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Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Small Moments

As I was walking across the courtyard from one building to the next today I was struck by something. I am genuinely amazingly happy. Happy with my life in some many ways that I couldn't really enumerate them all and be eloquent but I'll shoot for a few and see how it goes.

I was happy that as I took that stroll that I wasn't breathing heavy and trying to flee inside of the building. I was enjoying the cold. I was enjoying the freshness in the air. I was enjoying the sound of my boots on the slightly slushy sidewalks. I was just enjoying a moment in my own mind and what did that mean for the rest of my day. It wasn't going to change things dramatically but inhaling and exhaling newness was kinda stellar.

It made me think about other things that are somewhat new for me like eating well AND working out at the same time. I could do one or the other easily enough but my brain would go of course you can have that delicious foot long hotdog you just killed it in the gym. Or you haven't been to the gym lately make sure those salads are prepped. Truth of the matter is I wasn't as committed to me as I need to be. I may have need accountability but in the last now three months I have dropped just shy of 33 pounds. To be honest short of improvements in how I feel I don't see it as much as other people do. That seems to be normal though. My pants and belts are saying bitch please but I haven't lost and kept off this much weight in a while. I have to see if I can keep it up. For now though, I feel good about life and this journey and what is in store for the near future--like round two of the pinup photos.
And in what some will consider to be a minor miracle I had an epiphany of sorts. Sexy isn't just a size four body in a size two outfit gyrating on any body that comes nearby. Attractive isn't just the stereotypical sense. What intrigues people can be wholly different and that maybe just maybe I might be a source of intrigue. Now if you had asked me to explain that to others I'm so there. Make them believe they are desirable--give me 10 minutes and a laptop and I will have them thinking they are a much better written, with depth and fucking sexier version of Christian Gray...dipped in chocolate of course. But me believing that about myself yeah wasn't really in the cards. I had great moment a few weeks ago when it finally dawned on me it's difficult at best to see yourself the way other people do. Even when people would tell me I was whatever (cute sexy hot fuckable take you pick) I would just assume it was because they were trying to get me naked. And while some may have been others were really trying to express to me that I was what they wanted and I just couldn't accept it. I can't say that men don't ever say things they don't really mean. I can say that I'm accepting that when people say it to me now I'm finally willing to listen. With that in mind here are some not quite coded messages for people that may be intrigued enough to have read this far down.

Mr. Wolf I have no idea what will be ahead but you are a treat and a delight and you should let other people know the sides of you that make me smile and slightly cower in fear.

Mr. Dastardly I miss you and all of the crazy ish we used to talk about. Some days I hate things went the way they did and other days I know they had to for whatever reason. Stop being Houdini and say hello once in a while. Plus you still owe me a date.

Mr. Dutchman you make me lust in ways I didn't know were possible and that makes my brain short circuit every now and then. I hope our paths cross soon.

Mr. Prince you're adorable in a very sexual way. The things I could do with you lol.

Mr. Muse there are days I literally have no words for what appears before my eyes. I'm sure the things that run through my brain immediately after words are likely illegal in some states and countries. I'd love to get arrested.

Ms. Lady and the spoons that love her, you're FUNNY and I appreciate your soul bearing. I won't try to molest you but I might squeeze your boobs--just saying.

Ms. Lady I've known forever, you know since Mariah and ODB were apparently sharing pacifiers. Don't disappear as you keep exploring the world. And let me know if you find someone to wear those nipple shields. Someone should have pretty boobs damn it.

Mr. Revere I had such high hopes for you but yeah you just aren't reliable. Such a damn shame though. I haven't had time altering sex with anyone since you. That could be a good thing though I'm sure that's how you lull unsuspecting uteri into housing your babies.
Life is good at the moment. I am happy and the air is still quite fresh. Not to mention that Salted Caramel Orville Redenbacher popcorn is off the freaking chain.

