tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11656037625220144702024-03-13T17:19:21.151-04:00submission & metaphorlife and love as performance artoatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.comBlogger1045125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-35631355363121911582021-01-28T18:31:00.002-05:002021-01-28T19:23:14.963-05:00Certified COVID-Safe for Fucking<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Tomorrow.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I’m scheduled to be vaccinated tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Something could always go wrong.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">But if not tomorrow then maybe next week?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">One way or another, an early birthday present.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I’ve started thinking about compiling a list. A list of friends and acquaintances and one time, sometime, some time lovers as they get vaccinated once, twice, and then live through the weeks that follow until the vaccine has done as much as it ever will. And then…<br /><br />I want an orgy.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Well, maybe not an orgy.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I’d rather spread it out.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Savour it.<br /><br />I’ll go through the list, one person at a time.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">For touch.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">For hugs.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">And, <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">where appropriate,<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">and maybe where not quite appropriate,<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">sex.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I need to get laid.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I need to be spanked.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">And then I need to be thoroughly, deeply fucked.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">[pause for fantasies and memories]<br /><br />Ah… if only some of the men I’d wish to have inside me weren’t too young to be vaccinated any time soon. The problem with having a thing for younger men. Not to mention unavailable men. And yes, I’m talking men. I really need cocks right now. Beautiful, beautiful cocks, deep inside me. I’m not really one for dick pics, I want the real thing, and then I’d like to admire them for a while, marvel at them, stroke them as I wonder that such lovely things can exist, attached to this panoply of potential lovers whose appendages I’ve never seen and mostly probably never will, but oh… [she smiles to herself] I think after this particularly miserable last year I’ve earned the right to my inappropriate lust, no?<br /><br />Something to think about as the needle enters my arm.<o:p></o:p></p>oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-47369017329143889282021-01-26T14:51:00.000-05:002021-01-26T14:51:21.837-05:00One slave, returned. Did not meet product specifications.<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Warning: Read product description thoroughly before making your purchase. Never make assumptions that go beyond the specs.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">He told me that.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Over and over.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Never make assumptions.<br />And yet, he did.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Over and over.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">He had this idea of who I was, of what I was, of what I could be, of what I should be, and then would get angry when I didn’t live up to expectations. He had a plan, a training strategy, which more often than not didn’t work as much due to his distraction as it was to my disobedience or inadequate performance.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Again and again, I was a disappointment. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">And after numerous ruptures, numerous resets, numerous attempts on my part to get away, he finally said enough. He was ridding his life of things that didn’t give him pleasure, and I was now one of those things.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I did not protest.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I was frankly relieved.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">He would never let me go if it wasn’t by HIS choice.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I was never quite sure what he thought I was.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">What he was convinced I was.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">There was something he saw in my old profile on Fetlife that made him pursue me for a week, announcing to his masochist slave that he would have me in a week. And that he did. But I think he thought I could be trained into perfect obedience. And it both angered and, I think, wounded him when I resisted. He thought he’d found some treasure, but he hadn’t read the fine print.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">And yet he couldn’t stay away.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Then again, neither could I.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">On and off for 12 years.<br /><br />So here I am.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">But where, exactly?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">He wasn’t all wrong.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Nor was I wrong about my desires.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">And those haven’t gone away.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">The question is what to do about them.<br />The question is what path to follow.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">The question is how to be true to myself.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">And who is that, anyway?<br /><br />Given my age, I’d better get down to finding out.<o:p></o:p></p>oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-49433964592848719732021-01-24T16:58:00.000-05:002021-01-24T16:58:09.139-05:00Wild Fire<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe it’s a hormone storm. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">How can I be having a hormone storm?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Or maybe it’s begun. Four years of fear folding up their tents and slipping away, leaving behind piles of brush and dead branches to be consumed by flames. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I’m burning. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Conflagration, sweeping up and down from my brain into my cunt and then up into the phantom womb. Desire so strong I want to scream and moan - not with pleasure but in desperation. Images that grow wilder, harder, starker, darker than I should want, darker than I could bear, but everything is burning, burning, and the only escape is obliteration. <o:p></o:p></p>oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-36882753368505957852021-01-23T14:12:00.003-05:002021-01-23T14:41:05.936-05:00The Tale of the Fly Swatter<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I erased all the correspondence.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Every word of it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I wish now I hadn’t. With what I know now, with what I’ve lived now, I’d like to read it. But it’s all gone. Deleted in a panic, as if wiping out the words could wipe out the memory of an experience of being someplace I didn’t know existed, in a state I wasn’t prepared to handle, sent there by a man who didn’t understand what he’d done, didn’t know how to bring me back, and cared too little to try.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I came across his ad on Craigslist, where I wandered in those days looking for… for what? I think – I choose to think – that my goal was mainly for erotic stimulation of the linguistic variety. I like to think I was as reckless as sometimes I was.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">How did it come to me, the awareness that sometimes people indulged in the things I fantasized about? Erotica, maybe? My library was growing, I must have known something. And the ads…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">And then there it was. A man – see, there it is, I wish I hadn’t deleted the correspondence. But as I said… anyway, he declared his interest in spanking those women who needed… well, they always come up with some way to phrase it. Women who needed what happened when they were taken over a man’s lap and his palm came down on their bare butt.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">When they needed the pain.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Or something like that.<br /><br />I must have read the ad a dozen times. Read it and read it and felt the hunger and the arousal and – because it’s never just my cunt, it’s always also my brain – felt the curiosity.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">So I wrote him, from the anonymous yahoo account that served all sorts of functions.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I wrote him, curious, wanting to know… more.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">What was he thinking.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">What would he do.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">What did he want.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">What would it be like.<br /><br />It was all about the spanking, he said. For him. Giving me what I needed. As for him, maybe at the end there would be a blow job. But that wasn’t the main thing for him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">But for me?<br />What would it be like?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">So he made a suggestion.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">A bit of self-flagellation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Did I have anything I could use?<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">A fly swatter.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I had a fly swatter.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I still have it, hanging from a hook in the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">That would be long enough.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Long enough to reach behind.<br /><br />OK, fine, an experiment, I can do that.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">And I did.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I went into the bedroom, fly swatter in hand. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Took off all my clothes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Went from there into the bathroom.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Why? Why did I go into the bathroom? It’s a small room, not much space to swing anything. But with the door open, I’d be looking straight at the large mirrored closet in the hallway. Maybe that was it. So many details aren’t clear.<br /><br />I went into the bathroom.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I put the mat down on the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I got down on my hands and knees.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Naked, I got down on my hands and knees, facing the expanse of mirror in the hallway.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I must have looked up at myself, facing the mirror.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Did I see the change in my eyes?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Did I already see a change in my eyes?<br /><br />I picked up the fly swatter in my right hand and reached behind…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Now. I feel myself going there as I write, as I describe, as I remember. I’m so damn suggestible, even to myself, that as I describe the scene I’m back in the scene, there on the bathroom floor, in the moment before that small square of mesh landed on my naked butt. I feel myself going to <i>that place</i>. That place I didn’t even know existed.<br /><br />With one swat, I took myself to subspace. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I can’t remember if I accompanied the action with a fantasy. I have a feeling I didn’t. I think that the position itself was enough, without words, without a script, without an image. I was down on my hands and knees. Submissive. Exposed. Vulnerable. I must have been aroused by the impact such as it was but it was the mental response… the emotional response…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I scared myself. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I was deep in subspace.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Lost in subspace and didn’t know where I was or how to find my way out.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I was probably crying.<br /><br />I wrote him back.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I told him what I had done and how I had responded.<br />And he gave me nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">It’s a good thing I never saw him in person, because he had no idea what to do. No idea where I was, what to say, how to help me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">A common acting technique is emotional recall. You learn it in acting class, you do it there as an exercise, remembering an intense experience so you can bring back the emotions, the reactions, when your character is going through something similar. A common technique – but potentially a dangerous one, if the remembered trauma is too triggering and the teacher too inexperienced to deal with the effect of the memory.<br /><br />I was in a place I didn’t know existed, alone and lost, with no one to pull me back and no one to offer aftercare.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I deleted the correspondence, as if that would erase the memory.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">As if that would make me safe.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">But I wasn’t safe.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Not one bit.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I was Odysseus tied to the mast, hearing the siren’s song, struggling against the ropes, cunt swelling, struggling and cursing and begging to be released, until my desire melted my bonds and I threw myself into the ocean, swimming towards my doom and my salvation. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K11aCwAYHA4/YAx0Wx82HoI/AAAAAAAAA9k/cojEoJKetvE0NJPEbX01bcKlFlFsRvWwwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Fly%2BSwatter.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K11aCwAYHA4/YAx0Wx82HoI/AAAAAAAAA9k/cojEoJKetvE0NJPEbX01bcKlFlFsRvWwwCLcBGAsYHQ/w300-h400/Fly%2BSwatter.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /></p>oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-78690308251978804452021-01-22T22:52:00.000-05:002021-01-22T22:52:46.059-05:00Unleashed. Unlashed<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">I'm on my own now.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Pondering possibilities.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Contemplating, calibrating,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Lusts and wants and needs.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Brain and cunt and bank account<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Begging to be filled.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br />I’m too old and too poor to be left on my own.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Still wet and horny, though.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">(Alas, not old enough to have been vaccinated yet, which does limit one’s options if survival is a goal. Which it is, as Ketzel is still alive at nearly 18. We keep each other warm and groomed and kissed. In that, I’m luckier than some.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-66228100767464046882020-03-29T19:09:00.000-04:002020-03-29T19:11:33.813-04:00Tongue, Tit, FleshCommissioned by my Demon Muse:<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "bradley hand"; font-size: 14pt;">Send me a little sex something before 9 tonight.</span></i><span style="font-family: "bradley hand"; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
He's having a hard time staying away from me.<br />
Interpret that in every and any way you can.<br />
~ ~ ~ ~<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Tongue, Tit, Flesh</span></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">tongue<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">tongue tip<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">tongue tip lick<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">just a touch<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">of the licking tongue tip<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">tit<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">tit tip<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">tit tip twist<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">just a pinch<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">a tightening pinch<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">until she screams<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">flesh<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">flesh flogged<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">flesh flogged flushed <o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">flesh flogged till<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">pussy floods <o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">and cock thrusts<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">and you use her as you must<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">and you fuck her till she’s sore<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">and you fuck her <o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">and you rape her<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">and you fuck her<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">and you fuck her<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">and you rise<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">and you roar<o:p></o:p></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">and you cum<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<o:p> ~ ~ ~</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
the 29<sup>th</sup> day of March<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
in the year of our quarantine <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
2020<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Included here by permission.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
