Struggling

I am struggling.

For the last year (or nearly a year) I have had the great luck to be living with an amazing gent who shares in my pervy interests.  It has been the most blissful and joyous period of my life.

Over the last few weeks things have changed.  Be it me, be it him, we are not connecting on that power exchange level that fills me with self acceptance, joy, and that 'full cupboard' feeling.  We instead are more like room mates, passing in the hallway but yet not connected.  Play as decreased rapidly to its current state of non existence.

Have I once again broken a man?  I have taken a man who loved sex, loved to play laugh and cause me the most exquisite pain, and I have broken him.. I have turned him into (prepare yourself...)...


A muggle.


A muggle who wants a vanilla relationship with me (for now? forever? till I freak? not...sure...)
Once again, I have improved my personal self, only to find myself alone in a house with the person I am with.

First time (first marriage) I lost 55 lbs and started school.  My marriage went from rocky but passionate, to hellacious and empty.

Second time I gained my degree, found personal growth and my marriage disintegrated.

Now I am sitting here... after being so damned determined to NEVER do this again (this being share space, be in a hearts and flowers relationship) finding that as my life comes together even more (I am getting in shape, starting to make a bit more money, nearly done my BA) that his interest may have faded.

Sigh...

No clue where I am going from here... so many things to think about, so much to consider.

Can I be in a vanilla relationship?

Do I want to?

I really don't think I can.

I will tell you one thing that will be different this time.  This time I will be taking this to my Sir.  I will be sharing my hurt, my fear and my burden with him.

Incredible Journey: Sunday at Luper

Even though my Sir, Firm-Hand-Buddha had played fairly hard upon my ass and etc Friday night, by Sunday I had not a mark, which has been something Firm-Hand-Buddha has heard a great deal of whining about. I have a friend who is fairly new to the lifestyle and has that lovely skin that marks beautifully, and I am jealous!! My marks these days fade within an hour. This silly yearning for marks has led me to do all sorts of silly things, from using exfoliating cleansers on my ass to derma-abrasion... but to no avail. The skin of my ass just heals like magic these days.

The dungeon was much busier this time (in comparison to Friday). Our favorite benches were in use, and Sir decided to forgo playing with his new wand. (Yes I was disappointed dammit!! But as a spank-a-holic I prevailed and did not drag my feet at all.. .much. Sir picked out a kneeling style bench, and kindly did not use any of the eye-bolts to restrain me.

He loosened my corset, quite a bit, which is usually a sign that this is going to be long and hard-otherwise usually it is just enough for me to bend. I love my corset, just in case anyone was wondering. I could see his boots, and reached as if to untie his laces, which of course got me that playful, "Don't think about it!" (Why do those words make me so wet??)

Sir's warm up was short and sweet, leaving my backside very warm and eliciting all sorts of blush causing sounds from me. I could clearly hear the conversation of the leather folk in front of me, which, for whatever reason, added to my head space. It was Swat! Smack! "Hmmm, How about the weather here? It's so windy" Smack! Moan, Blush, writhe. "Did anyone see.." I felt as if I was of no note, not important at all. Even when the comments may have been about me or Sir (or not) it was so indirect that I felt completely objectified. Not usually my thing, really, but this time, in this moment, it was perfect.

Again I was facing the crowd (was i the only one that noted that most equipment seemed to be this way this year? Am I the only one that likes to hide their face?). With all the over-stimulation of the weekend, between classes, the market, the hundreds of kink folk everywhere...well I was not finding it difficult to sink into that lovely cocoon of safe and yummy that some call subspace.

Sir, perhaps in response to how easily I was managing his initial erm high spirited swats, stepped up his game. I swear, the moment I was able to find my rhythm, there he was smacking harder, faster or in more tender spots. My hands were not fastened and I writhed, often grabbing his leg in a desperate measure to be able to not make a spectacle of myself. I would sink into that yummy space and Sir would grin evilly (or so I imagined) and pull me up just a bit.. I would finally sink again and he would up the ante and yard me out again. I have no idea how I managed to not lift off that bench.
And so we danced.

He led the dance with his implements, working my skin and nerves to exhaustion. His hand swinging to a beat only he can hear as he led me through bucking, moaning, begging, and yes giggling. The music added an element to the dance in a very ... strong way.

