No more guilt

I received a few comments on yesterday's post and was about to answer them, but thought I had enough to say to warrant another post as an answer.

I grew up in a very straight-laced Catholic household and went to Catholic school and church every Sunday. Religion was force-fed to me seven days a week, 365 days a year. Since I am (and probably always have been though I didn't know quite how to express it) a believer that religion is an opiate of the masses, I was understandably chagrined by this. I stopped going to church right after my 18th birthday. This was (is) a huge source of contention between my mother and I. I'd always played the good little girl but I hated every minute of the hypocritical lecturing that goes on. I would look around at the people in church and watch most of them casually commit sins every day, then go to confessional to rid themselves of the guilt. Even as a child I knew there was something wrong about the whole process.

My strict religious upbringing produced a timid woman. To say that premarital sex was taboo is like saying a landfill smells a little funny. I felt hopelessly guilty for being attracted to men (not that it stopped me). My mother reinforced this guilt and kept me under her thumb. Our "birds and bees" lecture was extremely clinical and without emotion. I can remember being embarrassed by my breasts, which seemed to develop faster than the other girls'. When I did "become a woman", I was not allowed to use tampons. Much later when I asked why they were forbidden, my father became suspicious and came to me later asking if I had had sex. He was sweet and gentle and very accepting. He did not betray my trust and told me that it didn't make me a bad person or dirty. I will always remember that and respect him for it. But my mother's influence was solid and my sexual education was awful. I can't remember a truly good experience and I rarely orgasmed. I was married at age 19 and the old standard of "obey your husband" rang in my ears. I was dedicated to that premise and he took advantage. In my mother's defense, she didn't understand what marriage could be like - my father is a wonderful man. It never occurred to her that a man could be such an ass. I was separated at age 21 and divorced by age 23.

When I was 26, I went back to college. The most personally beneficial class I took was Human Sexuality. That's where I finally learned that not everyone lives by a lopsided moral code. Sex is not dirty or wrong, it's an expression between two people. ANY two people. Who am I to tell you what is right and wrong? Yes, my judgement may be tainted by my ethnocentric views, culture and personal upbringing, but I can choose not to judge you. Just because I don't like or understand something doesn't mean it's wrong. My entire university experience led me to this understanding, the sex class just relaxed my views on sex itself. So though I lost my virginity when I was 18, I learned how to enjoy my experiences eight years later. I credit that very talented professor with opening my eyes and allowing me to experience life.

Now we may all be getting a little more accepting of sex in the world around us, but I'm not fooled. A man who has slept with 50 women is a stud, a woman with the same history is a slut. I have learned that it is necessary to keep my mouth shut about who I have been with. I am very particular about my partners. It's not my job to sleep with anyone. If it does not please me, I'm not going to do it to please anyone else. A bad lover never gets to come back. And frankly, I see nothing wrong with keeping a regular lover. I find that very long periods of no sex (I went two years without sex in college) make me so crazy I am liable to do something I may not have normally done.

And so, this very long journey has brought me here. I have shed the prejudicial teachings of my past and have learned that there are all types of people in the world. I have grown a thick skin and have learned to disregard the labels and judgements of others. Within reason. I do what I have to do to get by in the civilized world, but my house in MINE. You do not get to tell me what is acceptable or "right" here. Whatever I choose to do (without being illegal, of course) with a consenting partner is my own decision. (I do, however, respect the bonds of matrimony - married men are definitely off limits!) And you don't get to tell me what to think. I may not find some things a turn-on myself, but I fully support other's rights to do them if they so choose. Frankly, I'm pretty damn happy with me. I can hold my head high - I have nothing to apologize for.

Finally, I can understand completely why society views the BDSM world as unseemly. We all, at some point in our lives, have been taught to vilify that which we do not understand and I am no exception. I was horrified by some of the aspects of this lifestyle when I first encountered it. The difference here is that I was drawn to it and took the time to learn about it. Anyone who is truly involved in this lifestyle understands what love, trust and acceptance can be found in a D/s relationship. I can't make everyone understand, and I am painfully aware that I am really preaching to the choir here. Most that find their way here are kindred spirits. So a cheerful "good morning!" to you all. Thank you for being here and for leaving me snippets of your advice!

I am, and always will be, a teacher...but most importantly, I am always a student.

