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FFF – 7-20-18

Here we are back to another week of FFF – where does the time go?

Steps – I’ve averaged 6,071 over the last 7 days, so that’s not terrible.  I’ve noticed a pattern of doing really well on the weekends, pretty well on Mondays and Tuesdays and then going downhill over the rest of the week.  I’d like to even that out, but maybe it’s more practical to increase what i’m doing on weekends and early in the week.  Who knows…

My weeks pass in a semi-blur of work, (both jobs) grandkids, the house and pool, Sir, Facebook, sunrise at the beach, and spending time with my daughter or the couple of people i know here.  Not necessarily in that order, but maybe mostly in that order.  Oh, and my classes.  i’m taking off work to go to class 8 hours/day next week – on-line, so everything else will still be here.

I’m grateful that i can take the time off to do it, and a bit sad that it’s not going to be an actual vacation.  The last time off i took was to move.  Also not exactly a vacation.   Although i did take some time to enjoy, so i don’t need to complain.

Weight is in the same range as last week, which is fine.  I’m feeling better about how i look and feel, so even though i want to lose more weight, it’s ok to do it more slowly.  i have my appointment with my new doctor on Wednesday, and plan to talk about goals, both for exercise and such and nutrition.

I’ve been pondering submission, of course, and the submissive heart.   i think that our dynamic – mine and Sir’s – is complicated by his physical issues.  Well, i mean, of course it is in obvious ways.  But also in terms of service.  And then there’s just his own idiosyncrasies.  He is not an easy Dom to serve.

He is a selective eater, and has no interest in me cooking for him.  In the very early stages of our relationship, this was not evident, but since then it’s become very evident.  The most i can do is encourage him to eat what he wants when he feels like it.

He has zero interest in and not much awareness of whether the house is clean or neat or not.   It’s literally just not something he pays attention to.  i’m a bit that way myself – if i’m not careful, we can start looking like hoarders.  I have someone come in to clean every other week, which means we have to straighten up enough for her to clean, and that keeps things from getting out of hand.  Also, the mess begins to bother me and I know i feel better when it’s organized and neater.  Sir does not care.  He is pretty completely unconcerned about whether i’ve done the appropriate chores or not.

I know he has to make an effort to notice when i get my hair cut or my nails done – even though i make the announcement right before i go.  And for sure, I’m 100 times more judgemental about my weight than he is.

You might think that i can serve him by fetching and carrying things, since he has limited mobility and walking and carrying things can be a challenge.  So I can do those kinds of things – get his food at a buffet, carry his coffee to the table, and so on.  But – for both of us, it begins to feel like “care-giving” – as if i’m doing those things because he’s not able to.  Since his goal now is more independence, we’ve agreed that i won’t do those things unless he asks for help.

It’s interesting, isn’t it?  How do i serve him?  What does that look like?

In other news, which is exciting probably only to me, i’ve decided to start participating in some of the TBT fun with posts from my original blog.  I’ve realized that the reasons that led me to distance myself from it are no longer applicable.   This makes me feel more connected with my past and my self from a different life.  Fondles efforts to renew interest in CWS (cock-worshiping subs) is what inspired me.  In fact, i might have to post my old post about that before Thursday.

Anyhow.  Happy FFF to you.  Good times ahead.





My Submissive Heart

This post, by Nora Jean at Living a Loving Life reminded me of an aspect of submission that I hadn’t been thinking about lately.  She said:

“As a result I am trying very hard to approach our new dynamic with what I am calling my ‘submissive heart’, looking for opportunities to demonstrate my submissiveness to and for Frank.”

Those words made me realize that i have not been in touch with my own submissive heart – that it’s at least half-way covered with a self-protective layer of shell.   It seemed to be necessary at one time, and I won’t second-guess myself from here.  Maybe it is still needed.

I’ve gotten a glimpse of it lately – felt it for a moment – that opening/giving/offering part of myself.

I won’t force it.

I might have thought at one time that i needed to figure out how to speed the process, how to push myself into it.  Or, in the time before that, it would have happened totally spontaneously, without thought or caution.  One minute feeling the belt, the next minute feeling all desire to please and serve.

