Kneeling for Sir...

Sir and I found out earlier today that we get most of the weekend together with no kids.
School holidays start for us this Friday, and my kids are gone for a week with their father, so for once.. I do not have to rush home before our weekend is over.


Chatting earlier tonight, Sir called me a smart arse, then proceeded to tell me my arse will smart over the weekend.


Part of me sighed with relief that we will get some play time... part of me then knew I needed to explain to Sir what was going on in my head, so He can make the decisions with all the facts.


Sometimes I feel like it is easier to write things down as if I am telling a stranger, rather than tell Him direct...a little like letting Him peek inside my mind without me feeling like I am topping from the bottom.


His response to the thought of peeking inside my head 


"I  try but sometimes I need a miners lamp, a machete and a big bottle of holy water"


I am going to make the assumption He was being smart and not serious. I like to think I am a fairly simple kinda gal, straight forward and blunt, without the neurosis some women have.


Either way... He is qualified to dip around in there and the machete and holy water are only optional navigation aides.


I am absolutely looking forward to some serious play time...it feels like it has been forever. (I do know it hasn't really been thaaaat long)


But you know what??? 


More than anything I am craving a mental fuck.
I want Him inside my head, teasing and tormenting me with words, pushing me to the edge, making me a quivering, sobbing mess of emotional woman on her knees.


I may or may not also want a light touch of a flogger or two, maybe the crop if I get warmed up first, possibly some hitachi torture.... I really don't know what it is I want, and it matters little anyway, what happens will not be my choice, BUT, It is not the physical pain I am craving.


It is the mental feeling of being put in my place.


On my knees.


His property, to play with as He pleases.


At at the end of the play.. I can relish the feeling of being 'spent' and know it pleases Him to see me like that.

Another communication fuckup..

I am guilty of the crime of keeping things to myself.

Is it wrong that I am hoping for a little home brand incarceration??
Ropes, handcuffs...maybe a blindfold or something??

I have failed in the one thing I actually thought I had managed to get my head around.

Communication.

I posted a couple of weeks ago that Sir and I needed some more communication.
That was when I was imagining Him lying serenely in bed, recuperating from surgery.
A car accident prior, a collapsed lung, my frantic travelling made any sort of serious communication about D/s a secondary issue for me. And I am guessing it was the last thing Sir was thinking about as well.

We have just had a weekend alone for the first time in over a month.
Bliss....pure bliss.
No cooking.
No cleaning.
A day out on the new motorcycle.
And some serious vegging out on the couch.

It wasn't until Sir had gone home and left me all sulky on the couch that I realised I had missed my best opportunity for that serious discussion.

He called me on it last night.
It started from a discussion about the stress levels we have dealt with lately.
I remarked to Sir that he should probably be grateful I wasn't there with Him, and the reason for that is I was skirting that fine line between danger and absolute brattiness.
I called Sir a fucking asshole once, and was punished with a crop.
Last night I was in the same mood.

After our chat, Sir tasked me with a writing assignment.
To explain to Him more about the mental side of my submission.

It took me most of the day to come up with something I was happy with.
I am still not convinced I explained the side of it that Sir wanted to know, but I did try.

I am guessing my writing is the tip of the iceberg on this issue.
And that we will be discussing it further when we get time in person.

But I did learn something today...that even when I do not realise it, that I hide things, keep things to myself. That a small part of me is still scared about giving Him the things I have never given anyone before.....all of my emotions, access to the inner me, the whole part of me I had never given anyone access to before.

I need to learn to communicate better.

To love Him more than I knew...

There has to be nothing harder for a Dom than to be not at full strength at all times.

It is life and common sense to know that not everyone can be on the ball at all times, that there are times when things get on top of us, where we need others strength, but for a Dom, this must be especially hard to fathom at times.

This week has been a busy one for Sir and I.

An accident on Friday wrote off His car thanks to an inattentive truck driver and some particularly nasty wet weather.
The weekend was busy with Sir at my place in a borrowed car, 5 visitors and my kids, so 9 people in total in a not so big 3 bedroom house, but the kids thought sleeping in the living room was great fun.

Sunday night had me travelling the 2 hours back to Sir's house, as I wanted to be able to take Him to the hospital at 7am on the Monday for removal of the gallbladder.

For me, this meant organising time off work, care of my kids, making sure I was prepared for the return home, making sure Sir's house was ready for His return home, packing and a whole lot more stress than I admitted to at the time.

Monday saw us at the hospital, I knew Sir was booked in for an overnight stay, but what I wasn't prepared for was for Him to come out of surgery looking as He did. Oxygen through a mask, and that look of someone who has been under anaesthetic was one thing, but He looked much worse than I had expected. This is where I admit to crying in the carpark where He couldn't see me.
And probably not so much because I was upset at how He looked, but the self realisation of How much He means, to me hit me harder than I expected.
I stayed 13 hours, sewing, reading, and watching over Him as best I could, all the while feeling as useless as tits on a bull.
Tuesday was emotionally horrid for me.
I walked into that room 12 hours after I had left, and found Him looking worse than the night before.
Morphine given to Him for the pain had left Him unable to take a deep breath, which in turn caused a lung to collapse during the night. The bile in His gallbladder had leaked into abdomen during surgery, which had caused a fever, and those two combined left Him looking like death warmed up if you will pardon the expression.

By days end He had improved 200%, but another overnight stay was happening.
I had planned my time under the assumption that I would be leaving Him to head back home safely tucked up in His own bed, not at the hospital for yet another night.

The drive home was one full of contemplation, thoughts and music to keep me awake.

After my marriage broke up, I swore that I would never do it again, that I had no need for someone in my life that mattered so much. I was determined that I would give my kids 5 years of my undivided attention, that I would find someone who was ok with just the occasional weekend together, maybe dinner occasionally during the week. Yes, I wanted the kink, the raging hot sex, the feeling of submission, but never did I think that I would fall in love.
These reasons are probably why I submitted to my ex-Dom, he made it clear to me that happy ever after was not on the cards, and nor was it something I wanted. What we had together worked for the time we were together.

When I met Sir, I also did the whole "never getting married, just want some fun every second weekend, my kids come first, don't want to fall in love stuff" with Him.
That lasted all of about 2 weeks before I fell in love.
My kids always come first, as do His, but kids are different. They are reliant on us for almost everything, we are expected to be there no matter what, and both Sir and I are determined that it will be that way for our kids.
But together, that is different.
He is my world, my everything and He owns me heart, body and soul.

Seeing Him not at full strength was not a shock, it was something I expected to happen. Who can have major surgery and be back to normal in an instant?? No mere mortal, that is for sure.
But to see Him looking so ill, irrational thoughts went through my head. Thoughts like I haven't had the forever you promised, that we have too many things left to do together, and while I knew He was in no immediate danger of actually kicking the bucket, it showed me how much He really does mean to me.
It also showed me that I don't always need Him to be the strong one, that I am quite capable of being the strong one when it needs to be like that, but that me stepping up and showing my strength doesn't make me any less submissive, it makes me a normal woman who loves and protects my man, whether He be a Dom or just a nilla man.

But it makes me love Him more to know that He can be honest enough with me to let Him see Him not at full strength, not at His strongest and not the Dom I know most of the time.
Having said that.... it won't be long before He is back at His wicked, evil best, torturing me with all sorts of weird and wonderful things.

I love you Sir, with all I have.