OUCH

I have always maintained that I suffer from the Peter Pan Complex (I'm never gonna grow up!)

And those that have played with me can attest to the fact that when I am flying on endorphins my mental age ranges somewhere between 4 and 5 years old.

However - yesterday I was not / did not play ........ BUT I landed up feeling more like a 5 year old than any time I am playing.

I went to visit a friend.......... and when I was walking out the front door - I didn't realize her front step (from the front door to the cement - yes I said CEMENT - patio ) was not up to code and just a wee bit higher than it should have been. I put my foot down expecting to touch cement ...instead I went down........ hard....... on all fours. And no I was not demonstrating puppy play or any form of animal play.

She screeched - I tend to fall with flair and dramatics. I slowly and painfully rolled over onto my ass - hoping against hope my new pants had not had the knees torn out of them - especially since I was on my way to a house warming.

Nope the knees to the pants were fine......... BUT... rolling up the legs of the pants revealed my knees .. the ones of skin and bone .. were not so fine. They were skinned and bleeding and black and blue (well one was black and blue - the other one was just skinned)

Being the grown up on the outside... I declared I was fine.. just feeling foolish.... picked myself up with as much dignity as one can muster after falling ass over tea kettle... and climbed into my car.

When I arrived at baby daughter's house warming all I could think was " I want my mommy!!" I was so close to tears.. and my knees were .. OUCH !!!

We rolled up my pant legs again to reveal bloody knees . Fortunately baby daughter has 3 sons so band aides are never in short supply. She even had BIG ones that almost covered the knees.

The knees were bandaged up... advil taken.. ice applied .. drink in hand.. I went out to join in the festivities. Everything was going along swimmingly until I stood up to go and get dinner. It felt as though my right knee was the size of a football and as though someone had jammed a whole mess of cotton batting inside the joint.

I managed to hold out till a semi respectable hour and then begged my leave and came home. More ice - more advil - and bed.

My plan today is to keep the one knee iced at regular intervals - take advil - and pray a lot. School starts tomorrow......... with the kids !! I have my 'first day of school' outfit planned and trust me when I say, it does not involve a cane!!

Here is a picture of my poor swollen bruised skinned knees...........(self portrait - doesn't really do justice to the damage .. trust me!!)





The one thing you can bet on......... this year when a lil one comes in crying with skinned knees - they are gonna get a whole mess of sympathy from me!!!

Simulation

It was still dark when I awoke this morning..... feeling hands caressing my breasts.. feeling the wetness between my legs. I moaned and stretched.. wanting more of what this phantom lover had to give to my starving body.

I didn't open my eyes, I wanted to stay there in the wet warmth of the dream. There was a need - no, more than a need - an absolute craving for touches, for a hard cock between my legs. But there was no lover in my bed - only the hangover from a wet dream.

So I opened my eyes and reached for the toys that are always beside my bed... lifted the covers and brought the dildo down between my legs - teasing myself, closing my eyes, trying to find my way back to that phantom lover who had wakened me before the sun was up.

I caressed my breasts - running nails over them making them tingle. I teased my nipples making them hard and erect. I ran my hands down my body - teasing it, caressing it, arousing it even more. I did these things because there was no phantom lover in my bed.

And when it was over, this early morning release, I laid quietly thinking that somehow simulation of any event is never as good as the real thing. And it has been a long 6 months of sleeping alone, of phantom lovers and simulations.

UGH!!!

Ok I had a busy day planned.. a good day planned. I was going to do the laundry and clean my office upstairs.

That was my plan.

Then after a bad night's sleep I tried to log onto the net only to find my ISP server was down. DOWN???!!! I am good.. I document every time I have trouble with my internet server.... it was down twice in May.... four times in June.. and twice today (early this morning - then it came back up only to go down 4 hours later)

Then I also woke up to a beeping from my alarm system. The fire alarm battery was low. I remembered I had to call them before I took the batteries out YAY me!! but I didn't know what size batteries it took and didn't know that the minute I took the cover off to find out the size of said batteries I would set off the fire alarm.. which if anyone is interested ... goes directly to the fire department.

Ok so first things first.... shut the damn screaming alarm off..buy new batteries and get the damn thing working again....... which took forever because (who knew) you are supposed to leave the damn batteries out for at least 5 minutes before installing the new set. Oh well ALL the damn directions are written down and pasted to the alarm box so next year I won't forget.

