Magical Beasts

It is not my intent to sound dramatic, but I always seem to find myself in a hostage situation. Not literally. But different things consume my life. They hold me there with their demands. Their ransom disguised as responsibility. I can see freedom, but I can’t seem to get there. And just when I resign myself to Stockholm Syndrome, I am rescued.

Released.

Despite the titles I wear and roles I assume, I cannot deny who I am.

Always, I am his.

He is the only one who can rescue me from my captors.

He tears down the walls and pulls the doors off of the hinges. He scoops me up with his strong arms and takes me away from my holding cell.

He rescues me. He releases me. He reveals me.

He reminds me of who he is when he tilts my face to his. When his eyes meet mine. When his fingers touch my skin, the invisible rope that has me bound in knots slides effortlessly to the floor.

When his lips touch mine I am transported to a beautiful place. A sanctuary where I am always safe.

He slowly leads me back to me. Because at my core, I am a flawed and needy magical beast. I crave nothing more than my Master’s touch.

I am transformed by our depth of intimacy. I am changed by our absolute love and devotion to each other.

It is beyond a kinky scene. It goes beyond lovemaking. It is a metamorphosis, really.

And maybe I am rambling on about this man of mine. Maybe I am just pensive from the amazing time we spent together. I cannot do it justice with words. It transcends language, as it was on a different plane.

But I do feel different today. Closer to who I am. Closer to him.

Unicorn 420

(More to come)

 

 

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The Journey Ahead

It has been far too long since I’ve written on here.  Life has become very hectic and my time very limited.  But life is good.  And it gets better every day.

Maestro and I are still growing as a couple.  This past year of living together has been exciting and tumultuous. And scary.  And challenging.  And wonderful.  We are a great match.  We complement each other.  Where I am weak, he is strong.

It is all good…but I really miss the scenes.  Those over-the-top sexual marathons that left us both breathless and sore.  Those weekends where our only goal was to worship each other.  We still connect.  We still play.  He still beats my ass when I am smart-mouthed and defiant.  But with the day-to-day, with the demands of work and kids, we have little time left over for those hedonistic weekends we crave.

But things are looking up.  We are moving to a new city.  M was recruited by a large firm in a neighboring state and has landed a dream job.  For now, he is commuting, but next month…we will all move there.  It’s very exciting.  What is more exciting is that we will be able to reclaim our bedroom.  Our sacred space.  The bossy two-year old is getting her own room (finally) and we will be able to sneeze without the risk of waking her.

I can’t wait to begin this chapter of our lives together.  I have never relocated with anyone before.  I have never packed up the family and moved to another place for work.  It’s a great feeling.  Liberating and secure, all at the same time.  And I cannot wait to have more alone time with M.

More to come…

journey

 

 

Grey…

Lately, I guess I have been in a bubble. With so much fun going on at home, I haven’t really kept up with current events, or even local news.

So I just missed this one…

While shopping at Target yesterday (honestly readers, you would think I live there) I noticed a large display of books near the check-out. It was the new E L James’ book, “Grey”. It was brazenly on display, right where they place the “impulse items”. I snickered to myself and thought, how appropriate.  Next to the guilty pleasures of candy bars, expensive Chapstick and individual Frappucino bottles, lurked the latest tome on the man himself, Christian Grey.

So this is a book written exclusively from Christian’s perspective.  In his words.  A work to further explore his sadistic mind.  His quirky ways.  His brooding intensity.  I pondered purchasing it.  But instead, I impulsively picked up the EOS Chapstick and a Frappucino, and made my way out of the store.

Driving away, I started thinking about the name “Grey”. I started thinking about the connotation behind it.  I began to reflect on other movies who had a brooding leading man with the same surname.  And it was distracting, so I pulled over, reapplied my Chapstick and finished up the Mocha.

