Archive for the 'anxiety' Category

Body Angst

I keep thinking that I should write here, write about something. I’ve been having a lot of body angst lately. While I think I look exceptionally good (for me) when clothed, I still despair over my naked body. I wish I had better known how likely it was that I’d be left with extra skin after the weight loss. My thighs often look like an old lady’s! Doing downward facing dog just makes everything loose hang down and grosses me out. Remind me never to get into that sort of position during sex with someone new.

It doesn’t help that my 40th birthday comes later this year.

Sigh.

I know I shouldn’t despair. And I’m certainly not saying I would not lose weight if I had it to do again. But it does make he hesitate to get naked in front of someone new.

I’ve toyed with the idea of plastic surgery – something I’ve always been somewhat against. Searching on the web, I found some pretty impressive results. I think I’d most like to get my boobs lifted, but I’m not sure if that entails cutting the nipples off then re-attaching at a more aesthetic point on the re-done breast. That idea just horrifies me. I like being able to feel my nipples. Another idea is to get the torso tightened.

Ultimately, I doubt I’d do this. It’s expensive, and I don’t think the risk of surgery (even if it’s a low risk) is worth taking for something purely cosmetic. But damn, I want to look good. I worked so hard to lose weight only to end up more uncomfortable naked than I ever was when I was fat. I feel a bit freakish when I look at my naked body lately.

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Reconnecting

It’s funny how after a period of time when I’ve felt disconnected or out of sync with MasterDoc, I find myself wanting him to assert his dominance during sex more than ever. There’s been a few times lately when I haven’t felt able to handle some things we’ve done. These are things that I’ve done in the past with no problem, but I’m going through a lot of sturm und drang as I acclimate to a new depression medication. (Several years on prozac and the damn drug seemed to stop working. I realize that happens frequently.) There was a time he decided to piss on me, and unlike my usual reaction of distaste but thinking his control over me is hot, I freaked out a little. I was downright belligerent even though my collar was on. I declined to use my vibe to come and just begged him to get it over with. I could see that I wasn’t in a mental state to handle it. In the end, I felt a little traumatized. (Meanwhile, he opted to piss on my ass as a way to soften the experience since he saw I was in distress.) Thankfully a good heart-to-heart talk later and I felt better. Gentlemen (Dominants in particular), saying you’re sorry after you’ve inadvertently and unintentionally freaked out your sub/lover is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign that you’re a decent human being who wants the pain and the anxiety connected with bdsm to be pleasurable for you both. (Or, at minimum, not traumatic.) A simple, “I’m sorry,” even though you haven’t done anything wrong per se, is the most amazing balm.

There were a couple of other times where, in the midst of our usual amazing sex, he said or did something that didn’t quite affect me in the usual way due to whatever mental state I was in. I think a large part of this is how I’ve reacted to the new medication. I find myself feeling very much NOT an exhibitionist. (Uh, like, hello where did Nadia go?!) I find myself not wanting strange guys to grope me. Things that I used to love I’m not into suddenly. I’m also very inclined to withdraw both physically and emotionally from many things. I am loath to leave the apartment these days. I have done an extraordinary job of the lesbian sheep dance – above and beyond my usual. (I’m still seeing the elegant, sexy, Mexican lady I started seeing late last year. We’ve finally made out – due to her making the first move!! And I’m the one with experience with women. Oy. Words can’t describe how frustrated I am with my fucked up self right now.) While I’m still kinky as anything, I’m much more one-on-one than I used to be. Granted, I think I’ve been moving in that direction for a while, but there’s still a part of me that wants to be an exhibitionist. I can feel it still in there. Just not right now.

I appreciate the fact that I can talk so openly about what’s going on with MasterDoc. He’s quite analytical, so I can discuss my being unsure what’s a true feeling of mine and what’s colored by adjusting to a new drug’s action on me. He’s calm and can take criticism. He wants me to talk to him. If it wasn’t for him asking me a few times, “Is there anything you want to discuss?” I wouldn’t have opened up.

After our talk, we reconnected with sex, and I felt myself wanting more than anything to melt into subspace and have him show his dominance over me. I found myself thinking about the fact that he still hasn’t pissed in my ass (something he’s threatened to do and I’ve dreaded). It wasn’t that him pissing on me was a wonderful thing, it’s that he has the control over me to make me want to do dirty and disgusting things to please him. While not everyone feels this way, I find it exquisite to be under someone’s control like that. Not just anyone’s control, but this man who I’ve served for about four and a half years now, who has proven himself to be someone I can truly look up to, but also someone who’s human. There are times he aggravates me (rest assured I aggravate him often too) and I disagree with him, but I respect that he’s a highly intelligent man capable of introspection. He’s an interesting person because he has a mean streak – and when I’m in subspace that’s a fabulous thing – but also a great desire to take care of those he loves. There’s tenderness, but also sometimes a picky critic.

