I am a poster girl with no poster.

mind the gap.

My mind is my biggest erogenous zone. I know that’s pretty common and that lots of erotic intellectuals say that but I can’t stress how true it is.

I was at a party once. I got an OTK spanking. The guy was smacking my ass, rubbing my butt cheeks, fingering me, and other things. I was kinda MEH about the whole thing. I mean it was more entertaining then sitting around looking for someone else to play with, but it wasn’t really what I wanted to do. He wasn’t the kind of person that tickled the dirty parts of my brain.

Also at the party, my friend told me a story of how he’s mindfucking this girl who hates electro play. he describes the scene and the set up in a low tone with his face close to my neck, and his voice low. Now this guy overall isn’t someone I’m visually attracted to, but in that moment, telling that story. I was squirming. I could feel parts of my body buzzing… He dind’t even touch me but all it took was some words, some proximity, that electricity of actually not touching at all… It was hot to me. He wasn’t even talking about doing things to me either, but the twistedness and proximity and such just did it.

It’s the mind that gets me.

I could have danced all night

I have a mentor fetish. I touched on it a little in my littles post, but I was entertained by the thought about the movie “My Fair Lady”. It was one of my favorite movies as a kid. It was about a girl who sought to be in a way subservient to a guy in return for education to the point where she actually surpassed him.She also did come to love him.

A friend pointed out that Henry Higgins was a bsdm dom role model for him. This made me think about the fact that I needed Pickering too. Higgins was too whiny. Do this get me that, I stubbed my toe WAHHH, It’s one thing to be demanding it’s another to be a baby. But Pickering was the one who stopped and took a second to care for the mentee as well. I’d need both of those characters (Ideally as one, because I don’t think I’d be able to respect Higgens alone or feel the power shift with just Pickering)

The thing that started this all was the fact that my room is clean-ish and my bed was made* and I thought in my head, I made my bed, sir, can we fuck now? I’m a GOOD girl, I am!”

If I ever start talking in a bad cockney accent, you’re welcome to slap my face and tell me “In Hartford, Herrisford and Hampshire, Hurricanes Hardly ever Happen!” to which I’d counter, “Git yer ownn schooz!” to which you can say “The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plains!” and that would be hotter then any OTK I think I could receive. (I’ve got an OTK story! That’ll be for another time!)

*having a clean and presentable room is a turn on for me, makes me feel all adult like, and makes me want to have company over to be in my bed.

my inner little

I’m not a little in that common idea of the term. I don’t like to have huge stuffed animals, outlandish bright colors, big doe eyes, pigtails, and pigeon toes. Heck, that wasn’t how I was as a kid either.

I do get little feelings sometimes, but I’m pretty sure they are normal feelings that are associated into the little identity just because I see it reflected in my friends who ARE littles.

I’d like to have someone to be a parental figure. I’m into having someone who is smarter/wiser/more learned guiding me and molding me. I’ve always wanted to be the best in the class, to catch on the quickest to make my teacher/parents/mentors proud. People who are more intelligent or are wiser turn me on because I want to tap into that and learn from them. I’m an unintentional brown noser and not because I want to be awesome by association, but rather that I hope to learn how to be awesome myself.

I’d like someone who could be a bit of my protector. This post was inspired by a friend’s post about the song “breathe me” by Sia. He said when he feels that the daddy within him ache to hold his girl. Inversely, when I hear that song I ache to be held by someone. To surrender my trust and well being into someone’s hands for a bit. I can’t remember the last time I relaxed into someone’s arms.

Also, I’d like the discipline. I’m not always good at making sure I’m doing the right things. Sometimes it seems like it would be nice to have someone who will correct me when I fuck up.

But while this SOUNDS so nice…

I’m 5′10″, 300lbs, skeptical and I’ve been single for 6 years. That means I’m kinda large and intimidating so I don’t really need protecting and cuddling me is kinda like trying to cuddle a pitbull. I don’t really learn well from other people because half the time when they say something I go home and google it anyway. I’m skeptical about believing things from one source only. Since I’ve been single for so long, i’m ok at being sexual but horrible at being intimate, so cuddling is almost always awkward. Lastly, try telling me what to do will generally get most people ignored or yelled at. I’ve been on my own for too long and have figured out how to make my own decisions.