He beat me and my body begged for more. He drew from me sounds, motions and emotions-I could feel myself being molded-filling with a need to just be all he demanded. In that instant I submitted in a way I had never really felt before. This was no longer about my love of spankings (etc), but this was about us. About him. About giving over myself. It was a beautiful moment.
My body followed his without my willing it. I bucked for him, I squirmed for him, I raised my hips to help him. i quivered, I sobbed, I moaned. I didn't give a flying shit if I looked ridiculous, sounded pathetic... all I cared about was the dance, his lead, the moment.

I have no idea what this was in reality, but from where I was it felt frantic, as if the speed and force were so erratic and out of control, as my hands scrambled for a way to anchor me, my hips lifted and churned... I was certainly frantic. Nothing hurt but I felt as if I had become the dance-I was the the tempo.

Then things slowed. Time fragmented as I felt ebony against my skin. i could hear my breathing, my whimpers, and every inch of my skin tingled and pulsed as he pressed that dreaded and loved paddle against my skin. My hips lifted, my body melted, relaxed.

The impact streamed red, and I begged, writhed, found my center and again lifted, and melted. And again. And again. And I had not vision of this ever ending, no concept for anything but this incredible dance. My world had become narrowed down to this sensation, the feel of my bruised flesh yeilding...
I could hear Sir talking to me, his voice wrapping around me and i became aware that I was sobbing.. Tears streamed my face. My first coherent thought was "Oh my gawd.. Am I drooling?"
As I came back into my head, Sir's hand stroking my back and face, I finally clued in to what he was saying. I don't remember the phrasing, but he had drawn blood.

With my inner voice screaming hysterically (I hate blood, no blood nooooooooooo) I calmly asked how bad it was. (points for me!). He had just smacked a welt, and it was merely a droplet. I had no idea what the dungeon protocol for this was, so we agreed he should find the DM and find out. And get a band-aid.

So there i was, DM and Sir peering at my ass while I died a thousand deaths of embarrassment, and I look up and straight into a set of friendly eyes, watching with interest. i know we spoke, but high as I still was, and as red faced as I surely was, I remember not a word, other than he was amused and I laughed as well. All while my Sir and a man I barely met are poking at my ass.

Sir wrapped me up, helped me up and half carried me to a chair. By the time he returned with a band-aid i was hyper as hell, bouncing and giddy.

Thank you Sir, for taking me to new places. For understanding how to give me what I need and never making me feel like a freak. For creating this safe, and yes damn you sacred place where I am free to be me.

Thank you to those in the crowd that unwittingly added to my scene, bwahaha. And of course, thanks to the DM.

PS. It is 8 days later and I have some lovely marks still. While I get that I can't be playing like that all the time, (sigh) this made my day!!

Introduction to a sadistic, devious FemDom (me)

