tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26816017646422674822024-03-14T03:41:50.589-04:00The Search Continues...The ongoing story of a kinky poly woman's search for a secondary partner. Details of the blood, sweat, and tears (literally!) that are going in to the rigorous testing process and the successes and failures that have come of it.Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.comBlogger227125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-24538613314479649642010-12-15T15:41:00.000-05:002010-12-15T15:42:03.603-05:00Rock BottomSo I thought that my depression was bad before... I thought the downward spiral was complete.<div><br></div><div>Then I realized that I wrote 1,230 all about removing my fake nails.</div><div><br></div><div>Then I had to spend Friday cocooned in my bed pretending that I didn't write 1,230 words about fake nails.</div> <div><br></div><div>Then I worked all weekend and hit the first of what I'm sure will be many 60 hour weeks.</div><div><br></div><div>Then I baked 150 lemon almond cookies, a gross of brownies, 2 dozen chocolate chip cookies, 2 dozen oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and 5lbs of almond roca.</div> <div><br></div><div>Then I spent Monday coming down from the contact high from all of the sugar.</div><div><br></div><div>And now I'm here, recovering like a junkie going through some sort of weird withdrawal.</div><div> <br></div><div>Be patient with me Dear Readers... I promise you something actually exciting will happen to me eventually.</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-11732115544089598632010-12-09T20:51:00.000-05:002010-12-09T20:52:15.063-05:00Declawed<div>For the last year and a half I have been ferocious... indestructible... gorgeous but elegant... fierce but classy...</div><div><br></div><div>I am, of course, talking about my nails.</div><div><br></div><div>Deep, dark confession time Dear Readers - my nails were fake.</div> <div><br></div><div>let's not delve in to the psychological ramifications of the above description and identity being tied to an artificial component of my body. We'll just gloss over that, skip the sociological rant about patriarchal society and body image and women and blah, blah blazzzzzzz..zzzzzzz.zzzzzz</div> <div><br></div><div>I've never been able to grow my natural nails out very long because they're rather weak, and I wanted long, strong nails. If I paid someone every month, I could get them. So I did.</div><div> <br> </div><div>When I moved downtown though, I made a startling discovery.</div><div><br></div><div>First, a bit of a lesson on fake nails:</div><div><br></div><div>Out in the 'burbs, biogel nails are all the rage... these nails use a UV hardened, self leveling gel instead of the acrylic powder/acetone combination of the fake nails of days gone by. It's supposedly better for your nails, but I suspect the real benefit is for the nail techs who no longer need to inhale the fumes and dust associated with acrylics. The other bit of marketing genius, is that biogel comes in a rainbow of colours, and you can remove nailpolish from it without damaging the (fake) nail underneath. With acrylics, nail polish remover of any sort will melt them. This means that you can walk in, get a French tip manicure (or pink or green or teal or whatever colour you want) that won't chip/fade/etc and in the month between maintenance appointments you can paint over them with whatever nail polish you have, then remove it to reveal the colour underneath. Brilliant!</div> <div><br></div><div>Now that I'm done selling you on biogels, let me tell you about my big discovery:</div><div><br></div><div><i>Downtown hasn't gotten on the biogel bandwagon. </i></div><div><br></div><div>When I moved in with LD ages and ages ago, I started looking for a nail salon downtown who I could go to for upkeep. Who wants to drive out to the 'burbs just to get your nails done? I tapped in to my twitter, my facebook, to yelp and various other communities to no avail. No one knew of a salon that did the colour biogel.</div> <div><br></div><div>I took to wandering the streets. I went to the salons that were closest to LDs place and found a couple that could do biogel, but not the coloured stuff. Acrylics were their big push though and they tried to tell me how awful biogel was. </div> <div><br></div><div>I tried a couple of them, getting the regular biogel done and then coloured with nail polish. All did an abysmal job... one set were all bumpy (how do you make something uneven that's self leveling?!)... another started to chip and break and lift off within a week of getting them done... </div> <div><br></div><div>A couple of others apparently did regular biogel (not colour) but had terrible reviews all over the internet. I gave those a wide berth - who wants to risk poorly sterilized tools and bad service? </div> <div><br></div><div>I found one place that had the coloured stuff, but don't normally do fake nails of any sort and did everything by hand. I tried them once and decided that I just didn't have the patience to spend 4 hours getting my mani/pedi done.</div> <div><br></div><div>After that experience I went back to the 'burbs for my upkeep. This ends up taking up an entire weekend day by the time I drive out there, get my nails done, and drive back. Totally not worth it long term.</div> <div><br></div><div>When I moved downtown, I said to myself "I'm going to be down here for at least 6 months. I am NOT driving out to get my nails done" ...</div><div><br></div><div>So I continued with my research, looking for nail places that were close to my new place, one again coming up blank for salons that did biogel (let alone colour biogel). In my research though, I found this fantastic! revolutionary! incredible! product by OPI called Axxium ... it's... UV hardened gel nail polish.</div> <div><br></div><div>Basically colour biogel for natural nails. All of the benefits of biogel (won't chip/fade/etc, adds some strength to your nails, UV hardened so you walk out the door with perfectly dry nails that you can't smudge), without the downside of fake nails (the adhesives and fumes and filing and leaching of nutrients from your nails).