Archive for the 'musings' Category

Don’t You All Wish You Were MasterDoc?

Published on August 1, 2010 in D/s, DeeDee, Uncategorized, bdsm, blow jobs, masochism, musings, orgasm on command, shio, spanking, squirting, submissive and threesome. 0 Comments

I’ve had a busy weekend, so I’m a little behind in posting here. It gets hard to go back two nights and remember what naughtiness you got up to when you have last night to write about as well. But I will strive to keep this in chronological order as I like keeping it that way.

While talking to MasterDoc the other day about how well counting calories in my phone app has helped me lose weight (about 30 lbs so far!), he pointed out that I’m a “chronicler” – I like keeping lists and details of things and so this is a good way for me to go about it. This is quite true. I found my stash of diaries from high school while cleaning out stuff before moving, and I kept them faithfully for most of the last couple of years of high school. In one, I have a list of every time I had sex with my first boyfriend up until I ran out of room and the novelty of being sexually active wore off. I also kept a spreadsheet of the guys (and gals) I’ve fucked until last year or so, when the list being taken over by “random guy” from when we go out to swing clubs made me decide to give it up. I like making lists. I like blogging, I like chronicling.

So here I am chronicling another naughty night with MasterDoc and DeeDee. There was talk of going out to the swing club, but ultimately we stayed in. I was feeling pretty equally enthusiastic about both options. We haven’t been to the swing club in quite a while, but staying in with my kinky “family” was a wonderful option as well.

While MasterDoc has complimented me many times recently on how calmly I handle things now compared to how I used to, I did have a moment of not handling things as well that night. I got frustrated because when we fool around in the living room, I’m always the one to gather condoms, lube, toys, etc. while MasterDoc and DeeDee get started fooling around. Then being expected to join in when I was just in practical, get things gathered mode is really difficult. So I spoke up. And MasterDoc had DeeDee get some of the stuff for us. It’s not that I don’t want the two of them fooling around, it’s just that I feel left out and like I have to jump into something that I’m not yet in the right mindset for. It feels unfair to always be the one doing the work, although I realize that originally it was because I knew where everything is and DeeDee didn’t.

But after that little bit of expressed frustration (and on some level I don’t think it’s a problem to speak up about it – otherwise I will end up resentful. He just thinks I should be patient and talk about it later, I think I need to speak up in the moment or I’ll not be able to enjoy the whole evening) things moved forward.

MasterDoc is a very, very lucky man. I blew him while DeeDee made out with him, and he did more of the cock choking we’ve been into lately. Hot! DeeDee also thought it was hot to watch. She’s followed my lead and discovered the joys of rough sex porn and how cock choking, with the right person, can be fucking hot. It helps when you’re a little dry mouthed as well, as the saliva really starts flowing after having a cock at the back of your throat.

MasterDoc had us trade off, and he’s to the point now where he acknowledges that he’s a very lucky man to have us. This is a wonderful thing to hear. In all his domliness he’s always emphasized how lucky we are (and we are, and according to MasterDoc this is a key to getting women – genuinely thinking that they (the women) are the lucky ones. Confidence is hot.) I’m sure there are men out there reading this who are gobsmacked at the idea of two sexy, slutty women pleasuring them at once. This is par for the course for MasterDoc. We don’t call his apartment “MasterDoc’s Home for Wayward Women” for nothing.

I feel the need to put in here the fact that earlier in the day, MasterDoc had a bdsm encounter with another woman. He’s such a dog. He likes to say that he has “terminal dogoma.” The man is a super slut.

He enjoyed a couple of rounds of heavy blow job action before turning the tables on us. He asked if I wanted to be beaten before he fucked me, and well, pervert masochist that I am I said yes. He gave me many good ass smacks with the riding crop. He had DeeDee blow him while doing this, and then he eventually moved to fingering me (and somehow, as I wasn’t looking in their direction he fingered DeeDee too) he gave permission to come and we both came long and loud. It takes a skilled man (a super slut!) to be able to get two women off at once like that. He makes me very happy indeed.

We didn’t end up fucking, but I think he made me come again… it’s fuzzy at this point. Ah yes! He fingered me to a squirting orgasm while DeeDee blew him. DeeDee got distracted reading his copy of “The Sensuous Man” (I asked MasterDoc why he’s reading that as he could write it!) and she kept telling us fun stuff the guy said in the book. (Ah, from back in the pre-HIV era when things were so much more liberal. I was born at the wrong time.) MasterDoc distracted me by stroking my face in that way that always makes me melt and slip into subspace. DeeDee asked me a question, but I was too far away to answer. MasterDoc told her this so she didn’t expect me to be coherent. He and I have such chemistry these days that he can fire me up with just a stroke of the cheek, or a grasp of my hair.

More sex would have been fun, but I was so tired. I went to bed a little later and had some work the next day. MasterDoc and DeeDee most likely had fun and freaky sex while I was at work. *sigh* I don’t begrudge them having it, I just bemoan my having to be at work rather than having hot orgasms.