~ ~ ~</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
PS - Anyone out there?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Could you say hello?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-68192909018854317392020-02-19T15:56:00.000-05:002020-02-19T15:56:37.488-05:00UnbeatenHe didn't beat me today.<br />
He didn't spank me.<br />
He didn't whip me with his belt.<br />
<br />
He didn't use on my pale skin the beautiful brown and turquoise leather flogger that many years ago he had his masochist slave make for me. The slave knew whom it was for; the sadist we share has many ways to inflict pain. This flogger is the second model. The first one came apart in use, and the Sadist judged its knotted ends too harsh for me. It's not that he spares me, although I know he protects me. It's more that he can achieve the same effects with less extreme methods, and he doesn't want to risk losing me by going too far. I'm grateful to his masochist slave for giving him the extreme suffering that I cannot.<br />
<br />
But not today.<br />
The previous two weeks were hard.<br />
Hard on my flesh and hard on my emotions.<br />
Butt, tits, belly, pussy, all suffered horribly beneath his belt and hands.<br />
I'm still puzzled that my bruises weren't worse.<br />
<br />
But today?<br />
Today's training session was different.<br />
Training.<br />
Retraining.<br />
Retraining in some of the<br />
techniques that he<br />
desires<br />
requires<br />
demands<br />
when I serve his pleasure.<br />
<br />
So no belt.<br />
No flogger.<br />
Only the lightest of nipple torture,<br />
Which always takes me to<br />
That Place<br />
where I disappear<br />
and all that remains is His.<br />
<br />
And then, because I knew, because I saw the signs, the invisible signal, I spread my thighs apart. I spread my thighs and offered those most tender, sensitive tissues to what turned out to be a very gentle spanking. It did fell gentle, yet when he pushed his way into me, when he thrust again and again, it hurt - and I was grateful for the pain because it made me cry out each time he pushed into me and I know that my pain and my cries please him and excite him and it reminded me how my body is his and it's all about his pleasure and what the hell kind of feminist thinks things like this?<br />
<br />
But that's who we are.<br />
That's who he is.<br />
That's who I am<br />
and he makes me feel so<br />
strong<br />
and so<br />
safe<br />
and who are any of you to dare question?<br />
<br />
I have never been so happyoatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-72763298824437902942020-02-14T22:54:00.000-05:002020-02-15T08:37:04.146-05:00What, no bruises?I feel cheated.<br />
Deprived.<br />
After all those blows<br />
and all that pain<br />
why is the canvas of my<br />
ass but spattered with spots<br />
of pink? Where are my<br />
black and blue badges of courage?<br />
<br />
My heart is scarred by your<br />
anger. Your words left<br />
dark red cane stripes on my soul.<br />
<br />
I peer over my shoulder,<br />
straining to see my ass in the mirror.<br />
Ah! There's one! Two days gone<br />
and the red belt mark has morphed<br />
to blue. I breathe a prayer of thanks.<br />
<br />oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-54245600453154057502020-02-07T18:42:00.000-05:002020-02-07T18:42:06.080-05:00I hate it. I want it. I need it. Please, Sir, whip away my sins!My bruises disappoint me.<br />
The brevity of my punishment disappoints me.<br />
I expected more.<br />
I expected worse.<br />
I was relieved when it ended.<br />
Scared and grateful when he beat me again.<br />
It wasn't enough.<br />
As a punishment it wasn't enough.<br />
Cleanse me, Sir.<br />
Whip my guilt away.<br />
Tie down my arms so I can't<br />
protect<br />
my tits from your belt.<br />
Make me suffer enough to atone.<br />
<br />
I can never suffer enough to atone.<br />
<br />
And it did do the job.<br />
Even though you didn't choke me.<br />
Even though the chain stayed out of your hands,<br />
away from that most vulnerable<br />
hole<br />
between my legs.<br />
You didn't bring a new<br />
strip<br />
of wood<br />
to use as a<br />
cane<br />
in place of the one I angrily discarded<br />
when I left you.<br />
<br />
You were my Tam Lin<br />
but I didn't hold on<br />
as <br />
enchanted<br />
you changed from one<br />
fearsome beast<br />
to another.<br />
I was scared.<br />
I was angry.<br />
So I ran.<br />
And then looked for you in<br />
every<br />
other<br />
man<br />
I met.<br />
<br />
Can your belt beat out of me that guilt?<br />
<br />
Not really.<br />
Not ever.<br />
<br />
But spanking my pussy as you held my legs apart<br />
Whipping with anger, with love and with lust<br />
You slashed to shreds my stubborn will<br />
As if with the knife you're<br />
forbidden<br />
to bring in the house<br />
closing your ears and sadistic soul to the<br />
siren song of<br />
my belly.<br />
<br />
I sobbed.<br />
I suffered.<br />
I surrendered my soul.<br />
And offered myself to<br />
everything<br />
<br />
everything<br />
<br />
I ran from before.<br />
<br />
Oh Matron Saint of Foolish Vows,<br />
please help me keep my word!<br />
<br />oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-39022094775703064372020-02-06T20:21:00.000-05:002020-02-08T18:19:27.318-05:00How do you use me? Let me count the ways.A pair of poems, written in response to yesterday's encounter and recommitment.<br />
<br />
The literary inspiration should be obvious.<br />
The first poem was the direct response.<br />
The next was an attempt to wrestle it into proper sonnet form.<br />
Wrestling indeed.<br />
A struggle for sure.<br />
But then, he loves seeing me struggle.<br />
<br />
He's not into bondage, by the way.<br />
He expects self-restraint.<br />
Force of will.<br />
And of not that, restraint by his hands.<br />
<br />
Anyway, here is the pair of efforts, posted with his permission. I'm nearly trembling with delight at how returning to his control has inspired me. (He does inspire trembling. Especially with orgasm denied.)<br />
<br />
Note: I'd be most grateful for any comments, if only to let me know that you are here and noticed that I am.<br />
<br />
