Position Training PT 1

Usually starts with a foot.  Mind you there is almost always a wiggle to the hips in the beginning. Easily mistaken for a flirtatious gesture or just a slight case of nerves, but anyone who has been there can tell what is coming.  Usually after the foot, there is a more obvious significant jerk in the hips, away from the side getting the most attention.  The illusion is that if you shift enough you can avoid the really intense pain.  Truth be told it accomplishes nothing but irritating the man holding the implement, not a smart choice in my opinion.  Particularly intense shots or rapid repetition will produce becoming completely upright, eventually, the feet will try to completely block the ass, and eventually, the hands come back.  The last thing to go is always the knees. It is amazing how knees spontaneously bend at such critical junctures. We are a fairly predictable lot but no matter how it happens it always means the same thing.  Attitude.  Bad attitude. 

Most subs have no conscious intention of being bratty while they are spanked.  We don't USUALLY  have any rebellion at heart, but the part of your brain that thinks that pain sucks and is to be avoided has memorized avoidance techniques, and the part of you that just cannot stop being a brat shows up at all the worst possible times (those two things are weeks of blogs all by themselves.)  Intentional or not the only way to cure a bad attitude is to replace it with a productive appropriate attitude.  What any sub needs is training.

Whether they admit it or not every sub both craves and needs training.  We rebel out of instinct, it is as much a part of us as breathing and kneeling.  We simply do not function without it.  There are as many ways to effectively train subs as there are subs, but a few things remain constant.  It takes time, sorry just no way around that one.  Consistency, compassion, communication, and a heavy heavy dose of viscous are all absolutely essential.  Did I mention time?  Get comfortable, training takes time.

For me specifically physical discipline works best.  Seriously the best.  I mean like a million times better than anything else.  I am also a sub who needs extra communication, and a great deal extra viciousness.  Spare the rod, ruin the rose (I really hate using that reference but sugar-coating the truth gets you nowhere).  So my position training might go something like this...

It's a Love Story

 I have an amazing man.  We have an amazing relationship, a journey of wonder, adventure and tons of debauchery!! There are intensely confusing and painful times.  There are intensely passionate and loving times.  I would have it no other way.  I firmly believe that you cannot love or grow, as a person or a couple, without pain and conflict.  He challenges and loves me in a way that I can understand and accept.  It truly does not get better in this life.

We are trying to craft a life and a lifestyle.  After all if you are going to spend this much time doing something you should do it with style.  Our style is part his kink, part my kink, part BDSM, and part whatever the fuck life throws at us next.  It is never easy but it is never boring.  Ain't nobody got time for boring! ;) 

Lately our life has been mostly the stuff that life is throwing at us.  That is fair, we have certainly had more than our share of just pure pleasure.  Life has made it hard to find time or energy. That has left me some time to think about what I am really craving for our life and how I communicate or fail to communicate.  Everyone communicate things in terms of what it means to them, but I do that to the ultimate extreme sometimes.  So now I would like to put some of my things in terms of what I think Fox might get out of them.

I have a serious interest in pain.  In this context particularly impact play. Spanking, whipping, beating, belting, strapping, paddling, caning. I could go on and on and on... I all the tones of impact you can imagine.  Sexual pleasure, pushing my tolerance, indulging my masochism, purging emotions, evening attitude, love of leather, indulging my violent side, punishment, correction, revenge, evenning the score, paying for the behaviors that I choose, attention grabbing.  All of it equally depending on where I am at that moment.  I talk endlessly about how I feel about all this and what I need.  Our biggest struggle has been punishment, holding me to certain standards, paying for bad behavior, and as a stop gap for a situation getting out of hand.  The problems center around my struggle with being ashamed of my need and my desperate need to have these things regularly.  Then there is his struggle with the time and effort required as well as his fear that all this control allows me too, and forces me to not make my own adult choices.  Something new occured to me today.  Something that might address these things in a very productive way.

With a little effort and time put in at the beginning and us both having a willingnes to be all in we may eliminate the struggle at the end.  Pain, anger, and resentment won't have to build up and erupt because they are all addressed in a productive way and vented.  This is the part I just realized.  The way I see it he can relish and enjoy taking my attitude and purposeful misbehavior out on my ass in a fabulously violent way.  I end in peace and joy but so can he.  He can fully embrace this form of violence and never have to feel bad or struggle with it.

Telling me he is going to tear my ass up.  Describing in detail all the violent things he wants to do.  Feeling the power and thrill of letting all that frustration and anger flow through an implement.  Watching my ass redden, purple, bruise, and bleed.  Seeing me involuntarily wince with the pain in my ass and thighs for days.  Knowing that I am thinking of him and how I can be better for him, me and us because I can feel the consequences of not doing that.  Planning implements, positions, new adventurous way to hurt me.  Relishing the evil feeling of looking forward to truly hurting me.  Even the sadistic joy of me moaning and fighting as the pain increases.  This is one of the very few times that the universe is handing him a totally acceptable and even desireable and demanded way of embracing his violent and sadistic side.  If he finds some kind of appeal in this then I think we could evolve to a whole new level of fabulous.

Reading it in print terrifies and thrills me so there must be truth and fabulous to it!

Rose;)

Nope...Not That Word...I wouldn't say THAT word

 The second it left my mouth I regretted it.  I desperately wished I could take it back, and then I felt him standing behind me and my stomach sank all the way to my feet.  He didn't make any sudden movements or sound angry or even speak above a whisper.  Just gently told me to get my gag and my leather belt and go wait for him at the abandoned house.   Then he turned me around looked in my eyes, gently kissed me and told me he loved me. 

