For the love

For the love

Friday, August 1, 2014

The last couple of months have been...challenging. If you've read through this blog; then you know that Mistress and I live apart. Although we have daily contact and may actually talk to each other more than people who live together; the actual in-the-same-room time is limited. Generally, we get a single weekend a month with maybe a day-trip tossed in between.

We didn't see each other for the entirety of June.

It's just the demands of our lives. We had a weekend late in May and vacation was scheduled for early July. Because funding is limited, we had to choose whether to have more time together at vacation and skip overnight trips in June, or have our regular trip in June and then see vacation reduced to little more than an average trip. We chose to have four days together in July.

We also planned a day-trip for June. The plan was for us to meet at a small waterpark in Connecticut (with my kids present) and to have a long, fun-filled day. However, those plans were cancelled because both of my kids got in trouble at school. We can't reward bad behavior, so the adults ended up losing out because of the kids. This is just how parenting goes. It was the right decision, but it was a last minute change that took away the only time we could have had together in June.

Such a lengthy time apart is not easy for me (Mistress has Her own challenges - but She can speak about them, if She wishes). I have the demands that come with parenting a set of very active seven-year-olds who are way too smart for their own good. I love them, and I cannot imagine a life without them, but they are exhausting. Unlike my childhood, they are not left unsupervised for lengthy periods and I plan daily events with them and for their benefit. This means that I am often as tired as they are by bedtime - or earlier.

There is also the very human need for touch and affection that goes (somewhat) unmet during these times apart. Yes, I get a lot of hugs and kisses from my kids, and they are enough to keep me going. But there is a level of touch and affection that they cannot possibly give me. There is a hunger for Her touch that nothing else can relieve. The only bright spot in that hunger is that I know, in a short time, I will feel Her touch again. When we are together, I drink in Her touch like a sponge, charging my "touch-batteries" for our time apart. This helps me get through our time apart, although I always melt into Her embrace as soon as I can.

Having an unexpected delay in recharging my batteries makes it more difficult to bear being apart. The sudden loss of an expected day-trip was emotionally draining for me. It was like being punched in the gut while the rug is ripped out from under my feet. But I'm an adult, so I push through it. As I often say, "The only way out is through."

I feel like I need to make something clear at this point: I gladly suffer the loss of Her touch. There is no other touch from anyone else on earth who could take away the pain of not feeling Her feel me - and if there were, I would refuse it until She could lay hands on me again. As much as I hate being away from Her, I have come to accept and even enjoy the pain of being away. It's hard to explain, but if it didn't hurt to be away; then it wouldn't be so good to be in Her presence. I guess that either makes sense or it doesn't. I can't explain it better. The point is: I'm not complaining that it hurts to be away from Her, I'm just describing it. She makes it worthwhile.

Of course, there are also the kinky needs that throb with hunger, too. I want the combination of pleasure and pain that She grants me. Again, if I had the freedom to seek satiation with another; then I would refuse it. I know that some people hold their emotions separate from their kink - but for me they are tied together in an extremely tight package. I could (theoretically) feed the desire for sensation, but I would still be left hollow inside if it came from anyone but Her. Again, not complaining - I'm glad to have someone I can yearn for - I'm just describing things.

Additionally, there is a strain on my finances. My paychecks come and go with the school year, and I don't qualify for unemployment (in part because my job doesn't pay enough for enough weeks...). I get the benefit of spending summer with my kids, and not having to pay for childcare...but it comes with a lot of anxiety over bills and worrying over every dollar that goes out of my wallet. At best, my next paycheck will be in October. Depending on several factors, it could be less than expected. (My quasi-employment status is something I've been trying to change for some time, but the suck-ass economy has made changing careers difficult.)

So there have been the emotional demands of parenting, along with the physical exertion of it. There has been the aching for Her touch. There has been the longing for sensation and release of emotional-energy. There has been worry over finances. Then there has been one more monster hiding in my closet...

Several years ago, I was diagnosed with clinical depression. It isn't tied to any specific happening in my life - it isn't episodic. It is like the free-floating sense of dread that comes with anxiety, but with sadness. I am extremely fortunate to have access to medication that keeps it under control. Believe me, I am thankful for that - and for the people who make it so. Even in the best of times, it lurks in the shadows. I count every day that I get out of bed and get happy to be a victory. Sometimes, just holding it down to a level of grouchiness is a victory.

