Demanding Whore*

I’m one bossy ass bitch.

I am an alcoholic

I am a sex addict

I am a manic depressive

I have massive anxiety build-ups

I have a highly addictive and obsessive character

I push really fucking hard but pamper even harder….everyone…especially myself and the ones I love.

I may have some current flavor of the century personality disorder

And you know what????

I don’t give a shit

I’m perfectly fine with all of it

Because I manage it……&

Even on the days I give in to it

I do so on MY TERMS

Like right now I would love nothing more than an ice cold glass of premium champagne**. If I wanted to get drunk or even just drink I have alcohol readily available upstairs. But that is not what I want.

I want what I want and that’s what I God damn fucking want…..and if it comes yay-fucking-fantasmic and if it doesn’t oh fucking well.

I learned early on you don’t always get what you want and then I learned that you do….if you’re willing to wait….and I’m one patient little nympho.

——

*yea I said it. I am not that, but I can laugh at myself. I know who I am. I have nothing to prove to anyone. God and I are good. Soo yea. Keep your judgement to yourself and call yourself whatever you want. K?

**because it’s smoother and has a more teeny-tiny yummy bubbles, not because it costs more.

Burn it Down

I have been feeling a bit off. It was this birthday coupled with feelings of depression and angst. I hadn’t been to the gym in a while (maybe a week) and I desperately needed it.

I went on the treadmill and I did interval sprints until I couldn’t breath. All I could think of….all that kept running through my head was wanting to burn it all down. Wanting all this pain to end.

I kept running and running and running until my heart couldn’t keep up with my head and I had to stop.

It’s an extra long bubble bath night coupled with a heavy dose of THC.

I’m not burning anything down. Don’t worry.

But I am going to use that energy to keep laying the ground work. Doing what I need to do to get to where I need to get to. One way or another. Even if I have to hit the gym daily to keep burning it down in my mind. It’s days like these I wish I had a punching bag.

I was told to get a sub. That’s what they want. That’s what they need. But I don’t do pain for pains sake alone. It has to mean something. He has to mean something….I’m not a monster. I’m actually very loving…just not on the days I want to burn it all down. Today would be a very painful day if I had a sub.

Bad, bad boy

I went to the sex club last Friday and within 10 minutes a beautiful boy wanted to sit beside me. He immediately enthralled me. He told me he had a Mistress and gave me the ins and outs of the Portland Sex Club Scene. There are a handful of clubs here including a very exclusive invitation only one. I was deeply intrigued by it all and by him.

I wanted to kiss his sweet, plump lips. When he asked me for a kiss I initially said no….he had informed me his Mistress lets him play as long as there was no sex. And well…..it was a combination of the way he looked at me (like I was going to be his), what he said, how he acted towards me (mostly subservient and docile but with a little bit of push) and how he made me feel (lustful) that had me desirous of touching him, kissing him, enjoying him.

We made our way to the private rooms and before we went in I asked him how old he was. I was completely taken aback when he said “22”. I don’t have a good sense of people’s ages. I often get that game wrong. I hesitated less than a moment. I knew we wouldn’t be having sex.

For starters I didn’t want to and then he couldn’t. It was the perfect situation. The thought that he could be my son made me laugh. I wasn’t going to marry the boy…and he was well past consenting age. Lol

It was spectacular!! Best make-out session that wasn’t love based. I lost a contact during. That’s never happened. We got to play roughly and I flashed back to Sage and how much I loved that and I let loose on him. Not drawing blood or leaving marks. He isn’t mine to do that to. He has a Domme.

Speaking of…when I went to friend him on fetlife (mistressg3) he got in massive trouble with his Mistress. Poor thing. I hope it was worth it for him. Turns out I wasn’t his first dalliance away from their rule structure. I messaged his gorgeous Master my sincerest apologies and offered her a bit of advice.

Hopefully it helped. In his defense he is obviously, truly in love with her. I could tell from how he talked about her and the pictures of them together, but he seems to be having difficulty with his boundaries. If they don’t come to terms they both can accept they may be doomed.

Is it her job to punish him to make him comply? Is it his job to comply willingly? Is it their job to find a system that actually works? I don’t have the answer. Psychologically speaking, I would think the latter would be the most effective, but the first two are suppose to be the game so maybe all 3.*Lol

I did all I could to make them understand that in the structure they have chosen he must submit before being asked to and she must decide for herself what she really needs to be completely satisfied…just giving in to his behavior is not going to solve anything and waiting for it to happen again won’t solve anything. It’s like any other addiction. Although he deeply likes the punishment; being pro-active does more to actually remedy the situation somewhat. But it’s all so situational really.

There is still hard work in this structure but there is a greater freedom to be who you genuinely are and have your deepest desires met. With genuine, open communication it is a very precious space to be in; a space where you can mutually satisfy each other’s needs.

The hardest part is figuring that out (your deepest needs) and navigating that with someone else’s needs. But….every lid has its pot. I know now….finally…….45 years in the making what I need. The level of devotion. The level of passion. The power dynamic. I found my own self in the rubble of what has been a long hard road.

——

*Maybe it’s not all that simple because they also both switch. That’s something that seems to add a bit more difficulty to this lifestyle. I happen to think it’s worth it though.

Wallowing

Wallowing

Deep

In this quiet space

Am I still breathing?

