The more things change

So a year ago I wasn’t sure what to do with my submission and who if anyone to explore it with.  A year later I can’t say I’m that far advanced in that deliberation.  However, one thing has crystallized in that time frame and that is maybe my metrics for making that decision have to evolve, grow and change.  I’ve mentioned before on how much I do not trust overt shows of emotion.  They have made me anxious and I figured out why within the last few weeks.  The men that say they love me and want to be with me forever have not kept their word.  So yes I hear the words but at this point they mean little to me because of past history.  So it’s not fair to the new folks but at least I’m aware of it so I can attempt to change how I react to them in the future.  That also means not giving so much weight to lust or the frenzy that it can create in me.  That frenzy seems to change my brain chemistry and before I know it I’m addicted to whomever is creating it and will modify my life to figure out how to get another fix.  I went looking for THIS SONG to illustrate my point with the lyrics that lead into the chorus but I clearly didn’t remember the end of the chorus.  For those who don’t want to click and listen, here’s the lyrics in question:

And if you said this life ain’t good enough
I would give my world to lift you up
I could change my life to better suit your mood
Because you’re so smooth

And it’s just like the ocean under the moon
Oh, it’s the same as the emotion that I get from you
You got the kind of lovin’ that can be so smooth, yeah
Give me your heart, make it real or else forget about it

I can admit that my concept of love typically involves a level of pain and suffering so easy relationships throw me for a loop.  But truthfully I’m flexible to a fault when I’m overly invested in a relationship.  Which is just fancy talk for when I am ridiculously in lust with someone.  The problem with that is lust rarely leads to love and lust alone can’t sustain a relationship.  Well not a long-term one based on more than physicality.  And as I am embracing all these other changes in and about my life it’s time to think about lust being the basis of a long-term situation.  I’m not there yet but I’m walking in that direction at least now.  We’ll see if this is a change that sticks or not.

Pour Out a Little Licka for Naked Sunday

My quiet existence as a sorta single gal will end this weekend when the creature that birthed me, that causes me undue stress and has somewhat single handedly created a situation in which I will always be single returns from visiting my brother and nieces.  Granted I know she has to come back because I am her primary caretaker.  If she stayed with my brother he’d end up getting divorced because she and my sister in law are both just a bit on the fucking crazy side.  But that also means for the vast majority of the year (even when she’s gone if I’m being honest) I get to deal with the the wonderful crazy shit that is my mother.  Like requesting a quote for an addition onto the house, a fence for our giant yard and a garage that connects to both of them and expecting it to be around 25 thousand tops.  Cause that would happen right?  Only in crazy lady land.  I was trying to help her disturbed and CHEAP behind out with the Christmas ticket and she acts as though I just asked her to sacrifice one of the grandchildren.  She wants to see them and not see my sibling and his wife and somehow include a trip five hours a way to spend a day or two with one of her siblings and make it home from some undetermined point.

That would have been enough adventure for today but another incident popped up between friends and somehow I’m still involved even though I’m no where around and should have had no bearing on a damn thing that occurred with them but hey I’m super influential right lol.  I shared my thoughts with both of them at the same time which we have rarely done at least on a honest basis as of late and hope they figure out that situation sooner as opposed to later.  It reminded me of things that I don’t find super enjoyable about the lifestyle when the relationships aren’t one on one or because of the volatility of them what happens when an old partner is confronted with a new relationship.  That may be why I’ve always tried to fly under the radar or maybe not but shit poly tinged things are fucking complicated and I’m not sure I like them.  It also made me a little annoyed on two levels.  These things keep happening cause they get to go to events together.  They live in proximity to ones that can be primarily the brown kids and not a bunch of other folks so yeah kinda hateful on that fact.  The other thing that annoyed me is this felt all like a HS following out.  Tired of that too.

I updated my Fetlife support to Lifetime primarily because over the course a few years you’d pay that out with six month billing.  Plus I keep coming back even if I get frustrated sometimes.  I got a lot of grading done and a plan for classes tomorrow.  I need to get another project checked off and then I’ll be heading to a work conference at the end of the week as my last bit of freedom before the mummy returns.  I seriously don’t want to cook tonight either but I need to prepare breakfast for the rest of the week and ordering a pizza is a pain since I can only get the diet crust when I buy a large one.  Plus I’m trying to stick to the meal plan as much as possible as I try to hit the gym more regularly.  Okay I’m done bitching mostly.  I will miss being super naked for 24 hours solid.  All good things must come to an end though right.

