Orally Yours?

It's never been a secret that I can take oral sex or leave it (on myself). Whether it's because my partners in the past just sucked at it (no pun intended), or there's just really something in me that doesn't care about it, I dunno. But it's never been high on my priority list, and if given a choice, I'd probably find something else I'd prefer to do.

While C enjoyed getting a blow job, he rarely if ever could get off on it. And he's not alone. I've heard the same complaint from various partners/friends over the years. For many men, it just doesn't *work* to get them to an orgasm. They enjoy it - the sensations are erotic and pleasurable, but it doesn't push them over the edge. For many men these days, it's just foreplay. Personally, I'm fine with that.

Not all men feel that way, mind you. There are still many that *can and *do get off with their cock in a nice warm mouth.

I have to wonder if it isn't less of a physical reason perhaps and more of a mental one. Physically this could be explained away by lips not being as hard/tight around the shaft as say - a hand - and if someone masturbates frequently (C did), maybe the 'sensation' simply wasn't enough. But mentally, perhaps head has become normal, and people simply don't find it nearly as 'dirty', and hence, not as much fun.

It's just all very interesting. I mean, it is, if you ponder this stuff as much as I do.

"Screaming Inside"

I dug into my closest last week and pulled out a couple copies of my book to take with me "out of town" this weekend. One is going to a friend who's kinky. The other is going to a friend who's literary. We'll see where I get the best impressions *grin

I thumbed through one copy of it Saturday night and while it makes me incredibly proud to have put together such a thick volume of BDSM verse, it also makes me a little sad that the company that published it went out of business, and if I want it republished, I have to shop it around.

For anyone who doesn't have a clue what I'm talking about, the book information is here (Screaming Inside by Kanthra Adaire). Again, as the publisher is out of business, the only remaining unsold copies may well be in my closet. I'd love to get motivated enough to republish it. I'd also like to add a volume of short stories to it. I have more than enough that are still unpublished to fill a book or two.

It also makes me sad because most of those poems were written during a very different part of my life, and I remember each and every feeling that was in play when each of those prose were written. It's not that I don't think I could ever get that back. It's just that I'm somewhat jaded these days, and I trust much less than I ever have in my life. Coming out of the relationships I've come out of in the last 13~ years, I can't fault myself on the trust issues. But I don't have to like them much either.

I didn't read them all all the way through, just picked bits and pieces of them to read. Some of them are rough, some sweet, some dripping with the kind of sexuality you only get from really sensual sex-scenes *grin*. Some of them are twisted, some evil, some downright wicked. But they are all me.

Or were, when I wrote them.

And despite the feelings I may or may not have about trust and faith and hope -- they are *all still me, somewhere.

I got a copy out for myself and put it next to my bed. Perhaps reading through so many years of my life again will inspire me.

Or at least tone the screaming inside down to a whimper *smile

Pack-Ratting Pays off sometimes...

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Spank a smile onto your face

So, I got pointed to an article about a study down in Australia that says that men who are involved in a relationship in which spanking plays a part are happier generally as people.

You can read the article here. Spanking fetishes make men happier - study

I found it very interesting. *smirk

There was a quote in particular that struck a chord with me.

People who engaged in the habit were more likely to be sexually adventurous in other ways, like trying anal sex and phone sex, looking at internet pornography or using sex toys.
“These are people for whom sex is a hobby,” Dr Richters said.

So I asked myself. Is sex a hobby for me? Even when I’m not having any?

You know, maybe it is. I always said that if I went back to school, I’d major in psychology with an emphasis in sexual behavior. Sex and all things related to sex fascinate me. I enjoy adult stores, I enjoy lingerie shopping. I read a lot of erotica and I write a lot of erotica. I call myself a kinky little bitch because there’s very little in the sexual arena that’s off limits for me. (I’ll try almost anything twice, just in case I missed something the first time …). As long as it doesn’t offend me physically, morally, legally or intellectually, chances are I’ll give it a shot.

I can call it a hobby though, because it doesn’t run my life. I don’t have sex just for the sake of having sex (well, not for many years anyway :p). Thinking about sex or fantasizing doesn’t keep me from having a normal life. I work, I have family, I have friends. I don’t spend hours looking for a “fix”. And while it’d be nice to be having more than I am, it’s not something I’m willing to risk my job, my family, or my mental health for.

I think the article is onto something about people who engage in activities other than straight vanilla sex being happier and more comfortable with themselves. When at some point in my twenties I accepted the fact that I wasn’t going to be satisfied with generic sex for the rest of my life, something inside me broke, and I felt better about the deviant little thoughts that crept into my head more and more. It’s not easy to accept it. But once I did, it really was freeing, as cliché as that sounds.