All names have been changed. This series is a mix of fact and fiction
I am starting at the beginning... if you want to skip the introspection and go to the 'fun parts' go to part TWO.
A while back a dear dear friend of mine, Daniel, trusted me enough to ask me to play a role in his fantasy. He wanted to spend several days being utterly owned and dominated by a female (I guess that would be me), or females (plural). I agreed to consider it and then spent a couple of months trying to envision it, exploring my thoughts on it.
I rope top easily, it's true. I have done a great deal of topping within a scene or session. I love flogging and I am a spanking enthusiast, (all types of spankings, it is my MAIN fetish). In my mind, however, Topping is mostly a physical thing. Yes, I use mind tricks and role play. But a Domme... well that is different. I was not sure I could take him where he wanted to go. I was not sure I could let my sadist out without dire consequences. I know myself fairly well. I can be incredibly mean-and enjoy every moment of my victim's suffering. I keep this in check, for a few reasons. First and foremost, it makes me very uncomfortable with myself. Secondly, I have never had access to a pain slut/emotional pain slut who would enjoy such treatment, even as (s)he hates it. Thirdly, I also don't like the emotional drop I get after. It requires a great deal of aftercare, for me, when I do let evil bitch out. Last, but not least, is a bad experience I had when playing with a lovely lady, Dianna, who craved that meanness, in which a scene went badly due largely in part to my inexperience. She and I made it through, and remain friends, but still...
So this was a challenge. Added to this, the gent in question is someone I consider a role model. Daniel is the closest thing I have to a parental type male role model. (He is not old enough to be my father, but I do turn to him for the advice and moral support one normally gets from their parents.) I had to come to terms with un-pigeon-holing him. (its a word now, dammit). I also had to put aside my reaction to Daniel as an authority figure.
I am a closet priss as well. While I am most comfortable talking about sex, discussing naughty things in general, I am very private and blushy about my personal sex life. Some of what Daniel was asking would require me to put aside that left over prissiness my exposure to rigid religion left me with. There is a fine line between what is ok and what is not as far as my relationship goes with FHB, as well. We are an monoamoury couple, as are Daniel and his partner Cindi. So the negotiations needed to include our partners, respect everyone's boundaries, and yet still create enough of the fantasy that it would be worth my and Daniels time to do.
We ran into a problem. Daniel was not negotiating. Instead it was left to Cindi and I to guess, FHB to be honest with is limitations. Which led me to have time to consider my own needs. In order for this to be fun for me as well, what did I need? And Cindi... what would she need? Cindi and I schemed on and off for a couple of months. As the D date came closer we schemed more, and FHB certainly added his two cents worth with a glee I should have (but did not) expect.
Frustrated with the lack of open and honest communication from Daniel, (whom, by the way, is usually very good at being open and honest) I emailed him a blunt email with a list of things I wanted to do (and some that I didn't). I asked him to respond WITH A YES OR NO to each one. Days went by, no response. The day before I left to travel he finally answered. Rather than answer my questions he gave me long winded directives couched as responses. "Foot Worship?" I had asked. "Not the licking boots type... But kissing, washing, massaging, would certainly make sense for a slave." Was his reply. And so my mood was set.
I spent a few days at the local kink event, as slave to my own Master. When FHB returned home, he left me at Daniels for five days of fun and adventure. My mind was spinning as Cindi and I had whispered conversations trying to decide how to begin, what our limits were and rolling our eyes over Daniels oh so obviously "topping from the bottom" behaviour.
I was thoroughly enjoying watching Daniel squirm in the combination of anticipation and apprehension -I was seeing a side of him I had never seen before. Finally, I was done with the procrastination.
"I am going to have a shower, and then we will begin." I told him.
"Sure. I should be done the walk by then." He responded, flushing. I arched a brow, filing away that bit of impudence and so we began.
I excited the bathroom, dressed in my every day clothes, having rejected the idea of needing a 'costume' to get in role.
Daniel stood there, giving the impression of a child hopping from foot to foot.