Untitled

Published on July 29, 2010 in D/s, Uncategorized, analingus, bdsm, blow jobs, caning, dom, fantasy, humiliation play, kink, masochism, masturbation, musings, orgasm denial, sex, sex toys and submissive. 2 Comments

I got lost in my head during play Tuesday night, so apologies if this account is disjointed. I had been overdue for a beating, so MasterDoc took to my ass with the riding crop and cane. He started off light, and very gradually increased intensity. He did it in such a way that by the time he was whacking me hard he was able to tell me to come. I came from the pain. I came from him having control. For some unknown reason that still amazes me.

We watched some porn – and this time I actually watched instead of being distracted by him fucking me. I stroked his hair as we lay by each others side. As the porn turned me on I started touching myself. I played with my breasts and nipples, something I rarely do during masturbation. I shyly reached a hand down to my pussy and started playing there. Intermittently, I’d touch him, stroking his back.

Right before having sex with me, MasterDoc looked me in the eye and told me that I was to hold off coming indefinitely. I was not allowed to beg for orgasm like I usually do. Just him giving me this directive, with that firm look in his eyes, made me wet. I struggled to keep my arousal under control as he fucked me. But of course I just kept thinking about how hot it was that he could use my body for his pleasure. It seems as if telling me not to come makes me just want to come more!

We cuddled up after the fucking, and his phone rang. This distracted me so when he told me to come a moment later, I wasn’t anywhere near ready to come. He talked to me about keeping with where we are mentally. After all, the phone can be ignored. I’ll try to do better next time.

My memories of that evening are in bits and pieces, so forgive me if this isn’t as coherent as most posts.

As we cuddled I did some spot worship (see 5th paragraph in that post), and he called me the “High Priestess of Spot Worship.” Hee hee. I know how to play with his special spot really well by now. I stroke his chest languidly, focusing on “the spot” but also touching the rest of his torso – from tummy to collar bone. I’ve joked that I want a sex toy company to make a toy version of his spot so if I ever lose him I can stroke it for comfort.

He had me suck his cock for a while, and I struggled a bit with the reservoir tip of the condom tickling the back of my throat. That’s the only thing I truly hate about blow jobs with condoms.

At one point, I was laying down in such a way that I was looking up at him – and I mentioned that I loved the perspective. Having him above me like that felt so representative of the power dynamic between us. I thought about the idea of him being a god for the length of our scenes. The majority of the time, we’re two humans with strengths and weaknesses. But when we play we can be something else for a while. He can be a god to me, and I can feel safe in his arms. He can be in control, which he likes and I can give up control, which I like. (Of course, ever the irreverent Dom, MasterDoc made some funny noises and hand motions when I said I liked the perspective. Kinda changed the feeling!) Many times that night I felt like declaring I’m his, over and over.

He fucked me from behind a couple of times with that order not to come or ask to come still applying. His cock wasn’t cooperating as much as he would have liked, so the fucking didn’t last long. He had intended to fuck me until he came.

I was feeling really ready for limit pushing, and he had me give his asshole a big kiss. I still don’t like doing it, but it’s hot in the way that I’m being told what to do. Thankfully it is always freshly cleaned when he has me do it. I still pause a second and give him a “do I have to?” look before doing what he tells me to do.

We took a break, and he checked on DeeDee. (She struggles with depression like I do, and was having a tough day.) MasterDoc planned to fuck me later that night as I got so drowsy I was ready to fall asleep, but that got put off. (Something for the wishing box.)

Why The Lesbian Sheep Dance?

Published on July 16, 2010 in Uncategorized, anxiety, attraction, bisexuality, lesbian, musings, poly and sexuality. 1 Comment

The other day MasterDoc asked me if, when it comes to dating women, I sabotage myself. I had to say yes, I think I do but of course figuring out why is much harder.

I do wonder if I have some deeply internalized homophobia going on – as in, being gay is just fine but oooh I’d be a bad person if I did it. Perhaps my upbringing in a Catholic family (albeit rather lapsed), in the suburbs (where people tend to conform even more), during the 80′s (you never saw openly gay kids in high school back then – at least not in the burbs where I was, and blatant homophobia was rampant) all contributed to this state of affairs. My grandmother, who I grew up in the house with, would have flipped out over my brother being gay or me being bi. She was deeply distressed back when Rosie O’Donnell came out. She liked Rosie and was bewildered to find that she’s “a gay.” I pointed out to her that she was still the same exact person she enjoyed watching on tv before, only now she knew more about her private life than before.

My grandmother passed away in 2002, and while I was out to myself as bi (and had had sex with women by then) I was totally closeted as far as my family was concerned. I’m still not out to my dad. My brother only came out as gay around 2006 (he’s much younger than me, he was around 23 at the time). My father, who I was always close to, is deeply uncomfortable with homosexuality. He’s a 62-year-old man who grew up in a Catholic family during an era when homosexuality was truly vilified (hey, he grew up in New York pre-Stonewall). In so many ways my dad is a spectacular guy – but he cannot seem to get it into his head that homosexuality is not a choice, does not do bad things to your soul, and ultimately is a natural part of the world. He would never be mean or antagonistic towards someone he knew was gay, but he would be deeply uncomfortable.

