Dec 012013
 

Setting up event pages on FetLife involves knowing and understanding a few of the site’s quirks.  Below are a few points that may help you adequately and accurately create an event page:

Problem: User having difficulty using “Events Near Me”

“Near me” relates to matching the city you have listed on your profile to the city listed by the event. If you want to explore other places, you can do so either by clicking on the state/province/country from that same menu, or to go to the “Places Menu” (located at the top of the screen), and selecting the location you want to look for events. That said, there is no “miles from” radius search.

I’m not a FetLife support person, but I play one on TV … or was it that I slept at a Holiday Inn?

Actually, I’m just someone who spends (way too much) time on FetLife, trying to figure out some of the ways it works (and doesn’t). In the instance of events, I created my own event (https://fetlife.com/events/49550) to try things out, re: searches and the like.

You’re right: It does make a ridiculously large jump from a local city when you go to a state-province-country. Unfortunately, that’s the current nature of the beast. And, yes, you do need to do multiple searches, considering most event organizers do not think of the FetLife search factor (ie locations as keywords and search terms) when creating an event.

If you look at the event I created, you can visibly see terms like Sudan and Belarus (listed as part of ‘location’ section), Tilsa, Singapore and Enid (listed in the ‘description’ section). Contrary to what seems natural, you cannot find this group when using Sudan and Belarus in the search box. However, you can search using the terms and places listed in the ‘description’ section (eg Enid and Singapore).

What you can’t see (but an event organizer can, in this case, me), is that the event was created to be held in the city of Whitehorse/province of Yukon, in Canada. So, you could find this fake event via both the events (near me) and places menu, using Whitehorse, Yukon and Canada.

The event organizer, when creating an event, must put in a location; this is done via pull down menus, and is tied to the same (somewhat awkward and limited) database as the Places menu (eg, there are no cities in Australian territories, and other things, as discussed >here). However, this forces the organizer to put in a location that may or may not be where the event is being held, and/or a more major city, useful for searching “near me.”

What can be done, as an event organizer?

  • Consider which ways an event is searchable. When creating the event, and answering, “Where is the event taking place” and “Address”, be aware that neither of these fields is searchable. What is? The event name, tagline, description and the pull-down location (entered at the bottom of the page);
  • Don’t use abbreviations (as FetLife generally doesn’t search or index keywords less than three characters, eg “GA”)
  • Don’t use county names – unless specific cities are included as well. It may seem logical to include them as a reader, but are essentially useless in terms of a FetLife search.
  • Try to incorporate cities and towns that may be useful, especially in the event’s description section. For example: “This annual event is held in Marietta, Georgia, an Atlanta suburb, with attendees coming from all over the metro area, including Roswell, Smyrna, Peachtree City…” Each city listed would serve as a keyword, and would especially help this event be found by those searching “near me”.

IMPORTANT NOTE: It is the invisible-to-the-viewer location, made by the pull-down menu by the event’s creator, that creates what is searchable using the “places” menu.

TL;dr – Using “near me” is based on an invisible-to-viewer location, drawn from the event’s creator’s choice, and is tied to the flawed Places menu. It may or may not relate to where an event is actually being held.

No, FetLife does not currently have a way to search by radius from a location.
Yes, it could be helpful – but other changes would need to be made too.


The impetus, and continued discussion on this topic, can be found here.

Aug 132013
 

Once upon a time, I was in love. I was in love with this person for many, many years. In fact, this person was my very first love, so I was particularly stupid over him. Always have been from my earliest memories of our time together.

Several years ago, we reconnected after decades apart, coincidentally near the beginning of my outward kink journey. He was a Dom, and I wasn’t surprised, knowing the sway he held over me, the resonance I felt whenever he asked anything of me.

Over the years, we exchanged text messages, emails, a few phone calls now and then. Both of us still claimed to love the other, but this love didn’t keep us from tumbling into and maintaining other relationships. Nor did it inspire in us a blind urgency to see each other in person.

After all these many years apart, we had a chance to come together. Well, more technically, he invited me to visit his state while I was in the adjacent state, which was many states from my home state. With the anticipation of finally consummating our decade-long youthful romance, enhanced by sizzling hot sexts describing the decadent plans, how could I not go?

Sure, seeing him required driving several hours round trip. But, this was lovvvvve… a “forever” love that had spanned years. True love certainly; it was meant to be. After all, I watch movies and read on the internet, so I know how it is supposed to be. (/end sarcasm)

Finally, the big day arrived. I showered, shaved, and sweated in the 100° Midwestern heat. I checked into an inexpensive (read: seedy) hotel he recommended. The desk clerk handed me two real keys. I swear she smirked at me.

FirstTrueLove managed to break free to see me that evening. We clung to each other, embracing, holding each other, as if time had not passed. Finally, we could be alone. Naked. Together.

Which, admittedly, was nice. I am a fan of the male body, and he is a handsome specimen with beautiful eyes and dimples. And, fortunately for my addiction to him, however, he was not wearing his (then-?)trademark Drakkar Noir.

The evening passed quickly, mostly without words on the less-than-luxurious bed. So quickly that going to dinner together wasn’t an option. Then, before I knew – or expected – it, he jumped up to leave (though, not before I brought a smile to his face). He informed me he would be back to the hotel bright and early (very early!). I smiled happily, imagining a long, lazy day, when he’d finally fuck and spank me silly. mmmm, how delicious…

My excitement (and/or being over-tired from driving) kept me from sleeping more than an hour that night. The not-so-dull roar, and accompanying window pane rattling, from the nearby airplanes didn’t help either.

Before the sun, he arrived, kissed me, and immediately informed me, he wouldn’t be able to be with me that evening as he originally planned. In fact, he would need to leave by 4 p.m.

I swallowed back my disappointment. After all, years have gone by between us. Sure, it’s less time, but more time than we had had for ages. I should be happy.

More snuggling and being together ensued. He caressed my head and my hair, and without words, I drifted in and out of the consciousness that eluded me all night.

The times when I did open my eyes, however, he was texting. A lot. (And coming from me that says a lot!)

He did manage to put his phone down a few times, but I could hear the very distinct clink tone when he got a new text. Every time, he’d roll over on the bed, and immediately read and reply. Every time. As always, I kept my eyes averted to give a degree of privacy, especially from the screen, but it didn’t keep me from seeing his eyes light up, his deep dimples crinkling into a smile with every message.

I lazily caressed his bare chest, and let my fingers trace him as I stayed in a quiet, not-quite-there state. I wanted to be able to distract him, but didn’t want to disturb him. I kept hoping he’d pull my hair, yank me into a happy submissive pose and pillage me. After all, he promised me some rough treatment, mixed with tenderness. I didn’t realize his sadism extended to focusing on someone else(s) at the other, more electronic, end of his fingers.

Looking down and catching my eyes open at one point, he informed me that he would now need to leave by 3.

Way early morning turned into almost lunch, and neither of us had eaten. I asked if he wanted to grab a bite. Sure, he says, but he’s tapped out on cash at the moment. “No problem,” I tell him, gladly offering to pay, partly to calm my own growling belly. Since it’s his home town, I ask if he minds driving to whatever restaurant he’d like to eat at, but he needs a bit of cash for gas. I invite him to ride in my vehicle instead.

We arrive at a seldom-visited favorite of his. We’re seated in the center of the restaurant, where almost all patrons and staff pass by to their tables. Conversation drifts to our children, and other less-than-erotic topics. He opens his phone, and shows me picture after picture of the friends-that-are-girls in his life. A little after noon, we finish, and he asks, “So did you have something else in mind?” I don’t know what to say to this, so I reply going back to the hotel for a bit longer might be nice. I hoped this would finally be “it”; but, by this point, I didn’t really expect or want it, or anything much, anymore.

Insert another hour on the hard bed. With clothes still on. With the phone still within the stretch of his fingers. Before 3 comes, he prepares to leave. As he slips on his shoes, he looks at me, expectantly, like a bellman expecting a tip. And, feeling even more awkward, I pull out a bill and give it to him. He mutters something about paying me back, but I know he doesn’t know my Paypal or home address. I just nod, a few tears falling down my face.

EPILOGUE:
He leaves. I cry. Big, hot, stupid tears. I blubber to a friend, this time being my turn texting. I tell my friend how I feel like this brought back all the feelings I had worked so hard to fix, especially feeling like “not enough.” Why wasn’t I “enough” to inspire him to follow through on his sadistic and sensual plans? to keep him from leaving (early)? even to keep him from texting?

I texted First-but-no-longer-Love, sharing my sense of hurt, disappointment and self-doubt, thinking I should be able to express how it made me feel. He snaps back that I got it wrong, and about he didn’t need to apologize for his “normal behavior.” I try to explain I wasn’t looking for an apology, but sharing my reaction and feelings.

His last “word” to me? “K”
I haven’t heard from him since.
Ah.. true love..


This writing is, in part, a reminder to myself that I have the right – and responsibility – to share my thoughts and feelings to people with whom I am involved, that I am “enough” regardless of whether or not someone else sees or enjoys me that way, and of the many other lessons that came from that too-long 24 hours.

Frankly, the fact that I gave him money embarrasses me almost most of all. I couldn’t seem to stop myself from just giving – and giving in, to just find a way to make the bad feeling go away. Instead of holding firm to my power, I simply caved, taking the relatively easy way out. Making this post is also my attempt to take away that sense of shame.

Jul 092013
 

As smart as I probably thought I was when I started exploring the lifestyle, I have since discovered I had much to learn. Before I forget all my hard earned lessons, I am jotting them here to keep them fresh, to remind me how far I’ve come, and how learning never stops.

  • Sexy isn’t what “they” say it is. Sexy is confidence. Sexy is a smile. Sexy is being comfortable with your body. Or, at the least, not commenting on it and making someone else have to judge it. Being attractive is being attracted, or at least attentive, to another person;
  • Being open regarding your interests in the bedroom or in play does not equal being intimate with your essence. Exposing your body does not mean your soul needs to be exposed. Be careful and protective with who you are;
  • Never say “Never!” Hard limits should be respected, but be willing to look at why your limits are in place. Be sure you know what you’re saying “no” to and why. Be willing to try things more than one time, in more than one way, in more than one circumstance;
  • Those that organize groups aren’t necessarily leaders. Those that lead, don’t necessarily organize. Neither is necessarily who is wisest, most deserving, or even the best person for the job. Sometimes leaders are assholes, abusers or just happened to be the right person at the right time. A group that rests on one person’s shoulders will often fail when the leader loses his/her head;
  • Realize that the same word or action can have more than one meaning, depending on the person or situation. Is “pretty good” better or worse than good? Is “brat” an insult? What is the meaning of “sex”?;
  • While it may seem smart to play along when a discussion goes into unfamiliar territory, it is often even smarter to keep quiet and learn, and wiser to ask well-placed questions. Those that talk the most don’t necessarily (often don’t) know the most;
  • If you’re so focused on how you are serving, on making it “just right”, it can be all too easy to lose focus on who and why you are serving. Instead of being pleasing and selfless, it becomes showy and selfish;
  • Unless you were there, you didn’t get the whole story. Even if you were there, you don’t know the whole truth;
  • Even if you give up the authority in an authority transfer/power exchange relationship, you don’t get to abdicate responsibility. Ultimately, at the end of the day, you are still responsible to and for you;
  • People can change – a lot sometimes, especially in conjunction to power exchange relationship. Sometimes they change even more after the end of a relationship. However, more often, people evolve and grow – not change;
  • That said, don’t count on people to change. If you know a person to be a “scorpion”, don’t be surprised when s/he stings you.
  • Some Dominants/subs/Masters/slaves/(insert term here) are bad/dangerous/assholes/trouble. Many more are just a bad fit for an individual(s). They’re not always the same thing;
  • It’s usually not about you, even when it feels like it is. They’re not looking at, thinking or talking about you. And, if by some small chance they are, and if they are reacting in a negative way, remind yourself of Suess’s rule of “Those that matter don’t mind, and those that mind, don’t matter.”;
  • Making mistakes doesn’t make you dumb. Being unable or unwilling to learn from them does;
  • Learn your “deal breakers” (those things that you must / must not have for a relationship to be successful and enjoyable, especially if they cannot change). If they’re there, don’t continue to waste either partner’s time.
  • There is a difference between wants and needs. Learn and accept your own. Wanting something realllly bad doesn’t make it into a need. Having a want doesn’t mean you’re selfish;
  • Putting someone’s wants before yours doesn’t mean yours don’t matter. Putting yours first doesn’t mean you’re selfish;
  • Just like in driving, looking backwards and beside you is sometimes necessary. However, keep in mind, the majority of your focus should be forward and on your lane;
  • Be willing to safe word – in play, in life, in relationships. Sometimes, the pain is too much. Occasionally, what’s going on needs to stop, and sometimes, it needs to stop for good;
  • For all the fun and information that can be gained online, nothing can replace real time experiences. (Not saying there is no value in online information or experience). Reading someone’s facial expressions in play, having conversations and meeting people – is generally more challenging and ultimately, more rewarding than graphic descriptions, emoticons and Skype. Be prepared: A cane or flogger strike really will hurt;
  • Receiving pleasure can be a service, even for a submissive. Giving pleasure can be a dominant’s desire. Actions themselves are neither submissive nor dominant, but instead the intent and manner of giving them can be;
  • Life’s not fair. Really. The good guys don’t always wear win, and the bad guys don’t always lose or wear black. And, yeah, that’s not fair;
  • On the other hand, sometimes karma does handle payback to level things a bit. Don’t assume because you don’t see it, that it hasn’t or won’t happen;
  • How someone acts is on them; how I choose to respond (or not) is on me;
  • There is only “one true way”: It’s what works for you, and for your relationship(s). And, the “one true way” can, and likely will change with time.

More to come…

Jun 162013
 
ARTICLES:
Getting Started

MunchGuideBanner468x60
MUNCH BASICS:

A beginner’s guide to BDSM Munches, by Jay Wiseman
What’s a Munch? a Social? a Slosh? a POS?, by caryl
Differences between munches, from a discussion on Novices & Newbies, post by BadMouseM
It’s your first munch, eh? I bet you’re thinking…, by ThoughtsofYou
Why Everyone Says Come Out to a Munch to Newcomers, by LilyWhite1
Getting into your local scene, by roo_roo
Tyler’s Practical Guide to Munches & Public Parties, shared with permission of and written by DameTyler
Munch Technique, shared with permission of and written by Malbon
History of the Munch…In the Beginning, shared with permission of and written by i999shadow
How to host a munch, shared with permission of and written by i999shadow.
This is why we tell you to go to munches & events, written by and shared with permission of kitkat_cupcake
Advice for Your First Munch, written by and shared with permission of SecretSmile101
So you’re new at a munch? How to get the most bang for your buck., written and shared with permission of and written by PauleyO


CHECKLISTS

BDSM Checklist (Google Docs)


WEBSITES:

A Submissive’s Initiative – Accurate, safe and free information about BDSM
Ambrosio’s BDSM Site – A super collection of resources, including many articles by various authors.
BDSM101– Collection of writings and articles about those looking to get involved in kink..
BDSM Terms
Cowhideman’s Writings Index – Well thought advice by Cowhideman, Owner of FetLife’s Novices & Newbies group.
Healthcare without Shame – “Handbook for the Sexually Diverse and Their Caregivers”
Keeping It Kinky – Researched and Referenced Guide to BDSM
List of Philias – Extensive list of “loves”
No Shades of Grey Free E-book
Submissive Guide – Mentoring, self-help and submissive exploration
Susan’s Place – Support resource for the transgender community which provides information of use to transsexuals, crossdressers, and their familes. Resources available include Chat, Links, Reference Library, Site Reviews, Forums, GRS surgeon reviews, Wiki, and much more.
WizDomme Info Pack D/s “newbie pack”
XeroMag/Franklin’s Page – A great collection of easily digestible and informative essays, such as BDSM for Nice Guys, Exploring 50 Shades, BDSM FAQ and much more.


ARTICLES:
Especially for Dominants/Tops
Especially for Submissives/bottoms/slaves
Looking for Partners-Playmates
Using FetLife
How to Do What It Is That We Do (WIITWD)
Mar 162013
 

This message is not another debate, or opportunity to weigh in on what I think about the enforcement of TOUs, about idiotic management (other than my own mistakes), or what the site can and cannot do to protect. Several have heard loud shots, appearing to be coming from the site’s foundation; though, whether these blows are the ultimate death knell of FetLife is uncertain.

However, ultimately, it isn’t a case of IF FetLife implodes, but WHEN will it happen, and HOW – whether its death is by implosion or a slow trickle of migration and neglect.

Please understand: I’m not saying these things to be a prophet of doom, but simply recognizing the life cycle of any one method being “the way” to find information. Before there was FetLife, there was Yahoo groups and Geocities, and IRC chatrooms and newspaper ads and probably notes on papyrus. Before there was Facebook, there was MySpace and bulletin boards and … There is always a before – and an an after.

Regardless, Group Leaders, NOW is the time to consider your own organization’s communication and outreach strategies.

  • Does your group have a standalone website? A Yahoo or other group?
  • Does your group maintain an email list? When was the last time it was backed up? When was the last time addresses were checked?
  • How do members contact group leaders on and off of FetLife? Is there a generic email address? (eg President@YourDungeonClub.com)
  • Is your group’s visible information accurate, correct and timely? Are you still referring to yourself as a “new group”, even though you’ve now been around for five years? Do you still list your munch location as the place that burned down in 2011?
  • Revisit your group’s name and description, on FetLife and elsewhere. Consider the tips in @this thread, especially about including keywords.
  • Test your group’s ability to be found, Try to search various ways, on and off FetLife, to find your group. Do you show up when you use the “Places” tab on FetLife? when you search by your city? How about other ways?

FYI: Did you know that when you search in Yahoo groups for the keyword “munch”, it only comes back with 139 links (many of which have nothing to do with BDSM)? When you consider that FetLife has over 71,000 groups, and about half have a local component, that listing is far from complete or accurate.

Consider not just who your members are today, but the people looking for you in the future. Don’t equate “being found” with “being out”; there are several ways to promote your group that will help in a search that are less obvious than others. Even if you have a strong FetLife presence, and even if FetLife only gets bigger and better, Google doesn’t search FetLife – which leaves those searching in the dark.

Taking the time now will help your group survive – and thrive – regardless of chaos in the community at large.

Let’s help each other. Spread the word.
~joy

PS: I’m in the process of migrating The Munch and Adult Local Link (MALL) Directory to the standalone site www.FindaMunch.com. Please feel free to check it out, and to verify your gathering’s information.

I am not abandoning FetLife for the foreseeable future, but expanding the potential reach of The Directory by giving it potentially larger visibility, and therefore, continuing to provide an avenue for people to find your local organizations.

REV: 2013 March 15
For those with Yahoo (or other groups), be sure your “Related Link” points to an up-to-date, valid resource.

Mar 162013
 

Could your group use more members?

or do you ever wish there were more groups in your area?