As I've learned to live with it, I've learned what triggers it. All of those needs that I described? They serve as triggers, to some extent. I've learned to avoid HALT (Hunger, Angry, Lonely, Tired) feelings because they can spiral quickly. I've learned to eat well and exercise. I've learned to process emotions in small helpings so they don't build up. I deal with it, but it's always there. It makes good times slightly less enjoyable, and it makes hard times even harder.

I made it to our vacation, though. For two days, we had only to worry about each other. She picked me up at the train station and we spent the day holding hands and touching, having lunch and shopping. Then we checked into our hotel and collapsed into each other. We laugh and loved and all of my needs were fed. It was a wonderful time, and it went by far too quickly. It made the time apart worthwhile, by a longshot.

Then we picked up my kids and had two more days together. Obviously, the activities were different, but the hotel where we stayed had a separate sleeping room for adults. That gave us a bit of privacy, and I was grateful for that. Still, the dynamics are different when there are kids involved, and we are both mindful of managing what children are exposed to - you know, like adults SHOULD do when kids are around.

Those two days were over quickly, as well. Four days of heaven that were somehow simultaneously enough and yet not enough. If vacation is judged on how many recovery days are needed; then I needed two and a half. Of course, all the same stressors are present that were there before vacation - but my touch batteries are recharged and I can make it through to our next weekend. In the meantime, I will focus on being a good dad and making the career change that will allow Mistress and I to be together.

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Funny you should ask...

Mistress has been very patient in my reluctance to write this post. My reluctance doesn't stem from either shyness or from lack of material. It's just that I love what She wrote so much that I feel like anything I offer would detract from it.

Here I go a round about fashion.

I have an acquaintance that is a professional comedian. He is a great person to bounce jokes off of because he has a professional laugh that he is willing to give to almost any level of comedy. But if he knows a person well enough, he will tuck that away and give you his comedian face. It is completely blank and even his eyes shutter as he automatically moves to considering the intellectual angles that compete with the earthly shades of humor. In this mode, you know that you are onto something when he takes a drink and says, "Yeah, that has legs. Let it run." If you can make him actually chuckle - even a little - then you have a gem.

When laughter is the coin of the realm, then even a chuckle is expensive.

Laughter is a coin that Mistress and I spend back and forth endlessly. We are both quick witted and our conversations often contain wry observations and puns that, I know from experience, leave some people exasperated and confused. One of the things I love about Her is that She is so nimble mentally, and we rarely race ahead of each other by much. So I could give dozens of examples of things that made either of us laugh, but that really doesn't do justice to the joy we bring to each other.

Like love, the best parts of laughter are those that grow and build on each other. Like building a parfait (Who doesn't like parfait?), each layer balances on the next. Each layer can be savored in its own right, but it is when one cuts down through it and gets the whole experience that one can truly understand what they have in their hands. Or mouth. Or spread over their genitals... (and I'm not saying that has happened...or that it hasn't happened...)

At some point, we were discussing all of the slang that is connected to naming a pussy. Bearded clam. Snatch. Va-jay-jay. Cookie. We agreed that none of them actually made it sound like something a guy would like to get face-to-face with on an intimate basis. The closest we could come was the word "pussy" - which became "cat" - which became "kitty" - which somehow morphed into "Purr." We agreed that this was an acceptable term because, among other things, I can make Her purr (just give me half an hour and a semi-comfortable flat surface...).

Since Purr is dominant, we gave Her a title - Ms. Purr. However, I felt it necessary to give Her a last name, because, after all, it isn't just any purr that I'm talking about. It is Ms. Purr MaGucchi. Then, of course, She needed a proper title. "International Vag of Mystery."

I have to explain that the title came to me as I considered Purr MaGucchi to be an excellent super-spy - better than James Bond at getting the men to talk. That led directly to Her theme song:

She's the vag who never runs from danger
With dagger and cloak she's always a perfect stranger
Where others fear to tread, she's never filled with dread
Odds are she will leave you sad tomorrow
Purr MaGucchi's here! Purr MaGucchi's here!
You know that you're in danger
When Purr MaGucchi knows your name!

