Posts tagged ‘tears’

A Man’s Best Friend

I went away for a much needed bit of R&R last weekend for four days. While I was away Maitre’s much beloved Labrador stopped eating. A trip to the vet showed that she was riddled with cancer and so they had to put her to sleep. My big sweet man was crushed. In his pain he wrote me the most beautiful eulogy I have ever read. With his permission I would like to share it.

 

 

Back when I first moved to where I am now I didn’t have much money even less than I have now. My grandmother used to help out with money for this tool or that lumber or whatever we needed. I got a large metal wheelbarrow to help with things around the farm. I was actively farming anything I thought I could make a buck on at the time. The fire department job offered a good amount of time off to pursue such flights of fancy.  I had lots of help around the farm; a new puppy and an exuberant 4 year old. The puppy didn’t really help much… her contribution was more comic relief. She would often make off with a glove removed during a break just so we would chase her. The 4 year old was good for holding things when I didn’t have enough hands or running to get things when something was left behind. He could work the gate but most of the goats outweighed him so unless he got the gate latched well ahead of them they often just pushed the gate open and him down in the process. He seldom cried about it and the dog seldom turned down the opportunity to lick him when he was down. He would get up all covered with dirt and dog slobber and say “darn goats!” Then proceed to try and help me round up the escapee.

The wheelbarrow hauled lots of things. Manure from the chicken house to the compost pile, bales of hay and straw, bags of feed, rocks for building the drain tile around the frost free hydrants we were installing and firewood. We had a woodstove back then. It also hauled some very precious cargo like eggs (no we didn’t get them by the wheelbarrow load they rode with other things) and groceries when the driveway washed out but the most precious cargo was the puppy and the boy. Many rides were given just for fun and some because the pair was just too pooped to walk back to the house. One of the happiest memories I have is of the dog and the boy in the wheelbarrow taking a ride for fun. The dog would alternate barking at me and licking the boy. I never figured out whether the barking was out of terror or to make me push faster. She always got into the wheelbarrow willingly though and didn’t get out until we got where we were going. I remember after a particularly long day of putting up fence, the boy and the dog both rode back to the house in the wheelbarrow and were both asleep before we got halfway back to the house.

The farm grew and along came a tractor. A much needed tractor I might add, with a loader. The dog and the boy both rode on the tractor still helping with chores or whatever around the farm. I think the boy preferred the tractor, well, because it was a tractor. They both had pretty much outgrown the wheelbarrow. I suspect the dog thought the tractor made too much noise. She did eagerly tag along when I was bush hogging to chase whatever the tractor scared out of the brush. I had hopes that she would turn out to be a gun dog but she was horribly gun shy and hid under my desk whenever a thunderstorm would come through. Being my comic relief and companion would have to be enough.

The old metal wheelbarrow had pretty much fallen from favor after the tractor’s arrival. It still got the occasional use for mixing a bit of concrete or potting soil or getting in somewhere the tractor just wouldn’t go. The tractor broke and it took some time arguing with the manufacturer to get parts under warranty. During that time a second wheelbarrow came to help with a big project. It has not one but two wheels on the front a plastic tub and at least half again the capacity in the tub part. With all it’s geee whiz features it still lacked the character of the original one. Yeah it gets some use but it’s not my favorite.

I’m not farming as much these days…. hell I barely even plant a garden anymore. The tractor is long gone. Not from lack of need but sold to pay bills. I somehow get by without it. The new  plastic wheelbarrow sits by the shed full of some broken up bricks I have been using too fill holes in the driveway. The tires are flat and I’m sure it’s full of rainwater. The old metal wheelbarrow was in the back yard, bottom nearly rusted through, tire flat and handles just barely holding on. I’m sure the spot it is sitting in is where it stopped when the project that brought the other wheelbarrow halted. That was probably 4 years ago.  That was about the time the boy left me.

