Who are we today?

As loyal readers know, Bear and I don’t see each other as much as we would like. What with children and various other responsibilities, we hope to see each other for two weekends a month, but it’s often less. When we do spend time together, we aren’t constantly being kinky. We are real people trying to maintain a healthy relationship despite the pressures of distance and other complications, and while kink is a necessary part of our relationship, it isn’t the only part. So in practice, it can be a while between kinky play sessions.
Last year we decided to push a few things further, with Bear being more forceful. Not going as far as consensual non-consent, but certainly playing-up the feeling of me being physically overwhelmed and helpless as he fucks me. I love this feeling, with his hands pushing me down and being unable to move, especially when he says filthy things to me. I find it an incredible turn-on and it was like we had discovered an instant slut-button. Our play has been continuing in this vein since then, and it’s been amazing. There have been occasions when I have been magnetically attracted to his cock, literally following it around when he pulled it out of my mouth. Something we were both a bit surprised by, but enjoyed immensely.

Now, it goes without saying that I spend every moment I am away from him missing him terribly, but recently, I have found myself craving him in a different way. Not the forceful Dom who pushes me around in the bedroom when I’m being all slutty. Not the snuggly bear who gives me cuddles on the sofa (although obviously I always miss this bit).
I’m missing the Dom who strokes my hair while I sit at his feet, and makes me feel all loved and cherished and cared for, but definitely still owned. So I feel subby but not necessarily slutty. The feeling I get when he fastens the collar around my neck. I think the focus on the purely sexual side of kink we have had recently has overshadowed the other elements a bit. I want to please him, and be his good girl rather than just his slut.

I mentioned to Bear that I really “missed my Dom”, and his initial (and understandable) suggestion was that he would be extra Domly at the weekend. I was immediately worried that I would get pissy with him if he went for that slut-button, thinking that was what I wanted. I still find it difficult when I feel like I’m “directing” him, and I was a little uncomfortable telling him that wasn’t what I had in mind. But he is awesome and always wants to understand me, so I did my best to explain what I was feeling to him. I think he gets it, and we’re going to have a fantastic weekend.

However, it still feels weird to me to talk about things in this way. Like we are scripting our relationship instead of it happening organically.
Being kinky adds so many facets to the relationship, and we each have various roles that we fill for each other. I am aware that if we are out of sync with which aspects of ourselves we want to express at a given time, it can cause friction, and not the fun kind. I want to be what he wants me to be, but sometimes I just don’t feel it, and then I have to choose between feeling like I’m disappointing him or going with it and hoping for the best. I should say that this is all in my own head, and he would never pressure me to do something I didn’t want to.

I don’t remember having to coordinate like this when I was in a vanilla relationship. It seemed simpler. Yes, there was the clichéd mismatch of expectations, but established vanilla couples don’t usually need to specify exactly what kind of sex they want. They just have sex. They don’t have detailed discussions about showing exactly the right type of affection for their mood that day. But then again, they are frequently frustrated with their partners not being mind readers, so I suppose it all comes back to communication. As much as I find it difficult to be assertive, I don’t expect Bear to know what I’m thinking. While my submission is about giving him control of me, it’s also about learning to take some control of our interaction. Neither of us is just a passenger in this. We both have things we need from each other, and that requires honesty, adaptability and confidence in the other person. We have to trust each other to listen, and to sometimes adjust our initial inclinations. It might make things seem less spontaneous, but I value mutual understanding in a strong relationship much more than spontaneity in an ungrounded one.

Future Here

Only me

Future HereHello, only me. Cub mentioned that I haven’t written anything for ages and that she likes to read my poorly written prose. So can you guess what I am doing… Oh wait..you will already know what I am doing, as I would have finished and published this by the time you have even read the first word. There goes my surprise.

Today, we reach October. Three months left of the year two thousand and seventeen anno domini. A year which had seen turbulence around the world. A year where cub is more comfortable getting naked in front of people and a year where I found out I needed to make some lifestyle changes.

Just to be clear not BDSM lifestyle changes but, actual life changes. With BDSM I think I am constantly changing, growing and understanding what I want and what cub wants. Living apart and having brief moments of play has worked well. Of course as I have said before, there will come a time when this is just not enough. I know we will both want more.