~ ~ ~ ~<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">How Do You Use Me?</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">How do you use me? Let me feel the ways.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">You beat me to the heat and depth and pain<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">My ass can bear when offered to your belt<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And then beyond to what you know I need.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">You torture me with twists and bites and slaps<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">On tender tits and taunting nipple ends<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">While feeding on my frightened helpless screams<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And holding fast my wrists with brutal grip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">You show no mercy towards those tender parts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">That cower there between my beaten thighs<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And blush and swell with want and pain and shame.<br />You fuck me sore with angry hungry lust<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And drink capitulation from my eyes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And know that I will love you all the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">~ ~ ~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">How do you use me? Let me feel the ways.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">You beat me to the heat and depth and pain<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Your belt upon my ass can fast attain<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And then beyond until my wild eyes glaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">You torture me with slaps and bites and twists<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">On tender tits and taunting nipples red<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">While feeding on my frightened cries of dread<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And making clear the purpose of our trysts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">You show no mercy to poor Pussy’s cave <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">That cowers wet between my beaten thighs<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And blushing, swells with want and pain and shame.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br />With hungry thrusts you fuck your someday slave<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And drink capitulation from my eyes -<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And know that I will love you all the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-18565153480873562172020-02-05T19:38:00.000-05:002020-02-05T19:39:56.425-05:00The juicy stuff. You know you want it.One of the Prime Directives which, I confess, I'm not always so good at observing:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i> Give him what he wants.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i> Not what he doesn't want.</i></div>
<br />
I haven't been very good about that here, either.<br />
First I give you nothing at all.<br />
Then I blather about some married man nearly getting in trouble<br />
because his wonderful wife is not where he is<br />
and he's lonely for companionship.<br />
How boring.<br />
<br />
So I'll give you what you do want.<br />
Just a small slice.<br />
<br />
How we resumed our previous category of relationship after having been apart for over a year, followed by around 15 months as lovers.<br />
<br />
Not sure what name to give the character of our relationship, as BDSM seems...<br />
Inadequate.<br />
<br />
And submission?<br />
Something's missing from that term, too, although I can't nail down what.<br />
<br />
In any case, a chance to return to that other way of being together was offered and gratefully, if nervously, accepted. Because, as he has always said and I agreed, this is not a game. Not for us. We're embarking back on it very seriously.<br />
<br />
And there is real danger.<br />
<br />
The Beast lurks, always lurks, though I've been warned not to refer to him by name and not to call to him. For various reasons, there are times when he can't be guaranteed to maintain control of his sadistic nature which is beyond someone who just enjoys inflicting pain as part of their sexual interactions. He loves me - he truly does love me and sometimes even manages to say the words. He doesn't want to risk injuring me, or doing something that would cause an irreparable destruction of the relationship.<br />
<br />
"He."<br />
I keep referring to him as "he."<br />
I don't know what else to say.<br />
I don't think of him as the Fiend anymore.<br />
I don't really think of him as the Beast either - even if that name were not taboo.<br />
<br />
We're going way, way back with my training, so I am not allowed to call him "my Master" anymore. Not there yet. And after years of calling him "Daddy" - which made us both feel ever so good - that's packed away for now. I may address him only as "Sir" but it seems weird to refer to him that way. So for now, it's just "he." "Him." No capital letter unless at the beginning of a sentence.<br />
<br />
And today?<br />
Today.<br />
<br />
A ritual.<br />
They always work so well.<br />
Confession.<br />
Punishment.<br />
Forgiveness.<br />
<br />
The confession pleased him.<br />
I included the major sin which he was almost convinced I would omit.<br />
And thus, my punishment was much lighter than he had planned.<br />
Certainly lighter than I expected.<br />
Which doesn't mean it was light.<br />
<br />
He whipped my ass with his belt.<br />
Hard.<br />
Very hard, he says.<br />
I was draped over a leather footstool and he beat me with great intent.<br />
But he didn't lose control.<br />
<br />
We continued in the bedroom.<br />
Again, the belt.<br />
On my ass, as I was bent over the foot of the bed, leaning on my forearms.<br />
<br />
The belt.<br />
One blow to each tit.<br />
<br />
The belt.<br />
Hard, between my spread legs on tissues that are much too tender to be treated that way.<br />
<br />
And then?<br />
The punishment was over.<br />
He got in the bed, and had me get in, and held me to him while I sobbed, and he comforted me, and talked more about what had been said and what had been done.<br />
<br />
And about love, too.<br />
<br />