It’s funny how time passes and things change in 10 years. You expect some things to just always be there. Like the dog meeting the truck at the end of the driveway or barking at me when I came in after dark until she realized it was me. About with heart worms nearly took her at 5 years. Mostly my fault for not staying on top of her preventive medicine. I’m sorry for putting her through that suffering but she pulled through. I’d noticed over the last 6 months she’s stopped coming so far down the driveway to meet me. An aspirin during the colder months eased her arthritis pain for the last two years or so. Proin kept her from wetting her bed at night for about that same time. The last couple of days she would hardly eat. On that Friday she wouldn’t even eat hamburger and rice. When she wouldn’t eat at all I suspected it was time.

I love our vet. The vet took her temp and talked nice to her as she always does. Then came some X-rays and the explanation. The difficulty breathing was coming from a tumor in her chest. Her lymph nodes which should be barely detectable in an X-ray were as big as my thumb. Cancer was the diagnosis. There is no way to detect it early in dogs and sadly no treatment. She was working hard just to breathe lying down. I pondered calling in sick to work on Saturday and taking her home for the weekend and bringing her back on Monday. The vet said she understood wanting to but that she wouldn’t be any better tomorrow than she was today. Taking her home was fine but it wouldn’t make it any easier on Monday. She was right. She suggested we take her outside for a while and think about it.

She lay in my lap working entirely too hard just to breathe and be petted. Yes you can get 83# of lab in my lap. My wife and I talked to her and about  how she is really the one that got us together. If Cinny hadn’t given her away the night she snuck up to the house she would have just gone home and changer her number. I would have never heard from her again. We both cried and loved on Cinny but then it was time. It sure was a long walk back inside the Vet’s office. I love our vet. They put us in the room in the older back part of the office away from the other folks and gave us another couple of minutes. The doc asked if we wanted to stay, of course the answer was yes. She explained how the procedure worked and what to expect. All her life Cinny never snapped or bit anyone no matter how bad she was hurting. Today was no exception. She just lay on the table wagging her tail as the vet shaved the spot on her leg and gave her the injection. After the drug had done its job the vet offered a bag to put her in. I just couldn’t do it so I cut 2 sides of the bag, opened it flat and put it in the back seat. I scooped her up and put her in the back seat. She loved to ride.
 
When I got home, I got the steel handled shovel. It really is a pleasure to dig with if such a thing is possible. Cinny had a favorite spot to sit in the shade and watch me in the garden. It seemed only right that she should spend the rest of her days there. The spot isn’t really accessible with the car and it was really to far to carry her. I had some precious cargo to move. So I went and got the old steel wheelbarrow. I could have just aired up the tires on the plastic one and dumped the bricks out but it just didn’t seem right.

Current Events

 
Recently my dear friend A joined Us in play. It was lovely. He commented that it was the most balanced and giving threesome he’s ever been in. I have to agree. It was what I always thought a threesome should be and had always hoped it could be. Just warm, erotic, sensual… sigh… lovely.

Now, we came into this as a “vanilla experience”. We left the power exchange as out of it as We can. There was no impact play or any other element bdsm element. However, in conversations leading up to it A had eluded to some interest in bdsm and in topping. So, when Maitre left town in March for close to two weeks (by my clock) he left in her care with instructions. I hadn’t wanted to write about it until I had discussed it with both of them.

 I feel privileged to have been there and been the sub on which she spread her wings and took flight, very privileged. Thank you Maitre for seeing it, encouraging it and facilitating it. Thank you A for trusting me enough to let go, experiment and ask me to dig for you.

 Neither Maitre nor I saw the extent to which it would click with A. This left me mentally unprepared for what I would encounter and I suspect left holes in some wisdom Maitre might otherwise have shared. A in her newness did not see the potential emotional impact of some of her choices of play. It was a learning experience for all three of us I suppose but of course especially for me and A.  In retrospect there should have been a three way discussion of limits and experience. But He and I just didn’t see any of this coming. Of course it is fine because we love and trust each other, Maitre knews this and knew that I would be in good hands… despite the unforeseen.

