Answer To DelFonte's Question

DelFonte at A Place of Fancies (can I just say how much I love that blog name) asked:

How has your dynamic survived over this difficult period, has it strengthened you two or been pushed to one side?

I can’t remember the last time I sat at his feet or got to give him a blow job. Sex is not too frequent and super bland vanilla. 

But we’re still very much D/s or M/s or DD/lg or whatever you want to call it.

He’s still making the decisions. From the doctor’s appointments to limits on what I can do to what time I go to bed at night, he still makes all the decisions.  

Not that it’s been easy.  I need the service aspect of TTWD because it makes me happy to please him and feeds my submissive side. I need the spanking because it clears my head of all my crazy overthinking and emotions. So without these things, letting go has been harder for me and I have been extremely emotional (I often tell Daddy it’s like a tornado of thoughts and worries building in my head and right now I’m at about an EF-4).  

This doesn’t make it easy on Daddy, who is stressed out as it is. And we’ve had some really tough moments. But he’s held onto the control (if only sometimes by a thread) and he’s managed to stay in charge. Because of all my restrictions, he’s had to get creative – taking away my phone (which has been my lifeline lately) has been a really popular threat these days.

Daddy tells me often to trust him. To trust that with the power I gave him, he’s going to protect me and take care of me and it’s all going to be okay. And he was right.

 I’ve been through this surgery before – many years ago before TTWD. The doctor asked me at my appointment this week if this surgery was better than the last time and I have to say that “Yes, I think it was.” I remember it as a more painful, lonely, and a much longer time to recover. This time was different.  I think that’s because every step of the way, Daddy had my hand and never let go.

Getting through this period has taught us lots of things. It’s taught me about patient and trust (I can’t say it was always a smooth lesson—but still a lesson). It’s taught Daddy to hang on tight to that control even when I’m fighting him on it. 

And yes it’s made us stronger by realizing we can get through it without giving up our roles. There was a rough time last fall when I asked him for a break because his new job was affecting his time for our dynamic. He said no and I ended up being really thankful that he did. I think I’m learning for us that the times that life gets in the way are the times we need this dynamic the most.

Thanks so much for the question DelFonte!

Our Biggest Hurdle - Answer to Question from Tomsrose

What was your biggest hurdle when you decided to change up the dynamic in your marriage?

I think it's a common one. Learning to let go of ‘what I thought it should be’ and submit to what Daddy wanted.

I started all of it in the bedroom, but to me it was all fun and games. I think I had sub-frenzy times a million because not only was I discovering my submissive side, I was discovering I actually enjoyed and wanted sex for the first time in my life. And I was beyond thrilled that I could finally give Daddy everything he’d ever wanted in our marriage.

When Daddy proposed it, I thought it would be easy. Daddy usually made a lot of the decisions outside of the bedroom throughout our marriage anyways so the only real change would be all that crazy sex we would be having. Ha Ha. How wrong I was.

I think it all overwhelmed Daddy at first. He was a new dom trying to find his confidence and deal with this over-eager wife of his and wanted to take things slow. And I got impatient and frustrated and attempted to control him into controlling me.

Things went downhill very fast. Daddy lost confidence and pulled away. I felt rejected and pulled away. I was so humiliated and embarrassed and just wanted to go back to how we were before all of this.

Daddy decided we needed to take a step back. He wanted some time to research, learn, understand, and find the confidence to do this right. The step back was good for me too it gave me time to calm down from all those ‘frenzied’ feelings’.

During our break, Daddy found a series of books he really liked. He said it helped him understand the ‘submissive mindset’ more. I’m not sure what they said exactly because I’ve never been allowed to read them, but they definitely must’ve helped because when Daddy finally decided we were ready things went very differently.

This time he made it very clear that he was in control and we were moving at his pace. He implemented rules and rituals (some I didn’t like too much). He also started giving me assignments. These initial assignments led to us sharing daily e-mails at least twice the size of this blog post. I used to think we had pretty good communication, but it was crazy—like a floodgate had opened or something.

