We Had The Talk

It's a too-long story. But yes we talked. I told him how I felt. And why. And I only finally got the whole story when we talked. He should have just told me ALL of it, the details, from the beginning and then maybe I wouldn't have been so hurt. 

This is the perceived version (me) vs the truth (reality):~

When he first told me he was headed out one Sunday evening, I wish he would have said his friend wanted him at a training session he was conducting to get his opinion on their training. 

NOT - I'm just going to be a busybody and take a look and see what they're doing. 

NOT - It might give me an excuse to come out and meet you on Sundays.

Re taking over the position of coach, I wish he would have said they (his friends) were doing a crap job at training these boys and were never going to be able to form a team the way they were going, so he offered to help train them. Cos they're hoping to have a team ready for tournaments. Wait. I wish he had TOLD ME he was going to be coaching these fellas in the first place. 

NOT - I'm headed out for football training (I didn't even know he was now their coach).

NOT - Cos they don't know what they're doing (when I asked why HE was doing the training).

When I asked what this football training was all about anyway, I wish he would have said this was under the auspices of a charity group that was helping underprivileged kids in an effort to give them something worthwhile to work at, to keep them off the streets, to help them learn about team spirit and build their sense of community. 

NOT - a bunch of kids in the whatever district who have nothing else better to do.

NOT - a group of teens they rounded up to form a team.

I went from being the reason he was even going to this thing to check it out and maybe say he's helping out, to being ignored and set aside FOR this thing he was now in charge of. Without even being told. I felt hurt and chucked aside. 

And whenever I mentioned it he ignored it. Multiple times. Heck every Sunday I would be upset when he said he was headed to training. In my mind that translated to "I'd rather go kick a ball around with a bunch of delinquent kids than spend time with you". 

Because that's what it was. He chose them. Over me. 

And every week when he texted me he was headed to training, that's what I heard. 

We are TTWD/ dd/lg whatever you wanna call it. He's supposed to be the one in charge - the dom, the adult, the protector and solver of problems. In reality, I know there are times when BOTH parties need to fix the problem, it's not a one person job. But I really needed him to step up and say "Look this is bugging you for some reason, and we need to deal with it because I don't like that every Sunday I do this thing and you get upset about it." 

I needed him to sit me down and talk it through and find out just what it was that I was upset about. It took me half a year. To figure out what it was. It took me getting upset week after bloody week to eventually realise I felt he chose them over me. It wasn't MY JOB to figure it out ALL ALONE. But he was no where to be seen - he did the ostrich thing. 

"When I mention it she gets upset, so I shall bring it up as little as possible." 

Which is stupid. IF he had told me about the match they played and lost, or that only 4 guys turned up  that day instead of the 13 they hoped for, or that it wasn't looking likely that they were going to get a proper team up and running anytime soon, or that the charity organisation in charge is hoping to get the team ready by whichever date so that they could go play tournaments; IF he had said ANY of these at ANY point I would have had the opportunity to find out just WHAT this whole damned thing was all about. 

Instead he kept me in the dark. The only information I had to work with was "I did this initially so I could have an excuse to visit you, but I've changed my mind, I'm going to spend Sundays with them instead." 

Wouldn't YOU be pissed? 

In the end he took me thru' the whole story right from the beginning, told me everything about everything and why he didn't get a chance to come visit me after the sessions (wife been sending him there and picking him after cos she wants the car)...  again, it wouldn't have killed him to tell me sooner. 

We made up - it was dealt with. But this spanking that was going to happen next... it was for reconnecting. I know I needed it. And I know why I needed it. But I needed to know HE knew too. I told him I needed to hear it from him - why he was spanking me and what it meant. I told him he didn't get to just spank me for fun and games. That if he was going to have the privilege of spanking me then he had to be worthy of it. And that meant being committed to the responsibility of being Daddy. 

He promised to be more committed to fixing us - that he wouldn't let things go un-dealt with for so long. 

As we were snuggling together afterwards, I started to tear. I realised that I was afraid that I couldn't trust him the way I did before. I wanted to. But I was afraid. With this episode I felt like I had to look after myself,  and work it out myself, and be the one to tell him we needed to talk. Yes, he did say the last time it happened that we would talk about it the next day but we were having a good relaxed time together and I wasn't in the right frame of mind for an emotional discussion. But he never brought it up again. 

I know he can't read my mind. But it's been a good 6 months (before we went to Ho Chi Minh even) that this has been going on. I can't even remember WHEN he started the Sunday thing. Surely that's too long to let something fester? He could have asked. He could have said, "Tell me when you're up to talking." He could have asked if now's a good time. He could have SET a time and said we'll talk on this day no matter what cos we need to. But he didn't. And I kept waiting. Because I couldn't face it. I couldn't figure it out. 

Until I could. Until I did. And it just felt like I was scrambling this whole time to do so alone. 

We're not bonded together - our relationship is fragile. The nature of our affair makes it so. A metal chain could stand a little knocking. But the sliver of spider-web that's holding us together, well, that would float away with the slightest breeze. 

