Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Housekeeping

and not the sexy service kind either...

I've had lots of thoughts of things to blog, but things have been very very busy, so I haven't. FLR-wise, things have been pretty quiet as well. In fact, I can't say as I've been of any use at all to her. Or rather, I've been doing more things around the house, but also having a good opportunity to contemplate what relationship "being a dutiful husband" and "being in an FLR" have with one-another.

I think it all has to do with expectations. If I just make the coffee because it's what I do, then there's no buzz to it. If I just pay the bills or empty the cat litter or take care of the animals because it's what I do, then there's no buzz to it. But if I do the most mundane thing - take out the trash, say - because she told me to, then FLR is happening.

What's that about? I think (as Ms. Rika says), it's about accepting service from a position of power. I think it's about wanting to be recognized for who I am. I think it's using every-day things to reinforce the fact that we have this "different" kind of relationship - or that we have a relationship at all.

Now after 20+ years of relatively happily married life, wouldn't you think that I'd know that we have a relationship? I think it's some kind of emotional "deafness" that makes it hard for me to hear that we do have a special relationship, that makes the reinforcements of an FLR important to me. Call if some kind of emotional insecurity, if you will. So possibly it should be addressed other ways (therapy, anyone? - been there, done that, got the canceled checks to prove it - not a bad endeavor, but in the end not one that seemed to get to the root of the issue).

Tidbits:

I like wanting her. That's her giving me permission to love her - her being amused that she's that important to me. I think she got that.

This is more important to me than to her. In fact, the only reason it's important to her is that it's important to me. So my not getting in to bed without her permission in fact, I think, means nothing to her. But it means something to me, and she's would notice if I didn't ask, and she'd know what it meant to me, and so would be displeased. Kind of indirect reasoning, but she doesn't really care for her own sake, but for the sake of the state of mind I'm in.

Why I Ask

One recent morning, I asked my beloved if I could have an orgasm. This whole "asking for sex" think kind of puzzles her, I think. The part where she gets to set the sexual agenda and say "No" whenever she wants, or say "Yes" and get just what she wants - that part makes sense to her.

The part that I don't think makes sense to her is the "me asking for permission to have an orgasm" part. One recent morning, a different way of explaining it occurred to me. I said,

"Listen, I get my pleasure from serving you. If I don't get to serve you, I'm not having fun." All of which is true, with some caveats.

"Asking for permission to have an orgasm means that I get my sexual pleasure from you as well. If I've been serving you well, and you decide to say 'Yes,' then my pleasure again comes from having served you. And if you say 'No' for any reason, because I haven't been serving you or because you feel like it, I'm obeying you, which is as much fun (or more to be honest) as serving you."

I think she kind of got that, and I think I said it better at the time, which is why I usually like to to write these blog entries sooner after the fact.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Link to a post that says it all

I happened across Domme Chronicles via a link from someone else's blog - I don't remember whose. But this post says everything I think I could say about rules, why I crave them, and why I so want my beloved to care about all this.

Perhaps it will resonate for you as well.

http://domme-chronicles.blogspot.com/2008/12/no-rules.html

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Tough Night

...and not in a kinky way.

I'm not particularly good at buy presents for people. I have this fantasy that the perfect gift is something you would never have bought for yourself, but which you find you use every day once it's given to you. Last year, I got my beloved a jewelry pin - she doesn't wear much jewelry, but this wasn't a formal piece; it was the kind of casual thing that you could wear on a sweater (which she does wear lots of).

That turns out to have been a mistake, which I only found out about now. She was really upset about it, viewing it as indicative of how little I think about her and who she really is. Time was that I would have tried to rationalize and explain, but this clearly wasn't a moment for that. I just apologized and accepted it - there is, after all, much truth in what she said.

She was also upset at the prospects for this year's gift. She's shared her gift list with me, and I've made sure to get as many items on it as possible. There were also issues about the guest and shopping schedule for this weekend - issues I don't even remember now given that it's ten days later and I'm just finishing this post.

That night I dreamt that she appreciated the fact that I still had my necklace on and that I respected her wishes by not sexually satisfying myself while she was away. But there was no way to share that, particularly with the bad feeling that remained from our conversation.

I really really want her to care about our "arrangement" and I have not sign that she does. Without that, isn't this all in my head? And haven't I written that before? There's not much more to say about that.

While we were happily shopping away, we had one of those misunderstandings that just happens when people are doing stuff together - I thought you were done with that, why didn't you show that to me, etc. She got short and ticked off with me. We worked it out OK, but I want to solve our problems in the context of our arrangement, not have our arrangement be icing on the cake, happening only when it's all going well. Isn't there some way we can do that? Some time, I hope to ask her. Actually, I did start to ask her, and she seemed to be thinking about it, but we got interrupted by kids or telephones or family or something. Tis the season...

Thursday, December 11, 2008

What Do I want?

