The things I don't want to talk about

This time I'm going to use the blog to write about something Mistress ordered me to write about. Sometimes, written indirect communication is a lot easier than saying things out loud. 

We had a talk the other day, about one of the areas were we function differently. We compliment each other a lot, and often that's a good thing. But in some ways it's problematic, because our basic ways of handling hings are very different.

If I get an idea or if something pops into my head, I act on it pretty immediately. I look it up, I examine it, I get interested and check it out. If it's something fun and doable, I do it. Pronto. If it's not, I drop it and don't think about it again. I'm either on or I'm not, there's no waiting and no in-between.

When Mistress gets an idea or hears about something, she goes "hmm...". She ponders it, I guess, and I also guess it is sorted into some sort of category of "interesting things to explore later". And there it sits, possibly forever. If she gets another impulse later on, it might be taken out and re-examined, perhaps with a little bit more interest, and then put back in the inner filing cabinet again. This can go on for some time, until one day the opportunity is exactly right, the cue comes at the right moment, and she tries whatever it is out. But she can wait for years, even for things she has a positive attitude towards.

If I haven't acted on something for years, or even a few weeks, it's very likely that I'm not into it. I don't have a filing cabinet. I'm a Just-In-Time sort of business.

So sometimes I forget that Mistress isn't like me. I can suggest something, maybe a little embarrassing, maybe a little kinky, and she goes "hmm...". And then I wait. And wait. And wait. And maybe, just maybe, I'll mention it again a little later. And then I wait. But if nothing has happened by then, if she hasn't acted on the idea after a short while, I draw the for me logical conclusion that she hated the idea, that it will never ever happen, and that I made a fool out of myself by nagging her about it. "I'm such a moron". Enter shame and self-loathing.

And then I do my very best to erase that desire from my mind, because obviously it's not something she's into, and very futile for me to be interested in all on my own. But that process makes me grieve a little, and feel bad and a little ashamed of my self.

It's not a good process, and it makes me reluctant to ever mention anything I find interesting, because I feel so stupid when it doesn't happen.

We talked about it, and I hinted that yes, there are things I've mentioned that I would like us to do, but that I can't bring myself to mention again, because I've convinced myself that she doesn't want it anyway and that I make a fool of myself if I admit to wanting it. Of course, that didn't fly and she wanted to know what things, but when I got all caught up in embarrassment and anxiety over it she relented. "Ok", she said, "you can write about it in your blog instead".

Actually, I think she said "the next time you write in your blog" but... it's hard.

But I did write about knifeplay. That's one of the things.

Figging is another. Sin at finding my submission just wrote a piece about it, and that inspired me to finally write this somewhat awkward post.

I like figging. And Mistress has done it to me, and she seemed very enthusiastic when she tried it, and she knows I love it. And then it just never happens, and with time the whole concept grows into an aching little thing in my heart and I shy away from any reminder of it. I don't want to think about or feel anything about it, because it hurts, and it makes me feel stupid.

I hate it when I want something she doesn't want. Often I can re-direct my wants to align with hers', and that makes the problem go away. But when I can't, or when I get mixed signals and can't really read what she wants, it hurts me. It makes me feel bad over being me, and I've yet to figure out anyway to deal with that in any constructive manner.

So yeah. Figging. I can write it here, reluctantly, but I can't say it out loud. I've said it to many times, from my perspective, and she knows it already.

Anything else? Well, anything to do with anal play, really. Something I like a lot, and she... likes sometimes. I think it's just to much bother most of the time, and she said once that when we're always in a hurry she likes to keep to the sure things, the things she knows can get us both off. And I get that, and it makes sense. I still can't bear to suggest any one thing more than once or twice though, no matter the circumstances. If I think she knows that I like something, I don't want to say it. I mean, she knows already. I can't give her any new information. 

Hmm... I seem to have a lending-fetish, I guess one can call it. This too she knows, and this I do talk about sometimes, because I don't have the feeling that she could have done it and has chosen not to. What with the kid and our very restricted social life the lack of opportunities are very evident. I don't have to think she's never done it (or seldom done it) because she doesn't want to. I still don't like the feeling that I'm nagging her, but yeah, it's one of those things I sometimes wish for.

I want to be lent out by her. I want to be used by other people. Not sexually necessarily, in the intercourse sort of way, it's really more the objectification-aspect of it all. I love to be openly hers when in company, because it makes it real to me in a way that makes me feel all kinds of good. I think this is mostly an extension of that. I want to be treated as an object, or as a submissive, by other people too.

