Thursday, July 25, 2013

Happiness! Excitement! Short Skirts!

Hi everyone!

My life has gotten so full and exciting that it has been a challenge to stay on top of the blogging!  But never you worry I am percolating on some exciting topics for you in the days to come--femdom marriage ceremonies, burlesque sexiness, kinky photo shoots and more.

I am really stepping into my dominance, thanks to my husband and my wonderful submissives, along with a few long distance admirers.  When I began this journey I very much wanted to believe that I could be beautiful, powerful, and in control--no matter my size, fears, and insecurities.  But when I began this journey, I was still very shy, tentative, and self conscious.  And today, right now at this very moment I am happy, confident, proud, excited, and very much in love with the life I am living and the people in it. And today, I am wearing a short skirt out of the house because I look hot and I feel like it!  How fun to tease all those horny and helpless boys at the grocery store! Haha!

Opening up my marriage has been one of the hardest things I've done in a long time and it requires a lot of work and self honesty, but having the freedom to explore my kinks, passions, and sexuality is truly a gift.  And I love my husband all the more for his willingness (and work) to love me as the woman I am--a woman with an insanely high libido, a kinky, dirty mind, a love of connection, and a lot of curiosity about human sexuality.  Without my beautiful and loving husband, I don't know where I'd be.  With his support, I'm in graduate school and working towards my sex educator certification (by the way, when anyone asks what I do, or what I'm studying, I reply perkily with a great big grin--I'm studying sex, isn't that awesome?), practicing and training as a dominatrix, and dancing with a local burlesque group.  For nine months of the year, I'm studying furiously, writing papers and teaching classes, and it has been a huge blessing to spend the summer getting my hands dirty as it were (if you don't know what I mean, read the previous post), and gaining the experience I need to re-enter my studies with new questions to explore.

And the biggest surprise of the summer--loving my body, just as it is!  I've never had the perfect body, and certainly becoming a mother brought with it changes, some expected and some unexpected.  The great thing about being a female dominant is that when you have a good and true slave, they adore and worship you no matter what.  It's incredibly empowering.  So even though my thighs are not perfect, my belly has stretch marks and I have a tummy that will probably never go away, it is ALL a part of who I am and my submissives worship me in my entirety.  As a dominant, it isn't about the submissives wants and needs.  If I want to dress sexy and show off my body, so be it.  And if not, that's fine too.  I can grab one of my sluts by the hair or the collar and shove his face into my cunt if I so please and there's not a damn thing he can do about it.  And you know what else I've learned?  Confidence and comfort in your own skin is sexy as fuck.  A gorgeous and perfect woman with no confidence, no personality and no fire inside of her is not hot.  A size 10 woman with stretch marks and thigh dimples who loves who she is, knows what she wants and makes it happen--now that gets a cock hard!  So, dear readers, get out there and do what you love inside of the bedroom and out, because that is what will make you feel strong and sexy--no matter your external packaging.

And on that note, here's something hot I wrote about nakedness, vulnerability and stretch marks just a few months after I gave birth.  I think I've come a long way.  Enjoy!

I'm driving myself towards loves and lusts and lives of passionate intensity and yet stopping short as I raise my hand to knock on the door. Heart pounding in my chest, I stand frozen, looking through opaque windows, unable to predict what waits within.

I am not afraid of what I might find within, but how my lover will find me. Rejection is always painful, but to be seen and potentially refused by my living dream threatens every bit of my tenderly woven being. Not wanting to leave, and afraid to enter, I am caught in my own liminal purgatory. Standing there, sweating, wanting to meet the object of my long tended desires, desperate for connection and overexcited at the thought of imagined pleasures, wetness spreads between my thighs and seeps into my jeans. I smell of fear and desire, and I blush hot, knowing that my desire and quivering frame will betray me at first glance.

I walk away, rushing down the sidewalk, cool wind rushing around and through me. I near the safety of my waiting car, and stop again, feet frozen to the pavement. Gathering every last bit of courage, I peel my shoes up from the rubber ground, sticking in the heat, and force my feet back to you. Waging an internal war, both sides losing, each step is a profound effort.

Ascending the stairs a second time, I stand upon the doormat and take a deep breath. Unwilling to wonder for the rest of my life, living but a shadow of desire, I press the little yellow button, hearing bells chime within. Hand holds hot hand, thighs tightly pressed together, nipples insinuate and breasts heave. I'm dying for you to answer the door, and desperately hoping you won't. As I turn to leave, you open the door wide.

You take one look at me, ragged and disheveled with desire, clothes damp and limp, and grab my slick hand, pulling me in. I stumble across the threshold and stare open mouthed as the door swings shut, sealing us inside. Unable to escape, eyes turn to gaze shyly on you, knowing you're unashamedly running your eyes over my dripping form. You ogle me, knowing that I want you to look, want you to see me.