When a person searches for groups, they most likely to do it one of two ways: 1) The search bar, or 2) The places tab. Neither of these methods will help your organization be found – unless you include the right information in the Group Name and “About & Rules”. Just because most people brush over reading the group’s rules, do not ignore the value of this page’s content.

The tips and information below are gathered from researching FetLife’s specific quirks and search engine optimization:

Here are some tips to increase the frequency your group is found in FetLife searches:
  • If you are a munch (or munch-type group), list yourself as such. To find local groups, people will often use their location + keyword “munch”. Without using this specific word, your organization can easily be missed;
  • Be explicit what cities your group serves. “PNW” isn’t near as useful for a search as “Washington”. “In the mountains” says less than the towns that your members come from. “Space Coast” is a common nickname, but spelling out that your group serves Melbourne, Cape Canaveral, etc is more likely to connect with individuals doing a place search; specific locations, like this example are great;
  • Keep in mind that searches often require 3 or more letters for solid results. Don’t rely on “TN” to lead kinksters to your Tennessee group;
  • Don’t sacrifice the ability to be found in the name of being discrete. At least give general location information such as “meets in the northeast Atlanta suburbs”; however, county names are less effective than city or town names;
  • Spell check the title and content of the group (especially any keywords);
  • It is so easy to write from familiarity. You know what you want to say; it’s easy to assume that what you’re intending is what is being conveyed. Read it out loud. Have someone else, preferably someone unfamiliar with your locale, read over your description;
  • Use your group’s description to your advantage to keep things fresh and informative;
  • Take the time to “test search” for your group. Can you be found by city(s)? state/province?(s) country? In both a place search like this and the search bar. NOTE: it can take a couple of hours for changes to reflect in the search engine;
  • Preferably in the title, list the full name of your group (eg “TES” vs “TES – The Eulenspiegel Society”);
  • Don’t rely just on your event postings to make clear who/what your group is. Make sure it is clear and consistent;
  • No matter how clever your group’s acronym name is, it doesn’t necessarily make it locatable. (eg searching for “SMART” reveals literally 106! groups);
  • The “rules” and “restricted to” sections (on the “about page”) are notindexed and not keyword searched. Don’t rely on it to solely express or advertise your geographic area or limitations;
  • Pay close attention to use of spacing and characters other than those of standard English. eg “Fort Worth” vs “FortWorth”, “Montreal” vs “Montréal” (edit as of August 7, 2011);
  • Is it clear where your group is located? “NE Kinksters” could be North East, New England, Nebraska, or many other options;


When searching for groups on FetLife, results are displayed in the following order:
1. Those with the keyword in the group title AND in the group description;
2. Those with the keyword only in the group title;
3. Those with the keyword only in the description or in the title but as a derivative.
(Within each of those categories, the results are shown in group ID # order.)

Therefore, if “Cuba” was the keyword, here is the order of how various (hypothetical) groups would be sorted in a FetLife search:
Group: “Kink Cuba” / Description: “For kinksters in Cuba”;
Group: “Kink Cuba” / Description: “For island nation kinksters;
Group: “Kink Islanders” / Description: “For kinksters in Cuba“;
Group: “Kinky Cubans” / Description: “For island nation kinksters;

While many of these tips specifically relate to FetLife, the information in general is applicable wherever your organization promotes itself.

Please share how these tips have worked for you, and any other suggestions.

Mar 112013
 

A beginner’s guide to BDSM Munches, by Jay Wiseman

What’s a Munch? a Social? a Slosh? a POS?, by caryl

Why Everyone Says Come Out to a Munch to Newcomers, by LilyWhite1

Getting into your local scene, by roo_roo

Tyler’s Practical Guide to Munches & Public Parties, shared with permission of and written by DameTyler

Getting Involved in the Boston Scene: A Practical Guide (much applicable to all), by Eponine

Munch Technique, shared with permission of and written by Malbon

History of the Munch…In the Beginning, shared with permission of and written by i999shadow;

How to host a munch, shared with permission of and written by i999shadow.

Mar 102013
 

As the owner for the FetLife group The MALL (Munch And Local Links) Directory, I have seen literally 1000s more groups of all types crop up in the past few years. One thing I have seen is just how much more accessible the lifestyle/scene is becoming all the time, regardless of location. It’s easier than ever to participate and to be involved – if one wants to be.

For meeting someone new, I often recommend munches as a wise first step. To me, the willingness to meet at a munch (or even in conjunction with one, perhaps at the beginning or end) says a lot. It is important to me to see a prospective partner in a social context like a munch. How do they handle a group? the wait staff? other community members? Do they immediately expect me to behave “in role” on a first meeting?

It’s one thing to say “I don’t play publicly.” It’s quite another to say, “I don’t meet publicly.”

If an individual isn’t actively involved in the local community, it’s not necessarily concerning; if a person isn’t aware or is unwilling to do so, that is more troubling to me. (Not a full relationship stop necessarily, but definitely something I would want to understand better.)

However, whether or not a partner wants to play publicly is completely individual choice, and reflects (to me) on a more personal set of preferences, most of which are not based on safety concerns. I have played in public (and depending on my partner and circumstances, I likely will again).

Some reminders:
Especially with the wildfire networking that FetLife provides, many more groups are forming and growing. Don’t assume that because you looked before, there isn’t a local community. They can often be hidden in plain sight (especially with acronyms, etc) Keep in mind the “personality” of a group will change over time, as attendance, participation and leadership change. If you attended once and found it too “this” or not enough of “that”, I recommend going again – but with an open mind.

Dec 172012
 

Tom:

A new year rapidly approaches. It is a natural time to tie up loose ends, create closure and to resolve to be a better, more whole person. For me, this resolution impelled me to write to you tonight.

However, perhaps you don’t remember me. Perhaps you don’t remember one of our last conversations. Perhaps you don’t realize the damage you caused me by what you said. Let me refresh your memory:

I had been assaulted in a sexual manner by an employee at the Brethren Service Center. I approached you as my boss, and as someone I thought would be reasonable, fair and protective of women. You listened to my story. I wrote out a painful, detailed description of the events. You and The Center’s Director gave me reassurances that things would be “taken care of” while I was gone on the annual BVS retreat. And, I believed you.

Instead, I came back from the retreat to the employee still living in the apartment directly above mine, and still employed by the Center with full key access to my apartment. That was scary enough.

However, even more scary was what you told me: You said that you talked to my “friends” and they told you I was not to be believed.

At the time, I was shocked and devastated. I shut down. And, I believed you.

I lost my confidence in anyone and everyone, just when I needed to be able to have a support system the most. Instead of being able to turn to the rape support group I had been regularly attending, or talking to my long distance friends, or asking for help, I felt I had nowhere to go.

Through the Church of the Brethren and Brethren Volunteer Service, I finally felt I had found a place that God and religion made sense. However, I was accused of making up lies, I lost faith in God and Humanity for many years.

I’ve tried to find reasons for your choice: Yes, I engaged in physical contact at the retreat. However, being physical or sexual after an assault is not unexpected, unusual or a sign that an attack did not happen. Or, perhaps you said what you did because it was the middle of the Anita Hill/Clarence Thomas debacle, and you were protecting the Center in the best way you knew how. Or, maybe you did talk to “someone” and they gave you the impression I wasn’t believable. However, no one I considered a friend ever received a contact from anyone at the Center, and I did not think of anyone there as a friend to me.

So, I have no other choice than to believe you lied to me. That lie haunted me for too long. But not anymore.

And, actually and thankfully, your lie hasn’t haunted in a long while. But, as the end of the world (hope not!) and the new year approach, I am emboldened to let you know what damage you caused. I urge you to never shatter someone’s spirit again so lightly and to be mindful of the impact of your words. Now that you are on my Alma Mater’s campus, I fear for those that might turn to you. I hope and pray your choices will be wiser, your words and actions less damaging.

Sincerely,
The woman I am – on behalf of the girl I was

TL;DR: I never lied. It happened – I was assaulted. I lived in fear. The results of your lie did more psychic and emotional damage than the actual attack.

Jan 182011
 

Tonight, someone basically informed me that they thought the MALL Directory was a waste of time. It took me aback momentarily, as I feel this group – and the information provides a necessary service to both individual seekers and organizations.

Here’s a little more information about what I am doing, and how and why I am doing it:

Q: Why do the directory at all? Why not just have people search for their locale?

A: Unfortunately, the majority of (FetLife in particular) groups do not identify themselves in a way that ensure people can find them by doing a search. Often, the names and descriptions are inadequate or vague, and will cause them to be overlooked. I research and categorize where groups belong.

For example, a (presumably hypothetical) group called “NE Kinksters.” NE of where? Is “NE” referring to Northeast or Nebraska or New England? Is it a town or a county? Perhaps the description would help, except it too might be vague, saying, “For kinky people in the NE area”.

Q: Are you only including information for munch groups?

A: Not at all! My goal is for people to find any/all local resources that will help them move beyond their computer screen and into the scene, and/or to connect with local individuals. Additional listings may include MAsT chapters, leather and special interest groups (such as rope lovers or submissives only).

Q: Why do you have “spam” and “inactive” groups listed?

A: This is partly for my own benefit. There are so many links that are no longer active for whatever reason. Without a record of them, I would be likely to stumble over them and try to add them again. In addition, this would hopefully help others as they find links to know what is current and not.

Q: Why is my group not listed?

A: Because you haven’t “advertised” it yet! smiles
In part because there’s only one of me and the internet just keeps growing! However, with a direct prompt, I’ll make sure it’s in the listing. No group has been (or will be) intentionally overlooked.

Q: But wait…aren’t Yahoo (and other) groups defunct or a waste of time?

A: I don’t think so. Not yet at least. For now, there are a number of local organizations that still have a solid presence with Yahoo. With the way FetLife is currently set up, it is still a better choice for keeping a group’s business (eg rsvps) confidential. And, although FetLife allows searching by location, there is still no one way to find all the groups in an area. Hopefully this Directory will be a go-to resource as people expand and refine their search.

Q: Do I have to be the leader of the group to send you a link?

A: Absolutely not! I welcome information from all sources. I pull descriptions from the group’s webpage directly, so you do not have to worry about “speaking for them.” However, I do encourage group representatives to post to their locale’s thread, to give a personal face and connection.

Q: What if my group is active in more than one state?

A: If your core membership includes and actively is trying to reach more than one locale, please make sure it is listed in both.

Q: How do I get a correction made to the MALL Directory index listing?

A: Just send me an Fet-mail with the correction. Depending on the information, you may want to add the information to the thread for everyone to see. (eg Your group has recently changed something substantial to its definition).

Q: What can I do to help?

A: Take the time to verify the listings I have in the Directory. If you are an owner of a group, ensure what you have listed for “related links” are valid and up-to-date. Ask yourself, “How can my group be found?” Make adjustments to your group name and description, if applicable (and be sure and tell me too!)

One more thing…If you are a member of a group, please take the time to thank those in leadership positions; I am certain it will make their day-or more!

Q: Are you done yet?

A: Hahahaha! No… not until I catch up with the internet…

Nov 172010
 

I see another.
You’re not enough.
I get lonely. I have holes in my life that need to be filled. I need to be reminded I’m sexy too.


I’ve been with beauty queens.

I’m out of your league.
Beauty alone isn’t enough to interest Me. When sexy women are interested in Me, it proves I’m sexy.


I don’t want complications.

Don’t tell me your emotions.
I cherish you. I wish I could take away when it hurts.


She was such a good fuck.

Why can’t you be?
That slut had skills. I’m getting older. She may have been, but you’re here now.


Don’t ever make me choose.

Because you will always lose.
I can’t be your everything. Being “trapped” scares me. I hate thinking I’ve lost options.


You’re pretty on the inside.

Your outside repulses me.
What attracts me is not seen, but felt – and enjoyed. Your smile blows me away.


He said nothing.

She heard nothing – but silence.
Dismiss the committee. Be still and find Me –and peace – within.

Nov 172010
 

I see another.
You’re not enough

I’ve been with beauty queens.
I’m out of your league

I don’t want complications.
Don’t tell me your emotions

She was such a good fuck.
Why can’t you be?

Don’t ever make me choose.
Because you will always lose

You’re pretty on the inside.
Your outside repulses me.

He said nothing
She heard nothing — but silence.

Jul 302010
 

Late, my sleep disturbed, he summons.
A skilled whore, I feel him swiftly rise.
His touch reviles, leaving me cold, empty
Or seething in held back rage.

His paws immediately find their way
As always directly to my breasts.
Squeezing nipples as he does his pimples –
Hard, determined, producing little.

The mind futilely trying to replace
his hands for the Master’s adept touch
leaves only a void, a deeper gap of yearning
Filled by the promises of soon.

I choke hold his girth,
Triggering key spots easily, automatically.
He responds with Pavlovian simplicity.
I know it will be over quickly.

The body he touches is not his-nor mine;
it has been claimed, freely and fully entrusted
To One who abuses and cherishes it,
Bringing and taking pleasure as He wishes.

A kept woman, I am surrounded
By mementos of my capture,
miniature jailers ensuring I stay.
Enough blessings to endure the curse.

Wincing, I remember:
This is the price of my freedom,
to be owned, possessed, enslaved.
I am slut. I am His.

Jan 072010
 

make that…

My current results, 3 years later, as of tonight:

You Scored as Submissive – It feels good to serve. A lack of control in the bedroom can be fun and relaxing. Being with a dominant person wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Submissive 82%
Experimental 75%
Bondage 64%
Masochist 64%
Switch 54%
Degradation Lover 50%
Sadist 46%
Vanilla 36%
Dominant 32%
Exhibitionist / Voyeur 18%

Hmmm…

Oct 252009
 

Her eyes burned.

Whether it was more from the column of smoke rising from the cauldron or the pain burning out of her heart, it was hard to tell by looking. Though once her body began to shudder in silent convulsions, the true source of the rapidly flowing tears was clear.

When she had asked Him for assistance in gaining freedom from the grip of her prior connection, He solemnly agreed. He recognized immediately the need for a ritual, to cleanse and exorcise the demon-tight hold the prior dominant’s words and actions still held over her, even all these months later.

At His command, she delivered to Him the collar, red and black, hand mended, retro-fit with the former’s eye to perfection. With it, came the flood of memories…


Naturally, her immediate thoughts flew backwards to the day the collar was purchased. Shopped for and selected together, she and the prior dominant found and chose what felt perfect. The discomfort began nearly immediately, however when she used her own money to pay for what she thought of his. After all, in her experience and knowledge, the collar always belonged to the Dominant.

When she was finally able to put aside her awkwardness of the situation’s protocol, fueled by her discomfort speaking about financial matters, she asked what made this circumstance different. It was then he spoke of the collar being hers, so she could finally have a talisman she could keep with her, an encouraging souvenir and reminder to make up for the lack she felt in a prior relationship.

The criticisms he made of the collar came quickly. The lead ring was silver, not the black of his preference. The fabric’s girth, held in place was quickly stretched taut by her size. What would have been manageable in stillness was easily shaken off from activity. Even though he knew these things when the neck piece was purchased, they became verbalized once the transaction was complete.

At each visit, the collar was to be presented in a ritualized fashion, worn and removed at his discretion. However, he informed her it would never, ever be worn publicly. Suddenly, a cherished symbol became double edged, reflecting her convoluted private and public roles, adding to the shame of the parts of their relationship kept hidden.

Although he often reassured her, even when things changed between them, when her role and duties seemed more unclear, he would never deny her. However, she found a great, painful divide between not being denied and actually being acknowledged. He made clear that if she attended any groups where he was with his girl, she would not be welcome by his side or at his feet. Often, when others around, she was not introduced, even as a friend, and was left feeling adrift, unsure of an appropriate level of focus to a man with such divided attention.

The contentment he had with her also faded quickly. When they first connected, she was delighted to be allowed to serve him, particular in club or party settings. Once that privilege was redistributed, she struggled to figure out her place. She fumbled in vain with vague protocols she picked up from her reading and watching others, with and without experience. When she was allowed to devote her energy to him, she floundered, desperate for every action to be worthy, to measure up to what he had experienced previously and raved about often. She obsessed so much on how and what she did, she lost sight of what she was and what she was to do.

Yet, her inner resolve and awareness grew, chasing away ghosts of her past, especially her childhood. She finally believed many secrets were unhealthy, particularly when sexuality was involved. She was beginning to embrace herself as a vibrant woman, sensual and intelligent, yet struggled to contrast the possibilities of her desirability against the gloom that now haunted her present connection.

Finally, on one painful Monday night, he released her. Her cheeks flamed scarlet from the public venue he chose. Despite the pain from the finality of his choice, she realized that the decision had been imminent for many weeks. He often touted the motto, “If it’s not fun, why do it?”; as if to prove it, she was now cut loose from a relationship she couldn’t mourn or acknowledge publicly.

The few friends that knew her situation reminded her with nearly zealous glee they had told her so, warning her it had been inevitable. She was told he was too much dominant for her, a point often reiterated whenever his name came up in conversation.

With the dissolution of their relationship, she was urged to make a significant change in who she was – and she did, this time, carrying forward a new strength and surety. It was time to start over, to make a sharp break with her old ways of thinking and doing.


Blinking back her tears, her mind returned from the cauldron of memories to the present ritual. Her current connection brought her to this point, wisely knowing that sometimes and some things can’t be just thrown away, or left with an endless wound, gaping and easily ripped wide. They needed to be singed shut, scalding the opening, painful and healing at once.

He knelt beside her, the bend of their legs pressed into the harsh concrete. Even with the layer of cardboard, her knees wailed their discomfort, until His calming presence shushed them and her racing thoughts. Just beyond them, rain showers thrummed rapidly, leaving their rhythmic patter in the gutter tins.

He dropped in the collar, drenching it in a thin reed of lighter fluid. Not with the claim of a Dominant presence, but the calm of a priest, He spoke, letting the universe, as well as her aching spirit know with certainty their intentions. She watched Him, mesmerized by His rhythmic delivery and soothing tone.

The fiery fabric continued to dart its tongue, whispering its last memories into her ear. With each crackle, however, the hypnotizing hiss further lost its hold. The initial blazing flames retreating into the confines of the ceremonial dish, dissolving as they watched.

He gave her the chance to speak. She struggled at the thought, feeling all had been said, completed by His consecration. Without intending or expecting to, her mouth opened, words spilling, swirling with the gusts of gray surrounding them.

“You released me, now i, at last, fully release you. May you have everything you need, most of what you want. You have no place with me any longer.” Her voice strengthened, reclaiming more of herself with every syllable until she stopped, almost abruptly.

The two continued to kneel, watching the once fast blaze crumble into ash. Once the glow flickered, then failed, He stood, lifting the nearly empty metal bowl and carried it into the open rain. Almost immediately, the remnants became diluted by the downpour, erasing the signs of what once had been searing hot.

At last, nearly as quickly as it began, the final bit of her was free, free to submit more fully, no longer in limbo between past and present. She knew where she belonged.