Now, i choose to trust myself. i am glad that NJ reminded me of that feeling – that softened openness – and i’m pretty sure i’ll feel that again.  But today, i chose to honor my own wisdom to know when and how it will happen.

Interesting that when i google “the submissive heart,” it’s all articles about submitting to God that pop up.  But when i shift to images – it’s all BDSM.   Some lovely memes.  (Ok, one was a God meme.  But still…)



A submissive is a strong, independent, talented, capable woman in her own right, yet, she hungers to please and serve her Dominant.

When she finds the right Dominant, the submissive will wear his mark on her heart and soul.  Just as she will forever be a part of His heart and soul – marked in His own way by the submissive He owns.



FFF 7-13-18 (late again, damnit)

Reporting in today – in bad news, I’m still not exercising or walking like i need to.  The days slip by and suddenly it’s evening and i’m looking at 2,500 steps on my fitbit and shrugging, oh, well, tomorrow’s another day…

In good news – i hit a new weight range just since last week. The 158’s showed up on my scale.  We’re looking at 158.2 – 161.  That’s pretty exciting!

In other good news – i got my 3 month lab results back and my glucose level was just under the diagnosis of diabetes! That’s right.  I’m now at high risk for diabetes instead of being about a point and a half over the line into diabetes.

I am particularly pleased about this – on top of just being pleased for its own sake – because it follows on an unpleasant experience at my doctor’s office.  I went in thinking he’d be pleased with my 10 pound weight loss and lower glucose readings, although we didn’t have the A1C (the 3 month test) yet.

Instead, he was super negative and told me different standards for the readings than the nurse practitioner had told me that put my readings in a more negative light.  I had brought in a blood pressure cuff for him to check for accuracy (one that Sir’s cardiologist had said was accurate) and he was dismissive of the cuff before he even checked it.  (“We can check it, but that doesn’t look like the kind that’s going to do what we need it to do.)

When I had first gotten there, the nurse took my blood pressure and it was good.  After about 10 minutes with the doctor, after I was pretty upset, he took it again and it was up.  He was patronizing and condescending about that, and when I said something about it having been lower earlier in the visit, he said that the nurse’s reading had probably not been accurate because I was so overweight, my arm was too thick to get an accurate reading.

Y’all.  Yes, I am obese. But my arm is not the thickest arm around by any means.  If I’m too fat to get an accurate blood pressure reading, I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in that.  And really – if they can’t get an accurate reading, why are they even checking it??

They told me to check my blood pressure with the cuff I had brought in so they could see if it was accurate, and I started to do that.  The nurse took it off the arm I’d put it on and strapped it to the other arm.  Then she held my arm so I couldn’t move it.  This cuff has a light sensor that lets you know when your arm is in the right position to get a reading, and she wouldn’t let me move my arm to adjust it, and when I tried to explain, neither of them acknowledged that I was even talking, she just said to him, “I’m not getting any warm fuzzies about this cuff,” in a real disparaging tone, and I gave up and let her take it off.

The visit went downhill from there, if you can imagine, with more conversation about why my BP might be high and the state of the country.  It ended with him telling me I needed to quit watching the news so much so I wouldn’t be upset about things I couldn’t control.  He did not actually pat me on the head, or tell me not to worry my pretty little head about it, it just felt like he did.  Oh, and he told me maybe I needed therapy for my anger problem.

Let me be clear.  I was angry.  I didn’t yell, I didn’t call him names or cuss at him.  But when I checked my records on-line a few days later?   As I suspected, he had added “Anger Outbursts” to my list of diagnosis.  For the record, having feelings and getting diagnosed with anger outbursts are not the same thing.

I came home from the appointment all upset.  Fortunately, I was able to make an appointment with another doctor and have just been waiting to get the lab results back before I requested they send my records to the new place.   I really do think the doctor I’ve been seeing is a condescending, patronizing jerk who embodies the worst aspects of the patriarchy.

At the same time, I recognize that my reactions to him may be heightened based on some early childhood experiences with being in the hospital.  As it is, just remembering my appointment with him, I can feel my heart rate go up and my chest feels tight and my breathing gets shallow – as if I might be on the verge of a panic attack,    I’m pretty sure that’s too extreme a reaction for just remembering this doctor’s appointment.  I might come back and talk about how I think this links to that early childhood trauma in the hospital, but for now, I just console myself with the knowledge that I’m a grown up and fortunate enough to have good insurance and a bit of money so I don’t have to tolerate this doctor’s attitude any more.