Whore?

I heard from Porter today. It was just a "hello" because he saw me online. I guess he still has me on his IM friends list. Since I don't have him on the list, I never really looked for him. And I didn't add him again this time either. I was polite, but I think he's getting the picture. I'm not going to satisfy his curiosity about the lifestyle whenever it's convenient for him. I don't like posers.

I got a nice long hard look at The Doorman yesterday. He was beautiful as ever and the quintessential gentleman. There is still tension between us (the very good kind), but it's not something I will pursue. I found out he is being transferred. It will be to a place where I am unlikely to run into him often, but I will know where to find him. It's a good place for him though. He will do well.

Yesterday we were watching the original CSI on TV. It was the episode where a professional Domme's employee is murdered. One of my coworkers walked in and said: "
Oh, I've seen this one. She's a whore." I was stunned. I mean, I shouldn't be, but.... This is what people really do think. It amazes me what you can tell and show the public and how much of it they truly pay attention to. I thought the woman portrayed a professional Domme in a very dignified way. The character was strong and confident, intelligent and thoughtful. It's just so sad that the casual observer would immediately classify this woman as a whore.

I'm still recovering from a week of very little rest. It would be nice to have someone here skilled in massage and pedicures. And saratoga's mention of pussyworship has not gone unnoticed either.... That is something I am in need of!

Memorials

Today I met a man who had a chest full of medals, sleeves lined with aging gold stripes and a demeanor that told me he was comfortable with a life commanding others. His face lined with age and, by his own admission, his memory fading. He payed me one of the most undeserved compliments today by thanking me for what I do professionally. My eyes stung with tears. A man, with a purple heart quite prominently displayed on his chest is thanking me for doing my job. I couldn't even speak. His scars were earned in Vietnam. How do you thank a man for serving, and then thank him for the hell he lives every day in memory of that service?

One morning a few years ago I was getting ready to go to breakfast when I kept hearing this name on the news. This familiar name of a man; an F-18 pilot lost in the Indian Ocean - proably dead. When I came back into the room, they had a picture of him up. He was the ex-boyfriend of a dear friend of mine. They had parted because he was to go to school elsewhere for a year. She still very much loved him. A few days later I found a picture of the two of them together. It broke her heart.

I've stood in Arlington Cemetary and watched the burial of the broken pieces of a friend's brother who died in a aircraft crash in Iraq fighting in the war. I've worked with men who have been sent there and died; I've worked with men recently who will be going there soon. Freedom is not free. We pay for our selfish lifestyles with the blood of our children, siblings, spouses and lovers.

These men and women protect us. Support them. Thank them.

Nostalgia

I have an innate love for old hollywood and their flair for movie making. Sometimes I wonder if imagination has died and been replaced with CGI graphics. Such a loss... This little quiz makes me want to hibernate and watch old movies all day. I wish I could. I turned out to be Bette Davis, by the way.

I was up quite late last night. It's the first time in a long time I can remember going to bed and sleeping for about two hours, then not being able to sleep any longer. I surfed the net for a bit and then went back to try to sleep more. I managed to get a few winks in between being disturbed by the noisy "neighbors". I will definitely need to take a few day's break. I go back tomorrow night, but should get a break later in the week. I've decided to donate blood as well. It's something I do when I can, but I'll need the rest after that.

Things are quiet. Newcomer was supposed to leave for the weekend, but has changed his plans. No matter, I decided to work and he's busy unpacking his belongings that just arrived from overseas. I know it must be a relief for him to now be surrounded by his own things. I look forward to finally seeing his place soon.

Whenever I seem to float away from the BDSM lifestyle, something always seems to peak my interest again. Sometimes it's the nostalgic musings of someone's memories of a partner, sometimes its imagining a particular person bent over my favorite stool, ass high in the air... I wish it were easy to start such a relationship, to just instinctively know what a chosen person needs, how far to go, what to say. I haven't perfected my approach as of yet. Some people expect you to only be "in character" when they have decided to play. That seems too forced - things should happen more naturally than that. Patience. It takes a long time to know someone so well that you instinctively react to them and can communicate the most subtle of your thoughts between you. It doesn't happen overnight. I'm almost bowled over by some of the women I have seen in the more "amateur" sites. Very demanding, not at all particular. Devotion is not automatic - a Domina must earn that too. And just because you're willing to grovel at my feet does not mean you automatically get a spot in my heart. You have to bring more to the table than that. There is nothing so attractive to me than a strong man. One worthy of taming. (It seems I am quite demanding...)

