15224320290_3fb112b74d_hYesterday, I texted Mr. D that after having to make some hard decisions about my parent in the hospital, I was feeling fragile.  I was scheduled to be with him all this weekend and wasn’t sure how I would be. I had felt like crying off and on all day Friday and held it together for work and child but when you don’t have any downtime you don’t have any time to grieve.

When I got to his place, I found out that he had shopped and cooked all afternoon so that we had dinner and food for the weekend.  He didn’t want to leave anything to chance, not having been through a ‘fragile’ time with me.  I love this man so much.  I was deeply touched that he put so much effort in making sure everything was perfect for me.  I didn’t have to think of anything.  I walked in and he had dinner ready for us.

A dear friend had run errands for me and made my prep time before coming to Mr. D’s much easier.  Instead of running around, I was done early and had a chance to dress in sexy clothes for Mr. D.  I have felt bad that lately I’ve been so immersed in hospital life that I have shirked my desire to be beautiful for him. So, I had a relaxing shower and put on a sexy outfit for Mr. D.  I did my makeup and felt like his girl inside out. (He took pics, maybe I’ll share them if I get to see them.)

After dinner he said he had something planned. He had me strip and sit in the middle of the bed. He turned the lights down and put on this amazing Japanese instrumental music. It was reed flutes and drums, gorgeous emotionally stimulating and sensual music. Then he sat behind me so that I leaned up against his body. He had a mask on me but decided against it and just told me to keep my eyes closed. I felt his warmth and his body supporting mine.  I could smell the heady scent of candles.  Then I felt rope.

It trailed across my naked skin.  First across my neck, then down my chest until it encircled a breast.  The atmosphere and his touch consumed and lulled my mind.  My eyes were closed so I felt every touch of his hands and the rope on me, controlling me.  He trailed the across my belly and down my body.  Then it was around my wrists, binding my hands together.  One place after another on my body felt the touch of the rope.  His hands on my neck lifting my chin then the rope would restrict me there.  Each place would feel the rope then be released.  His hands and the rope were seducing me into a soft place where I floated within the circle of care.  His voice, his touch, his control were my everything.

He was the touchstone to my need, he fulfilled the desire I did not know I had.

To watch this method of rope play, look here.

Image from breathtakingly through CC2.0 with attribution and found on Flickr.



Last night I was a bad girl.  Not on purpose.  I hear that term, “she was a bad girl”and I know these days it’s used more as a joke.  Dirty girl, playful, teasing, bratty sub.  No, not like that.  I have thought long and hard about being submissive and, though I can be a very playful person, this I take very seriously.  My personal thought is that by being a good girl, you reap the rewards of a good Master.  A Master who is pleased with you and ultimately served by your goodness and joy in service will give you what you crave….what you need.  It may not even be what you think you need.  That’s the point, really.  He is Master, it is his choice and his responsibility to lead.  My responsibility is to follow and to understand that he knows what I need and when.  Being the bratty sub is a cop out.  It is not following or serving in the true sense.  So, stepping off my soapbox, I’ll tell you how I was bad.

I had a long and busy day, but I was so excited yesterday knowing that I would be with Mr. D…finally.  We had a whole weekend ahead of us and it was to start Friday night.  I wanted to serve him and take care of him.  I feel so grateful for his patience with my life and how much we have been apart lately.  I wanted to pamper him like he has pampered me.  I got home, ran to the store, came home and made lasagna.  As soon as it was in the oven, I jumped in the shower, put on a pretty dress and packed.  After taking care of other life details so I could leave home for the weekend, I packed myself and dinner into the car.  I had a little breathing time on the drive.  I love driving for that.  It gives me the time to take a breath and wind down which I don’t seem to allow myself any other time.

When I arrived at Mr. D’s place I put everything in the kitchen, put the lasagna in the oven and went in to greet him.  I was so happy to see him and bask in his presence.  We talked, we caught up and then I went back into the kitchen to finish the garlic bread and serve our dinner. We sat and ate and talked more.  After cleaning up, he said we would retire to his room.

I went to the bathroom and took off my dress.  I wanted to be naked for him. I came out of the bathroom and I felt a change.  He was commanding, I could see by his look that he would accept nothing but my complete acquiescence.

“Get on the bed and lie face down.” He spoke softly with full authority.

I did as he said immediately.  I wouldn’t want to know what would happen if I didn’t. His body pressed me down into the mattress. His hand went under my face and around my neck.  He squeezed tightly on my neck.  He had my complete and undivided attention.  My hair covered my face, my eyes were wide.  All I could sense was him.  His hot breath was at my ear.