It’s all in slow motion

As if it were happening beneath water

And it is as engulfing and

Restricting

That beautiful moment

When I indeed realize I can’t take a breath yet

And it feels like I’m drowning

In a sea of regret

And pain

And it hurts so good

I can’t let it go

And yet I know it will leave me

Yet again

To live

To breath

To be

Who I set out to be

Easter Bunny

I was the Easter Bunny today. I volunteered or rather I was volunteered.

I loved it.

To wear a mask and be able to give love and kisses and hugs. It was magical. Some kids were afraid. I tried to assuage them.

Most kids, even older kids wanted to love…wanted to give. Wanted to be open. Then there were the jaded.

I lived it all. I loved. I gave. I cried for the innocence lost.

This world is screwy. I wish I could love everyone. I wish I could give to everyone what they needed to feel loved. To feel alive. To feel unjaded.

God. Bleed for the ones that are so sensitive. So loving.

God. Give. To those that are lost in this mad, mad world.

Pain….all pain.

The darkness has engulfed me today.  I can tell you all the reason why, but they don’t matter.  Nothing matters.  The reasons are just the push…the path was already laid.

The depression engulfed me early….15 was my first suicide attempt.  23 was my last.

(Bob Dylan – A Hard Rain is Gonna Fall)

That’s when I ended up in the emergency room, pumped full of charcoal with the nurses and doctors huddled in a corner staring at me with pity in their eyes.  That’s when I realized where I had gone wrong.  I had lost hope.  I had lost perspective.  I had lost myself entirely.  No matter how bad things get now… they never get that bad because I never lose sight that:; A) things can always be worse, B) you just never know (i.e. hope).

I straddle so many worlds.  It strikes me funny that the term schizophrenia even exists.  To live in this God forsaken world we must ALL straddle so many different realities.  We must all be so many different people encapsulated into one reality.

The pain engulfs me.  (Linoleum – Tweeker – I’ve really just about lost all control.  Walk a thousand miles on my linoleum.)

Where the fuck are you?????

Come already!!!  Just come.

Please!

please

please

please

(I am I said – Neil Diamond)

Male Feminization

Tangent alert:

I’ve been having this conversation with several men and we always reach the same conclusion. There is way too much judgement in the world and for no good reason.

I happen to think it’s based in fear and repression. Oh no!! The unknown. What will happen? What will happen if we let men be men in WHATEVER expression that is…so long as it isn’t causing (unwanted) harm to others. Right? And I am never talking about people’s stupid sensibilities. Please! We are born naked people. Clothing is a societal construct anyway and every baby cries.

What would happen if we let men cry? What would the world come to if we let them dress and express emotion however they feel like. Gasp, gasp. What would happen if we allow them to express enjoyment for the male figure as much as women are allowed and encouraged to do so? The horror!! Ugghhh

I entered the deviant community hoping there would be a bit more inclusivity and instead I find repression, judgement and major hierarchies. I’m all for serious play and grunt work and even a knowledge based pecking order, but outright discrimination is completely unacceptable.

I’m going to keep going with it because it makes me happy to meet other people that are true to their deviant natures. I just wish they would all recognize that we all need to leave the door open for each other….even those we may not understand or agree with. I really don’t understand where the difficulty of this lies. I think sissies, transgender, gender fluid, heteroflexible, homoflexible, all of it….is superb. It’s fucking fantastic. Find your flag and wave it high!!

I’ll wave it with you. We all have a place in this world. Fuck they!!!

I’m Home!!

A new friend from Fetlife and I were discussing FLR’s and he forwarded this article* to me and when I read it everything finally made sense.

I made sense to me. I am by this articles account an Extreme FLR version. Who knew? I didn’t. I mean yes now I do. Now I get it. Now it all makes perfect sense.

I’ve had this eerie calmness and serenity today. It’s one thing to accept yourself and quite another to deeply understand yourself and then to have both. Well…that’s just a very great place to be. Truly a blessing. What took me so long? Lol

* http://www.aboutflr.com/What-Is-FLR.html

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Update 4/23/18

Okay but the funniest part of this that I didn’t want to reveal at the time was that when I read through the degrees of FLR I wanted it to keep going, I identified so much to the extreme but in my head I was like…..what’s beyond that? Isn’t there more? Because maybe I’m that too I thought. Lol.

Now I understand that is M/s. I can’t say if I’ll like it. But I have a very strong feeling it is exactly what I’ve always wanted. Te he he

Things I’ve learned so far from Airbnb’ing

Most people are good.

Most people aren’t comfortable being completely open about their sexuality.

People shed like crazy. I sweep that floor daily and get a huge pile of hair, debris, dust, dirt, etc. It shocks me. This isn’t a brothel. People aren’t constantly in and out. I can’t say how many people are here for each guest but it still amazes me.

Most people are clean.

People like to be left alone. Which I get.

So yep. That’s it. Not that interesting I guess.

——

So far I’ve only had one pillow stolen that I know of. I’m not doing a daily inventory but a cursory once over really. So there may be more but overall it’s been good. So truly grateful.

This house. My business. It’s all I have in the world of material value….and I can’t imagine losing them. So even if this is the temporary way to be able to do that. So be it. The real goal of course is my girls….but if I start thinking about them I’ll cry. Soooo. Yea…… No.