My knees and hands shook visibly and I felt vaguely nauseaus but I did as I was told.  I had literally asked for this.  My stupid ass had gone to him and directly asked him to help me to never say that word at the lodge again.  Famous last words, it seemed like a good idea at the time.  Those beautiful girls were absolutely worth what I was about to go through.  They better grow up to save the (not going to use that word) world.  

It was a much shorter wait than I anticipated, or more likely, than I hoped.  As he approached I stood and faced him.  I had already taken off my belt and I handed it to him with a shaky hand.  This was not going to be fun.  He put my gag in, took down my jeans and kissed my forhead.  Reminding me one more time how much he loved me, he bade me to hold on tight.  I found myself bent over and held firmly in his grasp so I couldn't get away.  

He took that leather belt to my ass harder and faster than ever before and repeated over and over again, as he whipped me visciously, "You will never say that word in the lodge again!"  I begged, apologized, screamed, cried and tried to pry my body out of his hold.  It felt like he was stripping the skin from my ass.  I found out later that he literally was stripping layers of my skin off with that leather.  

It was only about five minutes but I literally thought I was going to die he beat me so hard.  He had stopped but hadn't let me go or stood me up.  I did not have the presence of mind to wonder why.  Probably a good thing I did not know what was coming, because it was about to get worse.  I would not have thought it possible. 

He told me in a quiet, calm voice that he took this very seriously and he was going to make sure it didn't happen again.  I was informed that there was a serious paddle in my future that night, which nearly stopped my heart, but for now he was going to whip the back of my thighs as emphasis that I was never to say that word in the lodge again. He was as good as his words.  I didn't know that it was possible to feel that much pain and not pass out.  That leather whipped my thighs so hard for that minute or two that my memory is even blurry with pain.  It was mercifully short, but he had to literally hold me up on my feet for a few minutes afterwards while I remembered how to breath. He kissed my forehead and asked me earnestly to never do something that made it necessary for him to do that again.  Reminding me not to come to the lodge until I was composed he made sure I knew that he could and would make it worse if it happened again.

I have had an insane amount of bad habits.  I suck at giving up those habits.  I have still never been able to quit smoking and occasionally I find myself chewing my nails.  I promise you with everything that I am that I will never say Fuck in that lodge again.  I may never even be able to utter the word outloud again.  I have never been in that kind of pain, and it lasted for weeks.  I have also never been this grateful.  I know it cost him to whip me like that, and then cost him even more to paddle me that night.  The paddling wasn't as severe but paddle me he did, and not lightly.  I have the best man in the world.  His love for me and those little girls allowed him to give me the help I needed in a way that I could understand and remember.

Thank you for being just fabulous you baby!!!!

Rose;)

Homemade...Sorta

 I have a friend that is an amazing cook.  Everything she has ever made me has been next level.  I asked her once if she had any tips for me. I will never forget her reaction.  She smiled real broad and winked and told me that you don't have to reinvent the wheel, you just have to season it better than everyone else.  Turns out she used a ton of premade ingredients in everythihg that she made.  The secret was the things she added to make it her own.  In the spirit of one of the sexy women I have ever known a piece of spanking fiction for you.  Some of it plucked premade from life and some is my own special seasoning and 100% homemade.  Enjoy!;)

She rolled her eyes as he called her name from across the parking lot.  She had not idea why but she had been pouting and acting like an asshole every time he called her name for days.  She just couldn't seem to get past it.

He saw her over exaggerated shoulder role and the way she dragged her feet as she came closer.  As she got close she actually rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.  He almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous she looked but he was truly far from amused and this attitude had to stop and it had to stop now.  He took a calming breath and took her elbow.  Gently but firmly he led her back to the camper that she started at.  

She was dragging her feet and she knew she should stop this crap but couldn't seem to find the off switch.  She seemed to always be irritated with everything these days.  What was even worsee was she could feel it getting worse.  She knew he had to be totally fed up, but it was only in breif moments of clarity that she knew any of this.  Mostly she just felt pissed of and justified to be so, and she was acting like an asshole. 

He knew they needed to talk.  He had to find out what was really bothering her.  She wasn't acting this way because she was genuinly annoyed with everything he was doing and saying.  He knew something was eating at her heart.  There was only one way to get through to her when she was this far gone into her head.  He had let this go on way to long and this spanking was going to be long and severe, but what she was about to get was just going to get her attention and let her know what would be coming tonight when he would have the time and privacy to give her the severe beating she needed, and whether she would admit it or not at the moment, what she wanted.

It started to occur to her that she may have gone to far as he led her into the camper.  He didn't look angry just serious and stern.  Not good news for her.  She had known a spanking was coming, and if she was honest had been hoping, for days now.  She was so grateful to have this man.  It was not easy to be the man to discipline and love a woman like her.  She spoke a complicated love language and he was fluent in delivering it to all the parts of her that needed.  Right now he was going to deliver the message to her ass, and it was going to hurt a lot!!!  She was releived, grateful, and so in love with this man.  She was also absolutely terrified by the thought of the pain that was coming.

He stood her in front of the couch and bent her at the waste, pointing to the couch where she should place her hand.  In one move he had a large, heavy, mango wood paddle off the wall and had his left arm around her waist pulling her hip tight against his so she could not get away from him.  He smacked her bare ass hard and fast with the paddle.  Each swing a little harder, the pace never letting up.  He knew that leniency at this point would make this whole exercise a complete waste and he was done putting up with her crap and shee was going to here that.