I told him I needed to know that he would do everything he could to keep "us" safe. And not allow this sort of crap to happen again. 

He apologised, and reassured me that he wouldn't ever sweep things under the rug again, not like he did with this particular issue. 

The truth is most of the time he tells me stuff that's going on with him, and when someone's upset  about anything (usually me) we manage to talk about it and sort it out sooner rather than later. But when I don't know how to deal with something or I'm stuck trying to figure out what's going on in my head / heart, then we BOTH end up not talking about it. 

And I can't be the one who does the probing all the time. I need his help too - he needs to know that sometimes HE's gotta be the one who sits ME down and says "We need to talk". 

But yes, for now, this matter has been resolved. All it took was some explanation, not avoidance.

Don't Take it for Granted

On a recent post about our Friday night date kdpierre wrote a comment about how we find the time and energy to do so many things!

So the thing is, in all my relationships I've always been a believer of not letting the time I could spend with my s/o go to waste. 

A lot of the regrets I hear from older folk has to do with wasted time. Time they could have spent together with their loved ones, time they could have gone out and done something together, things they put off for another day then never found the (right) time to go back and do them. 

And I'm a pessimist by nature. The thought that's always at the back of my head is "what if I die tomorrow?" 

This is truer for me and BIKSS than most relationships I've been in, I think. Given the nature of our erm, well, affair, who knows when the time will come when I never see him again? What if this time we have together is the last time we'll be with each other? What if this is the last time we ever have dinner together? What if today is the last day I'll hear from you ever again? 

Besides, I've seen enough healthy youngish people collapse and drop dead for no good reason - yes, well, I know there's not ever a GOOD reason to drop dead, but you know what I mean. 

So while it's morbid, it also is the driving force behind my wanting to NOT waste any moment I could have with BIKSS doing something else that is less desirable. I won't use the word "important" because there are things which DO factor higher on the importance scale, my parents, my job, things that I need to do in this world to survive, earn a living and all that. But would I rather chill at home alone and watch TV than spend a couple of hours with BIKSS? No. Do I enjoy being in my own little alone-time-bubble? Yes, I do. But I PREFER to spend 2 hours with BIKSS than indulge my anti-social-ness.

Don't get me wrong.. I'm not saying EVERYONE should use the same scale or measure life or possible missed opportunities in the same manner... but that's the scale *I* use. And BIKSS knows this. He knows how I feel about the fragility of life. 

"You could end up in a ditch tomorrow." "I could have a heart attack in my sleep." "You might lose your job and get retrenched and be expected to be home all day, every day, and wouldn't be able to make an excuse to come out and see me quite so easily." 

And the passion? Each kiss really is kissed as if it might be the last. Each encounter, as if it might the last. Each meal, as if it might be the last. 

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what drives Fondles. And probably drives BIKSS... insane having to deal with Fondles!

Spanking the Stress Away

*Long emo post advisory*

Last Saturday Daddy dropped a bomb on me that really doesn't involve me at all, except that I could be collateral damage. Well, ok, he insists I'm a pessimist. I prefer the term Realist. He didn't see at first that it could make any great deal of difference. But I did.

The news sorta got blurted out, and the timing couldn't have been worse. He had originally intended to let me know in person cos these sorts of things can hit me hard. It has to do with his family - which usually only serves to underscore the glaring reality that he has a whole other life that I have nothing to do with. A more important life. A part of his life that is way bigger than I am or ever will be. 

I can hear the tut tuts, and the admonishments of "but you knew what you were getting into". Yeah I know, I know. Are you done? 

Right. Can I go on now? 

Anyway, my stomach had been gassy all Saturday morning as it was. When I got the news dumped on me so unceremoniously like that it just about made me totally sick. There's a Chinese saying that the stomach is the second brain. I think it means that when one is stressed, the symptoms tend to appear in one's tummy. It certainly is that way for me. (I might have mentioned this in an earlier post too, when I was stressing out about the parental units.)

Saturday is probably the worst time for me to get upsetting BIKSS news. I wouldn't be seeing him all weekend (I usually don't) and I would have to wait for Monday evening to have anything resembling a discussion about it. 

I was still a bit messed up on Sunday morning, but modern medicine is a wonderful thing. And I even went on a blind date on Sunday evening (but that's not the important bit of this story... I'll write something about that later perhaps). 

Monday morning rolled around and my gut was still upset with me. But work is work and unless I'm dying I'll go in. I'm dedicated like that. 

He did take me to work but the short commute wasn't the right time or place to have a discussion of any sort. 

We had plans to meet after work to have dinner and spend some time together. [read: deal with this shit.]

We went to a nearby stop for a quick dinner then came back to my place. After a shower and crawling into bed, I told him everything I was feeling. Like EVERYTHING. In the past I used to shut down and hide and pretend nothing was wrong; that I had dealt with it cos Hey, I'm a big girl, and you don't owe me nothing. 

