Up All Night

I was told to write yesterday and I failed. It was a truly challenging day with my son. The past few months of the teen years have been almost more than I can handle. He has some emotional problems and I’m spending a lot of time managing his doctors and treatments and, well, it’s really hard. He had anxiety all day yesterday. It was different in that most days there is an episode or challenges but not a whole days worth of it.

Daddy and I had a great adult weekend last weekend. We had time to play. Even though his knee has been hurting him, he still set out all the toys and took care of me. He is so good to me.

I know he wants to hear my thoughts on that play. He was leaving on a plane and sent me a text stating that I must write for him. Not that I had to write something specific but that it had to be yesterday. I accepted the order. I knew he was doing it for me after all. Over the last few months, I’ve realized the submissive part of our relationship is much more something I wanted and not so much something he craved. I think it is fun for him but not necessary.

Daddy wasn’t here to see how all consuming my son was throughout the evening. I ended up falling asleep with my son tucking me in and going back to his room. He was finally calm and I was out. I completely lost focus of Daddy’s command.

In the morning, I woke to Daddy being very upset with me…disappointed, he texted. I broke. The man gives me one command in months and I failed completely. He may not need a submissive but I know he wants me to write. He drops pointed comments often enough that I know how he misses it. I felt my heart drop to my feet. I love him so much and yet I can’t do a simple thing when he asks.

I didn’t even know how to respond. You can’t make proper amends by apologizing again for a repeated bad behavior. Who cares to hear that? No one.

So, here I am writing. I spent my one night alone in the house cleaning everything I never have time to clean. I’m so tired of not getting those things done. It was cathartic. At least the place smells better.

So, one thing at a time. Today I write, tomorrow I’ll sleep.

Four And Two

      Four days since I last wrote, two days until I see Daddy!  Woo!
      Getting on a plane, packing some essentials. Daddy says it’s brrr cold there so I have to pack ALL the things.  I told him he is my warmth.  I plan on being glued to that man for four days solid.   Mmmm

      I need to button up some things here before I go.  Like, when’s the last time I shaved?  Okay, I’m not a Shar-Pei but it’s been a few days.  I need to pack and make sure the house is ready for when we return. 

      I have zero energy at the moment. I get home from work and I’m fighting sleep the whole evening.  It really sucks for getting anything productive done.  Not sure what that’s all about.  I had steak twice to get my iron up.  No idea. 

      I’m snuggled up in bed and it’s so cold I don’t want to get up yet.  The cat is even under the covers it’s so cold.

      Okay, time to get on with the day.  Hugs Kinky Peeps.

      Beginning

      My goal for today is to post each day.  Even if it’s just a few words.

      Seasoned writers say, just get it on the page.  It may not be pretty or polished but that’s not the point.  The point is to be consistent. That is my lesson here.  Consistent dedication to my goals is my challenge.  So, this is today’s beginning. 

      Writing a blog about a Dominant submissive relationship when it is going to become a long distance relationship is going to stretch my skills…as well as stretching my emotions and everything else that goes along with this. 

      As long as I keep writing, I can get through this.  We can get through this.  I will continue to be as open as possible.  Writing will help us stay connected, stay bonded.  I will do whatever it takes to keep us together.  This is the beginning. 

      Can’t Wait

      I’m heading home tomorrow morning. I haven’t seen Daddy in many days and I’m so excited to see him. 

      I can’t think about him too much or I’ll start getting sappy sad.  Still a whole state away from Daddy and one more night, ugh.  Soon, very soon.

      We will go on vacation together on Wedsnesday.  We are going to have some kinky hotel fun (I hope :D).  We’ll also see our kinky family, yay! 

      Come on tomorrow, get here soon.

      Daddy’s Day

      I love Mr. D so much.  We have change coming.  Daddy had been offered a job in another state.  He found out about it on Friday.  It is a great opportunity.  He’s been in many states, I’ve always lived in one place.  He is my life now.  Where ever we go, we go together. 

      This morning while we were having sex Daddy said, “We are one. Say it.”

      “We are one Daddy.”

      “That’s right.”

      I love him desperately, wholly and always.  I have not had a love like this before.  

      I think of myself as strong.  I can do anything, handle whatever comes.  I worry about the loves in my life.  I want Daddy fulfilled, I want my son happy and growing into a man and I want all my family happy and around me.

      This Father’s Day I will honor my Father and Daddy in different ways.  My Dad will have his kids around him and my cooking.  Daddy will have me.  I will be his and take a deep breath and we’ll figure out where our lives go next…together.

      His Thoughts

      Where do I start?

      The dirty perverted things in my head have come to fruition because she is willing to make the effort and enjoy the journey.  The hiding of my demons and desires is in my past. My life has been iluminated in the dark.  I love the dark corners of my mind.  The little pitfalls and playthings of my imagination.   It is sublimely freeing.  I don’t jump to every desire but I explore them all with a focus on safety and return on investment.  Returns come in many ways…sexual gratification, wall climbing mind numbing subspace, creating opportunities,  financial, and personal desire. 
      Damn.  I get hot thinking of her and the life we lead.  The freedom and the opportunity are enough to distract my every moment.  Waking or sleeping she consumes my moments, my heart, and my focus.   I crave the chances to hear her gasp.  To see her head roll back. To feel her pulse quicken.  To make her wet.  To leave a mark.  And to have her snuggle up and get lost running her hands over me.   I am never so amazingly focused as when she is stroking my chest, arms, face, and cock.  

