I have a nasty little temper sometimes. It’s actually a big temper too. And I have a potty mouth. Quite unfitting for a Christian lady.
Our D/s has helped SK be able to set and exercise limits on me. I know he does it for my good.
Now, in the privacy of our bedroom, sexy talk is fine. Dirty talk and bad-girl talk too. Sir Knight has gotten used to it and he knows this is sexy for me. Although he doesn’t automatically let fly with the four-letter words and dirty talk, he’s OK with it and is getting more comfortable.
However outside the bedroom, the potty mouth is not acceptable. Especially the F-word. Which, when it begins to fly, it seems unstoppable. Like “Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck…”
I blame the steroids. An old knee injury resurrected this week, and I was in excruciating pain. Given that we are leaving on a trip, I needed an immediate fix, and the Doc gave me a cortisone shot. Cleared that puppy right up, but oh, the side affects. Jittery, nervous, sleepless, craving carbs like crazy, flushed face… I had them all.
Meanwhile, Sir Knight has been completely taking over all the things he is good at and I am bad at. Like paying credit card bills on time. I have maintained a couple credit cards in my own name since my single years, to “keep my credit score up.” It was an emergency back up plan in case I ever found myself alone again. I make minimum charges on the cards, so much so that I’ve been dropped by one for too much inactivity. I always pay in full, and mostly on time. So when I have missed that deadline, I usually can sweet talk the card center reps into rescinding any late charges or penalties. But as SK and I have moved more earnestly into our D/s, he has taken over all the payments and financial due-diligence for our family (he’s always done the lion’s share of this). Nothing upsets SK more than late payments. Well, maybe neglecting to balance a checkbook is higher on his irritant list (which I also do not do…).
So, this month, SK wanted to get ahead of the game due to our upcoming trip, so as not to have to think about bills due upon our return. Instead of his norm of sending a check snail mail, he wanted to do the on-line payment (which is the way I’ve always done). It wasn’t working on his PC. So after a few tries, I grew impatient and said snarkily, “Oh, I’ll take care of it,” and marched to my own PC. I cavalierly punched in my passwords, set up the payment, asked SK if he happened to know what I had in my checking account (he maintained good self control over that heinous question), ignored his request to set the payment date 5 days earlier than the due date, and with a flourish hit “Submit.”
“There! All done!” I pronounced haughtily. But there was a niggling little concern in the back of my brain that I hadn’t actually hit submit before exiting the payment page. So I went back in to check. No payment pending was showing. Nothing in my email confirming. Damn. So I tried again. I kept getting confusing error messages. SK was talking to me, even asking me if I set the date for the 15 instead of the 20. I retorted that had not (direct defiance). When the error messages kept popping up, the F word went flying and my temper mounted.
“Hey, hey, I don’t want to hear that word,” SK reminded me sternly.
“Well, it’s just that this stupid thing is not making sense…” He knew in my mind I was blaming him for all this, of course. “Can’t you just send that payment in the mail like you have been?” I retorted testily. “Why are you so obsessed with getting it in early?”
He gave me THE LOOK at my bitchy attitude, but patiently advised me to exit the site, re-log in, and see if the payment had posted.
“Now, you will apologize for your temper, and for the F-word. In the bedroom, it’s fine. But you can’t just throw it out there whenever. Come here, you’re getting your bottom paddled.”
Taken in Hand.
And that is how it’s done, This Thing We Do.
Hello blog world friends!
Yes, it’s been a while since I’ve been here. The earlier part of January I spent some time on getting the “new blog” started. And then things came to a screeching halt.
And, well, there was today. This past week. I feel like a whirling dervish of emotions.