“Your were a bad girl tonight and you will be punished.  Do you understand?”

My breath came in ragged gasps as his big hand constricted my windpipe.  Suddenly, I knew he was right.  I had been bad. I had forgotten to kneel to him when arriving at his home.  Damn, how could I forget?  I had wanted so much to please him and yet I had failed miserably.

“Yes, Daddy, I understand”.

“Do you now what you did wrong?”

“Yes, Daddy, I didn’t greet you properly.” My heart sank.  Not because I was to be punished but because I had failed to please. His breath in my ear and his hand on my throat were so harsh, so threatening, yet so heady and intoxicating.

His other hand caressed my exposed, ass.  I tried to calm my breathing but I couldn’t. I knew what was coming.  Mr. D doesn’t tease.  He delivers authentically. His hand lifted up and came down with a hard stinging swat to my left butt cheek.  The sting was intense.  No warm-up, no toying with me.  This was punishment not play. He immediately moved to a slap just as hard to the other cheek.  Two or three swats to each side of my ass and it was on fire.  I squirmed this way and that to escape.

“Keep squirming baby girl, that’s cute. I like it, but you aren’t getting away from this.  Spread your legs.” His fingers pushed between my legs, rubbing my clit hard and then pushing deep inside me.  It was shocking, coming so fast, my ass still burning but it made me moan so loud with the intensity.  As soon as I started to turn to putty in his hands I felt his palm on my ass again.  His hand squeezed around my neck and he began to spank me hard again.  The sting was so raw, so much so that I wanted to run, I wanted to beg him to stop.  I held onto his hand around my throat for support, for an anchor.  I was tossed about on a wave of pain.

His hand pulled back and his fingers pushed inside me again. Just as quickly they pulled back out and his palm caressed my burning ass cheeks.  He was toying with me now.  I know he was talking to me but I have no recollection what he said.  My mind was in turmoil.  His whisper heated my ear, his hand choked my throat, his other hand began to spank all over the entirety of my ass in little warm-up spanks.  It gave me a very small chance to slow down my breathing.  I knew more was to come and I wanted to be able to take it.  I took a breath and closed my eyes.

Just as soon as I took that breath he began to spank me in earnest again.  It stung so bad, I cried out.  I couldn’t help it.  “No Daddy, please.” I said it over and over as the biting sting of his hand tormented my ass.  I tried to say it under my breath but I desperately needed to beg for it to stop.  He pulled me up by my neck and stopped spanking for a moment.

His fingers plunged inside me again.  “Mmm, you are so wet.  Daddy likes that.”  He fingered me a minute and whispered in my ear while I moaned.

‘”Little girl, I know you want more punishment, don’t you?”  He knew damned well I didn’t but he wanted in my head.  “In a minute, you are going to beg for it for me.”

Anything but that.  In that state, I wanted nothing except for him to stop.  He knew.  But he wanted me to beg for more and knew the torture of that.  I tried to speak, I opened my mouth but I just couldn’t speak the words.

“Beg for it Bitch!” His words spat out over me.

“Please Daddy….spank me.” Oh God, not more, I can’t take any more!  I scrunched my eyes closed and held onto his arm and his other hand punished my ass hard and fast one last time.  The pain was intense, my ass was throbbing.  Then he was on top of me, positioning himself over me.  He raised me up on my knees and pushed his hard cock deep inside me.  I needed him inside me so bad by then.  I cried out with the pleasure of feeling his hardness plumbing me, his body covering mine.  He filled me for a few strokes then flipped me over.

“I want to see you.” He said.  By then, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t do anything but what he wanted.  I wrapped my legs around him and looked up into his eyes.  He plunged his cock deep inside me and I writhed as he fucked he deep and hard.    His eyes pierced my soul as I felt his cock stretch me wide.  I vibrated around him as I felt his orgasm roll over us both.  His deep voice filled me with joy and I heard his pleasure and his release.   I felt so fully sated and full of joy when he fell on top of me.

The last thought I had as I fell asleep last night was that I’ve never been so divided.  When he was spanking me it hurt so much and I only wanted it to stop. But when it stopped, I wondered when it would start again and wanted more.  I’ve never felt so torn.  I’ve been spanked before but never like Mr. D spanks me.  It’s real, it’s visceral, it hurts.  It also burns a fire within me for him and for more.

