Love your rage, not your cage. #24

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Rage against the Machine was a band who I first became aware of during my marriage. There is something missing from my world of music with the loss of them, and Take The Power Back is the way that I choose to remember them. It also seems to be relevant to my life and how I became the woman I am today. Through submission and kink I have been able to take my power back.

I love music and am always on the lookout for something new to listen to, so I hope the 30-Day Song Challenge inspires some of you to share.

Look what I found! #SOSS

sharing is caring

What a week mine has been. Full of surprises, and unexpected kindness from strangers. With drama and stress surrounding my blog (or sudden lack thereof) it was suggested that I talk to @DomSigns I never expected such kindness and patience, but he showed both and more besides. Not only was his 1-1 guidance great, his  #techdaddythursday    post had the same easy to follow style. So, if you’re on twitter, go and check him out. And if you’re not sign up, and then go and check him out.

Tits and Test Tubes caught my attention with her masturbation monday post sleeper train slut. Her words conjured up so many delicious images in my mind, but this sentence brought a particularly slutty grin to my lips:

 I’m always excited when I can hear a small queue of visitors waiting patiently and somewhat sheepishly in the narrow corridor outside my cabin.

Nijntje and the Bear posted redemption is submission. I found it incredibly moving, and though this may not be her usual type of post (she popped a disclaimer at the bottom) but I wonder how many of us can relate to this in to some extent?

As someone who has particularly struggled with confidence in my breasts it was with great excitement that I joined in with  Friday is Boobday yesterday. I was particularly taken with Pieces of Jade’s post. Her beautiful smile and gentle confidence ooze sex appeal, particularly when her cleavage is on display too.

And now I am entering the weekend with a spot of edging, which ties in with a site called Edging Space I wanted to share this week. Good fuck toys stay wet is just one of a whole host of posts shared on this site, and I shall be visiting regularly to see what else comes up.

 

 

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

person standing near lake
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.

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Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

Do not be too timid and squeamish about your actions. All life is an experiment.

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My journey with MrN was underway and I was giving over a little of myself to him.

It was a peculiar sensation because I had given myself to Sir so completely and I hadn’t had the chance to take that back. MrN was the first person who had a hint of what I needed and so I felt some conflict during this phase, luckily I have always been open and honest and he was patient with my worries. It can’t have been easy to hear that his potential submissive still felt tangled up with her former Dominant, but he was understanding and made it as easy as possible for me. Just by being him and showing me the way that he wanted things done I stepped away from the past and moved forward, opening up a little at a time.

I had shared with him my initial dislike of watersports, and how the fear had given way to curiosity.

I had pushed myself to pee on camera for a self-assigned task with Sir, but had never taken it further. This was soon to change. MrN had a strong interest in pee play, and seemed to delight in my uncomfortable curiosity. The first thing that he asked me to do was to use a bowl as a toilet, and tip it over my head. He also asked for videos of both acts. I have never been gifted with technology, so it was the video part that caused me the most worry for this task. Fortunately I had a fair amount of practise with tasks over the previous year, but this was my first time in months and I felt out of practise and extremely vulnerable.

The best way to tackle those nerves was head on, so I got started on the job in hand.

Holding the phone in my hand I was able to easily capture the bowl being filled. The next stage took a bit more preparation though, if I got the angle wrong I would have to repeat the task and at this stage I didn’t know if I would be able to!! I had to move fast though, because the thought of pouring cold pee over my head was even less appealing than repeating the task. I got my phone balancing just so, sat in my bath, hit the record button, closed my eyes and….surprised myself that I wasn’t completely disgusted with myself for what I had just done. With my own pee dripping from my eyebrows, I stopped the recording, started drawing a bath and watched both back repeatedly while the bubbly hot water rose around me. Washing my body and hair I could then relax and compose an email for his inbox when he had the chance to read it.

I think he must have been very pleased with my efforts.

The next day I received a very positive email, complimenting me on my efforts and asking how I felt the following day, now that I had been able to reflect. Satisfied that I was still happy with what I had done, he asked me to repeat the task…almost. I had a pair of patent leather heels and he asked that, at my next opportunity, I pee in one of them and then drink it, again with video evidence. This was quite a big step to take, he knew that it would be a big push for me, but he also knew that I liked to be stretched.

Make sure you have plenty to drink, it will taste less strong that way was his guidance. 

So, on the next occasion where I had a child free home I hydrated well, took my phone and shoe into the bathroom, and off I went. The shoe was tricky to pee into, because of the shape. For some reason it was important to me that it didn’t overflow, so I had to stop mid flow! When I moved onto the second phase I just kept the camera on, holding it in one hand while, on the selfie screen, I watched myself tip my head back and drink. I drained the shoe. Not in one fluid motion, it took me a few goes and I gagged a number of times, but I did it!! I was pleased to be well hydrated, the flavour wasn’t unbearable to me but I could see how awful pee would taste if there was a lack of fluids.

Again, I ran the bath, and emptied myself while I did so. 

Relaxing in the bath I sent him the evidence and a short email. I explained how pleased I had been to complete this challenge, that I was surprised at how not-unpleasant the experience had been and discussed how, in my efforts for perfection, I was disappointed in the way my gag reflex had betrayed my willingness. His response “Well done N, you have done really well, good girl” It seems that I was the only one disappointed in my gag reflex. Life is all about experimenting and trying new things, and having someone to share that with made me more at ease with myself. shoe

And suddenly you just know it is time to start something new and trust the magic of new beginnings

happiness

Life seemed to be going quite well.

The sale of my marital home was nearing completion and I had a new flat to move into with my boys. They were settling into a new life with two homes. I had been promoted at work, had an increased case-load and became responsible for training new staff. I had some new friends who made me smile, and offered unconditional support. I had been able to assert myself in the kink world with my foot caning play partner. Also, it was the summertime so I was swimming in the sea and running as often as possible.

