Easy way…

“Come to me,” he ordered.

She shook her head, gearing for a fight. “I’ve got too much to do.”

He said nothing, simply raised an eyebrow and tossed a throw pillow on the ground at his feet.

Shit! She looked at the floor that was in desperate need of a broom and a mop. The dinner dishes were still soaking and she was damn tired. Screw it, she turned her back on him and began to sweep the floor.

He chuckled. “Oh, we’re going to do this the hard way? I see.”

Her stomach clenched and she readied for the inevitable swat on the ass. Fine. Whatever. She had shit to do and wasn’t in the mood for romance.

He ripped the broom from her hand and tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“Hey, put me down. This isn’t funny.” She beat on his back.

He gave her five resounding swats on her ass. “No, it isn’t funny. You disobeyed a direct order. We aren’t having that.”

Tears sprang to her eyes as her ass lit on fire. He wasn’t playing around. If she hadn’t been so up in her own head, she would have gauged his mood better. Work and the daily grind had her so stressed out she couldn’t even sleep these days.

“I’m sorry, Master. I just have too much to do to scene right now,” she managed to spit out in a placating tone.

“I had intended to ask you how I could help, but you didn’t want the easy way. Your defiance showed me that.” He tossed her, belly first, onto the bed then held her in place with one hand while he reached into the toy cabinet for a bundle of rope.

His manhandling had the usual effect, but at the moment the wetness between her legs only pissed her off. He knew exactly how to send her body zinging, but her mind was on overload. The stress she’d endured the last few weeks had her emotional walls built tall and strong.

While he was distracted by his search, she brought her knees up to scramble off the bed. In one smooth motion, he flattened her to the mattress and climbed up beside her. He grabbed her hands and slid his body over her thighs. In no time, he had her hands tied.

“Now behave or I’ll hog tie you.”

With a sigh, she lay still knowing she couldn’t possibly escape with him laying on her. She was only grateful he’d tied her hands above her instead of behind her back.

“Clearly, you need a heavy hand tonight.” He pulled a paddle from the shelf and without any preamble he began to strike her already red ass cheeks. “You need a lesson in enemy recognition.” His melodic voice was calm as he delivered blow after blow to her sore butt.

“We’re a team, you and I. Us against the world. You will not block me out. I’m here to help you whether it’s with chores or to let off some steam.”

Her ass fucking hurt and the tears started to flow. She cried as if her tear damn had burst and there was no way to stop it. The iceberg that she seemed to live in these days began to melt away. Days of frustration were washed away along with her emotional barriers.

Why had she taken it out on him? He wasn’t the problem.

“We’re stronger together sweetheart. I understand why you need your walls up at work. You’re in a rough spot right now. But here, between the two of us, there will be no walls. “Do you understand me?”

She sniffled and wiped her tears on the bed sheets. “Yes, Master.”

“Good.” He slid the paddle back into the toy cabinet. He took her by the arm and helped her stand. “Stay here,” he ordered.

She obeyed, without a single thought of defiance.

He returned with a wet washrag. He washed her face and kissed her forehead. “Take your spot and kneel toward the kitchen.”

In the great room, she took her place on the pillow he’d tossed on the floor. Instead of facing his chair, as usual, she turned slightly so she could see all the things that only moments ago had seemed so terribly important.

“Good girl,” he praised her as he walked into the kitchen and retrieved the broom. “You’re going to stay there and watch.”

Her stomach dropped. Her Master never swept. It wasn’t that he was lazy or anything. He simply did other things, things she couldn’t do or hated to do.

“You don’t need to sweep. I can do that later.” At the moment, she didn’t care if the floor ever got cleaned. The heat from her ass had migrated to her pussy and she needed attention.

“I’m capable of helping with the cleaning, my angel.” He ignored her protests and continued to sweep.

Tears began to flow again. “I know.”

He bent down and scooped the pile into the dust pan and threw it away. “If you need help, ask.”

She bowed her head. She’d never doubted that he’d help, she just hadn’t considered asking him. “Yes, Master.”

He walked to the couch and spun her around to face him. Her eyes grew wide when she noticed he still had the broom. This wasn’t going to bode well for her.

Her Master took the broom in both hands and broke it over his knee. He tossed the bristle end toward the garage and slid the remaining portion between the crook of her arms. The position forced her to arch her back and thrust her breasts forward.

His casual display of strength set her heart pounding.