Anyhow.  Thanks for reading this very non-kinky post.  Next time, I’ll tell you about date night and the benefits of a good spanking.  (In case you didn’t already know!)



The Munch and More

The day of the munch, i had to finish shaving, and thank goodness i was able to do that without any problem.  Full disclosure – i used an electric razor.  No, it doesn’t shave as closely, but i also don’t cut myself.  I did read Nora Jean’s post about shaving like a stripper, and seriously considered trying it, but it would have meant an extra trip to the store and… yeah, i just didn’t.  The little hand held electric one did a good enough job.

I debated what to wear – internally, not in any discussion about it.  Sir usually doesn’t have much interest in what i wear.  i contemplated wearing a dress, but the only one i have that’s cool enough for this weather is a little black dress and i thought it might be too dressy.  So i wore my usual black capri leggings and a tunic top that i’d just bought and hadn’t worn before.  I was feeling pretty festive.

We get to the restaurant a bit early, and tell the hostess we’re with a group – she quickly ushers us into a private room.  Only a couple of older women are there – um, older like a couple of years younger than me, probably.  They greet us, and direct us to sign in with our Fet names.  I put olivia and remember later that my fet name includes numbers.  Have to ask Sir if he remembers what they are – and go back to add “60.”

We select seats in the middle of one side of the table.  As others arrive, they sit across from us and at the ends of the table until all of those seats are full.  i feel like i am sitting on a little island of newness.

i suddenly remember how socially awkward i can be – the introvert in me is whispering, “Go home.  Just go home now.”

Eventually, everyone arrives, and some people sit next to us.  No one introduces themselves, it seems that they all know each other.  Sir and i introduce ourselves a couple of times and he shares some vanilla information about us.  One couple talks about the cruise they took, and the huge walk-in closet they’ve converted to a play room.  The Dom in that couple and Sir chat a bit.

i realize the submissives are wearing skirts or dresses.  Dommes or switches in pants.  Ooops.

One young person is a furry – not in a full furry outfit, just ears and a tail.  She giggles with delight and crawls under the table from time to time.  Our server is unfazed by this.  The group members mostly react with fond acceptance,  although i think i catch some tight-lipped tolerance.

Several people have their phones out and are checking FaceBook.  I get mine out too – a gift for the socially inept.  Someone comments, “Lively bunch tonight!” in that hearty tone that suggests this comment will somehow shift the energy.  That doesn’t happen.

They are nice people, and i assure myself it’s not my fault that the evening isn’t more dynamic.   It’s essentially dinner with a bunch a people i don’t know, what did i expect?  i think there are all kinds of undertones of all kinds of things in the room that i can only skim the surface of.  Webs of connection that criss-cross around me in ways that i can’t possibly understand.  i wonder if someday i’ll recognize the subtle messages being sent and received.

The latest arrival sits next to me, so i start a conversation with him.   He’s relatively new to the area, and i totally can’t tell if he knows anyone else or not.  Soon, he and another person are sharing stories about driving for Uber or Lyft, which is alternately amusing and horrifying.

People chat about kinky events, events they’ve been to, events they’d like to go to, play parties in the area.  i’m taking mental notes.

We order food.  We eat.  The fish is not bad.  We do not order dessert.  They have a 50-50 drawing – neither Sir nor i win.  And then it’s time to go.

Home – home where we retreat to our bedroom to act out our own kinky fantasies.  Yes, that includes the mean little mini-paddle.   Nicely warmed up – hand then belt – i am ready for the paddle, or as ready as i can be.

i’m expecting the heaviness of a paddle – the thud. And it’s there, for sure, but there’s a bit of sting too.  i don’t really understand how that works – how can it thud and then sting?  But i don’t have much chance to contemplate, because i’m busy trying to not make too much noise and noticing the feeling as it lands.