Fully in the moment, fully His, no longer held back, she breathed the virgin phrase, “Thank You Master.”

Jul 212009
 
My heart breaks tonight for a little girl that called me Momma.

Currently, I’m in the midwest, visiting my extended family with my kids. It is the annual chance for them to see, share and get to know each other. Last night, we had a sleepover at Grandma’s (my mom) house. Enjoying the fun were my two children and two smaller girl cousins. The younger of the two is Sunny.

Sunny is a sweet-natured two-year-old with a squeaky voice that repeats like a bird calling from the trees. She is a delicate looking creature, with spider web thin blonde hair and oceanic blue eyes.

Over and over, throughout the night and into today, she came to me, calling me Momma, reaching out to me with her skinny little arms for an embrace. When she first said it, I took it as she was looking or asking for her mother.  But I forgot momentarily that it is not as simple as it sounds either.

You see, Sunny really doesn’t even know that i’m not her mother.

Her biological mother has been in and out of the penal system, an on-again, off-again addict of various substances, for years. Currently, she is “free”, but her connection to Sunny has been tenuous at best, filled with promises to see her that fall through without explanation or excuse.

I admit, I was flummoxed at first: I did not want Sunny to feel rejected or confused, but I wouldn’t want her to think I was her momma, especially since it will be a year before I see her again. Then again, from what I understand, that may be sooner than Sunny’s mother will see her.


So, I am doing what little I can. I will close my eyes and send as much positivity as I can gather to Sunny and the patchwork of those that are trying to give her a sense of family. I want her to know she is cherished and special, safe even in the tumult surrounding her. I want her to know enveloping and unconditional love.

And tonight, I will hold my children a wee bit tighter, and hope that they never forget who their mom is, how much she loves them, how amazing she thinks they are, that they won’t need to find love from a stranger.

name changed to protect the individuals involved

Jun 212009
 

For all the Hallmark moments of Father’s Day, including cheerful ads picturing BBQs and Rockwell families, this holiday can serve as a reminder of painful circumstances.

Let us take a moment to reflect positivity back at the darkness coming from those connections, and remember those that:

  • suffer the pain of being unable to become a father;
  • are fathers themselves, but have lost a child, never again hearing those precious holiday wishes-or any others;
  • have lost their father to death;
  • feel a hole from not knowing or being connected to their father;
  • witness their father transform or ‘disappear’ through the ravages of addiction, Alzheimer’s or other debilitating diseases;
  • have endured abuses and traumas, abandonment and hurts at the hands of dads, father figures (even religious leaders called ‘Father’).

May this day, and those around us, find peace and joy.

Jun 172009
 

“Let’s do it tonight,” He said.

The words sent shivers into her, causing her eyes to pop open in a bit of surprise. They had talked about it, oftentimes quite objectively, but now came the time to actually put her mouth into action. He knew she wanted to do it, even if her wholesome soccer mom image was in sharp contrast. A part of her also wanted to resist, but knew it was pointless. Besides His word was final.

Checking, re-checking, spreading things out on the bed, His eyes moved methodically, clicking over mental lists of which she knew nothing. Keeping silent, she let Him move through the necessities until He was ready to pay attention to her again.

“Are you ready,” He asked. She nodded, her voice lost as she gulped back any apprehensions.

Protection was a must. He insisted on safety, always wanting to always keep her from harm, even when it did not occur to her. He reached into His bag, and covered Himself, keeping all delicate areas secure. Watching His ease reminded her how often He had done this before, even though it was their first time. Putting the covering on herself was part of the ritual; He touched her face gently, tucked back her hair, ensured everything was in place, that she was still comfortable about proceeding.

The room seemed warm, almost pressing in on her, on them. She was nervous, almost embarrassed at her naive lack of knowledge. It was something she had seen done but never paid much attention to the finer points; now she wished she had.

She took it in her hand. It was so much bigger than she imagined, and certainly had a lot more weight. The girth, as she gripped it firmly, willing it not to slip from her barely trembling fingers, proved quite substantial. Definitely not what she imagined, she thought to herself, slowly relaxing into Him as He instructed, shared His knowledge, His preferences.

Putting both hands around it, she held it carefully. She knew how potent it was, if nothing else by the way it drew her in, held her attention. Remembering what He said about the necessity for strength in the wrist, she tightened her muscles, yet attempting to keep her legs wide, her body loose, eyes where they needed to be.

Now was the moment to put into play every bit of His lessons, to feel His confidence in her, in what she could accomplish. After all, even though several had done this before her, this was a first time, chosen by Him, accepted by her because she chose Him.

Deep, long… lonnnggg breath in…
Sloooowwwwlllly…. exhalllling….

“And again,” she hears Him say.

Filling her lungs with the heated air, she repeats the breathing exercise a few more times. She flutters her eyes closed for just a microsecond, then focuses them like lasers before her, intent on their goal.

Outtttt when the breath, even, calm. Completely lost in the moment, she didn’t even flinch or buckle when the first crackling explosion came.

BAM!

The paper target swayed from her first bullet, showing a visible mark, clear where her efforts had gone.

She turned to Him, meeting His wide smile with her own.
She was hooked.

Jun 072009
 

i’ve been working deliberately to be less aware and concerned with my “image” as i continue on my journey. Even when i have been more focused, it seems i’ve misread myself or others have completely misjudged me. i know that i’ve been understood to be a brat, a SAM, or just generally being naughty in exchange for punishment; this is pretty far from the truth, as i hate to disappoint those with whom i care enough to play, and also recognize the painfulness of “true” (gads i hate that word) physical punishment.

i tend to play hard, and i do enjoy that. However, it is not the only style or method that appeals to me. Sometimes i draw the interest of those that solely want to wallop me harder than the last; on the other hand, there are sensual tops that hesitated to speak to me about bottoming because they thought of me as a “whipping post”. i’ve had connections to some awesome riggers, though most of our public play didn’t reflect that, and i continue to be seen as someone that doesn’t enjoy bondage (hint: not true!)

However, what i can speak to is how i’d hope to be seen; some of the characteristics i’d want to demonstrate and known for include:

  • Adventurous, willing to try new things, new styles;
  • Attentive to my Top, aware of His/Her preferences;
  • Aware of my mind and body, willing to “safe” as necessary to protect myself and my Top;
  • Adept at distancing a bit, especially for education (eg to help a newer Top learn a skill via feedback and information);
  • Sensual, sexual, but not giving sexual intimacies freely;
  • Playful, teasing, able to laugh (even sing blushes), when the situation and/or Partner calls for it.

During my journey, i’ve played with relatively few Tops. i prefer connecting with those that know me emotionally to a degree, so that i have the freedom to trust them more, to play “more”, in whatever way that plays out. By playing with a smaller circle of Tops, i also have the benefit of knowing their favorite styles of play, including preferred reactions. i know who enjoys a “vocal wiggler” vs “stoic and still.”

My enjoyment, in part, comes from meeting those (often unspoken) requests. How awesome it is to see the smile of the exchange, to feel the give and take partnership as we play swoons at the thought With that level of intimacy, i am often allowed a chance to show my gratitude for their interaction in more personal ways, that are more meaningful for all involved (yes, i’m an avowed foot and hand whore too grins)

My Dom, Dantes, is relatively new to being active in the BDSM lifestyle. His actual training and skills, in this framework is somewhat limited, but He is learning quickly, with His physical quickly catching up with His innate mental talents. i am fortunate He is interested in learning and improving His technical proficiencies, and i am happy to do what i can to assist in His journey, especially when it is a win-win for us both. smiles

Will my reputation end up matching how i view myself? Really, i’m not sure it matters. i’d rather someone would get to know me, not just who i am on paper or on a spanking bench, flaws and all. It certainly is what i’d rather know about you~smiles~

May 292009
 

Recently, i was asking a Dominant i respect a great deal advice on how i could stop myself from over-analyzing and over-thinking.

His very quick response,

D O N ‘ T

Don’t?! How very Zen-Yoda-simplistic this answer seemed to be. i was taken aback — i have been taking the time to examine it since.

Yet, it suddenly hit me – i think i finally have the simple answer, the basic litmus test for happiness and living in the moment:

Is “this” where i want to be or not ?

Someone i once knew often drilled into me, “Simple questions. Simple answers.” Never more than now does that phrase resonate as i’ve been trying to stop myself from the destructive pattern of picking apart the healthy, and side stepping the negative.

Of course, like most good advice, it seems i’ve been giving this very same answer to people. i’ve encouraged them to look at their current situation, challenged them to stay or to go. Yet, did i hear the same message for myself? Of course not smiles

When i’ve heard people speaking of living in the moment in the past, i’ve typically bristled. Those people, it seemed to me, were either ignoring the past and its impact completely, or unable/unwilling to look forward to steps toward goals or a positive future.

With these sudden (to me) revelations, i don’t see it quite so one or the other anymore.

By answering in the affirmative, “yes, this is a place i want to be,” this does not say the effects of the past cannot be examined, or that changes cannot be made and goals defined. However, it does force a “put up or shut up” attitude. It does not keep me from evolving and growing; the answer to the question can change. A negative response does not mean i have to “leave”, but it does mean i need tomove.

So, here i am, in the right here and right now – is this where i want to be?

i look in the mirror, see my reflection, with eyes that match my mouth’s smile, and i know the answer is “YES”.

Apr 242009
 

The silence splinters as I hear a door slam on the other side of wall. I look up, frustration knotting my face. “What now 13?!” I ask, my voice instantly going higher, louder.

My shrillness is met by the full strength and pitch of an newly adolescent girl-woman, matching my words, my tone, beat by beat. “What do you care,” she snarls back at me, hands on her developed hips. “You only care about 8 anyway.”

The raised voices send 8 scurrying toward a corner, retreating back into a thick book, burying herself in invisibility.

I stare back at 13, trying to find words to dispute the argument, but they don’t come. She has a point. After all, 8 is relatively so small, so tender, her victim status unquestionable.

“Do you even know about me? Do you even remember about me? Do you evencare?!” She shrieks, the pitch higher with each question.

“13, I do care about you. You are special.” I try to sooth her rage, but the words sound trite against her brittle defenses.

“So what if I’m not little. Do you think I wanted to have boobies at 8 years old? To have my P-E-R-I-O-D at 9? Do you think I like looking like this?!”

I look her over, trying to see her without the buildup of animosity. I see her body, developed, womanly, including over-sized breasts and hips, gone is “baby fat,” but replaced with “pleasingly plump.” She is an emotional, ordinary teenage girl, but trapped in a woman’s body, complete with a “mature” hairdo, courtesy of our mother.

“I’m not a whore you know,” she growls at me. “Just because that guy made me get in his truck, and gave me $20 after he touched my tits, does not mean I’m a whore.”

“I know. I never said you were,” my voice soft, trying to ease her tension.

Continuing on her diatribe, the words tumble out. “I didn’t want him to touch me. I didn’t. I don’t even like it when they look at me, especially that way.”

Her full lips start to tremble, her veneer crumbling. I move closer to her, not quite touching her, but trying to let her feel my love for her.

“I’m not a bad girl, you know. I’m not a slut. Why did the stupid doctor have to ask if I am sexually active.” I nod, recognizing the point of her shame. “I didn’t know how to answer him,” 13 sputters. “Yes, I am, but not because I am trying to be, want to be. Why does it have to count against me? Why can’t I just say no I’m not?

“I know it feels good sometimes, sorta, but I don’t want it. But I guess I am a dirty girl. Even my friends must know. Did you see that poster I got for my birthday?Why cucumbers are better,” she relates with a sneer, then regains her gusto.

“If they only knew. I didn’t want the baby sitter’s son’s dick in my ass. I don’t like having to feel grandpa stab and paw at me, when I’m just trying to enjoy fishing with my dad or visiting Grandma. They’re right! At least cucumbers don’t hurt!”

“No honey, it’s not all about hurt and pain. There’s love and being loved,” I gently try to remind her.

Her eyes soften slightly, remembering the magic of a newly ignited relationship, her first. I watch her face release their clamp across her forehead, as she thinks of the sweet words she’s shared with a redhead 17 year old. He’s called her beautiful, special, gorgeous, says she makes him happy. And 13, for moments at a time, almost believes him, and believes he isn’t saying it to hurt her, to use her.

But just as quickly, her face slams shut again. “Love doesn’t matter. I’m just dirty, and no good for someone that is looking for someone Christ-like, for someone that cares so much about church. Besides, he can’t take me to his church without them knowing what I am, what I do. And I can’t be a virgin bride to him, and I know it matters, so why do I even bother?”

She stands rigidly before me, her energy spent on her tirade, leaving me in the wake speechless. What words will help her believe that she is worthy of love and respect, in everyone’s eyes, including God … and, most importantly, her own?

I am grateful she has fight in her, but the rage frightens me, sends away those around us, especially those tender hearted enough to care. I only hope that she puts the bonfire out, before it leaves her in ashes. My small bucket of water, mostly culled from my tears, has not been enough to keep it from spreading.

The only words I find my embrace delivers into her body like a verbal tattoo, “You are good … and good enough.”

I sit back, and watch for the anti-venom to take effect. And, I wait. And, I hope.

Apr 222009
 

Sitting on the couch, my legs curled, in what used to be called Indian style, I saw you rush by. “Come here please,” I called, before you completely turned the corner. You peeked, looking back at me, startled at being seen.

“Yes. You,” i encouraged, your eyes dropping quickly. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. I promise.”

You slink toward me, your mop top, home permed hair tossing a curl over a corner of your face. I immediately recognize the timid look, seeing your inner turmoil reflect being caught, watching you prepare to bolt to the safety of a stack of books. As tenderly as dealing with a skittish animal, for indeed I am, I hold out my palm up so you can see I have no tricks waiting to catch you. “Come on 8, please,” I cajole, scooting and making a bit more room to sit beside me.

At last you sit beside me. After all, you are a good girl, and always do what adults tell you to do. You were raised to respect your elders, and I am over three decades older than you, five times your lifetime. I slide the tendril covering your hazel eye, tucking it behind your ear. I smile at you, trying to send every bit of reassurance to you, but I can feel your breath quicken, watch your pulse pound on your pale throat.

“8, do you know how amazing you are?”

You stare blankly at me, as if I had spoken a foreign language. And, indeed, I suppose I had. It was the language of empowerment and affirmation, with words you didn’t know or recognize. “Do you,” I ask again, hoping to elicit words from the small body beside me.

I lean over, gently kissing you on top of the head. I am careful not to touch you too much, for I know you expect that to happen, especially if you don’t want it. Barely above a whisper, I plant the sound into your being, “You are, you know.” You sit very still, willing yourself to melt away as you did so many times before, and will do again and again.

You keep waiting for the trap to spring, for these sweet words to capture and injure you somehow. I watch you turn them over in your head, trying to find the detonation device, puzzled by being unable to do so. I cock my head, making sure I reveal my most open face to you. You see the smile, and are torn between wanting to savor the moment, and being scared that my expression is one that will prove you have been caught.

Still sitting, our bodies barely touching, “Do you know why I say this?”

I see the pain cross your face. Immediately, your instincts revolt, and it shows in your knotted fist, buckled between our bodies. Your chin muscles flex slightly, as you begin to tighten and release, the precursor to another headache. I watch your mouth gape, trying to find words to argue the point while still managing to be appropriate to an adult. I don’t make it easy for you. I keep hoping you’ll find the reasons yourself. The tense moments pass, and we each begin to fidget, frustrated within ourselves.

“Oh 8, you really are. I know you don’t believe me. You’ve already given up being amazing, but you really are. You are smart and funny and strong and beautiful and giving. You do, and will, bring joy to people around you. One day, you will even make it part of your being when you explore a whole new way of living.”

My enthusiasm overwhelms you; it is simply more than you can grasp. You are struggling to survive. Day after day, you offer yourself, to protect your brother from the monster that babysits you both. Living closest, you are often thrust with your grandfather, who touches you time and again, making you feel a traitor to the grandmother that has loved you special, out of dozens of grandchildren. He is praised for his righteousness, yet you have made an unholy alliance with him, trying hard to keep the peace, trying not to let anyone find out what you are doing as an unwilling adulterer.

I let you lean gently against me. “Oh, 8, I know… I know…” Repeating rhythmically, settling into your heartbeat, sending the message into your soul.

“You don’t have to struggle anymore,” I whisper to you. “It’s ok. Really. You’ve done an amazing job, but you don’t have to do it anymore. Why don’t you let me take over? I know it’s not fair. And, besides, they can’t hurt you now. Open your eyes, and you will see they’re gone.”

Watching the tear slide down your face, the cracks of your protective dam widen, just enough to let in the affirmations like desert rations.

I have seen you, and I know you survive. You are me.


This is continued, in a way at Listening to 13

Apr 122009
 

Greetings GDsN Members:

Thank you all for taking the time to belong to GDsN. For the past 2-1/2 years, GDsN has been very special to me, as a place to make new connections, to learn, to grow and to share.

That said, i have decided i am unable to dedicate the time to this group as owner to adequately maintain the cornerstones of its existence. Rather than allow it to become over run by spam, a free-for-all debate, an opportunity for trolling for fresh meat, or any other degradation of its original design, this group will cease being a discussion forum for the indefinite future. However, i do plan to continue to allow members to join, and the links and message archive to be accessed. (i will continue to be a “kinky linky”, so please share information regarding local groups, etc.)

While GDsN has been unique, i believe many of our purposes are being met in other ways at this time. Please allow me to suggest FetLife and its growing community. There are groups dedicated to newcomers, including novices and newbies. Feel free to “friend” me on FetLife; i’m there as “joyspreader4u” (please let me know that you’re from GDsN, so i may add you more quickly to my friends list).

Best wishes to each of you, regardless of the direction of your journey.

Warmly and respectfully,
joy

Apr 072009
 

i’ve been wanting to write for a while, but it never seems to be the right time. The words keep tumbling around in my head, usually in the middle of the night when rest is precious enough, or during the day when privacy is the rare commodity.

Stepping out into a new life decade (hmm… for some reason, no one is assuming i’m referring to my 20s), and so many recent changes, i’m taking stock of what i have, know, need and want.