Friday, January 23, 2015

Epiphanies: When Kinky Meets Geeky

Disclaimer:  this could be long and rambling.  I meant to write this post when I got home on Sunday but I was missing my bed, sleeping, and eating regularly so I skipped it.  And then I could have done it on Monday but I was doing work stuff and well then the week go away from me.  Now that I'm semi settled and a few hours away from setting up my new computer I figured I should write.

Last week I spent most of the week out of town at a conference for my profession.  It was good, I got to see old professors and network and learn stuff to take back to my classes.  I know not everyone feels as such but those kinds of conference re-energize me and make me excited about doing what I do.  It was much needed and it was good to get out of the snow for a while. 

And for once I allowed my kinky life to invade that space.  It wasn't obvious and you didn't have supersonic ears you probably didn't hear that life after the sessions ended but it was there for a change.  Short of the built in play day it didn't really overlap the way I thought it might.  From 9 to 5 I did my thing and then from 5 to 9 I was done repeatedly with a few moments left to sleep.  I can't say it would have been as smooth had I been tied up and hurt instead of fucked into a stupor over and over again but I guess I will figure that out sooner or later now that I have had this experience and know that I don't drip in obvious kinky delight the next day.  Even the bdsm session I sat in on didn't give much away short of me knowing the lifestyle name of one of the people quoted in the session. 

I am sure you may wonder why this is notable.  Well I typically am pretty maniacal about my kink and vanilla life mixing.  Not everyone can keep secrets and not out you even inadvertently.  So I'm at a place where I can trust people enough not to violate my privacy but it won't happen every time I'm doing the grown up lady stuff.  Or maybe I'm just much more comfortable with my kink life and know that all things considered it's pretty much just another relational style and nothing more.

So it was eventful and uneventful at the same time.  Save the midnight booty call nothing of note happened.  And really you don't really want to know about the midnight booty call lol.  Be back sooner than later.

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Short Stokes: Molasses Makes Me Horny

I wrote this as part of my writing class with Rachel Kramer Bussel on LitReactor.com (next class starts February 12 if you are interested).  I am working on turning others into multiple part stories but this one was somewhat of a one off.  If you enjoy it please let me know.  If you weren't impressed let me know that too.  And if you are wondering yes, molasses based since can make me kinda moist lol.

Molasses Makes Me Horny

For the first time in a very long time she was going to be spending the holidays alone.  While it might have depressed her in years past, this year it was a gift that she couldn’t possibly begin to express gratitude for.  Her brother and his family were heading off for a skiing vacation.  Her mother was going to a family gathering out of state and that meant when she got home tonight Denise Jacobs would be thoroughly, wonderfully alone, with no plans to do anything but cook and enjoy the next few weeks of silence.  She was naturally introverted when she wasn’t in “go” mode at work.  It didn’t help that she felt very out of place socially with her coworkers most days.  She was a single thirty-something, almost forty-something, round in most of the right places woman with no actual plans to settle down or do more than enjoy her life as it was and they generally were settled and overrun with children. Being able to really rest from all the family and work things and let her mind recharge was on the top of her list of things to do. 

She had been envisioning the time alone throughout the last day of grading, meetings, impromptu parties and other pre-winter break minutiae.  Denise had grabbed enough supplies to be well stocked through whatever cooking binges she went on for at least a few days so there was no need to get out into the rush of last minute shoppers.  She hated the press of people looking over the last bunch of celery, always a sad ingredient which smelled oddly of wet pungent grass.  The fact that it was slick to the touch whenever she grabbed a bunch to make dressing for the family always turned her stomach.  Denise might like a slick stalk in her hand but it definitely wasn’t coming from the veggie section at the grocery store.  The thought of slick stalks made her smirk to herself and then release a deep sigh. Her current paramour, Steven Morris, was tied up with family and work obligations so they would not be hooking up for rug burn, full bellies and Batman related viewing.  They’d see each other next month and the time alone would allow her to keep working on her recipes before they saw one another again.