Then, just as it is getting to be a whole lot, Sir has me count – just 10 more he says, but count.  When he says “count” he doesn’t want to hear “One, two,” he means, “One, Thank you Sir, Two thank you, Sir,” and so on.  i do like that, even if that last ones are the worst.   i love the way he is upping the ante slowly, adding instruments and tools, but in a strategic way, starting with the things he knows i love

When we were finished with my spanking, we satisfied other needs, and that was lovely.

As for the munch, we survived.  We got our feet wet.  It wasn’t bad.  Sorry it wasn’t more exciting, but it is what it is.  Maybe we’ll go back, maybe we’ll try a different one, whatever, it will all be ok.

And Sir is watching for an opportunity to play when no one else is home.  i’m  not sure what he has in mind, but i imagine it will involve lots of noise – from me.  i’m excited, and just a bit nervous.  We’ll see…

FFF – 7-6-18

Happy FFF to you!  Yes, I broke the “60” barrier – I’ve made it into the 159’s!!  New range of weights is 159.6-161.2.  We’ve been doing this – FFF – for 23 weeks and I don’t remember for sure where I was when I started out, but I’ve lost about 12 pounds.   Averaging about 2 pounds/month, which is not a bad rate.

In exercise/step news, I gave up on finding my old Fitbit and bought a new one, so of course I found the old one the next day.  The new one does a more thorough break-down of sleep cycles, which I like.  After all, if I know I only got 30 minutes of deep sleep, I’m not surprised that I”m sleepy, right?  So I can only report on 5 days, and have really lost ground in this area.  22,000 steps in those 5 days, about 4,500/day.   I need to do better this week.

I’m thinking about doing a personalized physical fitness program with a coach.  We’ve joined the YMCA, and they offer a 6 week program free.  I’ve never done anything like this before, which in itself is probably a good reason to do it.  I’m going up to get the application today – we’ll see if i can follow through on it.

Organizing my house – really, everything is in decent shape except my office.  Oh, and the garage, but that’s going to take a lot more than me to manage.

In other news, Sir went shopping for shorts at one of those big Hunting, Fishing, Everything Outdoors stores.  He texted me this picture:

IMG_1377 2

I said, “Yikes!” because what else can one say when looking at a serious frigging paddle, knowing that it could be used on one’s delicate butt?   Ok, it’s a mini-paddle, but still.

He replied, “LOL Yikes is right, I bought one, it’s Perfect !” which may not have been exactly what i wanted to hear.  i would have been fine with a less enthusiastic response.  🙂  I am pretty sure that i’m going to find out just how yikes-y it is tonight.

Because – yes – tonight is date night, and we’re going to a munch!! i’m pretty excited, and a bit nervous, but not too much.  The restaurant is an inexpensive chain restaurant, which doesn’t thrill me, but that’s ok.  You may not know this about me, but i am a bit of a food snob.  I prefer non-chain restaurants that offer eclectic combinations of food in original recipes made with fresh, local ingredients.  Ok, i can’t always get that, but local is better than chain and… anyhow, yes, i have a whole hierarchy of what’s good.  When we go out to eat, i usually pick the restaurant.

Sir, on the other hand, is a McDonald’s and Waffle House kind of man.  Seriously.   Fortunately, he’ll eat a burger just about anywhere, and most places have some kind of a burger.  ‘That won’t be a concern tonight.  I’ll be the one scanning the menu for that one thing that isn’t fried or over 1,000 calories and 90% carbs.  In fairness, i’ve already found it – they have a grilled fish that looks decent.  So that’s not a problem.  {Whew, i know you were worried about it for me too…}

Anyhow, all of that is to say that i should have plenty to talk about when i come back.  Stay tuned…

Sir Sets Some Rules

Sir bought a kink book and shared it with me -we’ve started using the family plan for our kindle.  That was a nice way to keep us connected.   It’s not a dreadfully literary book – so far, it’s mostly a list of the rules the Dom has for his sub.  Which is actually pretty hot, as those things tend to be.

Sir warned me already- I may have mentioned this – that i was going to have rules, but that he wanted to think about what rules he wanted and would be prepared to enforce.  Some time went by.

He told me that he was not going to punish me for breaking these as-yet-unspecificed-rules with spankings (since, you know, i do like that.)  He said that he might do what the Dom in this book we read does, which is to punish his sub by plucking out a number of single pubic hairs, an idea that makes me wince.