But the thought is nice.

BDSM in public…

AKA  “Why i’m not worried about offending you.”

I’m fat. That’s not going to change. Even if I diet like a fiend and make a huge lifestyle change, I’ll probably never get under 240lbs without some horrible invasive surgery. having said that, something new struck me recently.

I was looking at a picture that compared a girl in a cosplay outfit who was plus size, but not overly so, to another girl playing the same character but who was thin. Both outfits were well done but thinner one was shot in a professional portrait setting, so they probably had a better shot at presenting their costume nicely. The general consensus was that the larger girl was repulsive and should not be out like that. Some people made statements like “whale” or “put her out of her misery”. It seemed as if they were offended by having to look even voluntarily at an image of a large girl, god forbid if they were in the same space as her too!

Then there’s meme roth and all her fat shaming bullshit she’s spewing which is really just a product of our media society. God forbid the fatties live alongside these bastions of thin. As if thin people are never irritating to be near, or never have health problems. God, fat people are made fun of all over, and even if there’s a fat person at a gym they are still made fun of when clearly they are trying to change.

So if simply existing and not being absolutely ashamed of myself, was reason that others are offended, then why should I be so damn worried about offending their delicate sensibilities in other ways?

Combine that with people who simply offend me with no concern… people who talk on the phone (bluetooth headsets in particular) really fucking loud, people who wear perfume that makes me sneeze and have mini asthma attacks, people who wear their pants way too fucking low, people who use homophobic slurs in common language, people who call the entire area of the vulva the vagina, people who sport conservative or stupid bumperstickers, or the ideals behind them… Sarah Palin or Rush Limbaugh… The list goes on.

Mash all these things together and you have an atmosphere where I stop caring if I’m offending you and I jsut start enjoying myself. I’ll still be a good person. I’ll still hold the door for you, tip well, let you cross the street, and other courteous things, but don’t be suprized if I’m wearing my pro-abortion t-shirt while doing it, or if I’ve got a leash on, or my knees tied together and my panties stuffed in my mouth with tape.

I don’t care if my existence offends you.

oh hello.

Yesterday I taught a personal record number of students yesterday. 14 in one day. That’s 2, 2hour back to back sessions of 7 students each. That’s 14 pelvic exams in about 4 hours…

In my line of work it’s an entertaining thought to sometimes count your students. I’ve had 39 in one week, 14 in one day, probably around 200 people if not more, have been in my vagina.

I’ve lost 6 lbs in 5 weeks. when you’re a bajillion lbs that’s not much, but I guess it’s a start. I also like to blame on my extremely slow progression on the fact that I’m rebuilding muscle now too so… So there!

Makin’ you hot.

One of my favorite lays was this guy mike. I met him online and went to his place at like 5 in the morning. That could have been really stupid but he turned out to be some average kid about 2 years older then me really nice, quite cute, about my height, about half of my weight, nice arms, played guitar, had a decent job, there was really nothing wrong with him except his apartment was kinda drab, but hey it was a bachelor pad. he kept night hours because he did overnight shifts.

So I get over to his place and after some small talk he asks if he can kiss me, I say Oh sure. so we start making out and he starts touching me, and he’s like, “is this ok”and I say yeah, this i good. That sorta gives him the ok , and we really start getting into it. and then he starts getting a bit animalistic on me. It was really hot.

I don’t think I’ve ever been with anyone who was just that crazy about my body. Guys have been ok with my body, and have been willing to overlook the majority of it because I’m a cool person or I give good head or they just wanted something soft wet and squishy.  There’s been a few guys who’ve tried to LOVE my body to the point of fetishization, grabbing my stomach, rubbing it, licking it, and almost being more into my fa then ME. that was not ok. This guy though was simply just into my body. everything about it, nothing more then the rest, he wanted to touch, lick grab look at, squeeze every inch of me. it was really awesome.

