The Muse

I was going to write a poem just now but as the words came to mind … I realized that there is already a song that sounds almost identical. I don’t really want to post it because it is just “off” enough that it doesn’t quite apply. Oh what a conundrum!

I really wanted to thank my most recent and former Dom for showing me everything I need and want … letting me taste it. Then, as I fell to my knees in a stupefied daze, I’d thank Him again for taking it all away.

If that didn’t light a fire under my ass I don’t know what else would!

Motivation.

Thank You, Sir.

I have this ongoing joke with my daughter that I’m certain she secretly likes the band U2.  She protests and explains that she thought it was messed up that they added an entire album to everyone’s playlist (at no cost, mind you! How dare they!).  She said it was like they were trying to force people to listen to them.  

I had been wondering where this U2 album in my iTunes came from.  I was thinking that my second husband managed to access my account and download it.  He was such a huge U2 fan.  

Well the the funny thing is that whenever one of the songs would play in the car and my daughter would be riding with me, she’d go, “Hey, who is this? I like this song.”  

I’d break the news and every time she’d go “Damnit!”

She hates that she likes every song on that free album.

So now... I leave you with the ear worm haunting me at the moment:

The Troubles by U2

Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till someone else was in control
You think it’s easier
To put your finger on the trouble
When the trouble is you
And you think it’s easier
To know your own tricks
Well, it’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do
I have a will for survival
So you can hurt me
And then hurt me some more
I can live with denial
But you’re not my troubles anymore
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till someone else was in control
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till someone else was in control
You think it’s easier
To give up on the trouble
If the trouble is destroying you
And you think it’s easier
But before you throw me a rope
It was the one thing I could hold on to
I have a will for survival
So you can hurt me
And then hurt me some more
I can live with denial
But you’re not my troubles anymore
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till someone else was in control
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till someone else was in control
God knows it’s not easy
Taking on the shape of someone else’s pain
God now you can see me
I’m naked and I’m not afraid
My body’s sacred and I’m not ashamed
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till someone else was in control
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till someone else was in control

I’m laying here... and honestly, I should be sleeping. But I start thinking about stuff. I haven’t even dented a sentence into my NaNoWriMo word count and it ends tomorrow.  

I was thinking a lot about Morley’s blog yesterday; about complete submission. Instantly, a dream I had many moons ago... in a very distant time, came to mind.

Now it is going to sound kind of silly at first because, well...read on:

The setting around me was very similar to what you might find in an episode of the Tele-Tubbies; rich green grass and drab grey sky.  I was small. Almost as small as a blade of grass. I climbed up onto a rock and saw a bunny hop by. Then I started to stretch my arms wide and fall forward.  

I woke up with this phrase in my mind and I’ll never forget it:

”From this rock, I have learned to fall into the arms of the world.”

Now... what this all has to do with trust, betrayal, and surrender... I’m still pondering this.  I’m writing off the cuff here. Thinking... well I can’t say “out loud” ... but I’m thinking visibly. 

This led me to the first time I surrendered to something that terrified me because I was tricked.  

I think I may have been 5 at the time.  The family went to an amusement park and I was hanging out with my dad.  There were two lines for the log flume.  I was scared and didn’t want to ride it.  My dad convinced me that one of the lines was for the “kiddy” log flume.  

I had no idea what I was in for until I saw that we were heading up that final drop.  This is where the betrayal comes in... 

I still can’t decide if I’m angry at my dad about this or grateful.  I don’t like deception.  But the end result was that I realized it wasn’t so bad and I could ride  it without being so afraid. I enjoyed it.

My twisted family even bought the souvenir photo capturing my horror and tears.

I confess... I like drawing boobs. I don’t know why. I try drawing guys and it just doesn’t turn out right.  Not that these are spectacular... but I assure you... far better than any guy drawings I’ve attempted 😄 .

My wonderful state of crazy weather usually brings us winter storms in February and sandal 70’s at Christmas time… even though it’s not always the case. It just depends on what sort of mood Virginia is in. So forgive me when I never believe the weather person. I am sure their science is good; but the Lady has absolutely nothing to do with it, apparently. Last week, everyone was in a tizzy buying all the bread and milk at the store… two things I don’t really consume anyway…because there was suppose to be some winter ice storm happening. Ooooh… really? I sat back and shook my head thinking, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

The storm was suppose to begin sometime during the night before I left work, but it hadn’t done anything. I had made it home with no issues… no ice… no rain… nothing. As I pulled up to the house I suddenly had the strong urge to park in my driveway (which I never do because it blocks my sister in). I usually park along the yard and private drive. I don’t know why … but that morning was different.

I went inside and went to sleep (I work nights so I sleep during the day). Later in the afternoon I woke up to mayhem. The power kept flickering and I kept hearing crashing sounds all around. Ice was everywhere outside… trees were falling. Right where I normally park my car… a huge tree lay right across that spot!

I wonder if I can get a discount through Progressive for that.

    The entire scene played in my mind, like an old movie stuck on the same track, over and over. Standing in the terminal, my eyes danced across all the faces. An elderly couple embraced. A worn-out mother held her screaming toddler who arched his back trying his best to flip out of her grip. A man in a dark suit studied his watch. A few passengers darted past my field of vision until there was a clear line of sight. For just a moment my heart stopped and then once it began beating again, I could hear little else.

     It was as if my legs were encased in cement. My breathing came and went quickly; lips dry. I had the sudden urge to rub my chest for comfort, perhaps to make sure my heart did not beat right out of my body.

