Fertility treatments, Gender stereotypes, Hyper-Sexual, I am a girl, Learning to negotiate, Love, Wonderboy

Getting It In

I left you hanging there, didn’t I? It’s hard to write about all the hot stuff we’ve done when I feel like my ovaries are going to burst any second. That’s actually something the doctor warned me about, so now I’m lying on the couch and trying not to strain myself. I have 8 large follicles developing in my left ovary, so hooray for us! They’ll take them out and fertilize them on Friday, so wish us luck.

It’s funny, that though I’m hurting a bit and quite a bit more irritable and tired that usually, I’m also more horny. Figures, when you think that the hormones I inject kind of make for a super ovulation. I actually badgered Wonderboy to fuck me without foreplay so that after I’d had an orgasm or two, he still couldn’t. Finally he gave up, hugged me and said that we had just started too quickly. Situations like this always remind me of how the world has screwed us up. I would’ve never imagined that a guy would require foreplay and a sense of being loved in order to have sex when I started out this thing called sex. I thought that was something that was reserved for girls – boys just wanted to get it in.

There was also that time that I really wanted sex, but was too angry to have it. We tried to start but everything went sort of wrong when I freaked after giving him head. I just didn’t want to do it, and because I somehow couldn’t say it (because normally I do want to, even enjoy it, and I was baffled, and also just wanted to get to the sex, dammit!), I got angry and stopped everything and said that this is it, I’m done.

Wonderboy tried to figure out what was wrong and tried to cuddle me with his hard cock starting to droop, and we didn’t know where to go from there. And then he said,

I don’t really feel that the physical stuff is enough. I need to feel the love too.

I tried to explain, still pretty angrily, how I felt – what the hormones made me feel and how weird it was. How angry I was, but tried not to be or express it, because I knew I wouldn’t normally feel that way.

So you feel abnormal? Wonderboy asked emphatetically.

No, I feel normal. I just know that I wouldn’t feel this way, if it wasn’t for the hormones.

And no wonder! They are shooting me up with a doze that would work on a horse (because I’m a poor responder).

Even the leaflet on the medicine we inject said that maximum amount injecting a human is X. My dosage was more than X and also I’m being injected with another hormone to do basically the same thing at the same time. It’s perfectly understandable that I’d have side-effects. It’s just that when Wonderboy got used to the injections and treatments, he also forgot that being more relaxed about it doesn’t change anything the hormones do to me. He does remember now, and promised to go to the grocery store today, because I’m not allowed to carry anything heavy now. My left ovary are so full it could twist and burst, if I do something too strenuous. Also, it hurts just about all the time, so I’m not tempted to try anything. Walking’s enough.

After the discussion, Wonderboy started to caress me from head to toe, just sweeping his hands all over me. And it melted me. All the anger was gone. I caressed him too, much in the same way, and he said later how he felt that he was filled with my love – unlike when we started out and I was too angry.

There was sex. There has actually been so much sex during this treatment that Wonderboy’s required celibacy (for 4 days) is something we both notice. It’s been a long time since 4 days was something to remark on. I hope this is something that we’ll get to keep. But of course I start on the progesterone on Monday, and no one knows what they’ll do to me this time.

I don’t seem to get to the hot and juicy d/s games. I have too much on my mind right now. I’ll just leave these ramblings here and try again later.

Tomorrow is the big day!

BDSM, Learning to negotiate, Wonderboy

A Suggestion For a Third Player

I’ve been reading a lot about polyamory and monogamish relationships – and watching the series Married and dating, sometimes with Wonderboy even. He doesn’t usually want to watch the shows I watch for fun so it was a surprise when he actually suggested we watch the show together on Christmas morning. Well, I don’t know if these two things are intertwined or not, but I can’t help but feel they are.

We are about to spend New Year’s Eve at a friend’s place, the Champagne lady’s parents house. There will probably only be the three of us, because she lives abroads nowadays and doesn’t have that many friends here. She’s had her dalliance with the Force so to speak. She’s a lot more experienced with play parties, which she has described in pretty non-alluring way, but a lot less experienced in some ways – as in d/s relationships. She’s been open with me about her inclinations and that’s why Wonderboy knows about them too. At a point in my life when I could barely accept my submissive desires just knowing that she had them too made them feel less threatening.

