Dec 312008

Exposing Myself

Sunday January 6, 2008 – 01:57am

Dear Sir,

The commitment we have made to each other requires me to be transparent to You. i have pledged to share openly and freely with You my thoughts and feelings, wants and desires. And tonight, i am home while You are out, because i could not do this. The punishment is not just the taking away of a play opportunity, which is always a pleasant time, but it is also a night when i could be at Your feet, serving You, pleasing You.

i cannot think of a time when i did not answer You when You asked me directly. But, i have been hesitant to volunteer too many things, to make myself vulnerable. You demand of me: Ask for what you want, what you need. But, like prayer, the answer may well end up being “no,” so it almost seems not saying them is the smarter, the safer choice.

How can i say to You the scary things i can hardly say or admit to myself? How can i say to You that i want You to want me as a woman, to desire all of me as i do You? When You show such restraint and resolve, my mind races, telling me with certainty that i am not attractive to You, that i might even actually repulse You. If You chose it, You would not be taking what i freely offer.

How can i say i want and need to have something to remind me every day of You, something i can see or feel or hear or touch, without feeling embarrassed, feeling greedy. A song? A piece of jewelry, well placed? Something that marks and reminds me of my place. i am grateful for what i do have, so much more than many, but i am a basic girl in some ways too.

i was worried about You this week. When You drove back from the snow and ice, i was concerned when i did not hear from You upon Your return. And when You did return, when You did come back online, Your first words did not go to me, but to a relative stranger, leaving me feeling hollow and confused. i would rather hear from You, “i will speak to you later girl” then to simply see You online, and for You to not acknowledge me in any way.

i understand You have a family, a career, that demand so much of You. And, i don’t want to be just another demand or a drain. You want me to be an amusement and a distraction, but i need to be able to tell You good and bad things both if i am to be honest with You, and not feel (whether or not You’ve actually expressed this to me explicitly) that i must censor and sort through what i can share.

So i am alone tonight. But, i have also learned the lesson that i am not alone. You did not release me because i have made a mistake. You are teaching me, training me, in Your ways and in ways to be a better person overall. You haven’t given up on me… even as i am afraid, and want to give up on myself, on us, to take the easy way. Yet i haven’t given up either, turned to those that would give me everything i want easily. i continue to crave Your Collar, Your Leash, both literal and figurative, and to feel it grow tighter and tighter. Please pull it… pull me… hold me.

With the desire to please,
Your joy

If i want to know, i need to ask. If i need You to know, i need to tell You.


Getting to Know You (50 Things)

Sunday March 2, 2008 – 01:35am

Learn 50 things about your friends, and let them learn 50 things about you!

Please take a moment to share some or all of your responses, with me, publicly or privately. i’d love to get to know you better!