It wasn't long but it was hard and fast and she was crying and fighting against him by the third or fourth swing.  Part of her was so grateful that he didn't stop, but she couldn't help her instictive reaction to pull, squirm, and yell.  She couldn't just fall into the catharsis.  She was still just too unreasonably angry. She knew this short session was not going to come close to cleansing her or correcting her so she set her teeth hid behind her angry.

He stood her up and knew he had not even scratched the surface of the thing she was struggling with, but he had her attention and she had better control.  Satisfied that he had accomplished what he had time to do immediately he held her, told her he loved her so much, and gave her instructions for the real beating that was coming that night.  He had a plan, and he knew it was going to do them both so much good.  He looked forward to getting both of them past this miserable place they were in.

That night she found herself in a long rain coat bent over a giant fallen tree. There was a thick rubber pad and a soft comfy blanket underneath her and a loos gag in her mouth.  He ankle were tied to her wrist so she could move around, or more importantly, she could choose to present hWer ass and thighs to him. What was coming was terrifying and it was going to be beyond intense and painful, but she could not have been more grateful that it was coming.  She knew she would be clear and fabulous after this was over.  She wouldn't have to worry about him being angry or annoyed anymore.  As she her the sound of a cane cutting the air behind her she took a deep breath and remembered who she was and how much she loved her life and this man.

This was not short.  He beat her with eight different implements in multiple sets each.  There were a few times he went light to let her breath, but mostly he beat her hard.  He knew erasing her pain and anger, and erasing his frustration and anger required that he not hold back. Nobody benefitted if he went soft.  It had taken quite a journey to get to this healthy place in his head where he could beat her like this, but he no longer had a single doubt about what he was doing.  Starting with the welts he raised on her ass and thigh with his thin wicked cane, through the hard wooden paddles that swelled her flesh and made it bright red, to the leathe belt that started to bring bruise lines with every vicious swing, the second cane that brought a touch of blood to those welts where he felt excitement and a touch of trepidation, to the looped silicone wire that he had created just for her and her very own leather belt which he had made.  Her belt marked the begining of the worst pain.  He was vicious with each swing and gave her not breathing room into the big leather strap.  He had once used that strap to keep himself safe and tonight he was going to swing it hard and relentlessly to save her from herself.  Two more implements to go.  She was a crying worn out mess and almost purged of all his frustration.  He wrapped his body around her and loved on her for as long as he could without breaking the purpose.  She had come to a purging and was weeping and thankful.  He gave her finally instructions and then braced himself as he swung the hard plastic grid stick he had made for her as hard as he dared ten excruciating times.  Immediaately he picked up the thing she loved the most, his thick leather belt that he wore around his waist every day. He put all his love in that leather as it tore across her swollen bruised ass and felt her let go of the last of the pain and anger.  

As the last lashing of the belt ended she felt all of the horrible things fall out of her leaving clean and she cried how much she loved him and how grateful she was.  He wrapped his arms around and somehow released her writs and ankles at the same time.  They held each other in a pain induced bliss. She started kissing him, wanting to feel him inside what was now her dripping pussy and cum all over him.  His beatings always turned her on, althought she didn't really realize it until the pain was over. They fucked each other hard and he made her cum and squirt over and over until she took his cock in her mouth.  There was nothing more blissful than sucking his cock with or without the beaating.  She thrilled on the gagging, thrusting, and desperate overwhelminhg desire that rolled off of him.  She begged him for fuck her face hard and cum and as he looked in her eyes with burning desire and love he fucked her mouth hard and fast and came explosively down her throat and chin.

As they laid spent wrapped in each other they were both marvelling at having found and accepted something this fabulous, and never again would it matter what anyone else thought or said.  They spoke the same language and they spoke it to each other with everything they had.

Rose ;)

All In Part 1

 As I sit trying to concentrate my eyes begin to shut all by themselves.  Before I can shake my self awake I am falling into a dream long from the reality I was navigating a moment before.  As my dream begins to focus I see you walking into the camper.  You have an odd look on your face.  It isn't anger or frustration but it is very serious.  You kneel in front of my chair kissing my mouth and stroking my face. As I begin to speak you put your finger on my lips to silence me and your eyes go from tender to serious again.  You tell me to go straight to the bed take off my clothes, get on all fours and wait silently.  A million questions assault my mind and I almost open my mouth, but something in your eyes tells me to trust you and our dynamic.  I do exactly as told and it feels like a lifetime that I wait naked on the bed, but I never break position.  

Finally I hear you behind me and then I hear the sound of a cane cutting through the air.  My breath catches in my throat and all the questions dissappear as my body braces for the pain.  All you say is please do not move.  I know without a doubt that this is going to be extremely hard to take.  The first stroke comes.  The pain is so intense that every inch of my body screams.  It takes all my willpower to stay in my position as I whimper and gasp.  As the next ten swats fall they actually get harder.  I just barely manage to stay as still as possible while I cry and yell with the increasing pain.  As stroke ten falls I cannot hold on any longer and I fall to the bed and curl up in a ball crying and gasping.

You immediately wrap your arms around and while you caress and comfort me you tell me how proud you are of me.  When I am all cried out you tell me to come to the living room and we will talk.  You want to explain what you have been thinking and feeling, and that you have made a decision.

You hold me on the couch and we talk for two hours.  I genuinely sit and listen to you explaining where your mind has been and what you decided.  You tell about your concerns and doubts about this dynamic I want in our lives.  You even tell me about your concerns that I genuinely want this as much as I say that I do.  In the end you say that you decided that the only way to proceed was to try it out all in and see what happens.  You wanted to know if I was truly ready to trust you to make decisions and if I would follow instructions without question.  While praising me for my willingness to trust our communication would still exist and blindly following instruction would be the exception and not the norm.  You tell that the only way for you to know for sure if I was ready for that was to try it out.

