24.7

I make Amy ask for permission when she wants to use the bathroom.  She used to glare at me, and mutter and scowl, but she did it.  Now it’s ingrained, pretty much a reflex.

So now I’ve started making her raise her hand, when she wants permission to go to the bathroom.  No hand raised, she doesn’t get acknowledged.

I like it.  It’s like she’s back in grade school.

We are in New Orleans for a few days, our first time back for more than two years (the early trip is documented in our blog archives).  It’s different this time. We are here with another man.

Our teenage son.

Bwahahahahaha.   By the way, I didn’t mean to go all “O. Henry” on you in my last post.  I originally planned NOT to say that it was my sister we had dinner with.  But I realized that a) it’s just too cool not to mention, and b) the odds of her ever reading this are infinitely small.  I will talk more about the Daddy/little girl stuff in another post.

Back to New Orleans.  Last time we were here, we were a VERY new couple.  We bought a schoolgirl skirt and a corset and nipple clamps on Bourbon Street.  Happily we have used the first two items far more than the third.

This time we are an old married couple with a teenager.  Nonetheless, we are  figuring out ways to make it wonderful.  There are, of course, the vanilla things - beignet and chicory coffee at Cafe du Monde, the Algiers Ferry, Rock N Bowl, Acme Oyster House, Brigtsen’s, Bourbon Street (LORD, I am getting so much grief from both my boys about calling it juvenile).

There are also the not-so-vanilla things.  Last night Richard and I went out alone to hear some live music and dance a little.  At one point he was standing over my chair, rubbing my neck.  His hands started wandering enough that I began to get nervous.  Which he picked up on.  Which of course made him bolder.  Bad man.  I was trying not to be obvious, because it wasn’t that dark.  When I started to pull away he wrapped my hair around his fist and pulled my head back.  My neck was straining from the pressure and I looked up at him pleadingly.  He just smiled and kept hold of my hair while trailing his fingers over me.  Luckily everyone was dancing and watching the stage.  I hope so, anyway.

This morning he was petting me awake - my head hurt a bit from drinking (only two drinks all night!  no fair!) and I had trouble waking up - and he started playing with my breasts.  His hands became more and more insistent until I was writhing, needing to cum.  He took my hand and forced it onto my pussy and whispered “Masturbate.  Now.”  But after just a minute he said “I changed my mind.  You aren’t going to cum.   I’m going to.” And then he fucked me.  Oh God it felt so good and he came and I could tell it was really good for him and then he pulled out and said “maybe later” and got up to make coffee.

So I’ve been desperately wanting to cum all day, which he just loves.  Now he’s gone off to take street photos with our son and I am here alone, all squirmy.  I’m wondering how much trouble I would get into if I masturbated, and if it’s worth it.

I woke up early, and Amy snuggled in close under the duvet; the morning sharp and cold.  She slipped both hands around my cock, murmured something, and drifted back to sleep.

We lay like this for a half hour, maybe an hour.  I enjoyed the feeling of my erection between her cool palms, and did not sleep.

I planned to cum in her.  No hurry, plenty of time.

I flipped her off me onto her side, facing away from me.  I placed one hand between her shoulder blades, and pushed, and with the other reached between her thighs to seize her pussy, and pulled her hips toward me.  A moment’s effort had her bent double, vulnerable.  I opened her ass checks, and reached in to divide her pussy lips, just enough to wedge my cock’s head at her opening.

Then I started to thrust.

I won’t call it pain, but I felt discomfort.  The guys will know what I’m talking about, that delicious twinge as  you batter at her unprepared cunt, your cock buckling ever so slightly in the middle with each thrust, a quick radiation of pain.  It passes as you keep thrusting between her still awakening labia, and you force your way into her pussy with brute strength.

She isn’t very moist, not yet.  Barely even protesting, as she still struggles with sleep.  But a steady rhythmn will loosen her, and moisten her thoroughly.

I usualy love playing with her body, making her squirm, fucking her.

But I’m not interested in fucking Amy.  Not this time.

I just want to cum.

I hold her hips and fuck her, thrusting.  I know her tits are bouncing with each thrust, and I ignore them briefly, a luxurious decadence to neglect such fine tits.

I ignore them because Amy isn’t going to cum.  I don’t want her too.  If I don’t play with her nipples, she doesn’t cum.

For a moment, I do amuse myself by grabbing one breast, feeling the delicious softness in my hand, with the ever present hardness of her nipple against my palm.  I become distracted by the thought of leaving her frustrated, and slip my hand down to tease her clit, but I abandon that idea after a few thrusts.

Truly, this was a distraction.  I didn’t give a fuck if she was frustrated or not.  I wanted to cum in her.

I fucked her swiftly, forcing her shoulders away from me.  At one point I covered her mouth, or so Amy told me after.

