Hidden Meanings

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To those readers that have children, i am sure you feel me when i say that being intimate with your partner and also being a parent do not mix. Whether your kid is climbing in bed with your every night, or your walls are paper thin, it seems there is always a reason to miss out on some, ahem, personal time. That being said, we have gotten tricky- finding clever ways to share inside jokes, innuendos, and stolen moments, with the kids none the wiser. (Side note: if you have not read the children’s book “Nobody Likes a Cock Block”, please do yourself the favor of checking it out)

i remember when we first bought our house, our eldest daughter woke up one morning, and asked us to stop watching the movie with all the screaming. Our bedrooms were newly side by side, and we were just a little too noisy. Thus began our dictionary of code words and actions, and their hidden meanings. The list is below.

Bank= Sex
Mobile Deposit= Oral Sex
Deposit Slip= Condom
Thanksgiving= Daddy’s penis
Button= my clitoris
Deposit= Orgasm
Withdrawal= Anal
Holding pinkies= i feel little
Daddy’s hand on the back of my neck= Reminder of Ownership
Daddy’s hand in the hair at the nape of my neck= Hair pulling, i am out of line

Life is so much easier when you are driving down the road with the family in the car, and you can casually ask your partner, “Hey honey, do we need to pick up any deposit slips before we go to the bank?”, or “Don’t let me forget to make that mobile deposit tonight”. It works for us, okay? And those subtle statements get us both squirming like two accountants sharing spreadsheets.

Do you have code words for sex, or body language with hidden meanings? i wanna know what they are! Drop us a comment to share!

Love, life, & the pursuit of Lars

lately life has been too busy

stress has overtaken so many aspects of our relationship

and some days i have to make a conscious effort

to choose joy, and not overlook it.

and even though my bottom isn’t sore

even though we are existing in a cycle of

wake, kids, house, work, sleep, repeat

the shimmering promise is there

“Soon”

and i watch You sit at Your desk

hand on Your head on yet another call

and i watch You cradle our baby

grinning down at her while she coos adoringly at You

and i watch You with our eldest

gut busting laughing

and i just want You to know

the gratitude that i have

because You are a blessing and a gift

You are a marvel and a wonder and a prize

You are my King

and even when we have to settle down and put aside the kink

i love You endlessly.

There is no hierarchy

Recently Daddy and i watched a series on Netflix about a magician. Yes, sounds cheesey. It kind of was. But there was this bit about mothers and how they make their children feel guilty. There was a Jewish mother, and an Italian mother, among others. They tried to make it so cutesy, exemplifying the faces they make to make their children feel guilty, sharing trigger phrases they use to bring their kids to heel. At first i giggled, because i can see the humor in it. But after several days of reflection, it doesn’t feel funny anymore.

i was adopted as a baby into a family of Italians. i know all too well the phrases, cajoling, and mean looks that get passed around. And you know what? It isn’t cute. It doesn’t endear me to my family. If i am totally honest, it is sickening, and makes me quite anxious. In hindsight, the constant justifying i had to do with my family is a huge part of why i don’t associate with my family anymore. In part it is a relief, but it is also a major, devastating loss.

“He’s not good enough for you, if you elope the family will be scandalized, you were baptized as a baby into the catholic church why are you getting baptized again, hide money in your daughters bank account and dont tell your husband about any inheritance you get in case he cheats on you and you get divorced…”

Mothers especially love to have opinions. And Italian mothers for whatever reason believe that they don’t have to be responsible for anything they say. i am sure that isn’t an Italian only trait- but i only have one example to go off. My mother literally believes that her immediate and extended family exists to rally around her, worship and honor her in all ways, and make her look good. She believes the matriarch is at the top of the family food chain, and that she can pick off who she wants when she wants and destroy them without repercussions.

Here’s the thing- these behaviors aren’t cute. It isn’t acceptable. i refuse to exist in a world where people are disposable, unimportant things that live to serve one matriarch or being. i don’t view politics, family, or anything as a food chain. It simply does not compute.

As a mother myself, i am so careful, probably at times too careful, because i don’t want to give my children the impression that i am not accountable for my words or actions. In fact, it is my preference that above all- good grades, popularity, and general excellence- my children know empathy and kindness. And as a wife, it is imperative that i ensure my husband is always assured of my regard, affection, and appreciation.

None of us are perfect. There isn’t a magical remedy to the curse of humanity. Fact is, we are only human, and none of us are exempt from treating others with dignity, respect, and gentleness. Choose to live outside the stereotypes that surround you. Choose kindness.

