This is another Stoxx picture. Under the bed was a cage and of course I climbed inside. I admit that I like the idea of being a caged slave more than the reality. I do prefer the comfort of a soft mattress, but it makes for a good photo.
While I have alluded to his presence in my life some years ago, I have never actually written about Kevin on my blog. When we met for the first time he was the first person I had met through the internet. He lived about an hour away and was around 10 years older than me. I had never travelled to meet a man before and wasn’t even sure why I was meeting this one. He turned out to be kind, gentle and a good listener.
Kevin was originally from the North of the country, a former teacher turned local politician. He was a committed socialist, our values were similar, though several degrees to the left of mine. Kevin was married, he said his wife was busy doing her own thing and that she had also strayed. He was looking for a bit of fun. I wasn’t sure what I was seeking, but for a while Kevin filled the gaps in my life.
Over the course of a couple of summers we met every few weeks, for lunch and then a kiss and a cuddle. This often took place in a field or wooded area in the countryside. He fancied me like mad and touched me a lot. He gave amazing orgasms both with his hands and tongue. I hadn’t experienced the like before. Recently diagnosed diabetes has rendered him impotent, so much so that he was unable to get and erection. So he made every encounter about me.
Gradually we drifted apart. He definitely had other women, given he accidentally sent me the wrong text more than once. Plus he worked / volunteered crazy hours as a local politician, especially during elections. Then I met S and I told Kevin that I thought it best we didn’t meet any more. He was gracious and we continued to text each other on birthdays and Christmas. But I didn’t see Kevin after summer 2012.
A year or so ago, a message appeared on facebook saying he had been diagnosed with cancer and was about to start treatment. He was a long term smoker, perhaps I wasn’t massively surprised by the news. I texted to send good wishes and then when I received my own diagnosis I texted again and we exchanged a few words of encouragement to each other. I never heard from him again.
This week I decided to drop him a line to check how he was. I didn’t receive a reply. Today I googled him and discovered he died at the beginning of May. He was well known in his home town and so I found details of the death, funeral and a memorial service in his honour. A public occasion attended by 500 people. clearly a testimony to the man he was.
Kevin was a guy I knew for a while. He was kind and funny, passionate and loving. I don’t know if his wife knew of the other women in his life, my husband at the time certainly didn’t know. I am proud to have known him and sad that this is the only place I can say goodbye to him.
Today’s 30 days of D/s question is about what happens when the trials of life get in the way of a dominant / submissive relationship. Like most couples, we have had our challenges. Stuff has happened that has caused us to put our M/s dynamic onto the back burner a little. The most obvious ones were when my dad was ill and then died and when I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
My dad’s illness and death
My dad died of cancer in September 2014 when Master and I had only been together for 7 months. I regret that they never met each other, because I know they would have got on well. I didn’t introduce them because by the time things were getting serious between Master and I, my dad was already pretty unwell. But it just didn’t seem the right thing to do. This did however provide me with a haven, a place to go when things got difficult.
For the last few weeks I practically lives with my parents. Caring for dad, supporting my mum and family and dealing with practicalities. But this was massively draining, and other than my son, I really had no one to turn to. Master became a great source of support for me as well as a shoulder to cry on. He had lost his dad a few years before, so was able to provide the empathy I needed.
On the face of it our M/s took a back seat as I prioritised family. But, while I was busy making massive decisions and leading my family through the pain, Master was there behind me. Looking back, our dynamic may have been in the background, but it never disappeared. Shortly after the funeral, Master took me away to Amsterdam and there we were able to reaffirm my submission and his dominance.
The events of last autumn unsurprisingly hit us both very hard. During the run up to my surgery, there were numerous hospital appointments. For a while we took in the information we were given and made decisions together. This was done on an equal footing, with me having the final say about what would happen. As it was, there were no disagreements and we pretty much went along with the advice given by the doctors.
Master provided me with the most amazing support while I underwent surgery and recovered afterwards. We both struggled to come to terms with my new body shape and image. But helped each other cope. He was very firm with me during the following few months, making sure I didn’t do too much, had sufficient rest and got out and about as part of my recovery.
Just as happened when my dad died, our M/s dynamic was placed on the back burner, but never disappeared. Master continued to care for me and protected me. But this time our relationship was more established and of course by then we were living together.
Over all, I think that the big events we have encountered so far have strengthened our relationship. Both in terms of us as a couple, but also our dynamic.
Today’s 30 days of D/s post is about what happens to our dynamic when we are apart from each other. Until last summer there were days (and nights) most weeks when we were apart from each other. As my moving date got closer I found the stress built up. I definitely struggled without Master’s direct control. We Skyped every evening, but after a busy working day I had inevitably had a glass or three of wine by the time we got online. He would have done the same and this led to a certain level of misunderstanding and disengagement. In turn this added to the stress that just wasn’t there when we were together. I found it difficult to feel much like a slave during those times.
But things have changed now. The amount of time we apart has reduced considerably and we have also had time to get used to being together. Like everyone we have had to work hard at the together bit and I feel this has had a good effect on my sense of wellbeing when we are apart.