I ignored her perfect tits, shivering neglected as I held her hips again, driving deep.

A perfect sensation, a sharp cascade at the very point of me,  and I shuddered cum into her.

Hi guys! Bet you didn’t expect to see another post from me here. This should teach you to let me remain part of your blog! [insert delighted smirk here]

Readers, you might remember Amy mentioning that when she started exploring BDSM, I had the wonderful pleasure of guiding her a little bit, as I’ve been in the lifestyle for nearly a decade. I’ve noticed that she praises my wisdom far too much. Here’s a peek at the dynamic reversed!

Let’s go back a year in time. I was half a year shy of the end of my 6 year marriage to my former Master. I was confused and unsure of which way to go. I was done with my post-divorce/release phase of “done with D/s”, and the phase of claiming to be a new-born lesbian, and was in the process of moving 3000 miles to give a new relationship a try. I was very fascinated and hopeful about this guy, and also a little hesitant because some of the things he wanted were things that I was strongly considering moving away from, but I wanted to give it a fair try. I was also very excited about living 6 hours away from Amy, instead of on the other side of the continent!

I remember Amy and Richard visiting with us at the very beginning. Even as we were quite new in the relationship, we already had the dynamic down and were quite hard core both S&M wise and protocol wise, and both bruises and demeanor were firmly in place upon their arrival. I remember Amy writing a very sweet entry about the visit, and I remember her telling me that she felt like a novice, compared to what she saw there.

And I remember that I saw it very differently. If anyone felt like a novice, it was me. I might have the kneels, the posture, the demeanor, the backing away respectfully, and so forth, down… but my heart wasn’t quite with it. I was still trying to find my place, my comfort zone, my sense of belonging. Everything I did, I did with a deep seated fear of not doing it right, and was obsessing over the fact that I could never quite seem to get it down intuitively and smoothly enough. I was always just a little late realizing that his glass was nearing empty, always a little too clumsy as I was backing away, and I couldn’t relax to save my life.

And I saw Amy and Richard cuddled up on the couch. They weren’t that old in their relationship either, I think they had just passed their first six months of living together. But I saw Amy predict Richard’s needs before he even knew he needed anything. Not because she was obsessively watching his glass with a deep fear of failing to notice when it was nearing empty, like I was with my dom, but because she was so in tune with him that she just knew. I saw her spontaneously feed him from her fingers, and I saw him feed her. They were giggling, their love apparent in everything they did. I was thinking that Amy was so much more a natural slave than I was, because she acted so naturally out of love and celebration, rather than in that obsessive worryful way that I was doing it. (Later I realized that she maybe didn’t really do everything “right”, but she did it “right enough”, and seen through the perspective of his loving eyes, it WAS right. Not because she is perfect (even though she is!!!), but because he loves her, and he recognizes the pure devotion she feels for him and his wellbeing - as he feels for her as well.)

I remember thinking, I hope I will have what they have one day. Because that’s what it’s all about.

It didn’t happen with that dom. I never quite managed to get past focusing on all the things I was doing wrong, obsessing about not measuring up, trying so hard to avoid disappointing him, feeling like I was constantly being measured in a “not quite gonna make it” kind of way. In hindsight I realize that I lacked the awareness to pinpoint this, and in the heat of my desperation to try not to fuck up, I definitely was not aware of how counter-productive the negative focus was as opposed to the positive focus I have today.

It’s funny how you can do something, and do it really well, impressively well - and still not actually “getting it”. I started in a medium protocol relationship with gorean undertones, and moved to more protocol, even though I had already started wondering if that was something that really worked for me. It was all I really knew, and I had a hard time understanding how I could still feel like a slave without having a myriad of rituals to remind me. And this was part of the reason why I was feeling lost and confused.

I needed to see a different way, and see it work, and see it give the results that I really wanted.

And that is what I saw, when I moved down to stay with Richard and Amy for a while. Don’t get me started on the huge amount of love and spoiling I got there, because that’s not what this entry is about, but it sure helped heal me, extremely quickly at that too. What this entry is about, however, is their dynamic and how it inspired and influenced me and got me onto the right track. How they taught me in the best way - by example.

It started at that visit I mentioned up there, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. During my too few months with them, I started seeing D/s in a different light, a light that actually fit me much better than my “previous lives”. Their dynamic is just so.. ALIVE.. free flowing, filled with a constant, active energy. They really don’t have much protocol as far as I’ve noticed, and the reason why I am mentioning this protocol stuff so much is for two reasons: one because I needed that epiphany in order to be open for the right type of relationship for me, and second because what triggered this post in the first place, was an entry that Amy wrote several months back, about them not having a “normal” D/s relationship, not “scening”, and so forth. And I was so triggered and upset by it, because I see what Richard and Amy have as being FAR more evolved than that, and I just wanted to shake her and tell her “why on earth would you want to go BACKWARDS???”.