PK wrote about how she retreats within her head and doesn't make her needs known to Nick. I'm quoting the bit I love best here :

I don’t scream and yell, I don’t curse and throw things. I slip away so quietly and so undetected that I’m sure he rarely knows I’m doing it. I don’t pout, I don’t give him the silent treatment, but I rarely start conversations. I don’t even give him dirty looks or eye rolls. I just go way where nothing he says or does affects me. It’s the ‘sure, fine, whatever’ mode. This may not seem so horrible, but it can seriously damage a relationship.

Sometime I wish he noticed. Sometimes I wish he’d call me on it. Sometimes I wish he’d give me a hard, serious spanking to snap me out of it. And if he doesn’t think I’m truly ‘back’ when he’s finished, I wish he would spank me again. Sometimes.

Other time I’m glad he doesn’t notice.

Boy, I can hear Nick’s thoughts on this. “Let me get this straight, I don’t know when you’re even doing this, but I’m supposed to recognize when it happens – even though you’re giving me no hints at all. But if I think it’s happening I should bust your ass, unless it’s one of the times you really don’t want me to notice, and then I should just leave you alone. Is that about it?”

Ok, sorry for borrowing that whole chunk, PK. But that, ladies and gentlemen, is essentially what I used to do all the time. And it's easy to slip back into it. I've done it all my life, you know? 

But back to Monday night. So I let it all out. I figure (with that timely reminder from PK/ Cassie) I should just tell him. Pretending to be clever and grown up and all that isn't going to work. I've been sick to my stomach for three days now. And if I didn't let it out goodness knows what kind of wreck I'd be by the end of the week, never mind anything further along than that!

We talked and I cried and I wailed and he seemed defeated and exasperated and annoyed(?) at some points, I was resigned, and disheartened, he was optimistic and encouraging... we pretty much went through a whole bunch of adjectives that night, and I was stressing so badly I hauled him out of bed and headed to the kitchen for a ciggie at my smoking corner. 

(Long time readers will know BIKSS is not a fan of me smoking, and when I'm with him I don't. Not unless I'm feeling rebellious. Or on holiday. But tonight wasn't about rebellion. It was stress. Pure and simple.)

We came back into the room and continued. It took a couple of hours. But eventually I told him what I needed. I needed assurances. I needed to know he didn't treat me like an afterthought. I needed to know that he would acknowledge there will (fine, MIGHT - he insists it's MIGHT and not WILL) be changes and he would do his darnedest to work around them. 

And finally I got what I needed. I needed to hear those words from him. (Hopefully, in the future BEFORE I start spiralling.)

I told him that it's horrible having these spirals because resolving them always takes time away from our spanking-n-sex sessions. 

He replied we could still get one in if I turned over now. 

I did. He spanked. And I started sniffing. And the tears came. And he felt me clench (my fist, not my butt cheeks cos that actually makes the spanking hurt more!) and shift and rub my face against his arm. 

(BIKSS spanks holding me like this only I'm facing down)

He stopped for a bit. To whisper gentle shushes.. said 'little girl' a couple of times. It wasn't a question; didn't need a response. Just a statement of fact. "Little girl." 

I sniffed. He continued to spank me. I held on to him tight. 

"We'll be ok.. hm?" 

I nodded. He rubbed my bum. It hurt. More than usual. 

When my breathing slowed some, he started spanking again. Multiple smacks in the same spot. Then same on the other cheek. This was a lot for BIKSS. Most of the time I feel I'm not getting spanked enough! 

Yet this evening twice when I thought he was done - and I was happy for him to be - he wasn't. 

As I recall I'd only ever been spanked to tears ONCE.  But later on BIKSS said I have in fact shed tears while being spanked before. A number of times too.

"When?"

"When? Those times when I spanked you but didn't automatically reach between your legs to check how wet you are."

(But most of our spankings are fun sex spankings right?)

"So even if you start out with the intention of spank-for-sex fun and I end up getting emotional in my head and start tearing, you know?"

"Yes. I can hear you ... and your reaction is different, your body tenses up. You grip my arm, your hands clench; the way you breathe and move... I can tell.  

I suppose he should be able to by now, I mean he's been spanking me for a while now eh? 

And I don't even remember that I've cried at other spankings before. Who knew! (Oh, him apparently.) 

(Because I love unicorns right?)

It felt good. Release. Relief. Refreshed. Reconnected. Getting it all out and not having to push it down and keep it in my belly. 

He did reach down to put his finger(s) in me. I asked if I was wet. Very, was his reply. 

He instructed me to move against his fingers. I moaned as I did what he asked. He had me put Roger in my mouth. He gripped my hair to bounce MY head up and down over his 'head'. Strange thing - when he does this he's usually watching me. He didn't today. I shifted my gaze up to look at him and he had his eyes closed, head facing upwards. Pleasure. It was the look of pleasure. 

And it was his turn to moan. A pinched nipple, a forced shove to the back of my throat. Held there. I was gagging. 

