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January 30, 2005
Whole and Unbroken
This is a place that is uncharted to me.
A place where my usual methods of controlling perceptions are ineffective. You are too smart for that.
That the fantasies I've had could be a reality seems impossible. Like if I blink I will see the oasis for what it is.
Or I fear it will be no more of a reality to me than what I have discovered I've been telling myself for so long. A bubble burst. Which burst another and another, beginning a cascade which hasn't ended yet.
No one has ever given me that gift.
The first strike.
The first collar.
The first binding.
The tears and the comforting.
I want them.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 3:30 AM :: 1 Submissive [+]
January 28, 2005
Kicked My Ass
I'm just getting over one hell of a flu and cold and sore throat type pf thing that kept me home from work for two days. I almost never take time off for sick days but I felt *horrible.*
But I did get a lovely new haircut from the really cool hair cut place that I adore. *That* went swimmingly.
Hopeflly I don't get chewed a new asshole tomorrow when I show up all bright-eyed and bushy tailed at work tomorrow.
Although my voice hasn't recovered.
I sound like a cross between Barry White and Harvey Fierstein.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 12:13 AM :: 3 Submissives [+]
January 27, 2005
Zhjoozhjed
Trixie wore a pink shirt today. Button down with french cuffs. She never does the cuffs right, but today they were rolled back so I gave her a break.
Tigger wore a pink t with the number 22 on the front. A large white arabic numeral two stretched taught over each bosom.
Christ have mercy.
I don't think I leered at any point.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 11:51 PM :: Submit. [+]
AW!
Tigger asked me if I used AIM.
Want her ID?
Heh heh. J/K
I would never kiss and tell.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 11:29 PM :: Submit. [+]
January 22, 2005
If
Tigger, the girl at work with the Redmond kangaroo tattoo, was asking me questions from that damnable book called If. You know the one. With all of the hard questions.
Trust me, it was so slow at work, there was time to do this and still offer exceptional customer service.
She asked me one question which was exceptionslly difficult, because she added a little twist. The question was "If you had to spend the rest of your life on a desert island with only one platonic friend, who would you chose?" The hard part was the twist. Tigger added, "Because I don't know any of your friends, you have to choose some one who works here."
Well fuck me.
I ran through the list of likely candidates again and again, extrapolating each time. I seriously considered males and females, in the spirit of the question. Platonic. Right.
And then, because I'm paranoid, I realized that there was no right answer to the question. I began to consider the consequences of answering honestly—assuming the worst about the way people talk and the speed at which information travels.
I came to the conclusion that the best answer was no answer. Having decided this, I was free to be honest with myself and align the contestants according to the way I really felt.
Wednesday and Trixie were not seriously considered.
Tigger ranked three. Although she's annoying because of her demands for attention, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. The woman she is now is probably not at all like the woman she will become. Plus... She is more than a little voluptuous, which I can't ignore.
Second was Mary Ann. She is closer to my age, with a fair amount of life experience. Not what I would call a hottie. She usually wears jeans and a t-shirt or a sweatshirt. Easy way to disguise your figure if you don't like it. Or if you don't want it to be a focus in how people deal with you. She seems independant, but a little tight with her dad for my taste. On the other hand... Her tongue is pierced.
Tigger's tongue is pierced, too... but does she know how to use it?
First place in the imaginary run off was The Girl Who Wears Black, who shall hereinafter be referred to as Sophie. Tigger came up with that name for her. Don't know where it comes from. But I dig Sophie because she peppers her speach with French. Because her vowels sound european. Because although she is not voluptuous she has an exuberance and a sort of innocence about her which is more than a little child-like. Her emotional state is very easily read from the way she carries herself. Plus, again, she's very close to my age and somehow that is familiar and sexy, too.
Tigger tried and tried to weasel it out of me. To all of her questions, I would only reply "I'm not going to answer." I did reveal to her that I had decided who it would be. She had thought I was trying to cop out of deciding. This was not the case. It was hard to meet each of her new attack questions with the same response. But it was fun. I answered with a gleam in my eye.
I decided that was the best possible answer, and I hope it made her frustrated.
Now—for you my sweet and beautiful reader, I need you to know that none of these women necessarily represent any ideals of femininity for me. It was a very artificial circumstance and a very artificial selection pool.
I have said it before and I will say it again a thousand times: If I spend time with nearly any woman, no matter her race or age, I will find something about her that stirs desire in me. Femininity is wondrous and powerful. I can't say no to any of it.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 2:02 AM :: 2 Submissives [+]
Brown Eyes
Once upon a time, I was seasonal help for a city's operations and maintenance division. I worked during the summer and one of my primary tasks was groundskeeping—specifically, mowing grass in the parks scattered throughout the city limits.
I worked with a full-time employee and often one or more other part-time employees. By the end of the summer, you get pretty friendly with the people you work with. Breaks get longer and you spend more time joking with each other.