Squirties

This post was originally written for The SafeworD/s Club. For more information, click the link!

Have you ever squirted? Do you aspire to be able to? Here my thoughts about my personal journey with squirting.

Before i met Lars, i had never had an orgasm. i had empty, unsatisfying sex that got me nothing and nowhere. Lars and i met online- we were both on a mission to avoid having a physical relationship at the time. Partially because we were long distance, and partially because we both had moral reasons. We had our fair share of phone sex and risque Skype sessions, though. It was complicated. At one point Lars decided that He wanted to buy me a toy, so He sent me a Lelo Gigi vibe and set the expectation that i use it instead of the cheap toy i used before. The laptop came out, i spread my legs, and after a short while my computer suddenly became drenched.

Lars thought it was epic, but i was all sorts of embarrassed. The next time, i sprayed across the bed and into the wall.

Something about that toy pushed some button inside of me, and made me squirt like there was no tomorrow. Those orgasms were messy, hard to predict, and hard to control. i remember confiding to one friend who laughed at me. i told her that i was really embarrassed and she told me that i was peeing myself and that i needed to do pelvic exercises.

i did a lot of research in those days, and even asked my gynecologist about it, because i was concerned that i was becoming incontinent. My doctor let me know that it wasn’t urine and that it was quite normal. But it didn’t feel normal. i was quite disgusted with myself, to be honest.

When Lars and i became intimate, it wasn’t the same as the toy, so i didn’t uncontrollably squirt. i was very thankful for this, but my dear Lars was hellbent on getting me to cover Him, and thus began a subtle training spree that happened before i could stop it. He got His wish and was covered, achieving His goal the first time with me on top. i was mortified and disgusted. To me, there is nothing worse than sleeping on wet sheets. But Lars was over the moon.

It’s really hard to describe the feeling that precedes a squirting orgasm. It’s like the room spins, and i can’t breathe slowly, i feel like i have to grab ahold of something or i could go flying into oblivion. And then i shatter into a million billion pieces.

Over time i have learned to embrace these orgasms, and even to crave and look forward to them. i think those feelings are because Lars likes them so much, and is very encouraging. It could also be that if i get caught holding back i get paddled. Either way, i am glad Lars took the time to nurture my sexuality, and taught me to squirt.

she thought wrong

and she said she was big. Look at this little girl, Daddy’s little toy.

To find out who else is sinning this weekend, click the lips!

Sinful Sunday

SOSS

We have gotten several shout outs on SOSS posts, and wanted to pay it forward!

The first blog we want to give a shout out to is Princesse Crowned. If you like poetic, articulately written posts, you will love her. She links music to the end of each post which i really enjoy, and she just has a way with words that never ceases to impress me. She’s thoughtful and honest, too.

Another page i really love is Twink. This page has nothing to do with BDSM, but is about her recovery from trauma stemming from narcissistic abuse and neglect from her mother. This blog makes me feel like i am not alone in some of my life experiences. i have shared briefly about my relationship with my family, but Twink really gets into the nitty gritty, and i have a lot of admiration for the work she does.

The last page i will share this time is Krystal Minx. This gorgeous woman is forever posting her adventures doing handy woman projects, and actually inspired me to be a bit braver with projects like that. Believe it or not i patched several dents in the drywall and painted it! i would not have felt confident doing that if not for her. She is sexy and feminine but doesnt shy away from tough stuff!

Okay thats all i have today! Keep posting you lovelies!

Drops of soap

It’s funny how You go away

and i become achy and

weak.

Self care becoming more important

to keep myself moving, up out of bed.

It’s interesting, really

tired and dropping

clumsily knocking the bottles off the shelf

in the shower

and i’ve spilled Your soap

and all the neediness

and the memories

and the closeness

rushes back

and i am frozen under the jet of water

simply breathing it in.

Breathing You in.

Missing You.

Cupcake?

It wouldn’t be a party without cake.

Sinful Sunday

a little less conversation, a little more alpha please

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This week i have been a big grumpy pants. i have had so much to accomplish; cleaning, baking cakes, getting ready for my mother in law to visit, plus hosting a party for my baby’s first birthday. And to top it all off, Lars is traveling all of next week. My alpha has stomped into the picture, bringing her bags of tension and stress with her.

i keep trying to tell myself, “my alpha isn’t welcome here”, as that is what Lars usually tells me, mid paddling, when my alpha decides to come around. But He has been far too busy to deal with me, and the part of me that is the alpha just rants and raves about needing to get things done and stay in control. This mental talk is exhausting and upsetting.