I was his. Still his. Despite all that crazy that was going on inside my head. He flipped me over and entered me. And I held on to his back, my mouth searched for that special place at his neck. His mouth and tongue found my nipples - one then the other. And he came. 

If the spanking was a letting go, then what followed after was a reclamation. I felt like I belonged again. I wasn't floundering anymore - the way I had been for the last three days, trying to solve and sort on my own. 

My tummy does feel better now. Hopefully the rest of the week goes smoothly and any spankings we partake in will be of the fun kind.

Weepy Me

It was stupid. I was afraid that like so many relationships ours would die. It would sink into routine, boredom, nothingness.

I don't want to have THAT kind of relationship with BIKSS. With anyone. I hate stagnation. That's why I do what I do for work I suppose. There's always a new kid, new adventure, new struggle, new headaches, new something-that-I-didn't-expect! 

That's also why I dip my hands into so many projects. I collect for a local charity. I help my bff write for her app projects. I bake and sell cakes for fun when I have time. 

I hate stagnation. 

And last night (thank you, Period) I got all weepy again cos I was laying in bed cuddled up with BIKSS and he was sleeping. And I was upset by it.

I get that the man is tired. But given our circumstances it's not like we can just hop on down to the mall and go wandering about the supermarket just any ol' time we want and to any ol' where we want. Well, he's never said no, but I'm not one for unnecessary risk-taking either, so if there's a possibility of being seen (we live in a really small congested state so it's always easy to bump into people we know!) I'd rather not go out if there isn't a need to. 

This means we're the couple who stays home, eats in, then has sex and falls asleep till I wake him up when it's time to go home. Doesn't sound so awesome does it? I'm not saying that I need excitement all the time, or to be wined and dined or anything, but I don't want to spend our time together just having sex and then falling asleep. It's hard for him to stay up cos as far as he thinks, I have the most comfy bed this side of the equator. Which means the only way we get to engage in any meaningful discourse is if he's upright and moving about.

I fidgeted and he woke up. And I told him I was restless. And I was all red-eyed and sniffing and he climbed over me, held my face in his hands and asked me in the most tender voice ever, "What's wrong?" 

I broke down. Cried. Wailed all my thoughts out to him. And after a short car ride and lots of hand-holding, as I sank back into bed, he hugged me from behind, pulled me into the circle made by his arms, and breathed me in. 

"What if this is too much, too troublesome... my being weepy... What if you know it's because of OUR situation and decide that letting me go is the best solution. Two birds. One stone. I won't be stuck in this story, and you won't have to deal with Weepy Me." 

He doesn't think that will happen. Cos he won't do it. He's selfish that way, he says. 

In the meantime, he says we'll think about places we can go out to the first half of Friday nights so the evening doesn't stretch endlessly ahead of us with either or both of us just  falling off to sleep. 

To be honest, that's why I am so keen on us watching concerts and ballets and what not. I want to discover places together, see stuff, learn things, make memories with BIKSS. Even that little car ride was exciting, to be honest, cos we went past the back of an airport runway and he told me stories of how patrol cars used to come by and question drivers who parked there for too long. Security issues or some such thing. 

I pointed out the name of a street to him, well, I guessed. I knew it was there somewhere. We slowed down as we went past the signs, looking for it. We got lucky on the third try! 

It's just little things like that. I need to feed my brain. 

"Then we'll go out and discover food, drive around, take walks. Make memories, just you and me, ok?" 

Okay. :)

And how was this night different from any other weepy night? I don't know. I can't say. But somehow I felt that this time, every word he spoke, every move he made screamed I LOVE YOU. If I ever doubted this, well, let's say it's been put to rest.

Between Ponderings

I'm hijacking my own blog to ramble. 

I'm so in love with BIKSS I'm scared. 

I'm scared that one day all the shit is gonna hit the fan. And because he's the kind of man he is, as long as it's an option, that I'll be let go, cast away, cut off. If it means saving the family. As long as that's on the table.

Can I talk to him about this? Yes. And I have. There can be no answer to my fear. Approaching this again would do me no good. Do him no good. 

I want to know that I will always have him. That he will never NOT be. He cannot promise that. I know this. So I'm  feeling stuck again. I know. We just crossed the one year mark. Maybe that's why. I'm reminded at these junctures that WE don't have a guarantee. 

Sure, you say, no relationship is a guarantee. 

And I hear you. 

But ours is subject to more than its fair share of outside forces. You snigger. Well, *I* am the outside force aren't I?

I can only hope it doesn't come to that. That's as much of a reply as I've gotten out of him. 

It's an honest one. And I am grateful for it. 

Sometimes tho, I wish he could just tell me what I need to hear. Even if it's a lie. For if it IS a lie, and events come to pass that prove it thus, it won't matter then, for he'll be lost to me anyway. 

I write this 2 hours before the next post is scheduled. I don't know if I want anyone to read this.  If I want BIKSS to read this. I hope he will, but I don't want to burden him. 

