Words to live by, these.

Sentenced to Hell

You have sent me to Hell.  I may have been destined for it anyway, all things considered, but you hand-delivered me to the devil's doorstep.

You made me love you.  Not just by being you, but by engaging me.  You didn't have to do that.  We would have been simple, easy friends for the rest of eternity.  You didn't have to call me yours.  You didn't have to call yourself mine.  You could have kept things casual and I would have been fine with that.  I would have been fine.  I'm not, now.

You asked me for everything I had, and I gave it to you - every minute, every day, in the only way I knew how.  I gave it to you as I found it, as I discovered myself, as unfamiliar parts of me were uncovered.  I gave you parts of me I never knew existed.  I gave you these parts with the understanding that you wouldn't hurt me, that you would care for me, that you would tend to the wounds created in bringing these broken pieces to light.  I placed myself squarely in your hands, and you abandoned me.

When I tell you that there's nothing left for me, I mean it.  I can never trust anyone not to do exactly what you did.  I can't ever know that someone else won't see me as I really am and promptly turn tail and run.  So there won't be any after you.  That great love I always wanted?  It's not gonna happen.  It can't, because I can't let it.  The only person I trust with my being is you, because you're my best friend.  And even if you suddenly pulled a 180 and dropped to your knees and professed your undying love for me, I would never be able to trust you with my heart.  

So, I exist every day in Hell.  And some part of me will probably always hate you for that.

And yet, after all that, all I want when all is said and done is for you to love me.  

I miss being fucked in the ass.

Kind of random for me to just post about anal sex out of nowhere, I suppose, but hey... I'm in the midst of my mid-cycle horny-as-fuck phase and it's what's on my mind.

I miss that first moment of penetration, that razor edge between discomfort and pain, where my mind is reeling and my ass is protesting and I'm kind of breathless and gaspy as I plead for extra gentleness.  "Go slow," I whisper.  "I will," He says and his voice is different - slower, maybe, or softer, and a little more unsteady than usual and I wish I understood why.  And He does go slowly, but it still hurts.  Kind of.  But I know that just on the other side of the discomfort is an amazing feeling unlike any other.  And a few strokes later, the discomfort is slowly edged out by that feeling and my god it's like nothing I've ever felt.  It's so... warm. So warm and intense and so inescapable.  And I'm so fully and completely dominated (because, let's face it, nothing says dominance like having a cock in your ass) and it's just... it's me giving everything I have.

I.  Fucking.  Miss.  That.

And that voice?  It haunts me.  Every day.

Hallelujah

...
There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It’s not a cry you hear tonight
It’s not somebody who's seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
...

As it turns out, I'm awesome after all.

I feel like such an ass. Like a total chump. You see, I KNEW this would happen. Two years ago, before anything ever really happened with He and I, I knew if anything ever did, it would never work. Don't ask me how I knew, but I did.

He turned me loose. We're still best friends and all that, but the rest... it's over. And as much as I want it not to be over, or for the break to be a temporary one, something that will heal in time, it won't be. No matter how much I want Him, no matter how much I love Him, He will never be what I need. He doesn't have it in Him. The funny part is, I couldn't see that until He basically pried me off of Him. I was SO in love with Him and with the idea that I belonged to someone that I wouldn't allow myself to accept how starved I was for the kind of attention and affection I need. I wouldn't let myself believe that He couldn't give me those things.

Now, though... Now I belong to me, for better or worse, and I'm free to get what I need when and how I need it. And you know, it's much more available than I believed. It's much more available than He led me to believe. I spent so much time never being good enough for Him, that I really believed that I wasn't good enough, period. And that's so not true. That ass that was "just too big" for Him to appreciate? Someone else DOES appreciate it. My lacy panties that He never cared about? Someone out there REALLY likes them. Someone out there thinks I'm good enough in all the ways He never did. Someone wants to flirt with me. Someone wants to kiss me. SOMEONE WANTS ME.