Denise cranked up the volume on the radio and headed for home.  She fantasized about which dessert she wanted to make first.  Imagined the taste of one creamy confection after the next making her moan with delight as she swallowed it.  Gingersnap crumble cupcakes or gingerbread ice cream?  The ice cream base needed more time to set up but baking several dozen cupcakes after that detailed recipe would be a pain.  Either way she could smell the scent of molasses invading her kitchen.  Strong and woody, it made the whole house feel more warm and homey to her.  Tasting it was always delightful for her even though others didn’t get her fascination with the flavors.  Biting into one of the unusual cookies always produced a tangy sharp sweet mouthful before tossing it into the food processor or ice cream maker.  The scent would linger long enough for her to let her mind wander.  She’d be able to close her eyes and be transported to her grandmother’s kitchen, not measuring a thing but being able to visually gauge what should be in her mixing bowl.  She hadn’t paid much attention to her grandmother’s directive that the way to a man’s heart was his stomach.  For Denise, the way to a man’s heart had always been multiple orgasms but the cooking most definitely helped.  She smiled again and decided to wear the Santa Vespa apron over her pajamas when she began the baking ritual.  

By the time she pulled into the garage and lowered the whisper soft door behind her, she was almost giddy that no one would be around to watch her overindulge in goodies and roasted duck and pasta and rolls and whatever else she could think of while she was on her own.  She might hit the gym during the gluttony but her plan was solely to enjoy every bit of food that entered her mouth.  She had been so completely enthralled with her plans that she didn’t immediately notice that lingering scent of molasses in the air as she entered the house.  It hit her completely when she rounded the corner and was greeted by a most unwelcome sight.  There was her boyfriend of the last two years with her recipe book out on the counter and her kitchen was totally and completely wrecked.  He smiled at her and tried to look optimistic about whatever monstrosity he had been arranging but all that could be said for certain was a bag of gingersnaps was destroyed.  Her unsalted real butter was hacked to bits and there was flour nearly everywhere.  Her smile vanished.  She wasn’t angry, necessarily, but overtaking her kitchen was a major violation for Denise.  Especially when he clearly didn’t have a clue what he was doing.

He tried to explain what his plan had been.  “Honey before you get upset, well more upset, let me say that I knew you would be tired and hungry and maybe lonely so I wanted to surprise you.  I was going to grab takeout after you got here but wanted the house to be smelling like a bakery when you walked in the door and you could start with dessert while I ran out to grab dinner.”  He paused trying to asses her mood before he continued rambling. 

He was going to have dessert waiting for her and then he was going to grab some take out from P.F. Chang’s after she got settled in from work: crispy honey shrimp, shrimp fried rice, plain lo mein and chicken lettuce wraps for them to share.  He went to the recipes she had mentioned several times over the last few weeks and didn’t realize how much work was involved in making ice cream or making cupcakes that didn’t taste like crap.  He was on batch number two as the first had been inedible.  He was pulling out the first pan of the second batch and they didn’t look any better than the first had been.  She stopped Steven from talking and dropped her bag on the sofa.  She rubbed her fingers against her temples briefly and then took inventory of what was now missing from her holiday food festival.  She made a quick list and sent him off in the direction of the closest store and offered to call in the order for takeout but he agreed to do it all while she restored her kitchen.  She cleaned up in silence and tried to find the humor in a six foot two inch computer programmer attempting to navigate a fairly detailed cupcake recipe on his own.  However, she wasn’t laughing and couldn’t bring herself to even smile.  She sighed deeply as she dumped the remains of his efforts into the garbage in the garage.  She went inside to shower and get ready for the unexpected company.  While she was underneath the water, an idea came to her and she decided to run with it.  A brief nod to grandma’s wisdom but with Denise’s spin on it, of course.

She appreciated that he had arranged to sneak in and surprise her for a few days.  She knew he had probably observed her moving around the kitchen easily as they chatted and watched tv that he assumed it would be a simple process to prepare something for her.  Turns out he was great at sneaking but bad at baking.  She smiled for the first time that evening at the thought of him trying to measure a teaspoon of anything and a generous helping of something else.  He meant well and she had to recognize that but oh no more kitchen violations.  She’d work on that later though.  After so many years together, he thought he knew her tastes and desires even better than she knew them but she was still capable of surprising him.  Another of those surprises was awaiting him when he returned to her place in full mea culpa mode.