I’ve never really considered my sexual interest a hobby before. I wonder if there’s a tax write off for that….

Grading Curves

Contrary to popular belief, I do have interests outside d/s and sex /wink

I've spoken here often enough about my lap band. I belong to a couple of message boards for that subject, too. Most of the time, beyond talking about the trials and tribulations of learning to live with the band, there isn't much exciting to discuss, but recently a subject came up that relates to some of my other interests (sex), and I found the discussion interesting.

When you're 'bigger than normal' or 'bigger than society finds normal' (whatever), you're usually not thinking about things related to your body that women of 'normal size' would be thinking about. These things don't enter your mind. You know what your flaws are, and so does anyone else who looks at you dressed.

But as you get closer to normal size, and you feel pretty damn good dressed up, those other insecurities tend to creep in. If you've been heavy almost all your life like I have, there are not things you've ever had to worry about before. You may not have liked how you looked naked, but you had accepted it at least.

Once you get closer to your goal weight (I'm about 15 pounds from mine now), you start to notice a myriad of other things. (I'm not going to list or discuss them. I do have some things I keep personal :p). And those things lead to a whole new brand of insecurities.

"Why don't I look as good naked as I do dressed?"

The men on our board pretty much think we're crazy. Some of them are banded; some of them are spouses of banded women. But they all think that we've completely lost our minds feeling insecure about some of these issues.

Society tells us that to be attractive to men, we have to look like super models. Okay, rational women everywhere (me included) *know that this is total bullshit. Nine times out of ten, if *we are confident and comfortable with how we look, our weight, size, etc don't make a damn bit a difference to a man who finds us appealing. But those images creep in. And any woman in my situation who does not admit to feeling insecure about the issues that come from losing 100+ pounds is lying. I think that it's because we were SO far from it before, and now we're closer to it than maybe we've ever been, that those insecurities tend to peek out and poke us when we least want them to.

For instance, I've made no secret of my lingerie addiction. It's gotten much worse over the last year or so, as I've been able to buy much more 'normal' size lingerie. I love the stuff. I love how it feels, I love how it looks, I love the purpose of it, and the idea of what it will provoke *grin*. I've bought a lot of it recently. And bought it with confidence. Rationally, I know that no one expects me to look like the skinny little bitch that's modeling the stuff on the website. But irrationally, occasionally - I do expect that.

I have to remind myself that I feel awesome compared to what I was 2 years ago. I look better, I feel better, I'm healthier than I have ever been in my life. I am much more accepting of myself - flaws and all.

But there is still this tiny voice that comes into the back of my head ..... If I catch it fast enough, I just bash it over the head with a baseball bat and shut it up *grin*. And if I don't, I'm left with an uneasy feeling for a day or two.

The point is, I guess, that as is typical with most people, we are much harder on ourselves than anyone else would be on us. While I've gained a lot of ground in that respect, I'm still not to a point where I can say that I'm 100 percent happy with where I am.

But I'm at about 85 percent. And I'm pretty happy with a B. *smile*

Freak!

Ever notice that a significant amount of submissives are control freaks?

Yes, I am one, too about a lot of things in my life. My home, my finances, and most recently my diet.

What makes a control freak a good submissive?

We're damn tired of being in control of everything, and we're typically ready to give it up at the drop of a hat. At least, control over some things....

I know that there are a lot of dominants that are control freaks, too. And in most cases, it makes them studious and demanding Masters. But it occurs to me that many of them aren't as well. And those that consider themselves mostly sexually dominant aren't typically in the control-freak group.

(I should note here, and it should be obvious, that I do not consider control-freak to be a negative term, unless it's obviously risen to a pathological level of freakiness)

(I should also note that I do not consider a sexually dominant man to be less than a dominant man who exerts control outside the bedroom. Different, not equal, but not better or worse)

As a matter of fact, it's been my experience that most sexually dominant men (meaning those men who's dominance almost always revolves around sex, and very rarely makes an appearance outside of that area) are more likely to be neutral or even submissive outside of sexual interaction. They are "nice". They treat people with respect generally and are mostly polite and congenial. They may even be taken for a submissive male at first glance, because they don't wear a commanding aura of dominance on their sleeve. It's about taking control when *they want it, not when someone else wants it, or someone else things they *should take it. This is a bad match for someone who needs more than that. But for someone who's really only interested in being controlled in certain aspects of their life, it's a perfect fit.

