Of Trust

I mentioned the want to be “milky” again to my boyfriend a few weeks ago. He said he wasn’t running for the hills but he felt he wouldn’t be able to enjoy my breasts if I was full. He said plainly that if it was something I wanted he wouldn’t go against it – but that he’d be less eager to suckle me in that state and that I’d “have to find someone” to suckle me dry… even though I’ve mentioned so many times I wouldn’t want to share my breasts with just anybody.
He hasn’t gone near my breasts since.

“It’s quite a shitty position I’ve put you in, isn’t it?” “It’s not an appealing thought…”

Of course, I can’t completely relax with words like that. For as much as I put up a face of “Oh, it’s okay” it hurt and I felt as if I was a /freak/ for wanting something so simple… so natural…

Maybe I’ve taken twenty steps back because of this. I haven’t been able to massage my breasts without feeling dirty or hearing some of his words… imagining his disgust. Just that easily it was able to hurt my image… my sensual self. Maybe that’s where I grew a little isolated from myself.

It’s possible I no longer fully trust him with that part of me – and for that, it has managed to lock itself away. In inducing lactation and having an ANR, trust is a major matter. I know this. If there’s any anger, any ill feelings, the milk won’t flow. We can be such selfish creatures while trying to be giving.

Becoming A Daughter of Baubo

This is one of the things I need not forget... I have to laugh.
Maybe it’s the Nuvaring leaving my system and things getting back to “normal”. Maybe it’s the dose of vaginal progesterone. (though that gave me a killer headache when I took it.) I feel cheerful now. I looked in the mirror – hair wild and naked. My breasts were touching my stuffed and slightly bloated belly. My labia peeked out from a long left untrimmed pubic mound. Then I smiled and thought of Baubo.

I have to remember to laugh. So what if I’m a little goofy. So what if I’m plump right now (even though I still want to get a bit stronger and fit so that I’m not so tired all the time). My breasts bounce when I jump. My stomach sways when I roll my hips. With each step my backside shifts. I’m full of sensuality. My body holds sexual magic.

I’ve cried far too much these past few days. I’ve worried too much about my boyfriend and what he does or doesn’t do. (Yes, I may still keep an eye on what he does with others and point out what is inappropriate – put foot down – I’m not completely indifferent…) I’ve wasted too much time worrying about other people and not taking care of myself. I haven’t been taking the time to tell my body and soul “I love you.” It’s one of those things I shouldn’t forget. I’ll be with me longer than anybody else in this world will be.

My magic and power to enchant are within me. I need to embrace that more.


Watching Others Watch You

I shouldn’t feel sad. I’m sure I could get just as much attention and I’m aware that it’s not real. You’re feeding into fantasy as I used to do – just for money. I shouldn’t feel jealous. You’re only talking to them in the way you never did to me – and for as much as I said I love flirting and talking dirty. Listening to guys talk to you, about you, making you their eye candy. I feel a bit unnerved but I know you’re doing it for the money.

In five minutes you’ve made enough money to buy yourself a sandwich by showing off your body. I’d be a hard buy…

I shouldn’t feel sad or angry. You first brought this up as something we could both do together. It feels a little painful though, peeking in and you not knowing. You’re making a couple dollars on your day off by showing your body to strangers.

Then again, there’s a limit to how many times a guy can orgasm on screen. A gal can fake it. I think I’d be faking it if I were on that screen. Truth is, I wouldn’t sell myself cheep and make people “work” for it. Even then there’s no certainty they’ll get a real orgasm out of me and I just might learn to get good at faking it.

I shouldn’t feel sad you’re camming. You look miserable during the moments there’s nobody in the room. You’ve been going at this for hours and having orgasmed. I’m sure it’s painful since you’ve been idly stroking for a few hours straight. Peeking in, you look more erect than I’ve seen you in a while – or it could just be the way your boxers are draping around your form. I almost pity you… but it’s work. It’s your first day. It’s early evening. I suppose it’s only natural that it would be rough too. Self control and increasing tempo of your idle strokes… That’s a good enough free show in itself.

You’re freely telling people of moments we’ve shared. You’re bragging about prowess I certainly haven’t seen from you.

Still, while it’s all a “game”… a pitch for money… it stings a little. Maybe, it stings more than it should as you beg for release and their money.

Sexless (or close enough to it)

There are days when all a gal wants is a big, thick, meaty cock to fuck. It’s true! I just might be prone to excess but I think I haven’t had enough of fucking or meaty cock as of late. My anniversary was disappointingly dry (among other things) and my encounters in the days/weeks before just plain disappointing letdowns. (Of course some might say that it’s my fault for not pinning down the mouse and having my way with him… having him give me what I want and TAKE ME. It’s possible that I’m gradually entering my peek and he simply can’t keep up with me.

It starts to feel its best after an hour of fucking. I need a lot of stimulation sometimes and if I’m distracted with a penis in my pussy, orgasming can be tricky… even if I was edging with my clit only milliseconds before. I like being full… love feeling my pussy stretched open to the point just before it starts to hurt (because pain means I’ve gone too far). If I’m not still getting wet, or staying wet, lube is my best friend. The moment becomes sweet and intense as I struggle on the edge of sanity and madness.

Too bad I don’t manage to get this far on a regular basis. The hour tends to wear him out or just as I begin to yowl for more, he deflates and finishes. I pant, curse, moan… and that proves to be too much for him at that point. It either puts him over the edge – or pain and exhaustion take him out.

