Wednesday, May 27, 2009


Ok, I'm not working now because all our websites simultaneously shit themselves and now refuse to load. I can't go in chat, and I figure if neither my friend L. on our Internet or I on B. and J.'s Internet can pull up the pages, neither can the dudes, so there won't be too many calls, anyhow.

Plus, I've been alternating between working my ass off and being Laundry Bitch, so I can take a break, especially since it'll be time to eat soon, since Mattress just got home. I'll log in again tonight when I go to bed.

No rest for the wicked and all that.

I know I'm, like, the epitome of moody, but I'm really happy today. I've been happy since I've been here. Someone--not calling any names *ahem, B., ahem*--found it extremely amusing that I was sitting at his feet crying softly into his fur yesterday because I was so happy.

It's just being around them when I'm in such a submissive mindset that brings me such peace and contentment. They don't have to even do anything, just be there and let me purr at them. :)

Also, J. gets bonus points for dinner today because it's almost my girl time, I think. (That's not why she gets bonus points.) It's because at that time, I crave three things: pasta (well, I always crave pasta), grease, and green vegetables (I pretty much always crave these, too). And she fixed macaroni and cheese, cheddar brats, and steamed mixed veggies for dinner. So yay! :D If I just had the chocolate-peanut butter-oatmeal cookies I've been craving the past few days, I'd be fabulous.

Plus, playing last night helped my mood tremendously. I can almost guarantee that playing again tonight will help it even more. *Evil grin*

Even being Laundry Bitch made me feel better. Which is truly weird, I admit. But, I dunno, it makes me feel, well, useful or something. Rather than just sitting here stupidly and uselessly, which makes me feel like there's not much point in me being here.

Ugh, stupid slave-girl. I can't even begin to understand myself sometimes, much less really expect anyone else to, LOL.

I'm still making plans to bring two of my most favoritest people, both of whom I write this blog for ;), back home with me soon. Well, whenever they have a day of the weekend free. 'Cause I'm going to take them out and spoil them (along with L., of course). Movie + fantastic Chinese = a good waste of a weekend night.

Ok, I really don't have anything interesting to say at the moment, I'm afraid. Just that I'm happy. :)

Monday, May 25, 2009


I miss them.

I'm tired of posting these stupid, melancholy, whiny-ass blogs about how much I miss them. Desperation and clinginess are not attractive traits in a person, particularly a slave-girl. Seems that's all I do nowadays, though.

It's so bad that my friend L. just looks at me when I'm whining about something completely unrelated and says, "Hurry up and go see them." The "before you run me crazy" part on the end is implied.

I just don't want to need them so much that I ultimately push them away.

I don't like being here 'cause it sucks. This whole town sucks, and I've been here much too long (7 years). Truth is, the only reason I'm still here is that I don't feel like I have anywhere else to go. My lease runs out in August, and I have no idea where I'm going to go or what I'm going to do next.

I'm just NOT staying here. And I'll be damned if I'm going home, which really isn't "home" anymore, anyway.

That kind of leaves me a gypsy. I don't really have anywhere to go, and I don't much like the idea of going somewhere I don't know anyone. That didn't work out so well for me the first time.

But when I'm with them, I feel like I belong somewhere. I guess maybe that's why I'm almost always lonely when I'm not with them or something. Or maybe I'm really just crazy and whiny.

Either way, I hope I get to see them soon. The little girl in me doesn't like not being close to them. :(

Wednesday, May 20, 2009


I have a problem with trusting people.

We can psychoanalyze this all we want to, as I'm sure there are multiple causes for it, but most of them boil down to simple operant conditioning. I trust people; they fuck me over. Which, of course, makes me wary about trusting people next time.

Obviously, this kind of thing happens to everyone on the face of the planet. I'm hardly alone in this respect. I just either have extraordinarily bad luck, or I'm a terrible judge of character.

I know J. gets upset at me sometimes because she feels like I don't trust her, no matter what she does. But I just want her to know not to take it personally, that it's nothing she's done to make me be distrustful.

I must have a neon sign above my head that says, "PLEASE FUCK ME OVER!" because I attract losers and users of all sorts. It pretty much never fails that if I put my trust in someone, that person is going to think of some new and improved way to screw me.