Oh and the birthday function I am thinking about scrapping.  I may do like a friend and just put 40 things on my list to do the year that I am 40.  The level of depravity I want requires some specific players and well I don’t have a teleporter so it won’t happen anyway.  Have a good Sunday all.

It’s Good to be Naked

You know we are probably not naked enough as adults which is why it’s so freeing when we can just be butt naked all day long.  It’s Naked Sunday so I did everything I needed to do today naked save take out the trash cause that would be awkward and potentially public lewdness or something–plus it’s cold outside lol.  Anyhoo, I’ve made meals, watched tv, played games and made a lovely video courtesy of the fucking machine or with the assistance of the fucking machine with a guest starring appearance of the magic wand.  Woosah it was a good day.  A good naked day.

Home Alone, Not Quite Naked

So the last time I was home alone was months and months ago.  It was great but never enough I swear so it is with great pleasure that I can announce I’m chilling alone again for the next 30 days.  So there will be a return to Totally Naked Sundays.  Now that I’ve rested from the ridiculous amount of prep that goes into getting her ready for her trips and the long drive back and forth to the airport I am looking forward to being unclothed again.  I ran some errands, did some laundry and laughed at the internet.  Tomorrow I’ll restart the diet and get back to real life responsibilities.  Today was the last of the cheat days so I’m ready to get back to work on getting pinup or maybe rope bunny cute lol.  I miss rope.  Le sigh.  Beyond the impending full day of nakedness I’m thinking a lot like normal.  Some of it has been inspired by Fetlife posts but it’s had me evaluating who I really am as a submissive.  I have learned a lot about myself in the last year and a half and I am amazed at the person I am now and the boundaries that felt impenetrable at one point that are gladly explored now.

There were lots of reasons why we didn’t explore heavy play when Good Nhyte and I were together, most of them great reasons not to go there, but now that I have I feel like it would be difficult to submit without the promise of that at some point.  I’ve always liked feeling confined in whatever way that could be done but feeling rope on my skin, my body pinned in a certain position, my ability to remove freely restricted and it takes me to this almost immediate happy place.  My breathing slows, my mind clears and I’m naked without needing to take off a stitch of clothing.  I exist to explore that space and whatever desires the nice person tying me up has in store.  Apparently I’m a squirter and with the right prompting or prodding or poking lol it just starts to happen and I really only notice because there shouldn’t be that much moisture there.  I’m better than I thought I’d be at handling certain poly relationship situations but it’s not my forte as of this moment.  I can be spurred into jealousy and not a lot comforts me in those moments but I know rationally that folks have told me that regardless of what I think they still desire me for reasons that are wholly separate from anyone else.  But more than anything on the kink side of things I’ve figured out I enjoy the depravity, the degrading, the objectifying moments/thoughts/whims/wants/daydreams/fantasies/etcetera of Dominant men primarily but I guess the same thing could happen with a Dominant woman.  I’ve also learned that sometimes I just need to shut up because my opinion won’t change someone else and their thoughts on life more than likely.  I’ll share a bit and then keep it moving–that is major for me you just don’t know lol.

While learning all of that would be fantastic for anyone I’ve figured something else out that could have been why I didn’t fully succeed in other D/s dynamics.  I have been open and exposed and to use that phrase in a new way naked in ways that I have never been prior to this last 18 months.  I am flawed and weird and needy and horny and lusting and a great big old slut (well I knew that but I had been keeping it in check mostly because it seemed like I was supposed to and because my partners were not super keen on sharing me).  In short, I have been vulnerable in ways that are typically very uncomfortable to me and for me and even as I’ve been proceeding slowly and cautiously I have shared pieces of myself that I normally keep in check for my own protection.  I’m not sure why I’m willing to leave that safe space.  Maybe because I haven’t gotten what I apparently needed in that space.  Stepping out may do nothing but allow hurt to visit in a different way but I don’t think it will result in just that.  I feel inherently different than the girl I was in 2013.  I’m still a girl exploring things with the right person for a change I hope.  My study skills have picked up if nothing else lol.

