Tithing 2

(Not sexual at all)

I went on an epic rant about people not being generous. It was not a good one, but it served a purpose in that it made me see that there are no excuses. Either live your truth or stop trying to say it’s your belief because without execution it’s all just blah blah blah bullshit. I suppose I can extrapolate that into the Domme world too. This post is not about sex or erotica, it’s about money.

I made $990 in the last 30 days. Pathetic. I know. Not enough to sustain a healthy lifestyle let alone pay a mortgage. Anyway. Not the point. The point is that I firmly believe in the 10% tithing ratio. Yes it was instilled by religion but the money will not go to any church. It will go directly to people. Sometime soon, hopefully tonight. I want to make sandwiches and go down to where the homeless hang out (which is not in my city because it’s very white and privileged and conservative and has no decent public transportation and has a bored police force with nothing better to do than run out loiterers) and I love it here not because of those things expressly but for so many more. Anyway.

The neighboring city as you go towards Downtown Portland has pockets of places where I would feel safe showing up with $2 bills and sandwiches and handing them out. I’d love to hand out clean syringes too but I haven’t gotten my hands on those yet. There is an epidemic in our country and people are playing Russian roulette with dirty needles and getting HIV and Hep C and God knows what. It’s disgraceful that we turn our backs on these people. I can’t stomach it. This isn’t the world I want to live in and the only way to combat that is to do something about it.

So far this month I’ve only give out $9 in cash to homeless. So that means I have $90 in $2 bills I can give out. So I’ll get 40 $2 from the bank today and save $10 in case I run into someone before next weeks clients. (That are already booked fortunately.)

If I factor in tithing I have to make about $5k a month to maintain my lifestyle and kids and house payment. And I was 1/5th there this month. Please don’t admonish me for being generous when I least should be. When I’m at my own ropes length. Hard times make you realize who you really are and what you stand for. I’m not going out without a fight, but my fight starts and ends with love…and I’m truly just hoping being true to myself saves me.

It’s all I’ve got. I’ve got so little left to lose that I don’t see the point of being anything more than who I am. Take it or leave it. For the first time in a long time I have a deep peace about everything. I still have my Tonya Harding moments. Sure! Who doesn’t? We are all allowed a pity party here and there. No one sees mine because they are epic and I do them alone. Party of one for those. Lol. Sorry. πŸ’‹πŸ’‹πŸ’‹


Update 1:51am.

My body isn’t excessively tired. My emotions are raw and drained. My eyes and heart a bit heavy. Yet it feels like electricity is flowing through my veins. I can’t explain it any better than that. I feel alive.

I had a hard time finding homeless people where I expected them to be. Well. Yes and no. I told myself when I passed out all the sandwiches I could go home. It was the only way to make myself do it. Which sounds odd because I wanted to do it. I got 7 sandwiches ready (that’s all the bread I had) and I wasn’t going to waste them.

I went to the first spot I thought would have some people and sure enough there were 5 beautiful souls. The single girl was strung out of her mind, poor thing. I don’t even want to imagine her life. Then there was a young handsome guy. So kind. I offered medical attention; nothing major. I have home remedies for antibiotics and high power disinfectant and clove oil for tooth pain. I only got the courage to as him if he wanted or needed some.

He showed me his hands. They were tougher than the thickest leather, with deep cuts and dead white skin. They looked so chaffed and painful that my hands immediately went to touch them. I couldn’t stop myself. He asked for lotion. I knew I had Vitamin E in the car and I had brought extra baggies for the clove oil. So I put a lot of vitamin E in a baggie for him. I gave each person a sandwich, pretzel chips and the $2 bill.

The older man, the one that stayed back the most didn’t take the chips because he had a tracheotomy. I held back tears even before I got there and the whole time and finally just broke down in sobs on the way home and it felt so good and it felt so bad. (This is why I like to switch. I like to feel this too. Anyway.)

The scariest part was when there weren’t enough people there to distribute all 7 sandwiches and I drove on. No one at the second place so I trolled the shopping center alley and struck on one guy hunting for batteries. He gets 5 cents per battery oar and does more to save the planet than the majority of us probably. Lol.

