Giggles’ Corner

Meaning the things I am no longer capable of what I once was. Those who noted my change in avatar, yes, that really was me at 40. I am not that, and I am not bendy anymore. I am working with disabilities; thank you to all those who have reached out and helped. My husband and I woke up sick. Both of us. So we haven't gotten to play with anything but the collar and leash, which are perfect as my glands go down. And we got one night prior to this. We were careful to wash everything before use because, well, it's us; we are careful. In any case. I've been working online, on Zoom and through email and Zoom with my physical therapist to get me moving again. It's been far too long. I don't even know where I can hold any more. The surgery on the left arm may preclude bondage on that arm. At least until I fully stretch that nerve. So I'm in the process of dealing with things the only way I know how. And radical transparency, as well as honesty, is part of my way of life. There are some portions of my life that aren't mine to talk about and that shall stay as they are; they belong to others. If I share anything about another person, it is only because I have specific permission or it is heavily anonymized.

I break here because as I write fireworks are booming between buildings. I need to say to those like myself, I'm sorry for the explosions.

My husband asked me to figure myself out; I don't blame him. I have been taking his side into account throughout our marriage; it's time that I got to express it all…Meaning I need a place to say the things that are and aren't flattering about our relationship… I still adore my husband. I started correcting everyone the moment we got married; now :: insert little smile here:: we are deciding how he likes to be referred to. Our moods change, and we’ve always flowed from one to the next. I don't want anyone thinking that I am looking for anything other than self-expression, including explicit material, and friendship. I do, in fact, occasionally talk dirty to my friends but not in a way that could be considered cheating. I will say I missed the overtures; however, I am loyal to my man. Have been for 34 years. And I intend to stay that way as long as he is alive.

With that said…and the understanding you already hold of my positionality….if you don't know married and a jabberjaw who publicly processes everything in her life…our first kink….OMG, he tried to be vanilla right away…neither of us was happy, and that didn't last at all. We refuse to be miserable. No matter who wants us to be, we're firm believers in if you don't like it, change it, people. Now the application of that is tricky. I'm trying to remember the first time he tied me up, and I actually don't have a good genesis of that…that scares me more than anything I've said so far. I can't place where we were living, only that… ok, that was the two-bedroom after the studio. We taught classes out of there. I had pulled a groin muscle; the time i figured out women pull them too. A high hook kick done improperly and NotYouGiggles discovered girls have groins too. That evening I waited tables, and that night or the next, Emory was insistent that now was the time for sex (even recounting I can feel the starts to the only argument we've ever had. Ok, second argument: we bought a tube squeezer for the first.

And so I avoid writing what I so enjoyed because it has become a frustrated fight between the two of us. And every emotion from that lingers. And i want to unwind this. We were trying to tie me to the bed, face first, ropes bound around the small mattress and box spring; wow, there's a lot of hard feelings on top of the fond memory of one of my best orgasms. And all i can think right now is of every time he started a fight over sex. Or the times I was overly sensitive because I'm an insecure person when it comes to sex. Always have been due to where I've been. That insecurity has been stood on by a husband who doesn't know he's been doing it.

You know what I'm closing this one as is. And we are going to start with the sex life that stands out to me. He has asked me why I am the way I am now, and well. Here’s an answer or part of one anyway. And yes, we are going to do a comparison to my only other sexual experience over 18.

Well, it was, and it wasn't. We, meaning both of us, woke up mid sex once. I remember the dream was a waitress dream, one that, for some reason, I didn't mind the guy reaching up my skirt. That was unusual. Usually I'd auto-react with a thumb-breaking move, especially in a dream, where hitting won't get you arrested, but this...for a body that reacts counterproductively when it comes to sex, it was wildly wet. Not something I ever get. Yet this time it was uniquely cooperative. I was bent backward, over his arm, back arched, and he slid in. I don't know if he'd been there while I was sleeping, and that turned me on more. The uncertainty made me very aware of my body. Splayed beneath him like something tiny to be played with in all the best ways. And he did. He didn't wake until climax.

This memory has stuck with me because I woke to my body's reaction, waves of pleasure, because he didn't stop to check on me. While checking on me is fine, and sometimes even necessary because of my past, he has made a habit of it in a manner that makes me feel like porcelain which I am NOT. Ok so it feels like it recently, it's not a permanent state. And in many ways I need him to stop worrying about me. I know, hell of a problem to have. I know it's not that I don't want him to care, I want him to care enough to understand that my body and my mind don't sync. Not on a regular basis.

CNC. Something I recently had to explain to my Dom, my therapist, and my psychiatrist, and how it's a fantasy to take back what was stolen from me. One of my friends, when asked for her most iconic NotYouGiggles story, recounted the stormy night I was watching the gallery with her. The rain was coming down sideways, and i had left my umbrella at the front door to dry. During the evening, someone reached in and stole my umbrella. I saw this and trounced after him right into the sideways rain and retrieved said umbrella while loudly proclaiming “Mine” and yanking it from the other person’s hands. Stalking back into the gallery, I didn't leave it by the door this time. I hadn't thought about that until she brought it up…I hadn't thought it unusual. Until she brought it up. Now I'm looking at dominance and submission…and the lateral nature of the world. And yes, I know that people take that as contradictory. It's not. Hierarchy is human-made.

