Exhausted and angry

I’m tired of expecting people to do the right thing.

Even more, I’m tired of feeling like I can’t expect them to do the right thing.

It’s utterly exhausting and depressing to expect the worst of people.

I don’t want to. Truly I don’t. And I try really hard to keep it at bay, to hang onto that smiling wide-eyed optimism that I used to have in droves.

I think it makes me an uglier person when I let it in, that bone-wearying cynicism. It makes me feel like a lesser person, a weaker person. Walking around in the world being suspicious of people, of their words, of their intent, of their motives. It makes me feel like a small scaly creature that scuttles from shadow to shadow hissing at anything that comes close.

I don’t feel like that’s me. Not really.

But you know what, sometimes that’s exactly me.

I want to believe the best of people. Always.

But those times when I do that, and I’m let down over and again make me feel like I am foolish for trying. That sharp voice niggles in the back of my mind, chuckling quietly, going ‘I told you so’. And above all I feel foolish for having believed.

And I’m not going to talk politics because that’s not what I do here, but it feels like I am watching the world burn while I am mired in my petty issues.

It’s exhausting and I’m so tired.

Maybe we should just burn it all to the ground and start again.

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e[lust] #92

Welcome to Elust 92

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #93 Start with the rules, come back April 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Feeling Forced

NEEDY – a black obsession

Monogamish

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

“One Man Is Not Enough For You.”
blink

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Safewords in Kink Life and in Kink Fiction

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

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Happy Femdom Story: Mundane Brilliance

I am so excited! A happy femdom story. YAAAASSSS!!

I haven’t had one on the blog for ages, and this story is a complete delight and I’m so happy to share it. We all have different paths and sometimes they are difficult and drawn out, but when you end up where you are supposed to be, you know it all played out as it needed to.

Enjoy!

Author: Mundane Brilliance

I can’t tell you when I first knew I wanted to dominate my partners. I’m sure I always did. Looking back, I was often the one “on top.” In charge. On top physically and mentally and all of that. I didn’t equate it to whips and chains and handcuffs — if anything, I toyed with the idea of being sexually submissive, because that just seemed to be the sort of thing open to women. Female dominants were whip-wielding, latex-wearing harridans, and I certainly didn’t feel like I fit that mold.

Fast forward to a long marriage, sometimes good, sometimes bad, but in the end, bad enough that I needed to get out of it.

Shortly after that…

Him.

My boy.

He’s not what I ever might have thought I wanted, if you’d asked me to make a list, and yet he’s everything I need and want, and I am overjoyed to have met him. We were friends first, for a good long time. Never talked about sex, or D/S, or what we liked in a partner. We joked and teased and supported each other in our work, and built a friendship that, if not supremely intimate (I was married, after all) was definitely a foundation.

And now, here we are, two people amazed that we didn’t know, when we met, how we would fit together. How we could possibly have managed to figure out a way to make this work, not just on a friends-to-lovers scale, but also on the D/S spectrum.

For him, I am Ma’am. I’ve been Ma’am from the start, from when we changed from friends to lovers. He is my wolf, my loyal partner, my boy, my love. He is protective and obedient and loyal, and we have played with ways of exploring that and figuring out how it all works in our daily lives, not just the bedroom.

I am Ma’am. He is Mine.

Beyond the sex play, the toys and positions and exploring new things. We work together on an intimate and consistently fruitful level. We work together. We are partners. He is not “less than” because he submits; if anything, his constant willingness to serve me has made him more equal to me than any partner I’ve ever had.

We fit together and we work together, because it’s important to us to keep moving forward.

Oh, yeah, and the sex is volcanic.

I never thought I’d have this with anyone, much less a permanent partner who was as much invested in it as I was.

I’m really, really lucky.

:)

___

This post is part of an ongoing project to share happy, positive femdom relationship stories.  If you have a story and are willing to share it, please email it to me (ferns -at- domme-chronicles -dot- com).

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Realisation


There is more, of course, there is a story. There is always a story.

I make my choices, even if the choices aren’t so healthy for me, or for others. I make them, I own them.

I am not surprised by how it played out, and I am grateful for that lack of surprise: my instincts are sound and they serve me well.

There is some hurt, some anger. But mostly I am sad.

Feeling a little lonely if I’m honest. It’s rare for me to feel lonely. Even though I am most often alone.

Melancholy.

I might write about it soon.

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The new normal

I believe that prolonged exposure to a lot of things can normalise them. Over time, we internalise them as ‘the new normal’, and we just get on with it. The ramifications of this idea are huge in general, but I’m only thinking about it on a tiny scale based on how I’ve been feeling recently.