One of my favorite independent films is 2002’s Secretary.  Maggie Gyllenhaal played the role perfectly and the movie jump-started her career.  And then there was James Spader….whew.   His character was none other than, Mr. E. Edward Grey, an OCD attorney who plowed through secretaries faster than a Kardashian changes shoes. To me, he is who I think of when I hear the title, “Mr. Grey”.   Since he was her boss, she always called him Mr. Grey, especially when he fashioned his angry red Sharpie to her work and bent her over his desk.  Love that movie. It was so quirky and bizarre, but nonetheless, brilliant.  And a happy ending.

spader

If you take it back a bit further, you will find the character of John Gray, from 1986’s Nine 1/2 weeks.  Back then, Mickey Rourke was the bad boy the good girls loved.  And boy was he bad in the movie.  Dark and mysteriously charming he seduced Kim Basinger and made her a wanton wreck of a woman in the end.  A not so happy ending…and a terrible sequel, too.

rourke

And of course, there is the now infamous, Christian Grey.  The ultra-successful billionaire who wears his jeans off his hips, likes his women submissive, his dungeons red and his ropes tight.

jeans

All of these similarly surnamed characters made me think…what is it about the name “Grey/Gray” that aligns with the aura of dominant mystique?  The word literally means, the “color intermediately between black and white” (no surprise there)  So is it because all of these characters embrace both the light and dark sides of their psyche?  Is it because they are the balance of both good and bad?  They have in some way mastered the place in the middle where those lines are skewed?  Possibly?  Thoughts?

But grey/gray also means “dull and nondescript without interest or character” and I wonder if that definition is a direct reference to the new book?  HA!  Just kidding!

Don’t fool yourself…I am sure I will pick it up on my next venture to Target…after all this pensive thought I need to go back, I am almost out of Chapstick.

greyd

Don’t Believe the 50 Shades of Hype…

Since the title of my blog is derived from the infamous book, Fifty Shades of Grey, I feel compelled to wax poetic about the upcoming movie, scheduled for release this weekend.

So here goes….

Quite frankly, I am growing tired of the hype surrounding the movie.  The question of rating.  The reference to “unusual behavior”. The constant barrage of trailers and previews.  And it all comes down to this, in my humble…submissive opinion.

It’s all a marketing ploy…

After all, while shopping for diapers, shampoo and beauty products at my favorite place, Target, I discovered that I can buy a “Fifty Shades of Grey” Starter Kit.  WHAT?  Yes..they exist.  There are different kits.  One comes with two blindfolds (I snickered to myself in the store, thinking that would be one hell of a game of blind-man’s-bluff) along with the obligatory massage oil.  The other kit has some form of sensual lubricant.  And they retail for about $20.00.  And just in time for Valentine’s Day, right?

So what’s all the hype about?  If you take away the kink, it’s just a story.  A contrived, unbelievable tale about a young, innocent woman who is seduced by a billionaire …who falls head over flogger in love with her.  Quite simply, in it’s skeletal form, it’s just a love story…complete with pages of playful email banter, tactile family dinners and grown-up sleepovers, with  explicit playrooms.  But because there is bondage.  Because there is a well-defined, consensual power-exchange, there exists this cloud of dark mystique.

Here’s another tidbit from my humble, submissive opinion:

Yes, it was the hot sex scenes that initially drew in the masses, causing a buzz louder than an archaic Hitachi Wand…but it’s the story of love that hooked the reader.  We all want to believe in it.  We all want someone who understands us.  We all want someone whose demons play well with our demons, right?  Well there you go…he’s a young executive with a troubled past, who happens to be a Dominant.  She is a wide-eyed, new college grad, who happens to be a submissive.  His need for discipline and control plays well with her need for direction and guidance.

And have you heard that one of the CEO’s from a major hardware chain sent a memo to several stores warning of a possible “run” on rope, in response to the movie.  Really?  And if that’s true, let’s hope they are giving away complementary safety cutters.  There are going to be a lot of novices out there…fired up from the movie…excited to duplicate the BDSM scenes from the dungeon.  And again, all of this just in time for Valentines Day.

Can you imagine what the conversation will be around the water cooler on Monday?  Wonder if the ladies will compare rope burns and dish about their marked bottoms…

And please know that my intention is not to be snarky…or cynical in this post.  I am shooting straight from my leather-clad hip.  It’s a book…that’s now a movie…that’s now a franchise…that will ride the wave of notoriety for as long as possible.  Ten years from now those “kits” will be yard sale fodder and we will look back at this phenomenon fondly, grinning to ourselves…sadistically.

