And So It Begins…

Today is the DAY! M is in route and in less than seven hours..he will be here. The kids are beyond excited and I have been “nesting” all week to get things ready for his arrival. (Special thanks to those who helped me get it all together, Lou and PBR, thanks ladies…your help and support made all the difference!)

Sometimes, there is a song that just fits the occasion, perfectly. Leave it to John Lennon to have the right words.

It’s time to spread our wing’s and fly,
Don’t let another day go by my love,
It’ll be just like starting over – starting over,

Save travels, M.  We are all ready for you to come home.


“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.

Watching the Wheels

“Watching the Wheels” is one of my favorite songs of all time.

John Lennon died on my eight birthday. I always felt a kinship…a responsibility to remember him because we share a day.  And to me, this is one of his best.

I find this song appropriate as I prepare for my day tomorrow. A few posts back I wrote about a reader who reached out to me as Maestro and I were about to watch Exodus. Her message struck a chord with me as we are on a similar journey…both of us seeking God and enlightenment in our D/s relationships. And tomorrow, I will have the opportunity to meet this lovely woman.

As serendipity would have it, she is visiting a nearby state and is willing to make the drive here to meet me. I have to admit, I am a bit nervous. Yes, I know….I’ve done things far scarier than this that involve a variety of gentlemen and a variety of scenarios. But this is a different kind of nervous. After all, outside of a handful of friends and close acquaintances, no one knows my real identity. On the blog, I am anonymous…equipped with a laptop and a pseudonym.  I can express my thoughts freely.

And tomorrow, I will sit face to face with a reader (who I might add is also sharing her identity) to discuss this tumultuous journey of mine. To discuss the experiences within her journey (hers is a bit different, as she is exploring D/s in her established marriage). To discuss where we find God in all of this. How we seek solace in the guidance and direction of our partners and ultimately in The Almighty.

I am excited to meet my new friend.  I am eager to hear about her journey.  I hope that we are able to glean much from each other’s experiences.  It will be refreshing to talk with someone who sees the dynamic in a similar light as I do.


So I leave you with this…

People say I’m crazy, doing what I’m doing
Well they give me all kinds of warnings, to save me from ruin
When I say that I’m okay, well they look at me kinda strange
“Surely, you’re not happy now, you no longer play the game”

50 First Dates

I have a feeling this post will be cliché-laden.  I apologize to those readers who loathe the overused cliché, but it’s all in good fun.

I began this reflective post prior to the New Year as a summary of my experiences so far…but a family crisis prevented me from writing much more than the title.  (More about that will come in a later post)

So here goes….

“You’ve come a long way baby”

This journey started out as a venture into the exploration of Dominance and submission.  I honestly wanted nothing more than a simple romp in the hay with a man in charge…in control of himself, able to direct and control me.

So let’s reflect on those who were nothing more than one-hit wonders…those not worthy a repeat performance….or worthy of anything other than a mere play-date.

You know, “you never get a second chance to make a first impression.”

“At the end of my rope”

There was Don Knots…the fact that this boy scout was into tying knots more than he was into me, was a sign that I needed to do a better job screening my suitors.  But we all have to start somewhere.  Guess I started at the bottom, on the bottom, as the bottom…literally.

“An apple a day, keeps the doctor away.”

Then there was the good doctor…”Dr. Pierce”.  He gets the award for the most awkward date ever.  EVER.  But I did enjoy myself on the trip to his little corner of the world and I learned quite a bit about hockey.  Yes.  You read that correctly.  Much of our date was centered around his view of a televised hockey game.  And I can now say that I have experienced a piercing.  Even if it was with Sheldon’s twin.

“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”

There was the over zealous firefighter.  Never had a play-date and feel like I dodged a bullet there.  I could feel some serious stalker tendencies and I likely would have ended up tied to him for longer than I wanted.  With no escape.  Nice guy.  Just wrong guy.

“Sharp as a marble”

There’s Opie.  I know I haven’t named him before now…pure vanilla.  Pure waste of time. Not worthy of a test drive around Mayberry.  Not the one.  Not even close.  Not the droid I was looking for.  Bless him.

“Missed the boat”

There was the Captain.  Such potential there…but not what I was hoping for.  Reminds me of a NFL draft pick gone wrong.  Had all of the credentials, but just fell short when it was game time.  I bet he is his own worst enemy.  Another nice guy, but not a Dom at heart.


Now onto the next group…

“Business at hand”

Marky Mark and I had one playdate…however, we found that from a business stance, we were exceptionally compatible.  So we channeled our intensity into some creative business ventures.  We continue to be friends and I have immense respect for him.  And I will admit, we had a great time…but we are far better as business partners.

“Your father wasn’t a glass maker”

There’s Father D.  Kind man, but just not Dominant enough for me in the way I need it.  He was too controlling for my taste.  I think he would fare better with a younger woman who looks to him as a Daddy.  I just couldn’t go there.  Not with him.  I feel certain he will find the right fit.  She’s out there…I even helped him build his online dating profile.  Wish the best for him.