And then there’s the lover who knows my buttons so well. He can still make me come from just grabbing my hair and saying something dominant to me. *fans self*

There was a moment last night when he told me to put his cock head against the inside of my cheek so he could slap my face and feel it through my cheek. This was after some deep throating, which I’m getting better at doing. I can hold it longer without gagging. Although, I think I would like to have one of those porny blow jobs where I’m on my knees and he’s fucking my face while standing up, the drool running down my chin.

I found myself craving to please him but I also admonished myself not to get upset over not being perfect. That’s an unattainable goal and giving myself angst over it will only cause grief. But I love the moments when I’m in subspace and absolutely worship him. While it sometimes sounds like submissives are in a constant state of worshipping their dominants I think that a healthy relationship also requires being able to see your dominant as a human with foibles. Dominants can’t be perfect any more than submissives can.

The main attraction of last night was him restraining my wrists to his bed frame and then fucking the living daylights out of me. I have long been a fan of some restraint during sex. It makes me feel that more vulnerable to him, which sets me off even more. I think my brain was scrambled by the end, but happily so.

I’ve been working on being more vocal – not in the way of sounds (I am quite a moaner and screamer) but in the way of saying hot things. Begging for his cock. Telling him I crave his cock up my ass in that moment.

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Knife Play

This week I’m on the emotional roller coaster that is my monthly struggle with premenstrual dysphoric disorder. I feel like I’m constantly working to rein in the anxiety and agitation that goes with it. Taking a benzodiazapine helps, and since this is the only time of the month I need any, I can take it without worrying about tolerance or addiction. But even with medication, the mood fluctuations still exist and need management.

When I got to spend some time alone with MasterDoc on Tuesday, I was hoping for lots of cuddles and petting. I needed soothing to deal with the craziness that happens to me biologically at this time. I’m certainly getting better at dealing with it on my own, and this was never more apparent than when our naked time together started with MasterDoc laying with his back to me telling me to play with his ass to help him get off.

Starting off with his orgasm is rare. After all, men usually get one orgasm for the evening (unless they’re still young enough to get it up two or more times). The agitated part of me wanted to whine that I wasn’t getting the attention I needed. But the rational part of my brain said, “Ok, considering all the times he puts your orgasm first, you really need to be agreeable and allow him his release first tonight. (Not to mention the fact that he’s the Dom.) Also, you know he will make sure you are taken care of. It might not be penis-in-vagina sex, but he won’t leave you without orgasm or cuddles by the time the night is through.”

I worked through my whiny feelings and I did manage to enjoy making him feel good. By now I know just how to knead the muscles in his thighs and buttocks to make him twitch with pleasure. I slowly worked my way to his asshole, eventually sliding a finger inside. As I did so, I tugged gently at the entire perimeter of the sphincter muscle that holds it closed, working the muscle so it would relax.

After several minutes, MasterDoc came and I’ve learned by now to keep up the stimulation until he is done coming and indicates that I should slowly work my fingers out of him. I’ve been instructed to keep the pressure towards the front wall, so that any semen in the tubes gets gradually pushed to the tip of his cock and out.

I had made it through a selfish fit without throwing a fit. MasterDoc surveyed the toys I had laid out. (It’s my responsibility to set up the bed for sex. I put down the throe, make sure we have lube, condoms, my collar, my cuffs and any toys I might suggest for the evening.) He had already been concocting a scene, and the blindfold I laid out was definitely part of it.

Once I was in my collar, cuffs and the blindfold, he connected the cuffs around a pole that makes up part of the headboard. My arms were over my head now, and unless I was naughty and tried to uncuff myself, I was unable to use my hands. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

I tried to eroticize being left helpless. I felt excited wondering what would come next. After his return, he took a moment to raise the blindfold and show me what he had ready for play. My heart beat faster when I saw it was one of the knives from my kitchen knife collection. It was a small one, but I knew it could certainly cut me if used the right way. MasterDoc put the blindfold back over my eyes and the anxiety was something else!

You see, I have a bit of a knife phobia. I can handle using one myself, but if someone else is standing near me holding one (like those times when you start to talk with whomever is making dinner and they have a knife in their hand, which sometimes gets waved around expressively because it’s just there in their hand already) I get ridiculously flinchy. I could be five feet away but I’ll get anxious and hypervigilant of the knife’s location.