“What else do you need to do tonight?” he asked, running his finger along her jaw.

“Serve my Master.”

He smiled down at her. “Good answer, my angel, but you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t want to think about chores right now,” she complained.

“And that is the best answer.” He kissed her soundly. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. “Stand up. We’re headed to the playroom.”

Terrible, yet wonderful, things happened in his private dungeon. Her legs felt shaky as he led her down the hallway. As soon as she entered the room she knew he had a plan. Ropes dangled from a pulley attached to the ceiling. He placed her underneath them. “Kneel here.”

He took a set of cuffs from the closet and attached them to her ankles. The familiar warmth did little to calm her runaway heart. She heard the turn of the pulley and felt tugging along the broom handle and at her feet. Oh God!

“Now I know you won’t be going anywhere.” He caressed the curve of her breast. “I do love what this position does to your tits. I believe some jewelry is in order.”

She hoped he chose a pair of nooses. Of the choices they owned, they were definitely the most comfortable. As soon as she heard the jangle of chains, she knew she was screwed.

“Since you want the hard way tonight, we’ll go with clover clamps.” He bent down and rolled her nipples. He pulled and tugged until she moaned. Her eyes closed and she willed herself to relax as he set the clamps. The bite of the clover edge dug into her tender flesh and she took several deep breaths as her body adjusted to the discomfort.

He went to the closet, grabbed the Hitachi stand and placed it between her legs. “This isn’t what I had envisioned for tonight, but I’m willing to adapt to your needs, my angel. We’re going to play a little game.”

Considering her position and the toys he’d brought out, she knew the game was likely to entail forced orgasms. While one orgasm was great and even two was good, more than that and it turned into it’s own form of torture. She began to wish she hadn’t ignored his first command.

“Am I going to like this game, Master?” she asked, cautiously.

“Probably not.” He chuckled. “You’re going to suck me off while the Hitachi sits on your clit. Each time you come, I’m going to tighten the clamps so keep that in mind.”

She knew better than to argue. He wouldn’t change his mind and he’d likely make it even harder on her.

He pulled his shirt over his head then toed off his shoes, removed his socks and dropped his pants. “Are you comfortable, my love?”

She chuckled. “No.”

“I’m so glad.”

She groaned. His casual acceptance of his sadistic streak hit her straight in the pussy.  He was going to kill her. She was already primed and in desperate need of release, but knowing he planned to tighten the clamps added a layer of anxiety – which, honestly, fueled her desire even further.

He fisted her hair and directed her mouth to his cock as he used the foot peddle to activate the vibrator. Each time he pulled her forward the chain between the clamps swung sending fire directly to her clit.

Devil device. That was her nickname for the damn Hitachi. It was surely created by Satan himself. She focused on her Master’s cock, determined to drive him to distraction as fast as humanly possible. But try as she might to keep her mind off her own spiraling need, her body refused to shut it out.

Seconds turned to minutes and her muscles tensed as the explosion grew imminent. The ropes and pulley were the only thing keeping her from losing her balance as the orgasm hit her like a tidal wave.

Her release was heavenly, but as the haze of bliss began to clear, the vibration on her clit was way too strong. She tried to wiggle away, yet it was impossible. Her range of movement was confined by the broken broom handle and ropes.

“Focus, angel,” he said, sternly. “I want your sensitive clit to be tortured. Feel how hard I am? That’s all you, baby girl. Knowing you’ll be especially tender tomorrow feeds my desire.”

Damn him. He knew exactly what to say to send her back into the zone.

“It’s building again, isn’t it?” He chuckled, arrogantly. “Looks like it’s time to tighten these clamps.”

She’d had a fleeting hope that he’d forget. She should have known better. When it came to scening with her, he never forgot a single thing.

She heard the foot peddle click ratcheting the vibrator to the next level as he turned the dial on first one clamp and then the other. The excruciating bite took her breath away and took her that much closer to her next orgasm. No way. She was going to make him come first.

Swirling her tongue around the head of his cock and sucking hard she elicited a moan from him and her ego soared. She loved stealing a bit of his control. Knowing that she could bring him such pleasure was a point of pride for her. He certainly knew exactly what she needed.

“Oh, you little minx. I see you enjoy testing my staying power.” He sounded like he was speaking between clenched jaws.