When Daddy first proposed TTWD, I thought it meant he wanted sex all the time. That he wanted me to make breakfast and serve his coffee and let him make the decisions. It seemed so easy. But what he really wanted was me – all of me. He wanted in so he could pull out those parts of me I held back, so he could break down those walls I’ve built, so he could heal the broken parts.

Getting to that point wasn’t easy. The way we crashed and burned the first time trying to add the dynamic scared me. I had a lot of doubts and concerns as to whether Daddy really wanted this. But when we finally got there and I finally let go, it was worth it.

When Daddy and I first started dating, I liked him a lot. And eventually I loved him. He was there for me during a hard time, he spoke my love language, he made me laugh, and he got me in a way nobody ever did.  He’s been my best friend, a great father, and we’ve survived some pretty tough times.

But I’ve never felt the ‘butterflies’. Not with him, not with anybody. I thought they were some myth reserved for teenagers and romance novels. But when I finally learned to let go, I fell in love – like really, truly deeply in love -- for the first time in my life. I felt the butterflies.

Not to say we haven’t had hurdles since. Sometimes Daddy loses his confidence and sometimes I struggle to ‘let go’. When it happens at the same time, it’s like a perfect storm for us and usually results in some pretty big fights. We’ve stumbled and gotten a little lost at times. But ever since overcoming that first hurdle, I’ve had no doubt this is what we both need and that it’s worth fighting for.  

Thank you Tomsrose for the great question.

Feeling A 'Little' Lost

When we started TTWD in 2012, it was as Master/slave dynamic. Daddy was called 'Sir' for the most part and my mind/headspace was constantly on pleasing him.

There was an exquisite joy in making his breakfast, doing his laundry, sucking his cock. I loved loved loved sitting at his feet. Our rituals held more significance -- I feel like I was striving harder and more focused on him. This slave part of me existed just for him.

Then this summer came and we delved into some really deep stuff. Dark and dirty secrets I'd withheld for so long came out. And the more they came out and the more Daddy accepted and loved me, the more my trust in him grew until he drew out this vulnerable 'little girl' side of me. Suddenly things were shifting -- I needed him to tuck me in at night. My happy place moved from the floor to curled up on his chest.

Daddy told me in September he thought I had a 'little' side. I freaked out. I realized DD/lg relationships aren't very well understood and are judged even in the kink community. It scares me to think of myself like this - I mean I'm in my late thirties.

Daddy has been encouraging me to explore this side though. He thinks it's always been there since way back in the beginning of our dating years. He says there's always been this innocent playful side to me that he's had this overwhelming need to protect since the day he met me (which is why he's held on through all the crap I put him through).

So we've been exploring it, and it's been both freeing and healing. I know it's a hard dynamic to understand and even harder to explain. For us, it's not an age-play, run around in pig-tails and short skirts and diapers thing. It's not a pedophile thing either -- I am still very much an adult. It's mostly about this safe place he's given me that allows me to be myself -- vulnerabilities and all.

The problem lately though is I feel like the 'little side' is taking over. She requires a lot more 'care' I think than the 'slave' side of me, and I don't like feeling like I'm high maintenance all the time. And although this part of me loves to make Daddy happy, it doesn't enjoy the 'service' side of things as much as that 'slave side'.

Daddy is very much a Daddy Dom. Even before I called him 'Daddy' he nurtured more than demanded. He says he identifies more as a Daddy Dom. So I know this is what he wants. And I'm very happy in the safety and comfort being his 'little girl' brings.

Daddy also still says I'm his 'slave'. I still do a lot of things for him on a daily basis. But to be honest lately I'd rather be cuddling than pleasing him. I'd rather be in his arms than on the floor. My pain tolerance has dropped. Even on this blog it shows -- I know my posts sound like an ten-year-old girl, but I know that's because that 'little' part just leaks out when I write about us.

I'm afraid I lost that 'slave headspace'. And I really, really miss her.

We've been talking about this lately-- he wants me to think about what and why I'm feeling like this. And any possible ideas that I think would help me.

I don't know...I keep running through new rituals or different names that might help. Then I stop and wonder if I'm really missing those 'slave' feelings or just insecure about the 'little girl' part of me. Then I realize that yeah, I do miss it very much. But if Daddy's right and this part has always been there then it was there when I was in that 'slave mindset' last year. So I bang my head against the wall and wonder why can't I get those feelings back? Ouch, that hurts.