     He was stunning. Perhaps a foot or so taller than myself. Dark eyes fixed me with a stare that almost made me drop to my knees. Fingers pressed into my sternum and I held my breath as he moved toward me. A wolf. That is what he reminded me of. My eyes darted around for an exit, then closed while my lungs filled with a long steady breath.

     Eyes opened—he was right there.
Our eyes met and without a word, he held the back of my head with one hand, gently gripping my hair. His other hand held my face, and I released my breath in an almost audible gasp. I heard him inhale sharply and watched his eyebrows knit together, before his strong, full lips brushed across mine. Lethal amounts of electricity went coursing through my entire body and pulsed where ever he touched me. A noise escaped my parted mouth, feeling myself sink into the floor. My hands reached for him. His waist. His shoulder. The world was spinning; it was hard to say where I grabbed. His hand fell from my face and I felt the weight and warmth of it on the small of my back, pressing me against him, supporting me.

     He whispered against my lips and his warm breath against my skin started an inferno inside of my body. I could hear the break in his voice as if he were thirsty. I couldn’t say what the words were. Time paused all around us as his eyes bore into mine. Our lips still touched, unmoving for that moment. My breath became his breath as our chests rose and fell together. My hands clung to him as his fingers pressed lightly into the base of my neck. The hand on my back had slid down to my hip and he tilted his head, moving his lips over mine without really making contact. In one swift movement, his mouth took mine, like a hunger. Need filled me and I made a strangled moan inside the kiss.

Breaking for a second, his fingers played along the hem of my short, pleated skirt, “You listened. Good girl.”

     He felt just as I imagined he would; solid and strong. His scent was clean, with a hint of exotic spices. I was overcome. Like waves washing over me, passion flooded my senses. He broke the kiss and grinned. Panting, I struggled to find my voice and managed to choke out a few forced words.

     “Maybe we should go…somewhere…anywhere, Sir.”

     “Eager, are we?” His voice was smooth and the grin lingered on his lips.

      Heat filled my face as his eyes surveyed me like a predator. My lips parted as if to say something but no words could make their way from my brain to my tongue. I just nodded as I heard him chuckle.

      He leaned in brushing his lips along my jawline and whispered in my ear, “Tell me what you want, Love.” He caught my earlobe between his teeth and gently raked them across it. My knees buckled and I found myself grabbing his arms. I knew the answer to his question, but my head was in a fog. My entire body trembled and ached. He held me firmly in is arms. For that, I was grateful.

“I want you, Sir.” That was all I could manage as he looked at me with that grin, just waiting. It was more than that. He knew.

“You can do better than that.”

     My cheeks burned at his words. I looked all around the airport terminal to make sure onlookers couldn’t see the images tumbling around in my head, like an erotic circus.

     My eyes closed for a moment in a desperate attempt to settle my nerves; then opened again.

     “I want to feel you inside of me, stretching me…” The words rolled off my tongue and I could taste the truth of them. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

     He drew me in for another kiss, holding my face with one hand, then pausing to say, “Right here? In front of all these people?”

I couldn’t breathe for a moment.

(possibly continued at a later time)

Okay... So... as I was posting my last blog entry... this crazy thing was unfolding on Instagram, simultaneously.  

About a week ago I was followed by this SN that I thought was just a collection of neat little sayings and stuff.  I noticed that even a friend of mine followed the same SN so I figured “what the hell”.

A day later... it messaged me.  It said something very flowery and sweet. Aphrodite may or may not have been mentioned.  Anyway... it started out tame but escalated into a silly sext fest in no time! I have collected some amusement: (I attempted many times to defuse the raging sexual animal that I was apparently speaking with... also I am only posting the tame parts of the convo)

For some reason... out of all the various chat programs I use, Instagram just seems to be a nest of bots, predators, and weirdos (more so than the others).

With that said... I get a lot of messages on Instagram.  Anytime a complete stranger messages me with a “Hello, Dear” or “Hello, Beauty”... I know it’s time to play!  And by “play”... I don’t mean role playing or kinky stuff like that.  I mean... I get to make shit up. I love fantasy and writing fiction, after all.

My favorite is when they pretend to be in the Army and they post a bunch of “in service” pics and I can tell instantly they are fake because of the outdated uniform.  Or I start asking questions about their service and let them know that I was also in the Army... I usually begin with “What is your MOS?”  They just stop talking to me altogether. BUSTED!

Anyway... enjoy this fascinating conversation:

I was taking care of a resident last year that was so very precious to me.  She had such a quick wit and very stubborn; but she was also very kind and dear.  Every morning, I would go to her apartment and give her medicine.  Ordinarily, administering medication takes only a few minutes.  This was not the case with my little lady.  There was always something I needed to help her with and I would wind up spending about a half hour in this resident’s room.  We talked a lot and became good friends.  She was extremely intelligent and well traveled.  She enjoyed different cultures and literature. 

About a week or so, before she passed away, I went into her room to do our morning routine and she told me that she had dreamt about me and it was very important that she mentions something to me.  She said it was a quote from Hamlet and I better not forget it! She even shook her finger at me. It was that serious.  The quote is:

“This above all; to thine own self be true.”

These were her last lucid words to me.

Within the past week I have seen this quote ... practically every where.  So... I’ve replaced my profile picture with it.  Maybe it is my darling little lady gently reminding me about what she said.

Changes are happening.

I went through this drawing phase where the art I produced... came out looking like the fertilization of a human egg... or somewhat human, I ‘spose.  You decide!