Sunday, November 30, 2014

Oddly Awkward

I've mentioned previously that Lux and I had started accepting the accidental dynamic that fell into place between us.  It's only been a step at a time, and carefully at that, knowing that he is still off kilter from his last relationship, and all the shit I dealt with while with Thrax.  We've had no real problems thus far, making sure to take care of each other along the way, and maintaining a good balance.

In person, it's smooth.  Like a well oiled machine, it just works.  Lux is often the one to feel off at points, and with plenty of snuggles and reassurance, we're both back to a happy exchange.

When we're apart (which has been more often than not lately) we text through the day, and occasionally, the exchange becomes more apparent between us.  He refers to me as his slave (and that possessiveness honestly makes me just want to snuggle in with him and squee) and I call him master in response, because he does make me feel all safe and content.  I feel at peace handing myself over, rather than nervous, which is fantastic, but off subject.

So, writing it all out, it's what I feel at that moment, and it's all happy and crap.  Then after a moment or so, I read over it all and see that word, and it shakes me.

For so long, I called Thrax "master".  And in the beginning, he did what I needed, and was there, and helped me.  That quickly died though, and the feeling of the word changed to something that meant disappointment.  It showed emptiness, manipulation, and disregard for myself and my limits.  I read it now, and sometimes it makes me think of everything then.

And then I need to remind myself that I'm not saying it to him anymore.  I'm saying it to someone who wants to see me grow, and is there to help me, and never stops earning that respect and exchange.  It'll get to the point where I can shake that off, but I need to take the steps to get it there.

On a giggly side note, a couple moments with the beast!
Last time I went up to see Lux, the beast and I took a shower together on the day we were going to head up, so that I could scrub her something fierce (she doesn't get the scrubbing I give her when she spends a weekend with her father) and I could wash off all the sweat of a busy day before heading out.  I undress in the bedroom, and the beast stands up, points at my junk and looks in shock.
"Mama!  Get that thing out of your butt!"
Mind you, she's standing in front of me. And pointing at my hood ring.
"Babygirl, that's not my butt.  That's my girlparts."
"But there's a thing in it!  Get that thing out of your butt!"
"That's not my butt.  And that's supposed to stay there."
"...What?"
"Someone put it there.  It's supposed to stay there."
"Oh, Ok."
Yup.  That's all the information she needs about body modification.  And that is awesome.
Also, all day on Thanksgiving, we called to each other with turkey noises.  While getting stuff from the basement fridge, or even if we were on different floors of the house, I would make a turkey noise, and she would respond with her odd attempt.  It didn't stop being fun for the entire day.

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Giving Thanks

As it is Thanksgiving, I thought today should be spent doing the obligatory post of everything the I am thankful for.

Positivity: I have far more positive influence in my life than I think I ever have.  I have this mix of people who have been around forever, people who have only grown close in the last couple years, and people who are newer to my life that encourage me and show such affection and love.

Dance: I am grateful for the ability to dance, and the fantastic experience it brings.  Being able to teach and spread what is essentially a language of movements, as well as being able to shake my ass around while cleaning, or spending time on stage, it has helped me build more body confidence, and be healthy.

Beast: The little beast teaches me so much, and truly is a little ball of squishy love.  She's at the age now where we actually discuss philosophy, and it's done with a clean slate of someone who hasn't been influenced by random things they hear.  She gives me the chance to run around and be silly (you know, with an excuse...) and someone to snuggle when I'm feeling down, even if it means tackling her to the ground.

Art: I've discovered the ability I have to learn the arts, and enjoy working with many mediums.  I love expressing myself by creating something physical, and giving someone the random things I make when I think of them.  It's part of that constant stimulation I need, while being able to help others, or just bring a smile to their face.

Words: I am a language nerd, and love reading as much as I possibly can.  Whether it be the random thoughts of friends, the pile of books I have to read, a textbook, a medical study, or bits of research done on a myriad of topics, I love taking in the written word.  It gives the opportunity to learn so much, which is something I crave.

There is also a small handful of people that I can't imagine not having in my life at this point.  They are so fantastic to me, and help me in more ways than they could ever realize.  They deserve far more care and affection than I remember to give.  In the meantime I will give the care I can to them, and hope that I can keep them in my life for as long as possible.

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Ponderings

Lately I've been thinking over different ways I could be happy.  Things I enjoy, and how I feel most content.

I remember hanging out with Zero, when I was only about fourteen, and telling him that I don't really want someone to do everything for me, and I would much rather take care of someone else.

Well, you know, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

I enjoy doing for people, which I explained in very early in this blog.  I show affection and care through service, and enjoy doing all the little things for people, to take a bit of weight off their shoulders, and so that they know they don't need to do for me.