I'm always his submissive, that hasn't changed. He leads, I follow. But why can't I seem to do it as both his 'little girl' and his 'slave'?

Sex, Shame, and My Inner Slut

Okay this post was hard to write - so please forgive me if I'm long and rambly.

This need of mine -- to submit-- has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. The fantasies about being tied up, being controlled, being enslaved started back in my childhood. I was drawn to my mom's romances about the pirates who would kidnap the girl and half her bosom would be hanging out on the front cover. The pictures of the chains wrapped around the ankles and wrists of the slaves in the story of Moses in my Bible called to me in very kinky ways (oh, please don't send me to hell for that one). And oh yeah there was that scene in Return of the Jedi with Princess Leia.  Heck, I even accidentally figured out how to give myself an orgasm around the time I learned to ride a bike. I say accidentally because I had no idea what it was at the time -- just that it was fun.

But at the same time as this was happening, I was growing up super-involved in a Christian church. We were there practically everyday of the week. I attended their school during the day. So pretty much every day faith, religion, and the idea that sex was some an extremely sacred act was being shoved down my throat. We were taught sex was something that happened in the confines of marriage and that things such as masturbation and fantasies were wrong and a way of 'cheating on your future spouse'. Those dirty little fantasies of mine --  I became deeply ashamed of them. I learned to bury them so deep so that nobody would ever know. I hid behind the façade that I was a good, sweet, innocent Aurora.

But in the back of my head I always felt God knew about them. And I think this made me even more ashamed of them.

About the time I hit junior high, my family moved to another state. My parents quit going to church and enrolled me in a public school. Going from the private school I grew up in to the public school at the time was like jumping in a lake when it's fifty degrees below zero.

Huge shock.

One of my very first friendships began with a girl I'm going to call Brittney (she would love that if she knew). Brittney was loud (what some would define as obnoxious), gutsy, and not afraid to speak her mind. About anything. She also had quite the kinky side and wasn't afraid to show it -- the majority of everything I learned about sex and kinky sex, I owe to her.

I was drawn to Brittney because she was everything I was not. Extroverted. Confident. Brave. But the closer we grew as friends, the more she let me in on her own insecurities. Brittney ran on the fringes of all those normal junior/high school cliques, never really quite fitting in anywhere. She was excluded because of her boldness. Constantly called names by the girls...expected to 'put out' by the boys.

If my religious background wasn't enough to shame me into hiding behind my 'good Aurora' image, being an observer to the constant slut-shaming Brittney experienced throughout her teen years pretty much sealed the deal. I became so good at hiding 'kinky me' that even Brittney (who I'm still friends with today) would never believe me if I told her about some of the stuff Daddy and I do now.

I ended up losing my virginity to my first boyfriend because I was tired of being that 'good Aurora'. I figured maybe it would help shed some of that image. Unfortunately though, the whole experience brought back a lot of that 'religious guilt' to the point that I got it in my head I could never be with anybody else now so I'd have to marry that particular boyfriend. (yes, I seriously thought this way). This was a disaster that ended one night with a bottle of peppermint schnapps and another guy who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. It's odd...looking back I can clearly see it as rape. But it was also an ending to this boyfriend being my 'one and only'.

This is what Daddy got when he got me. I was messed up -- so much shame and guilt over what I had done. I was in therapy for an eating disorder and to deal with lingering issues over a babysitter who had molested me when I was five. I had hacked off my hair, weighed less than 90 lbs, and was smoking terrible things. And I was still so ashamed of sex that I hated it.

Yeah, I was a real catch -- I really still have no clue what Daddy saw in me. Maybe he thought I'd be good in bed...ha!

I was both a terrible girlfriend and wife when it came to sex. Daddy likes to say that I gave up control to him in everything but the bedroom, and that makes sense. I didn't think about sex much. I didn't want it. I only did it for him, and I wasn't very good at hiding that fact. I preferred it lights out, missionary, quick, and without any cuddling. And please oh please don't try to give me an orgasm. Poor Daddy -- it kills me to think how much I hurt him throughout the years. I struggle with so much guilt over this.

