Happiness and feeling equal and not ashamed of what you want can do this to people

Being really sick has been eye opening as hell. In a good way. First Wonderboy had a really bad influenza for a whole week and stayed at home because of that. Then I got the same damn thing and I’m still in recovery.

With Wonderboy home we got time to mend our relationship. We’d spent the weeks leading to the sickness discussing our infertility and other personal issues in depth. It had been really important to me, but Wonderboy thought it was just wallowing.

You could probably see that I was pretty frustrated with our relationship and it culminated in me complaining about how Wonderboy takes part in housework? I believe that this is because of my therapy. I’ve begun to see, how I step over myself almost instinctively, which is stupid, because then the people I do stuff for don’t even realize I’m doing stuff for them.

I have a small but significant example from yesterday. Wonderboy had ordered us pizzas. This happens like once every three months. We were lying on the bed with his laptop ready to bust some myths (you know what show I’m talking about) and pizza boxes on our laps. Suddenly Wonderboy realized he wanted to add this chili ketchup on his (also seen in the Big Bang theory episodes!). Since he was holding the laptop he just assumed that when he’d say he wanted it, I’d jump up and get it. These kind of situations just open my eyes so much, because now I have no trouble drawing the line. I didn’t want the kethcup. There was really no reason that I should get it. Except the fact that I’ve been completely and utterly too nice my entire life and done things like that, because I’ve put other people’s situations, emotions and whatnot before my own. I didn’t have that trouble now!

Great idea, I said.

He gestured to the laptop in his lap.

Why don’t you get it? he said.

No! I laughed out. It was so clear. There was no doubt in my mind or my voice. It’s such a small but important thing. Why would I compromise my comfortability to get him something while he did nothing? It boggles the mind that I used to do this. What is also important, this being a d/s blog and partnership in some respects, is that I would totally do this, if it was a d/s thang. But it’s not as evidenced by his behaviour. I feel this attitude of his – and mine of course, I am also to blame for carrying the weight – impaires our d/s dynamic. What effectively changes, when he orders me, if I’d do it anyway?

I’ve actually been using this in a way to lure him to order me around. When he would ask me to give him the milk from the fridge, I’d just say no. He would ask nicely again and I would still say no. Then I’d add smiling, There’s one way you haven’t tried yet. He’d get it and command me to get the milk, smiling, and we’d both be a little happier for it. The small things. They just make the umph.

This can’t happen in the setting we’re set out for ourselves. For his dominance to be meaningful in our relationship – because I’m not trying to say that people can’t do these things differently – we need to be equal and feel equally responsible and cared for.

It all comes back to our sex life that has been through a shredder recently. This inequality and my eyes opening about it has had some serious consequences on our sex life. How could it not, when everything we love has so much to do with power play? I even uttered the words I thought I’d never hear from my cock loving lips: I don’t want to give you blowjobs for a while. Wonderboy tried to make fun of what I said by saying: Okay. So you will never, ever again give me a blowjob. Get used to it, he added mimicing my stern voice.

No, I just don’t want to give them right now.

And then we discussed what had happened, when I’d asked him to lick me and he didn’t. I said I felt that there was no way for me to communicate my needs, because while we were having sex, he just wouldn’t oblige because of the d/s. And when I brought the things I wanted and needed up later on, he would chastise me for not asking for them while we were sexy. Now I had the opportunity to show him, how I actually did ask for things I needed, but he wouldn’t oblige. And how that had actively harmed our sex life in the past, because I’d just given up on trying to get what I needed, if he wasn’t magically doing it right all along.

Then I politely asked him to think of ways I could communicate that I really mean what I say and really need those things, because there wasn’t one in my opinnion. This lead to him realizing the same thing and seeing my situation for the first time as it is. It’s not just my fault, it’s a problem with communication. So, effectively, also his problem. He suggested that I’d try the way of appealing to him.