Yesterday, he gave me the rules.  He is starting with three rules.

Rule One:   He’s to be addressed as “Sir” when we are in the bedroom

Rule Two:  My pussy is to be shaved completely and must be kept clean shaven at all times.  Completely, like in no-landing-strip, no nothing.

Rule Three:  When we’re together and engaging in sexual activity, i’m to ask permission before i orgasm.  He says he doesn’t plan to practice orgasm restriction at this time, but may do so in the future.  He says permission is not necessary to orgasm if i’m playing with myself alone, at least not at this time.

Since the shaving requirement removes all the hair, he mentioned that’s not going to be how he punishes me – that hair pulling thing.  So that’s still open.  Um, waiting for his decision, not open to discussion.

He says there may be more rules in the future, but wants to see how it goes with these first.   Of course, i have every intention of following each rule completely, so it should be fine.  But i got a taste of the possible future when we were alone in his vehicle today.

Sir had stopped at a stop sign, and (it seemed to me) was sticking way too far out into the intersection.  He does this all the time sometimes and it kind of drives me crazy bothers me a little bit.   I almost always bite my tongue and don’t say anything, but every once in a while, i have to i feel compelled to i choose to comment.  Today, i just said, “I don’t know why you got to stop all the way out in the street like this.”

He said, “What?”

I said, maybe less confrontational-ly, “I mean, just, like, it seems like the nose of the van is kind of far out in the street.  You know.  You do that all the time.”

He said, “Well.  Hmmm.  You think I’m too far out in the street.  Well, I guess I’ll have to apologize to those other Doms.”

Me (sensing that I had perhaps mis-stepped) “Apologize to what other Doms?”

So he’s part of some Dom-peer group thing.  I knew that.  But apparently they had been talking about back seat driving being a problem for some of them.  And, um, apparently he had said that wasn’t a problem in his household.  But now he was thinking maybe he needed to re-think that.


{Whispers}  Do not tell him i said this.  He drives real slow.  He’s real careful to keep a safe stopping distance between his vehicle and other vehicles – which means even more slow driving.  He waits to change lanes until the very last minute, even when he already knows he has to be in the other lane.  And he stops with his van sticking out in the cross-street at red lights or stop signs sometimes.  And i almost never say a word.

But yes, ok, so i felt guilty when he told me that, about apologizing to the other Doms, and ok, i’m not going to say anything about his driving anymore.  Unless we’re about to get hit, in which case i reserve the right to gasp or say “look out!” as  needed.

Anyhow.  That’s the news from here.  Now i have to manage to shave to specifications and all will be well.

We’re having a lovely day off work for the Fourth – i went to the beach this a.m. – missed the sunrise, but also missed most of the rain.

The rest of the day has been a bit non-traditional, but very nice.  Hope you’re having a good one, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing…




FFF 6-29 (on 6-30)

Because late is SOP these days… (Do people still use SOP for Standard Operating Procedure?)

Anyhow, reporting in, I don’t have a step count this week.  I broke the band on my Fitbit, ordered a new one, but got the wrong kind.  So I was going to go to Target to get the right one, but now I can’t find the Fitbit. Anywhere.  I took it out of the place I’d stashed it in my purse when the new bands came in – and now it’s gone.  This is the story of my life these days.

I need to start petitioning St Anthony on a regular basis – he always comes through for me.  But I feel a bit guilty about doing that since I’m not Catholic anymore. Talk about cherry-picking…can I ditch the pope and the priestly hierarchy and keep St. Anthony?

In other non-news, my weight is in the same range.  160.2 – 162.8.  Shrug, I can live with that for now.  I need to be careful though.  With the state of the country being one terrible thing after another, the urge to binge eat is strong.  I’ve overindulged a couple of times, and just need to stop it.  But the world is crashing and burning around me and the heaviness of sadness and grief at the injustices around me and the suffering of people feel almost unbearable sometimes.

So of course I’ve increased my self-care, right?  BWHAHAHAHA – no.  Not one little bit.

But tonight is date night, so yay for that, and next week, we might go to a munch.  Seriously.  Good times ahead!