Getting Back on the Horse


Very rarely writing is like going to the gym.  Instead of that feeling that pulls you viscerally towards the keyboard, you know you should write and yet the drive to get you moving just isn’t there.  Everything I think to write just flits right back out of my head or sounds old, tired, overdone.

So, here I sit.  Typing and not writing anything of substance.  Where is my fire? It flew away on the winds of life in the real world.  Life in the world of serving a Master can’t happen much when you are spending the majority of time in the life of a mom and working professional.

I do have some wonderful memories from the past several weeks to share.  Mr. D starting having me honor him with a ritual greeting when I arrive in his presence.  He only gave me the ritual when I come to his home. I kneel in his room and wait to be acknowledged, then I may look up and greet him.  It has served to put me in a submissive mindset from the moment I arrive at his place.  Now, I find myself kneeling to him in other ways and places just because I love to honor him that way and it makes me feel my submission all the more strongly.

Mr. D has learned some of my triggers and is using these to illicit my desire when he wishes now.  He has found out that my neck is very sensitive.  Any pressure, whether grabbing my throat, choking me, or grabbing my hair sends me quickly into a place I love to be.  Is it sub-space?  I don’t know.  I’m not really sure what it is really. I think sub-space is more supposed to be a floating, disconnected place you feel after or during serious play. But maybe it is a pre-cursor of that.  All I know is that when he pays attention to my neck and throat area I begin to melt, to feel short of breath, my eyes begin to glaze over and he can pretty much do whatever he wants with me.  I can’t explain it beyond that.  It pulls me right out of myself and all I focus on is him and his touch on me.  Sighs

He did that today.  We had a very relaxing morning and afternoon.  We shopped for him and then he took me to lunch.  We got back to my place and were sitting on the couch, he was playing with the dog.  My pup loves him…loves his attention.  I can’t blame him.  At one point though, he began to trail the lightest touch on my leg.  It tickled so I grabbed his hand.  He gave me this look that said in no uncertain terms to allow him to continue.  I let go.  I bared it for a minute and grabbed his hand again.  He was being playful and yet I felt him controlling me, controlling the action.  I let go.  I felt my body begin to react to his feather touch.  It stopped being ticklish.  He began to run that feather touch up around my throat.  Damn, I wanted him.  My breath became short, all I wanted was more of him.  He can switch on the Dominance so easily.  It just simmers there and is at his ready command.  I love how he is so gentle and kind and deferential until he’s not.  Then I melt.

Image used under Creative Commons Public Domain from Pixabay.

The Dark Side

rapeI posted Mr. D’s words for two reasons.  I want to have a running commentary and history here of our experiences growing in this lifestyle.  I also want to see his words and feel his touch within them as part of my world.  So, I don’t post everything he writes of us or for me but I will post what he writes that I think is relevant to the story. I don’t plan on posting everything I write or experience either.  As public as this exploration is in this venue, it is our private world and some things are only for us.  With that said, I want to share the rest of our Friday evening.

After we returned home from the beach, we had settled down a bit from the excitement we had there.  The passion was simmering in the background.  When we arrived, we said our hellos to my roommate and ate the chocolates we bought earlier.  As I sat there next to him, listening to them talk and savoring my treat, I knew I wanted him in earnest.  I rose and went to the bedroom.  I took off all my clothes except for the lacy, red panties I had bought for the evening.  They were G-strings with a tiny gauze skirt attached and the back of the G formed a V to frame out the derriere.  I love how they looked.  I’ll find a picture of them for you in a moment.

Mr. D followed to the bedroom almost immediately.  I think he was far more polite to my roommate than had been my unexpected departure.  I had other things than manners on my mind.  He came into the room and I saw raw passion in his gaze.  I love that feeling of him ravishing me with his eyes.  He took in the red lace and told me how much he liked seeing them under the moonlight at the monument.

I met him at the bottom of the bed.  I wanted him to bend me over the bed the way he’d bent me over the cement outside.  I wanted to feel as if we had continued with no break, as if no intruders had chased us away from that secluded spot.  But as he bent me over and pushed inside me, it felt as if his manhood had grown twice the size.  I felt like he would split me in two.  I don’t know if it was the position or my body being at the end of its stamina, but I just couldn’t stay in that position.  I was tormented.  I wanted him but my body was rebelling.  Before Mr. D arrived on the scene, it had been a good year and a half since I’d had sex.  Going from no sex at all to more sex than I’ve ever had has done a number on my body.  At first, I was loving the tiredness in my body, the feel of his mark on me….but at that moment at the end of the bed I was dismayed that my body was being a traitor to my desires.

