Sunday, September 28, 2014

Thirst (9-28-14)


A long time ago (It seems like forever now) in the early 90's when the doctors were just scratching at the surface of my medical issues, I was prescribed a medication. This was before the PTSD, before the rise of Sunshine, after I graduated from college with my psychiatric nursing degree, and when I was the young (32 years old) mother of 5 rambunctious boys. The "bad" times with deadbeat were just beginning. I was clueless to the hell that awaited me. I was full of Hope and Positivity and Unafraid. My dear beloved doctor prescribed a medication (I remember the name of it, but it doesn't matter now) that was one of many medications that causes polydipsia. The word polydipsia looks nice, up on the screen, doesn't it? Until you know what it is: Polydipsia is the medical term for excessive thirst. I could drink 2 liters of water during my lunch break, and 20 minutes later, all I desired was more water, fruit juice, soda, you name it... I was powerless over the overwhelming desire to intake as much fluid as possible. The fact that it was a hot summer didn't help much either. The house I lived in had no air conditioning, just a tiny swamp cooler. It's been nearly 18 years since I stopped taking that medication, but the memory of that thirst lingers. 


You remind me of that thirst, that never quenched desire to feel satiated, but never quite getting there. I'm always wanting more of you, never feeling like I've had enough. It started with that first hug. No, that's a lie. It started that first time I saw you sitting across the room from me. I was preoccupied, true, but something about your face, or maybe it was your body. No! It was your soul! Your soul called out to mine, in that dark, noise-filled, crowded room. I looked at you many times that first night, and every time I looked up and away from my project, I saw you. Watching, seeking... sitting there in stony silence. Calling me. Like a silent scream, one could not hear it, but could feel it in their bones.

The more I learned about you, the unknown man, the more I thought to myself, "No, no, NO! This will NOT work! It cannot work! It is impossible!" But Fate does not know the word "Impossible," You can be dragged, kicking and screaming and denying, while Fate says simply "Yes. Yes, this will work. This will be." And it is! It was that way with you. I was alternately compelled and repulsed. Compelled, because you silently called out to me. Repulsed, because of the knowledge I had of you, of your habits, I saw your home weeks before I ever entered, I knew what to expect, and, yet, in spite of all I knew, all I saw, I fought the feelings of no, and accepted Fate's yes.

That first hug, a few weeks after the first time your soul cried out to me, sealed it. You smelled of sweetness, of candy, of strongly brewed coffee. All the things I liked, all the things I loved. How could I possibly refuse you? Six weeks later, you were bent over, nearly naked, laying over a spanking bench as I repeatedly used my heaviest paddle on your ivory skin. You were silent, but your body language, the wiggling and pressing up against me, made me realize that, yes, you were what I desired. You were what I thirsted for. Even as I broke my finger, and explained what happened, your laugh was rich and full, and as I got closer, the smell of sweetness, candy, and strongly brewed coffee was there. Why I fought it, I don't know. Two weeks later, in your home, which was exactly what I saw in my mind's eye, I still thirsted for you. Yes, there was fear and apprehension, like the fear we all get when doing something new, but I knew you would never hurt me.

Two weeks after that, as the thirst became more than I could resist, we both realized it was no longer in our hands. I had the overwhelming thirst, the overwhelming desire that only you could quench, and, yet, the more I got, the more I wanted. Being that vulnerable was new to me. Never realizing that it was to become an obsession on your part as well only increased the effect. The thirst was out of control, much like the thirst in my introduction.

At times, I feel like nobody could possibly comprehend it, because, even though it is here and now, it is an unbelievable story we are living. One that, if told to either of us as recently as 20 months ago, both of us would have been incredulous and denying it, as if it were a fairytale. Who knew that a thirst could be so strong and overpowering?

I'm open and vulnerable with my thirst, and you have learned that only you can begin to quench it. It's not such a bad thing, is it? Unlike the thirst in the introduction, this is not so miserable. It makes sense. There is no denial of my desires, of my needs, and you have your desires met as well. All is good. And you still smell of candy and sweetness. Last night only confirmed it. I'm so glad my thirst is for you, and I neither hide or deny it. Knowing you understand and believe makes it so much sweeter.