(And the reason I’m thinking about this is entirely not kink related: Kink?! On a kink blog? DON’T BE RIDICULOUS!)

I used to work in a very stressful job. Other than ridiculous hours, lots of long-haul travel, heavy responsibilities, complicated problems, and huge budgets, it was especially stressful for an introvert like me because it involved a lot of ‘schmoozing’. You know schmoozing: when you have to socialise with clients so that they like you and want to do business with your company. Ugh. I was good at it (I’m very likeable you know!), but it was hateful.

My ‘normal’ was just a big pile of stress, all of it, all the time. No big deal.

Now I have pretty much no stress in my life. It’s completely lovely. That’s ‘the new normal’.

But the downside of that is that now when I have some relatively minor stress in my life, it feels like a behemoth and my entire body reacts like it’s the end of the world. I’m a bucket of jangly nerves and distraction. I can’t think about anything else, I can’t sleep, I can’t relax, I just turn it over in my head: over and over and over. It loops round and round, showing slightly different variations each time. And then because I can’t sleep, my tired cranky brain cycles it up. It is fucking exhausting. And wow, does it ever make me boring. Because I can’t think about anything else.

My ‘new normal’ has robbed me of whatever coping skills I had that enabled me to deal with stress. It’s like how muscles atrophy if you don’t use them and after a while, you struggle to lift even the lightest things.

So the catalyst for this post: I’ve been having some turmoil around my living situation. Hopefully it will all be sorted by tomorrow.

But in the meantime, I have been feeling like a spiky self obsessed mess. Those close to me have had a running litany of random blurting and an utter lack of interest in anything to do with anything else. It’s like a rude and distracted and (even more) selfish version of me has been stalking around demanding attention.

I’m lucky, it happens rarely, but boy is it ever a wake up call when it does. I probably need to find ways to exercise those skills or one day I’ll find myself curled up in the foetal position in the corner because I forgot to buy coffee*.

___

*This, by the way, is a bad example because that seems an entirely reasonable reaction to not having coffee in the house.

 

 

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How great would it be if…

… the accounts with a label of ‘dominant woman’ that have obviously stolen super-hot pictures and wank-text would all hook up with the mindless horny idiots who drool over them.

Online-only, of course, because duh.

Those dudes could wank away together forever with the hot sexy chat and stupidity and be perfectly happy and leave the rest of us alone.

Case in point:

*’Woman’ posts hot pictures that are easily verified as ‘not her’ via google image search*

‘Her’ profile/ads/multiple postings: “Looking for a slave I love ALL THE FETISHES especially yours yes you with your hard dripping cock get on your knees NOW bitch you will give me total control because I’m a powerful mistress and you will be my slave and lick my hot wet pussy all day long because I love that too let me explicitly explain how much I want your eager tongue in my asshole and how we will do all the fetishes that you love because I love them too and… etc etc…”

Drooling brainless en masse: “Oh Mistress u r so dominate pick me pleease my cock is so hard for u…” 

*they skip off and mutually do their wankery happily every after*

/fin

Oh what a wonderful world that would be… *dreamy sigh*.

But nooooo… what happens is that the dudes come back and whine when ‘she’ inevitably asks for money, which is, of course 100% entirely predictable. They’ll be all “THERE ARE NO DOMINANT WOMEN ALL OF THEM ARE FAKES AND SCAMMERS AND AND… WAAAAHHHH…’

Rinse and repeat.

It’s just…

 

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Lifting out

Creative Commons BY-SA 4.0 mark'Passion fruit' by Paul Munhoven

Hauling myself out of a slump is tricky. If I try too hard, I rail against myself like I somehow want to see me fail. It’s ridiculous, and yet it’s true.

I mentioned that I signed up to this 10 week challenge at my gym which is meant to be all full-on, and it can be, but given I’m a bit broken I’m taking it relatively easy.

What it’s about for me is having an external goal to think about vs just rattling around inside my own head like some demented ferret. And the gym-driven program gives me some system of support (NOT because I’m going to talk to anyone else doing it… no no no! Just because it’s not ‘a thing that I made up for myself’). It’s about having a time-bound external project to point myself at so that I’m not just digging myself into a bigger and bigger hole of slumpiness.

This is week two.

I’m doing  pretty well.

I talked to a personal trainer about how to work around my shoulder, I have a new routine that includes those considerations, that means I’m comfortable working out more and am not just doing lower body week in and week out. I’m trying to pay closer attention to what I eat (seriously, I had 100g of chicken with broccoli and spinach just now for lunch: I MEASURED OUT 100 GRAMS OF FUCKING CHICKEN! Go me *pats myself on the back*).