She once, or maybe twice, have let someone other than her hold my leash in a club, and just thinking about that makes me tingly. Things like that. Being ordered around. Being made to submit. Being dominated openly in company. That's a fetish of mine, I think.

In fantasies, sure, sex plays a part, but being used sexually is not at the core of it. The core is being used, being seen as not-in-charge, being seen as hers more than an equal. I think it might be so simple as being seen as the person I really am, rather than the one society tells me to be.

Okay, that was all I think. It's mostly the figging-thing that's an issue. The rest is just as it is. I think the list is longer, probably, but this is what comes to my mind right now. I'll be an obedient slut and fill in missing pieces as they turn up.







 

Christmas break

We actually had a good Christmas. I'm a bit surprised, because this celebrating with family while having a little one haven't been all that fun the last couple of years. She's been sick, or just to tired, and also we've been exhausted to the point that any deviation from routine or extra demands on us has felt like a chore and nothing but a chore. This year though, we planned with all this in mind, didn't travel anywhere and didn't really have any expectations. And now she's three, which means she understands a lot more and had a lot more fun.

We celebrate on Christmas Eve (we're Swedes, we do that here) and on Christmas Day the kid was so tired and out of sorts that when it was lunch time she was laying on the floor with her favourite blanket and pacifier in her mouth, and I fed her laying down. Eventually she agreed to sit on my lap, and after a few more bites she wanted to sit on her own. But she was really spent after the excitement the day before. And so was I for that matter, and my parents and relatives. Mistress too, and she stayed at home while I was away with the kid socialising. I'm glad I can do that now, that I'm better and can do more things.

I'm taking two weeks off from school now, it's not official holidays (students don't get Christmas breaks) but I'm taking one anyway. And there's no lectures or anything planned, I'm thinking everyone is on an unofficial break. With the pressure from school off of me, I can do more with the kid and in the home, and take a little of the load off from Mistress. That feels really good.

We even had sex on Christmas Eve, after little S had gone to sleep. Mistress whipped me and then she apparently got inspired, because she fucked me too. It felt so good, and also, like a really good omen. If we could hang out with my parents a whole day, and spending all the time with little S, and not get on each others nerves and even have the energy to have sex in the evening - then things must really be better for us.

I bought Mistress a knife as a private Christmas present. Now, Mistress is the only one I know who once went to a LARP and played a knife-salesmen without having to borrow extra knifes - she has a few already, one can say. She likes knifes. But most of them are for LARPing, that is they have wood handles and are beautiful but not very... edgy. Or they're working knife, with bright red plastic handles and no sex appeal at all. We've talked about knife play, discussing whether or not it would be something to try, and Mistress once told me that the only thing that kept her from bringing a knife into our play was that none of the once she owned looked right. So I gave her one.

It's heavy but rather small, a pocket knife with a black handle and a blackened blade. It looks evil, even though it's just an ordinary workman's knife basically. She liked it, and used it on me a little bit, but only by stroking my naked body with it.

I'm not quite sure what she's going to do with it. I don't think she's really interested in making me bleed, or at least not a lot. She likes me more or less whole. She whips me bloody every now and then, but it's very shallow. So my guess is that she'll keep it shallow with the knife too. I wouldn't mind if she did cut me, honestly I would probably really like it if she made pretty marks on me. But I don't think neither of us finds a lot of blood or big gaping holes appealing. And also, the ER is such a boring place to spend an evening.

Mostly, the whole concept is just erotic and sexy in a scary kind of way.   

My friend I. reacted a bit funny when I mentioned knife play the other day, she was very apprehensive. She has a rather more exciting sex life than I have, and is into a lot of edgy stuff, so getting advice about caution from her threw me a little. It made me think, too. What is there to be afraid of?

I mean, really, what should I worry about? I have such a hard time seeing that bringing a knife in to the picture ups the stakes all that much. Yes, if Mistress went completely crazy she could do more damage with a knife than say with the rattan, but honestly, if I was calculating our actions on the basis of her going crazy, I wouldn't be with her at all. I mean, I leave my kid with her, for God's sake. I let her tie me up and gag me, without any possibility to get lose. She does all sorts of things. She runs our lifes. And honestly, she has kitchen drawers full of stuff to harm me with, not to mention her tool kit, if she was so inclined.