How lucky am i to have had such motivational people in my life, determined to help me see another way of seeing and doing things. i look back at what lessons i’ve thankfully gleaned from our time, and here is some of what i’ll take gratefully forward with me:

  • Enjoy, relish, live and love in the moment. Don’t waste it by regretting what was, over-analyzing what is, or agonizing about what will be.
  • Learn to have fun. And, it’s never to late to learn that. Gosh, i can’t tell you how good it feels to really laugh. i’ve caught myself now and then smiling, even throwing my head back and laughing throughout my whole body.
  • A person can be a good Dominant or submissive (or anywhere along the relationship, dynamic spectrum), but not be good for you. It is not necessarily a reflection on the other person, as much as how things fit together, including temperaments and timing.
  • The best you are at that moment, with that set of knowledge and skills, is the best you can be at that moment in time. Don’t torment yourself knowing you’d do things differently now; simply resolve yourself to not make the same mistakes, especially in the same way ever again.
  • Never expect people to love and care for you more than you can care for yourself. If you can’t invest in you, don’t expect others to want to do the same.
  • None of us can completely see what is (or was) in another’s heart; no sight as clear as hindsight.
  • When you think you’re at the end of your rope, look and see if you really have both ends. Maybe (often) you have everything you need already.
  • People come into our life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.
  • No matter what power we exchange or authority we transfer, we are still ultimately responsible for ourselves and our choices.
  • We find what we seek, whether we realize we were looking.
  • ‘If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself. What isn’t part of ourselves doesn’t disturb us.’ -Herman Hesse
  • Sometimes pain is just pain, and there is no other way around it than to stop getting it. We have the right and responsibility to call safe words, to step back in life and in the lifestyle. Neither is a sign of weakness, but strength, and should be seen as such by those that connect.
  • No one has a right to my power, unless i have chosen to give it to them, and that gift is revocable. i am always, ultimately, in control – at least of the things i can control. Let go of those things you can’t.
  • i am enough. Enough said.

How powerful i’ve felt lately doing some of the (seemingly) smallest tasks. i was able to say “No, thank you” to someone that made me uncomfortable, without dodging, feeling guilty or mean. i was able to say to someone that i’ve long held in a great deal of respect, when asked to do something, “You’re not mydominant.” i was able to tell someone i respected, “Thank you for your opinion, but i don’t believe that’s true for me”, rather than simply trying to “wear” or fit his interpretation.

All these lessons that i’ve always told others, all this advice i’ve given, finally it is becoming true to me too (and enough of trying to play the “That’s different” card.)

i never again will be a victim, of what happened to me when i was younger, when i was an adult at various points, nor in my current life. My soul will not be destroyed by abusers, including the damage i can do to myself; i’ve reclaimed me (or, in many ways, claimed myself for the first time).

i feel like i’m looking into a kaleidoscope, and the view has changed. i can’t remember what it was before, or even make sense of what seemed logical. It is a completely new way of viewing things.

i simply feel amazing, never more empowered, never more sure that my life belongs to me.

Thank you for sharing it with me smiles

Feb 012009
 

Yesterday, i received an elected “honor”, one upon which was voted on – and one that i wanted to hand back.

As much as i’ve been trying to eschew labels, both positive and negative, i resist this one quite heartily.

i was named: Most Bratty

There are those that would say that “brat” is a good term. As a matter of fact, i’m friends with a number of people that incorporate it to different degrees as a badge of honor, some to the point of incorporating it into their screen names or personas.

That said, the idea of being called a brat simply repulses me. Perhaps it is the fact that i have younger children, and i would be mortified to think of my children being so ill behaved that they had earned this designation (and, by association, reflect poorly on my attempts at parenting).

i read and re-read the various definitions and simply cannot find anything that makes me look at it as anything favorable. i have been told that in the lifestyle, brat can have an entirely different connotation, but i’m not getting it; i’m just getting labeled with it!

i taunt. i tease. i tempt. i torment. But, i’d also like to think that i can be good, kind, giving, even occasionally obedient and respectful, particularly when well inspired. i try to be a positive, even if i don’t always succeed.

But, a brat?! Can anyone help me have a different view point? Or, i’ll take honest criticism: What scored me this “tag”, and how can i get rid of it?

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.

………………………………………………..

Perception

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

………………………………………………..

Connections

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.

again…

please

(c) December 08

Dec 282008
 

When you spoke to me today, i was overwhelmed hearing the hurt in your voice. insert many hugs here. I wanted to take the time to write you now, to be sure i don’t forget to tell you the things i may not have been able to then

Although we have known it was coming for a long time (and some of us have wished for it for even longer), it doesn’t mean there isn’t pain, lots of it. Coping with Grief and Loss: Guide to Grieving and Bereavement

i’m genuinely sorry for the dissolution of the relationship, or at least what you thought it was. When these things happen, the pain comes not only from the “break”, but from realizing what you wanted it to be will never happen, and may never have been. It is time to grieve those plans for special moments, rituals and play. Allow yourself to cry, then remember when it is time to move on. Don’t be surprised when emotions from this catch you off guard days, weeks, months later; then again, sooner than you think will also be days that he will be irrelevant other than making you appreciate all the more where you are.

Sometimes, people find it easy to assume that because you are the one that asked for release, it is somehow easier. i know it isn’t. If anything it is harder as you have to be proactive, which when you have been practicing allowing someone else take the lead in the relationship can feel so very difficult. But, __good for you__ for doing it. In the long run, you will be so glad that you took the control, and that you don’t have to feel “dumped” by him.

i want you to remember who you are is not determined by whose you are. You are slave (or submissive, or however you end up identifying) because of who you are inside, not because of who is at your side. It is not in what you do that makes you submissive, but who and what you are.

And, that also means that if he turns out not to be a “Master”, a Dom or even much of a top, that __you are no less a submissive or slave.__

Look, listen and learn from how he behaved in the relationship. Is that acceptable to you now/in a future place? Can you be content with his frequency and level of communication? of commitment? of devotion to you? of honesty (in what he says, doesn’t say, and how much of it)? Can you trust what he says? trust that he has your best interest at heart?

Another analogy:
You are a house, no longer brand new, but certainly still very much structurally sound. Until you have an owner, basic maintenance still needs to be done: mow the grass, keeping things clean. One day, someone will find you and realize what a great home you will be. That doesn’t mean he won’t want to make changes, some more major than others. Some rooms need an overhaul (time to get rid of the avocado refrigerator haha), and some just need a fresh coat of paint or new fixtures. A smart owner would not “buy” a house just to tear it down, but will appreciate the fine points of the house he has found.

No one (that matters, certainly) is looking at you and judging. His actions, such as when he chose to tuck you away, to avoid you, to not communicate, reflect onhim – not on you. You can look at your actions, your choices and know that no mistakes were made from malice. Errors in judgment should be addressed, corrected, even punished if necessary. But punishment, particularly in a growing relationship, does not include cutting someone off without contact for weeks at a time.

My dear friend, you are not alone, no matter how much it may feel like it today. You are not the only one that has made mistakes in judgment, but you made the best choices with the information, knowledge and self-awareness you had at the time. That means — stop beating yourself up! As smart as you are, i know it can be hard to feel “stupid”. But, it isn’t stupid to go through learning experiences; ultimately, it will help you appreciate when you get past this lesson (ah, the learning never stops wry sigh).

Keep reaching out to me, to others. Here is a group that may help as you transition too:
>Submissive Survivors – The purpose of this list is to provide support and open discussion for submissives and slaves, whether they are having issues in their current relationship, or are recovering from the emotional upheaval following the end of a D/s or M/s relationship.

Please remember it will get better … and i will always love you! You ARE awesome and amazing!

~~ joy
(who also speaks from the experience of having been “tinuviel bound”, “cailin”, “JoyDreamsGirl”, “Hisjoy”, “fish”, “lsg” and “Dantès’s joy”)

Oct 302008
 

NOTE: This is an article i returned to today i wanted to share; this corresponds with my current focus on connecting with myself, to better connect in other ways too.

Tools for Inner Work By Jack Rinella
for Issue number 11
Wednesday, February 27, 2008

At a recent seminar an attendee asked me how one deals with fear. It’s an important question and touches on an area of BDSM that we often neglect, which I call “inner work.”

Much of what we do has an effect on our psychological state, including emotions, self-esteem, and perception. Even though we may be into kink for fun, it is impossible not to note that the fun leads to these changes, if only because during the fun we feel better. If we didn’t feel better we wouldn’t be doing it would we?

Now I don’t think that the dungeon is the place where one should do inner work. Facing one’s issues is best left to times and places that are conducive to private reflection and calm reason. On the other hand, a player who never deals with his or her “issues” is most likely not to grow as a person and certainly won’t be able to grasp the true depths that can be found in doing what we do.

And yes, we all have issues, that is, areas of our lives that cause hurt, fear, and doubt; parts of ourselves that are wounded, hesitant, defensive, and/or aggressive. That, by the way, includes me.

So what are some of the ways to overcome our inner obstacles in order to reach our full human capacity? My answer to that attendee was to present this list. I hope it’s helpful to you:

Before I plunge into this list, I want to remind you that it is short and hardly has much detail to it. Each topic here could be a whole book in itself so you’d be well-advised to find out more about the topics that strike you as meaningful. For instance, you might want to get a book about journaling or meditating to give yourself a better idea as to how to use those tools.

Journal. It’s natural for me to suggest to keep a journal, since I’m a writer. For many people, writing is a means of self-expression wherein one can safely reflect and review one’s feelings. The good thing about keeping a journal is that doing so is safe, since it’s usually quite private. A journal also provides an opportunity to review one’s feelings over a longer period of time, thereby reducing the power of emotion in the moment while still crediting our feelings as one basis (and only one) for decision-making.

Share. Several of my “tools” are going to seem redundant, sharing being in that category. That is purposeful since each tool has its unique methodology. So I encourage people to have someone with whom they feel safe to share their inner selves, to unload. That person ought to be one who can handle the heat of your feelings without being threatened. In fact they may be a person who only listens, since we all need a willing ear. It may be best that they not be intimate with us, more a friend than a lover or partner.

Experiment. Allow yourself the chance to try things out without committing yourself for the long haul or the deep experience. Experimenting means to experience something in a controlled situation so that you can have some feedback as to how to proceed. It is a slow exploration, a putting one’s toe in the water so to speak. It doesn’t have to be a big plunge, just enough of an experience to give you something upon which to reflect.

Research. Find access to experts, either in seminars, through books or videos, or one on one and find answers to the serious questions that are on your mind.

Meditate. Learn the skills necessary to relax your mind, either through one of the many meditation programs or perhaps in something like a martial art program. You can do this through tapes, books, and seminars. Really it’s a matter of taking time for yourself, however you feel you want to do it.

Do Something Else. Sometimes it just helps to walk away from the problem for a short time. I do it all the time, such as when I garden or do carpentry. These breaks allow me to see the big picture of life and to stop being caught in the minutia of daily living. Keep in mind that what’s bothering you now probably won’t make much difference a hundred years from now, no matter how big the crisis seems at the moment.

Give Yourself Permission. Most of us are our worst critics. Having accepted the “you shoulds” that the world imposes upon us, we fail to accept the fact that we are who we are, and probably not whoever everyone else wants us to be. We don’t have to comply to others’ images of whom we ought to be. We only need to be our authentic selves, not necessarily an easy chore but one that is quite rewarding.

Look in the Mirror. When the wicked step mother asked the mirror who was the fairest of them all, she was using the mirror for the wrong purpose. Mirrors are meant to reveal the person looking into the mirror, not someone else. So I have used a mirror to look at myself and then to remind myself that what I see is a loveable and capable individual. Do I need to feel loved? Then I tell my reflection that I love the person I am seeing. After all, if I can’t love me, who can?

Ask Others, Yourself, and the Universe. No one says you have to do this inner work all by yourself. Seek help from competent counselors, from your inner self, and from the Universe. I often ask for help just before I fall asleep, by saying something like this? “Self, I’m going to sleep and I promise to listen to whatever you want me to know so that I can overcome this challenge and do what is best for myself.”

Dream. That, of course, leads us to the world of dreams. I don’t use dreams to tell the future as I believe dreams are simply a reflection of who we are and everyone in a dream is part of the dreamer. Dreams, then, have information about us in them. They are also great places to have experiences that will change our self-image and repair our past.

Enter into a Dialogue. Asking and sharing can be combined into a dialogue, a process of mutual reflection in which both parties respond to the communication from the other. It’s important that the dialogue be honest, non-threatening, and without expectations of what it will or will not accomplish. It probably needs to be long-term and on-going to be much good.

Make Diagrams: Pros and Cons, Ego and Self, Past and Future. I find value in making lists in two columns with the pros on one side, the cons on the other. One can use any approach for this. For instance you might want to make a list of the “worst that can happen” or “my wants versus my needs.” Just as in journaling, putting things in writing can help make their meaning and importance clearer.

With whatever tools you decide to grow, it is important that you be kind and gentle to yourself. How old are you? It took you that long to get here so don’t think that you’ll change your life overnight, unless of course you were born yesterday.

Have a great week. You can leave me email at mrjackr@leathermail.com or visit my website at http://leatherviews.c.topica.com/maakip5abFnx5bsM3Unb/ where you can subscribe to this column and receive it weekly. Copyright 2008 by Jack Rinella, all rights reserved.

Oct 262008
 

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

Oct 192008
 

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 makeus 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 deeplyregret, 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…

Oct 122008
 

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

Oct 042008
 

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 haszero ability to get them out the door in the morning (which equals anytime for anything before noon)?

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.

Sep 192008
 

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…

Feb 012008
 

(Copied from another source, but full of ideas. What are yours? What do you want to add?)

One of the main factors, for me in feeling truly Owned is to be constantly reminded throughout the day of Master’s control. These reminders can be subtle or really obtrusive. The more often a slave is reminded of her submission, the deeper it becomes….and the more fulfilling. So here are some ideas You might want to try… And no matter what rules You decide to make Your own, please….be consistent. If You are unwilling to take the time to enforce the rules You make, then there may as well be no rules at all. There is nothing in the world that will make a slave feel less loved than to have a Master/Mistress who ignores her transgressions and does not exert Their Dominance.

  1. Have her wear slave bells. The constant soft jingling of the bells is soothing and a certain reminder of her submission.
  2. When she has broken a rule, talk to her as You punish….and make her speak in detail about why what she did was wrong.
  3. Make her take her shoes off every day as soon as she enters Your house.
  4. A beautiful, special collar will make any slave joyous. Take the time to select the right one, and have her wear it as often as possible.
  5. Have her call You each day at a specified time, no excuses.
  6. Give her anklets and tell her she must wear one of them every day, no excuses.
  7. Whenever possible (i.e. no curious young-uns about), have her kneel before You and ask to accompany You upon the furniture.
  8. Choose her hairstyle and go with her to get it cut to Your specifications.
  9. Whenever possible (i.e. no curious young-uns about), have her display herself whenever You come into the room…..legs spread, shirt unbuttoned. No matter what position You take, she is to be sure Your view is unobstructed
  10. When around the kids or vanilla friends/family, make sure she has an alternative title for You besides Master…..such as “my Love” etc.
  11. Use her sexually in a rough, selfish way when You feel like it….interrupting whatever she was doing.
  12. Chose a food that she dislikes and have her eat a small portion every day for a week.
  13. Have her crawl to bed each night.
  14. Bring her a stuffed animal each time You go out of town.
  15. Choose her clothing each day.
  16. Have her get Your daily wardrobe ready for You the night before….laid out, ironed etc.
  17. After punishment, have her kiss Your boots and thank You for loving her enough to correct her.
  18. Have her bring a warm towel and wash and massage Your feet each day after work.
  19. Get her tattooed (Your choice of art and location) optional
  20. Get her pierced (or preferably if You are trained, do it Yourself).
  21. Get her branded.
  22. Respect, but push her limits.
  23. Ask her each night what she did that day that You would not have approved of. This gets her in the habit of being completely honest, and also makes her conscious of the things she could do better each day.
  24. Teach her exactly how You want her to kneel, and demand perfection.
  25. Reward her by allowing her to please You sexually.
  26. Supervise her workout routine.
  27. Each night she is to kneel next to the bed asking permission to sleep with her Master, and each night she does, she is to kneel by the bed in the morning and thank her Master for the privilege.
  28. Have her polish Your boots weekly, on her knees at Your feet.
  29. Negotiate until you are both comfortable with the terms and then sign a contract.
  30. Giver her a writing assignment: “The definition of Pain – 1000 words”
  31. Have her keep a diary of her journey into submission.
  32. Instruct her that she may never get herself something to eat or drink in Your presence without first asking You if You want something.
  33. Some evenings, keep her on a leash and take her with You no matter what You do….even if You do not speak to her or include her in Your activities.
  34. When appropriate, she is to speak when spoken to.
  35. Reward her by giving her delicious pleasure.
  36. On occasion, share her.
  37. When it suits You, instruct her not to make eye contact with You without Your command.
  38. Have her keep her body clean shaven at all times.
  39. Conduct random inspections of her body to make sure she keeps herself to Your specifications.
  40. Make her wear a butt-plug under her clothes whenever she goes out alone.
  41. For transgressions: have her write Your name on the bottom of her foot and tell her to remember she is walking on You with each step. (This is harder to do that You might think….)
  42. Master the art of the meaningful piercing stare…..
  43. Give her reading assignments.
  44. Test her on the reading assignments, to make sure she learned the appropriate lessons from each.
  45. Instruct her to keep her toenails painted perfectly everyday, and check to see that they are before bed
  46. Make it her responsibility to put the toys away after play and punishment, and to keep them clean and neat.
  47. Reward her by letting her name her favorite scene, toys, etc.
  48. Call her Your slut, Your pet, etc.
  49. Have her make a list of the 10 things that make her the most self-conscious, uncomfortable or embarrassed.
  50. Work with her, having her do the things on the list (if possible), so that she conquers those fears and hesitations.
  51. Sometimes, pamper her…..wash her body and hair, having her remain perfectly still as You turn her and move her about.
  52. Hand feed her like a small child on occasion.
  53. Have her eat from a dog bowl on occasion.
  54. For transgressions: make her wear a sign to the next public function naming her crime. (ouch)
  55. Praise her dedication when she has pleased You well.(this you do already…. i love it.
  56. Instruct her that she is never to touch Your body without permission.
  57. Have her write a meditation about her submission, devotion and trust in You….to be said aloud each night before falling asleep.
  58. Some days allow her no clothing whatsoever (when practical).
  59. For transgressions: deny her play. No pain for you, bad girl….hehehe.
  60. In the same ilk, For transgressions: deny her orgasm…..give her sex, but she can’t cum.
  61. For transgressions: Command that she is to be silent for a week. She may not speak, and will take whatever pain or pleasure You give as silently as possible.
  62. Treat her like a pet in front of friends, making her present herself, turn herself, etc.
  63. Giver her a writing assignment: “The definition of Obedience – 1000 words”
  64. Have her wear a toe ring.
  65. Tell her one morning that she must cum for You 15 times that day, and then write about the day.
  66. Have her wear nipple clamps under her clothing out to dinner.
  67. On Your birthday, let her receive Your spankings.
  68. Spend time training her how to move gracefully to please You.
  69. For transgressions: stand her in the corner like a 3 year old.
  70. Always flog her after completion of a task, even if it was satisfactory. A well flogged slave is a happy slave.
  71. Speak about her as if she were not present.
  72. For transgressions: deny her any D/s at all for a week…..letting her do just as she pleases, not allowing her to serve You in any way, no punishment, no instruction, no play, banning titles of respect, etc. This will shame her and certainly make her strive to please You when it is over and she is in her place again.
  73. Defend her honor to those who would disrespect Your prized possession.
  74. Pet her often.
  75. Make her be webMistress for Your huge site, DallasBDSM. hehehehe
  76. Whenever possible (i.e. no young-uns about), have her sleep in a cage.
  77. Buy her sexy or slutty clothes to Your liking.
  78. Teach her things….expand her knowledge…..in a patient Fatherly way.
  79. When You are away, call her and have her masturbate for You.
  80. If You choose to play with others, make sure Your slave knows who is first in Your heart…..and that some things are just for her.
  81. Remember her birthday.
  82. Lead her with a loving fist in her hair.
  83. Wake her each morning with an assigned task for the day…..and make sure it is done by day’s end.
  84. Teach her patience.
  85. Videotape Your sessions and watch them together.
  86. On long trips, have her wear double dildo latex underwear.
  87. Hand feed her chocolate.
  88. Have her place her regular wear shoes in a line by the front door. They should be in a straight line with the laces tucked inside, or the buckles buckled. Inspect them periodically.
  89. Keep a list of her transgressions in a little book….let her slip for a while…thinking You are not noticing…..then one day, bring out the book and have a day of atonement.
  90. Tickle her just because You can.
  91. Have her be perfectly still and quiet while You bring her extreme pleasure…..when she moves or makes a sound punish her then return to the pleasure.
  92. Keep her locked in her collar when You are home. You place it on her…..having her kneel. Wear the key to the lock around Your neck.
  93. When possible, have her cook and serve Your dinner wearing nothing but an apron and collar.
  94. Buy her a Polaroid camera and give her assignments to take pictures of herself for You in certain outfits or positions, etc.
  95. Remember to kiss and caress away her tears.
  96. Don’t be afraid to bring her to tears, for they are Yours as well.
  97. Take her and the dog to the park, both on leashes.
  98. Caress her, whisper into her ear that You love her, nibble on her belly, lick her thighs and make love to her until she cries.
  99. Have her fall asleep with Your cock in her mouth and tell her You expect it to be there when You awake.
  100. Occasionally, fulfill her fantasy.
  101. Master’s word is the last word. #101 should be #1

(Anonymous; if you are the author, please let me know)

Dec 312007
 

Aswirl in April

Wednesday April 4, 2007 – 03:30pm

i just realized it has been about a year that i started exploring the BDSM / Ds lifestyle. Trying to find and claim happiness. Trying to define who i am. Trying to let the voices inside of me have a chance to be heard. And now, a year later, i’m still in that exploring, learning stage; i have more knowledge, but in so many ways i feel no closer to understanding.