These Are Not My People

I’m going to be super random so forgive me if you’re new here.  Do you like Batman?  I don’t mean the men that have played Batman (Keaton, Bale, Clooney, Kilmer) in recent history.  If you do then you have probably seen all the movies and discussed their good points and bad points.  As I was reading Fetlife again tonight I have had a conclusion reinforced for me.  I know that some of my folks are there and if we could just hook up we’d have a grand old time.  The problem is there are all the other folks in the way with all of their “interestingness.”  Yeah I know that isn’t a word but it’s a fit for what I’m seeing.

Folks complaining about their inability to complain without having threads closed.  Folks imposing their weirdness on unsuspecting inboxes.  Folks irritated about the current state of BDSM and looking to assign blame to all manner of malcontents or in general folks they don’t agree with.  Folks who can’t seem to tolerate even a bit of dissension if it flies in the face of their carefully laid daydream.  A reemergence of the One True Way crew.  I rarely have extreme opinions that I’m not willing to at least hear someone else out on before I move on with my day.  It’s getting harder to stumble through the morass of not my people for the fleeting moments of that little group of aliens are clearly my people and are waiting on me to come home–or at least the portion of the planet people like us can fully kick it in.

To be clear this is not just an online/Fetlife issue.  As I look around offline there’s a lot of the same things happening.  I have noticed myself withdrawing from all of the noise again, which I seem to need to do more often than I used to, just so I don’t snap at the sheer volume of stupidity.  Off tangent a commercial from a new Oprah Winfrey project just went off with her voice asking–what do you believe?  I believe that O is the anti-Christ.  Really how does a poor black woman from the country become one of the most powerful humans on the planet?  How does someone whose name was misspelled on her birth certificate, per her folklore, gain so much clout that she creates her own financial impact?  Something ain’t right y’all I’m just saying.

Back to my point.  My people are just as sheltered or hidden as I am.  They peek their heads out to give me hope that I am not Leela from Futurama and I’m the last of my clan.  I’m super tired of looking for them though.  I’m going to wave at those that look promising and give a nod to those that seem to need it when I recognize my people.  But I’m super done with trying to hunt them down.  Be sure to knock and I’ll show you the signal.  Can’t have my people locked outside when we got snacks inside.

At what cost?

So last night I planned on going to bed earlyish for me but when I logged off I couldn’t sleep.  My mind started churning about 50 million things as it is want to do in the middle of the night.  But this was all propelled by what I was doing right before I logged off.  I was tired but not sleepy so I tried to do what normally works, masturbate and pass out after a nice hard orgasm.  Yeah that didn’t work really.  Primarily because I’ve been horny as hell the last few days which isn’t totally abnormal for me but as a result I’ve been getting off a lot the last few days.  Off tangent: my new toy is flipping amazing and has been part of the impetus of all these orgasms.  Anyway, as the orgasm sleeping pill didn’t work I started pondering the woman I had been watching on screen as I joined her in orgasm–Sinnamon Love.  Now for those of you that don’t watch much porn (ROFLMAO no idea how you got here but still) she was a prolific Black porn star for quite a while.  Definitely during the time frame I was consuming most of my porn.  She wasn’t my first female porn star crush, that was most definitely Dominique Simone, but she was one of my longest because she didn’t seem to be anything but natural and enjoying her scenes.  Not to mention she was also one of the first women I saw doing fetish work of any kind that made something stir in me so yeah she definitely left an imprint.  I’m not sure if you have tried to watch much of the new porn that is being made but it’s like new rap/hip hop music to me.  Yes it resembles things that I like but the players are all wrong and it doesn’t do a damn thing for me 99 percent of the time.  I’m sure you’re wondering what I was pondering at 2 in the morning but it was really how while she’s shifted out of performing and into a different reality she seems just as genuine but most of all happy in her skin.  She’s a writer, blogger, sex educator, wife, mother and grandmother—her grandson is adorable.  I was think of her from when I saw her first to now and how much has changed for her and myself.