“Yanking my chain”

There is The Natural/The Seeker.  Our time together was his first foray into the lifestyle.  A quick-study, he looked to have incredible potential.  I had great sessions with him.  We seemed to connect on every level, but the conversation fizzled the farther we went.  We ran out of things to talk about.  Looking back, I now understand why he was limited in communication.  He was in another relationship and had not been honest with me.  Which is the reason I let him go.  No trust…no play.

“Good fences make good neighbors.”

The Goodfella…Henry Hill.  Even though we never sealed the deal, we became good friends. And when I turned to him for advice…he never steered me wrong.  And he is Ray Liotta’s twin when he wears a business suit.

“Hope springs eternal.”

There’s Hemingway and Billy the Kid.  On opposite sides of the age spectrum, these two fellas were gents in the true sense of the word.  Both brilliant.  Both successful.  Both incredibly fun.  Both served a great purpose in my life.  I realize that they were getting me ready.  Preparing me for something bigger.  Something more.  I was able to explore a deeper friendship with these two and it allowed me to be open for the One.  Through my connection with them, I realized that I (the cynic) could open my heart to the right One.

“You live and you learn….”

There’s Ike Turner.  I hate to waste space even mentioning his name, but it needs to be written.  Ladies (and gents alike) listen the little voice inside your head that tells you something is wrong.  Don’t try to rationalize.  Don’t overlook red flags.  I was lucky.  I was able to learn a lesson with minimal damage.  There was far more that happened on that Sunday in July than I shared.  Maybe one day, I will put it out there, maybe I won’t.  But I learned from it.  And I am stronger and wiser because of that wrong turn.

“Baptism by fire…”

There is the one I call Sir.  The one who helped me understand that what I sought was more than just play time.  That what I really wanted had a purpose.  He helped me see the spiritual side of D/s, which led me to begin writing this blog.  It led me to see things in a different light.  We have lost touch over the last few months.  Wish him the best.  Our limited time together was pivotal in directing me on this path.  Peace be to you, Sir.

And there’s the title to this blog.  Some of the BDSM purists initially overlooked my page because of the title.  I’ve gotten some serious flack for it.  But being in marketing, I couldn’t resist the opportunity.  I felt like giving the blog this title would open it up to a larger audience….which it has.  And I do feel that I have been saved.  I am humbled by the number of followers and views I’ve received in this past year.  I do hope that my readers have gleaned something from my experiences.  

So that’s not 50 first dates, is it?  No, not quite 50.  But all of these encounters.  The good. The bad.  The ugly.  The hysterically funny.  All were leading me to the One.  So 50 first dates on 50 Shades of Saved led me to One Amazing Man, my Maestro.  I can’t wait to continue chronicling our journey towards the enlightenment we seek together.  So I will conclude with this…

“A good man is hard to find.” I am thankful that I found my Maestro.

He found me “in the nick of time.”

And “the times, they are a changing.”

Stay tuned readers…”there’s lots coming down the pike”  (hee-hee)

(Here’s a cliché for what is on the way…“Space, the final frontier”)

Happy New Year.


Have you ever lost your way?

I mean, you know the right way to go, but you chose to go a different direction? Having enough adult ADD to be dangerous, I do this all the time. I travel all over the state, and I have found alternate routes to most of my destinations.
Sometimes, I need the interstate. I need the mindlessness of the highway. The speed and ease of “getting there”.
Other times I choose an alternate route. It may take me through areas with idyllic scenery. I don’t get there as quickly, but I savor the trip. I often find myself reflecting on living away from it all. Slowing down the pace. Enjoying nature. Nurturing my brood in a simpler place.

And then I realize how far away I would be from Target, and that thought-process comes to a screeching halt.

In all of this madness…that is my life, I sometimes forget that this is a journey. And I have made a commitment to the destination, but the course in which I get there is subject to change. It changes day-to-day, sometimes minute-by-minute. It’s about the choices I make.

I know where I want to go. I know where I want to be. How do I get there?

If my ultimate destination is to be closer to God, then I need to evaluate my course.

As I have said before, I am an addict.
I am a sinner.
I am not seeking perfection, I realize that’s not possible.

I seek enlightenment.

And each and every day, without fail, I receive a message from someone who acts as my GPS.

He gives unselfishly of himself, with no ulterior motive. And I have no idea why he does this for me. I am a broken, damaged person that seeks the company of father figures and agents of British intelligence…of boy scouts and cowboys.  He could never have any real interest in me.

But without wavering, this person accepts and supports me. Even in my craziness, as I plan outings with sadists, he is there.

And just when I am about to take a wrong turn to explore the scenery, Sir reminds me of my destination. I know he’s right. I find it easiest to submit to this enigma who scares me more than any of them.

He takes me to the scariest place of all, my heart.


To Sir, with Love (or something like it)

So a few of you reading my prose asked about the correlation between my torrid tales and the tagline: “how my journey as a submissive lead me closer to God”

God, you say?

