Cha-Cha-Cha-Changes

As you can tell if you’ve been reading my posts, I am in the middle of combining several blogs that I started. I will now be posting erotic book and toy reviews on my blog. I’m excited about becoming a sex toy reviewer ;). I will also be posting pieces that I’ve written or am currently working on. Most Importantly: I will be blogging about BDSM, Daddy/babygirl Relationships, Polyamory, and Getting Your Kink On When You Have a Disability.

I will also be starting a question and answer segment, so if there any questions about BDSM that you’ve been dying to ask since you read 50 Shades, then I’m your girl. I will caution you though, and say that bdsm in the real world isn’t “really” like 50 Shades. There are a ton of different relationships that fall under the BDSM umbrella, and then there are people who just like to get freaky every once in a blue moon.

I have Multiple Sclerosis, and seeing as how this is MS Awareness month I decided to checkout the resources available to us kinky disabled folks. Sadly, there wasn’t as many as I’d hoped & some that looked promising had simply died out. So, I feel like I need to take one for the team and be the “Official Disabled Sexy Toy Testing Goddess”. I will do my duty & serve my community proudly; I will face the day, one toy at a time ;).

I will also be discussing polyamory, because I have recently begun a poly relationship. If someone had asked me about being poly five years ago, I would have looked at them like they were crazy. I’ve changed a lot in that time. I’ve learned that it’s important to be loved unconditionally & be happy, for me that happens to be as a member of a triad…and Daddy’s babygirl. Image

The Curse & Blessing of Technology

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Last night, I received an email from my uncle informing me that my grandmother had a massive stroke. She is in ICU and at the time they weren’t sure if they were going to remove her breathing tube. The news in itself was bad, but it brought back some not so great memories.
I know my mom doesn’t check her email on a regular basis, so I knew I had to call her & tell her that her mom was dying. It felt like a Deja vu moment to me; my dad died in September, which I discovered in a bad way. Don’t get me wrong, I love technology. But, I think that finding out that someone you love is dying/died via technology SUCKS ASS!!!
When my father died, I found out through a Facebook post. Yep, I said a Facebook post. A friend of mine is a firefighter/EMT, he heard the call go out about my dad while he was on another run. He & I have a relationship where we tease each other mercilessly; I actually posted a YouTube parody for a KKK dating site on his wall once, and recently when I had an allergic reaction to medicine he posted a picture from the Nutty Professor.
So, it was reasonable for me to think that his post: I know things were strained, I hope you have some good memories….was a joke. After all, I had just posted a check-in that said I was in bed playing with my new iPad2. I wrote back, thanks smartass….then I thought about his post & his job, then I wrote:is my dad dead? He sent me an inbox MSG to call him.
Sometimes, I feel like I experience emotions to deeply or maybe I let them eat away at me. A Dom I know will tell me from time-to-time, that I need to remember not to create drama when things don’t go the way I would like for them to go. Apparently, it’s a common thing for people who grew up in an abusive environment.
I sent this Dom a message last night telling him, I know I’m not supposed to have drama but I have to say this little thing. When I told him what was going on, he told me that wasn’t drama. He was there for me to lean on, at the time I found out, throughout the night & even throughout the day. This type of interaction is still new to me; I’m not used to someone getting on to me for the way I behaved, but still being supportive & caring towards me.
W/we generally communicate through computer and phone. So last night when I wanted to curse technology for always making me the bearer of bad news, I had to remind myself that my interaction with this Dom occurs through technology.

Every Sub Is Allowed A Temper Tantrum, Right?

English: Bent forward strappado

English: Bent forward strappado (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Okay, if you are a Dom reading this you are probably thinking HELL NO…..actually, the funniest thing that happened after my  outburst & fit of self-doubt is that the Doms all said to breathe.  So maybe it’s not all that unsubmissive to question the depth of one’s submissiveness , lol.

But seriously, after I was able to get past that huge period of self-doubt I was able to think about things more clearly. I was very productive, mapping out a beginning the writing process for an Interracial BDSM story ;). Started the day out on the right foot, worked through a really crappy event with a Dom & able to see it from an outsider’s perspective. Then said Dom was kind enough to use orgasm control in a manner that left me with a high/bliss like feeling….Thank You ;).