But the pain hadn't ended.<br />
Hurting me for his pleasure.<br />
As opposed to hurting me because It Needed To Be Done.<br />
<br />
Whipping poor Pussy to make her swollen and sore, so she'd be extra tight around his cock and so it would hurt when he fucked me. Often he will spank her with his hand, hard, but this time he went back to whipping her with his belt. Hard. And then with the curled palm of his hand. Very hard. And I struggled so, because I'd made up my mind that I would not protect myself, that I would offer him whatever he felt I deserved and whatever would give him pleasure. But it hurt so much, God it hurt, the belt on top of the previous whipping, and then his hand on top of all that, and I couldn't bear it... I tried so hard to hold my legs open but our bodies must protect themselves and he was up on his knees looking down at me with a most fierce and determined expression and would have what he wanted and he pulled my legs apart, forced my legs apart, held my legs apart and I struggled but there was nothing I could do and he spanked me there over and over until I was almost beyond feeling it... everything was falling away and there was nothing but the pain and the helplessness... and I see him now. That image living in my brain.<br />
<br />
And it's so vibrant.<br />
So intense.<br />
And I'm so grateful that he forced that pain on me.<br />
So grateful that despite my struggles I offered it to him.<br />
Willingly gave him my physical vulnerability along with the emotional.<br />
<br />
And yes.<br />
When he fucked me it hurt.<br />
And yes.<br />
I was red and tight and swollen inside.<br />
And yes.<br />
I whimpered and moaned and cried out that it hurt.<br />
And he came with a roar.<br />
<br />
And he loves me.<br />
<br />
And no.<br />
Of course I'm not allowed to cum.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-24310791165530237212020-01-02T17:13:00.001-05:002020-01-02T17:13:24.972-05:00Do you come here often?So I have a question.<br />
For my new Admirer.<br />
Do you make a habit of this?<br />
Making moves on other women?<br />
Has your long marriage been sprinkled by affairs?<br />
<br />
This didn't seem to be new to him. In some ways he felt like a 17-year old boy, but in some ways it seemed very natural to him. Putting his hand on me. Spreading his legs more so he could press his thigh against mine. He seemed very relaxed about it all, no underlying guilt of "Oh my God what am I doing I've never felt like this before how can I betray my wife like this but the feeling is too strong I can't resist..." and so forth.<br />
<br />
Which disappoints me. I admire his family. I admire any family which seems close, the various generations sharing interests, embracing differences, all smiles and love and rejoicing.<br />
<br />
Not that I have any right to be superior. Given my own history of infidelity in both marriages, and my current illicit relationship that's been going on for over 11 years now (wow, really?), who am I to judge? Still... maybe it's because it feels as if it came out of nowhere. And because it's within this small town community. A betrayal of the community as much as anything else.<br />
<br />
And because, yes, it does feel good to be paid that kind of attention.<br />
<br />
Which doesn't change how I feel about the man I deeply love, and who occasionally takes the brave step of saying in so many words that he loves me.<br />
<br />
Comments, anyone?<br />
If anyone is out there?oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-72943787304121678182019-12-30T18:15:00.001-05:002019-12-30T18:15:36.174-05:00Why me?He's nice.<br />
We share interests.<br />
<br />
He's married.<br />
<br />
He pressed his leg against mine and held my hand.<br />
Bob, I said.<br />
You can't flirt with me in front of your sons.<br />
<br />
Point taken, he said.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-88768798002049037882019-01-26T22:56:00.002-05:002019-01-26T22:56:47.464-05:00Peeking out of the mist...Just wondering,<br />
Is anyone still out there?oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-32153009271580249112015-05-03T16:56:00.000-04:002019-01-26T22:55:22.089-05:00TranslationI love you, I say.<br />
I know, he replies.<br />
<br />
Translation: I love you, too.<br />
<br />
I miss you, I say.<br />
I understand, he replies.<br />
<br />
Translation: I know.<br />
Translation: So do I.<br />
Translation: I miss you, too.<br />
Translation: I love you.oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-40039410549167314962015-03-11T22:33:00.000-04:002015-03-11T22:33:27.084-04:00Beneath the carapaceHe thinks a lot of himself.<br />
Or so he says.<br />
He wants me to know that he thinks a lot of himself.<br />
<br />
Such a mammoth ego.<br />
A mammoth ego needing so much support.<br />
Wanting constant massaging,<br />
like his lovely cock,<br />
hungry for attention<br />
from hand and mouth and more<br />
to keep it smartly hard.<br />
<br />
Such vulnerability.<br />
Such beautiful vulnerability.<br />
Does he know that's something I love about him?<br />
<br />
He tries to hide it.<br />
<br />
And now.<br />
As we sort things out.<br />
It took me ever so long to see.<br />
He had to say it nearly straight out.<br />
<br />
He needs to save face.<br />
<br />
He does know he triggered it.<br />
He knows the beast escaped.<br />
He knows he didn't protect me.<br />
<br />
But what he focuses on is what I did to <u>him</u>, how I left without a word, how I tossed away 7 years (actually 6 and a half) because of half an hour (seemed more like an hour), how I waffled about whether it was over or not...<br />
<br />
Because.<br />
Because he knows what he did.<br />
He knows the effect it had on me.<br />
<br />
But he needs to feel - to pretend - that he was the one who was wronged. Like when he has trouble cumming because of too much to drink, and he says it will be all my fault if he can't cum even though he knows - and I know - that it's not my fault at all. Sometimes, after, he has even said that, reassured me, that he knows it wasn't my fault but <i>he needs</i> to act like it was. <br />
<br />
So I'm being good and doing as he says and accepting that he has doubts. And he has always had doubts, it has always been hard to fully believe that I do love him, do want to fully give myself over to him, even though I do sometimes fight it and run scared because really, given issues I've always had with authority even as I've so badly needed someone to take control, is it any surprise that some sense of rebellion remains?<br />