She had slipped into one of her vintage shapewear pieces.  If it hadn’t been so form hugging one may have called it a slip but it was essentially a full body girdle that pushed her breasts up, flattened her stomach and made her bottom a lacey round mound that he struggled not to touch.  She had loosely pinned her hair up into curls with a few tendrils falling loosely around her neck.  She smelled of lavender body wash and Daisy Dream by Marc Jacobs.  Her feet were in a pair of black Mary Janes and that Santa Vespa apron was wrapped around her torso.  With her cat eye glasses, she was the perfect fifties seductress and he hopped to follow her commands.  The food was placed on the table waiting.  The replacement ingredients were all assembled on the countertop and she was slipping an apron around his waist.

“First things first, if you want to bake in this kitchen you need to be covered up so that you don’t make a mess,” she winked at him and then walked over to the recipe book she had propped up on a stand.  “Follow my instructions and we’ll make something sweet together tonight.”
He relaxed as he saw the warm smile light up her face.  He melted the butter slowly in the microwave, as directed.  It smelled less like the oily goo that melted margarine put off.  It reminded Steven of waffles and that fresh light smell the butter would have when it melted quickly against the sugary crust.  It slid out of the dish and into the mixing bowl in a plop. “Is that alright?” he asked, hesitant each step of the way after the earlier fiasco. With another smile, she assured him it was. Before he knew it she had added the sugar and eggs and whipped up a nice frothy base that looked like frosting but she warned him not to taste, since it did not have much flavor yet.  She poured in vanilla without attempting to measure it, inhaling deeply a few times like she was trying to coat her lungs with the nutty flavor.  She turned the mixer back on to blend the ingredients and he watched as her behind moved in time to a beat only she could hear. 

“Maybe I should more time with you in the kitchen from now on.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen your butt sway to whatever beat you are rocking to now.  I like it.” 
“You may be allowed to as long as you are a good student tonight.  Now on to your next task Mr. Morris.  Grab the bag of gingersnaps and crunch them up with your hands.”  He looked at her waiting for her stamp of approval at his now full bowl of broken cookies.  She kissed him on the cheek and gave him his next step, “See the black machine at the end of the counter?  Dump them in there and keep hitting the pulse button until they are nice and crumbly like the brown sugar sitting there next to the bowl.”  

“Are you sure this is right,” he asked concerned about the amount of crumbled up cookie was in the machine as he watched her while she added flour and made sure the stove was at the right temperature.  

She smiled and nodded as she lined the freshly cleaned muffin tin with paper cups and, after removing the oversized glass bowl from the mixer she gradually worked in the crushed cookies with a wooden spoon.  When the concoction looked ready, she stuck a finger in and slowly closed her eyes as she sucked the molasses tinted cupcake batter off her digit.  He must have been staring harder than he realized, because she giggled as she repeated the procedure, her gaze on his, then mimicked that she would be handing a taste to him before smearing it on her neck.  

She worried that the scents on her body would overwhelm the taste of the cupcake batter but she didn’t get long to dwell on that fact before he had latched onto her neck and was sucking for dear life.  For the first time since she saw her kitchen destroyed her body was happy to see Steven.  Being tied up in his arms as his nibbled on her neck was intoxicating.  They could leave the baking for later but the batter would be useless.  She prepared to push him away and finish the dessert before he hit her sweet spot.  Her giggle broke her concentration long enough to get them both to focus on the task at hand.

She stated that she never had such a willing kitchen assistant and she had to think about how to reward his patience and his dedication.  He replied that if she couldn’t think of anything he had a few suggestions of his own.  “I could just cover you in the rest of the batter and see how long it took you to become soft and creamy.”  They briefly paused as their words settled in and then were back to work with renewed purpose.

