I made a commitment to myself many months ago.
It was about how I was going to handle my personal relationships - or rather - how I was not going to handle them.
In my 41 years on this planet, I have never been courted. I have fallen into easy relationships, or I have gone after ones that I have wanted in the past, but I'm not doing that anymore.
Nope, that's right. If you want me, the move is yours and you'd better make it, because I won't.
I struggle with that, make no mistake. Old habits die hard, and they are always lurking in the back of my mind, waiting to spring out at absolutely the wrong time.
I do my best to beat them down /wink.
I've been alone now for about 2 years. That's a pretty long stretch for me. Typically, I'd be out pounding the "pavement" so to speak, looking for someone to at least keep my bed warm.
But being picky has it's advantages, I'm thinking. And, to be honest, I'm not feeling any major "hurry up" urge to seek out "the next one." either. Of course it'd be nice to have someone, and my bed does get a might cold - but I've got some major new-found confidence in the last several months, and right now, that's keeping me plenty toasty /wink.
I went to Philadelphia this past weekend, to spend time with a group of people (mostly my "guild") from Everquest. Some that I've known for years, some I've not known as long. I had an absolutely amazing time, and I have to say that I looked better - and especially - I felt better than I have in Years. 2 years ago, I would not have made that trip. But so much has changed for me in that time, that I absolutely needed to go. And I'm so fucking happy that I did.
I am currently 35.2 pounds from my weightloss goal. Who'd have thought? It hasn't even quite been a year yet :) I'd love to be 30 pounds from goal when my "band-iversary" rolls around in 3 weeks, but we'll see. I'm damn happy being where I am.
It's all good. All of it.
Take advantage of whatever makes you smile today. The more you smile, the better you feel.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Conflicts
Listening to: Nickleback
All's well here. Trying to slow things down enough so that I can update a bit more often as well as take better care of some things that need taken care of.
I'm a conflict.
I'm a very logical person. That's what makes me good at my job. I like black and white, yes and no, stay and go. I like absolutes. I like rules. I dislike living in the grey and assumptions.
I'm also a very creative person, and somewhat ethereal, as you know from reading here.
These two things do not go together very well. Now that my work on Me has started winding down, those two parts of me have started to do battle for control. /sigh
It'll run it's course
I wonder who'll win :)
All's well here. Trying to slow things down enough so that I can update a bit more often as well as take better care of some things that need taken care of.
I'm a conflict.
I'm a very logical person. That's what makes me good at my job. I like black and white, yes and no, stay and go. I like absolutes. I like rules. I dislike living in the grey and assumptions.
I'm also a very creative person, and somewhat ethereal, as you know from reading here.
These two things do not go together very well. Now that my work on Me has started winding down, those two parts of me have started to do battle for control. /sigh
It'll run it's course
I wonder who'll win :)
Sunday, August 06, 2006
catch up!
It’s a lazy rainy Sunday morning. Let’s play catch up.
What’s going on with me: Well, work and lots of it. Writing when I can; I finished a brief outline on the book I’ve been working on for 2 years, hoping it will motivate me to start piecing together the bits and pieces I’ve written and filling in the missing stuff. I had a fill in the band, and met one goal, started working on another. Started a long arduous process of some much-needed dental work on my lower teeth. Been playing EQ and WoW sporadically.
I’m on the fourth book of the Song of Ice and Fire Trilogy by George RR Martin. I’m enthralled by series, and will be sad when I reach the end of this book.
I’m taking a long weekend at the end of this month to go visit friends in Philly.
My ex still hasn’t filed divorce papers. I’m beginning to wonder if he really wanted one as badly as he seemed to think /shrug. Time will tell I guess.
Do I have a love life? No. Do I want a love life? Not really, not right now. A sex life might be nice though ?
Okay, you’re caught up.
Maybe now I can get busy with some more fun stuff to write about ?
What’s going on with me: Well, work and lots of it. Writing when I can; I finished a brief outline on the book I’ve been working on for 2 years, hoping it will motivate me to start piecing together the bits and pieces I’ve written and filling in the missing stuff. I had a fill in the band, and met one goal, started working on another. Started a long arduous process of some much-needed dental work on my lower teeth. Been playing EQ and WoW sporadically.
I’m on the fourth book of the Song of Ice and Fire Trilogy by George RR Martin. I’m enthralled by series, and will be sad when I reach the end of this book.
I’m taking a long weekend at the end of this month to go visit friends in Philly.
My ex still hasn’t filed divorce papers. I’m beginning to wonder if he really wanted one as badly as he seemed to think /shrug. Time will tell I guess.
Do I have a love life? No. Do I want a love life? Not really, not right now. A sex life might be nice though ?
Okay, you’re caught up.
Maybe now I can get busy with some more fun stuff to write about ?
Saturday, July 29, 2006
What takes time
Okay, so I know I haven't updated this in weeks, and my deepest apologies for that. Work got me busy and stressed, and I've been distracting myself in (unfortunately) mostly non-sexual ways to disarm that.
I have, however, spent a great deal of time working on a story. A simple little story, that didn't start out to be any big deal, but, in the end, is 24 pages long and quite a lengthy exploration of mental dominance and submission. It was much harder to write than I imagined it would be, but in the end, I'm glad that I wrote it. It started as a conversation with a friend - and grew into a fantasy of mammoth proportions. I'll quote the first part below.
Hopefully, though, I'll get back to updating here more.
Working Title: The Suit
Copyright 2006, KA
All Rights Reserved
She knew the type.
Dressed as he was, he had to be a businessman. Maybe visiting from out of town, as she'd never seen him here before. The only word she could come up with to describer him, was sharp. He looked the type to want to tie a beautiful thin woman up in robes while she was wearing sexy lingerie and take pictures of her. Then maybe bend her over a table and fuck her quietly. He was neat-looking, clean and there was an aura of elegance around him that she couldn't ignore. Defintely not her type.
She looked down at her black jeans and red blouse. There was a scuff on her right boot from driving. Her long wavy blonde hair was lose and a little messy. She chided herself for judging him by his appearance, wondering how people would judge her by her dress.
She sat down at a table with some long-time munch acquaintances. Laughed a bit, chatted about work and people. But out of the corner of her eye, she kept seeing him, leaning against the bar and scanning the room as if he were waiting for someone. She met his eyes once, and smiled in a friendly manner, then when back to her conversation.
10 pm came, and with the man at the bar forgotten, she stood and said goodbye to her friends and walked out the small corner pub toward her car.
"Hello." A deep voice said, startling her
She whirled around to find the Suit, as she had unknowingly started calling him in her mind, standing behind her. "Oh. Hello. Something I can help you with?" She asked.
"Perhaps. Why don't you come to my hotel tomorrow night for a drink, and we'll find out." He held out what looked like 2 business cards.
She swallowed hard. It had been weeks since she'd had a play date, and although she was craving one, she was positive this man was not her type. She reached up and took the cards anyway, deciding that she could always call the hotel and cancel.
"Say thank you."
"Hm?" She asked, staring down at the cards in her hand.
"Say thank you." he repeated, his voice a little deeper.
"Oh." She looked up again at him, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry. Of course. Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow night." Before she could change her mind, she turned on her heel and walked quickly away.
Not my type, not my type, not my type, she repeated to herself as she managed to tame her wild mass of humidity induced curls into a pair of silver barrettes. This is a waste of a good Friday night, she thought and then laughed to herself. "And what?" she said aloud. "You had something better to do than go have a drink with a nice gentleman in a fancy hotel bar?"
She had dressed for him. Over the top of her expensive white lace bra and panties, she'd put on a cream colored blouse and a chocolate brown skirt that came past her knees. Thigh high hose and a pair of brown suede pumps would complete the outfit. Not too sexy, not too formal, but a lady-like outfit all the same. In his response to her email this morning (she'd taken the address off his card and asked him what time he'd like her to meet him), he'd told her to dress in an outfit befitting the meeting place. She'd only been in the hotel bar once, but she knew it wasn't a place for jeans and tshirts.
Her make-up complete, she walked back into the bedroom and stood before the full length mirror. Turning, she made sure that she looked presentable. "Why do I care so much?" she asked aloud. "I don't even know this guy, and he's not my type, and he's not going to give me anything that I want." Huffing at her reflection, she turned away from the mirror and picked up her shoes. "Maybe I just need something else to care about."
After turning her car over the valet, she strode confidently into the dimly lit lobby of the huge hotel. On the drive over, she'd convinced herself that a drink with a nice man and some intelligent conversation would be a good change for her from the guys that she typically dated, and that she intended to enjoy it for what it was. A drink and nothing more.
Stepping into the dark bar, she headed for a high stool near the bartender, and ordered herself a glass of white wine. The bartender smiled politely as he set the glass down in front of her, and wandered off, leaving her staring at her own reflection in the mirror behind. She purposefully turned herself away from the entrance, and busied her hands with the wine glass.
