tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21939954820727393352024-03-18T23:06:56.646-04:00Submissive MissionsThis geeky woman submits to her Sir.Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.comBlogger441125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-41084848752535598782022-01-22T18:06:00.005-05:002022-01-22T18:12:13.011-05:00Still Submissive, Even in This Shitshow<p> It's been a shitshow around here lately.</p><p>We'd been planning our wedding celebration. Fully vaxxed with every safety measure we could put in place (other than just not doing it). My family has been awful - only one aunt and her kids, and my one uncle were going to attend. I have a large family (and most of the folks not attending were not because of the pandemic; I totally get that!)<br /><br />Three days before the new year, I fell down the stairs at work and injured myself badly. I've been on crutches since, and probably have another few weeks to go. Was going to be on crutches for our celebration.<br /></p><p>Jump through hurdle after hurdle to get this celebration going, make peace with being on crutches for our big day and get to the day before our wedding celebration.<br /><br />And Sir gets Covid. Symptoms overnight, and tests positive that afternoon. We had to cancel everything, and because it was so close to the date, we end up having to pay for the entire thing, too. I get symptoms a few days later and also test positive. It's just so frustrating because we'd been so careful about everything. I'd been self quarantining from everyone while at work (eating alone in my office, etc).</p><p>So we're in full quarantine for another week, but finally starting to turn the corner, symptoms-wise. It's just not been a good scene around here. </p><p>I finally hit my breaking point. The point where I could no longer cope with life and everything it seems to throw at us, repeatedly over and over. You try to be positive, and practice gratitude (because sometimes there ARE good things, or you do realize that things could be so much worse!) but the negative has been drowning that out for me.<br /><br />I had a bit of a breakdown. After increased therapy appointments, I have a shiny new mental health prescription and hopefully I will see a difference in a month.</p><p>Our pipes also froze this morning. Just.... come on, man. We're working on that today, and we're okay. It all just seems like I've pissed off the universe, somehow.</p><p>-----</p><p>One good moment though, that I want to remember.</p><p>Last night, Sir told me he had one task for me today - to empty the dishrack of the dishes he washed. (I got a special hands-free crutch, so I am a little more functional now than when I was on the traditional style crutches).<br /><br />So, today I go to do it, and I cannot get the tupperware put away (they go in a high cabinet that I need a stepstool to access. I can't use the stepstool with the crutch, though). He told me nevermind, I'll take care of it.<br /><br />I was determined to do as he asked though. He hasn't given me a task in ages. He's been actually waiting on me hand and foot while I'm healing from my injury. <br /><br />For the first time in a while, I felt that need to serve. Sir set me a task, and dangit, I was going to do it. So he agreed to have me just put the tupperwares aside and just get everything else that I could reach. So I did. And I felt fulfilled for the moment.</p><p>I was happy because I guess with everything, I feared that part of me, the submissive part, was gone too. </p><p>But she's still in there, somewhere.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEia7MjwKG259PJc1cCMYwZokjSO4EbOX-m6iqwpLyAh92_yBcwmfzK4qWppGqHaRl6mMTdnRtjrP6O2IT9ZxZx1ZcmCLESOWEwWXTQW6nlUZ8TyHgFOwqCqhUrtUDN4EVHZvRIANmbY4HreMTFj9Cf-7d8xSPz1VwxvPwPMivvhaLsjFTHVqXJW2r4NYA=s1200" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEia7MjwKG259PJc1cCMYwZokjSO4EbOX-m6iqwpLyAh92_yBcwmfzK4qWppGqHaRl6mMTdnRtjrP6O2IT9ZxZx1ZcmCLESOWEwWXTQW6nlUZ8TyHgFOwqCqhUrtUDN4EVHZvRIANmbY4HreMTFj9Cf-7d8xSPz1VwxvPwPMivvhaLsjFTHVqXJW2r4NYA=s320" width="320" /></a></div>Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-72549709876062235362021-10-06T15:00:00.007-04:002021-10-06T15:00:00.205-04:00How to Make Your Little Happy #572<p>Sir and I have been trying to take a walk together after work each night. Get into a routine.<br /><br />During our most recent walk, the local candy store was open! They've been closed for a while due to the pandemic.<br /><br />This store is great. They always have amazing window displays, too. It was exciting to be able to walk in there and pick things out.<br /><br />Sir let me have some candy too. </p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifu9cvSvfrkS5bXO_uRjSitTR3szyiS0vN7drjVrktPyWpsZu5quLIs9nLFy5Sb2oArT6vSNdHViM__NszDiVWH6WTV0Rl1ajDnTMK2jyGnG5FNeRtE8VEdUwAWpksdJSunK8WC5-czTVp/s903/Sir%2527s+walk+with+his+little.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="903" data-original-width="677" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifu9cvSvfrkS5bXO_uRjSitTR3szyiS0vN7drjVrktPyWpsZu5quLIs9nLFy5Sb2oArT6vSNdHViM__NszDiVWH6WTV0Rl1ajDnTMK2jyGnG5FNeRtE8VEdUwAWpksdJSunK8WC5-czTVp/s320/Sir%2527s+walk+with+his+little.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The lime green ones are my favorite!</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />I was so happy to enjoy the candy on our walk. I felt little, and carefree. Skipping along in my mind.<br /><br />Thank you, Sir!</p>Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-59965454970894787002021-09-28T21:54:00.001-04:002021-09-28T21:54:00.270-04:00Not that kind of Switch, Mom!<p> For my birthday, Sir gifted me a <a href="https://www.nintendo.com/switch/">Switch</a>. And of course, my favorite <a href="https://www.zelda.com/">video game </a>to go with it. We're finally getting to a place where discretionary income is a thing again!<br /><br />I was floored and so very excited! I'm a huge Zelda fan. I've been playing nearly my entire life with my dad. This will actually be the first major console Zelda release I'll play entirely without him. <br /><br />My mom called to wish me a Happy Birthday and asked if I had gotten a present from Sir. So I told her excitedly that he got me a Switch.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIRpC9TqupqqHrNe12bitbcrc8BVZaA-j7gbyJNysnAhpURVSuPBCY7k8ClSjAj3xtjVmR1Fhyphenhyphen1bI579kzcUsB41xSsjN56_w22qe8wb8nJployQmYn5US4PbqyK32rGqsQUCCka0HrrBd/s542/Switches.