the stool

It took all day to come up with something that REALLY reminded me of submission. My head isn’t in a good place with this. But as things do, it came to me when I wasn’t even thinking about it. 

This rickety, old, busted up thing is my favorite. 

It reminds me of the beginning and the end, of love and hurt, of pain and soothing. It reminds me of our old closet and the awakenings that happened there, but also the tears and struggle. It makes me sad to remember, but also happy. 

It is a physical reminder that even when things feel broken and irredeemable, there can still be hope. If it happened once, it can happen again. Good. And bad. 

Trusting, especially when you feel the most alone. Surrendering the fear. Embracing the current.

This is submission.

Happy New Year! 


free range sub

Just about every day, I get tasks from Sir. He will text me on our shared app and sometimes leave others written on the board in our closet.
They help me stay connected to Him while He’s working, but they also help keep my own head in the right frame of mind (which lately, if you haven’t guessed, is IMPERATIVE.)
These tasks include sexy things, usually a chore or two, maybe some photos, writing, and most always the rubber band.
Today is no different.
I received my list soon after He headed out.
Rubber band hourly. Check.
Write on wrist. Check.
Cuffs. Check.
Pictures. Check.
A little relief in my pants. Check.
But today there was no specific chore!
In fact, He said “straighten up, but don’t go overboard.”

Doesn’t He know that kind of task sometimes throws me for a loop! I know He has to say the overboard part, because my instinct is to always go overboard for Him. I want to please Him and I want Him to be proud of me. These past few months have been an emotional, stressful hell and I need my mind back on track! So overboard I go when He gives me a specific chore.

So when I read the text this morning, I started to panic:
What does straighten up mean?
Where should I straighten?
The entire house? That would probably be overboard.
In my empty home, out loud, I fussed and I whined.
Why the hell can He not just give me specific chores if He wants something done?!
I was starting to spin off into the endless possibilities…
But then I looked in front of me.

The product test craft was waiting for me on the table.
I was making my way through extra loads of laundry from the kids.
I have the taxes to work on.
A bathroom to clean.
Mondays usually require more house attention.
Plus I’m not feeling great.
Sir knew I was busy!
I am sure He didn’t want to overload me with instructions.
He is a kind man, my Sir.

So today, I have been a free range sub.
I have done things my way, on my schedule.
Craft made. Two, actually. Check.
Laundry complete. Check.
Lunch. Check.
Bathroom clean. Check.
Rugs vacuumed. Check.
Bicycle. On it now.

I wish I hadn’t thrown a little fit to myself when I got the list. I have done a lot, and Sir has guided me through it all, even though it may not seem like it. Today was a good day for me to be free range.

Here’s a little secret, though…
I like the specifics. I like my days tied up with things He’s told me to do. I like the tasks that force me to hustle to get them finished in time. I like checking things off of His list.

But I do appreciate the free range now and again.


some other times…

I like zero tolerance.
I like very little room for error.
I like hard and fast rules.

But other times…
I like a soft place to land.
I like a little space to thrash around.
I like tolerance that is all-encompassing.

I like impact that makes me scream.
I like hair-pulling that makes me cry.
I like words that make me feel less (more) than human.

Other times…
I like the hits a bit lighter, more sensory.
I like soft tickles that send me to sleep.
I like words that comfort and soothe.

I like to handle it all myself.
I like to function in my own way, on my own time.
I like to be a strong girl needing no-one.

Other times…
I like to be taken by the wrist and told exactly what to do.
I like to not have to use my brain at all.
I like to be weak and little and a girl full of need.

I like talking things out.
I like being transparent and open.
I like hiding being out of the question.

Other times…
I like my silence.
I like to stay inside my head.
I like being a bit of a mystery.

I like being His.
I like that He owns me.
I like that this life is Ours.

Other times…
I like being His (even though).
I like that He owns me (despite the chaos I undoubtedly am).
I like that this life is Ours (through thick and thin, because we make it so).