"Is that how you present yourself as a slave?" I queried, completely unimpressed.
"um" Was his response.
"You can strip." I ordered. "Right here."
Daniel disrobed, folding his clothing neatly, then falling to a nice slave pose. Noting his unshaven self I scowled and lectured him. "Really, slave? This is how one presents themselves to their mistress? Not even groomed? And you! An experienced Master yourself, you think this is acceptable?" Cindi shot me a giggly smile behind Daniels back. She had already explained that this was part of his fantasy, being washed and shaved. I felt, and still do, that fantasy or not, one should certainly not be presenting themselves as a slave un-groomed. His hair was practically a bush!
Cindi and I ushered him upstairs where I schemed while she set up a lovely massage table. In hindsight I wish I had made him set it up... so many punitive moments lost!! in short order we had him on the bench and she began the long task of trimming that wild growth of hair. We took turns scolding him, and Cindi surprised me (pleasantly) with her tone and lectures. I timed the entire trimming. When it was done I explained that he would be spanked for same amount of time it took to trim, and again for the shaving-for wasting our time.
We set the timer and began to spank his buttocks and thighs, using our hands and my nasty red hairbrush, when suddenly we heard the door.
I paused, laughing softly at the look on Daniels face, as Cindi ran downstairs to hustle the intruder (one of the adult children of theirs) out. The mortification was a perfect accent, and we continued, restarting the time, much to our victim's discomfort. Cindy then shaved him and I watched. Cindi and I would talk casually, as if Daniel was not really there, then add some scolding and what not. We joked about the time it was taking, and discussed what Daniel's own reaction to having someone present themselves to him for service in such a condition. Unfortunately for Daniel it took over 15 minutes to shave him-and that was AFTER trimming.
I made him watch the timer and told him to tell me when the fifteen minutes was up. Cindi and I spanked and paddled him, scolding and mocking him the entire time. I began to notice a trend. Daniel responded to me with "yes Mistress, as you wish Mistress" and yet to Cindi he would scowl and give dirty looks, and unless promoted would not address her as he was bid, with "my Lady". I decided, there and then, that I was oh so not tolerating that, although I understood damned well that stepping outside his typical dynamic was challenging. I harassed him continuously. "Really??? Daniel, shame on you... Asking me to do this then not being prepared!!-What? Excuse me? Did I ask for you to offer excuses? Did you just sigh in exasperation?? Oh, young man, you surely should have more concern for your hide!" We made a point of not spanking the sweet spots, knowing full well that his 'leather hide' would protect him there. Instead we spanked thighs and upper buttocks, working him over until he swore.
"There will be no swearing. You may say fudgicles!!" I informed him, rather gleefully. I then harassed him about all the bragging he had done all weekend about his infamous leather butt. "Thought you were telling newbies you cannot feel pain from spanking? hmmm??? " This continued until Daniel said, "Mistress, we are at 14 minutes." Cindi and I exchanged a look, and I lit into him again. "Did I ASK you to tell me when we were at 14? (swat, smack, swat) I am VERY (SMACK SMACK) CERTAIN (SWAT) that I SAID (SMACK SMACK SMACK) 15!!( THWACK!!)"
Daniel protested and I overrode him again. "I did not ASK you to think. I TOLD you 15, I damn well wanted you to do as told!!!"
I paddled him furiously for a moment, then caressed the marks lightly. After a few moments I helped him stand up. Cindi, noting the look on his face, became quite concerned. We told him to clean things up and she and I headed downstairs. After hearing out her concerns, when Daniel came down I had a candid conversation with him, out of role. He assured us he was fine, that it was 'perfect'. I reminded him of safewords (more to reassure myself and Cindi) and we continued on
I had Daniel do some odd chores, including bathing his lady, and again continued to scold him for even the smallest mistakes in protocol. Mean mean... We made dinner and let him eat at our feet, while we talked around him and about him but rarely to him. After he cleaned up all the dinner messes, I sent him to give his lady a proper massage. I went and talked to my Sir via text, and stretched and processed some of what had happened. Truly, I enjoyed keeping him off balance and I was loving that he was not finding it so easy to be a submissive slave. I knew that his attitude was going to provide lots of fun over the next few days.