Again you praise me for the beautiful way I handled myself and thank me for my trust in you.  I tell you that I love you with all my heart and I am so thankful to have you, and that you trusted me enough to go all in for me.  I start to reach for you and you stop me the same serious look on your face as you had when you walked in.  

The butterflies in my stomach begin to flutter around nervously and I am pretty sure that there is more intense pain to come.  You eplain that we are going to begin as we intend to continue and set this thing off on the right foot.  There is going to be a whole night of talking and physical challenges.  There will be bondage, impact play, clamping, instructions to follow to the letter and none of it will be easy.  You ask me to think and tell you honestly if I want to go on this journey with you.  My heart and mind are screaming yes but I pause and think of what this will entail.  I decide I trust you completely and this is absolutely what I want.  You take my hand, kiss me gently, and hold me close.  I feel all the love in the world surrond me and I am both terrified and perfectly at peace as you lead me to the first challenge...

To Be Continued

Rose🌹

 Life evolves around tiny things.  The infinite universe is held in the space of a proton.  There are probably things that are even tinier things that we know nothing about.  We are ourselves a tiny speck of life on an infinitely big stage.  Words are even tinier things that come the tiny sparks of life that are ideas.

The smaller you get the bigger you get, which is counterintuitive and difficult to conceptualize, but it expands the whole way you think.  In the midst of all this infinitesimal infinite stuff are human emotions.  They shouldn't be able to affect the whole universe.  Yet that is exactly what happens.  Our insignificant emotions have all the significance of the ever-expanding universe.

That is what you are opening for me.  Allowing me to embrace that my earth-shattering orgasm that means nothing also means everything.  You have helped me see my tiny place in the universe, and given me the magnificent power of life.

Thank you.  I love you.  You have given me my joy and power.  Such small words with such great power.  This is what I can give to you.  The smallest spark of my life that will add it's sum to the universe with yours and grow exponentially.  From one insignificant spark of life to another.  Thank you for giving me the power of the universe.

The gift that will never stop growing.

Rose

Tell Me A Story

There was a moment in time.  I was more broken than usual.  I had completely lost site of how to climb out of the hole. I had completely lost site of how to ask for help.  He was there, because that is who he is.  The little things are forgotten or neglected in the fray of too much activity, but when the big things happen he is there.  Coming up trumps just in the moment when you need him the most. 

I didn't have the words to express the pain, give vent to the grief.  The pain kept getting larger until I had no more capacity to contain it and it had to bubble over into the lives of those who loved me enough to see me through. Mostly just in the form of tears, but there was something different, something more that I needed from him. 

I watched him sitting there cross legged next to me.  Busy doing something that I, selfishly, had absolutely no interest in hearing about.  I could see him every time I opened my eyes.  I knew that it was love and not obligation that kept him there.  There were probably half a dozen other places he should have been, but for me, and for the grief we shared, he made the time.

Not for the first time I didn't know how to say what was inside me. I felt the overwhelming gratitude that he deserved, but there were no words that were big enough.  No matter how much he had always given to me I needed something more.  As I lay there the words came unbidden to the surface.  "Please tell me a story".  That was it, just that one simple plea. He looked up with those beautiful eyes, surprised, like someone had dumped cold water on his head.  Then the best man that I have ever known started talking.  He told me stories till I slept.  Never questioning the insanity of my request.  Just loving me the way he always had, and always would.

No matter how much has passed since or what griefs I may have had, I will never forget the man I love, that moment in time, and his story.

Rose

Mental Illness Lies

There is a voice.  It isn't telling me to kill people and I am aware that it isn't real.  Still, there is a voice.  It tells me all kinds of things about myself.  It has convinced me that I deserve to be alone, that everyone I love wants nothing to do with me, that I am the most pathetic person on earth, that all the nice things people do and say are just for pity and no one really loves me, that I deserve to die.  The voice has a name, it is called mental illness. 

It has fancier titles like Bipolar Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder, but at the end of the day it is mental illness.  I am just one of the myriad of people who hear the voice.  It sounds a little different for everyone.  It ruins relationships and isolates to the point of utter despair.  There are many things that can help quiet the voice but it will never totally go away. 

I have the voice but I also have some incredible gifts.  I have a large capacity for love, kindness, gentleness, giving, and loyalty.  I also have the ability to turn a phrase and entertain with words.  Even if no one reads this or is the least bit entertained by it, I can use my gifts to take some of the power from the voice.

If you have loved me there is a good chance that there was a time that you were confused by me and questioned my belief, dedication, love, and possibly even my sanity.  Please know that I have loved even when I could not stop doubting.  Even when the voice is the only thing that I can hear, my heart still loved.  I have also learned.  Most importantly I have learned that the voice lies.  Now when I hear it I usually have the strength to tell it to shut up, but there is a side effect. 

I need to hear your reassurance, loudly and often.  I am terribly insecure because sometimes it is hard to know the difference between the voice and reality.  It doesn't mean I don't believe in you.  Actually if I am spending the time to find out about what you really mean I believe and love you a great deal.  Whether you have loved me, or someone else that has the voice there are a few things you should try to remember. 

If they have told you that they love you it is because they do. They are doing the best they know how to do.  They need to hear from you, love, commitment, kindness, as well as concerns about things they do or say.  Communication can make the voice a lot quieter.  Most important, at least for me, keep telling them and yourself that the voice lies.

