Saturday, December 31, 2011

...yes Mistress?

OK its a bit of a cliche to say I'm bi curious, but there it is. I've always known it though I have never had the opportunity to explore.  Is it fashionable these days to explore all sides of one's sexual nature? In my day (reference back to 'old willing whore' :) ) it was not fashionable. To be a lesbian was not fashionable, though being a male and gay was supported. Certainly being hetero-flexible, a lovely contemporary word not even conceived in an 80's eye, was not encouraged. A label needed to be fashioned and the lines of the definition boxes were never to be crossed. Bi, gay, lesbian..that was it...oh and straight..almost forgot!

I came close to experiencing a girl when I was 14. A girlfriend and I were very close. We rubbed  and pressed our bodies together whenever we had the chance. We sat so close in school assemblies we almost cuddled, our arms and legs hard up against each other pushing into each other's body so that we almost became one. I was aroused by our relationship. Though I didn't know then what masturbation was, I felt the physical effect of our explorations. We never spoke of it out loud and it eventually faded though I have never forgotten it and think of those secret touches with more than a little heat. Of course I realise now that it was a sexual exploration and I quite regret that we weren't brave enough to explore it to its conclusion.

It wasn't until quite recently that I had another close encounter with a woman. Unfortunately a work colleague, so a dangerous liaison in the first instance. I didn't know if she was gay but she began to show me an extraordinary amount of attention. We went out together and enjoyed each others company. I was aroused by her. I wanted her but far too shy to act. I told my husband and he encouraged it...such a sweetie when it comes to women! Fate stepped in and we were separated by organisational restructure, by life and when we eventually did come back together again she was in a committed relationship with an extraordinarily beautiful and talented woman..D'OH!!..such is life.

I have always put the hetero-flexible part of myself on the back burner. Until! I was chatting with an online friend. A woman. We began to speak about women. We both identify as sub girls however we began to talk about our preferences with women. My acquaintance revealed herself as a little bit switchy when it comes to women. I was surprised (totally) as I heard stories of adventures I became a aroused. I got squirmy in my chair. I was a bit shocked, I thought I had buried that side of myself. It seems though she is there just under the surface. But most surprisingly of all for me, I have discovered the little hetero-flex she in me might like to be dominated by a woman! there a thought..a Mistress. 

Tender by AngelDragonfly

Friday, December 30, 2011

running away

I am running away. To save my sanity I am running away..on my own, with no hub or family.

Feeling the guilt of the good mother and wife but nonetheless I cannot be dissuaded.

It has been a terribly difficult year.

2011..I hate it. Most of this year has been a roller coaster which I know I will survive..I have before (oh the Drama!).

The only way I can survive it though is to run. I am not going forever, just a couple of weeks, to get my head together, to get settled and balanced again. To wash everything that was this last few months away. To feel cool water and warm sunshine on my face. To walk, to photograph the stars..capture them. Maybe then I can return and be the woman my family deserves and the woman I deserve myself to be. I can return to the delicious little whore, wiggle my arse and smile back over my shoulder :)

I have held it together for everyone until recently, but now I have dropped my own bundle like I have never experience before.

I am worried I won't come home,
..but I will..I have a plane ticket!

So in a couple of days I will run, leaving 2011 behind me. 

I will face this kind of year again though hopefully not for a while.

2012 is going to be better, I know it.

artist unknown..but what a beautiful picture.. anyone know?

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

searching for the erotic

I laughed out loud today when I had a look in the last week how some people had found my blog. Search terms that lead the obviously initiated to little precioso one.

Beside the obvious..slut and submissive great favourites of the cyber explorer, people have found their way to me via:
dean yeagle cum! I have a picture by Dean Yeagle somewhere on the blog..but cum? I'm not aware of Yeagle's illustrations cumming on request!

girls taking care of daddy needs- Well this is kind of nice and I can see where this might fit, but the next one boggles my brain!

husband fantasy sex another for him careful - I'm not quite sure what to make of this one, is this a girl fatasising about a hubby, will she require him to have protected sex with another? Who knows?

Finally, one that cracked me up in fits of laughter. I accept that I am in the 'mature' set the wrong side of 40, though still a few years off 50 and even I'll admit to a willing whore, but please! one could be a bit kinder in the search for their old willing whore.

by Alvaros santos

Boxing Day

I love Boxing Day. I love it better than Christmas day. It is a day of new beginnings and relaxation. The pressure released from the cooker of Christmas. The Day when everyone can let go and lay in the sun like lizards warming in the summer breeze.