Watching the playfulness between Richard and Amy, seeing how they managed to be goofy and head over heels in love, vulnerable with each other, shamelessly adoring each other, and just really living life with so much joy and passion, and seeing how this all just fueled the D/s aspect of their relationship instead of somehow making it less “real”, that was the real eye opener for me. Realizing that it was possible to have a really deep, fulfilling, complete, passionate and meaningful D/s relationship without the rigidness of protocol and rituals, that the lack of rituals and protocol didn’t mean loss of power exchange, or anything less intense.

And it was a big relief, to realize that it was OK to do this without all the “demonstrating acts” that I had been trained to perform. That not only does submission remain and blossom in the submissive, but that the dominant also “gets it”, that he can feel the submission through other ways and still feel satisfied. Wow. To be able to serve so much more purely from the heart, instead of the brain! I realize that to some people rituals and protocol works GREAT - but for a scatterbrain like me, I end up focusing so much on attempting to not forget details that I lose the greater picture. Of course it also helps to have a dominant who loves and adores you so much that it’s hard to do anything wrong, because they just see your heart and devotion and think you’re cute when you’re being silly!

To me, what has always been the most important thing to a D/s relationship, is love. Deep, passionate, crazy love. I’m not truly a slave to someone, until I love them with heart and soul. I also need to be loved back. And I realize that my demands are getting quite high here… I want kink, I want playfulness, AND I want love! AND a family. AND… well, more! And it’s tempting to give up and think that one has to settle… “well, three out of five will probably do…” But luckily Richard and Amy helped me in that regard too, again through example. They really inspired me to not lower my expectations, and to keep believing that it’s not only possible, but necessary - and that I should have it. Nothing less would do. (I’m sure you can all imagine them scrutinizing the suitors, and agreeing with each other that NOBODY was good enough for their Megan! LOL)

And then, one day this very special man showed up on my door. I have never in my 33 year life fallen instantly head over heels for anyone, nor believed in that “first sight” kind of thing, but it happened that day. From the moment I laid eyes on him, I knew that he was the one I wanted. I suspected it before I met him, from what I had encountered of him through emails and phone calls, but the moment my soul connected with his, I just knew. (And if I’d read this paragraph a year ago, I’d have laughed my ass off and shook my head with amusement and lack of belief in that such things are real.)

That was the end of March, over 7 months ago. I’m still shamelessly, recklessly happy and in love. I’ve tried over a dozen times to write this paragraph, but I just can’t do this justice. I am just amazed at how it’s possible to be this happy. I don’t even know how to describe us. It really is like a dance, a beautiful, exciting dance. And it’s so smooth, so natural, so real, so unique, so “us”. He’s a poly sadistic dominant, and I’m a playful masochistic submissive - but that’s just the basis that we’re building our dynamic on. We’re taking some parts to the extreme, dropping other parts, and introducing whatever turns us on. And at the same time just digging the hell out of each other and having each others’ back.

And I’m just so grateful to Richard and Amy for pushing me lightyears ahead in gaining the consciousness I needed in order to allow this relationship to fall into its own place, and have the peace and openness to let it grow into something that is so unique and purely “us” instead of thinking that we “have” to do one thing or another. By focusing on the passion (and amazing, killer sex!!), and letting it grow into love, the D/s part just naturally flowed into place, and I find myself in such a scary, overwhelming OWNED kind of state that I’m lost for words. And the kick ass part of that is that I’m there, while still being absolutely, purely “me”, with scattered brains, a really goofy sense of humour, moments of evilness, and all those things that I have to some extent or another tried to tone down in other relationships, because I was so worried about not being pretty enough in my service. I’ve even gone back to college, with his amazing support and understanding, and I’m able to enjoy my studies without feeling that I am somehow not serving him well enough, by having such time consuming third party interests.

Thank you guys, for being such a loving and inspiring part of my life. I really, truly love you guys.

Richard is lying next to me, sleeping. Usually he works on his laptop while I nap (I need more sleep than him), so it is a rare treat to be able to watch him while he’s sleeping. He is the handsomest man in the world. I really do need to take some pictures of him for the blog, so that you can all agree with me.

Today we went to Costco to get some things for an upcoming weeklong camping trip and to pick up prescriptions - migraine meds for me and an Epi-pen for Richard, who has an amazingly serious allergy to shrimp. We had a huuuge cart that was hard to move around, and I had picked up about five pounds of wild sockeye salmon to freeze for the winter. I was feeling nervous about getting the salmon to the freezer, so I asked Richard if he would pick up the prescriptions while I tried to find the big coolers, which had moved since the last time we were there.

To make a long story short, I ran all around the store with various employees until finally a manager checked the computer and found that all the Costcos in our area were out of them. Argh. I went to the Pharmacy line and Richard was standing next to it. He looked annoyed.

