I want..

I am sure that somewhere in my past I have written about how I got here.
It is slightly blurred but the general story is clear enough to follow.

I have always been drawn to the power of a man.  Not boys. There is a difference between a Man and a boy.  Neither have anything to do with the actual age of the male of our species.  It is all in the way they carry themselves, how they react, how they approach life.  I dated men in power positions.  Military, police officers, firemen, bikers....  TESTASTRON junkies all of them.  They were not man enough.  Sad, I know.  I needed more.

One came close, very close to perfect.   He could have been the one, if he had been Dom enough to take control.  I was in my early 30's, he was almost 30.   He was the first and only man to ever demand that I lie still and allow him to pet me for hours.  I would flinch, arch, and shutter as his mouth, finger tips and nails left trails of heaven across my skin.  He would smile and growl at the result of his sweet torture.  He was an amazing lover.  He was just not enough, there was something missing. 

I had a boyfriend in my early 20's that came to visit.  He was sitting on the couch watching a movie with my parents.  I didn't want to freak my dad out by sitting next to him, but I so wanted to be closer: feel his heat, smell his scent, hear his breathing, so I sat on the floor and wrapped my arms around his legs.  I fell asleep with his fingers in my hair and my fingers tangled in the cuff of his jeans.  The most comfortable place I have every been.

It was not until later in life, after multiple relationship fails, that I discovered BDSM.   It is not what people think.  It is not the Hollywood image that most project.   I have only met a hand full off Dom's that were "beautiful" in that perfect model way.  What most people will never understand is that the beauty is found within a person.  It shines when the right Dom finds the right sub.  The beauty lies in the trust and love between the two.

The last relationship I was in was a mistake.  A big one.  It was all one sided.  I went for 3 years with out an orgasm.  Sex was an obligation.  Life was an obligation.  We would go to the store, he would grab what he wanted and never asking me if I wanted/needed anything.  I bought the groceries daily, cooked daily.  Did the laundry daily.  All with the expectation of a think you or reward.  I did it because I  wanted to please him.  It was not until the end that I realized the imbalance of give and take.  It was a harsh lesson to learn.  I learned that he was missing what the other two had in spades.  They loved me, both of them still do.  He had the potential to be a Dom but ended up a domineering jerk.  He was missing the love.

I look back and know that there has always been a part of me that was different.  I preferred to dress up as a hooker while other little girls were dressing up as princesses.  In my early teens,  I liked to watch porn and read Playboy and Hustler.  I don't think that my environment had all that much to do with my unconventional proclivities either.  

I still like porn, and erotica.  I still prefer to sit at my boyfriends feet.  I still love to have my skin stroked until I am exhausted with pleasure.  I still like a man to take charge during sex. I still like to dress up like a whore on occasion, but most of all....

I still want a man. 

An Amazing Weekend!

My souvenir from Bondage Camp 2014!

A few months ago I happened to check my Facebook junk mail.  I was surprised to find a much unexpected message from an unexpected source.   A few weeks later, I am heading to Ren Fest to spend the weekend with her, her new man, and a boatload of other kinky people at Bondage Camp. 

 I got there about 10:00pm and ended up having one of the best times I have ever had with like minded people.  Although I was not able to spend as much time there as I would have liked, I still met some wonderful people and one fantastic soul sister.

The night started off with hugs, homemade brew, toasted marshmallows, friendly chat, and a little voyeurism.   The morning was just as wonderful, breakfast then Ren Fest.   After a few shows and a little shopping we headed back to camp to get ready for the evening.   We ate one of the most amazing meals I have ever had, watched some very talented fire play then went off to a secluded area for some real fire play.  For those of you that have never seen it… Nudity + fire floggers = awesome and if you ever get a chance, it is a must see. The company made it even more memorable.   We made it back to camp and then it was my turn. 

 After 4 years of being neglected,   I was blessed with the opportunity to do a scene with XofDallas.  I put on a pair of long socks, and cheekies, grabbed my fluffy blanket and headed for the designated area.  Although it was freezing, literally, I stepped up to the cross.  I don’t remember much.  I remember the cold on my legs, stomach, breasts, and back.  I remember the comforting, familiar rhythm of the floggers, and the disappointment when it was over.  The walk to the fire pit to compose and snap out of the adrenalin high is a blur.  I vaguely remember heading back to the tent and snuggling up for a long nights sleep.  I do know that I have not slept that deep since October 30, 2010 (the last time I really had a decent scene). 