Then I got on the phone with my ISP server and spoke to some guy named "Ian" from India - do they really believe giving these techs english names is going to make me understand them any better???!!!! or believe they aren't still out sourcing ??!! Any way.. after he had gone through his check list he passed me to "Michael" who also went through his check list.. and got me up and running. BUT.. (why is there always a BUT???) they have to send a technician out tomorrow between 5 and 9 to look for the short in the wiring!!! ughhhhhhhhhh

Oh yeah.. and the icing on this day ... I have a headache....

so goodbye cleaning office upstairs.. and probably goodbye to doing the laundry...

I am NOT stressed.. I am NOT stressed...


I am just having a really bad day !!!

Droplets

I have written an erotic story (well erotic to me) and it is up on "Behind the Screen" for your reading pleasure.

Who knows one day I may close down the erotic blog and just combine real life and fantasy here under one umbrella - the Adventurous Journey.,

The "right" fit

Forty years ago I read a book that was to direct my inner most desires for nearly 40 years. That book was the Story of O.

The interesting thing to me now.. nearly 40 years later ... and after 6 months of intensive soul searching..... is that the actual plot to the book was not what directed my inner most desires. The "director" was certain acts within the book.

It started with the dress she wore ...... I loved the hint of nakedness - the hint of availability.

It continued on to the piercing - ahh the piercing! It was the one act in the entire book that left me weak kneed and knowing I wanted THAT for me. And there was the branding...... I had heart palpitations just thinking about it.

There was one particular episode in the book where she was beaten - strung between two pillars. Beaten until she was black and blue. I dreamed of such a beating.

And so 40 plus years ago my inner most desires were set. Fast forward to the great internet age.. and I discovered that this work of fiction was much more than a book - it was a "lifestyle". And oh my god I wanted it !!

This lifestyle though came with a whole slew of "labels" ....... Dominant, Master, submissive, slave, switch, Top, bottom......... what the hell was all that about??? I just cut to the chase and decided that I must be submissive and I would strive to be slave. Seemed simple to me. I wanted the "acts" therefore I had to pick a label and then everything would fall into place. I picked submissive.

Only it wasn't....... simple that is.

All these labels never recreated the feelings I got from reading the Story of O. The only time it came close was when I WAS pierced...... or when I was strung up being beaten black and blue....... or to a lesser degree .. when I was tattooed.

On my good days I could put forth a reasonably good facsimile of a submissive (or as some thought - slave). And there were times that I was told I was not a submissive/slave - but a Domme. I always cringed at the thought of being called a Domme. I hated the "Miss Morningstar" title that folks would tease me with.... Hell I even tried being "Miss" for a while....... and knew almost instantly it didn't work for me.. didn't fit.. made me feel like a massive huge fraud. So I must be submissive right???

I started this blog.. a submissive's journey..... and very soon had a rather sizable readership. Validation by numbers. I WAS submissive.

Well I could write a good blog.

And I could pretend well...... act the part (in real life I mean)

And so for 15+ years I was submissive verging on being slave.

I struggled for a long time with the difference between the two...... I wanted to be the best I could be (cause that is who I am - I don't do anything by halves) slave was the best - according to everything I read and everything I heard... so I strove to be slave.

And for many years I strayed from what really directed me.. pain had originally directed me.... and here I was 15 years later doing a whole mess of mental stuff..... with very little of the intense pain that had originally started me on this journey.

As I said yesterday - this slave label didn't fit .. it made me irritable and I did some cruel things. The worst being I walked away in a blink of an eye from the man who had been my "Sir" for almost 10 years.

I felt lost and alone...... I had submissives who had read my blog for years coming after me in email......... I have been snubbed by the "sisterhood" of submissives over and over again. I guess maybe they saw me as a fraud....... I hold no grudges..... I guess in a way I had led them on - in a manner of speaking....... I understood their anger.. their disappointment...their angst. I have to say here..... I never meant to lead anyone on....... It has been a journey......... and you all signed on for the ride....... And my struggles are no reflection on what you do...... trust me..... I almost envy you submissives/slaves because you have found who you are and what works for you.