Monday, September 22, 2014


I don't keep secrets. Well, not on purpose. I have a habit of forgetting things, remembering them, and then promptly forgetting them. Live with me long enough and you'll see it in action.

I'm also a horrible procrastinator, and I'm easily distracted. I'll have several "projects" going on at once, and I find myself wondering how it all happened.

The chronic insomnia is a frequent stumbling-block to accomplishing things because I will often fall asleep sitting up. Mostly, though, I'm just restless.

I wouldn't say uneasy or bored, but I frequently feel like I've neglected or forgotten something or someone.

Shilo has a calendar for me. It sends reminders, and I still forget. I frequently overbook or double book, and other days, I'm completely empty and wondering why I didn't book stuff that day.

I've been depriving myself of intercourse lately, waiting for Shilo to heal. I hate it. I also discovered that I hate using a condom for sex with him. It prevents him from hitting all the "good" spots inside me, and causes frustration. I don't want to deprive either of us, so I'm going to try to figure out a workable solution for the both of us.

Driving to Huntington Beach Sunday evening with Stitch caused me to get agitated because we (the other members of my Household) are feeling that a certain person in the Household isn't doing enough. I came home and started on a chore list. I haven't finished it yet, but I also haven't finished writing the changes in the Agreement that Shilo and I discussed. Both are important, but which one should be a priority?

I've been struggling with both for several hours, and neither one is where I want it.  I refuse to send either one to Shilo unfinished, so he won't get either.

The events of Sunday afternoon has me wanting to be (sexually) teased mercilessly by Shilo, but I already suspect that my inability to finish either document will probably severely curtail any sexual activity on Shilo's part because he (understandably) wants me to get something done. Yes, I'm the Dominant, but our marriage is set up where I "allow" him to have some authority, because if I didn't nothing would ever get accomplished. I want to be kept on task, and he does that for me.

I'm going to stare at the papers more, but I'm also going to message him and tell him now about my inability to get anything accomplished.  Really too sleepy to think straight.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014


Why did I lock Shilo in chastity? Or, rather, why did I have Shilo lock himself in chastity? Yes, it's a fetish... I won't deny that. But, but, well, it's a way to deny myself pleasure. If he's locked in chastity, I can't have sex with him. (Well, DUH! Merry!) Only, right now, it's more than that.

Just in case there's a new reader, I'll explain: I enjoy sex with Shilo. Better explained, I Love sex with Shilo. It didn't start that way, but it didn't take long for it to happen. Now that it happened, I think I could engage in intercourse daily, or, maybe even a few times day with him, and I'd still enjoy it. It didn't take him long to learn how to please me. He's pretty much spoiled me for anyone else. That last (previous) sentence sums it up. I'm guilty of silently comparing. I'm too polite to do it out loud, but I catch myself doing it. I want Shilo. I don't want Stitch, or Sherman, or anyone else. I won't turn down Stitch, but he rarely pursues me anyway, and, as for Sherman, he's pretty much decided to be celibate. Not complaining... I'm not particularly interested anyway.

So, back to Shilo's chastity: Due to many reasons (the heat, his indigestion, possibly even his age) Shilo has not been initiating much sex with me lately. Even though I (logically) understand why, there's nagging in the back of my head telling me that I don't turn him on, he doesn't want me, etc; etc. It's really destroying me. It causes me to feel sad and unloved. It sucks!  This isn't his fault, and no amount of logic takes away the bad feelings. I needed a solution, and I needed it fast. The only solution I could think of was for me to put him in chastity, because if he's in chastity, he can't have sex with me. This way, I can blame the chastity, and not all the unreasonable feelings I'm having. The twisted logic causes me to feel just a little bit better.

The bad part of this is that I think maybe Shilo might feel punished, and that is not a desired side effect. Anyway, I think my reasoning is clear. Not Shilo's fault, and shutting out feelings of self-doubt.