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Sometimes, i write

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I Admit. With Gratitude.
Posted:Jul 26, 2017 12:18 pm
Last Updated:Aug 8, 2017 12:25 pm
239 Views

I’m hurting.

Literally.

Ow.

About 2 weeks ago, at BV --while enjoying myself immensely-- I was the epicenter of a freak accident. I was in an out of the way corner, trying to be out of the way and being close to stuff that had been put out of the way, and something heavy decided to slide from its leaning spot and aim for the floor...

...just as I put my bare foot in its path.

You know, That. Shit. Hurts.

A remarkable bit of silver lining in this was that I had just removed my shoes and turned to get down on the ground and roll up my kit. Had it been a few seconds later, it would have been the back of my head.

I was all kinds of “Oh, It isn’t broken, I’m good, just give me ice.” I must say, I am very, very, very grateful for the volunteers and organizers at BV that encouraged me to get it checked.

(OK, I know am really stubborn, but smart. As nice and sweet as He was to me, I know the Head of Security’s reputation, and have heard stories of foot torture scenes. There was no way I was gonna go lead butt and win. He’s intimidating. We'll say He “Strongly Encouraged me”) Heh.

No breaks, but it will be a while before my foot heals, and having medical attention and antibiotics (and pain meds) kept it from developing into something a whole lot worse.

I know I am stubborn, but as I told the wonderful lady (and nurse) who set up the shuttle to take me to the urgent care and to pick me up after I filled said prescriptions, I know when to accept help.

I also need to thank my roommates for being such amazing friends and gentlemen. Even if they laughed at my crabby, pain-and-codeine-addled “Fucking Fuck you!” Fest because they interrupted my sleep with the sound of their new toys (paddles on palms). *Apparently that was amusing.* They got me ice, let me try to not need help, and THEN took care of me, helped drive us home, and even rolled up really annoying air mattresses because I could not make it happen. There may have been cookies somewhere in there, too.

By the way, I have learned that I process pain with humming, and cursing a whole fucking lot.

I shared pics of my foot with my mom, and with friends on Telegram, but not online. Not on FB, not in Fet, not in Alt. I kind of did not want to be the focus of attention because I was injured. I got my “Poor baby”s, though. And they helped.

I realize that is one of those things I don’t want to broadcast. I think it’s because I don’t want others to make a big deal out of it. Nor do I want to pull attention and energy away from others that need it; such as other injuries, illnesses, or situations that are not so temporary, or that warrant more focus and community support.

However, in not bringing it up, I am also not acknowledging the people that helped. The people that took care of me. The friend that made me put my foot in her lap as a cushion at the last munch, even though I was squalling about being all kinds of “just fine!”

Well, without naming names, because I did not ask them if I could:

Thank you to all of you.

I was a bit in shock and not being realistic about how bad it was. Your insistence and support helped me make sure I was going to be OK. I was right that it was not broken, though.

Yay!! Score one for reasons to be stupid-smug!

My foot is healing, but slowly. When I wake up, it only hurts on top where the impact happened, and the scab is healing. As I go through a work day and errands—while I do try to keep off of it-- it swells. And by the end of the day, it is swelling a lot, but nothing like it was during the first week.

Now it is time to fucking go to fucking bed and keep it fucking elevated for 7-8 fucking hours.

2 Comments
When it Feels Fast
Posted:Apr 21, 2017 7:42 am
Last Updated:Jun 1, 2017 6:45 pm
974 Views

I have had things move “too fast” In this lifestyle. Usually it is a red flag for me:

- A Dom that tells me they intend to own me before we’ve met in person, but usually after some time exchanging messages and most of the time after a phone call.
- Men that tell me they will marry me, collar me, move me into their home and take care of everything. Expecting me to leap at that, before I have spent significant time with them.
- Those that want to start giving me assignments that restrict my interactions with others I am talking to or considering (You know, the dating to find “the one” thing?).

But I can be drawn in. The hope is there that it could be sincere. That hope makes me want to immerse myself in what might be. It is looking at the pictures of a tour of Italy and pricing the ticket. If I can see it happening, and I like what I see, I want to try.

I have rules and filters, though. Safe rules, safe calls, vetting, and lots and lots of questioning.

Typically, from first message to first phone contact would be at least a week.

First meet, depending on distance, can be months.

I need patience. Both from myself, and from someone who wants to meet me. I have a weird schedule, and a need to plan. Even if it is planning to be spontaneous. I have to have contingencies covered. I’m like the GPS on my phone. Rerouting is easy, so long as I know we’re still heading for point B.

OK, so. Something happens, and none of the stop-gaps are triggering.

I know frenzy. If I were talking to a friend on either side of the slash, I’d check for signs of frenzy. I’d try to spot the flags, to look for the golden apples that could be distracting me.

Crap, there are not any golden apples around here.

WTF? I’m pragmatic! Where are the brakes?


To paraphrase something I have written before: ”My --usually VERY vigilant-- pragmatic side is pretty much laying back on the couch with a popsicle, waving at me, and saying ‘Nah. You're good!’”

Ok, so we have our list, our What I want. (referring to the partnership I described as my "Ideal person")

Oh heck! There is someone that not only read that list, but gets it and actually gives it value. They don’t ignore the part about breaking promises. They don’t give me tasks without reward… There’s no thought in the back of my head saying “Did they read that and decide to do the opposite, just because they think they need to be an ass to be a Dom?”

So, it is fast, but inside, in the gut, it is OK.

So, how do they see it? I think I would be more concerned if they did not think it was fast. It is difficult to express that. What worries me is that the fact that it is fast, could be stunning one or both of us enough that we don’t get to go anywhere.

So yeah, there are not any brakes on this particular ride. But if I look over, are they yelling “Whhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!” too?