This wanting more plays on my mind a lot. More than it probably should. I am happy (ish) at the moment. Work is ok, if a little dull and way underpaid, yet it gives me the flexibility to be a great dad to my kids and the ability to see cub longer than most LDR’s.

It was Louis CK who said in one of his stand-up routines, being a divorce parent is great. You get to have parent time and adult time. You get time with the kids being the parent helping with homework and life skills. Yet for me every other weekend I am free to be an adult and do VERY adult things.So what would a future look like with cub?

It’s clear one of us would need to move. We live 90 minutes apart so any move would involve a new home and new job for at least one of us. Then we have to work our how the other parent of our kids will react and deal with any changes. Then you throw in the logistics of the other parents the children. It’s all rather complex.

Yet, it doesn’t phase me as much as it should. I can foresee the motorway becoming a friend and a foe. I can see integration of parenting styles being an issue and I can see my bad habits being annoying. Yet despite the negatives and the harsh reality that I have no idea how, when or if it would all work. I still want it. I want bad.

I want to come home to cub after work (certainly not a hard day at work). I want to be at home for cub. I want to look after cub, nurture her and protect her. Help her with the boring, grown up stuff we all have to do. Now I think this is a real sign of love, I have already helped her switch energy supplier. That’s my dedication all laid out in cold hard boringness. 

I want to do the boring mundane things in life together as a couple. I want to enjoy as much time as I can with cub. From doing the food shop to picking out soft furnishings. I have already been practicing my “that looks nice dear” routine as, well, soft furnishings are so not my thing. 

One day things will be different, things will be like a new dawn on a summer day, like a butterfly appearing from its cocoon or like the first time you go to CMnf. Wide eyed with no where to look.*

So there you have it cub. I have done some writing, I have laid out the future, of sorts. I now just need to read this back to see if it makes any sense or if it’s the words of a mad man driven to insanity by the sounds of a kids party. My God it’s fucking noisy.




*As an aside, so many beautiful people at CMnf with so much wonderful body art and decorations. It’s hard to take in some of the designs and not look like you’re ogling.

Hanky Panky Spanky #KOTW

There is something about spanking. It was where it all began for me, the first taste of something wonderful that made me want more. Since realising that I was, in fact, a submissive, I have had the opportunity to learn about and try lots of different things, but spanking is always there, always in the arsenal. Snigger.

Bear and I have floggers and paddles and other implements, and I love it when he uses them on me. I love it when he keeps me guessing, and I love the different sensations. But sometimes I miss the feel of him. The toys put him (literally) at arms length and I crave more contact. With a spanking, he can be so much closer, touch me so much more. My bottom doesn’t always enjoy the process, but the rest of me does.

As much as I love close contact with Bear, we don’t do over-the-knee spanking. We tried it once, early on, but I couldn’t relax. I felt too precarious, perched on his knee like that. That was also the same weekend I asked him to spank me hard. I wanted to prove to myself that I could take it. It was like a point of honour. I remember the first time he left marks, little bruises on my bum, floggers don’t leave bruises, I was ridiculously proud, and twisted round in front of the mirror to admire them.

Recently, Bear has started spanking my pussy more often, something that is incredibly effective. We can be lying next to each other in bed, cuddled and relaxed, and with a hand around my throat and a few spanks on my pussy he can reduce me to a squirming horny mess. Something about it taps straight into that feeling of being a naughty little slut, and I’m wet and willing in seconds.

Yet there is a flip side too, this is when we come to the punishments. It’s amazing how the same physical sensation can feel so different, purely because of our perceptions and feelings about it at the time. I loathe punishment spankings, and I am very appreciative of the fact that I haven’t had very many. But each one hurts, very deeply. The sting multiplied by the knowledge that I have earned each one by disappointing my Dom.

It’s unrealistic to think that I might never have another, but I can hope. I try not to let him down. Not wanting the spanking is at the bottom of the list of reasons why, but I can’t deny it’s on there.

Spanking doesn’t require any special equipment. It lets you take everything back to basics, strip away the toys and implements, and the prop, leaving just the Dominant and the submissive. It’s seems so simple, but is so versatile. A Dom can use it to make his (or her) sub feel so many different things.  It teases, excites, punishes and pleases.
Far be it from me to tell anyone how to “do”  kink, but to me, it is one of the most fundamental acts of BDSM, and I couldn’t imagine a relationship without it.