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="538" data-original-width="542" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIRpC9TqupqqHrNe12bitbcrc8BVZaA-j7gbyJNysnAhpURVSuPBCY7k8ClSjAj3xtjVmR1Fhyphenhyphen1bI579kzcUsB41xSsjN56_w22qe8wb8nJployQmYn5US4PbqyK32rGqsQUCCka0HrrBd/w200-h199/Switches.png" width="200" /></a></div><p>She was silent for a long time.<br /><br />Then she said quietly, "... like, to beat you with?"<br /><br />Oh. My. God.<br /><br />I just started laughing. I couldn't even breathe. <br /><br />In between gasps of air, I replied:<br /><br />"Yeah, and he made me pick it out and cut it off the tree, too."<br /><br /> I eventually explained to her that no, of course it's not that kind of switch; that it's a Nintendo (she remembers me and my dad playing the old ones).<br /><br />I'm just thinking of the other use of the word. Her brain would probably implode.<br /><br />This exchange did make me wonder. Is this just a fluke? Her old-school sense of that word and the only thing she could think of?<br /><br />Or does she somehow, <i>know</i>?<br /><br />I suppose it could be both.<br /><br />Hopefully not, though!</p>Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-85679056492491675582021-09-23T21:26:00.000-04:002021-09-23T21:26:17.674-04:00Birthday Spankings<p>My birthday was last week. Our original plans with friends got cancelled.<br /><br />But being home and alone does have its advantages.<br /><br />I woke up being spanked. After several sets, Sir asked me if I knew how many were in each set. I did not.<br /><br />"Are you not counting?" Sir asked.<br /><br />"No... I'm barely awake," I replied.<br /><br />"Well, you should."<br /><br />So I did. Sir was spanking me in repeated sets of 38.<br /></p><p>"Happy Birthday, Bitch".</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.birthdaypartyinvitations.info/view.file.84238_birthday_spanking_4_25x5_5_paper_invitation_card-r699afc9f97df4d4b9502b4cc8f530dcc_zk91q_560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="560" height="291" src="https://www.birthdaypartyinvitations.info/view.file.84238_birthday_spanking_4_25x5_5_paper_invitation_card-r699afc9f97df4d4b9502b4cc8f530dcc_zk91q_560.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-23719127149157303862021-08-02T21:48:00.006-04:002021-08-02T21:48:00.252-04:00Little at Times<p> Sir and I have realized over the years, that I definitely have a little side.<br /><br />I don't know her exact age, but somewhere between 5-8 I think.<br /><br />There are times where it's more pronounced than others.<br /><br />But there is a time of day where it is pretty consistent. And that is bedtime.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLReVJ4TC_W_tkaxpBzcZuVVQ_-l8JA8Zq5vBDCL5j6Wa2rdk-4wiXpv3hcj4oDo9LqKkMWysvEtwUKmtWPPg2K5LllPFqx8VPtq2CiphSlFqGcNjaOUEFMqvVdNPXFlyySygd8_9VR1pO/s491/Dream+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="491" data-original-width="481" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLReVJ4TC_W_tkaxpBzcZuVVQ_-l8JA8Zq5vBDCL5j6Wa2rdk-4wiXpv3hcj4oDo9LqKkMWysvEtwUKmtWPPg2K5LllPFqx8VPtq2CiphSlFqGcNjaOUEFMqvVdNPXFlyySygd8_9VR1pO/s320/Dream+2.png" /></a></div><p>Every night when we're getting ready for bed, I definitely feel little. Perhaps its that nighttime desire to be tucked in and cuddled. Perhaps a desire to feel safe before bed. Safe like a child, when life was simpler, and there was less to worry about.<br /><br />Maybe it's nightly exhaustion removing some internal barriers.<br /><br />I'm sure now, in listing an "age" there's some things there to unpack in therapy (my parents split when I was 7, so that being my age range... I'm sure that's linked somehow).</p><p>But I think I'm okay with it. Sometimes being little is confusing for me. But sometimes it really is nice to just... let everything go, and know I am safe with Sir. That he is going to take care of me, and everything is going to be okay until tomorrow.</p>Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-45094393467203643902021-07-26T21:40:00.001-04:002021-07-26T21:40:00.244-04:00New Nightly Ritual<p>Lately, Sir has been staying up much later that I do.<br /><br />It seems I just can't go to sleep without him, though.<br /><br />I'd feel tired, get up and put myself in bed...</p><p>And just wait there. Whether intentionally or not, my body and brain is waiting for him. And my sleep had been really suffering for it.<br /><br />Now we have a new nightly ritual, and it's a great solution of Sir's.<br /><br />He now puts me to bed every night.<br /><br />I'll get into bed, and he'll join me. I'll cuddle up with my head on his lap. We'll chat softly, and he'll pet my hair until I fall asleep. <br /><br />Then, he'll gingerly slide out of bed and he can stay up as long as he wants.<br /><br />It's a win-win.</p>Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-78714136273178985182021-07-19T21:47:00.002-04:002021-07-20T20:34:32.968-04:00Sir's Brand of Kindness<p>Sir has me pinned to the bed. Held down at his mercy as I wiggle and struggle to no avail.<br /><br />He gets both of my hands pinned with one of his, and reaches back with his other hand in a move that is both hilarious to witness in its contortion, but sexy in its dominance.<br /><br />I realize that look in his eye.<br /><br />"Sir, please. No.... not the sock off your foot!"<br /><br />He was kind.<br /><br />He got up and gagged me with a clean sock.<br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-KUvoEiBwwWlvqZ9Dk7gHxkpacpvej3SPK7LqXXkA8LPei4PERDWToiEUa3naSz0FvS1pL9sRF5GiWFxdaNx-ib7BsmXGYjFEM9aiBdL0-VKE7ngR-vqdlEluL2OYQl0il1q3zYvuTwjZ/s257/kindness+is+kinky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="226" data-original-width="257" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-KUvoEiBwwWlvqZ9Dk7gHxkpacpvej3SPK7LqXXkA8LPei4PERDWToiEUa3naSz0FvS1pL9sRF5GiWFxdaNx-ib7BsmXGYjFEM9aiBdL0-VKE7ngR-vqdlEluL2OYQl0il1q3zYvuTwjZ/w200-h176/kindness+is+kinky.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-41223250299827899012021-07-12T21:12:00.003-04:002021-07-12T21:28:59.148-04:00This Photo is Love<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4z4x-d6Wn5Gg2KBn8i8WomfeBsOzXPKbn2sMO1i2EbOmRWMqiy3UWTSscpqTYLMAfpX2xB2PcRR2x9Jdiv7di3k-T2jgq7dvv0_yHPa-DKYl7-bas3m-kvkMavLtMcp9f-rwUkJB3ZDe/s903/Sir+at+the+beach.