Thursday, February 25, 2010

Uxorial fashions? Not!

"The clothes that designers showed for fall during New York Fashion Week, which ended Thursday, invoked the classics but with interesting, updated ideas mixed in. Among the trends we think we'll see women wearing come September are these five."

This, by the Fashion Police in New York City. These fashions are befitting the slightly insane, rather than your wife. I think I'm thankful I can't afford to keep up with fashion!


By Booth Moore

um...ratty remnants sewn together is the new fashion, eh? Well, shooo...I can reproduce this crap from bits in the attic that are already moth-eaten...


by Alexander Wang

Double-lapels with a...kite-string ruffle? Combined with grey stirrup pants? Okay...


By Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen's line "the Row"

Seriously? Crotch-bows? I don't care if it IS silk, it look silly!



by Marc Jacobs

I don't even know what to say about this one...velvet + plaid + fur. Sure, wind nor rain could penetrate it...because I wouldn't DARE wear this outside!



By Michael Kors

If you would like to keep up with fashion but cannot afford to do so, go to your bathroom, flip the rug over, and wrap it around your torso. Secure with belt.

Anyone else afraid?

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Bragging about Beloved!

Yeah, you know it! *grins*

For months now, Beloved's been working his tail off for his company. Stepping up to a Director position, so far without getting a raise (it's been promised, but he hasn't seen it yet), taking on more management duties, working late and on weekends. The man has been giving 110%!

Yesterday, he was told he could move his cube...INTO THE CORNER OFFICE!!!!!


Wooooo-hooooo! *happy dance*

There's a window, which makes it colder, but we already have a couple of heaters stored in the attic, so no big deal there. And for Valentine's day, the kids and I gave him four Chinese watercolors that he now has wall space for.

I'm so very very proud of him!

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Sometimes, a girl needs to learn a little humility.

To this laudable goal, you decided to take me out. Of course, it wouldn't really work if I knew the plans you had in store. Instead, you simply invite me out for a movie date. You sweeten the deal by having already arranged childcare. You only ask that I wear something sexy.

Giggling at that, I go up to the bedroom and rummage through the closet while you gather the kids and the gear. I settle on my "nymph" outfit...a short, gauzy beige skirt and my green Ren Faire vest. I've added my deer-skin boots and white cloak since there's the outside to deal with. *sigh* The winter is wearing on me...

We're ready to go, and you have a funny smile on your lips. I frown, asking if I should change, and you kiss me, saying of course not. I look beautiful. I blush. We herd the kids to the car and get them dropped off.

Then, you pull out my collar. I swallow nervously, racing through the "rules" I'm supposed to observe while wearing it. Let you open the doors for me. Stand until invited to sit. Lower my eyes...? er...I think...unless you demand eye contact? crap. I fidget and frown. Not quite what I was wanting to do today...but... I take a deep breath and let it out. I smile, trying to learn complaisance.

I remember, last second, to wait until you open the car door for me. That earned me a grin and a "Good girl!" I smile back, blushing a tiny bit, and snuggle against you as I take your arm. We walk into the theater, you opening the doors, my following you. You buy tickets and Dots, popcorn, and Coke. We find seats in the middle of the empty theater and get settled.

Then you reach over and start caressing my thigh, pushing my skirt up a little higher. I giggle, blush, and glance around.

Nervous?

I wrinkle my nose. Sorta.

But there's no one here.

Yeah, but...

I jump was your fingers reach all the way to my panties. My hand lands on your wrist, then my eyes open wide at the stern look in yours. Please... it's more of a whimper than a real request.

Mine.

I'm flustered. I tear my eyes from yours, glancing around, then dropping my gaze. You continue to lightly stroke the cotton between my legs.

MINE.

It's a growl, a command. I bite my lip. I can feel the heat on my cheeks. yes... it's barely a whisper. I can feel tears welling up in my eyes, and I swallow hard, struggling. I spread my legs for you, hoping to demonstrate my compliance.

Someone rounds the corner of the stairs. I snap my thighs tightly closed, head jerking up, fear in my eyes. You lean close, breathing in my hair.

Open your legs.

No! No...please...no... The man is walking to a seat a few rows behind us. I twist my head, urgently, frantically begging you to take notice of the stranger now in the theater.