I voluntarily took on a full-time temporary position in my field (an area in which I spent 22 years). I am ranked “highly qualified” in my field. I unknowingly came into a hot mess, as the person I was filling in for had not done her job. As per my normal perfectionist standards and my heart for this field of work, I thought I’d rectify all that was wrong with the world in my short, temporary stint. I stressed that the clientele weren’t being well served. Because of a glitch in the system, I’m being paid 40% less than I had anticipated, thus earning perhaps a few cents more than minimum wage for a professional-level position that requires a college degree and special licenses. It is also a physically strenuous position with few breaks. You are “on” for hours straight, you don’t have the option to walk away at will, even for a bathroom break. Other staff around me seem very relieved and grateful I’m here. But all in all it’s just a nightmare. I’m exhausted every day, to the point of tears. And SK has been lovely, sweet, understanding, when he could have said, “Why the HELL did you take this on?” He tried to arrange for meals by using gift cards we had.
Said job has prevented me from going to daily yoga, or ANY yoga. I get on my mat at home each evening and try to do a few moves, meditate, but barely 15 minutes worth. I miss my ohhhhmmmm.
There have been mystery pains, where I wake up with excruciating elbow, wrist, and hand pain… tendonitis? Carpel Tunnel? I’ve taken to wearing my wrist braces to bed again… and no, they are not sexy like cuffs. And, my time on the keyboard actually has decreased.
Then there’s the whole matter of how SK and I have let our regular communication times slip. This is one area I think I have to repeat the lesson over and over again. WE MUST SCHEDULE WEEKLY COMMUNICATIONS NO MATTER WHAT! NO MATTER HOW “WELL” WE THINK WE ARE DOING. Calm honesty beats the vomiting of stored-up feelings or conflict-avoidance any day. I did my “soda can explosion” today on him. Just spewed out every frustration that had been building up over the past several months and the poor man did all he could to just brace himself. Not that some of my issues weren’t legit, it’s just the way in which it all came spewing out. It included every regret I’ve felt over the past 23 years. Words like “maybe it will be good for us to spend some time apart…” Oops. That was bad. Why don’t’ we learn our lesson on regular communications? We fortunately ended things on a calmer and more friendly note with my apologies for my attitude, yes, some excuses, and plans for communicating better. But it put a major wedge in plans for intimacy today. We postponed until tomorrow. And alas, SK still does not feel at ease enough with his role as Dominant Knight when the fire-breathing dragon shows her wrath. I am sure being taken over his knee and soundly spanked/whipped/flogged would have helped me a lot. It’s just not his way of addressing conflict.
We’ve booked a wonderful trip, however since we did it last minute there are no excursions left to choose. There are worse things than vegging out on a vacation I suppose, but Ms. Wanderlust here has never met a port or country she doesn’t want to explore to its fullest. This is definitely a first-world problem and I have no right to complain, I know.
All this has caused me to decline into the valley of orange comfort foods. I don’t know why, but orange is my comfort food go-to. Rarely is it an actual real fruit or vegetable I reach for. Brown is also in this comfort food group, aka Chocolate. This usually leads to “Fuck this avoiding carbs and sugar” mentality and attacking Pho (yummy Vietnamese noodle soup), pasta and bread.
I also spent some weeks doing final edits on Books 1 and 2 of Omani Destiny, finished the cover art, and am working on the synopses for the Kindle descriptions. I so much want to be through with the task of uploading, where I know I’ll meet my technological limits (formatting for web; images for cover, etc). I WILL get this published!!!!!
Thus, writing a public blog and coming off like I have my act together just hasn’t been in the cards. I know, I know, it’s my honesty and candor about being less than perfect that my readers enjoy, but sometimes I’m not ready to be imperfect to the world and to people I know well.
I have a million and one things I ought to be doing right now, but I need to write like I need to breath.
I have not forgotten a single one of you who have emailed me, and beg your indulgence. Thank you for your support and patience with me. My life will not “even out” here for several more weeks. Hopefully by the end of February I will have a moment to catch my breath, and screw up the courage to be honest and vulnerable on the “other blog” (LOL, 3 readers have found it… but as I’ve put little else than my story, it remains unread and without comments or followers for the most part).
I’ll no doubt be back to “spew” here again, and thank you for taking the time to stop by and/or respond and/or care.