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="903" data-original-width="677" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4z4x-d6Wn5Gg2KBn8i8WomfeBsOzXPKbn2sMO1i2EbOmRWMqiy3UWTSscpqTYLMAfpX2xB2PcRR2x9Jdiv7di3k-T2jgq7dvv0_yHPa-DKYl7-bas3m-kvkMavLtMcp9f-rwUkJB3ZDe/w300-h400/Sir+at+the+beach.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>This photo is love.</p><p>Looking at it, I am immediately swimming in affection for this man.<br /><br />The beach is not Sir's thing.<br /><br />But it is absolutely *my* thing. <br /><br />Any beach, even a lake beach, has some sort of restorative power to me. After a visit, even just a couple of hours, I am happier, and relaxed.<br /><br />So Sir came with me to the beach last weekend. I definitely needed it. And though it's not really his thing, there he is.<br /><br />And that is love.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaabeQsajo6il6N6P7Cm8P-eLaQMIQXItN8BXH4aumsDQeuJJpIr6HGIJHL4uDfYk3PKU82_oACUBgBlaMhHPxVLcDU-MG9e9744jBK7mJ8LjgnD9m8fzHe-pBqDah69PYUcrunvyANiW/s619/PngItem_130711.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="619" height="30" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaabeQsajo6il6N6P7Cm8P-eLaQMIQXItN8BXH4aumsDQeuJJpIr6HGIJHL4uDfYk3PKU82_oACUBgBlaMhHPxVLcDU-MG9e9744jBK7mJ8LjgnD9m8fzHe-pBqDah69PYUcrunvyANiW/w30-h30/PngItem_130711.png" width="30" /></a></p><br />Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-91303186282553038982021-06-06T16:27:00.004-04:002021-06-06T16:51:32.234-04:00Depression and Not Feeling Kinky<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNX2Gb8EJ4MztXsYggDV3o7_Bj8RGlQG5jHrPT9FF0wukc0LUHYp_rHLHkOIg_4IpeCfl6l-FSOSjUVHgaGJPB5yFl1GlkUhqoL2zz98nsYCeEqes61fotb1-4byciYErBOzbWqRgiIFeP/s500/Depression+n+Kink.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNX2Gb8EJ4MztXsYggDV3o7_Bj8RGlQG5jHrPT9FF0wukc0LUHYp_rHLHkOIg_4IpeCfl6l-FSOSjUVHgaGJPB5yFl1GlkUhqoL2zz98nsYCeEqes61fotb1-4byciYErBOzbWqRgiIFeP/w157-h157/Depression+n+Kink.png" width="157" /></a></div><br />Last night while I was sleeping, Sir sent me a message via Fetlife. That is typically how we communicate about kinky things in our relationship. So if I see a Fetlife message from him, I know right away the general gist of the content, as opposed to him sending a regular email or the like.<br /><br />It made me so pleased! We've had a rough go of it lately.My caregiving duties for my mother have steadily ramped up and up and up - and as the depression and despair creeped in, I made less and less time for myself, and for us. It's one of the reasons why I haven't been writing here as often, I think. I've been going to therapy for over a year now, and it's helped tremendously. I'm now also on a medication that while is not prescribed for depression, is definitely helping in that regard. Conversely, my mother has needed even more attention in the past year. She's been hospitalized twice, and is currently in skilled nursing. We're not sure if she will be able to go home, and since she is not handling her situation herself (though she *is* capable) its being dumped into my lap. Which is how she usually operates. With all that going on, I just haven't made time for me. I haven't felt "like me" in awhile.<br /><br />The other reason for the lack of writing is that to be frank, there wasn't that much kink going on *to* write about. Sir has also been having a rough go of it. He was unemployed for the last 14 months. For Sir, his sense of self-worth and confidence is definitely tied to his career. So being unemployed (through no fault of his own), really tanked his self-esteem. And that tanked his ability to be dominant, or even *feel* dominant. <br /><br />Last month, he accepted a job offer for a true unicorn job in his field. And in the weeks since, I've seen his demeanor improve so much! He is definitely less depressed, more confident and I felt like he was starting to feel more dominant as well. Him reaching out last night proves that, I think.<br /><br />I am so ready for that. I miss that side of him, and I miss us.Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-27906981338440264082021-03-29T22:12:00.006-04:002021-03-29T22:12:34.220-04:00The Wait<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-PG6UuSUfCWqhdBZDlB3_Ritr94b086e8iWbnirbLB9iOLp0bpVFPCATJERZkIOGHGiUaEd_2r-TWOwywCTfLMt6DZZfD-PpOF8CXbyTnABpqE7adZSocSK4Ct_BTOq9wq_aPy1uSpU2/s890/office+chair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="668" data-original-width="890" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-PG6UuSUfCWqhdBZDlB3_Ritr94b086e8iWbnirbLB9iOLp0bpVFPCATJERZkIOGHGiUaEd_2r-TWOwywCTfLMt6DZZfD-PpOF8CXbyTnABpqE7adZSocSK4Ct_BTOq9wq_aPy1uSpU2/w265-h199/office+chair.jpg" width="265" /></a></div> I sit in our office, in my customary computer chair. Sir sits in his. We are side by side.<br /><br />He tells me to close my eyes. I feel him place a very comfortable blindfold over my face.<br /><br />A gift, he says.<br /><br />He is going to conduct a test.<br /><br />And then... I wait.<br /><br /><br />At first, I fidget in my seat, slightly. Subtle movements of my limbs, stretching my fingers. Wiggling my hips.<br /><br />I swing my legs, as if I am a child.<br /><br />Eventually, I spin my chair around. I feel Sir's presence approach me. Steady hands firmly stopping my chair, and pressing it back to the wall, so I can no longer spin. He says nothing, but the message is clear.<br /><br />He has not told me I cannot speak, but with his silence, I feel the weight of the blindfold over my lips in addition to my eyes.<br /><br />Eventually, I relax.<br /><br />In this moment, there is nothing I need to do. Nowhere else I need to be. Nothing to be responsible for.<br /><br /><br />All I have to do, is wait.<p></p>Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-27058853921952348412021-02-09T23:30:00.000-05:002021-02-09T23:30:10.654-05:00Subtle BDSM in Our Wedding<p> So, at our wedding a few weeks ago, Sir and I wanted to incorporate somehow, in a subtle manner, some of the, ahem, *other* elements of our relationship. I of course wore my wristcollar, as I do everyday. But we wanted something more.<br /><br />So, we decided to do a handfasting. Sir made the cords himself from bondage rope, and he attached charms to represent us both.