Courtesan vs. Slut

I've just recently (as in this week) finally finished watching Firefly for the first time. I know, I know. I'm a bit late on doing this, but at least I finally got to watch the awesomeness that is Firefly. During lunch today, as I was sitting in my car listening to music and eating the chili I had gotten from Wendy's (that's some good shit, yo!), I started thinking about my characters that I play in the rpg's I participate in. For those on in the know, rpg stands for role playing game. You know, like Dungeons & Dragons.

Anyhow, I started thinking about the current game I'm playing in (it's a Star Wars campaign) and my character development. My character is a young Noble who has left her planet for the first time ever in order to journey across the galaxy and also perhaps find out who her father is. She is skilled not only in mercantilism but also in how to be a courtesan because of her very nature. Anyone that has read the Star Wars guide books or has access to them can look this up. She is a hybrid of Zeltron and Deveronian. To say she has skills would be the biggest understatement of the year.

To date, in the game, she has not used any of her.. more sexual.. skills. She has tried to be the quintessential noble woman. Now her ship has been sabotaged and she has lost contact with her mother. Her guards (the other players in the group) are the only people she knows on Coruscant. Things are looking bleak for them as ALL of her credits have also been waylaid in the process. I realized that with everything going on, she may end up turning towards her base nature of her Zeltron (hedonistic) half to start trying to produce results.

When I realized this, I started thinking of my characters in past campaigns and every single one of them  have been very sexual. I have tried to keep sex from being a large part of my characters in the past and have failed. I can't seem to help myself. Maybe sometime I will play a character that is a prude. That would be very... interesting. And difficult.

All of this led me to think of Firefly and the companion they had aboard the ship. Inara. And also Kaylee. The differences between the two are very great. Inara is worldly and wise in the way of both men and women. She knows how to fulfill their most base desires and needs. Kaylee, on the other hand, was very innocent in her view of sex. She thought it was awesome but it no big deal to her. The one episode where Inara entertained a female client, Kaylee thought they looked wonderful together. She saw no wrong with anything Inara did. I'm not getting the way I see Kaylee across quite well enough so I think I'll leave that bit end for now.

It occurred to me, during my thinking (and this was approximately 15 minutes of thinking. I do way too much of it, I think. LOL) at lunch, that I associate myself very closely with Inara. But I also associate a bit with Kaylee and River too even. Mostly with Inara though. I don't consider myself to be a slut. Oh, don't get me wrong, I can be very much the slut, given the right situation and I enjoy it very much during those moments too. But generally speaking, I do not consider myself a slut.

If I had to consider myself anything, I'd have to say I'm more like the companion Inara is. Or perhaps better put, a courtesan. Sex to me, is the ends to which seduction is the means. The seduction enhances the flavor of the sex to the point where your mouth waters and your loins moisten at the mere thought of it. Sex without the seduction is like having popcorn without the butter and everything else that makes it so fatteningly yummy. Seduction is about the senses. It is scintillating. It catches the mind as well as the body.

Have I been schooled as a proper courtesan? No. What I have learned has been through some teaching, but mostly is my innate ability to judge my partner and make the proper body language to signify I am interested. I enjoy the challenge of someone who isn't so certain he wants a taste of what I have to offer. I have several of those I could mention were I to be so inclined but this is not the place nor the time to do so.

When my vision narrows to that person I most desire at that moment, I instantly become very aware of what they need and desire at that moment. I honestly can't think of anyone I have wanted to be with that, when I've made the moves, I haven't gotten. I do not say this to brag. I am being fully honest about who I am and what I do. I know men. I know what they want and what they desire. Have I used seduction as a means to get what I want? Yes, but it is almost always to the satisfaction of all parties involved.

Seduction is an art that many women fail to master. Why this is, I have no idea. To be a woman is to be seduction. I love that knowledge that I am wanted. I love the look a man gives you when he desires to be between your legs. It is heady to feel the desire rolling off of him, surrounding me. Seeing his eyes burn with that need that only I can fulfill at that moment. The following moment may take him to another woman, but for that one moment in time, his eyes are on me. Men tell you they desire you with their eyes and their lips, their hands.

Women are another subject altogether. They burn differently. They are a soft heat that radiates and draws you to them, to feel their moistness about you, their essence caressing you as though you were wrapped in silk. When she brings her hand up to the side of your face, her head falling back as you kiss her neck and her hips swaying uncontrollably. She will tell you with her body language she wants you. Her hips, the arch of her spine and the sway of her hair against your hands; her breathing even. When they see you, when they desire you, in that moment, they only see you when they look at you. All else fades and you are all they see. At least this is what happens with me.

In the moment of seduction, I feel everyone around me. Their desire abounds and I take that desire and turn it back on them tenfold. I cannot explain how it is that I do this but I have been equated to a conductor before. Give me the chance and I can please you greatly... if you can capture my attention.