How did I get here?

It is amazing, the surprises that life can throw at us.  The good ones, of course, are much easier than the tragic ones, yet both can bring us to a cross roads where there are so many choices, every choice leading a different direction (it seems) and soooo hard at times to really know what choice will take is in what direction...

Years ago, I was perhaps a pure spanko.  All I wanted and fantasized about were spankings and the rituals that some spankings can be delivered with.  Being sent to the corner.  Waiting for a punishment.  The lecture... These things filled my head, made my soul tingle.  The spanking itself was almost secondary to the romance of it.

Then... I realized that knowing the only way to get a spanking was to be 'bad' was not beneficial to me.  I craved the spankings and the rituals so much that I was tempted to make bad choices in a way I would not have been otherwise. (To be clear, punishment has not been in my experience really, nor lectures, nor corner time.. sigh...)

Then I found the community.  Learned about so many other things and heard about endorphins, power exchange, reasons WHY spankings feel so damned good.

I got flogged.  I braved the cane.  I had to learn so much, accept so much.  I had to give up on needing everything to be perfectly labeled.  I had to learn to communicate my needs, to clearly set boundaries.

I learned that I am valued by those I play with.
I learned to weep.
I learned that i deserve to be spoiled.
I learned to have hope.
I learned that expectations are often a way to discover heartbreak.  That one day at a time is not necessarily a bad thing (aside from financial planning)

It has been a long road of discovery.  Some lessons were delicious (oh my good gracious.. subspace... oooh my)  Some were difficult. I learned that perhaps I actually like pain.  That I oh so do enjoy feeling helpless.  That the struggle to submit is amazing.  The amazing feeling when I can give up that unneeded pride and just ... submit.. wow.  I had to be OK with these new ideas.
Now.. hear I am.  So much has changed.  Yet somethings have not.  I top now, on occasion.  I have a lovely bunny girl that lets me tie her up and be mean to her, she is amazing.  I 'run' a group here in redneck land for kinksters like me.  I help them learn to do safely, I hope I am teaching them to be part of a community for each other and they teach me to not pigeon hole things or people.

But..

I am still a spanko at heart.  Being over a knee.  Being bossed.  Wondering if he is truly annoyed or mind fucking me... oh my.

This girl's heart still beats to a rhythm that sounds suspiciously like hand swatting an ass.. Just saying..

When Reality Slaps you

Have you ever been so blissfully unaware that your perception did not match your partners, that an offhand comment from him/her is a cold slap of reality?

I have been living in a D/s relationship. A 24/7 sort of deal in which I have felt completely accepted for myself. i am loving it!

For the first time in my life I have felt that someone sees me, sees my submissive sexuality, my SAM (smart assed masochism), my compulsive need to have things 'just so', my need for control clashing for me need to submit.., that someone sees me and loves me, not in spite of these things, but because of these things...

I have never been this content, or this peaceful with myself. I have never been so relaxed about my perverse needs, my kinks, my sexuality. I have never been so self accepting.

So discovering that my perception, that he understood that my submission is part of how I tick, does not match his perception, was a hard slap that left me feeling lost, isolated and even rejected.
Seems silly now, of course, cuz it's only my knowledge that has changed... But silly or not, there I was feeling like the whole foundation for all that has been lifting me had crumbled, leaving me stranded in my own insecurities, lost in my own doubts. I felt helpless, alone and hurt.

I wept. I was afraid.

I don't want to put words in his mouth... I don't remember the exact words he said, and I am painfully aware that I do not know what he was thinking... But what I heard. what i translated his words to mean was...

Everything I feel is real is just play to him. So therefore (female brain, sigh) what is real to me, and has been holding me up is a lie. I am not accepted for who I am, I am not able to meet his needs, I am not enough. That my hidden self is just that, hidden. That he has not seen me. That he has expectations of me that I cannot meet. That I have failed. From there it was a short step to feeling rejected. I put myself out there, i had thought I had been accepted, but... If he is expecting me to drop my 'role', well in my feeling sorry for myself (and pms addled, let's not forget that) brain it seemed he was rejecting me. Not just rejecting me as in turning me down, but rejecting me for who I am.
Of course, we talked about it, after I got over myself a little. We established that my translation is not exactly accurate (lmfao). We talked a bit about the differences in our perceptions. He asked questions, I struggled to answer. He is an amazing man, really.

Now, to move forward i have to do what I wanted for myself. I have to SEE him and accept him for who he is, not a hard thing at all. But I also have to deal with my own doubts, a very hard thing indeed. I have to be ok with our differences in priorities and needs. I have to learn to be more... well.. less I guess... less submissive. Doable, right?

Nothing has changed, really, yet everything has. And it is impossible to know if that is good...
or not.



Update:
We are working on this together.  I think this is amazing, really, that we can face these bumps together, when I just share my thoughts.  Even when my words carry pain, he listens patiently.  Even when we are both struggling with so many other things, he is there, listening. 

He and I define terms differently.. soon we will be working on building our own definitions, together.  

Part 2 Shadowlane Spanking Party

We arrived at the ballroom and recieved our name badges. Happily we ran into a gentleman we had been talking to on Fetlife, which helped us to not feel so stranded. The room was packed!

We wandered the vendors, spending way more than I had planned. There were so many exciting items!  What we did end up with was a very evil ebony paddle, a deceptive leather paddle that is yummy on one side and evil on the other, a twilting style cane, both of Cassandra Parks books (It's supposed to hurt), an OTK T shirt, a video and a book from Shadow lane.  All books were signed!! 