My mum lives 2 hours away from us and I usually visit her every fortnight and stay over. While with her, I have a different roles, but that doesn’t mean I forget that I am his slave. In fact being away gives me time to reflect on our time together. It allows space for me to consider my actions in the previous period and think about any behaviour changes needed. We don’t tend to speak, save for a few texts while I am away, we save our thoughts for when I return.
This September I am taking mum away to Cyprus for the second time and will be away for a week. During that time, I know she will test my patience and I will need regular contact with Master to keep me on the straight and narrow. But knowing this should help prevent any major problems. Plus I can always wear a butt plug to remind me of who I am and to whom I belong.
I’ve written a few times recently about rules. In September for Food for Thought Friday I wrote about the rules of life and a little about my relationship. Then in May, for this series I wrote about how we negotiated our power exchange relationship. But in this post I’ll go into a little more detail about our rules and how they impact our relationship.
Why have rules?
In a relationship such as this, it is important to know how the power exchange dynamic will work and with whom the buck stops. The key thing for me, the slave to remember is that I have agreed to give the power and responsibility for decision making to my Master. This rule is unwritten but understood. That isn’t to say I can’t move without having to ask, far from it. But in all important issues that involve us both I do defer to him.
This takes us to one of the reasons we have such rules. It’s because I need to give up the part of myself that seeks to control everything to him. There, I’ve said it – I need this and he knows it. What is more, he wants to take that control from me so that I am free to serve him and to be his submissive, his slave.
Then why do I fight against it?
It is difficult to change habits of an adult lifetime. It is hard to admit that this is what I need and even more difficult to become dependent upon someone else. I have fought hard through life for my independence, so why would I give it up? Well, I am and I am not. On one hand I am still free to make day to day decisions. But I don’t need to do so alone, nor do I need to have the final say. I can confer and I can ask for help. But it has taken 5 years to get to the realisation that I want it.
But, we are also codependent. He is my Master but also my partner and best friend. We discuss pretty much everything we are going to do that affects me or us both. He mostly discusses things he is thinking of with me, but doesn’t have to. This is a learning process for us both and is something we continue to work on. After all, we came together later in life than many couples.
We have recently been renegotiating the contract we agreed on in 2014. Much has changed since then, including that our relationship is more committed and that we live together. They can be found below.
- “This girl” freely and willingly gives control of her mind and her body to her Master Diogenes
- “This girl” freely and willingly gives her holes to her Master for His use and pleasure
- “This girl” freely and willingly gives her orgasms to her Master whenever He requires
- “This girl” freely and willingly gives her limits to her Master
- “This girl” will modify her body to please Her Master, including tattoos, piercings, hairstyle and shaping of her pubic hair as He requires
- “This girl” freely and willingly accepts that she is her Master’s registered slave under the number 798-167-302
- “This girl” wants and needs to serve her Master as His Pleasing Bitch
- “This girl” will try to please her Master in everything she does
- “This girl” accepts that her Master Diogenes is her Lord
- “This girl” will wear a buttplug twice a week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays in order to make her arse-cunt more pleasing for her Master
Many of the specific rules we had in place previously are now encompassed within number 8. I know what they are and tend to do them without thinking. But number 10 is one that i often forget to do and in fact need to attend to right now. Since today is Tuesday.
I struggle, even after all this time to understand my body’s reaction to pain. After all pain is meant to be a stimulus that warns us that things are not right, that we should take flight. But the right kind of pain delivered in a certain way isn’t at all like that.
Until I met S, I had never participated in play where pain led to sexual arousal. But when he told me that flogging my backside with a leather implement made my cunt ooze I felt excited. And so began a wonderful journey to pain and arousal.
Pain isn’t a huge element in the relationship Master and enjoy. But it is an important one. Pain is something reserved for play. The intimacy we exerience when I am leant over a bench, legs spread is unique. For him, the time he spends feeling between my legs for my reaction is as important as the impact of the lashes inflicted upon my cheeks.
I glow red for minues or perhaps an hour. But the effect on my cunt can last for days. I am a pain slut, but you won’t see the evidence visually. Instead the signs are subtle. Pain brings out my submissive nature, it helps me feel and see who I am. It shows him the impact (in many ways) of his actions and reminds me of what I am.
This is something that I never did. When I started to read about Dominance and submission the one thing I knew deep down was that I didn’t want to try such a thing with my then husband. There are a number of reasons for this.
The relationship has run it’s course
We had been married for nearly 30 years when I strayed. The relationship had limped along for years, more a friendship than a love affair. Of course, it is inevitable that a long-lasting relationship will lack that first flush of passion. Ours involved very little sex by the end, but it was more fundamental than that. I actually began to dislike being together, living in the same house. The little irritations that had been there all along started to play on my mind and feel much bigger than they probably were.
When I began to look for more excitement in my sex life and for a different type of relationship I knew that he wouldn’t be able to give me what I wanted, no matter how hard we tried.
He is not able to be dominant and I don’t want to be
I’m as sure as I can be that my husband would have been amenable to trying D/s. But he really isn’t able to be dominant all of the time. No doubt I could have switched with him, but the more I discovered about D/s the more I knew that would never work. I craved someone who would not only take me in hand in the bedroom, but who would carry it through.
