I really like this shirt, but I frequently forget that I should prooooooobably wear a camisole under it if I don't want to show the whole grocery store my boobs.
Anybody else have a lot of clothing like this? Where you can wear it one way out in public and look totally presentable, but another way at home and it's instant tease material?
I'm not sorry.
Buuuuuuut anyway, life's chilled out and I'm back again. No for real this time!
Started back up with a bad pun and everything.
The past month or so I really have felt like a zoo animal pacing my cage. I wouldn't say I was bored, I just hit a slump. It took a lot of energy to maintain my everyday responsibilities and what I had left went to not losing my mind or neglecting my relationship with my husband. So what did get neglected was... kinda everything else, including my presence online. Hence my absence here. Which has been a shame, because I really like being active on here.
Things are turning around though. I'm refocusing, getting my energy back. I've dealt with this sort of tumble into a hole for years. This has been a much longer one than usual as the world is very stressful rn, but feeling like I'm spinning my wheels isn't new to me. So when I start to climb my way back up I at least know where my footholds are. I know Sir is always there to help pull me up, or just be there for me to lean on, its what we do for each other, and it's why if nothing else I wouldn't let that part of my life falter.
Now I'm done pacing my cage and I'm ready to escape and start.... chasing some zookeepers? Read that as you will, the metaphor falls apart here.
I guess my point, if there is one in this rambling explanation is this.
Life's not easy, and the worlds a mess, but here we are, reaching out into the void and doing what we can. Even if sometimes all we can is a blog post saying I'm keeping my head up and I hope you are too.
Watching Worst cooks in America with Sir (Because quarantine means blogging and bad TV ya'll) They're making horrible cakes and Sir looks over at me.
"This must be a painful episode for you as baker."
*shrug* "Frosting can cover a multitude of sins." (Side note I absolutely need that on a shirt.)
"....so if I start finding frosting covered bodies I should assume you've become a serial killer?"
"Not where I was going with that, but I mean if I AM a serial killer I hope I'm baking based."
"I think you get to choose your own MO dear."
"Hey you never know what makes people snap. What if whatever it is occurs in a music shop and I end killing with drumsticks forever? I mean how annoying would that be."
"...you're a weird person."
"But I'm your weird person." holding up left hand "Foreeeeeeveeeeer."
This sounds so fake, and at the same time genuinely too stupid of a conversation for me to have made up. This is what too much time in the house does to us. Buckle up kids it's only going to weirder.
You know what I really love about the blogs here? There's no "right way" of doing it. *Pause to laugh at own stupid pun title* And I guess that's true of all blogs, but it's on display so nicely here where they're all right next to each other. Some people write poetry or stories, some people do essay like deep dives into kink topics, some vent about personal experiences, some just post memes, and that's awesome! I love writing, and I love seeing people express themselves however they like here.
As for myself this is one of the only spaces I allow myself to write with what I can only describe as reckless abandon. Proper punctuation? Maybe sometimes. Overuse of caps lock for exaggeration? YOU BETCHA! Weird conversational tone, random parenthesis for aside, stupid jokes, puns, too short sentences, run ons, whatever! I can just go nuts with whatever topic I want and not worry about if it's insightful, or interesting to anyone but me, or even makes any real sense. And I love it. I can forget about the often rigid style guide of the writing I do for work and just have fun.
Weirdly enough it's a parallel to submission for me, a similar freedom of surrender and self expression. Though both portions of my life have had hurtles to jump the writing has actually been tougher. Submission is something very natural for me, the biggest challenge was letting myself love it and not developing some complex that I was somehow surrendering my also strong opinioned and independent personality. (There's like a whole other blog in that statement, but some other time.) With writing....