      She is the most giving and loving person I have ever met.  She is an angel on earth.   Of course it is my happiest moments when her halo is used as my cock ring and I am taking her to the dirtiest of places…  She is inspiration.  She is my muse and she is mine.   All mine.  I am hers.  

      Remembering

      Because I haven’t written in a while, I have a backlog of thoughts and memories jumbled in my mind. Daddy and I played many times during the last two weeks I just didn’t document it.  So, my mind is full and I need to purge onto the page.  It is a very odd sensation but it is as if all that’s happened stays in a holding tank until I write.  

      I keep it all in mind and it begins to morph into an alphabet soup.  I start becoming worried that I have forgotten everything.  But I do my best to set aside the fear and begin.  I pull one thread and slowly it unravels.  Soon I have words for you and a nice neat ball of string.

      I worried about forgetting this past week while I still wasn’t writing.  Last night I finally wrote and only about last night.  Fresh memories…so easy, so present.  Now I feel the tugging of the string because an end was found.

      19 Days

      It has been 19 days since I last wrote.  It is probably the longest dry spell since I began writing for Mr. D.  It has been far too long.

      My mother passed away.  Amidst the grieving and planning her funeral and memorial, I lost my drive.  Not just the drive to write but the drive to do much of anything.  I think it was the pendulum swing from over-worked, over-focused on caring for a loved one, and pretty much an over-filled life. I dropped down a rabbit hole of ‘I don’t want to work and I don’t want to do anything.’

      After her memorial, the Monday after, my need to get things done finally came back to me.  I worked through my desk with a singleminded drive that was infused into my psyche.  I spent a solid week and came out with a pristine desk and a real do-to list of valid projects to carry my company to Christmas.  That felt amazing.

      Then I took two weeks off.  I’m on day three of my vacation.  I have worked solidly in the same manner on home projects.  I had a massive volunteer project that languished while mom was ill. I had to wrap that up and I turned it all over today.  Finally, my plate is much less full. 

      This evening I showered and dressed for Mr. D.  The only thing on my plate was serving him.  It felt good, it felt like I was home after so long. We have had our time together through all this and Mr. D has been incredibly supportive.  But today I feel like I can breathe and that I can return to being focused on us…on our dynamic again.

      Need

      Rambling Again

      Lust, desire unabated
      Longing coursing through me
      Staunchly checked
      Biding time until she is with me
      Biting my tongue
      Never pressuring her for time
      Constrained is her world
      Time is limited
      Responsibilities demanding
      I am her down time
      Her solace and respite
      I miss her presence
      I want her laughter; her light
      I find things to occupy me
      Yet always the onus is on her
      But I defer
      No pressure, never that
      In her time
      I look at her pictures
      I read her words
      I close my eyes and taste her
      I sense her touch with my mind
      And wait…
      It is always the same when she comes to me
      She appears and within minutes I take her
      Claiming her mine and marking her
      Ensuring my scent is on her
      Only then am I able to escape the longing and need
      I drink deeply from her and am refreshed
      Realization…
      I am dehydrated, parched, or desperately thirsty
      Quench me Lover, please

      Pain

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      Do you like your submission with a dose of pain?  What does the pain do to put us into sub space?  Does it send you flying or does it bring you fully back to earth?  I think the answer is different for each person.

      Mr. D and I talked a little about letting go last night.  About what I meant by wanting to let go in the Skirting the Edge post.  I have a twofold answer to the question of how I’d like to let go.  First, I’d like to experience emotional letting go.  To communicate more freely, to not worry about what is going on in the other person’s head so much, but to honestly communicate and let the chips fall where they may.  Part of this means letting loose verbally and also in action during a scene.  What is it that would allow me to do that?  Is it only permission I need?  Or is it something inside me that needs to change?  I believe to it is both. 

      When I need to communicate about something difficult, live and in person, I find myself freezing up.  I feel the silence lengthening and suffocating me from all sides.  It is as if I’m in a bubble of viscous clouds and the more I punch at it the further the edges retreat and the more alone I am inside.  But it is only me doing that.  It is so frustrating.  There is a crucial build up of discomfort in that state and eventually it is more painful not to talk than to face it.  But why go through that turmoil?  I’m still working on that one. 

      Anaïs Nin: “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

      I emulate this quote more now that I’m in the midst of the discovery, finally.  Now that I have a taste of what is possible, I will not go back in that damned bud.  Not for nothing.

      The other letting go, the part having to do with the pain is something different.  I haven’t gone there yet, but I have this thought about catharsis that leads me towards pain as an answer.  I think that if I were brought to a place with pain, a place where my psyche was overwhelmed by the sensation of the pain, that I would let go emotionally.  That I would then be able to drop all the multitudes of thought and refuse that floats around in my mind and be allowed to just experience the sensation and feelings.  That is how I think about sub-space.  Am I right about that?  I’m not sure.

      I do know Mr. D has brought me to that place through some of the things he’s done and not necessarily through pain.  So, perhaps I’m off base.  I don’t know.  But I feel a need to explore this lifestyle, to explore my feelings through it, to push the envelope.  I’m very fortunate to have found Mr. D to walk with on this path.