It's hot - over 90 degrees right now and I'm feeling a bit sluggish. I have turned on the AC for the first time. It has a very cucooning effect - having all of the windows closed and the cool, noisy air blowing. Makes me wish I had a cool, dark dungeon in which to leave a toy dangling from a ring in the wall. I am feeling quite sadistic today. Not sexual, not seeking to fulfill some carnal feeling, but wishing to leave a mark on a fresh backside. A blindfold, ear plugs, hands bound above his head, legs spread wide and shackled so they cannot be moved. I don't want him to hear me coming, hear the swish of the crop, anticipate the strike. I just want to hear him catch his breath every time the crop falls. I want to leave him there for a while, maybe watch him struggle when he thinks I've left the room. Watch him defile himself. And just when he thinks he is alone.... a fresh set of marks on his thighs and ass. I may be in the mood for introducing a large plug, or even a strap-on. I am fond of making my subs aware of what it's like for a woman to suck cock and be fucked. Their perspective does change so much. I think every man should have to experience it. And I do love a virgin.... I'm not harsh, but I don't let them out of it.

For right now, I will have to just imagine. I think Laertes will be the object of my dreams tonight...

Just a few thoughts

The bad news: By Monday I will have worked 78 hours this week. The good news: That means almost $900 in overtime. It's just criminal. I hope this trend continues.

I'm hoping that Monday I will be seeing The Doorman. Unfortunately, his live-in girlfriend is sure to be there as well. She's a mousy little thing but I have good reason to believe she guards her man like a starving dog would guard its food. The image of bared teeth and raised hackles being completely intentional, by the way.

I find myself lacking in the desire to seduce or be seduced at the moment. I'm not really sure what the reason is for my waning libido. Maybe fatigue, lack of appropriate stimulation, or boredom? Usually I amuse myself with the elements of seduction, fully aware when someone is trying to seduce me or focusing on a particular mark. For those I am not interested in, I feign ignorance when they come after me. I am, however, hopeful at the prospect of seeing Laertes tomorrow. It has been quite a while since I have felt a palpable heat between myself and another, and he provided a small amount last time I saw him. One of my Achilles Heels has always been a strong man standing behind me, wrapping his arms around me. Laertes did this Monday night and I quickly moved away from him, recognizing the effect it had on me. It would not do to allow him to see that. *sigh* I wonder if he is as naive as Mistress M thinks he is. One day I should have an answer to that question.

Yesterday saratoga posted this entry in his blog about the Humbler and a lovely picture accompanies it. It's been only a week and a half since I tanned a man's hide, and it reminded me how very much I need to do it again soon. Miss D has been in touch and apparently her husband has been quite bad. He went out of town and attended a strip club where he received a lap dance. Both actions were not approved by his Mistress. I suggested making him sleep on the floor. I just sent her a picture of a humbler - maybe she will acquire one for him. Or better yet, make one of canes - that seems so much more effective.

Ah. Maybe my libido is not so dormant after all....

Laertes surfaces

My mind has been a little preoccupied with work lately. Not because I'm stressed. I am trying to maximize my training and work opportunities. I had decided to get a part-time job, but I won't really need to if I expand my knowledge. Ah, what a wonderful life. I'm sorry it took me so long to find it.

Porter has discovered that I have removed him from my friends list. The following conversation took place:

porter: no longer friends?
fleur: After our last conversation I got the feeling you were pretty much done with this
porter: i just mentioned that i don't have allot of time for it at the moment. not that i didn't want to talk to you or be your friend
fleur: You cancelled our last appointment and I don't hear from you unless I contact you.
porter: sorry. my schedule changed at work and i've been working out allot.
fleur: No need to apologize. My thinking is that if you can't make a little time for something then maybe you don't want it.
porter: ok.

This conversation occurred friday and that's the last I heard from him. He only seems to contact me when he has some particular need. "Friends"? I hardly think so...