Undeserved Sorrow

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It’s funny, my dad is dead but I’ve thought about him all day long; last yr on Father’s Day I felt so much anger towards him, I posted a facebook status that wished all fathers a happy day except for my own. Last night, a very wise Dom told me that I wasn’t really sad because my dad’s not here, but that I was sad because my dad wasn’t the father that he should’ve been.
It’s true, all these months that I’ve been mourning my father, but I’ve not been mourning the man who died on September 21, 2012. Lately, the song Somebody that I Used to Know/em>; has been the one that comes to mind, and slips through my lips when I’m experiencing my deepest moments of anguish.
I guess it’s kind of fitting that this song represents the two most important men in my life, my father and my husband. In the beginning they were both the forces that could make the sun shine in my life, now they’re the forces that bring the storms and clouds. Perhaps, I put them both on pedestals that would’ve been difficult for any man to remain on; in actuality, I think the tainted love that my father created in my life found a way to seep into other relationships.
After all, my dad was one of the biggest influences on my deciding to pursue my husband. I wanted to be with someone who was as different from my dad as possible, my pale redheaded husband is about as different as I could get from my brown skinned dad. Growing up in in my father’s house I learned one thing for sure, I wouldn’t marry a man who would beat me or my children. My father taught me how to fight, no it may not have been during a scheduled lesson, but I learned how to kick some ass from him. Hey, a girl only lets a bat get broken on her back once. At the time I took it as a compliment when my mom was driving my 17 yr old self back to the place where I was staying, and she said, “Girl, you really know how to fight. You didn’t just scratch and claw, you were punching him!”
Today as I think about that afternoon, I realize how entirely fucked up it was for my mom to compliment me on my fighting skills. It’s those situations that led to all the tests that my husband had to pass. To be completely honest, I would’ve left my ass; there’s no way in hell I would’ve tolerated someone throwing raw chicken at my ass. It would’ve been on, like Donkey Kong. The first time someone would’ve thrown something at me or used their hands to strike my body, that would’ve been the end.
But, somehow he was able to see beneath all the hurt and anger; he knew I was a diamond in the rough. I guess that’s part of why it’s been so painful to go throw all of the shit we’re going through right now. He loved me at a point when I didn’t truly love myself; he helped me grow into the woman that I am today. Unfortunately, now that I’m stronger I am able to see things more clearly; I am able to see through all the manipulative bullshit that he tries. My dad was the king of manipulative behavior, I’m just surprised it took me so long to see what was right in front of me.
I guess since it’s father’s day I should thank my dad for all of the wonderful things that he taught me, I’ve got a feeling my list is going to be a little different from my friends lists’. Here we go. THINGS THAT MY DAD TAUGHT ME:
1. No man better ever hit me, and if he does there’s no need to apologize because I’ll be gone
2. Be careful what you say, because you never know how the other person is going to throw it back in your face
3. Just because someone seems nice and loving in public that doesn’t mean that’s their true self
4. Size up your opponent, look for their weakness, give them a strong right hook & then kick them in the nuts if you have to
5. No matter what I do, it’s never going to be good enough for you
6. The people you love are the one’s who can hurt you the most
7. That I should be ashamed of my body
8. I’m going to grow up to be a worthless whore, that no one will ever love
9. If someone is choking you, hold your breath and the might actually believe they’ve killed you…in my case it did make him quit choking me
10.it’s possible for the person that you love the most in the entire world, to tell you they’re thinking about killing you and then themselves
11. Any time that I experience sexual pleasure, I should also feel shame & guilt…although, I’m not entirely sure if you wanted me to experience shame & guilt or just not have sexual pleasure