"Hello."
Taking a deep breath, she turned her stood around, a ready smile on her face. "Hello."
He cocked his head toward a dark corner of the bar, where a few high back booths were situated, and then offered his hand to help her down off the stool. "Sit there. I'll be with you momentarily." He picked her glass up off the bar and handed it to her, and then turned away.
Undaunted, she turned from him and walked over to the corner, and chose a booth. Pulling her skirt under her, she slid in and sipped her wine. Before she had set the glass back down, he appeared beside her, and slid into the other side.
"You chose well."
"Hm?"
"The outfit. It suits your hair and skin tone well." He had dressed nearly identically to how he was the night before. Black suit, white shirt, deep burgundy tie. "But the earrings are too big. Take them off."
Her eyes widened a bit at him, but without thinking, she reached up and slipped her beloved silver hoops out of her ears. She turned, to open her purse, but he reached out his hand for them. Reluctantly, she gave them to him.
"You can have them back later." He put them into the breast pocket of his suit, and patted it. "You won't need them for awhile."
Still unsmiling, she looked at him. His blue eyes had a bit of gold flecked into them, and they were smiling at her, as were his full lips.
"Nervous?" he asked.
"I wasn't."
"But you are now."
"Those are my favorite earrings."
"You don't trust me to hold them?"
"You have them, don't you?"
He laughed softly. "You have quite a mouth on you."
"Yes, I suppose I do."
"I don't like the word suppose. You either do, or you don't."
"Then, yes, I do." she raised an eyebrow at him.
"I don't like meek creatures."
"There's a lot you don't like." she said cheekily.
"There's a lot that I do like."
She leaned back in the booth, her arms crossed in front of her. She tilted her head and looked at him again. Last night, the only word she could come up with to describe him was sharp. It still seemed to be the perfect word.
"Like what?"
"Intelligence and wit, both of which you seem to have."
She nodded slightly, allowing herself to be a little arrogant. "And?"
He laughed softly at her again. "Aren't I supposed to be asking you these questions?"
"I don't know. Are you?"
"Enough with the cockiness." he said simply. "Do you know how much it does not suit you?"
She didn't answer.
"Confidence is one thing. I don't like insolence."
"More that you don't like." She mumbled softly.
"Better than you know what I don't like up front. Saves nasty surprises for you later on."
She looked him in the eye again. "Speaking of arrogance, you've already assumed that..."
"I don't think there's a question of that, is there?" he asked, picking up his drink and taking a healthy sip of it. "We both know you're coming upstairs with me."
"We do?"
"We do."
She looked down at the table again.
"I don't see any reason to beat around the bush. You're attracted to me. I'm attracted to you. You obviously saw something in me that lured you, as you don't appear to be the type of woman who's desperate for male attention. You want something from me, as I want something from you. Question is, are you willing to give it to get what you want."
She pictured herself tied up prettily in white rope, against her white lingerie, against her white skin. She liked bondage - loved it, actually - but there was more to it for her that that.
"You've already made assumptions about me, I can tell." he said quietly.
She nodded. "As you've likely made about me."
"Quite." He sipped his drink again, and pushed her wineglass closer to her, indicating she should take a drink. "So, tell me what it is that you're seeking. Pain?"
"Some."
"Humilation?"
"Some." she said quietly, looking around. There were people in the booth directly behind her.
"Bondage?"
She nodded, her eyes imploring him to keep his voice down.
"Sex? Oral? Anal?" he ignored her unspoken plea, and she felt herself go bright red. He smiled at her. "So pretty when you blush, my dear, but answer the question."
"Sex is sometimes a part of it, sure..." she said very quietly. "It doesn't have to be, but it is sometimes."
"It will be." He said firmly. "Explain your limits to me."
She groaned softly. "Couldn't we discuss this..."
"Here. Now."
Her cheeks burned. "Typical limits, I guess." she replied quietly. "Nothing that would land someone in jail or the hospital...."
"So, that's all then."
"Well..."
"I thought not." He tapped his fingers on the table. "Tell me."
"That's all my hard limits, but..." she hesitated. "There are things I don't do with people the first time I play with them..."
"Such as."
"Gags, for one." She swallowed hard. "Heavy pain..."
"And?"
She looked at him, frowning. "Couldn't we please talk about this..."
"Here. Now. Don't make me say it again."
She sighed heavily, and picked up her wineglass, draining it. "Anal sex on a first playdate is unacceptable. Other than those few things, I typically allow things to progress naturally."
He nodded, pleased. "Safeword?"
"On the first few dates, yes."
"Wineglass."
"Hm?"
"Your safeword is wineglass. And now that yours is empty, I think it's time we moved up to my suite."
"Wait." She said urgently. "You haven't told me anything about..."
He smiled and leaned back in the booth. "About what? Don't you already have your mind made up about me?"
Startled, she did not reply.
"You assume that you know what I like. You have, since your eyes first passed over me in the bar last night. I could see it on your face. Why don't you tell me what you believe my wants to be?"
"That's not fair."
"Oh? Why is that? You've pre-judged me. Why is it not fair that I know what you think?"
"But..."
"You don't like to be wrong."
She looked at him.
"You're a smart girl. The last thing you want is to have your instincts and your intelligence called into question."
"Maybe."
"Maybe is another word I do not like." he said simply.
She sighed again and crossed her legs under the table, an uncomfortable warmth spreading from her cheeks, down to her chest and beyond.
"You like to dance on the edge. I can see that silver glint in your eyes, I know it when I see it. You think I'm far too well-dressed and stiff to be able to take you there." He paused. "And you may well be right."
She remained silent, looking at the empty wineglass before her, willing it to be refilled.
"But you won't know for sure until you give me a spin, will you?"
"No."
"Then let's spin."
As soon as the elevator door closed behind them, he ran his hand up her back, and placed his paln against the back of her neck. She watched nervously as he pressed the button for the 22nd floor. He tightened his hand around the back of her neck just a bit, and remained silent. They rode up that way.
When the door opened, he nudged her with his hand, and she walked out in front of him. His hand stayed on her neck, guiding her down the long, lushly carpeted hallway, to a door at the opposite end. Without letting go of her, he slipped a keycard out of his jacket pocket and unlocked the door, leading her inside.
The room was light lowly with a few lamps in the background and appeared to her to be the living room of a large suite. She heard the door shut behind her and jumped a bit. There was a plain wooden chair in the center of the large expanse of space, and he led her to it.
"Sit." Taking his hand from the back of her neck, he turned and walked toward what she assumed was the kitchen area.
She sat down in the chair, it's hard back and seat supporting her firmly. She crossed her legs, and lay her purse on the lap. And waited.
He walked back into the room, carrying two glasses of what looked like ice water. She had expected him to have at least loosened his tie, or taken off his jacket while he was gone, but he had done neither, and for some reason, that disarmed her.
He set the glasses down on an end table, on two available coasters, and turned to look at her. "Uncross your legs." he walked toward her, and took her purse from her lap, laying it on the end table by the water glasses. "Cross your ankles to the side if you must, but do not cross your legs in front of me."
She did as he asked, reluctantly. For some reason, the move made her feel innately vulnerable, and she wasn't ready for that. Yet.
"You should have worn your hair up. I prefer it."
Blushing again, she stayed quiet and watched as he pulled a chair identical to her own across the room, and set it in front of her, leaving a space of about three feet between them. She almost felt as if she wanted to apologize, and the idea of it snapped her back to reality.
----
Nope, that's all you get! :)
I have, however, spent a great deal of time working on a story. A simple little story, that didn't start out to be any big deal, but, in the end, is 24 pages long and quite a lengthy exploration of mental dominance and submission. It was much harder to write than I imagined it would be, but in the end, I'm glad that I wrote it. It started as a conversation with a friend - and grew into a fantasy of mammoth proportions. I'll quote the first part below.
Hopefully, though, I'll get back to updating here more.
Working Title: The Suit
Copyright 2006, KA
All Rights Reserved
She knew the type.
Dressed as he was, he had to be a businessman. Maybe visiting from out of town, as she'd never seen him here before. The only word she could come up with to describer him, was sharp. He looked the type to want to tie a beautiful thin woman up in robes while she was wearing sexy lingerie and take pictures of her. Then maybe bend her over a table and fuck her quietly. He was neat-looking, clean and there was an aura of elegance around him that she couldn't ignore. Defintely not her type.
She looked down at her black jeans and red blouse. There was a scuff on her right boot from driving. Her long wavy blonde hair was lose and a little messy. She chided herself for judging him by his appearance, wondering how people would judge her by her dress.
She sat down at a table with some long-time munch acquaintances. Laughed a bit, chatted about work and people. But out of the corner of her eye, she kept seeing him, leaning against the bar and scanning the room as if he were waiting for someone. She met his eyes once, and smiled in a friendly manner, then when back to her conversation.
