This is an adult blog, with adult content, and it may contain detailed discussion of sexual situations and BDSM themes. Read at your own risk.
So anyone who's been reading this blog knows I am on a journey to discover my submissive self, to explore my sexual desires, limits and curiosities, and to find out how to balance all these sides of myself.
Sometimes I am more in tune with what I need, and sometimes I feel like a stranger in my own skin. And I don't always know what's going to trigger that stranger reaction.
Like this week, for example - my Dom has said that I am to follow a more healthy lifestyle, meaning, I am to incorporate a regular exercise routine and a more healthful eating style into my daily schedule. And that seems pretty simple, doesn't it? Just eat better and get some exercise. Add to that, it was a directive given to me by my Dom, so of course, as his sub, I am to do what I'm told.
And yet I have really been struggling with this. I did pretty well with my food choices for the first week or so, and then I started to slip a little - and then I was slipping a lot. I just thought, Well, I'm keeping my calories at about the right amount, so what does it matter if those calories come from potato chips, or a fast-food sandwich (hey, I skipped the fries), or a packaged meal? I rely heavily on box mixes and frozen foods - I have a regular office job, a son at home who needs to be picked up after school a couple times a week, and three dogs. I don't have time to spend hours cooking every night - nor do I have to energy or the desire, frankly. I'm not someone who loves to cook or finds it relaxing or whatever. No. I want to come home, throw something together, eat and be done with it.
Part of my new task-to-become-habit includes keeping a daily food journal, online, so that Master can access it whenever he wishes to check on my compliance. (That was an experience in itself, as I'm not really tech-minded and it took me a while to get that diary uploaded correctly.) However, once he reviewed it, he was not happy.
Here's where the "I don't know my trigger" part comes in. He wasn't horrible to me or anything, just really blunt and stern, but I felt smaller and smaller and less and less valued as he took me to task, until I became frustrated and kinda talked back to him. Umm, that's not a good idea, really, but once I opened my mouth this torrent of frustration and stubbornness and feelings of being overwhelmed came pouring out. And once I admitted to feeling so out of control (an odd thing for a sub, maybe, but there it is) then I started feeling uncertain about my own worth - like, if I give up control of even the basic things like food choices, doesn't that make me helpless and incapable of caring for myself? What kind of illness in me can't even make good food choices? I'm intelligent; I know an apple is better than chips, that simple foods cooked at home are better than fast food. I KNOW this; but I wasn't acting on it.
And don't even get me started on exercise! I hate it, hate it, hate it. I've done the gym thing three times, in three different cities, and each time I'm just miserable, so I stop going. And I was fighting Master about that, too. Good Lord, I flat-out told him I would not be a good candidate for this, and that I'll most likely fail. He was less than thrilled with me, to be sure.
So where did all of this stubbornness come from?? Why was I choosing to fight about this, which really is such a simple thing to do for Master? It's not like he was asking me to do anything which could hurt me; on the contrary, by following his guidance I would experience an improvement in my overall well-being. So why?
And then I figured out that by accepting Master's word in this, by giving him control of such simple tasks as what I eat and how I exercise, I am more completely surrendering my own will to him, placing myself even more fully under his care and control, taking another clear step along the path toward more total submission. And THEN I realized that I do this almost every time he asks me to give up more of myself to him (and that that is why I get flustered; I still struggle with the "what becomes of ME when I have completely surrendered?" question).
So then, as I always do, I need to step back and take a couple days to process things and work through my issues, and then I can put aside the doubts and the fears and continue on. And that's what has happened this week, also; I needed a bit of time to come to terms with what it means for me, and then I am able to move forward and be content. I'm back on track with my food, and while I'm not loving the idea of exercise sessions, I'm not whining about them anymore, either. I think I will be able to fulfill Master's commands, now, and benefit from the improvement in my physical health.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Friday, February 7, 2014
Snow Day
Sir has tasked me with creating a series of stories/scenarios about sexual situations. Some will be drawn from past events, some will be things i'd like to have happen, and some will be pure fiction, spun from my imagination and best left there. LOL.
I woke this morning to find 6 inches of fresh snow covering the world outside. I stood at the sliding glass door and just marveled at the clean, pure freshness of it, the cold seeping in the sides of the door and freezing my bare feet. I shivered, and turned to pour myself some coffee. Mmmm. The heat was perfect on this chilly morning.