Rose 

Yes I Really Did That

Yes I really did that stupid thing.  Yes I did actually think it through.  Yes I truly believed it was a good idea.  Yes I am an idiot.

The problem is that at 42 I can no longer use that excuse.  I made those choices and whether I am an idiot or not I now have to live with the consequences. I hurt people I love.  Lots of them.  I even manage to destroy a relationship that survived 27 years, drugs, alcohol, affairs, a miscarriage, and all of my varied insanity.  Yes I managed to destroy that.

Yes I really did that.  Now I wish I could take it back.  Doesn't work that way.  Now what happens is I get to live with that.

Rose

Purge

When I come back from out of town there are always about a million things that are floating around in my head that I didn't get around to saying, or asking.  I figure if I write them all down then I don't have to carry them with me and wonder about them constantly.  So here goes.

1. I don't want to be the girl you describe by saying, I love her to death and I've known her forever but the sex isn't really that great.
2. What exactly does, "I have made a commitment to you" mean?
3. Does it bother you that you always pay for everything, because it makes me feel like an ass.  Less so if what you are paying for is liquor, but still.  I totally get that you are in a much better financial place than me for many reasons, but I am 42 years old, you would think I could pay for my own coffee by now. 
4. When they told me I had cancer for the third time it wasn't half as terrifying as hearing you say that you would totally dump me if Donna asked you to, I totally get it and I even agree, but it hurt a really lot.
5. I was shocked as hell when you told me you talked to her about me moving in with you.  The concept had never even occurred to me.  I am incredibly flattered that you gave it serious enough consideration to talk to your girlfriend. 
6. I want you to help me meet people, specifically people in the BDSM community, for two reasons.  You know most of the best people and if you are going to do it you should do it with the best. Second, I am smart enough to know that I could get myself in serious trouble meeting strangers and I know you will keep me safe.  If  you don't want that responsibility you should be completely honest with me.
7. You are incredible at taking care of me, even from five hours away.  I don't say it nearly enough, but thank you.
8. All the other ones are logistics, important logistics but just logistics, this one is the important one.  I know I say it but just so you know.  I LOVE YOU.

Hopefully that will hold my insane brain together for a little while.

Rose

The Things I Haven't Told to The Man I Tell Everything

I am not terribly proud of it but most of my relationships are not even remotely based on trust, love, or honesty.  Don't get me wrong, I don't lie about who I am and what I do as a rule. However, I usually give people what they think they want me to be.  My personality has many different sides so most of the time I just use the side that fits the person I am with.  Slut, caretaker, innocent, ingenue, etc., etc.  I also don't volunteer information with most people.  So although I have always been honest about who I am they actually know very little about me, how I feel, or the struggles that I have.

Like most things in life there is an exception.  He has always been, mostly, transparent with me.  Well with pretty much anyone.  When he was an asshole the one thing you can say is that he was an honest asshole.  I have no doubt that he will always be honest with me, even if it hurts me, a lot.  He is the only person that I know who is truly open minded.  Lots of people claim to be, but then they find out things about you and the judgement begins.  Not him, I have never felt judged by him.  As a consequence of this I have always just effortlessly told him the truth about me.  I don't hold anything back, even if it hurts him, a lot.

Except that now it is different.  I am twenty years older, I have had four kids, I have a frightening number of health problems.  All of this leads to truths about me that are mortifying to me.  Although I know that he still wouldn't judge me for anything, especially health issues, I am terrified that he will just instinctively be turned off by these things.  That I will no longer be beautiful and compelling to him. If I said this to him I know what he would say.  He would use that, I can't believe I have to say this out loud, tone of voice and he would tell me that none of my medical issues would ever change the way he feels.  I know that is true, but you cannot always control what your instinctive reaction is to something.  I don't know if I will ever tell him all this but I need to purge my system of it so...

Deep breath and here we go

I have chronic renal failure.  My kidneys are progressively dying.  This isn't a new truth.  I have told him this before.  The symptoms of this disease are what I have been hiding.  The almost constant pain that runs through my back and into my urinary system.  The fact that I get bladder infections after every single time that I have sex.  The fact that I have to take medication after every time I have sex to prevent my urinary system from shutting down completely.  Plus the one that is hard even to type, I am about 40% incontinent.  Dear god that is hard to say, even if I am just saying it to myself.  Due to the general toxicity of my system I also have horrible skin.  One of the biggest reasons that I am considering not doing chemo is because it would finish my kidneys off for good.  They will do that soon enough on their own, they don't need any help.

I have aplastic anemia.  Which means that my blood marrow is not making enough red blood cells.  The only real side effects of this particular problem is that I am pale, have weak muscles, and dizzy spells.  The real problem is that I have to occasionally have blood transfusions and eventually I will have to have a bone marrow transplant if I want to keep living.

The cancer probably has the least amount of side effects.  The treatment truly is worse than the disease.  As I read this it sounds like a pathetic attempt to get attention even to me, but that isn't what this is.  I need for him to know everything.  He was always the person I could tell anything to.  It has been hurting me that I was keeping most of this from him, at least the embarrassing parts.  I need to be able to be completely honest or this isn't going to work.  I know this reads like a desperate bid for attention, but I don't want attention because of the things that are wrong with me.  I want acceptance for the things that are wrong with me and attention because of the things that are right and because of love.

Now the only question is whether I will be brave enough to send him the link.