The thought that I'm not His anymore, that I won't ever wear that collar I so wanted, that I won't ever get to proudly call myself His pet again, that I'll never have sex with Him again... it still makes me feel like I've just been gutted, but knowing that it's NOT because I'm defective and it's NOT because I'm entirely undesirable gives me the hope that I couldn't ever seem to find when I was His. I want to shout it from the rooftops, to be quite honest. "FUCK YOU! SOMEONE WANTS ME!"

I knew this would happen. I knew He would crush my spirit if I gave Him the chance. I just knew. But what I didn't know was that it would give me the push that I needed to find something that can build me up in every way that His disinterest tore me down. That I did not know.

It's a lie.  Everything here, it's a lie.

Well, not everything. But enough.  

It's like it always is, like it always has been.  A lie.  Lies.  The part where I acquiesce, where I take what I get and try to be happy with it.  The part where I tell myself that soon, someday, He will want me the way I want Him to.  That if I can just find the strength and willpower to change who I am, to make myself more attractive both inside and out, that He will see me and want me.

But... no.  It is a lie.  I can not change enough.  Sometimes, I see it so clearly and it hurts, jesusmotherfuckingchrist it hurts so bad, and I can't bear the crushing weight of it.  And I close my eyes and I pretend, I pretend that today will be different, that tomorrow will be different, that someday soon I will be enough and I will feel enough and things will be different.

And around I go, eyes closed so I don't have to know the truth.  Until it slams me in the face.

It - this - is a lie.  

I am not what He wants. 

Nothing will ever, ever take that away.

Back on the horse?

I haven't written in a long while, mostly because it seems that I write primarily as an outlet for angst or as a way to clarify my thoughts on a subject before I discuss it.  There hasn't been much in the last while that's been so profoundly heart-wrenching that I have to write about it because there is no quick resolution.  (Don't get me wrong - I've had plenty of "I can't do this anymore" moments, but they seem to get resolved more quickly these days.)  Anyway, it seems that I'm back with more unresolved angst.

First of all, let me start by saying that shortly after He and I established our owner/pet relationship, He forbid my being sexual with anyone else but Him.  I'd essentially been forced to rely on Him as the sole source of anything sexual, unless I wanted out of our relationship, which I definitely didn't.  It was never easy, though, and it still isn't.  He and I have had a VERY difficult time communicating (strangely, only on this one issue) and it's caused some big misunderstandings, some very hurt feelings and some very bad days.  I became so attached to Him over the duration of our relationship, though, that for a very long time, I didn't even want to be with anyone else.  

Over the last six months or so, I've become increasingly comfortable during sex, and as a result, I want more of it.  I want more of Him.  I love making love with Him more than I ever have with anyone, ever, so it seems normal that I'd want to do it regularly.  To put it simply, He doesn't seem to feel the same way at all.

For basically my entire life, with rare exception, I've had considerably-less-than-frequent sex.  It's varied from every few days to every few months, for the most part.  I feel like I'm at a place in my life now where I should be able to do the things I want to do, and I want more sex than I've previously had.  I don't think that's an unreasonable thing to want, and actually I find it quite strange that He seems to want it less the more I want it.  Back when it was a constant source of frustration for me, we'd do it every few days.  Over the last few months, It's dwindled to twice a month, at best.  I'm having a very difficult time dealing with that.

He has some valid reasons for the reduced frequency.  For one thing, the more I enjoy sex, the more difficult it is for me to be anything close to silent.  I'd say I'm not loud, for sure, but I'm not silent.  I'm perhaps just on the other side of quiet.  Problem is, He's convinced that the other people in the house could hear us (well, me) and that's stressful for Him.  So, it's actually worked out that the more comfortable I get and the more I enjoy sex, the less frequently it happens. 