<br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2FUL_QitSy6XnnVrkvUXlv3hLNnHtDHoJF4H4GZJNK7zUO8-dGutNJH6Ednly7ZpxTr1t_u7jdfyaIgP2OO53_UpJcbdxRwO-d6y3WoTIzQS23kmjN2STeaUt-j2HA1SisWWnPQ5sJUaU/s1379/Bound+in+Marriage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="870" data-original-width="1379" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2FUL_QitSy6XnnVrkvUXlv3hLNnHtDHoJF4H4GZJNK7zUO8-dGutNJH6Ednly7ZpxTr1t_u7jdfyaIgP2OO53_UpJcbdxRwO-d6y3WoTIzQS23kmjN2STeaUt-j2HA1SisWWnPQ5sJUaU/w516-h326/Bound+in+Marriage.jpg" width="516" /></a></div><br /><div>They really are just... beautiful.<br /><br />The funny thing is, when the minister asked us for our cords before the ceremony, she remarked to the rest of the group, "Oh, don't worry, it's not for anything kinky..."</div><div><br /></div><div>Reverend, if you only knew. (She probably does.)</div>Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-77403838491141250262021-01-23T23:58:00.001-05:002021-01-24T00:02:24.795-05:00Married!<p> 2020 was a heck of a year, and a lot of it was awful even without Covid gumming up the works. I think it's best to just move on. Goodness.<br /><br />But Sir and I kicked off 2021 in a HUGE way. We got married on our 10th Anniversary! Finally!<br /><br />Sir is not only the Dominant, he is the Husband! I am not only the submissive, but I am the wife!<br /><br />It is surreal. The entire ordeal was really stressful, and the week leading up to it ranks pretty high up there with the worst experiences of my life. All the things we had to go through just to get to this moment... Plus, my family is just awful sometimes... I just can't. His was not helping, either. This was not just normal wedding stress... sometimes it feels like these people go out of their way to make shit more difficult than it has to be. I asked my maids of honor, who are both married and they confirmed that what I was dealing with was above normal. I wish it weren't, but it can be nice to be validated sometimes.<br /><br />I started going to therapy for the first time this past year to help myself navigate this mess and stand up for myself, but as one of my friends said, this was like being dumped into the final boss battle of boundaries and skipping all the other levels and power-ups along the way. I couldn't handle it properly and ended up doing everything for everyone else when I needed to be getting things done for and focusing on us. I am salty, but I am trying to let it go and focus on the good things.<br /><br />Once I was walking down that aisle, everything did melt away. It was just me and Sir. With about a week's distance from the event, I can finally start to release the awful parts and embrace the good parts. And process that it is real. It DID happen. I can start to be excited!<br /><br />We got hitched in a simple but lovely ceremony with just 10 people in attendance - our immediate families plus the maids of honor and best men. The minister was just perfect in representing us. We are hoping to plan a "Part II" next year and have an actual reception with all our loved ones and the customary traditions. We pretty much got married, then had a quick dinner to thank those that stood up for us this year, and bounced.<br /><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzMQa3FUOzFOymmOGEIrqZDmOlGXCA-tEBPkN4PNEQusVgepu_icf31GB_S5_J4RFh3fUp7_mJeWFq05mm1Vt3SHQlPgmlth8tINGuiUbTcWbnEnfNOl0H_hAsnYTBvTIxNKESGP-mwpbW/s805/Blerg+collage+2.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="803" data-original-width="805" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzMQa3FUOzFOymmOGEIrqZDmOlGXCA-tEBPkN4PNEQusVgepu_icf31GB_S5_J4RFh3fUp7_mJeWFq05mm1Vt3SHQlPgmlth8tINGuiUbTcWbnEnfNOl0H_hAsnYTBvTIxNKESGP-mwpbW/w400-h399/Blerg+collage+2.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #666666;"> We are wed!</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We honestly passed out on our wedding night - all the stress and sleeplessness catching up with us. But after our families left the next day we were able to have a good wedding weekend. We were able to celebrate each other properly with a 'wedding night', and reinforce the D/s side of things in our relationship. It was reassuring to me - just because we are married, that part of us is not gone! After 10 years, we are still surprising each other, still experiencing new things. Sir did things to me on my wedding night I'd never experienced before. He also made sure I knew who I belong to. It makes me love him all the more. <br /><br />And I still want to be Sir's submissive, more than ever.<br /><br />Submissive wife now! <3</div>Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-67972461435728366722020-03-27T12:08:00.001-04:002020-03-27T12:50:07.483-04:00I'm Not Asking<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Sir:<br />
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"Just because I'm saying it in the form of a question does not mean I am <b>asking</b>."<br />
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Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-75747310822942831962020-01-03T23:35:00.001-05:002020-01-03T23:35:04.892-05:00Beat to Sleep<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Stuff has been pretty rough lately. I don't know if I have the words or energy to get into everything.<br /><br />Yesterday, Sir decided that I was to get a beating. That I needed one. I agreed with him.<br /><br />Except, I fell asleep right in the middle of it. Face down on our bed while in a spreader bar, getting hit and flogged and whipped.<br /><br />One part of me finds that utterly ridiculous. Who does that? Does it indicate boredom, or a lack of interest in the goings on? I don't think so though.<br /><br />Another part of me finds a bit of total surrender in it. The utter relaxation of impact play, and the complete trust in Sir.<br /><br />We both hit on that trust when we spoke about it today.<br /><br />A few weeks ago, I did something bad (nothing hugely catastrophic, but bad nonetheless). Sir said he was disappointed in me, and lost trust in me. It has really stuck with me and tore at my heart.<br />
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But last night showed me that perhaps not all trust is lost.</div>
Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-7392798683034110512019-12-25T21:49:00.001-05:002019-12-25T22:14:03.634-05:00Merry Christmas 2019<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Merry Christmas 2019 from our home to yours!</span></b></div>