Rose

Acceptance

I am struggling with something.  Okay, that is way too simplistic.  As is usually the case, I am struggling with lots of things all at the same time.  The difference is that this time most of what I am struggling with can be summed up in one word.  Acceptance.

I am good at acceptance of the big things.  Freedom of speech means freedom of speech, even if I think that you are evil and horrible, that is your right.  What form your private life takes is all about you and I am good with it.  Most of the time I am even completely good with learning all about something new to me.  Short of injuring someone else, how you make your money is between you and your god.  As rule I am good at the big, broad strokes of the concept.  It is the personal and specific things that I am having a problem with.

I can't change what people want, specifically what they want from a relationship with me.  I tend to have one of two types of relationships.  Either the other person is way more into me than I am into them, or I am way more into someone than they are into me.  The latter of the two happens more the older I get.  However, that is NOT the situation that I am struggling with now.  I am in a relationship where the attraction and emotional connections are fairly equal on both sides.  The acceptance problem comes when you start to talk about expectation.

I am bad about expecting too much too soon, but this may be bigger than that.  I naturally expect for him to be my Top, in the way that he was before, but also in a bunch of ways that would be new for both of us.  It starts with the fact that he naturally takes good care of me, he always has.  Then you add the fact that he challenges me, he guides me through new things, he corrects me when I am being irrational, impatient, or just a pain in the ass. He soothes my soul and challenges my intellect. I can lean on him, learn from him, and enjoy him. At this point in my life I would, not only benefit, but also thrive in this type of relationship. I am not certain that any of this is unreasonable.  Now I need to erase all these expectations from my mind and accept the wonderful I have.  Acceptance is hard.

I am sick.  I have several conditions that can be life threatening, and are certainly affecting the way I live my life.  Sick isn't something I can change.  I can do all the things that are required of me to try to make me healthier, but ultimately I have absolutely no control over what is happening to my body and my life.  Now I have to accept that it is, what it is.  Now I have to accept that I can only do so much.  Now I have to accept that my life will be altered and possibly shortened.  Acceptance is hard.

I write this blog to get everything out of my head so I can try to make sense of it.  Not sure that it is possible to make more sense of these things.  They are what they are and the best thing I can do is accept them, and that is what I am struggling with.

Rose

Lazy and Demanding

First the entirely too wordy preface.  Half of me thinks labels are ridiculous.  People are never only one thing.  They don't like or dislike any one thing.  Every person demonstrates traits differently.  It is impossible to describe someone accurately, or know them thoroughly, from just the labels attached to them.  Half of me thinks that labels are awesome.  I can use one word, instead of a whole paragraph, to communicate to a whole community of people something about my psyche and what makes me tick.  I can find people who may identify with my desires and interests.  Plus, and I get how this makes me a little crazy, I feel safe knowing that I belong.

Having said all that, I identify myself as a sub and very occasionally a slave.  I feel safest and happiest when I have someone who takes care of me.  Keeping a handle on my destructive behavior, guiding me to the place where I am honest and open, allows me to take responsibility for my behavior without shame or emotional abuse, guides me through things that I find terrifying into pleasure, is willing to do all the physical things that keep me balanced and demonstrate the consequences of my actions.  There is more but that should give the basic idea.

The question here is, does all of this make me a sub or does it just make me lazy and demanding?  Do I identify myself in this way so that I don't have to do anything or take any responsibilities in relationships?  Am I just looking for someone to take all the burden that should be shared between two people in a relationship?  Am I never going to be satisfied with any relationship because no one will be able to provide everything that I want in a relationship?

I don't want to be lazy and demanding.  I really do see submission as a gift.  Perspective is sometimes hard to achieve when you are looking at it from your own angle.  I wonder, will the people that know me best have the answers to some of these questions, and if they do will they be honest with me?  If the worst is true, how do I even begin to fix these things?

So, am I submissive or am I lazy and demanding?

Rose ;)

Women

Women are beautiful. No matter the size, no matter the style. They are all beautiful.

I am most attracted to the ones with curves. They are soft, they feel fabulous, and they are absolutely gorgeous. I am enjoying appreciating.

http://www.rebelcircus.com/blog/11-alternative-plus-size-women-rockin-killer-edgy-style/

Rose ;)

Self-Centered

What does self-centered look like?

Is it my need to have someone acknowledge everything I say?  Is it my desire to have constant reassurance from the people I love?  Is it my expectation to be the center of someone's universe exactly when I want them?  Is it the way that I constantly try to impress?  Is it the justification of my bad behavior?  Is it all these things?  Is it everything that I have become?

I am hurting someone that I love.  This has created two thoughts. First is that I love him and don't want someone to be hurting him even if it is me.  This thought makes me want to say that he would be much better off without me, especially right now.  I feel like I should tell him that I am going to walk away, because I love him, and maybe some day I can come back the person he deserves to have in his life.  This is my love for him that says he deserves the best life he can possibly have and I am not that right now.

The second thought is that I desperately don't want to loose him.  It is physically painful to think about him not being in my life.  He comforts and challenges me and those are two things that are damn near impossible to find in the same person.  I am a better person with his influence in my life. He has made being really sick not quite so bad, even bearable.  I could spend days just silently looking in his eyes.  I have never had conversations with anyone that I enjoy as much as I enjoy talking to him.  His voice soothes my soul.  This is my love for myself saying that I need him for my selfish reasons.

Does he get anything out of this relationship?  Am I just too difficult to merit keeping me around? Am I even capable of being a person of substance anymore?  Is it really the emotional turbulence that makes these undesirable qualities so prevalent?  Am I strong enough to do the right thing?  What is the right thing?