We discussed it a little, and one of the things I. brought up was skill. Knowing what you're doing. And if I look at it from the perspective of a casual play partner or someone you don't know all that well, a knife wouldn't be my first choice either. It can go so very wrong so very fast. But Mistress... I know her. And also, she's a hunter. She's been butchering animals for the last 20 years. If it's down to pure skill in knife handling, knowing how to cut, how hard to push, how to handle the blade, she does have that competence. It has nothing to do with kinky play and everything to do with working with a knife as a tool.

Anything else that may matter? Well, anatomy to some degree. But that only matters if she blade cuts through more than skin. If drawing blood and causing pain is the thing, then maybe it might be a good idea to know not to do that on say the jugular, or the inside of the thighs. Stay away from joints, and nerves. The basics. But there's nothing in that that is special for knifes - don't cut deep where you wouldn't hit with a rattan, and avoid the arteries. It's not rocket science. (Even though Mistress says that's not a good saying any more - rocket science isn't all that complicated...)

No matter what Mistress decides to do, I love that she has two weeks off her job too. She desperately needed a break. I've been trying to get little S out of her hair as much as I can, so that she'll get some actual rest and recovery, and not just switch from working and taking care of kid to taking care of kid full time. Yesterday when we were gone for several hours, she said she'd started to miss us. I liked that. That means I'm doing something right.
 

Everyday life

I wish I had more energy. I want to finish Mistress socks that I'm knitting, instead I just sit here. I'm waiting for her to finish working, but I'm a little afraid to. I'm afraid we'll start arguing, or that I'll disappoint her somehow, or I don't know - I'm probably afraid that she wont feel good and that I wont be able to make it better.

She was really tired and felt yucky this morning. I think we're both very aware of the fact that she's working a lot, she's been a superhero all fall, and really we've both been since I got pregnant. Sometimes I get the distinct feeling that the two of us simply isn't cut out for this life. Not for life in general, mind, just this one. In this society. With the specific demands placed on us, in this time and place.

I'm so worried that she'll end up were I am. Clinically depressed and burnt out. I need her not to be. And I can't help her, and it makes my stomach turn to knots.

But really, other then being tired right now, I've had a good day. My mom came over for dinner, so that Mistress could work late without me being alone with little S and fixing food. It was nice, the best part was that after dinner I actually hung out with them, I didn't retreat to my room and collapsed. I am getting better. I really am.

But then mom offered to take little S on Friday afternoon, and it wasn't until after awhile I realised her offer encompassed me being home alone with little S the whole morning and making lunch to the three of us. That made the offer a lot less tempting. "Oh, but I don't want to pick her up from pre-school, it'll take to long. It's only around three hours you'll be alone with her."

Yeah. I've been alone with little S around one hour tops this fall. I wish that was a reasonable thing to expect from me. But even more I wish that my own mom, that I see every week, would realise that it isn't. It makes me sad, and a little hurt, that she doesn't get it. But she doesn't. And she's 62 - she wont change. She'll never get it. I have no idea why, but for some reason, there is some things that just wont stick. One of them sees to be me not being able to do certain things.

---

Mistress actually liked the idea - we planned our Christmas shopping for Friday morning, and it's good for little S to start her Christmas break early. It's all fine. I just still wish I could have a little more tension-free relationship with my mother.

The good and the bad

Laying in a dark room without any input and no ability to do anything made wonderful things for my brain. My stomach tried to kill me (or at least it felt like it) and there was a period of six hours or so when that seemed like a good idea because I felt so horrible, but well, my brain obviously liked it. Nothing like a bout of calici virus to cure exhaustion and stress symptoms.

Mistress commented on it just now, and said something along the lines of that even if it had been hard on her, taking care of a first sick and then bored three year old, while tending her own stomach bug, if it was this good for me she might make me do it again. Not the calici part, just the "laying in a dark room for two days"-part.

I think that's a great idea, except that maybe it's not her and mine time together that should go to that, but my school/recuperating-time, that between nine and four when the little one is at preschool. I do try to do things I know will make me feel better, all the time, but usually I probably put to much active stuff into the schedule. That has it's reasons though, because if I was just laying in bed in a dark room without calici, my ruminations start. I have to balance the exhaustion part against the depression part of the problem - my brain is hyperactive, if I don't get any stimuli from the outside, it makes up it's own, and it's usually unpleasant.

One thing is that I'm consciously training the ability to be still without rumination, to be present and aware, by different exercises in mindfulness. I'm better at it now, but I have a life long training of doing the exact opposite, so results are so so at best.

Another thing is that Mistress can have the same effect on me that a severe stomach bug has... (Love you, darling!) She can make me present in the moment, focused on her and the here-and-now. Laying in the bed all by my self or laying in the bed because she ordered me to it, in a position she ordered me to, or bound by her physically, is two totally different experiences.