However, speaking of friends.... Newcomer came and spent the day with me on Sunday. Despite my full weekend, I had managed to get almost all of my chores done before he arrived, so we had a nice day. We started with breakfast and came back for some play time. He has acquired some new toys since we last met. Ankle, hand and thumb cuffs, a hood, a blindfold, and a "humbler". I enjoyed the toy tour, but we only managed to use the blindfold. It was very comfortable and extremely effective.

Newcomer is fond of anal sex. Usually I have to be in a particular mood for it, but he has a tendency to not ask. Last time he tried to use a cock ring with the anal - it made him far too big to be comfortable. He pinned my hands between his chest and my back, so I left him with some scars on his chest from me clawing him as he tore into me. He's not allowed to use the ring anymore. When he finally left around 7:30, I was ready for a long sleep. I succumbed almost instantly!

And finally, Nightengale. He contacted me this morning with some not so subtle hints that he wanted to deliver a spanking to me this morning. I declined. I wasn't in the mood, and not even close to being in a submissive head-space at all. My mind was still immersed in my morning work routine and some conflict resolution there. I hadn't been home for more than an hour yet. Aside from my mood, our contact has been spotty at best and my interest in a Dom has waned quite drastically. I pretty much let him know that he would have to work a little to get my interest back.

And now for boys in the real world. An interesting prospect has popped back up. He first noticed me at our christmas party last year. He swore he'd never met me before - he said he would have remembered because I'm so hot. (Oh. My. God. Does this really work when you're trying to pick up a woman? I'm sure it does, but only if the woman is keen on being picked up.) I explained to this young buck that I look decidedly different at work and many don't recognize me outside of that. It took a man I worked with on a regular basis 20 minutes to figure out who I was. I dismissed it as a sign of his liberal use of alcohol, but apparently I look dramatically different. Ah, well. I don't go to work to be pretty. Anyway, I completely dismissed this young thing's advances due to my situation with my former master and hadn't seen him in a while. Lately I've been seeing him at work often. I think I'll call him Laertes.

Laertes spends a lot of time on his physique and it shows. He has a reputation of dating only the most beautiful of women. Arm trophies. Lately I've heard that he is extremely shy and very quiet. He has been defended by others who say that although he comes off as aloof, it is only his shy nature. I think many are put off by his reputation - including me. Why, pray tell would he be interested in me? Hmmm. Last night he commented that I could do anything to him that I wanted to. I told him to be careful, he had no idea what he was asking. He said that "people talk" and that he has heard about me. I could not get him to elaborate, but he told me to not worry. I keep my two worlds fairly separated, so I was slightly alarmed by the comment. My professional life does not need to be inundated with stories of my personal life. It solidifies my reasoning that I should not date anyone I work with.

In any case, Laertes is intriguing.... My gut reaction is to play with this poor boy's mind a little, probe it to see what makes him tick. I find that I am growing into the type of woman that is far more cautious when it comes to relationships - more relaxed. I will not force anything. Let him come. Although, with his shy nature, I wonder if he will. His parting words to me were of the nature of "I will have to live with my fantasies". I replied, "Well, if that's the way you want to keep it, it's all you my dear."

I will amuse myself with this little game. For now.

Housekeeping

Well, Porter has been evicted from my IM list as well as from my list of friends on the website. I'm not angry with him, it's not that I find him distasteful, it's just a matter of practicality. I had a very brief conversation with him the other day and it was very bland. We obviously don't mesh well, and I'm not prepared to be someone's wet nurse. So long and good luck to him.

Nightengale has resurfaced. I was beginning to believe that his excuses of "so busy" were just the big brush-off and told him so. He assures me that this is not so. I have been promised punishment for my assumptions, but I won't hang my hat on that either. I suspect that the next few months are very busy for me. Anyone who wants to see me will probably have to make an appointment.

On another note, those of you who have read my other blog - the one written while I was a submissive - may remember The Doorman. For those of you who don't, let me recap:

The Doorman is one of the most beautiful men I've ever seen. I've known him for a few years, but thought he was just a little too "sweet" for me. He is about 6', dark hair and eyes and always starched and pressed. He looks good no matter what. He's always had a way of looking at me that made me very much aware that I would not be in charge. I was always the first to look away. Our recognition of attraction for one another came while I was very much with my former master. As a matter of fact, he seemed jealous of The Doorman - apparently I was unaware of how I could go on about him. Of course, nothing came of it and we rarely talk now.