Since I’ve been closer to my dad than my mom, it’s not surprising that after my brother came out I came out to my mother – because frankly I could give a shit if she didn’t like it. But I’m really afraid of disappointing my father. Already, he’s struggling with the whole poly thing and he hasn’t even met MasterDoc yet (and has no idea he’s much older than me). Imagine if I threw a girlfriend into the mix?

My mother was totally accepting of both my brother and I – though I don’t think she quite “gets” that poly is an ongoing thing and not just something you do until you settle down. Her family was far more liberal than my father’s ever was. (The aforementioned grandmother who I grew up with was dad’s mom.) And while my brother is gay and open-minded in some ways, he does identify still as Roman Catholic (says his Facebook page) and *shudder* republican. Being the way out left liberal that I am kinda makes me the black sheep of my immediate family. They’re largely used to and embracing of how “unique” I am, but there’s still some things best not discussed around family. I’m used to keeping parts of myself and my life secret from them.

So do I sabotage myself? It’s possible. Why don’t I ever EVER make a move on a woman I’m interested in? If a woman I like pursues me, then we’re fine, but as so many of us ladies do the lesbian sheep dance it leaves me in a position where I long for a woman in my life, but never quite get one. How can I work through this and get over my subconscious hang up?

Safety

Published on July 13, 2010 in Uncategorized, anxiety, assault, dom and musings. 2 Comments

The day after the events of the last entry, MasterDoc and I talked (and cuddled) at length and it became clear that he not only needs to be able to ensure I’m physically safe, he also needs to gauge my mental sense of safety. My feeling triggered was a bad place for me to be in while out at a club, and in the future if I get that way it’s probably best if strangers don’t touch me – only MasterDoc or DeeDee. I appreciate how he continuously tries to figure out how to best take care of me. We don’t expect perfection in each other, but we work together to each improve how well we take care of the other. I don’t think you can ask for a better sort of relationship than that.

Davey

Published on July 2, 2010 in Uncategorized, commitment, dating, emotions, musings and poly. 3 Comments

I’ve found that even when you initiate a break up with someone, it can still be terribly painful and sad. I was with Davey for 5.5 years – the longest relationship I’ve ever had. A few weeks ago I drew things to a close.

Part of me is bewildered at what I’ve done. I love him, I do, but romantically things had fizzled out for me. I never discussed it on here because I didn’t think it would be fair to Davey. As it is, he stopped reading my blog when it became too painful to read about the sex I was having with other people, but not him. I think it’s especially sad when you love someone and want them to be important in your life, but you decide you’d rather be friends than lovers.

Of course, all this is doubly painful for Davey because his feelings for me didn’t change.

He told me last night that he plans to move out. I now need to move or find a roommate. We were planning to go on a cruise together in September but I doubt that’s happening now. I want to remain close friends with him but only time will tell if we manage that.

I’ve come to realize, or at least believe for now, that for me emotionally I’m fairly monogamous (but non-monogamous physically and affectionately). I can care about, have affection for, lust after multiple people. But when I fell in love with MasterDoc it became harder for me to stay romantically involved with Davey. I see this as my own shortcoming, and if there’s any blame to be placed for this breakup it’s with me, definitely. I pulled away from him. I lost interest in sex. And the whole time I felt horrible guilt over this. Davey is a wonderful guy. Truly. He is one of the best. He has always treated me really well and we’ve had so much fun together. I’m hoping we can maintain a friendship because I love spending time with him. We both love travel and dining out and these are things I don’t get to do with MasterDoc often. Davey and I like a lot of the same music.

It took me a long time to work out if this was the right decision, because in so many ways being with Davey is wonderful. But I ultimately felt that if I wasn’t going to have sex with him or I didn’t feel romantic towards him then it was unfair to hang on just for my benefit. Luckily, he has other girlfriends he sees regularly, so I hope that being poly will help soften the blow for him. I can understand this being hard for him, however, as for many years I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him. But things change sometimes.

Lesbian Sheep and Gay Pride

Published on June 28, 2010 in Uncategorized and musings. 0 Comments

I had a fairly quiet weekend. Friday night I hung out with “new friend” (I really need to ask her what she wants to be called here.) MasterDoc has teased the hell out of me ever since because I did the lesbian sheep dance yet again. Granted, the goal is friendship so hanging out talking animatedly about sex, kink and other mutual interests was a wonderful way to spend time with her. But, yeah, after she left I sent a text to MasterDoc: “Baaaaaa. Baaaaaaa.”

He replied, “OMG even having pre-licked her pussy wasn’t enough!”

Yes. Well. I AM the Queen of the Lesbian Sheep Dance.

In typical Nadia fashion, however, I grew a pair and told her in an email I sent the day after I saw her that I’d be up for fucking . It’s so much easier to be bold in an email than in person.

I worked part of the weekend, and then I spent a very hot, sweaty Sunday in New York City for the Gay Pride Parade. I met up with my brother and his friends. I hadn’t seen my brother for about three years since he and mom had a falling out and he totally removed himself from the family. The funny thing is his being gay was not the issue at all. I got to hear his side of the story, and judging from my own issues with my mother I am inclined to believe my brother. My mother has a heavy dose of lying to herself and denial going on. Her sister is the same way. My brother, cousin and I bond over this dysfunction we have had to grow up with.

