November eigth

For the first part of my life i struggled to please her and was constantly confused by the relationship.  Nurturing, ignoring, nurturing, anger.

Then, in my early teens i was pretty much without her… late teens felt complete resentment towards her, wanted to be nothing like her.

In my twenties i learned a quiet respect for her, and by the late twenties I loved everything about her even her flaws, and knew her as a person, not just a mother.

 

Her birthday was this week, and today it’s been 3 years.  I celebrated by taking flowers to her headstone, and my brother a birthday gift.  Not one that i picked out and liked for him, but one that he likes.  He said i didn’t have to get him anything.  I said i did, i’m his sister.  And i did that for her too cause she’d want that.

I haven’t felt sad today, i haven’t at all.  I actually am rather proud of what i’ve accomlished in the past few years without her, and with her as a guide.  I could have done more sure, but i was expected to do a lot less.

Mothers.  mine especially, was one of a kind.

I won’t mention how frustratingly turned on i’ve been this past week with all the stress, or the fact i’ve been holed up (other then 4 quick outtings with friends this weekend) for the past week with homework.  Instead i’ll just say, that, i got the BEST news, most exciting star struck woot woot news today.  Jenna Jameson… JENNA is coming!!!!!!  Not cumming.  But coming, to the city closest to me, to a stip club, and i am GOING.  pretty sure i am anyways.  I have to, it’s JENNA.

sooooooooo excited.

And on a funny note my mother would be horrified if she knew she was mentioned in the same thread as a porn star, even though it is the fabulous Jenna.

No, thank you.

Lesson one of the day: Do not watch ‘A Walk to Remember’ while trying to do homework and expecting to not cry.
Lesson two of the day: Do not watch porn while trying to do homework.

I have been overloaded with homework, projects, essays, essay questions, midterms, more projects, power points, and little side jobs friends or others are giving me.

I’m so sick of staring at a computer that when i finally do get a break i run for the door.

i need a vacation.

I have been considering an online ownership again, and i think the result may be positive for me.

I’ve also discovered i really don’t want to stretch…anything.  Fists in my pussy or ass just do not appeal to me at all.  In fact, there was a fascinating picture on fetlife.  A guy had an entire ARM up his ass.  An arm. Not an amputee, but a full scaled arm, right to the shoulder.  Not only do i wonder, where the fuck such an arm is going, since the intestines are all twisty and turny inside… but what is it doing to the persons body who owns the ass?  Seriously not good for the body.  I mean, he is going to be 70 and pooping his pants everywhere.  yuck.

So, i guess i found another limit.  No stretching of tight holes with objects or body parts other then cocks.

Seriously, an arm.  More power to him of course, but woah, soooo not for me.

I crave discipline.

i feel a change in my life coming, and i’m excited.

 

 

Halloween Smiles

i feel so immature.

I’m so excited.  I want to get up on my bed and jump around, or dance around the house (ok admittedly I did that).  I want to laugh.  Which is a completely different mood then i was feeling hours ago.

I was working on an assigment in class.

First i had to make a family tree.  Which i’m proud to say, two branches go back to the early 1600s.  And i discovered that there is a town named after my ancestores, a mill, a bridge, locks, and a road.  I also found out there was a famed singer, politicians galore, and people who were mostly business oriented.  Which explains why i’m always thinkng up entreprenureship ideas.

The rest was this:

My Grandmother influenced my life in a very positive way.  She was quiet much like I am, an observer, very wise and appreaciated simpler things in life as well as the outdoors and nature in general.  I spent weekends with her from infancy till I was over ten and even though most often we didn’t do a lot, I learned a lot with her.

My Cousin and I were raised more like siblings.  Our families lived very near to each other after my Fathers death and being five years older I took on the role of bigger sister.  We were much closer though, and though at times fought, I consider myself extremely lucky for having experienced the unconditional love that we had for each other.