I knew that knife play, for me, would be very much about playing with my fears. (And, indeed, I had put the request in my wishing box.) I wasn’t as interested in cutting, although that can be part of knife play. Of course, since my brain chemistry was already rioting due to the PMDD, my phobia led me through some moments of pure terror that evening as MasterDoc ran the knife gently over my skin. He’d talk about making an incision on my inner thigh and I probably begged him not to. While the terror I felt was real, it was more like titillation as my subconscious knew I was ultimately safe. Even if MasterDoc did cut me, it would be careful and deliberate. And as a doctor he’d do anything necessary to prevent possible infection or complications.

I like fear play with someone I trust because there’s a certain exhilaration that occurs. I felt a little delirious with fear, but it most likely made my pussy wet. I’ve forgotten how exactly he made me come that night, but I came very hard, squirting a little bit.

In the aftermath, MasterDoc enjoyed showing me that there were in fact TWO knives. The sharp one he showed me, and a regular blunt dinner knife, which he used most often to run over my skin. The mind fuck was a success. My brain was convinced he was only using the sharp one.

I got the cuddles and petting I needed after the scene. And while I would have thought this week would be the worst time for something that intense, it was pretty amazing. I really loved it.

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Brimstone Reflections, Part I

We went away to a kink event called Brimstone this weekend. I had a fabulous time. DeeDee went with her boyfriend, and I went with MasterDoc (the four of us drove down together).

Unfortunately I started off the weekend feeling neglected. MasterDoc had been busy for about four nights in a row, and it just coincided with me being a bit depressed. I was very difficult with him on Friday. But we talked and worked it out, as we always do. This weekend someone left a comment on one of my slightly older posts criticizing my being with MasterDoc. I approved the comment, this person is entitled to their opinion, but I think they don’t really see the fullness of my life with MasterDoc. (And, incidentally, while that’s his scene name he does not see himself as a Master and he’s definitely not looking for a slave. We both happily identify as Dom or sub, respectively.)

It begs the question, how full of a story does a sex blog tell? I use this like a diary sometimes, to sort out thoughts and feelings by writing about them. I vent when things are frustrating. There’s many, many mundane moments of our lives not caught here, as well as tender moments. I think it’s impossible for someone to know what my relationship is like just from reading the blog. Like any couple, we have ups and downs, but unlike many “vanilla” couples we talk, talk, talk and look for solutions. We both own when it’s our own mishegas causing the problem. We both work on becoming better partners to each other, and over time we have.

I think it’s funny when people are frustrated with their partner in a vanilla relationship it’s seen as part of having a relationship. But when a kinkster (particularly one on the bottom side of the dynamic) complains then it’s assumed they’re being abused. Being at this event this weekend brought home the fact that the reality of bdsm is so very different than the fantasy. And people who are experienced kinksters know this. I also noticed that kink is a very wide playing field, and what one person does and enjoys is not what the next person does and enjoys. Perhaps part of the problem with DeeDee’s family’s concerns is that they have read about the play I do with MasterDoc here and assume that it’s exactly what he and DeeDee to together. It’s not. I’m telling my story. I’m not telling hers. She may have a role in it, but I don’t presume to represent her. I’m quite a bit more fond of pain than DeeDee is, and of course MasterDoc’s play with her differs in this respect.

There’s also the problem with terms in bdsm having different meanings than terms outside of the community. When I say I got a beating, I do not mean that MasterDoc came at me in anger pummeling me with his fists. This has never happened and never will. It means he uses implements he has used in the past and has great control over. It means he watches my reactions carefully and keeps the beating at a level I can process. The end result is not trauma, but a fabulous release of endorphins. I’m not scared of MasterDoc ever being truly violent with me. He never hits in anger. He has fantastic self-control emotionally, which is perfect for someone who wants to dominate.

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Bullshit, Part II

On the other end of the irritating spectrum is the fact that the guy who sexually assaulted me is still denying it. (Description here, despite his trying to claim I deleted it off my blog.)  I wrote about my situation, not naming him of course, on Good Vibrations’ blog because I think more discussion needs to happen around non-consensual acts in a community that prides itself on consent. He commented (outing himself!?) denying that anything non-consensual happened. GV got nervous, so I offered to re-write the post. The original can now be found on Kitty Stryker’s blog. He also tried to leave a comment here, but I don’t feel I owe this man any airtime in my space.

It’s disgusting that this man still refuses to take responsibility for his actions. I feel certain that there could be clear video and audio footage of the incident – of me telling him to take the speculum out because it hurt and his continuing to hurt me instead – and he’d still deny responsibility. I don’t expect any different from him, but he should realize that he’s not going to shut me up about what I KNOW happened.

It’s also disgusting that it seems the organizers of the Geeky Kink Event told him that I sent them information on him. Hey, it was within their rights to decide to keep him teaching a class, but to tell him that his victim reported him? What the fuck? They could have very well put me in danger. So far harassing comments denying his responsibility are all that he’s done, but they didn’t know what might happen. I’m still waiting for an explanation for this. MasterDoc contacted them and so far they don’t seem to have anything to say for themselves.