For me, being in control of my health, finances and my diet are of utmost importance to me right now. Being so focused on some of those things is exhausting. So I'd be more than willing to give up control of some other parts of my life for periods of time, if for no other reason than to stop thinking about them so hard. That allows me to retain my freakiness and still get my need to submit fulfilled.

It's no secret that I over think everything. But when you're trying to decide what you really want in your life, it's nearly mandatory to do so. And as I sift through emails from the message boards I frequent, from prospective dominants, it's nice to be able to say - "that's not for me" and be done with it, instead of having to wade through the minutiae every time.

To Tie, or Not to Tie

Someone said to me recently (not a direct quote, I didn't write it down and my mind may not have been completely on it at the time *grin*), in discussing bondage, that for me it probably wouldn't be necessary. (What, implying that I am a good girl and do as I'm told? Blasphemer!)

Necessary, no probably not. I have been posed, positioned, directed and placed several times throughout my d/s explorations. Sometimes it's easier than others, and resisting the "Fight or flight" impulse tends to take all of my focus, depending on what's going on. Then again, I'm a big fan of having something to focus on. But it does leave little room for anything else.

There's also the added bonus of having a bit more mental dominance than simply being cuffed up to sit/stand/lay where I have to. Somehow being 'told' to do something - sometimes - has a different effect than being 'made' to do something.

I dunno. I like both, for different reasons. It's easier for me to talk myself out of mental bondage than it is physical bondage. It's a conscious choice with mental. You either do it, or you don't. Because I have the insane desire to please (and not disappoint) most of the time, the choice isn't really a choice, but it is.

Then again, I really do like the feel of something around my wrists. Rope, leather, hand.... *smirk. But that removes the choice (ok, yes, there's always a choice but if I'm there willingly, I'm there willingly, right?) and it gives me something to fight physically against instead of mentally.

We're back to the challenge again then.

I was at the Power Exchange in San Francisco one night with a very good friend of mine (and one of my favorite tops). I had taken him to a ZZ Top/Lynard Skynard concert in Oakland earlier that evening (having bought the tickets to take M before M and I split up), and on the way from his house to the concert, we'd had a discussion about the difference between topping and dominating. (If I've related this story already, I apologize). When asked directly what the difference was, I thought for a moment, and then explained it as -- if you're topping me, and I tell you I hate riding crops, you wouldn't use one. If you're dominating me, and I tell you I hate riding crops, you'd use one if you felt like it, whether I liked them or not. (Yes, you see this coming don't you?). We get to PE, and we're playing, with me bent over some sawhorse thing, unbound. I heard it pop behind me, and knew what he had in his hand. Yes, a fucking riding crop. He laughed. I laughed. And then he told me to stay still and hit me with it.

And I did stay still. Partially because he'd told me to, but also partially because I wanted him to "get" the difference. He was playing with his dom side, and I was happy to participate. Submitting to someone who wasn't quite sure if he was "there" or not was fun, and I wanted him to get the full experience of it.

(To be fair to him, he didn't use it that long, but he definitely understood the difference. And I played with him, as a dominating top many time after this)

Physical bondage for many people is more about ornamentation and looks than actual "no moving". It can easily serve both purposes, but I know many submissives who just enjoy being tied up because of how it looks and the mindset attained while the actual rope bondage is being put in place. For others, physical restraint is about being able to fight it, without it being dangerous. And yet others use it to simply not be able to fight, period.

Sometimes, the simple act of snapping on a pair of police issue hand cuffs is enough. (C had two sets of these *grin*). I spent many evenings watching TV just with those cuffs in place and nothing more. It definitely lends itself to headspace (mmmmm...headspace) and if the dominant is turned on by the bondage (C was), it's all good.

On the other hand, bondage is too much like work for some dominants. I know it was for M. He liked the look, but it was too much work for him to really want to get into it. It was easier for him to just say "stay" and have me do it.

It's a whole rainbow of stuff to consider, isn't it? A big old red/white/black and blue rainbow of choices and fun to have.

I am not infallible

I should say this. I'm not infallible.

And I do say this, because I got reminded of that recently.

I know I ramble on and on about using your common sense and keeping your guard up and not trusting too easily. And I get to do that. Because I'm been on the bad end of that stick before.

I got an email the other day on one of the message boards I visit. I'd seen him posting, but I wasn't entirely sure it was him because the state wasn't right. (omg people move!). But when I saw his name in my email box, before I opened it, I knew it was him.