My mother has a nasty habit of opening credit cards under our names and running up bills while claiming she’s paying them. (If we even know about the cards. When my brother went to apply for an AmEx, he found out mom had opened a card in his name a month after he was born that he knew nothing about.) My mother’s denial over doing these things nearly resulted in me not going to Christmas one year because I became so enraged at her denial during a telephone call (and her blaming my father, who I know for a fact is not the one doing this shit). I’m sure her spendthrift ways had a lot to do with my parents splitting up.

Ah, family. You can’t live with them, and you can’t kill them.

So my brother and I reconnected while sweating away mass quantities of water from our bodies on the hot and crowded city streets. Lady Gaga tunes were featured on practically every other float, as to be expected. Little bro and I love Gaga, so we have that in common.

It’s kinda funny hanging with my brother and his friends – out of the four of them only one seems “typically” gay. They live upstate and exurbia is a place where you need to be more covert about homosexuality than you can be in the big city. (Plus my brother is pretty conservative.) It’s New York state, so it’s still relatively liberal, but I find that once you hit the suburbs homosexual couples tend not to show much affection in public.

But their lot isn’t a bad one – they don’t have the incredible pressure to be buff and hot that most gay men in the city feel. They laughed at the botox fliers being handed out, but I pointed out that if they were well-paid city guys they would be considering that stuff quite seriously in several years.

I traipsed around the city by foot and was exhausted by the end of the day.  But reconnecting with my brother made it totally worth it. We’ve struggled with being friends because he’s so much younger than me, and we’ve always been at very different places in our lives. That and I resented the kid for showing up when I was nearly 11 and then being sick and hospitalized often so that at age 11 I found myself not only no longer an only child, but also being pretty much ignored. A few years back I apologized to him for how I behaved as it finally dawned on me that the poor kid is not at fault for this situation.

I spent last night with MasterDoc, but out of exhaustion I wasn’t up for sex. (Not that I didn’t want it, but I was too tired to move.) Hopefully when I see him tomorrow night we will have hot freaky sex as I haven’t had any since Wednesday. (I did masturbate over the weekend though, but it’s not the same.)

Revelations (Of the Feminist and Slut Kind)

Published on June 6, 2010 in Feminism, Uncategorized, anxiety, attraction, bisexuality, emotions, foursome, libido, musings, neurosis, random thoughts, sex, sexuality, slut and swinging. 1 Comment

This is going to be a long entry. Not only did I have hot, kinky sex I want to share with you, I also had some realizations that I’m excited about too. (Ultimately, I’ve decided to make my brains’ masturbation one entry, and the actual sex another.)

I had a wonderful time yesterday – and had some revelations on what polyamory is to me. MasterDoc is poly in the sense that he likes having multiple romantic relationships concurrently. I’m poly in the sense that I prefer having one main emotional, romantic relationship and lots of friends I hang out with and fuck. Neither way is wrong, they’re just two of the many ways a person can be polyamorous. I would certainly feel affection for and care about my fuck buddies, but it would be without the intensity of a full-time relationship. I need a way to get my insane sexual needs/desires met, but I’m not really looking for another relationship. I’ve been going about things all wrong. I’ve been looking on okcupid for a woman to date. I should be looking on craigslist for a woman to FUCK.

I think I hesitate to admit that sort of thing, because then I come across as a stereotypical bisexual woman. But fuck that, I may be a bit of a stereotype at times, but I should go for what I want. (And like most stereotypes, I’m not 100% of the stereotype anyway. I can fall in love with and have a relationship with a woman, but I’d much prefer a female friend who loves to fuck and hang out with me.) I worry that I make other bi women look bad by fitting the stereotype – but there are plenty of bisexual women who can have romantic, emotional relationships with women (monogamous ones even!) but I’m not one who wants that.

Kinda hard to admit what you want is what has been vilified. It’s really hard to know that the lesbians who won’t date bisexual women will look at me and say, “See! She’s why I won’t date bi women!” I am not, however, all bisexual women. I am just me.

Yesterday we had over a woman MasterDoc found on craigslist. Just reading her ad made me think she’s a kindred spirit – and meeting her cemented that. I found myself feeling so excited to meet her, but I didn’t want to show it because while here she told us about a woman who got too clingy and she had to stop seeing because that’s not what she wants. The thing is, I’m so excited about meeting her BECAUSE she doesn’t want a relationship with a woman. To have a partner in crime who is bisexual, horny, kinky and adventurous would be fabulous. She’s smart, has an offbeat sense of humor – definitely the kind of person I want to be friends with. I’m hoping she’d be up for the same, but I realize that I have to be laid back about it lest I come across as wanting more than I actually do. But I would just like to be able to call on her and say, “Hey I have a night alone, want to come over, hang out and fuck?” And if she’s free that night (she does have  boyfriend, and I think that should come first just like my relationship with MasterDoc comes first for me) then she can come over, chill out and get freaky.