I won’t pretend to know her life but it impressed upon me something that I have been debating in my own life.  When you put yourself out there then no one can destroy your life for you.  She had been in a career where we all saw her naked and appreciated her energy and sexuality—as well as some potentially condemning her to hell for it—repeatedly for years.  She discussed being a submissive to her partner and dominating others.  She’s been open about her life in ways that I have yet to do with the world.  I know I’ve said it before that it’s related to my job and profession being super conservative.  It’s also partially related to the fact that I continue to find work in small conservative towns in small conservative states.  But it’s mostly tied up with wanting to be accepted and understood and knowing that those who aren’t in the know mostly wouldn’t do either of those things.  I doubt my brother would care but his wife is odd and that could impact my relationship with him.  My mother didn’t know you could spike a watermelon so being tied up and bound for fun is probably out of her wheelhouse.  My dad probably wouldn’t have cared but he’s not here.  The only people currently in my life that know are a few of my male friends and other people in the lifestyle.  The rest know about my former hoe glory days–okay may not former but they don’t know what I do now–and while never judgmental with me overtly I know most of them wouldn’t have gone there even if they had been afforded the same opportunities to overindulge in pretty male flesh.

So what is the cost of acceptance and can I afford to pay it?  I keep struggling with that.  Is it worth my job and the few friends I allow into my circle?  Financially I’ve done nothing that would make me secure enough to live more than a few months if I was fired because I was outed.  I have to support someone other than me so I have to be more cautious in that respect.  I don’t see my friends constantly but I appreciate their love and support more than I state here.  This is the only area of my life that I don’t do my normal thing.  I’m an advocate and supporter of the underserved and underrepresented.  I am all about empowerment and being the face/mentor/model what have you that someone needs so that they can also take their place at the table.  But when it comes to this I am not now in a place that I can risk it and am not sure that I ever will be and that makes me sad.  I get there are trade offs and costs associated with any and every part of our lives.  But in all the other ways I can be empowered in other avenues in my life my sexuality and relationship choices are judged, evaluated and typically means I will be ostracized if I am fully authentic.  I know I’m not the only one that has this struggle but clearly it’s been dancing around in my head for a while because it kept me up last night.

What are your costs for being yourself?  Can you afford to cover them?

It’s Late and I Am…

I am awake when I should be sleeping.  It happens a lot though so I’m not totally surprised.  I am listening to the rain which normally makes me sleepy and/or horny and I am neither.  I am annoyed that the event I knew I could get to, because others had been canceled and another was/is badly timed, has been moved to a time frame I’ll never be able to attend.  And I’ve been waiting like several dozen others for the last month for a refund to be processed because the organizers just don’t seem very capable of doing anything quickly or with any level of transparency at the moment.  I am a tiny bit jealous of the kinky couples who are curled up with one another right now.  Not because they are able to do something kinky at their leisure but I tend to sleep better when I sleep with someone I care about.  I am wondering when and if I need to bite my tongue.  I am waiting for that thunderstruck moment that just says enough already silly little girl it’s time right now.  I am frustrated that I haven’t been to the gym this week.  I am glad that my boobs haven’t deserted me as I’ve lost weight.  I am confused perpetually by what I want versus what I need versus just being overwhelmed by emotion.  I am glad that Rugrats on cause otherwise I’d be watching crappy tv.  I am finally starting to yawn.  I am going to try to go to sleep and dream of something ridiculous that I would probably never do because I’d be too embarrassed to ask or engage if I was asked.

I am signing off now….

Exposure: On Coming to Terms with My Broken Bits

This is probably not going to be a normal post.  It may be more raw and guttural than you were expecting.  So if you need something smutty, click on the writing tab at the top.  If you need something funny or lighter then look for the life is good tag on the right side and click there.  Otherwise buckle in while this rambles on for a bit without a clear plan.

I am or have been struggling a bit as of late.  I have felt fractured.  When I have to focus on work and concentrate on grown up life I am capable and competent and it’s great until I’m tired and needy and horny and just need to be centered.  I used to be able to center myself quite easily.  I was blessed with a packed Rolodex (for you young folks think of the address book on your telephone) of willing partners that would be happy to engage in a mutual exploitation fest with me for a few hours or few days until we were both sated and could head back to our respective lives.  I’ve discussed before why I can’t do that now.  But in case you’ve missed that discussion the thing that I got from my earlier fuckfests was endorphin rush on steroids and a little bit of a psychological hit that I had somehow been used or denigrated.  The fact that I did it to myself mostly by selecting people that would make me feel as such was not lost on me and is why it never had the same kind of impact as being submissive does.  Even if I could be happy with just the rush, and I can’t to be clear, my playmates are no longer 15 minutes away from my front door and I can’t fuck them until six am and still be functional the rest of the day even if they were.  Plus and this is the bigger issue, I need to submit.  I can have sex without being your submissive but without some breath play or some pain of some sort it’s only going to curb the physical need not the psychological one.  Add in a dash of being the guardian of my mother and I’ve got lots of energy pent up that can’t be relieved or directed in the right way most of the time.