“Where were you?”

“I’m sorry, they’re out of the coolers and it took a while. Did you get the prescriptions?”

“No, I didn’t. I don’t know what you’re picking up.”

“Daddy, all you need to do is give them our name. They’ll find them.”

We got into line and he was quiet. I asked him what was wrong and he told me he didn’t appreciate my tone. It was rude. I knew immediately that he was right. Richard cuts me a lot of slack - he lets me tease him and he is very patient when I’m feeling anxious or worried. A lot of Domly-types would not tolerate what he does. But he does expect me to be respectful, and I wasn’t.

This is important for me too. Like a lot of women, I am very organized and efficient. I have to be, to do my work well and keep my family safe, healthy and happy. In my past marriage, I took responsibility for almost everything. The upside of that was that everything was done how I liked it. The downside was that I felt like my husband’s mommy instead of his wife. And not in a sexy way. And I would get bitchy. Ooooh, I could be bitchy.

I don’t watch to be bitchy. I don’t like myself when I’m bitchy. It hurts me as much as it hurts my partner, probably more. I’m sure that a lot of you reading are thinking “My goodness, that was nothing. You should see how bitchy I can be.” I know that this was minor. Trust me, I can be way bitchier than that (although I haven’t been to Richard.) To me, though, it feels like a slippery slope. This bitchy today, and what happens tomorrow?

I believe (and I may be wrong, I’ll ask Richard when he wakes up and maybe he will reply to this) that, if I keep being disrespectful in this way, it will hurt our relationship badly. I believe that Richard would NOT respond by turning me over his knee more often, or by becoming stricter. That would probably help, but I don’t think that is what he’d do. I think he would withdraw.

In our relationship, I have given all power over to Richard. If I start taking that power back, by challenging him or being disrespectful, then I am betraying him. I’m betraying him in the same way that, if we agreed to be monogamous, having sex with another man would betray him. How could he trust me if I did that?

Now, if I said “Richard, I don’t want to have a D/s (or TPE or whatever) relationship anymore” then we could talk about it and he could decide whether or not he wanted to stay in the relationship, based on my wish to change the ground rules. (Again, just like many people have successfully agreed to move from monogamy to polygamy or polyamory.)

But the fact is that I DON’T want to change the ground rules. I DO want Richard to have total power. To do that requires trust on both our parts. This small episode (which I have warbled on and on about) showed me that I am wrestling with trust right now. (Much like meg at Obedient Persephone, whose blog I LOVE and highly recommend; see blogroll at right.)

Why am I wrestling with trust right now? It’s related to giving control of finances over to Richard (see a couple of blogposts down - Another level of submission). I don’t think he’s going to f**k up and get the utilities shut down or anything. And if he did, so what? They can be turned back on. I guess I’m scared that he’s not going to do them as well as I do them. Which is ridiculous, when I look at that statement in black and white, because I am no Suze Orman, yanno?

Richard, god bless him, when I was apologizing in the car, said “Well, why should you trust me? You don’t know yet if I can do it, do you? I have to earn your trust on this.”

I love how down to earth he is. Truly, he’s right. People talk in very noble and spiritual terms about just letting go and trusting and the gift of submission and all, but it’s HARD. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and I still have kids to get through college, and southern California is not a place where you can f**k up financially and recover easily.

Now I’m handing all that over to Richard, who would have been perfectly happy to have me do all the financials forever. He’s only taking it over to make life easier for me. It’s a gift, pure and simple.

So. I need to trust Richard to deal with the finances and other “family administration” chores. But developing that trust will take some time. Until then, I need to stay respectful and try to keep my nose out of things while he figures them out. Not real sexy, not what I fantasized about in my pre-BDSM days. More “Surrendered Wife” than SexySlutSlave. The obvious next step in my submission to Richard.

I’ll keep you posted.

A lot of things happen to me on our stairwell. Richard has grabbed me and fucked me there a few times, and photographed me (including I think the first pic of me posted on this blog, right before a spanking, and one in my “wiggle dress”). A couple of days ago we were walking down it, having a discussion about my collar, and I got in trouble right there on the stairs (Richard is planning to write about this, so I won’t say anything else about it.)

Anyway. I was walking down the stairs yesterday morning, to make coffee and get the newspaper for Richard. The dogs were tumbling around me, and I thought about how I have trained them. And I realized that Richard has trained me in exactly the same way.

The dog I had before these dogs was hell on wheels. It wasn’t Trixie’s fault; she was a breed that is specialized for specific tasks and is very high energy. I “clicker trained” her and trained her to both voice command and hand signals. Which required a lot of reading and a lot of practice and a lot of frustration. At the end, I had a dog who behaved well on a lead when there were no other stimuli around. Otherwise all bets were off. I never felt connected to her. I would look in her eyes and there was crazy there. She did exactly what she was told to do when she was told to do it, but that was it.

