Not Just Laundry

 

 

i started a post on the sensual humiliation class i went to with Dan and dawn, but there’s too much material about that to write it today.

i spent way too much time already this morning revising some minutes for a group i belong to.  We met last Tuesday.  i’m the secretary.  i promised to do the minutes Saturday morning.

i did start them Saturday.  And i’m only 2 days late.  In the greater scheme of things, that’s not bad.

Not finishing what i start ~ you’d think i had some particular form of ADHD the way i leave loose ends dangling.  And it’s things that matter to me just as much as things that don’t.

i still want to blog about whether or not domination/submission is innate or learned.  In my vanilla blog, i started a series that i left hanging.  The Major has fallen off my to-do list.   

i need to buy a ladder so i can hang my quilt.

i never followed up on the job opportunity from months ago.

My basement is not going to clean itself out.

In my fantasy, i have a Dom who helps me see these things through to completion.  Actually, Sir X did say something to me the other day ~ asked me about the vanilla blog thing i’d been writing about ~ which prompted me to think about getting back to it.

But i haven’t done it.

It’s difficulty detaching, i think.  Not a lack of attention but an over-attention.  Not a lack of ability to stay on task, but trouble shifting.

So ~ for example ~ if i start to clean my stove, intending to wipe it off, i may end up with a piece of paper towel wrapped around a toothpick, trying to get the last tiny bit of grunge off a hidden corner.  That over-attention to detail.  

My solution?   Procrastination!

When i procrastinate,  i have limited time to spend on a task, i can’t lock into it to that extent.  i’m forced to settle for “good enough” which is ~ often ~ good enough.

But that’s not an effective long-term strategy.   

Give me a list of things to do and i have to switch tasks frequently.  Otherwise ~ like this weekend.  My goal was to unpack and do laundry.  i ended up reorganizing my closet.   Moving shelves and a chest of drawers.  Great ~

~ but two loads of laundry are still waiting to be folded.  

That was my original task, just to get caught up on laundry.

Ok, so how boring is this post?  

Laughing…  

Here’s a tiny connection to kink.  Someone at Kinky Kollege ~ Barbara Carrellas maybe?  ~ commented that submissives need help prioritizing.  That we “can’t” prioritize.

And i put “can’t” in quotes, because clearly, that’s exaggerated, of course we can and do a lot of the time.

But maybe i’m not so good at it sometimes.   i know what’s important. i know what i need to do.

i can’t pull myself away from whatever i’m doing until ~ oooh.  Until it’s perfect?  Is this just perfectionism rearing its ugly head?

Sigh.

i don’t know.  i think i can’t detach.  Whatever catches my attention is what gets my attention.  And i just keep going on that til something else catches my attention.

AND i don’t have a real ending for this post.  So i guess i’ll have to keep writing forever… or until it’s gotten so late that i’ve GOTTA go.  Which would be~

~ o, yeah ~ NOW.

Still laughing…

{And i had to come back to say that ‘Nilla and Faithful are in the middle of the winter storm, both without power, but both safe and doing ok.  i don’t know who else among my blogging buddies is in that, but i’m hoping you are all safe and warm.}

His Hands

i wake up this morning ~ lie snuggled in bed, not wanting to get up.  i had slept naked, and my skin seems hypersensitive.  i am aware of the sheets, silky over and under my body. 

The weight of the quilt over me.

And my breasts ~ my breasts seem to feel traces of His hands, lingering.  Not just on my skin, but deeper, as if His touch has left marks embedded on my flesh.

You know, i was sad on Friday.  i had shared that with Him in an email Friday night, and He had not responded directly to that.  i wasn’t sure what to make of that.

i wasn’t upset.  i heard from Him, it wasn’t like He’d disappeared.  But He didn’t mention my sadness.

Last night, we had plans. Going out for dinner.  To a movie.  And home for play time.  i wondered what He would say, if He would say anything.

i guess it was a challenge.  He says He’s always setting up challenges for me, sometimes He tells me what they are afterwards.  Sometimes they’re obvious ~ will you take off your panties and take pictures of them in Starbucks? ~  sometimes not so much.

So i guess this was a challenge for Him.  Here’s this piece of my life, what will you do with it?

We’re at dinner, we have just gotten there, when He mentions it.  Briefly, simply, He acknowledges it, expresses it in a way that makes me feel He understands.

That He understands it was a hard thing to do, and that He understands of course i would feel sad about it.  Just briefly, just a few sentences.

Then He says that His plan for the evening is to help me separate my professional life from my personal life.

{smiling…}

And He does.  He does exactly that.

So it’s not surprising that i wake up with the feel of His hands on my body.  Purring once again….

At the Dawn…

Thank you all for the support last night…

Joy and Sorrow

by Kahlil Gibran

“Then a woman said, “Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.”