10 pm came, and with the man at the bar forgotten, she stood and said goodbye to her friends and walked out the small corner pub toward her car.
"Hello." A deep voice said, startling her
She whirled around to find the Suit, as she had unknowingly started calling him in her mind, standing behind her. "Oh. Hello. Something I can help you with?" She asked.
"Perhaps. Why don't you come to my hotel tomorrow night for a drink, and we'll find out." He held out what looked like 2 business cards.
She swallowed hard. It had been weeks since she'd had a play date, and although she was craving one, she was positive this man was not her type. She reached up and took the cards anyway, deciding that she could always call the hotel and cancel.
"Say thank you."
"Hm?" She asked, staring down at the cards in her hand.
"Say thank you." he repeated, his voice a little deeper.
"Oh." She looked up again at him, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry. Of course. Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow night." Before she could change her mind, she turned on her heel and walked quickly away.
Not my type, not my type, not my type, she repeated to herself as she managed to tame her wild mass of humidity induced curls into a pair of silver barrettes. This is a waste of a good Friday night, she thought and then laughed to herself. "And what?" she said aloud. "You had something better to do than go have a drink with a nice gentleman in a fancy hotel bar?"
She had dressed for him. Over the top of her expensive white lace bra and panties, she'd put on a cream colored blouse and a chocolate brown skirt that came past her knees. Thigh high hose and a pair of brown suede pumps would complete the outfit. Not too sexy, not too formal, but a lady-like outfit all the same. In his response to her email this morning (she'd taken the address off his card and asked him what time he'd like her to meet him), he'd told her to dress in an outfit befitting the meeting place. She'd only been in the hotel bar once, but she knew it wasn't a place for jeans and tshirts.
Her make-up complete, she walked back into the bedroom and stood before the full length mirror. Turning, she made sure that she looked presentable. "Why do I care so much?" she asked aloud. "I don't even know this guy, and he's not my type, and he's not going to give me anything that I want." Huffing at her reflection, she turned away from the mirror and picked up her shoes. "Maybe I just need something else to care about."
After turning her car over the valet, she strode confidently into the dimly lit lobby of the huge hotel. On the drive over, she'd convinced herself that a drink with a nice man and some intelligent conversation would be a good change for her from the guys that she typically dated, and that she intended to enjoy it for what it was. A drink and nothing more.
Stepping into the dark bar, she headed for a high stool near the bartender, and ordered herself a glass of white wine. The bartender smiled politely as he set the glass down in front of her, and wandered off, leaving her staring at her own reflection in the mirror behind. She purposefully turned herself away from the entrance, and busied her hands with the wine glass.
"Hello."
Taking a deep breath, she turned her stood around, a ready smile on her face. "Hello."
He cocked his head toward a dark corner of the bar, where a few high back booths were situated, and then offered his hand to help her down off the stool. "Sit there. I'll be with you momentarily." He picked her glass up off the bar and handed it to her, and then turned away.
Undaunted, she turned from him and walked over to the corner, and chose a booth. Pulling her skirt under her, she slid in and sipped her wine. Before she had set the glass back down, he appeared beside her, and slid into the other side.
"You chose well."
"Hm?"
"The outfit. It suits your hair and skin tone well." He had dressed nearly identically to how he was the night before. Black suit, white shirt, deep burgundy tie. "But the earrings are too big. Take them off."
Her eyes widened a bit at him, but without thinking, she reached up and slipped her beloved silver hoops out of her ears. She turned, to open her purse, but he reached out his hand for them. Reluctantly, she gave them to him.
"You can have them back later." He put them into the breast pocket of his suit, and patted it. "You won't need them for awhile."
Still unsmiling, she looked at him. His blue eyes had a bit of gold flecked into them, and they were smiling at her, as were his full lips.
"Nervous?" he asked.
"I wasn't."
"But you are now."
"Those are my favorite earrings."
"You don't trust me to hold them?"
"You have them, don't you?"
He laughed softly. "You have quite a mouth on you."
"Yes, I suppose I do."
"I don't like the word suppose. You either do, or you don't."
"Then, yes, I do." she raised an eyebrow at him.
"I don't like meek creatures."
"There's a lot you don't like." she said cheekily.
"There's a lot that I do like."
She leaned back in the booth, her arms crossed in front of her. She tilted her head and looked at him again. Last night, the only word she could come up with to describe him was sharp. It still seemed to be the perfect word.
"Like what?"
"Intelligence and wit, both of which you seem to have."
She nodded slightly, allowing herself to be a little arrogant. "And?"
He laughed softly at her again. "Aren't I supposed to be asking you these questions?"
"I don't know. Are you?"
"Enough with the cockiness." he said simply. "Do you know how much it does not suit you?"
She didn't answer.
"Confidence is one thing. I don't like insolence."
"More that you don't like." She mumbled softly.
"Better than you know what I don't like up front. Saves nasty surprises for you later on."
She looked him in the eye again. "Speaking of arrogance, you've already assumed that..."
"I don't think there's a question of that, is there?" he asked, picking up his drink and taking a healthy sip of it. "We both know you're coming upstairs with me."
"We do?"
"We do."
She looked down at the table again.
"I don't see any reason to beat around the bush. You're attracted to me. I'm attracted to you. You obviously saw something in me that lured you, as you don't appear to be the type of woman who's desperate for male attention. You want something from me, as I want something from you. Question is, are you willing to give it to get what you want."
She pictured herself tied up prettily in white rope, against her white lingerie, against her white skin. She liked bondage - loved it, actually - but there was more to it for her that that.
"You've already made assumptions about me, I can tell." he said quietly.
She nodded. "As you've likely made about me."
"Quite." He sipped his drink again, and pushed her wineglass closer to her, indicating she should take a drink. "So, tell me what it is that you're seeking. Pain?"
"Some."
"Humilation?"
"Some." she said quietly, looking around. There were people in the booth directly behind her.
"Bondage?"
She nodded, her eyes imploring him to keep his voice down.
"Sex? Oral? Anal?" he ignored her unspoken plea, and she felt herself go bright red. He smiled at her. "So pretty when you blush, my dear, but answer the question."
"Sex is sometimes a part of it, sure..." she said very quietly. "It doesn't have to be, but it is sometimes."
"It will be." He said firmly. "Explain your limits to me."
She groaned softly. "Couldn't we discuss this..."
"Here. Now."
Her cheeks burned. "Typical limits, I guess." she replied quietly. "Nothing that would land someone in jail or the hospital...."
"So, that's all then."
"Well..."
"I thought not." He tapped his fingers on the table. "Tell me."
"That's all my hard limits, but..." she hesitated. "There are things I don't do with people the first time I play with them..."
"Such as."
"Gags, for one." She swallowed hard. "Heavy pain..."
"And?"
She looked at him, frowning. "Couldn't we please talk about this..."
"Here. Now. Don't make me say it again."
She sighed heavily, and picked up her wineglass, draining it. "Anal sex on a first playdate is unacceptable. Other than those few things, I typically allow things to progress naturally."
He nodded, pleased. "Safeword?"
"On the first few dates, yes."
"Wineglass."
"Hm?"
"Your safeword is wineglass. And now that yours is empty, I think it's time we moved up to my suite."
"Wait." She said urgently. "You haven't told me anything about..."
He smiled and leaned back in the booth. "About what? Don't you already have your mind made up about me?"
Startled, she did not reply.
"You assume that you know what I like. You have, since your eyes first passed over me in the bar last night. I could see it on your face. Why don't you tell me what you believe my wants to be?"
"That's not fair."
"Oh? Why is that? You've pre-judged me. Why is it not fair that I know what you think?"
"But..."
"You don't like to be wrong."
She looked at him.
"You're a smart girl. The last thing you want is to have your instincts and your intelligence called into question."
"Maybe."
"Maybe is another word I do not like." he said simply.
She sighed again and crossed her legs under the table, an uncomfortable warmth spreading from her cheeks, down to her chest and beyond.
"You like to dance on the edge. I can see that silver glint in your eyes, I know it when I see it. You think I'm far too well-dressed and stiff to be able to take you there." He paused. "And you may well be right."
She remained silent, looking at the empty wineglass before her, willing it to be refilled.
"But you won't know for sure until you give me a spin, will you?"
"No."
"Then let's spin."
As soon as the elevator door closed behind them, he ran his hand up her back, and placed his paln against the back of her neck. She watched nervously as he pressed the button for the 22nd floor. He tightened his hand around the back of her neck just a bit, and remained silent. They rode up that way.
When the door opened, he nudged her with his hand, and she walked out in front of him. His hand stayed on her neck, guiding her down the long, lushly carpeted hallway, to a door at the opposite end. Without letting go of her, he slipped a keycard out of his jacket pocket and unlocked the door, leading her inside.