Even as hope rose, so did her excitement. Her back muscles were straining which served to remind her she was bound. Her ass had turned into a powerful heat that fed her ever growing need. Her nipples throbbed in time to the rhythm he set and her clit was on a collision course with disaster. She wanted to come, but she knew how intense the sensations would become afterward and since she couldn’t avoid them a feeling of dread formed somewhere near her G spot.

She was going to lose the battle. She was already so close there was no way to avoid it. A trickle of fear skirted down her spine. Oh, God, he’ll tighten the clamps even further. She glanced down and saw her normally pink nipples a dark red and fully engorged. The sight forced her into another orgasm. She screamed around his cock and tried to rock her hips only to find her movements were no longer her own. She was completely at his mercy. Her waning release was suddenly kicked back into high gear as another orgasm tore through her.

From somewhere far away, she heard her Master groan and a sense of satisfaction settled over her as jets of cum shot into her mouth. She gagged slightly as she struggled to swallow his gift.

As awareness began to push through the clouds, she realized he’d kicked the Hitachi away from her pussy and pulled the broom handle from the crook of her arms. The only thing holding her up was the taut ropes at her wrists and ankles.

“I think I’m going to keep your hands restrained while I remove the clamps, my sweet angel. I wouldn’t want you to take my head off.”

The bastard was laughing at her situation proving once again he had a sadistic streak a mile wide.

He removed the first one and blood came rushing back into the tortured peak sending tears to her eyes.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He chuckled. “Settle down, angel. You know that potty mouth of yours gets me hard. You can’t take another session right now.” He massaged her aching nipple as removed the remaining clamp. Before she could let go with another string of obscenities, he settled his mouth over the battered peak and eased the discomfort to a manageable level. In no time at all he had her untied and cradled in his arms.

“You never cease to amaze me, baby girl,” he told her as he carried her back to their bed.

She was so exhausted she was asleep by the time her head hit the pillow.

As the alarm blared, she noticed the sunshine filling the room. She glanced at the clock and realized she’d slept through the night for the first time in weeks. She gave her Master a kiss on the cheek. Damn, she loved that man.

She walked into the kitchen to make coffee and was stunned to find the dishes washed and put away. She flicked the coffee pot on and headed back to the bedroom. Though she knew it was too much to hope for, she cracked open the door to the laundry and took a quick look inside. Tears sprang to her eyes as she saw the bins empty. He’d stay up and taken care of all of her chores.

She ran to the bedroom and jumped onto the bed. She climbed on top of him and showered him with kisses. “What did I do to deserve you, Master? You’re the most wonderful man in the world.”

“Me? I thought I was a mean, old Dom who took sadistic pleasure in torturing his subbie.”

She loved hearing his arrogant amusement in the tone of voice. “Well, yeah,” she teased, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

Other Foot

I just got back from a week long adventure in the wilds of Montana. I was sent there for my day job. Normally, if I’m sent to an offsite location it’s within my home state and I’m sleeping in my own bed that night. Now my husband is sent all over the country a couple times a year. This is the first time the shoe was on the other foot.

My trip was with 35 strangers. We were a mix of males and females ranging in age from college students to grandparents. Half of us, me included, were completely out of our comfort zone. I’m good in the woods or the desert, but I’m not good surrounded with strangers. It’s exhausting to be with strangers that I have to interact with for 14 or 15 hours a day without a break. I had no down time. No time to recharge my batteries.

In addition to my husband being my source of unconditional love and security, he’s also a buffer between me and people. I’m not a gregarious sort. I live in my head. I create mini worlds and I control how they interact. I control the plot, the dialogue and the ending. The real world is all together different. And generally – I’m not a fan.

To me, ‘the public’ is an energy vampire. Being in close confines with others just sucks the life out of me. I was prepared for inclement weather, the back country, long hours and rough conditions. I was not prepared for the toll of being around strangers for a week solid with sleep being my only away time. I came home utterly fried emotionally and physically.

My Love, on the other hand, experienced what it’s like to go about your normal routine with the other half of your soul missing. He’d come home and heat up a meal I’d prepared ahead of time, but he’d eat it alone. He had no one to share his day with. No one to share the chores. Yet, everywhere he looked he was reminded of me and something we created together. He said, if something ever happened to me the house would be on the market in a heartbeat. The memories would eat him alive.

At the end of the week, we both decided we’re no good alone. We’re halves of one whole. I think that’s the way it’s meant to be. We’ve spent everyday of 38 years together except for the occasional solo work trip. Our lives are completely intertwined and that’s the way we like it.

