I’ve always considered myself fairly vanilla, especially when compared to some of my kinkier blog friends. Until last night, I had hardly ever ventured past having my hair pulled or being lightly restrained. The more I’ve learned about myself and my sexuality, the more I’ve craved to know the feeling of being dominated. I’ve quietly desired to be spanked, flogged, tied up, and forced (willingly, of course) to completely submit.

Last night was the start of it all. A playful suggestion of “I’m going to bend you over the bed, go get that crop, and spank you hard” was all it took. I feigned a slight disinterest, although willingness, with a simple “okay, then do it.” In my head I was excited. This was something we had never done before, that I quietly, and sometimes unknowingly, yearned for. With the first slap of the leather crop, I knew this is what I had been waiting for. Slap. I took it quietly, bent over with my ass in the air. Slap. He would rub my ass as it slowly and beautifully turned red. Slap. Just a little harder each time. Slap. With my eyes closed, and my mind wandering off into a place of oblivion, I knew why so many people liked this. Slap. I rolled over quickly, a mindless reaction. He smiled at me, sensing my obvious enjoyment.

I fell in love with kink last night. My mind was freed, and I focused on nothing other than him and me. The trust I had for him and the love I felt was almost overwhelming. This… this is why people must like this so much, I thought to myself. I know I won’t become a full-time submissive, it’s just not in my nature, but I enjoy this sexual aspect of myself and our relationship. I’ve already begun craving more, looking at floggers and paddles, adding them to my wishlist in hopes of having them soon. I feel like a new world opened itself up to me, and I can’t help but be excited for the things I’ll soon discover.

It happened again today… M tried to bring up being deployed to Iraq.

M: “I need to clean. And we still need to talk…”
Me: “Talk? About what?”
M: “Oh nothing bad. Just the whole Iraq thing.”
Me: …..

That’s where I shut down every single time. I can’t even bring myself to think about it, how am I supposed to talk about it? I’m terrified. I never thought it was something I would have to go through.

He says he’s leaving in November. I keep telling him that we’ll talk about it when everything is set in stone. I need to figure this out in my own mind before I can discuss it with him.

So I’m up late and it doesn’t look like I’ll be able to sleep anytime soon, so I thought it might be a good time to share a little bit about M, previously referred to as the boy. He’s been brought up before, and there’s no doubt he’ll be brought up again.

M and I met while I was in high school. He was the good-looking ladie’s man, and I didn’t think I had a shot in hell. M had a bad boy reputation and proved it to be true with his party boy ways. We friended each other on Myspace, and for a year rarely talked besides a few comments here and there.

Jump forward a few months. I had a brief fling with M’s friend (scandelous, right?) which ended casually. We all remained friends, running into one another at random places. M and I ran into each other at a mutual friend’s house one night, and I still believed he was way out of my league. Somehow we started hanging out more and more frequently, and the relationship slowly became more than platonic.

Three weeks after M and I officially began dating, he left for military basic training. He was gone for a total of six months, during which I only saw him once. Surprisingly, I believe this was a blessing in disguise. Those months apart allowed us to build a connection that wasn’t solely based on physical attraction, which is definitely one of the reasons we’ve lasted this long.

The year after M returned is just a big blur to me now. It was full of fighting, infidelity, drinking, lying, exploring sexual boundries, and growing up. I would never want to re-live that year, but I learned a lot about relationships and even more about myself.

This past year has been one of amazing growth. M admitted to his past infidelities, which crushed me to the core and lifted a weight off of our relationship at the same time. Things hadn’t been good between us for some time, and it didn’t surprise me to hear what had happened. I had known it all along, but honestly never thought I would hear the truth from him. We broke up for a few months, and both thought a lot about whether our relationship could ever work and if it was even worth a try.

During our break-up M went to rehab for alcoholism. His addiction was a huge part of the reason our relationship wasn’t working. Since he’s been back, we’ve slowly been rebuilding a relationship. Things are much better now that drinking isn’t dictating his time or actions. He realizes that there is a lot of damage to repair and has stepped up to the plate, much to my surprise.

There are times I get frustrated and feel like giving up, but I think that is just me being scarred that he is going to slip back into old habits. Sometimes I find myself worrying that the past will repeat itself, only to have him surprise me with his efforts to become not only a better boyfriend, but a better person.

I truly love and respect M, even though I do not love and respect everything he’s done in the past. Every day he shows me that there is nothing that cannot be overcome. I do not know what the future holds for us, but I am a lucky girl to have had somebody like him in my life.