Fortified by my steaming cup of java, I pulled on some warm fleecy sweats, stuffed my sock-clad feet into boots, wound a scarf around my neck and pulled on my jacket and gloves. I grabbed the shovel from the front porch and began the task of clearing away the accumulated snow from the porch steps, sidewalk, and up the driveway. The work quickly fell into a rhythm .... bend, scoop, throw as I straighten, repeat. Endlessly. I felt my arms, shoulders and back grow tired, and then begin aching. My nose started running, so I stripped off my gloves and retrieved a tissue from my coat pocket. This is one of my big complaints about cold weather - my nose always, always runs.
Eventually (45 minutes later) I called my shoveling job "good enough" and trudged back to the house. I was cold, and tired, and sniffling, and I just wanted to get warm, please. I propped the shovel against the house and pushed the front door open. After spending that time outside, the heat of the house seemed almost stifling, but I was happy to have it. I draped my coat on the door knob, shucked my boots and dropped my damp gloves and scarf on the floor register to dry.
The coffee pot was still hot, so I poured another cup and sipped it carefully. The heat from the cup seeped into my frozen fingers but it didn't seem to be enough; I was still shivering, and couldn't seem to get warm enough. There was nothing to do but run a hot bath and soak for a while. What a shame.
I set my coffee cup on the kitchen counter and went off to the bedroom. I stepped into the attached bathroom and turned on the water to the tub before stripping out of my snow- and sweat-dampened clothes, dropping them in a heap on the floor. I poured some baby oil into the water - Lord knows my winter skin can use the moisture boost - and pulled my hair up into a ponytail as I waited for the tub to finish filling.
I stepped carefully into the tub - ooh, that water was hot! I sank down into the water, which reddened my skin almost immediately. I propped my feet on the end of the tub to lift them out of the water for a while, as the temp was too hot for comfort. Then I leaned back against the wall of the tub, sliding down so that the water just covered my shoulders. I had to bend my knees, but that was OK. I laid my head back against the tub wall and closed my eyes, relaxing into the oiled water and allowing my aching muscles to soak in the heat. Mmmm.
I'm not sure how long I stayed like that, but it was long enough that I nearly dozed off and the water cooled significantly. And then a whole different set of muscles began to protest at being held in the same position for too long. I groaned as I sat up and straightened out my legs, and as the cool air of the bathroom hit my water-heated skin, I shivered. Reflexively, I rubbed my arms to warm them again and my hands skidded over my oil-slicked skin. It was slippery, and soft, and warm, and it felt kind of good, actually, so I did it again, more slowly and firmly. Yes, that definitely felt nice.
I dropped my hands to the tops of my thighs and slowly stroked my palms down my legs, feeling the way the oil-slicked skin just flowed under my fingers, and the way the still-warm water lapped against my body. That was very nice, indeed. I closed my eyes again and massaged my legs, stretching and bending and reaching all the way down to my ankles, then retracing the path back up my legs. I splayed my fingers open and shivered as my fingertips grazed the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs. I opened my eyes and watched the path of my fingers as I teased my skin once more, and I shivered harder this second time.
Now I began to feel a tingling which had very little to do with cold flesh rewarming. I slid down into the water a bit further, bending my knees and parting my thighs so that they pressed against the side of the tub. I smoothed my hands along my body, circling from my knees and up along my outer thighs, skimming up over my ribs, across my chest and directly over my nipples, down over my stomach and along my inner thighs to my knees again. By the third slow pass, my nipples had stiffened, and on the fourth pass, as my fingertips grazed the taut peaks, a spear of desire shot through me and my back arched against the tub wall. Ooh, that was quite nice, indeed.
I tipped my head back to rest on the tub wall, closing my eyes once again, and allowed my right hand to drift lazily down my body to nestle between my legs. My skin was so soft, and slick, and slippery, and the sensations I experienced as I rubbed my finger over my clit caused sparks to flicker behind my closed eyelids. I released a soft moan and began rubbing myself a little bit faster, a little bit more firmly, and I felt a rush of desire building low in my belly, increasing as I increased the tempo and pressure.