I’m refraining from naming the con that approached me discreetly and respectfully earlier this year and decided to ban the asshole. Hopefully it drives him nuts to not know who will be denying his application to teach next year. I had hoped that maybe people were becoming more concerned with consent and better able to handle complaints since things were handled so beautifully with this con. Unfortunately, it seems I can be sure of that with only one grouping. As for the Geeky Kink Event, if you’re a survivor don’t approach them as they clearly won’t honor your privacy one iota (nor worry about your safety). And if the guy who assaulted me is to be believed, apparently they feel qualified to decide if I was assaulted or not.

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Trying New Things

I think that maybe providing a play-by-play narrative of our sexual encounters has gotten old. (For me at least!) But there’s usually some tidbit that is interesting or something I can expound upon. Despite over four years of kinky stuff, we still find new things to do!

Last night he used Icy Hot on my pussy for the first time. I had been feeling a little left out since he tried it on other ladies months ago. I think ultimately I liked it, but certainly there were moments when my cunt felt like it was on fire. The heat and pain would fluctuate. MasterDoc got ice cubes to cool it down, but for me cold is more painful than hot. I’d rather have the fiery labia than the sharp shock of cold on them.

He started off with some on my nipples; the sensation there was minimal. He threatened to pull back the clitoral hood and slap some right on to my clit, but it was initially a fake out and he rubbed some in to my labia.

It tingles, then it flares up. He applied more a little later and I paid attention to the ever changing sensations, trying to decide if I liked it or not. At times, it felt so inflamed that I imagined my labia to be greatly swollen. I suppose the thing that made me decide I ultimately liked the sensation was when he fucked me. My pussy was extra sensitive – on the outside. MasterDoc was careful not to get more than an incidental amount of Icy Hot inside. (Thank you, Sir!)

It’s funny, because while I can say that my sensitivity was heightened, I don’t know if I could quantify my orgasms as “better than” so much as “also fabulous.” I’m so damn lucky that I can be blase about the orgasms I have. I wish all the women reading this could have the same orgasms I do. You all deserve it.

The night before he did a wee bit of breath play while getting me warmed up. I tried to go with it as he pressed his hand against my throat slowing the flow of blood to my brain. But just as things started to get fuzzy I panicked. He released my throat. He knows that I have anxiety around not being able to breathe, and while it’s intriguing to think of him having such control over me as to make me pass out, I think odds are I’ll panic whenever close.

A good Dom will understand their sub’s anxieties and work around them or work on improving them. Traumatizing me would not have a positive end result, but gradually working towards something he wants me able to handle could ultimately lead me into new experiences.

Alas, I still hate the idea of piss play. I don’t find it hot. He called me into his room yesterday to see a video that Blondie had done in her porn days which included a lot of piss. Ugh. I lucked out when the streaming video froze on his computer. I didn’t want to have to watch all 30 minutes of it.

But again, while I hate it, there is something hot about being made to do it. There’s also a lot of grossness to being made to do it! Thankfully, he doesn’t do the piss play thing often.

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A Geeky and Kinky Weekend

MasterDoc and I are home from the Geeky Kink Event. The idea of geekiness and kinkiness in one weekend was too much to resist.

Unfortunately, there were few sessions we were interested in attending – either they were too basic for us (such as the anatomy of masturbation) or just not well run. I can’t speak on the myriad sessions I skipped, but that was our general view. Also I run into the problem that I’m often not a geek for things that make up “geeky” events. I don’t watch Dr. Who (though I love Torchwood), or Buffy, or anime. I don’t know how to play many of the games geeks play. I needed a nice corner with Monty Python and popular music geeks to hang with.

I still had a good time. Our friend V. was there for the weekend with her girlfriend and I got to have lunch with them on Saturday. Shane was there, spending some time running (or attempting to run) games in the gaming room, but mostly spending time with an ex who had come along to hang out. (Alas, I did not get naughty naked time with Shane this weekend.) We met a cute, nice young woman who MasterDoc met on fetlife – she’s eager to become a librarian. After my initial advice of, “Don’t do it!,’ I followed that with, “Just kidding. But are you ready for a life of poverty?” It’s funny, I love my work in many, many ways, but knowing how tight the job market is, how difficult and stressful it can be doing more with less after massive budget cuts, I’m not as eager to encourage others into the profession. The profession itself is quite honorable – ensuring access to information to all citizens, regardless of income. (I speak from a public libraries point of view.) Like any customer-service kind of job, you deal with total assholes, but I’d say most people are at least ok to deal with, and others are just lovely.