The pans were filled in record time thanks to the scooper and her motivated assistant.  There was always a tiny bit of extra batter left and she figured they should put it to good use while they waited for the cupcakes to finish baking.  “Sit down in that chair,” she demanded, and as he now always planned to do when in the kitchen with Denise, he immediately obeyed. Her soft fingers brushed his skin as she helped him take off that apron, his shirt and pants.  She’d assumed he’d be nude underneath both and was surprised by his boxer briefs, but didn’t dwell on the needless obstacle.  She slid the briefs down quickly and straddled him so that her breasts were pressing into his chest.  Denise was sure he hadn’t noticed that she was sans panties but eventually she’d tell on herself if things went as planned.  She dipped her free hand into the batter and trailed a deep v pattern onto his neck and chest.  His voice caught as her tongue made contact with the trail of sugary goodness and then suckled onto his skin.  Her tongue repeated the pattern over and over again until he was sticky but mostly clean, his rumbling noises getting deeper the more she licked. Those sounds were music to her ears.  

His resolve to let Denise rule her kitchen melted when she was done tracing the path of frosting with that hot pink tongue. His aggressive side took over as he murmured in her ear, “You do know how much I love being catered to but I kind of have to devour you now.” He pinned her arms behind her back with one hand, then untied and removed the apron so he could get to her body before freeing her breasts from the binding material.  There wasn’t enough batter or room between them to dip her breasts into the bowl so he coated her nipples with dollops of batter and fastened his mouth to the dark thick buds.  She gasped as her body gave in to the sensations his mouth was sending through her body.  Her head fell back and her eyes shut tightly.  Her molasses dreams entwined with the feeling of a hot wet mouth on her breasts and the scent of honey and soy and sautéed rice and noodles.  All of which were sitting abandoned on the table.  Well she wasn’t hungry for Asian confections at the moment anyway.

Any need to be in charge had vanished, replaced with the need for him alone.  Had he not been such a bad baker they would be enjoying dinner now and settling in for a round of movies.  She guessed it was an even trade off at this point.  She had worn lingerie like this more than once.  He was often frustrated trying to pull it all off and he had no patience for that this evening.  He pulled the fabric up over her ass and let it rest on her hips.  He was preparing to pull off her panties when he noticed she wasn’t wearing any—even better.  He grinned at her as he stood up with her wrapped around his waist and planted her in the seat.  He slowly plastered the remaining batter on her inner thighs completely avoiding her pussy.  His mouth licked and prodded her thighs until she was trembling and trying to pull his tongue into her wetness.   He only obliged because he was wondering if the sugary goodness on his tongue would pair well with her juices.

She was grinding against his face, making slow circles with her hips, when the timer beeped on the oven.  They both paused long enough to look at one another as if to ask, what now?  He didn’t want another batch of cupcakes to be thrown into the graveyard of baked goods that was her trash.  She didn’t want to move, either, but he broke free first.  He stood up and started walking towards her bedroom.  

“Take everything out of the stove and meet me in bed.  Oh, and just wear the apron and heels to bed okay, dear?”

She giggled again as she haphazardly arranged three pans of cupcakes on the top of the stove.  One press of the button and the oven was turned off.  She wiggled out of the girdle slowly so as not to rip it.  She paused long enough to tie the apron around her waist.  The familiar scent of molasses suffused her nostrils as the cupcakes came out of the oven.  However, when she closed her eyes, this time there was no hint of grandma’s kitchen.  There was only one person on her mind tonight. She made it back to the bedroom and smiled at her naked companion.  He was laying on his back on her bed and signaled for her to resume her position on his tongue.  She happily obliged but turned to face his toes.  She moaned as his tongue immediately got to work, diving right into her center as if no time had passed. She reached down to stroke his dick and smiled again.  She had gotten that slick stalk in her hands after all.

© red velvet 2014

Wednesday, January 07, 2015

I just want

Those of you of a certain age or with certain musical leanings will immediately know where the following lyrics come from.  If you don't know, google and expand your musical knowledge please and thank you.

