Punishment

I was a bad girl. If you couldn’t or didn’t see the picture, I called my Daddy’s feet hideous and He was not happy with me. I disrespected Him and now i am being punished.

My punishment will have two parts. Three if you count this part actually. The next time we attend a GRALE event, i will have to be on all fours and follow Him around that way. I will be allowed to talk, but i will not be permitted to raise my eyes from his feet.

When the time comes, I will be told to remove His boots and sponge bathe first one foot in a warm foot bath. I will make sure each and every inch of that foot is clean. Then i will his toes, one by one into my mouth and suck on them. After that i will suck on his entire foot. i will lick it and love it, and cherish it the way i should. His other foot will be next, and i will give it the same attention and adoration that i gave the first foot.

Daddy will judge if i have done my job well, if i have performed to the best of my abilities, and if He is fully satisfied with my task. i will be denied His cock until that time.

This punishment will be repeated the next time i attend GD2 with Daddy as well.

I misbehaved and i do feel as though i deserve to be punished. This will be humiliating to me on so many levels. To have it happen at GRALE, with my peers, my friends will be so embarrassing. To have it happen at GD2, in front of people i barely know will truly push that line of humiliation with me.

A note about this; I love humiliation play. While i will feel chastened about my punishment, i have no doubt that i will be wet because of the humiliation. The scene happening at GD2 will probably be both the hardest and the easiest to do. Hard, because it’s humiliating to be shamed so in front of people you don’t know, but easy because i know that i might never see some of those people again.The night at GRALE will certainly be the more challenging to me.

And another note; I consented to this. He is the one who gets to decide what i get punished for and what i don’t. I also have the choice to follow through with this. Please don’t feel that it is your job to be indignant on my behalf or judge whether it is justified. This is our relationship, our rules. Thank you.

My Daddy

So… There’s this man.

I’m sure you’ve seen Him before, with me following around behind Him like a love-sick kitty, my eyes big and round, with stars in them.

He’s handsome, in that good Italian-stock kind of way.

His smile is wide when He shows it, which is often, and his lips are incredibly  sensual.

He has these hands… firm hands, brutal at times. They can smack and punch and slap me into tears, and then gently push the hair out of my eyes and caress my face with them. He even holds me tight with this big hands, cuddling me to sleep.

His eyes haunt my dreams. That dreamy sadistic cruelty that may sicken a lesser woman, but only serves to make me ready for when He wants to use me.

I feel like we were meant to be together. That i knew i was meant to be His from the moment i saw Him. This may sound exaggerated, but if you ask a few people about that night, they will tell you it’s true.

When we sleep together His body curls around mine, protecting me, keeping me safe. If He happens to turn away, He still reaches for me, to touch me in His sleep, as if to reassure Himself that i’m in the proper place. Little does He know that I will be in that place for as long as He will have me.

When we are at parties, and i wander around being the social butterfly i can feel His eyes on me as i wander around. He doesn’t worry i will stray, but He’s always making sure i’m safe.

There is this scar on His shaved head and i always want to kiss it and lick it.

Our meeting was pure chance. The stars aligned for us and the momentum of life pushed us forward into this, and i fell into it, with arms and eyes open wide, ready for where the journey would take us.

On this fateful night that seems so long ago, a girl without a father found a Daddy, and a man without children found a babygirl.

Who Are You?

Sometimes I feel like a lost person. I have no degrees, no great accomplishments (except for raising an amazing daughter, but i have no idea how i had a hand in that) no particular talents or things that make me stand out from the crowd of other people, some who feel just as lost as i am, and some who seem to have no consciousness.

I have ambitions, but they are vague and for the future. I have motivation, but that’s mostly for the “now”, getting through each day. My goals are personal triumphs that matter little to the world around me. Some days, because of a sundry list of crap that is wrong with me, it’s a huge triumph just to get out of bed.

But….

I subscribe to this daily email that sends you little notes about your place in the Universe. It is, appropriately, called [Notes From the Universe][http://www.tut.com/resources/notes/]. The tagline is;

*What if the Universe were to send you little reminders of your power, life’s magic and how much you’re loved.*

How cool is that? I “get” that. Most days they go into the trash unread, the advice discarded. Today i was awake when mine came in. I’m usually awake when they come in at about 3:15am.