It could be said that I’m closest to the elusive uterine orgasm at that point. Not to say one orgasm is a better kind than another, but those feel like they might be the best just from the crescendo I’ve never felt reach it’s true peak. It may be the stuff my multiple orgasms are made of. My multiple orgasms are hiding in my uterus and that’s why I need a Sybian!

And after that I have a cup of tea.

But really, this spell of bad and boring sex is starting to wear on me. I want to have sex until I’m raw and sore for a day or two afterwards. I want to be able to trace down the scratch marks and smile. MULTIPLE ORGASMS AND PASSING OUT IN A DROOLING PANTING GOOEY MESS!!! This is what I’m looking for. Of course, having my partner be in a bit of a passed out gooey mess would be fun too.

So I pulled out my largest, thickest dildo that fits, lubed it up, slipped it in my lips with my heel on the base, and rolled my hips while touching my clit until I came – holding back a scream.

And then I had some tea.



I only partly retract yesterday’s statements due to mood. In line with the reading I did for myself last night, I reject reality and replace it with my own. How else am I going to be happy? If I keep myself in the boxes that are out there – how will I grow into my truest self? How can I break free of my cocoon?

Hormone therapy isn’t bad. I have to remember that too. I don’t particularly care for what high doses of some progesterones do to me. I’m still going to work at kicking of the fat that using Depo and the Nuvaring gave me. (However, /that/ fat could also be partly attributed to eating out more and not running up a hill every morning.) After inserting a Nuvaring last night, I felt a bit better mood wise. I perked up a bit. I remembered how suicidal and depressed I’d feel before I started hormonal birth control and how everything seemed to level out mentally once I did. (Then again, that could have also been the influence of having sex on a slightly more regular basis.)

I’ll be on the Nuvaring and using progesterone vaginal suppositories for approximately 2 months (or in other words, until June’s moon). I know that this will cause my menstrual cycle to reset it self, it also might make my periods heavier for a month or two. (or lighter with spotting all month). I still have access to progesterone cream. I’ll just have to wait and see what the end result will be.

In regards to my milk inducing, I might invest in an electric pump eventually. For now I can let the hormones do their thing and help my breasts develop/mature more ducts.



Cheap significant others are a ton of fun, aren’t they? The mouse and I had our four year dating anniversary this weekend and I’m feeling as if I’m doing far too much. I would hate to think of myself as being really materialistic, but at the same time, it feels like he didn’t give it much thought at all and hid behind “I’m not good at things like this.” He played the song he was working on as far back as his last girlfriend and seems to have forgotten he told me as much the first time he played it and then that the lyrics were inspired by me when the ones that started it were in “her” song. I spent money on gifts, labored over a craft, and cooked something especially for him.

And, reading that back it feels like a game of “the most”.

Thinking of the relationship, I’m feeling a bit hurt right now and I’m sure if it were it’s own speaking monster, it wouldn’t be too happy right now either. I’m reminded a little of the Valentine’s Day he spent playing video games with a friend. On our anni night, while I was feeling a little ill during the day and he let me sleep, when I felt better once again he stayed up all night once more playing video games. I tried to have a heart to heart with him about our relationship and even then he had one eye to his game.

There’s a sting.

I don’t want to be his mother. He tried to be intimate but I think it just hurt too much emotionally at the time to open up. It felt like he wanted yet another “gift”… and at that point it felt like an insult or attempting to placate. I think it was this morning I said that I expected nothing for our anniversary. I hoped for something special, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. It goes back to the sentiment of “it would have been nice”, but there was no realistic expectation of something. Maybe that’s the saddest part of it all.

I might even be too depressed to masturbate…


Broken Blood

It seems whenever my flow is about to begin – my mind falls into a deep fog which breaks as soon as the first bits of blood flow. As soon as the bleeding starts with clotting and tissue, my mind clears and my mood lifts. The congestion is leaving me and my energy starts to flow freely again. I wonder if that’s what other women feel.

It’s true that this month I was a little concerned with the delay in mind, but at the same time hope this is a legitimate shift in my cycle as a whole and not just a result of my exercising just as the first tinge of spotting began last week. I have a convention to attend next month and the heaviest and most painful days fall right in the midst of it all. I could take the more spiritual meditative approach, but I don’t know if I’m THAT in tune with my body to will away a heavy flow.



I’m not quite sure where I read it, but some women use self sucking as a method of assisting their induced lactation. I haven’t been able to express manually for some time now, though I’ve felt my breasts heavy and sometimes “wet” with want. While in the middle of a workout the other day I think I had a bit of a let down reflex, as well. (or at least it FELT like that. Milk glands are modified sweat glands after all).

Yesterday, about an hour of hydrated exercise and a shower, I tried self sucking for a moment while touching myself. My labia were dry mostly until I clumsily fit my nipple in my mouth. Then with a few suckles – out came a salty fluid. It wasn’t very thick. It wasn’t thin like saliva. However, I could taste the saltiness of it. I tried again a little later and more came out. I tried once more when I got home and still more. That never happened before.

Am I happy about it? I’m excited but I’m not sure if happy is the right word. I’m smiling pleased with myself, but I hope it doesn’t go away as soon as my period ends. It was due to start yesterday, and usually suckling and orgasms get the blood moving.

My period seems to be delayed as well. I’m not worried about pregnancy as Misty seems to be still be well in place. It could very well be just because of the change of season and the fact that I’ve been exercising like mad lately. That actually may be the reason, as I’d been cramping up a storm as I usually do before my period begins, got one day of the tell tale spotting. (That came after a bout of cervical cramps) THEN I decided to do a workout to try to deal with the aches, along with a strong cup of White Sage tea. I’d think the White Sage would have dried me up … but here I am with salty wet nipples.