My Mother dealt with an abusive Father, a horrible first marriage, the death of my father, single motherhood, returning to highschool and later receiving her registered nursing assistance, she dealt with the death of her common law husband, loss of two sisters, and later the two year battle she fought with terminal cancer.  Through all this she was strong, faithful, a loving and caring woman to all, and always there for me when I needed her.  She believed in me when others chose not to, and I aspire to be the kind of woman she was.

I have difficulty pointing out negative because I would rather choose to focus on the positives of every situation.

My Aunt abused me for four years from infancy till the death of my father.  I repressed the memories until my twenties and though I have dealt with the abuse and without the abuse I would never have met some of the important people in my life, nor been as strong as I am, I do realize her part in my life was not positive, my dealing with her negativity was.

My Step Father was verbally, mentally and even at times physically abusive to me from fourteen to twenty one at which time the officials charged him with his final assault and I became estranged to him, and to my Mother until his death two years later.  Though his abuse pushed me out of the house early, and into meeting many people that I still treasure as friends today it was not something I would choose for anyone to have to deal with.  I do not feel anger any longer with him, but neither would I wish him back to life.  Some people are just filled with poison.

My Uncle is someone I worshipped to a certain extant as a child. I wanted him to fill the shoes of my Father, and in many ways he did try hard to do so.  The problem being he was not of the same personality of my Father, and really is not as good of a man as my own Father was reputed to be.  My Uncle has overcharged me, and humiliated me with his actions to others.  We no longer speak and I am grateful to him for the relationship I received with his sons as ‘adopted’ brothers to me, but his influence in my life has been a betrayal in who he portrayed himself to be.

I maintain a distance from my foster daughter, but she still calls me Mother when she wants something.

I am a friend, and lucky to have long term and new friends who are valuable and consider me a loyal one.

I am a sister and a sister in law.

I am an aunt to my two nieces and nephew.

I am a niece and a grand neice, a grand daughter and a cousin.

I am a student.

I am a home owner, dog owner, car owner.

I am a single woman in my 30s.

I am proud of owning a home successfully, considering I had fears I would not be able to do it.

I am proud that I have had and felt and maintained a completely unconditional and platonic love relationship.

I am proud that I have gone sky diving and faced my fear of heights (which promptly returned).

I am proud that I experienced freedom in traveling and hitch hiking across most  of Canada.

I am proud that I have pushed and finally am attending school in the subject area I wanted to choose years ago.

The experience of loss in my life pushed me to find strength, courage, beauty and positivity in all areas.  Every loss experience was felt differently but in a total the mass sum became strength and joy through grief.  Not only did relationships form over the loss I experienced, but intelligence and openness grew as well.  I was able to study and understand ways in which a person can change their thoughts and feelings into positivity as opposed to negative emotions.  I am not sure I would ever say I am glad that I had to experience the loss of so many I cared for, but at the same time, I am rather proud I have the ability to look at all that loss and find the positive changes, relationships or strengths that happened to because of them.

I will answer the same as above and say the loss of a loved one, specifically my cousin who I considered a brother.  Though I have found positive aspects of all other losses in my life, I have not yet been able to focus and see any positive in the experience of losing him.  His death resulted in a few years of hibernation for me in which I had very little contact or social life, and for that I am still feeling the resulting dilemma of three years lost and having to reintegrate myself into social events and renew my friendships.  This is surprisingly hard to do since in the area he was something of a legend and even three years later people will bring him up when I go out.

Strong, patient, creative, intelligent, blonde, deep, spiritual, temperamental, shy, quiet, loyal, honest, caring, funny, adventurous, crafty, reader, passionate, submissive, compassionate, empathetic, open, sweet, thinker, free.

So after all that release of information i got kind of stressed out and exhausted from all of it, and as i should have, took a break.

AHHHhhhh

Then on my break i remembered that tomorrow is HALLOWEEN!!!!  Which, omg, yay yay yay means i am actually going to GO OUT!!

I haven’t gone out without it being a ‘job’ (aka brides maid horrors) in over a year now.  I think.  Close anyways.  So out i go, and with friends i haven’t seen in far too fucking long, who are non-judgemental and kinky and wonderful.

