Isn’t she pwecious? I just want to kiss its little fluffy face! Happy Friday everyone.
I got these from my dad. He and I have been trying to rebuild our relationship these past two or three years. I’ve had too many birthdays without him, so it was nice to spend most of my BDay weekend with him. 😀
I love wine. Need I say more?
I hope the pictures post. Fingers crossed please. Thanks for letting me share.
Well, it’s about time I added a little personality to this blog. Wouldn’t you agree? Since I haven’t figured out how to properly edit the body portion of a writing on WP, I have decided to create mini posts for the “about” section. Hoping this doesn’t bore anyone. I am
Unless I feel comfortable with someone.
• sensitive yet strong
• slow to trust
• playful and sometimes a bit giggly
• loving and tender hearted
• fiercely protective of loved ones and of those who have been wronged
• curious and analytical
Asking questions and picking things apart is just how I learn and understand things.
I love animals, music, science and art. Real friendship and connection is important to me. However, meeting and talking to new people often makes me nervous, even online. Sometimes there are those who I greatly admire and would love to have friendships with, but the shyness gets in the way. Plus I am not all that good with small talk. That I don’t understand. Still I keep trying whenever I get those bursts of “I can do this” energy. ☺
Lastly, I have a visual impairment that only allows me to have partial sight. So I apologize in advance for not having a more interesting blog theme. And if I don’t “like” a picture or screenshot of a quote you’ve posted, it is most likely because I just cannot see it, not necessarily because I don’t like it. ☺
Thanks for reading.
Hmm, now I am wondering if I’ve got a weird little monster for an avatar. Laughs!
THIS IS NOT MY WRITING.
It is something I found on Fet when I first joined. It opened my eyes to the person I was before I learned of D/s. It helped me understand what I was feeling and craving back then, but did not know how to ask for.
Joy, I told you that I would find it again and share it.
When I was vanilla I fell in love with a man and my skin went ablaze. I felt his nearness create hives on my skin, nervous energy had me twitching as he came close, and my own throat betrayed me when trying to form words.
When I was vanilla I surrendered to this feeling. I drove 140km an hour because I could not get to him fast enough. I didn’t care he was older, I didn’t care if people didn’t see the match. I loved those knowing crinkled eyes, I loved the calm against my storm.
When I was vanilla I started to fill my fridge with things he liked. It didn’t cost much but I wanted him to feel at home, I wanted him happy. I wanted to be good for him.
When I was vanilla I would watch the clock to see when he would get home. I’d make my time count so that I had time for the gym, friends, errands, and be there in time to fix myself up a bit and meet him. When he walked through those doors whatever little stresses I had were gone. With him I wanted moments not the mundane.
When I was vanilla his work sometimes brought him home at 3 am. More often than not I would be awake for him. He never asked but date night would start then. I’d lay a towel out for him so he could shower. When he was done, there would be a blanket laid out before the TV with wine, cheese, crackers, some fruit, and me. The first time I did that he gave me the most peculiar look and said “Where did you come from? You know, other girls don’t do that” I laughed and said “How am I supposed to know what other girls do”
When I was vanilla we would walk hand in hand, but sometimes his hand would wander to my neck. Without breaking our stride his fingers and thumb would gently clasp around the back of it, leading me. In those moments I’d melt while at the same walking taller, feeling stronger and more beautiful than just seconds before. I doubt he sensed what beautiful turmoil that hand could engineer in me.
When I was vanilla having even great sex sometimes just wasn’t enough. I wanted to be stitched together only to be ripped apart. Needed to have the mind played with along with the nipple or the skin. Wanted him to look into my darkest corners and call them pretty. Wanted to break out into giggles at our badness, or childish selfishness for one another. Wanted to see the beast behind the man, knowing I would kiss it’s wet nose after it had finished destroying me.
When I was vanilla we would cuddle often. I would have my head in his lap and wanted to melt into it, it felt so good. Sometimes by some unknown puppet strings I would crawl across it until my stomach pressed against his lap, ass in the air, my head on my hands. Frozen there I would be waiting for something that never came.
When I was vanilla sometimes the world would end. I would have to go looking for my heart in the blood and guts of my stomach or wedged inside my throat. Tears would flow bitterly and solace would come eventually through sheer exhaustion. Those tears were cried for things that had been promised but not done. Promises made both big and small that were forgotten or dismissed for bigger or more important things. Someone else had demanded more or asked louder and others needs were more pressing. Sometimes his own comfort was more important, sometimes it just slipped his mind…..
Those times I realized I might not be his prized girl after all, just a pretty thing that happened to be there.
When I was vanilla I told the truth. When asked I was an open book. I wanted to be known and researched, wanted to explore and hunt for truths right back. But things were often left unsaid. That is when I discovered unsaid things create a special kind of pain.
When I was vanilla I wanted to be lead by this man. Someone confirm to me it is not so strange to have a will, a pulse, and a fire inside and yet hand it over in a chosen moment, because you can, because you think it will bring joy, because your heart is strong enough to beat outside your own chest. Tell me it’s not strange, because he certainly thought it was.
When I was vanilla, I wasn’t vanilla at all….I was a submissive without a dominant.
It’s Christmas Eve here and I have finally gotten a moment to write a quick post. I just wanted to let my WP friends know that I have not forgotten about you. How could I? You’ve shared so much of your lives through your writings. You’ve let me know that I am not alone in my feelings and for that I am grateful.
Wishing all of you many blessings, much love and happiness, peace and a very merry Christmas. Be well!
Okay, so I know that not all of this post is D/s related but it’s what I am feeling and I felt like writing.
I am tired.
I am tired of trying to resolve conflict between family and friends. I am tired of constantly having to put up walls to protect my heart. I am tired of being misunderstood. I am tired of being betrayed by so called friends. I am tired of hiding behind forced laughter and smiles. I am tired of feeling alone here.
I am tired of the constant strain of seeing my grandparents struggle with health issues. I am tired of not always being able to protect my precious cat when evil lurks in the shadows. I am tired of financial problems. I am tired of dealing with legal issues.
I am tired of maintaining the persona that society sees; it is not who I am. I am tired of keeping my true nature a secret from those who should, but will not except my lifestyle choices. I am tired of not being able to cuddle up with Daddy A whenever I would like to. I am tired of not being able to kneel at his feet when I need to.
I am tired of being so close, yet so far away from all that I desire right now.