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Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-37452326507570035092019-12-17T20:20:00.002-05:002019-12-17T20:20:54.275-05:00Winter Uniform<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">Sir has been struggling with deciding what my winter uniform will be. He likes me having a uniform. But he also acknowledges that my original uniform would not be practical for the winter - I'd freeze.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbv4i5VynYgSh-_uCRsW6uTFQtbg2uYyVyqGBjtq8eeqBlKZyG5ksVkNYfRDoYWvBgrkgsOxPufp7jfSQtmy33cYq1A5IFuJ5F-7-uG8CMBBrFwAnrozP9tfiWST8IiKW-fBT4BJqfZAb/s1600/Not+the+Winter+Uniform.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="698" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbv4i5VynYgSh-_uCRsW6uTFQtbg2uYyVyqGBjtq8eeqBlKZyG5ksVkNYfRDoYWvBgrkgsOxPufp7jfSQtmy33cYq1A5IFuJ5F-7-uG8CMBBrFwAnrozP9tfiWST8IiKW-fBT4BJqfZAb/s400/Not+the+Winter+Uniform.jpg" width="278" /></a></div>
<br />This look is pretty cute, but even with the fuzzy socks, I'd be a popsicle.<br /><br /><br />So, it took Sir a bit to figure out what he wanted, but he decided that my winter "uniform" will be my cuffs at my wrists and ankles.<br /><br />I can wear my fuzzy socks and comfy pants and big green robe, as long as I have the cuffs on. My head thinks its a win and I agree.<br />
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Though it is still taking some getting used to getting them on and off. It is not part of my routine. I admit, in the morning when I am tired and grumpy and it is taking longer to get them off so I can get ready for work on time ... I am grumbling.<br /><br />But I am doing it!</div>
Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-16770497457993547442019-12-02T22:42:00.001-05:002019-12-02T22:42:09.946-05:00Update - Stress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Life can just get so... stressful sometimes.<br /><br />I am really truly excited to get married. I love Sir, and I want to spend my life with him.<br />
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But wedding planning is a lot of work! I see why they have professional planners that get paid lots of money to do this.<br /><br />We've done a lot in the planning department thus far, especially considering our wedding is not for over a year! We have the ceremony and reception locations, caterers, menu picked out (the tasting is next month!), officiant and DJ. Our invitations and Save-the-Dates are done (ready to be sent when we're ready to send them). Our wedding website is 90% done.<br />
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Between planning, the craziness at work (they sent me to Denver for training which was amazing, but exhausting), the holidays, my brother being gravely injured, and dealing with my mom... it is hard for me to make time to blog.<br /><br />I like blogging, I like the time to process and connect and write. But when I let it get away from me, it snowballs and snowballs until I feel like I have to play catch up, and it's too much to catch up on, so I get overwhelmed and avoid it.<br /><br />So I'm going to just get on here and write from time to time and try not to let the rest get to me (the catching up).<br />
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Denver was truly amazing. I'd never been out west before. The landscape was a real shock to me. The beauty. The mountains! I spent most of my time holed up in the hotel with classes and trainings and events, but we did have one day of field trips and they really crammed a lot into that one day (we went to a nature center, a zoo, a museum, and a mountain park!)<br /><br />My brother is having surgery in two weeks. He was really hurt at work to the point that we're lucky he is alive, and not paralyzed. But he is and has been in a tremendous amount of pain, and will probably never work again. I'm going out there to be with him and the family. Fingers crossed it all goes all right!<br />
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I'm going away again on Wednesday for work. Another meeting. Another night away from Sir. At least work pays for these things. I feel so fancy sometimes with my business trips, ha!<br /><br />In the meantime, now that it is cold, Sir has been thinking up ideas for a winter uniform. Can't have me going around in a white tank top and nothing else in this freezing weather!<br />
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... Well, I guess he COULD, but I am glad that he is electing to do something else.<br />
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Hope you're all staying warm (or cool as the case may be!) and having lovely holidays!<br /><br /></div>
Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-23334762724592083362019-09-27T22:32:00.002-04:002019-09-27T22:33:26.440-04:00Spank Against the Machine<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My uncle is a historian and he posted this on his social media this week:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg67x3UuKEJCihH6FdriTJ1DhU5KZfCZ6IYT_ycXlu_ZfpDxBnRy7YlPNHA0hvCVaO8FU64JDDndvnkAd32ugPh9J-Po4yQD1_SUnwQ2jD10LvuIGeLyngNUO_qBYLYZTDUHp7Kpv-isvuy/s1600/70725011_693717137809506_5741308055597875200_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="567" data-original-width="339" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg67x3UuKEJCihH6FdriTJ1DhU5KZfCZ6IYT_ycXlu_ZfpDxBnRy7YlPNHA0hvCVaO8FU64JDDndvnkAd32ugPh9J-Po4yQD1_SUnwQ2jD10LvuIGeLyngNUO_qBYLYZTDUHp7Kpv-isvuy/s640/70725011_693717137809506_5741308055597875200_n.jpg" width="382" /></a></div>
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I had wondered if this was actually real. If it was, I thought maybe they invented it as a way to discipline children... <br />
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Well, it is real! But it actually was invented for fraternity initiation rituals.<br />
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How interesting.<br />
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<a href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/demoulin-museum">https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/demoulin-museum</a></div>
Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-8249787202153023662019-09-23T23:08:00.002-04:002019-09-23T23:08:52.150-04:00Uniform Decisions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">Sir made some decisions about the uniform. The A-shirt stands. I've been wearing it for about a week and a half now.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBDuFPipc3pPw6UVSPsiqne0TroxVXkJLtJ6WpA7B6QEHDZMB645JJNf4ipKZoJHvv9RRmH3o7PKTg_QHs8ijRooBHSO9iGW19cXvwA7OaxfYpRc4YqaMmfUxDXn2Sy45IZAQxY-bFLPg/s1600/Lea+Uniform+Back.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="785" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBDuFPipc3pPw6UVSPsiqne0TroxVXkJLtJ6WpA7B6QEHDZMB645JJNf4ipKZoJHvv9RRmH3o7PKTg_QHs8ijRooBHSO9iGW19cXvwA7OaxfYpRc4YqaMmfUxDXn2Sy45IZAQxY-bFLPg/s400/Lea+Uniform+Back.jpg" width="196" /></a></div>
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It is taking some getting used to, but in general I like it. I do feel a little bit too exposed, but in a way, that can be a good thing...</div>
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Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-24360196191863542812019-09-16T23:30:00.001-04:002019-09-16T23:30:45.751-04:00Back from the Banks<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sir and I have just returned from a fantastic vacation to the Outer Banks.<br /><br />I haven't been able to relax like this in a long while. We rented this baller-ass house with friends. It slept 14, had a hot tub, a pool, a viewing tower, oceanfront views, and was a 1 minute walk to the beach.<br /><br />We were delayed 1 day due to Hurricane Dorian, but it turned out well. Took me 4 whole days to get relaxed, but it was just... beyond words.<br /><br />We did a lot of nothing, sprinkled with some activities. Reading, sunning, hot-tubbin, pina colada sippin. Beach bumming. I did go to the aquarium and an old-time colony village with Sir. Went kayaking with my college girl friends. Checked out Jockey's Ridge State Park - the Sand Dunes were amazing.<br /><br />I could easily stay there another couple weeks (or forever!) if it weren't for adult responsibilities. I still feel pretty jello-like, even after a day back at work. Hopefully this feeling will stay a while.<br /><br />Or we'll have to plan another vacation!<div>
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A few photo highlights (we took over 1600 photos!)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sunrise. Just sucks all the awfulness right out of you, and leaves it in the sand.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Went kayaking in the marshes. Saw a snowy egret!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6SwWGhwYA5OePTjoDAEan2CMvTKf7hZBYlIR8v4h9FPvSCDmZ8RGH9mNGLyspz7gXfVSFHVvi_rF_EdiWsiCNMXALs_s7ZBZdXIUIPcDhdqlBdbQC6PO7lszFN4etNQit2CG2TEZ32hZu/s1600/Obx+Blerg+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6SwWGhwYA5OePTjoDAEan2CMvTKf7hZBYlIR8v4h9FPvSCDmZ8RGH9mNGLyspz7gXfVSFHVvi_rF_EdiWsiCNMXALs_s7ZBZdXIUIPcDhdqlBdbQC6PO7lszFN4etNQit2CG2TEZ32hZu/s400/Obx+Blerg+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This bathtub was amazing. And had jets! <br />I bought some bath bombs specifically for it. I want one at home!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTj-OTJ1QU2xvSOVjqJdwtI74bn1vXKuE-LQknajasYCODptgx3lucDzp0ABW0qpDxOCLoFdDVDZKDMmpn65eEgVtMNvlDiuX3LqfbR46nvqJuONuOLNpKEbZza19a8DFYlrTsRAY4lFOH/s1600/Obx+Blerg+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTj-OTJ1QU2xvSOVjqJdwtI74bn1vXKuE-LQknajasYCODptgx3lucDzp0ABW0qpDxOCLoFdDVDZKDMmpn65eEgVtMNvlDiuX3LqfbR46nvqJuONuOLNpKEbZza19a8DFYlrTsRAY4lFOH/s400/Obx+Blerg+4.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sir and I on the dock at the Roanoke Island Festival Park. 💚</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><br /></div>
</div>
Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-59517753605368965632019-09-02T08:32:00.000-04:002019-09-02T08:32:06.958-04:00Traumatizing the Neighborhood: It's worse, it's so much worse!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sir and I have not had much time to ourselves this month. Every day I have had off either Sir was not off or I have had an obligation. We are trying to make sure we make private time for each other<br />
<br />
We were finally able to carve a little time out for ourselves. Some unrushed alone time. We reveled in it.<br />
<br />
So, we're right in the middle of having sex, and we hear the neighbor's kids outside. We sort of share a backyard, though there is a fence between us. I turn around, and I can clearly see them through our window fan.<br />
<br />
If I can see them... well shit. They can see us. Sir has me carefully approach the window (we ARE both stark naked, after all). I am coming to the window from the side, so that I am unseen to quickly throw the blinds down.<br />
<br />
Over the fan.<br />
<br />
The FAN.<br />
<br />
Which blows the entire window covering WIDE open. I am completly freaking out, and exclaim:<br />
<br />
"It's worse, it's so much worse!"<br />
<br />
I duck down to cover myself with a sheet that was thrown on the floor. Sir is yelling at me to turn the freaking fan off!<br />
<br />
I get it turned off, and at least now we cannot be seen.<br />
<br />
But it would probably have been better for us to do *nothing*.<br />
<br />
That caused so much more attention to the situation.<br />
<br />
And once it was done... yeah, those kids were not outside anymore.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXn4OHexu8o5Er4t4Pu3UG2a_ISfqm9f8YnqhyphenhyphenYA13To8mPwv5DS2AubXHmY1Se-zaMK9y8y03q_lK4SXtkF6UxMY0lg_6zKGRcilB9lumTDWIgRT_Oh1eBNOWorrNifpOq5L-w72JzNP/s1600/OH+no%2521.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="260" data-original-width="390" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXn4OHexu8o5Er4t4Pu3UG2a_ISfqm9f8YnqhyphenhyphenYA13To8mPwv5DS2AubXHmY1Se-zaMK9y8y03q_lK4SXtkF6UxMY0lg_6zKGRcilB9lumTDWIgRT_Oh1eBNOWorrNifpOq5L-w72JzNP/s320/OH+no%2521.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Sorry, neighbors!</div>
Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-60021971276192836192019-08-27T20:27:00.000-04:002019-08-27T20:27:47.663-04:00Uniform: Continued<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There is more to the uniform story here.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="text-align: left;">After the comments my </span><a href="https://sub-missions.blogspot.com/2019/08/uniform.html" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">last post</a><span style="text-align: left;">, where Sir was </span><b style="text-align: left;">thinking </b><span style="text-align: left;">(key word here)</span><b style="text-align: left;"> </b><span style="text-align: left;">about having me wear a black leotard as a uniform, I feel the need to reply here and continue the story.</span></div>
