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sadie hawkins submission...?
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May 7, 2008 4:26 pm
502 Views
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 as I wander around my brain trying to fix up a deadline that lagged when I was out, and I look at the pile of porn that I STILL have not written about yet and look in slight dismay at the pile of sex toys that I have to ... um ... "Experience" ... and write about them.
How does one go about this.
"Um...Papi. Would you mind putting on this collar and nipple clamp set so that I can fully evaluate its utility, sturdiness, functionality and appearance?"
*sigh*
Come to think of it... it is somewhat bemusing to be the "submissive' and the one with more extensive experience and chomp at the bit but then realize that these tings can't be rushed or pushed.
I just haven't heard of a submissive "asking out" a dominant in terms of kicking up the d/s.
Well, not that often, anyway.
Ya'll see this?
Is it foolhardy?
More to the point..am I going to be able to walk after I plug in that Eroscillator tonight and start my evaluation???
YEAH, I got my "Review Copy" of an Eroscillator.
YEAH!
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My OTHER addiction. (Or FUCKING FUCK FUCKITY FUCKED)
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May 7, 2008 12:47 am
549 Views
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My phone has mysteriously died. It only comes on through the Splash, Windows then T-Mobile screen and freezes.
NO it is not backed up because my latest PC does not have fucking Outlook and would not sync with Vista. And NO it is not on my SIM because the SIM has severely limited functionality for saving "Contacts"
NO I never got the chance to do it at work either.
I may have just lost all of my data for the past year and a half and all of my phone numbers from like ever.
I can't even check my messages because I don't have a telephone.
*cries*
Please to forgive those who do not understand...ALL of the day-to-day notes of my past year and a half are in that phone.
And, shit. It is my techbaby.
******** LATER ********
I am going to try to go to bed. On a tiny note of "OK,OK" I dug out an old shitty free phone and at least can make phone calls and check my messages. My phone list is not entirely lost as the SIM saves one layer of information. On the "Feh" side, the one message I did get was that I have no carpool in to work tomorrow. 
Also today Daddy's bike either spontaneously fell or was knocked over today. This is A Bad Thing. Bits of the motorcycle were kinda fucked up too. Damn.
I guess my "Helpful Person" karma I piled up today, helpingmy friend, will be cashed in at a later date because, as lame as it might be to those not in love with their phones, the loss or potential loss of my cell phone is one of the VERY few "things" that has the capacity to viscerally upset me.
FUCK.
And I'll never sleep with this &^%$# wind!
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Madonna vs Billy Bob Thortnon vs TUMBLEWEEDS!
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May 1, 2008 1:06 pm
504 Views
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 So, Madonna gets hazed on gossip rags for dry-humping Timberlake during a show.
And Billy Bob Thorton's wee son, Willy Bob (WTF!?!? WHO thought THAT was a great baby name, 14+ years ago?!?!) is ratted out by the jealous boyfriend of the 22 year old he was fucking. That garners him high fives and "pimp" status from the general media.
I was never a fan of Madonna's popular music.
But why tsk-tsk her when older men regularly dump their long-term wives for younger bits?
Furthermore, I am not a fan of (non-con) sexual abuse.
But then we are fed images and news of tween gals sexualized or sexually active.....is it not strange that a tweener boy fucking is somewhat amusing while a tweener girl fucking is a horrifying crime?
Sorry, I was chomping at the bit by the time I was ten and getting well and royally shagged by the time i was fifteen-and-a-half.
Why the...what....
What am I trying to say here??
Yargh.
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IMsL tuuuumbleweeeeded!
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May 1, 2008 12:18 am
547 Views
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 Holy POO and I am suddenly booked for the first night!!
anyone gonna be in town for International Ms. Leather?
I gotta be there.
For Work.
OK, this is pretty much a gift from Gods.
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&^%$# FEELINGS!!! But betime stories are good.
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May 1, 2008 12:15 am
571 Views
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 Feelings are not all bad. What I find super difficult is when you have a situation in which you have NO idea what to do or say and you just gotta jump out with your heart in your mouth and your Ovaries Of Steel and pray you don't wind up emotional roadkill.
I realized this evening that I really need boundaries and rules and definition and structure in my relationship. But like a horse asking for the yoke, it feel so strange.
Mostly I am afraid of hearing "Yes" and I am terrified of hearing "no" but well, I said what I needed to say.
And Someone has a few things to think about.
Most importantly, the best book ever arrived today and he read it to me,because I needed a story.
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%$#@ NOSEBLEED?!?!?
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Apr 30, 2008 11:27 am
614 Views
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I never NEVER get nosebleeds.
I think I bled from my nose once when someone hit me accidentally in the schoolyard in elementary school, and that was only a few drops.
Why, while I am at my desk preparing for my on-line chat interview with a Pony-play couple in the UK and getting the final "Go" to attend IMsL this weekend do I start dripping copious amounts of blood all over?!?!
Man this week is so insane it has, actually, jumped the shark into hilarity.
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*&%$ uterus. $#!^&* ovaries. (whine, whine, bitch and moan. nothing to seee here....)
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Apr 30, 2008 9:11 am
632 Views
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Savage cramps on Saturday.
Seriously moody want-to-kill vibes on Sunday.
Mean posts form a handful of cranky-ass perverts at work on Monday morning. People sometimes forger that there are actual humans on the other end of their virtual flamethrowers. 
Spent Monday evening with a new-baby. I was privileged to see my buddy Tims first time feeding their lil'-squid We watched TV and ordered Chinese. It was, in fact, a nice evening.