That wise Dom is correct, I am NOT sad because you are gone. I am sad because the father I loved died the first time that he beat me. I guess I spent the rest of my life hoping that somehow, someway, that amazing man would resurface; and to be completely fair, he did show up from time to time.
I remember when I was going to graduate from college (it was my first graduation, the quadriplegia kind of fucked up that whole high school thing for me), I didn’t have enough money to buy my cap and gown. He sent me the money, even though he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to attend.
I also have fond memories of things that he did with his grandchildren, taking them fishing, buying them clothes, taking them to the zoo. He even barbecued for one of his grandchildren’s birthdays; on a hot and sweaty July day, he didn’t complain when he had to cook on two grills, using separate tools so that our Muslim friends would be able to celebrate with us.
I’m mourning these brief glimpses of time, when he was that AMAZING man. I’m sad that that man died when I was in fifth grade, but I’m also sad that it took me until today to realize it. Since my father’s no longer here, I will never know why he changed. There are times that I wish he were still here so I could ask him, what the fuck happened?
I want to know how a person can go from being the most amazing father one day, and become a horrific monster the next. I’ve tried to examine everything that occurred and see if there were any common factors, besides me of course. I’m pretty sure his problem was me & anyone with a cock. Maybe, he thought I’d remain a virgin for the rest of my life….his beatings had the opposite effect, they sent me into the arms of anyone who showed me love.

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Somebody That I Used To Know

Stuck

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A wise man once said

Emancipate yourself from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds

&

The truth is everyone is going to hurt you. You just have to find the ones worth suffering for

BOB MARLEY

I’ve been trying to free myself from my mental slavery for awhile; I can even say that I don’t hate you, too bad it didn’t happen while you were still here. I often think that I wish that I’d had the chance to say good-bye to you, but what would I have said? I’m sorry that you’re death is near, I love you….or would it be more along these lines: I’m sad that the end is near for you, I can’t begin to tell you the pain I have in my heart. But, I am angry as hell at you! Do you realize that I loved you more than anything else in this entire world? Perhaps, that’s the reason you were able to crush my soul; I spent more time with you than anyone else, so you knew how to make sure the pain stuck.
For the first few months after you died, I could only feel sadness for the loss of the man that everyone else knew. Now, now I can feel the anger and hurt for the monster you were as well. I’m angry that you turned me into the broken person that I am right now. I know this phase will pass, you know the phase when all of the horrible things you ever did or said get stuck on repeat. I can clearly hear the bass of your voice when you said that maybe you should kill me and then kill yourself. Who does that? Who says that fucking kind of thing to their own child? Maybe I could’ve forgiven you if you only said that one time, if I only thought you were going to take my life once. But, I can’t begin to count the number of times you said or did these kind of things to me. Here’s my question for you: Why didn’t you go ahead and kill me?
You never physically killed me, but each time one these things happened it killed apart of my soul and destroyed my self-esteem. Do you know that when something goes wrong, it’s never just that one thing for me. I hear you say I’m worthless and no one would want me, I hear you when you’re saying you should kill me…or, my heart’s racing and I have a feeling like the closed door is going to be busted open (you did do that, so I guess that’s founded). The only time I remember a dream, is when I’m dreaming you’re trying to kill me. For months I’d been stuck, stuck in the stage where I just felt sadness for your loss.
To the depth of my being, I don’t think you intended to fuck me up like you did. Constantly trying to find someone that I can please, because I could never please either of you. Hell, I even tried to make sure that you were taken care of after your strokes, when you caught your house on fire, and through all of your heart problems. You didn’t deserve my kindness, or my love. I stupidly gave them to you anyway.
I obviously haven’t mastered the second quote; I care about almost everyone. I’ve always treated other’s the way that I want to be treated, sadly it is rarely reciprocated. I’ve been told that I see thing as either black or white, with no grey in the middle. I’m not sure that’s the best description; I think I start out trying to trust people, but eventually realize the truth.
Even with YOU,I can’t be mad. It’s not like you lied to me and told me that you cared about me. It is simply the fault of my tainted mind; I erroneously tend to believe that it’s possible for me to make someone care about or find value in me. I want trust people too easily; I want someone to want to protect and care for me. So today, I am determined to find a way to bring this pain to the surface whenever I meet someone. Maybe I can find a way to cause some kind of electrical shock/or other instant form of pain to be triggered, whenever I start to think I can trust someone. I’ve heard it said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over, but expecting a different result; I’m going to change things up, maybe I can create a mantra to repeat throughout the day: trust & care for no one, after all it’s what they would do for you 🙂 !