Maybe if you’d say “if I’m good enough, will you do this thing for me? I am a really good girl, aren’t I?”

So, by incorporating it to our play, I could tell him that I really wanted something. This seemed like a good idea. Instinctively I used it yesterday, a couple weeks after the conversation.

He had lifted me on top of him and demanded that I grind myself against him in just the right way. He enjoys playing with my tits and especially licking and sucking on my nipples while we fuck with me on the top. I can’t actually feel much in the way of his tongue’s magic touch in the heat of the moment, and yesterday was the first time ever, I could utter the words: Bite them. Please? Pretty please. I could see him hesitate for a nanosecond before I added the very girly and innocent please. That was just what had happened before. How his brain works. He almost didn’t, because he’s in charge. But then when he did, he bit me like he wanted to. Viciously. I came instantly. It was ridicilous really, but also pretty nice to prove the point of d/s being a two way street. He could see straight away how hearing me affected me.

Sometimes even a submissive knows exactly what they want and it can be imperative to fulfill those needs. I am not a machine and even though I enjoy the submissive role thoroughly, there’s also the very real, corporeal (heh) responses and needs that just can’t be walked over.

So, anyway. Baby steps maybe, but things are improving how ever slightly or slowly. Wonderboy’s been washing the laundry like there’s no tomorrow and doing chores he never used to. (And I never realized!) He’s also begun to talk about his anxieties in a lot more open way, and so have I!

Wonderboy just called to let me know that he’s heading back home from work. He’s still sick. Funnily enough this is almost good news. We get a little vacation with us both home sick. There’s been a lot more sex now that he’s home all the time. A lot more honest talk about wanting it too. And I? Well, my engine’s been running like crazy and I’ve been having orgasms alone and with him many a time every day. I just don’t feel guilty about it anymore. As I don’t feel guilty about not fantasizing about him, if he’s going down on me or while masturbating.I don’t feel guilty for wanting him to do things for me that might be uncomfortable for him or that he might actually not enjoy doing. I’m not worried about that anymore.

This, my new un-worrisome attitude, realized in me having three or was it four orgasms last night while we fucked. One was for him biting my nipples while I was riding him. One was from him dominating me with his eyes and overpowering me with his hand in my hair, hard, unforgivable. I just felt hot waves and shivers run through my scalp, back and ass, when I fell and fell in to the submission, in his rough hands. He spanked my ass and unlike recently I was able to fully take the hits, enjoy the pain that went through me like a wave of electricity. I made a small whining noise that wouldn’t stop. I was his little pet, waiting for it, not wanting it, craving for it. One, I think, was from him fucking me really fucking hard and explaining how he really didn’t give a fuck if I enjoyed or not. His eyes. His eyes locked on mine. His lips. Parted so enticingly. My submission was so overwhelming that after the sex was over and we were done, laughing and hugging and tangling on the bed, he took me by my hair, pushed me against his chest and shook me from my hair. I came once more.

Happiness and feeling equal and not ashamed of what you want and enjoy can do that to people.

Also. I have found Rocco Siffredi. <3 This guy moans and boy do I love the way he dominates those chics. I just wish the chics could be a little less noisy.

My share

I’ve had a lot to think about. I’ve had a lot of emotions to wade through.

After I stopped taking the hormones, and now stopped taking the anti-depressants too, I haven’t felt like I want sex. I haven’t even been able to masturbate. A couple of times I’ve felt the rare urge to come, but it’s been muted somehow. When I tried touching myself, it felt repulsive. I mean literally, the feeling of my fingers caressing my pussy was just all bad. It made me want to puke. So I haven’t done, well, almost anything.