Then comes the question about whether we throw up our hands or brace ourselves.

OK, take a breath, step back, find footing, stick to first meeting rules, and safe call.

What? Still no brakes?

OK, then maybe, just maybe this is going to be a good ride.

I got my passport about 3 years ago, maybe it is time to book that trip. If it falls through, it is not meant to be.
6 Comments
Then Came The Personal Massager
Posted:Apr 5, 2017 8:19 am
Last Updated:Apr 16, 2017 8:05 pm
1161 Views
My friend just sent me this in a text, Telling me he needed to get me a straight jacket and room at the asylum ASAP.



6 Comments
Viewed Me
Posted:Nov 23, 2016 9:52 am
Last Updated:Mar 19, 2017 9:35 am
3769 Views

Goodness. It is pretty nice to see all these people showing an interest! Woohoo! That "Viewed Me" flag makes it look like all these guys are drawn over and over to my profile.

*sigh* How dreamy and esteem-boosting is that?

Then I look at the list of profiles Alt says I viewed.

Ouch.

The slight inflation to the ego has been negated.

realizing that when a mouse passes your profile within an eighth of the screen, you are viewed, it is a healthy dose of humility.

Fooey. Can I get less humility this week?
6 Comments
THIS just happened:
Posted:Aug 9, 2016 7:12 pm
Last Updated:Dec 12, 2016 8:28 am
11852 Views

WARNING- Possible trigger in the initial message.


This was on a different site.

[Handle actually has "Romance" in it] on 8/9/16 at 8:30 PM:
"Just imagine coming home...and finding me waiting for you. Before you can even cry out, a strong hand over that pretty mouth. Then a gag in it. I kick the door closed as I force your hands behind your back and tie them. Much better. Then I'm going to start slowly forcing you towards your bedroom. I'm going go take my time. I want to see it in your pretty eyes when you realize you're about to be r*p*d.... Yeah; a little dramatic as an introduction, but you could use a little drama in your life! I also do great in a relationship! P---"

My Reply:

"Good thing that did not trigger a panic attack. Not a way to introduce yourself to a stranger when you have no idea how they'd react to a r*p* scenario."

And then i get:

"Whatever, fatty. Get a job... "

Really. I'd dig into it, but yeah. I'm on my way to work.
7 Comments
Random thought from last week. (Redux)
Posted:Aug 2, 2016 7:02 pm
Last Updated:Nov 23, 2016 9:37 am
11552 Views

This did not show up in the blog pages before, i am trying again, just to see if it works.

nope.

When I am in my 70's and 80's, I look forward to being the sweet gray-haired old lady in the car next to you at the traffic light.

At first, you'll think I am having a really animated conversation with myself because there is no one else in my car. You'll chuckle, thinking the old lady is a bit off-kilter.

Then all of a sudden, I'll start thrashing.

You'll start to roll down your window with concern. But then you'll understand it is all fine.
.
.
.
Because:
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.
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Bohemian Rhapsody
1 comment
Enter: A Sensualist
Posted:May 13, 2016 11:48 am
Last Updated:Jul 31, 2016 9:15 am
16508 Views

curtain up:

A sensualist
loving to feel,
to glide along the waves of experience.
Tangible air,
tangible sound,
caressed by light and dark,
and sustained by scent.
Naked, soft, strong,
looking around, exploring,
absorbing all,
tasting,
touching,
smelling,
rubbing silk/cotton/leather against skin.
shivering on her own,
finding feelings,
and greedily absorbing them.


Enter Control:

Smiling,
seeing the raw energy,
the flush of pleasure at each new sensation.
Knowing it is time to teach.
A spoken word,
deep,
strong
reaching in and wrapping around her heart,
making her tingle and melt from sound alone.
All senses focused on His presence.
Dropping,
crawling,
stopping,
sitting up,
softly opening,
offering all,
smiling and inviting Control.
Voice first,
taking hearing,
taking speech
asking for answers,
service,
consent,
pleasure,
and accepting truth
next: touch,
stroking,
enjoying,
strumming her nerves with the lightest of caresses…
feeling,
gauging her response.
eyes locking hers to His,
sparks connecting,
her breath slowing..

"It's time"
"oh please, yes Master"

Silk scarf, shutting out light,
velvet dark filling sight.
she sighs, sinking into the darkness…
skin feeling the air for Him,
listening, hearing only breath,
hers? His?
both.
Strong leather around wrists
ankles extending
body guided into place.
no more to choose the input…
now it is to be given..
selected…
measured…
tormenting.
one feeling at a time,
sharp.
smooth,
warm,
cold,
all of His choosing,
all guiding her thirst.
Trembling,
coursing,
energy channeled into the finest pinpoint
power capping it with sharp pressure,
letting it build
not letting it explode.
her senses reeling,
soaring,
grasping for threads…
cries,
whimpers
wanting
needing
begging.
He sees her,
hears the music of her cries,
playing the instrument of her surrender,
drawing moans,
plucking cries,
breathing sighs.
building to her crescendo.

He pauses,
taking away her input and watching her struggle.
waiting,
watching to see if she can.

she can

she surrenders to complete Control,
letting Him hold her on the edge
vibrating in the
one
long
high-wire
note
that holds the chord unfinished.
Her skin reaches out,
eyes straining into velvet dark
feeling His satisfaction,
knowing His pleasure,
waiting His word.
lying atop her,
removing the dark,
her eyes focusing on His smile,
He speaks,
a pinprick in the bubble's edge,
He touches,
filling,
stretching,
stroking,
rending the opening,
allowing release.
Feeling,
seeing,
hearing,
tasting only Him…
she soars.


stage out,
house up,
done.



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This was written many years ago, when i had had my eyes opened to wiiwd.
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