Boxing day has been taken over in most of our cities with buy buy buy. Quick get to the shops and spend MORE than we did before Christmas. PLEASE! What is this insatiable need we have to spend more? This expression of greed to accumulate more things, more bell's and whistles. ARRRRGH! (Gordon Gecko, the inaccurate slick haired capitalist was wrong).

In my town the government has not allowed Boxing Day shop opening. 'They' say we are the laughing stock of the rest of the country. Really? If that what makes us a laughing stock then bring it on.

I spent the Boxing day enjoying the sun, a bike ride in the national park, left-overs and a picnic in the clear summer air after the family enjoyed the opening session of the Boxing Day test  (Australia vs India) live from the traditional home of the boxing day test. Ok! so I didn't enjoy the opening session..but I tolerated it :)

Nicholson 2001

Saturday, December 24, 2011

happy christmas, happy holidays

Have a wonderful holiday season, be kind to each other and lets forget about our first world problems .. please consider the micro finance opportunities at Kiva. Makes for a great Christmas gift to friends and family (when only the best will do!)

Now back to our regular programming ... such beautiful Christmas naughties

happy Christmas Daddy  - L x

damn..that Dita, she does work an image doesn't she..
...and one for the girls..and some of the boys x

 Peace to all and a wonderful new year xx

Friday, December 23, 2011

Yaldah Tovah - The Healthy Submissive, my learning curve continues

This spun me when I received these few words in my email box today:

There are two kinds of strengths: the strength to lead, and the strength to follow; the strength to control, and the strength yield. There are two kinds of power: the power to strip away another’s soul bare, and the power to stand naked.

Yaldah Tovah

I began to search for more by this 'Yaldah Tovah' Hebrew for good girl.  I have no doubt that a lot of you more experienced than I am with TTWD are familiar with her writings. My interest is piqued. She described in her essay 'The Healthy Submissive' (2001) the traits of a submissive woman. My mind blew its bounds, she is describing me!
  1. The healthy submissive is capable of, and thrives on, intense, intimate, emotionally open relationships. This is often evident in the number of nourishing, sustaining, and life affirming friendships she makes over the years.
  2. The healthy submissive is a giver. She often needs help to ration herself because her impulses nearly always lead her to want to do good for others.
  3. The healthy submissive is capable of intense joy, especially in the context of a sustaining relationship.
  4. The healthy submissive finds significant relaxation when properly related. She is at ease in that place.
  5. The healthy submissive has finely tuned interpersonal sensitivity. She is reactive to subtle shifts in the emotional tone of others.
  6. The healthy submissive has a fluidity of self, a flexibility that enables her to adapt to changing circumstances.
  7. The healthy submissive is playful.
  8. The healthy submissive has no more than the usual cultural conflicts about her body, and its goodness and beauty.
  9. The healthy submissive takes pride in her accomplishments.
  10. The healthy submissive accepts herself as she is, knowing that while her culture values independence and self sufficiency, she has strong dependency needs and that there is no inherent 'wrongness' about those needs.
  11. The healthy submissive seeks nourishing relationships.
  12. The healthy submissive, in accepting herself 'as is' is tolerant of others. But neither will she allow anyone to tell her what 'her' truth should be.
  13. The healthy submissive has a reasonable self concept, aware of her difficulties as well as her strengths.
  14. The healthy submissive hungers to be the object of an intense and penetrating understanding. When her nature is understood and she is held in a loving and firm frame, her devotion is almost limitless. The healthy submissive has an enormous capacity for devotion, from which springs her service.
Of course it has also crossed my scrambled brain that this is my own perception and it may not be the woman that others see in me and born of rage or trauma as a girl? Maybe. Maybe this is just how I want to see myself in much the same way that I might be convinced of the presence of ghostly apparitions by a skilled psychic or the horoscope penned in the morning paper. There is always an element of doubt.

close but no cigar

I have made a decision not to continue with the local man.
It never sat right and he acted in a way that was not good for me. I'm sure he is a fine and good man but we are not a match.

I have to be careful. I am yearning too much, I am too needy, too eager. I would have met this man if he had asked but I could feel his weakness, his insecurity. I want someone to lead me through my anxieties about this thing I want. I need and want to be pushed with surety. I began to wonder about his confidence with me. He said all the right things but did not stand his ground. He did not encourage confidence in me. We are not a match.