I Thought You Were Different, But I Was Wrong

fuck

fuck (Photo credit: shellehs)

I don’t want you to feel responsible for me; hell, no one’s done that since before 1993
All I have to do is close my heart off more to the world
For some reason, I let myself believe that you would be different; you were for awhile, you were my rock
But then one day you moved me to my personal hell; still, I was supportive of you
You didn’t even notice that my soul  was fading away
You threw me into the arms of my abuser, but that wasn’t even enough pain for you
Why would you tell me the stories where he laughed about the way I suffered; the answer must be because you love me
After all, that’s what I know of love; actually, you hadn’t hurt or torn me down nearly enough to love me, yet
It’s got to be something pretty big to out do the bat that was shattered on my back
Perhaps, somehow I made an involuntary movement and you took that as my throwing the gauntlet down
It’s your turn to etch pain into my soul, but it’s got to be something really painful to get through all the scar tissue around my heart
Do you think you can do it; do you have it within you to tear me down and rip me to shreds
I was mistaken, you did indeed have it within you to darken my heart
But, unlike all the other people that i’ve ever loved, I gave you the tools to hurt me
I trusted you, and that was my biggest mistake; I allowed myself to believe that I was lovable
Or maybe my biggest mistake, was thinking that for some reason my love was valuable
By this point in life I should’ve known that my love had no value, that in fact I had no value
When something is valuable it is treated with great care, steps are taken to make sure valuable things remain unbroken
Steps like a parent protecting a child when the other parent is hurting them; instead you were worried about who paid the bills
Bitch, I am the one who paid the bill

I’m the one that he broke the bat on, because I was trying to protect you

Now, you are somehow miraculously unable to remember any of the incidents of abuse that occurred under your watch

You even said that you were never scared of him until you left; it must’ve been someone else screaming for help that December morning
Don’t you see, my value decreased EVERY-TIME that you chose a man over me
You carved out the chunks of my heart every single time you promised to be there to protect me, but showed up late
It was easy for me to stay with a guy who would threaten to kill himself if I didn’t have sex with him, hell at least he had some feelings for me
It didn’t bother me at the time that I let him hurt me so that I’d have a place to stay; he wasn’t supposed to love me, you were
What did you think would happen to my soul; did you think i’d suddenly figure out how to love myself
I learned how to survive, that I’d make it through any abuse or hardship that was placed in my path
A fact that managed to seep into your pathetic brain, you’ve acknowledge my strength in overcoming the trials that I faced
That’s not completely true, perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that you’ve noticed my “strength” in the face of medical adversaries
I guess i should be thankful for that acknowledgment, lord knows you seem to have forgotten anything else that i did over the last 37 years
I don’t blame you, how could I…I was raised to believe everything bad that occurred was my fault
Did you even realize that as I cried at HIS funeral, I was crying because I’d realized that I was totally alone in the world now
I know, I’m fucked up
I was sad because a man who caused my PTSD is dead, and suddenly I realize that there is no longer anyone in my immediate family that loves me
The most perverse part of the situation is that even though HE beat the fuck out of me, deep down I knew HE loved me
I’ve been trained to believe that even the few fucked up moments of love from HIM, was better than to have no love at all
I sit here and all I can think of are the ways that the people that I loved and trusted the most, have betrayed me
My heart is filled with pain and sadness now, as I sit here pondering my marriage
For even he, was a participant in the scraping of my heart
I can’t get past the betrayal that occurred last year, at this point i don’t even know if it’s possible
I do know that: you hurt me, ruined both of my parental relationships, rejected me when I tried to discuss my desires to you, and betrayed me when you talked to my mom
I guess you must love me an awful lot; most of the other’s have only caused a crack in my heart
When you made your mark, you treated my heart like it was being swept up and battered in a tsunami
Guess what: I’M TIRED OF TRYING TO HANG ON TO A PIECE OF DRIFT WOOD WHILE KICKING MY FEET

Is it possible to fall back in love?