Plus I get to buy books with money that isn’t mine. That’s awesome.

Friday night in the dungeon MasterDoc gave me a sybian ride – probably the first one I’ve had in months. Me and the sybian have been a little at odds with each other. Despite the incredible orgasms it can give me, I’ve gotten kinda sick of the machine as it eats up too much of MasterDoc’s time at parties. We put our differences aside, however, and I shrieked uncontrollably as I came. I find that I reach a point where I’m so out of breath I think I want it to stop, but then realize how good it feels and don’t want it to stop.

MasterDoc lay with me for a little while in the aftercare room down the hall. It was lovely to have an adorable young butch dyke offer something sweet to eat to help me recover. If I wasn’t such a scaredy cat at hitting on people I should have said she’s the something sweet I’d like. Since the mattresses were taken when we got there we ended up on a blanket on the hard floor. Oh well. The set up of water and snacks was such a good idea – every event should have an aftercare room.

All weekend, I was drooling over all the adorable baby dyke butches around me. I want one! My birthday’s coming up, will someone remember that for me? Mmkay? I got the impression that many of them were subs (collars being a clue) so I suppose I’m not really what they’d want. But if there’s a toppy, boyish, lesbian out there who’s interested, drop me a line. As much as I have a thing for transmen, I find that I prefer my butch lesbians to be boyish rather than manly.

It was fascinating to just people watch at the event. Lots of people wore costumes – Drs. Who and Horrible were pretty popular. One guy dressed as Dr. Horrible on Friday evening looked a great deal like NPH. There was a lot of steampunk aesthetic of course. There were sexy ladies walking around half naked, and even a few guys in that state. The creativity and gender bending was a lot of fun.  Since it was a geek event, there was a preponderance of people who were perhaps social skills-impaired (or style-impaired), as well as a seemingly large percentage of the morbidly obese. (In costumes such as a Hogwarts school girl. Many things were NOT fun to see too. But I do my best to reserve judgement and support the idea that everyone deserves the right to dress up, or get naked in play space.)

We ran into a geeky, kinky woman we know who we haven’t seen in years. She didn’t recognize us because we’ve both lost weight and she had gained a little (in curves really, not fat, her tits looked amazing). MasterDoc finally got the opportunity to give her a sybian ride on Saturday night. I got my second one of the weekend that night as well, and squirted a fair amount. I hadn’t noticed Shane and his ex arrive in the dungeon because I was too busy coming.

The black cloud of the weekend was seeing the guy who sexually assaulted me several years ago. I knew he was going to be there since he was slated to teach one of the sessions (just the person you want to give some sort of legitimacy to by having them present at your event, no?) but it was still a shock and trigger when we went to the hotel bar for our free drink and there he was. I felt panicked and grabbed MasterDoc to tell him who was there. We got our drinks and sat down away from the douchebag and the poor unfortunate woman he undoubtedly got to pay for his hotel room. I had some PTSD to deal with when we hung out in our room waiting for dinner to be delivered.

He later appeared in the dungeon while MasterDoc was giving sybian rides, but I had popped a xanax by that time. He steered clear of me (if he recognizes me), I steered clear of him. Thankfully, I only saw him those two times. I was hoping I’d luck out and not see him at all. As I carried our heavy toybag down the hall Saturday night, I had a momentary fantasy of coming across him and feigning an accidental plowing into him with the bag. I’d say, “Oops. That was an accident. Don’t worry, it was just a bad thing that happened to two good people.” (He fed me that line while refusing to take responsibility for his actions after the assault.)

The shopping was fun – I mostly window shopped but I also bought a waist cincher that fits me. I need to sell off the two larger corsets I have. V. would like to try them on and maybe buy them from me. Fingers crossed they fit her. The hotel room had a full length mirror, and I rarely look in one, but I had to gaze at my transformed body for a bit. I understood how it is that people have told me I look even taller now. I do somehow. I guess because I’m narrower than before but still every bit as tall.

My new thinness gave me a certain boost of confidence, but my skin heard it was a geek event and decided to have a small breakout. Gee, thanks skin! Nothing like a big, red, cystic zit on the side of my neck, eh? There were a couple of equally red but much smaller pimples on my face. My bangs mostly hid those though.

Overall there were lots of nice and interesting people there. We didn’t end up playing with anyone we didn’t know (with the exception of MasterDoc giving a few ladies sybian rides). Our geekiness does translate into a little social awkwardness too. DeeDee is the social butterfly, but she wasn’t with us. I got to see intense scenes – one that I would NOT want to do myself, but it was intense and gripping to watch. A Dom used a staple gun to shoot staples into his subs upper arms. Youch. I cringed repeatedly, hopefully they didn’t notice or didn’t mind the reaction. There was a long-lasting flogging and spanking that was fun to watch too. MasterDoc gave me a caning before Saturday’s sybian ride, but that was our only bdsm play over the weekend.