There was one label that lurked just off to the side of my subconscious. A label I didn't want to look at .. to examine..... to validate.

That label was MASOCHIST.

That label almost sounds dirty, evil, sick.

But if ... like me.. you go back and look at what originally caught my interest in the very beginning of this journey ....... it was pain...pure unadulterated pain.

Bottoming taught me that I could have that pain without all the other trappings.
But unfortunately bottoming wasn't exactly a good fit either......I needed more stability than bottoming could give me.

And so here I am now.. 40 years later....... having come full circle. I wasn't a submissive/slave/bottom then... I am not one now.

There I have said "it" !! I am not a slave/submissive/bottom. Pointe finale.

So does that make me a masochist?? I suppose many will say yes it does.. because the only thing I seek is pain. But I am much more than a masochist... and I want more than the masochist label can give me.

Labels .. that's all they are.........words that we use to identify ourselves and others. I have tried most of them on - a bit like the way Mz Tina (a Fetlife friend) described it - 'me standing in a cupboard with my ass hanging out, trying on labels looking for the one that fits and throwing the rest over my shoulder .. discarding them.' If you look at the imagined pile of discarded labels - you will see slave, submissive, bottom, Top, switch, Dominant/Mistress. There are no "fits".

I will continue my own personal journey......... where ever it may take me. And you are all still welcome to come along for the ride. It is still an adventurous journey..... just leave the labels out of it please !

Fraud

I have had 6 months of trying to figure out what went wrong.. what I want.. what the hell is the matter with me !!

I don't promise anyone I have all the answers but I have got some.. see if you can follow the bouncing ball here........

First off - I thought I really wanted to be a submissive. Over the months .. talking to different folk....... I realized that by their definition I had been trying to be slave but I am probably more submissive.

I chewed on that theory a lot !! I do know I hadn't felt comfortable in my own skin for a long time. I did figure out that I had been craving some illusive being that was described all over the net........ but it wasn't me. And I blamed myself for not being able to get "there" ...... to that perfect place of submission.

I have read more than one blog over these 6 months that talk about those illusive slave like behaviours...... and I have been witness to it all first hand in real life - Dom takes control - slave does what she is told, jumps when told to jump, smiles when she feels like screaming, comes and goes and does what she is told when she is told how she is told........... and I suddenly realized it totally completely irritated me.

I also realized that for the better part of 20 years that was what I thought I wanted....... I wanted to be wrapped up in someone's dominance and to be the quintessential slave. I have been suffering from the world's longest sub frenzy known to man... 20+ years of searching frantically for something that I thought would make life perfect.

Problem is - I got irritated with the whole process. And that irritation spread outwards - washing over everyone in its path. Instead that irritation should have spread inwards. I should have been asking myself WHY in god's name I wanted something that didn't fit me. Why in god's name was I still suffering from this madness called "sub frenzy"???!!

Then I had 4 months of bottoming. And we all know what a success that was - NOT! I hated (what I call ) prostituting myself for a little bit of pain with no connection - no real bond - no love . I landed up feeling like some sort of receptacle for someone else's desire to inflict pain. Nothing more than a receiver of pain.

But I came to realize there was something right about it too. For a certain period of time I would wear the leather collar of submission and when the time was over the collar came off and I was the other me again. The strong independent me who ran my life like a well oiled machine....... who enjoyed her life with all its bumps bruises and sunshine too....THAT felt right.

So here I am ........6 months later........ knowing I have been a fool ....... running around in search of something everyone else had .. and I thought I had to have too. Like I said .. acting like some silly lil newbie .. suffering from sub frenzy..

Tomorrow or the day after.. or the day after that.... I hope to be able to explain where I am heading now. What I think will be a more perfect fit for me. I think I am ready to tackle the dreaded "labels" and put them to rest ........ once and for all.

It's complicated

Last December the powers who be decided to divide up all the staff and kids from my school into 4 other schools, leaving my school building empty.

Then the powers who be decided to move another whole group of kids and staff to take up home in my school building. (confused yet??)

I didn't much worry about any of it as I was staying in my lil corner office in the same school. I had to pack up all the paper work I had on all the kids and their families and make sure it got sent out to all the right schools.......... but really it wasn't a big deal.

I enjoyed my summer... relaxed.. and honestly didn't think much about the start of the new year... it would happen regardless of what fussing I did.