Yes, I see him. Open your legs. Now.

I stare at you, the tears slipping from my eyes. I hate you. I hate you! You wriggle your still-trapped fingers slightly.

Now, girl.

Anger and defiance, I grit my teeth. I can take anything you dish out, you bastard. I spread my thighs to the corners of my seat. You simply smile and settle back, caressing my crotch and looking at the screen as the lights dim.

As the previews play, I slowly lose my rigidity, unclench my jaw. It's dark, no one can see. I breath a sigh.

You up the stakes.

Lift your ass off the seat and slide your panties down.

I look at you in disbelief. You're teasing me, right?

Don't make me ask again, or it will be your bra.

I'm beginning to get an inkling that you are serious. I squirm and frown and beg, but in the end, I'm shifting and slipping the panties down. You reach behind me and pull my skirt up from under my ass, and I'm sitting directly on the seat. Please...
Beloved....please!

Your hand reaches between my knees and grabs the cotton panties, dragging them down my legs, down to the floor. Then you scoop them up to put in your pocket.

Keep your legs open.

I'm nearing panic, but I spread my legs. The movie is starting.

You seem engrossed in the movie, paying no attention to me at all. I, on the other hand, can't focus on anything but the prickly velvet of the seat on my exposed thighs. I'm both hot and freezing, and I'm shamed and angry.

It's maybe 30 minutes before you caress my hand gently. I stare straight ahead, feigning to ignore you. You smirk and lean over, grabbing my hair and kissing me. I fight you just a little...but I don't want to cause more of a scene. I just want to hide.

Now, you seem to forget that we are in the theater. You kiss me again, deeply, tightening your hold in my hair when I pull away, leaving me breathless. Your other hand is sliding up my thigh. I flinch away, but your fingers dig into my flesh. OUCH!

Then don't fight me.

It's the dark, deep, Dom voice. I shiver and surrender. Your fingers find me wet and soft, and you laugh quietly in the dark. You tease me mercilessly, until I'm tilting my hips for you, wanting more. Instead of gratifying me, you trace patterns on my face with my own juices.

You press my head back against the back of my seat, pull my knee to the corner of my seat. My skirt is almost completely tucked up at my waist. You lean over me, locking my eyes.

I'll be right back...Don't move.

My lips tremble, my eyes beg you to stay, but my head nods in agreement.

You stand up, and I close me eyes. I hear you scoot through the row of seats, listen to the movie, try desperately to will you back. It seems forever before I can hear you coming back through the row.

But you settle behind me, not next to me. I squeeze my eyes shut as one hand grabs my hair and the other grabs my right breast.

What a pretty little whore.

I jerk, but am pinned by my hair, the seat, the hand. It isn't you!

I scream. Get away from me! Help!

He laughs, and the hand that was on my breast is now covering my nose and mouth. I can't breath, and he leans close to my ear. Oh, now, that isn't very nice. Your Master told you not to move...didn't he? AND your Master gave me a nod when he left. Now, are you going to be nice, or is this going to get ugly?

My hands are grabbing his wrist, fighting for air. I'm scared...but the words slowly sink in... Master...gave a nod? My body slumps, defeated. Tears mix with the stickiness on my cheek.

There's a good whore.

He gives me air, and I sob as both hands reach around me, grabbing my breasts, squeezing them, tweaking the hard nipples. He kisses my cheek, tasting my cunt and my tears. A hand is between my thighs, delving into my open and wet pussy. I moan in spite of myself, already so hot for someone else.

Good girl.

I'm sobbing and moaning, melting in misery and desperate for more. He starts to tease my clit while fingers are stroking my insides. My body shudders, and the tears course down my cheeks. A thumb caresses my lips and I automatically open my mouth to suckle. I taste myself on him.

Oh yeah...suck it, whore.

I shiver and writhe against this stranger's hands. I can feel an orgasm building and I'm horrified, closing my mind against it. No...no no no no no no no.

Yes, you little slut...cum for me.


My lip quivers, my body arches. He pumps his fingers faster, deeper, driving me. A cry escapes as the climax is forced from me, soaking the seat and the fingers. He stays with me until I slump over. Then I'm offered three fingers to lick clean. I'm so distant...but I take them deep in my throat, sucking them fervently. Finally, he stands up. I hear the zipper on his pants.