He carries guilt and responsibility too much for one man as it is. 

I don't maintain that I am responsible for that. He had his eyes wide open when he embarked on this journey. 

As did I. What I didn't count on, was my heart following suit.

Overachiever (III)

Click here for Part One 

Click here for Part Two

or just read this as a stand-alone emo piece... it's up to you, really.

-Part Three-

(in which Fondles is emo not once, not twice, but three times - you see what BIKSS has to deal with? I feel sorry for the guy, really, I do)

I'd been feeling miserable over the last 24 hours before meeting BIKSS, mostly cos dad and mum have been here and oh, let's just say I'm not as nice as I should be to my father. 

This man who was clever and strong and had the answers to everything, who told me I could do anything and I shouldn't let people take advantage of me, this man is not who that man was. 

I'm not going to list his crimes. For they are not of his choosing. He is just being the way he is now and I was having trouble accepting this new reality. I was still holding him to the same standards he's always held us to. Logic and reason are no longer the mainstays of his consciousness, tho. And I need to remember this now. 

And because I am woman (hear me roar, no.. really, you know the song right?) and tend to collapse all my problems one on top of the other, when we were cuddling and BIKSS was half asleep (yes, I know, timing is everything!) I suddenly felt very vulnerable and just needed him to know how I felt about him. 

So you know, I said "Love me?" (yes, cos that's how I say I love you when I'm emo, it seems.)

His reply is "Uh-huh."

"You don't do intimacy very well, huh?"

"Uh-huh."

"Is there a way you would show me you love me so that I'll know that's the equivalent of your saying so? Cos I know you're not about the words..."

"Spanking."

"What???" 

"It's ALLLLLL love!"

This conversation is officially dead. And he kisses and gropes and cuddles me, only there's something festering inside me now. 

And because I am me, I won't let it rest.

So I tell him. Because I'm good at holding on like a pit bull terrier and not letting go until I'm satisfied. Which I was SO not at this point. And we finally get to the bottom of it. I wail, I whine, I weep. And he finally wakes up. Properly. He's actually sitting up with his eyes open now. I needed to know. I can't be brushed off. I won't accept a flippant answer. 

And just as he solves one problem, he creates another. 

"I'm sorry, I know that you're not the sort of person that can I can just brush off and not give a proper answer to. You're different, you don't think like most other people."

I don't know about you - but I heard that as a failing right there. I'm strange, I'm different, I need special handling and jeepers, that made me cry. 

... until he sorted me out by explaining that it wasn't a bad thing. It's the way I am and it's the me he's known for the last 24 years, and he's still around isn't he? So he pep-talked me for another half an hour and eventually I felt better. 

"I'm a bundle of trouble aren't I?"

"No, but you ARE a bundle of nerves. A lot of things on your plate huh?" 

"Yeah. Can I just throw it out and get a new one?"

So that's when we move into dealing-with-the-parents territory. 

G U I L T is a bad word. But that's how I'm feeling. That's the ONE constant feeling that I am aware of - it is all pervasive. It tempers every other feeling that tries to bubble to the surface. Guilt. Yuck.

But he lectures and shares and coaxes and soothes and comforts and convinces and eventually I think I understand where I need to go with this, what I need to do, how I need to think. Sigh. A serious mind shift is in order, me thinks.

So yes. Three episodes in the course of one night. I did say I was an overachiever... and actually, so is BIKSS.

Reminder - You Belong to Me

I was prepared not to see BIKSS for 10 days more after I got home, since it's difficult for us to meet on the weekend (his family, my work) and he'd be leaving on Sunday morning for another week. Yes, his company's sending him for two week-long courses back to back. Sigh. Poor me.

So I was ecstatic when he texted me last night and said that we could go walking... in my head I was jumping up and down and clapping my hands. Only in real life I replied that I would be delighted and then tried to remain cool and calm as I carried on with my last lesson of the day. 

After our walk he came over and as I prepared the bedroom (shutting windows, turning on the aircon) he molested me, kissing, fondling and ignoring my protests that we should shower first. 

"We should have dirty sex," he growls into my ear.

Now, ordinarily I would disagree vehemently, grab two bath towels, and possibly run away from him and into the shower. OCPD remember? But I was so grateful for his being there with me that all I did was wriggle out of his arms, ask him to check that the main door was locked, and continued getting the room ready for 'dirty sex'. That meant we'd be OVER the covers and not under it. It would have to do - that's as much compromise as my neurotic brain could handle. 

I flopped face down onto my bed and he came back into the room. Shutting the door he mused, "Ah, she's ready for me."

I giggled and was a little worried that I wasn't wet enough, since no part of me tingled with the familiar stirrings that are my usual signals of being ready. You know the ones, the heavy breathing, the twisting in the tummy, the clenching of pussy muscles. 