I know what you are thinking….
How does He fit in, in the BDSM scene?

I will begin by telling you the story of “Sir”

Boredom is a dangerous thing for me as I have an overly active mind. After registering on Fetlife, the fetish website, (that’s a story for an entirely different post) I decided to try an alternative dating site. I knew I did not want to do the ones that promise marriage. No, no Our time, and DEFINITELY NO E-HARMONY, that almost guarantees marriage. Honestly, that is the LAST thing I want! So I found Ok Cupid. The site was well put together and easy to navigate. The questions were a bit odd and intrusive, but I liked it. I decided to “shake things up” a bit. So I created a very racy profile.

SIDE NOTE: You know, as I did this I had a visual image of myself sticking one toe in the pool…is the water too cold? Too warm?

Or just right?

Less than 24 hours later….

I had over 80 messages. WHAT???? It was a good picture, yes. But the way I wrote the profile was the real clincher. Perusing the messages, a handful stood out. One of which was a 42 year old gentleman from a neighboring state. Not too close, but not too far. I found him interesting.

I engaged him in an email exchange. He definitely had a tone to his messages, a very dominant tone. I was intrigued. We talked for hours upon hours. He was an amazing listener and really seemed to understand the dynamic I sought. He called me, “young lady” and I was instructed to refer to him as, “Sir”

One Thursday night, he asked, “What’s your work schedule tomorrow?”

“I am working from my home office”

Sir: “Great, I am coming to see you.”

Panic set in…(do you recall my track record with Friday encounters?) We agreed upon a meeting place and it was set for 11:00 the next morning. YIKES….

We met in the parking lot of a local restaurant. We were coming back to my place, but I thought it best that I pick him up and bring him to my house. No exchange of addresses.

That moment when we saw each other across the parking lot was intense. We just stared at each other, for what seemed like several minutes. He walked over to the car.

In his bossy tone, “I am getting my bag out of my car. You get out and sit in the passenger seat. I’ll be right back. I am driving your car.”

Dominant in every way, he drove aggressively to the house. We barely spoke a word. When I walked around the car to go through the garage, he grabbed me and practically laid me out ON THE CAR, kissing me.

We then moved to the kitchen…clothes began coming off. He pinned me to the stove and just as we were moving to the bed and things were about to go to the next level, God walked in.

Twelve days early, I started my period….WHAT??

I recognized it for what it was…a divine intervention. I thought this quietly to myself.

But instead of packing up the party, we just laid there. Naked. Exposed.

He said, “You know this was no accident, don’t you?”

“What was no accident?”

“That we met. Made these plans which did not come to fruition”

I felt a flurry in my stomach…how did he know?

“Explain what you mean,” I said. Curious to hear his take on things.

“Think about it. We both jumped into the pool without knowing much of anything. (interesting analogy…remember my words above about sticking a toe in the pool) I could have been a serial killer. You could have been a psycho. But we’re not. We’re here for a purpose”

I laughed and said, “Well, sorry to spoil that purpose…Mother Nature”

We talked and talked. Honestly, I don’t do well with that level of exposure and vulnerability. He asked me if I ever thought I’d marry again.

“Me? Marry again?” I asked. “Never again. I obviously don’t do well with marriage.”

He said, “That’s not your choice, young lady.”

I said, “Umm. Yes it is, SIr.”

“It’s God’s choice. He has a plan for you. You haven’t married the right person, but he exists for you. But you have to surrender fully to God’s plan to receive it.”

WHAT??? We are lying there naked and he has brought God to the scene? I was irritated and CONVICTED at the same time.

“What if I just don’t allow myself to find the right person. What if I choose to live my life, raise my kids, work my job and go it alone?”

“Young lady, you are never alone. The sooner you realize that, the better your life will be.”

It hit me like a punch in the gut. I knew he was right. God had been communicating to me in many different ways. I had ignored the messages.
But now.


In my bed…

Lying naked…was a man, a sinner like me, that delivered words that I chose to hear.

We continued to talk for hours. I received every word because in this moment, for once, I had clarity.

Time to leave.

This time I drove. And once again, we were quiet in the car. Both of us reconciling the afternoon in our heads. In our spirits.

I really didn’t expect to hear from him again. I felt as though the message had been delivered, the purpose fulfilled and our paths realigned.

But it wasn’t over. It isn’t over. Things have shifted. Sir now acts as my Dom in a much different way. Each morning, I am given a scripture reading and/or instructions. And I submit. I follow the instructions. I read the scripture. I feel God’s presence in my life, through this man I call, Sir.

Am I perfect? NO
Do I still sin? YES
Am I still searching for the Dom/sub dynamic? YES

But am I a better person because of Sir? YES

So I write this post, “To Sir, With Love” as he continues to show me the love and protection I seek from my journey as a submissive. He acts as a voice to my conscience.

Thank you, Sir. I hope you understand what a difference you are making in my life and on this journey.