I think it's because I go out of my way to be nice to people. I let myself be bullied and walked all over because I...well, I don't know why, actually. I guess because I'm a people-pleaser, and I want other people to be happy? I dunno. I could play the "I'm a natural submissive" card, but I think that's a cop-out. I know I'm ultimately the one responsible for the fact that I can't tell people no.

I'm pretty sure the lack of trust thing is somehow tied in with J.'s other complaint about me, that I'm too withdrawn and un-affectionate. (Which is another thing she shouldn't take personally. I've loved B. for years, for much longer than I care to admit, and you know when I finally managed to tell him to his face? Um, October. Yeah, like, 7 months ago October. Oh, and I was bound to the point of being completely immobile, AND I was totally hooded, so I didn't have to look at him while I said it. Me? A chickenshit? Never!)

So the fact that I've told J. how I feel about her (albeit while she had her fist buried inside me) this quickly should be an indication of how much I've fallen for her already. *Blush*

But, anyway, I didn't write this to complain or bitch or try to find something to blame my innumerable issues on. It was just my weird way of trying to explain myself and hopefully make J. feel better.

I'm going to try to do better. I really am.

The truth is, as goofy as it sounds, after all the drama that went on over the weekend, I actually feel BETTER about everything. Not that I'd ever recommend to anyone else that particular method of making oneself more secure in one's relationship, but, you know, whatever. They got really angry at me. I hurt them really badly over what amounted to a fundamental breakdown in communication among the three of us. I allowed myself to believe the worst when that wasn't actually the case. I did various and sundry other stupid things and made them not trust me anymore.

But you know what? Now I know they DO care about me. They aren't just tolerating me because they can't figure out how to get rid of me. If that were the case, they would've seized on the events of this weekend as an excuse to kick me to the curb.

But they didn't. A lot of things were discussed, and there were some changes in perspective. And, weirdly enough, even though their trust in me may perhaps be shaken, mine in them is much, much stronger. Oh, what a tangled web we weave, etc., etc.

They want me. I can't imagine why, but they do.

I don't deserve these two. Really, I don't.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Being Submissive And The Bad Bondage Analogy

I have a lot I want to say, but I don't quite know how to say it. Talk about an edumacation going to waste there, huh?

I, badly to be submissive. Not in that annoying kind of way (or, at least, I hope not). It makes me feel, I dunno, safe, in some convoluted sort of way.

I'm trying to figure out how to explain it without sounding like a total dumbass. I think I shall attempt some lame analogy.

It's like bondage. I'm not someone who actually gets off on bondage. I mean, yes, it's fun, especially wiggling around when I know I can't get loose, but I don't think I've ever in my life gone "OMG, ROPE, UNNNGGGGHHH!!!!" *cums* like some bitches claim to do. It's just when I'm bound, I feel safe and secure. Well, at least when I'm being tied up by someone I trust. Otherwise, well, it ain't pretty.

It kind of works the same way when I'm being submissive/being dominated/whatever. I don't have, like, this overwhelming need to be guided or controlled or anything like that. (And, yes, I'm a cunt and like to make fun of bitches who say they need guidance because a.) it amuses me, and b.) they almost always spell it wrong.)

Like, service calms my soul. Which sounds almost as stupid as saying I need "guidence" (misspelling intentional), but let's overlook my hypocrisy for a moment. I just feel so secure when I'm pleasing someone else. Then, there's that whole "they love me enough to see me at my most vulnerable and still wanna keep me, anyway" thing.

But, yeah, when I can't quite be as submissive as I need to be, I get to feeling insecure, and then when I get to feeling insecure, I do stupid things. I don't doubt that my inner vulnerable, scared little girl had something to do with the stupid shit that's transpired lately.

I guess I just don't know how to express it sometimes. It kind of seems obnoxious to just show up and hand my leash to them. And I know that it's my moodiness that makes it hard for J. and B. to give me what I need. Well, what I hope we all need, actually.

But I dunno. I crave consistency and submission. Too many rules annoy me, of course, because I'm a loner at heart, but certain boundaries keep me sane. But then I know I push J. and B. away and make it hard for them to give me that. And then that makes me more insecure, which makes me push them away more, etc. It's a chicken/egg conundrum.

I want to make it easier for them. My no-longer-friend K. and I had this discussion before she acted like a complete and total asshole. She was bitching because her idiot husband didn't "make her feel submissive" anymore. I, of course, think that's kind of a cop-out. It's not B. and J.'s place to make me feel submissive. So I want to work on that myself.