He placed himself over me and inspected between my legs, proclaiming with satisfaction (?) that I was indeed ready for him to fuck me. Oh my. I'm a class A slut for him, I swear. He proceeded to enter me straightaway. That got my juices flowing for sure. It was so hot being "taken" so immediately. The slapping of my ass cheeks as he fucked me didn't exactly go unnoticed either. He might have found the perfect recipe for making me a happy sub. 

---------------------------

When we were done, we lay there for a bit, and then I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to get clean, so I dragged him along with me to have a shower. Then we climbed back in UNDER the covers this time, and resumed our chatting and cuddling. 

He hinted that I would be giving him a blowjob later, but for now we would just talk and enjoy each other's company. Which was so perfect cos I had just finished massaging his leg (aching muscles) and he was being attentive to me by lightly scratching the small of my back. I LOVE THAT!

Soon we were spooning - a perfect position for him to twist and tease my nipples. I turned back to face him so we could kiss, and he asked me if I was ready. I made some positive sounding noises. 

"Are you ready for Roger? Go on down then."

I slid down and took his cock in my mouth. He grabbed my hair from time to time to control the depth of his plunging and the speed at which he fucked my face. 

"Will this help you remember you're mine for the next 10 days?"

I grunted something that I hoped would pass as a Yes.

"You know what will help you remember better? Get up. On your knees."

He got up too, and stood at the side of the bed. I was on all fours, my hands on the edge of the bed, and he continued to fuck my mouth while he held on to my hair. 

"That's it. That's my girl."

And then he spanked my bum as he fucked my mouth. 

And after he came and I released my hold on his cock to look up at him, he held my face in his hand and I basked in his approval.

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Now this place that he'll be at in the coming week? There's a girl from his past that lives there. She used to work with his company but left some time back. And some of his colleagues are acquainted with her as well. 

I felt a little insecure about this so I teasingly asked if he was going to be sleeping with random girls while he was there... Yes, a different one every night, he replied. LOL 

OK, he knew what I meant, and I knew he was trying to tell me that I had nothing to worry about. 

Only we're not THAT hot, and I'm facing down, not sideways

"I'm just being silly," I whined into his tummy (I was crouched in the space between his legs and had my arms wrapped around and under him).

"No you're not. You know that we had a history, and you're just being cautious and there's nothing silly about that. It's perfectly understandable."

He also went on to tell me the last they had any contact was a text message 4 months ago about something else not "them"-related. But that since some of the people from the office also knew her, it is possible one of the others may contact her while they're there. And if she does meet them for a coffee or catch-up, he'll let me know. 

And that I could call him on face-time if I needed to talk to him "face to face" and that he'll text me every night at the very least, or call me, or I could call him. 

All in all, I think my (currently not-so-Evil) man did a splendid job in reminding me I am his, in reassuring me, and making me feel like I will survive the coming week. 

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Oh, and I kept the tee shirt he was wearing last night, and sent him home in a fresh one. I totally intend to make a BIKSS pillow with the one he had on. Hey, if I can't have the man, I can at least have his scent for company.

Quickie Post - My World Is Right Again

I asked BIKSS if he was feeling like somehow our world was tilted a little off axis, cos I'd been feeling that way the whole day. He said yes, kinda... but he attributed that to being busy and having to run around all day. I, on the other hand, attributed it to us not REALLY having reconnected and sorted out last night's tiny bickering. 

We ARE managing to carry on as usual, however, with the regular chit chat via text that we normally do. And after I decided to order some McDelivery, BIKSS sent this text - "Make sure you wear a bra, and shorts. No panties." I informed him that I was already wearing shorts over my panties cos I KNOW he hates that I usually just walk around in a tank top and knickers. I've been making an effort these days.

And then his next message came in, "Good Girl. Wouldn't want someone else to see what belongs to me." We chatted some more before I realised that suddenly I didn't feel like my world was all askew anymore. I'm still his. No matter what happens with us. And maybe I knew it in my head, but I needed to hear him say it. I'm glad he did. I'm more certain now that when we DO catch up and sort this out we'll emerge bright and sparkling and renewed. 

I'm a happy little girl again.

*And now, back to my fries and coke!*

Embracing Brevity

There were tears run amok.

Then an unexpected visit. 

Serving to comfort yet underlining the complexity of the situation.

His gentle caress. Brushes away doubt. My hand in His. I kiss it. As is my way.

He never forgets to spank me. Never.

Will you make love to me, I say after much awkward silence. In reality He utters the words for me. The words I could not bring myself to say.

Tears are flowing again. It is dark. He cannot see. I reach up and cup His face in my hand. I love you, I say, sotto voce. He hears me though. I love you so much. This time a whisper to accompany His proof of love. 

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Secrets of the Sub Sisterhood

I'm sitting in the studio and catching up on my blog-reading cos I've been at a workshop two days in a row and didn't get much done yesterday either on account I was dealing with menial things like cleaning up the house and getting some classes in. 