  1. Do you like blue cheese? Yes. But it’s a taste i’ve grown into.
  2. Have you ever smoked heroin? Yucky! i’ve barely been a social smoker, and not a very good one at that 🙂
  3. Do you own a gun? No. Don’t need or want to, especially with curious kids in the house. But, i used to really enjoy archery when i was a camper and as a camp counselor.
  4. What flavor do you add to your drink at Sonic? At QuikTrip, i’ll make my own Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper, but at Sonic they add wayyy too much flavor for me. Blech!
  5. Do you get nervous before Doctor appts? Not usually, but i’m not looking forward to an upcoming mammogram.
  6. What do you think of hot dogs? i don’t want to know what’s in there – please don’t tell or remind me. But, i’ve also grown to appreciate skinless dogs… yummy!
  7. Favorite Christmas song? Silent Night reminds me of my mom. The Little Drummer Boy is one of my favorite messages. Handel’s Messiah is my favorite to sing – any time of year 🙂
  8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Diet Coke; warm caffeinated drinks (e.g. coffee) are wasted on me.
  9. Can you do push ups? A few…
  10. What do you order at Starbucks? A sweet treat, and water or juice.
  11. What’s your favorite piece of jewelry? A pearl (real?) necklace from my grandmother that i never wear.
  12. Favorite hobby? Reading, trying not to let the internet get ahead of me.
  13. How do you eat your eggs? i’ll eat them, but don’t like them especially. Deviled or boiled maybe, if very cold. Otherwise, bring out the salsa and/or cheese so they no longer taste like eggs 🙂
  14. Do you have A.D.D.? No. But i can get distrac..huh?
  15. What’s one trait that you hate about yourself? i’m impatient – with myself most of all.
  16. Middle name? Dianne
  17. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment… a) i should be sleeping…
    b) Now what is wrong with Yahoo?
    c) How many questions in this list again…?
  18. Name 3 things you bought yesterday:
    a) Clothes from kids consignment sale
    b) Diet Coke when eating lunch with kids at school
    c) Cheese dip – yummy treat for when they get home
  19. Three drinks you regularly drink? a) Diet Coke
    b) Diet Dr Pepper (and Cherry Vanilla)
    c) Water
  20. Current worry right now? Having enough _______ to go around… (read: time, energy, money, etc)
  21. Current hate right now? My Ya-hell email and its naughty ways.
  22. Favorite place to be? With friends, family, sitting at the feet of those i adore.
  23. How did you bring in the New Years? Party at the in-laws, listening to my nephew blow a horn in my ear, tuning out… wishing i were anywhere but there…
  24. Where would you like to go? Toronto, to my mom’s, to a planetarium
  25. Name three people who will complete this? 3 People who want me to learn more about them 🙂
  26. Do you own slippers? No.
  27. What shirt are you wearing? Just a white tback tank
  28. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets? i haven’t slept on them, but i bet i would as i tend to get so hot when i sleep.
  29. Can you whistle? Yes, but not near as well as my son.
  30. Favorite color?(s) Depends on the day; i’m asked every single day by my daughter lol
  31. Would you be a pirate? No, but i’d like to be a wench, ravaged by one giggles
  32. What songs do you sing in the shower? Show tunes, whatever comes to mind that reflect my mood.
  33. Favorite girl’s name? Julie would have been my next daughter’s name. or maybe Kate.
  34. Favorite boy’s name? Harrison? Sean? Jonathan?
  35. Whats in your pockets right now? No pockets, but in my bra (closest i have to a pocket usually) is my phone.
  36. Last thing that made you laugh? Will Farrell.
  37. Best bed sheets as a child? Patchwork look set, with a blanket my mom made for me.
  38. Worst injury you’ve ever had? Not so much an injury, but significant scars from surgery when i was 14.
  39. Do you love where you live? Nice neighborhood and area is great. Actual house is too tiny.
  40. How many TV’s do you have? 1, +1 for gaming in the kids’ room.
  41. Who is your loudest friend? Um… probably myself? 🙂
  42. How many dogs do you have? None
  43. What are you thrilled about right now? That spring is coming! Yeah!
  44. Do you have a crush on someone? Sure … and a few girl crushes too 🙂
  45. What is your favorite book? i don’t re-read books, but currently devouring Laurell K. Hamilton’s Merry Gentry series.
  46. What is your favorite candy? Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups… yummy
  47. Favorite Sports Team? Dallas Cowboys – ala the 70s 🙂
  48. What song do you want played at your funeral? Bring Me to Life (Evanesence)
  49. What were you doing 12 AM last night? Went to bed early – for a change!
  50. How many secrets are you keeping? Just 1 — how many secrets i’m actually keeping winks


What i did on summer vacation…

Monday July 14, 2008 – 07:41pm

This is the third summer i have gone on a trip “home” for an extended visit with my mom and to let my kids have “grandma time.” Each time is like a sabbatical, a time to recharge, to reclaim and re-arrange my brain. This summer has been no exception, other than this time i decided to include a trip down memory lane. i wasn’t sure which way i would go or what i would do, but i knew it was time to return to some hard places. i jumped in the car, and off i went…

The first place i went was the cemetery. My father died five years ago, and this was the first time i have been back. i was so scared at first; i couldn’t find his crypt marker anywhere. i started to become convinced that they moved it, but couldn’t bring myself to go to the office. i knew what height he should be, and that my grandparents were interred nearby, but i couldn’t find any of them. i went nearly nutty, everything looking like i remembered, but not at all. i could have sworn he was inside a mausoleum building, but he was outside. So i finally found him, and crumpled in a sweaty heap, 8 feet below him.