You haven’t heard me talk much about Mr. Wolf or the Dutchman here.  That has been deliberate.  I am pretty sure I did the same thing when I was struggling to figure out what to do with Good Nyte as well.  When I’m confused I keep it close to the vest.  That doesn’t help with the confusion but I don’t want to cause anyone any undue distress while I engage in a bit of verbal diarrhea.  I can say this without being confused, I care about both of them in totally different ways and for totally different reasons.  Both are important to me and I am grateful that they are in my life.  I’m not sure I’m adding anything of value to their experience but without them both I would have likely let the site go dark last summer when it was time to renew this domain name yet again.  I am a submissive.  It is the core and central part of my being.  But I seem to suck massive monkey balls at being a submissive in a relationship.  I thought previously maybe it was because I was trying to have the white picket fence thing with my Dom and maybe that just wasn’t realistic.  I get stir crazy, irritable and hunger for someone that challenges me in a way that the life in the burbs cannot.  Since we don’t have a Stepford Dom machine and I can’t do some gene splicing my brain is now hinting strongly that maybe single is my mission with play partners or protectors of some sort.  I don’t know but I don’t seem to be crystal clear about my role or fit anymore.

And that is because I feel inherently broken in ways I can’t fully explain.  I am not one of those girls that ever said bring me a great guy and I’ll be excited.  I need a great guy with a dark side who might do something so humiliating to me that I never want to venture out in public again.  I want the power differential to be clear and ever present and the warm fuzzy moments are then icing on the cake.  I’ve known I was twisted for a long time but now I’m feeling it even more as there is literally no reason for me to be confused about what to do but there is because in my brain things are not quite right.  I’m not sure if I as red is ever comfortable being adored.  red the submissive, the slut, the follower of orders, the receptacle of pain and bodily fluids loves being cherished but when I’m not in that space it’s uncomfortable.  I took a quiz on FB the other day about what kind of man I needed.  I was pretty sure sadistic teddy bear wouldn’t be on the list but I figured I needed a laugh.  I got one but not for the right reasons.  It came up that I needed an artist, someone with a romantic heart who frequently performed grand gestures and told me often how much he loved me.  If you could see my face now and then I’m sure you’d bust up laughing cause just no.  Sappy doesn’t make me happy.  I don’t enjoy constant reaffirmations that you love or adore me.  If we’re fully clothed make an inappropriate joke, smack me on the ass, say something only I will catch as being pervy and tell me I’m cute.  I will light up and be a happy girl.  Tell me how much you want to be with me and how you see our future and it’s not that I’m looking for the closest exit but I don’t trust you.You must want something because you are putting on a hard sell and I don’t like it.  If we’re unclothed and you’re inside of me on any level tell me whatever you want.  Naked I lap up the adulation.  It feeds my desire to serve you.  I want to be the best everything you’ve ever experienced and that stroking makes me enthralled and enraptured and is the closest thing to me believing you mean that when I have to armor up and put on the grown up clothes again.

I know that makes no sense.  I am fully aware of it.  I’ve mentioned it before but I trust your lust.  Your love, I’ve seen that be fleeting and misdirected as soon as someone else needs you more, adores you more, or makes you think you’re 10 feet tall comes along.  I used to think I’d always be a stepmother because I wasn’t sure I’d trust a man enough to breed with him but I had no issues taking care of children he already had.  I’m starting to believe I’ll always be a mistress or a third or a backup wife.  Which honestly I’m okay with because I don’t know if I can handle the energy of being up front.  Mistress isn’t the favorite spot in the rotation for me lol but it’s amazing with the right person and when I’m aware I’m playing the role—don’t hide shit damn it.  The lifestyle is pretty flexible in what we explore but I know mistress isn’t always appreciated.  She’s helping him hide something from his wife.  That’s true, it is, I can’t deny that.  I also can’t deny him if it’s the right him so forgive me if I go exploring.  Again with the brokenness.  What woman wants to be a mistress but doesn’t want it for shiny things or to get him away from his wife?  I just want to be happy and if he can make me happy then I’ll probably be there until he can’t make me happy.  I’m sorry but at the same time I’m not.  I should feel worse about being in that position.  My father cheated on my mother, my older brother’s mother, as well as his third and fourth wives as best I can tell.  Save the third one it didn’t work out so well for those relationships.  But I don’t want to keep the husband at least not at my house or in my life forever.  Nor do I want him at my place for holidays, birthdays and the like.  I want to enjoy his desire for the moments I can get them. Yeah the more that I think about it I’m good and fucked up.  Marry a man that adores me or be another man’s mistress?  My ring finger is not itchy or desperate for adornment.