He looked questioningly at me as I turned and scooted up onto the bed.  I laid on my back to accept him between my legs but immediately thought better of that position.  My groin muscles had been crying at me that morning while we were together.  Damn it all, I needed another way.  I shifted my body so that I was on my side trying for something else.  Right about then I heard deep male laughter.  Mr. D was chuckling to himself watching me go through these rapid shifting positions.

“Poor little girl wants Daddy so bad she doesn’t know what she wants.”  At that precise moment I was tortured but I laughed in spite of myself.  Yes, dammit, that’s exactly it.  He pegs me every time.  How on earth does he read my mind when I’m having a hard time figuring it out myself?

At this point I can’t remember what position we ended up in but I was happy he chose and pushed inside me.  I can’t describe properly how amazing he feels inside me.  It just takes me away.  He felt so good and pushed me past the discomfort into the pleasure.  We were heavy into it and Mr. D was changing angles several times, slowing and then increasing speed.  At some point, we stopped and took a break.  Neither one of us was coming near the edge and I think both of us were feeling body fatigue.

We had used each other up completely on the past weekend.  After I got home, I still couldn’t believe we’d had sex as many times as we had over those days.  Monday morning arrived and I had been kicked a week ahead into my period.  At first, I really thought maybe something was wrong and I was bleeding.  But, I realized the next day that it was just my period and I was still uncomfortable from all the activity.

So, here it is, a few days later and we’re having sex again.  On Thursday, I was feeling the effects and even though I wanted him badly it was the middle of my period and my body was yelling at me.  I was not in my best form.  My body was not giving me that smooth glide of wetness that usually comes so immediately when he enters me.  Mr. D had started back to the gym that day after an extended break because of having an appendectomy.  Needless to say, we were both a bit sore.

At that point I wondered if we were done and going to give up for the evening.  It sucks when your body will not behave.  I started back to the gym myself recently for this very reason.  I need to be more responsive and strong for this, for him.

Honestly, I don’t know what happened then.  Something switched in Mr. D.  We were lying on the bed together, snuggling.  Then as I was caressing him I found his manhood in my hands and leaned down to taste him. I don’t remember if we were talking before that. But I could see that he had changed.  A darkness had come over him.  He put his hands on my neck and I felt the pressure of his grip on me.  It wasn’t hard enough to choke me or hurt me really but it gave me the crystal clear understanding that he was dominating me.  I gasped and immediately felt a wash of something come over me.  I heard myself panting almost as if I was outside watching.  I couldn’t control myself at all.  I was swept completely away by the darkness in his eyes, his dominance exerting itself on me, and his hands pressing harder and tighter on my neck.  Oh God, I wanted him so badly in that moment.  I lost myself in the feeling of him dominating me.  He continued to choke me and I was pressed hard under his weight.  I know he spoke, I think he told me how I was his, but I have no clear memory of it.  I just remember his hands, his eyes and his dominance.  It filled me with the dark passion as nothing ever has.  I wanted for nothing, I was just there for him to receive what he gave.  He flipped me over and told me to arch my back and raise my ass up.  He mounted me from behind and pushed his manhood between my closed thighs piercing my sex wide from behind.  He pumped into me that way and I felt his palms press me into the bed at the shoulders.  It was fast, it was raw and I was so gone.

After only a few minutes I heard him say, “I’m sorry baby but this is all for Daddy.”  Then I heard him grunt and gasp and felt him fill me with his juices.  I was flying with exaltation in that moment.  I had been used, I had served, I had been a toy for his pleasure.  Once his hands on my neck had put me in that mental space, that was all I wanted.  I couldn’t have asked but he knew what I needed in that moment and delivered it by taking for himself.tumblr_lu2i4se65c1r4vlkko1_500

I’m still in awe.  I want that again…and again…and again.



The Foundation of my Submission



After Mr. D wrote to me about his thoughts on being submissive, I thought I would try to put it into words myself.  I have thought about my own choice to submit and it takes me back to my history and my past.  I had a very needy mother.  She is and was a wonderfully giving person.  I love her dearly but I can still admit to her faults without it being hurtful.  When my father cheated on her and left her with two young children to raise, she was lost.  She pulled up her big girl pants and raised us but she wasn’t a strong person.  I was her helper.  I was her shoulder.  I filled in the cracks for her wherever and whenever needed.  You are part of a family and as a child you are at first coerced by talk of duty and family then at some point you drink the Koolaid and become what is asked of you.  As I became a teenager, I was angry with my mother for being the way she was…for needing me the way she did.  But I love her deeply and through many years of perspective I realize she just didn’t have the ability to do or be more than she did.