And we are going to a casual hang out kareokee place and i’m sooo stoked cause i didn’t choose some crazy costume that i’ll be bitching about by the end of the night.  I got a baby doll and a bit of make up, maybe my gogo boots but likely my brown ones, short enough to be slutty but casual enough to be comfy and i’m going to kick ass as a hippy chic.

sooo excited.

i love halloween.  There is something about everyone not only being permitted, but encouraged to dress up in crazy costumes and as someone they are not for one night and to celebrate a world wide emotion like fear and mystery everywhere.  There’s so many smiles.

i am so excited.

i am a lucky one.

i am so lucky to be me.

sure, i need to lose 20 lbs.  But it’s 20, not 100.  Ok maybe i’d be happier with 30.  But 20 would slim me right up considering it’s ALL my freakin belly.

i am grateful, and i am lucky.

Many things make me this way.

i have a warm house, with all i need.

i have felt love, unconditional, without doubt in my lifetime, some never really do.

i know my flaws… and i hope to adpat them to fit.

i have really cute feet.  A sexy little ass, and ultra sensitive nipples.

i am giving, and honest, loyal and if i love you, i love with my all, and even if i stop knowing you, i don’t stop loving you.

i have trees in my back yard that are old and awesome.

i have enough money that i am not starving nor struggling (too much).

i have hot water every morning, food in my belly and a car that i CHOSE and get to drive without issue, it is reliable.

i am not ugly, though i may not be a model, i am cute enough.

i am proud that i have done so much for so many in my life time, and hopefull that in the near future whether serving a Master or not, i am able to do as much for myself.

i am pretty intelligent.

i am definitely creative.

i am superstitious, which i think is kinda fun.

i have a kick ass dog, who is smart and moderatly well behaved though hyper at times.

i have an awesome neighbour who helps me with the snow in the winter.

i have friends who have loved me for who i am, as long as they have known who i am.

i have so much to be grateful for, so much to realize i am lucky, that i feel selfish when i realize i have been bummed out over chance and time and other situations i have no control over.

I am lucky because i realize this, and am able to work towards closing the door on those situations, and not putting my energy into other peoples mistakes long term.

i am glad to be alive.

 

i am backing away from my addicted friend.  It is too much for me to deal with right now.  The last time she was here, she had me come to the store with her, where we happened to run into a girl we both know.  She doesn’t realize i know her through the information told to me by her sister in law.  Anyways it was obviously a meeting of some sort.  And it almost turned into a fight between us because i told her we were leaving when i realized what was going on.  I also told her that if she were to charge my uncle for the rape, it would drag not only his name through mud, and my aunts who is hurting enough, but my little brothers, my own, and my real brothers… and that after she did all that he would drag her reputation out which would end up backfiring.  She was solely focused on the damage it would do to my aunt.  Why my aunt, considering she did not hing i’m not sure, unless it is transference, but i know that it is too much of a fucking mess for me to deal with right now.  And she’s owed me 70 bucks for 6 weeks now, and still expects me to babysit for free when i have tests to study for and exams to write.  On top of that she lies.  That really gets me, the lies.  So, i guess, i am going to back off.  I have avoided phone calls this week, and will continue to do so until we have a face to face and i can tell her why i am backing away… once i figure out what to say.

 

i am weeding through fools to find the truth.

I am questioning honesty.

In the past few months i have spoken to a number of men from different walks in life some who i was genuinely interested in knowing better, some who i admittedly found very dull, some who i went so far as to meet, whether interested in more or not, some who i hide from, and some who i crave, and some that are a bit of all.

But i am discouraged, and shaken, by the amount of dishonesty out there.

Not all, no, i have spoken to some people men and women who amaze me with their genuineness.  It is unfortunate that i don’t always link up with those ones in all the other right ways.

But the lies.  Why?