He came to rescue me once out of a pretty hairy situation. I don't know how far he had to drive or how much notice he got, but I do know it was in the middle of the night, and my safe call contacted him. He came to pick me up, took me back to his house and put me on his sofa. I have never forgotten it. It was my first - and only - real lesson in "you get what you pay for" in meeting people online.

And that's probably why I *do ramble on and on about being safe and smart. Not everyone is going to get as lucky as I did. Not everyone is going to have a safe call who knows people who will drive across a state to pick you up in the dark of night, and then give you a sofa to sleep on.

So if you think I'm just typing to see my words in print, you're wrong. I know from which I speak. I am the lesson you don't have to learn yourself. I am your bad example.

I am not infallible.

But I'm damn cute /wink

(thank you, MH *smile*)

Challenge

I like a challenge.

Phsyical, mental, doesn't matter. I like to be pushed. I haven't always been that way. I'd say it's probably come about in the last ten years or so more than anything. And I think it comes from the fact that I haven't been.

My relationship with C was never really challenging. He expected very little, asked for next to nothing, and besides his Navy career being an emotional drain on both of us, there wasn't much of a challenge there. His interest in d/s waned so heavily by the time we actually got married that it wasn't even present for the last several years, beyond an occasional spanking (that I nearly always had to initiate). We'd occasionally talk about doing things, but when it came to actually doing them, there was always an excuse not to.

Anyway.

I'm not someone who flourishes in "easy land" when it comes to my sexuality. Lazy sex is fun sometimes, but it's not something I'd be satisified with long term. I want a challenge. I want to have to work for it. I want to struggle mentally or better yet physically. I want to do new things, try new things, experiment with old things with new twists. Not every time. But some of the time at least.

Maybe it goes back to being "taken". Re-reading what I've just written, I'm guessing that it does, to some extent at least. But it's more than that. It's the challenge; the ability to overcome, or to surrender to something I didn't know I wanted, or to let someone else *win for a change. To say - I do not always have to be right/come out on top/get my way.

That's not easy for me. C said many times in the course of 14 years "Say those three little words I want to hear" (which meant) "You were right." (and for some reason, I absolutely hated that with him, probably because he loved it so much). I've gotten better about that. I think as my security has grown from insecurity, my ability to admit failure, mistakes and defeat has risen proportionately. That's not to say that I give up without a fight though /smile

Or maybe it's because I don't struggle and challenge because I think I'm better. I struggle and challenge because it's fun to tease, torment, wrestle, and generally be a bit of a brat sometimes. And isn't that the biggest ingredient in a vivid and fulfilling sex life? Fun? If it ain't, it should be.

Yea, it's probably the fun /wink

The things that go on

....inside my head..... *smirk*

The idea of laying on the bed, my heels on the edge, wearing some trashy piece of lingerie, thigh high stockings, my knees apart, hips raised up off the mattress, my hand buried in my cunt - getting off, and being watched while watching him, naked, standing next to the bed, between my legs.
The idea of him pulling me up by one arm/hand to sit on the edge of the bed.
The idea of him stroking his cock right in front of my face.
The idea of his hand knotted into the back of my hair, and pulling me backwards when I try to take him into my mouth - and then pulling down on my hair so that my eyes go up to meet his.
The idea that he’s playing with his cock right in front of me, but isn’t going to let me help him....
.... just that he’s going to use my mouth to keep the sheets and my outfit from getting trashed.....
...and that he’ll pull me forward again right as he’s ready to cum and push my lips apart with his cock....
...and then push halfway into my mouth so that he can cum there, where it's wet, and warm....
...and that I'd swallow him, with my eyes wide and still looking up at his face because his grip on my hair is even tighter then....
...he’s not doing it because I'd enjoy that, necessarily....
... but doing it because it's filthy and objectifying and cheap....and to *remind me ultimately....
....that when it comes to sex....
...he can pretty much do what he wants....
...and regardless of whether I like *what he does or not....
....what gets me off is that he does. And that he does it ....
....because he want to.

There is no "Have to Be" for me

More and more, I see this topic come up on message boards and email lists. For some reason, it never used to be a big discussion point, but it's apparently become The Hot Topic.

"Do you have to be in love with someone/dating someone/sexually attracted to someone to submit to them?"

For me, the short answer is no.
The longer answer is... well, longer.

I've said previously that in my life, I've had two significant d/s relationships. In addition to those, I've had some shorter-term ones - with and without sexual interaction - and some that lasted a specified period of time (night, weekend, etc). Obviously, there is no question that submission for me without a relationship is *different than with one, but that's not to say that a relationship is necessary for me *to submit, and it's also not to say that that it's any less. It's just different, that's all.