As for me…and my Valentine.  We won’t be lining up at the movie theater.  Nor will we be lined up at the hardware store.  We are well-stocked over here with an assortment of accouterments that would make the man, Christian Grey, himself… blush.  We are not even going out in all of the Hallmark madness. We are simply celebrating each other…

Letting our demons come out to play together.

“Sister Christian”

Thought I’d lure you in with the title!  Who can resist that?

The sheer mention of the Night Ranger classic takes me back to a simpler time…when the biggest dilemma in my life revolved around which acid-wash jeans to wear to school. When my biggest inconvenience was having to fast-forward through the songs I didn’t like on my worn-out Footloose soundtrack cassette.  When my hopes and dreams were as big as my hair. It was a time when my burdens were few.

Life was good.

And Sister Christian was the song.

What a venture down memory lane…

If you will recall, I recently wrote about meeting one of my readers in person.  That may not seem like a big deal to some of you.  For me it was huge.  The fact that I write about D/s along with spirituality, attracts a mixed group of followers.  This particular reader finds herself on a similar journey within her marriage.  So we do have common ground, but within very different contexts.  She is married and engages in D/s with her husband.  Until recently finding the One, my Maestro, I went through men like I went through those acid-washed jeans in 1983…fast-forwarding to the ones I liked.  Thank God, I found Him in the midst of the chaos.  And thankfully I am finding what I seek spiritually, reconnecting with God.

I was initially nervous about meeting her in person.  Like I mentioned before, there is a safety and comfort of writing behind a computer screen…putting your deepest, in my case-darkest, thoughts out there for the world to see.  So the thought of meeting a reader, face-to-face, was a bit unsettling at first…there is nowhere to hide.  This is where the shit gets real.  And it did.

She was an absolute delight.  We met in a nearby restaurant and immediately hugged, like long-lost friends do.  The conversation was non-stop from the moment we got together.  She is a brilliant woman with several degrees, one of which is a PhD in Theology.  How fascinating.  We dished on everything from D/s…to kids…to marriage…to all of the different kinks we’ve read about on here….to spirituality….to business ventures….to health and wellness…to the Bible….to discipline…to healing spiritually…and all the way back around to the subject of D/s.

We eventually went to my house where we could have some privacy to talk in more depth.  We were standing in my kitchen when she asked about different blog characters.  I provided a bit more detail about those she asked about.

She then said, “Tell me where you have found God in all of this.”

Wow…that’s the question, isn’t it?  Where did I find God in the midst of my turbulent descent into BDSM?

My answer, “Everywhere.”  Which is so true.  As I reflected on the question, I realized that He has been everywhere. First and foremost, as my protector…I did some risky things in the beginning, scary things, things I haven’t even written on here, and through His grace, I came out of it safely.  And then He has served as my guide…helping me to discern those who were worthy, from those who weren’t.  Giving me the insight to know when to let go.  And then as a father…forgiving me of my trespasses. loving me unconditionally as I sorted all of this debauchery out.  So in a strange sort of way, God has been the prototype, the example of the ultimate Dom.  Which is completely her line of thought.  She just helped me arrive at the same place by posing the question.

You know, she helped me through a lot things.  And I don’t feel this was a coincidental meeting at all.  I feel that we were meant to meet….meant to be friends.  She is an amazing woman and I have deep respect for her.  I admire her commitment to her husband, to her family, to her faith.  I know I will learn things from her.  I realize that our meeting was yet another one of those God-moments in my life.  Despite her background in theology, her knowledge of the Bible, and her deep and unwavering belief, she was not “judgey” at all.  Like me, she is who she is and she is a real person. She is a person who understands my journey, without critical judgement.  A person convicted in her faith that didn’t try to condemn me for my unorthodox path.  And she didn’t try to convince me to drink the Kool-Aid.  There was no Kool-Aid.  All she was offering was friendship.

And because I felt a sister-like kinship with her immediately, I am sure she understands my choice for the post song.

So my dear friend…my Sister Christian, thank you for the visit.

And many thanks for the gift of your friendship.