Turn around, whore. Suck my cock.

I close my eyes, searching for...what? What does a whore hope for when she's told to suck off a stranger? A fast cummer? Tasteless spunk? Or does she remind herself of the paycheck? I don't know what she hopes for...but what I found was the echo in my head.

Your Master gave me a nod.

I find myself on my knees, on a wet theater seat, leaning over the back, smelling the muskiness of a man's excitement and tasting his slipperiness. My tongue traced the thick, sensitive vein down, spiralling around, until he was deep in my throat. I moaned, and he grabbed my hair, slamming deeper, fucking my mouth. I couldn't breath for the onslaught so I gagged. I tried to pleasure him, but he stole rather than received. Just when I thought I might dissolve completely, he pulled away, his cock spasming, his semen spraying my chin and chest. He groaned and then looked down at me.

Now THAT was hot. Tell your Master I said you were a filthy little whore for me.

He gets up and walks away. I don't look at him, shamed and exhausted. I curl up in my seat, pulling om cloak over me as the chill descends on me. My eyes are closed. The movie is still playing...I wonder vaguely where you are.

The light come up and the credits are rolling. Had I fallen asleep? I look around, and find you watching me from the aisle seat, three rows up. You stand up and come over to me, leaning down, and kissing me lightly on the forehead. A warm, wet napkin wipes my face and neck.

The confusion furrows my brow. Tears again, and I stammer. I'm a..I'm a f-f-filthy little whore....

You smile, pulling me into your arms. Oh, yes you are. Don't get me wrong, I think you are wonderful and beautiful girl, of whom I love very much. But you're also something dirty inside...and sometimes I need to remind you of that.

round and round and round we go...

I'm short on sleep. I've been going to bed a little late...maybe 11pm. Girl wakes up around 1-2am and I'll nurse her, but she has now taken to waking UP at about 4-4:30am, staying UP for about 2 hours, and then going back to sleep. Boy gets up at about 7am and inevitably wake Girl up as well as Beloved and me and the day begins.

For me...it's usually starting on the wrong foot.

Today, Beloved has been very *productive* which makes me feel slightly more incompetent, and the cousins are going to descend this afternoon. It all combines to make me one edgy pixie.

So then I feel guilty about feeling edgy or snapping or not being more useful. I wish to improve things; I get the crazy silly notion of buying something Beloved wants; I get bummed out by the prices of the things Beloved wants verse the state of our finances; I get more grumpy because I can't buy something nice for Beloved; I resent the lack of sleep which is making me grumpy...

round and round.

I know I can't BUY Beloved's happiness. I know he'd much rather my smile, my cheerful assistance. I am just not sure how to give him those.

The other day, Beloved didn't want to play because he wasn't sure he trusted himself. That's not good. He knows I'm short with the kids and over-tired. That's not good. We are both so very stressed out and very tired.

It's hard to complain when we are still managing to tread water...we're not sinking yet...and there's a speck on the horizon that *might* be a rescue boat...if only we can keep it up for a little longer...

Friday, February 19, 2010

I am only an egg.

Seriously.

Since 2001 when we met Kate, I have been told that I should read Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein.

A couple of months ago, Sir gave me a copy. I have been trying to read it. TRYING.

*sigh* It's been hard to follow since I only get to read a paragraph at a time. I've met Jubal Harshaw...Beloved says I have gotten through most of the political background but having gotten to the real reasons that Heinlein is adored by polyamorists everywhere. Problem is, I'm kinda stalled in my interest. I dunno. Maybe I am only an egg, but I just don't get the story...

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Feedback requested!

So I've been reading and reading and reading...in part to deny the incrouching deadline, in part because the stuff is interesting...but I finally put together an outline for the presentation I am giving at SJW. I would really appreciate some feedback on what I've got...

I need to submit this SOON...!

