Sunday, March 10, 2013

sunday snapshots

I started writing this yesterday, it was supposed to be "saturday snippets", but then life (kids) happened and my daughter deleted the entire post...

I don't even know how she did it.  I was busy with  her older brother, he was getting into things he shouldn't, and my laptop sat on the couch.  When she realized the coast was clear she darted over and began mashing buttons as fast and as hard as she could.  And somehow everything got erased.

Anyway, "saturday snippets" is now "sunday snapshots".  These snapshots are moments that happen sort of tucked neatly into the monotony of everyday life.  I've spoken of them before.  Inbetween the cleaning, and the cooking, and the diapers, and the kid corralling, these little moments are expressions of the dynamic that lays just under the surface of everyday life.


(A little background, I'm not allowed to drink Mt. Dew soda anymore because it gives me horrid stomach aches.  Unfortunately, it is my favorite soda and sometimes I just can't resist...)

Vincent: (As we are walking from Papa Murphy's to our car, kids in tow) Is that Mt. Dew in your hand?!
Me: Ummm... yes?
Vincent: Go back and exchange it. Now.
Me: But, but there isn't anything else I like!
Vincent: (incredulously) There isn't any Pepsi?
Me: No!
Vincent: Fine.  
Me: (hanging my head) I'm in big trouble aren't I?
Vincent: Yes. I'll deal with you when we get home.

Apparently drinking a drink because you love it, and ignoring the fact it will cause you immense pain later, can be considered "intention to harm oneself".  Also, apparently, intention to harm myself is a punishable offense. He considered taking away my phone, or laptop, or Kindle, but decided on a simple spanking instead. His decision may have been due to the fact that I can do anything I do one device, on the other, therefore removing one of them would actually do nothing at all.

(I swear, the moment I start telling the internet universe that we don't do punishment in our dynamic up it pops!  What the heck?!)


(Setting the stage: We're about to get our carpets cleaned sometime next week.  We also have washable paint pens, and yes, I have tested them.  They come off every surface with soap and water.)

 Me: So, the kids got into the washable paint pens and DID NOT (meaning they did) draw all over the bed and the carpet after getting bored with the paper I gave them...
Vincent: They did what?!  Where were you?
Me: So, this time, it was my fault.  I was sitting at your computer, I looked away for about a minute, maybe two, and it just happened.
(After seeing the damage...)
Vincent: You're cleaning those sheets this weekend, and this better not happen again!  Also, you're getting spanked.

(He wasn't really angry, just annoyed.  And no, I have no idea what I was thinking letting the kids be unsupervised for even a moment with paint pens. I have no excuses.)


(What happened first: Yesterday was errand day, we were headed to Costco and Safeway, and if you have young kids you know how long it takes to get everyone ready and out the door.  So, I started flipping out because I wanted to go and Vincent was not in as big of a hurry as I.)

Vincent: (Overtop of me flipping out) Stop.  Alex, just stop!
Me: But I want to go and...
Vincent: No. I'm pulling a Dom card here, you need to stop talking right now.  We're leaving now.
Me: *stunned into silence*
Vincent: Hmmm, that works really well.  I'm going to have to remember that.

Later in the day:

Vincent: So, I've decided that whenever you flip out I'm going to pull the Dom card.  That means you stop talking at me right away and listen.
Me: Oh, okay.
Vincent: (half joking) Maybe I should have a physical card I hand you and you'll just have to stop talking whenever I hand you the card.
Me: Haha, you're so funny.

And then today, he pulled the Dom card again...

I might make him an actual card just for the fun of it.  I could make it all sparkly and flowery...

*snicker snicker*

Tuesday, March 5, 2013


Vincent and I were strolling through a pet store last weekend.  We passed some dog cages, and he turns to me and says, "We should get you a birdcage."

What birdcages and dog cages have in common, other than being cages, I don't know. I assumed he got bored with constantly referring to me as his little doggy (he does this just to see the blush on my face, and watch me get all indignant and insistent that I am NOT a little doggy), and decided it was time to switch to birds.  Which is okay with me.  I'd much rather be a songbird in a birdcage, than a dog in a kennel.

Anyway, I asked him, "And what would I do in this birdcage?"

"Sleep, of course.  You don't need much room, just enough to curl up inside."

Of course, sleep.  Curled in a ball.  Unable to move.

