Already?

My oldest baby turns ten today...

According to my chiropractor, crab carbonara  and 4 layer chocolate mousse cake accompanied by homemade strawberry ice cream, is not the common fare for a ten year old's birthday.

Who knew?

He's just too aware that it's the one day a year he can ask for any meal and I'll make it lol.

I had better get in gear...Did I mention that the cake is going to be covered with chocolate coconut ganache?

Me and the Lies I tell Myself

I have a pretty good grasp on me, and for the most part, I'm comfortable with who I am.

Yes, the catch here would be "For the most part."

I don't "Do" lies of omission. Just doesn't work--even if I could pull it off, I would be completely miserable until he dragged whatever it was out of me.

Lies to myself that I firmly believe however? Different story altogether. I am actually quite good at them.

Uh huh, I'm still going on about the whore thing.

The thing about lying to oneself is that, if you do it for long enough, what you say almost becomes true because you have spent so much time telling yourself that it is.

More coffee anyone? Great, bring me another cup too please.

One of the problems is, that it becomes a bit like the butterfly effect--one little thing causes changes to other little things, and before you know it, something big that you hadn't anticipated changes as well.

Then one day you wake up to the uncomfortable realization that someone else knows a part of you far better than you do, because they chose not to believe the lies that you told yourself.

Where on earth am I going with this? Well I do have a direction, (or two) in mind, but it might not land on earth.

I have always had terrible self control. I mean, really bad. But I place a great value on Alpha's self control, so I spent a long time thinking that I had to cling to my own crappy self control. Kind of along the lines of not expecting something from someone else that I'm not willing to do myself I guess.
The thing is, by spending so much time trying to exert self control, I wasn't leaving room for his control.

Soo...What?

Oh yea, the lies I tell myself.

He knows the sexual part of me far better than I know it myself.
He knows that I'm a hopeless flirt, that I have a severe weakness for men with a Dominant bent,  that I have great morals which are not complimented by my shoddy self control, and that I'm kinky enough to make the majority of people cringe (including myself).

He also knows how very much I don't like to admit those truths to myself, let alone him. But if I haven't admitted them to myself, then I'm not hiding them from him right?
Logic might not be my strong point, but I'm pretty good at twisted logic!

Now back to that pesky butterfly effect thing...

By spending so much time repressing traits related to my sexuality, I did a damn good job repressing my sexuality altogether. I would like to say that it was completely inadvertent, but I'm trying to work on that whole "lying to myself" thing lol.

I think though, that his control of me far exceeds the control I had/have of myself, and that he knows my sexuality so much better than I do because he is more accepting of it than I am.

Perhaps being a whore isn't the issue at all--but that what matters is whose whore, and the control of the person she belongs to...

Hehe

Ooh, somebody made a funny about me!

Lol.

Energy, Realities, and Associated Ramblings

A comment that Michael left on my last post got me to thinking. I'm pretty sure that I have wandered quite far from the original intent of the comment, but inspiration can be funny like that.

I have said before that energy is everything, and everything is ultimately about energy. As much as my views seem to change and collide over time, I still believe this one to be true.

I think that, for the most part, we all tend to walk on a fine line between El Mundo Bueno and El Mundo Malo (The Good Reality and The Bad Reality). That fine line avoids extremes of good and bad events, and provides life with a sense of balance.

Sometimes we fall into a Good Reality, where the extremes are good. Pain is good, pleasure is good, tears are a release--not a torment. Outcomes are as we wish them to be.
Other times, we fall into a Bad Reality, and the extremes are bad. Anything that can go wrong will, pain is bad, pleasure is warped, tears are no more than an expression of misery.
And we adapt to viewing events with the notion that they will inevitably become as terrible as they possibly can.

I believe that the difference between these realities is about the energy in them.

For me, S/m isn't really about pain, sex isn't just about pleasure, and D/s isn't all about physical control.
These things are about energy exchanges and the realities that we create within those exchanges.

I have been injured, I have been raped, I have lacked control in situations wherein I desperately needed to have control. Those were not good experiences.
But Alpha can hurt me, he can force me, he can take away all semblances of my control.
And those are some of the most amazing experiences of my life.
The simplest difference of those very complex subjects? The first set of events is a Bad Reality. The second set of events is a Good Reality.

Disassociation is about an extreme place on the fine line between realities. It's a place of non-feeling, non-energy...Nothingness of mind.
It is not a place that I am fond of, but it is one that I used to be very good at getting to. Sometimes I still fight not to go there--old habits are hard to break. And sometimes it is only Alpha's extreme dislike of that place which keeps me out of it.

The more time you spend together, and the more you explore, the stronger resonances with each other become.
A look creates a physical reaction, a sound creates a feeling, an expressed thought creates a mental state.

As different as they can be, all of those experiences have one thing in common--energy.

As much as I want him to fuck my body, I need him to fuck my mind. I need the connection that energy exchange provides.
Energy makes the mindfuck possible (we'll ignore for the moment, that people often seem to find me by searching for the term "Mindfuck" and usually what I meant was not at all what they were looking for).

Really, it's all about a looping exchange of energy--power exchange is energy exchange, the give and take of pain is energy exchange, surrender and control are about energy exchange.

It's about the beasts within, which ones we choose to feed, and how we choose to sate their hunger.

And we try to do it all in a way that will allow us to spend more time in El Mundo Bueno.

Fantasy Sadists

I have lots of random thoughts fighting to get out first. From  stupid people completely lacking in common sense, to (figuratively) dripping sex, to working the phrase "Deviously dangerous" into a sentence about BDSM (so what if the inspiration for that was a troll on another person's blog, and it wasn't meant as a compliment? It's gonna be a great sentence one of these days lol).

