time.

The music festival got off to a great start with workshops about the poetry of Lord Byron and it’s musical settings, followed by a day on Debussy. There were evening concerts and meals in our favourite restaurants.

On Saturday night we drank a little too much, and Master took a few photographs of me naked in our Airbnb living room. I don’t know if we will ever show them, but we have a few good shots for ourselves.

Sunday was spent at a study session, learning about classical composers and their music across European and transatlantic borders. Then we travelled home. Driving home in the rain we encountered heavy traffic, but once home spent the evening quietly.

By now we both felt ready to face the inevitable. It was time to get this operation done. The time for commiserations done. On Monday morning I had an early breakfast and then we went back to bed for a while. Snuggled together he stroked and kissed me before bidding farewell to my right breast.

It turned out to be a long day

Although we arrived at the hospital at 12.30, I didn’t go for the operation until 4.30. My son came over to spend the afternoon with us. A slightly surreal but pleasant afternoon passed.

My first ever anaesthetic and operation passed smoothly and by 6.45pm I had woken up. I was amazingly awake and felt pretty good. The first face I saw as I arrived back on the ward was Master’s. A feeling of immense relief passed over me. Within minutes I was speaking to my son on the phone to reassure him all was well.

As I lay in my bubble of post surgery euphoria, I snuck a peek inside the front of my gown. My left breast remains in tact, its nipple still holding the plastic bar I bought for the operation. My right side is flat, the wound hidden by dressings, it’s breast and nipple is no more.

There were 4 of us women in our shared bay, all recovering from surgery for breast cancer. After Master and other visitors had left we lay in our beds talking about our experiences to date. Reflecting on this shared journey. Our nurses were kind and compassionate, encouraging us to talk.

It was a long night

Only one of us slept last night and that someone wasn’t me. The ward was quiet, but each of us had our lower legs encased in machinery designed to prevent thrombosis. The intermittent noise generated by each one seemed to prevent sleep. Added to this, regular observations by the diligent nursing staff and alarms elsewhere meant none of us slept for more than a few minutes at a time. Still the sence of cameradey carried us through to breakfast at 7am.

While the two women who had lumpectomies headed home at lunchtime, two of us remain for another night. I am hopeful of being sent home tomorrow. I faced my bare chest in the bathroom mirror this morning as I washed and don’t relish the thought of seeing my scar. But this has to be faced, and now hopefully the cancer is gone. Difficult days lie ahead for me and for him. But we are facing this together.

Treatment plan

Yesterday morning, in my Wicked Wednesday post I wrote about the coming couple of weeks and my hopes for the impending surgery. In the afternoon I saw my consultant and now have the treatment plan.

Unfortunately the tumour is twice the size that showed on ultrasound. I was reassured it doesn’t mean it has grown that much over the past month. But that this kind of cancer is difficult to measure. This means I need a mastectomy rather than lumpectomy. 

The options for a breast reconstruction were explained to us. I am really not keen on having one largish breast and one completely flat area for ever more. So, I was hoping for a reconstruction at the time of surgery. However, the surgeon explained that the radiotherapy could damage a silicone implant. With a 40% chance of requiring further surgery because of this, we felt this was a no go. So, in a years time I will have a reconstruction by a plastic surgeon, that will take some of my own tissue to be formed into a breast. People, I get a tummy tuck too!! 

I have tried hard to be positive over the past month, since the biopsy was taken. But I feel the rug has been pulled from beneath me and I am struggling emotionally now. Thankfully, I only have till Monday to consider the decisions that have been taken. By that evening my right breast will be gone. I am luckier than most, I doubt many people have the library of photos we have of my breasts. But I don’t know how painful it will be to look at them afterwards. Especially in those first few days. 

I intend to try to be body positive about this and when the time is right I will show my body on my blog.

The road ahead will be challenging, but I have Master to support me and I have nice things to do. Today we leave for our music festival until Sunday and will return when I am well enough to do so. 

Thank you for the kind words of support here on my blog and twitter, it helps to be part of this wonderful community. 

My space

This weeks Food 4 Thought Friday prompt is all about self care, something that I have considered much more over past few weeks. It is so easy to be wrapped up in work, family, friends, household chores etc. Less easy to find the space for yourself. This was very true for me over the past few years. Reading back over older blog posts I can see how my life was a circle of work, getting the house ready to sell, helping my mum move and finally my own move. Of course there have been wonderful holidays and weekend breaks, but often they are busy times. Finally now I can and also need to have time for myself and us. 

What activities do you indulge in to take care of you?

In the time since I finished work most of the self care has been reasonably sedentary. My body and brain needed to relax and unwind. The two holidays I have taken have been relaxing, I have read novels for the first time this year and strolled rather than rushed. I have also begun to blog more, but also read what others have written. 

Some of the things I like to do to relax include walking – exploring new places, eating nice food and drinking good wine. I have my sewing which has taken for ever to finish. I also like to be pampered – a manicure, pedicure, facial, not that I have had those for a long time. 

How regularly do you make time for yourself?