He wanted a sandwich too. So I’m down to one now: right? Just one. I ask him where I can find some homeless. Under the bridge he tells me (no surprise right). I figured there was people at that park and I’ve seen people under that bridge during the day many times but never been there at 9:30pm. I didn’t know it was in the pitch dark, without a soul around and up a thicket path away from the parking lot. A dark long thicket road towards a dark and quiet bridge belly.

I walked halfway there and chickened out. I turned to talk away but only got two steps away when I stood complete still. I didn’t know what to do. I was pretty sure someone must be under that bridge. But no lights; no sounds. Not exactly close to where I was even yet. I looked up at the sky and the moon staring brightly at me and asked Hod “what do I do?” And I heard a rustle behind me and then another one. I spun around to see a flashlight at the uppermost part (of the underbridge). The highest part where a person could possibly be without defying gravity; the part where it hits the column of the bridge directly under the cars. Hard to explain without knowing bridge structure. Sorry.

So I yell out that “I have sandwiches”. No response. I ask. “Are you hungry?” No response. Okay I tell myself. 1 sandwich wasted. I did my part and I hear a faint “is that you Betty?” And I say “no. I have sandwiches; are you hungry” and I hear another guy say “yes” then the original guy chimed in “yes please”. I turn back and start walking that way and they say “she’s coming down” and they send a third person I couldn’t see from being so far and so dark and then only having a single small flashlight for illumination.

It’s not pathetic that I hugged her back much harder and longer than she hugged me? Lol. In all fairness she asked for it.

Since I only had one sandwich I gave them more cash. I think about $20 total. Who knows how many were up there. Not even gonna assume they shared though. What do I know? I know nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m just putting one foot in front of the other and fielding my way through; just like everyone else. lol

I’m conflicted about giving cash to homeless; but at the same time having been there and being proud. I know cash is king and food is a blessing. I can only pray it helped more than possibly provided a men’s to an end for drugs. I’d hate for someone to die on my watch. Please not on my watch God. Anyway. You never know. Just like we don’t know why things happen the way they happen. They just do. We aren’t privileged to all the answers. Part of the grand mystery of it all. It’s all a beautifully divine hell.

It doesn’t have to be. It just seems the way society is led. I find it all so tedious and abysmal sometimes. So I look hard for the pockets of deep inner beauty and truth. We all carry pockets of truth and some of us are in touch with that beauty; whether we understand or acknowledge it is no matter though. It is there. I love those moments in life. Those moments of deep truthful beauty; they make life worth living.

And to be honest and I’ve said this a million times. In their same position I would probably be on drugs too. Which begets which really? All ways exist I’m sure…but I’m sure it’s one way to cope too. Although

I’ve always had a small aversion to drugs. Recreationally once in a while some are more acceptable than others. Habitually maybe pot at best…and even then maybe. Definitely only for fully developed brains and emotionally mature people; unless the need is medicinal. Especially since studies show it seems to stunts some people’s emotional development. I would disagree but what do I know.

So Pent Up


All this talk about the D/s lifestyle. All these fantasies that could potentially come true rolling around in my head.

All the erotic pictures I’ve been shown recently. The planning of the red room.

So much. Too much. Just way too much.

But I crave intense emotional connections with sex. Don’t crave…need. Absolutely need. Don’t need. Demand. I demand.

I got there. Phew. Not so hard. Just took a bit of mental acrobatics. It will become more natural the more I work at it.

I can demand. I can get it. I can have all I want. I don’t have to be nice. I don’t have to bend to anyone’s will. I can bend them to mine. Bow fucking down. Yes. Literally!!!

I demand it.


No seriously? Why did no one tell me this before? That which I have been seeking has found me. I could not be happier. Well actually…..


Confidence is so fucking sexy. Isn’t it? Mmmmhhhmmmmm

I saw this man at the gym today; late 50’s I’m guessing. He carried himself like a man’s man. Not burly. Not particularly handsome. There was just something about him. I couldn’t not stare. Generally when I find a man that intriguing they end up being happily married. Don’t ask me why that is, but I’m sure there is a reason.