I feel amazing when… 

… Bear is pleased with me. I’m pretty content most of the time. I quite like my job, I have a comfortable home, and I regularly get to hang out with the most awesome six-year-old in the world. I am happy. But I don’t really feel like am amazing unless I am with my Bear. There is nothing quite like the sense of satisfaction I get when I make him cum. I love that feeling you get that you can’t describe, the one all other subs know and nobody else can understand. The thrill when he tells me that I belong to him. Being his sub is probably the thing I feel I do best. 

I’m a good mum, but any parent knows that you are always aware of the mistakes you have made, the shortcuts we all take sometimes. I could be better, and will always try to be, but I will never be satisfied that I can stop trying. Which is not to say that I am complacent when it comes to being a good submissive, just that I have more confidence. I know when I have made him happy, and I bask in it. His praise makes me glow like nothing else, because I don’t have to question it, or qualify it in my mind. 

I did at first, when we were still learning each other. This is my first (hmm, first implies that I am expecting there to be a second and third. Only?) BDSM relationship. Before Bear and I clicked and decided to meet, I had talked with several potential Doms and they always wanted something I wasn’t confident I could give; high heels, which is definitely not me, or strict rules about waxing and physical appearance, which I didn’t feel were practical for a working mum on a tight budget. Especially one as low-maintenance (lazy) as me. 

If these interactions had progressed to something more, I would have tried. That’s sort of the point, after all. But I didn’t have any confidence that I could do it and so it was a relief when they all came to nothing. But with Bear, it’s so different. 

When we play, I feel like it comes naturally to me, and he communicates so well I never have hesitation or doubts that I am doing it right. I can do this, and do it well. Every little stroke he gives me, every time he says I’ve been a good girl, I know he is proud of me and that makes me proud of myself.

I wasn’t particularly sexually adventurous in my youth. I wouldn’t say I was repressed, but I was always a little too self-conscious to really throw myself into it. Plus, I understand now that I wasn’t getting what I needed back then, and I always felt slightly removed from the experience. I wouldn’t have described myself as a very sexual person. But now, with Bear and the BDSM, that feels very different. On the surface nothing much has changed, but when it’s just us, as Dom and sub, he makes me feel so deliciously slutty and filthy. I love being his slut, and knowing that he likes me that way. I don’t feel awkward or ridiculous or ashamed.  I believe him when he tells me he thinks I’m sexy, so I feel sexy with him. That is not something I have felt before, and it makes me feel amazing. 


I feel amazing when… I bet you can guess.

Now this blog post could go a number of ways. Once again I could just list things which cub does that makes me feel amazing, I could look into a couple of things more closely and analyse why I find them brilliant or I could start with the prompt and end up somehow completely different. So let’s see where we go today.

Let’s be clear right off the bat I have depression. I have had it a while and find it can swing from debilitating to annoying and anywhere in between. Back in the day it was really bad, there were times when the darkness would come over me and I would really not want to continue with life. The only thing that kept me going was my kids.

With the recent high profile suicides of two rock stars, this got me thinking about this post, life and everything in-between. I thought I had my depression down and knew the reasons for it. I thought a change in my circumstances would help me get back to the person I used to be.

That has not gone to plan as much as I had hoped. There are still times when I feel low and the black of the world comes back and bites me in the arse but I will admit these days a fewer and further between now. The changes I have made have helped a great deal. I know when I am heading towards the pit and can often concentrate on changing directions, so while not heading down the pit, I just circle by it and wave at how bad it could have been.

Other changes to my life have been cub. She has been there for me, not just helping me but trying to understand what it’s like being me and encouraging me to be the better person I know I can be. Without cub I would be in a very different place to I am now. So to answer the question I feel amazing when… it’s all the time with cub. Cheesy but bloody true.

There are more challenges to come and cub has already be a wonderful help with some of this already. I often feel stupid and silly for some of the thoughts I have. Yet cub is brilliant and amazing and helps we get a grip on these and points me in the right direction. With her help I will over come the next set of whatevers.

