Trust your landmark and run through the smoke.

Lady reclining over her sofa, touching her pussy while wearing a medal from her landmark moment

This week Food For Thought Friday has asked us to think about Landmark in our lifes.

What, if any, have been your particular landmarks, either in relation to your blog or your wider life?

Do you have any future goals/landmarks you want to achieve? What are they?

I have been very quiet this month for a number of reasons. The first was my study. With the end of my module came assignment pressure and extra work took over. Alongside this life has thrown me an unwanted curve ball; managing this has taken up a lot of energy but also marks a significant shift in my wellbeing. Previously an episode like this would have floored me, but this time I have held my own… battered but not beaten. This in itself is a landmark achievement for me.

But it is not the one that I want to talk about today!

As I have mentioned previously I like to run. It was the one thing I was allowed to do for me while I was married, and after a couple of years break and significant weight gain the return of Sir heralded my return to running in January last year. Since before I met him I had the goal of wanting to run a marathon, and when he departed again in the summer he left me the task of running a marathon by the end of February. Losing him again was painful, but I had a goal. He had set me a task because he believed I could do it, even though I didn’t quite have the belief in myself. All winter I trained, loving the longer distances, the freedom of the miles, the openness of the big sky over my head. I had the race date for the start of february, a gloriously hilly first marathon. Local enough that I knew the area and could practise parts of the route. My beloved Dartmoor. Races leading up to the big day went exactly as planned. The longest run felt amazing and I could have carried on all day. I was ready! Body, mind, and soul working together.

My landmark moment had arrived.

Or so I thought. The start  of February brought snow to Dartmoor, the race was postponed. I went out for a marathon distance run that day, and ended up with an injury, catching the train home from half way. I was left feeling like I had failed Sir in my task. I wouldn’t be able to achieve the marathon I had been tasked with, I wondered why I should even bother to find another marathon seeing as I had let him down. What was the point? I had this one-sided conversation with a friend, venting my frustrations at him in text form. And as I let all the pain and frustration out my memory was jarred to Sir’s response to a task the previous summer. A plan had fallen through and I had needed to scrabble around to fulfill the brief. After everything had been sorted I had explained the level of stress which had threatened to overwhelm me, I was so upset about disappointing him when something outside of my control had happened. His response had obviously struck a chord with me:

N, you have never let me down. You always try your hardest and do everything you can to achieve my expectations, you have never let me down or disappointed me.

This exchange surfaced in my mind as I spilled the bitter disappointment at Slave Lytton. And from this came the realisation that I had not let him down at all. had been ready. had done everything possible to make sure that could complete the marathon in the time frame he had set me. Yes, I was disappointed, and I would probably always feel like I could have done more, but… those where the last whispers of depression and I had to believe in myself.

So I started hunting for a replacement race.

A marathon that I would enjoy for my first time, and one that fit into my child free weekends. And one that would allow time for my knee to recover, but without being too far away for me to lose the momentum. Finding more races to keep me inspired in the meantime, I stumbled across a marathon. A new one. Fairly hilly, well located, beautiful views, and most importantly….lots of cake for finishers! The date was set for the beginning of May. I spent the next two months rebuilding my distance and regaining my confidence. It was during this time that I realised that sir had set me this task because he knew how much I wanted to achieve it, even though I didn’t quite believe that I would be able to do it. Even as I sit here typing that I can feel the tears pricking at my eyes. He knew he wouldn’t be here, but wanted me to grow without him, to finally learn to believe in myself unequivocally, in the same way that he always had.

What a gift to leave me with?

Roll on to the start of May. I don’t know how many of you have completed a marathon, I had no idea what I would actually feel like during the race or after the race, but the entire event just blew me away. I loved it, the whole damn thing! I can’t believe that I hadn’t believed in myself all along, that I hadn’t found the courage to train for and enter a marathon before then. There were a few moments when I stopped smiling, and they were in the third quarter (I’m told this is a normal time to find it hard) when I realised that I wouldn’t be able to tell sir that I had completed his task, and to thank him for believing in me. When I finally reached that finish line I jumped for joy. My amazing friend S-W-L had driven for hours to come and cheer me across the line. I jumped for joy, and couldn’t stop babbling about how proud of myself I am. The first time I have ever felt proud of myself without first having to have someone (including myself) convince me that I should be proud.

So that is my landmark moment, and the lesson that has translated from BDSM to everyday life to allow me to achieve.

But what is next? Do you think I am going to stop there?

Nah, I don’t think I could enjoy a life without challenging goals to achieve.

To paraphrase a very important man: Set a goal, plan, achieve, take stock and set a new goal. [Repeat]

Next stop is an ultra…. watch this space!

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Trust your landmark and run through the smoke was first published on A Leap of Faith.

Most of all, differences of opinion are opportunities for learning.

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Photo by Lukas Rychvalsky on Pexels.com

M and I were getting along really well, but there was something that made him deeply uncomfortable.

He loved the fact that I enjoyed kinky sex, but my submissive nature made him a little bit cross. Power exchange was never something that I required of him, we were equals on all fronts, but on occasion I would do something that would anger him and it wasn’t until I pinned him down and demanded he talk to me about the problem that we could start to work on a solution. There was one time when he had a tight back, and as I was sat on floor by his feet I automatically went to put on his socks. I did not see that as a submissive thing, more just helping someone I cared about with something they found tricky. He snatched the socks from my hand and marched off to his bedroom to put his own socks and shoes on. Throughout my marriage behaviour like this (anger!!) would have made me quake in my boots, but I was different now, more confident, and this was M. I had no reason to fear him, though he did confuse me sometimes.