Montana

Whirlwind

Man, the last 30 days have been a whirlwind of chaos and stress. Yet, I feel blessed to say it has made my Love and I even closer.

The first disaster to strike was our air conditioner died. And I mean completed died. There was no reviving it. We went a week without it. Since we have large pets moving into a hotel was out of the question. Although our kids offered to let us stay with them, we decided to tough it out and not impose.

We live in the desert in Arizona and it was August. It’s our monsoon season. If you’ve never experienced Arizona in the summertime, I’m not sure you can appreciate exactly what it feels like here. When they tout it being a dry heat – they are talking about June and early July. In August, we have high temps and humidity. If you go from air conditioned cars to air conditioned buildings, it’s doable. I wouldn’t recommend living by fans alone in 110 degree heat though.

In truth, we were together and we came through it with a new appreciation for each other although our cuddle time took it in the shorts. 🙂

Fast forward to Labor Day – the perfect day for our well to die right? No one open. No one willing to drive out to the middle of no-where to even look at. My Love worked his magic and got it working (somewhat) so we were able to limp by until morning. Now if you read my blog, you’ll know why way of coping is to clean (among other things). Kinky sex with my Love, clean the house from top to bottom, rock out and dance to loud music, read something deliciously dirty and write – to be exact. But, I got off track. My point was it’s very difficult to clean when you can’t turn on the faucet.

During the week, we spoke to many well drillers and heard a different version of what they thought caused the problem and how to make the repair. Toss in stress of our daughter preparing for a 2+ week trip to Europe, a job interview for me and an eight week old pup and the stress level hit critical mass.

Which takes takes us back to coping strategies. Kinky sex is often dirty – no water for aftercare. Cleaning generally requires water too. Sure you can vacuum, but no dish washing, no laundry, no mopping, etc. Music and reading tried their best, but it was a rough job.

Today, I’m happy to say, our well solution was implemented. Everything looks good so far. It only cost the gross national product of a third world country to get water flowing through the faucets once more. My Love, with some help from our son, effected the repair.

He was truly amazing. He did tons of research and learned all about our current system and what else was available. As always, he took charge and made the decisions – with some input from me. I’m very proud of him. He was up at sunrise and worked his butt off most of the day. The sun was brutal and there’s no shade. Temperatures reached over a hundred degrees, yet he worked tirelessly until the repairs were completed and water once again flowed up to the house.

After the sun went down, we took a dip in the spa to help relax his aching muscles. Sitting there together, watching the sun go down, he leaned over and kissed me. Then said, “thank you. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” I wasn’t working the shovel, or manhandling the tanks, or repairing the plumbing, or risking my life with the 220 electric that runs the pump, but here he was thanking me for supporting him. Silly man, I live for him – how could I not support him? He’s the best!beautiful

 

 

Birthday approaching

My birthday is fast approaching and my Love has asked me what I’d like as a gift. Frankly, I have no idea. He’s generous to a fault. If I ask for something, he moves heaven and earth to give it to me. I’ve learned over the years to be careful what I express an interest for.

When I struggled to give him a suggestion, he changed his question, “What would you like to do for your birthday?” Again, I have no idea. Of course, we’ll spend the day with the kids, but how? Last year, we played laser tag, shopped and ate lunch at our favorite restaurant. Unfortunately,  I had a serious reaction to the food and spent the rest of the day quite ill.

I don’t want to risk going through that again. During the past year, I had an injury to my arm and laser tag is out. Shopping was quite fun, though. The kids were silly  and we picked out the worst outfits we could find and had each other try them on. Oh, how we laughed. We had such fun, I hate to try and recreate it knowing it would surely fall flat against the memory.

Which leaves me back at square one.

At least I know how the evening will end – kinky fuckery at its finest. My Love will no doubt think of something delightfully torturous and I’m really looking forward to every minute of it.

Celebrity Hallpass

aka – hey, babe, you’re good enough for everyday use, but if I have the opportunity to experience that – I’m outta here.

Is that the message I want to send to my spouse? Absolutely not. I love and adore him. I would never want to undermine his self-confidence in that way.

I had this discussion the other day with my brother. He told me to ‘lighten up, Francis’ it’s a joke.

Well, no it’s not. Was his intention to subconsciously tell his wife she’s a place holder until something better comes along? No. He loves his wife very much. I don’t think he would do anything that he thought would hurt her.