Today I feel a little bit less lost because of the Universe;

Mel, it’s the way you think. That’s your purpose. It’s never been about what work you choose, what gifts you develop, or what niche you fill – let these be for your pleasure.

Think as only you can think, which will lead to feelings that only you can feel, from which connections will be made, lives will be changed, and worlds will come tumbling into existence.

Thanks,
The Universe

Thanks right back at ya.

My Husband

I don’t think i write nearly enough about my husband.

Let me tell you about how wonderful my husband is;

He is my soulmate. He is patient. He loves me for me. He understands when i just need to be angry. He gives me space. He invades my space. He humps me in his sleep. He lets me have other lovers. He has had other lovers himself. He trusts me. He is quiet when he leaves for work at 5 am. He loves my cat. He is the best father that i could ever have wished for my child. He never listens to me. He always listens to me. He can be rough with me when i need it. He can be soft and gentle when we both need it. He is calm. He tries not to worry me. He calls when he’s going to be late at work. When he’s drunk, he adds an “S” to the end of every word. He also doesn’t stop smiling when he is drunk. He loves Family Guy. He puts up with it when i watch really cheesy girly shows like “Glee” and “America’s Got Talent”. He deliberately avoids the channel that has “Dirty Dancing” on it because he knows I’ll make him watch it. He checks out other women when we are together, and points the hot ones out to me so i can appreciate them too. He checks out other men when we are out. He will crawl for me. He brings me Ben & Jerry’s, even when i’m on a diet. He reminds me i’m on a diet when i’m standing in front of the chips and dip. He doesn’t get jealous. He puts up with my shit.

EDIT: Oh there are a couple more. He kills spiders for me, even though he doesn’t like them either. He goes out to the garage in the middle of the night with me to find a book for me. He laughs at me when i do something stupid.

There are so many more, i’m sure. But right now, in this moment these are the ones that matter.

Everybody Hurts

I remember when this song came out. It was ground breaking in a way that nobody had quite been able to show visually that each and every person has pain. It’s cinematic-ally very simple. Cars and people, thoughts on a page. One lone man steps up and declares his pain, and then everyone stands up with him. Deceitfully simple, but such a foreign concept to so many.

It has been used a number of times to show solidarity for causes, or people in pain in movies and TV shows. Now it’s been used for the Help For Haiti campaign with great effect.

Watch the Videos, all three of them if you have the time. They all are inspiring and hopeful in their own way. Or, just read the lyrics if you scroll down just a bit, they may help you through your next bad day.

Video for REM’s Everybody Hurts -

Video for Help For Haiti’s Everybody Hurts – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ts1HxVopG2k – Very Graphic
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zugOJU8bds – Not as graphic but JUST as powerful…

Just as an aside, please don’t forget that people in Haiti still need our help and donations to the Red Cross for food and services. Help is also needed with the Gulf Oil spill.

Close to home, SO much help is needed with the Oil Spill on the Kalamazoo River. More than 800 gallons of crude oil has pumped into the river.

Support your local Red Cross by donating or volunteering.

http://www.redcross.org/portal/site/en/menuitem.1a019a978f421296e81ec89e43181aa0/?vgnextoid=c788a0c29f32a210VgnVCM10000089f0870aRCRD

When the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone,
When you’re sure you’ve had enough of this life, well hang on
Don’t let yourself go, ’cause everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong. Now it’s time to sing along
When your day is night alone, (hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go, (hold on)
When you think you’ve had too much of this life, well hang on

‘Cause everybody hurts. Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts. Don’t throw your hand. Oh, no. Don’t throw your hand
If you feel like you’re alone, no, no, no, you are not alone

If you’re on your own in this life, the days and nights are long,
When you think you’ve had too much of this life to hang on

Well, everybody hurts sometimes,
Everybody cries. And everybody hurts sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes. So, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts. You are not alone

Song compliments of REM

Among Us

There is a spider among us
Walking along
The web of our lives
Thrumming the strings
Just to feel them vibrate

It Waits
Patiently
Quietly
For that moment
To
Strike
At whatever falls
Into it’s well woven trap
Of deceit and lies

What to believe of that tangled web

Does one pick apart the strands
To find the truth

Or does one believe
That the pattern IS the truth
And not bother to find
Where it begins
And where it ends.