It was so exciting to have that epiphany. I hold back from dating others for many reasons despite feeling frustrated and like I need more sex and more companionship, and I’ve realized that one of them is that I don’t want another emotionally intense, romantic relationship. I want a fuck buddy, a friend with benefits. Time to re-evaluate my dating strategy.

My other grand epiphany has been developing over the past week or so. We’re all so mired in the “stories” that society tells us, that even progressive feminists can fall prey to the narratives we’re told – despite them not being true. I’m often intimidated by thin women. (And I started feeling that way with our guest – she’s quite slender.) I think that thinness is so beloved in our culture that why would someone who has that want me? But that’s bullshit. I like a lot of different people – and someone being smart, funny and sexually adventurous is FAR MORE important to me than them fitting a societal body ideal. And why the fuck can’t I accept that there are thin women who feel the same way? I have such terrible self-esteem most of the time, that it had never occurred to me before – I am one of those smart, kinky, adventurous, fun people I think are so fucking sexy. Why the hell wouldn’t other people find me sexy? Sure, no one is ever going to be attractive to everyone, but I don’t give myself enough credit for my good points.

At one point I was chatting with our new pal (I’m hoping she’ll come back, she was loads of fun) while MasterDoc played with DeeDee in the next room. And I told her about the realization I had recently through a thread on fetlife and talking to someone on twitter – misogyny and the hatred of women’s bodies is so widespread that thin women deal with tons of shit about their bodies too. In the feminist movement these days we focus a lot on fat positivity, but we often do it in a way that reacts negatively to our sisters who more closely fit the “perfect” body. I forget, however, that the “perfect” body is so fucking specific that even someone who seems to fit it more closely than me can suffer from worries that they’re not the “perfect” one. Sure thinness is desired, but so are big boobs – and plenty of thin women have smaller breasts. We want this “perfect” combination of ultra thin yet curvy – and that’s not a look most people’s bodies fall into naturally. Also, I lose sight of the fact that even if someone does fit this norm, it doesn’t mean they buy into it, it doesn’t mean they can’t like me. Sure, some people are body conscious and only want to fuck other “hot” people, but I can’t assume because a woman is hot that she won’t find me to be very sexy or she can’t struggle with her own sense of body-positivity. (I need to realize this about men too.)

I’ve been so fucked up by the pervasive culture we live in that I have lost sight of these things. And when I told our new pal this yesterday she enthusiastically agreed with me that thin women get all sorts of shit about their bodies too. Misogyny is an attack on women, and part of the attack strategy is to make chubby women think that thin women are the enemy. I’ve often rejected a thin, pretty woman before she had a chance to reject me – and stupidly have ruined chances with women I might have had a great time with. I have no concept of a hot woman wanting to fuck me, but Jesus, aren’t I selling myself short? I’m buying into the societal narrative too much myself.

We had such a wonderful adventure with our new friend yesterday (I keep hoping friend is the right word – it could turn out to be a one-off but I’m hoping it’s not) that it merits its own entry. Coming up next: the hot sex foursome.

Misunderstandings Suck

Published on June 3, 2010 in D/s, Uncategorized, anger, anxiety, depression, derangement, embarrassment, emotions, musings, neurosis, non-monogamy, poly, sex, sybian and threesome. 0 Comments

Even the best relationships have rough patches and misunderstandings. Unfortunately Monday night led to me misunderstanding and getting really upset. Consequently, I spent most of Tuesday upset.

I spent the Monday holiday with MasterDoc, and after we went out to lunch he gave me a sybian ride. I squirted like a sprinkler all over the machine and the floor. Leading up to this, I had laid out nipple clamps, the Hitachi magic wand and my Gigi in the bedroom and gotten started without him. (Hey, I was horny!) He put the clamps on my nipples and led me into the living room where he had set up the sybian. He also grabbed the riding crop to swat my ass while he gave me the ride.

It is delicious how he teases me by varying the speed of the vibration. He tugged on the nipple clamps (one of which didn’t want to stay put) and spanked me with the crop. As I said before, when I came I squirted. I had to clean up the machine and the carpet afterward.

DeeDee was due home that evening, and he made it clear that I would not be the focus of our play that night, and I understood that. DeeDee hadn’t seen him since Friday morning. The three of us hung out watching t.v. for a bit after dinner, and I stumbled upon a Lady Gaga fest on Fuse. When MasterDoc decided it was time to head to the bedroom, I semi-seriously said, “But Gaga is on!” He said that’s fine, I can watch it. Seeing my chance at sex as slipping away, I said, “But this could go on for hours! I don’t have to watch it.” He pointed out that I should enjoy myself and watch for the next half hour or so, until whatever segment was over.

I was a bit inebriated that evening, and I started to wonder if he wanted time alone with DeeDee. In theory there’s nothing wrong with this, but since a threesome had been implied, I felt left out being left in the living room watching Gaga videos (amid many commercials). I somehow in my muddled mind started to think that I was being left out for the whole evening. I debated back and forth – would he really do that? Well as a good sub I should respect that and do my best to enjoy my evening in the living room. But I felt really left out and sad. I felt rejected. I felt like I was being punished for something.