The room was light lowly with a few lamps in the background and appeared to her to be the living room of a large suite. She heard the door shut behind her and jumped a bit. There was a plain wooden chair in the center of the large expanse of space, and he led her to it.
"Sit." Taking his hand from the back of her neck, he turned and walked toward what she assumed was the kitchen area.
She sat down in the chair, it's hard back and seat supporting her firmly. She crossed her legs, and lay her purse on the lap. And waited.
He walked back into the room, carrying two glasses of what looked like ice water. She had expected him to have at least loosened his tie, or taken off his jacket while he was gone, but he had done neither, and for some reason, that disarmed her.
He set the glasses down on an end table, on two available coasters, and turned to look at her. "Uncross your legs." he walked toward her, and took her purse from her lap, laying it on the end table by the water glasses. "Cross your ankles to the side if you must, but do not cross your legs in front of me."
She did as he asked, reluctantly. For some reason, the move made her feel innately vulnerable, and she wasn't ready for that. Yet.
"You should have worn your hair up. I prefer it."
Blushing again, she stayed quiet and watched as he pulled a chair identical to her own across the room, and set it in front of her, leaving a space of about three feet between them. She almost felt as if she wanted to apologize, and the idea of it snapped her back to reality.
----
Nope, that's all you get! :)
Friday, June 09, 2006
And it's cloudy but good
Good walking weather today for lunchtime. Which is a good thing. I've been walking 2 miles in 30 minutes 3 days a week for a couple weeks now, since I can't seem to get on the cycle at home anymore. It's a nice break in my day, and good execise...
...and it must be doing something for me, cause... This morning, I put on a pair of washed-in-hot-water size 16 jeans~
*dance*
...and it must be doing something for me, cause... This morning, I put on a pair of washed-in-hot-water size 16 jeans~
*dance*
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Balance
As I continue to struggle (and not in a hot sexy way, either) to find a balance, I tried to sort of shut off the sexual part of myself long enough to sort things out.
Apparently, self has decided that's enough of *that*.
My mind is ticking a mile a minute again, about all sorts of things related to "giving it up" *chuckle*. I have a small list to write about, hopefully will be re-embarking on my ramble-journey soon~
Apparently, self has decided that's enough of *that*.
My mind is ticking a mile a minute again, about all sorts of things related to "giving it up" *chuckle*. I have a small list to write about, hopefully will be re-embarking on my ramble-journey soon~
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Remember this?
Heavy door (I knew it would be)
Opening into a quiet, dark entryway (I knew it would be, too)
I can’t even hear a clock ticking it’s so quiet.
He said wait.
So here, I’ll wait.
It only takes him two steps (he was close, and I didn’t know it)
To get to me, one hand (warm hand, long fingers)
To wrap around my face, and cover my mouth
The other entwining itself in long blonde hair
Pulling and pushing my head backwards at the same time, he says.
“Hello, whore.”
===
Here's a little more....
"You're late." he growled, as he pushed her up against the cold plaster wall. Pressing his right leg between hers, he kicked her feet apart and pushed his hip into the small of her back to hold her there.
She tried to speak, to tell him that she wasn't late, that he wasn't even supposed to be here yet, but his fingers pressed down harder against her lips, and all that eeked out was a moan.
He pulled roughly on her hair, and then let go, reaching down to grasp her wrists tightly into his fist. "Not what you had in mind, is it?" he sneered, pulling her hands behind her back. "You didn't really think I asked you here just to meet you, did you?" he laughed evilly, and then leaned down and whispered gruffly in her ear. "You're going to get exactly what you came for though, I assure you."
She heard a cold metal clink and then felt the steel of the cuff around her right wrist. She started to protest, but as soon as the first sound tried to slither out between his fingers, he pulled her wrists up sharply. "No one said you had a choice in this matter, did they? No? That's right, you don't." Before he had finished speaking, the other cuff was secured on her left wrist, and she was bound.
Her mind started to race, her body shivering in response to the cold metal cuffs and the chill of the wall. She hadn't dressed for cold, her short black skirt felt obscene now, when only an hour ago, it had felt as normal as jeans. The thin white blouse, tucked into the skirt, with three buttons left undone felt less proper now, and more like an invitation for something much darker than a meeting with a new friend and a glass of wine.
With one hand free now, he let her wrists drop down behind her, and with his hand still covering her mouth, stepped back to look at her. With her right cheek pressed up against the wall, long blonde hair dripping down her back, she looked more than a little scared, and he was pleased with that. Fear is a great motivator, he thought to himself as he reached around her, laying his forearm against the front of her hips and pulling her ass backwards, forcing her feet to follow, and positioning her perfectly.
"I'm going to let go of your mouth, whore, but it's not an invitation to talk. Clear?" He watched, pleased, as she shook her head slightly, and he removed his hand from her lips. "You talk when I say you talk. Move when I say you move. And do what I tell you to do." he laughed deeply. "You screwed yourself this time, slut. No safecall. No one knows you're even here. Trusting little thing. " he tsked. "Maybe you won't be so much after tonight."
Dropping his hand to the hem of her short skirt, he flipped it up over her ass, and immediately raked his fingernails roughly down her right cheek. "Since when does a whore get benefit of underwear?" he asked, not expecting an answer. "Not that it covers much. It certainly isn't enough to soak up the smell of how fucking wet you are already. Regardless, no matter how sexy you thought it was, it's in the way, and it's got to go." She felt the cold steel of a pocket knife blade against the skin of her ass, and then felt him pull the lacey red thong up her crack. She moaned and pressed her cheek up against the wall harder, as he slit the back of the panties and pulled them roughly away from her.
She drew in a sharp breath when she heard the knife hit the floor. Every noise, every small sound had her knees shaking. She was completely at his mercy now; no amount of regretting her decision would pull her out of that, not even the knowledge that she knew what he said about her smell was accurate; she was wet. Her mind had nowhere to go with that fact.
"What I'd like to do is shove you down onto your knees and fuck those bright red lips, but I think there are a few other things that need tending to first." He said, his voice now calm and almost relaxed. "Don't you fucking move an inch though." he slapped her ass sharply. "Not one inch."
Her eyes shut tightly, she heard his footsteps on the wood floor as he walked away from her. She held her breath, and waited.
Opening into a quiet, dark entryway (I knew it would be, too)
I can’t even hear a clock ticking it’s so quiet.
He said wait.
So here, I’ll wait.
It only takes him two steps (he was close, and I didn’t know it)
To get to me, one hand (warm hand, long fingers)
To wrap around my face, and cover my mouth
The other entwining itself in long blonde hair
Pulling and pushing my head backwards at the same time, he says.
“Hello, whore.”
===
Here's a little more....
"You're late." he growled, as he pushed her up against the cold plaster wall. Pressing his right leg between hers, he kicked her feet apart and pushed his hip into the small of her back to hold her there.
She tried to speak, to tell him that she wasn't late, that he wasn't even supposed to be here yet, but his fingers pressed down harder against her lips, and all that eeked out was a moan.
He pulled roughly on her hair, and then let go, reaching down to grasp her wrists tightly into his fist. "Not what you had in mind, is it?" he sneered, pulling her hands behind her back. "You didn't really think I asked you here just to meet you, did you?" he laughed evilly, and then leaned down and whispered gruffly in her ear. "You're going to get exactly what you came for though, I assure you."
She heard a cold metal clink and then felt the steel of the cuff around her right wrist. She started to protest, but as soon as the first sound tried to slither out between his fingers, he pulled her wrists up sharply. "No one said you had a choice in this matter, did they? No? That's right, you don't." Before he had finished speaking, the other cuff was secured on her left wrist, and she was bound.
Her mind started to race, her body shivering in response to the cold metal cuffs and the chill of the wall. She hadn't dressed for cold, her short black skirt felt obscene now, when only an hour ago, it had felt as normal as jeans. The thin white blouse, tucked into the skirt, with three buttons left undone felt less proper now, and more like an invitation for something much darker than a meeting with a new friend and a glass of wine.
With one hand free now, he let her wrists drop down behind her, and with his hand still covering her mouth, stepped back to look at her. With her right cheek pressed up against the wall, long blonde hair dripping down her back, she looked more than a little scared, and he was pleased with that. Fear is a great motivator, he thought to himself as he reached around her, laying his forearm against the front of her hips and pulling her ass backwards, forcing her feet to follow, and positioning her perfectly.
"I'm going to let go of your mouth, whore, but it's not an invitation to talk. Clear?" He watched, pleased, as she shook her head slightly, and he removed his hand from her lips. "You talk when I say you talk. Move when I say you move. And do what I tell you to do." he laughed deeply. "You screwed yourself this time, slut. No safecall. No one knows you're even here. Trusting little thing. " he tsked. "Maybe you won't be so much after tonight."