Brief summary/timeline:

  • Reconnected with first love; found out that he has discovered he is a dominant (explaining why she was never able to resist when he’d come calling). Real or not, who knows, but not apparently able to become part of her reality;
  • Got caught up with an online Dom – someone who listened and heard some of her darkest secrets and places, and didn’t run. Someone who opened the door on a particular brutal demon in her past, and stood by her as she did the first thrust into its heaving chest. That dragon has no power over me now, though neither does he;
  • Experienced a whirlwind, realtime, though extremely limited connection and collaring. But, evolving from the spectacular way it crashed and burned, i also experienced dark, scary places of fear and betrayal
  • Found amazing men and women who have defended, protected and loved me – utterly unconditionally. They have restored my hope, my belief in the world, and myself. What amazing gifts.

So, as i continue to plod along, i continue to try on different “outfits”, turning this way and that in the mirror. What looks good on me? What fits me? Is something too tight? too loose? too revealing?

i was released from my collar over the weekend. We mutually decided that we are not at the same place in our journey. Perhaps our roads aren’t even going to the same destination. We are still very good, very special friends. We will be sharing “custody” of “Baby” (our online discussion group, GDsN. So, in many ways, things won’t change, but in others, they already have.

i’ve been told i’m a lousy submissive, a disobedient, willful brat. Yet, i know i don’t like being without limits. i like knowing where the end of my leash is, what my boundaries are. i like not winning or getting my way just because i can. i want to be made better, for someone to care how i improve.

And, yes, right now, i also think i want to explore not just submission, but harder and deeper discipline and masochism. Yet, i’m torn sometimes. Some dominants would let me explore and everything with anyone, knowing in their mind, i’d still be bound to them, yet that idea leaves me feeling ‘unbound’ in some ways. You show your love for your puppy by fencing it in.

But, for those that want to cherish just me – and want me to cherish just them involves sacrifice – and belief that i’m worthy of that sort of commitment. When i have that sort of situation before me, do i look around a bit simply to ensure i have a backup plan? Perhaps, it’s not so much wanting others, but wanting to know others would/could still want me. When will i learn to be able to just release and trust that i really am, really can be enough?

On the other hand, yes, i can top, but does that mean i want to be a Dominant, even if my inner Domme does claw her way to the surface now and then? She is strong, determined – and then ends up leaving me sad and empty when she gets what she wants.

*Who am i?
What am i?

Who am i becoming?
i sure don’t…
not right now …
not today…
not at this moment …

Does anyone know?
Will i ever know?

If you know, will you let me know?*

………………………………………………..

Hear Ye! Hear Ye!#

I officially proclaim… WOW!

Friday April 6, 2007 – 03:40pm

During this holy time for many religions, celebrating rebirth and renewal, as well as simply finding the cathartic joy in spring cleaning, i have personally declared this “Wipe Out Weekend.” (WOW)

As part of my goal for WOW, i want to extend a hand of civility and renewal to any and all those that have been hurt, by my actions and inactions, by rumor or innuendo. As well, i sincerely regret any that i may have injured inadvertently, either by catching them in the crossfire of unnecessary battling, or not maintaining the healthy relationship we should.

I urge each of you to jump in and take part in WOW too. Let’s erase the pains of the past, and move toward the joys of the future. Even for those that it seems true reconciliation may never occur, i hope for cordial treatment in future encounters. We may not be able to forget things that have happened or words that have been uttered, but i no longer want to use them to darken my view on others or on opportunities.

It is often said (though i don’t always remember well), that we cannot control how others react, but merely how we respond. I am choosing, starting today, right now, to respond with positive rather than negative. It is up to you now 🙂

Let’s WOW each other – and enjoy a new day!

………………………………………………..

The Helga Theory

Monday April 23, 2007 – 10:40pm

i am so grateful this was shared with me. it helped put into words some of the frustrations, misgivings, confusion, disappointment and sadness i have been feeling lately.

Inside every woman is an independent woman who represents her assertive drive, or ego if you will. Ego is not a bad word… unless it is used for selfish purposes only. Our ego or drive… gets us up in the morning. Gives us the determination to deal with day to day things, strive towards a goal, makes decisions, gets us out of harms way, and pushes us to stand up in front of others with our opinions knowing that all will not be received well. This is Helga. As you can see, Helga wears many hats. Most of which, many times, may be the proverbially cone bra & helmet. You see… Helga (who has grown much larger as she gets older) also has another job. She protects the other person living inside this woman… the little girl/submissive.

Helga has been conditioned by her environment (nurture) with fear. She has seen the little girl/submissive being abandoned, used, abused and all in all… not loved. The little girl however… is still just that… a little girl by nature. She wants to come out to play… trusting in all she meets… showing little fear of her surroundings… reaching out to love and be loved… unconditionally.

Helga… is her guardian. Helga is the one that men/Doms do battle with. Helga is the one that could get the Pope to reconsider His faith! When one is hearing Helga spout off… (as in trying to figure out how a conversation about finances can get turned around to arguing about garbage bags)… what many times He is hearing is the verbalization of the internal battle between Helga and the little girl. It is a very frustrating time for the woman… as she tries to sort out her intellect from her emotions.

Many times… men will give up trying to reconcile the conversation and leave. Helga then wins. Some men will try to battle Helga straight on. But as any good warrior will tell you… one should never battle the enemy on THEIR turf. Helga will win again. For you see Helga will convince herself… no matter how right Your points are… that you know not of what You speak. In BOTH instances… the little girl submissive is standing behind the leg of Helga… praying you don’t go away.

The trick is to learn to walk right through Helga… not by breaking her down per se… but by not Reacting too much to her insecurities/fears. Whatever we react to… automatically gives it more power. So the trick is to recognize Helga’s fears… and walk calmly through them… to then reach out for the hand of the little girl/submissive who yearns to come out to play.

You then… become the Guardian.

And Helga… can sit her little ass down… knowing the submissive is safe.

Helga seems to make herself known from time to time. She at times… will get back up. She, as in all life, wants to exit. She will challenge You from time to time. Test you unconsciously, to see if You still can be trusted with the Guardianship of little girl/submissive. If you don’t buckle or react too much to her… she will soon know that the little girl is safe… and she can rest again.

Slowly… you should notice… she makes fewer and fewer appearances.

Now I know… this all may sound oh so very simple in dealing with the complexities of humans. Life is certainly not black & white. But I hope I maybe put a name to some of it for you.

Good luck and keep walking through… Helga.

{by the way, i think my Helga is named Inga}

………………………………………………..

Thank heaven for lil girls?

… but what i don’t understand is how someone so unlovable can have good people love her?

~baby joy

Tuesday April 24, 2007 – 12:41pm

………………………………………………..

Small parts?

Tuesday May 8, 2007 – 02:18am

Infamous director Stanislavski is reported to have said, “There are no small parts, only small actors.” In this lifestyle, and by extension, the community we live in – be it online, real time, or some combination thereof – this is true as well.

It has been brought to my attention i am a member of the lifestyle community, and in some small way, considered a leader as well. i make no claims to greatness, or that i deserve recognition, but i have had to acknowledge not only my own role, but that of everyone, regardless of their part in the journey.

i sometimes feel a bit like a young movie starlet, who has flashed into fame: It isn’t necessary to have talent, but timing. Being “out front” as i have become, at least in the online realm to a small degree, has made me a focus and a target of attention, both positive and negative, of speculation. In some ways, it is irrelevant if this one can “act”, but simply that i am recognized for my “celebrity.”

Does that mean i am any more important, more talented, more necessary, more special in any way than any other member of the lifestyle? No, not at all. i hope you will take a moment to look at yourself as well. Where do you fit on the stage of life and lifestyle? What role do you play or wish to play?

Perhaps You have always been out front in a starring role – good for you! Are you a star in Your local theater? or earning an Academy Award? (But, we have all seen those in the lime light that prefer to be dramatic divas, unable to consider others as they flash in their own glory lol)

On the other hand, maybe you enjoy being a small bit player, that may or may not even be named in the program. Or, even behind the scenes completely as a technician. Those have a place as well, especially for those that enjoy the camaraderie of a local troupe, or merely a place to expand a hobby in lighting or costumes.

We must keep in mind, too, not to confuse notoriety with prowess. It may be easy to assume “fame” of sorts equals technical skill in the craft, but it only takes one look at Lindsay Lohan (imho, lol) to convince that they are not the same. The same with those in the Lifestyle community: Do not assume that because a “leader” is well known that His/Her skills also match (or vice versa).

As actors on this “stage”, we all can continue to learn, to grow, and to share. We can take classes, watch others, explore deep within ourselves. The growth should never stop, and remember, all parts are important, vital and lead to a beautiful show!

To my fellow “actors”, i say Bravo! … and the show must go on!

P.S. A final note, also from Stanislavski:

Remember this practical piece of advice: Never come into the theatre with mud on your feet. Leave your dust and dirt outside. Check your little worries, squabbles, petty difficulties with your outside clothing — all the things that ruin your life and draw your attention away from your art — at the door.

………………………………………………..

And now a look at casting…

Thursday May 10, 2007 – 01:00am

…(and miscasting – apologies to fans of Tom and Katie… if there are any… lol)

Continued from my last blog train of thought…

If all of us are involved in one form or fashion in this ‘production’ called the lifestyle, then there are bound to be ‘casting’ issues — or determining who fits best in the roles around us.

There are a number of parts to be filled, from leading roles to bit players. Obviously, as Director and co-star in our own show of life, we need to look carefully at how we cast these parts, particularly those that are most conspicuous.

What sorts of things should be considered for this role? There are a number of fantastic actors out there, but for whatever reason, they should not merit an extended focus. Certain things can be changed (hair color, manner of dress), some with vast amounts of extended work (skin appearance); others that will simply never change. If a dominant feels thoroughly dominant, they will not “turn” submissive just because you ask them too, and vice versa.

Some ‘candidates’ may be actively pursuing a role, and some you may hope audition. There are some that you may not have even considered, but once you examine them with a particular role in mind, it becomes hard to imagine anyone else playing that part (don’t know about you, but i can’t imagine Sally Field as Mrs. Robinson, or Dustin Hoffman playing Michael Corleone).

Innate skill should be considered. Does the person have a natural talent for the part they will be playing? What training have they had? In what areas? How has it improved them? It only does so much good to be ‘classically’ trained, if the part is for a slapstick parody.

Hmm… now who to cast for my leading man? Or, whose leading lady-slut will i be? For what parts am i being considered? Will i be pretty enough? smart enough? young or old enough? experienced enough? obedient enough? focused enough? …. will they?

On a side note, for trivia buffs like me, this is an interesting site for finding out the “coulda beens”, etc. Not Starring

………………………………………………..

Always a woman

Wednesday May 16, 2007 – 11:38am

i have heard it suggested before; perhaps it really is ‘my’ song?

She can kill with a smile She can wound with her eyes She can ruin your faith with her casual lies And she only reveals what she wants you to see She hides like a child But she’s always a woman to me

She can lead you to love She can take you or leave you She can ask for the truth But she’ll never believe And she’ll take what you give her, as long as it’s free Yeah, she steals like a thief But she’s always a woman to me

CHORUS Oh-she takes care of herself She can wait if she wants She’s ahead of her time Oh-and she never gives out And she never gives in She just changes her mind

And she’ll promise you more Than the Garden of Eden Then she’ll carelessly cut you And laugh while you’re bleedin’ But she’ll bring out the best And the worst you can be Blame it all on yourself Cause she’s always a woman to me

CHORUS

She is frequently kind And she’s suddenly cruel She can do as she pleases She’s nobody’s fool But she can’t be convicted She’s earned her degree And the most she will do Is throw shadows at you But she’s always a woman to me

(c) Billy Joel

………………………………………………..

Playgrounds and Playmates

Tuesday June 5, 2007 – 10:01pm

i used to have a playground… and a playmate… both are gone to me now it seems. i know it is in great part due to my choices, even when they were made from love.

i miss them both, and no one even knows i used to play there.

“This Used To Be My Playground”

[Chorus (first time without background vocals):] This used to be my playground (used to be) This used to be my childhood dream This used to be the place I ran to Whenever I was in need Of a friend Why did it have to end And why do they always say Don’t look back Keep your head held high Don’t ask them why Because life is short And before you know You’re feeling old And your heart is breaking Don’t hold on to the past Well that’s too much to ask

[Long and movie versions only:]

[chorus]

Live and learn Well the years they flew And we never knew We were foolish then We would never tire And that little fire Is still alive in me It will never go away Can’t say goodbye to yesterday (can’t say goodbye)

[chorus]

No regrets But I wish that you Were here with me Well then there’s hope yet I can see your face In our secret place You’re not just a memory Say goodbye to yesterday (the dream) Those are words I’ll never say (I’ll never say) This used to be my playground (used to be) This used to be our pride and joy This used to be the place we ran to That no one in the world could dare destroy

[Short and movie versions only:]

This used to be our playground (used to be) This used to be our childhood dream This used to be the place we ran to I wish you were standing here with me

………………………………………………..

Seeking the slave girl within

Recently i had the exciting opportunity to attend an amazing local function: Naughty Nights – Sultan’s Harem. i wasn’t even sure initially if i wanted to go, since my preferred escort was unavailable. And even though i knew several that would be there, some with specific parts to play, i had a hard time getting motivated. No play on the calendar for me… No feet at which to sit… remembered pout

Of course, once i started trying to put together a costume, the fun of the “scavenger hunt” took over and i got more excited about going. i had planned to turn over my good friend for her evening’s duties, and then go about being cordial, friendly, but not necessarily enthusiastic.

All of that effort was wasted, however, once i got to the club that evening when i was approached by the Mistress of Ceremonies, the Sultana herself, and asked if i could do her the favor of filling in for a slave girl for the production, as one had fallen through. “Uh, sure, what would that entail,” i started to ask.

She lifted two very thin, very sheer, very small pieces of gauze and held them before me. i looked at them, then looked down at my not so very small physique and pondered for a moment. Did i dare? Would it be considered an honor or a flagrant disobedience? i wondered to myself for a brief second, swallowed hard, smiled nervously and took them from her hands.

Shortly before the night’s festivities were to begin, i shimmied my way into the skimpy material. Thankfully, i had packed panties, because we were allowed to wear them… but nothing else but our “rags.” After a while, as the people started to file in, and the heat started to build, i began to appreciate the light weight nature of my garb – what little there was to it 🙂

When it was almost time for us slave girls to make our grand, dramatic entrance, we huddled together, holding hands, giggling, smiling at the pleasure we’d been granted. We were to look and sound scared, even though we were promised hair pulling and floggings – so no giggling and looks of delight we were ordered!

Once the door swung open, and we started with our screams, i let the moment take me where it would. We were thrust into a makeshift rope cage, huddling together for comfort (and to stifle our own giddiness). One by one, we were pulled up for “examination” and delivery of “blows” by the “Sultan’s brother.” Needless to say, i struggled and tussled, guaranteeing a good hair pull along the way, but the hollers of pain from the flogging were all faked. sigh

It felt amazing, nearly primal, as i bared my teeth, shaking my head and rarely-loose hair from side to side, growling at my captors. When the performance concluded, and the overall play was due to commence, the four of us girls smiled and grinned, our glow from the performance our primary attire by that point.

As the night progressed, i agreed to be part of the Earth Vibration Ceremony. i ended up being one of only 6 dancers to slog my way through a half hour of jumping, moving, thumping, undulating, writhing and pounding. Early into it, i was sure i wouldn’t make it to the end, but with the encouragement of the Sultana (and my stubborn pride making it impossible to want to walk away), i managed to shake my bells and body parts until the last drum beat thudded in time with our pounding hearts.

After the evening’s vibrant festivities, as reality wafted in on its gray cloud, i looked back in amazement. It almost felt like Cinderella, thinking back to the ball, with only the one glass slipper to remind her of a magical evening.

Who was that girl that rhythmically danced so freely? From where did the wide smiles and lack of inhibition and self consciousness come? Is she still inside me? Will she ever return? Is she really me?

(c) July 07

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What does she want?

Tuesday August 7, 2007 – 02:32am

So when the girl asks, is she wanting a no or a yes? Even when it sounds like something she wants… and maybe she does want it… does she want the “no” even more?

Is it love, a gift of boundaries, if she is told no, or is it just being selfish? Or is it love, or simply spoiling to the point of rotten, to be given everything she wants? Maybe she wants, needs to feel worthy of being given limits, told no.