Daddy will be the first to remind me that he's far from perfect. That he's made lots of mistakes and there were many times he hurt me deeply. And that it's not quite the sexual desert I remember it as. There were some good times where I actually was into it. Times where that dirty side slipped out, and he began to suspect that there was a kinky side to me. He remembers that the first time he ever brought me to an orgasm was when he handcuffed me to the bed. I asked him why he just didn't make me his slave right there and then (and saved him all that crazy heartache) and he'll tell me that I wasn't ready yet.

I've always been a slow learner. I guess I'm just lucky that Daddy's super patient. He could've...maybe should've...given up on me so long ago. But he didn't. He waited for me...he waited for that inner slut of mine to break loose.

And when she finally did, it was crazy. I think we had sex for the first month straight. Or at least it felt that way. It was freeing to finally be free from all the shame.

Once Daddy stopped spinning though, he took the control and slowed things down a little bit. I began to learn that being Daddy's slut isn't just about the sex. Oh that part's great -- very great. So great that I weep for all those lost years. But being Daddy's slut means that I've finally been able to open up, to let him in, to love him with everything inside of me. To stop hiding and let him see everything.

I've come a long way, but I still struggle with this shame sometimes. It slips out. I get insecure. I find myself getting embarrassed. I struggle with writing sex or about sex. I have trouble being naked. I still feel the shame whenever I share a new fantasy with him.

When the insecurities come, so does that 'good Aurora' shell that I perfected all those years ago.But Daddy doesn't let it stay. He fought too hard to break that shell, he's not about to let it come back.

It's a day to day thing sometimes -- but I trust him.

No more 'good Aurora'.

Harder Than It Ought To Be

This past month has been a busy one for us. Daddy got a new job. I had some unexpected things happen at mine. We had to go out of town to my grandma's funeral. Daddy and our oldest went away hunting for a weekend. There has been a lot going on and Daddy has been very tired.

I know Daddy puts a lot of work into us. It's tiring enough to run your own life, and to add somebody else's on top of that. Plus he's learning a new, very different, much busier job. Lots going on with him, and I know this is a time where he needs me to be patient. But when I get stressed and overwhelmed, that's when I need Daddy's dominance the most. 

 

Last Wednesday was one of those days. It was a stressful day, and I got some bad news that I wasn't dealing with so well. Plus it was that time of month where my emotions run away from me so I was not in a good place. 

Daddy's number one rule is honesty. He's not a fan of brattiness. I'm supposed to tell him how I'm feeling at all times. Sometimes I'm good at this. Other times...not so much. And last Wednesday was not one of those 'good times'. Daddy had a stressful day too and had some last minute stuff dumped on him that he needed to worry about getting done the next morning.

 

So I was feeling guilty for needing him so much. I could tell he was tired and distracted, and instead of telling him how I was feeling, I thought maybe I'd just sleep things off and feel better about everything the next morning.

 

Usually we have some kind of playtime and spanking every night. But because he was tired and I told him I was too, we skipped it that night and went to bed early. Daddy had to be in the office super early the next morning and although I usually get up and make him breakfast, this morning he let me sleep in.

I don't like waking up alone. And even worse, I woke up still stressed and anxious. Everything seemed a thousand times worse and I couldn't shut off my thoughts. It's hard for me to keep my feelings from Daddy long, and he tends to pick up on it anyways. So they did all eventually come out over Thursday and Friday -- in very messy, emotional, and somewhat explosive ways.

 

I read a blog post by lil at Submissive Sanctuary about feeling like work. Gosh I love it when I read a post that puts into words exactly what I've been feeling (and can't). I hate the idea that I could be more work for Daddy. That after his hard day, he has to fix mine too.

 

I told him this and he reminded me that things are a lot less work when we do them 'his way'. If I had just been honest in the first place, we'd have had a lot easier Thursday and Friday.

 

Oy. I do sometimes have a bad habit of making things harder than they ought to be.

Breaking

When we're in sync, things are amazing. It's like Daddy is inside my head. I don't know where I end or he begins.

But when we're not in sync, it's hard. Really, really hard.