Dropping his hand to the hem of her short skirt, he flipped it up over her ass, and immediately raked his fingernails roughly down her right cheek. "Since when does a whore get benefit of underwear?" he asked, not expecting an answer. "Not that it covers much. It certainly isn't enough to soak up the smell of how fucking wet you are already. Regardless, no matter how sexy you thought it was, it's in the way, and it's got to go." She felt the cold steel of a pocket knife blade against the skin of her ass, and then felt him pull the lacey red thong up her crack. She moaned and pressed her cheek up against the wall harder, as he slit the back of the panties and pulled them roughly away from her.
She drew in a sharp breath when she heard the knife hit the floor. Every noise, every small sound had her knees shaking. She was completely at his mercy now; no amount of regretting her decision would pull her out of that, not even the knowledge that she knew what he said about her smell was accurate; she was wet. Her mind had nowhere to go with that fact.
"What I'd like to do is shove you down onto your knees and fuck those bright red lips, but I think there are a few other things that need tending to first." He said, his voice now calm and almost relaxed. "Don't you fucking move an inch though." he slapped her ass sharply. "Not one inch."
Her eyes shut tightly, she heard his footsteps on the wood floor as he walked away from her. She held her breath, and waited.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Snippets
It's been raining for the better part of 9 days now.
We had one sunny day in 9 days, and my allergies were so bad, I could barely see. But right now, I'd take that over this pissing rain.
It doesn't depress me. I lived in Portland, Oregon for nearly two years. You sorta get used to it *chuckle*. But it does make me unmotivated and unenergized, which I dislike.
I'd love to see some sunshine. Send me some?
-----
A friend of mine from Alt has been struggling with his morality lately. It's sad to watch, but it's a learning experience for him, and while he detests hurting people (and himself I'm sure), I think that his recent choices will be for the best in the long run, whether he ends up with his former girlfriend or not. If everything were easy, we'd all be rich and well-fucked, eh?
----
Speaking of well-fucked.....
........... I'm not. And it's starting to make me a little silly~ You have been warned.
----
Tuesday! The Jan Brady of Weekdays!
*snicker*
----
Speaking of speaking of well-fucked, it's my own fault I'm not. I think I've gotten 25 emails this past week on the vanilla aff site, only one of which actually fit what my profile is looking for, and he wasn't really all that appealing for some reason. The Alt side is even less effective lately. /shrug And I cant' say I'm putting much effort in either. Between work and my downtime - family and my home - my free time is not all that abundant. Some people understand that. And some people send nasty emails when they don't get a response in a timely manner. Well, sorry. Typically, my pussy is not the first thing on my list to get satisfied lately. (how unfortunate). I have other things that need doing - things for myself, things to do with my health and well-being. It's about choices, apparently. And while it's not my first choice to continue to be celibate *eeep*, it's what there is right now.
----
I've recently discovered that I'm very easy to spoil. Also, that it doesn't take all that much to make me feel good, warm, and happy.
I guess that does make me easy, huh.
/eye
Whatever. It might be easy to turn my head, but to keep it turned, you better be willing to put in the work~
----
My boss did the nicest thing yesterday. I'd taken my car to Midas for new front brakes before he got to work. When the shop called and gave me the estimate, he asked how much it was, and then told me that the company would pay for it; they could deduct it and I couldn't - plus, I was due a bonus.
Man. Did that ever make my entire month.
Feeling appreciated is one of the best feelings there is. (That's a hint to you gents who wonder about such things)
----
I'm feeling a need to write some fiction - soon. I think I'll make Memorial day a 4 day weekend. I haven't had a day off since my Dad's surgery in February - I think I'm due :) Then maybe I can actually get some writing done.
We had one sunny day in 9 days, and my allergies were so bad, I could barely see. But right now, I'd take that over this pissing rain.
It doesn't depress me. I lived in Portland, Oregon for nearly two years. You sorta get used to it *chuckle*. But it does make me unmotivated and unenergized, which I dislike.
I'd love to see some sunshine. Send me some?
-----
A friend of mine from Alt has been struggling with his morality lately. It's sad to watch, but it's a learning experience for him, and while he detests hurting people (and himself I'm sure), I think that his recent choices will be for the best in the long run, whether he ends up with his former girlfriend or not. If everything were easy, we'd all be rich and well-fucked, eh?
----
Speaking of well-fucked.....
........... I'm not. And it's starting to make me a little silly~ You have been warned.
----
Tuesday! The Jan Brady of Weekdays!
*snicker*
----
Speaking of speaking of well-fucked, it's my own fault I'm not. I think I've gotten 25 emails this past week on the vanilla aff site, only one of which actually fit what my profile is looking for, and he wasn't really all that appealing for some reason. The Alt side is even less effective lately. /shrug And I cant' say I'm putting much effort in either. Between work and my downtime - family and my home - my free time is not all that abundant. Some people understand that. And some people send nasty emails when they don't get a response in a timely manner. Well, sorry. Typically, my pussy is not the first thing on my list to get satisfied lately. (how unfortunate). I have other things that need doing - things for myself, things to do with my health and well-being. It's about choices, apparently. And while it's not my first choice to continue to be celibate *eeep*, it's what there is right now.
----
I've recently discovered that I'm very easy to spoil. Also, that it doesn't take all that much to make me feel good, warm, and happy.
I guess that does make me easy, huh.
/eye
Whatever. It might be easy to turn my head, but to keep it turned, you better be willing to put in the work~
----
My boss did the nicest thing yesterday. I'd taken my car to Midas for new front brakes before he got to work. When the shop called and gave me the estimate, he asked how much it was, and then told me that the company would pay for it; they could deduct it and I couldn't - plus, I was due a bonus.
Man. Did that ever make my entire month.
Feeling appreciated is one of the best feelings there is. (That's a hint to you gents who wonder about such things)
----
I'm feeling a need to write some fiction - soon. I think I'll make Memorial day a 4 day weekend. I haven't had a day off since my Dad's surgery in February - I think I'm due :) Then maybe I can actually get some writing done.
Normal
Someone I've come to really like on the blogs recently made a post that I enjoyed - part of it was explaining that just because she's submissive does not mean she's "broken".
That is the typically view of us, you know - from the vanillas. That we're broken mentally, that we need to be taken charge of and beaten because something inside us is not mentally stable. "Normal people don't want those things."
Well, here's a news flash. The divorce rate is over 50 percent in this country. If we all wanted white bread/2.5 kids/house in the suburbs, I think that rate'd be much lower.
What is normal, anyway? Missionary position on Saturday nights? (Not that I'm knocking the missionary position mind you, I'm personally quite fond of it.). No porn, no mastubation, no kink, no anal or oral sex. Is that what people think is normal?
I meet someone now who hasn't had anal or oral sex and I think they're odd :/
Those of us who like to add a bit of spice (ok, maybe more than that. Maybe a couple harbenos) to our lives and fulfill the things that we seek from our soul seem to be more the norm in this country now, rather than the "once a week, don't mess up my hair" crowd.
We are not broken (** Some of us are. I have to add that. There are mentally unstable people in every walk of life, and you will find them here, too**). We are open to the possibility that perhaps the universe gave orgasms such a great feeling because they're supposed to be fun.
Thank you, Universe.
That is the typically view of us, you know - from the vanillas. That we're broken mentally, that we need to be taken charge of and beaten because something inside us is not mentally stable. "Normal people don't want those things."
Well, here's a news flash. The divorce rate is over 50 percent in this country. If we all wanted white bread/2.5 kids/house in the suburbs, I think that rate'd be much lower.
What is normal, anyway? Missionary position on Saturday nights? (Not that I'm knocking the missionary position mind you, I'm personally quite fond of it.). No porn, no mastubation, no kink, no anal or oral sex. Is that what people think is normal?
I meet someone now who hasn't had anal or oral sex and I think they're odd :/
Those of us who like to add a bit of spice (ok, maybe more than that. Maybe a couple harbenos) to our lives and fulfill the things that we seek from our soul seem to be more the norm in this country now, rather than the "once a week, don't mess up my hair" crowd.
We are not broken (** Some of us are. I have to add that. There are mentally unstable people in every walk of life, and you will find them here, too**). We are open to the possibility that perhaps the universe gave orgasms such a great feeling because they're supposed to be fun.
Thank you, Universe.
Get it~
My horoscope said yesterday, in part: "Okay, there's nothing quite as frustrating as someone who doesn't get it. Still, attempt to work around other's - ahem - blind spots rather than losing your temper, engaging in feloniuous assault or attempting to change anyone's mind."
Well, there's some reality if I ever saw it.
I wish more people got *me*.
I don't dwell anymore on the fact that I'm not your typical vanilla midwest girl. I used to. But I don't anymore, because what's the point? I am who I am, I want what I want, I feel what I feel - and you can either accept it, or run screaming.
But scream softly because you give me a headache.