To top it all off I finally had an interesting message on BeMyDom.

He was polite and respectful, not pushy or sex orientated. He was looking for a submissive, someone who was keen to push themselves and try hard for him. I was hesitant to start with. He was in a long-term vanilla relationship and had no intention of leaving her. I struggled most with this aspect as I had no desire to be a dirty secret, especially if she was a good person. I could rationalise my infidelity, because P wasn’t very nice but this felt bad, and not in a good way. Also he was 3-4 hours drive away, which would mean we would mainly have an online relationship, hotel meetings may happen once every 3 months or so, but chances would be slim. I didn’t know if I was ready to give myself over to someone else, and if I was would I be good enough…? Also, he didn’t like to share his submissive.

In the end the prospect of an online relationship, with a married man, felt safer than a local single Dominant.

There was less pressure on us both, and I could start to free myself a little bit. MrN had a way about him which put me at ease, he was gentle and kind though firm.  We were both busy with our lives and so contact was an evening every week or so, with an email each way every day. We discussed likes and dislikes, needs and boundaries, hopes and dreams. I made a case for having freedom with other men if I asked first, he agreed because he would be in bed with his partner every  night and wanted things to be fair for me.

And so he began to set me to work, with tasks and rules.

The tasks that he set me in the first couple of weeks were sourcing items. Nothing expensive or that would need specialist retailers. My list included:

  • little bulldog clips
  • string
  • drawing pins
  • pegs
  • deep heat
  • medicine syringes
  • a small bucket

True to form I got hold of everything that was required. Then I had some preparations to do, DIY deviance. The syringes became nipple and clitoral pumps. He had originally suggested the calpol syringes for this, but I had to go to the local country stores and buy some animal medicine syringes for the right sizes. I had to cut four length of string to match my inner thighs, tying a loop in one end of each and attaching a peg to the end.

These strings puzzled me, I could not figure out what they were for! I was told to pop them in a safe place for a later date.

There were more things to make, things to keep me out of mischief. Many of the creations puzzled me, but my questions were met with the same answer… Put them away, try not to think about them. So I would put them away and mull over the possibilities. He asked me to set up an xHamster account for us to share. I could then save videos that I liked, as could he, and we could discuss. I already had an account, so sent him over the details. A couple of the videos which I had saved before coming into contact with him later became inspiration for him. And the videos that he shared with me were very interesting for different reasons. He had a heel fetish, as well as a sadistic streak when it came to pretty feet and a love of watersports. We had common ground in feet, and my curiosity about pee play, but my inability to walk in heels meant that his shoe fetish scared me in the best possible way.

I never felt that MrN was my forever Dominant, but for now we were able to give something to each other. 

carpe diem

I really respond to putting myself out of my own depth and finding my feet.

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There is something which was of interest to me, something I wanted to learn more about and I definitely wanted to try it.

Bastinado

I had seen clips of it in a large number of porn movies, and I was curious about it, but I had no idea how to get started. For the first time in my journey I was stepping into unknown territory without an experienced hand to guide me, or discuss possibilities with. So I found some groups on Fetlife and got chatting with a number of people. It seems that there is a shortage of female submissives who are interested in having their feet caned! I could not think why; I had grown up walking barefoot on shingle beaches, sometimes for miles and once shredding my soles.

It had always had the effect of making me feel alive, invigorated. 

With a gap in the market I was inundated with offers for play with “experienced” men, many of whom were across oceans. I was always polite in my rejections, pointing out that it was unrealistic to pursue play relationships with them, and am still in contact with some of them. It is always nice to see what people are getting up to when they pop up on my newsfeed. There was one person who was fairly local, had a full profile and checked out well. H was very open about the fact that feet and foot caning were his main fetishes and he had not met anyone locally who could endure this kind of play, let alone enjoy it.

We agreed to meet up for dinner the following week, and I continued with my research. 

H had labelled himself as a sadist, but all of his pictures were of smiling bottoms. I did a bit a digging about him, because there is no point being part of a community if you don’t use it, he came up in a positive light even if he was a bit of a player… but that didn’t matter because I wasn’t looking for a new Dominant, just a mutually beneficial friendship. So we met up in the town I had suggested, and then struggled to find somewhere to eat due to it being the local beer festival the following day. We finally found a pub which had space for us. He turned out to be a feeder, ordering soup while I ordered lasagne. He barely touched the soup, but made sure I finished all of my meal. Over this peculiar mealtime we chatted, and he was very good company. He had interesting stories to tell about his upbringing and what brought him to the world of kink. He was married to a vanilla wife, and they lived separate lives. He had a submissive who had a boyfriend. It was clear to me that he wanted the same thing as me, friendship and foot caning.

The perfect way to start mending my broken kinky heart.

We agreed to meet up a couple of weeks later, and he asked me to try out using a wooden spoon on my feet in the meantime. And so it began, I was finding my feet, and learning more about myself. My task was to spank the soles of my feet ten times each, at a medium intensity. I did this one night after the boys were in bed and P was at work on a night shift, it meant that I could take my time to endure or enjoy, whichever it would be. What a sensation?! A little bit of a sting, but I was not expecting a funny pins-and-needles type feeling to spread over my soles. I realised that I was definitely going to fall in the enjoy group for bastinado. Next he suggested I stand on my door mat, bare foot, for a period of ten minutes. It was easy so I stayed longer, seeing if it would get uncomfortable (it didn’t). After reporting back to him he replied that he was very pleased with my level of submission, and that I was very close to the level he would want me to be at. This was a surprise as I had no feelings of submission towards him just a sense of exploration and adventure, but it had a healing effect on me.

Maybe I wasn’t a bad submissive after all.

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