A guy I knew

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.

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When life gets in the way

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.

Breast cancer

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.

Loving BDSM 30 Days of D/s

Holding hands

Two people, a man and a woman holding hands.

There is something very special about holding hands with someone you love and care for. It is a way of being intimate with them, of feeling close to them but in a way that is conforms and is acceptable within social norms. What I mean is, holding a lovers hand while in the street is acceptable, while grabbing their tit isn’t. Equally we will hold the hand of a child for safety and protection as much as anything else. This topic has me thinking about the people whose hands I have held during my life.

Being a child

I distinctly remember that I wasn’t the kind of child that wanted to be cuddled or held. I am pretty sure I would have been a nightmare to keep safe when out and about. Except in those days, our parents put reins on us. This was a kind of leather harness that went around the chest, with a strap for a parent to hold. Either that or I was probably holding onto a pram or push chair since I was the eldest of 3. The middle of us was born when I was 18 months and my younger brother when I was 5. I guess I must have held hands with a parent, but don’t remember. However I do remember holding the hand of my little brother.

He and I were very close, I often liked to mother him being the big sister. He loved to hold my hand, or sit on my lap or generally be close. I guess that told me that one day hand holding would become a thing for me.

Getting a boyfriend

As a teenager, nothing informed people about the fact you had got yourself an actual boyfriend quite like being seen in public holding hands. Except being seen snogging (as we called it), that is. In the early days my ex and I held hands a lot. We also sat together on the sofa when at either parents and even when we got our own place. Holding hands when out was definitely about possession, but also closeness and intimacy. Somewhere along the way that diminished over time. We also of course acquired a child who often walked between us.

Being a mother

To begin with they grasp your finger in their hand and then later you take their little hand as they begin to take their first faltering steps. I loved it when my little boy grabbed my hand, when he needed reassurance or to feel safe. He was a different child to the one I had been, more like my brother. I was his mum though and so keeping him safe, providing care and love was my job. Sometimes of course he clung to me to stop me leaving him and I know that within minutes he was holding the hand of another adult – a carer, teacher, his dad. I can’t deny though that I loved the fact that he wanted to be with me, to hold my hand. That he would climb on my lap and settle down and then take my hand. For anyone reading this who has small children, relish those days. Because suddenly they are grown up and instead are holding the hand of another.

The last touch

During the final days of my dads life we cared for him at home. I took time off of work to be with he and my mum as well as other family members. For the last week or so, I stayed over too. I spent many hours holding his hand as he lay in bed growing weaker and weaker. I guess I held his hand more then, than I ever had as a child. But it was important to let him know that I was there even when he was unable to communicate to us verbally. Those memories stay with me and I am grateful for them.

Now

We hold hands on the sofa watching tv and we hold hands when we are at the theatre or a concert. We probably held hands while at Eroticon last weekend. Less frequently though, we hold hands when we are out. Master has the habit of seeming to be in a hurry even when he isn’t. He can’t bare people dawdling in front of us, getting in the way. So he tends to walk more quickly and then have to wait for me to catch up.

Late at night though, when there are fewer people and we are heading home from somewhere, then we will often hold hands.

I am 56 now, not 16 so I really don’t mind. It is often difficult to walk along holding hands when people around you are looking at their phones rather than the path. When there are obstacles in the way. Anyway I don’t need to be holding his hands to know that I am his, and that he is mine. These days though, I do love to hold hands.

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Settling in

Another Saturday and another day spent sorting and unpacking things in the summer heat. Settling in to my new life is going to take time.

On the whole, I am enjoying coming in from work and having my dinner cooked for me. No need to decide what to cook or eat, no worries. And yet, I am not sure that is how I want my life to be. Nor, will it be like this as we move forward. I had a slight moment on Wednesday when I panicked about having no role. But in truth it is part of readjusting to life as it is now. Anyway, within a month things will be different.

I am now in the final month of my notice period. I have begun to sort files, delete old stuff and tie up loose ends. Luckily the person taking on my job is someone I know and work with so the hand over should be straight forward. The good byes will be more difficult and the leaving do a little poignant. We are going to look at a possible venue after work on Monday, my birthday.

Moving on

This month really is one of good byes and moving on to a new life. Yesterday was my mother in law’s funeral. For the first time in 4 or 5 years, I saw my father in law and my ex’s family. While a sad occasion, as she died suddenly, it was also pleasant. I enjoyed seeing everyone and chatting to people I was once quite close to. I came away feeling that this was all part of ending my old life and moving on to the new one. Another part of settling in.

Perhaps things happen as they do for a reason.

So, to this blog.

For the whole time I have been writing it, the blog has been about a journey. About self discovery, about moving on and finding my place in the world. Latterly it has been about finding my slave place, about our sex and kink life.

There is still more of that to do, but this feels like a defining time for me. Will the focus of the blog change? Will I write about different things? What do I actually want to write about?

The past month has been a whirlwind of a time. We have been so busy that there has been precious little sex and kink. There has been no real time to write the blog, even if I had felt inclined. Now though I need to get myself back on track, probably through some of the memes.

Please though, dear reader, bear with me while I find my new place. While I am settling in to my new role, find time and the words to write.

I sense there will be exciting times and lots to say.
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The unknown

As a family we are now at the point where we don’t know how long dad has left. He has been in bed for 9 days, firstly upstairs in the bed he shared with mum and since Thursday downstairs. We didn’t expect things to take the turn they did as quickly as they did. The night before he took to bed, he had been for a meal out with my brother. That day he had pottered around his garden. Now his world has shrunk to one room.

At times, he is animated, happy to engage in the world around him. That happened today when my niece visited with his great grandson. But mostly he sleeps. Getting him to drink is difficult, to eat, impossible.

Mostly those present are family. We combine our caring roles and discussing the difficulties we face with normal life activities and discussion. We try to reassure mum that she is doing well. At times between us we complain at the way she struggles to cope. But really this is a defence mechanism for us all. Tonight she confessed she doesn’t know how to use the dishwasher; that was always dad’s job. No wonder she has rushed to wash every plate and cup as it became used.

We don’t know how long dad has left. We know it isn’t long, but how long we just don’t know. We are now living day to day. Trying to explain to outsiders that life is on hold. Meanwhile work continues, life continues. As a nurse, I know that every death is different, that we are dealing with the unknown.

Knowing that he suffers. That he is sad that he is experiencing the end of his life, I wonder if it is bad that I hope that he gets what he needs soon. Trouble is, that for us the pain is just beginning.