Well, there's some reality if I ever saw it.
I wish more people got *me*.
I don't dwell anymore on the fact that I'm not your typical vanilla midwest girl. I used to. But I don't anymore, because what's the point? I am who I am, I want what I want, I feel what I feel - and you can either accept it, or run screaming.
But scream softly because you give me a headache.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Mental Pictures
I try really hard not to think too much about why I want what I want anymore. In the past, when I've given it too much thought, it's like I'm trying to talk myself out of it, and that leads to frustration.
But occasionally, something will pop into my head that I have to ponder.
I made mention the other day of finding a few new kink folks in EQ (which always makes my day), and one lovely lady sent me a few pictures of herself in hook suspension. They're gorgeous pictures, but I found myself looking at them and wondering..... What would make someone want to do that?
Then I started to think about all the things on my own play list, and tried to track them down to where the desire for them comes from.
The first one I was able to find an answer to was The Belt. It's not getting hit with a belt that I find erotic, it's watching a man pull it through the loops of his pants, knowing his intent with it, his eyes never leaving yours, his face grim, his stance firm. /fans self. I know where that comes from. I think I've told the story here before about how when M first came to Wyoming to visit me, we had spent some time with C as well. One evening while the three of us were together, I got lippy with C, and when M didn't do what C thought he should do (get me under control - HA), C stood up and took his belt off, as if he were going to come at me with it (with M sitting right there - M, being my dom at the time, C being my former dom at the time). C told me, after M went back to California, that he wasn't right for me. Turns out he was right, but that's neither here nor there. What makes The Belt desireable to me now is that I can still see C standing up out of the chair to pull his off, with M right there. I've carried that image for 10 years. I probably always will.
There are other things on the list that I'm sure if I thought long and hard about, I could come up with a mental picture similarly to relate them to my life. But nowhere in there can I find a reason to be suspended by hooks *grin* I'll leave that for the ones who enjoy it.
But occasionally, something will pop into my head that I have to ponder.
I made mention the other day of finding a few new kink folks in EQ (which always makes my day), and one lovely lady sent me a few pictures of herself in hook suspension. They're gorgeous pictures, but I found myself looking at them and wondering..... What would make someone want to do that?
Then I started to think about all the things on my own play list, and tried to track them down to where the desire for them comes from.
The first one I was able to find an answer to was The Belt. It's not getting hit with a belt that I find erotic, it's watching a man pull it through the loops of his pants, knowing his intent with it, his eyes never leaving yours, his face grim, his stance firm. /fans self. I know where that comes from. I think I've told the story here before about how when M first came to Wyoming to visit me, we had spent some time with C as well. One evening while the three of us were together, I got lippy with C, and when M didn't do what C thought he should do (get me under control - HA), C stood up and took his belt off, as if he were going to come at me with it (with M sitting right there - M, being my dom at the time, C being my former dom at the time). C told me, after M went back to California, that he wasn't right for me. Turns out he was right, but that's neither here nor there. What makes The Belt desireable to me now is that I can still see C standing up out of the chair to pull his off, with M right there. I've carried that image for 10 years. I probably always will.
There are other things on the list that I'm sure if I thought long and hard about, I could come up with a mental picture similarly to relate them to my life. But nowhere in there can I find a reason to be suspended by hooks *grin* I'll leave that for the ones who enjoy it.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Bleh
So, I brought my tennis shoes to work with week with the intention of walking at lunch.
Monday, it was rainy. Tuesday it was rainy. Today, my allergies are in high gear. Ugh.
I will do it though. I got my claritin. The weather for the rest of the week looks good. I need to do it, as I have no motivation to exercise at night anymore. That, and I hate TV and my dvd player is busted and I've yet to go get a new one.
*chuckle*
In other news... well, there isn't any.
I did find a few new kinky folks in EQ *grin*. That's always fun. Did buy a few new shirts today, cute ones, in a smaller size again. The scale is moving again. I'm nearly ready for summer.
My eyes are glassy today from the allergies, so this is all I'll be writing. It's all I can do right now to focus on the screen to work.
Sunshine! :)
Monday, it was rainy. Tuesday it was rainy. Today, my allergies are in high gear. Ugh.
I will do it though. I got my claritin. The weather for the rest of the week looks good. I need to do it, as I have no motivation to exercise at night anymore. That, and I hate TV and my dvd player is busted and I've yet to go get a new one.
*chuckle*
In other news... well, there isn't any.
I did find a few new kinky folks in EQ *grin*. That's always fun. Did buy a few new shirts today, cute ones, in a smaller size again. The scale is moving again. I'm nearly ready for summer.
My eyes are glassy today from the allergies, so this is all I'll be writing. It's all I can do right now to focus on the screen to work.
Sunshine! :)
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Affection
I miss having someone to be affectionate with.
By nature, I'm a very affectionate person. Not slobbery in public or overly-attentive or anything. I'm just very affectionate with people I like, and I'm not afraid to show it.
I miss that more than sex sometimes. I miss it more than spankings or play. While my cats currently reap the benefits of me having no one else to be affectionate with (beyond friends and family), even they get a little sick of me sometimes /wink.
After M and I split in CA, I spent 13 months alone for the most part. But I had great friends - some of whom I cuddled with, some of whom I slept with *grin*, and there was always a place for me to go when I felt down and needed it. I dunno why I picked Wisconsin, knowing that I knew no one here, and that it would be hard. Maybe I did it on purpose. For the most part, it served it's purpose. It gave me that time alone to sort out the why's and wherefore's in my life, and allowed me to settle back into myself and disengage from all the destructive or counterproductive things I had allowed into my life.
But now that I've completed most of that work (not all, we are never done...), I find myself wanting to reach out and be surrounded by people again.
Course, then there are other times that I'm a total recluse and prefer the company of my coffee and my peace and quiet. /shrug
By nature, I'm a very affectionate person. Not slobbery in public or overly-attentive or anything. I'm just very affectionate with people I like, and I'm not afraid to show it.
I miss that more than sex sometimes. I miss it more than spankings or play. While my cats currently reap the benefits of me having no one else to be affectionate with (beyond friends and family), even they get a little sick of me sometimes /wink.
After M and I split in CA, I spent 13 months alone for the most part. But I had great friends - some of whom I cuddled with, some of whom I slept with *grin*, and there was always a place for me to go when I felt down and needed it. I dunno why I picked Wisconsin, knowing that I knew no one here, and that it would be hard. Maybe I did it on purpose. For the most part, it served it's purpose. It gave me that time alone to sort out the why's and wherefore's in my life, and allowed me to settle back into myself and disengage from all the destructive or counterproductive things I had allowed into my life.
But now that I've completed most of that work (not all, we are never done...), I find myself wanting to reach out and be surrounded by people again.
Course, then there are other times that I'm a total recluse and prefer the company of my coffee and my peace and quiet. /shrug
Change
Someone asked the question on a message board I visit: "If you could switch to the other gender for 24 hours, what would you do during that time?"
My answer: "Nothing. I don't want to switch."
With all of the heartbreak I've had in my life, with all of the problems -- I'm happy being a woman. I've never had penis envy; never wanted to be a man for "just one day". I fit right where I am, I like it here, I'm happy here.
Am I completely happy in my own skin? No, I don't think anyone ever truly is. But I'm much happier than I was a year, five years, ten years ago. And of course I'd like perky tits and a tan - maybe some better highlights in my hair - but basically, I'm happy with what I have. It's served me well and gotten me this far. Why in the world would I want a cock of my own when I much prefer them attached to men?
There's nothing wrong with liking the idea of switching it out for one day, but don't expect me to get in that line. I'm of the mind that - with me personally - a cock belongs on the inside, not on the outside /grin
My answer: "Nothing. I don't want to switch."
With all of the heartbreak I've had in my life, with all of the problems -- I'm happy being a woman. I've never had penis envy; never wanted to be a man for "just one day". I fit right where I am, I like it here, I'm happy here.
Am I completely happy in my own skin? No, I don't think anyone ever truly is. But I'm much happier than I was a year, five years, ten years ago. And of course I'd like perky tits and a tan - maybe some better highlights in my hair - but basically, I'm happy with what I have. It's served me well and gotten me this far. Why in the world would I want a cock of my own when I much prefer them attached to men?
There's nothing wrong with liking the idea of switching it out for one day, but don't expect me to get in that line. I'm of the mind that - with me personally - a cock belongs on the inside, not on the outside /grin
Interogation
Something about an interogation scene intrigues the hell out of me. Maybe because I'm always been pretty much safe in my own little world (well, physically safe for the most part), and the thought of this ever really happening to me for real is remote at best. But the idea of being tired in a chair and tortured for information just ...mm. Yea, I'd like to try that.