This carries over to power exchange for me I find.  On either side, I look into ways to take care of those I share a dynamic with.  Which is difficult to explain when I have a dominant role, or at least less common, but gives me a comfy spot into some form of domestic servitude.

I enjoy taking care of a home.  I enjoy feeding people, and creating a comfortable, welcoming environment that others want to be in.  Mind you, I'm not a mind reader, and don't ever want to be, but the routine of taking care of someone and making their life happier once they leave their job is something that I could be very happy doing.

I don't think I could ever give up creating.  I want to play with as many mediums as I can, and make, and do, and study.  Teaching would of course continue, and I would try to make as much as I could to make life easier, or happier, or simpler.

There isn't even really something sexual about this.  I just think I could be happy doing this.  Which is honestly something significantly more important.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Falling Off

With the holidays coming up, things have been hectic at home.  So, a more vanilla update of things going on.

I've basically taken over the majority of the work for the holidays.  I'm planning the large meals, and organizing shopping lists and making sure we have everything.  I've made my plan for the cookiepocalypse, and have been put in charge of all the baking, because about half the recipes are now my own which no one else knows.  My mother realized how quickly I can crochet, and so I'm making gifts for everyone.
Then top off with everything I wanted to make for people otherwise, writing here, cleaning, and still teaching dance, I'm a bit busy lately.

This is also paired up with long (for me) dry spells from sex, which has me feeling frazzled and cranky.  I notice it kicking in, and try to fight it, but it creeps into my mood regardless.

I feel myself falling away from social media lately.  When I log on, I notice it's all just negativity and mindless ideas with no real substance.  I'd rather just talk to people, and see what's going on.  The only real things I'm keeping up with are tumblr (which is mostly just porn, and even that I'm getting bored with) and blogger here (which is a mix of kink blogs and food blogs)

I'm falling away from devices, and looking at the physical tactile world.  That's where things happen, and where my focus should be.

However, there should be a lot going on soon, and I'll keep things updated with that, so more interesting things then.

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Spoiled

I spent last weekend up with Lux.
We hadn't seen each other in three weeks, had no plans to go anywhere, and just wanted time to relax and reset with each other.

I was supposed to be able to spend an extra couple of days there, but due to the gnome, I wouldn't have those days without the squish.  So just a normal length weekend for us then.

On Friday, I rode up north with the squish, and then met with Lux for the second leg of the trip.  We wound up not being able to grab proper food on the ride, so a quick snack, and once we were done, we were molesting each other in the car, unable to wait until we got back to the apartment.

When we did finally get back, we began the near constant fucking, and mission to break in all the areas of the apartment that we didn't get to last time.  Which included a giggly failed attempt at fucking in his super tiny shower.  During the small windows of time we weren't having sex, we were often snuggled up close on the couch, enjoying warm coffee, giggling about things, planning out future things, and enjoying video games.

It was such a simple weekend, but so incredibly full of care and affection, and we've both come out of it spoiled rotten.  We get used to having the other around very quickly.  We take care of each other, and fall really easily into what the other often needs.  He brings me a lot of emotional and psychological peace and reassurance, while I take care of the little things he often forgets and puts aside.

On Sunday, we went to see some friends before I went home.  We spent most of the visit sitting on a loveseat together, making small simple touches just because we're used to it, and really don't care about hiding anything.  While on the way home my friend had said that she didn't care if we weren't formally dating, or putting a title on anything.  That a connection and comfort like what she saw can't lie, and that we're closer and happier than most couples she knows.  It was kind of cute to hear, and I don't think I will ever stop being amused by the fact that we have such a better relationship without having any sort of formality than most people do with their significant other.

Now that I'm home though, as much as I'm feeling much better, I find myself missing the weekend.  Waking up curled up tight against Lux under the covers and getting to molest each other awake.  Fucking and rolling around until coffee is necessary, and sharing random moments kissing just because.  Enjoying time naked together, knowing how much we objectify each other, and reveling in every moment.  It was a weekend of total peace and affection, and I am grateful for every moment.

I look forward so much to the next time this is possible.

Thursday, November 13, 2014

X

Today.
It's been ten years today, and it hurts like it just happened even still.

A full decade since one of the closest people I've ever had in my life killed himself.  The anniversary of his death is still a bad day for me every year, and I'll likely sleep with the doll he made me again, just like I do every year to have some part of him near me.

He was actually my sister's friend first, but as he was around longer, he shifted to being more my friend than hers.  He wasn't just getting stoned with me like he would with her, but going on adventures, and discussing abstract topics and literature.  We barely hugged, but the way we simply acted like we'd never be apart spoke of our care for each other.

Across the street from him were some mutual friends we would hang out with most days.  He pretty much lived there rather than with his dad, and we all did pretty much everything together.