What did the girl want to hear? no? yes? Perhaps only that she was worthy of His concern…

It is not always easy to be a girl…

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Mere words

Wednesday August 22, 2007 – 01:32pm

For anyone that believes words have no power, that they are “merely” words, let me offer the following:

*I love you.
I do.
I’m pregnant.
It’s a boy.
Mommy.
I’m sorry.
It’s inoperable.
Nothing we can do.
Good girl.
I’m scared.
Please.
Yours.
Goodbye. *

And the hardest of these “mere” words…? The silence that comes after.

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To calm the savage beast…

Monday August 27, 2007 – 09:05pm

What started out as a personal experiment to see if i could endure (as i am claustrophobic), or even fit in a metal animal crate, became instead a potent place for visualization and recapturing a bit of my emotional center.

A lovely Friday, filled with experimentation, learning and pleasure…

Followed by some intense messages from an interested and interesting Domme on Saturday…

Then, off to the club on Saturday night….

…alone…

ok, not technically true. Sir did give me permission to go with and to top my very good friend. And, i wanted to… tried to… but never could get my heart nor head into it. Sorry honey 🙁

For me at least, sometimes the range of thoughts and feelings can get a bit overwhelming. This weekend stretched me emotionally in ways that i hadn’t imagined. Mentally, i thought i had things sorted out. i was happy that my friends were happy. i was glad to have a chance to see and make new friends.

but instead… i was hollow… empty…

i was a pet in a cage, but without the collar… nothing tangible to remind me of my slave home…

Two hours i was in there, in my shiny silver embrace. First was the amazing flow of chemicals through me: throwing me into an intense sub space, hitting me, rolling my eyes back on a cloud of endorphins… Memories came to me, one in particular, over and over… Thoughts, on the other hand, faded to pathetic wispy webs… believe it or not, it soothed me being inside.

Then came the dark doldrums… the ache in my gut, the deep loneliness… the hurt at what i had seen… and the ache of what i was not feeling…

Eventually, the cage embraced me tighter, let me let some of the emotions out… And the people left… and i had to leave too…

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W

Monday September 17, 2007 – 04:56pm

As i was trying to put myself to sleep recently (i either can’t sleep or can’t wake up sometimes, it seems), i started thinking of all the words that start with W. It’s actually quite a wonderful letter, and i enjoyed realizing how many words went with it. Here are some of my favorites that came to mind… (in alphabetical order, so you won’t know how wicked my thoughts were – whew!)

wanton
warm
we
welcome
welts
what
whatchamacallit
when
where
whips
whispers
who
whoa!
why
why not?
wild
wisdom
wishes
witchcraft
wizard
woman
wonder
wonderful
wonky
worthy

What are some of yours that i’ve forgotten? Or favorites of those i’ve remembered?

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Diamond in the rough?

Monday September 24, 2007 – 08:01pm

i think i just realized something… something that apparently i have been hearing from a number of sources, but haven’t until now been able to internalize, much less begin to believe:

Did you know that Someone taking the time and interest to improve you, to refine you, is a sign that they care enough to invest in you, not just the opposite? Even if this interest is expressed by showing displeasure, it is not automatically a sign of impending doom and dismissal.

And, now, the light bulb has gone off:

i am worthy of being corrected, of being molded, of being taught to be pleasing. There is enough in me that has been seen to be valuable, that i am being shaped like a gem, knocking off the irregular edges, and polishing me to a fine shine. i can be made to gleam, with each cut and chisel by the expert Jeweler.

i am freed !

All this wasted fear, stress and anxiety, based on my internal surety that corrections were the path to rejection… now i know (and will hopefully remember) that i am “enough”… recognized to be of enough value to be worth the effort…

Thank You friends for helping me hear the message… Thank You Sir for reassuring me the leash will tighten…

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Do you have an inclination for BDSM?

Friday October 19, 2007 – 01:56am

You scored as a Experimental

Experimentation is a great place to be. Open-mindedness when it comes to sexuality can open doors and allow you to discover things that you didn’t think you would find engaging. Having such a curious attitude can help you learn more about your own sexual nature as well as the nature of others.

Experimental 86% Submission 79% Bondage 71% Masochism 68% Switch 50% Degradation 39% Sadism 32% Exhibitionism and Voyeurism 25% Vanilla Sex 21% Domination 14%

My thoughts regarding the results: As much as i have been teased about being dominant, it was my bottom score. hmmm… interesting… Of course, my switch score was exactly 50% – now something is fishy about that switchy answer chuckles

From Quizfarm

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A Wild Ride

Wednesday November 21, 2007 – 01:42am

(some random musings… letting my passions, fantasies, memories take hold)

All these …
images…
and senses… and feelings are rushing through me…

i love His car…

When i step into the car, and His scent comes wafting out… i swallow deeply… inhaling it…
So that by the time i sit beside Him, i’m thoroughly in space…
and unable to speak or nod…
but only squeak out … Yes Sir, good evening.

And, yes… i love love love that feeling
when we’re hitting the upper numbers of the speedometer…
racing to our destination…
anticipating the play to come…
especially when the top is down and the stars are out…

mmm… and the way we touch casually in there…
and how He pins my arm under His as He shifts…
or trails His fingers under my skirt…
am i wearing panties?
how wet i am…

The very tight air in the car, is being shared…
So very close…
so very tight…

And thinking of the rattan cane spotted behind the seat…
That He hasn’t used yet…
but has ensured i’ve seen.
And of the implements in the trunk…
That massage, sting, startle my skin
bringing me to life as the flesh raises.

And the times when we’ve gone to the mountains…
and i’ve fed him chocolate covered walnuts
as i feel His mouth take them from my trembling fingers
Having Him encourage me to eat one too…
And knowing the flavor of my mouth matches His…

Stepping out, my legs shaking…
kneeling by the trunk, as He pulls out His collar…
lowering my head, and begging to be allowed to wear it again…
my hand resting on His belly as He cuffs me…
The clink of the three rings…
Matching the sounds of the wrist restraints

Holding on to the back of His car as He cinches my corset
Feeling Him plucking the ribbons one by one…
Strumming them securely into place…
Him asking if it is too tight, can you breathe girl?

And i cannot…
but it has nothing to do with the corset.
Yes Sir i answer
There is no other answer after all…
None other that makes any sense when i’m with Him.

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Taking Stock

Monday November 26, 2007 – 09:12pm

One of the thing about being put into stocks is that you can only look one direction – the position you are placed, typically forward. It is a furnishing that does not leave you room to squirm around, looking side to side or to look backwards, longingly over your shoulder. One way… His way…

And so it was a few weeks ago…

Sir reviewed the main room, then He led this girl to a corner of the dungeon. There is a lovely rainbow shaped piece of equipment there. This one has been fortunate enough to dig her fingers into the black padding on it before, and it has a handful of other memories that come to mind on approach.

He stands for a moment, looking eager, excited with His latest plan. “girl, I would like to put you in the stocks.” My eyes widen, bulging a touch with fear. He knows i am claustrophobic, and the stockade presents a unique trap for this wild animal. i have told Him no limits, and i intend to maintain that, but i feel the hesitance wash through me with a dark sense of dread, as my eyes lose their sight to a crimson blindfold.

Feeling myself step backward slightly, fearful, my chest aches with the flush of fear. i attempt to reason, to tease my way from the impending impound. “But, Sir,” i stammer, “i have never seen them used. Perhaps they are intended for display only?” He chuckles, knowing my attempts are feeble. “Turn around girl,” He says finally, directing my fumbling fingers to the edges of the leather half-moon.

This girl’s eyes close beneath the silk of the covering, masking the fluttering of the rapid thoughts. As the blows strike my cool skin, turning it warm from His impact, my will to obey and my fearful spirit combat. Will He actually ask me to be locked inside the wooden jaws of the stockade? Will i be able to do it? Will i bolt in fear? Would i tell Him “no”? Does He already know the answer?

At last, the slapping sounds go silent as does my internal screams of fear. “Sir,” i whisper. “Yes girl?,” He asks, searching my face. “Sir, would You please put me in the stocks?” By the end of the question, the words become more confident, begging for it, as if it had been my desire initially. His sexy smile spreads across His face, hearing the hunger i now feel for it. “Please,” i whimper, my voice just above above an exhale.

He deftly prepares the apparatus, and i stand patiently. We discover that He needs to remove His collar from my neck in order for me to place its pale sinews within its wooden maw. i momentarily feel defeated, deflated, my limited confidence preparing to bolt. He raises my face, lifting my chin with His skillful finger, and i look Him nearly in the eye… and i remember… It is not the physical trappings and accoutrement that makes the girl belong.

She does not obey because she wears a collar; she wears a collar because she is willing to obey.

Once within, the wood clamps on this girl, swallowing her. Yet she is calm. He pets her cheek, reminding her she need not fear, He will not allow her to be harmed. And she knows it to be true…

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What Fell from the Falls

Thursday November 29, 2007 – 03:12pm

So here i am…
taking these words out of my head…
and from the tears on the pillow…

What is it i need? want?
What do i need to be able to do to make things better?

i need to be able to ask for what i need, when i do find them.
i need to ask… ask the questions… be ready for the answers…
i don’t even know how to ask for permission.

So many times i’ve caught myself telling Sir something…
explaining, clarifying…
but not quite getting to the point where i can ask…

Why is that?
Do i think i don’t have a right to the things i want and need?
Do i think that i will be told no?
That i’m stupid for asking these things?
That i’m a craven psycho, full of cravings and delusions and desires…

How do i say…
i need you to tell me no
i need you to think of me…
i need you to not think of me, and think i’m crazy
i need to know i’m not forgotten
i need to keep a connection to this place…
i feel i get let go… i need to know i was here…

that someone else will know i existed
that i made a difference in some small way,
caused a bit of a ripple
coz if i don’t make a difference, i simply don’t matter
and if i don’t matter…
then why be here?

it’s been hard enough some days to even want to stay here
to keep connected to the world… the people in it…
and now… i’m trying really hard to stay…
to have an address
a home as such
a reason
and i want to be a reason for you to have a moment too

please.. please don’t forget me…
please need me
because i need you too

………………………………………………..

Elegy for a Love Lost … and Found…

Saturday December 1, 2007 – 12:35am

Once upon a time there was a girl. She was young, not much older than my daughter. She was a nerdling, just beginning to see the world expanding before her. She was old enough that she had been broken by those around her, but not so old that her heart had been captured. Not until that one spring day… the one day, while milling about on an ancient tool, an electronic bulletin board that she stumbled upon a voice among the modem tones.

Word after word, line after line, posted to one another as they got to know each other. Rapid fire descriptions of likes and dislikes, hopes and dreams spattered the monotone screen, the clunky characters being absorbed like tasty morsels of a sweet dessert. In their relative anonymous world, peppered only with the clatter of their keyboards, they typed of their secrets, building images of each other before a glance was exchanged.

We should meet, he suggested, striking fear in her heart. What about at the water park? She quivered, dreading, sure that once he saw her, he would turn, leave, and never another word would be shared with her pen pal. She tried to find descriptions that let him know that she was more round, than the pencil shape as he illustrated himself. He would see her in a bathing suit, especially among all the beautiful girls in bikinis, with perfect skin and flat tummies. Closing her eyes tight, she tried to block out the sense of dread turning her soft belly ill with great waves of nausea.

But meet they did. Instead of turning away because of her flawed shape, they nearly missed each other. After all, his swim trunks were orange, not red, no matter how he described them. They matched his bright hair, fiery in the summer light. Both of them were nearly luminous with their pale flesh, tinged with pink pockets in their flushed cheeks. And love was cast. Sure and certain, confirmed by the first kiss, surrounded by wild screeches of splashing kids and hot hot sunshine, leaving gleams of sweat tears dripping down their faces.

The girl was entranced, not even hearing his stuttered speech. The boy, nearly man, recognized her blind devotion and for once, realized he too was lovable.

And so it was… fast forward through special moments and many years…

… a beautiful poem, speaking of windows and souls, and happy hearts…

… the prom her junior year, with her tightly permed hair and the dress her mom made for her (in a color that ultimately became the color of her Maid of Honor’s dress)…

… walking in the dark of the local parks, one by the river, the other lush with greenery. Kissing, caressing, devouring each other.

His hands moved over her trembling goose bumps, leaving her gasping, whimpering, hungry for more. She wanted to give her first flesh and blood to her first love, but she felt unworthy. Long before, when she was a barely a school ager, it had been taken, over her objections, both silent and spoken. She managed to protect her brother, but lost a part of her soul in the process. How could a man that was so connected to God, for now he had grown into one, find a whore like her worthy? She had wanted to save it, but the withdraw had already been made.

More years passed and they continued to come together, to part, to always seem to find a way back to each other. Even until the last time…

The last time was nearly 16 years ago. He happened to call the day she returned for a few days from her year work contract in Maryland. The girl, now woman, answered her parent’s phone to hear the man’s voice summoning her. Let’s see each other, he urged. She had no way to refuse, as always bound and bidden by his voice. They got together, retracing the steps of the park paths. The stars lit their way just enough to enhance the gleam in their excited eyes. And love bloomed yet again in the spring…

She left, taking a plane back to what now felt like a punishment, time away, far away from his touch. They wrote every day, more than once a day. Real mail traversed the miles between them, the kind with words on paper, stamps and envelopes, still filled with magic and mysteries, as well as the daily and dreary. They began to talk of marriage again, this time adding themselves to a wedding story. Imagining silk and lace, rattling through guest lists, hope sprang from the spring blooms.

Until the silence…

the unbearable, empty silence…

The days stretched, and finally she heard from him. His voice was staccato with the stuttering that had become absent in their conversations. The girl he had been seeing now carried his child, growing within her, growing at the same time their plans had been blossoming. He didn’t know all of what he planned to do, but he knew he had to do something to help her. He returned the girls mother of pearl college ring, without a note or a word. And he was gone…

And that was it…

Until last year (see a few previous entries). And then until this year.

This year, he came back to the woman, who had become girl. He was now Dominant; she was now submissive. In 2006, she might not have been able to resist, but it is 2007.

He wrote to her again, like the old days on the BBS. Intense, rapid fire exchanges, making his intentions known. He wanted her back. She told him she wore a ring, and allowed a Master’s collar. And He disregarded it all. He laid claim to her mind, her heart, her soul. But she was a new girl, a joy girl. She couldn’t just give herself away; she was owned already. She needed the power exchange, not just for her essence to be taken.

She wanted to be able to believe in Him. She wanted to be able to give to Him. No more, her heart screamed back. With every return, he took pieces away, without leaving any of himself behind. No more… No more…

And even until this week, He shared His craving of her, His love for her, His desire to finally consummate their passion. But He didn’t ask who she was. He didn’t even want to know. And now, once again, He hasn’t even stayed around to find out…

Goodbye first love… Your latest claim has set me free…

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Submission…

From head to foot

Sunday December 2, 2007 – 10:27pm

i had a memory…

Once upon a lifetime ago, in the first house i served, i was sitting at the feet of the Master. He sat on His chair, His alpha sub on the couch nearby. We three had spent many hours together that day, and i was feeling blissful, in my first blushes of submission. i remember looking up at Him, then back down to His feet. i so very much wanted to express my gratitude for being allowed to serve Him, in some profoundly personal way – for me, it came to mind as a foot rub.

Now in the realm of “kneel bitch-suck me” doms of Collar Me, etc, this would have simply been a chance to have my head shoved between His legs. i am not dismissing sexual service as a way of showing your submission, but it was not where my mind was going. (i have connections to religions that involve foot washing as a special bonding and forgiveness ritual).

When i raised my eyes again slightly, i saw His girl looking down at me. Her look made me feel even more awkward than i already was, so unsure in the “right” ways to do things. After looking up at her, i couldn’t even find the words to say to Him, nor able to look up beyond His denim covered knees. My cheeks burned, my heart pounded, words burbling behind the dam of my tongue. i never did find a way to ask Him if i could massage His feet.

Last night, i was given the chance to rub Sir’s feet. Unlike before, i learned and felt confident in being able to ask if i could. i knew that He could say no, but He didn’t. That said, i did slip and “demand” His hand to extend the massage to His nimble digits. But, when i stumbled in that way, He didn’t punish me… He didn’t send me away… He didn’t react angrily. He pointed out what i had done, and immediately i saw that i could have done it a different way. With a deep breath, burning cheeks, and an apology coupled with a proper request, i was allowed to continue my service.

And i reveled in it all… giving the massage, getting the correction…

It is what i knew it could be, as He helps me be the best i can be.

Thank You Sir. -Your joy

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Thinking…

Monday December 3, 2007 – 11:36pm

Dear Sir,

What a day… A touch overwhelming in very quiet, simple ways.

It was another day without my sweet mod mari at my hand, to help with the group. But it was the first time i got to speak to her via phone — every bit as fun and enlightening and pleasurable as i expected her to be. Fortunately, it appears things on the message side at least are relatively quiet. Of course, i do have 56 pending members as of this moment, plus a un-subscription or two with whom i’d like to follow up. Plus, i need to send a reminder to all those that are pending to remind them to take the time to speak with me via messenger, as well as a personal note to those whose applications have expired. Every now and then i get tempted to just approve them all, but i just can’t seem to let that go, and allow just anyone to join, and with it, their potential negativity or inattention to the group. Then again, maybe i will need to…

Especially if i take advantage of the opportunity that came to me today. It is very flattering to be considered, but i’m sure that even if it is not required to be time consuming, i would find it hard not to want to dedicate energy and effort toward a good purpose. Definitely would like to speak to You regarding this, to help me think of what all i want to ask, to help me decide.

And, another of my mom’s sisters died today. Feels like the deaths are coming more often these days. i won’t be going “home” for the funeral, but it is still sad in a way. Mostly though, i feel sad for my mom who is seeing what is comfortable and familiar fade more every day. Though it is often that way for me too, when i visit; she has been doing so much remodeling, it is not the house i grew up in anyway. What is left when i return? Not much of anything.

Things i still need to write about when i have a lil more brain: cages, kindlings, hair cuts. More to come…

Respectfully submitted,
Your joy

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Hair she is

Tuesday December 4, 2007 – 11:12pm

Dear Sir, i was speaking to someone in conjunction to the group recently. She mentioned a requirement of her Dom to have her hair cut very short as part of her submission and joining His house. This reminded me of Another that this girl had speaking to previously. He spoke of fantasies of cutting my hair off, leaving me bald. i alternated being repelled and strongly attracted to the descriptions He put forth.

Actually, i like the idea of having such a visible sign of my submission, especially as i know i have been prideful of my hair in the past. i enjoy it being pulled, tugged, played with. But, on the other hand, especially since we don’t live together, to be able to see You by seeing myself – how profound that could be. Even as it is, i wear an intimate piece of jewelry. And, i think i mentioned how a certain Domme would have placed her own ‘rings’ and tags there. Thinking of the number of ways i could be connected, simply and purely, is a pleasant distraction to my day to say the least.