So on reflection the post did not go as I had thought it would. I also decided not to review any of it, as I would no doubt change elements and take out some of the more open bits. Which I think would go against the spirit of what I want to say. So please excuse the grammar, spelling and typos as this is a raw as I want to make things at this time.



This bear craves 


verb (used with object), craved, crav·ing.

  1. to long for; want greatly; desire eagerly: to crave sweets; to crave affection.
  2. to require; need: a problem craving prompt attention.

There are many things which I crave on a daily, weekly and monthly basis. Not sure there are any yearly ones, well apart from turkey on Christmas day but I sometimes want turkey in July… Mmm dry meat. Anyway, I guess as this is not a cookery blog I better talk about something a little deeper.

As you will know I don’t live with cub. We live around 90 minutes apart. This means the first thing I crave will be her, her cuddles, her body, her mind, her mouth, her cunt and her eggs… Man she has lots of eggs. So many things to do with eggs, I do like a nice hard-boiled egg but I digress.

Being with cub makes me so happy and takes me away from the humdrum of life. So, when I crave her and the things listed I also crave time away from life. A time when we are just us and other things don’t matter… most of the time. Sure, life often throws up shit, but we deal and move on. Again, I digress. Let’s go back to craves and let’s go big

I crave an easy life. One not filled with drama, heartache and stress. A life where things are not a struggle and come easily and naturally. Where the people around me are happy and chilled.  Where I can make people’s lives even happier than I can now. That’s not too much to ask?

Moving on to food cravings. Having never been pregnant (yes, I know not every pregnant person gets cravings) I don’t really get then. Sure, there are times I would like a certain food or liquid. Yet most of the time I’m not banging down the door to get my hands on it. This goes with my generally chilled nature.

Part of this chilled life, beings me back to cub. This weekend I craved one thing above all things. Kisses. We couldn’t have them at all, which was difficult to deal with. There is nothing like a good kiss and cub is a good kisser. So, while I do not crave this often as I can have itu any time I see her, last week it was a craving, a need and certainly a want.

There you have it. I am not sure you have learnt anything this time around but it might have filled a few minutes while you wait for the kettle to boil. Either way thanks for stopping by


I crave….

Crave is, to me, one of those strange words that quickly loses its meaning and becomes just a noise. Let’s take a look at it…




feel a powerful desire for (something).

  1. synonyms: long for, yearn for, hunger for, thirst for, dream of, want, set one’s heart on, wish for, lust after, covet, desire.

Those are some good synonyms. Strong words that convey a primal urgency, the sense that nothing else will satisfy. There is always something a little bit sordid about craving something. Nobody feels that raw need for something they are supposed to want, for something that is allowed. It’s always reserved for the illicit indulgences and forbidden pleasures, continuing that eternal connection between food and sex.

So, what do I crave? Besides chocolate truffles, I mean.

I crave my Bear. Of course I do, and not just because of the wonderful things we do together. Everything is better with him. He makes me laugh, and makes me think, and keeps me calm when I would panic. When I feel his arms around me after we have been apart, everything else goes quiet and I realise how on edge I have been without him. I love being with him, and get as close as possible, snuggled up next to him. We just spent a weekend together, three whole nights, but I couldn’t kiss him. It was remarkably difficult to be so close to him but have to keep that distance.

I crave the things he says to me when we play. When he tells me what he wants to do to me, the ways he is going to use me. I love it when he asks me who I belong to, and reminds me of my purpose. His voice changes when he is in Dominant mode, even when he’s keeping his voice quiet. There’s something about it that makes it firmer, more insistent. Everything he says in that voice gets me wet.

I crave feeling subby. Following on from the last one, I love that feeling when he tells me he’s going to do whatever he wants to me, because I’m his to play with. It makes me feel little and vulnerable in some ways, because I need him to control me. But at the same time it makes me feel strong and valuable, because I know I can be what he needs. I feel so proud to be his sub, so proud of the pleasure and satisfaction I can bring him. When we can’t play for a while, even if we have spent time together, I miss that feeling so much.

I crave the way he holds me. After our years together he knows what I need when I’m finding it hard to cum. He understands better than I do, that I need him to hold me down, control me. Even with his permission and encouragement, it’s like I need to physically feel his dominance before my mind will let it happen.

And cheese. A lovely sharp cheddar, melted, with some Branston pickle. Mmmm…