I always try to relate things to simpler terms.  So let’s say someone is serious about becoming an artist.  Genuinely serious.  They figure out what kind of art they want to do, and if it is oil painting, they buy supplies, paints, brushes, canvases.  They may take a class or try on their own, seek advice or read books.  Then they paint, or attempt, and they continue to do so till they are satisfied with their art.  I don’t think they go into the artist shop, to get their supplies, and ask for pastel crayons, when they really want the oils.  Hell i dont’ think they’d ask for water paints.

If someone wants to get married, they will date, fall in love, ask, and marry the one they feel they are most compatible with.  Sometimes with a few glitches or mistakes along the way but usually they focus in on the one they hope to marry if they are serious about marriage.  Generally they dont’ tell the one they hope to marry they wish to marry her, while another wears the engagement ring and another is still wet with their cum.  Unless of course that’s a kink?

So considering those things i’m so fucking confused about the liars that exist on the bdsm personal sites.

Really. Really. Really disgusted by them.

Not just one either, but multiple, over and over, men who are ugly, fat, handsome, stacked, sadistic, simply dominant, intelligent and foolish.

Why the dishonesty? seriously, can’t they stand up and be what they are or is that such a terrifying thing for them that they must lie their way into getting what they want.

One, i spoke to before summer frequently.  He wanted to meet.  Said he wanted to be my friend while in the next sentance telling me, how much i needed to serve.  I of course agree fully.  When he told me of a camping trip he was going on, with a ‘friend’ being cautious not to list the sex of said friend, i bluntly informed him i had a man i saw for sex, a fwb.  He still kept the fact he was going with a woman quiet, like it was a dirty secret.  Makes me very sad for that girl, who probably adores him, and who he eventually mentioned had become his sub when i guessed it.  But, of course, he is still listed as single on fetlife.  In case something better comes up?

There were others in between, one the man who said he’d respect my desire not to be sexual on the first meeting, but told me he would finger me, just to see my reaction. When i respectfully declined and told him i didn’t want that because then i am ruled by the sexuality instead of the mentality, he told me i was stupid because fingering wasn’t sex.  Nice.

Then there is the most recent honesty challanged man who claimed he had no sub or slave, who in fact even pined over his ex.  Who went on and on about what he’d do to me and for me and what i was going to do for him as his, before we’d even met.  I try not to argue, i try to be quiet, and of course it turns me on so it’s easy to get swept up and to obey.  On meeting we had no chemistry which is for the best considering the thought of selling my house for a stranger, who had already decided prior to meeting i wasn’t good enough without DD tits, was terrifying me already.  Now, a week and one day later he changed his profile to reflect ownership over one girl, consideration over another, and the desire to find a third to clean his house.  The entire thing  has just left me disgusted.  Why?  Why not just be honest.

Then there is the one i have called, Master and meant it.  Who i would serve in an instant just because i’m that much of a fool and he makes me feel.  But who i have come to terms with is not so genuine and real, it is the idea of it.

The whole thing just has me baffled.

I know that there are girls out there who are whores that just LOVE to get used.  Others who like mind fucks.  Others who are married and just need to be beaten.  So seriously, what is with all the lies?

i dont’ pretend to be an angel.

i don’t pretend i am beautiful.

i have issues, i come with baggage.

i can be a bratty bitch.

i am sad sometimes.  i like to hurt.  i like to hurt for Him.

but i wish to serve, and i want the rest of my life to be owned.

i genuinely want to please, to serve, to obey and to be fully possessed.  And really, the mind fucks, the lies, they are not doing anything positive for me, nor do they get me off on some masochistic level.  i don’t want to deal with them.

They just make me confused.  A dom, should know what they want, and should state what they want, and should be sincere about getting what they want.  Right?

i crave honesty.

I realize the ones above, are total morons as far as being true Masters is concerned.  Potential possibly but true masters they are not.  One changed his mind in 4 quick sentances from ‘i think i should give up’ to ‘maybe i shoujld try alt.com’ to ‘maybe i will just do vanilla’ lol.  I was spinning trying to understand exactly what he was saying.
But that is it right.

it seems it is either about the sex

or it’s about the connection.

Damnit, i want both.

