Never say Never......

Before Christmas, my grandfather was visiting.

He is a wonderful man, as I am sure most people's grandfathers are if they are lucky enough to have them.
This hasn't been a great year for him. Earlier in the year, he lost the love of his life. My Grandmother.

Mind you, they had a  long and wonderful life together.

Gramma was 97 when she died.
Pop is 86.

I used to tease Gramma she was a cougar. I remember the first time I called her that, I had to explain it to her.
I don't really know how effective my explanation was as she then just commented to me,

 'Don't know about that, All I know is I loved him'

Even in the last few days, Gramma and Pop had photos taken together.
When Mum showed me, I can remember saying to her....

'You can see the love....How much in love they still are, even after all these years.'

Pop is still the same Pop I had before, but without the love of his life now.

He asked me before Christmas when he was visiting, when I planned on getting married again.

The old fashioned part of him refuses to accept I can do anything I like without having to have a husband to 'look after me' so to speak.
He knows I am very independent. He knows I like having my own time, doing things as I please.

I can remember thinking to myself, there is no point in saying to Pop that I would never get married again, that the marriage I had just ended, left me disillusioned about the whole idea.
I could get no communication, ordinary vanilla sex and no love from strangers...why would I want to tie myself to that??
Best I was hoping for was someone I could be with when I had no kids, who cared for me, would be happy to tie me up and spank me, fuck me silly and shove his cock down my throat. And someone who would go home to their own house and leave me to have the space I wanted without the whinging that they were being ignored mid week, or that on the weekends I had the kids, that I gave my time to the kids and not to them.

My last few blog posts have told the tale of me falling in love, starting a new journey, recently collared, always owned and other wonderful soppy romantic things.
I have touched on the kink, but my surgery has made that hard. Hard for us to work out how to have the kink we need in our lives as well as hard for me to deal with, that this is something that I am causing.

Yes Sir, you can stop growling now that it is not my fault, I get that.
I love you Sir.
But it is my body that has the restrictions placed on it.
I am the one who is limited to the things I can do.
They are both facts.
Another fact.... I KNOW you are ok with it.
But it frustrates me, as you have seen this weekend, when I was

 'begging you like a 15 year old school girl to "just put the tip in, no one will know"'

The very fact that 10 days post op, that I was tied, bound, blindfolded and made to cum, makes me smile  like a fucking idiot.
And only partly over the orgasm bit.
I also had the crop over my arse this weekend.

"Fucking Arsehole" is not an acceptable thing to call Sir, even after the torturing and teasing he was inflicting on me.

Lesson learnt. rubs arse in recollection


But the whole point of the blog post is....

Because Pop would never have understood why I was never going to even contemplate the possibility of ever getting married ever again... I told him that I would only ever think about it...

'IF I meet someone who loves me as much as you loved Gramma. IF I find someone who I think will still love me when I am 90. Then I will think about it...until then, I am fine just as I am'

You know how sometimes you say things...only to have them jump up and bite your arse.....yup, feels like this could possibly be one of those times.

Tears in His arms.....

I can be tough
I can be strong
But with you, It's not like that at all

Theres a girl who gives a shit
Behind this wall
You just walk through it

 And I remember all those crazy thing you said
You left them running through my head
You're always there, you're everywhere
But right now I wish you were here

All those crazy things we did
Didn't think about it just went with it
You're always there, you're everywhere
But right now I wish you were here

 Damn, Damn, Damn,
What I'd do to have you
Here, Here, Here
I wish you were here

Damn, Damn, Damn,
What I'd do to have you
Near, Near, Near
I wish you were here.


I love the way you are
It's who I am don't have to try hard
We always say, Say like it is
And the truth is that I really miss

All those crazy thing you said
You left them running through my head
You're always there, you're everywhere
But right now I wish you were here

All those crazy things we did
Didn't think about it just went with it
You're always there, you're everywhere
But right now I wish you were here

 Damn, Damn, Damn,
What I'd do to have you
Here, Here, Here
I wish you were here

Damn, Damn, Damn,
What I'd do to have you
Near, Near, Near
I wish you were here.

 No, I don't wanna let go
I just wanna let you know
That I never wanna let go
Let go, Oh, Oh,

No, I don't wanna let go
I just wanna let you know
That I never wanna let go
Let go, Let go, Let go...

 Damn, Damn, Damn,
What I'd do to have you
Here, Here, Here
I wish you were here

Damn, Damn, Damn,
What I'd do to have you
Near, Near, Near
I wish you were here.

I have a song for every occasion.

It gets a little harder to say Goodbye to Him every time we have to part, each of us counting down the hours til next time we will be together.

Yesterday was particularly hard for me, while we were together yesterday, Sir surprised me with a collar. Not something I was expecting at all, not even something we had discussed.

Wearing that, being in His arms, then having to take it off and say goodbye to Him within hours was hard for me. 

I cried in His arms when He put it on me.

It was totally unexpected.

For the first time in my life, I understand the fascination of wearing a wedding ring.

Being proud to wear something that symbolizes someone else's claim on you.

It is not just something that is expected to be worn, or to wear, and I think many people just wear their wedding rings because it is 'the done thing to do', I know I did in the past. It was just something I did, not something that particularly meant what it should have.

And I guess this is an admission, that I didnt fully understand what having a collar meant until now.

I KNEW in my head, but until now I had never felt it. 

It is not just something to be worn when we play, not just something that is around my neck because it is expected to be.

It is a sign of our commitment to each other, His that He loves and protects me, and mine that I belong to Him, that I love Him, respect Him, trust Him and honour Him.