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I’ve been wrestling with this question for at least a month now; I am not sure if it’s possible, but with each day it fades a little more. I don’t blame him for everything, I’m a completely different person than when we met. I’m no longer the 18 yr old pregnant girl who’s biggest requirement in a partner was that he never hit me, or my child. To that end, he has absolutely lived up to that end of the deal. Unfortunately, the woman that I’ve become wants to be spanked, have nipple clips/clothespins, be bound, flogged….I’m sure you get the picture.
But this isn’t the reason that my love for him has faded, (well there is one somewhat related thing)it’s the things that he’s said to me, said to a family member, and has required of me. He’s changed, as well. When I told him that I had a class in the building where I was raped, and would have to ride in the elevator where the rape occurred (due to my disability)his response was to ask if I was going to drop out of school. Then he went on to remind me then, and several times throughout the year that we needed my student loan money.
When I started discussing BDSM, he seemed okay and was willing to try things. Well, he agreed to spank me one night but after about five gentle swats he quit. The next morning when I asked him what he thought about what we’d done the night before, he seemed pretty disgusted. I felt guilty; here was a man whose non-aggressive qualities were what attracted me to him, and I was trying to make him ” hit & hurt” me.
I MAD A BAD DECISION.After that night, my need for a D/s relationship grew; finally, I’d found something that allowed me to feel comfortable & safe exploring my sexuality!!!! Unfortunately, I was able to do this through an online/phone relationship. My husband flipped out, and I don’t blame him for that; he wanted me to stop all contact immediately, and I didn’t. I take complete blame for searching for someone outside of my marriage, I had a choice & I chose one that hurt my husband.
The next move, was played by him. He called my (African American/raised in segregated New Orleans/and lived in Watts during the riots) mother; he told her that I was talking to some pervert online. Then he told her,” She’s calling this pervert Master, and he’s calling her slave!”
As you can probably guess, things did not go well. In fact, my relationship with my mother will never be the same. My mom said she didn’t want to have to choose between m husband and me. I told her she shouldn’t have to choose since she was my mother. I didn’t speak to her for about four months, and even now I won’t tell her anything that’s truly personal/important.
He eventually apologized, saying that he was mad and would take things back if he could. He can’t take it back, and I can’t forget it. I did go to did meet with a therapist that I still see.Even she says that I’ve done everything I can, he has to make the next step.
He and I are both in graduate school, but somehow that excuses him from paying attention to anything outside of his job and school. One day I was getting ready to go to the doctor, I was sitting next to him as I put my shoes on. As I went to leave I said good bye ; he didn’t acknowledge me until I actually said good bye to myself. Then he had the audacity to say that his dyslexia prevented him from noticing when I was talking to him.
Recently, we sat down and he told me that he’s not going to pay attention to me for the next year. He told me that he’d made sacrifices for me, and I was going to have to make the sacrifice of basically having no partner for the next year. I just sat there; I honestly don’t remember if I responded to him when he said that. But, I’ve made sacrifices for him as well. I actually agreed to move back to a town that I’d repeatedly said that I didn’t want to live in for a good 14 years. Not only that, but I’d always said that if I did move here I wanted to live on the other side of the county from my father.
Here’s the sacrifice that I made, not only did I move to the town but my husband moved us into a house that four houses down the street from my dad. This is the man who at one point abused so badly they removed me from my parents’ home. Then my husband would come tell me horrible things that my dad would say, then “realize” he shouldn’t have told me. He actually told me that in order to overcome my negative feelings, I should spend more time with my dad. It eventually got to the point that my night terrors were horrible. By the time we moved, my girls knew to hide when my dad knocked on the door. By December of that year, my father and I were no longer speaking because my husband was tired of my dad. When my dad died last fall, I hadn’t talked to him for nine months. I do partially blame my husband for this, when I didn’t live in the same town my dad and I had a relationship.THAT’S THE SACRIFICE THAT I MADE, I’VE GOT NO RELATIONSHIP WITH MY PARENT (that’s still alive) AND MY DAD‘S DEAD!
Yes, I still want a D/s relationship….it’s not even a want, it’s what I need to feel complete. No, I cannot submit to him….I don’t trust him with my emotional well being, I don’t even like being in the same room as him. He’s mentioned wanting to have sex, I’m taking full advantage of my need to recuperate from my surgery in May. Recently, he has said several hurtful things…and I’ve realized that I’m no longer in love with him.
Unfortunately, I can’t make it financially without him & honestly, I don’t think he can make it financially on his own either. So, I can’t leave. But, I don’t know how I can fall back in love with him again. He won’t put in effort to make things better, and I am just plain tired. SO, IF ANY OF YOU KNOW HOW TO FALL BACK IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE….DROP ME A LINE…I’ll read it, even though I think it’s already to late.