 

Sadly, the morning came too soon, weekend ended too soon.  I tried to head home with enough time to get some work done before Monday.   That was not in the cards I guess.  About the time I remembered the dishes and began to feel guilty, I noticed my check engine light had come back on, and one of my tire sensors announced an impending flat.  My weekend was amazing and even the flat tire, misfiring 3rd cylinder, and 3 hr delay on the highway will never put a tarnish on the weekend I spent camping with Slitty, X, and the rest of the kinky Ren Folk.

Thank you for reaching out to me.  Thank you for everything.  Although I know that I started healing a long time ago, you helped bring closer to what had once been one of the most dismal times of my life.

I am looking forward to our next adventure! 

My time in the closet

I remember him shoving me into that closet.  It was small as closets go, bi-fold doors with only 2 panels, not 4.  After all it was a kids closet, and didn't need to be too large.   It was not dark, thanks to the horizontal slats that made up the doors, light streamed through.  Me being shoved into that closet was a regular occurrence, sometimes he would blackmail me or promise to help clean my room.  Mostly it was blackmail though.  It smelled like sour socks and baseball gloves. Full of the normal boy clutter: sports equipment, toys, shoes, and clothes.   I would have to kick things around to stand on the floor to keep from tripping. 

 I remember the day I figured out that placing my hands flat on the wall with my arms extended made the whole process easier and faster.  It allowed for more resistance and helped me keep my balance.   Soon after I figured out that pushing like I was going to take a shit made it less painful.   I remember hating him for what he was doing.  I avoided that room.  Thinking that if I didn't go into the room, than he couldn't get me into the closet.   But like a child, I would soon put those thoughts aside, and trust that all was safe as children do, I was only 8 after all.  Only to end up in the closet again, with my pants, or shorts around my ankles being sodomized by my brother.  

I don't remember when or how I came to realize that I had the power to stop him. I guess I was about 12 years old,  I just remember one day I decided I didn't want to ever go into that closet again.  I built up my courage, came up with a story that was just enough information and told my mom the biggest lie I have ever told.  I told her after church one morning that "Brother, tried to touch me where a brother shouldn't."  I don't remember all the details but I know I told her about the closet and him pulling my shorts off.  I made it sound like he had attempted to hurt me, not that it had been going on for years.   I am thankful that she believed me.   She cried, she told my dad, and next thing I knew, I was being dropped off at my aunts house for the day while my parents and brother went to see Father Ron.  I know he had to spend time with Father Ron every Sunday for almost a year.  I do not know what happened in the meeting or between my brother and Father Ron every Sunday, I never asked, I never even brought the subject up.  I just remember feeling guilty for tattling on him and avoided the subject at all cost.   I had gotten him in big time trouble and that is something sisters just don't do.   That was the end of my time in the closet, that was actually the end of a lot of things.

I look back and think how strange that being molested didn't keep me from hanging out and playing with him.  However, my guilt at getting him in trouble did.   Even as a child I was a little submissive, and felt I had let him down.  My guilt caused me to spend more time alone in my room and less time with my best friend.  

We both eventually grew out of the awkwardness, but never the friendship.  He has been one of my rocks and on more occasions than I can count or remember, filled the stereotypical role of big brother hero. 

I know that many women in the lifestyle have been through similar situations.  Most of the time, we keep it to ourselves, or bury the memory deep inside.  It is not something freely discussed, and often women make the mistake of not telling their Dom/Sir/Master about their past.   It is not something to be ashamed of.  It happened, and you can not change the past, only learn from it.  Accept it and come to terms with it. Or take the easy road and let it eat you alive.

I am lucky in many ways,  I have been able to forgive, and often forget, the details of my time in that little closet. 

A few pictures

Slap on the ass...