In the end, I was raised to be someone who helped others.  I was raised to be the ‘good girl’ and to put others before myself, always.  I learned that lesson so well that when I found a man who desperately needed me I thought, perfect, this works for me.  At a young age, we really have no idea why someone’s need calls to us.  In my case, I fulfilled the need as best I could but in the end, alcoholism won over.  During the spiral of my husband’s addiction, I was the one who was desperate.  I had to find out why I allowed this, why I was the way I was.

Fortunately, a friend led me to the D/s lifestyle.  In the lifestyle, the power play between the giver and the receiver is out in the open…spoken and negotiated.  No longer is there this unspoken, underlying power struggle that will take over my life.  If the need is out in the open and so is the willingness to fill the need, then there is no resentment, no sense of being abused and used.

Ultimately, as Mr. D said in his poem, there is control and strength in giving someone else your service as a submissive.  For me, service is the key part.  I serve others.  My mental make-up, carved out at a young age, is to serve others.  I find myself doing it whether I initially want to or not.  Just sit down in front of me while I’m watching TV.  I’ll be massaging your neck and shoulders for 15 minutes before I even notice I’m doing it.  I know now that I will give up everything I may want for myself and instead focus that energy on someone else.  It has taken me a lot of Alanon to learn that I am important and that I cannot serve others well by doing everything for them.  That just continues the disease if I’m serving an addictive person.  So, now, I choose to negotiate my service as a submissive within the lifestyle of D/s or BDSM or the Kinky Lifestyle, however you like to think of it.  My choice to be in this lifestyle has everything to do with my past and is a level of control I keep over my future.  No longer will I serve in an unhealthy manner.

Mr. D and I have negotiated our roles in this lifestyle and in our relationship.  Right now, we are new to each other, but we have a start on how his Domination works with my submission.  We are learning each other.  We have shared with each other our likes and some dislikes.  Some things we are testing.  I can feel him testing my boundaries and each time he reaches my edges and corners I feel it and I see him take note.  He is so intelligent, I feel like he is always many steps ahead of me in this but I trust where he is leading us.  I know he has my best interests at heart.  In everyday life, I’m an executive.  I’m used to being in control at work.  But in my personal relationships, it is different.  I choose to serve by being feminine, by giving pleasure, by being what my mate wishes as his companion.  When I’m fulfilling that role and pushing my boundaries at the same time, I’m in heaven.kolar

I feel very blessed to have grown enough to be at peace with how I was raised, who I am now and what I want in life.  For years, I felt like I was weak and desperately tried to change myself.  It is amazing what happens when you accept who you are and learn to live in your own skin.  I’m still a work in progress.  I admit to being powerless on a daily basis still.  But I feel so much stronger now.  I know it is okay to be soft, to bend to another’s will and to serve.  I am happy again to please another and feel the sun of his smile when I have done well.




I was having a particularly bad day dealing with someone who was working very hard to hurt me.  They were hurting me by manipulation, through guilt.  The weapons of language were being leveled in a battle of power and I was losing dreadfully.  I wanted to keep this hurt to myself.  I didn’t want to share my weakness but in the end I needed help and I confided in Mr. D.

He was able to take me out of the battle, to help me regain my strength.  Mainly and crucially he gave me a shoulder to lean on and someone to talk to so I wasn’t alone.  He told me I was strong and I could handle this.  I felt relieved to have him and relieved to know that it was possible to deal with this person.

After this happened, Mr. D wrote the following for me…images7DV0GEID


Submission is control

Control of your entire self

Your emotions and feelings

Your desires and wants

Your actions and reactions

Submission is allowing others to have power

Yet knowing your worth and value

It is not just a boudoir activity but a life choice

Submission is power in the face of adversity

Submission dictates humility in the bedroom

Conversely it portends relationship equality

Allows dominance in professional settings

And is the foundation of peace

Inherently it is the Yin to the Yang

The lullaby to the crying babe

The peace before the storm

You are the foundation

You are inherently and wonderfully submissive

You are free thinking, intelligent, and trusting

You feel your way through things and take them to heart

You are an equal, a leader, and my better half

I love your power yet deference

I cherish your touch on my body and words on my soul

I crave your thoughts and desires

I love you my Baby Girl, my Slut, my Heart.

July 18, 2014