Maybe it is me.  i KNOW i think too much, analyze too much.  I know i want want want and crave crave crave.  Maybe in this i somehow draw in the ones who are confused, because my own signals are so hazardous.  Maybe i should take a protective thing just so they can find me a master instead. lol

But i really don’t feel it is wrong to want the words i believe, the truth they claim, to be real.  How can it be when it is often exactly what i want.  i am hopelessly hopeful and fall for it over and over.

i am weeding through fools to find the truth.

the Whore

***Disclaimer****

This is a fictional fantasy story.  None of the characters are representing real live people or events past, current or future.  If easily offended please click the handy back link at the top of your screen.   Fun to read, fun to write.

The first time he had her do it, she was not even sure what was going on.  It was almost like being in a trance, or in a theatre.  Everything ampliphied.  Only the item on the screen happened to be her, her real life not just some dramatic or cheesy comedic scene of someone else’s pretend life.

It made her instantly small.  The kind of small you never fully forget.  That feeling that you are not only physically small and beneath them in size but also small in your very core.  You not only know that they are the one who will feed or clothe you, but the are fully in charge.  And in being in charge you feel your heart shine because they are good at it, they are in control.  They know.  And they know you.  When their hand moves to you, moves over you, even if it’s just to go through your hair, settle on top your head or your shoulder, these things do not really matter.  Because they get you and they know you are small.  They are even a little amused by it, and sometimes will wink, or even, if the timing is right, smile.  It’s that feeling of small.  It’s knowing beyond a doubt they could tell you to do anything at that moment and even if you really really didn’t want to, you would do it.  When i feel that way, i can only sum it up in one word.  Daddy.

So the first time it happened to her, this girl in my dreams, who i sometimes wonder if i am, she felt that.  That smallness, and with that comes a little touch of fear.  Maybe guilty fear because you not only fear what is coming, you also are thrilled by it.

It’s a wonderful thing.  And it was to her, because she felt that hot rush of pleasure flutter through her from nipples, which reacted by hardening, to her belly, in shivers and into her sex, spreading hot wet warmth.  He ordered her to her knees.  As simple really as that is, that is all he had done.  She had gone, quietly, though she smiled, and blushed, and her body said so much.

On her knees he spoke quickly, directly, in his ‘to the point – I am in a rush’ style she sometimes loved and sometimes loathed, and at that moment felt a bit of both towards.  It did not give her time to think, because from the time he spoke it, to when it registered, she had only had time to blink and let it register somewhere in her mind, which was usually clouded over with need to touch him, when kneeling at his feet, before the next action.  And it was quick, and shocking and her body reacted with tears while her heart lurched and her eyes went wide, hand immeadiately lifting to touch the marked cheek.  Even as she moved this way she was rising, moving to obey without any further hesitation.

She stumbled from the room, feeling his eyes on her, now moving the way he’d trained her to, deliberately, softly.   The way she had always moved and never known, when relaxed enough.  In the next room she had only a momen to wipe the tears from her cheeks, before the hands reached and grabbed and her eyes were behind blindfolds, her body trembling, ropes locking her, people pushing her gruffly into fresh air and then into a car.  She panted, she feared.  Fuck, she must still obey, she must!

He had told her she would go into the next room, she would obey, and she would please or displease him.  She would even though her mind screamed at her to fight, her lips parted eagerly when she felt the cars floor beneath her knees, wrists held with ropes digging into her skin at the small of her back, a hard cock pressing against her lips, slapping her cheek, and forcing inside her mouth.  Hand at the back of her head thrust her forward, her teeth grazed and she inwardly flinched, desperate to please, to take the cock as deep as she could.  She would please.  Her pussy on fire she squirmed and panted and took as much as she could in and more till she wasn’t breathing and her jaw ached, hard hot cock filling her mouth.

The cock fucking her mouth errupted, hot cum oozing into her throat, she gagged, always finding swallowing such a personal thing, it was momentarily a reaction to not take the foreign sperm into her body, but she swallowed instead, forcing it down her throat, whimpering as more dribbled down her chin, she unable to prevent it was helpless as it fell lower to drizzle down the center of her chest.