</div> <div><br></div><div>I was left with the choice of either continuing to trek out to the 'burbs to get my nails done once a month (and then back out if/when anything broke, etc) or I taking off the tips and switching over to Axxium (of which I found 3 salons offering the service nearby). Coupled with the knowledge that even though the biogel is <b>better</b> for you, it's still not <b>good</b> and weakens your nails and potentially leaches bad chemichals in to you and all sorts of other hippy shit that I don't actually believe but am using as additional justification for my decision...</div> <div><br></div><div>I declawed myself.</div><div><br></div><div>Going to one of the salons that had previously done a shit job on maintenance, I asked them to remove the tips.</div><div><br></div><div>Ok, so maybe that was a mistake... I'm pretty certain I could have done a better job myself.</div> <div><br></div><div>Left with what could generously be described as 'bloody stumps' I hightailed it over to one of the salons that does the Axxium. One look at my hands had all of the girls cooing and sympathizing over how awful they look and how much they must hurt, etc. Then came the prognosis that what was left of my nails were too weak and damaged to hold the Axxium, and that I'd need some time to heal first.</div> <div><br></div><div>At this point, I have to say though that the ladies at the 'real' salon were incredible and by the time I left there you wouldn't recognize my hands as the ones I brought in to them. They worked magic with what was given to them, and I've already booked my next appointment with them.</div> <div><br></div><div>This, Dear Readers, is how I've ended up declawed. My natural nails are cut down to the nail bed, and so soft and weak that I am unable to even scratch an itch effectively. My cuticles are still healing from the rough treatment from the tech who removed my tips. I'm dosing my nails with strengthener every day, and cutting/filing them down as they grow to get rid of the damaged parts. I'm hoping that by my next appointment at the end of the month that a good portion of the most damaged bits will have grown out.</div> <div><br></div><div>I will admit, that I quickly regretted removing the tips. Despite knowing that it's really "better" not to have them, going from long, strong, beautifully manicured nails to being unable to properly operate the clasps on my necklaces is taking quite a bit of adjustment. If it weren't for the fact that my nails are too weak and damaged to even put new tips on, I might have gone right back out to the 'burbs and asked my regular nail girls to make me whole again.</div> <div><br></div><div>So Dear Readers, if you see me over the next few months, please do me a favour and don't look at my hands. I'm spending a lot of time hiding them these days.</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-28726103227384812842010-12-08T09:30:00.000-05:002010-12-08T09:31:15.811-05:00My Downtown Love NestI believe I briefly mentioned this in my catch-up post, but I have moved out of the HOIR. We determined conclusively that something in the house and/or neighbourhood was causing Alastair and I quickly had to find myself a new place to live.<div> <br></div><div>I decided that if I had to leave my white picket fence suburban paradise, I wanted to live right downtown - within walking distance to work if possible.</div><div><br></div><div>Lo and Behold, I found a place with not TOO much difficulty. It's a little small, and a little expensive, but I figured it would work just fine as a temporary abode.</div> <div><br></div><div>I moved in November 15th, and am slowly settling in. I'm almost there! In the past month though, I've noticed a number of ... oddities... that make me alternately want to weep or laugh:</div> <div><br></div><div><ul><li>None of the electrical outlets are straight... they're all just a little big crooked. </li><li>The entire place is tiled... but different tiles. The tile on the floor, the bathroom floor, the shower, the kitchen backsplash, and the front hallways are all different.</li> <li>Where the kitchen backsplash tiles had to be cut, they were not done so cleanly - in some cases broken pieces have been mosaic-ed in to place</li><li>Painting touchups have been done to the white walls with a slightly different shade of white paint</li> <li>The sole closet has two bars running perpendicular to the sliding door, not parallel</li><li>There is a large fridge with ice and water dispenser... that is not hooked up to the water supply</li><li>The ceiling in the shower is actually lower than the water supply for the shower, so there is a small hole cut in the ceiling to screw in the shower head</li> <li>The shower, which is a shower only - no tub, has a tap/spout system, and is positioned in such a way that it's impossible to turn the water on without getting soaked in cold water</li><li>Of the three sets of taps in the apartment, not one is the same. The kitchen has a traditional set up (hot on the left, labelled as such). The bathroom sink is backwards (hot on the right, labelled as such). The shower is fucked up (hot on the left, but labelled as being on the right).</li> <li>Speaking of water - my apartment is part of a duplex and in total there are 4 or 5 units, so there are a number of water heaters. Mine is shared with the laundry room for the basement units, so every time my neighbour does laundry, I have no hot water.</li> </ul></div><div>This is just what I've noticed in the last month... I'm sure as I continue my stay here, I will discover new and exciting 'quirks' to share with you all.</div><div><br></div><div>Do any of you have any great 'bad apartment' stories to share?