Yay! I have a present on the way!
It’s ridiculous that this means so much to me but it does, and whatever.
Last night I talked with p. for the first time since C.’s bad news changed all my plans, again. Since part of my plan to head northeast included being in his city for an extended amount of time so we could pursue things on a more normal basis, and now I won’t be doing that for a while, it was bad news for him too.
Frankly I expected him to disappear for a while as he is wont to do at such times. But instead we had one of the best conversations ever; he’s learning that he can be my friend as well as my bitch, finally. And to make me smile (and show me he took my threat to take on one of the other two cucks I am talking to now instead of him seriously) he sent me a Realdoe, which I’ve been asking for since Christmas. I’ve decided I don’t looove how I look in my harness, nor do I enjoy the ten minute mood-killer break I have to take to get into it. I’ve been waiting to buy a Feeldoe until they came in a realistic color- just my preference; but I’ve already decided if I like it, I’m getting the black ’stout’ as well. So, for once, p. did good.
It should be no big thing to send me gifts. But my recalcitrant slut is soooo nervous about his conservative image that he didn’t pick up a package from me last year fearing it held evidence of his kinky desires; but all it held was an antique medical book as a gift for finishing his residency. So it was a big step… I never thought I’d be in a place where a dildo represented a large step in my most important relationship…but here we are.
I’ll be visiting him soon, so a toy review will be forthcoming, too. I can’t wait to use it on him.
Someone’s in trouble now…
A certain disobedient sub has been begging to be locked into chastity for over a year now and then coming up with every excuse he can think of to avoid it when I bring it up. Being a surgeon, he has some good reasons, tough ones to overcome…MRI machines and whatnot. We’d thought about the disploseable locks, but I don’t trust him to keep them on hundreds of miles from my reach. I’ve had reservations about locking him up for all kinds of reasons; but my patience has run out and my sadistic streak has won over. When p. and I met his behavior wasn’t immediately obvious. I didn’t want to enter into such an arrangement without knowing him better. I also didn’t (don’t) think long term enforced chastity is healthy for an individual or a couple; and with our distance issues soon growing even wider, I advocated waiting until (if) we had a more reliable relationship.
Now I frankly don’t care. And I’ve spent several months tracking down a sturdy lock that should do the trick. A lab safety supply company I located offers a non-conductive, non-sparking, non-magnetic safety lock made specifically for locking up items in a hospital where a metal lock might interfere with equipment. We wouldn’t want p.’s patients sufffering just because he needs his weiner locked up. The entire lock body, hasp included, is polycarbonate. Only the tumblers are brass. It comes with a numbered safety key which cannot be removed while the hasp is open. The hasp is definitely too large for a CBT’s lock hole, so I still have that part to work out.
What really made my day when it arrived, however, were the included write-on stickers in English, French, and Spanish for each side of the lock : “Property Of:________” and “Danger. Locked Out. Do not Remove”.
I’m going to test it in some metal detectors by putting it in my purse and going through; but the sales lady assures me it is safe for use near MRI equipment. Now, I wait for the right time. When I plan to utilize my lock is going to be a surprise to p.; he knows it’s coming and knows that until then, he can back out with a simple word. After that, backing out will be much more difficult, thanks to my new little friend.
Sometime soon I’ll post more about where things are with p. and my plans for him; but not today. Suffice to say I’ve decided I deserve both p. AND sparky, and am enjoying keeping them both, each for their own special qualities. Obligations keep p. and I from being what we want to be to each other for now; but we are making slow progress. I am making some lifestyle changes that will help soon too. And in the meantime, sparky is a good companion and I should probably buy him a special lock of his own too.
Just the way it is. Performed by Ms. R and her backup singers, the Vainglorious Exes.
“it’s just the way it is”…
When p. said this a week or so ago, it really pissed me off. Really. And it really worked on me for several days, but I couldn’t pinpoint why. Or, more accurately, I couldn’t, or didn’t want to, remember why. While trying to stay physically busy and mentally distracted, somewhere between vaccuming and finding a well hidden php parse error for a client, a little recurring memory in the back of my head set itself free and wafted through my thoughts:
that’s just the way it is”
…echoed through my head in a cacophony of several voices from the past that I have worked hard to forget.
And suddenly I knew, remembered what “that’s just the way it is” stands for. Again.