Ode to that one I loathe so much...

Why? Why must you eye me from the crease of the couch where you sit? OH SHIT! Now you've gotten closer! I must flee your mighty presence before my shrill screech wakes the house. What will make you go away? Shall I set a trap for you and catch you in my dastardly clutches until your insides melt and your skeleton rots with the stench of your flesh? Shall I bash you with a broom until your legs can no longer move as I've broken them into bits?

Why must you follow me even though I've poisoned you? Why!? I have shoved you into holes and stabbed you with screwdrivers. I have sprayed you and made you limp away only to lay paralyzed while I attack you yet again. I MUST make sure you're dead. I can't sit still until I do. And  yet you keep coming back for more!

I have bashed, beaten, trapped, poisoned, drowned, stabbed and bludgeoned you to death. Yet I cannot seem to rid myself of you. I turn around and there you are again. I've squealed for you and jumped higher than I ever thought possible for you. What more could you possibly want from me??? You are that invisible stalker, never to go away; always there when I look again.

Oh, cockroach. I shall beat you yet.

My own little neurosis

I started watching Hoarders and it made me realize one of my issues. When I was younger, I had to constantly keep an eye on anything that was considered mine or it could disappear in the blink of an eye. People were the cause of it disappearing. My younger sisters and my stepbrother. Did this cause me to become a hoarder? No, because I have no problems getting rid of things that are no longer of any benefit to me and my house shows the truth of that. But what it did cause was for me to get severely upset when someone touches/moves my things without my express permission.

When I married my husband and moved in with him, he rearranged my figurines four times within the first month of my being in the house. I had to sit him down and ask him not to move anything further for my piece of mind. The instant I see something moved, it's almost like a rush of adrenaline and fear runs through me that something I consider precious might be gone. Him being in my life has caused my panic attacks when people touch anything of mine to lessen because he has proven that he will not get rid of anything without me approving of it.

I have more control over myself now than I used to. I have to mentally talk myself out of having an anxiety attack and I have gotten to the point where the moment of anxiety is just that. It is a moment and then I make myself let go. Is it possible that I could get to the point where I have no issues at all with someone touching my things? Even now, if it is someone that I don't know very well that touches something of mine, if I'm not there to "supervise" the touching, I tend to get upset. I don't know how well I am at concealing my feelings regarding this but I do try because they have no idea about my neurosis.

When I move things that I have packed away that are fragile, I have to be the one to move them. I actually start pacing when I am not in control of my objects for fear that the person handling them will drop them and break something. I can't sit still until I know my things are within reach again and I can touch them.

Does this cause problems in my life? For the most part, no. But it does need to be acknowledged. It is a part of who I am. The wild chaotic world that goes on in my mind. I know I am not as bad as some people that can't live a normal life due to their problems and for that I am thankful. I am a work in progress and as long as I continue to work to become better than what I was, I feel like I'm doing pretty good.

"Nevermore," quothe the raven...

I came across my sister's family Christmas pictures today and noticed that, yet again, the whole family (her family and my grandparents) got together for pictures and I wasn't included. This time they didn't even call to see if I wanted to go. You would think that after years of not being included in family gatherings, I wouldn't be bothered by this. And yet upon seeing myself missing from these family pictures once again, I find myself upset once again.

I remember the moment I stopped forcing my way into family portraits. It was the last set of pictures my great grandparents were in that I attended. My husband and I showed up and I stood off to the side and we watched as the pictures were taken. Never once did the ask me to come along and be in any of the pictures. After we had left, my husband turned to me and asked me why? Why hadn't they included me? I turned to him and told him that he was finally seeing what I had been living with my entire life.

There are very few times I can remember that I didn't have to force my way into being included into a family social gathering/vacation. That moment with those pictures being taken was the decisive moment for me, when I decided I would no longer force myself where I was not wanted. Oh, they will call me every so often, but it's usually either because they want something from me or they want to buy something for my daughter.

My sister has passed not five minutes by my house. The only times she's been to my house was when I was helping her with her Algebra homework and for my daughter's birthday. Never once has she been by simply to visit and say hello. Hell, she didn't even show up to the hospital when my daughter was born. In fact, she went into a snit fit because we hadn't told her we were at the hospital having her when  I went into labor, but that's a whole different story all it's own.

And then I saw the pictures today and it reminded me once again that the family I was born into does not want me. They don't see it that way and they don't understand how I can think the way I do. How do you explain to someone that they're a selfish asshole and never think of anything that isn't materialistic? And yet I try to maintain contact and goodwill with them for my daughter's sake. I can't stand to think of her growing up not knowing her family, even if it's only to know they're people she should stay away from.