Her hair was gripped as she cooed a “Thank you.” and she was dragged, half stumbling half pulled from the car and up a few sets of stairs into what she imagined, from the change in scent and warmth was another home.  It could not be the one she shared with Daddy, she felt carpet beneath her feet.  She was pushed down a hallway, fear skipping in her heart.  Who was there, who was around her, behind her, who owned the cock she still tasted, and where was her Daddy.  Was she safe? Did he care?

And then she was thrown down to soft carpeting, her shoulder painfully banging into what could only be the frame of a bed.  The door slammed shut.  She was crying, could taste the salt of her tears as they found her lips, still coated with saliva and drying cum.  Some of her hair had fallen loose and was now annoying her, brushing lightly at her cheeks.

She took a long slow trembling breath, and the door slowly opened.  Footsteps came in, the door closed, and the figure, which just smelt and felt masculine came to stand by her, a bare foot, large, rough, pressed into the side of her leg.  She was pulled up and pressed back onto the bed, onto her ass, where she remained, trembling, her chin lifted up to him.  Looking to him, even while blindfolded.  Ever fiber in her being knew that he was in control.

Gently, which made her skin crawl and her nipples tingle all at once, the blind fold was lifted.  He was handsome, which only made it worse.  Handsome with bright eyes, that had hers instantly lowering in submission.  His finger was beneath her chin but it now slid up and lightly traced over her lips, which easily parted.  Fingers pressed inside her mouth as he spoke.  He was going to fuck her.  She knew it.  She even wanted it.  She was being used, simply, like a whore, for whatever reason her Daddy had decided.

She parted her legs, the tiny skirt she wear rising up, opening, so that he could see the little silky panties she wore beneath.  His hand reached, cupping her mound, a finger pressing the silky panties between her own silky lips.  Wet.  She flushed red, knowing that she was so wet the panties were now soaked.  Knowing more so that he knew, even though he had known before, it was now evident by the wetness that seeped through, to heat his fingers.  The fingers in her mouth were replaced by the ones that tasted of her own arousal, and he pushed her back on the bed.

He didnt speak to her, not once.  He just fucked her, sliding her panties to the side and thrusting his cock into her, no preliminaries, nothing.  He fucked her hard and fast and came inside her, so that now her cunt and her mouth had been filled by not only cock, but cum.  She sobbed, the blindfold returned when he had finished, her own body not permitted release, juices dripped from her throbbing pussy down her inner thighs.

She was returned home, where in a daze she was thrown at her Daddy’s feet.  He had said nothing, and had kept her tied up.  Had in fact kept her blindfolded while fucking her ass, forcing her to admit she’d liked the other cocks, while slapping and smacking, pinching, twisting, biting her.  He had cum in her ass, and left her crying on the floor for a good hour after filling her final hole.  Then he had come to her, and removed the blindfold, had gently untied her bound wrists and clasped the leash around her neck.  She didn’t have a collar on, but this worked well enough.  He had led her to the bedroom, and there, folded her in arms and legs and when she’d finished crying he’d just traced fingers over her body, down her arm, and over a nipple, across her lips, until she smiled, and then laughed.

Such a rollercoaster of emotions he could give her.

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NoFeeling

i do not always enjoy feeling.

i feel and i think and i get so excited and thrilled and anticipitory and hopefull and i think i ‘know’.

And it’s all just a little game, at my expense, just to ’see’.

Sometimes i wish i could not feel.

Trust.
So fucking difficult when disappointment happens more then truth.

the burn

It marked, but just a little. It stings, I can feel the sting, throbbing, and pink and hot and soft. Knife laying discarded on my bed. I begged. Begged to be hurt, begged for release. Begged for what i have needed for so long, wanted for, longed and craved and hidden from.