Is there another way i can show, and more importantly see, my submission to You? Your claim on me? Something added to my gold chain i wear? (i don’t care about what others may see or notice or not, but i personally like signs and symbols). Just some thoughts…

Humbly, Your joy

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Busy Signals

Wednesday December 5, 2007 – 11:06pm

Dear Sir,

Sometimes the world seems so quiet, even with all the clutter of the noise around me. It is noisy, but more like a white noise, none of which is special enough to lure me out. Even with everyone shouting to me, i need to hear my name, to hear “girl” whispered… i need to be summoned. i really miss not hearing from You, especially on the days after we get together. The drop hurts, leaves me empty.

And i know i’m greedy. i know You are pulled in so many directions. i wish You could pull me more often in Your direction. Please, just a few words… i need You to remind me…ground me…reclaim me. Please remind me who i am, who i have become, who i am becoming.

Respectfully, Your (weary, lonely) girl

………………………………………………..

An apology, compassion, encouragement

Monday December 10, 2007 – 02:28pm

Dear Sir,

First, i ask You to please forgive Your girl for not writing (at least where You can see it). i have started several comments, blogs, notes and letters over the past few days, but nothing has managed to sound coherent enough to share in a meaningful way. i know You can relate to the time demands family and work can put, though it is hardly an excuse for my not writing to You anyway. i humbly apologize…

On a side note, i’ve had some good conversations lately, particularly with a person who had known You before. i was once jealous of her, with of course no reason to be. When i spoke to her in person recently though, she mentioned a memory that was similar to one of mine, and it sent a cold lump to the bottom of my stomach. i know that she is not connected to You (and, in fact, is in her own relationship, for which i am very happy).

But what impressed me most was her compassion, especially as a woman. She recognized my discomfort at discussing past connections. Rather than judge right or wrong, or to tell me to get over it, she saw how awkward it was for me. She didn’t ask me to compare experiences, or detail the sensations she received compared to mine. She didn’t make me feel inadequate because i longed for some of the same things, or make me feel like i needed to compete. In fact, she apologized for my discomfort. Did she need to? No. Did it make me feel better just knowing she understood? Absolutely. Do i think more of her than i did before? Oh yes, very much.

Thanks for our conversation regarding my recent opportunity. i hope that it will still be available to me, but whatever will be, will. Since Your nod of approval and encouragement, i’ve been especially focusing my energies toward the Mod Squad. If i am to be more active in another organization, i need to ensure that Baby is taken care of. i’ve recruited at least two mods (waiting on word from another), and will be training them shortly. i work with such fantastic people, and it seems every day i learn more from them about life and the lifestyle. They encourage me in amazing ways, and we build each other up. imho, it is a glimpse of some of the best the lifestyle can be.

i hope to see or hear from You soon, and perhaps i will be able to provide a lightening to Your day (or night). i always enjoy every moment in Your service.

Gratefully, Your joy

………………………………………………..

Mmm… tell me girl…

Thursday December 13, 2007 – 03:47pm

“Sir, last night i had a dream, a dream about You…”

“Mmm. Tell Me girl…”

With the nod of those words, i was able to let loose with the words that matched the visions that had come to in my slumber enhanced fantasies:

i was allowed to serve You, to bathe You, to soothe You. The room, lit by candles reflected the flickers of heat emerging on my cheeks as i moved my hands over Your knotted, taut flesh. The steam from the bath smudged our images in the fogged mirror, blurring the lines of our bodies. Standing close, our breathing slowed as our hearts raced, both synchronizing. Moving my nails, i drew light designs into Your dampness, sending messages of my devotion throughout Your nerve endings and shivering shocks through my own.

You extended Your finger, looping the silver, middle ring of Your collar firmly. Without words, i knew to follow. The softened lines of the room blurred even more, as my hair curtained across my eyes, my chin tucked to my pulsing chest. Leading me to the edge of the bed, i kneel, waiting as You climb into the soft cocoon of sheets. Time takes on its own odd shape, as i become one with the silence of the space, eventually so quiet that Your breath gains the momentum of the storm brewing within my own being.

With a look of bliss crossing Your countenance, i hear Your words commanding me, “Please Me.”


How grateful i am for even a few words from You, for a chance to hear Your desires, Your pleasures, and to allow me to serve You. Even in just the reading of the word “smiles”, sends a wide grin across my own face, lasting for hours, thinking of Your happiness.

………………………………………………..

Pleasure, Pain and Chain

Friday December 14, 2007 – 07:48pm

Per Your request:

i had a wider window of time to arrive this time, with no threats of punishment for being late. Though, thankfully, traffic was accommodating and even with driving back roads i was able to find where i needed to go easily enough.

Upon arrival, i was a touch surprised to see Him awake, wearing a nice collared shirt, sitting at His computer. His greeting as i stepped inside the unlocked door was casual, reflecting our friendship, but not quite the immediate jolt into head space i expected. i kissed Him gently on the cheek, and stood over His chair, holding Him in a gentle embrace as He finished up His simple tasks. He asked if i had any new restrictions or requirements to follow. No Sir, the same, i replied. With a wicked smile, He declared i was wearing too many clothes and so it began.

i scurried up the stairs in front of Him, knowing my ass was in sure jeopardy. Ordered onto the bed, i put my head toward the metal foot board. Turns out that was a bad choice, since it did not permit me a pillow to press my face into as He delivered His first two strikes, pushing out unintentional grunts from my open mouth. He quickly and sternly reminded me of the requirement of my silence and stillness, with no pouts.

His brief warm up series began again with renewed vigor. Remembering the lessons we have heard, i forced myself into concentrating on the rhythm of my breath than the sensation of the blows. After about a dozen, my body began to transform the sensations, realizing they were temporary and would be leading soon to being awash in the familiar warmth of the chemical endorphin flow. And flow it did, the smooth sensation coating my insides, as my face spread into a glassy smile as He rubbed my ass with abrasive scratchy material.

As quickly as it began, we pulled into a mental and physical parking space. We caught up with each other as people, talking about our relationships, past, present and pending. He teased and tormented me with thoughts of a person i hope to introduce to Him. Knowing my competitive and prideful ways, He promised to deliver an even higher level of intensity if she were to watch us play. It is an area i know that needs to be tempered out of me, though i do believe i would not put my physical safety ahead of my stubborn pride, regardless of how much i despise the idea of calling a safe word.

Whispering, He talked of chain binds. He debated with Himself, muttering how using them could be quite boring for Him, watching me unable to move, taking the fun of whether or not i could hold still on my own. On the other hand, a chained subbie can be a delight, available for Your pleasures. As He leaned toward not throwing on the binds, i had to fight hard to keep a pout from crossing my greedy face.

Eventually, though, He decided to reward my restraint with His own. Running a tight ring with the thick links across my chest, feeling the metal pinch my nipple, brought a unique pleasure. i cooed in a whimper. He proceeded to run a length between my legs, the chill digging into the heat of my female flesh. As He pulled and bound my hands behind my back, the steel began to actually feel hot, as if burning a brand into me. Tucking my legs backward, He finished putting me into a face down, hog tied position.

He proceeded to flick my skin over and over with a sharp sting of leather. Eventually, i was flipped over, receiving slaps on, around and under my fleshy breasts from His over-sized hands. He ruefully complained about His lack of accuracy, evidenced by His occasional missing the target of my tender nipples. Swallowing hard, i absorbed the bites of the leather, fighting the impulse of crying out or to beg Him for mercy.

Another break, this time marked by watching a TV series i didn’t know (but in which, i am now interested) and discussions of politics, literature and economics. We lounged, luxuriating in our comfort for the hour of the program. When it was done, it was time for refills of His vices. He returned to the bedroom, to point out that my phone was “beeping.” To encourage me to make it stop, and stop soon He declared a swift six for each beep after that point. i tried to work efficiently at turning off the bells and whistles, but managed to accumulate 48 from my trembling fingers. He delivered 12, when i failed somehow in my count or providing Him the information in a way He preferred — and the count started again. The 48 was delivered in various ways, including slappers and other implements popping off my tender skin.

Removing the chains, we climbed back into the bed, snuggling, reclaiming our connection to the mundane world, filled with boring chores and less fun company. Slipping back into my clothes, we shared embraces, our bodies both greedy to feel another person’s flesh before the sensation became scarce again.

As i drove away, my thoughts immediately returned fully to You, and my gratitude for Your understanding of this one’s needs and desires, and Your willingness to let them be met in Your absence. Any confusion i may have felt before washed away, as i fully felt confident in my place with You by Your granting of this time, rather than the reverse that originally plagued my thinking.

Thank You Sir, more than ever Yours, Your joy

………………………………………………..

Bound Dreams

Swans dancing on dreams
of silver rings of light
Tinted sepia by the longing
The dreams of what might…

Sunday December 16, 2007 – 10:17am

………………………………………………..

While You Were Sleeping

While You were sleeping
What dreams came unbidden?
What secrets and fantasies
Moved out from being hidden?

Did You rest upon my bosom
Your weary head tended,
And allow my trailing touch
To Your heart be mended?

Did You dream miracles,
Myth, magic and of might?
Dark enveloping skies
Caressing velvet night?

Were Your eyes blinded,
Lit by searing sunshine?
Caressed by its warmth
In a place beyond Time?

Feel my rose lips now
Kissing Your furrowed brow
Pressing into You
Dreams of moments like now.

(c) joy, 2007

Sunday December 16, 2007 – 10:25pm

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In my shoes

Monday December 17, 2007 – 11:42am

Sometimes it is very easy for people make assumptions, based on the parts of you they know. i am not worthy of pity nor envy. Neither one is appropriate or complete.

Some look at my life convinced that i lead an enchanted existence. After all, they think to themselves, she has everything a girl could want: A husband that loves her, a beautiful family, basics of living covered without major concern, a Sir that allows her to wear His collar, a successful group, 100s of friends, blessed with love that comes easily.

What don’t you see? A husband that doesn’t meet all of my needs, or even my wants, who feels compelled to judge and condemn and complain. 100s of friends, but many of them acquaintances, not familiar with very much of me at all. An amazing Yahoo group, but one that requires more work than is obvious, even without the assumptions of “stealing members”, “censorship” and “favoritism.” With “easy” love comes easy heartache; my heart is still mending from the strains of being stretched in unmanageable ways.

What else don’t you see? A girl whose love runs deep for those around her, including those that may be “only” acquaintances, who sheds tears of happiness and of joy when sharing your news. A naive girl, who is still caught off guard, and often wounded, when people don’t do the right thing. A girl who was honored to be considered for a position with a group in which she believes; yet she feels crushed, despite that group’s noble, charitable purpose, she is unable to help her friends as much as they need.

Is there more to see? Oh yes, very much. She laughs at her children’s pathetic attempts at Knock Knock jokes. (Knock knock. Who’s there? Tree. Tree who? The tree is big and the cat got stuck in it … huh? lol) She has been known to help bring people back to life, restoring their belief in love, even as she grows her own. She is brave, willing to tackle demons, especially for those she loves. And for those she loves, she never forgets. (you’ve read this far… so you know her love…)

But, please take a moment to walk in my shoes before you presume… and please let me take my shoes off now and then; i’m tired of wearing them today and just want to go barefoot for a while.

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Quiet Nights

Wednesday December 19, 2007 – 12:17am

i had another dream recently. It is more a vision, one that recurs throughout the day and night, but i feel it most as the sun goes down. i envision being able to sit by You, beneath You, to share, to listen, to laugh, to find out more about You, to find out about You, to find out about me when i am with You. i imagine being able to hear more of Your revelations of what makes You the Man You are, so i can find more ways to please You.

In the chaos of our current days (and nights), there have been so few words shared, other than the barest few. When we do have a few moments to speak, i’m caught breathless, barely able to make an intelligent exchange. i struggle, how do i find my way, my definition, without Your mark upon me? Thank You for allowing me to have some of my needs met without Your personal attendance. Though, please remember, i still crave the opportunity to serve You, and look forward to a time to do so.

Gratefully Yours, Your joy

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Markings

Thursday December 20, 2007 – 09:33pm

Sometimes…
i wish i could leave my mark behind on those i have touched in some way. i don’t want them to feel harm, to ache from what i leave behind. i simply don’t want to fade away from memory, forgotten, like our warm first nest of the womb. i wish i could leave “mine” tangibly touched somehow, with something to be looked at, to run their fingers on and over, with each bump and nub reminding them of the love and the lessons we lived.

i know i have been “pierced” and “scarred” by those to whom i have been connected. These are not always negative things. They are simply part of what forms who we are now.

For instance, i have scars from the c-sections from my two kids; the thick tissue across my midsection reminds me clearly of what i have become. i wear a piercing from one that impacted me, believed in me (and still does, thank you). i have a scratch scar across the top of my foot from the service to my first house, light, faded from the fierce pink it was when i first was marked (from a dog, but not in the way it sounds lol).

Thank you to those that have “pierced” my life.

i am scared
and i am scarred.
i am marked
and i am marred…
With each line
and skin tracing
is a mem’ry
not for erasing.
Look close now
Find the holes i carved
Letting in,
Feeding souls starved.

(c) joy, 2007

Nov 252007
 

I was sent this on another list and it brought questions to my mind as follows:

Do slaves HAVE rights? Have they given up the “right” to have rights when they agreed to be a slave. Are the things posted “slaves rights” or just common sense rules of living?

  1. i have the right to set limits, and expect them to be respected.
  2. i have the right to trust, providing I have earned it.
  3. i have the right to expect You to believe I am an intelligent, caring and loyal person.
  4. i have the right to ask for Your attention, without having to misbehave to get it.
  5. i have the right to expect You to administer Your punishment on me with care and caution.
  6. i have the right to question your motives, should You deny my requests, as long as I do so with the proper respect.
  7. i have the right to speak up if I feel O/our relationship is not giving me what I need.
  8. i have the right to tell You what I need in a respectful manner.
  9. i have the right to expect You to understand my reasons for doing so, and the right to expect You to listen with an open mind and heart.
  10. i have the right to walk away from our relationship if W/we cannot come to a common ground on these issues.
  11. i have the right to expect tenderness, love and understanding after a scene is completed, should it be what I desire.
  12. i have the right to ask You for that tenderness if i’ve had a bad day, or if i just feel the need for closeness, i understand that there will be times when You and i will disagree about this ~ when You will want a scene and i will not.
  13. i have the right to voice my opinion, and expect You to listen to and consider my reasonings, i expect You to have final word, but i expect You to wholeheartedly consider my feelings, whatever they may happen to be.
  14. i have the right to expect You to understand that deep trust often breeds love, and i expect You not to repel me if i tell You that i love You. For my Master i will love You, should O/our relationship move ahead, should O/our trust continue to grow.
  15. i have the right to expect You to tell me, at any point, if You do not feel You can return those feelings, so that i may decide what i want and need, For it is Your pleasure that adds to my own, and makes it real, And mine, that adds to Yours!

The following message and discussion came up on our discussion and education group. message

It’s got me to thinking… what do YOU think??

Respectfully submitted,
His joy

Oct 192007
 

You scored as a Experimental

Experimentation is a great place to be. Open-mindedness when it comes to sexuality can open doors and allow you to discover things that you didn’t think you would find engaging. Having such a curious attitude can help you learn more about your own sexual nature as well as the nature of others.

Experimental 86%
Submission 79%
Bondage 71%
Masochism 68%
Switch 50%
Degradation 39%
Sadism 32%
Exhibitionism and Voyeurism 25%
Vanilla Sex 21%
Domination 14%

My thoughts regarding the results:
As much as i have been teased about being dominant, it was my bottom score. hmmm… interesting… Of course, my switch score was exactly 50% – now something is fishy about that switchy answer chuckles

From Quizfarm

Dec 312006
 

The first… of many girl hopes

From: Sunday May 28, 2006 – 11:46pm

And, so my journaled journey begin…

girl has so many thoughts, but instead of them swirling around like a tornado, they have settled into many piles of things to sift through instead.

i am looking forward, trying not to look back other than to appreciate what useful information i received, and going from there… i am no longer

girl declared tomorrow a ‘me’ day from her husband, begging off with some muttered excuse about a party for a friend going away, or … mumble.. mumble… so i will be at Sir’s tomorrow morning at 10. And, i will finally get to meet erin – how exciting!

girl is working hard not to feel like the questions Sir presents from my writing come from criticism, complaints or specific concern. Many of them, at least at this point, are merely clarifications. Now, if girl could just let her stomach unclench as He asks them a little easier…

ah… patience… if only practicing it was as easy as spelling it…

When reviewing Sir’s website (www.HouseOfGowain.com – good job erin!), girl felt the knot come over her stomach again. Clearly, Sir intends to have a poly household – but, the information started to sound like words from UM, and brought icky flashbacks of the last days with Him. i want to be special, and i don’t want to be just one more of the (many, many) girls… This is not to say i can’t share, especially with an Alpha – but to be one of at least three, theoretically equal, but not the same women, sounded wretched. UM was right – it was not right for me – just as He wasn’t…

And, other versions of poly i’ve heard in the community discourage me nearly as much: to have a ‘triad’, yet still be able to be with whoever at any time. To me, that just sounds like cake and eating it too… hard to see the commitment there. Why bother having the triad in the first place then… Something i’ll hafta see better to wrap my head around, but just wearies me to think of it.

girl really is taking it one step at a time, and hopes Sir will see the frenzies subsiding, and the ears listening, and eyes opening.

thank you Sir, for another day in your consideration, joy


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Goodbye cailin

Monday June 19, 2006 – 12:24am

It is with great regret that we announce that cailin, aka:joyspreader4u, has been released from My service and Our house. We hope that all will refrain from gossip or speculation, and respect our privacy in this matter. We wish joy well in her continued journey in this lifestyle, and ask that the community embrace her and welcome her as she begins anew. With regards, Master Gowain and erin{G}


That said, i am glad for every moment, every lesson i have learned from Master Gowain and Ms. erin. i have learned a great deal, and have only the highest regard for them. Thank You Sir, thank You Ms.


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Forgiveness

Monday June 19, 2006 – 12:35am

this would have been an entry from cailin, but the lessons are still there for myself

No matter how many times and how many ways you beg for forgiveness from others, there must come a time to be able to forgive yourself. It ultimately becomes less important whether or not ‘they’ forgive you, but can you finally forgive yourself. And, if you can, can you learn from those mistakes? Can you move forward?

i have felt my felt my feet gummed to the pavement, heart in my throat, unable to form words, unable to turn or to move. i was not behaving from a purposely bratty place; i was not begging – then or now – for physical repercussions to my poor behavior; i was everything but what i wanted and needed to be.

i was very glad to have been given the opportunity to find and share the words i needed and wanted to say to those that i have wronged. But, until now, after searching and even some ‘over thinking’, i have been unable to write anything more. Apparently, i had one more note to write – this one to myself.

So, here goes, internal dilemma or not, it is part of who i am… and i can’t help but put the thoughts and feelings ‘somewhere’ now that they have started to ooze out of me…

Dear inner cailin,

i’m sorry i let you down when you were trying to so hard to make a good impression. i know you wanted everyone to see that you are not the ‘wicked other woman’ or just something in the way. i know you wanted to be a good hostess, a good present, a thoughtful addition to the Household. Instead, i took over, made you behave wickedly, and ignore common sense, protocol and even basic courtesy.

