Thursday, April 30, 2009

Wallowing in my submission

I've been writing a lot lately. Just not here. My fingers have been tapping away, committing to what once would have been paper reams of dark scenarios of submission to my sadistic demon muse. Perhaps it is my spring fever - a polite term for the manic spell that my SAD grants me each April. Certainly, I've been horny as hell. Perhaps it is that the beast and I have been feeding each other's perversions with volleys of arousing images. Or perhaps it is that I have been feeling ever closer to my tormentor and his dark side, even though he is being careful to protect me from it when I am in his presence.

He will drop an image into a message, and I will repay him with reply after reply after reply, expanding and embroidering on his own evil thoughts. He pulls me into losing myself in thoughts of tortures that even he wouldn't inflict on me because of not wanting to mar my pale round breasts, of which he is quite fond. He wouldn't do it but I wallow in the scenario.

My body as well as my mind fondles memories of that horrid caning with a strip of cherry wood trim. The caning that left me sobbing. I find myself yearning for that pain. And my nipples... God, my nipples, before he pulled back, the fiend would twist them so badly I'd need help and firm commands to keep from collapsing to the ground. What I wouldn't give for torture like that right this minute!

And then our plans... he still says that one day he will share me with his friends. I do wonder how he will explain me. But still and all, while a year ago the idea horrified me when I read it on other subs' blogs as a real life experience, now I want him to hurry up and arrange it so I can demonstrate my devotion and submit to the degradation that will feed his evil appetites. Always it involves some measure of his spanking me, flogging me, caning me, to get us both into our respective moods and to show his friends how very submissive I am. And then they will rape me, one by one, as he watches and urges them on and encourages them to hurt me.

And he will stand where he can see my eyes and I can see his.
And he will gorge himself on my debasement.
And I will find joy in his arousal.

I don't know where I get this stuff. It festers in me. Part of me wants to disown it. And then I struggle with myself, and look in the mirror and say yes, this is part of who you are. Accept it. Embrace it.

Just as, when the sadist says I am sexy, I look in the mirror and shake my amazing mane of thick, wavy, rich red hair, and say

Yes, my Lord.
You bet I'm sexy.
Damn straight.
I'm sexy.
And I'm horny.
And I'm yours.


cutesy pah said...

Hmmm....the manic mode that your SAD brings on in April? Is that why each Spring I'm so horny I could literally jump the bones of nearly every man I'm near? Having SAD and chronic depression myself, this would certainly explain my behavior each year during the Spring and Summer months.

Always a pleasure reading your blog, sexy!!

Ellie said...

This doesn't have anything to do with your thought-provoking post ... your most recent comment had a 'don't publish' half-way through. Wasn't sure if you meant the whole thing? I can't edit. Can't seem to let it go, either: am too befuddled.

~ Ellie

oatmeal girl said...

cutesy pah - Yes. Exactly. That explains it. Hypersexuality is both a danger and a pleasure of manic spells. One of those things to keep on eye on, along with urges to buy the Brooklyn Bridge.

Ellie - Of course I know you can't edit comments. But I somehow wasn't registering. What I wrote had been simmering inside me for a while and then I just let it out. It was only the last bit that I didn't want to be published, because it's your blog and my problem. A for the rest of it, I don't remember what I wrote and honestly don't care if it's public or not. If you think it would add something to the discussion, you can e-mail it back to me - I promise not to abuse your e-mail address, and I'll re-post the public part. Or just keep it for yourself. That's really what matters most. Honestly, your own comment sparked so many thoughts I could have written for days.

Many hugs. --o.g.

Ellie said...


Word verification is "linger." Unbelievable.

I liked the whole comment, to be truthful. I'll email it back to you. I think. Do I have your email? (I am in complete brain-dead zone these days. It's both fascinating and a tad unnerving. I am aware of it, but I can't seem to get out of the state. If you follow me?).

~ Ellie

oatmeal girl said...

It all makes complete sense, love. You're in shock on top of everything else.

My gmail address is oatmealgirl09 - there's a link to e-mailing me from my profile page.

Be good to yourself.

Anonymous said...

and the whore mistress of scum

oatmeal girl said...

Oh, Anonymous, if only he WOULD honor me with the formal title of mistress, even whore mistress, I would be filled with joy.

However, to characterize my demon muse as scum is a mistake. Evil, yes. Sadistic? Of course, by nature. Reprehensible? Some, many, would probably say so. But scum? I dunno. Doesn't feel quite right.

In any case, I am pleased to know that I aroused such strong feelings in you, and that the thought of such despicable debauchery going on among seemingly respectable people gave you many stimulating images to wrap your brain around while masturbating.

mamacrow said...

og (re your reply to our pet trol anon) I really love you (if it's not inappropriate to say! )

I really rather think I want to be you when I grow up.

oatmeal girl said...

Excuse me, dear. Are you implying I'm grown up?

mamacrow said...

hmmm, am i implying that you're grown up? the way you put it, it sounds like an insult! and I know what you mean!

no, I'm not, but I'd have to grow up a LOT to be like you :)

there, hope that's as clear as mud!

oatmeal girl said...

Oh my God, mamacrow, are you looking up to me? Now THAT's scary. The idea of being some sort of role model...

Ooh, just think the damage I could do!


mamacrow said...

lol! if you can't be a good example, you'll have to serve as a terrible warning!!! :-D