So when we went to the store yesterday looking for carpet cleaning solution, and the clerk said on the phone they had it, but upon arrival they didn’t have it, and the store clerk said he would be right back but never came back, i basically had a meltdown. In the store. In front of a bunch of people. Pretty sure i yelled that i wanted to cancel my Costco membership.

The alpha is a bitch. But for some reason i am unable to fight her off when she marches in. In some ways, having an alpha side is great. It forces me to accomplish things, to focus, and to stay organized. my little side is a bit willy nilly, my alpha side keeps everything in it’s place. Including me, apparently.

It is a challenge to communicate when i feel the way i feel. In my mind i keep remembering Lars will be away, everything is up to me, i have to do it on my own, etc. It makes me resent Him, even though He isn’t doing anything wrong. It’s just my way of mentally preparing for Him to be away. i know it isn’t right. i haven’t actually struggled as hard as i am right now with the fact that he will be away in a long while. But He has been extremely busy with work this week, and i have felt quite ignored. It isn’t His fault. He can’t help it. i am the selfish one here.

i don’t enjoy this alpha crap. It’s like a cyclical argument i have with myself. Be vulnerable, no accomplish things, be sweet, be cold…. be aggressive and standoffish and rude. He doesn’t need me acting like a crazy head while He is working so hard.

alpha, please go away.

DDLG/CGL: Re-parenting & Trauma

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Today i am writing about something that is really close to my heart. i don’t usually like associating DDLG or CGL (caregiver/little) with psychology, because things can sometimes get weirdly Freudian, but today i will allow myself down this rabbit hole.

When i meet people who are unfamiliar with the Daddy Dom/little girl dynamic, i am often asked questions like, “Do you have daddy issues?”, “How do you differentiate between your father, and your partner?”, and “Did you have an unhappy childhood?”. And i can see how those questions stem from a curiosity of whether or not i am so screwed up that i think my husband is my father, and need him to parent me as such. But that really is not the case. (And i challenge you, if you don’t know much about the dynamic, to be careful how you word your questions, because yes, they can be offensive if you automatically assume the mental well being of the person you are questioning).

When Lars and i began our formal kinky journey, it began solely as a DDlg dynamic. We slowly realized that we wanted to incorporate D/s. And during a lot of that, i was on a personal journey of discovery in other parts of my life. Because to answer those questions, in some ways i do have daddy issues, and i definitely had an unhappy childhood. As an infant i was placed for adoption. My whole life i struggled with this fact. A lot of my friends, and all of my adoptive family could not understand why i struggled so much with it. Being a mother myself now, i am only beginning to be able to understand all of the trauma associated. But during this time in our marriage where we were trying new things, Lars really had His hands full. i had recently found my birth family, and it was a very ugly situation. My adoptive family did not support my search, and my birth family did not want anything to do with me. My half sister was very pleased to meet me, and we got quite close, but she did not have any information about my adoption or the circumstances of my birth, and died shortly after meeting me. The door slammed in my face, and my biological family has not spoken to me since. The woman who adopted me is a selfish narcissist that abused and neglected me my entire life. My adoptive father packed up and left when i was 2, and we have never built a relationship. In some ways i feel like a random tree in a field, that i floated off the grid, planted myself, and burrowed my own roots. But there is a lot of trauma stemming from those broken relationships. The relationships will likely never be recovered, and therefore the trauma is mine to resolve.

This is where re-parenting comes in- and is hopefully an explanation of why DDlg works so well for me. Re-parenting is a form of psychotherapy. It is controversial at best, and does not have a lot of evidence showing that it works. But i think that the term applies to my dynamic with Lars because in general, His leadership and guidance help heal some of the trauma associated with my childhood. i want to be clear that my kinks do not have anything to do with my parents, and my sexuality does not stem from my trauma. i am more referring to the nurturing, the structure, and the stability that Lars provides. i think the idea of re-parenting is accurate for me, because fundamentally a caregiver is a caregiver, whether it is as a parent, or a helper, or a kinky situation. A caregiver provides care. It is what it is. As a child, my mother didn’t know how to play with me. She didn’t know how to laugh, or joke, or have empathy. She still doesn’t. Lars gives me the opportunity to feel young. To play, to be carefree, to be silly. As a child, those things were not permitted. The older i get, the more i realize that life is too fucking short to not play, laugh, and enjoy things. The stony coldness i feel from my families is not normal, or healthy. Playing, laughing, smiling, loving the people you are near- that is vital. Our dynamic facilitates that, but even before we had a label, we were this way. Lars didn’t punish me, but he threatened to. We ran naked through the apartment we lived in, wrestled on the floor. Not as foreplay. Just being playful, just enjoying our time together. Trauma has overtaken my life for a long time, and this structure that we have allows me to shed it while i can. i don’t know if i will ever totally heal from the way i was raised, but it did teach me a lot about what i don’t want for my future, for my children, and for my husband.