Laugh all you want, but how many of you have genitals with their own theme song? Yeah, I thought so.

This would be funny if left alone, but I can never leave things well enough alone. So I decided that my genitals ALSO needed a name. After all, Purr MaGucchi needs an arch enemy...

Pierre Baguette was born! Well, he got his name, anyway. This also led to the often-dropped catch phrase, "Well, Pierre is a dick!"

Pierre, however, does not have a theme song. Yet. He is pushing for something strong and dramatic, but will probably end up with something silly.

As it turns out, Pierre is not a good arch enemy. Because, well, he's a dick. Dickishness is not really a crime. So it was decided that he is the side-kick/love-interest for Purr MaGucchi. She might return his affection if it weren't for his constant companions, the Numnutz twins - Lefty and More-Lefty. (I just made that up.) Right now, She is enamored with Slurpy Licking. (That, too.)

The birth of a villain is always shrouded in tragedy, and this story is no different. One of the things I love to do for Mistress is to shave Her legs. So, recently, I was doing that and Mistress decided that it was time to go do something else. The intent was that I was finish the job later that day. Sadly, it didn't happen that way.

So as we lie together, grieving for Her one unshaven leg - Juan-Harry L'egg was born! From the hard-scrabble stubble of neglect, he has declared that Purr MaGoochy will never know another night of peace!

Yes, he has a theme song:

Aye yai yai-yai
Juan-Harry L'egg
You cannnot shave me away!
I'll be back tomorrow anyway!

Yes, in the middle of all the ki-fu*, there is still plenty of time to love and cuddle, and yes - to laugh. God help us if the laughter ever stops.

*kinky fuckery

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

On the lighter side of the Darkness

Its a New Year! Welcome 2014!  Okay, I know that its MARCH...but with work and life and snow up to My ass... writing has not been on My mind.  Trying not to freeze when the polar vortex or whatever shit they are blame for the cold has been My main focus.  The holidays are long since done and finally, life can get back to normal-ish.  Everything is normal-ish...  since we are technically still living outside the norm.  But we have our own norm and that is a good place to be.

Last year we had some rough times, but things are actually quite good between Us and that is a very good feeling.  I know some of you suspected that we had blown apart.  Not likely. We are good, things are good and that's that.  So says Me, and I am the boss!  HEHEHE

The stereo-type of BDSM is dark and serious... its often hateful and angry and negative.  Some people like that, and some need it.  As we have said over and over... if that is your thing, enjoy it.  Its just not OUR thing.  We like cozy, cuddly, slightly wicked...ok sometimes very wicked...and we like to laugh. WHAT?  Laugh? GASP!  No worries, they are not coming to take away our BDSM union card.

I have been aching to write about some of the really funny parts of this lifestyle of ours.  I have always been clear on the fact that we laugh a lot, but often those laughs are private moments.  Being the ME that I am, means that I am selfish with some things...  those private and priceless moments get locked into a vault, not to be shared...  Honestly, sometimes that does not make sense...  LOL  So I want to share some of those moments, the ones that make Me laugh so hard that I cannot even stand up.

You all know that tomio and I live apart.  This means that we spend our together times in hotels.  Some day we will just pick one and keep going there, but in the 3 years we have been to all sorts of places.  There was the crappy motel that with the driveway so steep we almost needed a sherpa to get to it.  The most exciting part of that one was the huge hornet nest right near the parking area that made the trips to the car...exciting and fast! Unlock the car with the remote...and 3, 2 1 RUN!!!   LOL  We have been lucky because so far we have not been to any really bad places and a few have been quite lovely.  We found one that we REALLY like that has a kitchenette in it, so he can cook bacon in the nude for Me. (evil grin)  I love bacon, but a naked man cooking bacon is just about the best thing that a Domme could ask for!  LOL  Sadly they remodeled that one and now the price is out of our range.