<br />
In fact, he's got a plan that seems to be working. He's wise for us to ease back in. And what he so badly needs is to feel that he's back in control.<br />
<br />
Which is also why he won't let me masturbate.<br />
<br />
I love it that he won't let me masturbate.<br />
Just as I love how sweetly he stroked me<br />
as I even more sweetly sucked on his cock.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-86708422382962625702015-03-08T23:45:00.000-04:002015-03-08T23:45:05.734-04:00Sexual healingThere were tears in his eyes.<br />
No other words were needed.<br />
And were probably best left unsaid.oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-64045823398761160812015-03-06T22:43:00.000-05:002015-03-06T22:43:52.937-05:00Seeking solutions<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt--FDth17k/VPpyvHSIP5I/AAAAAAAAAtY/qz9zVk9_cjw/s1600/Aurelia_Redhead-Rossetti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt--FDth17k/VPpyvHSIP5I/AAAAAAAAAtY/qz9zVk9_cjw/s1600/Aurelia_Redhead-Rossetti.jpg" height="400" width="332" /></a></div>
<br />
Tantrums, tears, negotiations.<br />
The tantrums weren't mine.<br />
You can guess about the tears.<br />
Negotiations? Or something like.<br />
He always said he doesn't negotiate.<br />
Meanwhile, as offerings, two poems.<br />
Blue snow beneath a bright full moon.<br />
Beyond that -<br />
who the hell knows.<br />
I need some sleep.<br />
<br />oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-27698174224193997432015-03-05T22:40:00.000-05:002015-03-05T22:40:03.169-05:00Outcome uncertainThe writing team is hanging out in the break room, awaiting instructions from the show runner, who is contemplating alternate directions for the series<br />
<br />
Tune in tomorrow.<br />
Meanwhile, you might enjoy some reruns.oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-3409815594809703532015-03-03T21:42:00.001-05:002015-03-03T21:43:26.928-05:00The soap opera continuesOy.<br />
Stay tuned.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/chn4FhezGyE/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/chn4FhezGyE?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=chn4FhezGyE" target="_blank"></a>oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-78924945860393274362015-03-02T23:46:00.000-05:002015-03-03T00:03:51.981-05:00A moment of weaknessWell, it was more than a moment.<br />
It was all day.<br />
I was coming apart.<br />
<br />
Damn, I was coming apart. I hurt so much inside, I couldn't imagine not belonging to this man who is truly extraordinary despite all his faults and weaknesses. It got worse and worse all day until finally I decided that I didn't care.<br />
<br />
I knew that if I were smart and responsible and self-respecting I would stay the hell away from him but I didn't care. You know the song. Love has no pride. But it wasn't just a matter of love.<br />
<br />
So I sent him the following:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<u>Subject</u>: I can't do it, Sir. I can't walk away.<br />
<br />
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
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<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
I tried, Sir.</div>
I really tried.</div>
I tried to do the smart thing.</div>
The safe thing.</div>
And I just can't. </div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div>
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Because, Sir. <br />
Precisely because - <i><b>this is not a game.</b></i> </div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
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</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div>
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<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
It
would be so much easier if it were. I could say sorry, I don't want to
play with you anymore. I'll find someone else to play with. </div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
But
it isn't that, Sir. It's never been that. Not merely because you set
that down as a ground rule. But because it is the truth. For me as well
as for you, it is the truth. </div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
Even if, Sir, you never see me
again, never talk to me again, never acknowledge this message, I will
still belong to you. Always. It's an immutable fact. </div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
I went to discuss it with the Wise Woman. A sign on the cave said: <br />
<br />
<div style="margin-left: 40px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia,serif;">Closed Until Further Notice</span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
But I knew what she would say, Sir. </div>
And I tried.</div>
Oh, how I tried.</div>
<div>
But I couldn't stay away,</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
I'm
sorry, Sir, for going all silent on you. I was upset and scared and in
pain (an internal injury to my hip - muscle, ligament, nerve, some such
thing) and you had said you didn't want to talk about what happened and
that I couldn't send you my reactions. So all I wanted was to escape. To
save myself. </div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
But I can't stop belonging to you. </div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
I tried to run away from home, Daddy.</div>
But the buses stopped running.</div>
And I forgot to bring food. </div>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div>
Please, Daddy.</div>
Please let me come home.</blockquote>
Yes.<br />
I know.<br />
Pathetic.<br />
On the other hand, part of my job had been to feed his ego.<br />
Consider this one last attempt. <br />
<br />
He responded:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div dir="ltr">
It's too late.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
And you're better off without me. </div>
</blockquote>
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And by that, he freed me.<br />
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For which I am grateful. </div>
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oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-236635488362121082015-03-01T14:25:00.002-05:002015-03-01T14:25:18.570-05:00A time to cryToday we reunited.<br />