And he answered:

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”

But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.

Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.

When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.” 

Sadness

Today, i went to court.  i sat in the hallway for about 4 hours, but then i testified. 

And someone is losing her kids permanently, forever.  My testimony helped make that happen.

It needed to happen.  She can’t give them a home where they’ll be safe.  i tried to help her learn how to do that, but she can’t.  Or won’t, or whatever.

i want to curl up in a ball and rock and cry.

i know it’s not my fault i did everything i know how to do, everything i knew how to do.  i couldn’t make it end differently, and there was a time i thought we could, i thought she was going to pull it off and learn to do what she needed to do ~ 

~~ but not.

It didn’t happen, isn’t going to happen.

It’s done.

It can’t be fixed.

She just watched me, never changed expression,as i testified.

And i know, i know, i know i did the right thing, the only thing i could do, i just told the truth, the only truth i knew, that’s all i could do.

It’s just sad, it just is.  And it hurts – and it ought to.  If i could go to court and tell it the way it was and know that her kids will be gone from her forever, if i could do that and go home and be fine, just another day ~ well, wouldn’t that be weird??

So i mourn.

i just mourn.  For her and her kids and for a system that works and doesn’t work and ~~

i mourn.
 

The Easy Way…

i totally overslept today.  Like two hours overslept.  So needless to say, you know what’s going to get the short end of the stick….  {Donna, where did that phrase come from??}

But yes, it’s my blog that suffers… laughing… on the other hand ~

I saw this on Facebook and had to post it here – it made me think of some couples we know, like Sam and Simone…

Here are a few more pictures from the website:

And it’s time to shower.  So – sorry about the sad post, maybe i’ll be back later this afternoon…

Not Exactly HNT

The directions come about 3:00 yesterday afternoon.  They’re emailed to me, and then He texts me to let me know they’re available.

They seem long and complicated.

He tells me to copy them on a piece of paper or a card, but i’m crazy busy at work, so i get permission to print them instead.

After work, i rush home, have a light meal, clean up and change clothes, by which time i’m running a few minutes late.  i rush out the door, drive fast, and am back on track pretty quickly.

In the middle of the drive, i’m directed to stop at a particular Starbucks for coffee to go.  i’m supposed to park facing south.  That throws me for a minute because the parking spaces are facing southeast, according to my car compass,  but i settle for that and hope it’s good enough.

He’s told me exactly how He wants his coffee, and says i can get whatever i want.  But first, i’m to go in the bathroom, take off my panties.  Using my creativity, i’m to place them artistically around the room and take pictures of them.

Mmmhmmmm.  You read that right.

So i do.  i’ve had no problem with the directions up to this point, only a little trouble parking facing south, and i have no problem taking the pictures.  Here’s one:

Yes, that's my boot...

i’m supposed to leave the bathroom smiling, which i do, and get the coffee, which i also do.  i’m a little nervous about fixing his, but it’s done and i’m on the road again…

The directions continue, and i’m fine until the very last part, when i’m supposed to turn left onto his street after the car wash.

i miss the car wash.  

It’s closer to the last turn than i expect, and i don’t see it, so i go too far, way too far, and it’s dark and i can’t see anything, and i know i need to turn around but He hasn’t given me the name of the street, just told me where to turn, and it’s getting late and i know i won’t be able to find it, so i’m getting freaked out and finally ~~

~~ i do turn around and start back, but i can feel tears welling up in my eyes, cause how can i be lost????  And how will i ever find it???  It’s dark and scary and ~~

~~ and then i hear my text noise and i glance at my phone ~ it’s Him.  He wants to know if i’m running late or lost.  

i can’t answer right away, cause i’m driving and it’s a curvy road and dark and there’s nowhere to pull over, and that almost makes me cry ~ but then i see a spot to pull off the side of the road, so i text back:

i’m lost

and He says

Where?

but i’m driving again, and on the verge of tears still, and then ~~~ yes, my phone rings ~~ and it’s Him.

Whew!

i know my voice is shaky at first, but He figures out where i am and talks me in.  i’m there in just a few minutes, and breathe a big sigh of relief.

Afterwards, we talk about it, what had happened, how i’d gotten lost.  He explains to me why the directions were given the way He did it, and how He’s trying to teach me to pay attention to where i am and how i’m getting somewhere.

Like even the part about parking facing south was to make sure i knew which way i was going, so that was actually kind of cool.  And He’d wanted me to copy the directions manually because they would have been easier to remember, that would have fixed them in my mind better.

But i did ok, even though i got lost, i followed all the instructions ok, i just missed the car wash.  i had to email Him the pictures i took so He can pick which one is the contest winner and i get a prize.

And i didn’t even know there was a contest!

Here are a couple more of the pictures.  Do you have a favorite?

Hanging on the door handle...