Because we don't always have a kitchenette, and money is tight, and getting tighter, we usually bring food to heat up and share. I happen to be a very good cook and he is an amazing baker.  So I made meatballs and he made sandwich rolls.  One of the funniest moments ever started as Me going into the bathroom and him asking if I would like for him to make a meatball sub for Me.  Of course, who does not want a meatball sub? So after washing my hands I step out of the bathroom and for a moment, My brain could not comprehend what I was seeing.   Laying on his back on the bed, spread eagle, is My naked tomio with (wait for it!) a sandwich roll encasing his balls!!   I am not sure if he was trying to be the meatball, or the sub, but I do know that I literally nearly fell over laughing!  By the time I staggered over to the bed, I was laughing so hard that I could barely breathe and I had tears rolling down My cheeks!   Oh Yeah, we know how to rock the serious shit!  LOLOLOL

Since we are on the topic of food...  tomio is a whore for My pink girl cock, but also for Nutter Butters. So one time, as a surprise when he was in the bathroom, I made a trail of mini peanut buttery cookies, from the doorway up the bed and to Me...  as I lay looking yummy he came into the room and his face lit up like I had not seen before.   He was very happy for that treat, but I can't help but wonder if it was Me... or the cookies!

Very early in our relationship, probably for our first Valentines Day, tomio got to the room early and decked the place out.  He got Lilies (My favorite flower) and put them in a vase, had chocolates laid out and scatter a trail from the door to the bed and all over the bed with fresh rose petals.  It was SO sweet, and so romantic.  The thing that they DON'T show in the movies is that rose petals get ground into everything!  They stain the sheets, stain your skin, stain tomio's heels and get stuck in all sorts of places.  At one point I burst into hysterics, when I noticed rose petals in the crack of his ass!  The moral of this tale is that movies are full of impossible shit, and rose petals need to go into the trash. Trust Me on that one!  LOL

Did we ever mention the drooling? So we were getting down and dirty (waggles eyebrows) and My darling tomio...  well he was really getting into it, shall we say...  and suddenly, yup, you guessed it he drooled on Me!  Down My chin, onto My neck... Oh god he was so horrified!  I chuckled and wiped it off... and the apologies started.  That made Me laugh even harder.  What's a little drool between lovers?  I mean
 if he is so wrapped up that he drools... I take that as a compliment!

Sometimes people that chat about the kink, are just plain full of crap.  This one guy in a chat group claimed that his Mistress made him paint her toenails with the brush held between his teeth and punished him if he made mistakes.  I immediately laughed and said that was complete bullshit.  My dear tomio had to try it out!  I ended up with nail polish all over My toes, tomio had a headache from the stink of the nail polish held so close to his nose.  Its simple physics!  The brush from a bottle of nail polish is so short that unless you are some sort of mutant, there is no way in hell you would be able to even SEE where the tip of the brush was, never mind move it in the right way to actually do anything other than make a huge mess! It was like the kinky version of that show where they bust myths.  Epic fail!

Across from one of the hotels that we like is a dinky little Lebanese restaurant that makes some of the best food ever.  One night when we had a little extra money we went and got take-out. We decided to split an assortment plate to try a bunch of different things. Imagine, if you will, small chunks of chicken and beef  with a garlic yogurt sauce that tastes like the kiss of an angel, rice that looks like plain white rice but tastes like heaven.... you get the idea ...amazingly yummy.  So we were sitting there tasting these lovely things, enjoying them immensely and tomio got quiet.  I was looked up to find him lost in the food, shoving the bits into his mouth, eyes glassy, soft appreciative noises escaping his lips.  So I stop to watch him... he was oblivious to My attention until I cleared My throat.  "Ummm, any chance you are going to actually share that with your Mistress?"  He blinked, confused and looked down.  The take-out container was nearly empty, his cheeks were full and he blushed.  "I am sorry, Mistress...its just SO GOOD!"  I could not disagree with him, but I did have to take his fork away so that I could actually get some of it. (grins)

One of the lovely treats that tomio has made for Me is a chocolate, coconut, peanut butter, oatmeal concoction that may not even have a name... other than "that awesome chocolate thing."  When he makes it, we usually eat a very good sized container over the course of the weekend. Its one of those things that you just can't resist another nibble, just because you walked by the container.  Well we had not realized how many times those nibbles happened on the way back to bed, until Sunday morning, when we realized that there were small chocolate smudges, as in 8 or 10 spots  all over the white hotel sheet!  Ooops!