I have no idea what self-centered looks like, but I am afraid it might look like me.

Rose

Go Ahead and Roll Your Eyes

When I am not all that into someone, whether I never did or I have lost the love I once had, they tend to get on my nerves.  These days means I roll my eyes when they call, text, message.  At one time it went so far that I would completely avoid them until they got the point and went away. I have never felt that way, or at least responded that way, to any one who I wanted in my life.  I am now wondering if most the people who know always roll my eyes when I call or text, even if they still want me in their life.

The people that are part of my life are the best people that there are.  They are kind, considerate, smart, talented, and just plain amazing.  I have gods that have stepped to earth as friends.  They would not in a million years tell me something that they thought might hurt me.  They would tell me the truth, but not if it was just something that was just a little irritating.  It would have to be a major character flaw or something that would hurt me in the long run for them to risk damaging me.  This is one of the incredible things about them, but it can become problematic.  I will never know if they find me annoying when I talk to much, which I do a lot, or text really stupid things, which I do occasionally, or even the never ending inane Facebook posts.

I don't want to be that girl.  I desperately don't want to be the girl whose friends internally roll their eyes every time they see my name on their phone or when I start talking endlessly about something.  So here are my choices as I see them.  I can forget it completely and just let things go the way they always have.  I refuse to simply ignore something that I know to be a real character flaw, so that is one option down.  I can stop texting and calling my friends to give them some space and hopefully they will see that I am making an effort and I actually may be less annoying, but I don't want to stop talking to my friends.  I could ask them to tell me every time I am annoying, but they love me enough not to do this.

So where does that leave me? Basically it leaves me rolling my eyes because writing all of this and accomplishing nothing is a really annoying thing that I do.

Addiction and Cancer

I have been addicted to alcohol, cocaine, meth, heroine, oxy, cutting, food, shopping, sex and people.  By far the most painful addiction is people.  Heroine almost ruined my life, but it didn't break my heart.  You need a living breathing person to have your heart broken.

The first person who broke my heart was my mother.  She did it so thoroughly that I built a solid steel wall between my heart and the rest of the world.  I could feel some but there was no chance the I was ever going to be in love.  I formed attachments, but not any that I couldn't walk away from.  I was the queen of picking up and walking away at a moments notice.  I was addicted to finding something new and I left a trail of hearts in my wake.  It never occurred to me that I was hurting anyone.  It never occurred to me that they could be in love with me when I wasn't in love with them.  I left a lot of really good people behind.

Then, at 25, I got cancer for the first time.  Being told that you might be murdered by a disease at 25 can change everything about you.  I didn't instantly change but I certainly grew up.  Then, at 29, I got cancer for the second time.  Everything changed, I saw people as people, I cared what I was doing to others and finally I was capable of falling in love.  It was then that I learned what all those people whose hearts I had broken felt when I disappeared. I started to live with, and deal with the pain and guilt from all those years when I felt nothing.

They told me I couldn't have any more children.  I was blessed with two more beautiful, wonderful, amazing babies.  Having them almost killed me and no one thought I should go through with it, but for the first time someone else was more important to me than me. This is when I learned what real love meant.  I also learned that love hurts, a lot.  I got to feel what happens when your heart breaks.

I am 42, and I was just diagnosed with cancer for the third time.  I can not even put into words how terrified I am.  I have aplastic anemia, kidney disease, and cancer. I know who I am and I know what I want in my life for whatever life I may have left.  Now I am learning what it feels like to need people that don't need me.  I have absolutely incredible friends.  These are the best people to ever walk the planet, but these people have lots of life in their lives.  I have become the one who is needy, high maintenance, and dependent. I am the complete opposite of what I was at 25.

So now I take some space, I look at my life and I realize, it takes a living breathing person to have your heart broken.

Rose

Oh That Sound...

I am a visceral person.  Touch, smell, sound are all inexorably linked to places, people, feelings.  It has become really obvious to me in the last week or so that I will never be able to rid myself of these associations.  Honestly, I don't really want to.  I love the feeling that I get in my stomach when I hear a belt come out of belt loops.  I literally throb and get wet when I hear the sound of a butterfly knife.  These sounds bring up people and places, memories of things that I am pretty sure I don't want to get rid of. Some are good, some are bad, but all of them have had a significant part in shaping me into the person I am today.  I like the person that I am right now.  I am certainly not perfect.  There are lots of things that I am going to continue to work on improving.  However, I like me.  I don't know if this makes me crazy or sick, but I don't want to get rid of my memories.  I love the way that sound feels.

Rose

Fear

Last night a very little thing happened that made me absolutely terrified.  I went to a whole new level of fear.

Vincent went to mow the lawn for his aunt.  This is an example of how he is just awesome.  He really does think about how he can do for the people he loves.  I knew that he was going, and when he does this he usually leaves his phone in the car to charge and I know this as well.  Earlier in the day however I asked him to text me when he got to his aunt's house so I would know he was ok.

Several reasons for this.  He drives a truck for a living and that is inherently dangerous, his car is a piece of crap and I am just waiting for it to give out, and he is almost always home by four because he starts at five in the morning and I just needed to know he was ok if he wasn't going to be home.

Well the inevitable happened and he forgot to text and left his phone in his car.  Then it took him a longer than normal amount of time for him to mow.  So I am at home wondering if he is ok and getting more and more worried.  By six I was convinced that he had an accident and that is why he hadn't contacted me.