We fucked last week once so that I came. The other time I just lay there, trying to connect and enjoy, but didn’t. When Wonderboy had come, I didn’t feel like I needed an orgasm. I felt like I hadn’t had sex. I felt… not numb, but detatched somehow. I was okay and I didn’t even have to try to convince Wonderboy about it. I was so mellow and okay that he knew I was fine. He asked me, if I liked, when he uses me like that and I said yes. I made sure, when he seemed so chipper about it all, that he did realize I hadn’t come. It’s important to me that he knows, if that happens. I like it when he uses me or hurts me, but he has to do it knowing what he’s doing. He answered gently,

There will be a time for orgasms, and caressed my head and pulled me close, gently.

It had the same effect as a child. He was convincing me that it’ll happen. It wasn’t meant to happen now. I felt safe.

What I have been feeling, though, hasn’t been safe or loved. It’s been angry. After all the medication of both kinds had left my body I felt positively angry. I saw things I hadn’t let myself see before.

I was angry at Wonderboy, because I realized even though we’ve decided to be totally equal and do all the housework 50/50, I end up doing a lot more. He just doesn’t do it and at some point I get fed up, working from home now I see all the shit every hour of every day, and then I do most of the stuff. I realized this, when I fell really, dramatically ill a few weeks back. It was a stomach flu that only touched him, but put me to bed for 5 whole days. I haven’t been as sick ever in my adult life without going to the hospital. I managed to walk to the bathroom and back, but that was it. I couldn’t read or even watch anything from my computer, because that made me feel nauseaus. I just slept through the days, vomited, tried to drink some water and was in so much pain.

And it was my turn to go to the store. When I asked Wonderboy to please go and get some juice and whatever he needed, because I was just way too sick to do it, he said you can do it tomorrow, when you’re better. The next day I asked him to go to the store, and he finally did after many pleads. He came back with only one carton of juice and not anything else for me. The next day I had to plead again for him to go to the store, I even had to make it into an argument before he did, and he still forgot to bring me the yogurt I asked for.

This, for me, was a huge epiffany. I’ve gone to the store on his turn, when he’s been tired of work. When he’s had to use public transport and I’ve had the car. When he’s been working late, has been sick or is feeling blue. I’ve sometimes done it surprise him. I’ve sometimes done it without asking him, sometimes he’s asked me, sometimes he’s… what’s the word… blackmailed me into it. He might have said he’d be too tired to do anything with me, if he also has to go to the store.

I’ve always thought he’d do the same for me in a heartbeat. I just never ask. He just never does it.

Now I realize that even, when I’m so ill I can barely make it to the bathroom, it isn’t enough reason for him to help me. He only went to the store, when he wanted something, not when I needed the juice, because I couldn’t keep anything solid down.

I also realized that he was totally thrown by my sickness. He couldn’t face that I was sick. He kept asking me, if I’d get something for him from the other room and even nagged (yes, I’m going to use that word here) about, how he had to do all the food, that he ate alone, alone. That I wasn’t there helping him. I pointed it out to him that he was the only one A) hungry B) able to eat food C) in good enough health to stand the required time to even cook. But he was persistant and I was really ill and not really in a very good situation to negotiate and defend my case. I fell asleep and he was left to brew.

At first, when I got well enough to think – that’s what I do best – I was just pissed off. Just. Really. Really. Pissed. Off.

I noticed a lot of the same thing in a lot of situations. It wasn’t just, when I was sick, it was every day, everywhere. And I put a wall between us. I needed a wall. I needed a break from anything sexual with him, especially anything d/s, since he wasn’t filling up his end of the bargain. The deal was that he could dominate me, even 24/7 use me in whatever way he desired, if at the bottom of it we would share the same responsibilites and he was doing his part of housework, paying bills and generally caring for our family. He didn’t and hasn’t done. He’s let himself slide right back in where he was while he lived with his mother.

So I started enforcing our deal every time he hadn’t done what he ought to. I didn’t concern myself with thoughts like “ooh, he must be tired”, “it’s too late”, “he’s had a long day” or anything. I just plainly said what he needed to have done already and when he trew a tantrum about it, I just kept insisting that he do it, because it was his responsibility. He threw the mom card at me, like he always does. He got angry, because I hadn’t informed him early enough, so how could he have known. I didn’t fall for it. I calmly said that it was his responsibility, and he needs to do it without me reminding him over and over again. I also said that I’m not his mother and he needs to learn to do these things by himself, automaticly, just like I have.