I was recognized this year.  When I was confronted here on FL, politely, I freaked a little.  I asked this co-worker how he recognized me.  He said it took a bit of work.  He saw me at work, asked someone what my name was, looked me up on Facebook, compared pictures, and the rest is history.  He said my eyes gave me away.  I have since taken most of the matching pictures off of both these sites.    However, about 4 months ago, an acquaintance from my former biker community (to make this simple we will call him Dick) said something to me about being on one of those "sites" wink wink, he had recognized my eyes, and put 2 and 2 together as well.  We both laughed it off.  On July 26th, while at the dance hall (I am a dance-olic, just can not get enough of a good double-2, advanced-2, western swing, waltz, or polka) I was standing at the bar ordering my poison of choice and someone comes up behind me and smacks me on the ass.  Surprise surprise it was Dick!  I am sure my face registered my shock (not pain, I had my good jeans on.)  He stood there with this shit eating grin on his face, very proud of his achievement and bravado.  I pulled my lipstick out of my pocket, just to make sure it was not broken.  Then next thing I knew my open, empty hand lands full speed across the side of his face!  I vaguely remember hearing one of my male friends say "ohhh shit"!  My eyes were trained on Dick challenging him to react.  He didn't fail me, his reaction was priceless.  First shock, then anger, traveled across his face.  He recovered quickly and backed up the three yards to the table and the waiting arms of his girl slightly pissed.   I turned around to grab my beer, which was now setting on the bar and realized that my male "friends" were no longer in residence, but had all scattered in the wind.  So much for cowboys and a code of honor...  They all know I can normally hold my own, but this was Dick I just slapped and they were not confident that it was going to go over well.  Dick of all people:  biker, convict, trouble maker.... 

Dick has not been back to the bar since.

What I learned about gut instincts...

He had contacted me several times,  always respectful and patient.  I eventually caved.  I had been feeling guilty for canceling the previous date and figured that I was in for a spanking if our acquaintance advanced.  We met for lunch; a simple, quick lunch at a low end family restaurant, nothing pretentious or demanding.  There was nice banter and some interesting conversation.  It through me off when, out of the blue, he asked me if I had issues with him penetrating me or cumming inside me.  The warning lights started going off, but I pushed them down and ignored them. After all we were just having lunch or so I thought.  I was willing to give him a chance.  He talked me into coming to his hotel room because I had earned a spanking for my "lack of communication."  Again major alarms and flashing lights.  I went anyway.   We went to a hotel, blue collar, clean, or at least visually clean , and immediately he had me lay down over his lap for that spanking.  No alarms or flashing lights with this, in fact I could have taken a lot more than he dished out, but that is not the point of this story.  After that, there was a little groping and some talking, then he took me to my car and I went to the office.  Later that evening, he contacted me and proceeded to text back and forth a little.  This is where the small alarms became a large screeching siren.

Lets back up just a little.  He made several mistakes that I could have overlooked:

1)  he tried to have a casual scene with out establishing perimeters.  I let this one go, because he stopped when I said "please stop" 

2) he never asked me for a safe word.  In fact he said that I didn't need one with him and that it would help establish trust.  WTF, that is how you establish trust, allowing a safe word.  Again, I waited it out, and let that one slide.

3) he asked me if I was okay with having sex with him....%^&*$#! Really, I don't know you! Why the hell would I have sex with you?  I am not a slut and I though I had made myself perfectly clear on that point.

4) I told him honestly, that if he pushed my boundaries, I would not stay in contact.  Yet he attempted to push boundaries that I would only permit from a Dom that owned me or one that had established a comfortable and committed relationship with me.  Again I waited it out and began making a mental list of the mistakes he was racking up.

5)  I was told that I would have to lie to my parents and come spend the weekend with him.  He suggested that I tell them that I was going to Houston for the weekend.  WTF...I am not collared by you, you do not ask someone that you have been on 2 (and not really 2) dates with to lie to their family.  Big loud alarms were going off at this point.  Now I am just saying what he wants to hear along with a lot of "okay"s.

6,7,8,9,10.....There were several more transgressions, but I think you get the point.

The final action that brought an end to our communication accrued later that night when he sent me a text saying that he wanted to see me before he left town.  That I needed to find time to have dinner with him, and it was not stated as a request.  He implied that I needed to manage to find the time, even after I told him that I was burred in paperwork and would be working late every night.  I am sorry, but you do not own me, we have seen each other face to face an average of 5.5 hours.  Where do you get off demanding that I jeopardize my career and neglect my responsibility to my job so that you can, a near stranger, have dinner with me.  I am submissive, but I am also an independent woman that is proud of the struggle and hardships I went through to make my dreams come true.  Why would a so-called-Dom want me to neglect my career?  I would never ask anyone to jeopardize their livelihood for me, especially someone that I had only know a few hours.  That was the straw that broke the sub's back.  I did not respond to his last text.  I put my phone aside and in the morning, I deleted all his texts.

