Saturday, April 12, 2014

Crying and Stuff

There has been a lot of crying in my life lately.  Not "real" crying, but tears nonetheless.

I watched a girly chick flick the other night.  (In Her Shoes, if you must know.)  And I cried at the end during the wedding scene.  I have my go-to crying movies (Steel Magnolias anyone?), and this is not one of them, but there I was crying my eyes out.

And there is also the random commercial that brings tears to my eyes.  For no other reason than the child is giving their mom a hug over peanut butter or something equally innocuous.

Then last evening, I attended a fundraising event and there was a testimonial from a client of the organization that just made me cry.  She cried too - almost the whole time she was speaking, but she spoke on... through the tears.

And I got to thinking about crying.  I thought about how often am I really comfortable wearing my tears and how I am much more likely to try and cover them up.  To swallow them before others see.  And I thought about my twenties, when I was a young single gal and how I would seek out those girly chick flicks, just so I could cry.  And how I would cry and cry and cry WAY more than the movie demanded.  Because I just needed the release.

I don't know that I ever have a specific reason that tears are there, closer to the surface, but I do know that if you don't find a way to release them once in a while, they just keep pushing and pushing until they leak all over the place.  And I would rather take time to have a regular big release than just letting them seep out all the time when you don't really want them there.

A friend of mine once commented succinctly, "You cry at little stuff, because you can't cry over the real things that are happening."

I think this all relates to the submissive lifestyle.  I think it is so obvious, I don't even have to explain it, but hey, when did that ever stop me from trying?

For a long while there, I was obsessed with stories and thoughts about being spanked to tears.  I even had a brief experience where that happened, but it was more like leaking tears (as described above) than like I was literally spanked to a full release.

I don't really have that on my priority list anymore.  I am not sure that tears from spanking are any more of a release than orgasm from spanking is - both are a release.  And really, orgasm is much more fun to share with your Other.  But that doesn't mean that I don't understand the appeal.  I do.

Release is what it is all about.  But it is no longer tears that I need to release, so much as power.

Submitting.  Letting someone else be in charge.  Giving power over.  CHOOSING to give power over.  And by CHOOSING, I mean really, how often do you actually make an honest to god choice about the way you are going to let others interact with you?  Not as often as you think.  We are so often the passive half of the equation - at the mercy of the checkout line, the kids school and activity schedules, the way the pedestrian steps out into the street and causes you to pause, even if you are in a hurry.  I don't know about you, but every time those things happen, I get a little bit more wound up, and before you know it, I am "leaking anger" all over the place.

And to counter that kind of leakage, well, I believe that submission is the ultimate release.  It is the power equivalent of the girly chick flick.  The only way you can stop letting your power slowly eke out of your life, one lousy life interaction at a time, is to release it fully.  Really give it up.  Just hand your power straight over.  In a safe and sane situation and to a person that will hand it back to you even stronger and better than before.  And in that moment, when you are acting for someone else, you can go back to being you and stop all that damn leaking all over the place.

Also - a special note to H - we were just talking about this:  Lap Dance.  It was 2 1/2 years after the one before.  Love you!

Monday, March 24, 2014

Why Shaving

I was never the most particular person when it came to shaving my legs.  I never got into a routine with it as a younger gal and unless there was a reason, I guess I just didn't see the point.  In fact, there just *might* have been years where I didn't shave once between Halloween and Easter.  Yes, yearS.  Hey!  I needed an extra layer for insulation, you know?

Apparently this was not a deal breaker in our relationship, but from time to time, H would venture to change this behavior.  You know, I shave.  Just a little nudge here and there.

I wasn't that surprised when the first contract had language in it that required shaving.  We don't go all the way bare, but regular, consistent grooming?  Yeah, that was required.  And you know what?  I did it.  For the first time ever, I got into a regular routine and I maintained that routine for a long, long time.

I have slid backwards a little in the last few months, but a whole week won't pass now without me shaving at least all or part of it a few times.  And I noticed something that I didn't know about me.  It turns out that shaving makes me horny.

Maybe I should have figured this out sooner because at the same time I started shaving more regularly, I also started masturbating in the shower.  I never used to, because I didn't like standing orgasms, but H bought a new adjustable shower head and well, let's just say, I figured it out.

I thought the increase in masturbation was the natural result of our heightened excitement around a new contract and submissive lifestyle, and I am sure in some part, it was that.  But now all that has settled down, I can tell you - the increase is also a result of shaving.  I like touching myself.

I like lathering up my legs and pulling my razor up to make a smooth swath across my legs.  I like twisting around to get the back of my thigh, and I love pulling the skin tight to make sure the creases of my leg attaching to my torso are nice and clean.

And so, there's the conundrum - showers take me a long time on any day.  Add in shaving and perhaps an orgasm, well suddenly, I start to think I don't have time to shave.  But really, given the circumstances, why wouldn't I rush to make the time?  Make it one of my highest priorities?  Seriously - orgasms, smooth legs, sexy self... why even ask why?

Just say yes to shaving in K's house.

(Still writing blogs in the shower and trying to remember them long enough to get them down.)

Sunday, March 16, 2014


My sexual libido is a mish mash of a religious upbringing, the confusing cultural cues of being a woman and just a little bit of superstitious belief.

All of that is to say that I basically get horny at really awkward times.  And I feel prudish when I shouldn't.  For the first few months after we got married, our sex life was laughable, mainly because I couldn't transition from girlfriend sex to wife sex.  (I have no idea what that means, but it was a real phenomenon we experienced - once I was a wife, I froze up a bit and couldn't figure out how to be "proper".  Yes, it is a treat to be with me.)

Anyway, I have been thinking about all this lately, because we have been experiencing spring colds in our house.  We are both run down and somewhat sleepless, and all at the same time, I am completely horny.

Part of this is because I have absolute faith in the curative properties of the orgasm.  I believe that you are a healthier, happier person when you regularly "reset" through mind blowing sex.  Or even just orgasmic sex.

Part of this is that I am a little bit feverish, and when I feel hot, well - I feel hot.  Heat is relieved through sex.  Right?

Over the years, I have found that I am generally alone in these feelings - most people apparently just want to rest and be left alone when they are sick.  Intellectually, I get this.  But still, I get horny.

I also get wanton when I am tipsy, spanked, clamped or in Utah.  (Don't ask about the last one - just know it is inappropriate.)  And all other times, I get embarrassed, hedge and generally feel uncomfortable with sex.  Two extremes without many middle landing grounds.

I like to think that I am a small microcosm of a repressive society that is prudish and yet acts outlandishly when it can no longer contain itself, and maybe I am.  But the bottom line is that I don't approach sex in the best way that I could and I wish I was better about it.  But I don't know if that is possible.  Human sexuality seems to be so hardwired in whether it is healthy or not.

Sigh.  There is no real point to this post other than this has been on mind lately, and rather than just thinking about a blog in the shower, I thought I would write it down this time.