Relationships are funny things. My friend R, who I was 'tethered' to (his word) for several months following my break up with M (for my own good, he says *wink), is just that - a friend. Had I met him before C and M (well, technically I did but he wasn't single), or had the planets aligned in a different way, it's possible that I'd be in a relationship with him, or would have been. But as it stands, while there's a great deal of sexual attraction on both sides of the relationship, we are at the base of it, just very close friends.

If I feel close to someone - in other words, I trust them to be vulnerable with them - then it doesn't really matter if I'm sleeping with them, dating them or even in love with them. It's about trust for me, not a commitment of any kind. Some of the best scenes I've had have been with friends that I trusted. To be honest, there's a relative release to that that's not as easy to accomplish when you're actually "in love" or "in a serious relationship" with someone. Not to say that there aren't things that are more possible while in a relationship - there are. But again, they're different things.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I do things differently or I think of things differently.

I prefer to think of it as unique~ /wink

Dammit

*sigh*

I so thought this was over for the year.

Disappointment

I dislike Pop Psychology books – you know, that trendy “self-help” stuff. I used to read a ton of it in my twenties and thirties and it rarely helped so now I avoid it like the plague.

But the other day I logged into my MySpace page to check a couple things, and on the login page, was a link to a book who’s name just – wow, smacked me up ‘long side the head.

“Life Doesn’t Begin 5 Pounds From Now.”

Yea. No shit, huh?

Anyway, I went to Border’s at lunch that day, and bought the book. As I suspected, it really didn’t sing to me once I’d spent the 12.95 for it – all but one quote, which was worth the drive to the bookstore and the price:

“Disappointing another to be true to yourself goes against our entire good-girl socializing and challenges us to really stick up for ourselves, often the last person we would ever defend. But if we don’t, who will?”

*smack

One of the things I used to think made me such a good submissive is the fact that I absolutely will do whatever it takes to avoid disappointing someone, no matter what the cost to myself. That’s *never healthy, I don’t give a rat’s ass who you are or what you are. The cost to ourselves isn’t singular. When we do that, we also force the people around us to pay for those mistakes/choices/decisions as well. How? By having to deal with us when we feel like absolute *shit for having made them.

I have absurdly high expectations of myself. I hold myself to very high standards behavior wise. As a perfectionist/Type-A chick, you’d expect that, yea? But the problem is, I expect other people to do the same. I hold everyone to those high, sometimes unreachable expectations. I expect other people to be as strict with themselves as I am with myself and that’s just unrealistic, and downright self-defeating. As such, I am often disappointed with people easily. And when I am disappointed with someone, I turn it back onto myself, and blame myself for thinking that whatever they did to disappoint me is my own fault.

For god’s sakes, it’s no wonder that I used to get so damn depressed so easily.

I was in a real funk last week. I haven’t been in one like that for a good six months and I’d gotten very complacent in feeling good. This one came out of nowhere and pretty much hit me like a ton of bricks. It took over and colored pretty much everything that was said to me in a six day period. I spent a good three evenings after work curled up on the couch zoned out in front of the TV (something I don’t really do anymore) feeling crappy with no energy and no enthusiasm for much of anything. I hate when I get like that. I know it, as I’m in it, and I want to get out of it, but I just can’t find that one thing that pushes me out.

It faded slowly over the weekend, and I’m feeling relatively normal (ha!) today. I’ve got some energy and some initiative (I’m writing, aren’t I?) and work went better.

As with anything else, I’m trying to still unlearn some bad habits (such as the high expectations, now that I’ve actually got a clear idea of what that entails). Difference is this week; I know I can do it.

My Tree

I moved to Wisconisin two and a half years ago. My folks live about 125 miles from me (now, before I moved in October, it was an even 100 miles), and I always take the same route to go see them.

I'd say in the past 2.5 years, I've passed this tree about 50 or so times.

I never fail to see it, and it never fails to make me smile. No matter what season, no matter if it's day or night. I always see it, and I always smile.

Driving there on Saturday for the weekend, I finally slowed down enough to snap a crappy picture of it out of my windshield with my phone.

I have no idea why I like this tree so much. It's very close to the road and it's all alone out there. But I just know I really really like this tree.

I get the same feeling about 20 miles east of Butte Montana on the interstate. I've only passed that way about 8 times, but it's the same feeling.

I'm not a tree-hugger nature freak, and never have been. But I guess it goes to show that something completely innocuous can affect us in different ways.