I’ve thought about going to therapy but my job and my area would make that awkward.  Don’t really want to drive an hour away to be seen and that still may not prevent blow back.  Besides I’m not sure what it would do beyond make it plain that I have issues that I’m okay with on one level.  Actually on all levels.  I like to be hurt in ways that are deeply painful and all at once beautiful.  I never feel more beautiful then when I’m being fucked hard while feeling my breath being cut off and hearing some variation of praise being punctuated with the word cunt.  I used to despise that word so much but now it’s like good girl when it enters my ear canals.  I want to be kept guessing in some ways but always secure that my service is both wanted and appreciated.  I want to desire him more than I desire anything else in the world.  Just as I trust your lust know that mine is always directly connected to the depth of my service.  Fucked up girl parade on aisle three ladies and gentlemen.  Poor aisle three–does anything good ever happen there?

Creepy Commercial Makes Me Think

So I know you have probably gotten tired of all the anti-smoking commercials.  There are so many of them out there and they are on constantly.  But one that I originally heard on my way to bed threw me for a bit of a loop because it sounded like a submissive signing over control to their dominant partner.  If you have never seen said commercial here’s the text:

“I, Amanda Green, at the point in my life when I’m not a kid anymore. Now that I finally have freedom to define who I am. I hereby agree to be bound by you. To let you decide how I spend my money. To let you set my boundaries. And to come running the instant you snap your fingers. With this contract, I relinquish part of my freedom to you.”

I listened it to a few times over the next few weeks after seeing it originally and kept thinking about it so I figured it was trying to tell me something.  And I guess it was.  In no particular order this is what has come up for me upon thinking about her actual statements totally out of context to the cigarette cause yeah I’ve never smoked anything expect candy cigarettes and they were kinda nasty.

  • Well first my name isn’t Amanda Green but it’s not really relevant to all of this, just call me red.  And well red isn’t a kid anymore but the last few years is when I legitimately stopped feeling like I was a kid.  I still felt immature and not quite a grown up and unable to really say that yes adulthood was in my face and in full effect.  That wouldn’t be so bad but I’m a wee bit older than our commercial ingenue.  I have lived and left what I was hoping would be full and fruitful relationships both vanilla and D/s alike.  A million and one plans have come and gone in the meantime because I only saw some things with certain folks and after waiting for one promise to be kept well past any rational point I gave up on baby dream this past fall in favor of taking care of my health.  So yes chronologically I’ve moved well beyond Ms. Green I am just feeling within the last few years like I’m fully in my skin and loving it 98.9 percent of the time.
  • In terms of my submission, with all of the recognition and realizations I have come to realize I want the responsibility of trying to date like the rest of the world does less and less.  I want to find the man strong enough to make me desire to follow him.  That’s a weird thing about me.  The more you demand submission from me, in big or small ways, the less likely I am to surrender.  Wait until I come to you.  Wait until my resolve looks weak or to be wavering.  Wait until I look like I’m on the verge of tears at the thought of you not being in my life on any level anymore.  At that point I will be just like Ms. Green and be happy to sign my power and control over to you.  I really really don’t want it to begin with.  I want to be a 50s Housewife redux for the right person.  I’m just not going to fold for the wrong scenario though.
  • Ok she lost me on the money thing.  You may be flipping adorable but my money stays in my pocket.
  • I have watched my boundaries on things I thought were hard limits slip with people who can overwhelm me mentally.  Not in an abusive or manipulative way but with the knowledge and understanding that they see me, all of me, and see when my breath quickens and my pulse races and know that my body is opening up to their control.  I want those boundaries pushed and those that are meant to do so will crumble quickly.  Those that aren’t will be respected and we’ll move on to new and exciting adventures.
  • I can’t come running every time one snaps their fingers but when I can I promise I’m one of the most attentive little girls you’ll ever meet.  I enjoy the pressure to perform and the need to please.  I enjoy being literally put in my place and locked into my submission.  I enjoy being able to completely let go of my will, of my other roles, of every thing that is not my dominant and His wishes for me.  That would be the ultimate peak in my journey thus far.  It hasn’t happened enough or with enough frequency for me to say more than the few times it has happened I finally felt whole and complete.
  • Contracts are so formal lol but I may be so inclined to sign one if the right situation presented itself.  Right now I just want to know what is needed of me and where I can best serve and perform and I am a happy girl.