</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-48164838236968755622010-12-07T10:20:00.000-05:002010-12-07T10:21:05.805-05:00My Body is an EnigmaThis past Friday I was putzing around my little apartment and I banged my hand on my desk. It wasn't very hard, more of a momentary "ow" moment before it was forgotten.<div><br></div><div>Saturday I had a bruise the size of a nickel.</div> <div><br></div><div>You're probably wondering why I'm relating such boring, humdrum minutiae, but just keep this thought in the back of your mind for me.</div><div><br></div><div>Saturday was the official celebration of the one year anniversary of myself and my Master. I came over Saturday evening and cooked a lovely dinner, and then LD brought out the toybags and a very sturdy armchair.</div> <div><br></div><div>Imagine if you will, a sturdy wooden chair with arms, and myself tied quite securely to it. Shoulders braced against the back of the chair, forearms resting and tied parallel to the arm rests, legs tied at the knee to the bottom of the arm rest. Rope across my back immobilizing me.</div> <div><br></div><div>And then the beating began. Hard and fast, it did not take long for the first tears to fall. Screaming commenced shortly afterwards. With very little wiggle room, there was nowhere for me to go, and Master was relentless. With a hand over my mouth to muffle my screams, He soon progressed to gagging me with His cock, and then finally with a towel in order to change angles. Whippy rope floggers, our bamboo stick (I refuse to call it a cane, it's aprox an inch in diameter), His fist, the dragontail whip... all met my flesh intimately - the only part of me that was safe, where those that were inaccessible thanks to the chair. The hard, wooden chair which ground in to my shins and shoulders and knees with every attempt to writhe in pain. Blow after relentless blow all bled together in to an endless sea of pain.</div> <div><br></div><div>Eventually Master accidentally hit my Christina with the tip of the dragon tail, not once, but twice... I had to tap out. I have never felt like more of a failure in my life.</div><div><br></div><div> Untied, I was weak and shaky - in shock from endorphins and pain and all of those wonderful things. Plus I had managed to lose the circulation in my calves and feet, and had been immobilized for... I don't know how long actually. Master got me in to bed where I promptly could not stop crying for a myriad of reasons, none of which I think I was capable of articulating clearly. Master stayed with me, cuddled close, and spoke soft pretty words to me while he warmed me up and brought me water and tissues. Eventually I slipped off in to slumber.</div> <div><br></div><div>The next morning I woke up stiff and sore and tender. My shins, my shoulders and my ass were all painful just to walk around - let's not even think of sitting down or putting pressure on any of these spots.</div> <div><br></div><div>However.</div><div><br></div><div>Three days later... still tender... but <b>no bruises</b>.</div><div><br></div><div>At this point, Dear Readers, I invite you to remember my first story, and share a hearty "WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING HELL?!" with me.</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-39910795657732073412010-12-06T10:47:00.001-05:002010-12-06T10:47:38.875-05:00Well Then...Let's see if I can get back in to the habit of updating every morning, yeah?<div><br></div><div>The other day, I received an email from a stranger... it read</div><div><br></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "><i>In this age of openness, authenticity, and social networking, I am amazed at the people and the lives I can discover. You happen to be a favourite of mine for your clarity of thought, your range of emotions - intimate and vulnerable, and the enlightenment that you bring to many topics including the poly and BD worlds. Most of the time, I marvel at your bravery for being some open but I suspect you are not a heroine in any way - just a human being living life to its fullest - bad, good, or indifferent. Are there moments of clarity or peace when you can reflect on how life is different from what you imagined it to be? It does sound like you never look back but are there any situations where you would have liked a redo? I do applaud you and wish for you much fulfillment in your job search, your relationships, and your beautiful soul.</i></span></div> <div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "><i><br></i></span></div><div><font class="Apple-style-span" face="arial, sans-serif"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">I am always shocked to find that people I do not know are reading blog, let alone enjoying it. In all honesty I write this blog mostly for myself and my Master, as a way to communicate my thoughts and emotions and headspace on a variety of topics. If it is an enjoyable read, or funny... well that's just a bonus, and just reflects my own self-deprecating sense of humour. As I mentioned in the last post I made, however long ago that was when I told myself I'd get back in to blogging regularly ad the didn't, this has been a rough time for me and the last thing I really wanted to do was share my pain with the world. I bundled it tightly inside of me, curled around it protectively in the fetal position and refused to let go. I don't know what depression is like for other people, because we are all special unique snowflakes, but for myself... the more depressed I become, the more I cling to it. It becomes this horrible self-fulfilling downward spiral. If someone could derive power from my depression we would create the ultimate perpetual motion machine.</span></font></div> <div><font class="Apple-style-span" face="arial, sans-serif"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br></span></font></div><div><font class="Apple-style-span" face="arial, sans-serif"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">I digress.