I should also probably note that all of this is my mother's side of the family (aside from my sister since she's my full-blooded sister). My dad's family is the exact opposite. It's as if the families took each of us as their favorite and could care less about the other. My dad's family even told me that I was the hope for the continuance of the family because my sister didn't count to them. To say I love them dearly is an understatement.

My mother and my father divorced when I was three years old. I grew up with three stepmothers, each of which brought their own horrors. To say that I never really had a mother figure would be quite accurate actually. To this day I find myself having difficulties having any type of relationship with women, primarily because I don't know how to interact with them. The majority of the examples I had in my youth were not what one would consider worthy of teaching a young child to interact well with her peers.

Combine this with the fact that I had no friends in school because I was the one chosen for everyone to pick on and you have quite the multitude of issues to overcome. Have I done things I would consider embarrassing today to get by and survive? Yes. I have been told I should not be embarrassed by them as they were simply the means to an end. They were also done by a child that had one to teach her; that had no one to protect her. Is it any wonder that I am ambitious and unable to stay in one position for too long without becoming fidgety?

I did not mean to dredge up old fears and hurts but apparently that is the theme for today. Thank you, dear sister, for yet again pouring salt into that wound that never heals. For the most part, I have come to terms with many of the issues from my past. There are a few, however, that continue to raise their head every so often when I'm least expecting them to. At times such as this, I do feel a bitterness about many things but luckily it only lasts a short time before I can move on again.

I prefer to carry these moments silently, not sharing them with anyone as they are my own personal demons. No one deserves to bear the brunt of my pain during these moments as there is nothing they can do to help (unless of course they want to snuggle me, which ALWAYS helps). Only I can overcome those issues carried so deeply within my bones.

It is difficult for me to be open about these issues I have. It is even more difficult to let anyone know when I am in the middle of one of these moments of pain, when the memories sweep over and I cry into my pillow. Of course the worst times are usually when I'm by myself. This is why when I start feeling the memories sweep over, I reach for someone, for anyone near by that can distract me from my past, and remind me of what I have now.

Apparently tonight's blog as turned towards the darker side but I won't apologize for that. This is who I am and those of you that care to read are reading what I put forth for you to read. You're reading me.

Food cravings vs. actual hunger

After spending time with LovingMaster45 (anyone who is friends with me on Fetlife can find him on my relationships list and my friend list) last weekend, I realized that while I was with him, I didn't feel hungry.

This made me question whether the "hunger" I feel on most days is actual hunger or just a craving for food. Hungers and desires for various things that aren't being fulfilled can manifest in other ways within a person. With that having been said, I believe my desires/needs for all things considered kink is not met on most days. When I am around someone who fulfills that need, that desire, I'm not hungry. In fact, food is simply the means with which to provide me with the energy I need to function. Which is how it *should* be.

I know all too well the difference between a craving and actual hunger. Real hunger, the kind that eats away at you, is that gnawing in your stomach, that rumble that signifies your stomach being truly empty. It hurts physically. Cravings don't hurt. They might gnaw at your mind, because they're mental, but they don't eat at you physically. Cravings can be controlled. Hunger only grows worse with time.

When I started my journey so many years ago (yes I know, 13 years is not that many for people that are older than me, but for me it seems a long time), I never expected kink to become so integral to me. Yes I realized it was a part of who I am, but what I did not realize is that it isn't just a part of who I am. It *IS* who I am. Period. Without it, I would surely be a husk of a person, subsisting to survive and nothing more.

I realize that with my current obligations and the path set as it is, it will most likely not happen for a long time that I can actually have kink infused in my every day life.  This brings to mind the question of how I should deal with the food cravings which are actually the craving for something more than what I have every day?

The first step is to realize and acknowledge the cravings. The second is to not give in. I can do this. I've done it before. If I want to lose the weight I need to lose to feel better about myself, I HAVE to pay attention. I have to exert self control over myself. The third step is to incorporate kink into my life where I can. This step is a work in progress. I am getting better and becoming closer to my kink family and finding the time where I can to spend with them. It is not nearly as much as I wish it to be but it is getting better.

I felt that I should add more to this but I just can't seem to come up with anything else at this time so I am going to end it here and to those I don't get to speak with before next Thursday, I wish everyone a happy Thanksgiving.

So Much Happiness

Yet one more person that does not truly wish to be close to me has weeded themselves from amongst the close group of trusted individuals. It is difficult for me to understand why people don't want to be close to me but I understand that everyone is different. Their needs are different from mine and their point of view may clash with mine. All I can say is that I wish them the best of luck in their journay and I wish them nothing but the best for their future.

On another topic, another of my kinky family has met  my husband and the meeting went stunningly well. The only thing that could be more totally awesomelly fantastically mind blowing would to be snuggled between them both. While I know and realize this may never happen, it is still more than I would have dared to even think of before the two met. I'm just so happy right now I'm almost floating. This has been 10 years in coming with the situation never occuring just right for the two of them to meet. I just really don't believe I can convey accurately the level of happiness this brings to me.