She’s a wonderful woman, but a bit on the reserved side. She has never even drunkedly play touched me or anything, the thing that happens with almost all of my friends. I get the feeling that she is in fact super straight and pretty keen on keeping her sexuality in the confines of a relationship. She’s not in a relationship now, though. She also keeps Wonderboy and me on a pedestal and feels our relationship is like the Holy Grail of relationships. She’s not alone in that either, my friend Kitten (earlier just K) also feels that way and has been pretty shocked when I’ve told her about Mr M and the difficult stuff we’ve have to wade through.

So, Wondeboy brought this up as a joke. We should take a whip with us when we go!

We went for a walk yesterday in the snow that was up to our knees and waddled trough it talking about it. I asked a bunch of questions, because I felt that it was not a joke and I should address it. Were we really going to play with her or even suggest a thing like that to her? Keep in mind that the Champagne Lady is my friend and is not interested in Wonderboy, nor does she seem monogamish. Just like I am not.

Wonderboy had thought the whole thing out to an extent and it really, really bothers me in retrospect. I just don’t understand what in the world would make him bring a thing like this up now when we’re headed for another IVF in a week or so. I feel cornered and hurt. I feel I can’t even begin to hold my feelings together.

But now I thought about this Wonderboy’s suggestion in the light of my own desire for the first time. I have no desire to do this thing whatsoever. It gives me no pleasure, it only feels really threatening. I want my submission to be a gift to him. It’s sacred to me. I do not want it to be handled like a cheesy scene or a game of Twister. I also see no enhancment in the fact that the Champagne Lady would be there too. I don’t like the idea.

I do not want to do it and I hate that he had to bring it up. It makes me second-guess myself and the things we share and do. Why would he assume that my friend would want to do a thing like that with him? Because essentially he would be doing things to us, it wouldn’t be between us women and it certainly couldn’t be between me and Wonderboy, that would be just rude.

It bothers me that he brought it up. It bothers me that he thinks he can suggest it and that he supposes a friend of mine would just want to do this thing with him. It bothers me great deal. Especially since we’re just trying to hold on to the shreds of our sanity here with the IVF treatments starting and with the Big News about the reasons behind it.

Incidently, this is not the only “joke” Wonderboy’s made during Christmas holidays that’s bothering me. He also tried to find something out of my bag (with my permission) and said:

Whoops, I found your condoms!

I had to ask him then, if he was afraid of me cheating him because the infertility thing wearing on me that much – a thing we just discussed I think a week or two earlier. And he said yes. I kissed him, looked him sternly in the eyes and said that I wouldn’t cheat and that I love him and only want to be with him. The same thing he did yesterday, when he saw I was in shock because of what he had suggested.

But it isn’t enough. He’s afraid I’ll cheat and that we’ll break up. I am not. But it’s not helping that he’s so scared. I suggested therapy to him, like I did last year this time, when he had to resort to mood elevators. And he said he’d think about it, just like he did last year.

I do think the situation has changed for the better. We’re at a better place for sure. But for Wonderboy to be so scared. Are these suggestions also coming from that place and how should I take them if they are? How can I express how hurt I am without insinuating that what he suggested would somehow fundamentally be bad? I cried a little when I tried to express this to him. I said that I feel trapped and overwhelmed with the infertility and IVF looming and that I just can’t handle this right now. He said that he hears me and honors my decision (which made me secretly angry too, like he was about to get something that I now stopped. C was very likely to say no anyway!) and we’ll get back to this after 10 years.

He’s plans for the Thing were pretty reasonable by the way. He sais he’d spank us a little. He’d be dressed, we’d be half dressed. (Even this made me ghrinch. How much so? I don’t want him seeing my friend half dressed!) And then we’d talk about it afterwars. How did it feel etc.

I tried to get him to understand how threatening it might feel by way of comparing to a situation where I’d be suggesting a similar thing with us and Joe. But Wonderboy just grinned and said he has never thought about it that way (!) and it might be fun. It might. But I don’t know, if I want it enought to gamble like that. I don’t know, if we should even be in a place where you can suggest things like this. But I guess it’s better they’re out in the open. It’s just… not so long ago when he hurt me more than I can say saying he wants to fuck someone else too. In the summer. He really broke my heart there, and I’m yet to recover. Maybe I’m just not cut out for monogamishness. And maybe he is?

BDSM, Learning to negotiate, Love, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Wonderboy

A moment of harmony

I don’t feel much like writing nowadays. I’m trying to make the most of my life. Winter is coming, after all, and it’ll be long, dark, cold and hard. We can’t even make any plans to get away like everybody else since we have to wait for the treatments to start and see where we’ll be at the end of this year.