Now having broken down a commercial and how it made me consider my submission I can also say that I have considered packing up my submissive gear and heart and saying no mas.  Over the last year it has become more evident that the contrasting parts of me are going to make it difficult to have one person steer and guide them.   I feel like I’m going to overburden any person that tries cause those needs and wants are on such different poles that he would likely feel disturbed trying to keep me in check.  I still want the comfort and contentment that comes from serving but my super realistic side keeps saying get real girl.  So that’s where I am now.  Trying to sort out real.

I hear music….

I hear music and I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m making this pronouncement. As I go about my day and I think about my life and the things that must be get done, I hear music and it makes me think of you. Some of it makes me smile and other things make me wistful and other things make me want to molest you. But I hear music and then there is you.

Sam Hunt‘s deep voice comes oozing out of my speakers and I sing along off key in a full voice thinking of what it is I need from you at that moment and different choruses resonate with me as I stop at the red light and hope no one sees me enacting my own concert in the front seat.

I don’t wanna steal your freedom
I don’t wanna change your mind
I don’t have to make you love me
I just wanna take your time

He fades away and another Sam replaces his voice. Mr. Smith croons out words that I adore and mourn simultaneously. I wanna lay by your side as you stay with me but I know I’m not the only one even if no one can love you like I can and neither one of us will see the signs of what is going on. My lips are left in a slight curl as he leaves my head and heart clear and empty and full and longing.

Michael makes me giggle uncontrollably and I am glad that it’s a good day and that on some level I may not have embraced all of you yet. Sara tries to remind me that love is still fully possible and I just need to choose better. And maybe I should but I stumble and fall and wish to be as fearless as I try to inspire others to be.

Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
With what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

I don’t know where the brave version of me went but she probably is hiding because she’s more worried about how the words cut now. Honesty is almost always the best policy I agree but the hurt in a lover’s eyes is a weight I never enjoy carrying. And screw the hurt that could come back to me if I let you into that space where you can devastate my peace and calm. And just as my resolve is starting to fade and I realize I’m just a fractured little girl looking for a pair of big strong arms to envelope me and hide me from the darkness something totally inappropriate comes on and makes me smile. Feelings, yes we all have them but not all of them rush over me in such a way to remind me that yes I hear music and if you could dance to the soundtrack in my brain I may never walk straight, be alone, want for anything but a good meal and your hand as it caresses my head.

But where does he think you are tonight?
Does he know your nasty side?
(Look at her, look at her oh)

If you want me take me home and let me use you
I know he doesn’t satisfy you like I do
And does he know that there’s nobody quite like you
So let me tell you all the things he never told you

I hear music. All day, all night. I know you can’t spend the night due to my life and your life but all I do is imagine what it would be like having you for breakfast. Gladys creeps in and becomes an anthem for three minutes but I’m not your one and only because I always meet you after another has arrived. So when you press your lips to mine the next time remember this girl can be a bit of fool when she follows her heart but she adores you in ways that she can’t begin to say. But the music can.

Can I talk 2 U?
Tell U what U mean 2 me
Every time U wander
I’ll be your eyes so U can see
I wanna show U things
That I show no other, I wanna be
More than, more than your mother
More than your brother
I wanna be (like no) like no other
If U need me, I’ll never leave
I know, that U know, without U there is no me
There is no me
Without U there is no sea
There is no shore
Love is 2 weak 2 define how much I adore
U, child
U, child
The last words U hear
The last words U hear

(until the end of time)
I’ll be there for you, baby
(until the end of time)