I gave him some time to calm down, and asked him why he had reacted the way he did.

It then all came tumbling out. How during our blossoming friendship he had initially enjoyed the fact that I was owned, but now that we were together he didn’t want or need that responsibility. Being my dominant was not what he had signed up for and it made him feel very uncomfortable to think I wanted him to behave that way. I had to stifle a giggle at that point, he could never have known that I did not expect or desire that from him either. So I explained to him that none of the things that I did would ever mean I wanted him to be my Sir, my owner, my dominant. He was my lover, my friend, my equal. And while I felt that a D/s relationship could include all of those 3 parts, my relationship with him did not include the power exchange and sadomasochism which I would associate with a D/s relationship.

  • This man I loved was gentle, scatty and a little bit flakey!
  • The Dominant that I loved was demanding, organised and driven.

I adored all of those things about both of them, but they were two entirely different men. And with sir away for the foreseeable future (I had no idea if I would ever see him again) I had no desire at that time to look for a similar relationship elsewhere.

This conversation marked a turning point in our relationship.

He became noticeably more relaxed, and didn’t fly off the handle when some part of my submission emerged. He tried his best to take it in the spirit I intended it, and kindly told me if something made him uncomfortable, and I tried to make sure I didn’t behave in a way that put him on edge. Not through fear of the consequences if I upset him, as I had been with P, but more out of a mutual respect for our different life experiences and expectations. By having the confidence to challenge the negative feelings brought about by our different opinions we learnt more about each other and grew as a couple.

couple love romantic silhouette
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

Nothing is more powerful than an idea whose time has come.

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Sir had been called in to attend a meeting not far from me, so K and I were invited to join him the evening before.

When he emailed us in the morning, I responded promptly and chattered to K via text but, unknown to me, she didn’t respond to him. I received an email later in the day asking if she had changed her mind as sir hadn’t heard from her to confirm. I reassured him that I was due to be at hers at 6pm, and we would be there in plenty of time. Our instructions for the start were the same as I was used to. This time there would be two blindfolds waiting, one each. We were definitely not allowed to draw attention to ourselves as we walked through reception! He emailed shortly after 6 to confirm the room number and K, who was testing my patience by being predictably tardy, replied that we were getting our stuff together and would soon be on our way.

By the time we finally got on the road I was a little bit frazzled.

In fairness to K she was nervous, and chattered away as we drank our cups of tea on the drive towards the hotel, a very familiar route in my kink life as well as my personal and professional ones. I was able to talk through her jiggling nerves with her, explaining what my experiences had been and what my expectations of the evening would be. I had to remind myself that this was her first experience of BDSM, and that it was a good thing that she was asking questions. Her chatter turned to her swinging experiences and I was able to just listen, and run through my thoughts as I drove. When I parked we nipped to the restaurant toilets to freshen up, and I put my heels on, then we were good to go.

The room was the first door you arrived at after walking through reception.

It was open, as always, and we walked through into the darkened room which smelt so familiar. Putting my bag of toys down next to me (as instructed) I handed K her blindfold and put mine on, and encouraged her to settle. My heart racing. Then he was there, greeting us, running his hands over my body and claiming me back. Today there was no collar for me, its absence weighed more than the thick leather band itself. First we were tied together, and then encouraged to explore each other. Then he used a wand on each of us, his Hitachi on K and the electro wand on me. Sadly the vibrations and static didn’t produce the intensity required to take me over the edge, and when he told me I was to be quiet with each orgasm I told him that the wand wasn’t getting me close, the vibrations weren’t going deep enough.

I had brought the doxy, and he switched over to that… which worked a treat.

And then I came repeatedly. Although she hadn’t been expecting it K experienced orgasms too, and was quite vocal. I understood why I had to be quiet… Two moaning ladies would attract undue attention. And when he swapped back to the electro wand it was even more fun trying to keep the noise down. That evening I was exposed to a number of firsts. Reading through my review for the evening I can see the disappointment I felt. During a scene he would always ask “Are you bored yet?” and the answer would always be a resounding no. This night he didn’t ask me that question, and it is the only night I would have said yes.

There were bits that I really enjoyed, and I was really surprised about them.

Such as when K and I were sharing his cock with our mouths, kneeling either side of him. I loved that. And when he showered us with his cum at the end, feeling those drops fall on my body and my face is engraved in my memory. Understandably there was no impact play due to the proximity to reception, but when we were bent over the bed, side by side and tied at the ankle, I could have wandered off and made a cup of tea. And when K and I were in a 69 (I have never been a fan of that position) I may as well have not been there while he took her from behind. We spoke about this afterwards and he told me that some Dominants would have had me sit on a chair and watch them use another woman but he didn’t see me ever not being involved. It was a form of humiliation. Something that I still don’t fully understand.

What surprised me was how I felt about sharing him. Not that he was mine to share.

I had worried that I would feel lacking in some way, or jealous at his attentions being laid elsewhere. There was none of that, for hich I am extremely proud. I felt left out, but never not good enough. And though there were parts which I wasn’t enamoured with, there were many parts which I did love. I have always felt selfish because of my mixed feelings about that night when I know full well that scenes with sir would sometimes not be about my needs, and given the meeting he had looming over him the following day… Speaking to him about it just a few weeks ago it turns out that he was a little disappointed with the evening too. Not being able to include impact play for me, us having to be civilised because K was more about the swinging than the kink and he didn’t want to scare her, and me not being as free in my sexuality to fully embrace it. I am looking forward to revisiting this scenario at some point, and seeing what we have both learnt from that experience and over the (almost) two years between then and now.

This was my first time with Sir of my expectations not matching the experience. Not bad for a journey of almost 2 years…

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