Wednesday, June 23, 2010

the bad daughter

Mum says tonight:
We had a good chemo visit-Dr N is great;our nurses super;we are irreverent;they brought a tiny tele for soccer; ran into friends at the shop. Dad mowed the yard; I loaded the truck.My friend going to Mass asked what prayer we'd like - I asked to make it a hard fight ,just not impossible. We are doing fine!

I feel tremendously guilty. Part of what I wanted from my exorcism. Let loose some long-held baggage.

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Dear DC dom, domme, and IlRe -

Domme, I'll wear the tight black summer dress (the one with zipper up the front?). I presume this means I'll have time to go home from work and change before meeting with you all? Or, I'll change upon arrival?

Thank you for giving me an overview of the possibilities for tomorrow night, and for the opportunity to share some thoughts prior to Tuesday. I've had a hard time not thinking about Tuesday, so my mind and imagination have whirled around and a few things have surfaced.

Of course, I understand that my words will be read and decided upon as you all please. I'm also aware that sometimes it's best not to say anything at all - mind fucks, desire twisting, etc. I've simply decided that I'd like to push myself on Tuesday a bit further than I have before. This three-dom/me-scene is already one step in that direction. In situating myself mentally toward that goal, a few ideas popped into mind. I've been reading a book called Radical Ecstasy, which speaks highly to the intersection of tantra, s&m, spirituality. I'm interested in the potential of our opportunity to use the violet wand and flogging/whipping toward a very gut-centered release of some tightly-held, worthless baggage. I'm also curious about balancing that (possible) process with some very naughty sexual acts... of course, only if I'm a very good girl and anyone has any interest in using me as such. Along that vein, I'm very intrigued by objectification, as well.

Having contemplated this email many times today, and well aware of the potential consequences (as well as the trust I feel toward each of you), I'm going to take a deep breath and hit the "send" button.

Thank you for allowing me to share this with you. I'm terribly excited for tomorrow. :)

lola

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I've been selfishly absorbed. I was going to call my parents tonight, but I just couldn't muster up the intent. I didn't want the long-drawn out descriptions of how things went. I didn't want the forced conversation. The reminders. The knowledge that my father is fighting. I wanted to be selfish today and yesterday and days to come.

And now, I feel horrible again.

Relishing in my own fight. Facing my deep fears and physical pain. As if I couldn't stop and actually be present for my family.

And, oddly, last night, and the days leading up to it, all I could think was, "I asked to make it a hard fight ,just not impossible."

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Luckiest girl in the world - major update

I will publish this regardless if I have time to edit it.

Preface.

There's so much living going on! I really had no expectations for DC. Sure, there have been Madam scandals and all the politicians and all their cigars, but I really had no idea I'd have my dance card filled within 2-1/2 months.

How to run down the fun? How to describe the emotions? How to re-tell the stories?

Oh my. It's a huge feat.

I guess as a framework for it all, as a backdrop, a foundation... I've got to wake up at 5:45am Monday-Friday. And I'm a whore for sleep so I'm popping a Tylenol PM by 9:00pm to wind down and in bed by 10:00pm - or so I try. Weekends I've found myself waking up at 8 or 9 or this past weekend 10 for a nap at noon. Work days are full of steep learning curves, political savvy, negotiations, leading the charge, demonstrating my abilities, performing at top notch. It's a bit stressful. My division is 1500 people. My agency is over 150k. There's a lot of learning going on. My dad is undergoing chemo for a new cancer that has appeared. He seems to be doing well under the circumstances and our family is tight regardless distance.

So, in the flip-side of time, in my nights, I like to release.

There is the Mother Teresa of Love:

Mother Teresa of Love - first writing


11/17/2001



{{{{i took a break from writing this and started to get ready. it's 713pm and i'm sitting in my finest under garments, make-up on, hair settling into place, "out of control" by the chemical brothers is on, and i'm sipping some shiraz while reflecting for a moment. i think, some days, that i'm the mother teresa of love. i skip like a magical rabbit from lover to lover, spreading confidence, assurance, connectivity, inhibition, the light of the sun, the nectar of the flowers. how many times have people contacted me, years later, and told me what an impact i had on their lives? NYC hip-hop boys, blue collar mechanics, tree-huggin' hippies, spotlight strippers, high-tech wizards, photography geniuses, record-spinning stylies, artists-in-residence. maybe i won't be the one to settle down, marry, to-have-and-to-hold-from-this-day-forward-for-the-rest-of-your-life-i-do. maybe my calling in life is to preach love indiscriminate. it's a blessing and a curse. to connect with everyone on the deepest level. "who knew?" he asked me last night. "who knew? i've never felt this way before. this has never happened in my life." i knew. i have. this has. but it's always different, don't get me wrong. it's always different, beautiful, and special - even the fuck'n'chuck booty calls. that's why i felt so rejected days ago, while waiting for him to call. because, in some spiritual/religious way, i knew i had something to bring to him and he was wasting time. not my time. he was wasting HIS time. i'm off to the art opening - i'll continue the digest of the above stories later.}}}}}