This is the same brother that goes to strip clubs fairly often with ‘the boys’. Another topic we argue about. He tells me I need to grow up. Bawhahahahaha. If only he knew! I tell him he’s showing his wife that she doesn’t do it for him anymore and that if he wants to see something hot he has to go pay for it.

He laughs and tells me, ‘I’m a prude’. Silly boy. When My Love and I are at ‘our’ club we see so much more than what’s allowed to take place in a strip club. The difference is My Love and I don’t go there alone to view the opposite sex. We go there together to have a sexual experience using equipment that we can’t disguise as something else.

We go there for fellowship – although he could argue the same thing. He is there with ‘his boys’ catching up and shooting the shit. How they can do that considering the music volume is another question I’ll never have answered.

He sees a hallpass or his strip club visits as harmless. I see them as detrimental. His wife has had a tummy tuck, liposuction and a boob job. Are the two related? I think so. My brother would surely argue they aren’t. I’m not walking in their shoes. I’m only an outsider looking in, but the two seem connected from my view.

Thoughts?

Looking for something to read?

After a long fight with my publisher, my rights have been restored and the author’s edition of All Grown Up is now available!
Can lightning strike twice? Steven isn’t sure he wants it to. When Belle left him, his life crumbled to pieces. He’d lost his job, his place and worst yet his confidence. That’s something no Dom could afford to lose. After he’d exhausted his resources and still couldn’t find her, he’d moved on.

Now, Belle’s back and she’d come searching for him. Steven wonders if her plan is to ruin him for good.

Cover by Katz Concepts

Check out his website at katz-concepts.com or shoot him an email at ryan@katz-concepts.com

IMG-20180602-WA0000

Friends…

I’ve been pondering a few things this week. Dangerous, I know.

At what point does a person move from an acquaintance to a friend? I’m on several BDSM boards and there are often posts about ‘coming out’ with friends and family. My question is – if you are in the lifestyle, if it’s a way of life for you, not some kinky fun you enjoy in the bedroom – and your friends don’t know – are they really your friends?

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think ‘friends’ need to know what goes on behind closed doors, but if they know nothing about a major component of your personality/life, I wonder if they count as friends. For me, the answer is no they’re not. They are someone I chat with on a superficial level.

A friend is someone I can trust. Someone who has my back and I have theirs. Someone that shares my same values. We don’t have to agree on politics or brand loyalties, but underneath all the fluff, we need to be in sync. I don’t share that with many people.

The biggie for me is respect. If you run down your significant other, we’ll never be friends. This is the person you’re supposed to love above all others. As soon as I hear a phrase such as – ‘you won’t believe what my stupid ________ (bf, gf, wife, husband), did now’, I’m out. People think they’re being funny. They’ll tell you, if you call them on it, they don’t mean it like that… Geez, what’s your problem?

My problem is, it’s hurtful. You’re diminishing how other’s look at your loved one in order to gain something – attention, sympathy, laughs…

Of course there with be times when something happens and you’re confused or hurt by your SO’s actions. But shouldn’t the conversation at least start between the two of you? Your lunch buddies won’t be able to tell you why your (bf, gf, wife, husband) overdrew your checking account or has a questionable picture on their phone. So sharing your laundry with them only serves a negative purpose.

This one person I’ve known for more than half my life thought it was perfectly fine to eat lunch daily with coworker they were attracted to. They had no intentions of taking it beyond a coworker/friend relationship so what could possibly go wrong? I’m sure you can see where this is going. A hell of a lot went wrong. Bashing their respective spouses  turned into a frequent occurrence. Instead of talking to their loved one about an issue, they’d let it fester. They’d chat with their coworker and garner sympathy.  The coworker, who only heard one side of the issues, naturally sided with their ‘friend’ and would converse accordingly. “Why do you put up with that? They shouldn’t treat you that way!”

Then my long time buddy made the fatal mistake. In an argument, they told their spouse what the coworker had said about them. The spouse knew immediately that the coworker had been privy to all their dirty laundry. The spouse felt betrayed (in my opinion – rightfully so). The marriage dissolved.

You may be wondering how we went from telling the difference between a friend and an acquaintance to divorce, but in my warped mind they connect. The road linking them is called trust. The difference between a friend and an acquaintance is the level of trust you have for that person.