I think I had a point in mind when I started this, but I've had so many interruptions that I've completely lost it now. Anyway...I hope this made at least a tiny bit of sense.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

I Dedicate This Blog To My Vanity And Massive Ego

I went shopping with my kinfolks today.

In retrospect, I know it was a really bad idea. But I felt guilty (yes, same theme, different variation) because I went to the concert Friday and didn't spend the entire weekend with my mother. Then, Mother offered to buy me something.

I'm a shopaholic. I'm not turning down an offer like that, however ill-advised it might be.

So due to the fact that nothing I liked fit because of my massive midsection and lack of any discernible waistline, I started feeling shitty.

Actually, let me go back for a moment. I was looking at some pics of myself the other day in which I'm wearing no makeup, and I started feeling shitty THEN. Today, when I couldn't find anything that fit right on me, it just got worse.

The insulin resistance from the PCOS is so bad that I probably have full-blown diabetes at this point. God knows, the sugar cravings are insane. I think I could eat sugar straight out of the goddamned canister at this point. Also, I know my blood pressure is suffering 'cause I have those headaches every day that I used to only have when I was so angry I could murder someone.

When I was a freshman in college, I wasn't exactly thin, but I hovered around the 170 mark, which, for my height and build, isn't too bad. I looked decent, too. Then, I got fat, but I could still say, "Well, I may be fat, but at least I'm not ugly, too." Because I'm nothing if not vain and egomaniacal.

But now, I can't lose weight for shit because of this stupid disease...thing. I don't have the money to get treated for it, either.

So I'm fat. My hair's falling out. I have greasy skin that, even after I shower, is gross and shiny after about 15 minutes. I still have acne, for God's sake, and I'm 25 years old. (And it's not like it's an easily-remedied skin problem. It's damned persistent, and I've figured out the best way to deal with it is to leave it alone for the most part.)

And, you know, I used to have this really pretty pinky-looking complexion that looked fantastic with all my favorite colors. But all the insulin spillage has stained my skin. I have large patches of sallow yellowish looking skin. And then in other places, like my elbows and the back of my neck, have turned dark brown or, in the case of my left elbow, black. Even my eyelids are getting that ugly yellow-brown tone. I Googled the medical name--acanthosis nigricans.

(Not that I imagine it really matters, but just in case people think I'm nutty and making this shit up.)

I look much older than I really am. And I look like the stereotypical fat woman--greasy, nasty-looking, icky skin. All I need to do is stop wearing deodorant and start mouth-breathing and the picture will be complete.

I know I'm vain, but every woman wants to at least be able to fool herself into thinking she's moderately attractive. I've always been kind of mannish, I know, and I've always been kind of ashamed of my lack of femininity. But at least I was still kind of decent-looking when I dressed up and did my hair and makeup.

Now I look like a troll. All because I have too much testosterone in my system for a chick.

I know, I'm being ridiculous. But I want to be pretty again, goddammit! Or, at least, not this giant, lumbering, disgusting man (complete with beer belly and huge upper arms 'cause that's how insulin resistant people gain weight) and tits. And don't even get me started on the fog my brain's always in from this shit.

So fuck it. I'm wallowing in self-pity. Maybe it's stupid to feel sorry for yourself because you hate the way you look, but whatever. In spite of the fact that I LOOK like a man, I'm still a woman, so I'm entitled to my vanity.

Another Blog

It's me again.

I'm not sure what happened. I've gone from really, really aggressive and sadistic last week to extremely submissive today. Probably if someone tracked my moods, they'd find that the more stressed I get, the more submissive I become. I get tired of always having to be the one to take care of things because I feel like I fuck everything I touch up.

My submissive moods vary, too. Sometimes, I need to feel my lack of control over a given situation (hence the various "force/rape" fantasies a few weeks ago). Sometimes, I'm more masochistic than submissive. Sometimes, I want to feel deep, dark humiliation and degradation, particularly on an emotional level (which is probably the old self-destructive impulse kicking in in new and exciting ways). Sometimes, my inner seven-year-old takes over.

Then, there are times, like right now, that I don't care about anything but pleasing my two owner-type people. If they want to whip me bloody, I want them to whip me bloody. If they want me to bake cookies, I want to bake cookies. If they want me to clean and do laundry, I want to clean and do laundry. If they want to fuck me stupid, I want them to fuck me stupid. If they want to snuggle me between them and make a slave-girl sandwich, I want them to snuggle me between them and make a slave-girl sandwich. If they want me to orally service them and a roomful of other people I've never met...well, you get the idea.