Hugs to you all!!! <3 <3
I am a panty addict. As much as I do not like Victoria Secret marketing, catalogs, attention to unrealistic body image, or pouty anorexic models, I have to admit I love their stuff. When I lost enough weight to actually fit into their larges (and sometimes mediums) I enjoyed tossing the granny panties and picking out feminine, sexy new ones. I wait for their sales, and never hesitate to return something that doesn’t fit right (mostly bras). One reason to wash lingerie you order before wearing!!!
I’m under no illusion that I look anything like those models. However, I do feel pretty when I’ve got a nicely matched set of lingerie on. Ruched back and lace backs are particularly cute. The heart bra has to go back for a DD (whoa…) as the D didn’t quite accommodate the girls.
Sir Knight really doesn’t care. His preference is “all off,” please and thank you. It’s a major waste of time and money in his book. I wish he were more visual and that he liked looking at them (on me), but he’s made a nice attempt at acting appreciative because he knows I like feeling pretty and sexy in frilly and lacy little nothings. And given that I often cannot figure out how to get thongs on, there only is one (sorry, I’ve never enjoyed digging that string out of my cleft, and frankly I feel anything other than smooth, muscular globes for buttocks do not good thong material make. Yeah, even when it comes down to VPL in yoga pants… news flash, you can see cellulite through yoga pants… just sayin).
So in honor of Sir Knight, and my obsession with panties, I present my 8 days of Valentines line-up! Pretty spankable, me thinks.
What will you be doing for your Sir?
The new blog has got some background on it now, a wonderful plan of action for topics I intend to address, and I’m ready to get it active, and share its vitals with those of you who have emailed me (email@example.com ). I have been sincerely touched by the many of you who have said extraordinarily kind things.
But it’s a morning like today that gives me pause at giving this blog up. Because something so authentic to This Thing We Do (TTWD) happened, which is something I will NOT be able to openly share on the other blog.
(Please don’t despair, SK; I’m still going ahead with the plan)
I don’t know what it was… maybe because suddenly the house is empty again after a very nice last Christmas with our family in our home (be careful what you wish for); or that we went through a lifetime of Christmas ornaments and decorations and purged (I collected things from all my travels that I used to put on my tree, it evokes strong memories); or that I finally took the Christmas tree down today and we’re giving it away to have one less thing to move; or maybe it’s because I didn’t go to sleep until 2:00am -ish last night… and woke at 7:45 to make it to yoga. Getting back on the diet, trying to cut back on sugar and carbs again… I suppose there’s a whole host of “reasons” for my poor mood and snarkiness.
I got into a tiff with SK last night, and I wouldn’t let it go. He wasn’t happy about my attitude and refusal to let it go… and even a few times evoked the “just trust me and do what I’ve asked you…” He is beyond patient with me, and perhaps I do subconsciously and purposely push his buttons to get the centering I need…
God, this man is unbelievably good to me…
This morning, after several mini-tantrums and having let go of several potent strings of expletives including the F word (SK doesn’t like that one) over minor annoyances; after his patience had gone above and beyond… he surprisingly took my arm firmly, and led me to the bedroom. Wasn’t expecting that, but I willingly went, because whatever he had in mind I knew I needed. I needed his power, his dominance, his leadership, his ability to take me in hand.
He firmly bent me over and placed my hands on the bed. I was bracing for his palm, but he
took the time to pull out the leather paddle. The squishy feelings inside of you at this moment are hard to describe. There’s an element of “oh no,” there’s also a relief that he’s taking me in hand, and there’s sometimes a thrill that runs through me.
It was short and sweet and hard… I don’t even know how many, maybe only 5? Not dramatic in the least. Leggings and panties still on. I rose up on my toes, sucked my breath in, uttered a few grunts, and absorbed the stings to my posterior willingly.
He then turned me around and sat me on the bed. What now? I had no idea what his next move was.
This is what we need to feed our willing submission. To acknowledge HE is in charge and he has a plan.
“I want you to sit here quietly for 5 minutes and chill,” he said firmly, and left the room.
The tears that had been pushing against my eyeballs all morning started to leak out. I took several deep breaths. I stared down at the paddle lying next to me on the bed. I was filled with unbelievable gratitude for SK. I was still confused over my shitty mood, but oh so thankful he took me in hand and did what was necessary, even this “time out” which he’s never given before.