I sat, a little woozy from the sudden rush of memories and voices and mental images. Working backwards, I recognized L.’s voice immediately, the man with whom I had my last long term, and cuckolding relationship. Telling me on my 30th birthday that it didn’t matter that he finally -after years- could tell me he loved me, or that my daughter had grown so attatched to him, or that we worked so perfectly together both in and out of bed. It took weeks of fighting to get him to admit the reason. Which was, that I was, and in his eyes always would be, an escort. As he’d suggested when I hit a rough financial spot, and helped me become; and that this ultimately meant that he couldn’t commit to me. I made the biggest gesture to him I could think of, ‘retiring’ publicly and replacing my website with a message to my clients about why, and a personal message to L. expressing my wish to do whatever it took. In the end, it was still ‘just the way it is’.
Harmonizing above L.’s deep voice was K.’s. He was an awkward Canadian salesman I dated for a couple of years during one of my ‘off’ stints with L.; and lucky to have me. He had initially met me as an escorting client who reached out to me personally when my daughter was injured; but when it finally came down to brass tacks, he made no bones about not committing, at all, because of how we met. “That’s just the way it is…” – I do recall those words fitting into what I wish had been our final conversation. He showed up 9 months later in legal trouble, hoping to save his visa status with a marriage proposal, possibly the only one I may ever recieve. Made in the car as I drove him to pick up his car post jail stay. I never wanted ejector seats in my car quite so badly as I did at that exact moment. What a cherished memory. That’s just the way it is.
There were a few chorus boys, minor flings that could have been much more, singing along in the background a refrain of “just the way it is..is..is”. None of them left enough of an impression to remember the circumstances, but the phrase stood out. And the reasoning behind it was all the same.
Then my first real love, S. broke through in a clear solo, reminding me that I wasn’t really the ‘resume’ wife he needed for his military intelligence followed by medical career. Despite the years I’d spent putting him through school, the support through military basic and tech school and an overseas station during which his non-custodial daughter was severely abused by her stepfather and there were all manner of legal proceedings and difficulties to manage stateside, and during a trip I’d made to help him prepare for another overseas deployment. “That’s just the way it is”. He did say it. Followed by a dear jane letter a few months later, telling me the woman he’d itnroduced me to so I’d have someone to run errands with on base during my visit (another deployed soldier’s soon to be ex wife) was now his wife, and never to contact him again. And he repeated the refrain as if it was some sort of justification or explanation.
There are other times men in my life have used the phrase, too; which is why I’m surprised it took me a week to recall the real meaning. I can remember my father, a military officer and non-custodial parent most of my life, explaining to me glibly why I only heard from him once a year or so with the useless euphemism. Or my daughter’s father, explaining to at age 18 to 15 year old me why he couldn’t be bothered to help me figure out what to do about my unexpected pregancy, or a decade ago why he’d left the country to reside where his child support couldn’t be legally collected and would always drive nice cars, dress well, and live grandly, no matter what I thought C. needed from him. That’s just the way it is. It’s a more comfortable way for those with an emotional bunker mentality to say “I’m going to think of myself first”, and by “myself” I mean the reality of the vainglorious hauteur, not the high-brow noblesse that people like this have become in their own heads.
I don’t like to let these people enjoy their comfortable little lie to themselves. I usually find a way to extract a confirmation of the real reason, in one way or another. This time, it was a brief email message to p. Friday morning; composed like a mirror so that how he responded, or didn’t, would make the truth an unavoidable elephant in the room. No response. It’s early yet to ‘call’ it (not really, but work with me), but I’m pretty sure I know now why it is just the way it is.
An update, what happened in July, some kvetching.
This isn’t anything earthshattering, just a little update.
Some of you keep up with me via my yahoo email account listed on the contact page; and I always enjoy our conversations. BUT, much like this blog, since July, I’ve been neglecting checking in…I did so for the first time tonight in almost two months. And I’m glad I did- I was feeling pretty down, and just a couple of you had been nice enough to send me messages saying you missed me and my blog. Thank you, each and every one of you…I needed to hear that. I missed you guys too.
Everyone knows something happened in July that led to my taking a break from here, and I’ve been promising to share what; but I’m just not sure allthe details are all that important for everyone to know. Succinctly put, I decided to put an end to the mixed signals p2/the younger sub I was seeing was sending me and give him one opportunity to show me he meant all he’d said in the prior 6 months. And I got my answers.