One day, the full-time guy was going on about what the color of your eyes had to say about your personality. He went on about blue eyes and green eyes and hazel eyes.
I asked him specifically about brown eyes, as mine are brown. He said, "It means you're full of shit."
At the time I was offended, and I didn't understand—especially since his eyes were brown, too.
Looking back, I realize...
That was the joke.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 1:42 AM :: Submit. [+]
January 21, 2005
Good Girl!
So deliciously naughty!
First I want you over my knee.
Then, if you're a really bad girl, you'll get a reward!
[+] Posted by Sinner at 4:58 AM :: 1 Submissive [+]
January 20, 2005
Just the Stockings
And the heels.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 12:22 PM [+]
January 19, 2005
I Would Love to See
You.
In black stockings and heels.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 5:47 PM :: 2 Submissives [+]
I Fucking Did It!
OK—I'm a little excited. I know maybe this doesn't seem like a major deal, but I finished moving out all of my shit today.
My ficus tree was the last thing to go. The base of the tree was on the floor in front of the passenger seat, and the rest of the tree stuck out the open door of my car.
I had my hazard lights flashing as I drove down the road. I leaned across the car holding my passenger door gently closed.
...
Jesus. What a fucking emotional roller-coaster this moving is. This divorce is.
I am ashamed at how child-like I've been behaving lo these many years. I am ashamed at how I have shrugged off responsibility and been irritable or rageful when I was asked to assume anything close to my share.
...
I am physically exhausted today. I worked all night two nights ago moving, and I slept until about 4:30 yesterday afternoon. Then I had a friend help me again last night for a while.
After he went home I hid from my emotions and surfed porn for... six hours or so.
I never thought I was going to get everything out of the house, but I did it. I just need to keep myself awake long enough to live through the closing today, and the work day. I think I have tonight off.
So my plan is to crash hard. Hopefully I will listen to my sensible side this time and give my body some physical and emotional rest.
I need to shut off and relax. I'm OK. I'm alive. And I'm OK.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 6:12 AM :: 2 Submissives [+]
January 18, 2005
Thank You For the Kind Wishes!
Moving is hell. I have an apartment full of bags and boxes and partially assembled furniture. And an empty house full of ghosts.
I'm sad and scared right now.
A little lonely.
I did have a few dark moments last night.
But looking forward, I'm a little excited.
There will be debts paid... and cash left over.
And possibly discretionary income.
And I want to travel.
That's all I know right now.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 5:27 PM :: 1 Submissive [+]
January 17, 2005
Holy Crap, Do I Have a Lot of Crap!
My back is killing mr. Ugh. But still more crap to move and then vacuum out the old place. Then... I can walk away from it for a while?
Ugh!
I just want to be done moving.
But I am wicked. Therefore I get no rest. ;)
But—high speed connection is back, baby!
[+] Posted by Sinner at 11:00 PM :: Submit. [+]
January 15, 2005
Or, Whatever.
Yeah. I hung out at my place tonight. For a while. Checked out the rooms. Tried to see what I thought might go where... It's a nice big apartment for one person. I feel lucky that way. It's not super nice... the woodwork has been beat to hell, and the door frame to my apartment door has been recently replaced with unfinished wood... Makes me wonder if maybe a previous tenant was... forcibly removed.
Linoleum and carpet are new. The walls are all apartment beige. I have a garage stall for my car—although there seem to be 6 tires and rims stacked up in the front of it. I'm gonna see about having them removed. Along with that fuel tank. Propane? I'm not in the market for any propane accessories.
But it's cool. I'm looking forward to having my own place. Really. I'll maybe stay there a year? We'll see I guess.
But the bomb was in the mailbox on the way back to my townhouse. Notice of the decree. It's final.
I'm divorced.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 1:12 AM :: 4 Submissives [+]
January 14, 2005
Rental Agent
She has a son who is about 7 years younger than me. She mentions this because he is moving out. She will be alone, she says.
Last night when I went in to fill out paperwork, she was about to go outside for a smoke. I told her to feel free. I know what it feels like to need something.
It's damned cold. It was about three below then. She stood with the door open a few inches. Most of her smoke went outside. She only took about three or four drags. Just enough, I suppose, and maybe one more. Her whole body was actually outside the door for a moment while she crushed the butt—really half a cig—in the outdoor ashtray.
Of all the apartment complexes I've rented from (OK, four), this one was the most concerned that I was aware of what was on the rental agreement. She read from each point where I needed to initial. She paused often to suck the candy in her mouth.
Does she still get nervous when she does this? Is she afraid I'll be offended by cigarettes on her breath?
She mentions that she feels like she lives at the complex, although her home is elsewhere.
This was just preliminary stuff I guess, that we won't have to do tonight when I come in with the money order. Which reminds me. I need to pick up a money order.