There is the submissive pain slut.

The babygirl to Daddys.

The lover to lovers.

The porn star to photography.

The forever teacher.

I feel best describing things by time, by people. If you asked me if I played sports ever, I'd have to go back in my mind and think: soccer - volleyball - field hockey; age something - lived in Germany for the soccer so ages 6-9, volleyball in Oklahoma and Wisconsin - ages ...., field hockey - Argentina. And then my mind wanders to who was there. My life is categorized by places I've lived, then remembering what ages that was, then who was there.

So, here I am in DC. I'm 35. My colleagues thought I was 25-30. I feel younger than ever, and older than ever. I am life embodied in time.

And I never expected so much joy from this place in the world, so much action, so much fucking, so much feeling.

There is DCDY, the Dominant Couple (aka previously just DD - the dominant daddy), the Soccer Player, the Musician Daddy, the Poly Daddy (aka Hill), the Pet Daddy, and the few between: the SleepCreep, the Photographer, the Younger One, the Choker Yoga Guy, the IM chat Daddys.

And it's strange, because when I ride the bus, ride the metro, walk around - except for the tourists - this city is all women! So, how have I been so lucky??

DCDY - gives me rides home from work sometimes, we kiss in his car, sometimes he stops up with a gift and a cock to suck, a short distance cock fucking, a shoulder to cuddle on. He's been a CDOA reader for years and knows who I am - probably more than anyone in this city. He is not jealous. He is not a time-taker or time-waster. We have our obligations and our time together. He is the person I would call in an emergency. He is the Daddy I'd lean on if I needed propping up. He is a friend. He is - and this so important that it needs to be said again - the person who knows ALL of me.

The Dominant Couple - we played alone together a few times. He and I alone, then the three of us alone, then at a play party at her house, and another play party last Saturday at her house. She's well to do, married to a cross-dresser, hosts parties out in their beautiful house with a full dungeon for the younger generation of kinksters. He's a family man, works downtown, and is her Dominant - she used to be a Pro Domme. And I wasn't so convinced about him until I met her. He's more rough, brusque, non-social. I thought him a bit thuggish. But she balances him out. She knows the rules of play, the safety, the sensations, the care. She holds me as he beats me. She caresses me and tells me what I slut I am as he flogs me. She whispers into my hooded ears what a little beautiful slut I am while he face fucks me through the mouth hole. We get compliments after about how hot the scene was.

The Soccer Player - I fell for him but am moving myself out of that. We share a sad commonality that our dads are dealing with cancer. He loves wine more than I do and is a connoisseur. We did a wine tasting and touched each other slyly like we were teenagers. We love music - he more avant-garde, more reggae from Jamaica. We can carry on a conversation while caressing each others' legs. We fuck with passion and I'm turning him on to Daddy/little girl play. I started missing him as our schedules didn't permit, but it turned out it was on purpose because he wants things I can't provide: steady, long-term dedication. I had visions of poly with him, us being primaries and fondling others on the side, but I don't think that's in the cards for us. I'm re-adjusting my view on us. Retrieving a bit of what I put out there, recalling a bit of my heart.

The Musician Daddy is about my age and brings a sly, good gift of smoke when he comes. We fuck raw and naughty. Daddy/little girl all the way. Apparently, I'm the only one in his rotation that craves this, although he played with an ex before in this realm. We talk music, politics, family - all briefly before he leaves. A short visit.

The Poly Daddy - I fucked him once while his baby daughter slept in the other room. We looked at photos of him and his wife with another couple. I went over again to their place to play with them both. She's pregnant. They were fucking when I walked in - a true, straight-to-the-point hello. I hadn't licked a cunnie in years until hers. It was nice enough, but I'm still firmly a whore for cock. We had good chat. She cried after he fucked her - a release, and an overwhelming feeling of bringing me into the mix that night. We chatted more and kissed while he fucked me from behind. All nice, all ethical. He wants to visit me alone and do more Daddy/daughter.