Okay let me preface this a little by saying I have always been an English nerd. I still am an English nerd, but there was a time when I was also an asshole. You know the "How dare you butcher my precious English language you cretin!" type of asshole. Nobody really likes this person, and honestly I didn't like myself as this person. I was mostly like this in high school and early college, and I've since come to realize two important things 1. Though I still think good grammar and spelling are important to know and any writer needs constructive criticism to succeed there are times where it just doesn't MATTER. And 2. Where did I get off being so damn judgey toward anyone about it? But hey personal growth is often about realizing you're being shitty and then (oft forgotten but most important part here) NOT being shitty anymore.
I'm by no means perfect about it. There are moments where I slip back into being a Pretentious Pancake O'douchery, but I've at least developed the good graces not to say (or type) my needlessly pedantic criticism aloud. (unless someone's dropping into my inbox being rude AND a syntax disaster, sometimes I use my evil powers for good.)
Now what does all that have to do with my adoration of the no holds barred, fuck propriety, blogability going on here? Everyones harshest critic is usually themselves. I know that I am. And I've struggled a long time with putting out any pieces of writing that I haven't edited for days and carefully considered every sentence of. Care and editing has produced some good writing from me, but they've also produced stress and some over worked nonsense that isn't any fun. Much like kink, it's about balance.
Also like kink, this is a place to let go and even have fun being oneself without fear. That freedom is something I value very deeply, and when I feel as though I'm being too silly, or unoriginal, or whatever self deprecation my mind conjures it serves as an excellent reminder.
There is no right way.
Short post about how I'm a ditz sometimes.
You know those body mark temporary tattoo pens? We have a bunch of them. Now I have used them for the kind of, draw art on yourself, aesthetic purpose they're advertised for, but mostly it's because Sir likes to write things like Spank me and cum slut on my person and I like it when he does.
Anyway these pens usually wash off in a couple days, less with a really dedicated scrubbing. (Not that I'm giving them one I'm at home who gives a shit if I keep Property of Sir on my thighs?) After a few normal showers they do start to fade, so this is where me being ditzy comes in.
I get out of the shower, I'm drying off and I notice this.... odd red spot on my butt. And I'm thinking "What the heck is that? Did I bump into something and forget?"
I shit you not I spent probably ten to fifteen minutes angling around in the mirror trying to get a clearer look at the butt smudge before I figured it out.
Sir drew a heart on my ass the other day.
I am an idiot.
That is all.
You know what's fun? Getting attention is fun. I certainly love it.
And yeah I know
Submissive Loves Attention!: More at 11!
News to nobody. But you know there's lots of different kinds of attention.
There's the focused kind when being tied up.
The sort of absent minded head pets when curled up by your Doms feet
The "Here's your reward for being a good girl" kind
And the "what should I do with you?" kind (Usually after a nice game of: Sure you can spank me, but you have to catch me first!)
I could go on, but there's a variety I'd like to talk more specifically about. The indirect kind of attention. Where it almost seems like you're not actually getting any. Anyone else get what I'm talking about? Where you're doing something hot or attention grabby, and your Dom is doing something else. Very pointedly doing something else. For example they're reading, but you realize they've been on the same page for far too long now. And it's obvious they're aware of you, but you know better than to point that out, because then the game is over. Because it's only fun if you can get a reaction without having to say something like "I know your watching."
Just something I've been thinking about ever since the last time I decided to give Sir a blow job while he was playing a game, and he continued to play as if I wasn't there. (Until he died in game, someone virtual high five me I felt very accomplished.)
I have a difficult time articulating why, but I really enjoy this sort of non-attention.
Me, picking up the cat, "He's so pouty about getting picked up, but then he starts purring and nuzzling into the attention."
Sir, "...Yeah I wonder where he gets THAT from?"
.....
I mean he's RIGHT, but also how dare he call me out like this?
The world.... let's be honest kinda sucks right now. We're all a little lonely, a little stir crazy, a little sad maybe. Even those of us, like myself, who are lucky enough to be with the one they love are feeling and maybe struggling with the tension created by this whole situation.
