My mind is an oubliette

Hugs all

Today I had a good chuckle at my exes expense, ( not to his face mind you ), because of the words he chooses to "insult" me with. Being an extreme member of the vanilla club,  he always goes to sexuality to throw the insults my way- and slut, I noticed, is his favorite to throw out at me. I know he thinks he is getting me good, bringing me down and making me wallow in my perpetual grief for my long gone sense of morality....*giggle*

But he isn't.  Slut, directed at me...I don't find it insulting.  I love sex. I love to be able to *finally* experience my sexuality and not feel shame for it. While that word is derogatory coming from him, for me I have taken the word back. It is empowering to me and shows how far I have came in this journey called life. I have no shame as I walk my path, my slut head high. I am many things. A woman, daughter,  friend, lover....a submissive,  masochist and slut to name a few. And I love being able to embrace it all.

Words have power,  but WE ultimately decide what impacts us. My ex can call me a slut and hate me for it all his heart desires...but I just laugh both on the inside and out thinking, you know what broseph,  you are right- I am.  😊🔥

-Ash💜

Some pics from a little shoot I did for my slutty self 😉🔥

To all of you, Happy Valentines Day! If you are like me, and it isn't your favorite at all, how do you celebrate it? I got myself the sweets....already enjoying😁

💜 Ash

My memory is shit, I remind you of this often

But I'll never forget your hand on my thigh, the city laid before us.

The heat of our passions pulsing through my veins.

Your hands strong enough to hold me in place, each finger knowing exactly how to touch, to drive me right over the edge.

A soft smile graces my lips, blushing deep at the thoughts drifting through my mind.

Just like that first night.

I feel alive.

Sunday, a day that I tend to find my mind often reflects on the week past, and I don't think I am alone in doing so. Since coming back to the cage, I've been reading up on blogs, remembering how much I enjoyed this space. One blog this week struck a certain chord with me, about getting our laughs in now, have a good time while still here. It seems to be such a simple message, right? But in reality, how often do we actually do so? 

This has been a personal mantra of mine these past few years. (one of a few😅)

Laugh. Be silly. Do the things today, not wait until tomorrow. Or as the kids like to say...yolo🤣

Which leads me to a funny lil story of the week. I am blessed with a true best friend, my ride or die, a soul mate and sister. And we embrace that mantra, always laughing and finding good times in the crap shoot that can be life. She messaged me saying she found the bf tattoos we should get and sent a pic. I couldn't contain my laughter and immediately agreed. We booked our appointment and got our bf tattoos, while the artist chuckled off and on...even he thought it was hilarious. Now I have a reminder of how we are together, how much laughter we have had, and have even more as people try to guess the tat.🤣

You see, our tattoos are just like the best friend necklaces you get as a kid...the picture is only complete once you put it together. And ours...while some may grasp their pearls in seeing it...makes us laugh down to our bones. 

Laughter with our loved ones...priceless. 

Sometimes, when life is giving me lemons, I race with an ostrich and it is exactly how it sounds. For starters, I live out in the country off of dusty gravel roads. About a year ago, after having a not so great day I found myself just driving, delaying going home. The first time I saw them, I thought I was possibly just tripping balls as I slowed the car down to stare in awe. I gave a little, "Hey buddy," and here one came towards me, then took a sharp right and was running, like he wanted to race. As a smile grew wide on my face, I raced the feathered giant. I thought how odd to have the birds here, so far from their home. I've never seen one outside of a zoo, and who knows if I ever will get to see the African plains,watching them in their real habitat. But I felt lucky to see them, and understood the feeling of just being out of place, not quite where I should be. Now I will go out of my way, usually weekly to holler, "Hey buddy!" and race ostriches. It really is the small things in life that make it.💜

-Ash💜

Hello A/all! I'm looking for some tips and tricks to help with these wintry blues that have me feeling kind of stuck. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated 😊

Like clockwork, the woman dressed in black arrives into the roach motel, stepping onto the splitting grey concrete with a click of her heel. I see her approach the door as I do every weekend and my mind runs loose. Always dressed in what they call a "sexy little black dress", hugging her thick curves in all the right ways. Her sunglasses wide across her face, looking like a Renaissance Audrey Hepburn, the sway of her hips intoxicating. Always a small black dress, always looking the definition of a thick goddess. Turning over her necessary cards she smiles a knowing, innocent smile, utterly contrictory to each other. Her aura sweet and kind, with a firey heat behind it. Every week he wanted to ask her questions, eager and hungry to know her story. Pulling her sunglasses up, her deep green eyes radiating a calm fire ,pinpointing them directly at him. And like every other week he chokes. What is it about this woman, this lady that drives him wild? He wishes he knew because all he could think is drinking her in. He noticed she always checked in for two adults, but was always alone. "Prostitute", his coworker would comment, the very thought both haunting and erotic to him. Logic would have him agree, no one would look like that, book for two and not be selling herself in some way. While others would act in abhorrence, he felt quite the opposite. He wished to have just but a taste of her world- a glimpse of all she embodied. Her sex. Her love. How she felt to hold on the lonely cold Midwestern nights. He imagined she felt like the warmth of a mother goddess in the body of a petite nympho, welcoming all of him into her cozy, heavenly ... 

He blinked hard as he finished the transaction, unable to keep her any longer. Lost in her sway as she left..her round ass making him salivate. He didn't know if he could hold back any longer...he had to know her. Later, in the thick of night,that thought held him as he watched her leave her room, standing outside the hotel door. 

My journey into this life has brought me joy, pain, laughter and tears....and I wouldn't take a damn thing back. I'm not the same person I was and thankfully so. I see her, curled up into a ball, unable to connect to those around her. Through the self reflection and life lessons she starts to perk up, slowly, like an opening flower in the early morning light. I know one day I will make her proud, standing tall, open to love and loss. It isn't an easy thing- it's step by step...

Now I can actually enjoy myself in public...soaking up the rays☀️

Love yourself 💛😘

*this isn't a pity party, don't treat is as such* I've always had trouble being myself.  From early on,  I realized real quick that I was different than most. From looks to likes, I wasn't like others. Too short, too fat, too nice. Too boring, too serious.  I avoid conflict like the plague, I'm always the loner and my friends list is to put it nicely...very open. I'm sarcastic, opinionated at times and loyal.

I can keep on going with what I am, it's so much more difficult to learn what I'm not. I've started seeing someone, and they made me feel like a million bucks. They are polyamorous,  like most I have met within the kink lifestyle. I found out that monogamy is rare within the community, and that's more than fine, I don't judge.  After the 3rd date,  we are talking about our potential dynamic meanwhile we asks if he can bring on another student. I had avoided asking how many ladies there were...that was very wrong of me to do. I learned I was one of many. 1 of 7. I was Thursday.  First week after finding out I just kept on, just because it's new doesn't make it wrong. But after last night I became 1 of 8.  I know I don't have much to give anymore...I'm a single mom who fought hard for happiness, got divorced. Went back to the workforce, I work overnights to support my children.  But the feeling in my gut...I can't be Thursday. It may sound stupid...I want to feel more special. My whole life I've been treated like crap, not worthy ....I don't want to be alone but I don't want this. Nothing about me is special...I'm not sure why hes even wasting his time with me.

I'm still working on loving myself, someone has to, right? And I'm finding it's been the hardest thing I have ever done.