I was going to title this post "Why can't I get what I want" when I realized the answer: I don't really know what I want.

Or rather, I want different things at different times.

There are times, like yesterday, when I want to be "taken in hand." I'm sorry the submissive-wife crowd have appropriated that phrase, because it describes very much how I feel sometimes: I want my beloved to just use me - practically (stuff around the house), for her own good ends (do stuff for her), and kinky-ly (for her sexual satisfaction and my frustration). At times like that, I'm not thinking critically or particularly maturely about the give-and-take of relationships. I'm not thinking pro-actively, about what I can do to serve her (which is mostly in those practical ways), or even what I can do for her (like foot rubs). There's just this need.

I have some ideas what this need is about. I think is is largely as WhateverSheSays put it in his comment to my last post: I want to feel connected to her and I want to feel wanted.

Other times, I want to just know that she wants me to be submissive to her. Kathy gets this dynamic when she describes how her husband is trained to come to her and kow-tow when she snaps her fingers. She knows that he's submitting to her, and she wants him to know it. And there are times when that's all I want: to know that she wants me to be submissive, to know that she wants me to know that I have no choice but to submit to her.

And then there are times when I just want to do stuff for her - around the house, for her, and for her pleasure. When remembering that she mentioned "We should probably get X done" is enough of a command for me to actually do it, and know that I'm doing it because it was her desire. This last is obviously the place I prefer to be. Although without the occasional scenario just above, I don't think I can stay there.

And when I'm in a funk, I think I get to the first above.

If all this is confusing to me, I can just imagine how confusing it is for my beloved. It's amazing she puts up with me.

But I'm very glad she does.

Sunday, December 07, 2008

Rituals and Formulas

There's something incredibly erotic to me about rituals and formulas - being made to say something or ask for something. So it's funny that the going to bed ritual we've adopted does not involve my asking to go to bed, but just waiting until it's convenient for my beloved to review my performance for the day.

Which she doesn't, really. More like asks me how the day went, which is not very satisfying. The discussion is good, and is the only reason I had the link to WhippedIntoShape's solitary blog entry up for so long: the discussion (and the one we have when I arrive home from work and wait for her pleasure) doesn't end until she decides that it ends.

That in and of it self is rather satisfying.

But I can't help but want some ritual or formula around it. My fantasy of having to ask her if I can come to bed, or being required to refer to it as "her" bed, or including a phrase in my response to "how was your day?" (her preferred and my least preferred opening to this conversation), like "I served you by...". I could of course do this myself, but it she doesn't care, I don't.

The simplistic formulation is that it's all about what she wants, but of course it's really all about her wanting something that will reinforce the reality of my service to her in our relationship in my mind, which in reality may or may not be what she wants.

I think we'll get places on this, though a combination of my asking for what I need, and my being really really patient and not pushing stuff. But that's hard.

Serving her is a privilege

Yesterday we were apart all day, and by the time we got to bed, it was late, and we would be getting up early. And I've got a whopper of a cold. So the prospect of kneeling by the bed doing whatever it is that that does, seemed kind of odd.

In the event, it didn't matter because she was tired and just wanted an embrace before we went to sleep, and so that's what she directed to have happen.

But that made it occur to me that kneeling by her bed to ask for permission to come to bed is a privilege that I have to earn by, in fact, serving her. And that serving her is, in some sense, a privilege as well, which I would be well advised not to throw away by ignoring it and not doing it.

Today's not looking much better service-wise, mainly because I'm sick. I guess that's real life, so I won't complain about it. But it's frustrating.

She Doesn't Make This Easy

I've been meaning to write a post about this for a while because it reveals how we are almost tragically working at cross-purposes with each other.

She expects perfection. Wouldn't I not want her to expect any less? Of course. And she knows that. But what it means is that she doesn't nag, she doesn't suggest, she doesn't remind, or even seem to notice. She knows that I know what needs to be done. So if I'm not doing it, it must be because I can't (which is why this is really a post-script to the previous post below...)

So she does what is necessary and waits for me to get to doing what I can. We experienced the real fallout from this when we picked up the pieces over the accounting - I let some things slide for three months, it got a little ugly to fix (all fixed now), and she said that it was adding to her stress level once I had said I would do it but then didn't.

Of course adding to her stress level was the last thing I wanted to do. And I'm trying to be better about that. Hmmm, in fact I ought to be doing the accounting now....

But of course what I wanted was even a "Where are we with the accounting" and a "Go work on it for an hour now, it doesn't matter how tired you are" or "Go work on it now, the rest of us are going to the movies" or something. Perfection is just knowing that it's supposed to be done so it will be done, and my beloved not worrying about it. Which ought to be more fulfilling for me rather than less. I think it would be easier to be like Her Knight and have a "Princess" who corrected me on all the details. At least I'd know she cares.