The person you give your heart to, should be the person you trust more than anyone else. Period, end of sentence. If something isn’t right between you two, trust them to care enough to listen and to make changes. Trust them to have your back and give them that in return.

See it was a twisty, dirt road, but it did eventually get to the point.

dirt road

I’ve Got Your Back

Today, I’m very pleased to have a very special guest blogger visit. I’m under the gun, so to speak. My deadline for Against the Tide has come and gone and I’m still working on it. To help me out, my Love decided to pitch in and write this week’s post himself.

Alpha Wolf

Tori and I met when we were in high school. We fell in love, married shortly after graduation and as I’ve said many times, it was the smartest choice I ever made. I attribute the success of our marriage to many factors, but there is one trait Tori has always shown that I consider a cornerstone. I have always felt like I had her complete support. No matter how crazy my plan was or how intimidating the circumstance I was facing, I knew she was there for me.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come to her with an idea or plan that I wasn’t even really sure of myself only to end up having her talk me into trying out my own idea. Some were a great success, others not as much, but regardless the outcome, she was my cheering section. Not my critic. Please don’t misunderstand, when I do something extra stupid and that happens more often than I’d like to mention, she calls me on it, but it’s constructive, not judgmental. Simply put, she has my back. But it goes much further than that.

I am a complete gearhead. Always have been. From bicycles as a kid to cars as a teenager and as an adult, I’m always tinkering with some machine or other. But unlike other married couples I know, when I go to the junkyard my wife comes too. And not just to sit in the car. We work together. She gets dirty right along with me. It means a lot to me. I know tearing the interior out of a ‘72 Javelin or the disc brakes from a Chevelle isn’t something she always wanted to do, but I appreciate her help and her company. And some of our adventures have made for great memories. Like the time she pretended the hood we were carrying back to the car had broken her little finger. I was terrified. Till she showed how she could bend it backwards and said “just kidding.” I still spank her ass for that one.

On many occasions, especially early on, I had to make repairs to our cars I’d never done before. Armed with only the service manual and hopefully the right tools, I would tear into the job, all the while hearing her say, “You can do this, honey. You can do anything you set your mind to. I believe in you.”

I’m not the stop and ask for directions type. Big surprise, right? I’ve always been a sort of alpha lone wolf. It’s just how I’m wired. And I know I can be hard to live with when I go all stubborn and refuse to change my mind.  I can say with absolute certainty though, I am a better, smarter, stronger and even kinder man because of Tori’s love and support for me. The alpha male wolf would be completely lost without his alpha female. I love you, Angel. You are THE best.

chicken smoothie

Ever changing

I was always told that as you and your partner grow older the marriage becomes more of a comfortable partnership. I will agree that the relationship is ever changing. Our marriage today looks nothing like it did as newlyweds.

As the years have gone by, we’ve learned how to speak to each other. I’ve learned that I don’t have to be right every damn time and that saying “I’m sorry” or “I was wrong” won’t cause the earth to stop rotating.

When our kids were babies, the pediatrician told us, “pick your battles.” He was talking about raising our children, but it applied just as much – if not more – to our marriage.

In our twenties, if we didn’t agree on something it would have been a knock down, drag out, fight. Not so much anymore. We recently bought a new dining room table. My husband saw it and fell in love. I had some reservations. I didn’t like the legs, but I could tell, he loved it. Really loved it. Clearly, we needed to buy it.

Twenty years ago, it would have been a jointly made decision. Because he loved it so much, I would have agreed, but I would have let my dislike of the legs fester. I would have sent little digs whenever I could fit them in.

Somewhere along the line, I realized those weren’t helping anything. They were building a wall between us, a dividing line that kept us on opposing sides. And for what? It wasn’t cute or funny. It didn’t make him happy to have a wife who suffered so he could get what he wanted.  It simply took all of his joy and replaced it with rancor.

So how do we handle it these days? For starters, he doesn’t need my ‘permission’ to buy anything. Decisions of that sort are his to make, but he does ask my opinion. Another change that has occurred over the years is I know he’ll take my opinion to heart. So, I told him straight up – I’m not crazy about the legs. Turns out he wasn’t either. What he loved was the table top. We were able to design a base together and now we have a one of a kind table we both love.