On the weekends we would play lasertag and sing karaoke.  Yes.  In the same place.  Because yes.
It was ritual.
We'd all meet up, hang out for the evening, have a ton of silly fun, recover on Sunday, then I'd see some of them Monday at school.

Well, one week they weren't there.
I had no idea why, but I had fun regardless.  That may have actually been the night I met Zero, but I don't really remember now.  That is a story in itself.

That Monday, one of the kids we often hung out with popped out of homeroom on my way to first period and told me they had a huge party over the weekend.  That explained why they weren't there, but I still had a bad feeling.  I continued on about my day though, and when I got home, wondered why he wasn't around.  No calls, or randomly showing up at the door, or anything.

My sister got a call from his father.

He was in jail.
He had gotten drunk at the party and fallen asleep on the couch.  The younger brother of our group of mutual friends found him there (who was two years younger than me) and decided to experiment.  The older brother discovered the kid already with cock in hand, not knowing he was completely passed out, and called their mother.
The mother freaked, and called the police.

So now, this person that was so close to me, is taken away due to panic, and I don't know when I'll ever see him again.
He plead guilty just to take the plea bargain.

He would have gotten out just in time to see me graduate High School.
But he didn't make it that long.

It's true what they say that abusers and rapists get the worst treatment in prison.  Whether or not he was actually guilty, the fact that he was gay and being charged for child molestation had effectively painted a target on his forehead.  He couldn't deal with it, and knew that if he did get out, he'd never be able to escape those accusations and abuse.

He killed himself not even two years later.
I was getting ready for bed when the phone rang.  It was his dad.  I was the first person to know after the prison called him.  He was gone, and that was such an odd concept to me.  I never thought that he wouldn't be a part of my life.  I still have days where I miss him, and that idea that there is no way for me to have any contact with him tears me apart.

I couldn't go to school for the rest of the week.  I mostly stayed curled up in bed hiding.  It's the only death to ever actually affect me at this point in my life.  When I finally got back to school, a friend asked where I had been, and jokingly asked who died.  I said his name, and within seconds we were both curled up in the corner of the classroom, apologizing to me.  The teacher saw us, and I explained what happened.  We stayed there the rest of class, because I didn't want to go back to my desk.

In two weeks, I remade the new character I was planning to play at my larp to be a tribute to him.  Including carrying around the doll he had made me.  The few people that could touch it knew that it wasn't a character thing for me to be so protective of it, but a personal thing.  Even when I made another appearance with the character a year ago, people mentioned that I "still had that thing".  Another player said that it would be a horrible day whenever I might lose Dolly, because it is a very important object, because they knew the story behind it.

Every year hits me just the same though.  I've even performed on the anniversary, and walked off stage in tears at the end.

I miss him.

Sunday, November 09, 2014

Looking for Excuses

I notice a lot of people tend to look for some sort of justification of violence in their dynamic.  That they need to look for a reason to engage in any sort of sadomasochistic play that won't make them feel guilty.  I do believe the most common excuse for this tends to be the aspect of "funishment".

Telling the bottom they've been bad, or making outlandish rules to be broken, or simply the bottom acting up in order to get beaten.

And dear gods, I absolutely cannot have this in a dynamic.

I don't ever want to be told that I'm bad, or naughty or any of that as a method of dirty talk.  I don't want to think of myself that way.  I am devious, and definitely mischievous.  I will make you think carefully before ordering me to do things, and constantly challenge you, but I will never do anything deemed wrong, against the rules given to me, or to hurt you (you know, in a not sexy way.)

When those words start going out, it instantly takes my mind to a new place.  That I've fucked something up, and you don't want me.  Telling me I need to be punished for something means that there is some behavior that requires correction, or else the action would not need to take place.  It makes everything totally not sexy for me, because I am trying to be receptive of what needs to be fixed.

Yes, this means that when I get hurt for purposes of punishment, it doesn't turn me on.  It makes me want to curl up in a ball and hide, despite my high pain tolerance.

That said, a fitting punishment with a thorough explanation of what I did, why it was wrong, and what I should be doing instead, will work wonders for me.

However, if you're looking to hurt me in a sexy way, tell me I've been good.  Tell me you're proud of me, that you appreciate me, and that you enjoy me.  Tell me you feel the need to thank me for everything I've done, or that you want to see me marked up for something to think of you until we see each other again.  I'll be able to take far more, and be full of happy wiggles, a contented look on my face, be extra snuggly and turned on by what we're doing.

Simple words can completely change my brainspace.  Whatever mood you want to create, or purpose you have for an interaction, be careful of how you do it with me.