It was so intense. i guess a part of me always somehow thought he was alive, just sick in the hospital as so often happened. Just because i wasn’t seeing him, didn’t mean he wasn’t alive, right? But there it was, with his name right there on the marble. i thought i would be calm, perhaps a single tear dripping down my cheek in a dramatic fashion. Instead, i turned into a blubbering fool, sniffling and sniveling – definitely not a pretty picture. i moved to the cool cement path below him, and just cried and cried until my eyes hurt to even open. i miss and need my Dad some days, and there is no hug in the world that will ever take that place. He wasn’t perfect, but he changed into an amazing man i was lucky to know. He gives me hope that i can change into a good and giving person too. i love you Dad…

So, tears streaming down my face, i left to tackle another demon. i went toward home and stopped at the apartment complex where i was babysat during the summer i was 8 years old…. a place where i was regularly assaulted by the baby sitter’s son… a place where i was anally raped… a place where i was abused and molested and taunted and teased and hurt… a place where my “babysitter” got mad at me because her son got her “good towels” dirty with the blood from the rape.

8 years old… so old, yet so young. i look at my daughter who is the same age, and i cannot comprehend how this could have happened to the lil girl that was me. She’s young, she’s fragile, she’s a pleaser. She’s smart and wants to protect her brother. My daughter is me. Please give me the wisdom, the strength, the power to keep her safer… to let her know she is loved… that she is enough…

Dear lil 8 year old me,

Please know that you will grow up ok. You will have your ups and downs, but you will survive and you will thrive. It wasn’t your job to save the world, much less your brother. It was ok to be overwhelmed; even as adults we get overwhelmed. Yes, there are some that have taken advantage of your body, but there are others that will appreciate your mind. You are good enough. You are beautiful enough. You don’t have to dream up, describe and fulfill wishes anymore just to meet a pervert’s fantasies. One day, you will find you have control of you… and when you don’t, you still always have the control, you simply need to reclaim it. It wasn’t your fault; he had the control. Look up and outward, lil me; believe in yourself, believe in today – and tomorrow. You are loved lilone, by me, by so many. Be strong. Come looking for me; i’ll be here waiting for you to catch up and walk with me.

—Your loving older you.



Tuesday July 15, 2008 – 06:12pm

A dear friend was speaking to me this afternoon. She had read what i had written about my excursion to the graveyard and to the apartment complex where one of my abuser’s lived, and asked me if i were ok. i felt myself recoil, indignant that she would ask such a thing. Of course i am ok, i huffed to her, then broke down in tears.

What i had to struggle with was not so much the pain of what had happened. Over the years, i’ve been dealing with many of the issues that are connected to that. What hit me so hard, and what was pointed out to me, was that i could not accept compassion and caring (“Are you ok?”) without hearing that i was not ok.

Even when i was writing yesterday’s letter to my inner lil girl, i struggled to tell her too much about how i am now. i wanted to say that i am ok, even more than ok oftentimes. But i hesitated to claim that. To even say, “You are good enough” felt almost bold, boastful.

How twisted our thought processes become after abuse, or other traumas to our psyches. How contradictory we become in trying to mesh what we want, what we are, what we can be. Over and over i have done this in my life.

When i was in Maryland in 1991, i was assaulted by the neighbor that lived upstairs from me. i gained literally two dress sizes in less than a full year. It wasn’t the only time i’d allowed fat to reflect the ugly i was feeling inside. It wasn’t the only time that i used (or tried to) the mixed message of a heavy body shell to deflect eyes from me, leaving me unobserved and alone.

When smart was no longer cool in school, i put my brains on the back burner, and then felt frustrated when people didn’t think of me as intelligent. i have chosen relationships with people that were emotionally unavailable to me, secretly glad that i didn’t have to risk my heart on larger, potential happiness, and then felt hollow when i didn’t have a deeper connection.

i was once told, by someone who seemed quite proud of the fact that she couldn’t remember much from her childhood, that i was “broken.” i am definitely not broken. Even at my most damaged, i have never been completely broken. i refuse to be.

And you know, it really is ok to say you’re ok… Now i just need to feel confident in that, believe it, remember it. Ok?