As I mentioned above, time for me was previously in short supply. Now though I can indulge myself and since my recent cancer diagnosis I need to. Finally family are giving me permission to concentrate on myself, but it is a shame that wasn’t the case before. 

My priority is my health and wellbeing and our relationship. For now, that is how it will be.

Is your sex life part of your self-care regime and, if so, what part does it play and how?

Sex is certainly part of the plan. But also the opportunity to spend time together while naked. To be allowed orgasms and to provide sexual service to my Master. I am not sure how my libido will be affected by the impending treatment. But meantime it seems wise to indulge ourselves. 

Health and healing

Health and illness

I think that most of us take our physical and probably emotional health for granted. Especially if you have had very little cause to do otherwise. I know I have.

Even though I have been a nurse for over 30 years, some of them looking after people who are very sick or dying. Even though my dad died 4 years ago this week and I cared for him at the end. I have taken my health for granted.

Unfortunately I can no longer do that. A week ago I received news that the biopsy taken earlier in the month was malignant. Today we have been to see the breast surgeon and specialist nurse. I now know the type of cancer – invasive lobular breast cancer and stage; 2. It is estimated to be 3cm, but with this type of cancer it is difficult to estimate size even with ultrasound. So in the next few days I will have an MRI scan. Next month I will have surgery, hopefully a lumpectomy of the tumour is no bigger than 3cm.

Healing

It is very difficult to think about the healing process right now. I am just moving from diagnosis to decision-making into the treatment phase of this condition. But what I can see is that I need to consider my whole self, physical and emotional in order that I will heal completely. My emotions are pretty mixed up. I feel annoyed that this has happened right now, just when we are ready to enjoy life. On the other hand, I am glad there is no work to deal with as I don’t think I could manage that kind of stress. I feel sad that I can’t really plan stuff to do at the moment, but will now have to take every day / week as it comes. Treatment won’t end with the surgery. Then there is my body image, something I wrote about last week. I have always been proud of my breasts, and Master absolutely loves them. There is a possibility that I will need a mastectomy, though this will also include reconstruction surgery. Whatever happens though, my body will look and feel different.

Healing for me while all of this is going on will be about continuing to do the things we enjoy. I can see that doing normal things like going to concerts and films, seeing friends and family will be vital. Time too, spent relaxing, just being together, reading, watching tv, sewing and of course blogging. I also want to try to lose this extra weight I am carrying and take some exercise.

Health and healing has taken on a new meaning for me, but I will be concentrating on the parts of it that I can control and leave the rest to the health professionals.

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

 

My body and me

I have always had difficult relationship with my body. I spent years believing I was fat and so hiding it away. Only to discover later, while looking back at old photos that I was slim. By then of course I’d put on a few stones. Before my pregnancy I had pretty small tits, but they grew and grew and thankfully stayed that way, even after I had breastfed.

Master says he likes my body, and that he wants something to grab hold of. I believe him and am comfortable in my own skin when I am around him. I love that he finds me sexy and arousing, even though I struggle to see it myself.

My mum has never held back from showing off her body. My son recently remarked that he found going holiday with nan a bit embarrassing, especially when she sunbathed topless. I never did so around him, partly after getting burnt in my youth, but mainly to avoid his blushes. Also, I thought I was fat, even when i wasn’t.

Hiding

Last Wednesday I arrived in Cyprus with my right breast covered in 2 large dressings. The day before, I attended a screening one stop clinic where I had 2 areas biopsied. A small area of calcium deposits was detected on the mammogram taken last month. The breast lump I had already found wasn’t seen on the xrays. I’m a nurse and I didn’t realise that would be the case. After much prodding, poking and an ultra sound scan, the area was biopsied. I still have a massive bruise to show for it.

The dressing was visible above my top, but if mum noticed it she said nothing. Sitting on the plane beside her, I wondered what I should say. As is often the case between she and I my decision was to say nothing. If the biopsies are negative she doesn’t need to know. However, since we are sharing a room this has presented a problem. And has led to me scurrying into the bathroom to dress, change and undress. It is a completely different situation to how things would be if I were home or indeed Master were here.

My reticence about speaking of my biopsy, of showing my body to others and in particular my mum exposes a deeper issue. She is not good with other people’s problems, she certainly managed to make my dad’s illness about her. But also we tolerate each other rather than enjoy each others company. Earlier in the week she actually described me as her carer, which I guess this week, I am.

But my inability to speak about the biopsy is also about me. It is about me coming to terms with changes in my own body. This summer I have developed a number of problems, including the lump. I am not healing as i did, bruises are taking longer to fade and disappear and there is something not right.

I don’t know if this is cancer or not, I will know on Thursday. But if it is, there will be no more hiding. If all is well, then maybe I need to take some lessons from this experience and value my body more. It’s the only one I have.

30th September

The outcome of the biopsy and next steps can be found here

Longing

After almost 2 months of living with Master i find myself far away from him, on holiday with my mum. Suffice to say, I am missing him. This post is about the things I am longing for

To begin with I was worried that I had lost something of my identity, that caring role I both love and despise. But very soon we settled into our own new routine of cooking, eating and clearing up together. In my previous life, I decided what to cook prepared it and then cleared away. This life is different already, those decisions are being made and enacted together. This may seem like nothing, but in my experience it paves the way for much much more. Evenings spent together snuggled on the sofa watching TV, or sitting separately reading, discussing current affairs or listening to music, lost in our own world.