On the floor...

On top of the paper towel dispenser...

Instructions Sent

i’ve gotten instructions for my date with Sir X.  

We’re meeting at his house tonight, which is actually a first time event.   He apparently wasn’t comfortable having guests until He’d done some thorough cleaning.  But Saturday was a big cleaning day at His house, and now He’s ready for visitors.

i’m to come home after work, have a light meal, and leave 45 minutes before i’m due at His house.  No food at His house.  This is an evening of “carnal pleasure,” He says.  

i’ve gotten explicit instructions on what to wear ~ a dress with buttons, or a shirt with buttons and a skirt.  Frigging buttons.  i have exactly three shirts that have buttons.  One of them is a flannel shirt.  i’m pretty sure flannel is not what He has in mind.

And it wouldn’t go with a skirt anyhow.   It’s a flannel shirt.  Perfect for cleaning house.  Going on a hayride.

i’m going to have to get a new wardrobe with buttons.   Sigh.

So i get off work at 5 today, fortunately, which will give me time to get home and change clothes and ~ you know, get ready.

He will give me directions to His house ~ i haven’t gotten them yet.  We went by there once, so theoretically i know where it is, but you know me, i couldn’t find it again for love or money.

i know what part of town it’s in.  i have a general idea, and i could find the area on a map.

Which i’m sorely tempted to do.  

i just want to see ~ if i leave work and come home, am i retracing my steps when i go to His house?  Would it make more sense to take clothes and change at work, stop somewhere for a light meal, and then go to His place?

And i almost pull up google map, when it hits me ~~~

~~ O, wait!  This is what got me in trouble last time!  Trying to plan ahead and make sure i knew where i was going.  Couldn’t just trust his directions, had to run around and see where they led ahead of time.

Ok.

Not gonna do that again…  nope.

i’ll wait.

If He texts the damn directions one street at a time, i’ll wait.

i can follow directions.  i can.

And maybe i’ll run over to the shopping center next to work and look for something cute to wear with buttons…

******* i haven’t forgotten about reporting back on classes for Kinky Kollege – more on that when i have a little more time ~ and when i’m not distracted by finding clothes with buttons ~ and the spanking bench awaiting me…********

Back at Home…

My cats are driving me crazy ~ not sure if they’re happy to see me or mad at me, but they’ve been in and out of the house 500 times.  They’re meowing at the top of their lungs, rubbing on me, and just generally being pitiful.   Good grief, is that what it’s like to have a needy sub???

Yikes.

i was reading an article on Dominant Drop, by a Domme named Mistress Steele, but don’t have the web link for it.  Which makes it pretty useless for my purposes this morning.  But it was excellent.

So i’ve got five minutes to write this.  

No time to write about my next class, which was Molly Devon of “Screw the Roses, Send me the Thorns.”  Her presentation was more discussion than presentation, and there was some interesting tension in the room.  Some of that was around the question of whether or not our kink roles are innate or not.

i was a little annoyed myself in there with a gentleman who seemed to believe it was based on hormones and hard-wired because boys don’t really want to play with Barbie’s.  Ok, he didn’t say it quite like that, but close enough to annoy me.

i just pointed out that gender and toy preferences are on a continuum, not binary points, and that not all girls like Barbie’s either, and not all boys like trucks.  But then i quickly added that submission and Dominance don’t actually follow gender lines anyhow either, because that’s the real point for me.

It it were based on how much testosterone you have, all men would be Dom’s, only women would be subs, and the 50’s would have worked.

But i want to tie that discussion to the discussion here with Ms. Constance, and to the input from you all, so that’s not going to happen in the next three minutes…

O, i know what i can talk about!

Sir X.  

Someone private messaged me wondering why Sir X hadn’t gone to this kink event with me either.  It was a good question, and i imagine she’s not the only one wondering.  

We talked about it, but He had some prior commitments over the weekend that he’d made to friends before he met me.  And because i was going straight from the other workshop, He would have had to drive separately or fly up, and it just didn’t seem like a reasonable choice.

We’ve been in touch, thank goodness for 21st century communication.  He was quick to answer text messages particularly, so that was nice and some immediate gratification.

We’ll see each other again Wednesday night.  i really missed Him Saturday night, so i’m looking forward to tomorrow.

And in the meantime, i need to be focusing on what i need to do this morning…. got to get to work super early to complete some stuff that was due yesterday.

Sigh.  

It’s too bad i can’t make a living going to workshops.  But, i think i need to develop my own workshop or finish my book on PTSD and trauma ~ then at least i could present at events and wouldn’t have to pay to go! 

In Need of Correction…

No, not me, in need of correction, well not exactly… but my post about Jay Wiseman and rope is in need of correction.  Next time i decide to quote technical stuff, i’ll consult the expert before i hit “publish.”