Daddy's new job has kept him very busy. He has lots of new things to learn on top of the new schedule. He's stressed and doesn't have the time or energy he had a month ago. There's a lot of transition in my current job right now. A lot of planning for what my future will be after this job is done. I've been feeling the stress. My body's been feeling the stress -- it seems like it's been health issue after health issue over the past week.

All these changes are overwhelming.  I know I just need to be patient. And I do well, for the most part, throughout the day. But at night all the feelings collapse in on me. I miss Daddy. I miss his dominance. I miss him inside me -- both physically and mentally. I miss the spankings. I miss the closeness.

We had a good talk the other night. About bringing in new rituals and adapting some of the old ones. Daddy reminds me the rules are still in place, and he's been doing what he can. But sometimes it's not enough.

Last night we both seemed to explode. We said a lot of things, but had trouble really listening. Daddy got frustrated. I cried a lot.

This past summer Daddy drew this deep vulnerable part of me out. I felt so safe. Like I was tucked in a little box with walls formed from his dominance and control. I was protected and free. I didn't have to pretend or hide -- not with him. But now I don't feel that box. I feel desperate, out-of-control. Like I'm bouncing around looking for even the hint of a wall.

I asked Daddy last night if we could just take a step back until we're through this. I feel insecure and destructive and have an overwhelming need for self-preservation.

Daddy asked me to stick it out until Sunday, and if I'm still feeling this way we can't take a step back.

So I agreed to wait. To submit. To obey. To stay open to him about how I'm feeling and trust him despite how badly everything in me wants to run away.

So here I am struggling to be patient and hang on. Doing everything I can to not break us. Or me.

Land Mines

For us, moving deeper into a TTWD relationship has meant digging through the past. Uncovering the hurt we've buried throughout the years so we can heal from them has brought us closer together in ways I never dreamed were possible.

And we have a lot of these 'buried hurts'. Maybe it's because we've been together for a while or we because we had so much drama in the beginning or because I have a bad habit of preferring to run from my feelings rather than face them. Or maybe others have a lot too...I don't know.

Usually they're like empty graves. When we uncover one, there's sometimes a momentary 'heart tug' (as Philip likes to call it). Then we talk (and talk and talk). We ask any questions, discuss any lingering feelings and relish that yet another thing between us is gone.

Usually this is done in a few hours or less. Without tears or screaming or drama.

Usually.

Sometimes we seem to uncover a land mine. Everything, including TTWD, explodes around us and we're fighting like we used to fight. He gets angry and pulls away. I get emotional and pull away. We say things we really don't mean. (Well..at least I hope we don't mean them).

On Friday, we hit one of these so-called land mines. We had been looking forward to the weekend, partly because this month has been crazy busy with the kids getting back to school and some job issues we've been having. Also because Saturday was a special day for us.

Philip had planned a surprise, but when I discovered what it was I reacted badly. Well...more like flipped out. It was something new for us. Something new, but.hardly extreme. It's probably something a lot of vanilla couples do or have done, and I've done way more kinkier stuff in the past year and a half.

In fact it was something I'd done before, with somebody else.

So the last thing Philip expected was me flipping out. I did have my reasons -- reasons I hadn't yet shared with him (it was a grave we hadn't dug up yet), but since he didn't know that he took my reaction as a rejection. So feeling hurt, he pulled away. And feeling hurt that he pulled away, I pulled away. And boom. Everything exploded.

Once things settled down, we did start to communicate. Our day was busy, so most of it was done through e-mail, but later that evening I curled up in his arms and we talked and talked and cried (well I cried). But despite all the talking and his reassurances that this wasn't my fault, and that we were going to keep talking and work through this, I couldn't help but feel like I had failed...miserably.

Why did I react that way? Why didn't I just submit? Why did I have to go and ruin our special weekend by my little freak out?

We did end up having an amazing weekend. Even without Philip's surprise, it was sweet, sentimental, fun, kinky, and perfect. But I still can't help feel a little shaky. Like I'm waiting to see if this is something that's brought us closer together or set us back. Or if it's just another reminder that things worth having don't come easy.

Gosh I hate those land mines.