I’m so much happier with the way things are now. Have we moved into the ‘comfortable partnership’ phase? Yes, and no. Yes, I do think we’re much more comfortable expressing our opinions. I feel valued. I feel like he listens. But NO, the sex hasn’t evaporated. Just the opposite. It hasn’t  stayed the same either. We’ve learned so much about each other’s needs and desires. We’ve learned it’s okay to take a risk and talk about things openly. It’s how we managed to take our relationship into Dominance and submission. We let the walls down. Slowly. Baby steps at first. It took time to take our trust to a different level.

There were a lot of kinks to work out. I went through a phase where I thought being submissive meant just saying yes to everything he said or asked for. Turned out it wasn’t what he wanted at all. He wants a partner, not a dishrag. He values my happiness as highly as I value his. He can’t ensure my happiness if I’m not honest with him.

While I love where we’re at, I know our relationship is ever changing. Looking to the future, I just don’t know how it could get better. As a newlywed, I never dreamed we’d be here, this happy after 32 years. On some level, that’s a little scary, but I’ll do what I always do – put my faith in my guy. I know he’ll lead us through the years to a happiness I can’t even imagine yet.

What do we need to do?

Those few words reduced me to tears yesterday and reminded me that I’m married to the most wonderful man in the entire world.

We moved into our ‘dream home’ about 13 years ago.We bought a custom spec home right on the outskirts of the Tonto National Forest. It was perfect except for two things. The master bathroom and the kitchen cabinets. The house has a rustic feel so the knotty alder cabinets fit the motif. I hated them when we moved in, but we chose to focus on more important things. Over the years, the finish has taken on an orange tint making an ugly set of cabinets far worse.

While I was working full time and taking care of the kids, they annoyed me. Now that the kids are gone and I’m working primarily from home, I have no distractions. I stare at the cabinets day after day and the resentment grows. Finally, I’d hit a breaking point.

Now I fully admit I have worst timing known to mankind. My husband was knee deep in another huge project. His was time sensitive. Mine had already waited 13 years…It wasn’t going anywhere.

I went to him anyway and explained my plan. Like I child asking for a pet – I assured him I’d do 90 percent of the work. With an indulgent look on his exhausted face, he agreed. He set me up with wood putty and sanding blocks and away I went.

My genius idea 😉 was to fill in the hideous knot holes and paint the cabinets dark grey, the walls a light grey, update the lighting, and get stainless steel handles. It would tie in perfectly with the grey, silver and black counters. We’d have a modern, chic kitchen for a reasonably low price and not a ton of work.

Sounded great to me. I went on the internet and found the hardware. Went to every home improvement store in the area and searched lighting and paints. I found what I believed to be the perfect combination.

My Love spent a weekend and six gallons of paint transforming our great room. The color managed to suck every last drop of warmth right out of the room. My son, who loves everything grey, wasn’t even a fan. The windows toss weird shadows all around the room as the sun moves across the sky. It was a big mistake.

We gave it a few days hoping it would grow on us. My Love worked long grueling hours on the other project, while I filled the knot holes and sanded the area smooth.

By father’s day, we’d had enough. With another round of paint in hand, he climbed the ladder again and began the arduous task of eliminating the grey.  By the end of the day, we both breathed a sigh of relief that it was gone.

We discussed the problem of the cabinets. Now that the walls were a soft cream and beige color, dark grey wouldn’t have the same effect. Not to mention, we had a bad taste in our mouths over the grey walls.

Even though we’d spent a nice chunk of change on paint that was custom mixed and therefore not returnable, we decided a deep chocolate was a better way to go. Back to paint store…

Now, enough time has gone by that he’s finished his project and being the sweetheart that he is, he agreed to put his next one on hold to help me with mine. You know…the one I was going to tackle all by myself. 😉

He spent his Sunday morning removing all the doors and sanding the crown molding that I couldn’t reach without risking life and limb.

Finally, the time had come. Bye bye orange, bye bye knot holes.

He applies the luscious paint to one long section. And you guessed it. I HATE it. Absolutely, unequivocally hate it.

I’ve destroyed the finish on the doors. He’s spent hours and hours prepping the wood and removing the doors and drawers. Tons of money on wasted paint. And I hate it.

As he starts to move onto another section I stop him. “Honey, you need to stand back and look at it. I don’t think it works with the counters. It’s not at all what I envisioned.”

My wonderful husband didn’t yell. He didn’t act or even look frustrated. He simply stood up and asked, “What do we need to do?” That’s it.

And that’s why I love him. No matter what, I can count on him. He stands by me even when it sucks.