Obama is my Dom

So I don't give a shit how un-Domme-ly it is, but I think, just maybe, I could follow this leader and trust he will do the right thing for me, an non-believer, tax paying citizen.   I too am America.

Medical Kink

I'm ready to stretch and grow in a new direction this year.  Medical play involves needle play, cutting, sounds, saline injections, enemas, examinations and much more .  A nice sterile exam room always makes me wet and mix with the anxiety that something could be wrong with you, I positively get weak in the knees and have to lie back and let the aroma of my sex and anxiety rise in the room.  Oh how I hate when the nurse has to come in and join the examination. 

But I digress into my own fantasies there.  Where was I?  Oh yes, examinations.  Always important when about to stick, probe or cut a piece of flesh. And oh how I love the piercing of flesh.  I love the living skin, how it responds to the rendering of itself, anxiously trying to regroup the cells and heal itself.  Yet bending and giving up easily to your sharp, persistent wrenching.

And I love the smell of blood, not the menstrual kind full of to much iron and dead cells, but the fresh sweet kind that is alive and full of oxygen.  However, I do recall with with glee a fisting of a young lady in the midst of her menstrual flow and I know for her it was therapeutic.  I think of menstrual sex that way as well, medicinal, and when I say to my lover "now shut up and fuck me hard!"  he knows I need a shot from Dr. Feel Good. 

So now where were we?  Oh yes the noisy white paper under my ass, shifting and shouting under each flex of my ass muscles... 

New Year Sobriety

I owe my sobriety to the first leather event of the year, a funeral for a fine woman I knew in the lifestyle.  We were a mix of people sitting in the pews, leather folks, the AA community and her extensive family.  Hearing her friends share her life from their perspective revealed a common experience:  her character was defined by her spoken word, her work to support fellow alcoholics and a living example of a polyamorous submissive, working to make her family a welcoming place for family and friends, especially hungry ones who appreciated her fine cooking. 

And she was one of the lucky ones, who lived mostly 'out' in her lifestyle choices.  The program leaflet identified her community of friends in the leather lifestyle which easily represented a third of the mourners in attendance.  With family members present, I made my condolences to her mother, who connected the stories of the corsets her daughter made for me.  

This was my first leather funeral and I couldn't help but put myself in the coffin and in the picture on the cover of the program, and listen to the words of my friends who knew me well.  I wondered who would attend and speak on missing my life and what it represented to them? 

Her final gift to me, was to reflect on the past year and to look forward to what I wanted or will do differently this year.  I typically look at life from the lessons learned and opportunities still ahead.  In my leather life that means:

 Less floggers and more medical supplies

 Less corsets (I have twelve) and more books

 Less fetish balls and more leather conferences 

 Less hanging out and more mentoring 

 Less focus on what I don't believe (I'm an Atheist) and more on what I do

 believe (Hedonist).

I am thankful for so many things and much less afraid of the future, despite the economy and our black social conservative president-elect.  And I will strive to live each day in more honest love. 

Happy New Year

Serene