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The Good and The Sad

I’m even more behind in blogging than usual. Over a week ago, MasterDoc and I did a show for the first time in a long time. It was a guy we had had over before, and like before I finished the scene with giving our guest a prostate massage until he came all over my tits. I have a few drafts, barely started, of posts about sexual things.

I’ve had some fantastic sex with MasterDoc. I also had Shane over last week (rowr); we hung out and again had awesome sex. I rode him, and when he’d reach his fingers to rub my clit I would grab my ankles and lean back a little. I think that’s when I came the hardest.

But the terrible part is, despite great sex, despite orgasms that blew my mind, I was mired in a severe depression for a few days.

This sucker was the type to blow all my usual depressions out of the water. When I was a teen, I was hospitalized for three months with depression. This felt like that sort of depression.

I thought I was all over this deep of an illness. I had matured, gotten medicated and better able to handle mood issues. But for the first time in well over a decade, I had fears of being hospitalized again.

I’m usually quite comfortable discussing depression. I feel that if it’s not talked about it remains mysterious and strange for those who aren’t mentally ill. But this time around I felt shame. I felt shame that I am so fucked up that I’m technically one of those people who are being made fun of when people joke about crazy people. (Pisses me off that if I had cancer or diabetes or some-such, the teasing would be just shocking to everyone and the jokers would be shamed.) I struggled with simply taking care of myself, which of course makes my submissive duties much, much harder. I felt ashamed that I couldn’t be a fully effective submissive.

I get pissed off that my illness could be used against me when I speak out about the times I was raped or sexually assaulted. My being mentally ill doesn’t mean those things didn’t happen, weren’t traumatic (to even an ordinary, mentally fit person) and doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be taken seriously. It’s so easy to take advantage of the mentally ill. People don’t take us seriously. We doubt ourselves a lot. Even when I’m not in an ill state, having “crazy” thrown at me (like after I was assaulted) stings like a motherfucker.

Usually, when I’m depressed I feel sad, out of sorts, have a hard time functioning. But this Friday-Sunday it was beyond that. I spent time with MasterDoc Saturday night, and despite amazing (truly AMAZING) orgasms, I cried as we cuddled after. I just couldn’t stop the tears. He’s one of the very few people I can relax around and just go with what’s going on. And it is amazing how he lets me cry and is just there for me.

On Friday, I felt like my chosen family wasn’t taking the severity of my depression seriously. But a talk with my friend DivaSub made me realize something – I have gotten very, very good at hiding just how mentally ill I can be. That conversation reminded me of one in high school with my best friend. I couldn’t understand how people didn’t know that I was totally miserable and anxious enough for regular panic attacks. My friend pointed out to me that I always seemed happy. I have become TOO good at not letting people know what’s going on inside. I think MasterDoc is the only person who I will let my guard down around and cry because of depression.

Let me explain for those who haven’t experienced it – it’s not that I’m sad 24/7 when I’m depressed. I have ups and downs, but my mood swings wildly and the downs are more frequent and much deeper than normal. I have anxiety that makes me not want to leave the house. I fear that the careful control I have will break down and I’ll be crazy in public. So the best thing to do is avoid being out of the house as much as possible.

I fear getting so mentally ill that I have to take a break from work. I fear that everyone will know then that I’m ill.

I hate the fact that I feel shame over this. I can’t control it. I’m not a bad person. But I have bouts when I’m quite depressed, when my brain isn’t working right and I can’t muster energy for basic functions. I’m sad and teary often. Please remember though, most of the time I feel quite mentally stable. (As I feel right now.) And this is probably true for a great many mentally ill people.

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We Actually Went Out

My extreme homebodiness gave me a little reprieve Friday night. I didn’t feel averse to going out, and got to go out with MasterDoc for the first time in a while. (DeeDee was unfortunately sick and stayed home.) For a total change of pace, we started the night in the bdsm club. There was a presentation arranged by a local group before the club opened. The topic sounded interesting and so we went. Hey, how bad can a talk and demonstration of kinky stuff be?

Now I won’t name names because I don’t want to be bitchy towards the person who presented or the people who arranged it. But despite good info and good demonstrations (the demo model was just adorable and they had great chemistry) the presentation was amazingly tedious. I didn’t know anyone could possibly make bdsm THAT boring. I wanted to hit my head against the wall. I pictured the episode of The Young Ones (called “Boring”) where Rik breaks down sobbing because Neil the hippie is taking a long time to explain something and it’s horribly boring. I felt like Rik.