<br />Some are under the impression that Sir and I have not already had an open discussion on the matter. Weighing the options. Of course we have. Sir and I have been together for over 8 years now. There is nothing we hide from each other, and though he does have the final say, I am not afraid to let him know how I feel. When I wrote my post, we had already had a discussion on the matter. I already told him my thoughts about it. I was waiting to find out what he decided.<br /><br />Another thought was that asking me to do this arbitrary thing for the sake of feeling dominant might breed resentment. I do not think so. I don't think it is arbitrary for one. I don't think of it as something I would hate, either. Just because you're not overjoyed for something doesn't mean you feel hatred for it. Control over my dress and appearance is not arbitrary for us. I have been growing my hair out for 8 years, as an example. For another, I have already had a dress code for the past 7 and a half years. This is more of an extension of that. At first, changing the way I dress was difficult and I have been pissy about it at times. Sometimes it still is difficult. But I have never resented Sir for it. And it certainly has helped my headspace, though less so now.<br /><br />If there was something that you knew made your partner happy, wouldn't you do it? A thing that does not cause you harm, but perhaps a little inconvenience into your day? A change in your routine? I know I want to make him happy. How is this different preparing a great dinner, putting on the perfume that they like, or keeping a clean house for them, as an example?<br /><br />One person commented on the eventual "rote-ness" of it. That is a great thing to consider. I still wear skirts or dresses everyday when I am not at work. At first, it make me feel incredibly submissive, and reminded me of Sir, especially as we were not living together. When we first moved in together it also helped my headspace as I liked looking good for him each day. Today, it has become more or less part of me, and I don't think it affects me from a submissive point of view as much. But if it makes Sir happy, I am still happy to do it. It has become a little bit of my identity, I think though, in general.<br /><br />A few months ago Sir asked me to stop growing my hair out. It was completely jarring. He said it had finally reached a good length. I don't know how to be the person who is not growing their hair. After all those years, it was part of me, and I still am not sure how to deal with that at present. One day at a time. Eventually this would become part of my identity, too, even if it wasn't something that I initiated or was in love with doing. It becomes part of you.<br /><br />So, if Sir wants a new addition to the dress code, he will have it. I have brought up my concerns to him. He listened and thought about it, and came up with a different idea on his own. He's my Dominant, not an unthinking douche who doesn't consider my needs or what I have to say. I am not afraid of him, or of telling him how I feel and think. He likes that about me. Though he does make mistakes, we all do and he tries very hard to make me happy. What makes me happy is being submissive. So what Sir decides goes.<br /><br />Instead of a leotard, Sir is now thinking about having me wear an A-shirt. (One of those long men's undershirt tanks). He is not sure if it will be white, or black. I will not be wearing undergarments with it unless I am on my cycle.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNyTFBWHuvs5R6D7iMNL5hZchHt_bJz3kL51O6EyKPD2BvQ8Y4Vz0K89C94YqYOE9n1v285ofbZU3ihbVJuKladuisxR5qJWj3Bdi9YodpdfVNaHsfEUbQ8isy-uvol-4GOOrZ6c221TKW/s1600/Ashirts.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="572" data-original-width="904" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNyTFBWHuvs5R6D7iMNL5hZchHt_bJz3kL51O6EyKPD2BvQ8Y4Vz0K89C94YqYOE9n1v285ofbZU3ihbVJuKladuisxR5qJWj3Bdi9YodpdfVNaHsfEUbQ8isy-uvol-4GOOrZ6c221TKW/s320/Ashirts.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<br />
<br />We talked about this idea too. It does solve some of the concerns I had about practicality, so while I am not initially wild over it, I think it will work. And while I don't find them particularly sexy at the moment, they have their appeal and I do know that if this is what he decides, the first time I put that shirt on I will definitely be in the right headspace, thinking about him.<br />
<br />
Thanks for your input, I truly do appreciate it.<br /></div>
Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-58095055703038490842019-08-16T15:52:00.000-04:002019-08-16T15:52:04.054-04:00Uniform<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sir says that he is <b>thinking</b> about modifying my current dress code a little.<br />
<br />
As of right now, when I am not at work, or working out, I am to wear a dress or skirt. I do own some leggings to wear under the skirts in the wintertime and to exercise.<br /><br />I have gotten a little lax in that there have been times I wore leggings with no skirt, when I was not exercising. But it has not been very often. I have also pretty much stopped exercising, and as it is not winter, I suppose I've been adhering to dress code more.<br /><br /><br />Sir is thinking of adding a requirement to my dress code, for indoors only.<br /><br />Basically, a black leotard.<br /><br />So that when I am in the house, it would be my uniform.<br /><br />We looked at a few.<br /><br />The one he liked best thus far was this:<br /><br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEFeO7Nbrf3OJIYWYL6TAugqH0pdksZPwkj-PTibBxn9NDv3KD6bavR3c-xyEwuriK9ntmWeBKM9cf3nQ32wjODgJp5Umr7CMqjcypP6XbuFcrxc2ByweW_ayPPXjNv5LAK3dQdLJFWD1Y/s1600/Sir+Leotard.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="603" data-original-width="757" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEFeO7Nbrf3OJIYWYL6TAugqH0pdksZPwkj-PTibBxn9NDv3KD6bavR3c-xyEwuriK9ntmWeBKM9cf3nQ32wjODgJp5Umr7CMqjcypP6XbuFcrxc2ByweW_ayPPXjNv5LAK3dQdLJFWD1Y/s320/Sir+Leotard.