Thursday, November 06, 2014

The Downsides of Teaching Friends

So, my Thursday class is with my first student I ever took on.  She never practices at home, so I have to make sure to kick her butt every week, and sharpen everything myself with her.
We also went to elementary school together.
And a ton of other weird connections that makes the world feel much smaller.
So, you get the point that we're friends outside of dance class.

She has taken on a job with a cruise line, and a few weeks ago came home for her off season, which is why we've been able to have weekly classes.  This paired up with the fact that she dumped the boy she was seeing when she last left, has caused her to make some decisions that are to me, rather questionable.

While she was dating one of my other friends, she would go on about how she would withhold sex unless he promised her rope work.  And not just tying her wrists up, but full harnesses, and binding her completely down to the bed.  She would then bitch about how sex often hurt because her junk was very shallow (which honestly mostly means she wasn't relaxing enough to get turned on).  It annoyed me more than anything to hear about it, because I was listening to both of them separately.  They have since become friends again, and I am glad, because they are both good together, just not meant to date.

In the last few weeks, she's been coming to class freshly fucked, but with a new boy every time.  Apparently she is meeting boys out, or messaging them a few times online, and then seeing them to fuck.  She isn't mentioning a thing about what they are like, just if they are giving her the exact princessy treatment in a fuck that she wants.  I don't even honestly think she talks to them, because she can barely tell me a thing about them.

To the point where she's telling me that there is a guy who has been messaging her online, wanting to start legitimate conversation, and become friends with the possibility of hooking up.  She avoids responding to him, and does so in the shortest manner possible.  He asks at one point why she doesn't seem receptive, and asks if she is at all turned on by him.
As far as I know, she still hasn't answered.
She's afraid to.
Her reasoning for why she doesn't like him: She thinks he's ugly.
Why does she think he's ugly?
He's black.

Commence flailing rage.

Now, I will be the first to admit that there are very few black men I'm attracted to, or even friends with.  This is not because of the color of their skin, but due to the cultural differences that usually wind up clashing.  My preferred "type" is also far less of a physical thing, and far more of a personality driven attraction.  To close someone out though, even to friendship due to one simple physical factor beyond the person's control is just shallow judgement.

It really bothered me to hear honestly, and it still irks me.  I feel like she's been so caught up in getting attention online that she can be picky and just move from one fuck to another without any worry having to form attachments or think of consequences.  That she can move to racism, and choose her partners just out of superficial qualities, instead of actually creating bonds, which result in far better sex anyway.

I'll take my friends who I can fuck and snuggle and go on adventures with.  The ones I can laugh with, talk to when things are bad, and be there for.  I'd much rather be able to share a meal, or a cigar, than show up for a fuck with someone I find hot and never talk to again.  And sure, if they could be way taller than me, much broader and heavier than me, with nice arms and no abs then I'll be doing happy dances while we fuck, and making grabbyhands while we're hanging out, but I'd so much rather simply have someone as a friend than a convenient cock for me to bounce upon.

Sunday, November 02, 2014

Drug Addiction

Of all the things that turn me on, one of the ones that I get to indulge in least is actually one of my favorite kinks.  It's something that joins into so many other things get off from, but I experience it so seldom.
Fear.
Oh dear sweet fuck do I love fear and horror and gore.
If something scares me, it's almost guaranteed that if a partner were to walk up and check, they'd notice me soaking through my jeans with how wet I am.  Actually feeling threatened and out of control drops my non-existent panties, and blood is far and away my favorite body fluid.

And it's a simple explanation for it.

I'm an adrenaline addict.
In all things, I look for a rush.  Instead of running to drugs, or artificial means of producing a high, I want my actions themselves to produce a natural one.
Pain releases endorphins that make me float and I'm instantly giddy.  Driving fast, fighting, hell, even the stage fright I feel before dancing elicit a high that I revel in.
One of my favorite things to do is dance until my legs can't hold my weight any longer, and I'm shaking, but I want to continue, just to keep the high going.

And this absolutely carries over into sex.  I love feeling the high of being beaten, or pinned down and fucked so hard I can't fight back.  A knife held to my throat to keep me still while being fingered will have me quivering and cumming so hard I feel afraid of moving too much because of the knife, and that causes more endorphins to kick in, and it all goes around.

And usually, I tend not to crash.  If I can float along for the first little while, I can continue to function and remain giddy until I level out.  Of course, I'm constantly craving more, and to find new fun ways to bring about the rush, but I seldom drop from it.

Perhaps it is just a drug.  Just something natural instead of ingesting some sort of outside substance.  Normally I have nothing close to an addictive personality though, so this may simply be an odd quirk for me to be this drawn to.

It leads me to experience so many things though, and to feel the drive to find so many more, and that is something I love, because I get to see and feel so many things in this world that others wouldn't think of, and that's just amazing.