I have to say, after watching every shadow lane video I can get my hands on and reading every paperbook by Eve Howard that I have discovered, I nearly died to be standing across the table from Eve herself.  What a lovely Lady! I was all blushing with feelings of awe, turned around and nearly died on the spot!!

Some of my very favorite spankers and brats were just standing there!!  I halted, floored, then got a grip on myself and headed to The Brit's table, flustered all to heck.
There I spoke with the ladies and got myself enrolled into the academy, an event planned for the next day. I was overtired, giggly, thrilled and terrified by the entire bit... And poor Sir!! There he was, still in his traveling clothes, as his darn bag still had not shown up...
Sir and I did hang out and enjoy the dinner, taking note of suite parties and whatnot, until we finally snuck out for a breather.  We are both quite shy and felt way out of our element.

Once in our room we discovered that his bag had been found!!  If we had just waited a few minutes before leaving for the dinner, Sir could have dressed up some...
Sir decided this was my fault (not fair!! I oh so did NOT set the time for dinner!! Can I help it that I like to arrive in a timely fashion???) and we had a long playtime in which he used all of our new toys and most of the toys we arrived with... It isn't often that I kick my feet, but I sure did for that darn leather paddle!! I love the other side though... It is my new favorite!

After a shower and a cuddle we dressed for spanking Olympics (LATE!!!) and headed to the appropriate suite.  The Olympics were fabulous!  I judged one event and we watched a few before Sir dragged me out of there.  I believe he could see that I was working up courage to enter us into an event, mwahahahaha.

We changed into our army outfits and headed to the sixties/nam party.  Many people there spoke to us with warmth, which was lovely.  To all of you who introduced yourselves, thank you! I wish I had been brave enough to make play dates with you!  We watched events, with me getting giddier by the minute... I am ever the voyeur, really!!
We returned to our room, exhausted.  Three hours sleep and over stimulated, I found myself bratting my way into yet another spanking, followed by unmentionable fun, shower and falling asleep wrapped safely in Sir's arms.

DAY TWO
We scooped some time at the pool, grabbed breakfast and then Sir kindly dressed me for the academy.  He laced me into my corset, snapped my stockings in and helped me into my long tight skirt and blouse.  Sir felt the need to round off this helping with a lovely blissful sighing spanking, pictures and kisses, then walked me to the academy...
OH MY GOOD GRIEF!!! What a wicked fun day.  Mrs. Darling and her co-star (oops I  mean co-spanker) were amazing role players.  Some of the girls were incredible at playing naughty schoolgirls, I was quite jealous.
I did end up over Mrs. Darlings knee once, and sent to the superintendent once, but for the most part I was too busy giggling at the girls to brat it up (and shy... so shy).
Other ladies have told this tale better than I can, check them out in the list of blogs at shadow lane.

Sir came and got me about three o'clock, so I missed the end of class.  We went and did some shopping, then I had more spankings, (at which he was shocked that I had no marks at all, and proceeded to try and fix this)  I love the way Sir spanks... But I certainly had some whimpers this time.. i may not mark much, but some areas were getting quite sensitive!!
We headed to the dinner, but left shortly after as Sir needed ZZZ time.
I waited till he was asleep and pouting I dressed up and snuck out to the suite parties. 
Bad.. I know... BUT

Although I wandered the parties, talked to many and had one lovely lady give me the tiniest of spankings, I did stay out of trouble.  I did not drink, i did not play with anyone (not that anyone asked me :), which made it easy to not get into trouble, no?)  I returned to the suite, pj'ed up and crawled into bed... sad that there was only one night left.

The next day we went to spanking court, where someone tattled about my solo adventure.  After court was yet another of Sir's rather hard spankings... Which I pretended to be whiny about, not that I fool him any.  We headed to the strip, shopped and went to a show. 

FINAL THOUGHTS
If I was more gregarious I would have had a wicked good time.  So many people spoke to me that I would have loved to play with, but I had not idea how to convey that, or if it was acceptable to even approach people.. All that talk on fet about creepers asking to play had me hesitant as hell.. We still had a great time!!! But most of my fun came from Sir. Which seems silly if you go all the way to Vegas, lol. But.. We met some amazing people!

Next time We will do things differently.  More networking, more mingling, less drinking, no gambling and twitter from day one.

Hugs and laughter