Of course, it gets more complicated.  We both agree that monogamy isn't natural or instinctive to either of us, and that our relationship isn't going to be a monogamous one - at least not in the traditional sense of the word.  He did forbid me from having sex with other people, but only because He knows how negatively sex had previously impacted me, and He doesn't want me acting out in self-destructive ways.  I understand that, and it makes sense.  But recently He started sleeping with someone else.  Ordinarily, I wouldn't mind.  If He thinks there's something He's missing, then I absolutely want Him to have it.  If He's not having sex with me with the frequency He'd like, then I absolutely want Him to get what He needs from wherever He can.  The problem is, since He's been screwing this other girl, He seems to want sex with me even less than before, and THAT hurts.  I feel like the more I work at this, the more I do my best to communicate with Him and let Him know what I like and want and need, and the more comfortable I get, the less He wants to be with me.

He says that He wants to have sex with me, but He prefers that it be when no one's home so we won't be heard.  While I do understand that, He's only rarely initiated anything while we're home alone, so I'm not sure that's all of it.  Now that the kids are back in school, I've started a new job that has me out of the house during the only time that we would have previously had to be alone (which, as I said, never seemed to be all that important to Him since He usually uses that time to sleep).  

It looks for all the world like the deck is stacked completely against me.  I work during the only hours that He ever wants to have sex with me - that is, IF he wants to.  Now He's taken to fucking another girl - not in addition to me, INSTEAD of me.  She gets the evenings that I would have otherwise had, if only I was quieter.  He tells me that He sill won't allow me to be with someone else.  I tell Him that it's unfair of Him to keep me in a box and only take me out to play on rare occasions.  But, there doesn't seem to be any easy solution.  Every direction I look, this feels like rejection.  It seems like He'd rather have sex with the other girl than me.  He'd rather spend His time with her because she's less complicated.  She isn't stressful.  She doesn't need the care that I need.  The funny thing is, I still don't really want to be with someone else.  I feel like I NEED to, but I don't want to.  I can't make myself care about finding someone new.  I want Him.  I want to be with Him.  And I don't feel like He wants me anymore.

All about me. Well, kinda.

Welcome to my blog! I figured I'd take a moment to jot down some random and not-so-random facts about me, since I like to know a little about the person I'm reading, and I'll bet you do too. So, for your enjoyment, I present... me! In 25 awesome, bite-sized chunks.

1. I'm an owned submissive. A pet, technically.
   
2. I still don't really know what that means. (He's still figuring it out too.)
   
3. For blog purposes, I refer to my owner as Him. (In real life, I don't have anything special that I call Him.)
   
4. He and I have been Owner & pet for about , give or take. We were friends for about 3 years before that.
   
5. Once He took me as His pet, we didn't have sex for 9 months. He did, however, get a blowjob every night that He wasn't sick or too exhausted to care. (I figure the count was at least 230 at the 9 month mark.)
   
6. He still gets a blowjob every couple days.
   
7. According to Him, I give great head. (And He doesn't lie!)
   
8. We're both in our thirties.
   
9. I've never owned a pair of high heels. (I'm tall for a girl as it is, I certainly don't need to be eleventy-billion feet tall and towering over the men-folk, thank you.)
   
10. I didn't see more than an inch of my real, unadulterated hair for 17 years.
    
11. I rather enjoy being a brunette now.
    
12. I've shaved my head once, out of anger. I had about 1/2" of hair left.
    
13. I'm an honest-to-goodness sex addict. Not kidding.
    
14. I've never been treated for said addiction. I probably should be.
    
15. I don't trust doctors. I rather loathe them.
    
16. My political preference would be something along the lines of anarchy.
    
17. I only drink coffee when it's creamed and sugared to death in ways that would make any coffee connoisseur cringe.
    
18. My favorite color is pink, followed closely by black and gray. (Could you tell?)
    
19. I know every. single. word. to Walt Disney's Robin Hood and can probably perform the entire thing on command. (Motherhood. Sigh.)
    