And, i let you down. You trusted me to take care of you, to let you shine, to help you remember your place. i got distracted. i got overwhelmed. i started thinking of everyone but who i needed you to remember. i goaded you, dared you and taunted you, and made you lose your ‘place,’ and very nearly made you lose the most important spot of all – the space in Sir’s Household.

i regret it. i’ve learned, and i can see how much you have learned too. you have excellent teachers. Listen to them more and to me less. Love them for they love you. Do not be afraid; they are not what you need to fear. Savor the moment – it is truly the only one like it. Remember the lessons you have gotten, and treasure the teachers.

Humbly and apologetically, the other cailin

oh my god… that feels good to have released… Yes, self, it is okay. i forgive you. Now, let’s move on for tomorrow is a new day.


………………………………………………..

On the Road

Tuesday June 20, 2006 – 11:43am

i’ll be leaving soon for a trip, a vacation of sorts. My kids will get to be spoiled by grandma, and i will get to have hugs from my mom. That’s all i know that is on the schedule, and it is nearly enough to keep me busy the 3 weeks i will be gone.

She will know my heart has been battered and bruised, banged up from life. She knows i will have helped people, and that i will have hurt people too. She will listen to me cry for no explainable reason – and laugh for the same. She will watch, wanting to protect me and kiss my boo boos, and

i don’t know how this vacation will turn out. i have much to ponder, but i am often told i think too much, or my thinking is faulty. If i play with my own wishes in mind, then i appear callous, frivolous, merely a creature of carnal pleasure – not who i am or want to be known as. It would be an easy answer to just focus on my kids, and their fun, but they only occupy my body; when i bake in the hot sun, that still leaves enough room for mental doodling and musing.

And i will have the first chance to really visit my dad’s grave. To see where my mom will sometime be, their coffins touching. To see where two steps down and three over, is where my grandfather (abuser of me, abuser of many-may he rot in hell) and my grandmother (beloved, sweet angel of memory). And, maybe the tears will flow in the stillness of the stone walls.

And, maybe i’ll see my first love, face to face, for the first time in fifteen years. Or maybe i won’t. And, maybe i’ll be immune to who he has been to me, and maybe i won’t. Either way, i’ll drive by the river, see the places we walked, whether i want to or not.

It was also intended to be a chance to evaluate my marriage: am i happier with my husband or without him? Now that he has discovered more about me, is it enough? Can he become what i need him to be? Can i find what i am looking for with him? Is the comfortable kind of love he enjoys enough to sustain us to the next level?

Ahhh… and the longer i sit here and type… the more i realize why my packing and loading isn’t done. i don’t want to be here; i don’t want to be there… or maybe i want both… or…


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“Home” Again

Friday June 23, 2006 – 09:30am

Well, i made it to Tulsa, safe and sound. We made it in town in the early evening. A few showers along the way, but nice, uneventful. That said, i’m glad i have a few weeks to get myself ready for another 16 hours or so in the car with 2 young’uns.

We went out to eat at a renamed restaurant for which i have many, many memories. The food was tolerable, not much more, but enjoyed the sopapillas and the sweetness of the evening in general. Then went to my brother’s, and gave greetings. Pretty hard though on my lack of sleep; for all i know he confessed his love for purple lizard sex, but i was totally out of it.

Today, it’s off to WalMart to stock up on groceries and goodies for my hungry ones. Mom ‘let’ me shop today, so i could get what the kids want, but i guess it is no great price for being able to stay and visit.

The kids are already binging on the large collection of videos my brother has. And, i am already amazed at how quiet things can be.

Maybe i can sneak in a nap in here… how about now…


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A Little Housekeeping

Tuesday June 27, 2006 – 12:26am

i have often heard of the importance of trust, in Lifestyle relationships especially. “Sure, absolutely,” i would tell myself. It makes perfect sense – we put our lives in other’s hands every time we step out of our safe boundaries and play the way we do.

What i didn’t see or realize is how much we put our lives in other’s hands, totally outside of the realm of play — or we should.

i recently had the chance to put my life in Someone’s hands – and i blew it. It is not that He (or She for that matter) was untrustworthy – it is i that didn’t trust Him. He gave me no reason not to trust Him (as they are an honorable Household), other than the fact that i am human, i am cowardly, and i am a creature prone to fears from past mistakes.

That fear, that inability to trust when i needed to cost me dearly.

i was stubborn, prideful, and convinced that i could make things better. What i didn’t see though, was that what felt like limitations on me and what i thought were my needs, were placed on me based on experience, wisdom, perspective and even love. The misplaced confidence in my own assessment of the situation, my ability to impact it positively, and indeed, even my own willfulness, sent shock waves in many directions.

Where were my eyes? my ears? my words? my submission? forgetting those things were given a place – and that is not where they were – led to my own tragic loss. it was not a failing of the House; i failed me and i failed them.

and, i am sorry.

Thank You Sir. Thank You Ms. i am hoping that my trust in others and myself will be strong enough in my next relationship to allow it to grow.


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Back seat drivers

Wednesday July 5, 2006 – 06:14pm

Now, i’m sure that i am the only person in the universe that hates back seat drivers. However, that being said, and at risk of annoying those of you in the pro-BSD movement, hush!

And, hubby this means You. And, yes it has been two weeks or more since you’ve ridden in the car with me. But, talking to Mom last night brought up the good, the bad, the ugly – and i have to say – listening to someone harp on your driving, by the time You hit the first major street isn’t the best way to start any time in the car. Which, most of the time when we are together as a family, is going to be at least 30 minutes each way to visit relatives that aren’t mine, and that don’t necessarily like me right now. Ah, the pleasant thoughts.

For the record, sure isn’t the way to start “date nights.” What a laugh! Drive almost an hour to your mom’s. Meanwhile, i have gone too fast, too slow, too close, too far, and generally driven you crazy, but, at least paid more attention than you can at any given time especially with our two little distractors in the back seats, but oh, yeah, you can’t see so you can’t drive, and besides, you drive all the time to work to pay for the car. Don’t forget – i always seem to go the way you wouldn’t… and apparently that’s a problem, except, uh, it’s not since we still manage to get there.

So, we pull into your mom’s. Get to see her latest wounds or hear about her latest doctor horror stories. (Generally, the more graphic go closer to when we hope to eat out first). We can’t drink anything there because she doesn’t have ice, and everything from her fridge has that weird smell, and since she buys the single servings on everything, i’m not gonna take her 1 of anything.

Moral of this rant: Sometimes, honey, you just have to let it go. Believe in me. i’ve made it safely so far, and i plan to keep doing so. I’ve taken defensive driving, i look around, and no, that doesn’t mean that i’m reading just because my eyes dart in your direction. Maybe it’s time i decided where the car goes for a while, or at least gets less complaints as we go along. And, maybe it’s time for you to decide if you don’t like it, get out. Or maybe, i just need to decide, i don’t want you in my car anymore.

And, yes, you’re right… this isn’t just about driving…


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What’s that sound?

Sunday July 9, 2006 – 11:01am

Recently, i had a period where i could not find my ‘writing’ voice. i had been struck totally dumb, unable to put more than a few words together coherently. i struggled, waffled and wavered, all in an effort to find it, or to find out what could bring it back. And, although the struggle to find it was mocked and derided by some, and not understood or regarded as signs of a larger concern by others, i knew that my muteness had to be held by some internal gag – it just needed to be released. Once i found the end of that ribbon – and tugged – the words flowed again.

But until this morning, there were other sounds that have been missing for a long time too; these however, i did not even notice as much. i had lost my ‘singing’ voice. Now, let me make clear, i make no claims to fantastic quality. i merely sing as a release, a mental doodling. In fact, sometimes, it may be the clearest indication of what i am feeling, even before i am aware of it occasionally. (i can’t pretend not to have noticed my husband’s sad, nervous reaction to “Release Me,” by Wilson Phillips).

i didn’t even quite realize that voice was gone… until suddenly, as i was doing the dishes, it came out again. My voice was strong, vibrant though a bit rusty from the morning and lack of attention. i had been trilling about for nearly ten minutes before i even realized that the voice was back. And suddenly, one of the gaps at which i had been pondering and staring, figuring out what belonged there, had its filler. It felt so natural to sing again. To hear the sounds bouncing inside and outside my mouth, echoing on the walls of my mom’s kitchen.

And, because i wondered (for those of you prone to critical, insert over-analyzed here) about the awesomeness of the return of this gift of expression to me, i found its source. The answer is in the answer … the fact that i finally found my current course. How far it will take me, how successful, i do not know. But i do know that at least a direction has been chosen. That freedom, that comfort and ease let my songs issue forth again.

Then, there was an even more amazing sound. One that may have been even longer gone …

… i caught myself laughing, chuckling so hard i was bent over.

Now, what that’s all about, i can’t imagine. laughs again, snorting this time


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Where all this thinking has taken me…

Saturday July 8, 2006 – 05:09pm

At long last, i think i know what i must do. It is time to concentrate on the claim that was first made, and no, not that made by my first love who has steadfastly ignored me (thankfully, for i am feeling awfully weak – and not just from the lingering virus – these days).

This decision was made before disturbing phone calls to my home (to my husband) and to my cell phone. i just don’t think i knew i had decided it yet.

So, what will it mean? i don’t know. Maybe we’ll reconnect and recommit, and he’ll be able to step up to being the Dom i want and the Man i need. Maybe we can learn things together.

And, yes, i am pleasantly ignoring the fact that almost any ‘education’ in any areas in our lives has come from my explorations, coursework, experience, etc. Perhaps, it will be like our family’s connection to Judaism – only better, because with it, i got to be the one ‘that wanted it’ and therefore, could take daughter to Sunday School every week by 8:30 a.m. After all, why would i sign her / us up for something if i wasn’t going to follow through.

Or maybe we’ll be one of those couples that just finds acceptance in letting the other do what they need to do, perhaps with some general guidelines. Not sure that one is all that realistic in the long term at least. i like being devoted to someone, and yes, i know there are many married (to other) slaves out there, but for me, hard on the head space.

Or, lastly, we may just have to face that we can’t reconnect. We’ve lost faith in each other. We no longer trust the other can meet our needs, and realize this is not a healthy place to be. So, whether it is done with counseling, together or separate, we need to find a peace so we can be happy, healthy co-parents. And that may be true regardless of how we end up.

So, faces i’ve gotten to know, and those that i looked forward to: i may need to put You aside for the moment. i’ve got to see what my marriage may still hold. i’ve got to see what i can do to still hold at least part of my children. This is hard, since it all feels so ‘home’ to me.

But, please understand and be patient. If You loved me before, i’ll need it more. Even, or especially, when i may not be able to hear it directly from You. And, if for some reason, i can’t take You into that reality where i have to live, please know that You are a special memory to me. On the other hand, please don’t forget me either.

it hurts soooo much… divided, split, torn asunder… unable to give, unable to take looking at how i got here with wonder…


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Sweet surrender?

Monday August 28, 2006 – 10:44pm

The problem with truth is that for every person that sees it, a different truth can be seen based on our own filters, perceptions, predispositions and understandings. Even the exact same phrase can be interpreted entirely differently for both the speaker and the listener, depending on where we hear the emphasis. When someone says, “I could throw you in front of the bus, but i choose not to,” some will hear the “throw you in front of the bus” and others could hear the “choose not to.” Is it a threat or an affirming statement? How do we know for sure what is meant?

Even things others may see quite clearly, we may not know as true ourselves, until we gain more awareness of ourselves. For instance, if you have been playing in the sun all day, and someone notices your red cheeks and arms, and asks you if you are sunburnt, and you say no. Perhaps you really don’t realize that you are. Does that mean that the answer you gave was untrue. Yes, objectively. Was it untrue to you when you said it? No.

There are some that have been convinced of a concerted effort on my part to speak maliciously and falsely of them. They begun to see me in a particular light, and gathered ‘evidence’ of that hypothesis until, in their mind, it is now a definite truth. Between us now appears a Berlin Wall: one that i wish could be torn down so that individuals on both sides can be reunited and get to know each other again.

Although it is not yet the beginning of the Jewish New Year, thoughts of atonement and starting fresh have rolled in my mind. All of us (except the perfect, of course lol), can look back at things that have been done in the past they would do differently or perhaps, not at all. i am no exception to that. So, i’m using this as a chance to come clean and clear, and to set things straight, and to put forth the truth as i’ve seen it.

Here are some truths: 1. Yes, i served in a House, with a strong Master that i respected greatly. i enjoyed learning from Him, and had hopes i would be able to serve Him indefinitely. At no time during my service, did i either look forward or back with desire toward any other Master.

  1. Yes, during the time i served i was confused at times regarding specific details of that service, and the specific structure of the House. Was it unclear or was i just needing more guidance as a first time, real life submissive? i don’t know, but i did have questions.
  2. Yes, i made some mistakes of judgment during my service that i deeply regret. Some of these have been addressed in other entries, and i won’t belabor them here. Some of these were said to have been forgiven, and others were relevant to my release.
  3. Yes, i have spoken in confidence of my mixed, and sometimes very strong, feelings regarding my release and my former House. Yet, i never spoke these ‘frustrations’ in a public forum, posting or venue, other than in instant messages, email and phone, to two individuals.

And, some others: 1. No, i have never publicly spoken ill of my Former or His House. i have often spoken of the respect i feel for Him, the regret i felt that no longer serving His House, and the best wishes i hold for Them. i have encouraged others to seek Him for advice and guidance as they continue their own journey.

  1. No, i certainly have never deliberately said untruthful things about my Former situation. And, mo, i hold no malice toward anyone in the community, and certainly not my Former House.
  2. No, i have never deliberately manipulated or tried to place myself between any two people in a relationship, regardless of what the parameters of that relationship might be. i have and have not had any desire to take away someone’s fiance, boyfriend, husband or anything else.

i heard it said that it can be hard to be in submissive mindset when you are being defensive. Circumstances in my life have changed, but that maxim still holds true. Much more time has passed than even the short amount of time i served. Does the fight, the bitterness need to continue? Not from my side, it hasn’t and it won’t. i surrender… i’m done…


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Announcements and Updates

Sunday December 17, 2006 – 04:07pm

The last i wrote it was near the Jewish New Year. And, now, closing in on the calendar’s new year, i feel compelled to write once again. So much has happened i’ve been unable to focus well enough to decide what to write. Where to begin? What’s still important? So, instead of continuing to think about it, i decided it was about time to just write about it, and let it come out as it will.

Most exciting, perhaps, is that we’ve had a baby. Well, perhaps not a baby in the real life, change the diaper sense, but a time consuming yet utterly life changing experience. Her name is GDsN — Global Ds Newcomers. On October 7th, a new Yahoo group was born. DDW brought her to life with His desire to give newcomers a comfortable forum for exploring and learning. He wanted to give everyone an equal voice. Admittedly, when He first created the group, i sulked and had no interest in it. The frustrations i felt with the “community” translated into insecurities about myself, my choice of the Lifestyle, etc.

Then, i had a realization: it wasn’t about me, it was about DDW and the others. He wanted it, how could i not support it with all of my efforts? And, deep down, even though i am new, i have wanted to be able to reach out to other newcomers and share my knowledge and experiences, and hopefully prevent a few mistakes from occurring, and to be a compassionate ear when they do. And, now, thanks to Him, i had my chance.

So i threw myself into it full force. Instead of just joining, i actively began to recruit. initially, i reached out to Georgians (our home state) that i thought could benefit or be a benefit to this group. That felt limiting though, especially when i saw the tentacles of the local community hovering. So, i began to reach out to neighboring states… then gradually just to any and all that seemed ‘right’.

Seemingly overnight, we became a truly global group. As of today, we have 640 members (and counting!), hundreds of links – for local groups, fetish information, shopping, learning websites, etc. We’ve been averaging dozens of active, productive messages a day, and the content is phenomenal. Sometimes, i just sit back and glow with delight, watching the messages of support and encouragement.

And, now, finally i have a voice again – i am able to reach out like i always wanted. Do i have all the answers? Of course not. But, i do have a warm heart and an active curiosity. And both now have a place and a purpose. They are recognized and encouraged.

What about DDW? Besides being the positive force that conceived of “Baby”, He is also my One (my Sir, my Master, my… fill in your own words here). He has and does motivate, cherish, protect and delight me. He has been a fellow explorer, going from hardly being able to imagine a person, especially me, receiving any intense sensation with anything other than pain, to directly being able to tell that i was receiving pleasure from the experiences. i have been able to try things i didn’t think i would be able to, most of which have left me craving more. He has grown from wanting to tolerate things just because of His love for me, to actively thinking of ideas to continue our explorations.

So gone is the girl, existing on fear, stress and adrenaline. Instead, emerging is a woman, aware of her needs, and finding her way and her place – most happily, at the feet (literally and figuratively) of the One i love. Re-emerging is the fierce female – loyal to her friends, dedicated to her family. The truth has been able to emerge: those that said that i was a petty manipulator, have shown their true colors, and carry that mantle now themselves. Those that spoke of the importance of keeping secrets, often failed, and revealed distorted truths. And those whose loyalty was most in question, have proven themselves bound to truth and honor. My true friends still stand beside me, or we are finding their way to each other.

It is an amazing ride…

May 282006
 

And, so my journaled journey begin…

girl has so many thoughts, but instead of them swirling around like a tornado, they have settled into many piles of things to sift through instead.

i am looking forward, trying not to look back other than to appreciate what useful information i received, and going from there… i am no longer

girl declared tomorrow a ‘me’ day from her husband, begging off with some muttered excuse about a party for a friend going away, or … mumble.. mumble… so i will be at Sir’s tomorrow morning at 10. And, i will finally get to meet erin – how exciting!

girl is working hard not to feel like the questions Sir presents from my writing come from criticism, complaints or specific concern. Many of them, at least at this point, are merely clarifications. Now, if girl could just let her stomach unclench as He asks them a little easier…

ah… patience… if only practicing it was as easy as spelling it…

When reviewing Sir’s website (www.HouseOfGowain.com – good job erin!), girl felt the knot come over her stomach again. Clearly, Sir intends to have a poly household – but, the information started to sound like words from UM, and brought icky flashbacks of the last days with Him. i want to be special, and i don’t want to be just one more of the (many, many) girls… This is not to say i can’t share, especially with an Alpha – but to be one of at least three, theoretically equal, but not the same women, sounded wretched. UM was right – it was not right for me – just as He wasn’t…

And, other versions of poly i’ve heard in the community discourage me nearly as much: to have a ‘triad’, yet still be able to be with whoever at any time. To me, that just sounds like cake and eating it too… hard to see the commitment there. Why bother having the triad in the first place then… Something i’ll hafta see better to wrap my head around, but just wearies me to think of it.

girl really is taking it one step at a time, and hopes Sir will see the frenzies subsiding, and the ears listening, and eyes opening.

thank you Sir,

for another day in your consideration,

joy

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