Ultimately DDlg has healed my heart and taught it how to play. It isn’t because i believe Lars is my parent. It isn’t incestuous. It is the innocence in me peeking it’s sweet little face around the corner, the imp in me scampering around making mischief, the cuddly angel in me curling into Lars warm body. It is all the good things, the softness and sweetness.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Tools to Track Service

This post was originally written for The SafeworD/s Club weekly theme of service. Join the fun next week to discover the theme of: Thrills and Spills!

When i consider the word servant, honestly a big part of me shrinks away in disgust. i think about the historic significance of servitude… it wasn’t really fair in a lot of ways. From what i have learned from history books, servitude ranged from slavery to employment to indentured servitude. In a lot of cases, the only reward was being allowed to live, not even to have basic needs met. So when i really think about the word servant, it just feels unpleasant. Which is ironic, really, because as a submissive i think the general expectation is that i serve my Dominant. And in a lot of ways that is a good assumption. But it doesn’t come naturally to me. i have to work really hard at serving, at being generous, and sometimes accepting that there is nothing in it for me aside from pleasing Him.

There is a lot on the web about how to submit, guides for service, and people sharing their personal stories about their journeys in BDSM. i find that sometimes the pressure to be a perfect servant is overwhelming. Daddy has helped me find tools over the years that take the pressure away a little, and help me to be more effective in my service.

One tool that we both really liked was an app called Habitica. We used that app for about 2 years. It allows you to create a little character as well as a task list. Each task earns credits when they are completed, which can be cashed in for rewards, which you can customize on the app too. i really liked this app because it was fun to use, but if you are looking for a more straightforward tool to help you finish tasks or chores, the Chore Monster app might be a better fit. Habitica allows for almost unlimited customization.

Another tool that we use is Google Docs. We like this app because it allows us to share notes, including our rules/rewards/punishments lists and our weekly meeting notes. Even if we are apart, we can watch each other type in real time, and discuss as we go along. This really helps keep me accountable because i can’t put my notes or journaling off- He gets to watch it happen.

If you are looking for ways to serve your partner in more creative ways, by upping the romance or just spicing things up, there are 2 books that we LOVE, and highly recommend. i am a big fan of keeping all sides of relationships healthy and happy, and even though this isn’t necessarily a kinky tool, it is a tool to us nonetheless. Laura Corn has written 2 books called 101 Nights of Great Romance and 101 Nights of Great Sex- they are not guide books; instead, the pages tear out to reveal ideas for fun. They range from expensive and extravagant, to cheap and simple, but all of them have pushed our limits, and all of them have been amazing. The books were kind of hard to find, but if you can get your hands on them, they are well worth it. Service doesn’t have to be all about cleaning and cooking and kneeling and holding drinks and whatever. Service can also include things that bring joy and fulfillment to your partner.

The last tool i will list is MyFitnessPal. We use this app to keep us both accountable for our health and fitness goals. We view self care and health as service to one another- this might be unconventional, but we think that the healthier we can be ourselves, the better we can take care of each other. It is a rule on our list that i track my meals and exercise, as well as body measurements and weight. it helps keep me honest with Him and myself, and gives Him peace of mind that i am taking care of myself.

These are just a few tools that we use to help bring service to the forefront. i am not a servant, or a slave, but the way He lights up when i do acts of service for Him really encourage me to do more and more. They feed my submissive mindset, help me feel useful, and allow me to express my love for Daddy. If you have thoughts about service related tools, share them in the comments!

My little Tart

winnie’s favorite dessert is a custard fruit tart. When I came upstairs to discover that she had turned herself into one, I couldn’t resist digging in.

Isn’t she just scrumptious?

To see who else is sinning this Sunday, click the lips!

Sinful Sunday