Call me _______

The conventional top titles don’t seem to suit me. I’ve thought of myself as “Mistress” once upon a time, but now it seems so strange to hear. It doesn’t fit. I don’t feel so much like “Miss” or a “Mam”. I don’t feel like a “Master” or “Sir”. To say “Goddess” feels like blasphemy and “Queen” or “Princess” feel too girly.

“Princess” seems to lean towards age play to me… perhaps my own prejudice.

“Majesty” sounds interesting but also odd to my ear.

Am I the one who shall not be named? Perhaps.

It’s just strange to me. To hear a name that doesn’t fit jars me out of a scene… it becomes an act and I become disconnected. It’s not to say I don’t enjoy what I’m doing at the time. It just births a kind of dissonance that takes a while to fix.


Sliding People

The words came to me while I walked up the stairs to my workplace…

Perhaps the people in my life are like sliding puzzles. The picture of my relationships changes. Their roles in my life shift, slide, rearrange. They get scrambled and with it – so do I. But sometimes they all fall into place… they all start to almost feel just right. I reach a level of calm balance (or at least as close to it as it can get).

The strange thing is that once I start getting into a calm, once zen starts to overtake my being, the worlds of others begin to rock and with it they seem to start trying to make me shift them into places that they no longer “fit”.

Then the sliding begins once more… with me gradually easing those people out of my life for a while.

I never really liked sliding puzzles.


On Edge

I’m into seduction and sensation. For my kind of topping – I’ve got to have seduction mingled in… the use of my sensuality to take the mind and body as “my own.” I enjoy whipping people into a lather even though I don’t do it often. This reminds me of how an old companion of mine fussed about how much of a tease I was and the certain delight I get from seeing precum and vulva growing wet.

I know I’ve got some dark depths… maybe not as dark as others or maybe I simply don’t realize how deep they run. I know I’ve got that place mentally where my fantasies turn to kiss the macabre. There’s the point where the safe and sane goes out the window in my mind even though they do not involve death. There’s a part of me that gets violent even though I don’t visit it perhaps for the fear of myself it induces.

There’s a part of me that’s a little violent and I guess it could be said that edge play works as much for the person on top as they do on the bottom… seeing how close one can get to madness… seeing how close one can teeter on an ever growing adrenaline rush.

A friend of mine mentioned before that they’re very much into knife play… though said as subtly as I pet them “If you think this is a big reaction from me, you should see what a blade does.” … or something like that. (This conversation was some time ago and my mind a bit fuzzy and frazzled to begin with). And so somehow last night turned into me trimming them down and then running the blade of a pair of scissors and Swiss-army knife along their flesh until they whimpered… tracing the point along their genitals and nipples... and they seemed to be in an interesting place between arousal and nervousness…

They managed to give themselves an orgasm after all was done and seemed quite content to calling me mistress… though the title feels odd coming out of their lips. Or it could just be that I’m the strange one.



Maybe I'm just a terrible liar... maybe I'm just tense about everything going on. My stomach is turning. I'm nauseous... and I want to stab something. I get the feeling needle felting will be invaluable to me over the next couple days.

Frustrated... and it's almost like he's trying to make other people happy... feels like bed hopping... and I feel ill. There's a line in my head that keeps coming up. "You've killed us all." Trying to not bite off my tongue... Trying to keep back any tears that might be bubbling up...

It always happens when I'm about to PMS. It always happens post ovulation. The time when I'm more likely to snap and argue and hate everything and everybody... Yeah... needle felting would be really helpful over the next few days... I've still got a bag of roving... I'm not sure how much but I think it's a couple pounds.

I feel sick... and a little angry too considering my last visit. Own my emotions. Trying to do that best I can. Using that "I" language instead of "you" ... Trying to not veil my "you's" in "I" ... Scrambled there isn't it. Expressing without blame. That's something to try. Something I'm attempting to get a better fix on.

So to try and fix my words now...
I felt hurt and left alone in bed that night I went to spend with him.
I felt discarded when he "promised" that there would be more than just a quickie... flirted all night... and then bailed due to no longer having any sexual urgency or simply "spent."
I felt stupid and used waiting for him to come to bed for over an hour if only just to cuddle while he played video games instead.

Opps... there's that "you" speak again... or it's that slippery line.

I am pretty angry about it. Even though it's all just "starting"... I'm tired about being right about his "wrong" choices. I'm tired of getting flak for voicing concerns and saying what I think. Maybe I just lack tact... maybe I'm crazy. Maybe it sounds mean - but I really don't think so.

I don't want to handle him with kid-gloves with my emotions.

Sure, feel a little sorry for him when his dates get broken - but maybe not as much as if I weren't "right" about the people. I guess it could be said that my judgment calls regarding others is a good thing… I keep myself out of trouble and make people pissed off at me when I voice my thoughts. Twitterpated? Yeah. That’s him… always jumping in and trusting so openly others with his everythings. What’s a me to do? Sure, I could just let him be… but it could be my mind is already making the switch away from calling him my “mate” in the way others might. Close friend I may have sex with from time to time. I don’t know how much I can trust him with my full self because he doesn’t seem to know what to do with that knowledge… he doesn’t seem to be able to handle that which is me.

He’s going away for his first “overnight” trip since we started dating. I’m not exactly happy about it but I’m letting him be. I’ll try to not be bitter about not having trips of my own at the moment.


Possible Entering Ends

I’ve a terrible sick feeling in the pit of my stomach but at the same time, I’m preparing for the worst or the end. The mouse and I had a bit of a blow out last night… or he had a meltdown. Part of me thinks he’s grieving a “lost chance.” Part of me screams he’s looking for a way out even though he doesn’t seem to want to. He says things like “I’m not cut out for this.”… things like “You deserve better.” It’s a matter of his heart… a matter of his self esteem…

I’m trying… and for every suggestion that I give of things that would help me feel better… secure… he pulls away from… he resists… He says I’m gate keeping by asking for information. I’m “rejecting” by saying I want to use condoms if he’s with other people. Fluid bonding is a major thing for me on a spiritual level… he thinks very little of it. With that broken it could be that I have little heart to want to rebuild it. Then again, we’ve not gotten to that point.

He’s fixated on “it’s over.” I’m letting go… but mostly because I think I might need to distance myself from him for a little while… not hold on so tightly… let him be as he is and see how things become.

It’s scary.
This jumping without a net, cord, or parachute…
It’s scary to wonder what will be… To know right now there IS NO SECURITY.
It’s frightening to know that even though I say I’m committed to him, I’m not so sure it’ll be returned.

I know things are changing. Things change every moment. It’s not the change that frightens me but the possible end… but at the same time, I’m ready.