When I got the first of the dogs we have now, I was too busy to train her right away (except to a lead, “come” and “sit”, of course). I’m so glad now that I didn’t. Five years later, she responds immediately to any command I give, on leash or off, other stimuli or no. (This isn’t completely true; if Richard has his camera out she will not leave his side because she loves the reflection from the lens.)

The other dogs, who I have not had for as long, are exactly the same. I don’t know if they learned from her or if it’s because we are almost inseparable. The latter is what I want to talk about in re Richard’s training of me.

Richard isn’t into protocols and training regimes and lots of rules. Sometimes I think it would be fun to have more of that kind of dynamic (it’s sexy!) but mostly I’m glad. We’re both busy people and clearly don’t need all that for me to feel submissive to him, and him to feel ownership of me. However, we have both noticed that I obey him instinctively and often even anticipate his needs and wishes. And my obedience and anticipation are getting stronger and more pronounced with time.

What I realized on the stairs (I finally get to this - jeez) is that: the dogs obey me immediately and completely at a level that I never expected, especially without explicit training. They know me and what I want and need because they are with me constantly and pay close attention to me at all times. I know them for the same reasons. And I let them know what I want while at the same time trusting them not to need the uber-control of clickers and hand signals and all that. I respect their dog nature, if you will.

Similarly, I am able to obey and serve Richard at a level that (he tells me) he never experienced before, even though he has been involved with someone who saw herself as a high protocol slave (I realized as I wrote this that you could compare her quite aptly with Trixie). I think that’s because we are always together and I am always paying close attention to him (as he does me). He doesn’t choose to micro-manage me. He tells me what he wants, and then trusts me to get it right (Richard says that I should add “and he gets cranky when I don’t” lol).  He respects my slave nature (grin).

This post was a lot trickier to write than I expected! We have a big day ahead of us, so I’ll stop now. I’m keen to see what others’ experiences have been with this. How do you trade off explicit training/ control with simply knowing your Master/Owner/Daddy or partner?

xoAmy

I always tell Amy that we aren’t kinky, we’re just Ricky and Lucy Ricardo.  Mainstream, no different than everybody else.  A typical, if retro married couple with a 50s-style society-approved male dominant-female submissive relationship.

She begs to differ.

Well, as long as she’s begging, it’s all good.

So how do we handle D/s and family life?  What do we do about D/s and the kids?

My family with Amy is my second time with children.  A lot of these issues I’ve already gone over with my original children.

I used to keep secrets.  I had a skill at hiding who I really was, at keeping my own needs subordinate to what my partner needed and this turned out to be damaging. Extremely so, I was co-dependent in an increasingly dysfunctional relationship, that eventually came apart.

It bothered me that I hadn’t been able to provide my children with a stable home life like the one I’d had growing up.  Instead, now they had to deal with parental conflict, extended travel, time split between two homes in opposition, etc.  One bit of wisdom really stayed with me from that time; the idea that all we owe our children is the truth about who we are.

I like that idea - not that it is ALL we owe our children, but that children can make better judgements about life if they aren’t confused by their own parents lies to them.

So I don’t lie to my kids.

They ask a question, it gets answered.

Simple.

Parenting is easy.  Painful, sure, but easy.  As long as you don’t mind putting everything out there, and let them think of you what they will.

I don’t care what my kids think of me.  It’s irrelevant.  They can see me as a nice guy, or as a total bastard, it’s all good.  I am who I am, and I’m not invested in whether they see me as a good parent, bad parent, etc.

Same thing goes for blog readers, too :)  I like to express myself so my concept is clear, but I’m pretty indifferent to what any reader’s judgments are. Makes it way easier to write a blog like this.  (And then again, claiming to be indifferent could be an elaborate ruse to fake sincerity.  You make the call)

I don’t think there was ever a time when my original children weren’t aware of alternative relationships.  With a large extended family, we had everything from right wing religious couples to a gay uncle.  My ex-wife and I weren’t judgmental about any of those life directions, and were very straightforward in answering questions as they arose.  The whole “birds and the bees” thing was always looked at as a biological issue infused with emotion, or lust at least.

Dinnertime with my kids would include topics from politics to abortion to alternative sexuality.  No topic of discussion was taboo, from any age, and any question would get explained, and I’d give my opinions of issues, and they were welcome to have and express their own.  Which they did.  Especially my daughter.

I didn’t do anything sexual in front of my children.  Not in my vanilla marriage, and not in any more D/s relationship that followed.

And now with Amy, it’s very much the same.  I’m an aggressive guy.  I don’t dial that back.  I like to hunt and pursue.

And catch.

With the kids around, I do that with Amy by flirting with her.  We’re a playful couple, lots of joking and teasing.