Spoons

It’s not something that i’ve actually announced, because of not wanting to cash into any sort of pity, and because it’s so complicated to explain. It’s the “fictional disease”. It has no set diagnosis. It has no set symptoms. It goes undiagnosed in 80-90% of cases. They don’t really even know what it is, so how am i supposed to explain it so someone else?

I have fibromyalgia. See? It doesn’t exist even on spell check! It doesn’t have the same resonance as “I have leukemia.” or “I have a brain tumor.” but i promise you it has just the same weight to me and the other people that have it.

The last 8 years I’ve had test upon test upon test trying to figure out “what” is wrong with me. I’m on anti-depressants, but I don’t feel better. My whole body hurts, but i don’t have arthritis. I struggle to sleep, but when i do, i sleep for 16 hours straight. I get confused easily and forget words that i’ve known my whole life. Don’t even get me started on what’s going on down in my intestinal tract.

It was one little bump that I’ve had for a couple of years that finally gave me a diagnosis. I’ve had this sore bump in my back that kind of felt like a marble under my skin. I thought it was just maybe a cyst or something. When i went to the doctor for a regular med-check we talked about my pain and possibly changing medications for it, but that the medication i am on should have helped with it. So i shrugged, figured i’d just keep taking some ibuprofen and asked him to look at my back. Apparently these painful little spots are muscle fiber clusters and are caused by fibromyalgia and not much else. It took me a few moments to figure out what that meant. I finally had a diagnosis. It was a really SHITTY diagnosis.

I’ve been working hard at being positive, and being proactive. The doctor has sent me to an acupuncturist which is working out really well. Hopefully it will work up to having more pain free days than painful ones, which i have confidence it will.

So, you don’t have to pray for me, or light a candle, or give me any sympathy or pity. You can if you’d like, I would be very happy to have your well wishes, except the pity, you can keep that.

There are two things that i’ve found elsewhere that have really explained very well what is going on with me, and will probably continue to, and i’m including them here. So, thank you for caring enough to read this, and please don’t be hurt if i can’t make it to a party or gathering. Please don’t be offended if i’m not the sort of hyper, bubbly “Happy Goth” that you’ve known in the past. It’s too hard to keep up that pace anymore. I’ll still be me, just a bit more cautious me.

The Doll

She sits in the corner, arms and legs akimbo, glassy eyes staring at the room around her. She sees everything, misses nothing and knows far too much.

There is so much she wants to say, to scream and wishes she could be heard. But her mouth is only a line of stitches forced into a smile, so she can never speak. Besides her head is full of sawdust, so she can have no real thoughts.

Brighter, shinier toys zoom through the room, a new one every day, while she collects dust on the floor.

Is she REAL? Does the skin horse tell the truth? Will she one day be loved for just who she is?

Each day that passes, her eyes lose their luster, the rosiness fades from her cheeks and the curl falls from her sewn in hair. She has no sharp corners, and doesn’t break easily, but she is still treated delicately as if she may shatter the world around her.

What will she be when her stuffing falls out, and she begins to unravel? Bit by bit she becomes less herself. Those memories fading with the flowers on her dress, the words left unspoken and her eyes dull with the tears she cannot shed.

The End

Rarely do Story Book beginnings have Happy Endings.

Sometimes they end messy, sometimes they end civilly. Sometimes when they end hearts are broken and tears are shed. The words uttered and can not be taken back, nor should they be.

She looked back at the time that was shared and shook her head, wondering if it was right or wrong. Rules were broken and secrets shared. But once you tell a secret, it isn’t a secret anymore. Endings happen, like they often do, and she will wake up tomorrow, ready for another day, still expecting her Prince Charming with an evil glint in his eye, and ending up with the villain in sheep’s clothing.

Or perhaps that should be the sheep in the villain’s clothing?

Only she knows the truth, but that is one story that shan’t be told.

finis

Interrogation

Where do you go when you aren’t sure where you are headed?

Who do you talk to when you aren’t sure what you are going to say?

What answers can you expect when you don’t know the questions?

Why must it be this way?

When will it end?

How hard do you have to scream in order to be heard?