Well, it’s been a few days since I decided to be more open and more “bloggy” and then I realized I had nothing real to say as the week was full of work and, this week, was in the most boring of places, so I just hunkered down in my Holiday Inn Expresses, and visited Tumblr as often as I could (which is futile when locked) and binged watched some TV (anyone watch A Million Little Things? – I’m man crushing on the personality of the bearded guy and the face of the one cheating on his wife).
The Tumblr part reminded me of a thought I had because I get a ton of questions about “how did you turn your husband kinky?” I would like to tell people the exact ingredients, but I am working on a secretive patented pill that, taken just once, will make the vanilla swallower into a kinky slave like real swallower or into the most demanding Dom ever, dependent on the wishes of the person who gives the soon to be transformed that wonderful pill. It’s as easy as that. Take my pill and all will be good. Oh, and it will be a million dollars cause I am tired of flying.
Damn, wouldn’t that be nice? I have to say I don’t know where or how I would have gotten it, but twenty years ago when I met Axel I might have mortgaged my soul for such a pill, though being a switch makes me wonder if I’d have to have two and that would be impossible. But, fuck, I keep forgetting I am going to own the patent and the pills so I guess I could give give myself a good discount? Wonder if I’d have to blow me to do it?
Anyway, with Axel, he is now more kinky than ever and has a wildly Dom streak coming out of him that is incredibly hot to see, and experience. But, IT’S BEEN TWENTY YEARS. So, boys and girls, don’t get all pissed thinking that I am going to guide on how you too can turn your husband in just twenty years, because I will speed up the process.
In fairness to Ax, it’s likely only been about ten years since I truly opened up to him about my kinky side and that I wanted him to be part of that life. The first ten years were me pretending to be happily vanilla and that wasn’t working, but I do suspect you whipper snapper modern kinksters would get around to being more open about your feelings a bit faster than the 1990’s sweeping hair Drew did. Also, in the spirit of fairness, as some of you know, eight years ago Ax had an injury that required significant ortho work on his leg and hip that had a “mechanical failure” three years ago which caused all the work to have to be done again though removing the first caused a need for huge incisions through the thigh muscles, so that set him back many years each time as apparently thinking about me tied in sling locked in a thick collar didn’t make his bones heal faster or make him use his old lady with tennis ball walker any faster either. For some reason kinky Drew was not the top of his mind because “he hurt” and only could focus on himself (said with such a kidding sarcastic tone, btw). He’s not back to normal yet, but that normal is based on him pre-accident, pre-surgeries and that level of normal will likely never be back, so we have learned/are learning how to settle and make things fit the new us who are not nearly as flexible and a bit limited in what we can do. In all honesty, I am still afraid I will break him if I am aggressive, but logic tells me otherwise, so I try!
So, back to the original question of how I turned my vanilla, country, therapist husband into a kink machine? Well, I didn’t. While he is far from a kink machine (said a tad ironically as he has more metal in him than most of us), but he is in the territory now and that is a huge improvement. How we got him there, though, is likely the fear of so many people out there because it comes down to one single word…communication.
Yep, that fucking word that always makes everything better. This was a horrible thing for me as I realized he would never grow unless I explained to him what I liked, why I liked it, and what that act does to me emotionally. To do this, we created a private Tumblr and a few years ago I started reposting pictures of things I would like him to do to me like that and, when needed, explained how it could work (ie: take the chain in the upstairs closet, get an eye bolt out of the garage, hire seven Cuban dancers, fly Ferns to the US, etc, etc). Each day, when possible, we would discuss the pics and he would ask me what it made me feel like to imagine myself doing that, etc, etc. It was such a hard process for me as I fought a mix of embarrassment and a lack of empowerment but it was absolutely needed.
That Tumblr game continued for a bit until I stopped saying anything about the pics but just posting them anyway. What happened was he surprised me by responding to each pic and telling me what HE thought I liked about it and how he could make it happen on his terms. Now, we each add pics and often lay in bed together with the iPad talking about them and, mostly, he doesn’t allow me to talk about them with him, but as he does he watches the cage rise and fall and, apparently, that’s all he needs to know about my “feelings” on the topic at hand (often literally). One night we went through 173 pictures and, while I thought I would die, my head swooned with excitement.
No, he’s not ready for kinky porn, but in another twenty years he might be ready for some geriatric exhibitions in our new retirement villa somewhere. But, finally, my advice? Just talk, talk and talk some more. Yes, it’s painful. Yes, it’s weird. But, it’s likely the biggest thing in the thousands of possible steps to makes your partner kinky that will get the fastest results.
Oh yeah, the open marriage helped too – spoiler alert!