The benefit of time and a good M/s relationship has proved me right
Looking at my life now and the interactions I still have with my ex show me that I am right. Also my observation of his current relationship is that my ex’s new partner is the more dominant one. She has picked up where I left off and provides the guiding hand that I became so tired of providing.
I know that I need the dominance of my Master. I need him to provide me with structure and control. I need the sex life we have, one which is kinky and exciting. I want and need the play that he plans and controls.
I know that many people have moved from a long standing vanilla relationship into a D/s one. I know that the change has saved a number of relationships. But I am sure that it would have been a disaster for me and may have prevented me from finding the happiness I now have.
The play area at Stoxx wasn’t short of mirrors. So there was no shortage of ways for our image to be reflected. This is me, restrained and suspended in the swing. Reflected for Master to enjoy.
You often read of slaves that have no limits and no safeword, but in essence I have both. As I wrote last time, Master takes care of my limits (though these were negotiated). I do have a safeword, but have never used it.
In both of my BDSM relationships we have used the traffic light system. Green when everything is good. During a scene it is important for the dominant partner to check in regularly that all is well. There might be occasions when the sub can’t speak (if gagged or in subspace) and so is unable to say the word. So non-verbal communication is vital. I’ve found it is perfectly easy to communicate green (or another colour to Master even if gagged, by nodding, eye contact or some kind of hand signal.
Amber often denotes some kind of limit is being reached. Perhaps the pain is becoming intense or restraint uncomfortable. Sometimes an adustment is needed but other times it is time to push the limit a little. Again, eye contact, verbal and non verbal communication helps identify when it is ok to continue and when things should stop. I called yellow recently (though didn’t actually say the word yellow) when tied to a St Andrew’s cross.
My right arm doesn’t have the same range of movement it did before my mastectomy. I wanted to try it but found that after a few minutes I had to ask to be untied. Because we know each other well and Master was attentive we reached my limit and he untied me. This has just made me want to get that arm more supple so it is ok to be tied in that way in the future.
Red is my safeword. I have never actually used it as I have never felt the need. However, I would and being Master’s slave wouldn’t stop me. It is testament to him that we have never needed to move past amber or me asking for a break. He is respectful of my needs and always keeps a close eye on how I am doing.
Perhaps I don’t really need a safe word? But if I ever felt I did it is there.
I think I have mentioned before that I am a member of a facebook group for people with or who have had breast cancer. It is a place where people support each other through treatment and recovery, recurrence and general daily life. People who are struggling with problems they can’t speak to loved ones about. Of course, there are positive posts too, news of a wedding, baby, new house, new relationship. One thing has struck me though. While people will happily describe the symptoms of their cancer or side effects of treatment in graphic detail, often including photos. They skirt around sex and relationships in the most interesting way. Breast cancer can play havoc with your sex life. But sadly it seems that the word sex is pretty much unmentionable.
Sex as a taboo subject
I wonder how many people talk to their friends about their sex lives. It is easy to sit here as part of a sex blogging community and imagine that every one does it. But in reality they don’t. Indeed I don’t discuss my sex life with people I know, but then I also don’t have a close friend to confide in. But if I did, would I? This spot on the internet is a safe place, most of us are anonymous to a greater or lesser degree. I find it much easier to describe my most intimate moments on my blog than to describe them in public.
But I have no qualms about using the actual words for what I am trying to say. I wouldn’t act like some 70’s sitcom cast member and wink or blush if I needed to say the word sex. I prefer to use proper anatomical names rather than a euphemism. And certainly if someone asks a question on an online forum then I am going to answer with reference to the actual word.
I actually think the lady was brave to raise an unmentionable topic
Even though she referred to sex as ‘being intimate’. Indeed she might not have meant sex, she may have meant that she didn’t want her partner to see her naked. But unfortunately everyone who responded skirted around the topic in the same way she had. Mentioning relationship issues and the fact that the tablets they were taking had stopped them feeling like letting their partner close.
Further conversation though identified her actual issue. She was frightened that if she became aroused and orgasmed then the hormones would make her cancer worse. This is because like mine, her cancer is hormone dependent. So she had put 2 and 2 together and made 22.
I and another lady were able to reassure her that the hormones we produce during sexual pleasure will not affect or cause breast cancer. But I wonder why it is left to an online forum of peers to impart this information. It does feel like a reasonable assumption to make when people vaguely refer to hormones.
Mentioning the unmentionable
Sex is such a difficult topic to raise as a patient. In the mix of surgery, treatment options and general issues of body image, sex is pretty much no where. As a nurse I found it a challenge to discuss with my patients too, though I did. In my last clinical role, I worked with people with rheumatoid arthritis, often with young women. Being able to find a comfortable position, dealing with the side effects of treatment and general tiredness and pain were all factors. So I made myself ask the unmentionable questions, even though I’d really rather have not.
Society in general would rather people didn’t mention sex or their sex lives. But if we are to move away from sex as taboo we need to start somewhere. I guess an online forum for people with breast cancer is as good a place as any to start.