First time I tried to ask him do something for me, and he didn’t, I slept in the other room. I also threw all the dirty laundry on the floor – I’d been waiting for almost two months for him to do them – and gathered all the shit he’d just left lying around in one place (packages, paper, bills, bottles, anything) that I would’ve usually just sorted and recycled as the day went by and I would pass by it. When I woke up, he came to me, careful and pleading, and asked what was wrong. I told him I didn’t accept what he had been doing, how he was acting. I told him he had not made me believe that he cares about my career or respects my work and the work I put in our home. I told him that it felt very wrong to me that he would have a room to himself and just stay there by himself and then shit all over my workplace in the other room and not care at all about my space. He apologised and promised to change his ways. He immediately cleared my work table of his belongings and generally tried to show me that he cared.

The second time I did this he slept in the other room, angry. I reminded him to sweap my office table from the coffee he’d spilt and some other minor things, and since it was late and he was tired, he just blew up at me. This was the point where I told him I wasn’t his mother and that he needs to learn to do these things on his own. Otherwise…

I didn’t actually say the otherwise out loud. But I was so mad at him that I seriously considered leaving him, if things don’t change. I thought that I can’t live my life suffocated by responsibilities like this. That I will become so bitter. And I thought, this was the thought, the big ball of ugly feeling I had in the bottom of my stomach, that I couldn’t have a child with him, if living with only him meant that I had to take care of everything. How would it be with a child? This was not what I wanted. I signed up for an equal relationship. I had done my share. Where was his?

I didn’t have to tell him, how I felt. He could feel it. He knew that this was the last straw. This was it. He’d have to change.

So, when he came back from work after he’d slept in the other room, he immediately, from the door, asked, if there were things he could do. Trash he could take out, laundry he could wash…

It’s been, I think, a little over than a week from the blowout, maybe two. When I spent a night at my dad’s and came back, he had tidied up the whole apartment, taken out trash, sweapt the counters and tables. He has never done anything like it before. He has also done a lot of laundry. I have yet to hear him complain about his duties. He’s been, I think, more loving, if something. He’s been careful and gentle with me. He has felt, how I don’t desire him and he’s tried to make it right. He’s realized, rightly so, that sometimes not wanting sex and not desiring him isn’t something that’s really about sex at all.

And I think that’s why.

I put my hand on his cock yesterday. I felt it grow a little. I kissed him, but he didn’t kiss me back like I wanted. He was still cautious.

I know what I want today, I said.

What? he smiled tentatively.

I took a pause and then licked the air in front of him a bit.

You want me to lick you? he asked.

Yeah, I smiled and buried my head in my hands, then looked up at him and smiled. Yeah, I’d really like that.

If you’re a good girl, he said.

That’s so unfair! How can I know, if I’ve been a good girl or not! I said, laughing.

We’ll see.

When we fucked I was more assertive than ever. I told him I wanted him to lick me. I told him I wanted to be on top of him for him to slap my butt and for me to feel his cock at the same time. He didn’t oblige to me, he made his own decisions. Made me wait. Made me beg. It made us so happy.

When we were through, or so I thought, he went on to start licking me like I’d asked before.

I don’t think I can have another orgasm so quickly, I said and he came back to cuddle me.

I want it to be know that I was ready to do it, though, he said.

Next time I will not give in into the d/s play. He will do as I tell him, right away. I have no patience for waiting anymore. I wanted him to lick me before, not after. This will not do, no matter, how hot it is for me to lick him.

My share can’t be just to obey. It can’t be to carry all the responsibilites and then having no say. It has to be equal in building this relationship. I need my voice back.