Less succinctly- I had over a week without a kid and decided to surprise my sub with a visit, hoping it would last several days; but knowing that I would take the opportunity to make this boy stop his game playing with me, even if all I got out of it was one night. I arrived and we were entangled in each others arms before the door was shut, and spent half an hour like it was out of a movie, kissing and touching each other passionately in the hallway of his apartment; and it was amazing and powerful and like it was meant to be. He’s a surgeon, and got a call; which he lied to say was a call to come in to work right away- and I knew it was a lie. He had an on call day the following day, and asked me to stay in town(he’s in Dallas) until he was off, that he wanted to continue. Like a dolt, I did. And 24 hours later, when I hadn’t heard from him and drove by his place and saw his car at home, found myself knocking on a door until it was clear he wasn’t answering. A few hundred dollars and a lot of pride lighter, I drove home, having wasted three days and the spending money I had for the first ten child-free days I’ve had in two years. Feeling very foolish and disillusioned. When he showed back up last month to proclaim his need for me, he admitted the phone call was a girlfriend- vanilla- of several months; and claimed to have broken up. And no, there hasn’t been any ‘more’ in his apology attempts; and NO, I wouldn’t take them anyway. But there, that, in a nutshell, is what happened.
Since then I’ve talked with several people, been on a couple of dates with no connection, made seemingly great connections with a few men online who promptly disappeared from the face of the earth. A few weeks ago I met a wonderful gentleman online locally. He’s also much younger than most men I date- 28. We chatted until 5 am one night- an easy, free flowing conversation about all kinds of things, a refreshing change that I’d been missing. We shared similar views on D/s relationships, he was intelligent and engaging, and it was all around wonderful- ending with him saying he was going to bed with my picture in his mind. (adorable). The next week I tried making contact with him once a day, when I saw him online or just through an email; and kept getting no response, then I’d sign off and he’d send a quick ’sorry I missed you’ message. It seemed like I was suddenly talking to someone totally different. I finally made actual contact one night last week for a chat, and it seemed a bit tense at first. When it started to loosen up, it was also getting late, so I made gestures to end the conversation and asked him if he’d like to meet over the weekend for something low key- coffee or lunch, or a walk or something. First he said he’d love to, and then a minute later, that he’d have to check his schedule and get back with me. Ruffled, I told him ‘why don’t you do that, and we’ll see if I’m still free when you get back to me’. He told me he always moved cautiosly in the beginning of a relationship and I told him that I completely understood, but to be careful that he wasn’t appearing rude instead of cautious. The conversation ended shortly thereafter, and I haven’t heard from him since. Of course.
I guess my point is that I am just weary and tired of all the false starts; and very very lonely— not desperate — lonely- after so many all in a row. Disillusioned and a little disgusted, too- with myself and the world. And, feeling the blows to my confidence and trust in people; recognizing the damage that is doing to my ability to present myself in the best possible light. Trying to mend my hurts healthily, without leaving a chip on my shoulder, and acknowledging my responsibility in them. All reasons behind my not being around much lately and not having much interesting to say. Just so those of you who chat with me know, it has nothing to do with you.
I am working on several articles in the background- the improvements to my quilt rack roo-roo suggested and some DIY sex toy fun, my thoughts on chastity, misconceptions about sex workers, a few stories….but in my current mindset I’ve not made much progress. Having re-read my blog from beginning to end recently, I realize that I only come to write here anymore when I’m angry or down. That’s not good. I’m actually a lot happier person than a read of this blog would imply. Just, one with few outlets. So, I’m working on it. Chances are, though, until after the holidays, I’m swamped with marching season and yard work, which take priority to blogging about my kink disappointments. Just know, I’m still around, and it really keeps my spirits up to hear from you. Thanks for the messages.
Ownership of a different flavor, or, Where the hell have I been?
So yeah. I’m still around. Didn’t really leave, I’ve just been moving into a new home and trying to readjust to home ownership, locate my sex toys, and rework all the things in life going from renting to owning changes. And I’ve unpacked enough to have found my laptop cords, finally.
So, what happened in my absence…
I know the site was down for a few days- although I didn’t know it at the time (Thanks Alexandra for the heads up) because my cable hadn’t yet been installed and I was offline for about two weeks. My host neglected to share with me that the new billing system they are using would no longer automatically process my credit card and I’d need to log in and pay each month manually. And then, once I DID go online and pay, it still took a week for them to realize they’d received my payment- apparently I am supposed to also inform them that they have my money. I think I may be moving hosts soon, that was just too much of a hassle for my taste.