I feel a bit better with this external focus. Not anywhere close to skipping off at 100% ‘me’, but improvement is improvement, and I’ll take it. I’m calling it a tentative win.

___

Unrelated random thing: I have some high-end body lotion that I got for Christmas. It is ‘noni infused’, but it smells like passionfruit. I slather it on my feet before I go to the gym. I figure that sock-covered-lotion-feet getting all hot and sweaty will get fabulously soft.

This means that when I get home from the gym and take off my socks and shoes, I get the glorious aroma of passionfruit wafting all around me. I swear, I feel like some Goddess whose body naturally exudes this amazing scent out of my pores.

Oops, I mean “I am a Goddess whose body naturally exudes this amazing scent out of my pores…”

 

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Free Book: Come get it!


The first in my ‘How To’ Femdom Series is How to Write An Awesome Online Profile: For Submissive Men, now available on Amazon.

It’s short, sharp, and practical and includes a before/after example. If you’re a submissive man stuck on writing your profile, or you just want to revamp what you have, this is a useful place to start.

As fabulously loyal readers, I’m giving you a second chance to get one for free if you missed out the first time. Did I say FREE?! Yes, yes I did!

Just click here to sign up to my mailing list before 23rd Feb (no spam, I promise, and in fact you will probably hear from me so infrequently you will completely forget that you signed up… :P) and you’ll get a free copy in your inbox.

Or, you know, you could just go buy it *smile*.

Freebie offer now closed: if you join my mailing list, there may be other freebies but I’m not promising anything!

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e[lust] #91

Welcome to Elust 91

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #92 Start with the rules, come back March 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Forcing Growth

In Stitches

The Instrument and the Ornament

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Imagine? You Might Wish You Hadn’t!
she’s picture perfect

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Morning Stretch

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Continue Reading

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Some whine? Don’t mind if I do…

I’m in kind of a slump. I’ve been here before, it will pass, but talking about it is better than not talking about it I guess.

Being slumpy makes me not want to do things that I know will help me lift out of the slump because my brain goes ‘But I don’t waaaaaannnt to’ like a three year old. So it’s a self perpetuating slump. A never ending circle of slumpiness. Slumposity (they are so real words!).

Working on my ‘How To’ Femdom Series is helping some. Having a project to work on that I care about is good for my brain. It forces me to fire things up. The lovely folks on my mailing list already have a copy of the first book, so there is actual proof that I’m doing *something* other than hiding in a hole. A public release will be coming soon, just ironing out some glitches.

Along those same whiny lines, I have had a shoulder injury for more than 6 months now (I’m too scared to really look up how long I’ve had it, I’m thinking it’s closer to 12 or 18 months). I’ve been to the doctor, two physios, a myotherapist, had scans (no tears or identifiable damage), cortisone, needling, and am currently seeing a chiropractor. Please do me a favour and don’t tell me in the comments how to fix it: it’s well meant, I know, but it’s also irritating as fuck.

The injury has sapped me of any motivation to get to the gym because upper body work is pretty much off the table. I’m still doing pilates twice a week, so I’m not schlepping on the couch but my body is not happy with me. I feel ‘blergh’, you know that feeling? BLERGH-slobby-heavy-sluggish. Yeah, that. The irony of that feeling is that I never did any exercise EVER for my entire life (it’s a new thing in the last few years) and I always felt fine. Now I have created a body-monster that accuses me with narrowed eyes when I don’t give it enough attention.

Next week I’m starting a ’10 week challenge’ at my gym. It’s a murderous regime rife with the potential for injury, but I need an external kick to push me out of this physical and mental space. I’ve told them I’m injured and they have assured me they will work around it. They will give me a body scan before and after to assess results, I will get an eating and training plan, a personal training session, four group training sessions a week, and supplements to suit. I’m exhausted just writing it out. But I think I need it. Like a smack upside the head.

I feel a bit like everything inside me is empty and I need to fill it up, and I fear that there is a black hole in there that I can slip into if I don’t get out of my own head a bit. Doing something challenging that takes up physical and mental space and that I can legitimately whine about seems like a reasonable option.

Did I mention that the first group session is at 6am. What the fuck time even is that?! FFS!!

So here’s the first anticipatory whine: “But I don’t waaaaaannnnttt toooo *throws tantrum*.”

Addendum: Please don’t worry too much. It will pass and in the scheme of things it’s no big deal. Sometimes I just need to be a whiny bitch.

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