Without a word, still rooted to the floor, I pull my shirt up over my head, dropping it onto the floor, revealing heavy swollen breasts cupped tightly in a black bra. Barely containing me as it is, I reach around and unhook the bra that digs into my tender flesh, leaving red marks on shoulders and back. My bra joins my shirt on the floor, and huge breasts fall free. I want you to see the way they lay on my stomach, nipples dark and eager, belying my shyness.

I let you gaze upon me, showing you my beautiful, imperfect body. I run my hands along my belly, tracing the paths of dark stretch marks, a map left of former fullness. My belly still slightly swollen and newly empty, not entirely realizing that a child has been born. Unbuttoning the top button of my jeans and fumbling with the zipper, I wiggle out of my jeans, sliding them down to my ankles. Bending over, I let you drink in the way my breasts fall forward and the curves of my ass beg for you to grab them. But you don't.

Stepping out of my jeans and leaving them in a crumpled pile upon the floor, I stand up and look back at you, eyes meeting for the first time. Heart beating frantically as I stand there, letting you see all of my vulnerability, my new body, neither mother nor girl. Breasts milky and full, both sexual and practical, I am a complicated mess of a woman.

Curves in new places, marks tattooed on flesh, muscles firm and strong from carrying a baby nine months inside and four months outside. You don't need to do anything. Just watch me.

Hands caress exposed flesh, turning that you can see me from every angle, letting you take in every dimple and fold of supple flesh. Standing before you, my nakedness is barely concealed by a pair of wet, thin panties. I gently stroke the insides of my thighs, reaching between my legs to rub the swollen wet mound within.

Sliding hands down hips and inside fabric, I touch my hot cunt while you watch. Breasts bounce and legs sway as I rub myself harder, excited beneath your curious gaze. In an instant my damp modesty lies abandoned upon the floor. I stand naked and quivering, a human goddess, Inanna* stripped and bound, waiting to be reborn.

I am no longer the woman I was. I am changed, and I am shedding my former skin for wiser, fuller flesh. I want you to witness my transformation, recording the ineffable events upon your heart. There I will grow and thrive, impervious to threats of unbelievers. This is the closest we will come to the divine.

In my vulnerability, stripped of pride and beauty, flesh unbound and skin transparent, I find ecstasy. Fingers finding exposed, erect clitoris, unashamedly taking my pleasure before you. Risks taken and pleasure sought, I press onward, no longer content with a life of mediocrity. Pulsing with life, I come to orgasm right there, knees weakening and mouth uttering screams wild and dark.

Still rubbing my clitoris, not daring to let go, I cum again and again, not caring if you like what you see, forgetting that I am made of mere flesh and blood. Dreams mingle with reality, each moment made of orgasm. We could share a cup of coffee or sit and read the newspaper, and still I'd be unfolding in ecstasy. With each spasm of my tight cunt, I approach my deepest self, and imbued with pleasure, continue upon my crooked path to the Goddess.

It's time for me to pull out my mirror again and take a look at the new cunt resting between my legs. I'm ready to open my knees and let you see what lies within. I'll show you my scars if you're willing to look. I'll get off on your perusal, letting your glance drive me towards divine ecstasy.

So read my words and learn my heart, for I live and breathe in these pages. Here I lie spread open and exposed, an ever changing woman, seeking pleasure in all its forms. I am not a goddess, but merely a woman striving ever towards union with the gyrating world.

*Inanna was the ancient Sumerian goddess of sexual love, fertility, and war. Legend has it that Inanna undertakes a journey to the underworld of spiritual and sexual initiation. In order to descend to the depths of her dark femininity, Inanna must remove each article of her clothing, one by one, until she is completely naked and vulnerable. Only then can she enter the underworld. She removes her crown, stripping herself of her divinity, her earrings and strands of beads around her neck. She unfastens her gold breastplate, engraved with the words "Come man, come," forsaking her sexual charms, abandoning her woven girdle, and finally her royal breechcloth.

Naked and mortal she descends to the realm of her infernal sister, Erishkigal, and there she is crucified by the wrath of the dark feminine. Her flesh is hung on a meat hook, and her corpse rots until her consort Dumuzi and his sister, the self-sacrificing feminine, each undertaking their own journeys to hell, to resurrect the crucified Goddess. Thus the journey to the inner, dark self of the underworld becomes a task of both the masculine and feminine. It is only when both male and female confront their sexual and personal darkness, that they are united with each other and the earth.

While we cannot control the journeys of our lovers, we can endeavor to bare our bodies and souls, knowing that until we do so there is no hope of true ecstasy.

1 comment:

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