Her voice betrays that she's from the eastern USA. New Jersey. I don't ask about her background even though she has a lot of trouble with my first name. Everyone does. She asked if she could call me Joe or if I had nicknames. I didn't let her get away with it. I told her what I tell every one. My friends all have nicknames for me. When you know me well enough to come up with a nickname, it will stick.
Her hair is orange. Because she doesn't want it to be grey. Her eyes are not hazel and not blue. I looked at them trying to appear interested in the lease details. When I look into a stranger's eyes, it's because I'm telling myself that's what they need from me to feel like I'm hearing them. I'm not hearing them, I'm concentrating on holding the gaze. You get my attention or my gaze. It takes something pretty special to get both. They operate independently.
So I have to deal with this woman again tonight. She's giving me some shower curtains—leaving them really—because the apartment had been previously set up as a model. Not that it's particularly wonderful, it's inexpensive for the city I live in and for the larger metropolitan area.
I just have this feeling.
After I sign the lease tonight, she's not going to be finished with me.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 3:45 PM :: Submit. [+]
My Key
I'm think about getting into your lock.
And tickling your tumblers.
Until you release.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 11:33 AM :: 1 Submissive [+]
January 13, 2005
When I Don't Have to Hide Anymore
I see the looming separation and divorce as being these pivital events in my life. I've been giving them meaning in my life that they don't intrinsically have.
Liberation.
Why am I waiting?
Fear is my worst enemy. Honestly.
But from the expectations of society, and from my-soon-to-be-ex wife, I think divorce was the right thing to do.
Got renters insurance for my new apartment. Need to show proof of insurance before I can sign the lease.
Had to find out how old the building was and how many units. I feel relief and empowerment having taken care of that.
Tonight I find out how much the pro-rated rent is for the month. I'm picking up my keys tomorrow. Saturday will be when I move the big pieces and the majority of my belongings.
I have hardly packed anything.
It's much more fun to chat online or surf porn or masturbate. So I have been doing more of that than packing my belongings.
So... in general I'm panicked.
But back to the freedom thing...
I think it's sad that I chose to see marriage as a form of repression. I think it's sad I spent so many years being angry at my wife when she really didn't do anything wrong. Sure—we both made mistakes, but it didn't have to turn out like this. She really is a good person.
I think it's sad I spent so many years seeing myself as a fat person and a lazy person and a broken person.
So... I've been looking at the move to the new apartment and the formal divorce as some sort of magical deliniation point. When something wondrous happens.
But the magic and wonder are in *me.*
I just have to let it go.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 11:09 AM :: Submit. [+]
January 12, 2005
All I Really Want To Know Is
Is it long enough, baby?
[+] Posted by Sinner at 11:42 PM :: 3 Submissives [+]
Expecting It
No one likes a pushover.
Come here and push.
So I can push back.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 3:23 AM :: Submit. [+]
January 11, 2005
When the First Word of the Day Has Four Letters
I woke up at least a few times this morning. The last two times I was late for work.
Yeah. When you stay up until 4:00, it's not a real good idea to assume that you'll pop right up when the alarm rings at 7:00.
When you've done this kind of crap to yourself for several days in a row, the likelihood approaches zero.
Nevertheless, I persist in the believe that with positive self-talk and with the right number of alarms blaring I will awaken on time no matter how little sleep I have allowed my poor body.
Sex-addict? I don't think so. That's just behavior I've adopted to cover up for some other shit.
Gotta dig deeper.
China, here I come.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 11:14 AM :: Submit. [+]
It's Not About Eroticism
When the masturbation isn't even fun.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 11:09 AM :: Submit. [+]
January 7, 2005
Erotica and Porn. Porn and Erotica
RG has an interesting post on her site. It's one person's take on what constitutes porn versus what erotica is.
I dig it—the essay—because I think it's largely true. Porn is more voyeuristic, exhibitionistic and boastful. Erotica is more inclusive and intimate and emotional.
Mmmm. Touchy, feely....
[+] Posted by Sinner at 12:21 PM :: Submit. [+]
January 6, 2005
They Were Only Your Words
But I was on my knees, stroking myself, reading you in.
I saw you looking into my eyes, my cock lying on your tongue as you coaxed it. Milked it. Teased it.
You wanted me to come for you.
And I came.
And came.
Jets of come spurting from me.
They were your words.
But I came.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 3:19 AM :: 1 Submissive [+]
January 5, 2005
My Sweet Pet
How patient you have been!
I'm sorry if it felt like I was testing you. I wasn't.
Sometimes I get caught up in the beauty of your struggle. Your desire to be perfect. Your desire to please. How powerfully it affects you.
Every bit as much as I admire the curve of your neck as you kneel, waiting.
Come to me.
Slowly.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 2:42 AM :: Submit. [+]
January 4, 2005
We've Got a Thing That's Called Gmail Love
I have six invitations left.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 10:26 AM :: Submit. [+]
January 3, 2005
Kisses
I'm finally back in town.
I missed you.
[+] Posted by Sinner at 1:52 AM :: Submit. [+]
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