Despite my somewhat awkward position, my hips started rocking a little, which caused the water in the tub to slosh back and forth and settle into waves which licked across my body, creating a sensation similar to the way my hands felt as they stroked my skin. I had not expected the frankly sensual way the water seemed to caress me, sending waves of warmth over my body, but it was delicious all the same. My heart rate increased and my breathing sped up as I stroked myself, and I brought my other hand up to play with my breast, teasing the taut nipple and squeezing the ample soft flesh. I tossed my head to the side and sighed, deeply, surrendering to the feelings coursing through my body, allowing my thoughts to float away and focus simply on the physical sensations.
It wasn't much longer until I felt the first stirrings of impending orgasm, the fluttering in my stomach, the raspiness of my breathing, the way my heart beat in my chest. My arm was beginning to tire, but I kept up the rhythm of pressure and motion against my clit, and pressed my back a bit more firmly against the tub. Then I felt a tiny shudder under my fingers, my inner walls contracting just a little, not a real climax, exactly, but a precursor, a tiny taste of what was to come if I just kept going and had just a little bit more patience.
I bore down even more strongly with my fingers, coaxing more sensation against my swollen nub, and at the same moment I twisted my nipple sharply. That sharp sting made me cry out and arch my back sharply, and that was the end - my orgasm took me then, drawing my muscles tight in response to the explosion I felt consuming me from my belly and flowing out through my body and all through my limbs. I was aware of my voice keening, but I could not stop it; I was powerless to do anything at all other than pant and shudder and ride it out.
Once the wave had passed, I realized that the water in the tub had become tepid, and I was shivering now due to feeling chilled. I pulled myself out of the tub, stepping carefully to avoid slipping, and quickly toweled off. My legs were shaky, my arms felt heavy, and as soon as I was dry, I wandered to the bedroom and pulled on a soft cotton camisole and panties. I curled up on my bed and pulled the quilt over me; and I felt myself warming up, relaxing, almost melting into the bed, feeling my body grow heavy as the exhaustion from the shoveling and the intensity of my climax took their toll. I know I dozed off, because I came back to consciousness a couple hours later, still sleepy, but not so weary. I padded out to the kitchen to see about a late lunch, feeling satisfied and peaceful and content.
I woke this morning to find 6 inches of fresh snow covering the world outside. I stood at the sliding glass door and just marveled at the clean, pure freshness of it, the cold seeping in the sides of the door and freezing my bare feet. I shivered, and turned to pour myself some coffee. Mmmm. The heat was perfect on this chilly morning.
Fortified by my steaming cup of java, I pulled on some warm fleecy sweats, stuffed my sock-clad feet into boots, wound a scarf around my neck and pulled on my jacket and gloves. I grabbed the shovel from the front porch and began the task of clearing away the accumulated snow from the porch steps, sidewalk, and up the driveway. The work quickly fell into a rhythm .... bend, scoop, throw as I straighten, repeat. Endlessly. I felt my arms, shoulders and back grow tired, and then begin aching. My nose started running, so I stripped off my gloves and retrieved a tissue from my coat pocket. This is one of my big complaints about cold weather - my nose always, always runs.
Eventually (45 minutes later) I called my shoveling job "good enough" and trudged back to the house. I was cold, and tired, and sniffling, and I just wanted to get warm, please. I propped the shovel against the house and pushed the front door open. After spending that time outside, the heat of the house seemed almost stifling, but I was happy to have it. I draped my coat on the door knob, shucked my boots and dropped my damp gloves and scarf on the floor register to dry.
The coffee pot was still hot, so I poured another cup and sipped it carefully. The heat from the cup seeped into my frozen fingers but it didn't seem to be enough; I was still shivering, and couldn't seem to get warm enough. There was nothing to do but run a hot bath and soak for a while. What a shame.
I set my coffee cup on the kitchen counter and went off to the bedroom. I stepped into the attached bathroom and turned on the water to the tub before stripping out of my snow- and sweat-dampened clothes, dropping them in a heap on the floor. I poured some baby oil into the water - Lord knows my winter skin can use the moisture boost - and pulled my hair up into a ponytail as I waited for the tub to finish filling.
I stepped carefully into the tub - ooh, that water was hot! I sank down into the water, which reddened my skin almost immediately. I propped my feet on the end of the tub to lift them out of the water for a while, as the temp was too hot for comfort. Then I leaned back against the wall of the tub, sliding down so that the water just covered my shoulders. I had to bend my knees, but that was OK. I laid my head back against the tub wall and closed my eyes, relaxing into the oiled water and allowing my aching muscles to soak in the heat. Mmmm.