 A collar and leash is somewhere I hadn’t gone yet, with anyone.  So, when A put them on me it was a novelty. At the outset I was fine, cavalier even. Never having played much with humiliation or real objectification I under estimated the potential impact.  I also failed to see how the vulnerability created by a good beating and the control of you body by another (including orgasm). I went into it cavalierly but came out humiliated and upset. I cringed inside from the circumstance. I hated the collar and crawling at her heel on the way back. Her decision to penetrate me anally and the strength of my orgasms only made it more so.  I wanted to cry, I really wanted to cry but wouldn’t. Why I wouldn’t was part of the key to why it was so upsetting…besides the obvious humiliation.

 Maitre and I have longed talked about “playing to tears”. There have been some but not in scene, as these would have been.  I felt the tears should have been his. I felt that he should have been there to experience them, to feel them, to hear my sobs. I reasoned that to some extent they were his because I was there at his bidding. It didn’t help much. I was also upset because I thought the collar and leash had been his idea. I thought that he had given over to another a first for me instead of being under his supervision…and the gift it would have been to him. It never occurred to me to say “no” to her, to express that collar and leash are his before they are hers but then again I didn’t know what his directions were and what weren’t. 

 When I think about it I am still upset that “that” first experience went to another.  I’m still upset that it wasn’t given to him. I am not upset with her, I am not upset with him, nor am I upset with myself…I’m not even upset for having had the experience with her. I just wish that because of the emotional impact of it that it had been his first. But there were so many blind spots for all of us there is no way we could have foreseen the situation. Hell, if you had asked me I wouldn’t have seen it. And as with all things that cause us discomfort they are opportunities for self examination and growth.

We played twice. Both were very intense just in different ways. The first emotionally as laid out above the second physically.
 She was far tougher on me in some ways than he has been. This was a learning experience too. I learned that I like pain, for the sake of pain. I learned that I like to play even without the promise of a sexual encounter. Does it excite? Certainly! But without direct erotic stimulation it doesn’t cause sexual frustration. You don’t play with my pussy? I can enjoy the pain for pain, the dig for the dig and walk away feeling refreshed, feeling like I have undergone a catharsis.
 

I love to feel the sensations just for themselves and she put me through my paces in terms of sensations… blind folded and trussed to the pipes in her frigid basement there were: tickles, cold, heat, wet, dry candle wax, objects dragged across my hypothermic body, spanking, her belt (I think), the pain of standing in heels for a long time, the pain of being cold… I was never so thankful to be released from restraints and sent to dress! What she never did was truly play with my pussy. So … another first at A’s hands… sensation play for the sake of sensation play. No big emotional struggle this time…just yummm, yummm…YUMMMM!!
 

So…there we have it…my week at the hands of a budding Domme… excruciating in many ways and a chance to grow and learn about myself. Many thanks again Daddy and A.
Oh…one last lesson…in my emotional turmoil of the collar and leash, is the lesson of how much He means to me and how my desire to give to Him is just not a general desire to give but is wonderfully, agonizingly, amazingly, specific to Him.

Not All are Clear

I wrestled with whether I should cross post this and decided in favor. To those of you who read both blogs, my apologies. I just really feel a need for to share this, to get it out of me.

 

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I sit there watching bright red drops of blood come trickling out of me, watching them hit the water making their little donut-shaped clouds, then settling and sliding down the toilet bowl wall. I have been having periods, heavy ones at that, twice a month like clock work so the doc pulled my IUD today.

 

Why is this harder for me than deleting his cell phone number (which I still haven’t done)? This is somehow more final. This somehow seems to truly acknowledge that he is gone. The simplicity and ease with which I made the decision was what caught me. I had it put in for him, in a way it was his IUD, like so many things about me were his or his doing. He is gone, it’s superfluous, it can go.

 

The baby he always wanted but never had, our passion kept barren, those bright red drops falling quietly into the toilet… tears of my womb.

 

Yet another good-bye and I wonder when the waves will stop coming.