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Day 13 of My 30 Days of Kink

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Day 13: Explain as best you can what the appeal of kink/BDSM is to you? Why are you drawn to what you’re drawn to?
I guess the biggest things that draw me into BDSM are the: open communication, the amount of trust that is developed between partners, the sense of protection and care you feel as a submissive, and the reward of knowing (and HEARING) that you’ve done something to please your Dom/Master…..this a big one for me, to actually have the person tell me they appreciate, care for me, the freedom to express my sexual needs/desires without judgment, the fact that a Dom/Master is paying attention to the slightest detail & is even able to pick up on things that arouse me that I might not be ready to admit, and then providing the little nudges along the way to help me expand my comfort zone, and the biggest reason (besides the awesome sexual reactions that have) is that I feel safe, like there is someone who has my best interest at heart, who will be there when I feel the utmost despair, share in the celebration when I’ve achieved a goal, and knows when I just need comfort
One a sexual level I’m drawn to the following aspects of BDSM/Kink: I love that my fantasies are discussed and validated, having my hands bound is like receiving a pound of Godiva chocolate…yes please, anytime ;), I have fantasized about being spanked in a sexual/erotic way for quite sometime, as someone who has a ton of guilt/same associated with things of a sexual nature (funny, I didn’t attend any catholic schools until college) it is amazing to have someone “tell you what to do”/ be in control, I know he’s not going to have me do anything that would be psychologically traumatic & honestly it probably would be stuff that I Really want to do but am too embarrassed to admit, ASS PLAY is there really anything more I need to say about that except, oh hell yeah….
Why am I drawn to what I’m drawn to? Well all I can say about the sexual things is that I’m drawn to them, because I rather enjoy the orgasms that they produce *BLUSHING*! I would say that I’m drawn to the emotional aspects for several reasons: a week after my 16th birthday, I decided that my dad had beaten me for the last time, so I was bounced around from shelter, foster homes,being a runaway, group home & then back to them for a short time while I was a quadriplegic…when I was removed from my home because my mom chose my dad, I realized I was the only person that I could truly count on…BDSM enables me to know that I’ll be cared for, it is afterall the essence of a BDSM relationship. And as I said earlier, it allows me to share//do all of the wonderful freaky things I can think of.

Review of Tonya Kinzer’s Novel: Their Submissive Switch by Blackhippiechick for Night Owl Reviews

bdsm @ the hangar

bdsm @ the hangar (Photo credit: mrdepot)

This book could be a good starting point or readers who loved 50 shades

Black Hippie Chick's Take On Books & The World

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Sondra & Nick work together by day, but once they enter their house they live in a Master/slave relationship. In order to expand on Sondra’s slave training, she and Nick attended a training retreat in Florida. Before they leave, Nick and Sondra discuss her feelings about receiving sexual stimulation from a female. During the sessions Sondra works with both male Doms and female Dommes; she discovers that she rather enjoys the way Dommes make her feel.
Throughout the retreat Sondra and Nick learn how they feel during many intriguing situations, including a session where Sondra takes on the role of a Domme. The author was able to describe the BDSM sessions in a very sensual way, that left this reader wishing for more.
This book could be a good stepping stone book for those readers who connected with the Fifty Shades Trillogy. This book takes the next step in explaining…

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