Little bratty me peeked out and turned to look at the bedside clock to ensure I’d not do a second more of my 5 minutes, but then I sighed and let the tears fall, not trying to analyze them, and flopped back on the bed and took deep breaths.
He came back in, and gently asked, “Are you OK now, do you need more?”
I don’t know what I said, I think I nodded-shook my head ambiguously, and croaked out a “thank you.” Yeah, I kinda did need more… and I should have said that, but I didn’t.
He hovered over me and kissed me.
Dear Lord, could I feel any more loved than this? He totally gets me…
“I want you to take it easy. I don’t want you to be stressed.”
“Thank you, thank you for knowing what I needed…”
“OK,” he smirked.
“It’s just… just…” the tears choked me again.
“It’s OK, maybe you just need a good cry. Take it easy!”
I nodded my head…”I think that maybe I’m tired from not enough sleep… or that also I want to please you and get all these tasks done…”
“It’ll get done. Don’t worry.”
Nope. The world at large isn’t ready to hear that a wife desires her husband to take her in hand, even with a paddling. I can imagine the outcry. It wouldn’t be understood by all. They’d totally miss the sense of peace and calm that it brings to some marriages. Even if I’m not suggesting this is for everyone, it would be judged. Poor SK would be judged for standing up and providing leadership and the actions that lovingly help his wife.
I will not completely kill this site. I will put it to sleep for a while, and give the new blog a chance.
But it will be difficult not to share this wonderful wisdom of Taken In Hand.
Over the past week I’ve communicated with many of you privately. I thank you so much for your support and kind words. I’m flattered you say I’ve had something to relate that is of interest to you. I’ve shared parts of me that I don’t normally share in real life. Blogging anonymously was freeing on one hand; but also dangerous in other ways. It served a purpose for my growth, questions and introspection, resulted in some great comments and sharing from readers, and perhaps inspired others. However not everyone is your friend, and quite frankly I know that things I’ve written would be judged, and perhaps harshly.
I’m about to become authentic. I’m not hiding anymore. I hope those who wish to follow my new blog will do the same. To protect myself and my family, I am asking that you personally contact me if you wish to find my new blog. The new blog is currently “under construction” and I will let you know when it’s up and running!
Just a heads up: this new blog will have a distinctive Christian tone. I will be sharing ways in which God has transformed my husband and I. There will be no explicit mention of sexual scenes, and I’m unlikely to directly address anything BDSM or even Dominant/submissive (these are clearly not directly addressed in scripture, neither prohibited nor condoned, and fall into a grey area between sexual immorality and free will, often depending on how a couple together interprets scripture). This new blog will probably come off very “PG-13,” however it is intended for committed, married adults seeking ideas on transforming or renewing marriages that have gone stale or are in trouble. The Apostle Paul had some wise words about the freedom to do as we please. He was speaking about the restrictive dietary laws and addressing the legalistic followers who wanted to judge others for not “following the rules,” however I believe his words apply to all aspects of life and morality AND sexuality:
Some of you say, “We can do whatever we want to!” But I tell you that not everything may be good or helpful. 24 We should think about others and not about ourselves. Don’t cause a problem for someone’s conscience… (You could ask,) “Why should my freedom be limited by someone else’s conscience? 30 If I give thanks (for what I eat), why should anyone accuse me of doing wrong?”
31 (And the Answer is) When you eat or drink or do anything else, always do it to honor God.32 Don’t cause problems for Jews or Greeks (this meant non-believers) or anyone else who belongs to God’s church. 33 I always try to please others instead of myself, in the hope that many of them will be saved.
As a Christian I will strive not judge others, however my beliefs and convictions could cause some to feel judged (i.e., because I’ve messed up and know better now, I personally believe that sexual relations should exclusively be practiced within a covenant, in an environment of trust, and this is where I’ll be coming from. Not everyone wants to hear this–I get it, at one point in my life I didn’t either). I also would not want SK or I to ever feel embarrassed about what I will share, expecting our Pastor, kids, parents, neighbors could read it.