I've noticed there are some common traits among the subs whose blogs I read (I'm generalising here so PLEASE don't send a virus to my account or anything like that... )

1. cock worshipping seems to be prevalent

2. spanking is important

3. pain and pleasure are intricately linked

4. we need to feel desired / wanted

5. pleasing our Doms is first on our minds

6. there is a desire/curiosity about being taken to the edge/having boundaries pushed

7. the feelings of insecurity can be very consuming and may sometimes take centre-stage

8. we want to feel their dominance ALL the time

9. kneeling / sitting at their feet seems to fill us with immense peace and comfort

10. we're terribly horny people (LOL at this one)

11. certain words make us heady (good girl / (my) slut / come / kneel )

12. disappointing our Doms is the worst punishment ever

13. taking a scolding/ punishment is way better than enduring their silence or distance

14. we're addicted to D/s

I'm sure I could think of more but this last few got me thinking about something...

The very reason I love being in a D/s relationship is also the exact reason I hate it. Because I need to feel his Dominance. I want to ask him so many questions, some I have, and he's answered, some I haven't because I haven't found the words to phrase the thoughts and feelings floating inside me. Others I feel guilty about asking because I know he's doing a wonderful job so far and my asking would only seem impatient and needy. And if I'm to be submissive to him, does that not mean accepting that he will do what he will do when he chooses to do it? 

It's so frustrating tho that I sometimes feel he doesn't get just how much I adore him, and want NOTHING MORE than to please him. And I mean that - nothing more. I don't want a million dollars, nor do I want a bevy of maids; gems and jewellery cannot compare, nor do fame and recognition. Nothing in this world would give me more satisfaction than to please him wholly. And I desire that he should ask, nay, require it of me. I want to bask in his praise and approval of all that I am, all that I do, all that I say, and all that I think. And all this, all the parts of me, I offer to him for his taking. 

Does it scare me that I've reached this point so quickly with BIKSS? Yes. Does it surprise me? Not one bit. Partly due to what and who I know myself to be, but more as a result of knowing and loving who and what HE is. 

Do I feel his hand in my life? Yes. Every moment that I continue to resolve to stay smoke-free is a testament to my commitment. Do I want to feel more?  Yes. Oh Yes. I want every waking moment to be at his service. I wish nothing more than to spend long stretches of time pleasuring him, bidding his commands, fulfilling his needs. And if he has no use for that, then I will sit at his feet and adore him. 

I ache for him. I yearn, I long, I hunger.

I offer him mastery, power and control over me. If he should desire it. 

And that is where the self-doubt and insecurities come crashing through the oasis of joy and contentment I have created in my mind's eye. If he should desire it. And what if he doesn't? 

Then I'm back to being an emotional mess. I feel undesired. I feel like a chore and a burden. Although if he were here right now I'd probably get another finger wagging with the threat of a licking on my behind. He hates that language. I can't help it though. It's a part of me. 

Which brings to mind yet another question? And in this regard I'm speaking only of my own personal equations and theories. I'm NOT saying all subs are the result of the same function:

I wonder if my insecurity and lack of self love are the roots of my need for submission. I was never allowed to be happy and ask for happiness. I was always trying to please everyone else. I was never good enough. The result of this in my vanilla life has been to prove time and time again that I AM good enough. That I am successful. That I can make it on my own. That I'm a survivor, a tough cookie. 

And pretending to be something that you're not naturally comfortable with is exhausting. What IS natural for me is crawling back into that space that I occupied as a child - that space I knew well - the one where I served and pleased and sought approval. Those are the feelings that make me happy. Proving that I don't NEED approval, for me, is by its very nature my cry for approval - to be accepted by the rest of the world as being normal, sane, regular and a functioning member of society. 

But it doesn't make me happy. It doesn't bring me pleasure. It wears me out. 

So here I am, coming to 40 and loving a man like I have loved no other. No, trusting a man as I have trusted no other. Entrusting him with the burden that is me. And loving him for accepting it. And because he is my lord, I will respect him enough to let him know when I need his hand to be firm or to be gentle, when I need his voice to soothe or to take charge and put me in my place, when I need him to be teacher, or lover, or brother, or friend.  

I Am Afraid

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I am afraid.

That you will go back to the way things were before.

That everything we have is imagined.
That it's all in my head.

I am afraid.

That you never meant to take this on.
That I'll become too much to handle.
That it won't be worth the hassle.

I am afraid.

Quality Time At Last

*Long Post Advisory - Hey, I haven't seen BIKSS in almost a week... cut me some slack!*

Last week we went through some crazy incidents. I was hoping that after the 3rd (and most major of them) the bad streak would be over. And I'm happy to announce, it is!

I had a lovely evening with BIKSS today. And aside from the lead up to today's meeting all in all it was rather easy-going and, you could say, quite vanilla. 

You see, yesterday he sent me this pic :

And of course since I hadn't seen him in almost a week I was yearning like crazy for us to tangle legs among sheets just so. And I told him that I was looking forward to it. His next instruction was that I was to send him a photo of my behind in a thong after my shower. Of course this immediately got me turned on.  He wanted THIS:

 

Which he got. In multiples. But just for the heck of it, today I sent him the same pose wearing this:

with a bonus front view shot too! The reply I got was "Oh, you're definitely wearing this get-up this afternoon. Keep it on under your robe."