In my dream, we reunited.<br />
<br />
This morning... the details are fuzzy... we were together, in bed, talking some, I don't remember... it was such a relief, I felt so whole...<br />
<br />
I cried in the shower.<br />
Today, I am crying.<br />
Where he was there is only emptiness and pain.<br />
<br />
I'm working very hard to remember other times... to remember that this really was the right decision... to remember that he himself knew he couldn't always protect me from the beast. To remember that to say "the beast" is to dangerously separate what is a part of HIM. A part he does not want to give up even if he could. Because he thrives on the thrill.<br />
<br />
But I loved him.<br />
I love him still, beneath the anger and the fear and...<br />
the disappointment.<br />
<br />
I think back to after... when he was done... when he had cum... when he sat back against the mounded pillow but this time without me cuddled against him. Without the softness. There was a thick wall between us. I think back to how he said he wasn't going to talk about it. To how he said he wouldn't apologize.<br />
<br />
I knew he knew he ought to apologize.<br />
I knew he wouldn't LET himself apologize.<br />
It's his credo.<br />
His own wall.<br />
His declaration of superiority.<br />
<br />
I wonder if he apologizes to the people in his other life.<br />
<br />
The radio.<br />
I had to turn off the radio.<br />
<br />
They were speaking of searching for our missing half. Aristophanes in Plato's <i>Symposium </i>explaining that humans were once round, two halves together, male and male, female and female, and male and female. We pissed off Zeus, trying to scale Mount Olympus, and he blasted us in half. But we feel the emptiness, we ache for our missing part, we search to be reunited so we can once again and always feel whole.<br />
<br />
He made me feel whole.<br />
He taught me that I'm beautiful.<br />
He demanded my worship but treasured me in exchange.<br />
<br />
I cried in the shower.<br />
<br />
~ ~ ~<br />
<br />
I remind myself to be strong.<br />
I remind myself that he's not going to change.<br />
Even if he could, he never will change.<br />
He doesn't want to change.<br />
And that's his choice.<br />
<br />
He has mellowed, though. I've seen that over time. He has mellowed. Mellowed, softened, matured. Or perhaps ... no. I won't speculate. I won't project onto him my own interpretations.<br />
<br />
We both lost.<br />
<br />
I miss him dreadfully.<br />
<br />
The bruises on my body will be gone long before the pain of the loss.<br />
<br />
~ ~ ~<br />
<br />
I'm on Facebook, you know.<br />
Or maybe you don't know.<br />
As <a href="https://www.facebook.com/oatmealgirl.author" target="_blank">Oatmealgirl Author</a>.<br />
<br />
I have "friends" there, but no one comments unless I post a comment in response to someone else's post. Those of you who feel comfortable with having such a friend among your other friends are welcome to come by. Me, I keep a separate account under my legal name.<br />
<br />
A separate account.<br />
A separate name.<br />
A separate life.<br />
<br />
I may be strong.<br />
But I don't feel whole.<br />
No one knew me the way he did.<br />
No one.<br />
Ever.oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-21247348387343884212015-02-28T20:20:00.000-05:002015-02-28T20:22:20.198-05:00Fleeing the Shapeshifter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BWBqe_0-3Jg/VPJlg-aBZTI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/FRCQV16rYMc/s1600/TamLinShapeshifter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BWBqe_0-3Jg/VPJlg-aBZTI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/FRCQV16rYMc/s1600/TamLinShapeshifter.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I always said that I'd never let go.<br />
I know he's a sadist.<br />
I wouldn't let go.<br />
But he growled and he mauled me,<br />
Sinking his jaws deep in my shoulder<br />
And my father is dying<br />
And I screamed and I sobbed<br />
And I got him to cum<br />
And when it was over<br />
My heart turned to stone<br />
And the beast<br />
Did not<br />
Change back into a loving man. <br />
<br />
~ ~ ~ ~<br />
<br />
<i>Illustration for Tam Lin from the album <b>Child Ballads</b></i><span class="st"><i><b> </b>by Anaïs Mitchell & Jefferson Hamer. Their version of this shapeshifter ballad has been my favorite since I first heard it.</i></span><br />
<br />
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<br />oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-56658284262554760462015-02-28T00:52:00.000-05:002015-02-28T00:52:38.853-05:00It's overThe beast was in heat and came to sate his hunger, following a long and welcome absence. This was always a possibility. There were no assurances otherwise. In fact, there were repeated warnings that I should never assume I was safe.<br />
<br />
The beast is not welcome here.<br />
<br />
But meals are prix fixe.<br />
The chef sets the menu.<br />
There are no substitutions.<br />
It's all or nothing.<br />
<br />
And so<br />
reluctantly<br />
I'm walking away.<br />
<br />
I feel strong.<br />
Proud of myself.<br />
Strong and proud and beautiful and sad.<br />
<br />
<i>And I know I'll never find another you.</i>oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1165603762522014470.post-87338164060984190432014-12-27T22:25:00.000-05:002014-12-27T22:25:00.458-05:00The Taste of Christmas PresentLove is an offering of leftover homemade <span class="st">pâté, made with his own hands and Cuisinart, and snatched from the possible consumption by member of his family - who admittedly had little interest in the item which is, perhaps and annually, made as much for the pleasure of the process as anything else and we do know, of course, that any sadist worth his whip maintains a keen interest in the process as well as in his own eventual hedonistic pleasure - said thick slice of ground and spiced and molded meats to be presented to his mistress for his pleasure in her pleasure.</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">She moaned.</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">And dispelled with any concern about indecipherable run-on sentences.</span>oatmeal girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12842608615972752000noreply@blogger.com1