Your children always figure out who you are eventually.  So there’s no point in trying to fake anything; that just lets them know you are dishonest and uncomfortable with who you are.

Nor do you behave inappropriately in front of them.  You don’t involve them in your sex life or particular fetish.  Humiliation play etc. is fine, but not appropriate in front of kids.  Nor is it appropriate in public - go to clubs for those things, where people are expecting stuff of that nature.  I don’t like to do anything too far out of the norm in front of anyone who hasn’t consented to being a part of it.  But that’s another whole issue.

Our kids know that I behave aggressively towards Amy.  I’ll pull her close, kiss her, flirt with her, openly adore her.  She asks my opinion on things, and gives her own.  I don’t issue orders and expect her to obey, etc in front of them.  I treat her with the deference and politeness she deserves, as any human deserves.  Humiliation kink, since it is arousing, is something only done in private.  (And it’s not THAT arousing, so it’s not done that often. Or maybe too often, since it’s not a big fan favorite with Amy.  Go figure.)

We are D/s 24/7 not because we are playing at it, because it’s who we are.   It feels right.  Actually, it doesn’t really feel like anything at all.

It’s just normal.

One of our readers (justdave) asked how we handled our relationship with kids around, particularly since we are a blended family. It was great timing, because there was a thread about this topic over at Fetlife that got a bit ugly (in part thanks to me, I’m afraid). I think the problem was that people who aren’t 24/7 have trouble with the distinction between kinky sexual play and relationship dynamics (eg a bedroom submissive said “most relationships with unequal power are abusive” WTF???). This was exacerbated by the fact that the issue is not a black and white one, as many would like it to be. Anyway, I’ll tell you what we do and why, and I’m curious to hear what others do and what they think about all this.

What we don’t do
We don’t do or say anything sexual around the kids. Well, except they are in their early teen years, so they make off-color jokes a bit and we don’t stomp on that. So, just like most vanilla couples, we save the groping and deep kisses for when we are alone. We also save the spankings and bondage and dirty talking for when we are alone. Most but not all people would agree with this.

I personally don’t make this choice because of the children’s age, I make it because they would not be consensual participants if we were sexual in front of them. I make the same choice about exposing other people (family, friends, strangers on the street) to my sexual behavior. Note that I am not saying “my kink”, because I feel this about any kind of sexual behavior, not just kinky behavior.

This last point is a gray area, because you could also make the argument that people (adults anyway) SHOULD be exposed to more kinky sexual behavior, so that they realize it is…common (was gonna say normal, but maybe not :)). Certainly I would fight very hard to support gay couples’ right to hold hands, be affectionate and kiss in public (maybe not so much the genital groping but whatever). So for those of you who WANT to be led around by a leash in public, I say go for it! I’m a little less thrilled by the what seems to be common Domly desire to require a submissive to leave her panties for an unsuspecting waitress, but again, whatever.

In the Fetlife thread I referred to earlier, a few people said they’d be really irritated if someone was behaving kinkily in public in front of their children, because why should they have to explain that to their kids? I don’t have much sympathy for that point of view. My kids learned about gays very early in their life, because they have both lesbians and gay men as relatives. It was an easy, no-brainer conversation: “Some women like men, some women like women. Aunt Beatrice likes women.” My kids were kind of like “OK. Can we go play now?”

Honestly, I would welcome the opportunity that some public BDSM behavior would offer for a conversation with my kids. Sadly that is unlikely to occur where we live (I so fantasize about moving to San Francisco). However, I’ve had a couple of good, introductory conversations with my eldest child who is a BIG fan of Twilight. Any of you read Twilight? OMG, Edward (the vampire) is a TOTAL Dom, and Bella is waaaaaaay submissive. My girl got very sad after reading the first book because she said she would never meet a guy like Edward. We talked about what she found appealing in him. Dangerous but nurturing. Protective but domineering. Aggressive but gentle. Completely focused on Bella. I finally said “Dude. Check out your stepdad. Is he not Edward?” And it was like a light came on. She got it.

Since then, she has started conversations with me about sexuality (we had the “where do babies come from” a very long time ago). For one thing, she wanted to know if she was a lesbian, since she thought women’s bodies were really beautiful. I said a) no, and b) it would be okay if you are, as long as you c) still have grandbabies for me (she knows the last is a joke). She also wanted to talk about Edward and Bella’s relationship more, and we ended up talking about D/s and power exchange and switching and role playing. I didn’t speak specifically about Richard’s and my relationship, but I did tell her that I was submissive. She was so open and interested that it kind of blew me away. Which I said. It was a really wonderful talk.