I completely freaked out.  I was crying and hyperventilating and I just could not calm down.  First I thought about the horrible idea of a world without him and then I thought about what would happen to me and our babies without him.  I was in full horror swing.  I left him a voice mail cursing him out and going on a full on rant.  (Yeah I know, not pretty)  When he did call me I interrupted what he was trying to say and asked him if he was ok.  When he said he was I told him to never f***ing talk to me again and hung up on him.  When he got home I went on a full on hour long rant.  He had worked since 5 and mowed the lawn but I didn't care how tired, hot, hungry, or dirty he was I was going OFF.

He was absolutely nothing but contrite.  He kept apologizing and telling me he knew how scared I was and how much he loved me and how sorry he was.  I did eventually calm down and we talked about it.  It was very late and we were both exhausted (him from hard work and me from being a complete freak) but we got it worked out and got past the hurt and fear.

So we have dealt with what he did.  It is completely over and behind us and I will not bring it up again.  We have not dealt with what I did.  It was really late and it was not an appropriate time for us to deal with that.  Tonight we need to deal with my disrespect for him, not taking care of me, exposing my kids to my insanity, and my whole general attitude.

My hope is that he will NOT go lightly on me because of his contrition for what he did.  In my mind they are separate issues.  We dealt with one and it is done.  It has NO bearing on the issue we have to deal with now.  I am going to tell him this and then I AM (yes I really am) going to accept how he wants to deal with it.

So either I am going to have to deal with a very serious spanking that is going to REALLY suck or I am going to have to emotionally deal with him letting it go.  I was going to say that I am not sure which would be harder but I am pretty sure it will be him letting it go.  Maybe I am insane.

;p

Finally Defining Punishment

Several things have happened lately that have made me do some rethinking.  First, (mostly for Vincent) I want to say that this is about my head space, how I am made, and what I need.  This is absolutely not about what Vincent is doing or not doing.  Yes it involves the spanking that he gives, but he is not wrong.  This is just an evolving process, and to be honest I have not been very forthcoming about my thoughts.

So the other night I got really upset with Vincent and refused to let him spank me, (not the right choice, ever) then I have told him several times that spanking is not a joke and it feels like that is how he is taking it, and there was a spanking that Vincent thought was very severe and honestly it would fall into the "good girl spanking" category for me.

I did eventually agree to and got the spanking that I had refused.  It was not pleasant. When he uses Z the spanking is never pleasant.  I would not ever put Z into the "good girl spanking" category.  It is most definitely punishment and it always hurts.  I have decided that this isn't about the pain in my butt, but the space in my head.   Even though it hurt and I wanted it to stop I also knew that I needed it to go on so that it got past the pain in my butt and then past the brick wall in my head.  Vincent is kind, loving, and just doesn't want to hurt me.  He is wonderful and I DON'T want to change this about him.  However, for the sake of him and my kids there are things I HAVE to change.  For whatever reason this thing called Domestic Discipline is the best way for me to change. (Why my mind works that way is a subject for a completely different blog.)

Yesterday I sent him a text telling him that I thought I needed a long session over his knee with the paddle to put me in the right head space for the week and give me something to think about when making choices.  Vincent totally stepped up to the plate and gave me what I asked for.  In my head the spanking I got last night with the paddle would qualify as a "good girl" or "foreplay" spanking.  Vincent did nothing wrong.  I have a high pain tolerance, hard butt, and hard brick wall in my head.  Add to that the fact that he is careful that he doesn't hurt me and we reach an impasse.

This impasse is my fault.  Because of my embarrassment and because I am still working this all out I have not been open enough about how I feel about spanking.  I have been incredibly tentative when trying to talk to him face to face about this whole thing.

Up until now the "good girl" or "foreplay" spankings have been on the front of my body and basically teasing in nature.  These are awesome and I don't want them to stop.  However, I have never told him that him telling me to get on my knees and alternating spanking so it hurts (not like Z, but like the paddles or maybe some leather) and fucking me from behind makes me wet and throbbing.  These kind of spankings can and should be fun, they can include joking and teasing, they can include attitude adjustment, role affirmation, reminders of rules, maintenance and some behavior correction.  In my mind punishment is completely different.

Punishment is not a joke and isn't open to teasing.  Punishment is a consequence of bad behavior and a deterrent to future bad behavior.  I should think about it, shudder and vow to never experience punishment for that reason again.  Punishment should not be in a comfortable position like laying on the bed, but something directly associated with punishment like over the knee.  To me putting me over the knee means, "I am putting you here because you are in trouble and I am going to have to hold on to you because you are going to want to run away from what I am going to do to you."  Punishment should include tears, more pain than you can tolerate, marks, bruises, genuine heartfelt remorse, restraint by hand or ties of some sort so I can't move away, and lots of pain in the butt the next day.

Okay, here is the admission that I do not want to make.  The punishment spankings I got as a kid are what punishment spankings should be.  I would never spank my children.  Not ever for any reason.  Kids are growing, they are small, they are vulnerable, they should be able to trust their parents completely.  However, for me, a consenting fully grown adult, punishment should be baaaad.

There are several reasons I haven't opened up about this.  I was embarrassed.  I am still figuring it out myself.  I am not insane (no, really, I'm not) so I don't look forward to putting in place a punishment that fits the bill and know that I will get it at some point.  I am going to be better, and I know that this can work.

Having said all that I will said that relationships are not all about one person.  What happens next depends on how Vincent feels about all this.  I know he isn't going to enjoy truly punishing me.  He is not sadistic.  He has no desire to really hurt me and doing so it going to be incredibly hard for him.  If it is not something that he can do then I will accept that and we will work it out together.  Now I just have to be brave enough to tell him.

;p