It isn’t the thrill of the elusive. It isn’t a desire to have the unattainable. These things do nothing for me. It’s that a person in a happy relationship carries this deep contentment. I’m all about trying to own that space without necessitating a secondary person for it. I generally pull it off; except sometimes at night, alone, pent-up, craving…


But sex is easy. Intimacy, deep connection, the thrill of the chase..both being chased or chasing, mystery, a touch of drama, a boatload of romance and romantic gestures. Mmmmmmmmmm.

Yes please. I’ll wait. No biological clock ticking. No financial incentive wanted. No big white wedding necessary. Devotion. Sheer unending torrential devotion. Bring it!!

“I’m waiting. “πŸ’‹β€οΈπŸ’‹β€οΈπŸ’‹β€οΈπŸ’‹

Two subs?

Is outlasting everyone in the steam room a super power? God I want to have sex in there one day. Hot, wet, loud sex. It is 24 hours. Maybe I can bribe the attendant. I don’t want to lose my membership. Lol. I love having sex in odd places. Even if I don’t orgasm the thought of possibly getting caught is so arousing to me.

So I was in the steam room wondering what kind of sub I want. Since I haven’t had either maybe I need to start with one and see how that fits. Do I want the kind that devotes himself exclusively to me or one I task and has a say in all matters. Hmmmm. Well. No idea. Sometimes I don’t know what I want until I know what I don’t want. Lol

The world is in technicolor today.

Thanks to one new friend.

So…sadistic fantasy. I was imagining having two subs. Both full time slaves really. Since I’m converting the garage into living space once that time is up (and I don’t need to utilize it) I will put two subs in there. One I will keep chained to the bed in the little room build out already in there. Not always; that would be cruel. Just as my play toy and I would play with him on and off all day long. Then the other I would task and be good friends with. It’s just a fantasy. They aren’t all meant to be lived. I have hundreds of daydreams a day. Try and stop me.

So what I am starting to understand is that most people are not as sexually fluid as I am. They have grooves they fit in and that suit them and they don’t veer far from those. Seems a bit strange to me but that also explains a lot I guess. And it seems I myself have a groove I never fully accepted or understood that I tend to fall into quite naturally and joyously. Lol. Funny, funny. Soooooo….hmmmmmm.

Gosh. I love this! One day I’ll find the one that is mine to keep and hold forever like an everlasting gobstopper. Until then I think I need to start playing. Yes! Maybe the time has come to put some real effort into this new adventure.

Let’s begin. Shall we?

Gorgeous Young Thing

She was so beautiful. Don’t even ask me her name. She lived next door to me at The Ambassador Apartments. She was maybe 18. She was an exotic dancer and when she got dressed fucking bow the fuck down. Breathtaking!

I didn’t understand the relationship she had with her boyfriend. I could tell they really cared for each other and when she got pregnant and kept dancing and then soon after disappeared (moved) I wasn’t surprised. Not to mention the tile I found her crying in her apartment. I dragged her out and made her come over to my place to calm down. The cries I heard were torrential. She was living a pretty raw life.

I have nothing against erotica and erotic dancing can be as beautiful as art. I’ve seen it. However it should empower women not disempower them. Wow! I just jumped onto that bandwagon. To be fair I’ve been in the lead on that one for a while. Lol

Not necessarily the victim mentality some of the #metoo movement encompasses. Just that I’ve been advocating for women and myself since I can remember…in my own ways because I genuinely do see ya as equals. Equal but different. That’s it. Right?

Guess that’s everyone really. Mwahahahaha

Cross Dressing

Today I spent part of the day texting Paul/Paula. He is a guy I met on Fetlife. He lives nowhere near me which I considered a boon. He seemed real and vulnerable and open. All qualities I adore.

He sent me picture upon picture of him dressed as a woman and being pegged and having a red, raw ass from being punished. It was all rather enthralling. I’ve never been with a man who cross dressed…that I’m aware of. That would add a whole new dimension to sex. One that had honestly never crossed my mind. He is straight or cis or only fucks women (however you want to call it).

He is a very attractive woman with a very nice ass and wigs I would love to borrow. He sent me a picture of his ex wearing a strap-on and she was grabbing her “dick” as a man would; as if she owned it and was about ready to do something meaningful with it. It was hot. So hot!!! Like salivatingly hot!! And I realize how much I miss sex and specifically “deviant” sex and I pictured the last man I pegged beneath me and couldn’t help but ache a little.