What else? Hmm. Oh yes. School started. Marching season started. And I think I have three weekends between now and the end of November that aren’t spoken for completely. I also became addicted to the “Lil’ Bush” cartoon series; mainly because of the HI-liarious kinky references and jokes. There must be a masochist on the writing team. I mean, they had lil’ Cheney calling lil’ Tony Blair a ‘teabag’. And then, wondering if the wires to a time machine could be used to torture people’s genitals at Guantanamo, saying “Murrrmurr MURR…Ouchpouch”. Ouch pouch. That’s awesome.
I also took up a new hobby which I hope can become a career venture at some point, corsetry and custom lingerie. I received my grandmothers seriously heavy duty sewing machine, and I’ve often made my own clothing since an early age. As a teenager I wanted to study fashion design. And of course I love corsets and lingerie, and have thought about trying to make them myself for many years. The technical feild is okay; but I have really lost my passion for web design and have no desire to keep ramping up my learning curve to keep up with the every changing industry standards. It is more the design and creativity aspect that I love, and the way web design is going (for freelancers particularly), that is less and less a part of my day to day work. So, as I was taking my old corset in by four inches (whoohoo!) and stitching in boning it occurred to me how much I was enjoying it, and when I was done, I realized the line where the original work stopped and mine began was invisible. I started thinking about how great it would be to make my own bras and corsets rather than hunt for boutiques that carry an F cup AND in a band size smaller than 36-38 inches, and paying a fortune when I find them. It’s not the sort of thing one can simply jump up and begin doing as a professional right away; I imagine it will take at least a few years to become proficient enough to charge for a quality garment. So I’ve been studying lingerie and corset patterns, history, other corsetiers, and the structure of various pieces, finishing a not so small pile of mending to get back into the habit of hand work while waiting to be unpacked enough to find all of my trimmings and get started. I should get the notions I ordered for my first few within the week…I’m excited.
And now that I own my first home, it is clearer still that I need a slave boy to order around the house. I’ve been doing all kinds of work that I have no business doing. My feet are covered in fire ant bites and I’ve torn all my nails off. I dropped a 10 foot long piece of solid wood on my arch, and squarely hammered my own thumbnail with all my might fixing a bent rivet. I have a nice collection of randomly placed and colored bruises, most of which I have no idea where they came from; I am sure to have more when I buy a ladder next week to work on getting wasp nests off of the upper floor and replacing old caulking in the siding. Someone else should be doing all of that, while I watch with girlfriends over lemonade and laugh; or at least someone else should be there for me to yell at when I hurt myself, while they go get the ice, and then maybe I could hit them until it stops hurting. ;P But, I am loving being the “Owner”, it is worth the cost to my body, slave or no slave.
Which brings me to the last thing. I’ve almost finished composing the post about what happened with the younger sub I was seeing back in July, and will probably post that tonight. But, just to put a good kink in the flow of things, who do you think appeared out of the blue Teusday saying he misses me terribly and feels foolish and is very very sorry…? You know it. I wasn’t really surprised.
We had a short conversation about what happened between us last, lightly sprinkled with apologies. He says he can’t forget me and needs me more than ever, and it’s driving him crazy. I told him it would take a lot more than that and while he says he knows, I’m still waiting for the -more-. When I asked what it was he wanted from me he answered that he wanted to be my property. When you read what he did when we met in July, you’ll know why I am so hesitant. But if you’ve read my other posts about him, you’ll also know there is a truly undeniable magnetism, attraction, and connection between us, that has nothing to do with D/s and was immediate when we met and not something in my control. It’s one of those things I really have no choice about, and definitely something I don’t have words for. Great thing, if the person you feel this with isn’t struggling with it; but when they are…trouble.
So, while I finish up the post covering the last few months between us and our truly incredible and then truly awful meeting in July, can you all do me a favor and answer this one question in my comments area?
Everyone, what is the one universal thing that men who have terribly rude, hurtful fools to incredible women should do when they realize they are sorry jackasses, have ruined their chances, and want to appeal for forgiveness they don’t deserve? It’s a simple answer I’d bet any man out there knows. C’mon, help a pig out . . .