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We would of course need multiple items, enough to get me through a week or so between laundry.<br />And I don't know if it would change in the winter. Would I be expected to sleep in it? How would having my monthly cycle impact this?<br /><br />I'm not yet sure how I feel about this. On the one hand, it is another level of control. On the other... part of me wonders what the ultimate goal is. I wonder how compliant I would be. Especially when I am cold. If I will be bratty.<br /><br />When we talked about it, he said it was a way to direct what I wear, and it would be easier.<br /><br />Easier for whom, I asked? Certainly not for me. If you have worn one of these, they're not the easiest to get into or out of. They're not the most functional if you have to use the restroom. If you are menstruating, they're a downright pain in the ass. And what about underwear? Do I not wear them now?<br /><br />But while those are valid things to consider, they're not really the point. Whether it is easier for me or not is irrelevant. If Sir decides it, this is what will be.</div>
<br /></div>
Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-48215290428462603382019-08-11T23:10:00.000-04:002019-08-11T23:11:10.366-04:00Invisible Tether<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It seemed like it had been a good long while since Sir and I got to engage in any real sex or kink or scene. We'd been on conflicting schedules, and the last few times we did get a chance, something awkward or awful happened.<br />
<br />
I was starting to be concerned that we were going to go through a really dry spell vanilla, kink, or otherwise.<br />
<br />
Luckily I was wrong.<br />
<br />
We had some time to ourselves Sunday afternoon.<br />
<br />
Sir gave me a good reminder on his control over me. Without using anything but himself. No toys. No constraints. Just him and me.<br />
<br />
Just his hands on my body. Caressing...coaxing. Cracking. A pinch here, a tap there.<br />
<br />
Getting me completely in his thrall. Keeping me there with only his hands and his voice.<br />
<br />
It felt like his words were around me, binding me in place.<br />
<br />
Reminding me that I am his.<br />
<br />
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💗<br />
<br /></div>
</h3>
</div>
Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193995482072739335.post-12178342628221964662019-08-04T20:46:00.000-04:002019-08-04T20:46:04.245-04:00Abort: A Scene Fail<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
One night after work, Sir let me know that something was going to go down after dinner. </div>
<br />
I love that; the anticipation. Thinking about it during our meal.<br />
<br />
After dinner and a shower, Sir wasted no time, grabbing me by the hair and gently but firmly pulling me to the living room, where he had set up one of our dining chairs. He had me sit. I was naked and still slightly damp from the shower.<br />
<br />
He tied my thighs to the chair, near my knees, pulling them apart; keeping them open and therefore me exposed.<br />
<br />
He tied my ankles.<br />
<br />
He tied my hands as well, down at each side to the chair legs.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2y9jluaVxPV_Rs9P650nxZ1BweF2lJp4tFNdlLtvq_4l4rnVJSqFZI5zcPeiBDaxPb2WnPey_sOZUCxOeXse-6BTmPXpsqiJBxhPhW2EJHk6MYiYALv6eaS579ccsX5BjhymklfpDUQ9O/s1600/Chairbound.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1190" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2y9jluaVxPV_Rs9P650nxZ1BweF2lJp4tFNdlLtvq_4l4rnVJSqFZI5zcPeiBDaxPb2WnPey_sOZUCxOeXse-6BTmPXpsqiJBxhPhW2EJHk6MYiYALv6eaS579ccsX5BjhymklfpDUQ9O/s320/Chairbound.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Chairbound.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He then tied my hair to the back of the chair. Upon completion, he circled like a waiting vulture. A smack here, a pinch there.<br />
<br />
He got out our purple paddle, running it over my body, up to my neck, settling under my chin, lifting it up to force me to meet his eyes.<br />
<br />
I could feel the paddle sliding just a little. More and more forward, away from my neck.<br />
<br />
Finally, it happened.<br />
<br />
It came free and struck me right in the mouth.<br />
<br />
My stupidly open mouth.<br />
<br />
And right on to the tooth I just had dental work on. (It was so bad, Sir had actually brought me to the ER before we could see a dentist).<br />
<br />
The pain was excruciating. I felt like it exploded through my face, though it was just a little tap.<br />
<br />
I now fully understand the phrase "burst into tears". They too, exploded out of me, while I tried to contain myself. I couldn't, though, and it just seemed like I was hyperventilating.<br />
<br />
Sir did not mean to do it.<br />
<br />
Sir feels extremely awful about it.<br />
<br />
I think he was at a loss for what to do first. So he settled on holding my head until I calmed down a little. He then untied my hands, which flew immediately to my face. He knew that a normal reaction would be to try and "protect" the area, but my hands were bound. It made me feel more vulnerable not being able to do so and probably increased my reaction. I think I was also crying because it had been so long since we were able to get together like this, and I felt like it was all ruined. We were going to miss out. I was disappointed.<br />
<br />
After, he took me over to the couch and let me snuggle in all the blankets.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, after another dental visit, the tooth is okay (but requires additional unrelated work).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh8eDknHq5ovSfzaua9ojqisRin2qUwwqBREQqfQudsGWyDhZbfJGvUbZEba4FmN5MpageUAOtND8LTs2dl0vrv0hRpyY6negjxQ_QHGG-WIETNexnzTcYWzRhWAmIJx7GEsohWqJKlhyphenhyphen7/s1600/Aftermath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh8eDknHq5ovSfzaua9ojqisRin2qUwwqBREQqfQudsGWyDhZbfJGvUbZEba4FmN5MpageUAOtND8LTs2dl0vrv0hRpyY6negjxQ_QHGG-WIETNexnzTcYWzRhWAmIJx7GEsohWqJKlhyphenhyphen7/s320/Aftermath.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Aftermath.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Hopefully we'll get to revisit this again.</div>
Leahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17213567388808206135noreply@blogger.com4