June 2008 Archives

This is going to be a whinge probably, rather than a post - sorry about that. For too long I have tried to hide alot of what I feel and think from this blog, not sure why. But I don't like it. I'm not here for anyone else's amusement afterall... I'm here because I can't afford a good therapist , heh.

So.

I've been lurking on Informed Consent this week, as I usually do, and more and more I find myself recoiling from what I'm reading - about nettles, about ownership, about enforced bedtimes, punishments... the list goes on and on. But it was only a couple of months ago that I was lusting after control and rape and fuck knows what else... I feel confused and unsure of myself again, and I don't like it. I think I shall have to stay away from there, before I upset myself any more than I have already.

It's silly really; the logical part of my brain (yes, I do have one!) knows that submission is different for every little slut out there. I know that just because some like needles and cutting, I don't have to as well... I know that I'm not more or less of a "true submissive" just because I squick at blood, or the word 'owned'. I am what I am, and I like what I like, and that should - in theory - be that. But then I read things like 'a submissive's duty is to please their Dom/me, with no regard for their own pleasure', and I wonder if I'm in the wrong place entirely.

I'm not, of course. But I do wonder, nonetheless. I need to be taken in hand. And soon, before I lose the plot altogether.

Life is quiet at the moment. Probably because we've decided to stop drinking Stella and beating up wives ;) It's called progress in this house. Unfortunately though, that's about the only progress we've made so far. I suppose baby steps is better than standing still, but meh. I feel like I'm constantly waiting for something that never arrives, and I can't even really articulate what that 'something' is, so if it turned up, would I even notice?

I did notice the boyfriend get down on one knee the other night, but I don't think that was the 'something'. It might've been, at some other time, but friday night wasn't that time.

"Please don't ask me anything" I say, because I don't want to have to say 'no'.

He asks me anyway, so I have to say no... a wise decision, or something I'll live to regret? At the moment I think it was wise; marriage isn't a solution, or something I take lightly. I promised myself that I'd only ever get married once, and I continued to promise myself that for about a decade after I stupidly married the biggest cunt ever. Then I decided not to be so hard on myself; it was the biggest mistake I ever made, but I was brainwashed and beaten and I needed to forgive myself, and allow myself another chance.

And there was a chance the other night. He even had a ring ( a cock ring). But the timing was all wrong, and the motives were tainted by this sense that getting married would fix things, and that isn't what I want. Well, I want to fix things - obviously, but not like that. I would prefer to fix things in a more carnal way. Unfortunately, I can't do that either at the moment, as I decided to cartwheel around the garden yesterday and injure myself. I can't even bloody walk, let alone fuck. Gymnastics never used to hurt this much, that's for sure.

Being immobilised like this isn't good though - it just gives me more time to think, and I'm dangerous when I do that. Must. Not. think. About. Sex. Or weddings.

If you read my last post, you might be thinking how very level-headed I am. Well, I'm afraid that if you are thinking that, I have duped you. Indeed, I duped myself for about half an hour, as well. But I want to be level-headed, and that was a good effort, even if I do say so myself.

The truth of the matter is that my mind is constantly wandering back to the whole kink thing, and it drives me (and the boyfriend) fucking mental. I think about it, talk about it, scream, shout, and cry about it, and shitting fucking hell - why can't I just be normal?!? Or at least sane.

What do normal/sane people think about? The bills? Work? TV? Christmas? I have no fucking idea. I think about rope and cock and sex. I think about what lengths to cut my rope into, I think up ways to turn my bedroom into a den of debauchery, and I wonder if I attached a few lengths of rope to the feet of my king-size divan, would that facilitate me getting tied star-shaped to the bed? I've never been tied star-shaped to a bed, before. I berate myself for recently being 'unable' to do anal sex... the 'ouch' factor has returned, and it ain't good. What happened? I was such a good little anal slut, too. Damn. Safewords are also playing on my mind, having never had or used one before - obviously because I'm so hardcore, haha, and talking of hardcore... we need some good porn. Not Hogtied porn; there's far too much tit-torture and suspensions for me to enjoy that. And perhaps it's time I got some new (and more kinky) photos done?

And there is one thought that runs through my mind that is totally alien to me. The words 'you'd make a great domme'. Haha! I laughed. But it keeps coming back to me, and I find myself wondering if I could actually do it, if I might even like it on some level? Wouldn't that be peculiar.

Perhaps I should stop thinking, eh?