When Lifestyles Collide: living both poly and D/s lives

by pixie, 2010

Very few studies of alternative sexual expressions like bondage/discipline, dominance/submission and sadomasochism currently exist, despite the estimation that 23% of the population indulge in terms of fantasy, at least on occasion (Arndt et al, 1985) and 10 % of the population consider it a lifestyle(Masters et al. 1995).  Even fewer studies exist about variations in non-monogamous intimate relationships that are consensual and do not involve deception or “cheating” (labeled as “polyamorous relationships” or “swinging” among other relationship types).  The intersection of non-mongamy and Dominance/submission is complicated and interesting, and it is is what we will be discussing.


1.Why non-monogamy?
a) explore different interests
b) explore different experiences
c) NRE

2.Long-term vs. Short-term

3.What kind of role do YOU play?
a) switch
b) alpha
c) beta
d) sister/brother
e) vanilla

4.The Balancing Act
a) Consenting unequal power dynamics in the relationship - When you've got serious power exchange, many of the "normal" rules of polyamory don't apply. What do we do instead?
b) “Fairness” - when one partner is more 'taken' by a 'new' person and elects to show that new person more attention and support than their long term preexisting partner.

5.The S-Word
Even in SM and polyamory discussion groups I’ve noticed that when we start talking about actual fucking people will be quite shocked. How do you negotiate sex and service?

6.Questions/comments/discussion

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Kinky is NOT a Diagnosis

In the new proposals for the DSM-V, alternative sexual behavior has been depathologized. The American Psychiatric Association's Paraphilias Subworkgroup's DSM revisions acknowledge that you can be a fetishist, transvestite, sexual sadist or sexual masochist without having a mental disorder.

*wry smile* I don't know how kinky people will see this. I mean, it is a relief that it's not a mental disorder! But is this a step towards "normalizing" kink? *cocks eyebrow* Part of the fun of kink is that we are deviants and sickos...right?

Next thing you know, sodemy will be made legal!

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Quiet day...

Beloved made pancakes and scattered little hearts on the tray he brought up to the bedroom. I had found some Oriental "seasons" prints the the kids and I gave him. We dropped the kids off with Grandma and putz on our computers. We had a minor wrestling match that led to sex. We had lunch at Steak-n-Shake.

No plans. No big purchases. Just a quiet day. EXACTLY what we needed!

I hope your Valentine's Day was enjoyable!


Friday, February 12, 2010

Happy - definitions

I was chatting with someone the other day...here are some excepts of what was said.

I am feeling you are happy, but looking for maybe something that's not really all that, just something different....I think it comes from giving up what you had for what you have. What you have is such a blessing, {yet} you feel resentment. That is the thorn in your happiness....you lost the (RL name) and gained the pixie...I am only speculating, but they don't seem to be as one. Both a part is not the same as one...

This has been wandering around in my head the last couple of days...well, years...life, to be honest. *sigh*

What is the issue? What aren't I happy?

I went and looked up the definition on Merriam-Webster

Main Entry: hap·py
Pronunciation: \ˈha-pē\

1 : favored by luck or fortune : fortunate [a happy coincidence]
2 : notably fitting, effective, or well adapted : felicitous [a happy choice]
3 a : enjoying or characterized by well-being and contentment [a happy childhood]
b : expressing, reflecting, or suggestive of happiness [a happy ending]
c : glad, pleased [I'm happy to meet you]
d : having or marked by an atmosphere of good fellowship


I certainly feel that I'm favored by luck or fortune! I have an amazing husband, wonderful-if-willful kids, a decent house, good family and friends, and I am well-supported in life. I think I offer "good fellowship" most of the time.

So it's the other bits...I have never felt I really "fit" in or "characterized by well-being and contentment."

In my own head, there's the voice saying "that's bad...you shouldn't LIKE that...you didn't try hard enough...you could have done more...you're not perfect" It makes me a little sick to acknowledge how loud and convincing that voice is. I hate it, and I don't know how to silence it. I am torn up inside and it hurts.

I don't want to surrender to it...gods, that would be a dark day indeed!...but my struggle and fight leaks into my life. I lash out in frustration and anger. I'm sad and uncontent.

It isn't new. *wry smile* My father will cheerfully tell tales about my childhood tantrums, the holes I punched in the plaster walls. My mother placed me in counseling when I was in 4th grade because she worried about me. *shrug* I've always been this way.

If there was a simple answer...but if life were SIMPLE...right?