Maybe I'm just too demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father too bold
Maybe you're just like my mother
She's never satisfied (She's never satisfied)

I wrote a paper in college called Elephants and Flowers.  It was for one of my psychology classes and it asked us to detail our lives to that point and our influences and to reveal something about ourselves that we had yet to do.  Elephants and Flowers was a homage to Prince the man who I described then and can still say has authored the soundtrack of my life.  Oh and I told my very cute very gay professor that I was very bi.  Up until the 2000s, Prince had released a cd every year I had been alive since I was three.  There was always a Prince song there to resonate some major life event for me.  When I split with my first Dom Fury became my anthem and his ringtone briefly but I really liked that song so I changed my alert that he was calling to a Jay Z song I hated lol.  Now that you have some back story let me continue.

Those lyrics get sung extra loud and off key in my car, my room, my office if I'm alone and no one is around.  Except I change that *you're just like my mother* line into I am just like my mother.  In about 999 ways I am nothing like my mother.  I listen to different music, have had no desire to dye my hair so people think I'm 10 years younger, I really really enjoy sex (one on one, carefully tailored groups, threesomes, DPs and on more adventurous nights triple penetrations), don't engage in revisionistic thinking about my life, oh and I'll be damned if I don't enjoy a good spanking/caning/flogging/fisting/orothergenerallypainfulthing.  In one way though, I am my mother's daughter entirely (well two if you see cause I kind of look like her clone).  I am just not satisfied.

While in bed that's a good trait for a man with good stamina, it isn't a good thing in other areas.  I've come to calling myself a "lust slut" as I feed on desire sometimes.  There can be perfectly lovely people pursuing me and my brain goes but what else is out there until I shut it up.  Truthfully that hasn't been as much of a problem lately but it was before and I'm sure I jacked up at least one relationship because of it.  I can be serving someone with all of my might and I will think one of a few things 1) I'm not doing it well enough, he's going to replace me, 2) I should be able to do that other thing for him because that's what a good sub does or 3) he's just easily impressed because I suck, not sure why he doesn't see it.  I want to be the submissive he can never replace isn't of just being the submissive he needs right then.

I want to be better and do better and give pleasure and make toes pop--not curl pop.  Swear to God that may be the one moment I'm ever sated.  Not sure what that mental key is but woosah I love that.  I can be having mind numbing sex and what I want then is mind numbing sex that feels like time is standing still.  You don't know how you got into that position sex.  You aren't sure how long you've been having sex kind of sex.  If you could you'd never leave the bed, fuck the bed, you'd never move from being connected to that person kind of sex.  And even when I'm having that otherworldly ethereal cataclysmic sex I wish for pain, for the moment to not end, for something I can't name and can't place but I want it.

And that could be why I get so confused from time to time.  Maybe I'm not capable of being satisfied because I'm afraid I won't be enough.  Of them not being enough.  Or of these moments that overwhelm me when the only thing on my mind is being used and abused by as many hungry, sadistic, lust filled Dom types as can fit on the plane and join me in the nice bondage B&B I picked out for my birthday.  Those moments are infrequent but I know that the only thing that can erase them is being completely overrun mentally and physically.  I want to be so sore that when I get on the plane there is no way to get comfortable.  I want to have my pussy so abused that when I try to touch myself in the shower there's a mixture of pain, ridiculous giggling, and a deep sated sigh.  I want to leave a room full of men passed out in orgasmic bliss.  I mean just having that occur once in life isn't enough.  I'm due for round two. 

I just want a new high.  A new sensation.  Something new to lust for, strive to achieve.  And for a while that will be enough but I know myself enough to know now I have to want something.  It makes me better even if it does make me a mess sometimes.  You'll probably benefit from that desire if we cross paths.  Others most definitely have.  Maybe that's the way to capture my attention.  Give me what I want and make me want something new that only you can provide.  I will be waiting and wanting.