So, as you can see, there is joy and laughter mixed in with our dirty, sexy, wicked, kinky kind of love!  There as to be laughter because there is love.  It's a magical sort of kink...  and it just makes Me so happy!

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

New Year-- Make it Happy and love each other!

Just a quick note of thanks for all the people who follow us and those that read us on the sly!  LOL

Happy New Year to you all.  For each of you I hope you find a place and a person with whom your Kink fits perfectly.  Someone who makes you laugh and cry, for various reasons.  Someone who knows your needs and shares your hungers, and someone who makes it all worth it!  2014 is going to be a good year, I can feel it!

And to My tomio...  I love you always, in all ways.

Happy New Year!

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Saving The Dynamic

As tomio said, we usually try to write about positive things, but we are only human.  Part of being human is having weaknesses... it's how you handle the weaknesses that determines where you end up.

This is very difficult for Me to write, because, well... it's really hard to go through it all again.  I am really more of a get over it and move on sort of woman, but this does need to be shared.  If only to help someone else get through it.

My reality is that I live a bit of a dual life.  I am Me, the control freak Domme, lover and owner of tomio on one side and on the other side is the upright, professional woman with a warm smile and a quick laugh.  Part of that duality means that I must mislead some people in My life to keep them away from this side and to keep the guise of My public life.  I am comfortable with this, because it keeps the drama out of My world and I like it that way.

The person that I have never mislead, the person who knows all of My truth, the good, the bad and the ugly is My tomio.  He is My confidant and My sanity.  He lets Me be Me more than any person in the world, and for that I am entirely grateful.   So imagine Me, sick, feverish, congested and just needing to sleep for a week so I can get better... imagine Me calling sweet tomio to get My loving goodnight so I could curl into bed for the night.  What I got on the other end was not My sweet tomio, but instead an angry, mean, somewhat crazed man who was screaming at Me.  I could hear his teeth gritting and hear the struggle in his voice.  I was confused to say the least. My mind was racing, what could possibly have happened to cause this?  He was not making sense, making accusations that were only half formed because he was so upset, and just going on and on, anger pouring out off him like lava from a volcano.

I felt like I had been blind-sided, then sucker-punched.  Nothing he was saying was making any sense to Me...  Stop...stop...STOP just fucking STOP!

The details of the fight are not important to anyone but us.  What is important is what we did about the fight itself.  

The biggest problem on My end is that his reaction terrified Me.  This was not just anger, it was RAGE, white hot rage and it was terrifying.  It was the first time that I was actually GLAD that there was distance between us. That is very hard to admit, even to Myself.

The second issue is that I was feeling guilty for something, and had no idea what it was.  Obviously I had failed him somehow and I needed to fix it....but I did not even understand what it was that was wrong, and he had made some pretty painful accusations.

So what do you do?  How do you address a train wreck like this?

The bottom line is that you talk about it.  You talk and you talk and you talk, honestly, openly with with good intentions.  You dig into all of those dirty corners and discuss every little thing until you can't talk any more.  Then the hard work starts.  You have to rebuild trust, because love is a wonderful thing, but it cannot fix everything.

After we had discussed everything and agreed that it was a giant misunderstanding, we set about making it right.  In the type of relationship we have, trust is paramount.  He needs to trust Me and I need to trust him and we both need to relax into the dynamics of what we have and what we want to continue to have. That was when he realized that I was afraid of his anger and because of that fear I was hesitant to be with him again.

Everyone has baggage.  What do you do when all of a sudden you are wrapped up in someone else's baggage?  The truth of the matter is that often we unwillingly wrap the ones we love into the mess made by other people.  Its not fair, but we do it.    So you start by separating the guilty parties from the innocent ones.  You pick through the details of the wrongs and you look long and hard at them.    My tomio has a lot of baggage.  I knew that going into it, but the ugliness of the past can taint the beauty of today if you let it.  We dug through it all, detail by detail.  It was hard and it was ugly.  But in the end it was worth it, because in the end we were closer.

It started to get better.  Things were feeling better and there was joy returning to our lives.  Then it happened again.  Tomio did not mention that part.  He did it again.  He blew up at Me a second time.  I was torn to shreds again, and again I was glad he was so far away.  Apparently everything was not resolved and it was going to take a while.  The second blow up had a slightly different flavor to it, but the affect was also different.