I'll try to only go in one direction at once with my twenty two cents.

Since we had the house to ourselves for a little while, we took full advantage. For Alpha "Taking full advantage" often means doing things that elicit sounds of pain from me.

I informed him that I am not a masochist after all, and that "The fantasy of belonging to a sadist was so much more fun than the reality."
Much to my surprise, he looked at me thoughtfully and said, "You should do a post about it. I think that many people have the fantasy, but feel differently about the reality."

So...

Alpha indulges his sadistic tendencies in little ways quite often, but what he really loves, what really gets him off, is the sound of my pain.
Given that our kids are with us 24/7, it's not a sound that he gets to hear very often.

According to him, "There's nothing sexier than the sound of a woman in pain."
The sound that comes from the pleasure-pain combination does something for him that just...

The fantasy of a sadist is hot.
It's sexy, and dark, and mysterious, and scary, and exciting, and fulfilling, and dangerous, and well--it's hot right?

The reality of a sadist is, well, it's all of those things. But it is also very different. It can be unpleasant, unwanted, inescapable, and...Just downright painful.

The reality is that he will hurt you until his desire to do so is sated, until his need is fed, until he is done.
Not until you no longer want it, feel that you have no need for it, or until you think that you are done.

In fact, in my experience, Alpha will not quit until long after I am sure that I can take no more.
It seems that before then, his experience remains incomplete. And to get what he needs, he has to take me beyond what I need.

Sometimes it scares the shit out of me. And the fear gets me off. Then getting off feeds the pain. And my pain gets him off.

The fantasy sadist will give you what you want, and just as much as you think you need.
The reality of a sadist is that he will take what he wants until he has gotten what he needs.

A Whore is a Whore, But Whose Whore?

A while back I wrote a post called "The Monogamous Whore", and there was a bit of a debate about definitions, and I don't think that I have really written anything about the term since then.

Why bring the term up now? Well, you might be sorry I asked, because this is likely to be one of those rambling posts that gets wrapped up while Alpha is in the shower lol.

We ended up surrounded by of a gaggle of women last night (yes I said gaggle, and yes I hates them). On the bright side, Alpha was the only person who spilled beer on me, which is a first (though I'm not 100% sure that the drop which went down the back of my pants was accidental).

Anyways...It was rather clear that he could have had his pick to take home if he had wanted. Ironically, this led to a rather blatant discussion about my whorishness that ended with me having to strip in the bathroom in order to take him my underwear.

It all started in the parking lot, when he leaned back and drawled, "You're a fucking whore and you know it."

Umm, well...Maybe?

He snorted derisively, "If you didn't have me in your life, when you were younger you would have just gotten fucked and used up. At this point in your life, you would see what you wanted and go fuck it. And there would be a lot of them."

That led to the slightly uncomfortable realization that he was right.

You can tell if someone wants to flirt when you make eye contact with them, and it's not much of a stretch to discern from there if you can fuck them.
It's an assessment that I have gotten better at making as time has gone by.

One uncomfortable realization at a time is never quite enough for him though...
"You love sex." He stated matter-of-factly. "You just hate to admit it. Just like you love it when I stick up knife up your ass--just because you don't like to admit it doesn't mean it isn't true."

Ahem, well...

See, as much as I seem to have this internal barrier against admitting that I like sex, I do like it. I like it a lot.  And as much as he is the one and only for me, without him and his control? I would  probably go after everything I saw that I wanted.
Kind of like the way one sizes up a steak before digging in, (I do like mine bleeding and ready to jump off the plate) I would have a terrible predatory streak. Which is ironic given that it would all be with the ultimate goal of having those predatory tendencies turned on me.

I was shifting around uncomfortably trying to come to terms with my thoughts, and said, "I'm not sure how I feel about that. I have to think about it." He shrugged, (what's with all that damn nonchalance?) and said, "Why do you have to know how you feel about it?"
Umm..."I don't know why, I just do!"

He leaned in, "You're a fucking whore, and I love it. Because that means I could pick one of those women and take her home and make you watch me fuck her. Because you really will fuck whoever I tell you to. And as much as it scares the shit out of you, you love it too. You are My whore."

Is he suddenly the king of uncomfortable truths or what?

I think that what is most uncomfortable about admitting that I am a huge whore at heart, is admitting it to him. Oh sure, he knows it, but if I actually admit it myself, then I have to admit that I could see myself acting on it. And maybe he wouldn't like that so much (oh hush, logic has no place here, after all, we are talking about how I feel about something lol).

It is interesting though, because we had talked about secrets before all this, and how even if I could do something like sleep with someone else without telling him, I would live a totally miserable existence. But it wouldn't be that difficult to sleep with someone else if he told me to do it.

I am terribly fuzzy, and I'm not even going to read this post to see if it makes sense.
I think that we need more than one or two date nights a year. My perspective on life is incredibly improved this morning...

Dear Universe, Pretty Please?

February did not begin quite as auspiciously as I had hoped that it would...

I haven't been sleeping. You know those nights when you dream so much that you feel like you didn't rest, but you don't even remember the damn dreams? Yea, like that...

Work is a bitch, and not having enough work is also a bitch lol.

But...
Tomorrow, for the first time in approximately nine months, my mom will watch both of the kids for the night.

And this time, we aren't going to behave as if we have a 5:00 PM curfew!

We are going to go out, and eat, and maybe dally in some deserted parking lots, and go dance to some wonderful music. Well, I'll dance, and I'll try to make it interesting enough for him to want to dance with me lol.
I'm thinking that when we get home, I'll be asleep on my feet, but he'll do unspeakably delicious and rather loud things to me, and then I'll sleep like a rock.

Oh please universe, I've been good!
Please don't make me reschedule my twice a year night for the third time in three weeks.