So I went into school yesterday relaxed and unstressed and ready to start the year. The janitor met me in the parking lot. He had said he was gonna phone me... with the bad news. BAD NEWS??!! how could there be bad news this soon into the year???!!

Well .... none of my equipment or supplies went anywhere. BUT... all the equipment and supplies from the group moving in did go somewhere..... to a back room in my school. 100 boxes of "stuff". ONE HUNDRED !!! And my job is to empty those boxes and integrate the "stuff" with my own.

My first question was why in god's name did they store all those boxes in a back room - why ... WHY??....... hadn't they moved them into my huge (almost as big as a gym HUGE) space???? Now I had to schlep all those boxes from the back of the school to my area........ does that make sense to anyone ????

I was lucky - a couple of strong muscled young guys were hanging around with nothing much to do. They watched me schlep a couple of loads of boxes ... and then they appeared with dollies and offered to do the schlepping - god bless their lil hearts !!

I spent 5 hours opening boxes. I think I got 10 done. I am trying to approach this experience much like one approaches Christmas presents - mounds of boxes with no idea what is inside. Because someone in their infinite wisdom decided I really didn't need exact information of what was in these 100 boxes. It might say "art supplies and office supplies" and inside I might find some scrap art paper, a handful of thumb tacks and pounds and pounds of other stuff, everything from a lost dinosaur to a handful of lego.

Somewhere in those piles of 100 boxes is the paper work I absolutely MUST have to start the year. Somewhere. My bet is I am gonna find it in the last box and it will probably be marked "art /office supplies".

Add to the boxes - the problem of no staff list has been set up - so I basically have no idea who is coming to work with me in a week. Add to that problem that the new cabinets that are going to hold the "stuff" from these 100 boxes are leaning against a wall and have NOT been bolted down - and no one seems to know where the carpenter is........ and seeing as everyone is unionized - no one else is gonna bolt down those cabinets. Add to that no one can find my computer.. my phone doesn't work ... and because of the boxes I really can't get into my office anyway!!

I like a challenge ...........but this is beyond challenge....

It is complicated !

end of August

Ever since I was a kid - this was my favourite time of the year. I loved new school supplies.. I loved my new school bag.. my new uniform (yes I wore a school uniform)

Sometimes I wonder if this love of new books and pencils and erasers was the reason I became an educator. I still shop for new pens and notebooks - no more school uniforms but that's ok... I don't really "do" school girl (or school teacher for that matter) not my fetish

Over the weekend I bought a new agenda and wrote "meet with new principal" under the 17th. Yes I am off to my first meeting of the year today.

It has been a good summer.....it was a summer of rambling around.. and navel gazing ... meeting new friends .. meeting up with some old ones.

I think in an odd way I did a lot of growing up this summer. It was due dontcha think?!! In the last few weeks I have been having "epiphanies" for lack of a better word. I need to process them a bit .. flesh them out.. clean up the edges.... make sense of it all.......... and then who knows .. maybe share it here..

For now I will pack up my book bag and head off to my first meeting of the year

Sad News

I thought some of you who read here would like to know Warren's mother died this weekend.


I am posting this because I felt some of you might want to know....... and because Warren and I have been "negotiating" friendship over the past couple of weeks. As his friend I felt I could and would make the announcement.

Death leaves a heartache
no one can heal;
Love leaves a memory no
one can steal

Intimacy

I have been quiet lately ...Like an addict I have been trying to rid my body of the toxic chemicals that have been coursing through my system. I have been doing a lot of navel gazing....... and soul searching. And - if you are interested - I don't believe I am anywhere near done.

For those of you young 'uns who can not ever imagine not being sexually active - or sexually intimate with the love of your life...... (like so many over on FetLife) let me tell you ...... from experience .. there comes a time when one or both partners become "disinterested" for a variety of reasons.

The one thing I do know about myself is that I need/require/desire sexual intimacy........ in whatever form it can take. It doesn't have to be intercourse.. but my god .. there had better be some form of intimacy .. otherwise the demons in my head start their song and dance routine... and then wait for it............ this woman is gonna spiral down a long way into "I am old. I am not desirable. I am ugly"... and on and on the voices go.