The hour or so of lecture was mostly painful, but even after we didn’t opt to stay at the club. We rarely go to this club because although they have lots of bdsm equipment, there’s no sex allowed. (NYC law. No alcohol either.) MasterDoc and I both like our bdsm with sex ultimately.

We went to the usual swing club. It was fairly busy when we got there, and became even busier later. MasterDoc nearly got distracted by the ladies around us but then remembered that the best way to handle me is to make me come first. After that I’m pretty mellow for the rest of the evening. We commandeered the large bed and MasterDoc went down on me. I strangely had a strong negative reaction to this. I’m not big on oral these days. I preferred it to sex when I was much younger, but now I’d rather have the sex. And since we were in public, I was in my collar and people were watching, it made me uncomfortable to have MasterDoc going something that seems like servicing me. While he and I are both of the opinion that if a Dom wants to eat pussy, then (s)he should do as (s)he damn well wishes. The act itself isn’t necessarily submissive. But I know that other people might see it differently, and I felt uncomfortable having my Dom seem less domly in public. I couldn’t come even though I tried to close my eyes and focus on the sensations of his tongue.

We took a break, and MasterDoc said that it’s ok, we weren’t on a schedule. I explained to him my reaction, and I don’t think he expected that to be the issue at all. He had me suck his cock, and I was better able to get into subspace and enjoy myself then. He got into Dom mode and started making me gag on his cock. I loved it. Saliva was running out of my mouth. He slapped his cock against my face and then shoved me down on it again. I love this sort of play lately. One time he gagged me enough that I was feeling kinda floaty by the time I got air in. I like when it gets that way. My jaw became a bit sore, but I wanted to make him feel good and to perform well in front of the people around us.

Our friend Veronica came in and started playing with a couple of guys. She’s cute so it’s quite nice to see her naked and fooling around. MasterDoc flipped me over at one point, and made me come by slapping my ass and cunt. It felt good to come. My eyes clenched shut and the world around me receded. I did wonder to myself if my orgasm faces were making any of the men around me hot. As I think I’ve said before, while I love knowing there’s an audience, I mostly prefer not to look at them.

I sucked MasterDoc’s cock hard again. (Complete with more choking. I think both of us like it when he’s all rough and dominant with me with an audience. While heading out for the evening, I got hot thinking about being his dirty slut.) He fucked me from behind, and goddamn did I come! He surprised me with lots of intense pounding. For a moment I thought the pain of my pummeled cervix would be too much, but then I came some more and forgot about it. It actually might have added to the experience. I could feel my tender cervix for hours after.

The club was unusually busy, and the owner pressed MasterDoc and I into service with hanging up coats and giving tours. I grinned as MasterDoc got to lead around a pack of attractive women. He had turned on the charm and it was cute to watch. Despite my feeling shy, MasterDoc made me help out and give a tour. It went okay as the couple was nice. The woman was quite heavy, and yet I thought she was kinda sexy. Of course, I think more than a few people thought we worked there by the end of the evening.

MasterDoc sat among the lovely ladies he gave the tour to earlier. A couple of people asked what’s in our large toybag. MasterDoc showed them. One of the ladies commented on how he has a pretty woman (me) and that he’s lucky. I grinned as this triggered his, “She’s the lucky one” story.

MasterDoc rightly points out that how he gets attractive women is by honestly believing that the woman is the lucky one to be with HIM. With some men this would be delusional, but with MasterDoc it’s true – I’m lucky to be with him. (He will admit he’s a lucky man to have me and DeeDee.) He may look unassuming, but he is quite extraordinary. And he knows it. (He also knows he’s not perfect.)

The club was so unusually crowded that we didn’t end up playing any more. As we drove home, we passed a large, hipster bowling place and I thought to myself – I’d had a MUCH better night than going bowling could possibly be. This made me smile.

Even though my collar was off, I addressed MasterDoc as Sir at one point. I’m not required to call him Sir unless he issues a direct order OR my collar is on. But I think it’s good when it slips out on its own. While I’m glad MasterDoc is not heavy on protocol, I wonder if sometimes it would be better for me to have to be a bit more respectful. On the other hand, until he got to know me and how I love to tease those I love, it was a bit difficult to get away with teasing.

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Pushing Limits, Part I

As you know, I’ve been finding it hard to find time to write. And if it’s not time I’m looking for, it’s motivation. I find that this week in particular has been busy with work (and work-related stress), chores around the house, and assorted other bits and pieces. To top it all off, I have to work today, Sunday, for a few hours. It feels like a sub’s and a librarian’s work is never done.

This is partially (but only partially!) down to perception. I have had some stellar time alone with MasterDoc this week. But I find when I truly have downtime, that I just want to do mindless stuff like watch a show, or play The Sims. Writing seems beyond my energy level.