Things have settled down a bit from where we started at. I don’t want to go to the spesifics, but Wonderboy deemed it okay to punish me for my attitude not my behaviour and he did it too hard. I cracked. I realized later I should have safeworded out, but I didn’t realize I couldn’t take it before I was uncontrollably crying. It took us several days to get to the bottom of that with me losing some of my trust in him and him in himself as well. And although it sprouted a most wonderful and adult conversation about his coping skills (retreat, retreat in to silence!) and has made our sex life tons more active and happy, it has diminished the TPE d/s thing a little.

I feel more confident nowadays that I’ll get through whatever the treatments have in store for us, and that we’ll get through whatever will come with it working or failing. We have worked so hard and come so far. I’m really happy in my new job, and I think it makes a world of difference. I just have so much else to think about. We moved back to where I’m from and I have all my friends here. I just belong here. And I think I need to work hard. That I need to feel useful and competent on a daily basis, as I do in my job now.

I’ve also been a very good girl, or so my husband tells me, and so I’ve been working out and eating as per our Contract. Two healthy meals a day, no snacking and no unhealthy choices for breakfast or drinks either. It makes me happy. I’ve changed from coffee to different kinds of teas, and it makes my body feel more at ease and healthy. My stomach obviously couldn’t handle some of the processed grains and milk products or coffee I used to eat. Now that I’ve given those up, I’m much healthier, feel better and… Yeah. I am thinner too.

I don’t mind it so much, and sometimes it even makes me happy to see my face find a shape it used to have or my waist curve in again. But I’m not doing this to lose weight. I’m doing this because of the Contract and…

oddly enough…

this serves a double service of finding myself.

I’ve never run before. Out in the open, in the parks where there are lots of people who stare. They don’t really so much, but I used to be afraid that they would. And what would they think. I just didn’t want to be judged. I also couldn’t go into any of the much needed yoga or stretching classes because I would’ve felt so alien, so fat and such a misfit.

Now I run in the sun, watch the trees lose their leafs and change their color. I watch the dogs run and the people sit on the benches enjoying their day off or the evening sun. I’m finding out what my body is capable of. I’m finding out that I enjoy running. I enjoy to be outdoors.

Why couldn’t I for so long? What was I so afraid of?

I can also communicate my needs. I can lose myself again. I’ve astonished myself by asking for things in the heat of the moment I never thought I’d ask for and Wonderboy has also asked for things that aren’t so clearly in the big catalogue of sexual acts. We both are more honest and more daring, and it turns out we actually enjoy a wild variety of ordinary things, light touches, kisses, caresses of hair.

We have been kissing like when we met. Just kissing, caressing, fondling each other. Not going any further. I didn’t reach orgasm last time we made love, and I didn’t want to try because of the menstrual pain getting worse by the minute. Later we were kissing passionately, so juicyly, and I asked if he’d go down on me then. He thought for a moment and then caressed me and kissed me a little more.

I don’t think I feel like licking you right now. I feel more like kissing, he said.

Let’s kiss then! I said and we continued and it was wonderful and we were both happy.

And I remember thinking that I’d take him so completely losing himself on kissing me over licking me any day. It was also on of the few times he has ever said no to me. He’s trusting me more. He’s trusting us. He doesn’t feel that he always owes me the pleasure anymore. It makes me very happy he feels this way. That he can be honest and that he can find pleasure with me the way he enjoys it too.

D/s doesn’t have to be about a cold command or a hard hand. It can as well be about a gentle hand and loving words… and still be as commanding.

So much is self evident now. I’m hurting because running made my menstrual cramps go from bad to worse. Wonderboy came to ask, if I needed anything and said in a gentle and caring voice, You don’t have to go to the gym today, if you’re hurting really bad. Because it’s his decision, not mine. Because we both want it to be so.

Learning to negotiate, Love, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Outside the Bedroom

The Story of The Contract, first part

So the story begins.

I was reading 50 shades of Grey. It was sweltering hot at the place we were staying at and we were lying on a bed under a fan. The purr of the fan weighed more than words most of the time.

Look, I said. I showed Wonderboy the contract they made in the book.

What do you think?

He laughed and said something to dismiss the subject. But I didn’t give up that easily.

You want to do something like that?

A contract?