What we do
I call Richard “Daddy” and he calls me “baby girl” in front of the kids. The first couple of times it slipped out, I got embarrassed and a bit worried, but they didn’t even notice. When I worry about it, I remind myself that it is very much a white, middle-class “issue”. African American and Hispanic women often call their man “Daddy”. My kids have friends of many ethnicities and cultures, and I just don’t think they notice stuff like that. In fact, my grandmother called my grandfather Daddy (he called her “Momma”, not “baby girl” however).

I am always respectful and deferential to Richard in front of the kids. And he is to me as well. He insists on opening my car door, he won’t allow me to carry packages, he won’t eat until I sit down at the table. My little one now races Richard to get to my car door! Isn’t that sweet? I love it that my children are seeing their mother treated with respect and love.

The main way we behave differently from a vanilla couple is that he will occasionally command me in a teasing way and…I always respond by doing what he says. In any other relationship I would have argued or said “fuck off” if someone had done that. The kids definitely notice this and I’m not sure what I think about that. One nice thing is that they will tease me now too. If I kind of “talk back” one of them will say “Oooooh you’re gonna get it now Momma!” and laugh and offer to help Richard catch me if I run away. So I guess they see it as flirting; certainly it is always very light-hearted and loving.

The part of this that I guess I am still wrestling with is that I am NOT a “taken in hand” wife. I don’t believe that God wanted men to be Dominant and women to be submissive. In many ways our relationship looks like a traditional one, and I feel extremely comfortable in it, but I don’t see it as inherently more desirable or natural than (for example) a FemDom/malesub relationship. I guess I’d rather my kids know that I’m kinky than to think I’m June Cleaver. If that makes any sense at all.

*I posted this and kept ruminating about that last line. “I guess I’d rather my kids know that I’m kinky than to think I’m June Cleaver.” It resonated with me so strongly. I realized, and want to clarify here, that what I want my kids to get from our relationship is that alternative sexuality/relationships are fine, NOT that women should obey their husbands. Thinking about that, I guess I am going to have to have some kind of a sit-down with them at some point. I will continue to ponder this. Another example of why writing a blog is such a positive experience.

Well, I’ve gone on and on and on, and I have grilled pizzas to make for dinner tonight (Hawaiian for the kids; something less fruity for us). I’m sure I’ve forgotten a million things I wanted to say, but maybe you will say them, or I will make another post or maybe they’re just not that important.xoAmy

Amy had a request for me yesterday; she wanted to be spanked.

There are two things Amy doesn’t do.  Make requests, and long for spankings.

So when she mixed them both together yesterday, it gave me pause for thought. As it turns out, I probably got it wrong.

I know she has made a post about it, but I want to write this before I read what she has to say about the whole thing.

My first thought was, that I hadn’t been giving her enough attention.  She was happy to have all the attention I could give her yesterday, and I wondered if I had been remiss.  And I know that she likes to be reminded of her submission as well, and I thought that I had not been letting her feel that enough lately.

Mind you, I had none of these thoughts until she asked; only then did I begin to reflect on what she was asking.

I considered that she was likely feeling a need for attention, and a need to submit, and a need to feel herself physically doing something she didn’t want to.  The idea that she might be volunteering to submit to something she didn’t like because she thought I might want to do it, but wasn’t pursuing that course of action didn’t occur to me, although it probably should have.  Just way too complicated for my brain.

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately, weighty stuff like the nature of art, the meaning of life, where does one find meaning in a post modern world; the usual sort of stuff that tends to lead a person into abstract thought, and a bit out of the present.  It occurred to me I had been doing too much of that.

I decided then that an extended flogging might work better to meet her needs than a simple spanking.  It lasts longer, and doesn’t have any punishment overtones for us.  I didn’t think she needed to feel punished.  Amy usually doesn’t feel the need to be punished, and occasionally points out to me what a good girl she is, and how she specifically doesn’t need whatever punishment I am proposing for her at the time.

In the past flogging has generally bored me.  But I’ve never really done it in a relationship even similar to what Amy and I have, so I thought this might be fun.  I downloaded some music from iTunes that she wouldn’t know, blindfolded her, and began.

It felt awkward in a way, more like a “scene” rather then something that flowed organically out of our natural interactions; but still fun.   I mixed up rhythms, landing zones, patterns, but nothing shocking or out of the ordinary, or not shocking at least if you accept the idea of a flogging as being a fairly mainstream activity.

I did blindfold her, because it makes her feel more dependent, and I kept touch with her through a hand on her leg or ankle.

I enjoyed the rhythm myself, the exploration of how she reacted to my touch, and the touch of the flogger. I wanted to be sure she felt submissive, and the focus of my attention.

I kept it short, the whole thing lasted around an hour or so, and I felt quite mentally and emotionally satisfied by it when we finished - it’s not an avenue of expression I usually seek, but I’m thinking it’s a good one for exploring further.  Never hurts to have extra ways to explore your relationship.

Well, it doesn’t hurt me, anyways.