Yes! Mission accomplished. I love dressing up for an appreciative audience, don't you?

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Over the next four hours we kissed a lot, and each time after one of us came he pulled me into him and cuddled me close. We would lay there and breathe in each other's scents, and talk and talk and talk.  Not all serious stuff, but some. We talked about what happened last week, about why it did, and how we didn't want it to happen again; we talked about work, and people we knew; we talked about the sex we just had, the relationship we were developing; we rambled and just let the conversation flow. 

He took a couple of work calls and I took the opportunity to go down on him and put Roger in my mouth. At one point all he was saying was "uh-huh, uh-huh"... I told him later on that if I had upped my intensity the sounds that would be coming out of his mouth would probably be more "aaaah" than "uh-huh"!

His first cum was in my mouth- after not having one since the last time he was with me, I was warned. It was massive. A full meal, even. There were also a few "firsts" today : the first time BIKSS inserted a plug into my butt; the first time he fucked me with a plug up my bottom (cum number2); the first time he took ol' Lilac (my trusty vibe) out of his own volition and proceeded to hold it at my clit so I would cum for him. AND it was the first time I squirted for him (not counting the "leak" I mentioned a while ago.)

Now it has to be said at this point that the only other person I ever squirted with never made me feel embarrassed for it or anything... but because I experienced this for the first time rather late in my sex life I think I felt abnormal at having done it. And he didn't treat the incident carefully enough so much so that it only ever happened one other time and then never again. I think I consciously stopped myself when I felt it was about to happen so as not to have to deal with the soaked sheets and wash-up and the nonchalant manner in which my then-boyfriend viewed it.

But since I was not in control of ol' Lilac today, and I had some massive finger-fucking going on in my pussy at the same time, I suspect my brain finally connected to my orgasm and got the message through that all power and control were currently RELINQUISHED so perhaps some part of my subconscious could finally let go totally. I DID still feel slightly embarrassed. Not that I knew WHY. It was just a feeling and I shared it with BIKSS cos he asked (cos I was behaving rather sheepishly I guess).  And the wonderful man went and grabbed his fone and wiki-ed it. I said I'd read up too, previously, and all the sites said it was supposed to be a couple of spoonfuls worth of fluid so mine felt wrong, somehow. Then the wonderful man went and looked up some videos of women squirting to show me what I looked like (and also to convince me that there really is quite a lot of liquid and not just the couple of spoonfuls like I'd read) - at the same time reassuring me that it wasn't pee because 1) it didn't smell like it, 2) it came in bursts of squirts, not a continuous stream, and 3) it left his hand a little sticky. *GOSH*

(I would love to hear your comments on this PLEASE... tell me more about your experiences with squirting / gushing / water flowing forth cos I'm SUCH a noob.)

So anyway after being all warm and cuddly and reassuring I thanked him by putting Roger in my mouth again. As luck would have it he had more calls to take so I left him to it while I busied myself with his cock. At some point he hung up, shut his eyes and made delicious going-to-cum sounds and then exploded again in my mouth. 

There was more talk and more cuddling, this time not so much in our usual way, with me half lying on top of his chest while he lay on his back,

but more enveloping (his word, not mine) with both of us on our sides facing each other.

He spent plenty of time touching my face, kissing me; I smooshed my lips all over his lips, his face... If you look up the translation for "kiss" in Malay you'll get a whole list of related words that involve smelling, scent and sniffing. That's basically what I do, mostly - press my nose up against his skin and take a deep inhale while planting a kiss with my lips at the same time. In my mother-tongue we call that "cium" (pronounced CHEOM).

"I'm glad that despite what happened last Friday you didn't go off and grab smokes..."

"You know why? Cos even though it sounded to both of us at one point that this was going to be over, I'd die trying when it comes to keeping my relationships going, and I still loved you, you cow, that's why."

At this point he pulls me in for the mother of all kisses, and then guides my hand down to his crotch where Roger's clearly awake. Again. Apparently because I told him I love him. *Smiles* I instinctively stroke his cock and he starts to do the thing he does with my nipples and then pulls me up into a sit, while he stands in front of me... I lean forward greedily and put Roger in my mouth again, sucking and licking, and stroking him  for all I'm worth. "I'm probably not going to be able to cum again, but man this feels damn good!"  Well, let me say, he DID manage another one. 

*I didn't include any particular mention of spanking because it was EVERYWHERE! I had my bottom smacked like never before and in every and any position he was able to reach my bum. When it began to hurt he kept going. When I said it stung he let one more land in exactly the same spot. When he asked if it was painful and I shrieked a YES he continued anyway. And at one point he landed some particular smarting smacks and said "These are for Kitty". (I told him I'd be sure to mention it...) It got to a degree that even a light tap of his fingers on my cheek brought the sting back up to the surface. Heaven.