I am sick to death of the young 'uns saying that they could live without intimacy if their partners couldn't / wouldn't .......... I would like to see them try it.. not for a weekend - but for months on end. Trust me...... they will start doubting their own self........ it is hard not to. And it bugs me that they believe there will always be some form of intimacy. Not so. When one loses their sexual drive...... the next to follow (in my humble opinion - and experience) is the snuggles and intimate touching. Loss of sexual drive usually means eventually the vanilla snuggles follow... and maybe even the beatings - which (for me anyway) tend to be a form of foreplay.

So don't sit there with your high and mighty attitude and tsk tsk at me for saying that I can not .. nor will I .. live without some form of intimacy. And yes .. shock!! shock !!,,, I will probably land up walking away if nothing is done to scratch the itch I have. (and if you think that makes me a bitch - so be it! I need to hear "I love you" I need to hear "you are sexy or sensous or just plain damn "you look good tonite" without it ... the world becomes a very dreary place)

And that became a major problem for me in "bottoming" - the total lack of any sort of sexual connection. Someone asked me in a hushed whisper once - at the beginning of my time with the 2 Sirs - if he EVER got aroused. At first I was shocked by the question....... and shocked that I didn't have a clue. And then I started to pay attention....... and I have to say ...... No I don't think he did ever get sexually aroused from playing with me. And then..... while I was away visiting the Heron Clan... I realized I didn't get sexually aroused by him......... not in the standard way. Oh the pain he gave me could get me there...... but that's not quite the same thing. There was no sexual connection between us....... and never would be - because he was married to the other Sir. I wouldn't allow it.......... not on my part anyway.

There may be all sorts of reasons for the sexual intimacy to dry up....... BUT.. I am a firm believer there still has to be some form of intimacy... some form of physical expression of the love and respect that you have for each other.

I may be wrong here..... but for me anyway........ intimacy is the life blood of a relationship....... without it ... the spirit starts to shrivel up and die....

A rose by any other name..

There was a discussion over on FetLife - on the group "Sadists and masochists"- that got me thinking...

The question put forth used the term "true masochist" and "true sadist". More than a few respondants took offense to the term "true"

I know I have more than once heard someone refer to me as a "true masochist" because I could/did have orgasms from pain. But what if I have an off day and don't have an orgasm - does that mean I lose the "true" from my label?? And why is it important anyway?? Do sadists like to brag they have found a "true masochist"?? Do masochists like to brag they have found a true Sadist????

Who benefits from these "truisms"?? Why are they important??? Too often I have heard whispers about who is or isn't a masochist.. or who is or isn't a player... or who is or isn't dominant??

Who cares???

Certainly not me! I just care what's inside someone.. their character...... as for the rest of it..

"A rose by any other name still smells as sweet"

The continuing saga

In case you hadn't figured it out... I am in kind of a funk......... feeling caught somewhere between a rock and a hard place.

A couple of months ago now I guess it is.. someone accused me of being afraid of relationships ending. I made a joke about it.. said I was getting really really good at the ending of relationships.. it was the beginnings that scared the shit out of me.

As the days are slowly ticking off into weeks....... days and weeks of being in limbo I guess it is........ I am realizing how true those words - spoken half in jest - were. I am more afraid of the beginnings than the endings.

In the beginning everything is exciting and promising and fun. My expectations are high....... (maybe others too - but I can only speak for myself) The honeymoon period where everything seems bright and shiny and new.... where promises are made .... and I let myself almost believe ........... almost.

Unfortunately it is my experience that most promises made are not kept. And I am the first to say it is probably due - in a large part - to my mistakes. People have great trouble dealing with my "coping strategies" ......... and these strategies tend to annoy or upset or - the worst of all - hurt them.

When this happens - this inevitable ending happens - I land up feeling I have failed.. am a failure. I land up feeling that beginnings aren't really for me... and that life would be much easier to deal with if I just skipped all the damn beginnings.

I am also discovering in this new journey - that I don't DO bottoming well. It feels way too much like "prostituting" myself for some pain. And lines get crossed.. and blurred.. and truthfully I get confused. I have been submissive for too much of my life and I struggle to understand that a Top does not have the same rights as a Dominant. Bottoming feels like some piece of clothing that just doesn't fit properly.. it wobbles here.. fits fine here.. and bulks out over here.