</span></font></div> <div><font class="Apple-style-span" face="arial, sans-serif"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br></span></font></div><div><font class="Apple-style-span" face="arial, sans-serif"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Through the haze of this self-isolation I received this piece of mail. It was like a wake up call - reminding me that there are other people out there... a whole world outside of my head, and that I have millions of connections to it - some known and some unknown. It became a catalyst for my last blog post, jolting me a step forward out of my cave to rejoin the world at large.</span></font></div> <div><font class="Apple-style-span" face="arial, sans-serif"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br></span></font></div><div><font class="Apple-style-span" face="arial, sans-serif"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">I have much to over-share with you, Dear Readers, and I hope that I can get back in to the habit of flaunting the most intimate details of my life and flinging them in to the far reaches of the interwebs. Hopefully I won't clog the tubes with my filth.</span></font></div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-10787131155252655222010-11-19T13:24:00.002-05:002010-11-19T14:26:11.330-05:00I'm BACK ... sort ofHas it really been a month Dear Readers? What a god-awful 30(ish) days it's been.<div><br /></div><div>I'm going through some profound personal stress, basically in all areas of my life:</div><div><br /></div><div><ol><li>Alastair has been confirmed as a permanent resident of The HOIR. Last weekend I moved out of my house and in to a basement apartment downtown until we can sell/purchase a house</li><li>I found a job... sort of... was given a verbal offer for perm/full-time dream job starting in January, and freelance until then. Given the uncertain nature of the ad world, my freelance position has become closer to part-time hours at the moment, which is a little stressful. I also still don't have an offer in writing for the Jan switch-over, so I'm still trying to job search at the same time.</li><li>Other areas of my personal life haven't been all sunshine and roses either, but that's all I'm going to say on this topic... I don't feel like discussing it publicly yet.</li></ol><div>Sooooo... I'm going to try and start posting again, and I'll try to keep the angst to a minimum... but I can't promise anything.</div></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-56117949218714262612010-10-13T12:50:00.001-04:002010-10-13T12:50:24.922-04:00DyingZOMG you guys... absolutely nothing had happened in my life... LD and I both started feeling unwell on Friday (well, ok, I started to get sick on Thursday) and so as a result we spend Friday night curled up on the couch watching The Princess Bride instead of dressed up in our Fetish Finery getting all Freaky...<div> <br></div><div>The rest of the long weekend was pretty uneventful, and nothing exciting continues to happen.</div><div><br></div><div>Except I got all of my hair cut off yesterday, I guess that's kind of exciting... it's now just above chin length, and I've got some cute little bangs to go with it. I'm still getting used to it.</div> <div><br></div><div>Now if you don't mind, I'm going to down some hot lemon and dayquil and take a nap...</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-2314038410565559192010-10-08T11:26:00.000-04:002010-10-08T11:27:08.791-04:00Nothing beats...Sleepy Morning Sex and quiet orgasms whispering "I Love You" Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-19042500775814015062010-10-07T20:00:00.000-04:002010-10-07T20:01:19.692-04:00OMGI've completely abandoned you all! I'm so sorry everyone, been caught up job hunting, running errands, proofreading fanfiction and trying to convince myself that afternoon naps just really aren't needed even though I don't have a job or anything else to do in the afternoons.<div> <br></div><div>To make it up to you, I will post this weekend about the fet event that LD and I are going to tomorrow night.</div><div><br></div><div>I love you all... really, I do!</div><div>RB</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-23664990396091050002010-10-05T10:43:00.001-04:002010-10-05T10:43:39.310-04:00Please leave a message after the beep...I have an interview today, Dear Readers, and nothing exciting has happened since we last spoke, so you're just going to have to deal with a day without content. Sorry luvs! I promise I'll come up with something interesting tomorrow! Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-63582166385661924692010-10-04T12:06:00.001-04:002010-10-04T12:06:36.188-04:00Saturday NightMet up with BR for dinner, and then an local kinky art exhibit that was going on late in to the night. A pleasant time was had by all, including a discussion on my theory as to why my emotional reaction to the events Sunday night with Master were... overblown... Due to some other emotional instability and weird thoughts, I decided to do some research... <div> <br></div><div>Turns out Accutane can have some serious psychological side effects, including depression, suicidal thoughts and 'emotional instability'</div><div><br></div><div>Well that would explain why I've felt PMSy for the last couple of months.</div> <div><br></div><div>Now that I know, I'm trying to make a conscious effort to not let my emotions rule me, or to make any life altering decisions until I'm done the Accutane.</div><div><br></div><div>The price we pay for beauty...</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-58044457705556879212010-10-01T11:35:00.001-04:002010-10-01T11:35:48.769-04:00Time FliesIs it Friday already Dear Readers? I can't believe that time has passed so quickly! I am now at the end of my third week living with LD, and my ... oh god... it's been 1 month and 22 days since I've lost my job. This is a record - I don't think I've ever been unemployed this long in my life.<div> <br></div><div>Maybe I should start slinging coffee again to at least bring in some money...</div><div><br></div><div>Maybe I should try that gold-digger website again...</div><div><br></div><div>Or escorting... I hear that's legal now!