I’ve assumed that since the content of Desiring Discipline does lean more to R and X rated material, often explicit, that many of my current readers may not find the new blog as engaging. I don’t intend to “preach” to anyone but it isn’t everyone’s cup of tea to consider God’s plan in their sexuality. But I’d love to tell you more about that…
All that said, please think about it and let me know by email your reasons for wanting to follow the new blog: firstname.lastname@example.org . No insult taken if not. We are all in different places in our journeys.
As for continuing Desiring Discipline, I had so much to consider. It’s hard to let it go and take it down. Some of you have made convincing and supportive arguments for keeping it active. But to have it in any way linked to a new, public blog isn’t good. It’s a risk I can’t take, and I simply don’t have time to go back and “sanitize” it and delete questionable material. I hope you can understand this. There’s a chance some of its content could be revised and posted on the new blog. You may need to trust that my new blog will continue to offer good stuff, and is truer to who I feel I am now in my journey. For that reason, as long as DD remains up (hint, not much longer), I won’t share the new site with my readers at large.
Thanks again for following my journey to date. I hope it may have helped you in some way, and I pray for the very best as you move forward and seek to find happiness and improve your own relationships.
Today I did it.
I launched my new blog page. The one where I’m me. To the world.
After 3.5 years of posting on Desiring Discipline, I have come to a conclusion that perhaps I need to head in other directions.
I have loved the freedom that blogging anonymously has afforded me. I have “met” (sadly, not in person) some amazing people through this experience. I’ve been able to explore a side to me that heretofore had seemed wrong, forbidden, condemning. I’ve learned a lot, I’ve grown a lot, and I’ve changed a lot. I’ve had an opportunity to do what I love– write– and even have my voice heard by more than 200 followers over the course of this blog. At one time, I averaged 1,000 daily views. Many comments. Many likes. Many wonderful connections with lovely people. Although we all may not share exactly the same belief systems or thoughts or even lifestyles, most of us have graciously weighed in on the big questions of This Thing We Do (TTWD). Bloggers have come and gone. Some have remained strong, and some have gone silent. Every voice was appreciated (LOL, even those of the curmudgeons).
I set goals for myself when I began this blog in 2012: 1) I am hoping I can make a 20 year marriage continue, and am searching for ways to do that; and 2) I need to become very honest with myself that I enjoy submitting to a strong man who can take me in hand, and who I trust; 3) I want to publish my writing and feel proud of it.
Although not perfectly, I feel I’ve met my goals. 1) My marriage is better than ever; 2) I have learned a lot about submission and surrender in a marriage, it’s helped me to link this with the teachings of my Christian faith, AND I now trust Sir Knight more than any other person on the face of this earth; 3) I still haven’t “published” my writing, and the concept of being proud of my very erotic fiction is still one I struggle with. However I’m poised to hit that Kindle publish button on the first 2 of my 5-book series, and hopefully will do so in January (with a goal to have the complete series up by spring-revision has never been my favorite part of the writing process). I will keep you all posted and hope that you’ll read and spread the word! I suppose though, that uploading over 635 posts and having nearly 700,000 views over the 3.5 years is something.
I put a question mark in my title because I can’t promise that I might not come back from time to time here to vent. I will continue check in and comment with many of you, because you are now part of my heart. My new blog is intended to be helpful to women who are struggling with the concepts of a submitted wife in marriage from a Christian perspective. Clearly I will honor my husband and our intimacy. I will not vent problems or issues there, nor get into graphic details of sexuality. It will be a challenge. Can I remain “authentic?” I don’t know… but it’s where I feel I’m being led.
With all this said, I want to thank every one of my WordPress friends, Desiring Discipline followers, and in particular those who have given their lovely sentiments, thoughts, hearts, friendship, and advice to me for so long… and to wish you all the best on your journeys!
Love you all, hope that 2016 is awesome!!
It started out innocently enough. I swear.
I was doing research for my novel on the origins of a name in a poem of Homer’s. Cytherea. It was an ancient name for Aphrodite. I wanted my character to have a nickname, and there really weren’t any good ones for Aphrodite. Cytherea on the other hand had several possibilities.