Tuesday, January 06, 2015


Anyone who chooses to interact with other human beings knows there is a chance to be rejected.  Actually, more often than not people will just have no reaction to you whatsoever.  Indifference can be just as damaging as outright rejection but again it's part of the deal if you are not holed up in the house ignoring all other stimuli beyond Netflix.  The last few days have been relatively calm and I have enjoyed the impending rush of the semester.  I'm not completely done preparing but things are closer to being in order than not.  Dinner has been good the last few days even though I somewhat modified the recipe and replaced the carrots with onions.  I've started writing again, I had been enjoying it even though feedback has been mixed at best sometimes when I've gotten it at all--except for my friends (love y'all).  Today I was contemplating working on the next part of the next story and got a much delayed rejection.  I know the editor was closing up loose ends so I don't blame them but I kinda knew I wasn't in the anthology considering its set to be released shortly and I hadn't been contacted oh in September about it.  But it made me reevaluate the whole point of me writing.  Six submissions in the last year and not one has been picked up.  The editing service I hired, that then had some internal fracturing and dicked me around for the better part of three months, eventually said they couldn't help me because I was beyond their comfort level with BDSM.  If I have a future audience at all it appears to be small and I don't think any publisher anywhere will be interested in work with it.  I'm just wondering again if it's time to let this one dream die. 

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

New Year, New Me? Not exactly...

I have been putting off writing this post for days.  Not sure why but I have found something else to do each time I sat down and conceived of it.  I got the new comforter washed so I could put it on my bed tomorrow.  I went to the gym a few times.  I cleaned my bedroom, organized things and tossed things away.  Seriously I found a new thing to do each time it was go time for this post--I've been playing much to my shame Kim Kardashian's game, it's actually fun and I'm hot so yeah there's that lol.  I'm normally pretty introspective at the end of the year and lamenting the lack of something while trying to keep positive about things I do have.  I'm not there this year.  Like at all.  So let's figure out where I am shall we?  Turns out I can kick butt if I really want to.  And by that I mean I can work, work out, learn to swim again, finally take control of my diet and my stress eating AND be a submissive woman at the same time. 

Work isn't perfect.  It never will be but it's pretty good.  And all of a sudden I got quite a few folks who went out of their way to tell me they appreciated what I did this fall and in general.  Tiny moments are all you need I swear.  I'm almost ready for when we start back up in the spring but for now work is still something I enjoy and am happy to show up at most of the time.

The working out was hit or miss sometimes this year.  Feast or famine depending on work, family stuff and general laziness.  I worked out almost twice as much as last year but I can do better.  By my pace at the end of the year it's possible, barring injury and other stuff, that I could work out twice as much as I did this year.  It's turning my body back into the one I used to know and not the one that camped out with me as I got progressively rounder.  No one seems to mind the round but me and honestly if I could just suck out some of the middle I'd be okay.  My goal isn't to be rail thin.  For one, I never have been and I think I'd look weird.  Curves are good, I just want mine to be curvy and not wobbly lol.

Swimming is fun and I like it and I haven't drowned so yeah enough said there.  Still working on breathing as I'm swimming but I can hold my breath quite a bit longer than I thought.

And food glorious food.  I love it I really do but I can admit I was eating as entertainment, to deal with mom stuff, deal with work stuff but not to really help me lose weight.  At least not at the same time as I was working out.  Pulling it together all at once has made a difference and that's good but it also reminds me that when I work out I can eat a little worse than I should and not gain weight.  I don't have time to be a lazy bum anymore.  40 is around the corner and my family's health history does not bode well for long-term excess weight being on your body.  Plus I wanna be sexy when I take my next round of pinup photos lol.  Gotta look hot when I toot out the tushie and pose like I'm on the side of a WW2 bomber.