</div> <div><br></div><div>In other news, I think I've been blacklisted on LinkedIn for too many connect requests - I have to enter people's e-mail addresses in order to send a request now. Ooopsie!</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-74704904155881216412010-09-30T10:39:00.000-04:002010-09-30T10:46:23.101-04:00They Say I've Got a Face Made for Radio...Ok, that's not entirely true... I've been told I've got a voice for radio "but it'd have to be late night radio, cause it's too sexy for daytime"<div><br></div><div>I'm not sure what to think.</div> <div><br></div><div>This enlightening comment came from my dear younger sister when we were skyping last week. When I repeated the comment to LD, His reaction was along the lines of "It's perfect! Piggy Radio! You can do daily 5 minute recordings and sell them off to whoever will buy them. That's how Perez Hilton started off and it's not like you're lacking in free time at the moment"</div> <div><br></div><div>So I discovered something deeply disturbing about my psyche, Dear Readers.</div><div><br></div><div>You can ask me to piss myself in front of you... you can call me a dirty nasty whore... make me crawl through garbage in a dirty construction site and shout out my depravity for all to hear... all without blinking.</div> <div><br></div><div>Ask me to listen to the playback of a recording I've made, and all of a sudden I'm a blushing virgin.</div><div><br></div><div>I recorded a demo for Sir the other day - the 1st part of my swingers party story from the blog, for lack of better material. After 5 seconds of Him listening, I had to lock myself in the bathroom with the fan on, and busy myself plucking my eyebrows and cleaning the toilet until He was finished. I honestly could not listen to it without feeling complete and utter humiliation.</div> <div><br></div><div>I have no clue why.</div><div><br></div><div>I have no problem recording it! I know how to use my voice to sound sultry and sexy. If you asked me to talk dirty for you in person, I'd be fine with that - and in fact DO often use my voice to good effect in bed.</div> <div><br></div><div>I am a strange, strange girl.</div><div><br></div><div>The other bump in this road, of course, is if anyone would listen and/or pick up my little podcast/radio show. Would you listen to these stories and other rambling thoughts from my brain, if they were available?</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-20436114889665172932010-09-29T13:59:00.001-04:002010-09-29T13:59:44.089-04:00Babies and PuppiesI find them to be pretty interchangeable. Every now and then I see a cute one that I want to crouch down and play with (puppies more than babies), always with the understanding that I can hand it back whenever I get sick/bored/disgusted, and when I'm finished I always feel the need to scrub myself down quite thoroughly (babies more than puppies).<div> <div><br></div><div>In other news, LD and I are getting along quite splendidly... I had a private concert with LD on His keyboard which led to an uncounted (on my part) number of orgasms. I knew that Him playing turned me on, but I didn't realize quite now much. I nearly slid off of the couch - thank god it's leather. </div> </div><div><br></div><div>Who knew - I really AM a perv...</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-34230873008205215132010-09-28T09:51:00.000-04:002010-09-28T09:54:22.246-04:00ClosureI love all of you, Dear Readers, I really honestly do.<div><br></div><div>But please for fucks sake stop telling me I'm being physically abused. Not once, not even in my original emotionally charged post, did I accuse Sir of physical abuse. Him slapping me across the face is NOT an unusual occurrence. In fact, it is generally an activity that is enjoyed by both of us immensely. As I outlined in the last of my posts from yesterday, the main issue was the physical response to Sunday's slaps, and my perceived and remembered happenings of the evening.</div> <div><br></div><div>Sir and I had a long talk last night, and as they say, there are always 3 sides to every story - Her side, His side, and the Truth. I believe that what happened on Sunday lies somewhere between our individual memories.</div> <div><br></div><div>Sir says that He did not slap me any harder than He usually does - in fact He hit me less hard than He normally does. Searching my memories of the evening, the slapping in particular, I do not see Him in my minds eye raising His hand to slap me, or pulling back His arm in any way. This leads me to believe that He is telling the truth about His intentions and force to the blow. My physical reaction to this was entirely unexpected by both of us, and based on previous play could not have been foreseen.</div> <div><br></div><div>Sir also says that He did in fact lay with me for a while afterwards, and then checked in on me again later. I have a vague memory of Him telling me to put my arm around Him afterwards, but no memory of Him actually laying with me, or checking on me. Considering the pain in my head and level of drugs in my system, and what I know of His character, I am inclined to believe that at the very least He did make sure I wasn't in need of an ER visit before leaving.</div> <div><br></div><div>This of course does not change the fact that yesterday I was exceedingly emotionally distraught over my memory and how I had perceived the event taking place. I should not have written the original post prior to being fully awake and medicated, because I think that I unintentionally took a tone that I would not have otherwise. For this I have apologized to my Master, but would like to do so again in this public setting. I did not handle this situation with the grace and poise that I would like to think I am capable of, nor did I remember my place as Your slave and act appropriately.