Of course, by 9:30, I was on the dark-ass street, breaking down in tears because I had to wait for a cab and then wait again and than call another company and then wait again
.and then the cab was filled with smoke.
Hormones hormones hormones blah blah blah I bore myself with the whining.
That night as I stood in front of their house and they went to bed to try to desperately catch a couple of hours of sleep before the super adorable baby woke up for yet another breast mauling.
It was chilly, and clear, and I was feeling disconnected from my life, observing it, as it were, from somewhere else.
I slipped on the stairs (AGAIN! Those stairs fucking hate me)and caught myself, but not before I hit my elbow on something and funny boned myself.
That didn't quite make me cry.
The freaky-ass problems with the cab did not make me cry.
What made me finally trip out was looking down the hill and remembering how, back in March of 2007, I lay shaking on the very couch on which I'd eaten dinner and watched the baby. I lay on that couch, the night before I was gonna go into rehab, and I thought about slipping out of their house, down the hill, and having a few stiff shots because then I would be sure of when my last drink was.
And last night on the top of that hill stone-motherfucking-cold sober and chilled and feeling disconnected I looked down and wondered what it would be like to be a normal person thinking "It would be nice to soothe those frayed nerves with a beer." and knowing that I can't. As an old alcoholic once said to me, "We've had our lifetime RDA of booze. Our allotment has been drunk. We're done."
Bubbles, who is pretty frail and quiet those days gave me a once-around-the-ankles and asked if this is how it is going to be forever.
"I hope so, man. Pray to everyone that it IS this way, and that we can feel that pain, because the alternative is that black wall. You remember that from before?"
She does.
I called John
I am not sure how he puts up with me whining and I never feel like he is anything by genuinely caring and actually understands, and is never patronizing. Even when he gently reminds me that I am hormonal, and that I should just go to bed, that I am doing OK. I was all Fuck you, with your external genitalia, buddy! And went to bed.
And what do you know...I now have yet another stupid girl-trippy thing in that I just discovered [tangentially and (mostly) accidentally] that I may now officially state that every last person with whom I have been in love or dated is &^%$#@* married.
How the FUCK did I think that I, with my cleverness and wit, could somehow blood fucking avoid the ravages of biology, physiology and lizard-brain programming?!?
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Dead nigger - 0. Cops - 3
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Apr 25, 2008 9:11 am
693 Views
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 I am barely fucking awake at 6:67 AM and I know I have mentioned I fucking hate fucking mornings especially when one of the first lucid thoughts I have is "what the fuck has to happen before cops are held accountable for their fucking murderous behaviours and how the FUCK did those three NYC cops get ACQUITTED ON ALL COUNTS for shooting an unarmed fucking man on the eve of his fucking wedding and not just a few times but over four dozen times.
Holy fuck.
I doubt this will be a quiet day on the streets of The City.
Is it wrong for me to hope a few cop cars get flipped and torched?
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thank god for face-fucking.
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Apr 24, 2008 4:40 pm
677 Views
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Yesterday was a bit of a rush from work to home to a quick effort tidy-up-the-homestead to Daddy Gooberhead coming by (mostly) unexpectedly before the 12-step meeting for which I am Secretary to going to the meeting to the emotional roller-coaster that those meetings can be to figuring out a way to gracefully / graciously disengage from the post-meeting fellowship thing to figuring out what was for dinner to discovering that my DVD player is on the blink to realizing I am super embarrassed by my taste in pornography.
That probably sounds dumb coming from someone who teaches kink-lifestyle classes and for god's sake just got a job working in the adult-industry, but there it is.
I realized that so much of what I have is so ... um....specific to a specific niche market that I don't really wanna reveal that.
I also realized that I am very crap at accepting affection. Even though I am constantly craving affection and attention I am shy when I receive it.
By the time it was late n the evening I really just wanted to curl up under the blanket but I also really wanted to do whatever the Daddy wanted, and that was pretty clearly going to involve me being naked. It is a delicate thing to explain that, even though I am not necessarily myself feeling like the Hot Sex Kitteh, if what the Pappa wants if to fuck his girl, then by god all he really needs to do is take that mouth or pussy and do what he wants with it.
Is that wrong? It just turns me on to be used when I don't necessarily want it....
Strange rift / split in my psyche between my feeling submissive in the moment and yet hoping to be pushed further.
Last night there was a decidedly rougher level of play and ramped-up pain and as I was sucking with all my might and my nipples were twisted achingly and then slapped again and again and again and again and I wondered "OK, this really hurts and I wonder if he'll stop before it is too much for me" and part of me hoped he did and part hoped he did not.
I was extremely proud to have discovered a cool way to make him make really cool sounds when he is fucking his dick down my throat and I am holding my breath trying my best to keep in in my mouth and what else is true is that I am in a very clear and peaceful frame of mind when half smothered by cock.
*sigh*
The pain of being held down face down in the down pillow fucked mercilessly ... better or worse than the pain of a stubbled chin and bristly lip pressed scraping abrading the wet slick swollen flesh of my cunt as I squeal in an unmodulated gracelessness back because I am coming so hard that it is like being slammed against a wall...
or is it only me who continues to orgasm the slightest friction on my pussy or pressure from his hand sending me down the slide or up the ladder to come yet again. Sometimes it takes a quarter of an hour for me to stop that see-saw of pleasure so intense it kind of hurts.
I didn't get a bedtime story last night. That, BTW, was the present I bought for the Daddy. Two collections of poetry by Bukowski.
Because my inner child loves to be read Bukowski after being fucked mercilessly and before falling to sleep.
One book is for his house, one for mine. That way, bedtimes we'll be sure to be ready.
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