Google also turns up that Cytherea is apparently a porn star famed for her gushing videos. And getting pounded for like 20 minutes straight.
I really did try to look away. Kinda. I mean, curiosity and all. For educational purposes alone, right?
OK, I know porn is bad, or at least it can lead to some unhealthy addictions and unrealistic expectations of our partners. I’ve been trying to avoid it, to avoid having the images imprinted in my brain. SK doesn’t like it, he always says that he thinks that it’s someone’s daughter, sister, mother, wife… it’s exploitational and demeaning to women. I mean, he’s right. I know I’m grateful he’s not watching it or addicted to it. I suppose that my view is that as long as it’s consensual, no one is being harmed, right? And geez, some really look as if they are having a great time. But we don’t watch porn as a couple, although he came to watch 50 Shades with me. Sometimes I wish we did, and to that end I’m trying to convince SK to try a few oldies but goodies… Emmanuelle, The Secretary… Maybe The Story of O (which these days actually isn’t as hot as I found it 30+ years ago). He’s not said no, but he’s never made any proactive moves in that direction. What can I say? He’s a decent guy without a trace of sleaze.
And there always is this very daring, naughty, push-the-envelope side of me that I can never lock down 100%.
I digress. Before I knew it, there was a noticeable build up of arousal in my panties. I mean sloshing. Pulsating. Like, oh my gosh, if the kids weren’t all home I’d be attacking SK RIGHT NOW.
Now, you have to understand that for the past year or so, lube has been my best friend in the bedroom, right up there with “our little friend” the Sensuelle Point mini vibe (reminds me, I need to order a back up). I just figured that I’d gotten to that inevitable point in life where my own lubrication had just stopped working as dependably. It was hard to face initially, but like all things in life, you stay grateful for what you DO have, that we live in a free-market economy and even the local grocery store stocks a wide variety of lubes and no one really blinks an eye when they scan it along with your eggs, milk, and peanut butter (and well, coconut oil is a pretty good lube). And I have wonderful hot sex with with my husband, with the aid of lube, our vibe, and little blue pills. No shame. We are keeping it alive and well any way we can. We’ve brought many new things into our sexual encounters that enhance our pleasure.
And yes, sometimes it really involves a lot of patience and time. My motor doesn’t start as fast, warm up as fast, and sometimes orgasms are elusive. Sometimes the vibe can’t even touch my “sweet spot.” It all feels good, but sometimes the Os hide. But as SK will say, there’s no bad pizza (is there frustrating pizza?). Every moment of loving that we have is great. Any opportunity for kink is just icing on our cake. Or maybe that’s whipped cream?
Digressing again… As I squirmed in my desk chair and furtively glanced around to make sure I wasn’t being watched, I quickly cleared my browser history, and made my way to our bedroom for the afternoon nap I had
mentioned taking. The football game was loudly entertaining SK et al. Lights off, shutters drawn, door closed and blanket over me, I reached into my yoga pants to find I indeed was very wet. Slicker and wetter than in a long while. I wanted to analyze this phenomenon further… but not before I tested my actual level of arousal… Initially all it took was slipping the mini vibe inside my panties and I was off to the races in less than a minute flat.
Approximately 10 orgasms later, I MADE myself stop. I could have gone on, but my head talk was really starting to interfere, big time (not to mention my heart was racing scary fast).
And I fell into the most blissful and relaxed slumber I’ve had in a long while (I don’t do naps well, normally, my brain is too busy).
I am trying to figure out why porn does it for me. I don’t feel it’s horrible, nor do I feel guilty. I mean, I’m not even really looking at the guys… I’m just turned on by the action, the girl getting off. Well, and yeah, getting fucked for 20 minutes straight every which way isn’t bad either (I do fast forward a lot). And the gushing. Which I used to do, and oh, man, I know how great that feels. I was resigned to put this one in my memory books.
The trouble is, this “accidental arousal” just whets my appetite for more… And gives me a somewhat troubling realization that I’ve still got it going on… in certain circumstances.
Does porn have any place in a committed, monogamous marriage?