</div> <div><br></div><div>I sought the advice of a trusted friend yesterday, one who knows us both, and she had this advice to offer:</div><div><br></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "><i>he isn't perfect. but you aren't either. you are both human. You both care for each other and have something special going on. i wouldn't put all my upsetness over this one issue. you talked, you wrote it out. he apologized. i think its something to let go of.</i></span></div> <div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "><i><br></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "><i>again, i may not be getting the full picture, but what i am getting...seems like it was one of those human moments for you both. doesn't feel like abuse or someone who has zero regard for your well being. sounds like just one of those humanoid moments that you both felt something different about. you saw green, he saw blue. honestly, it sounds ok.</i></span></div> <div><br></div><div>For those of you who remain concerned, you'll be glad to hear that Sir and I have decided to suspend all face slapping and breath play until Alastair is completely resolved. Obviously my physical reaction to these types of stimulus have become unpredictable and quite serious, and we are both concerned about my health and safety. The look on His face when He discussed how He felt, knowing He had caused that type of pain and disability is indescribable. As you'll recall, we have had an incident early in our relationship involving honesty, and I can tell you all that His emotion and apology are 100% sincere.</div> <div><br></div><div>If you still think that I'm being abused, I invite you to continue to read this blog and remain my friend. If you honestly see any red flags or warning signals, I welcome you to bring your concerns to me. The upshot to all of this is that it has really made me think about consensual slavery versus abuse, and I think that I will be discussing some of these thoughts over the rest of the week.</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-47407511018870299482010-09-27T13:33:00.001-04:002010-09-27T13:33:34.446-04:00Some More Thoughts...I appreciate everyone's personal input to me about abuse and inappropriate reactions. I have a lot of thinking to do, and re-reading my post from earlier I certainly was very emotional still when I wrote it. Some more factual information about the incident:<div> <br></div><div>1) I was in fact disobeying His long-standing request to not cling to Him so hard</div><div>2) Face slapping IS a common occurrence between us, so it's not unusual for that to have been His reaction</div> <div>3) He is human, and humans make mistakes.</div><div><br></div><div>Did He over-react? Yes, even He has admitted that.</div><div><br></div><div>Will He do it again? Only time will tell.</div><div><br></div><div>Could He have chosen a better place to hit me as a reprimand? HELL YES!</div> <div><br></div><div>Did he purposefully physically abuse me? No.</div><div><br></div><div>As Dear Husband has pointed out - discipline isn't supposed to be sexy, and only I can decide if it was abuse or not, and if it's something I can live with, and if so in what way. The migraine issue is what complicates things. If it weren't for the migraine I'd have had nothing to write about. Do I expect a higher standard of attention and care for my safety by putting myself in the position I do with Him? Yes, of course. But He is still human.</div> <div><br></div><div>My plans for tonight have fallen through, so He and I will have a long discussion tonight. I promise all of you, Dear Readers, that I will not just lie down and take it, or accept an apology or situation I'm not comfortable with, just because I carry the label 'slave'.</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-89232011014580983972010-09-27T09:26:00.001-04:002010-09-27T09:26:39.628-04:00Time for a Debate...Which would be better/worse?<div><br></div><div>He had done it on purpose, deliberately... meaning He had been thinking about my head/health and just chose to disregard it</div><div><br></div><div>OR...</div><div><br></div> <div>It was a honest mistake, done without any malice or notice of my head/health?</div><div><br></div><div>On the one hand... if it was deliberate at least He was thinking of my health and could make a conscious choice not to do the same thing again... but it means that this was done out of deliberate anger...</div> <div><br></div><div>On the other hand... if it was an honest mistake, He remains a good person who just did a bad thing without thinking... but what's to stop further mistakes if He's not keeping my health and wellbeing in the forefront of His mind?</div> <div><br></div><div>...</div><div><br></div><div>Discuss...</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-65477548930667936102010-09-27T07:54:00.000-04:002010-09-27T07:55:06.245-04:00AmazingApparently after being specifically told to be quiet in the morning, my silence is deafening and I was told to talk. I told Him exactly how I felt and everything from my previous post, and He agreed that I had a right to feel angry and betrayed, that it wasn't a deliberate and malicious act, that it was an overreaction and that He regrets it and apologizes, and that apparently He did lie with me for a few minutes (not that I noticed through the crying and the pain).<div> <br></div><div>I'm still not sure how to feel. I'm still angry and feeling betrayed, and I made sure He knew that I was not ready to forgive Him. I still feel like this was a horrible abuse of my trust, despite it not being a deliberately cruel act. </div> <div><br></div><div>Of course, every time I think about or discuss or write about this I start crying, which isn't helping the intense pain in my head.</div><div><br></div><div>Luckily, I have a date with a friend tonight, so once He leaves for work I will not see Him until I get home just before bedtime. I think that the distance may do me good, and perhaps it will give Him some time to think about things from my perspective and how He can make things right.