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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Check out what else is happening over at Boobday.

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

Eroticon 2019: My Ten things

Picture shows the handle of a hand made flogger made from black and green paracord. This was one of the lessons I learned at Eroticon with thanks to kinkcraft

From one thing, know ten thousand things.

Ok, so Eroticon is my one thing, and my brain has been filled with ten thousand other things.

When I found this quote for my title I initially intended it as a tongue in cheek reference to how full my brain is following the conference. However, in an effort to narrow it down to the top ten things I learnt, it has become clear that I wasn’t far off. No matter, I shall break it down as best I can.

The following are in no particular order, and are definitely not a conclusive list.
  • The first session I attended on the saturday was with KinkCraft. It was important for me to find a space to relax a little and I love making things, so where better. Last year I made a flogger from speaker cable. The sensation it produces is delicious, but the handle is pretty is pretty awful. I am so excited to now know how to work with paracord to make a nice handle. As luck would have it I even have matching colours in my kinky-crafting storage box.
  • I learnt that objectification works both ways. Sunday morning saw me with a huge dilemma. Each of the three rooms had a talk that I wanted to go to, but I had to choose one. After much deliberation I decided on Fetish.com and their talk “Launch your Pocket Rocket! Time to monetize your content” This was solely based on my need to wake up gently, and the men hosting this talk certainly offered that. However, not only was there sleepy-head cerebral porn on offer, there was also a lot of new and exciting content for me. I came away feeling that I may be able to make my little corner of the world at  least pay for itself, plus an occasional caffeine hit.
  • Sometimes it is possible to make the wrong choice of talk though, and one of my chosen presentations I found quite difficult to relate to. Come Curious are fun, beautiful and sassy ladies with an unmistakable brand. They are certainly high-profile, and represent some great ideas. I hope they pave the way for future generations of the sex-positive community, but with the way society is at the moment being out and proud isn’t always an option. I’m glad that I stayed for this talk though, some distressing and inspiring stories from my fellow delegates brought us all closer together. I think we all learnt something during “Public ejaculation: When you put your face on your sex work.”
  • I met Zak Jane Keir on the book stand at BBB last last November. I had no idea who she was at the time, but after I purchased the Dice Writing book we got talking about Eroticon, and she told me she would be doing a workshop on dice writing there. I knew then that I would be attending, even if it meant missing something else I might find useful. (It did, but it was totally worth it!) I had tried to write using the book since buying it, but put it away again, knowing full well that I would find it easier to immerse myself following in-person tuition. I wasn’t wrong! Not only did I learn so much from her, other delegates (braver than me) read snippets of their work to the group and showed me how serious and/or nonsensical I could be. I can’t wait to start putting things into practise.
  • “Procrastination is a habit of fear.” One of the most valuable sessions for me was Kayla Lords’ How to reach your goals when you have no time to work on them. I have had some intensive training around goal setting, and it is something I consider a strength. I am also pretty good at getting the work done, when I figure out that I don’t need to wash the garden gate or defrost the freezer… It was amazing to see someone so passionately discussing their goals and the minute changes that they had to make to their day in order to start winning big. But the sentence that stood out is the quote she used about procrastination. It has been helpful in my recent assignment, to a point, and I have shared it with a wonderful friend who has been doing a cracking job painting her woodwork. Thank you Kayla for sharing your experiences and inspiring me. (Though I am putting off my time audit. I wonder if I’m scared of what I will find?!)
  • Something that follows on quite nicely from here is Molly and Michael taking on the subject of Looking at your blog with a critical eye. I know that I have a lot of work to do to bring my corner of the world up to speed. It got battered in June when WordPress archived me, and then my blog took a back seat while I licked wounds. Since getting my head into gear again I realised the amount I need to do, but didn’t have the faintest idea where to start. This session was immediately helpful. Along with Kayla’s30 minute rule, and a series of bullet point lists (Who doesn’t love a list) I think I will be able to achieve everything in time for this years “top 100” lists, and give myself a fighting chance of being included. Making one small change with each post (ALT description on pictures is my choice) sets me up with a winning mindset…
  • But once I have set aside 30 minutes, and critically appraised (and fixed) my blog I need to have something else ready to go. Thank you Girl on the net for your amazing talk on building traffic. She made it look so easy, and using her basic steps it really is, but I have to remember that GOTN has been working hard at this for a lot of years, and patience is the name of her game. Plus #journorequest (I’m not sure I’m ready for it this month, but it doesn’t stop me browsing)
  • Dessert and Readings on sunday afternoon was a steamy affair. Not only did I get to it peacefully and enjoy some smut, but I was able to put voices to people whose writing I have enjoyed for the past year. Victoria Blisse, who I later met on the book stall, and Bibulous One both had me particularly squirming in my seat. Having been unsure whether I would enjoy being read to, I have realised I am a complete convert and want smutty bedtime stories about pain and pleasure… No need to be in my own head.
  • The trade stalls were great to chat with during moments when I needed to walk and chatter rather than sit and listen, and I wanted to say a special thank you to someone who has cleared up a long standing wondering of mine. Claire from ElectraStim not only made my day when she let me play with her demo kit (estim has been a long term favourite but somewhat absent friend) but she also patiently discussed an odd rope query I had re bondage and large lobe holes. She will likely never know how chuffed I was to be able to have this chat with someone, and to be able to go away with the confidence that (should I find a playmate with twin lobe hoops I can probably make up some mischievous predicament for them. If I can involve an Electra Stim Axis then all the better.
  • Boobday is a meme I have been taking part in for some time now. I have always had a tempestuous relationship with my breasts, but through (excessive?) sharing of my breasts I have come to appreciate that mine can be just as sexy as everybody elses. I was so excited to see tweets flying around about a group picture, and was over the moon to find out there was time to spare before dashing for my train home. My final memory of Eroticon, captured by the wonderful woman behind Focused and Filthy my final lesson from Eroticon is that boobs are much more fun with friends!
Three rows of breasts on display for a boobday group shot at eroticon 2019
Photo credit: Focused and Filthy
Eroticon 2019 Attending

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Eroticon 2019: My ten things was first published on A Leap of Faith.