I regretted my actions when I canceled our first date, but the realty is that I should have listened to my gut instincts in the first place.   I should have listened to the fist onset of alarms, bells, and whistles......  What did I learn out of this,  gut instincts only come in handy if you are willing to listen to them.

good night sweet girl

I fell asleep last night to the feel of your hands caressing my curves.  The warm moist heat of your breath on the back and neck.   Your lips nipping at my shoulder and ear.  The slight tickle of body hair against the back of my thighs and ass.  The strength of you arms holding me close. Your nails biting into the swells of my breasts.  Your fingers digging in to my supple flesh and teasing to perfection.  My body writhed, arched, and stretched, my feet caressed and slid across the cool sheets.  My hands clenched and pulled at the pillowcase.  Your voice demanded in my ear “cum for me sweet girl.”  I surrendered and melted in bliss.  You tucked me in close and whispered “good night sweet girl” with a gentile kiss on the back of my neck and all was calm, wonderful, and right in the world.

It was an amazing dream....thank you for giving me that.

Skinny Jeans

I put on a pair of skinny jeans today.  This is not something I do very often.  Not sure why I thought my fat butt would fit, but I did it any way.  I looked in the mirror and realized that I was not as fat as I thought I was.  Sure enough I went downstairs and with dread stood on the scale.  WOW...I am down to 142 lbs from a whopping 158.  Then I really got excited when I realized that I had been weighing myself with out any clothes on and here I was completely covered, shoes and all.    I didn't realize how much junk food I was eating while living with hollow.  That is the only thing I can think that I am doing different, other than going to dance class and going dancing once a week.  I have not been eating nearly as healthy but I am not sitting in front of the computer snacking all day either.  Life is looking up.  I have a good job, I have friends, and I have my family and now I have skinny jeans.  YEAH ME.

Off for the week...

Once again I find myself at loose ends with way too much work to do.  Houston is calling my name.  I missed LUEY, my Grandmother came for a visit this weekend, maybe I'll make it next year.  There will be a play party or two this coming weekend.  Question is "Am I motivated enough to get my work done and head that way on Thursday?"  Once upon a time I was brave enough to get in my car drive down town and walk into a room full of people I didn't know, introduce myself and flirt.  After the turmoil that hollow caused in the Houston community, that bravado has burned out.  I fear that I will not be welcomed.  I fear that  people will whisper and talk behind my back,  I fear that they will ask me to leave.  For a social person, not being welcomed is a big issue. 

This little town rolled up it's streets for Spring Brake and there is nothing going on around here.  The local dance hall didn't even book musicians for the next few weekends.  Like I said, off for the week and at loose ends.  Oh well, maybe I will get motivated just enough to head to Houston.  Take my Aunt to the HLSR, hit the dance floor, and make it to a meeting, munch, or even a play party.  We'll see.

Prospect of a wonderful time

We had been talking for a few days.  Just messages back and forth on FL.  Nothing too serious, but it had potential.  That afternoon, I went and had my roots colored, carefully picked out my makeup, and outfit.  It had been so long since I had been on any kind of date.  I was excited, normal I guess for a first date.  He was going to meet me at my playground, the dance hall.  That is where I am comfortable and that is where I have friends to look out for me.  That is where I am at my best.  He is a hedonist, something new for me.  He got there late in the evening, and we spent the rest of it talking,  on occasion I would go dance.  My little was all over the place.  I had so much energy that I had to burn if off.  He is not a big dancer, and I felt guilty leaving him at the table in the middle of this crowd with out anyone to talk to.  It was very rude and bad form on my part.  I knew that I needed a buffer between us or I would slip into super sub and get myself into trouble.  And having a moment to get away and dance would work just fine.  

We talked and laughed and even danced a dance.  At the end of the evening,  he walked me to my car.  This is where I feared I would loose my backbone.  And I did.  I told him that I would gladly give him a "first date" kiss, and allowed him to take a "3rd date" kiss instead.  I even agreed to let him give me 3 spanks, what was I thinking.  I even called him Sir.  What was I thinking....  That is just it,  i had dropped into sub mode once we got away from the crowd. We made plans to have dinner Sunday evening.

As of late, and having been under so much pressure and stress, my need to play and be submissive is overwhelmingly strong.  It would not take much for me to make a big mistake or not follow my gut instincts and judgement.  I chickened out, and canceled the date.  I couldn't trust myself not to allow him to go too far.   I don't regret canceling the date.  I do, however, regret missing out on the prospect of a wonderful time with someone that could very well be honest and true.