I am beginning to measure encounters and men by D, a correspondent and Mentor.
I trust him in this world of TTWD, in a world where trust has come slowly for me.
He is my measuring stick, his way, his integrity, his strength of character, his and now his voice!! one else has got a hope!
I have a crush on my Mentor.
We have no agreement of ownership, no agreement of exclusivity. That would be impractical from different continents. We have no agreement other than friendship.

This girl belongs to Daddy...whether or not he knows it..:)
[Photo:] photographer unknown: Russian diver Natalia Avseenko with two beluga whales in sub-zero water in the Arctic

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

under the

The Christmas season..or the Holiday season if you're from the north American continent...
Yesterday I began to hatch a plan.
What could get for P to show him I care?
What would he like most of all?
Is it presumptuous to say me?
Well that's what I'm guessing anyway.

So Christmas eve I will put myself under the tree. Wrapped in gift wrap and a brightly coloured oversized bow.

Under the wrapping set for him to tear away I will wrap my skin in what I know he loves. A silky red and black corset, fishnets, bare bottom and cum-fuck-me heels (the ones I can only walk in from the lounge to the bedroom..or preferably crawl in!).

And the final touch?..the flogger hanging loosely in my hand. An invitation for him to do as he will (you may remember that I have to encourage my man to hit me, beat me, whip me!)

or maybe surrounded by a circle of toys..vibrators, wrist and ankle restraints, Ben wah balls... mmm the excitement builds.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

returning the gift

Summer frock..she wore no panties that day, his instruction clear.
' you understand?'
'yes Sir'
' that clear?'
'yes Sir'
'...have you a clear understanding of my expectations?' 
'yes Sir'

In the next days she follows his instructions. She revels in her bare bottom, in cumming each day within her limit for him.

He asks her what she is thinking, he wants to know.
She is honest in her answer, questions about the immediate future, where this will lead..all sorts of mild anxieties ..but excitement inside that. Truth be told she loved to be nervous.

He tells her it is a mistake, wrong timing, ...'go back to where you were'.

The frustration explodes deep inside her. Anger fights to find a voice. How can he expect her to go back! He led her here, she gave him her power. He took it then handed it back. She feels his weakness.

Surprisingly she feels the hurt in this denial of what she needs.

Mentally she crosses him out of her experience. 

photo: Terry Donovan 2006

Friday, December 16, 2011

the closet (O DOMeo, DOMeo where for art thou?)

     There is something about a good D/s relationship that makes 
     us feel whole, complete, cherished, adored and yet shamed, humiliated, degraded 
     and used all at the same time. I just don't think anyone who doesn't do TTWD would
     understand. (squirrel)

Squirrel left this in the comments on a recent post here. I think it captures in essence what I have tried to say in a million words. It captures that for which I search.

Its a hard search and that is down to me. I am cautious. Nervous even. I am wary of being exposed as the kinky bitch I am in my work and in my life. I am in the closet in TTWD, a taste of how a gay man or woman sometimes lives in secret. Don't get me wrong, I don't pretend to presume I have a gay persons troubles, but as far as hiding, closeted, I am there.

I cannot confide in friends, family. TTWD is not widely accepted (though I suspect there are more people like me than I know).

This makes it hard to find someone. I am partnered. My man is not my Dom. His interest does not match mine. So he has in his hands a woman who craves, who yearns, who needs to submit, who seaches for her Sir, Daddy, Master. He cannot lead. He cannot answer my need.... grrr ...frustrated Sub girl.

Finding someone else is the key. I am not a free person to do that as you see. I need to bring him along on the journey. To have his permission. Most of all I need to expose myself, step out of the closet.

I hate hiding in the shadows, in the closet with what inside me feels the most normal and natural course in the world for me.

The dark of the closet is making me shrivel..sapping my energy, my sexual self, my playful me. I hate the closet and I want to be free of it, to bend how I need to bend, to submit.

I feel like I can't do it by myself...enter Dom in knights shining armour stage left.
Artist: unknown (? Helmut Newton)

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Dance in the rain

Something David posted. A quick saying. One of those pearls of wisdom that are so very true but sometimes unattainable.

I have been waiting for the storm to pass as I know it will. I have been waiting a long time and I have been worn down by the waiting. This time around I have danced more than I was able to last time.