I was surprised to find that The Doorman was attending the same funeral service that I was this week. I spent most of the day with him, including the long trip there and back. We were not alone, so we didn't talk about anything substantial. There was one moment where he held my gaze and I felt that familiar pull to him. Of course I still have to shut all of that off and bury it deep. Things would never work, but it's nice to dream... It was a very pleasant day, my mind wandering at every opportunity.

I mentioned to Newcomer that I'd spent the day with The Doorman and haven't heard from him since either. I'm not overly concerned, but it seems odd that he would have had a problem with the idea. It must be a coincidence.

I'm very tired now, so I'll go get a little rest. Adieu...

Odds and ends

This morning this gorgeous sight greeted me:

I've been babying this Clematis for three years now and it looks more and more beautiful every year. I added another one to the deck this year, but it will be some time before it blooms like this.

So far I have heard nothing from Porter since friday. I have noticed that he seems to have given out some advice on a certain alternative lifestyle website. Interesting that he should think he's qualified to do that....

Nightengale has all but disappeared. Very disappointing. He was one of the few men who could stand toe to toe with me and I would be the one to back down.

I was about to write about a very rude young woman who answered one of my e-mails, but she's gotten enough head time. Let's just say that karma is a bitch. Be careful, little girl.

I am attending a double funeral today. It's going to be a long day...

From Apprentice to Journeyman

Today was an absolutely gorgeous day. It was filled with sunshine and cool breezes, a fine accompaniment for my solitude.

I am most often a stream-of-consciousness type of person when I talk and write. My mind wanders and can visit so many topics that it would befuddle anyone else's sensibilities. How, pray tell, can you start with a thought and end 180 degrees on the other side of it? Six degrees of separation? For me, it's more like 30 degrees of separation. Today my mind focused primarily on service, devotion and craft. I hope that I can boil it down to a somewhat understandable post!

My brother is a carpenter. A true artist in the craft. He spends long hours on the phone to me describing his mastery of taking a straight, flat board and making it curve. Our mother used to say that a true sign of quality is the craftsmanship of a thing's "underside" - the part that no one may see. If there is quality there, you have made a good investment. He may not admit it, but he took that lesson to heart. You can see it in his work. I have often thought that I would appreciate his handmade bookshelves to anything I could buy at the local box store. He chooses the wood, the best grains, the prettiest boards. He makes sure every measurement is perfect and every shelf level. How can one watch him work and not want to take care of his product with as much love and pride as he put into building it?

A carpenter's craft is a strange analogy to be sure, for a Dominant/submissive lifestyle, no? But why should I not look at this fragile, tentative bond between two people and look on it as a craft? Something to be cultivated and practiced? When I first started looking into this lifestyle, I felt like I was beginning a journey into a dark underworld. My first relationship in this life ended badly, making me feel like I was unworthy of the devotion of my partner. I soon realized that I have never been farther from the truth.

Serving a Master/Mistress can be art. There is such subtle beauty in every act if we notice it. Picture, for instance, handing someone a cup of coffee. It's can be a very common and unremarkable act. But after studying the movements of a Geisha pouring tea and her simple act of gracefully kneeling, I learned to combine those two movements. Not bending over like an old farmer, but sliding the right foot backward while bending the left knee, keeping the back straight and coming straight down to both knees as to not spill the hot liquid. A twist of the wrist, holding the hand so that the movement looks effortless, even seductive. It takes practice. That simple movement communicates a great deal of devotion. The time it takes to master the movements is given in service to the Dominant. The journey here is beautiful even if it may be misunderstood. It was my wish that in accompanying my Master anywhere would evoke feelings of jealousy in any man that saw the two of us together.

As a Mistress, I believe that it is my job to devote just as much time to mastering the craft of dominance. Am I worthy of such a devoted submissive if I do not do my part? I can see so many parallels to the "outside" world. Many think that the person in charge can rest and enjoy the fruits of everyone else's labor. I have never felt that way; not personally, not professionally as a supervisor. When one ascends to that level, their responsibility is compounded. You are now responsible for the well-being of others. Being a Mistress should be no different.