I went to the bathroom at one point and he came to check on me. During our brief conversation I got the impression that he did want me to stay in the living room. But he also said something about coming in. I peeked in the bedroom after I left the loo and they were intensely close and I worried that I’d be barging in. I thought I had misinterpreted him. I went back to the living room.

I lay sadly on the sofa, watching t.v. and clutching the stuffed dog one of his other girlfriends had given him (who I’ve taken a liking to and named Brian after the dog on Family Guy). MasterDoc and DeeDee came out at one point and said they were going to set up the air conditioner in DeeDee’s room. Ok. It’s a good thing because the evening was hot, but I thought to myself (incorrectly), “Well that’s the end of that. No sex for me.”

After the a/c was in, MasterDoc sat on the sofa next to me and reached over to part my legs. He started playing with my cunt and I was confused – was he doing this because I seemed upset at the lack of attention? Was I taking attention away from DeeDee and being a selfish little bitch in a way? Should I enjoy what he was doing and orgasm? The night wasn’t supposed to be about me.  I felt guilty for feeling so upset over being left out. He managed to wrench a hard orgasm out of me despite my terrible mindset. I was feeling bewildered.

Now, reading this you know that I had misunderstood. But at the time I didn’t know this, and I was really ruminating over it all. MasterDoc decided to have me join them, and I thought, “Oh hey, maybe I was wrong. Maybe I’ll be included now.” But then I went back to my original theory when it turned out I was invited in to teach DeeDee the touching technique I’ve learned that turns MasterDoc on. And so my inebriated brain thought, “Great, I’m just coming in to improve their sex life.”

I struggled all night to be a “good” submissive and accept things as they came. For a while I did get into touching MasterDoc and I was able to stop feeling depressed and truly enjoy myself. (It is amazing being able to make your Dom twitch from your touch.) I taught DeeDee some of the technique and MasterDoc was a very happy man having us both massage his inner thighs.

DeeDee headed off again (the reason why escapes me) and MasterDoc asked if I wanted to get fucked. I went for it since it had been nearly a week since I had his cock in me, but with all my neuroses hard at work I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy it. He could see I was distressed in some way, checked in with me, and I was worried that he’d go off to DeeDee’s room right after fucking me, leaving me alone without aftercare. He made it clear that I was supposed to enjoy myself and that I would get cuddles after. So I did let go and come hard when he fucked me, but my brain still was chugging along the wrong track.

He slept with DeeDee that night, which I knew about ahead of time. As I lay in bed trying to sleep (I had work in the morning) I could hear DeeDee coming even through the earplugs I wear to bed. This just fueled my distressed mind. I had a hard time falling asleep and was completely miserable.

I spent the next morning filled with angst. I laid into MasterDoc when I ran into him online during the day. Poor guy didn’t know what I was going on about. By this time my insecurity had been thoroughly tapped into and pain and sadness flowed from me. It was a hellish day at work.

But when I got back to MasterDoc’s that evening, he and I talked. I broke down and got a little hysterical after explaining to him that part of expressing myself to me is letting the emotions show (he always tries to get me to talk calmly, without raising my voice). He’s far more rational and thick-skinned than me, so my reactions put him off. I’m very emotional. I’ve worked for years on becoming more rational, and I’ve improved, but sometimes my emotions take over. I expressed how truly painful the incident on Sunday with my toys on the floor had been for me – I know it’s something he wouldn’t have a second thought about. He’s not bothered by things like that. But for me it triggers something deep.

I cried. I was angry. I was sad. I was unfortunately bitchy. I jabbed with words, which I’m unfortunately good at. The feeling that I really need more sex and need to see more people overwhelmed me. I’m not sure that was really the deep-seated issue at hand, but it’s something that came out. He is open to me playing with others, etc. Now I need to get off my ass and meet other potential partners. After the discussion was over, I was left feeling terrible because I had truly made him hurt. He’s not hyper-expressive like I am, but I could see in his eyes that I really hurt him.

I’ve been feeling bad about it since, although I know that you can’t take back words, but you can try to be different going forward. I’m going to focus more on complimenting him and less on criticizing. Really, in so many ways I’m over the moon with him. He really can make me happy. I should de-emphasize the negative and as Louis Armstrong sang, “Acc-cent-choo-ate the positive.” I plan to be with him for a very long time.

When I get an occasional email on Facebook saying what a lucky man MasterDoc is to have me, I think about these times when I’m overemotional, or depressed, and I think that I’m very much the lucky one.

German Ancestry

Published on April 5, 2010 in Uncategorized and musings. 4 Comments

While I most often blog as a way to chronicle my sexual adventures, I also like to use this forum as a place to sort out my thoughts via the process of writing. This is one of those entries.