I am a very controlled person.  I keep My emotions tight to My chest and present a strong front at all times.  But that second blow up stuck with Me.  More than I had realized, it had gotten inside.  I developed a fear reflex every time we started to talk about deep things.  At first I did not realize it but then it hit Me.  I was demanding reassurance that he was not going to blow up before I could call him at night.  And finally I had to admit it to him.  "I feel like you have given Me a form of PTSD and I can't handle it!"   Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is complicated and far more serious than My own issues, but I needed him to understand how big it was.   He was very quiet.

I am a strong woman and it is hard for Me to admit when I can't be strong.  So I opened My weakness up to him.  I could not do it alone. That was hard, so very hard to do.  Why was it hard?  Because I am Dominant in our relationship.  Deep down in the dark places in My heart, I was feeling like I had failed our dynamic in My own way.  I was not able to be strong enough to get over this one the way I needed to... and it was eating at My confidence.   Both times that he blew up, I was weakened by either illness or stress or exhaustion.  I was feeling like I could not show weakness or I opened Myself up to another attack.  It was ugly.

We talked, we cried and in the end we were still the same people.  I was still Dominant.  He was still submissive and our dynamic was intact.   I told him honestly that I was not sure that I could survive another blow up, and that he had to talk to Me long before it got to that point again.

He agreed that he would talk to Me and he understood that if he continued to blow up, the damage was likely to be big.  Not to say that he was not allowed to be human, quite the opposite.  He was just not allowed to simmer any more.

There are still times when I need to check in with him about how he is doing and get reassured that there is nothing under the surface brewing.   Its going to take time.  He has asked Me what it will take to fix it entirely...  and time was the only answer.

We are human, and flawed in our own ways.  Communication cannot ever be replaced with lust.  Love does not conquer all, but it makes it worth the struggles.  I know it does.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Failing the dynamic

Mistress and I started blogging because we realized we have a rare and wonderful love that is express through a D/s relationship. It wasn't filled with humiliation and degradation (as too much material out there would have you believe), but on mutual respect and compatible desires. We decided that there needs to be more voices of "normal" folks who enjoy BDSM as a lifestyle.

We try to keep things as real as we can. We often focus on what is good and pleasurable and wonderful and affirming. This, unfortunately, is not one of those posts. This is a post about my humanity, and how I'm so far from perfect, and how Mistress loved me enough to withstand my fury.

The reason for my anger isn't really important as far as this post is concerned. What is important is to know that something happened that surprised and shocked me. I quickly went from surprise to hurt, and then from hurt to anger. Then anger turned to rage and I exploded.

Early in my life, I struggled with an explosive anger. I learned how to control it by delaying my reactions. After all, there are few things in modern life that demand an immediate fight or flight response. Over the decades, I have practiced this into something close to second nature. This makes me slow to anger...most of the time.

I also have to say that this could not have happened at a worse time for Mistress. She came home from work with a bit of a scratchy throat, and it very quickly grew into a full-blown sickness (just a cold, but it was bad enough). By the time this incident happened, right before bedtime, She was exhausted. She had pushed herself to her limit...and I was about to push Her beyond it.

I tried to hold back and wait for a better time, but I couldn't. I was at the heights of distress, and everything came tumbling out with no filter whatsoever. I was raging at Her and wouldn't listen to any words of reason. I made accusations and I raised my voice, over and over again. Not only was I not submissive, I wasn't even respectful.

In short, I failed the dynamic on which our relationship is built. From the moment we began moving towards a relationship, I have been submissive in all of my dealings with Her. There have been perhaps a handful of times when I said things that were out of line, but a quick word from Her was all it took to restore the dynamic of our relationship. That did not happen this time. The dynamic completely broke down.

Mistress talked to me for two hours, and a good part of that time "talk" was merely me spouting angry words in a very disrespectful manner. Exhausted and physically sick, emotionally stunned and reeling from my accusations, She stayed with me. She took everything I flung at Her. She was strong in a way She should never have to be strong. I can only hope that I would have that kind of strength for Her if She needed it.