Hunger Pangs, Poly-connections, Pizza

Thursday July 24, 2008 – 09:43pm

(warning multiple metaphors ahead)

i was once with someone… a very smart someone…

We had the opportunity to connect in a particular way, one that we had talked about for days beforehand. i won’t speak for Him, but i can tell you my mind raced to feel Him deliver His wicked attentions (ok, that part is not unusual either smiles). Yet, once we actually saw each other, the plans stopped.

Of course, there was a part of me that was disappointed (though would never pout haha). Another part that was confused. He said He wanted this… and then didn’t allow me to give it.

But, He also helped me realize by this refusal to cave to my whims and wants (and presumably His), that there are times that getting what you want is not what you need. Of course for me, the realization needed to be explored further. If you (He) wanted it so much, and i didn’t give it to him, for whatever reason, have i failed Him? Had i failed myself?

i tend to need to think about things in terms of analogies. i need to test a theory against an analogy, over and over, to make sense of it in my head. In this case, i got stuck at first: He wanted pepperoni pizza, and “settled” for spaghetti. What was wrong with my pizza?

Then, with the help of another very smart person, i was able to talk it through, especially within the context of the Lifestyle. This man is a Dom. He ordered “spaghetti”. He made the choice on what He wanted at that time for that meal. Even if pizza is the specialty of the house. Even if He always orders pizza. As His server, it’s up to me to bring Him what He ordered. (Just so we’re clear, this isn’t all about “sausage” either smiles)

Following the analogy out further, to one given to me by yet another smart person (aren’t i lucky to have so many around me?!): And, sometimes You might not want to eat at my restaurant. Maybe today You simply don’t crave Italian food. Or it is breakfast time. Or You don’t feel well, and You need something simpler. That doesn’t mean You don’t still like my food or that my restaurant isn’t (one of) Your favorites.

(Of course, this analogy works well for me as i rarely cook from home. Some people, they will be able to make everything their partner desires, for every meal. This is all i can do, but it is enough for now. And for someone who is craving for what i serve, it will be enough.)


It Was a Very Good Year

Merci beaucoup Monsieur.

Friday July 25, 2008 – 07:57am



Thursday August 7, 2008 – 10:17pm (EDT)

Particularly with the recent transition in my life, i have had more opportunity than usual to take a closer look at the connections i have, and have had in my life, and in the lifestyle community. As we get to know more people, it seems that the overlaps and coincidences start to multiply. Not only are we faced with the potential challenge of seeing former partners with a current partner, we discover there are friendships, alliances and enemies beyond the obvious (or even the rational chuckles).

Each new visit to a munch or the dungeon (or even to various online sites) can bring news of connections for which you may not have been prepared. (For that matter, however, they can also be misleading as to alliances that may or may not be solid). Sometimes these can shock us; but as overlapping as this community is, should not completely surprise either. It is always a good reminder of who is your enemy yesterday, can (and likely will) be connected to your good friend tomorrow. What is whispered in an ear today, may be shared, relayed or misinterpreted tomorrow.

Even when we want to pull the covers over our heads and refuse to ever leave our homes again, remember whatever you’re experiencing has probably happened before, and the flood of thoughts and feelings associated with it will get less intense. What we do can be so emotional, so intense. That is the “normal” for WIITWD (What It Is That We Do).

Fortunately, with the mixed experiences during my time in the community, i have become even more firmly focused on treating others with the kindness and respect i would like to be treated. It is part of the reason for GDsN, so i can help others learn from my mistakes and my challenges, as i continue to live and grow too.

i intend to be an example of positive, friendly and courteous, even if i will never be able to be “friends” with a particular individual. There is no one in this community worth wasting a moment of my energy or to fill my soul with negativity, and i simply refuse to do it. Even if there are times i cry in private, i do not “show my ass”, nor do i intend to pull a “Springer” on anyone. The only person behavior like that hurts is me, and that’s not the kind of pain i am into smiles

i am reaching out, one more person at a time, for friendships, play, education, whatever opportunities as they come. i am rebuilding the structure of me. May i plant a flower in the garden of my heart in your honor? The fragrance can sure be sweet smiles


The Auction

For days ahead of time, the names, the ideas, the temptations rolled through her head. Who to choose? What to choose? The dilemma knocked around like gravel in a cement mixer whenever she least expected it. Could she bring herself to ask for what she wanted, not just a simplistic, good girl polite request? The money could give her the means to potentially have it; yet, her submissive nature fought hard against it, frantic to not accept the controls.

