Acktion
GrumpyOldDude
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2011
- Posts
- 4,397
Thank you for this thread, Cookie. And for all the respondents so far.
My Domly wisdom tells me that I should keep my yap shut (or my fingers braided together), but I've been lurking and ruminating. And,... well... as difficult as it may be for some to believe who have encountered my long-winded ass before, I don't always just have to toss my nickel into every thread. But, this one... this one, I just can't remain quiet.
I've had probably more than my fair share of submissives, both on-line and off, considering I am not Fabio or Christian Grey. And the thing is, the real thing doesn't have to measure up to the fantasy. It's much better.
Did we fight? You bet. At the risk of pissing off the natives, I can remember three with my wife of two and a half decades. Now, some will roll their eyes and think me bragging since they fight two or three times a week, and here I am saying that we only fought (what I considered a fight) three times in twenty-five years. But, my point is that yes, my slave fought her Master, my submissive rebelled against her Dominant. My little bucked her Daddy. It doesn't matter how often it happens, I don't think. It matters how it is handled and what comes next. And you know what? I won. Every time. Even when I was in the wrong. Even when we then did it her way afterwards. I won because she was still with me, was still mine.
I preferred her naked. However, having a couple of kids, being disabled or handicapped or whatever the term is now, and age made her less than enamored of her own body. We compromised and she was allowed to wear clothing. One of my shirts. Or one of her nightshirts. A moo-moo when we anyone other than just us was around. And it didn't slow me down from playing grab titty and spank ass, or from taking her anywhere I damn well chose (sans her safeword). In the kitchen, at the stove, does come to mind since someone mentioned it. And, yes, in her orange corduroy moo-moo.
And, yeah. We would both get tickled by normal bodily functions occurring during romantic interludes. Farts? Hell, let me tell you about the time our belly buttons formed suction!
Or maybe not. Some things should probably remain private.
I don't know. I readily admit that not only is my sell-by date long past, but (depending on whom is asked) my use-by date as well. But, I've tended to look at it like this for a while now.
She ain't got to be anybody else's idea of perfect, not even her own, so long as she is perfect for me.
And I ain't gotta be anybody else's idea of the perfect Dom, not even my own, so long as I am perfect for her.
And if I ain't Fabio or Christian Grey, so long as she is alright with that and opens herself up to me completely, I think that's a good thing. And, yes, including letting me see her completely naked. Tummy. Freckles. Grey hair. Scars. Hell, I readily admit I really am that shallow. And if I didn't like what I see, then I wouldn't be here.
So, go ahead and be perfectly imperfect you. The One who is meant to will value you all the more for it. The ones who don't... fuck 'em. Er... or rather don't.
My Domly wisdom tells me that I should keep my yap shut (or my fingers braided together), but I've been lurking and ruminating. And,... well... as difficult as it may be for some to believe who have encountered my long-winded ass before, I don't always just have to toss my nickel into every thread. But, this one... this one, I just can't remain quiet.
I've had probably more than my fair share of submissives, both on-line and off, considering I am not Fabio or Christian Grey. And the thing is, the real thing doesn't have to measure up to the fantasy. It's much better.
Did we fight? You bet. At the risk of pissing off the natives, I can remember three with my wife of two and a half decades. Now, some will roll their eyes and think me bragging since they fight two or three times a week, and here I am saying that we only fought (what I considered a fight) three times in twenty-five years. But, my point is that yes, my slave fought her Master, my submissive rebelled against her Dominant. My little bucked her Daddy. It doesn't matter how often it happens, I don't think. It matters how it is handled and what comes next. And you know what? I won. Every time. Even when I was in the wrong. Even when we then did it her way afterwards. I won because she was still with me, was still mine.
I preferred her naked. However, having a couple of kids, being disabled or handicapped or whatever the term is now, and age made her less than enamored of her own body. We compromised and she was allowed to wear clothing. One of my shirts. Or one of her nightshirts. A moo-moo when we anyone other than just us was around. And it didn't slow me down from playing grab titty and spank ass, or from taking her anywhere I damn well chose (sans her safeword). In the kitchen, at the stove, does come to mind since someone mentioned it. And, yes, in her orange corduroy moo-moo.
And, yeah. We would both get tickled by normal bodily functions occurring during romantic interludes. Farts? Hell, let me tell you about the time our belly buttons formed suction!
Or maybe not. Some things should probably remain private.
I don't know. I readily admit that not only is my sell-by date long past, but (depending on whom is asked) my use-by date as well. But, I've tended to look at it like this for a while now.
She ain't got to be anybody else's idea of perfect, not even her own, so long as she is perfect for me.
And I ain't gotta be anybody else's idea of the perfect Dom, not even my own, so long as I am perfect for her.
And if I ain't Fabio or Christian Grey, so long as she is alright with that and opens herself up to me completely, I think that's a good thing. And, yes, including letting me see her completely naked. Tummy. Freckles. Grey hair. Scars. Hell, I readily admit I really am that shallow. And if I didn't like what I see, then I wouldn't be here.
So, go ahead and be perfectly imperfect you. The One who is meant to will value you all the more for it. The ones who don't... fuck 'em. Er... or rather don't.