When she makes me do it, my focus is on obeying, and on her. My mind goes blank, or at least relaxes. The thoughts don't go away, usually, but they fade in to the background. It's not constant activity any more, it's just being there. I love it, but I can't achieve it on my own.

It's a state of awareness that can come when she ties me up, usually in the moment when I realise I can't get away, when the last knot is tied and I can see and feel that all the ends of the rope are out of my reach.  It's like my whole being relaxes - body and mind. It happens during beatings too, somewhere halfway when I stop struggling and relax in to the pain, and it usually lingers afterwards.

 I think it could probably happen at other times too, or I know it can, any time she exerts her power over me. In our day to day life that isn't to often, but sometimes on the couch when we watch television she'll grab my hair or put an arm or a hand around my throat, and I get that relaxed, aware, present feeling.

Right now I'm grateful our little family isn't puking our guts up any more, and that we seem to have a good chance of a relaxing weekend. There's a lot of misery around me, from the small stuff (our dog has chronic kidney problems we're trying to sort out) the personal impending doom-stuff (my father in law has prostate cancer, we'll know this Friday it it has spread to the skeleton, and we're all in different degrees of low-key terror) to the distant but unthinkable that happened in Connecticut.

But no. Right this minute I'm laying in bed with my beloved wife and Owner, we're going to have a whole night together for the first time in several days, and our daughter is thank God healthy and well looked-after downstairs by Grandma. This is good, and I'm going to let it be good, in this minute. That will have to be enough for now.

Ropes and relaxation

After a hard day home together all three of us, Mistress is doing some work at the computer in the bedroom, and I'm laying in the bed beside her. Tied up "like a mermaid" she said. Legs bound together all the way, and the torso to. My arms are free, but since feet and neck is tied to the bed and I can't reach the knots, I'm safely secured. Ingenuious, really. And very relaxing. We were supposed to go to a rope-meeting, but the babysitter, my dad, cancelled on us. This whole thing with being home with the kid a day without anything planned? Not relaxing. At all.

Marks and welts

Yesterday, Mistress tried out a new tool. Actually, it was my own fault, it was an old dressage riding crop with a broken tip. I tired of having it standing in a corner of our bedroom and figured if I cut off the broken tip maybe it could be used - and if it couldn't, we could throw it out.

Mistress decided to try it out, and it turned out it could be used. Very much so. Ouch!

The thing is, my buttocks are more or less covered in very thick skin. I guess having been spanked and paddled and whipped regularly for the last ten years or so can do that. It's one of my most erotic zones and I really like to be hit there, and it's the spot Mistress prefer to hit too. I think we both have got accustomed to my ability to take a beating there.

This time though, Mistress also targeted a bit of my outer thigh. And oh my God! There's a huge difference. Not only in pain level, but in actual skin sensitivity. With the last lash, she broke skin and there was a red bloody welt. And it hurt. A lot.

Afterwards, we were both kind of giddy and excited. This time, one can safely say she really did leave a mark. It still hurts actually, it stings quite a bit and I'm not particularly looking forward to taking a shower today. Also, it feels great.

When I got up this morning Mistress was in the kitchen, and when we said good morning she hugged me tight for a long time and kissed me. I felt so very very close to her. It makes me hope she'll whip me bloody more often...

Jinglebells, jinglebells

When we woke up this morning there was a snow storm outside. It has continued all day. Mistress took little S on her back in the ergo carrier and skiied to the pre-school. For real. I'm so in awe of her. I've been telling people about that all day in school and everybody has been duly impressed.

I mean, it makes perfect sense. Biking is out, since there's a half meter of snow everywhere. The car is covered in snow and freezing cold, so that's not practical either. That leaves walking, and why walk when there's a perfectly good pair of skis standing right by the door? So, skiing it was. I'm still impressed though. And she went and got her in the same way in the afternoon. I'm thinking I might volunteer to do it tomorrow morning.

Mistress wont be going to her work tomorrow though, most likely, since it's 1,5 hour with bus on a narrow road that is prone to accidents. I hope she stays home. I'll be going to school, I think, since I have an important seminar after lunch. But I think I'll call ahead and check that the tutor is actually there, and not stuck on a train somewhere. It's an on going joke that the train company acts surprised each year when the snow comes. It's always chaos. And I mean, it snows here every year, shouldn't they know that by now?

It's pretty, though. Cold, but pretty. From inside, I'm all for it.