Thursday, February 11, 2010

funny, haha...er...yeah.

So, I took a BDSM Quiz that's been floating around.

hahahaha...I'm as vanilla as I am masochist, and I'm MORE vanilla than Dominant or sadistic. Being a service submissive, I guess it's a good thing to be more experimental than subbie, though...it makes it easier to serve your partner.



You Scored as Experimental

Experimentation is a great place to be. Open-mindedness when it comes to sexuality can open doors and allow you to discover things that you didn't think you would find engaging. Having such a curious attitude can help you learn more about your own sexual nature as well as the nature of others.

Experimental 96%
Submissive 82%
Switch 68%
Bondage 64%
Exhibitionist / Voyeur 61%
Degradation Lover 50%
Vanilla 43%
Masochist 43%
Dominant 32%
Sadist 29%

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

How to answer...

In 2007, I contacted someone to do some online training with. I found it incredibly frustrating because it as so limited. I thrive on being of service, but I couldn't wrap my head around what kinds of service I could possibly give this man, especially when he was sick and in and out of the hospital. Everything fell apart in early 2008 when I miscarried...emotionally I just couldn't handle it anymore. I apologized profusely, he understood, and we "parted" ways.

I'd been thinking about him and last October, I contacted him. I told him about having Girl, about my pushme-pullme submission. He wrote back:

As for the submission part, just take it as it comes. You can only be you. And when you are comfortable, you know it. There were times with me that I thought you were very happy. But when you were directed, you seemed to close down. So I do believe you have submissive qualities, but you are not a true sub.

*wry smile* I haven't been able to respond because his words stung so much.

Oh, I know...the only one who really matters is Beloved, and to hell with what anyone else thinks, blah blah blah.

But it DOES matter...because this is someone I respect, and I crave acceptance from those I respect. *sigh* And besides, Beloved has his own questions about my submission, often because I fight so hard when directed. So, I get thrown back into the stormy dark confusion about my identity, my role, my place in this world.

Perhaps if I could craft a response to the jibe, I'd be one step closer to serenity.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Let her run...

Sarah Palin got caught using a crib "sheet" after blasting Obama for using a teleprompter. People are up in arms about whether she's an idiot or if a few scribbled notes compares to a teleprompter and either bemoaning or hurrah-ing her consideration of a 2012 election run.

*shrug* Let her run. Is this not the country that says any native born citizen can be President? What's the harm? Seriously...she lacks the backbone, the subterfuge, and the class to get past the primaries (maybe I have some faith in the GOP after all. :-P) , but it would be entertaining to watch.

Friday, February 5, 2010

A note of adoration...followed by a tiny rant...

Beloved is the most special guy I've ever been involved with. Seriously. Yesterday, I was not coping well at all. I'd actually written, but not published, a blog entry about my frustrations with him. Instead, I e-mailed Beloved the entry directly, after warning him that I had a venting rant coming.

You know what he did?

First, he told me that while he was aware it had been a difficult week, he hadn't realized how I was feeling....that he understood where I was coming from....came home at a normal time AND brought dinner....helped get the kids down, the place picked up....and THEN set up the massage table and treated me like a queen and put me to bed for a full night's sleep.

Only then did he say that he had to finish some work and disappeared downstairs until midnight.

I'm so grateful to him for taking the time to help me, to care for me. I know that right now, work is being particularly brutal, and he still came to my rescue.

Beloved, I adore you and thank you for everything, but especially for your love!




**********************************************************
Okay, so now for my tiny rant.

Someone contacted me through one of the kink sites because "it sounds like you are very active in the community....Any recommendations on how to safely, descretly get involved with the bdsm community?"

I pop to the poster's profile, see immediate resouces that would be local, and send the information within 30 minutes.

And...nothing.

Am I asking too much for an acknowledgement of the service? A simple "thanks"? Or even a "hey, that's not quite what I'm looking for?" *sigh* It's not the first time...it won't be the last. It's just a minor disappointment that I needed to express somewhere.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

*happy dance*

I found Beloved's shoes for more than half-off the original price. Tra-la-la-la-la! Sometimes it pays to be a stubborn brat about stuff.



*wry smile* cheap thrills in a service submissive's life