And I am very proud to wear His collar. 

Thank you Sir

I sit here, reclined in a chair, relaxed but sore.

I have had my operation.

I am now without a Uterus and some other non essential bits.

I 'removed the nursery and kept the playground' so to speak.

And the whole time, Sir was there beside me.

This is a very vanilla post, and for that, my apologies, but it is what it is.

I have very little kink in my life at the moment.
I am covered in sticking plasters of varying kinds.
Some protecting stitches, others providing the nicotine rather than the cigarettes I am hoping to give the flick.

All the while... I know I have His love, and support.

Each day the pain will ease a little more, until I can walk properly, get back to being able to look after myself, until then, I sit in the chair, quietly going out of my mind with boredom, but always knowing that it will end soon enough, that if I am patient, that it will end quicker than if I am impatient and hurt myself more.

This post is my public thank you to Sir.

Thank you for being there for me.
Thank you for holding my hand, before and after the surgery.
Thank you for looking after me like I have never had before.
Thank you for my gorgeous red roses I woke up to.
Thank you for being my friend.
Thank you for being my lover.
Thank you for being my Sir.

I love you Sir.

Alone, but never lonely again....

I sit here alone.

There is no one in the house but me.

But yet, I am not lonely.

Sir is with me always.
He left a little while ago, leaving me here, marked, bruised, and very happy.

This has been a weekend of firsts for me.

The first time I have spent a weekend with someone since I became single over a year ago.
I have spent time with friends, but this is different.

We weren't more than 15 feet apart the entire weekend.
Normally, after that long in one persons company, I would be craving a little solitude, a little 'me' space, some time alone to do the things I wish to do, and yet I sit here, wishing he was beside me.

We ticked quite a few things off the 'bucket list' of things we wish to experience together.
Some D/s, some not.

I have new barbells in my nipple piercings.
Placed there by Sir.
These fit, the others were too big, now they sit flush, each side, with no space to get caught on things.

It was not quite the weekend either of us were expecting.
We both have ex partners, children and life sometimes gets in the way of best laid plans.

But even though it wasn't quite what I was expecting, in some ways, it was better than I thought.
To be able to wake up in his arms twice, to tick morning sex off the bucket list, to introduce Sir to some of my family, to meet friends of his, to laugh at things in the sex shop, to just be a 'normal' couple for a little while, was something I didn't even know how much I would enjoy.

I have blogged in the past that my ex-Master got a part of me no one else did, and I stand by that statement.
He did.
He no longer gets that part of me.

Instead, I found that there is more that I can give, things I have taken for granted, things I used to do a LONG time ago, that were never appreciated, taken for granted, are now the same little things that I can, will, and want to do again.
I was taught to appreciate my inner slut.
Now I revel in it.

Knowing I can walk around naked, all the bits of me that are pre-loved, used and worn with age are not only liked, but appreciated and loved.

I am different with Sir than I have been with others.
I cannot sit next to him and not touch him in some way, it may only be a hand on the leg, or a brush or arms, but there is a need inside me to touch.
Sitting at his feet, while having coffee with my family.....not a big deal to most, and yet to me, Fucking awesome. My family think nothing of me sitting on the floor, it is a place they find me often, and yet they cannot know how 'right' it felt for me to be there, at HIS feet.
I can do the little things, get a drink without asking, I can see by the look on his face when he needs to be touched, hugged, kissed. There is a connection there like I have never known before.
And yet when we are alone, I get to be his dirty little slut.
I do not have to be ashamed of the things I want, of the fact that I love the way he fucks me, touches me, leaves me marked.

This upcoming week will be a test for me.
I have always had to be the strong one, do things for myself, take care of things.
I am not used to being looked after, not sure when the last time was I could admit that I wasn't ok.
I have surgery this week.
Up to a week in hospital, then another full week of bed rest.
I am looking forward to being better. Not fixed completely, but better than I am now.
No more daily pain.
No more bleeding.
No more worry about having to be careful where I go, what I do, and whether or not I have a bag and the things I need with me 'just in case'

I am a lucky girl.
To be able to give everything I have always wanted to give, to someone I love, trust, respect, honour and adore, and to know that it is appreciated, and those things are returned to me......there are no words to explain how that makes me feel.

I shared my blog this morning with Sir, while we were laying in bed.
I have waited to show him, I wanted to do it in person, to explain my journey, to let him know that this is where I do my thinking, to explain why there haven't been many blog posts lately.
I knew I could do all this over the phone, or online, but I didn't want to.
Much like telling him that I had fallen in love with him, it wasn't something I wanted to drop casually into the conversation, nor something I wanted to do from a distance.
I wanted to do it while I was safe in his arms.
I inherently knew that he would understand.
The fact he has someone in his past who he loves, but is not 'in love' with means it is easier to share my journey with him. I know he will understand. And the majority of it, I had already told him in some form or another.
Sir knows about my ex-Master, knows how much I am grateful of all the things he taught me, it is because of him, that I am the way I am. How can I not appreciate that?


But this is different.

This is Love, our life together, with a dash or 5 of kink to spice it up.
We might be a long way apart in terms of distance, but this is no LDR.
We plan on having as much time together as we can, whether it be vanilla with kids, or 'just us' or kinky and out and out dirty, slutty, forbidden, glorious fun on our own.

The thing that sticks in my mind the most is...

I was married, and could sit here with my ex in the same room and I was lonely.

Now I am with Sir, and I can sit here alone, but I am never lonely.