So, along with a Friend Request on fet, i sent Jay {i think it’s ostentatious to call him “Jay Wiseman” all the time, don’t you?  Like i want to make sure you know it’s not just ANY Jay…}  Anyhow, i sent Jay a link to the post today about his class.

He sent me a message back.  It said:   

Hi (again) aisha,

Thanks for this. It’s very well written and I appreciate your comments.

Oh, two clarifying comments:

1. The actual quote is..
the scrotum
is not
a load-bearing
hardpoint. 😉

2. Numb limbs in bondage make me a bit nervous. True, numbness per se (absent “bad pain”) does not seem to correlate with an increase in post-bondage problems, but I’m not entirely comfortable telling people to ignore numbness — even if, perhaps, it would be fine to do so. Under the “less than 120 minutes” parameter, I don’t really care about changes in color or temperature, or whether or not one can slip X number of fingers under the ropes, but numbness does make me a bit nervous.

(If you’d like to do a copy-and-paste of the above to your blog, and this comment, I’d be fine with that.)

Your blog is very interesting and thoughtful. I just may come back to it from time to time.

Best regards,

Jay

i thought that was a lovely correction, and appreciated it and the kind words about my blog too, of course.  And now you know…

…the rest of the story.

🙂

The First Class

The first class i went to was Jay Wiseman’s and it was terrific.  He’s funny and laid back and the class flowed nicely.

There were safety lessons ~ mostly the ones i’ve mentioned:

“Bad pain” is the best predictor of a problematic outcome with bondage under 120 minutes ~ “Bad pain” = STOP.   Of course, we all knew what he meant by “Bad Pain,” as opposed to good pain.  Numbness is worrisome too.*

ER trips are mostly due to a fall of some sort.

The scrotum is not a load-bearing hardpoint*.

And ~ i don’t think i told you this one, but it’s maybe the most important one.   BDSM fatalities occur primarily when someone is in severely restrictive bondage and they’re left alone.    

So, ‘Nilla, in your recent story about the adventuresome dogs, i’m glad her Master had only pretended to leave her alone.  

Because ~ saying it again ~  tying her up securely and leaving her is the riskiest thing to do in terms of potential fatalities.  He told a couple of stories about events that led to death, which i don’t remember in enough detail to share, but you know, he has his own website and everything here.

His class was not all talk.  Entitled “Rough Rope, Bondage, Erotic Torture, and Predicament, All in One!” he demonstrated bondage with sisal rope on a very willing victim.

Let me say again, he used sisal rope.  It’s that kind of rough rope that looks like it’s fraying already.  Like this:

Just looking at it, you know it’s going to be kind of itchy and uncomfortable.  And apparently, it is uncomfortable as you get wrapped, but once it’s securely tied, it’s ok ~ unless you move.  Then it’s um, uncomfortable, all over again.

Hence the predicament part of the bondage.  You’re fine, unless you move.  

He described it in psychological terms as an approach/avoid conflict ~ so you “approach” moving, only that’s uncomfortable so you want to avoid it.  But you need to move, so you approach again…

Sin, your Master would love it.  Jay mentioned a couple of things that would force a submissive to move.

Laughter.

Or ~ even better ~ an orgasm.

It was fun watching him restrain his volunteer,  a willowy redhead who stripped to her panties happily and clearly enjoyed the experience.

It was interesting watching her face.  Knowing what it feels like to be restrained, to feel the rope going around me, to feel myself being wrapped…  well, watching her face brought those sensations back.

He put her arms in a harness behind her back, brought the rope between her labia, and then ~ i don’t know if i can describe this right ~ he pulled one piece of it taut between her legs.  Then he wrapped and twisted some more so he ended up with the rope divided so he had two pieces.

He brought the two pieces up between her legs too, but on opposite sides of her labia.  So ~ are you picturing this ~ the one rope is right in the center, then the two strands of rope run on the outside of the one rope, pressing firmly against her…. yeah.

She was a happy sub.

He made her sit, and that was fun to watch.  i know what it feels like from the inside, and it’s like a tiny taste of it to watch her experience it.

There was a woman in the audience who’s new to kink ~ i know this because she announced it several times.  About my age, she’s pretty sure she’s a Domme, and is looking for knowledge and experience.

So she pipes up at some point and wants to know, “What’s she getting out of this?  I mean, what’s in it for her?”

And i had to laugh, because it was so obvious to me that our rope model was in seventh heaven at that point, happily flying in her own head.  But Jay asked her to respond ~

~ and of course watching her try to come back and find words for what she was feeling was fun too.  

Jay commented that sometimes it seems like he’s just the ground crew, and of course we know what he means.  He was doing all the work.  

She was flying…

Makes me smile just remembering it.

* These parts were originally wrong, see In Need of Correction for an explanation.