Your job, your life, ANYTHING you set your mind to should be done with every bit of your effort. If it's worth your time and worth your effort, should you not give it your all? Perfect your craft, no matter how trivial anyone else thinks it is. And who are you to declare something is beneath you? I have always believed that I cannot lead if I have not first followed. I should look to every source for advice and learn from their experiences. In this way I can become the Journeyman Mistress.

I have many of you to thank for my continuing education. Your lives, laid bare in cyberspace, have given me a great deal of insight into your worlds. Each different, each beautiful in it's own way. I am in awe of some of you. You have taught me to consider whatever a partner brings to the table, opening my mind to whatever foreign proclivity they bring with them. Thank you for that.

A nice weekend

Newcomer arrived at about 10:30am yesterday. We spent the day and night together just enjoying ourselves. He left me a bit tired, and very much worn out. I can't deny that he does have a magic touch. He left around noon and I picked up my day where I left when he arrived.

I'm almost always a bit blue when left alone. This time, however, I found that I was quite happy being left to my own devices. I spent the rest of my afternoon shopping for items I will need to make homemade jam, pickles and ice cream. Please, don't read into the combination of the last two... Pure coincidence and I never eat the two together. I rather enjoy cooking and nothing pleases me more than to open my cupboards and find homemade versions of my favorite foods. I am, after all, a domestic goddess! If you picture Martha Stewart in combat boots, you'd be close. Without the millions of dollars, of course. If I had her estate and money, what kind of a dungeon could I build.....*snap* back to reality!

I have found that I adore my alone-time, but hate an empty bed. Newcomer is a wonderful sleep mate. He doesn't snore, he "sighs". When his burning metabolism is making him warm to the touch he stays out in the cool air for a while, eventually slipping under the covers and snuggling next to my warm body to compensate. I found myself smiling in the darkness of 2am. And, since he woke me with the coolness of his skin, I attended to his ever-present hard on. I find that I am quite comfortable with him and we are definitely compatible physically. Whatever may happen in the future, he is someone with whom I will stay friends.

Miss D sent me a message yesterday that she had a good time with me Friday night. Apparently our session inspired some hot sex with her sub husband after I left. Saratoga was kind enough to hit the nail right on the head for me when he posted in my comments that the wife essentially is "complaining about something she seems to not only tolerate, but evidently enjoy". I could not have said it better. I will let my feelings on that situation unfold on their own. I doubt I will actively pursue anything, but I may entertain the idea of playing every once in a while. Every experience teaches us something; nothing is wasted. If you keep to that belief, you are never disappointed.

And so the weekend ends. I have a few more days off, so I am essentially still on a weekend. It's not as interesting without someone to share it with. I may very well get to making my pickles and jam. The ice cream is already underway. The next couple of days should find me contemplating finding what I need in my life. I must devote some energy to finding a partner as well as prepare to make some very large investments. It promises to be an interesting year...

A Night to Remember

Last night was the first time I have been involved with more than one person in a sexual nature in years. It was far less uncomfortable for me than I imagined it would be. It was my first encounter with Miss D and her submissive husband. I imagine that this FemDom couple is quite unique for this lifestyle. I try very hard not to judge, but this couple may not be for me.

After a fairly long drive, I arrived at Miss D's house for the purpose of helping her train her husband. I changed into stilletto boots (as pictured), a long black skirt, and a very low cut black sweater. I wore nothing else. When the husband arrived home from work, Miss D immediately made him undress and put him in his wrist restraints, collar and leash. He is already restrained in a chastity device - a CB2000 I believe. He was told to lie prone on the floor with his legs spread. I gave him a couple of taps on the balls with the crop, just to let him know I was there. He has a very sarcastic demeanor and a quick, wise mouth. Although I value these things in friends, I don't particularly think they fit within this setting. I gave him quite a few lashes with the crop, leaving angry red welts on both cheeks.

Miss D and I sat and chatted, with far too much imput from her sub. She made him get on all fours and introduced him to one of my toys, a 7" long, 2" diameter dildo that we informed him was going in his ass. Miss D made him suck on it for a bit while I donned rubber gloves and tested his ass for insertion. Feeling him grow very nervous, I slid a penis-shaped plug into his ass instead. I told him it would stay there for the duration of my stay. Miss D teased him by allowing his face within inches of her pussy, knowing he would not be able to touch. There was another good hour of flogging and torture with the plug in.