The flogging also helped kick off a series of discussions between Amy and I, which have been very, very helpful to me.  More on those in posts to come!

Yesterday I spent a lot of time on Fetlife and reading blogs. Which I really shouldn’t have been doing, because there are lots of things that need to be done around the house and I also have a big project due on Thursday. Nonetheless, there I was, and it made me a bit squirmy, reading about others’ relationships and play, etc. Before I had a chance to think too much about it, I sat down on the couch next to Richard and said “Daddy, would you please spank me?”

He looked up from some pictures he was working on and said “Really? You really want me to spank you?” I said I did, we talked about it for a minute (I think he was trying to figure out what it was I wanted exactly) and then he suggested that he flog me instead.

Richard bought a flogger about a year ago and he had used it on me for a few minutes then, just to show me how it felt, but we had never really had a “session” with it. He decided that we needed special music and downloaded (had to open iTunes to check; this is not a misspelling) Delerium, which he says is good music to flog to (okay that sounds really funny to me). He had me set up the speakers. Then he told me to find the handcuffs and the flogger.

It all felt a bit odd to me. Remember that I am a newbie; my relationship with Richard is my first experience with BDSM and we have never done any “scenes” or much playing at all. So it felt strange to be calmly helping Richard set up the bedroom so that he could FLOG me, for goodness sake. Very calm and business-like, not like when he grabs me and molests me or swats me when I’m sassy.

Anyway. I sat on the side of the bed while he set things up. He looked over at me and casually said “Take off your clothes”. So I did. Then he picked up one of my sarongs and blindfolded me with it, and put on my handcuffs and laid me across a couple of pillows. He checked to make sure I was comfortable and explained that he didn’t want any discomfort to interfere with the sensations I was feeling, so he wanted me to tell him if I became uncomfortable. I was feeling very quiet and submissive from being blindfolded and handcuffed so I murmured “Yes sir” very quietly.

He turned on the music, which is very…rhythmic, moody, pulsing…oh, Richard says Delerium is techno dance music. He started by rubbing me, softly but firmly, starting at my calves and going up my ass and back and shoulders. Then he trailed the flogger over my legs, then over my ass, then over my shoulders and back. He slowly began striking me with the flogger, first gently and slowly, then harder and quicker.

I felt the strikes move up my legs to my ass, lingering there before moving down again. Occasionally he would strike my shoulders a few times, which was always a shock. I would feel the stinging there for longer than on my legs and ass.

Sometimes he would focus on my ass for several minutes at a time. The thudding was almost soothing, although every once in a while it would start to hurt and I would cry out softly and reach for a pillow to hang onto. But it never got so bad that I felt scared. I knew that Richard would not push me too hard, at least not this time. : ) After he had been hitting harder or faster for a bit, he would slow down or move the flogging higher or lower on my body.

Every few minutes he would touch my ankle with one hand or stop and caress my (throbbing) ass. I loved those times. I felt so safe and so loved. He was doing this for ME. I had been a bit concerned that flogging me would bore him, but I made myself let that go and just float with the sensations. Twice I think my mind would start to wander, but I pulled it back again quickly (I have a very active monkey mind; things like meditating and yoga are challenging for me).

When he was flogging me on my upper thighs and ass, and not too hard, sometimes it felt very sexy and I longed for him to touch me. I could feel my thighs spreading and my ass rising to meet his hands, almost without my volition.

Oh, I almost forgot. At one point, one song ended and instead of another beginning, a podcast by one of my colleagues began “Hello, this is Dr. X and today I’d like to talk about ” Omigosh it was so funny. I giggled, and Richard had to stop and skip to the next song. It happened one more time - who knows how the podcasts managed to get mixed in with the Delerium downloads.

At just exactly the perfectly right time, he slowwwwly began dragging the flogger along my ass and legs. He would stop and re-start a second later and each time he did that I felt a jolt, a short little almost-coming. He put down the flogger and rubbed me with his hands for a few minutes, gently soothing my deliciously aching thighs and ass and back, then he removed my handcuffs. He rolled me onto my back and said “Now you need to come for your Daddy” and I did.

I thought he had been flogging me for 20 or 30 minutes, but he told me later that it was an hour. He also told me that after I came, he held me tightly for 30 minutes before he sent me to get ready for bed. I don’t really remember that. When I came back to bed, I snuggled up very tightly to him. He said the rest of the night I stayed very, very close to him. If we separated, I would become restless and he would place a hand firmly on me to settle me. He said I’m always a bit like that at night, but much moreso last night.

I need to stop now and eat dinner. We have just bought a really lovely gas grill (we’ve always used a charcoal grill before, but we grill so often we thought this would be easier) and Richard is making tri-tip and grilled asparagus. I am going to make mojitoes (mojitos?). Tomorrow I will tell you about my first experience with sub-drop. Really.

xoAmy