So Paul/Paula says to me to get some. I could. Maybe I should…but I won’t. It’s the cart before the horse thing. I want love. However, I also want to delve into this Domme thing a bit more seriously. So I will check out a few dominant munches and buy a few books, maybe even entertain a submissive for practice as needed. Maybe…maybe. It’s food for thought and today I’ve had a lot of thought.

Kiss, kiss, bang, bang. β›“πŸ’‹β›“πŸ’‹

Addictions & Deviancy

I have an addictive personality. I’ve known this about myself since I was very young. It is why I avoid certain people, situations and experiences. I have known even from a young age that there are some experiences you just don’t come back from and I have had to be extra cautious because I can get carried away all too easily.

I (generally) self manage this by focusing on positive behaviors that I allow myself to be mildly addicted to; like exercise, my children, healthy eating, healthy pastimes, etc. Sometimes I still fall down the rabbit hole. Thankfully I’ve always managed to self correct before causing any real lasting long term damage.

I remember the first and only time I tried crack cocaine. I was 15. A 19 year old drug dealing friend who I knew had a major crush on me offered it to me. I was pretty sure he had ulterior motives but I had nothing better to do. To say I lacked adequate adult supervision and support would have been a gross understatement.

So we went back to the tiny, empty apartment I shared with my dad, his girlfriend and her daughter and he prepared the concoction using coke and simple household products he found there. The minute the drug hit my body I felt a euphoria unlike anything ever before. I vividly remember staring at the sky thinking that nothing ever would match this high again. It faded so fast and he immediately offered me more at his place.

I had been there dozens of times before but this was somehow different. I looked at him and he looked nefarious. I smiled pleasantly at him and said something to the effects of

“thanks but I am never touching that drug again”

and I never have. I remember the look on his face. His jaw literally dropped and he said nothing, but from that day on he treated me with a lot more respect than he offered any of the other teenagers that surrounded him.

What am I getting at?

There are tons of things in life that one can’t walk back from…or you can but the climb back is so slippery and hard that it takes a fucking miracle and a shitload of hard work to do it. I’ll refer you back to a different blog I write but basically I’m lazy. So lazy… and creating that much work for myself seems retarded.

Deviancy to me seems like a very slippery slide. Fun…sure, sure…but slippery.

And I like normal fun. I really do. I can be just as happy playing bingo with a gaggle of Bitties as I can be flaunting my wares at the sex club. I don’t NEED deviancy. I’ve talked to several people now that have told me that they need it. That once they turned away from “normal” sexual behavior they can no longer go back. That to me screams “red flag!” and I just don’t want that.

I don’t want anything or anyone to have control over me and my happiness. I don’t want to have to depend on anything or anyone to have to get off…I’m still trying to mitigate this vibrator dependency.

Bottom line is that once deviancy passes the fun zone into obsessive and necessary behavior it is no longer just fun. So…I am proceeding cautiously and with eyes wide open. I want taking part of this lifestyle to augment my life. But I want to dip my feet into all life has to offer, not just deviancy. As long as I don’t fall down any rabbit holes I can’t get out of it will all be fine. But I recognize deviancy is a big giant rabbit hole, so I am securing my harnesses before I take any deep plunges.

🀒 My Stomach Hurts

Do men have food issues?

When I get overwhelmed with life food is the way for me to control and/or deal with it.

I know I am beyond distraught and that my emotions are near overload capacity if I can not eat. That’s my cue to take it easy because any decision I make at this point will be a bad one. In this case my emotions are almost comatose and I am just getting by in a daze. When this occurs eating simply doesn’t happen. The mere thought of food makes me feel nauseous. Thankfully this is a rare occurrence.

I’m more prone to the other extreme where my emotions are raw and I’m barely able to manage them and eating is not only a deep comfort but also a way to try to bury the emotions I can’t seem to deal with.

Maybe it’s a girl thing. I’ve never heard a guy say “I binge ate bad yesterday”. Lol but who knows, I’m sure those guys exist. I tend to think that the majority of men probably bury their emotions into drugs, alcohol, work or some other distraction though and not typically food.


I can barely move right now. I must have ate my weight in sugar and junk food today. Uugggh.

I’m going to go sleep it off. Night ya’ll. πŸ’‹