See, it's a challenge. I rarely back down from a challenge. More than anything, I'd like to see how long I could go without cracking. How much I could withstand before giving in. As I've said before, frankly, my limits haven't really ever been pushed hard, and my mind cries out to be pushed to that wall.
As I wrote that last paragraph it occured to me: There is more than one way to torture someone.
Physical pain is the obvious here, but there are others. In a setting with someone you were sexual with, you could be sexually tortured; brought to the edge of orgasm repeatedly until you simply couldn't take it anymore. In a setting with someone you were mentally and emotionally safe with, you could be teased and/or guilted into speaking your truth. Those two came to mind, though I'm sure there are others. It all depends on which edge you like to play on.
Or a combination of the three. Hmmm....yup, still intriguied. Moreso now maybe :)
See, it's a challenge. I rarely back down from a challenge. More than anything, I'd like to see how long I could go without cracking. How much I could withstand before giving in. As I've said before, frankly, my limits haven't really ever been pushed hard, and my mind cries out to be pushed to that wall.
As I wrote that last paragraph it occured to me: There is more than one way to torture someone.
Physical pain is the obvious here, but there are others. In a setting with someone you were sexual with, you could be sexually tortured; brought to the edge of orgasm repeatedly until you simply couldn't take it anymore. In a setting with someone you were mentally and emotionally safe with, you could be teased and/or guilted into speaking your truth. Those two came to mind, though I'm sure there are others. It all depends on which edge you like to play on.
Or a combination of the three. Hmmm....yup, still intriguied. Moreso now maybe :)
Attraction
What is it that attracts, or doesn't attract us to some people?
And why is that so utterly important?
For example, of the few dominants I'm chatting with, I only find one of them attractive. The others I am not physically attracted or (not repelled either, just - ok), but I'm enjoying talking with them, and might even play with them - but it would never go further than that.
It irritates me for some reason that I feel that way. I mean, ok, it shouldn't. This is the way human nature works. If you are not physically compelled by someone, you aren't - even if you like their mind, heart and soul. This can be, of course, overcome (by the later 3 things) but is it ever truly 100% overcome?
I should stop trying to figure out nature. It never ends up well.
I remember way back in the days of Le Chateau Dungeon on AOL (!), and how people explained away the need for attraction by saying that you get to know someone online - mind and soul - and the body didn't matter. Boy were those people surprirsed when, after "getting to know" someone for six months lead to a real time meeting that ended in disaster because one person wasn't remotely attracted to the other.
Fact is, it does matter.
Now, granted, you can find something attractive in almost anyone you meet, and sometimes, this is enough. However, we all have preferences. Some state them up front, some don't. I try to, but I don't always hit the mark either.
How important are they, really? Will they make or break it for you?
To be completely honest here, if someone doesn't meet at least one of my physical preferences, I'm likely to not continue contact with them. Does that make me a snob? Okay, if it does, fine. But having lived in this world for 41, I know enough about myself to know that there has to be something - some physical spark - between people, or it doesn't go very far.
Call it what you want. It's honest.
And why is that so utterly important?
For example, of the few dominants I'm chatting with, I only find one of them attractive. The others I am not physically attracted or (not repelled either, just - ok), but I'm enjoying talking with them, and might even play with them - but it would never go further than that.
It irritates me for some reason that I feel that way. I mean, ok, it shouldn't. This is the way human nature works. If you are not physically compelled by someone, you aren't - even if you like their mind, heart and soul. This can be, of course, overcome (by the later 3 things) but is it ever truly 100% overcome?
I should stop trying to figure out nature. It never ends up well.
I remember way back in the days of Le Chateau Dungeon on AOL (!), and how people explained away the need for attraction by saying that you get to know someone online - mind and soul - and the body didn't matter. Boy were those people surprirsed when, after "getting to know" someone for six months lead to a real time meeting that ended in disaster because one person wasn't remotely attracted to the other.
Fact is, it does matter.
Now, granted, you can find something attractive in almost anyone you meet, and sometimes, this is enough. However, we all have preferences. Some state them up front, some don't. I try to, but I don't always hit the mark either.
How important are they, really? Will they make or break it for you?
To be completely honest here, if someone doesn't meet at least one of my physical preferences, I'm likely to not continue contact with them. Does that make me a snob? Okay, if it does, fine. But having lived in this world for 41, I know enough about myself to know that there has to be something - some physical spark - between people, or it doesn't go very far.
Call it what you want. It's honest.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Push
Every once in a great while, I get a hankerin' to be pushed hard. No, I don't mean put your hand on my back and shove me, I mean push me to the absolute limit of my sanity.
I've talked before many times about being pushed past small limits. That's not what I'm talking about here. I'm not talking about baby steps. I'm talking about hard core, to the edge pushing.
As I said - every great once in awhile. (Typically, on a day to day basis, I'm low maintenance. I don't need to *see* your dominance, I just want a taste of it, to know it's still there. And that's easy to feed me~)
Honestly right now, it wouldn't probably take near as much as it has in years past. I'm completely out of practice, so to speak, and it's honestly been well over 2 years since I even had a hand spanking (don't pity me; this was my choice - to wait until my life and mind were in a better place)
I wonder, sometimes (like today) why that craving comes to me out of the blue, and why I still get all antsy and jumpy when I think about it enough.
It would take a long time for me to feel comfortable enough with someone that I was not in a full time relationship with to allow this to come to fruition. I know that about myself. And I know that I'd have to be completely comfortable with that person. So it's not like I'm going to be experiencing this anytime soon. So why then, does it tend to come to be, on a warm but cloudy day here, that I need that?
I have a pretty good idea of why. I've been writing and thinking and writing some more over the last several weeks about BDSM. It's been pounding on my brain like a good deerskin flogger on my back.
I've had horrible luck so far with people from Alt. The few I thought were perhaps going to work out haven't, for one reason or another (scheduling conflicts and busy schedules seem to be the biggest reason lately), and as I continue discussing and communicating with a few of them, I find myself less and less hopeful about finding someone that I really click with. I'll admit it; I got very lucky meeting C when and where I did, even though the d/s part of our relationship never did flourish to where we believed it would go. And even M, though he took me for quite the ride, was a great learning experience for me (as I know I was for him), and I went further than I ever thought I would. I have gotten much better about not taking these little defeats personally. And I haven't even started to give up yet. But perhaps my frustration is based in the fact that I'm ready - more ready than I was a month ago, more ready than I was a year ago, more ready than I was a week ago. And now that I stand ready, I stand alone.
So, today, I'll push the "pushing" out of my head again. And concentrate on being myself, working toward some goals, and finding someone that I can start to get to know in such a way as to get comfortable.
Acceptance, as always is the key, I believe. And I've accepted where I am in my life right now, even if I don't like the part of me that craves so much today.
I've talked before many times about being pushed past small limits. That's not what I'm talking about here. I'm not talking about baby steps. I'm talking about hard core, to the edge pushing.
As I said - every great once in awhile. (Typically, on a day to day basis, I'm low maintenance. I don't need to *see* your dominance, I just want a taste of it, to know it's still there. And that's easy to feed me~)
Honestly right now, it wouldn't probably take near as much as it has in years past. I'm completely out of practice, so to speak, and it's honestly been well over 2 years since I even had a hand spanking (don't pity me; this was my choice - to wait until my life and mind were in a better place)
I wonder, sometimes (like today) why that craving comes to me out of the blue, and why I still get all antsy and jumpy when I think about it enough.
It would take a long time for me to feel comfortable enough with someone that I was not in a full time relationship with to allow this to come to fruition. I know that about myself. And I know that I'd have to be completely comfortable with that person. So it's not like I'm going to be experiencing this anytime soon. So why then, does it tend to come to be, on a warm but cloudy day here, that I need that?
I have a pretty good idea of why. I've been writing and thinking and writing some more over the last several weeks about BDSM. It's been pounding on my brain like a good deerskin flogger on my back.
I've had horrible luck so far with people from Alt. The few I thought were perhaps going to work out haven't, for one reason or another (scheduling conflicts and busy schedules seem to be the biggest reason lately), and as I continue discussing and communicating with a few of them, I find myself less and less hopeful about finding someone that I really click with. I'll admit it; I got very lucky meeting C when and where I did, even though the d/s part of our relationship never did flourish to where we believed it would go. And even M, though he took me for quite the ride, was a great learning experience for me (as I know I was for him), and I went further than I ever thought I would. I have gotten much better about not taking these little defeats personally. And I haven't even started to give up yet. But perhaps my frustration is based in the fact that I'm ready - more ready than I was a month ago, more ready than I was a year ago, more ready than I was a week ago. And now that I stand ready, I stand alone.
So, today, I'll push the "pushing" out of my head again. And concentrate on being myself, working toward some goals, and finding someone that I can start to get to know in such a way as to get comfortable.
Acceptance, as always is the key, I believe. And I've accepted where I am in my life right now, even if I don't like the part of me that craves so much today.