And so now I am faced with more decisions......... do I walk away from a lifestyle that has been part of who I am for over 20 years...... say goodbye - turn my back and saunter off into the sunset?? It is becoming more and more obvious to me that that is going to be my answer.......

I hate beginnings..........

Musing.......

For one reason or another, I have had some time to myself just recently. Time to sit lotus like and contemplate my belly button.

I have done some reviewing of things I know about myself..... cause ya see for the most part I know myself really really well.......... the good parts, the bad parts, the ugly parts. And I like to think for the most part I have to come to accept these parts as just being who I am.

The short list of my qualities (for good or bad) is ......

I am not a social being, I am painfully shy.

I am ferociously loyal to those I call "friend".

I am stubborn.

I am afraid of losing / giving up control.

I am very proud of where I am today.

I prefer the quiet of the country to the noise of the city - but I know I would miss the noise of the city if I couldn't visit it.

I am naive, and trusting - sometimes to a fault.

I cannot abide liars or cheaters - and like a dog with a bone - go after them until I usually fall exhausted by the wayside.

I have one great fear....... and that is hurting someone. I would rather absorb the hurt myself than make another suffer it.

I do NOT verbalize well, that is not to say I am a bad communicator - NO! not at all - I just can't speak the words that are in my heart. I write. That is what I do best, I write.

Someone once said to me " when you are weak, I will be there for you, When you are strong, I will admire you, When you laugh, I will share in your joy, and When you cry, I will hold you until it stops"

I have no idea where I was going when I started out on this "musing" all I know is that for now I have run out of words.

Hurdles

There are days that I wonder what the hell I am doing. At my age I should be happily contentedly rocking in a rocking chair smiling at my grandbabies.


Instead I am trying to make a new life for myself.

This bottoming thing has more hurdles than an Olympic event. On Saturday there was an event I had rsvp`d to. I was looking forward to going... sort of. It was to be my second event alone in 5 months.

For the most part I am a very shy person (especially at events where I am alone).... but like with so much of my life, I have strategies. First I contacted the organisers and asked if they needed "service submissives" ... having a job to do would help me overcome the uncomfortable feelings of being the shy wall flower... then as guests arrived - I diplomatically asked some that I knew really well - if they would be interested in whooping my ass.... no sensual play thank you very much.. just give me pain.

I must be a masochist for god's sakes - the number of rejections one gets when one is looking for a play partner !!! ughhhhhh it hurts

The serving worked well to help me break my ice.,. and feel comfortable.. needed.. and as though I fit in. Then I made myself join in conversations and even a silly lil game with a submissive who was tied to a tree. I laughed and chatted and for the most part felt comfortable within my own skin.

Later in the evening it was decided that to play with me .. it would probably take 3 or 4 tops... (to get even close to the pain levels I like) I will admit my ego was involved - 4 tops !!! wow what a rush. It was fun.. lots of laughter and good natured "poking the doms" .. and then....... are you all sitting down???!!

I switched.

Yes me.. I actually picked up a paddle and gave a friend some birthday spanks. Now don't anyone think that I am changing my status..... ain't gonna happen... I am submissive/masochist/bottom - whatever damn label applies - to my core.

The evening ended with my being invited back any time to act as a "service sub"
and a date for a girlie day out shopping..

I guess for now the rocking chair will sit in the corner and wait for that old lady to find it (cheeky grin)

Desire

The sun glinted off the steel - drawing my attention to the small blade almost hidden in the big strong hand.

My imagination felt it tracing patterns down my body, my heart pounded.. my breath caught in my throat.

The sun stopped glinting.. the blade disappeared

And the daydream spiraled upwards to the blue sky like a puff of smoke leaving me with a deep ache and desire

Random shots

Here are some random shots from my time with the Heron Clan - these are mostly "arty farty" pictures ..........

Never having attempted a picture through an airplane window.... I was surprised and pleased with the outcome... this was my arrival

Nothing like a welcome sign to make you feel at home

Just some of the gorgeous flowers on the back patio.

Little did I know when I took the picture of this stepping stone.. that the message inscribed would be one I would need when I got home.

View from the back patio.

Cally Cat - she looked at me as though I was the wicked witch of the west - kinda like my kids at school think of me :)

Just an attempt at night shots from the patio.