And my beloved does care, and I do know that, but I have to learn how to hear that emotionally.

Actually, it occurs to me that I just need to learn how to ask for that. Saying things is hard for me, but incredibly satisfying and erotic. So what would happen if I asked her, "Do you care about this arrangement? Do you care about whether I serve you or not?" We'd probably have a really good discussion about it. I may be a little too under-the-weather today, but soon.

Potpourri #2:"Don't beat yourself up about it"

I really try not to be a brat. I know I don't have to go over the ground about how stupid and self-centered it is to provoke the woman in your life just so that you can know that she is "in charge."

But I am far far from perfect. The other day there was a 25 pound bag of feed that needed to be moved to the animal shed. It was easy to construe things such that I didn't have time to move it, and I didn't. But later that night as she was on her way out the door, she said, "Oh, and I haven't seen to the animals yet." I looked at the work room and noticed that she'd moved it. I said, "Sorry I didn't get to moving the feed." She said, "Don't beat yourself up about it."

My beloved is wonderful. My beloved wants me to come to terms with the life and the commitments I've made and the time we really have to do things. My beloved wants to be supportive.

What I can't figure out how to say, is Do you care about this? Does it make any difference whether I do stuff or not?

I did a double-take - she did, after all, use the word "beat..." But she clarified: "You've got to find a way to do what you can and not beat yourself up about the stuff you can't do." Which is, it is true, a theme in my life, but not one which I want expressed in this context, frankly. But it really did make it clear how she feels about it.

Friday, December 05, 2008

Potpourri #1: Why Being Denied Works

Since I've been to busy to post anything coherent, I figured I'd catch up on random thoughts before any more of them flee my brain.

Over Thanksgiving

We were at the obligatory relative's house sleeping in (for a change) when one thing led to another (as it so often does in bed...) and my beloved said, "I'm going to cum and you're not." Uhhh. Wow. OK. Not like that's unprecedented or anything, but her thinking about it in advance and saying so certainly is. That was very fun, as I love making her feel good. And I got to have that submissive buzz all day.

But what's more important is the conversation that happened afterwards: "Isn't this the part that would drive most guys nuts?" she asked. In a sudden flash of insight, I realized that the reason I like not reaching orgasm when we have sex is that it gives me permission to desire her. As I've written so many times in the past, there's a lot in this about "permission" for me.

So when I desire her,and orgasm, and lose that immanent desire (lust?), it's like it don't desire her (at least not in the same way) for a while. So when she facilitates that process (by letting me cum), it's like she's saying, "It's not important to me [her] that you desire me." And that's disappointing.

So I told her, not reaching orgasm, wanting her all day, was like having her permission to be in love with her, to desire her. And that is more satisfying than a quick physical pleasure. I was surprised, because I didn't intend to say that, but there it was.

And I think she got it; it was the first formulation of this stuff that made sense to her.

Monday, December 01, 2008

Some Sort of Slow Evolution

I'm sorry I left the previous post at the top of the blog for so long, because things aren't as dire as all that. And the challenges that face me and my beloved in this process seem to be as much of my making as anything else.

There are weeks when I don't want to do this at all. That's a simple way of saying it, but it's actually much more complicated than that. It's not like "I'm cured!" (that wonderfully ambiguous last line from the movie version of A Clockwork Orange). It's more like I have no desire at all - sexual or for whatever passes for "fun" or much of anything. It's more like being dead (or deadened) than being cured. What it is, actually, is being depressed - I know, I've been there.

(Certainly the economic news doesn't help; certainly the rush of family obligations around the holidays don't help, surely the distraction of the political news doesn't help, but in the final analysis, I think what's going on inside is more important than what's going on outside.)

Normally, though, in the context of a dysfunctional sexuality, that's a good thing, because it means that I'm not lusting after what I can't have - whatever that satisfaction is (or I think would come from) being in a deeply submissive relationship. But now that my beloved and I are exploring what this relationship might be for us, it's very problematical.

I am, for sure, NOT going to say to her, "Could we put this all on hold for a minute, I'm not in to it right now."

No, instead, as a discipline, I kneel beside the bed every night because I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed in without her permission. I do it for my self as a symbol to my self of the fact that I am committed to doing this thing, even on those days when I don't exactly know what "this thing" is, or why I'm doing it, or whether she even cares or notices.

And that minimal level seems to keep things alive enough for me.

No fool, my beloved, she said early on, "What are we going to do when you don't want to do this?" She's known me for a long time. I replied that I hoped that what we were doing was at a sustainable level, even during those times, or even enough to prevent those times from happening. Sure enough, it was the former rather than the latter, but that's by far good enough.

Now desire revives, which I'll take as a lifting of whatever depression was upon me. And a couple of comments by my beloved and a bit of unexpected play from her makes this all very much (and mostly gratifyingly) alive again.

Oddly enough, feels good to be back.