Submission is an interesting thing.  At least for me it can be very interesting.  I can ebb and flow in that state quite a bit more than I want.  While I am NEVER dominant, if I'm not engaged by someone truly at home in their dominance I can slip into a weird stasis point.  I'm not at all submissive, I'm just sort of a slug.  It can take a while to pull me back there and after going into a bit of a numb state after GN and I split I was just in a non reactive point.  This year I met several people who made me slip and slip hard into remembering that I am a submissive woman.  I enjoyed the reminder and now it's time to push to the next stage whatever that is.

2014 was good, 2015 should be better.  There are no resolutions to make.  Just choices to keep making and improving upon.  Heck I might actually use that passport I got last year.  That would be kick ass.  How about you?

Saturday, December 27, 2014

The Last Unicorn

I remember this movie being horribly depressing as a child.  Not because it had to be but because who wants to the be last of anything.  That would suck.  Turns out (spoiler alert if you haven't seen the movie) there were others or she could make others anyway it turns out all happy in the end.  I thought that was a rip off as a child too though.  I was a weird kid.  Ok I had to check the ending.  Turns out a crazy bull had run all the other unicorns into the ocean and once lead unicorn ran crazy bull into said waters all the others returned.  Still rip off.

Now there are multiple definitions of unicorn within BDSM, one I just learned about a few weeks ago--a single friendly bisexual submissive/switch for a couple to play with at their leisure--and outside of it.  Most of the time I've heard it it is pertaining to some sought after partner that has many desirable attributes but people question said person's existence.  When said person is found they boggle potential partner's minds and thus the unicorn mystique is applied to that individual.  Now when I originally envisioned this post I was pissed.  I was tired of the label if it wasn't really given me what I wanted.  I'm still tired of the label but I'm not pissed now.

I'm not even confused right now.  I haven't committed to anyone because I'm not sure I can.  My track record doesn't bode well for long term commitments.  Something keeps happening that derails them be they family stuff, military deployments or emotional distance.  Yes deep in my submissive spirit I desire to be owned and claimed and serve happily and openly with someone I see on a regular basis.  I got very lucky with Good Nhyte in that he was close enough to make that move without it being a major issue.  I'm not foreseeing that as a possibility right now with anyone in my current orbit.  Plus there's a crazy old woman living here that would make getting spanked choked and fucked well problematic.  I need a much bigger house with better insulation for another live in partner.

I've said before a Dom Collective would be ideal but that's really just me being selfish.  There are things that are good about the folks in my sphere now but of course none of them are perfect, no one is including me, so there are pieces I want that the one has and the other does not.  None of them completely feeds me whatever it is that unicorns love to snack on.  But then again who would know what to feed a mythical creature?  I could be wrong here but I think unicorns may not be a good thing for most people to find.  In my experience, people want to protect me, develop stronger reactions to me faster than I can return, and get inspired to hurt me cause that's what I say I want--it is but sometimes I feel like I'm pushing people into a realm they aren't really naturally inclined to go.  But that second piece is equally important.  I think I'm fundamentally flawed in my ability to love and show affection.  I either love recklessly with my whole heart or I'm distant and detached.  It could be fear, it could be lack of passion, it could be me trying to desperately keep my composure.  Either way I'm never in the same place as my finder is at the beginning or end of a relationship.  There could be a lucky few moments in the middle that we sync up but yeah days like today I'm feeling a little broken in that aspect.

So maybe I am a unicorn but it's a broken one.  Or one that hasn't assembled correctly or is missing some pieces.  Maybe I'm a Toy Story 3 unicorn that got manhandled at the day care center.  I can't say it's unresolved Daddy issues because I loved my dad and he was the first person that told me I could do anything I wanted to do as long as I tried and that I didn't need to depend on the love of my life to rescue me in order to be happy.  I mean that inadvertently could be causing problems now because it takes a lot for me to believe I need someone and even more to actually say as much.  It's not that I don't want someone in my life because I definitely do but I don't know if I can live up to whatever it is they see in me and I'll admit that is a bit scary from time to time.  I want to continue to grow and improve and be as shiny as that term implies.  I just don't know how or if I really can.

So nope I'm not a pissed off unicorn tonight.  Just a little confused.