Even as she read the various descriptions as they trickled in, her hungers growled ferociously within her. Losing herself in details of fantastical whispers, firm grips and tender embraces, all made more steamy by the hours of marinating in her imagination, she still reeled with the difficulty of deciding.

She knew, deep within her, some of the details she envisioned. She knew what she hoped to feel, to hear, perhaps even to see (or not), or to taste. Little snapshots she was afraid to give into, to give voice, to conjure like an fiery djinn. Little pictures of how she wanted and needed to be. Would she speak the words?

But now, finally, it was time.

Time to put her money on the table on the block, and give voice to her cravings. She looked around one last time, each of the strong, Dominant personalities drawing to different parts of her. Closing her eyes tightly for a moment, she allowed herself one more moment to envision the other side of the “purchase.” At last, her resolution and bravery held her firmly,

Her hazel eyes, now gleaming with promise and desire, opened widely. Somehow she was not surprised as the person was right before her, ready to claim what she was eager to relinquish. Ready to let her give… Ready to let her receive…

She was ready too…


So how do you know…?

How do you know when enough is enough? When the time to go has finally come?

i’ve been trying to improve myself, and my primary relationship, but i just don’t think i can do it anymore. i’m just too tired… i’m tired of being the bitch (especially when he has the nerve to say that in front of the kids).

Is it when the staying is more painful than the going?

i admit, i’ve been scared to get back on my own, after so many years as a part of things. At the least, the financial independence in this time of overall economic turmoil is more than a lil frightening. Doesn’t help that my primary job for the past several years has been working part time for his sister.

And what about my two (not-so-)lil ones? Is there ever a best, or at least better time? My parents were married until my dad died; i can’t imagine the agony a split could put in them. And, would they always see it as my fault? He certainly speaks out more vocally about what i am doing (“Your mommy doesn’t want to spend time with us tonight; she’d rather spend it with her friends.”) Would he turn everything nasty, and try to keep me from ever seeing them, even though he has zero ability to get them out the door in the morning (which equals anytime for anything before noon)?

i know i am a lousy wife, especially lately. The joy in doing for and with him is gone. i end up with zero motivation to do anything more than the basics, and sometimes not even that. He criticizes, complains, whines and makes passive aggressive comments. i find it sad that i am happier alone, cleaning in my son’s room, than being with him (or even the family, because i don’t want him to argue in front of the kidlets). He says he dreads coming home, since i’m a horrid housekeeper and “never do anything”. And, i find myself dreading him coming home, because i don’t want to talk to him, be with him, be touched by him.

He snips and snipes – then comes to me within an hour wanting to receive “attention.” Sometimes that “attention” is enough to “earn” me time outside the house, but lately the time out, no matter how long, scores complaints and negative commentary. How can you talk so rudely to me, then moments later think that i will have forgotten, and i am ready to laugh and be light hearted?

i don’t know if i can do it. and i don’t know if i can stay. and i think there’s a part of me that’s breaking tonight.

(c) August 09


The Little Things

Sometimes you can feel the most alive from the simplest, smallest of sensations and experiences…

… a pinch to an upper arm, leaving a dime of a mark, but shivering right through you, moving quicker than your pulse;

… a jammed pinkie, growing unable to bend, but bringing a smile of a ferocious soccer match;

… fingers holding onto a collar, cutting your breath, whispering of things best forgotten;

… the feeling of lips on your forehead, searing the memory of the moment into your brain forever;

… the polish-free circle on a big toe, smudged and erased, the paint left behind in a curl of intensity;

… a pucker of the roots at your nape’s tender skin, pulled taut from your own resistance, held firm by another’s strength and determination;

… the startling jabbing of a piercing, stabbed deep in your private folds, just as you were sure it was over;

… his familiar scent, oozing from every pore, wafting over me like anesthesia;

… touching, tasting, wiping the salty dew on another’s forehead, made damp from their attention and connection with you;

… a startling, possessive tweak to an unsuspecting, hungry nipple

a sigh
a whisper
a word
a moment


It really is all about me

i know, i know. Eye rolls abound at the idea of “it” being all about any submissive, much less me, but …