Yeah. We used to do a lot of stuff like that. You sometimes even ruled out outfits. Once you made me take off your socks and shoes when you came home. I liked that.

But we haven’t been doing it anymore. And I know it’s been too hard with the infertility and everything. Maybe a contract would help.

Would you like that?

Would you like that?

I might. I have to think about it.

We danced around it. We came back to it on many instances. We were both obviously drawn to the idea, but neither of us had the guts to go for it, to really suggest it. We had so many uncertainties. What would it entail? How would we keep it up? Does s/he even want it?


We were having drinks in a trendy hotel terrace bar. The tall and colourful coctail glasses sweated as we did on the plastic couch. We could hear the sound of the waves or maybe it was just the cars passing by. We could see the sea glistening in the night.

Before I would’ve never agreed to a contract like that, I start. I couldn’t have accepted that physical part… about doing workout just because you say so.

He got more vigilant, straightened himself up.

I’m listening, he said and encouraged me to keep on going with his waving hand.

I don’t think so anymore. I mean. I want to be pretty for you. And I have already been doing the butt workout because of you. It could even help for me to keep in shape. And I don’t see it as such a power imbalance anymore.

Why? he asked.

Well, for once, I’m not an example of feminist agenda, I said and laughed. I’ve just been so tangled up with the idea that I can’t jump into this, I can’t even like it, because I’ve been granted the freedom to choose. I don’t have to follow the man’s lead. I’ve known that I can, but I’ve just felt too… threatened by it.

So, what’s changed?

Well. This is what I want. I guess I was uncertain of that for long. This is what I’ve been trying to get you to agree to for the longest time. So if this is what I want, why couldn’t I give it to myself?

He smiles.

Things are really gonna change, he says in a sinister voice, pressing his mouth to my ear.

Days later I have to make sure, I need to know, becauuse it gnaws my innards not to know.

Do you only like it because I will get thinner or do you like the control? I ask in a small voice.

I feel like I’m fat and ugly in his eyes, if he needs to change me. I need to know this to be able to go on on the contract.

Well, both, he says. But mostly the control, he adds and takes my hand as we walk.

Me too, I say.


We sit facing each other in a restaurant cellar. The stone walls are brusque and grey, but the table cloth is linen and every dish more delicious than the one before.

What do you want? he asks when he slices down his cheesecake in a small cup.

There are men sitting across from our table, the only other people down at the dim lit cellar, but they have their own conversation in a different language and can probably neither hear or understand us.

I want… you to tie me up. I want you to tease me more. I want you to focus on me, touch me more. Don’t just touch my places, touch me everywhere. Tie me to the ceiling and keep me standing there for your pleasure. And it doesn’t have to always lead to sex. I think we would do well to give that thought up. Just play and see.

His face lights up. He sips his white wine with his lips twisted in a smile.

That sounds good, he muses and I’m happy.

But then I begin to wonder.

What about you? What do you want?

First he doesn’t answer and I’m afraid he’ll say what he always does. I don’t know. But he doesn’t. He says:

I want to get you handcuffs.

I shriek just a little shriek of joy.


We start with an empty page. We write all the things I am expected to do.

45 minutes of exercise 3 times a week. 3 butt workouts a week at home with the ankle weights he’ll buy me.

No snacking with the exception of fruit. Healthy meals. I can’t buy any kind of sweets, not even diet coke, without his permission.

He will decide when we have sex and what we do… but I can always ask.

I have to ask his permission to change my hair or makeup style and at home I have to wear what he chooses for me.

I have to obey his direct orders, but he has to take my wellbeing into consideration.

And if I disobey… Well. He already spanked my once because I did something he didn’t approve of, I can’t even remember what it was. And it wasn’t fun. It hurt. It just hurt. But it felt right.

And now. Now we have a flogger! It’s purple and it’s pretty and it stings. We also have pink suede restraints for me (because why should they not be pretty as well?), false eyelashes with sparkle, different kinds of stockings… and a pink jelly dildo. He didn’t tell it to me before hand, but he plans on using it on my ass when he fucks me from behind.

But how it came to pass that we even got to talking about this?

To be continued…

Ps. Sorry for the delay. I was suffering from a stomach flu and got a fever to boost.  I’m fine now, though.

