Recently I went blonde. I'm naturally a brunette, with long and thick hair, but I have been a redhead as well. It was a dramatic change and the response from everyone, especially men, has been overwhelmingly positive. I have never felt so noticed in all my life.
I'm curious, do you prefer a specific hair color on women and do blondes really have more fun?
Yesterday was not my finest moment. I've been tired, overworked, and have way too much on my plate. My brain must be full. While checking into a hotel and making arrangements to keep my car in the hotel parking garage I insisted my car was white. No madame he tells me, I see your car on my surveillance camera and your car is silver. Again I insist that my car is white. And back and forth we went. You guessed it- the car I had just spent 8 hours driving is silver. It has been since February when my son crashed my white car and I bought the same car in silver. I don't think I can show my face at this hotel again. Especially since I then embarrassed myself further by forgetting the instructions about how to get the parking garage doors to open and after holding up a line of cars I had to go back into the hotel to get help. It was purely mortifying.
Please make me feel better- share an embarrassing story of your own. Pretty please.
The beat of my heart
Legs and feet spread apart
The crack of your whips
My wetness as it drips
Thrusts in my ass
Taming bratty sass
Fist pulling my hair
Dominance made aware
You flip me on my back
Hands pawing at my rack
My climax starts to riseAs you stare into my eyes
"Permission Sir?" I cry
Face to face, eye to eye
"Not yet" you demand
Stroking with your hand
Your scent, musky sweetFriction creating heat
"Beg slut" I am told
Words strong and bold
Explosions rise inside
Orgasms long and wide
Perfect, erotic blissEndless embrace and kiss
May we forever be
Together blissful eternally
My heart leads too quickly
My brain can't catch up
I'm getting ahead of myself
And tripping myself up
There is something about aging
I lack patience for bullshit
I refuse to be disingenuous
I claim who I am and damn the consequences
This may not seem like much
But for a rule-following submissive
It has redefined my vision of myself
I am newly born
There is something liberating
About standing up for yourself
And more importantly
Standing for those who can't advocate for themselves
Self-reflection has been good for me
My voice is strong and assured
I'm falling and taking off
I embrace the rush
How beautiful that this take-charge woman
who has hidden for so long
Can also embrace her submission
I acknowledge it. I accept it
I am finally- genuinely me
No one ever told me
how hard it is to transition
from being in a D/s
to being alone
Once you experience
the satisfaction of serving
and offering them your all
knowing you are theirs
Once you experience
their proud smiles
and nods of approval
and loving glances
Once you experience
their first kiss
that feels like home
and you are told you are theirs
Once you experience
the exceptional pain
of their loving strike
that numbs your mind
Once you offer yourself
with no shame or thought
naked and lost in a moment
experiencing one another
Once you receive
their tender aftercare
and sleep warmly
embraced in their arms
It is impossible to go back
You are forever changed
You have found your true self
Where is my Dominant?
I'm traveling with my youngest- visiting the university she will begin attending in August. We are in a foreign country, in a big city. I've been quietly watching her as she navigates the foreign streets and embraces new cultures. She walks with confidence amongst the skyscrapers. She opens herself to new people, growing by leaps and bounds.
When did my pigtailed, missing tooth kiddo become this young woman? I recall holding her hand in our little New England town- keeping her safe from harm. She's outgrown all of that now. She's outgrown her current life and so have I.
My house will be going on the market soon. I'll be moving to a new community where I don't know anyone. Like my youngest child, I hope to grow by leaps and bounds. I will walk with confidence. I will be okay and so will she.
I'm thinking too much. Terrified yet exhilarated. I'm preparing to venture into my future alone and making big changes in 2024. New home. Possibly a new career. After 25 years I'll finally be free to make choices for myself and the sky is the limit.
Rationally I know I have been on my own for many years and have always managed well. If anything I should be feeling less encumbered- less terrified. But now I see that having the responsibilities of children forced me to get up and go to work, to cook and clean and show up. It made me choose only the best partners, and to leave bad relationships. What will happen now and can I continue on my own, with no little eyes watching my every move? Will I let depression overwhelm me? Will I continue to show up? Will I fly or will I crash and burn? Where has my confidence gone and why do I feel crippled by the very changes I have been longing for?
Maybe this is what a midlife crisis feels like. Yes, tonight I am thinking too much.
I overheard two couples today while in a department store. Each could not have been more different, and they caused me to examine my own history and what I desire for a future dynamic.
The first conversation occurred in the dressing room next to mine. A man doted on his wife as she tried on dresses for an event. He gathered different colors and sizes for her. He zipped her carefully so as not to snag her hair. When she finally asked him to enter the dressing room as she tried on the last few he expressed discomfort but went along to please her. Being the kinky sort I am this caught my ear and I was expecting some sordid tomfoolery. I was wrong, it was completely G-rated. What I heard was her openly express to him her insecurities about her body and how she looked. This man could not have been more loving and supportive. He was honest, but kind and encouraging. She was sad about the effect that age was having on her breasts and he mentioned how great her arms looked. It was nothing short of beautiful and their love of many decades was evident. He saw this woman as so much more than just her outer shell.
The second conversation occurred as I was waiting in line to pay. The man was brutal to his partner. He expressed his displeasure for the line, for the garment she chose to purchase, for the price she was willing to pay, and for having to accompany her to the store in the first place. When his complaints yielded no results he resorted to telling the woman she looked "hideous" in the top and that he would be embarrassed to be seen with her in it. They left without making the purchase, and she was nearly in tears.
Witnessing such cruelty took me back to my own abusive marriage of 17 years. It felt like daggers in my heart. Over time my self-esteem had been eaten away and I wound up a shell of the person I had once been. I went through years of therapy to process what had occurred, including taking ownership for the parts that I had allowed, and learned boundaries to prevent this from ever happening again. It's difficult for me to be naturally submissive and to enforce boundaries and I haven't always done the best job of it. Either I've been overly reactive to situations or overly permissive. Striking a healthy balance is something I'm still improving.
Yet sometimes I witness a loving couple like in the dressing room and my heart soars. It didn't make him any less of a man to be loving to his bride, and she respected him in return. They seemed indescribably happy. That gives me reason to hope.
He wasn't my first choice
I woke to him yelling loudly for breakfast
Nudging me out of bed
Stinky breath on my neck
Demanding. Persistent. Total pain in my ass
He's my daughters emotional support cat
Quarantined to my room until she recovers from illness
Maybe sleeping alone isn't so bad after all