Miss D and I were served fruit, cheese and crackers by her boy on his knees. Again, there was far too much input from him while we were chatting. He never stopped letting us know what "he" wanted. The pure cheek of it offended me. Miss D made him get his favorite porno magazine and open it to his favorite layout. She released him from his device, and while I flogged him with the crop, she made him masturbate and cum on the magazine. She then closed the magazine and let the pages seal together with his cum. Nice touch. However, the entire time he was masturbating, he was making all sorts of requests of me. "Can I see your legs?", "Will I ever get to see your pussy?", "How about just up to the thigh?". It is abundantly clear that this bottom is not really a bottom. Miss D does enjoy topping him, but he seems to almost script the scenes for her. It works for them, but it's not at all what I picture a true submissive relationship. Again, I don't judge. They are very happy with their relationship. But when I sub says that he doesn't want to continue if he is never presented with his "carrot", I'm not sure I want to be involved. Either that, or he is gagged whenever I am present.

As I thought, Porter contacted me last night to see if I was home yet. He may have cold feet where I am concerned, but he still has that need to explore the BDSM experience vicariously through me. I'm sure I will hear from him today.

I was expecting Newcomer this morning. His plan was to come by and play for a bit and then the two of us would go shopping for more "toys". As of this writing he isn't here yet. If he waits much longer I'm going to have to leave him and go on my own. I haven't done the grocery shopping yet and I'm starving!

War Rages

I'm beginning to notice the effect work has on me. For almost the whole next day I live in a world I can't quite describe. I will remember the faces in agony, panic, and pain pleading with me to make it better. The very weight of the responsibility is mind-numbing and when someone else takes over, I often breathe an audible sigh of relief. It's someone else's turn. I love my work, but I can't believe that they trust me with this. It took me a long while, but I have found my place. I understand that I must be very careful. Sometimes I feel like an emotionless observer of the human condition. Of course, that's what I need to be and what is expected of me. Otherwise, I'd need to be committed.

So it's no wonder to me that I choose to live this lifestyle outside of work. I find though that a battle of my "selves" rages in my heart. Part of me wants a nice, normal, "vanilla" relationship full of hearts and roses, part of me wants a slave to care for and discipline, and part of me wants a Master to use me and care for me. There's only one thing these three women want in common: love. I adore the feeling of the crop in my hand and the way a slave jumps when it strikes. I love having that vulnerable ass propped in the air, knowing what I can do, but also knowing that the poor sub is trusting me to use good judgement. There's also a part of me that absolutely adored the discipline and pain of being a slave myself. It's clear that I am looking for something permanent. Someone who will share this with me, regardless of what roles we choose to live in. And there you have it. But...I have to admit - the Domme in me is winning by a mile!

So where, you may ask, does this epiphany come from? I was the lone female at work yesterday and one of the men commented that all of the women that he knows are looking for the "perfect man". It occurred to me that I am not looking for the "perfect" man, but a man that is perfect for me. And there is a very distinct difference there.

An update on Porter: The boy sent a message that his schedule had changed and that he would not be able to make this morning's meeting. I am having a very hard time believing him. I believe the boy has cold feet. We will see.

I have an appointment tomorrow evening to have my first session with a FemDom couple. The plan is to have me waiting with her when he comes home from work. I would love to see him bound immediately upon his arrival, but I will see what she has in mind. Updates to come later this weekend.

Porter returns

Last night I had a conversation with Porter. I knew he could not deny his urges and would not stay away for long. It appears that he has far more problems accepting this lifestyle than I first thought. He is consumed with denial and self-loathing for wanting this. *sigh* I feel for him. I have agreed to meet with him, but I will be keeping a distance. There will be no more "vanilla" time, only Domme and submissive. I have decided he will not have the option of sex with me. Ever. I have also presented him with the following rules:

1. You will be naked in my presence unless otherwise directed.
2. You will not look me in the eye.
3. You will always be on your knees in my presence.
4. You will not speak unless spoken to.
5. During discipline, you will have a safe word of your choosing.
6. During punishment, you do not have a safe word.