And we fucked, and then when we were done, it was like 10 seconds of laying together and him touching me and he was ready to go again, I apparently made him that hot. He wasn’t the greatest lay, I don’t know if i just made him too excited, but it was very highschool rushed and very standard porn vanilla. omgkissing omgboobies omggirlnaked omghead omglickingpussy omgfuckingin outinoutinout-done, peel off condom, flop down. but just his sheer gusto for ME, made it hot and super fun, he just could not avoid getting hard at the sight of me. We had his highschool style of sex about 5 times in the span of about 2 hours.

It’s been a while since I’ve felt that comfortable. Unfortunately, that was only fleeting, but I just wish I had a little more time like that. I started getting a more daytime schedule and we wound up losing contact.

I like to please people, and I always have this nagging fear or worry that if I’m not directly doing something to my partner I’m not being pleasing overall. It was nice to know that for once being able to lay back and relax was truly undoubtedly pleasing to my partner.

Post more ehh?

So i’m home all the time at the moment. I’ve gotten myself good and injured and I can’t do much. I thought that this would make my blog boring. I really wanted to posts lots of stuff about sexual explots and deep thoughts…

But i’m such a lazy writer.

Even though I’ve been super bored, i default to crappy tv or watching movies online or whining on twitter… I need to start using my time to put down thoughts and build real catalogs of my life. I thinkthat might be better.

I’ve got a google wave invite, nanowrimo is going on, my blog is back online, maybe something can inspire me to do more.

feelings.

I’ve been told I don’t show my feelings a lot and that I don’t like people seeing me be emotional.

I find this funny because i’m sitting here in a not good feeling and all I can think is “how the hell can I tell the people around me about how I feel”

But really, why does it fucking matter what I feel? It’s not going to change what they do because they can’t do anything for me.

and I’m not one of those people can create some beautiful great art with their feelings. I don’t have a delicate or emotional ability in expressing myself.

At this point I have two options, can clean my room. Cleaning my room makes me feel better when it’s over and I can move better and it looks presentable and I find all new things to play with and do. OR I can go to sleep. In which nothing gets done, and I get more depressed and hateful of myself. Then I go back to sleep, wake up with a headache from sleeping so much, and realize it’s after dark already and the day is gone. Unfortunately the fact that it hurts to move a lot means my choice has been made for me.

I hate my body. I feel so betrayed by it breaking down on me.

I want to be functional or dead… not that I should be telling anyone.

the “daddy” issue.

I don’t have daddy issues like a lot of girls often talk about. My father was fantastic. In quite a few ways I was closer to him then i was to my mom. He was the house husband since he retired early and so he would drive me to school make diner and talk to me more often.

I miss that.

I couldn’t figure out why i liked my chiropractors so much at first. I feared it was something not quite right, maybe even dirty. Then i realized they had a sort of father like tone about them. They are both the right age, have children and scold me gently for causing myself pain. Then they cause me more pain, for my own good and sort of take care of me. They both have good personalities and one of them even had my dad’s radio station playing when I came in. It’s probably not appropriate to get attached to people like that, but what do you do when you just want that kind of relationship you had with your dad?

I miss my father.

Oh, Switch!

I just realized why i HATE the term switch.

I don’t just turn parts of myself on and off at whim. I’m both at the same time. When I top people rarely is it becasue I just want them to amuse me, but rather becasue I want them to have a good time, and If I’m topping a masochist, then a good time is having the poo beaten out of them. If I’m topping a person who wants to be dominated, then I’m controlling them, telling them what to do etc… I respond to the other person’s desire.

On the other side of the coin… I feel pretty fucking powerful bottoming. Sort of like, “Yeah I’m taking it… WHUT?!” you can degrade and hurt me a bunch but I’m still going to do and respond to the best of my ability. My reactions can also control how the top feels in the scene as well. Their scene is going to change if instead of just whining, I’m crying, or if I’m dead silent. Now some of that can be seen as being a manipulative bottom so I don’t actually use it, or at least not consciously, mostly becasue I get my rocks off on pleasing, but to know that they are available can make me feel powerful.