I don't know why it's so surprising that they do get on well, I mean they're both intelligent, well-read and well-spoken men. I guess it's just that they both have strong personalities. It's like bringing two dogs together for the first time. You don't know how they'll respond until that particular moment occurs. We went to a motorcycle swap meet today and I ended up sunburned. Then we came home (hubby had stayed home to sleep as he has to work tonight), and I woke him momentarily to let him know that we were here. He got up a bit later and made dinner (spaghetti even!!! woot!) for all of us and the two of them conversed as if they had known each other for a while.

It was.. a weight off of my shoulders. I started getting butterflies the closer it came to time for us to leave to come home and now... *squees inside and happy dances her happy young Velma dance of joy* I truly believe I am on the path that "someone" (the lady/power/goddess that has yet to give me a name) wishes me to be. My cup truly overflows with happiness and joy that the family I have made for myself both with my husband and kinkwise is turning out to mesh so very well.

Thank you, Lady, for smiling down so sweetly on me.

Music and musings from within

I was on my way home today and listening to music as I tend to do when I'm driving. The thought crossed my mind that my tastes in music have gradually changed over the years. I used to listen to a good portion of country and 80's metal (Van Halen, Ozzy and the like). Now I listen to more mellow music. Don't get me wrong, I still love things like Godsmack and Stone Sour but I go for a calmer more inward seeking music.

Give me guitars, drums and pianos. I can feel these instruments. When I realized that was why I preferred the softer music, I started asking myself WHY I felt this way and it occurred to me that I think of the different pitches in the way the react with my body. Low drum beats, bass guitar and pianos I feel deep within the core of my body whereas electric guitars and the higher pitched noises go straight to my head. It's like hearing a dog whistle or nails scraping across a chalkboard for me.

Lower tones I feel each beat of the drum or each key of the piano touching, the bass guitar or even a regular guitar as long it's not higher pitched. These all go through me and cause me to seek inwards that which I feel with every fiber of my being. The high pitches disrupt the harmony of my mind and are almost as if the strands of the web that make up my mind become entangled and it hurts to think. It's all sharp angles and lines with higher pitches, but with lower its curves and grooves that fit oh so well.

Someone once said they were surprised that I don't describe myself using rock music more than I do. I hadn't thought about it until then but it's true. I use songs like Lady in Red or Just Breathe or Ebudae when thinking on songs that reflect who I am. I believe this is because my emotions are very strongly tied to music. When I listen to a song, my emotions tend to turn towards the direction of the song. If it is an angry song, I feel angry. If it is calm and flowing, I feel the same. If it is happy and bouncy (Popcorn, the Crazy Frog version is a good example of this), so am I. So in picking music, I try to pick music that matches my mood.

Something like Godsmack (like Keep Away) is for when I'm pissed off at the world and/or wishing to rail against the cage of my own making. I do have those emotions inside and they do need to be let out every once in a while, but it's usually when I'm by myself and I can beat on an inanimate object and no one will ever know that I was that upset. But when I think of myself in general, angry isn't how I see me. I guess this is a good thing when you think about my past.

I don't know what all of this says about me but I just felt like it had to be said so here it is.

I don't know what to title this one.

I had a longstanding friend/mentor tell me not too long ago that she thought I was a mystery. She asked how three girls could be in the same situation and one of them end up bettering herself and having a drive and ambition where the other two ended up a waste of human flesh that should be castigated and sent to live on "the island."

One of the biggest differences is genetics. My two younger sisters are not my full-blooded sisters. They have a different mother. The other difference is that I had my grandmother's influence. When my sisters' mother was in the picture (my first stepmother), there were very bad things that happened to me that I have no memories of. During this time, one of the few things I **DO** remember is my grandmother telling me that if I wanted to be the better person, I'd learn more, make good grades and live my life better than my stepmother could ever dream of.

I'm going back to school to finish getting my Associates in Accounting and I'm working in a good stable job environment. I'm also working on a superbly viable business opportunity with some very wonderful people and I have surrounded myself with people that truly care about me.

It has been said by several of these people in conversation that I need protection. This is a profound statement to me as the first 18 years of my life, I was my protection. It was me against the world. Now I have support to lean on. There are times when that statement is enough to overwhelm me and drive me to be speechless.

Sometimes it is difficult for me to believe that I truly am sexy, that people really do want me. When people tell me that they want to be around me, when they call me beautiful and pretty and smart and any other number of things people tell those they adore, it astounds me. I don't understand how they can see me as desirable and yet they do. They'll never know how much I appreciate these things they say so easily.

Everyone who's family/circle I belong to is truly special to me. They each have their own individual place within my heart. They each care about me in their own way and I love them for this. I am a multifaceted creature and they fill different facets of my personality. I don't go hungry when I'm surrounded by them.