I don't really think of myself as terribly complex, but even I sort of get lost in the weird labyrinth of my own sexual identity. Some people can nail themselves down; I can't. Submissive me vaguely self-identifies as "service pet." That's about as close as I can come to a good, short descriptor for myself.

But now, I feel the "service" part heavily.

All I want to do right now is to serve, to please. I literally do not care about anything in the world but their pleasure, whatever it may be. I crave the feeling of sitting quietly at their feet while I await being told what to do.

When they're happy, I'm happy. When they're pleased, I'm pleased. It's so hard to break through my defenses, to get to me, to make me care about someone. But then, when I do, they're there in my heart forever. I'm not a half-assed kind of person. I don't do things halfway. I don't know HOW to do things halfway.

Love and service, in my mind, in my heart, are closely intertwined. I am stupidly devoted to Master and Mistress, and serving them is my way of showing it.

So, my loves, what can your devoted and slightly demented pet do to make you happy?

Saturday, May 9, 2009

*Insert Sound Of Slave-Girl Pulling Her Hair Out Here*

In the last couple of days, my blood pressure has gone from high to ridiculous. Between being stranded last night (twice) and pretty much all my "friends" blowing me off, trying to keep my friend K.'s husband from killing some drunk dude in the Waffle House last night who kept hitting on us, and telling our neighbors today, "Sure, you can try and tow mine and L.'s vehicles...if you think you're man enough," I just want to strangle someone. Repeatedly. Isn't it Lake Superior they say never gives up her dead? Or is that some other large body of water in the Midwest?

Add that in with the "friend" drama from a couple of weeks of ago, and I've had enough.

I'm not a dramatic person myself (usually). But somehow or another, shit always happens to me, and I get dragged into other people's bullshit. On the way home last night at 3 am, K. told me that most of my problem is that I let people walk all over me. And she's right. But unless I'm absolutely flaming mad, I cannot tell people no or to fuck off or whatever.

And so, in the interest of not giving myself a heart attack or an aneurysm, I'm going to cut some of these toxic people out of my life. No big to-do or anything. I'm just going to stop having anything to do with them and not say a word about it. I doubt most of them will notice, anyhow.

I'm weeding out friends faster than I can make new ones, it appears. That's kind of a scary prospect for me. I don't make friends easily. But maybe that's better than having a bunch of leeches hanging onto you and sucking the life out of you. I dunno.

I remember when I was a freshman in college. I didn't have any friends here. None at all. I'd gone home for my cousin's birthday one night, and then I was coming back to my place later. It was raining, and the tires on my car weren't the best. I hydroplaned going up the side of a mountain and crashed into a concrete ditch...thingie.

I was fine. Just shaken. I love my car, and it was torn all to pieces. I was heartbroken. But I had no one in town I could call. I stood out on the side of the road in the pouring rain while they towed my poor car away. The cops drove off and left me standing there. Luckily, a good Samaritan had pulled over when I wrecked and let me sit in his car and use his phone to call my parents because I'd lost mine in the excitement.

He took me somewhere safe to meet my parents and sat with my soaking wet ass until they arrived an hour and a half later. Then, Mother and Daddy took me back to their place. I was just lucky the guy wasn't a serial killer, but I wasn't exactly left with any options at that point.

It was equal parts sad and humiliating that, at 19 years old, the only people I could call were my mama and daddy.

I decided then that I wasn't going to live the rest of my life that way, that I was going to make friends somehow. So I joined the sorority the next semester and made friends whom I thought were real friends.

Last night, two of those sorority sisters/friends told me tough shit when I was stranded on the side of the road in a moment eerily like the one several years earlier, minus the wreckage and the thunderstorm.

Cutting these people out of my life is scary, but I have to do it for the sake of my own mental health. I'm tired of giving and giving and giving to people and not even being able to count on them when I really need them. I have to meet new people who aren't assholes. That's also scary.

Thanks bunches to B. and J. for coming and rescuing us last night. I felt horrible about bothering them because I knew they were busy. But if I'd had anyone else to call, I wouldn't have bugged them.