On Top
I dislike being on top during sex, for a couple reasons.
Firstly, because my legs are too long( I am 5'9, with an inseam of 36"), and if the gentleman isn't at least a good 5-6" taller than I am, my knees end up under his armpits or higher, and it's extremely uncomfortable on my knees. My first husband was 6'4" tall, and it worked all right with him, because his upper body was long.
But I still didn't care much for it, because
Secondly, unless there is a very strong aura of dominance coming from the man, it makes me feel like I'm in control of the situation, and it's a rare occasion that I enjoy that feeling. (not never, just rarely)
I do enjoy teasing, and being in control sometimes, no question. C did not seem to enjoy that at all (though he did like me on top, because in his words, sometimes he felt "lazy"). I fancy myself somewhat of a seductress at times, and teasing a man until he's absolutely at his wit's end is a treat. I cart around a lot of sexual energy, and this is a great way to relieve it. It also brings to mind (and feeling) a courtesan or a highly paid whore, both of which can be a great role to slip into. And lastly, I enjoy it because once you have taken a man to the end of his rope, so to speak, he has no choice but to flip you around and take you on *his* terms, which is extremley fulfilling to me.
Not to mention hot.
*grin*
Firstly, because my legs are too long( I am 5'9, with an inseam of 36"), and if the gentleman isn't at least a good 5-6" taller than I am, my knees end up under his armpits or higher, and it's extremely uncomfortable on my knees. My first husband was 6'4" tall, and it worked all right with him, because his upper body was long.
But I still didn't care much for it, because
Secondly, unless there is a very strong aura of dominance coming from the man, it makes me feel like I'm in control of the situation, and it's a rare occasion that I enjoy that feeling. (not never, just rarely)
I do enjoy teasing, and being in control sometimes, no question. C did not seem to enjoy that at all (though he did like me on top, because in his words, sometimes he felt "lazy"). I fancy myself somewhat of a seductress at times, and teasing a man until he's absolutely at his wit's end is a treat. I cart around a lot of sexual energy, and this is a great way to relieve it. It also brings to mind (and feeling) a courtesan or a highly paid whore, both of which can be a great role to slip into. And lastly, I enjoy it because once you have taken a man to the end of his rope, so to speak, he has no choice but to flip you around and take you on *his* terms, which is extremley fulfilling to me.
Not to mention hot.
*grin*
The Wrong End of the Cane
I've talked about canes before here. About how I used to use them extensively when I topped in California, and how I learned from one of the best how to use them properly, care for them, and make masochistic little girls sing sweetly for them.
I think I've also mentioned that I've never actually had one used on me.
There are probably several reasons for that. I bought my first cane while I was with M. It came from Stormy Leather in San Francisco, and was a beautiful rattan nightmare.No fancy wrapping on the end, no liquid latex or paint - just a sturdy slightly curved piece of danger. I bought it with the intent of it being used on me, but that never happened, as M developed a non-waivering crush on his single tail, and that was pretty much the only thing that got used. So when we split, and I started topping more frequently, I started using that cane, and several others that I had purchased.
C is not into canes. Actually, about the only toys he ever really did use seriously on me were paddles. He did play with the floggers a bit in California, but that was mostly just trying them out. Hence, the four inces of dust on my toybag. (not that I'm complaining, mind you. There really aren't many toys I like better than others - pain is pain to me.)
While learning to use my whippy little canes, I spoke to many of the women that I topped with them, and asked why they liked them. For masochists, this was an easy answer: Intense pain. For the submissives, it was not so easy, but most of them reacted as I imagine I would - "I'll take it for you, if you like to give it."
As I've said repeatedly, I'm not a masochist. I don't get off on pain for pain's sake. Pain for me is a challenge, and a way for me to show submission, but it is not sex itself. That's not to say that I don't enjoy pain *during* sex *grin*.
I would, at some point, like to experience the cane. But not in a play-only situation. I do understand the two-fold pain that accompanies a cane strike (as it has been explained to me), and as it's not something I would consider casual play, it's not something that I would enjoy in that situation. However, if it's someone that I had played with more than once, and had become comfortable and trusting with, yes, I would like to try it - just once. This would be, I think, a true act of submission for me - and allow me to overcome the sense of fear I have at being at the "wrong end" of the cane.
I think I've also mentioned that I've never actually had one used on me.
There are probably several reasons for that. I bought my first cane while I was with M. It came from Stormy Leather in San Francisco, and was a beautiful rattan nightmare.No fancy wrapping on the end, no liquid latex or paint - just a sturdy slightly curved piece of danger. I bought it with the intent of it being used on me, but that never happened, as M developed a non-waivering crush on his single tail, and that was pretty much the only thing that got used. So when we split, and I started topping more frequently, I started using that cane, and several others that I had purchased.
C is not into canes. Actually, about the only toys he ever really did use seriously on me were paddles. He did play with the floggers a bit in California, but that was mostly just trying them out. Hence, the four inces of dust on my toybag. (not that I'm complaining, mind you. There really aren't many toys I like better than others - pain is pain to me.)
While learning to use my whippy little canes, I spoke to many of the women that I topped with them, and asked why they liked them. For masochists, this was an easy answer: Intense pain. For the submissives, it was not so easy, but most of them reacted as I imagine I would - "I'll take it for you, if you like to give it."
As I've said repeatedly, I'm not a masochist. I don't get off on pain for pain's sake. Pain for me is a challenge, and a way for me to show submission, but it is not sex itself. That's not to say that I don't enjoy pain *during* sex *grin*.
I would, at some point, like to experience the cane. But not in a play-only situation. I do understand the two-fold pain that accompanies a cane strike (as it has been explained to me), and as it's not something I would consider casual play, it's not something that I would enjoy in that situation. However, if it's someone that I had played with more than once, and had become comfortable and trusting with, yes, I would like to try it - just once. This would be, I think, a true act of submission for me - and allow me to overcome the sense of fear I have at being at the "wrong end" of the cane.
Shhh.
I've never been gagged. Never even had someone put their hand over my mouth. It's something that I'll admit, I'm curious about.
I mean, look at my handle. I have been told that I make the most "delightful" noises, both during play and sex. C was a very aural (of or relating to the ear or to the sense of hearing ) person, the more noise I made, or the more I spoke, the better he enjoyed it. I've been told that I scream, whimper, moan, curse, beg and generally make my "feelings" about whatever's happening to me known. Some of it, I remember, some I don't. I guess it depends on how lost I am in it.
The closest I've ever come to being gagged was an early morning fuck with M, while his daughters were in their rooms getting ready for school. There was nothing over my mouth, but with a few words of warning, and his instruction to be silent, I was as effectively gagged as I could have been. And he had the fingernails scratches on his back to prove it *grin*. (well, that energy had to go somewhere.....). And it was quite a powerful orgasm I had that morning, but I've no idea if it was from the silence, or the newness of it, or the excitement radiating off him as he tried something new. As far as gags go, that was pretty effective (considering we'd been together for about 2 years at that point).
As for real gags? I dunno. Ball gags are out for me, bits probably too because of the trouble I've had with my teeth. A bandana perhaps.. Duct tape? Ouch. I'm rather fond of my full lips, and would prefer not to have them ripped off kkthx :P I actually did buy a couple of bandanas and put them in my toybag, in case this ever came up. *blows 4 inches of dust off the toybag and sneezes*
I have been chatting with a local gent who enjoys bondage, so - who knows - maybe I'll get to find out :)
I mean, look at my handle. I have been told that I make the most "delightful" noises, both during play and sex. C was a very aural (of or relating to the ear or to the sense of hearing ) person, the more noise I made, or the more I spoke, the better he enjoyed it. I've been told that I scream, whimper, moan, curse, beg and generally make my "feelings" about whatever's happening to me known. Some of it, I remember, some I don't. I guess it depends on how lost I am in it.
The closest I've ever come to being gagged was an early morning fuck with M, while his daughters were in their rooms getting ready for school. There was nothing over my mouth, but with a few words of warning, and his instruction to be silent, I was as effectively gagged as I could have been. And he had the fingernails scratches on his back to prove it *grin*. (well, that energy had to go somewhere.....). And it was quite a powerful orgasm I had that morning, but I've no idea if it was from the silence, or the newness of it, or the excitement radiating off him as he tried something new. As far as gags go, that was pretty effective (considering we'd been together for about 2 years at that point).
As for real gags? I dunno. Ball gags are out for me, bits probably too because of the trouble I've had with my teeth. A bandana perhaps.. Duct tape? Ouch. I'm rather fond of my full lips, and would prefer not to have them ripped off kkthx :P I actually did buy a couple of bandanas and put them in my toybag, in case this ever came up. *blows 4 inches of dust off the toybag and sneezes*
I have been chatting with a local gent who enjoys bondage, so - who knows - maybe I'll get to find out :)
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