The Pet Daddy is learning bdsm. I was hesitant to meet him for this reason, but he seems to have an idea of how to go about things and does them. We had drinks and dinner and I crawled up into his lap to kiss him. We were alone on the patio and it seemed apropos. Another night, he came over and spanked me in a long, slow, sensual, built-up spanking and finger fucked me until I was a wild beast on the bed. He was the first to sleep over and we slept well. In the morning, I sucked his cock and he fingered me over and over because I couldn't get enough of his hands, his arms. We share common work interests and common bdsm ideas. This time, he wants me to start as a girl and be trained into being a good pet puppy. Bondage tape to bind my arms, knee pads to scurry about, bondage tape on my feet and hands. A collar. A leash. A dog bowl. And who knows what kind of training. Fetch? Simon Says? I'm excited to see.

The SleepCreep wanted to play out Daddy molesting his sleeping babygirl. I had had several drinks on the weekend and popped a Tylenol PM. I buzzed him into the apartment and he fucked me slowly, without waking me (although I was entirely conscious, just drowsy). Came. Left the rubber as a note. Left as quietly as he entered. I never opened my eyes. Anonymous completely. So fucking hot. Our schedules don't match up and he's got a new lover so I'm not sure if we'll play again.

The Photographer was in town one night and on CraigsList. He came over and made some lovely photos of me - posted on Tumblr. He's kinky and poly and smart and fun. I hope he comes to town again.

The Younger One from a Southern state. New to life. New to sex. New to wanting to be fucked by men and fuck women. He's wound up and long-lasting although without rhythm to get me off. He is sweet and working for good causes. He's also younger than me. The first in a long time. But dirty dirty.

The Choker Yoga Daddy - Sounds so strange, but he's newly divorced, exploring, discovering, realizing he likes to use his extensive skills from hardcore martial arts wrestling something rather to choke girls out lightly and have them come to while he's fucking them. I have yet to actually have a date. I'm hesitant for all the right reasons, but enthralled by the idea of losing consciousness to wake to find I'm being fucked. He's also into tantric sex and I'm dying to learn about it.

And then, some free time with IM Daddys. Two of which live in the city. But to realize our naughty chats into real life would make the world explode in firey sparks.


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Time management, I guess. And, unpacking the nest, setting up the living situation, making myself at home, getting the rotation in order, feeling free and fancy fun! My dining room windows face north, face the street, are smack viewing the middle of two lovely trees. I feel like I live in a tree house. Climb up to be recluse and free. I can walk about the apartment naked (the living room and bed room windows face an adjacent building but their shades are always drawn and I'm in between 2 apartments, so my blinds are mostly drawn - to protect the innocent). I can unpack, repack, make a mess, make sounds, be quiet, invite over, leave, change, re-change, dress up, dress down, prepare, let go, .... be free!!!! Free! I feel so free!

I'm facing a lot of shit outside this little treehouse. Dad has 10-15% chance of living past 3 years, but I keep hearing from folks who were told the same thing about their parents (pro-Domme lady included) and their family members lived long, long lives. Work is busy and crazy and challenging and fun -- and good for the world!

So, you might think the red light is hanging outside my window blinking, flashing, calling to the fellas. But I think I have a really great situation. Wonderfully amazing, complex men and women in my life. Caring and sexy, honest and breathing, full of dimensions in emotion, intimacy, dedication to life.

I have a new thought of late. A thought that comes once in a while. A thought that how nice it would be to find a poly primary partner to settle in with a bit and keep playing around together and on our own. So far that hasn't been in the cards. I'm open to it. I'm not afraid of the emotions that come with it, or the work or the love. But I'm not calling for it strongly. I'm just.. lazily entertaining the idea. Feeling a bit jilted momentarily that it's not immediate when I crave it, but I am enjoying what life is bringing. I can't help the naive, idealistic, new eyes I have on. Or the fact that it's a state of being for me. I consider the nightmare possibilities of things, but know that the idealistic positive is more realistic and achievable. I could end up dying a lonely, sad, prolonged, painful death ----- but, damn!, have I lived a fucking stellar, amazing, exciting, uplifting, wonderful life!

I'm the luckiest girl in the whole wide world!