In the end, there was no way to definitively show what happened. I could either insist that I was right, and destroy everything we have built, or I could believe in Her. I chose the second path. I would like to say that I chose to believe Her because She is too valuable to me to not believe Her - but even though that is true, that isn't what convinced me to trust Her. I chose to believe Her because, when I finally calmed down, there was no reason for me not to believe Her. Everything I know about this woman insisted that I was wrong. So I swallowed what I believed happen and stepped into Her arms on faith, and believed Her.

There was damage to repair, but first, we needed sleep. It took me a while, but I slept, and woke up exhausted. As I always do, my first action was to text Mistress and greet Her for the day. Her reply told me that I had really hurt Her. I had rocked the foundation upon which we stand, and She wasn't going to jump back on Her feet immediately. "I'm sorry" is a great start, but it is never the ending.

So we talked. Then we talked. Then we talked some more. All of this while She was sick and physically drained from fighting sickness. She explained how it felt to be on the receiving end of my rage. She told me that it made Her scared to be near me if I should ever become like that again. She explained how it hurt Her that I did not believe Her. If we do not have trust; then do we have anything?

I spent some time reassuring Her. I explained how best to handle my rage (don't touch me, send me away to cool down). I apologized for my behavior. I promised it wouldn't happen again. She assured me that my emotions are acceptable, no matter what, but I have to find a better way to address them with Her.

After She rested, and I had time to think, we broached the subject yet again. I unpacked a lot of baggage that I have carried for years. None of it had anything to do with Her, but an innocent misunderstanding triggered all of the hurt and betrayal stuffed into that baggage. Without excusing my actions, She understood why I had behaved as I did. Without letting me off the hook for what I had done, She released me from responsibility for having been hurt in the past. Then She made me feel loved and treasured.

As Her control reasserted itself, I realized that I felt something else: safe. This is perhaps one of the greatest gifts that any person can give to another, but it is particularly necessary for a Dominant to give to a submissive - the understanding that it is safe to be submissive and not pretend to be in control of things. It is knowing that the harms of the past will not be renewed. It is knowing that love and acceptance do not change with moods. Without this safety, nothing else can be built.

I want to make it clear that the way She set about restoring Her authority was pleasant. She could have said, "I'm the Dominant, and you're the sub. You will do what I say." I would have accepted that, but I would have struggled with it. She could have simply punished me for my behavior. I would have accepted that, as well, but it would not have restored our relationship - only the authority that I had usurped. Instead, She found out what was going on with me, what I needed to prevent further outbursts, what to do if the prevention failed, and then - THEN - She set up new rules to deal with this new situation.

Such events are never truly behind us, though. They are rolled into the ongoing experience of how we relate to each other. These things either tear people apart, or make them realize what is important and strengthen them. We have taken the second path, and that is because She chose to listen with love and help me through a crisis before restoring Her authority, and I chose to trust the woman I love - who is, after all, the most trustworthy person I've ever known.

Monday, September 30, 2013

Compare and Contrast: The Mighty Dildo Review

You know how it is when you order a new toy and wait with joyful expectation for its arrival so you can try it out and just lay there in the blissful afterglow, amazed by how much better reality is than any fantasy you've ever had?

If you've ever had that feeling; then hold that memory dear, because you won't be experiencing it with the Doc Johnson Raging Hardons Slimline Cobalt Blue Jellie 7-inch Ballsie. First of all, the name is WAY too complicated. I want to choke on the cock in my throat, not the name attached to it. But Doc Johnson is generally a good company and it offers affordable toys of decent quality. So we ordered it. And we were excited when it came in. So far, so good.

I think the good doctor may need his license examined. At the very least, it is apparent that Doc Johnson is not a urologist or male genitalia specialist of any sort. If this is what the Doc considers to be a "raging hardon" then I truly pity whatever woman he is with. It has the rigidity of a warm hot dog. It can't even stand up on its own without leaning over like a yoga master. Mistress has taken to referring to it as "the Raging Flacid."

Other than the exceptionally misleading name, it's a decent product. I enjoyed it in my throat and could even take short, slow breaths around it. This means I could stay down on it longer, which is fun. It didn't even come close to triggering a gag reflex...which takes the challenge away. I like it when I choke a bit - Mistress loves the way my eyes tear up when I stare up at Her in adoration, and I feel totally slutty (in the best way) when a bit of drool falls from my lips and drops onto my chest. So it's a trade off - easier to deep throat, but less of the fun stuff that comes from doing so. Of course, I could just spit on myself and She could poke my eye, but that just isn't as sexy.