Oh the things he comes up with!

Saturday, March 2, 2013

blurring and stirring the truth and the lies

Warning: This post might be a little, or a lot, disjointed.  I apologize if it makes no sense at all.  It's also going to be somewhat vague, and I'm sorry.  I also hate vague posts, but sometimes we have to share our feelings without talking about the specifics, right?

On Thursday I discovered a whole myriad of things about someone close to me that were horrifying, and shocking, and deeply affected me.  At first I was just shocked and horrified.  That's all I could feel, horror and shock.  And that lasted until the next day.

Yesterday I was mostly able to ignore it.  Every now and then something would remind me or it would just pop into my head and I'd want to vomit, but I stayed busy enough to keep myself from really thinking about it for more than a second.

My sister got engaged Thursday evening and that fact in itself has been keeping me pretty ecstatic.  She's going to marry a wonderful man, and I am so happy for them.

Then, last night, my laptop stopped working properly.  Suddenly I wasn't nearly as distracted as I'd been keeping myself, and the thoughts and the feelings just came flooding in.  The feelings I thought I'd dealt with a long time ago, but... well, it's hard to explain why, but it's obvious now that I couldn't have fully dealt with them and now they're back and stronger than ever.

I'm dirty.
My worth is only sexual.
Don't look at me!
Don't touch me, please.
I'm so ashamed.
I'm a slut.
I deserve to be scorned.
I want to hide in thick bulky clothing.
I feel sick and want to vomit up all the bad feelings.
I want to be invisible again.
I want to shove all this crap inside, deep inside, so I don't have to face it.
I want to deny that any of this is true.
It hurts so much that it is, and it's so confusing.

Guilt, shame, denial, confusion, horror, hatred, disgust towards myself and the other person, it's all crashing in on me at once and it's so overwhelming!

There was a time I felt all of those things so strongly.  I ended up cutting because the emotional pain was too much.  I want to cut again.  Badly.  It feels stronger this time, worse.  The emotional feels almost physical, like my body tingles and aches and I feel physically sick.  I feel antsy, I want to keep busy so I can shove it all aside, stop thinking about it and stop feeling.

It's really hard to verbalize any of this.  Writing it is easier.  Talking to Vincent about it is a lot harder.  I'm trying to, though, because he needs to know how I'm feeling.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

the illusion of choice

I'm attempting to write a post on our version of living a 24/7 dynamic with two little children in the house.  It's harder than I thought it would be, I keep going off on tangents.  One of them was about choice.  A few days ago this conversation took place (which I shared in my post "sprinkles"):

Vincent: No. Nope. Don't speak.  You don't have a choice.
Me: But! Ugh, I don't ever have any choices!
Vincent: *grinning maniacally* And now you're finally getting it.
Me: *sputters but stays silent* 

We were playing around at the time, in a way.  He was teasing me, but not joking, if that makes sense.

So, as I was attempting to write the other post, I began to think about choice, my choices.  It didn't take long for me to realize that ultimately the only choice I have is to submit or not. 

This doesn't mean I don't make choices on a daily basis, but those choices are, in reality, only allowed by Vincent.  He could, at any time, make an absolute decision at which point my only choice is to submit or not.  Although, there is no punishment if I chose not to submit, the consequence is a rift in our relationship and Vincent's displeasure.  Those consequences are never worth getting my own way.

Often even the choices he allows me to make are still run by him, based on an expressed opinion by him or on what I believe he would have me choose.

Yesterday I told him I'd realized this and he was surprised that I'd not noticed this before.  I think he's just Mr. Sneaky, subtly getting me to this point so that by the time I realized my lack of choice it would be what I wanted, not something I would try and fight.

Lack of choice, or expression of control, doesn't have to be exhibited with asking permission to use furniture, or go to the bathroom, or seeking permission to wear clothes.  Although, of course, there is nothing wrong with having that as a part of your dynamic, some might even need that.  Sometimes, though, expression of control (my lack of choice) can be much more subtle, but still just as effective.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

my very hard limit

I promised a post on my biggest fear, my hardest of all my hard limits... but I'm finding it really difficult to write.

I don't want it to be taken the wrong way.