And here…

Is where I will say if you're sensitive or a survivor, please be aware that I just shifted gears to connect this to CNC and my traumas. If you have issues reading about abuse, DO NOT READ FURTHER.

I am dealing with this the way I deal with everything else. Very publicly, and if you don't enjoy that, feel free to move along. No hard feelings.

I used the story above because that is what I'm doing with my sex drive right now.

I was literally raised being sexually abused. And I was beaten without bruising from birth by my sister. I was raped at 19, months before my husband showed back up in my life. We’ve known each other since I was 13. I usually stick to 19 and older. Because that's where I married him, but I never told him about the rape. I have now, or I wouldn't be bringing it up here. And now I’m processing the only way I know how to do it productively for me. Pontificate and see where the logic lies and where it falls apart.

I've been looking for a BDSM community since he first tied me down. And it all seemed to require money we’ve never had (Not asking for money, simply answering the next logical question). Now, I'm done teasing out the why of the bad experience. Not why the bad experience happened to me. But why I reacted the way I did. I had to tease out what I found attractive about the experience. Because beneath that is my sex drive. Something I would very much like to share with him. I'm going to rotate what I call him because he fulfills those roles for me. And as I've inspected my entire sex life a lot recently, these are the phases we've had. A new development. So we've long had rules in place, my husband and I.

That's why I've been seeking advice on CNC; he found his sex drive abused, and so did I, respectively. Now, we rectify that. I've long had rape fantasies. Different kinds, many include looking back on the act…I know it's a romanticization, but the bodily reaction at the time was very real. And I don't want to throw away that feeling with the trauma response. It become important to understand my husband is not a sadist. I am not a masochist in most ways and even the. Only lightly. Ok, I say lightly - I should say, vanilla, in that aspect. My Dom has no issues with any of my limit. That has never been a problem. Explaining my bodies non reaction to vanilla has been difficult for me and frustrating. I haven't had people to discuss this with.

People who have an understanding that when I say I want to control the rape, it not another taking of power it's not actually about rape at all and that’s why I liked the term CNC. So many of my formative orgasms weren't my choice. In some ways, a lot of ways he's been handing me my sex drive and I keep trying to hand it back. That's not going to work. Not anymore.

And yes I'll probably repeat that again…if only to help me understand.

I like the anime because it hides my age. However I'm trying to feel pretty now. Not what was, what is. So i have no clue. How long this one will last 

My toys came!!!!  We had to go without in some other areas but::she smiles just for him:: and he’s been listening when I talk to my friend of 42 years (ha our friendship is the answer to everything) be careful if you are a survivor I tend to be blunt with my own story and that can be traumatizing I am told and can imagine but I have no filter. He went without his monthly treat to buy me a set of toys consistent with the fantasy I told my friend about. :: I'm still bouncing like Tigger:: 

The one consistent thing has been I missed my old collar and leash. I told him the thinner one and he got me the one larger because, well it's cheap and they didn't have an in-between size. My old one definitely wouldn't have fit

He got it for me in pink!  

This one i got to unwrap 

And then there was this that happened

And what kind are they? They are big girl panties in multiple colors. 

And that tail belongs to

And then he got rope we know I'm not allergic to. He got to unpack the rope. 

The hemp hasn't yet arrived and we don't know if I'm allergic to it or not. The nylon we know I'd have a reaction so we went with cotton. As the back up seemed the safest given the restrictions. 

We had to skimp and we technically aren't going to make it. But I'll hang out at the Library or something pick up some students to pay for this. 

And I just want to share with everyone, and well…here is the place I can say too personal things and others don't mind. As I've been telling everyone, he bought me a collar and leash! A new pink ball gag, rope, and he wants to take photos of me again. I'm not in the shape i was in when my profile photo was taken. I was 47 when I went down, with nerve damage, and I've gained weight. And I thought the days of him tying me down were over. Honestly, I listened over the years. Apparently to all the wrong things. But I heard him. :: insert completely inappropriate laugh:: We often listen to those things we are intended to let go. He always told me he loved me. Me. I heard he loved my body. I no longer have that body. And accepting that is difficult. I didn't want to use old photos for that reason. I'm trying to be body positive. However, they are the photos i currently have approved by my husband. We’ll be doing a photo shoot of just the headshots to start with. We are getting a full wax next month. I'm all smiles. We've had to prioritize school and not sex. Then we lost our toys bag, and things went downhill from there. Now…he got me my leash and collar, and a brand new ball gag in pink and rope. Oh my Daddy bought me rope. :: jumps like Tigger:: Dom, honey, husband, Daddy. Shit, the only Daddy in my life in any way. I mean all 54 years.