I have more I want to say, but I just got to Mother and Daddy's, and, while no one's here now, I'd like to get something to eat. I'll probably post some more tonight.

Monday, May 4, 2009

My Rambling

56 log-in hours since Thursday. $365. Part of it on last week's check. Part of it on this week's. Not hardly worth it, is it?

I'm really mentally exhausted. I know it sounds stupid. But ugh.

The good news is, I'm doing the Cinco de Mayo thing with my friends tomorrow. Then, on Wednesday, one of those subbies I mentioned in a previous blog is taking me to lunch. That'll be some much-needed time away.

The subbie might turn out to be more or less what I'm looking for as long as a.) he doesn't turn totally insane once we actually meet, and b.) he actually is what he claims to be. We shall see. He's one of those fetishy dudes who's into foot worship and wearing panties (*yawn*), which doesn't interest me in the least. But on the other hand, he likes the idea of cuckolding (which IS fun), he claims that he'll clean house, and supposedly can build bondage furniture.

I can tolerate a few totally pointless and idiotic fetishes for someone relatively local I can beat semi-regularly and who'll clean and build me kinky stuff for cheap.

Me = totally not a fetishist

I admit it, though. What I really, really want is a female painslut. They can almost always take more.

I've been this nasty sadistic mood lately. I'm not sure why.

Bad slave-girl. I don't feel submissive at all. I'm in a weird mood. Really weird. *Sigh*

Saturday, May 2, 2009

I Miss Them

I have been so crazy busy for work today. I need the money, but I'm TIRED. I stayed logged in all night last night, and, I swear to God, every time I drifted off to sleep for more than 30 minutes or so, the phone would ring. And, no, it couldn't be random 10ers. Long calls, extend-a-calls, ugh. It was probably 10 this morning before I got to sleep peacefully without any more interruption. I slept until L. sent me a text and woke me up at 4:30.

I was logged in that whole time, too, but no calls, oddly enough. I worked for awhile and went to eat with my crazy kinfolks. THAT was an ordeal. Then, I logged back in when I got home and took a bunch of calls. This pay period just started 4 hours ago, and I've already got $100. (And I've not been logged in the whole 4 hours. I'm not working right this second.)

I'm debating now if I want to work all night again. I need the money, but I'm already sleep-deprived from last night, and the last damn thing I want is some cokehead binger, which is very likely on a Friday night. I may try to actually get some sleep tonight. And I may not. I dunno. I need several more good paychecks to claw my way back out of the hole. I gotta stop slacking.

Ok, I didn't write this blog solely to complain about work. I'm just all bleary-eyed and exhausted because of work. All my friends are asleep, and I'm bored. And I have girl time again, and I'm cramping like a bitch. It's hard to lie down comfortably.

And I miss my favoritest Master and Mistress in the whole world. *Pouts* I need a heating pad (mine is over at L.'s, and I don't feel like going over there and getting it) and a massage and snuggles and a very long night's sleep. I sincerely doubt I'll get any of those tonight, though. :(

I can't wait to see them again.

In other news, I changed my CM profile to say I'm vaguely looking for a subbie boy (or girl) to amuse myself with earlier in the week, and I already have two possible candidates. That didn't take long. They just messaged me out of the blue. The initial evaluations look promising, but who knows if they might turn into total nutjobs? We shall see.

But, yeah, I have to work a LOT this month. L. and I are going to the 3 Doors Down concert on Friday, then I'm going home for Mother's Day. No work that weekend. The next weekend, L. and I are going to the horse show in Columbiana. I'm not riding, but L. wants to try her hand at photographing horses, and I'm one of those losers who thinks a horse show is a good waste of a Saturday night. We invited Mattress, too. I hope she can come (and won't be bored out of her skull.)

Then, I'm going to Tennessee the next weekend, Memorial Day weekend, for the Spring Fun Show in Shelbyville. Of course, I'm going with my mother and "brother" (who isn't really my brother or even kin to me--long story). But, yay, horsies! And possibly new tack or riding clothes. I need a new saddlesuit coat, for sure. Mine won't even freaking button anymore, damn my fat ass.

So no work for several weekends, which means I have to work my ass off during the week and stay logged in overnights and stuff. Ugh. I will be needing a vacation like whoa by the end of the month.

All right, I think I'm about to go wash my face and take out my contacts and (begrudgingly) log in for the night. I still miss Master and Mistress, though. :(