I am missing that feeling of closeness and easy silence. But also the sex, the kink and erotic times that are ever present in our lives. Sleeping in a single bed and waking up next your mother just doesn’t feel the same. I long to feel his body pressing against my back as I stir in the early morning stillness. I want to feel his cock grow and harden as it pushes against my lower back. His hand resting on my breast. To know he is awake because he has stroked me or squeezed a nipple.

I long to hear his voice, to ask ‘did girl sleep well?’ To see his eyes gleam when I tell him I need to pee. Knowing he wants to watch, or even have me pass my gold onto his body as he sits in the bath. I miss the way Master seems to be reading a business article online, but them starts to wank himself and when I lean in to see, he has switched to porn. Sometimes when I lay pretending to sleep he is wanking, irritatingly shaking the bed. I like to complain he is stopping me sleeping. He laughs and tells me he is getting ready to service his girl. How I would love to be used by him today.

I want to feel his hands on my body, his fingers exploring my holes, his tongue on my clit. To know his cock is rubbing against my piercing. That little jolt of almost pain as he pushes into my tight cunt. I would love those things right now.

Instead I am here, on a sunbed in Cyprus while my lover is at home. The brownie points I am earning from my mum mean though that when I get home we will hopefully be left in peace. For at least a little while. In a few days, the longing will be over and I will be in his arms. Them I may well fleetingly wish to be back here, in the sun. But perhaps with him!

Some day

So many things that I wanted to do have become reality. The fact that Master and I are living together, that we have the time to do the things we want together is wonderful. Last weekend we attended our third CMnf – Clothed Male, naked female – event. This time I was so relaxed about everything that I had no hesitation in getting stripped off straight away. I wore nothing all afternoon other than a lovely chain harness that we bought at BBB a few weeks ago. I love the way it frames my breasts – there will definitely need to be a photo on the blog soon. 

But this week I have had cause to reflect on the concept of waiting to do things ‘some day’s versus getting on and doing them now. For two years Master and I spent time working on my house and garden. I know this because over the past couple of months  numerous posts have reappeared on Facebook. Repairing the shed, painting fences, decluttering, painting walls. The same with women, for a long time I knew I had had enough but that moving house and giving up work would have to happen around the same time.

Those things have now happened and our time is our own. Now we can plan for new dreams, a new some day. Well hopefully yes. But as I lay on a doctor’s couch on Tuesday having a lump in my breast biopsied, I did consider that perhaps we should now just do what we want when we want to. My dream of having more time to myself didn’t involve breast cancer treatment, and maybe it wont come to that. I will know next week.

I now wonder about the 2 years of procrastination, of doing things right for my ex. I wonder if I should have been harder faced and concentrated more on what we needed for us. There is no turning back, butmaybe a realisation that thinking you’ll do things some day is the wrong approach. If you can, do it now.

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

Taking a risk

Up until my 50th birthday approached, I had taken few risks, well certainly not ones involving sex and relationships. As I’ve mentioned a number of times before, at that time I was living with my husband of nearly 30 years, the only man I’d had sex with. On a couple of occasions when bored, lonely or both I had chatted online or on the phone to men. I even met one guy, but he was unable to have sex, just as well really since I didn’t fancy him. He became a friend for a while and there were certain benefits, such as some good orgasms. I guess technically I was cheating on my husband, but I told myself that unless actual intercourse took place it was ok.

When I started chatting to S though, everything changed. For the first time I was sexually aroused and attracted to a man I had never met. Over the course of a couple of weeks I found myself doing things to please him. Weird since usually I dressed and did things for myself. I wanted to meet this man, but didn’t know how to make it happen. I lived 2 hours by car from him, was married and worked full time. He on the other hand had no transport other than his work van, and that belonged to the company. By luck I was due to go on a course in London for 2 days, though there was no real reason to stay over. So I invented one, the course was intense and everyone else was staying over. Why my husband believed me, I don’t know, other than that he trusted me.

So it was that at the end of the first day of the course I made my way to a hotel in a small town south of London, by train. When I arrived at the station it was raining, there were no taxis, I had no idea if there was a bus and S was still travelling from work. I got out my phone and walked in the rain the mile or so to the hotel, which was really a pub with rooms. This was one of S’s favourite things, a small hotel or B&B, no chance then of invisibility. Thankfully the receptionist was expecting me and S had paid in advance. I went up to the room.

It was at this point that I fully understand the potential danger I was putting myself in. I was going to meet, have sex with and sleep with a stranger. No one knew where I was and I had no means of getting away quickly. But I was excited by the prospect of these things too. A crazy middle aged woman who should have known better.

But actually it was ok. I had a shower and changed into the clothes he had asked me to wear. S arrived and I went to the bar while he showered, then he joined me. Admittedly it wasn’t much later before the clothes were off and we were having sex. It was my choice and I don’t regret it. I did however take a massive risk.