The past several months especially have brought a number of things to the forefront of my thinking, by way of some substantial pileups on the emotional freeway. Time for me to clean up this wreck already! Let me start by saying what i knew logically, but had not been able to totally incorporate before this (but i am working on hard now):

  • We are all ultimately responsible for our own happiness. No one can make us happy or sad; we make that choice. How we react to what we see, know, and experience is up to us. We must be active in the examination of what works and doesn’t. Even if it appears nothing has changed, the river water still effects the rock in its bed from the flow.

looking hard at myself now i know i am particularly bad (hears the coughing and choking around her now) about filling in all the blanks with my version of dialogue and action. We (ok, read i) can be the biggest sadists in our own lives – forcing our psyches into places that do nothing but cause us hurt, even if it is just by letting our mind wander and doodle.

  • Each day, each moment, is a choice – even (especially?) in consensual slavery. At the very least, i must decide, “Is this where i want and need to be?” If it isn’t, i need to take responsibility for that, decide what i can do from my side, what changes can i make, and if necessary, to stop and/or move to another place.

That said: i admit, it has hurt, very much sometimes, seeing those to whom i have been connected connecting in various ways to others. i know too, and deeply regret, that it has been so painful, and that it has made me be less than my best self – inside and outside of me (personal apologies to follow; please forgive me if i have offended and i was not aware). Putting this publicly will also serve as a reminder to me to not let that happen again.

  • We can’t see what is going on on the other side of an IM conversation, in someone’s head, or know all of their actions or motivations. Even with more knowledge of a situation and individual, we still will be viewing things through the filters of our own experiences. Sometimes this can help us see a larger truth, but as often as not, it can be as skewed as a fun house mirror.
  • This is ultimately a very small, often incestuous community (and i don’t mean just the Atlanta area either). There are bound to be overlaps of playmates, relationships, and various connections. Very little stays secret or hidden, especially if you want it to. And that includes hiding our own heads in the sand.

Example from early on: My first Dom (kinda), living in Utah, was madly in love with a gal…who turns out to have also made a connection with a Dom in the Atlanta area to whom i had been talking. Both men were convinced she was the girl of their dreams; neither realized at the time they were both wooing and being wooed by the same girl — until 2+2 equaled even others when the truth finally came out.

  • Common courtesy and proper behavior should not be confused with extraordinary. Someone i deeply respect and love just reminded me of this when He heard me saying about another, in full amazement and awe, “He said He’d contact me, and He did.” Oh my! What is wrong with this picture that i had grown willing to accept this and feel grateful for it?
  • And, yes, sometimes (more often than not), it really isn’t about me. As i have told others, when giving some of my better advice (which i tend to be unable to always follow), choices and actions by others are not always an anti-choice or reaction against us. For instance, if you choose to do XYZ, that doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t choose to do ABC. The reverse is also true. Some things really are not just either / or.

So, overall, it is all about me… at least as long as it is my life. Even if i reflect on you, i must ultimately remember to act with responsibility and accountability, for my own sake, and for better or worse.

i hope, starting now, it is better…


Tales of a Moving Target

smiling softly, the haze of bliss still coating the eyes

Last night was another delicious evening for the memory books. It was nearly the perfect combination of play and service opportunities, and i could not be more grateful.

Sir Mark and His sunshine were kind enough to allow me to serve Them, Their home, and the needs of Their guests. It had been a long time since i’d been able to serve this many, this long, and it was ecstatic experience of its own. i appreciated both of them for their conscientious reminders to tend to my own needs too. (My secret thanks, i think winks, to Lavender haha) Sir Mark was even so thoughtful, offering to needle the targets of my costume onto me; wonder where He got that idea? swivels head

Those that were gracious enough to allow me to meet their various needs, i humbly thank You. Each time i was able to deliver a cup of the aromatic homemade pumpkin brew, top off a glass of much needed refreshment, clear a plate, i sensed my body soften and surge, as electrifying, and moving through my body, in nearly the same way as feeling an implement strike. How sweet it was!

Thanks would not be complete without a deeply felt, certainly inadequate, expression of gratitude to the One that delivered a powerful reminder of positive choices, and the ultimate control held by strong Dominant, particularly when activated by the exchange of power. My pout ignited a fire, with the fuel provided by the wood of two broken paddles; needless to say my bottom side is feeling the heat today!

