My, but isn't it amazing how intimidating a blinking cursor can be? Especially when it's the only visible feature on an otherwise blank page for the first posting of a brand new blog!
I hemmed and hawed over this for a bit. Do I relate a complete history as to what brought my queen and I to our present state, or just jump right in with current happenings?
Actually, it probably doesn't matter all that much, because with this being a new effort, the only eyes that will see it for some time will be mine!
But enough flippancy, I think at least some sort of background is called for...
Both I and my queen are five decades old, and have been together for three of them. Fairly early on, she knew I was submissive, occasionally indulged my needs, but somehow I was always left feeling like less of a man for having a need that I couldn't stop if I tried.
Truth be told, I didn't need her tacit disapproval to feel badly about myself. Before the advent of the Internet, common sense told me that what I craved was "not right". It also told me that I was probably the only man on earth who could have these feelings.
As time went on, I learned that I was hardly alone, and started to accept myself for who I was. Yet, that strain between us continued. I would say that a little over a year ago, I reached the point where I could stand it no longer. My need to submit was beginning to consume me. I felt like I was going insane.
While I don't have a gay bone in my body, I've always likened my situation to a gay man in a heterosexual relationship. It didn't matter if she is "model beautiful" (she is), nor did it matter if she was sexy (she's a fitness fanatic and has an body a 21 year old would kill for). Nor did it really matter that she was funny, smart, wise, and the mother of my grown children. She couldn't give me what I needed more than anything, and she wanted no part of the thing that I obsessed over for hours a day. I felt i had to start "living my life" before my life was over.
Wanna know the hardest thing in the world to do? Trying to fall out of love with the most wonderful woman that ever was. Yet, I did attempt just that. I became cold, aloof, distant, and morose. I proceeded to build one emotional wall after another, all in an effort to make her stop loving me.
If there's one thing my childhood taught me (a subject I may return to at some point), it's how to emotionally compartmentalize. Eventually, I was beginning to think that she'd given up on us, and would be willing to let me go. And as terrifying as starting a new life without her would be, I convinced myself that I could never find peace unless it was in the service of a woman who wanted to own me as much as I wanted to be enslaved to her
Never in a million years, did I imagine the domme of my dreams was with me all along. I'll explain why, in my next entry.