Today, actually over the past couple days, I've been reminded of something important. Laughter. Life can be funny, sex can (and should sometimes) be funny, kink can DEFINITELY be funny. Here on the cage we've got a whole group of people with dirty minds, too much time on their hands, and absolutely no sense of shame. If that's not a recipe for hilarity I don't know what is.
This is all a big lead in to let me tell you some funny stories, because I think it's important to remember the levity when life gets serious. So lets get a little funny, a little sexy, and definitely a little weird.
The butt.
This was years ago(like early college), rather early-ish in Sir and I's kinky days. We were house sitting for my husbands parents. It was our first go with over the door cuffs (and no I didn't fall on my ass, thought that's a fair assumption). The session itself went well, fun with dildos was had, butts were plugged, nipples were clamped, etc. Anyway we wrap it up, after care, go to bed. The next morning we're up going about the day when at some point we notice the.... silhouette. The distinct butt shaped mark on the back of the door. A mark that WILL. NOT. COME. OFF.
That was the day we learned an important lesson, that lube+wooden door=stain.
The room that was my husbands bedroom is now an office, and the butt mark? Still there. Awaiting the day someone besides us looks at it just right and realizes....
Existential Hobbes
We've all done it at least once I think. We've all had that moment where we think, let's film ourselves having sex. It could be fun to do, and fun to watch later right? So we set up our shitty phone camera off to the side, and get about the fun business. At some point the camera gets knocked over, but whatever we still watch it afterwards. On the wall we have a piece of art that's Hobbes from Calvin and Hobbes drawn in stuffed animal form (We're dorks we have a lot of weird nerd art.) and the camera fell in such away that it was angled directly up at Hobbes face. His serious, stuffed tiger face. Combined with the ongoing noises of sex in the background, creating some surreal image of existential absurdity that I'm greatly failing to describe the hilarity of. It's been years and existential Hobbes is still an inside joke between us.
Yakety sax.
Some miscellaneous nonsense here.
Anybody else ever chased down a kitten with a condom in it's mouth while completely naked? That one kinda speaks for itself.
Picture this if you will. I'm leaned over the bed, in a corset, hands tied behind my back, just finished being a little mouthy. Sir is behind me with the paddle "You're going to count to twenty with me kitten. One..." Right then after the first whack my brother calls me. My brothers ring tone is the Looney Tunes theme song. Laughing hysterically in a corset is hard.
There's plenty more, but I'll save a few for another time. It's a strong possibility that these aren't funny to anyone but me. In which case everyone gets a good chuckle at how funny I THINK I am.
Either way these are important times to remember to smile and laugh where we can.
Okay so here's the thing, I love penetrative sex. A lot. Like spread me open and fuck me six ways to sunday a lot. Sir and I were having a conversation about it awhile ago and the phrase "Penetration fetish" came up. Which has had me thinking, does that count as a fetish?
Fetish is defined as "a form of sexual desire in which gratification is linked to an abnormal degree to a particular object, item of clothing, part of the body, etc." (the lazy google definition anyway)
I wouldn't say that I like it to an abnormal degree, but maybe that's a matter of perspective? I mean what's a "normal" level at which to enjoy it? BDSM aside, people enjoy every part of sex to a different degree and for different reasons. I know plenty of women in particular who just like oral, or have to have some degree of clitoral stimulation involved. Even most of those I know who also like penetrative sex aren't quite as one dick, two dick, red dick, blue dick, gung-ho about it as I am.
I've discussed it with a few friends and opinion seems to split between "Well sure that's a fetish." and "I'm pretty sure that just counts as liking sex."
Of course these friends range from the kinky as fuck to vividly vanilla, so the perspectives are varied.
You might say that depending on certain factors it both is and isn't one. At the same time. 😁 (Something about having to open ones personal metaphoric box to find out. I dunno it's a joke I'm not going to flex too hard for it to make sense.)
I'm aware that this honestly has absolutely nothing with the Schrodinger's cat thought experiment, but I figured it made for a funnier title than Overthinking stupid stuff during quarantine.