This post isn’t really about me and my kink in the slightest, but aimed primarily at those I have gotten to know of the five years of this blog as you have watched from the kink sideline as muggle Drew faced some hard realities of aging that have absolutely nothing to do with whether my dick is currently encased or not (fyi, not, because Ax thought I might be sad and just now let me have my way with him).
This post is, yet again, all about my Mom. For those relatively new to me, my mother is my hero. In sitcom comparisons she was the Julia Sugarbaker of real life and in movies she was the Skeeter of The Help. She has a doctorate in English and was a brilliant professor in her time. She was also a black-balled Southern Belle and I strongly remember as a kid watching her endure a Junior League meetings at the Country Club with a look in her eye that told me she would have almost preferred to be on fire than to be there at that moment, “but a woman”, as she said, “had a duty to the community”, so she stayed.
Sadly, a bit more than two years ago she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, at 72, which is much younger than most, and we have watched the disease begin to take it’s toll on her despite the best abilities of my father, my family, and some strategically based calls I made calling in connections from around the world trying to find something to help. However, she may one day be part of the cure, but for her, she is on the wrong side of progress and we realize that now it’s just a matter of time as MOST of that woman I described above has already left the planet, though there are occasional glimpses.
The reason she was mentioned so much in this blog was due to the fact that I always did, and still do, believe that she knew about me fucking Thumper on the side. This was because she would throw some loaded questions out to me, such as, “and just how is your married bisexual friend in Minnesota doing? And that sweet wife of his, how is she?” or my favorite, “Are you getting what you need out of your relationship with your friend?” or her very direct questions to Axel such as “when Drew travels, especially North, do you get to see anyone special, you know, for drinks and things?” The first time she asked him that I believe she had a specific reason, but when she saw that he turned purple, white, and a bit blue all at the same time as those words registered in his mind, his reaction likely caused her to ask him similar things over and over again just to get a giggle or two. In reality, whether she did/does know or not was irrelevant to the fact that I was taking away an endorsement of sorts, from her, with, at least in my head, a “you go live your life and fucking have fun in the process” type of takeaway. I mean, in reality who doesn’t want their mother to endorse an outside of non romantic boyfriend without working genitals due to the fact that they have been locked by his wife type relationship? I mean, really, don’t we all want that?
However, these were not JUST the reasons I would talk about her here either as through aging, and then the disease, glimpses of my parent’s sex life has leaked with things said from her like “well, your father always liked it when I was mean to him” or the casual threats, clouded in dementia, about spanking him when he had forgotten something threatened as recently as two months ago at Thanksgiving. These things, added to other comments like “well, you father always liked a good threesome” and “I don’t know why he pretends to make decisions” have made me think that my Dad was and is a submissive to my Mother in sex and in life.
In looking back, I don’t actually remember my Dad making many decisions at all about where we went to school, where we vacationed, and how they paid their bills. As a kid, ATM’s were a new thing and I distinctly remember an argument they had where he had not been giving her his receipts and “balancing his allowance”. These are things that were just normal to me and never caused me to pause as that is just how it was and, frankly, how I preferred it because she was always the parent I would go to if I needed anything. In addition to these things, I was a sneaky, nosey child and always remember finding a whip under her side of the bed and him having a box with some restraints, plugs and other items that looked primitive to me, even thirty years ago. As they aged, they made no bones about discussing the fact they had an active sex life, but, again in hindsight, she talked and he just silently acknowledged. Even as he approached 80 years old, he was able to go to many femdom websites, and some bisexual ones too, which is a fact Axel and I know quite well as he was able to get there, but never able to easily get out and we’d often have to avert our eyes while trying to release a MacBook with a frozen OS or delete the pic of the gagged man with the small Asian woman brandishing a paddle that he had somehow managed to save as wallpaper to both his MacBook and iPhone. Please know, these are not things I am judging either of them on and, when not actually thinking about the fact that they are my parents and these are acts they would do together while naked, I was pretty damn proud of him for still having the appetite at his age.
I say all those things as a background because now, the man who allegedly deferred every decision to his allegedly dominant wife is now finding himself absolutely paralyzed as he has to make the ultimate decision of when enough is enough and when he has to stop trying to take care of every minute part of her because the time has come that she needs to live in a memory care facility for HIS health and not just hers. This is now a reality based on several things that have happened over the holiday period as she rapidly advanced in her disease within a period of three weeks, but the biggest factor is the love of his life is now being mean to him, and not in the way I suspect he used to like it.
I am also not implying in ANY way that the decision to move a spouse away from home I ever easy regardless of which side of the leash said spouse was on, but the whole thing has made me wonder if in Dominant and submissive relationships is there a place where one needs to be taught to take control or be comfortable with it. The reality is that I am maybe just “romanticizing” the D/s aspects of this as a way of trying to come to my own terms with what is happening because I know my mother would have told him years ago that this was what was expected of him (again, in hindsight, she always used words like “expected” and “required” with him) when the time comes and that he is not failing her as a sub, a spouse, or as whatever it was they defined it to be.
For me, my approach to him has been very different than that of my sibling as she is taking the “it’s what is right” approach with him, while I have now started the “you realize you have not failed in your duties to Mom” approach with him, trying oddly to talk to the sub side of him without any creepiness because he is my father and/or that I am implying anything about the dynamics of their marriage to him. I know that in my own marriage, sex and kink aside, in the days after Ax’s accident and subsequent surgeries, it would not have mattered if he were my slave or I his, because my job was to protect him and us regardless, so maybe that is just what I am dealing with with the parents.
But, I just don’t know. This is a post I hope Ferns, Thumper, Mrs F and others will respond to from a Dominant female submissive male POV, and this is not specifically about my father but other ACTUALLY KNOWN submissive males and/or females, but does taking away the power in a relationship mean that it is not capable of returning when it needs to? or are after 50+ years is any dominant side dead? (again, in hindsight, never once in my life was I scolded by my father, it was always by my Mother). And, if so, how do we help these people when they are face to face with it?
For me, because of the switchiness of my personality, I think one should be able to pop up and do what is needed when assuming whatever role is necessary, but I am sure that doesn’t play like that in the end as I honestly think my father feels he is failing and is lost without Her direction.
In closing, there is really nothing that CAN be answered by this nor do I think any answer will change anything as this is likely me just processing on “paper” and going off into a little tirade as I am have spent my holidays touring memory centers and talking to old people. The one thing in ALL of this that does make me happy is that I kinda am proud to have continued to keep kink in the family and even though they would never know it or that I would ever tell them, the kink positive vibe my parents put out, regardless if intentional or not, made me strong, made me proud, and, despite some questioning here and there and what specifically it is, still makes me happy to be my perverted self.