But before I head off to work today, I vowed to try to get at least one blog entry written. So here we go.

Yesterday, I was really craving kink. It was funny because MasterDoc was in a totally cuddly mood. I think other than caning and such, he doesn’t necessarily push my limits as often lately. He managed to get himself into the mood talking dirty to me. And I got to experience some kink that really did push my limits.

He started talking about humiliating things he could do to me. And just the idea of most of it pushed my limits. I hoped that some of these ideas would only amount to talking, but it seems he wanted to give me what I wanted – kink.

He took me into the bathroom to piss on me. I find that piss play is something I truly hate doing, but I kinda like him being dominant and making me do it. I hesitated on taking my vibe along, because I wasn’t feeling horny at the idea of his piss. He pointed out that it was up to me, but why not get an orgasm out of it? I relented and grabbed it on the way out the bedroom door.

He had me kneel in the tub. He grabbed the closest breast and started slapping his cock against it. “See, if I slap it hard enough it keeps my cock from getting aroused.” A frequent (male) piss Dom problem is getting aroused by the idea and then being unable to pee thanks to the hard on. (I always hope for a hard on.)

“Get that other tit over here.” He said and I turned towards him. He continued to play with my tits, call me his piss whore and tell me I could come when I felt his piss. I ran the vibe over my clit, not sure if I could get aroused enough to come. But then the whole thing is arousing despite being totally repulsive at the same time. I suppose it’s a part of submission/masochism that is difficult to understand. “I don’t want to do that thing, but I want you to make me, because your making me is hot.”

So he pissed on my tits, and I came. I buried my face in his tummy as best I could. I feel embarrassed to be coming at that point. It always feels like he has the bottomless bladder. When he pees on me, it feels like it goes on for several minutes. Towards the end, I couldn’t come anymore so I turned my head towards the wall in humiliation, because now I was just experiencing him peeing on me without the distraction of an orgasm.

He was in a merry mood after, and went to wash his hands. I couldn’t wait to get the piss soaked vibrator put down and the tub water running to clean myself off. I learned the hard way one time that you need to do more than rinse, you need to use soap and scrub slightly. And you need to remember that your hands have been pissed all over. One time, I rinsed my body well but forgot my hands and had to smell his pee all evening. Yuck. This time, I scrubbed and rinsed carefully.

I think one of the downsides to piss play is that the aftercare happens after a lapse. I’m left alone to rinse off, and getting wet inevitably means I feel a chill after. (Especially when I walk in the bedroom and he has turned up the air conditioning.) I think I’m still processing the experience whereas he’s been distracted by other things while waiting for me. I need a warm blanket and some adoring cuddles after piss play. While he can humiliate me as my Dom, I need reassurance after that he loves me even if I’m his filthy piss slut.

After a little recovery under a sheet to keep warm, he moved on to phase two. I had so hoped he wasn’t serious about phase two.

He gave me the kneepads. He told me to put them on and get the leash. Lately he not only has me wear my collar, but also wrist cuffs during play. I like it, but I find it much easier to be little miss subby when it’s just him around. (Or I can usually deal with him making me crawl into DeeDee to say hello.) The catch of this bit of impending puppy play? DeeDee and her other serious boyfriend were in the living room watching tv. MasterDoc instructed me to crawl into the living room, bounce around like a playful puppy, bark and pant. My brain could NOT get my head around doing something so embarrassing in front of DeeDee’s other boyfriend.

Now, you need to know that her other boyfriend is kinky too, so none of this would make either DeeDee or her boyfriend freak out. I was the only one freaking out. I crawled as far as the curtain that hangs over the entrance of the living room to keep air conditioning in. I could not make myself go any farther. I stayed hidden behind the curtain. I told MasterDoc it would be easier if he went with me, but he wanted me to go alone. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

In doggy fashion, I turned to him and whimpered and whined like any dog would when faced with something they really didn’t want to do. This didn’t produce pity unfortunately. He got the riding crop and smacked my ass until I crawled in. I hung my head down nearly the entire time. I could get through the embarrassment if I didn’t have to look at the people in the living room. He told me to lift my head and pant, and I simultaneously closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see. Ultimately, the embarrassment happened. But MasterDoc said I got a C- for that performance and he was a little annoyed with his misbehaving little bitch. Meanwhile DeeDee and her gentleman said, “Awww.” when the puppy came in. They thought it was cute.

He led me by leash back to the bedroom. I crawled until I was in the room. It’s funny, but I can’t recall the less stressful bits right now. I know I asked for aftercare. He hadn’t thought that scene would need aftercare, but I pointed out that it was a very intense scene for me. I got some cuddles.

End of Part I

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