This is what our neighbourhood looked like as I was going home from the bus station this afternoon.

We might have problems opening the front door in the morning. But since we live on the first floor, we can always jump out a window...

Tired, oh so tired.

I'm so so tired right now. So is Mistress, she didn't get home from work until seven, but she's sitting by the computer right now, doing something important for work.

And I get that it's important. I even know what it is she's doing and I agree that it's a good thing. But I'm worried about her. And about myself. I can't really separate between us, so when she's in a foul mood, I suffer. Not because she intends me to, God no, but because I can't... shield myself. There's nothing in the way between her bad mood and my discomfort.

If she's stressed, I'm stressed. And if I'm stressed, not only do I worry about her, but I can't recuperate on my own either. And if I can't recuperate, my health problems get worse. And then I can do less things for us, and she has more to stress over. And the responsibility not to get stressed, to try to recharge my batteries, to think happy thoughts and not get bogged down in depressive rumination, makes me feel guilty and the only thing that happens is that I get stressed out and feel even guiltier...

Also, when she's grumpy I get scared. I get insecure and shaky and watch her every move, afraid of doing or saying anything wrong. This would probably be easier to fix if it was all down to my insecurities, but unfortunately, we have a long history of bitter arguments, and she's not always predictable.

Right now, though, she doesn't have that tense, far-away look any more, she seems present and calm, and my fears are coming to rest. I'm still dead tired, though.

I just want to sleep. Sometimes I don't want to wake up either, but I work hard not to dwell on that. I know that the world is a beautiful place, really. It's just really hard to remember that when I'm to exhausted.

What I did today that tired me so? Just a normal study day. I had a therapy session, wrote a rapport of that, had lunch with a friend, had a group discussion in preparation of a seminar on Thursday, and then took the bus home, shopping things for dinner on the way home. Just a normal day. It's just that that my brain isn't really normal.

Can someone shut it off now, please?

It's winter now

This morning, it was -23 degrees Celsius. That's freaking cold! It makes me very aware of how fragile we are, how lucky we are to have a warm home, and how dependent we are of that.

Little S. is healthy again, even though right now I hear scary coughs coming from her bedroom. I hope she'll keep on sleeping. It's a bad omen if she comes out of bed this early in the evening - it doesn't bode well for the night to come.

Now Mistress and I will curl up under our warm fleece blanket and watch the telly. And drink tea. A winter type evening, one might say.

Oh, and my butt hurts. There's band aids on it. Good things, all around.

Problem solved

But when there weren't anything good on at nine o'clock, I jokingly said "well, then you'll just have to tie me up and beat me" and she said "Yeah, I guess you're right." That kind of threw me. So she walked the dog and told me to use the bathroom and shut down the laptop in the meantime, and when she got back, she tied me down at the bed, and beat my ass with the tawse.

Really really hard.

Afterwards she rearranged the ropes to have me on my back, and while she did it I commented flippantly about a rope that wasn't secured around my ancle. Something in my tone of voice or choice of words made her draw the conclusion that I wasn't properly submissive yet, "only because I haven't beaten you enough" she said and something in her voice and demeanour made me really really scared.

I apologised over and over, but that didn't help. In the end she made me lay still while she whacked me really hard, between my legs and on each of my breasts, and then on the left side of my face. She demanded that I was perfectly still and looking at her for each of the strokes, and when it was over, I was not only sincerely regretful but also very very meek and submissive.

The she left me there for a while, with an order to first count to a thousand, and then start touching myself. I was allowed to come if I said "I'm you're slut!" loudly while doing it, but I never got that far before she came back and started fucking me with her hand instead.

So yeah. I'm not complaining any more. At least not about not being beaten enough.

More whine

Also, I want to be tied up and beaten. Hard. So hard I would want to scream, but with a gag in my mouth so it doesn't matter.

I want it. Badly. Unfortunately, Mistress doesn't get turned on and interested in beatings and stuff when she's all stressed out and exhausted.

I'm comforting myself with beer and chocolate in the mean time.

Whine and stuff.

When the baby is sick everyone's unhappy. This working full time/studying full time and then handle the kid when she gets a cold, is tough under any circumstances. Add in me being on the verge of going back into depression and still having nowhere near my usual capacity, and Mistress getting more and more rundown by the double burden of job, commute and housework - well it doesn't work.

We get exhausted and grumpy from the effort of simply trying to get our day-to-day life to work out some how. Bleeergh.

I wish we could get a vacation. Unfortunately, what we get is half a meter of snow and -20 degrees Celsius. Just what we needed.