When I meet someone who has a strong sense of pride in their heritage, it drives home the fact that I don’t have the same feeling. I’ve known plenty Irish-Americans and Italian-Americans who were proud of their Irish or Italian ancestors and the cultures of Ireland and Italy. However, my ancestry is mostly German, and I can’t recall a time in my life when saying, “German,” “Germany,” or “German history” brought up anything other than thoughts of the Holocaust and Nazis. (And speaking of Italians, why doesn’t Mussolini get brought up as often as Hitler?) It’s really difficult to be a proud German-American, at least in my opinion. I sometimes feel the need to point out that Hitler was Austrian, not German. There are scads of buzzwords that immediately bring that dark, dark period in German history to mind. I commented a while back on another blog comparing how it’s still currently okay (on many levels) to be sexist against women – women are routinely shamed about their bodies in our culture – it reminded me of how, for many centuries, Jews were “acceptably” discriminated against in Europe. I wasn’t talking about the Holocaust, but for most people that’s the only thing they think of. (Alas, the Jews have a very long history of being persecuted. If people were going to accuse me to conflating it with the Holocaust, how come no one accused me of conflating it with the Spanish Inquisition? Seriously. I wasn’t speaking about either time period but why does the Holocaust come up but not the other horrific era of Jewish persecution in Europe?)

So the issue many people face when thinking about German history is the horrors committed by the Nazi party. I don’t wish people to stop remembering the Holocaust – it’s vital that we remember and learn from it. But what about my ancestors? My German ancestors came to the United States in the late 19th and early 20th centuries (and reading up on German-American history on wikipedia* I discovered that many Catholic-Germans like them immigrated to the United States in that time period). By the time World War II came around, they were officially Americans. But somehow, even knowing this doesn’t allow one to express pride in a German background.

I know very little about German history prior to World War I, and that’s a shame because the people who were my forebears lived in Germany before that time. I’ve developed a fascination and a bit of a romanticized notion about Weimar Republic Germany, however the people I’m a direct descendant of weren’t living in Germany by then.

I tend to turn to Wikipedia as my “not quite reliable” source for information I’m casually interested in.  Germanic tribes were known to roam the land we now call Germany back during the Nordic Bronze Age. They’re a people with a long, long history, and it’s shameful that Adolf Hitler marred their history with his megalomania and bigotry.

It seems the road of German history was rocky all along. Regions combined and divided a dizzying number of times. I don’t get a good sense of cohesion among Germanic people until the late 19th century or so.

My position as a German-American who doesn’t feel in touch with her German ancestry is probably pretty widespread. Did you know that Germans make up the single most populous ethnic group in the United States? There are plenty of Americans who have obviously German surnames that I don’t notice in day to day life (actress Katherine Heigl? actor Richard Moll? Heigl is so obviously German when I think of it.), not to mention those who are by majority of German descent but whose surnames reflect another part of their heritage – did you know that Leonardo DiCaprio’s mother was a German immigrant? His father was half German/half Italian. It’s his Italian paternal grandfather’s name that’s been passed down. Looking at the list of famous German-Americans at Wikipedia is amazing. Somehow hearing the name Trump doesn’t make me think it’s German. And how could I know that Herbert Hoover’s family name was originally Huber?

A huge part of this sense of my ancestry being a total disconnect was explained well when I realized that during World War I and World War II Germany was the enemy. Many German-Americans worked hard to assimilate during these years so they wouldn’t be targets of anger and hate. (I had no idea that some Germans were held in U.S. internment camps during World War II.) They abandoned speaking German. They became the totally Americanized people my grandparents were. While I think in my grandparents’ generation there was still some sense of German pride, I’m sure it was more and more hidden. My maternal grandmother spoke some German from learning it at home, but my maternal grandfather and paternal grandfather didn’t. (My paternal grandmother was of a different ancestry. Like many Americans, my heritage is a mish mosh.)

German-Americans have become such a part of the fabric of America that they blend in. Think of all the German things that are a part of the American experience – Christmas trees, hamburgers, hot dogs (frankfurters), kindergarten, not to mention BEER! (Anheuser-Busch, Schlitz, Pabst, Coors, etc. – German names) These things are considered American now without a thought to their origin. Many German-Americans first came to this country to get away from Nazi persecution. We forget that there are German Jews who immigrated to the U.S.

While these realizations won’t lead me to wave a German flag and sing Deustchland Uber Alles, I do feel a bit less ashamed of my ancestry. I’m in good company. I’m kinda curious to attend New York City’s Steuben parade sometime. However, like most German-Americans I am well enmeshed in my identity as an American.

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* I realize wikipedia is NOT considered a reliable resource. I won’t use it to answer questions while I’m at work at the library. However, for my personal entertainment and edification I think it’s accurate enough that I will go there to learn about things that don’t show up in printed encyclopedias. I read a report a few years back of a study in a librarian magazine that when compared to the rate of mistakes in printed encyclopedias, wikipedia wasn’t significantly worse.

“Do it to Julia!”

Published on March 27, 2010 in D/s, Uncategorized, attraction, bdsm, blow jobs, commitment, cunnilingus, dom, embarrassment, emotions, exhibitionism, happy, horny, humiliation play, kink, libido, masochism, masturbation, musings, non-monogamy, optimism, orgasm denial, orgasm on command, poly, sadism, sex, sex parties, shio, slut, spanking, squirting, submissive and trust. 1 Comment

I’ve spent plenty of time the last two months bitching about struggling through PMS. I’m happy to say this month is better, but even though it seems like all is well, I can tell that in a way my mood has gone a bit manic this time. I’m not bipolar, but I think even in regular depression sometimes your mood will swing the other way – just far less often than a person with bipolar might experience. I find myself giddy this month, googly-eyed lovey, eager to do things. I went for an hour long walk today. I never do that! So while the symptoms this month could be described as “positive” I think it’s just another side of the coin from the “negative” symptoms of the past few months. I’m out of balance emotionally like I am every month, it’s just that this month seems more positive.