BDSM, Learning to negotiate, Love, Male Lead Relationship stuff

The new order

I’m back and there’s a new order in town! Grueling relationship discussion (hysterical crying and running around the house to escape the discussion) can sometimes really turn things around. I didn’t think anything good would come from the notorious and talked Fifty shades of Gray, but something did for us. We have a binding contract now… I itch to tell you all about it, but I gotta go to work!


BDSM, Hyper-Sexual, Learning to negotiate, Love, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Sex stories, Submissive tendencies, Wonderboy

Happy submissive orgasms for everyone!

It was thursday, the day I stopped taking the hormones. Well, guess how long it took for me to start dragging heavy breaths in near Wonderboy? Guess how long it took that I started to desire his touch, smell him, taste him, feel desire in my body as it came alive just because I was close to him?

Two days.

I can’t even begin to explain (but I still will!) how it feels to be out of the deathly grip of estrogen tampering. I feel so much alive. I’d forgotten how it feels to be sensual. Well, almost, because if I really had, I wouldn’t have been depressed about being deprived of it. But you know, sensuality is so much more than the word sounds like. With the hormones I felt that my senses were dulled or even nulled totally. Kissing didn’t really give me pleasure at all. Neither did smelling Wonderboy or giving him pleasure or gentle touch on me. Or playing with power dynamics.

We went at it first on saturday, because friday Wonderboy was too tired. Or teasing me, because he’s such a tease and he hasn’t been able to express it, because my sex drive has been nullified. It was incredible just to kiss him. I felt so much more. I had forgotten, how it felt to become alive all around while kissing, just kissing him!

There was a moment where we had to pause. I confessed that I felt a little scared and he held me – and then we kept going. There was also a moment in which I was on top of him and it just didn’t feel that good. Maybe because I was scared, maybe because of other things. So I said that I didn’t feel that good and we stopped for a minute. This is a phenomenal accomplishment of me. Communicating about negative feelings and things that don’t work in a sexual situation. And I did it even after the long dry spell!

He started to lick me, because honestly, that’s been the only thing working for me with the estrogel hell. Well, it didn’t work no mo’. For a while I endured (yeah, really) and then I asked him to come up and cuddle with me a bit. And after we talked about it, and I started to feel less afraid, we kept going and it was wonderful.

I writhed on top of him out of my mind and as I fell into the black oblivion, drooling all over him, convulsing, it flashed in my mind. This is the way it has been before. It was just so far away from what I’d felt with the hormones. And after the orgasm on his cock, on him, with my drooling manic act, I truly realized why Wonderboy had been ambivalent about my orgasms and even suggested that I wasn’t really having any. The difference was so phenomenal, how could he not notice. How could he not feel something was missing, when I was missing!

And today… He fucked me, which still feels kind of violent, because of the things the hormones did to my physics. But then he stopped, when he saw that I was missing something and asked, if he’d go down on me. And my answer was immediate.

No, but could you dominate me a bit.

I had asked him to order me around when we were getting warmed up, but he had confessed that he felt scared to do it out of the cold like that, when I’d been so dull to it for so long. He did order me around a bit, though, and it made me happy. And after I asked for more…

He spit on my face. He slapped my face, over and over again. He suffocated me a bit. Hit my tits. Held my face by the jaw, the way I like – like I’m a dog of his and he’s teaching me who’s the boss. He told me he likes to hurt me. And he fucked me so hard it hurt.

When all this sunk in. When I felt it, the sweet oblivion building up from inside me, swallowing me, tears welled in my eyes, because of the catharsis, of the love, of being owned and hurt like that. But I could feel his boner getting a bit droopier inside me. He lowered himself to kiss me and asked, are you getting scared?

I was so happy he asked.

No, I’m just scared enough, I answered. I like it when you hurt me, I added in a voice he could barely hear.

It all ended in a mutual orgasm and sweaty bodies. But somehow I know we could’ve handled any other outcome too.

Now Wonderboy’s in the other room playing by himself, as I did earlier today too. He came up to me to tell me and to get an empathetic answer and reassurence I wouldn’t blow up about it later on. I hugged him and told him it would be wonderful, if he’d play a little and that I’m here for reassurence and sexual exploit, if he needs any.

I think I just want reassurence, he said.

Then he hugged me and happily closed himself in the other room.

It’s just so incredible. This in exhange for what I had less than a week ago. No wonder I felt my life was empty. This makes me think really hard on the fact that I was on hormonal birth control for over 10 years, which is not entirely unlike what I was on now. I just wonder, if I’d discovered my sexual submissiveness earlier without any hormones what so ever…