Yesterday there was a small dance in the rain. I heard his voice from the distance that assures us we will never meet but that is how we started, without that expectation. He is a friend and in the most unusual way he came into my life. His words made me dance. His voice made me feel nurtured when I was feeling terribly alone.  

He makes me Dance in the Rain..thank you Daddy.

picture : Alibibi

Saturday, December 10, 2011

A letter he will never read

Do you think we are really meant to be together forever my love? I have loved you and still do, but it hurts. Our relationship is a one way street. I am pushed and pulled always at your whim never knowing where I am. You are selfish but your ego is so quiet that I barely noticed.

My love, you have never stood in my way, except in the things that make me soar. In the things that are essentially me. 
We have lived with little ambition other than to get though the immediate future.
As I get older my love I am seeing these things for which I long.
The ache is too much sometimes.
I ache for the freedom to be who I am. To be the girl you once knew.
There is no room for me in our life anymore.
I want to stop hiding, the shadows are a dark place my love. 
Crouching, hiding in the shadows. My light dimming. Too weak now to hold us, support us, keep us safe.
Waiting for you to see me. To fill me. To hold me, protect me, make my world sure and secure.

A child, bring me home. 

Happiness ebbing away. The tide receding from my touch.
Tiredness overtaking me, stealing my energy, plundering my capacity to be me, to be a mother, partner, friend.

photo: helmut newton

Monday, December 5, 2011

The difference between pornography and erotica is lighting. (Gloria Leonard)

I live through pictures. My own pictures are not here but I have many. They are for the most part not erotica though I have told the story of she in pictures. These are pictures that I love and artists I admire. I hope you enjoy them.

Artist : Helmut Newton

artist : Kalschwarzer

Measurement : Helmut Newton

Artist : Helmut Newton

Artist : Helmut Newton

Sunday, December 4, 2011

slut-shaming - embracing the differences in my world.

From Kelly Wong's blog More than words stop slut-shaming

I tripped into this blog and thought it interesting though not unfamiliar that the words slut and whore which I use often to describe my inner she as you know if you visit here from time to time, can be less healthy in other contexts and other peoples paradigms.

Why I have embraced them? It is the power and freedom that those words afford me. The power of my slut in her skin. She sizzles, she slinks and she craves to express her sluttishness, her whore.

As much as I cherish the whore in me, the essential she-slut of me, like Kelly I am equally disturbed by a group of young women calling each other these names in greeting (now I am channelling my mother's middle class nice girl psyche LOL). I suspect however, that Kelly would be just as disturbed by my use of the words. She says that by women using them with each other somehow reclaiming them, it gives men an excuse to use them with reference to women, at women, about women in a humiliating context. Well hush my mouth and slap my face with a wet lettuce leaf! Did I get a little tingle when I read her argument there. Yes, Yes I am being flippant.

The difference is the paradigm. When a man calls me slut hopefully it will be prefaced with 'My'. When I hear Slut on His lips, I am respected, I am cherished, I am wanted. This is my worldview.

R.E.S.P.E.C.T....find out what it means to me


Saturday, December 3, 2011

pain slut?

Something a correspondent said to me recently got me thinking.
I have always been adamant I wasn't a pain slut, however it was suggested that I might grow to like it.

Pain doesn't turn me off, but the thought of pain inflicted on my soft flesh doesn't turn me on.In fact thinking about it more deeply I don't really understand pain and the term pain slut.I'm not fond of pegs,furniture designed to torture or in torture itself. Breast binding scares me because, though never having experienced it, it looks like it bloody hurts and I have breasts sensitive to harsh treatment.

Never say never though!

What does float my little boat is the thought of a strong hand. The stroke of the flogger across my arse. Just the thought of it makes me tingle. The thought of that big hand being brought down with force on my bottom. The feel of the resonating flesh wobbling in response.

oh Yes!

Floating my boat comes with the slap across my face. I know some find this a no-go zone but I can't do without it. Forceful strength expressed in the slap, the spank, the stroke of the favoured implement. The twist of my nipples between cruel fingers. The thought of pain, the reality of pain doesn't give me a high. It is the forceful nature of the expression of his strength that sends me into the heavens and it is for that reason I need the harshness of the pain this sting of pain. Pain is a by-product of the reality of His strength.

Pain slut? A whore for pain? ...hmmm...maybe, maybe not... probably not.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Friday Picture Punch

I need to scream
to yell
to cry
make me scream

hit me, beat me, whip me...Make me write bad cheques