I guess it would best be started like this:

I know that anal play can be safely and consensually used as punishment, but it is personally my biggest fear.  Please know this is partly based on the context in which I first was made aware of it, and partially drawn from my own views on anal play and all sex.  If you experience or use anal play or sex as punishment in a safe, risk aware, consensual way I have no problem with that.

A while back I was reading some posts on a DD forum where these women were talking about their husbands using anal sex as punishment.  They made it very clear they don't like anal sex, and they talked about it being painful and humiliating.  They also encouraged other wives to submit to it if their husbands decided to use it as punishment.

The way these women wrote, nothing sounded loving or caring, safe or truly consensual, and it scared me.  It's possible that it was loving and caring, and safe and completely consensual, I only know what I read and how I interpretted it.  Either way, even if it is done in a loving, caring, safe, and consensual way it's a very hard limit for me.

First of all, though Vincent has put a small plug in my butt, I have never had anal sex and I am rather scared of it to begin with.  I'm willing to try it, but it would be pushing my limits, and that's with it being an act of passion and sexual fun.  So, to imagine anal sex being used in a punishing way is terrifying to me.

Secondly, very early on in our relationship we made a pact to never use sex against each other.  No denying each other sex in bitterness, anger, or resentment.  No denying sex to get something we want.  No seducing each other for the purpose of getting something we want either.  Sex, we decided, would be reserved as an expression of love, passion, forgiveness, acceptance, connection, sexual need, and anything else positive. (We express all those things quite often, hehe.)  Using anal sex as punishment would break that pact completely.

Edit: As part of the above agreement it has always been implied that sex would be pleasurable for both of us. That doesn't mean I have an orgasm every single time, it just means that if something doesn't really feel good, or it hurts in a bad way (because not all pain is bad) we don't do it. When we do eventually try anal sex, it's already been established by Vincent that if it is not at all pleasurable for me we won't do it, period. So that also figures into my extreme dislike of using anal sex as punishment.

Lastly, my view of punishment is such that, even when done lovingly with great care, it doesn't register that way for me.  If Vincent is displeased with me I immediately seek to right the wrong.  If he chose to punish me I would view that as merely a representation of his displeasure, after which I would still need to do something to regain Vincent's favor.  From what I've seen, many who do use punishment as part of their dynamic, the punishment is the atonement and afterward the wrongdoing is completely forgiven and the relationship restored.  Punishment doesn't do that for me (a big reason it isn't a part of our dynamic).  Therefore, if Vincent ever used anal sex as punishment (which he wouldn't) it would only be an expression of his anger or displeasure and would be a wholly negative experience.

Each dynamic, just like the people involved, is unique.  No two are exactly the same.  For this reason I can see that anal play and anal sex can be used as punishment in a healthy way.  For me, however, it cannot, and thankfully I don't have to ever worry about it!

Friday, February 22, 2013


Here are some of today's D/s moments sprinkled amongst daily life:

While on a walk together, talking about something completely vanilla (but I can't remember what exactly)...

Vincent: No. Nope. Don't speak.  You don't have a choice.
Me: But! Ugh, I don't ever have any choices!
Vincent: *grinning maniacally* And now you're finally getting it.
Me: *sputters but stays silent*

After I pushed his buttons, and we argued, and reconciled with a tickle fight (the children were in bed)...

Vincent: *as he pulls his belt through the belt loops* Turn around.
Me: No! We don't do punishment remember?
Vincent: Well, this is the exception.
Me: But- that's not fair!
Vincent: Do I have to make you turn over?
Me: Yes!
Vincent threatens to whip my leg with the belt, at which point I turn over very quickly. I can't lie, I thoroughly enjoyed it. 

 There was another one, but I've forgotten what really occurred and so I can't share it.

 It's lovely how natural these moments flow into our daily lives with tiny snippets of a conversation, or a fun moment after an argument; they really are just sprinkled in among changing diapers, grocery shopping, picking up toys for the 10 billionth time.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

men beware...

I do not feel submissive today.

I want to rebel. I want to push buttons to see how far I can go, and then I want to push more.

I feel mean.

It's all hormones, I know that, but it doesn't change how I feel. (Stupid late period.)

Of course, because I know better than to let emotions control me I am going to try NOT to push. I will try to be pleasant and submissive, and not mean.

But I can't guarantee anything in this state...

 (Premenstrual Syndrome is not an accurate term.  For me it's the worst right at the beginning of my period, not before.)