Always be a work in progress #Boobday

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Urbstract Photography caught me reflecting.

Progress is a funny thing.

Tomorrow is my birthday. Turning 35 was the end of an incredibly painful year and I was so very, very low. I can barely believe the change in me since then or the progress I have made in the last year, but finding this picture left me reflecting again. This was taken almost mid way between birthdays, and it is very easy for me to look at it and see the physical imperfections.

But that’s not what #Boobday is about!

I started making healthier choices last november, losing 4.5 stone to date. If you are have read many of my posts you will know that I enjoy running too. It isn’t the physical changes that I see in this picture. Last year I had sallow skin and almost constant panda eyes, spending the majority of my time covered in bulky clothes. The peace that I see in the picture above is my everyday now, the demons are much easier to control at the moment and I enjoy just being at peace.

At peace with myself, and with the world around me.

I may be scatty from time to time, and lose focus on the additional tasks, but the important things are taken care of.

I wonder what progress I will make over the next year.

I have many things to look forward to, goals to achieve and an enthusiasm I never had in my twenties. Exploring my kinks, meeting new people and remembering to nurture not just my children, but myself as well!

Find out what everyone else is up to for #Boobday

boob day meme

Always be a work in progress was first published on A Leap of Faith.

 

If it scares you it might be a good idea to try.

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The saying “Be careful what you wish for” comes to mind as I continue on with my memories.

Actually the exact phrase that comes to mind is Be careful what videos you save to an xHamster account that you share with your Dominant, but it doesn’t have quite the same ring to it. I have mentioned before that MrN wanted me to set up a shareable page on the popular porn site xHamster and that I had one already set up with videos of things I was curious about. When we had our next scheduled evening there was part of me which wished I had cleared out the account before sharing the log-in details, started with a clean slate with him. While I was trying to maintain concentration on the conversation, with a medium butt plug in place, he brought up one of the videos I had saved a while back…

It was a lady who was fisting herself, and she looked like she was really rather enjoying it.

He asked what had inspired my choosing that one, so I came clean. When I had started on my journey with Sir he had asked about fisting, and I said I would try but was scared as I didn’t think it would be possible for me. I may be a mum of two, but they were both born by caesarean! So I had taken to the internet for research and inspiration, following a trail of filth through stretching and fisting, anal fisting and rosebuds, finally ending up on self-fisting. The video I had saved (and watched over and over to make sure it was real, obviously) was of a young lady getting into an uncomfortable looking position, and actually managing to insert her whole hand into vagina. The faces she pulled while the video went on were not particularly alluring, but the fact that she could do it made me excited that one day I may be able to do that too. And if I could do it to myself…? Well, someone would be able to do it to me.

Why don’t you get started then? he asked me.

He made a very good case, I could take the time that I needed to gain flexibility and also to stretch myself. He didn’t mind if it took a while, but he would like to see that I was trying. The facts were that I had saved it myself and wanted to do it even though I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to. These made a good enough reason for him to ask. Not including his desire to watch me in my very own video for him… complete with those faces, which were unattractive to me but had the opposite effect on him.

That was all the incentive I needed.

At the time I was slim and fit, with very little excess tummy and a decent level of flexibility and strength. I worked out that if I wore my killer heels and perched on my bed the angles all made sense and I could reach where I needed to. It helps that I am partially double-jointed, the only use I have found for this oddity of my body (aside from being able to win hands-on-the-floor competitions at the pub.) Confident that I could reach I started working on stretching myself so that my hand would fit. The reading I had done focussed on fisting someone else. Did you know there is a Facebook group for fisting, complete with safety guidance and technique discussions??!! Because of the angles I wouldn’t be able to fully twist my wrist at the halfway point…

I was just going to have to work it out for myself, google just wasn’t ready for my curiosity!!

It took me a couple of weeks, with regular stretching and attempts, to get to the point where I thought it may be possible. I had been keeping MrN in the loop as per my progress, and he was encouraging in the face of my scepticism. I still didn’t believe that this would work. So I set up the camera, got my heels on and perched on the edge of my bed. Using my wand to moisten me up a little I used insertables to stretch myself open, and once I had an orgasm there seemed little else to do but go for it. I lubed my hand up and started.

Feeling the ripples from the preceding climax around my bunched up fingers was quite arousing in itself.

Getting to the knuckles I started to pull my fingers into a ball and managed a slight twist in my wrist. It had the desired effect of drawing the rest of my hand in, like a corkscrew. I was so surprised that I had managed it. And I was so full, I could feel my arousal all over my hand now, as I clamped down on myself. It is an indescribable sensation, and had I been more comfortable  I would have stayed there longer, but I was starting to get cramp in my side and had to remove my hand. Taking a deep breath and feeling my overstretched muscles return to size I was left with a sense of calm. The kind of peace that I associate with deep sexual satisfaction. And while the video was uploading for sending to MrN I enjoyed the company of my Doxy for a little longer, and floated off in my little bubble of joy.

The feeling of achieving a long-held goal is powerfully erotic for me, and knowing that I had pleased someone else as well… I was one happy submissive.

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