I hate what my past relationship has done to me.  I hate the fact that hollow managed to taint a part of me that was refreshing and simple.  I hate that hollow was able to ruin me, even though he did not damage my heart.  I hate that after 6 months,  I am still damaged and needing to be played, but do not have the confidence in myself to let it happen.  I currently hate being me.

Houston

Monday I headed South to so see my BFF.  This was my first trip to Houston after the breakup.  I don't think I have ever had such a heavy feeling of nostalgia, at least that is what I think I was feeling.  I wanted to drive through town to all my old haunts.  I longed for an EROS or H-NLA meeting, but Saturday and Sunday were already gone,  I thought about heading to the little bar downtown where they had the meetings just to have a beer, but no one I knew would have been there.  I thought about going to the Eagle, but again, no one would have been there.  I went shopping instead.  Bought a killer pair of leather boots and a fake fur coat.  Nothing like leather and furies to make a girl feel better.  I found my self doing a lot of reminiscing.  Thankfully, Houston holds mostly good memories so the time there was more bitter/sweet than painful.  I longed for what I once enjoyed, the friendship and camaraderie of the acquaintances I once had.  I am not sure that I would be warmly welcomed any more.  Thanks to hollow burning bridges and the poisonous things that other one said of me.  I mourned for the loss and suffered a tight chest coming and going through Houston.   It was hollow's choice to keep our mouths shut and not defend what other one was saying,  part of me wishes I had, another part of me resents my pride that supported his decree, and another part of me knows the decision was the right one.  But in the end, it was my social standing that was ruined.  Me being labeled an interloper and home wrecker........  Truth is, other one and I were both played.   

In my mind I can imagine the sly conversations in which he subtly brought up the idea of bringing in a new member to their Leather Family, or starting a Leather Family.  Patiently waiting for other one to ask for a girl.  And the silent thrill of  triumph that hummed through his veins when she asked him if they could start looking for a girl to join their family.  He confessed once that he "managed opportunities" for her and I to spend more time together.  He also mentioned after she left, for the 3rd time, that he had been planing on releasing her before he met me and he was not going to take her back again.  I have to wonder about the conversations I had missed out on and what had been said about me considering the not so pleasing things he has said about her.  He had mentioned looking for a new member to join our family not long before he asked me to move out.  I told him I was not ready and if we ever did, I wanted a boy.  I often wish that I could just ask her, but that is not an option.  She has moved on, is in a wonderful place, and I like that she is happy. 

He also played a game in which he basically told me that I was a slave, and that he wanted me to accept it.  Once I had decided his definition of  "slave" was the correct one, to come and "talk to him about it."  Almost an unvoiced threat that he would not consider a new contract otherwise.  I never did have that "talk" and look where it got me.  I know that not long before he let other one leave, and he did let her leave, she had publicly claimed the title slave,  I have to wonder if he had played the same kind of game with her.  Subtly calling or suggesting she take the title.  So many questions, so few answers.   Words left unsaid.  Words that may very well never be said.

The community here is too small to be safe.  I keep my distance and only have a few locals saved as friends on FL.  They really do not have parties or munches.  I worry about setting up "dates" and  getting hurt in a not fun way.  However, that might be my only choice.   Wish me luck.......

I am happy to be home, but miss my Houston life still, if not more today than I did last week.  Maybe next time I will manage to be in Houston on a Saturday and get to go to a play party or two.

New Years with Friends

I spent the New Year with my best friend in Houston.  I was so in the need to see her.  We cleaned, cooked, drank, shopped and watched about $400.00 of fireworks along with a side of cheep bubbling wine.  Some of her family came in,  I love everyone in her family, but I do have my favorites, and the favorites were the ones I got to see.  They asked about other one and hollow....mainly curious as to what happened.  Uncle Sparky has had a hard year, a few heart attacks and some issues with his diabetes and really liked hollow, and hollow liked him in return.  I let him have the bare bones, didn't want to ruin his vision of what, at one point, was a wonderful man.  I also showed off pictures of other one's fiance.  I did smile when I showed him how happy other one is.  I am happy for her, why shouldn't I smile in reaction to the beautiful images of her love and their new life.  I thought it would be hard bringing up the past, but it wasn't.    I have no animosity or pain to spend on a man that has no respect. compassion, or love for me.  

It was an exhausting and wonderful 3 days of fun with the people that I hold dear to my soul.  I packed my things up this morning, and with a heavy heart, kissed everyone good bye and headed north back home.

 I dread going back to work on Monday, it will be so hard after having been off 2 weeks.