20. I also know all the words to Rocky Horror Picture Show. Years ago, I listened to the soundtrack every day for almost 6 months.
    
21. I don't really care for ice cream.
    
22. I'm in my 6th year without cable television. (That explains why I know Robin Hood so well!)
    
23. I talk a LOT. I love talking.
    
24. However, I hate talking on the phone, so I almost never answer my phone unless He's calling.
    
25. I started this blog on March 11, 2008. Originally, this was just a personal place to rant and whine, mostly. Sometime in June, 2010 (maybe?) I decided to open it up a little, and let it get some sun.
    

So that's me in a nutshell. Carry on.

e[lust] #17

Photo courtesy of Elle from Kink Unleashed

Welcome to e[lust] - Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #18? Start with the rules, check out the schedule and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

Editor's Note: A little change in how things are done for this edition - you'll notice there are no "Top 3" picks - due in part to the holiday I ended up being extremely short on judges and I didn't have enough for fair voting. So instead, I expanded my "Featured Post". (If you'd like to volunteer to be an occasional judge for e[lust], just email me, Lilly, at questions.e.lust @ gmail.com) Also, please be sure to check out the new summer schedule in effect until the 20th edition.

~ Featured Posts (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Why Pride is Still Important - When someone tells me that they don’t think Pride is necessary, I can’t help but believe that they go through life with tunnel vision. I live in New York where for the most part I can walk around being a big ol’ queen and I’ll make it home alive, but there are people who live in places where they can’t. Even here in New York you’ll get called a faggot from time to time by passing cars or groups of punks, and even here in New York I hear stories of people getting the shit kicked out of them just because they were gay.

Fantasies and Condoms - Our culture has created a narrative in which sex only feels good and looks sexy if no one is protected. We’re all suffering from this narrative, but sex workers are probably suffering the most.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Some days we need a little hope - I encourage you to practice random acts of kindness that could be worthy of inclusion on the site (GivesMeHope.com). Be nice, be caring, let your heart open up just for the sake of bringing someone some happiness or comfort. Do you know how good it feels to just give?

See also: Pleasurists #83 and #84 for all your sex toy review needs.

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!

Kink & Fetish

An Anal Adventure

Bound in the Night

Being a Tart

Danger may explode without warning

Found It: Pearls for the Submissive Wife

Morning Rituals

Shoe Slut

(another!) Shoe Slut

Spanking my ass while fucking so he feels every wiggle

Submission is impossible in the absence of humanity

Strip, boy

Swallow Falls

The Trigger

The Beast with Three Backs

Erotic Writing

A long hot day

And then we kissed...

A Picture of Lust

Ass Plug

'Come For Me...'

Depths

Exchange II

Forbidden Fantasy

Fucking Mika for the first time

Good Things Come To Those Who Wait

Getting Off...On The Road

Katie's First Time

Master Class

My Favourite Waste of Time

Microfantasy Monday, week 84: Addiction

Picture to Word 2

Sociable

Saturday Night Plans

Safe Sex

The Train

Thunderstorms are Sexy

Teaching Respect (Part 1)

You First

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Adventures in Birth Control

Erotic Awakening: A Swinger’s Comments

Friends With Benefits His Lush Behind!

Getting Started - Hotel Parties

Greetings From The Deep End - Swinging and Openness

How To Have Multiple Orgasms

Mr. Strong

Play Safe. Stay Safe. Get Tested. Be Protected.

Political Cuddling: Asking, Talking, Touching

Reflections on Glass

Something I Wish I'd Had 10 Years Ago

Sex: A required part of the college curriculum

Shades of Grey

Three's Company

Ten Life Lessons I’m Learning from Enslavement

Uncomfortable

Walk of Shut The Fuck Up

Sex News, Interviews, Politics and Humor

Interview with Scarlett Chaos aka Essin'Em

The Media is Not Responsible for Your Poor Body Image

To Shave or Not to Shave