Last night I had a wonderful night out with MasterDoc. My giddy, lovey mood made me really appreciate how happy I am with him. I really got into our dynamic and realized how fulfilling it is for me. It’s funny, because I constantly struggle with two different desires – there’s a part of me that’s independent and wants to make my own damn decisions but there’s another part of me that wants nothing more than for him to have control. These two parts sometimes conflict. A part of me says that I shouldn’t just let someone else control me like he does, but then I am so turned on and so happy when he does take control.

When we arrived at the swing club, he poured us some water since the bartender wasn’t around. I had said I was thirsty and I couldn’t wait until the water was poured. But, rather than hand it to me, he took a drink first. I wanted to say something as I was so thirsty, but the look he gave me said it all. “I want to make sure you remember your place,” he said to me. I went weak in the knees.

All last night, I found that being his slut was hotter than anything else. I realized that while we do sometimes like swinging with others, there are times like last night where the real kink being satisfied out at the swing club is that I’m his whore, and he gets to show off just what I will do for him. He gets to talk to me like I’m a dirty slut in front of everyone and I don’t object but instead am obviously turned on. I follow his command without hesitation or argument when he tells me to suck his cock, or take my clothes off, or come.

I have moments when I worry that some people are judging me for being such a whore. But then I get so turned on by it that I forget to feel embarrassed. While some might judge me, I think that most people find how I am to be phenomenally hot. The single men at the club are all eager to talk to us in the hopes of joining in. I’m not gorgeous, I’m fat and flabby, but I am a sex goddess there. And I am his. He gets to be the guy who has control over this nymph who wants to fuck and fuck and fuck. (And the reason I want to fuck and fuck and fuck is because I’m so fucking turned on by him.) We’re parts of a whole. It’s a dynamic. I give up control, he takes control and we’re both happy in those states.

Just when I thought I was tired from coming, I’d look into his eyes again and I’d start breathing shallowly and I’d ache for him to touch me and make me come. He can make me come without even touching any of the typical erogenous zones. For me, the hottest part of sex is the mind-fuck, the control. While the stimulation of my pussy is wonderful, the fact that he controls when I come makes the fucking amazingly more intense. I realized last night that being submissive and kinky really are integral parts of my personality. As my Dom, he fulfills me so much that I am willing to struggle with insecurity and jealousy because sharing him with others is still way better than not having him in my life. I think I’m also starting to grow more secure. I’ve been making a concerted effort to focus on the positive and I have started noticing things I’d ignore before in favor of dwelling on the negative. I noticed last night, truly noticed and internalized, how much he enjoys being with me. And I’m starting to see that his wanting to spend time with others doesn’t diminish that. Since I’ve grown so very fond of DeeDee, I can totally see why he wants to spend time with her. And that makes it easier to go busy myself with something else when they want time alone. (She does the same for me.)

Is this a breakthrough or just the hyper-happiness of PMS? I really hope it’s the former.

Unlike most entries I’m not really telling the story of what sex acts we did last night. It just doesn’t seem as interesting to me as capturing what goes on mentally. He made me suck his cock and he choked me on it in front of everyone. He fingered me to orgasm in front of an audience, he made me come by just stroking my legs, butt, hip and breasts. He made me come over and over, uncontrollably. I squirted a huge puddle a couple of times. He fucked me hard and spanked me with the hard wooden paddle. He let some random guy eat me out, and I didn’t so much come from his abilities (which were ok but not great) but I came from knowing I was doing it because I’m MasterDoc’s slut.  He made me come with my pants on just by grabbing my hair and talking dirty to me. I was so afraid I’d squirt in my pants!

I just kept thinking about how I’m really his whore and I will do nearly anything for him. That sort of power strikes me as scary at some moments, but I always come back to the key point that makes it not scary – he would never do anything to truly hurt me. He pushes my limits. He gets me to do things I thought I would never do, but he has never, not once done anything damaging to me. And even on the rare occasions where something didn’t quite work, he is fast to talk things over and make sense of what the issue was so he could avoid it in the future. Sometimes I think that it’s weird for a modern, feminist woman to be so deeply devoted to him, but I am.

The title of this entry came from MasterDoc, who of course got the line from George Orwell’s novel 1984. Near the end of the story, the main character (Winston) is locked up by the totalitarian government. They make him betray his love, Julia, by scaring him to death with something he fears the most (I want to say it was rats but I can’t recall). They make him break down and tell them that he wants them to do this horrible thing to Julia, not him. They make Winston betray her. MasterDoc has a knack for talking about something kinky and difficult and possibly painful, and he is good at making DeeDee and I encourage him to do it to the other, as long as he’s not doing it to us. He thinks this is hot. lol He really does like having power and control, doesn’t he?