</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-82955617516595099632010-09-27T07:23:00.001-04:002010-09-27T07:23:42.571-04:00My Weekend<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "><div>My Dear Readers, I don't know what to do and I am turning to you for advice. I had a... troublesome weekend. Let me weave for you my tale of woe...</div> <div><br></div><div>I had trouble sleeping Saturday night because of Alastair, so I woke up on Sunday in a foul mood. Spent part of Sunday trying to sleep, and when that failed, threw myself in to errands and little projects around the apartment to try and wear myself out enough to sleep. As I'm scrubbing the bathtub with alcohol to fix my botched "attach a hook with caulking to the bathtub wall" project, LD comes in and tells me that I am living with him to relax and heal, and that I shouldn't be wearing myself out - I should go lie down, or sit and read a book, or something similar. Now, this was actually pretty good advice because my head was so bad I was having random dizzy spells, so I went and started to read, but was pretty restless.</div> <div><br></div><div>I made a comment about feeling like a caged tiger, so He decided we should go for a walk, which we did, and it was actually quite enjoyable. Sir plied me with weed as we sat on the rocks overlooking the lake, and managed to make me crack a smile. When we returned, I had another dizzy spell and he put me to bed. Now, before I continue my story, have I mentioned that he's got this pet peeve over when I've got my arms around his neck and I don't let go right away when he pulls back? No? It's something He's only mentioned recently and I've been trying to be better about it, but I don't always notice right away when He's pulling away.</div> <div><br></div><div>So here we are Sunday afternoon, I'm having a dizzy spell, I'm slightly high, and He's leading me to bed. I'm clinging on to Him for all I'm worth, He's got me tucked in and we're kissing. Suddenly I feel Him pulling away rather hard - I must have not noticed him doing it earlier. I let go and He asks me "What have I told you about not letting go?" I mutter an apology and am starting to explain that I hadn't noticed 'cause I was dizzy and high and kissing Him when he asks me again louder "What have I told you about not letting go?" I dutifully reply "don't do it". "That's right" He says, "don't do it" ... while He's saying that He slaps me and then backhands me across the face. Hard. The vision in my left eye goes dim and blurry (happens sometimes with my migraines when they're bad), the pain explodes in my head, my ears start ringing and I start crying. I curl in to a ball and the only words I'm able to get out are "why the hell couldn't you have hit me anywhere else?" He pulls the covers over me and leaves without a word.</div> <div><br></div><div>Now, even when I've done something wrong and I'm actually being punished, He gives me aftercare and/or first aid... a cool towel for my forehead, some ice for the back of my neck, some cuddles and words of reassurance... something. This time... nothing. This happened around 4:30. I came out of the bedroom at 5, told Him I was taking a sleeping pill and going to bed and He could fend for himself for dinner. His response "that's too bad". I tell Him that my vision is still blurry in my left eye. His response "We should talk about this" I told him I needed some time to cool down or else I'd say things I regretted. Going to bed He comes in for a good night kiss and says "I know that you're angry, but if I were to drop dead of a heart attack tonight, you'd regret not kissing me good night" Which is true, so we kiss. I managed to sleep in 4 hour stretches of time, having to get up for more painkillers every 4 hours. I'm lucky I don't bruise easily, because I've got a job interview today at 11.</div> <div><br></div><div>Reading this over it sounds like he's a horrible wife beater, which really isn't the case. He did however, abuse my trust. He talks about how he wants to keep me safe and would never harm me (different from hurting me) and how He wants above all else for me to heal. And then he goes and ignores all three of those - how hypocritical. My head didn't even hurt this bad when I first came here 2 weeks ago. Though I had an MRI almost a year ago that didn't find any physical signs for the pain, what if whatever it is was too small to see then? What if His lack of care while slapping me, and lack of aftercare caused an aneurysm to burst or something else serious? Obviously the risk of that is low, but the risk is still there with what and the way He did it, and the lack of care afterwards.</div> <div><br></div><div>What hurts the worst His reaction directly afterwards... even more than the slaps. He just left the room and walked away. There are hundreds of other ways He could have punished me - why He chose to slap me there when He knew how badly I was hurting just seems deliberately cruel in a non-sexy way, not to mention an overreaction for my misdeed.</div> <div><br></div><div>I'm glad He and I didn't talk last night because I definitely would have said things I didn't mean, but even typing it all out now is making me cry. I don't know if I'm over-reacting, or under-reacting, or what. Your input is appreciated Dear Readers.</div> </span> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-35585445764361160032010-09-24T14:42:00.001-04:002010-09-24T14:42:33.443-04:00UpdateThe interview that was supposed to be at 3pm has been rescheduled to Monday at 11.<div><br></div><div>sooo... barring any last minute interviews, our final tally for this week is: 2</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-43078454861370498372010-09-24T11:47:00.001-04:002010-09-24T11:47:29.306-04:00FrustrationOn Monday I had 3 Interviews, with Company X, Company Y and Company Z, on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.<div><br></div><div>On Tuesday I went to my interview with Company X. When I got home, there was an e-mail from Company Z telling me they had hired a candidate from Monday's interviews and no longer wished to see me on Thursday.