Of course these are just a beginning. I will be meeting with him on thursday morning. Since he is already familiar with me, he knows he is expected to enter my home, remove his clothing, come upstairs and kneel on a cushion in his designated place. He will stay there until I come get him. I haven't decided what I plan on doing, but I'll have at least two hours with him.

I have been in touch with the FemDom couple. I speak or e-mail her every day it seems. She gave her sub permission to have one hour of unsupervised time on the internet last night. We chatted for a bit. He knows that he is in deep trouble now. I have told him that if he asks her one more time when I am coming to meet him, I will not come. I told him that it was time he showed her proper respect and understood that he is not in a position to make demands of her. He wanted me to tell him what I plan on doing while I'm there, will he be able to touch me...etc. I have no intention of letting him touch me at all. We'll see how it goes. If it goes well, I plan to bring Porter with me on a subsequent trip.

I need some downtime

(Let me apologize in advance for the vagueness of some of the information in the following post. I find that I need to keep some information about myself private and you may not always understand where I'm going with some things unless you know me personally.)

It's been a very hard week. I recently found out that someone I respected a great deal, a person who comforted me when I needed it and gave very sage advice, has succumbed to cancer. I will miss him dearly.

I also found out yesterday that a cowoker has lost a SECOND brother in Iraq. His younger brother was killed last year, and yesterday he was notified that his older brother had also been killed. There is no consoling him. We cannot find the words. I can tell you that if they hold any services in the area, I will be sure to be there representing our organization to full effect. For those of you who know what I do for a living, you will understand what I mean. This young man and his brothers have overcome an ubringing as a inner city youths to become talented and quite educated sons of our fair city. We owe it to him and his family to show the full support of our brotherhood. There should be no question.

And with that, I have to say goodnight. For you it may be a good morning, for me it is melancholy. I need to spend some quiet time today grieving for those I knew, those I know only by association, and those who will end their lives today despite my best efforts to change that outcome last night. Don't worry, I don't carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, but I still need to maintain my humanity lest I lose myself completely.

Maybe if you grovel at my feet...

This morning's run was greeted with a beautiful pink sunrise as I listened to The Yoshida Brothers. A perfect pairing of sunrise and music - perfect timing on my part too.

Porter contacted me last night. I was really very surprised. He wanted to know if I was still angry with him. I explained that I was never angry, but that he should have handled things differently. Sometimes our upbringing doesn't prepare us for the naked honesty required for this kind of relationship. And sometimes that requirement of honesty is as humiliating as any spanking could be. Porter apologized again and again. He apparently needs some time to sort out his feelings in the area and asked if he could contact me again.

I've pondered the consequences of letting Porter come back. I told him IF I were still available, and IF I were to let him come back, it would be because he groveled sufficiently at my feet. There will be no vanilla contact between us, no deviation from our roles. He will never see me naked and will never have the priviledge of fucking me. I have also told him that I may never allow him to cum in my presence again. IF I let him come to me, the first time, after he grovels and apologizes profusely, he will be punished severely. He will also spend all of his time on his knees, or bent over before me to receive the crop or paddle. Nipple screws and boot licking will be added to his reperatoire. That's all conditional, of course. It depends on how I feel should he contact me again. Right now he is not privy to my comings and goings and I know that's driving him insane.

Newcomer was suppposed to come visit me this evening. I think we will postpone that visit until sunday morning. I get off of work at 7am and will go home and shower. With any luck, he will be there waiting to take the stress of the day from me. He may have found a sub of his own, but she lives a fair distance from him. He started controlling her orgasms this week and she should be coming to visit soon. We have already discussed me visiting them to watch him handle her. Of course everyone has to feel comfortable around each other, but she is open to the possibility. I very much look forward to that. Not because I have some perverse sense (well, I do...), but because I want to witness how a Dominant handles a submissive. I've never been a witness to that and I think it will give me some perspective. I have long wanted to observe how this dynamic works for other people. Witness complete and utter trust between the two. I can't wait. I'd contemplated going to a club or party, but I'd much rather start with people I know. The time of meeting my married couple friends is drawing near, but I'm not really sure how that's going to work out. He tops her from the bottom alot - not something I would tolerate. Time will tell.

Well, I must begin my day. Ah, the mundane workings of the home. I must prepare myself for the next couple of days. Sometimes I get tired of being the organized Type A I am.