At the other end, it was about the same. It was too soft for Mistress to thrust with it in Her harness, so She had to take matters (and dildo) into hand. Because it is fairly slender, it was easy to take and the ridges felt wonderful. However, She had to go fairly slowly because otherwise it sort of wobbled and threatened to double over instead of going in.

So it's a good, affordable toy - but the name is misleading (even though it is called "jellie" - after all, some jelly-like products are also fairly rigid). We both enjoyed having the toy, but felt a bit ripped-off. I think it would be a great toy for someone who wants to try a dildo for the first time, but I would advise the "raging hardon" be removed from the name.

We continued our search for the Perfect Girl-Cock with a grab-bag order from Tantus. The good news is that the price was incredible. The bad news, potentially, is that you have no control over the color of the toy, though you can choose the toy. That's what grab bag means, after all. What we got was a pink Echo Vibrator and a coffee colored Vamp.

We tried the Echo first, with the vibrating bullet removed. The girth was just right to trigger a soft gag reflex that I could easily control. It fit into my throat without any sense of stretching and I wasn't able to breath around it. This makes deep throating a work of breath control - which I love - and it leaves me a little breathless. My eyes teared satisfactorily, but Mistress stopped just before I started drooling. A little longer, though, and I would have been a very messy slut (maybe next time).

Mistress had no trouble slipping it into my ass. The girth was, again, perfect. The length was perfect. The ripples gave just enough stimulation to turn me into a whimper ball of ecstasy. I found just the right arch of my back to allow it to stroke my prostate so that I was dripping within a few moments. Mistress could take me as hard as She wanted and as fast as She wanted. She could also take me slowly and lovingly. It performed as well no matter how She used it.

The only thing that didn't exceed our expectations was the vibe. It is bigger and more powerful than most bullet vibes, but it just didn't hit Mistress in the right spot. Given the variation among women, I don't know how a designer could possibly make one that is right for everyone, though. One of my fantasies is for Her to take me until She orgasms from it...and I don't think that will happen with this one.

I would still give it my highest recommendation. It is a wonderful toy, and just thinking about taking it again gives me a yummy tingling in my lower belly.

Mistress didn't really care for the color of the Vamp because She doesn't want a girl-cock that looks like a boy-cock. In general, the color doesn't have any impact for me. Compared to the Echo, it has a bit bigger girth. It feels a bit shorter, when on the business side of it, but I couldn't swear that it is.

Kneeling before Her and seeing it at eye level was just a bit intimidating, but in an exciting way. The color DID make a difference, but it was not major and not unpleasant. It did not fit easily into my throat. I had to choke back my gag reflex and push hard. When it was in, I felt...impaled. If it had been a half inch longer, I think it would have been more comfortable, but I couldn't swear that I could get that much in my throat. It would be an excellent tool to help me learn to control my gag reflex better.

The increased girth made me gasp when Mistress pushed into my ass. She has a plug that is bigger and we both love when I take that, so it wasn't enough to make me feel stretched. But I knew that I was taking a big cock in my ass. That, in itself, made me feel slutty and dirty (again, these are good things for me). When Mistress drew back, the tip just started to slide out of me before She pounded it into me again (this is why I think it is a bit shorter than the Echo). This made my anus flex uncontrollably in a way that the Echo didn't. That extra loss of control was a big bonus for me. Plus, it is big enough that it drove air from my lungs with every thrust, so that I was panting in short order.

Again, I was able to arch so that it hit my prostate - though "pummeled" is more like it. Yes, that is also a good thing. Wetness dripped out of me and slid down my thigh, making me feel like the dirtiest bitch that ever took a girl-cock in his ass. I think if Mistress had kept it up just a bit longer, I would have had an orgasm from it (and I have had real and true orgasms - white creamy ejaculate pumping from my cock -  from Her taking my ass, so I'm not exaggerating).

Like the Echo, this has my highest recommendation. However, it is definitely not a beginner's toy. But both the Echo and the Vamp left us with that very happy feeling of having gotten more than we expected - and at an amazing price.