</div> <div><br></div><div>An hour later, the recruiter for Company Y told me that the client (Company Y) wasn't doing interviews on Wednesday for my position, they were interviewing for other positions that day and she would keep me posted about the rescheduling of my interview.</div> <div><br></div><div>Tuesday night I had gone from 3 interviews to 1.</div><div><br></div><div>Wednesday I got a call from Company A and did a preliminary screening Wednesday afternoon I got a call back from Company A asking me to come and interview on Friday.</div> <div><br></div><div>Thursday I was messing around on LinkedIn and sent some e-mails to a few people I'd recently added on a whim, asking if they'd consider taking a look at my profile. This morning I had an e-mail from one of them asking for my resume. Half an hour later (at 7am) he asked me to come and interview. Today. This afternoon.</div> <div><br></div><div>As of Friday afternoon, I will have gone from 1 interview to 3.</div><div><br></div><div>As Charlie Brown would say... "good grief"</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-18859820365662393652010-09-23T15:31:00.001-04:002010-09-23T15:35:12.963-04:00Today I have...Baked 120 cookies - Chocolate Chip, Butter Pecan Toffee, Swiss Chocolate with Dark Chocolate Chips & Swiss Chocolate Toffee<div><br /></div><div>Made the Bed</div><div><br /></div><div>Did a load of dishes</div><div><br /></div><div>Dusted all surfaces</div><div><br /></div> <div>Windexed all glass and mirrors</div><div><br /></div><div>Swiffered the floor</div><div><br /></div><div>Mopped the floor</div><div><br /></div><div>Changed the lightbulbs in the bathroom and windexed the bulbs</div><div><br /></div><div>Wiped down all counters and tables</div><div><br /></div><div>Folded and put away the laundry</div><div><br /></div><div>Sectioned and Froze 20 chicken breasts</div><div><br /></div><div>Cleaned the Toilet and Bathtub</div> <div><br /></div><div>Removed and Cleaned the failed attempt at caulking hooks to the bathtub wall</div><div><br /></div><div>Organized and Tidied up my shoes and purses</div><div><br /></div><div>Took out the garbage and recycling</div> <div><br /></div><div>Made a gift for my Sir</div><div><br /></div><div>... It's 3:30... is it time for bed yet?!</div>Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-12472151523250139662010-09-23T13:56:00.001-04:002010-09-23T15:35:12.963-04:00Today I have...Woken up at 4am because of Alastair and been unable to fall back asleep<div><br></div><div>Had a shower organizer fall on my head when the hook I had attached to the shower wall gave way.<br><div><br></div><div>Let the recalcitrant LD get to me as I attempted to get Him awake and out of bed, making me cranky and angry and frustrated at His cruel words (which I know He doesn't mean because He's asleep and doesn't remember saying them)</div> </div><div><br></div><div>Cried because of the first three items on this list</div><div><br></div><div>Made LD late for work due to the cheering-up sex that ensued</div><div><br></div><div>Burnt my index finger on BOTH SIDES while baking cookies</div> <div><br></div><div>Broke a wineglass while washing it, nicking the back of my hand</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>It's only 2pm... the day can only get better, right?</div><div><br></div><div><br></div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-11457590841514801532010-09-22T12:58:00.000-04:002010-09-23T15:35:07.900-04:00My Fun WeekendFriday Sir messages me that He's having a bad day. Luckily, He does this early enough in the day that I can prepare... I hop in the shower, come out and tidy the apartment. I roll a joint and put a glass in the freezer to chill. I put on stockings, over-the-knee boots and a red satin corset. I do my makeup and lay out clothing for Sir to change in to from His work clothing. Dinner goes in the oven and all of the prep work gets done so that I can provide for Sir without delay.<div> <br></div><div>As His key enters the lock, I prostrate myself in the living room. Ass in the air, forehead to the floor. A chuckle. A sign that already the week's stresses are fading away. </div><div><br></div><div> Whiskey is poured. The joint is smoked. The rope comes out. Sir confesses that He has no plan, which is fine by me. I love these spontaneous moments where the focus is on each other, and not a specific 'tie'. My wrists are secured behind my back, and the rope winds around my body, between my legs, between my teeth, immobilizing my head. While my legs are free, I am essentially trapped - a pretty piece of living sculpture. </div> <div><br></div><div>While I have been living with Alastair, my sex drive has been lacking. OK, I lie... my sex drive hasn't, but my ability to orgasm has decreased as Alastair has romped through my head like an ill-behaved toddler at a playground. Since I have been living with LD, this ability and desire has returned. As I sit with my legs spread, trussed up like a Thanksgiving Turkey, Sir turns on the vibrator.</div> <div><br></div><div>At this point, Dear Readers, I can't really describe more... I'm told there were 6 orgasms, and I went to bed with a sore throat, feeling rather hoarse. Somewhere in there I managed to feed Sir dinner. </div> <div><br></div><div>Most importantly though, I improved His mood.</div> Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2681601764642267482.post-44201685008734983872010-09-21T13:34:00.001-04:002010-09-23T15:35:03.844-04:00Alastair and InterviewsI'm sorry to do this to you, Dear Readers, but today is going to be a 'dog ate my homework' post... I've got an interview today and have been busy all day getting ready, and won't be able to post anything of substance. Tomorrow though, and Thursday, the interviews I was supposed to have have been cancelled or delayed *sighs* and so I will have plenty of time to tell you all about the interesting things I got up to this weekend! Rubenesque Brunettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04945192391075379937noreply@blogger.com0