Years back my ex told me i was not allowed to hurt myself anymore. No more cuts, no more burns, no markings. Really i burned more then cutting. He cut me. Anyways i have not since. Today while in my overwhelming dark place i felt as if the world would cave in on me. I wondered if the burning is sort of akin to the rule i had that i could not suntan naked in a tanning bed, so that my ass stayed pale and marked better.
Every time i strip to get in one of those beds i still feel a little jolt like ‘wait your not suposed to.. oh.. go ahead’ going on in my head.

But i obey. it is who i am. And the rule that i did not have the right to do anything to my body has stuck, possibly because… i feel such shame at the desires i have to be hurt, to feel that pain, and soooo do not want to crave it. But i do.

i begged it.
i didn’t think, i didn’t question.
i begged it.
Blurted out how much i needed craved and wanted it when i was told to.
He let me hurt myself. He hurt me. I can feel it, stinging, soft hot pink mark. Stinging and warmed. I like it even now. If i close my eyes i can feel it, a little spot from the hot knife on my inner thigh. I feel my cunt get wet again. He let me cum. He ordered me to cum, and he ordered me to press it to my skin.
He had me tell him what i was and what i am.
A cunt. A craving whore, pain slut bitch. A dirty pig.
i am what i am.

And i am calm now.
Kind of dizzy calm.
And i am marked, even if just a little, and it stngs even if just a little. Burns are so much better then cuts, the warmth lasting for hours afterwards.

Release.
Wonderful, hot, calming, cumming, fabulous feeling, living release.

i could use some bruises.

Fresh air = good.

I still am down but now i have gained perspective a bit.

I have ended (unofficially) things with my fwb. Not because he annoys me, but because of the reasons why he annoys me. Because i’ve never forgiven him, because he doesnt’ hurt me, because he is inconsistant, because he doesn’t follow through… and why should he, he is not a dom. i have sort of been a bitch, sort of led him on, just to hear him tell me he’s going to fuck me and feel used that way. Not the brightest thing i’ve ever done. Plus there was this morbid curiousity of wanting to just ’see’ if he’d changed or if he was still the lying loser he has always been in the past 15 years. Now if i could count the number of people who i’ve witnessed changing some major flaw in their character, i wouldn’t have to count very high. He said one thing and did another, for the 3rd week in a row. And for the 3rd time i realized i didn’t really care. Whether it was saying he would come visit and staying unexpectedly, or telling me he’d come for the night and showing up without even givin me some nooky… he’s still the same. And i dont’ care. I was more mad that i’d bought him a 2L of pepsi (aka tried to please since he complained non stop about the 7up last time) then i was that he didn’t fuck me and didn’t stay. In fact that was about the only thing that ticked me off. Cause wtf was i thinking even remotely trying to please him. So anyways, he flaked out on me on the help he was to give me for my school report but good thing is i got someone else to help and i’m close to being done everything for tomorrow. And realize that part of why i’ve been down is because of the fact things are now done with my fwb and although that may be a good thing it also means some serious sexual frustrations coming up until i become owned.

Men telling me one thing to get my hopes up and then flaking out has really got to end. I have been trying to figure out how to stop it from happening and i’m not really sure there is an answer. They lead and i follow, eyes open or shut, like a little licking puppy ready to be stepped on when i get too close or try and jump ahead, or simply look up expecting a pet and gettnig ignored. What i would seriously like to know is if it is me, if it is something i invite into my experience, or if it is just normal and human (man) nature to do so. Is it a dom thing? To say you’ll do this this and that and then not follow through? Or is it the dom’s i’m letting into my experience?

i am amazied how i would give up my all if asked and yet i’m terrified at the same time. I wonder, does a man truely exist who not only knows what he wants but continues to know it two minutes later, instead of going back n forth and round and round and never really finding what he needs cause what he wants is so confused.

Maybe that is me too. But i don’t have to have it completely nonpluxed right? If what i want is to be led, to be what he wants me to be, and to please?
bah.

So no more fwb.
was a fun few months of wild sex… though it seriously lacked in having no bruises.
Somewhere ‘he’ is out there.
Maybe he will visit soon.
i could use some bruises.