Also of note: Thank You to Joe, for helping me secure a perfect paddle to kick off the evening, Paddler for walking me through some ideas while i roamed at Dom Depot (maybe that gleam in my eye is why i got so much help and attention haha, and the others that gave various suggestions while i worked on this “project.” grins

i am really one of the luckiest people in the world. smiles contentedly, enjoying the moment and the memories

For another version of the events, here’s the Hostess’ version

(c) October ’08


Release – the good kind

[a memory? a fantasy? only He will know smiles]

It is very hard for me to ask ~cheeks burning~ but may i pleasure myself, to the point of release, in Your honor and with our memories in mind?

Please do and then write it for me in detail.

For Your pleasure, it will be done; i am honored to be granted release by and for You.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As i had waited for Your response, i struggled not to slip into thoughts of the apparent insanity of begging this from You. i closed my eyes, waiting for the buzz of my phone to let me know You replied, and replayed Your words into my racing mind. i listened to the memory of You, reassuring me You would not reject me for a single mistake, You would let me know if i had become too presumptuous, and let the words touch me, settle me, as only You do. Then came Your answer.

Using the adrenaline from the nervous energy it took for me to ask You for this, spurred by the thought of Your approval, i sprung from the seat and bound into my bedroom. i flipped on the ceiling fan, feeling the cool of it hitting my cheeks, still flushed from my inner twistings of nervousness, and made my way to the bed. i removed my loose clothing, including the soft shorts i have worn to protect today’s tender skin. Wiggling free of my sateen panties, my nakedness felt observed by Your silent, albeit absent, eyes.

i shimmied onto my belly, the soft of the new week’s sheets below me. The breeze blew over my tender, exposed ass as i moved to the middle of the bed. i opened my phone, and re-read Your words, and felt my shudder of anticipation as i recalled Your face so close to me, Your hands moving over parts of my body, through my hair in a fondue of wickedness and tenderness.

Shyly at first, i reached between my legs, moving down the line of my desire, until my fingers found the chill of my silver hood piercing. Familiarly, i touched the jewelry ball’s firmness, pressing it against the thickening of my own flesh’s nub. i arched my back slightly, allowing my body to move up, down, pressing into my fingers. Immediately, my tips dampened with the wetness, brought on by so much pent up craving and want. Instantly, my body responded, curling into itself, finding an increasing rhythm. The pace quickened as my middle and pointer fingers straddled each slickened lower lip. The bareness made the movements easier, gliding faster, more urgent.

Even as the tempo sped up, matching my jagged panting, i bit my lip. Even now, i couldn’t give myself permission to make the sounds that could be heard. Gulping back the grunts, i buried my face into the pillow, sending the groans into the plump white cotton. Whispering, over and over, please, pleassse, pleasssse. The permission i needed now was my own, to accept what You had granted. Suddenly overcome by my own urges, i finally was able to release, orgasmic ricochets in my most private of spaces. The hard contractions spasmed within me, sending me writhing, my rear muscles twitching against their violet markings. My legs bounced from the waves of pleasure, supported by curled toes burrowed into the mattress.

So long it had been since release…so long since it had been granted… even longer since it had mattered. Today it did. Today, i needed the release; but even more, i needed to give it to and for You. The needs were selfish: For my own body, certainly, to soothe the simmering within, but even more so, to giving those burning aches a place to focus and dedicate.

Thank You for receiving my service gracefully, my dedicated pleasures happily. For so many things… thank You…

(c) November 08


i am grateful…

… for my mistakes, and learning new ways to think and to do;

… for being able to cry and to laugh, even to sing again;

… for being lost, and finding new routes to contentment;

… for my emotions, hard, true, deeply real, and for being able to feel them at all;

… for my words, even when they fail me;

… for the expectation to respect myself, even when i didn’t;

… for the silences, even my own, and finding that they don’t need to be feared;

… for you – each of you – getting to know you has helped me get to know me. You have made a difference in my life. Whether our connection is intended for a reason, a season or a lifetime, from a positive or negative place, i am glad for it, i needed it, and i needed you and your lessons.

“Default” is not fair, to you or me, nor is it enough; “Settling” doesn’t settle me anymore.

i am grateful tomorrow is another day.

i need another try.



(c) December 08

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