I'm not sure how long I stayed like that, but it was long enough that I nearly dozed off and the water cooled significantly. And then a whole different set of muscles began to protest at being held in the same position for too long. I groaned as I sat up and straightened out my legs, and as the cool air of the bathroom hit my water-heated skin, I shivered. Reflexively, I rubbed my arms to warm them again and my hands skidded over my oil-slicked skin. It was slippery, and soft, and warm, and it felt kind of good, actually, so I did it again, more slowly and firmly. Yes, that definitely felt nice.
I dropped my hands to the tops of my thighs and slowly stroked my palms down my legs, feeling the way the oil-slicked skin just flowed under my fingers, and the way the still-warm water lapped against my body. That was very nice, indeed. I closed my eyes again and massaged my legs, stretching and bending and reaching all the way down to my ankles, then retracing the path back up my legs. I splayed my fingers open and shivered as my fingertips grazed the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs. I opened my eyes and watched the path of my fingers as I teased my skin once more, and I shivered harder this second time.
Now I began to feel a tingling which had very little to do with cold flesh rewarming. I slid down into the water a bit further, bending my knees and parting my thighs so that they pressed against the side of the tub. I smoothed my hands along my body, circling from my knees and up along my outer thighs, skimming up over my ribs, across my chest and directly over my nipples, down over my stomach and along my inner thighs to my knees again. By the third slow pass, my nipples had stiffened, and on the fourth pass, as my fingertips grazed the taut peaks, a spear of desire shot through me and my back arched against the tub wall. Ooh, that was quite nice, indeed.
I tipped my head back to rest on the tub wall, closing my eyes once again, and allowed my right hand to drift lazily down my body to nestle between my legs. My skin was so soft, and slick, and slippery, and the sensations I experienced as I rubbed my finger over my clit caused sparks to flicker behind my closed eyelids. I released a soft moan and began rubbing myself a little bit faster, a little bit more firmly, and I felt a rush of desire building low in my belly, increasing as I increased the tempo and pressure.
Despite my somewhat awkward position, my hips started rocking a little, which caused the water in the tub to slosh back and forth and settle into waves which licked across my body, creating a sensation similar to the way my hands felt as they stroked my skin. I had not expected the frankly sensual way the water seemed to caress me, sending waves of warmth over my body, but it was delicious all the same. My heart rate increased and my breathing sped up as I stroked myself, and I brought my other hand up to play with my breast, teasing the taut nipple and squeezing the ample soft flesh. I tossed my head to the side and sighed, deeply, surrendering to the feelings coursing through my body, allowing my thoughts to float away and focus simply on the physical sensations.
It wasn't much longer until I felt the first stirrings of impending orgasm, the fluttering in my stomach, the raspiness of my breathing, the way my heart beat in my chest. My arm was beginning to tire, but I kept up the rhythm of pressure and motion against my clit, and pressed my back a bit more firmly against the tub. Then I felt a tiny shudder under my fingers, my inner walls contracting just a little, not a real climax, exactly, but a precursor, a tiny taste of what was to come if I just kept going and had just a little bit more patience.
I bore down even more strongly with my fingers, coaxing more sensation against my swollen nub, and at the same moment I twisted my nipple sharply. That sharp sting made me cry out and arch my back sharply, and that was the end - my orgasm took me then, drawing my muscles tight in response to the explosion I felt consuming me from my belly and flowing out through my body and all through my limbs. I was aware of my voice keening, but I could not stop it; I was powerless to do anything at all other than pant and shudder and ride it out.
Once the wave had passed, I realized that the water in the tub had become tepid, and I was shivering now due to feeling chilled. I pulled myself out of the tub, stepping carefully to avoid slipping, and quickly toweled off. My legs were shaky, my arms felt heavy, and as soon as I was dry, I wandered to the bedroom and pulled on a soft cotton camisole and panties. I curled up on my bed and pulled the quilt over me; and I felt myself warming up, relaxing, almost melting into the bed, feeling my body grow heavy as the exhaustion from the shoveling and the intensity of my climax took their toll. I know I dozed off, because I came back to consciousness a couple hours later, still sleepy, but not so weary. I padded out to the kitchen to see about a late lunch, feeling satisfied and peaceful and content.
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