Do You Know What the Coming of the Dragon Means?

Well? Do you?

The Man's copy of Skyrim arrived today - hurrah! I stupidly and rather shamefully failed to get him a birthday present on time this year - I blame my mental health and lack of...oh, bollocks, I just forgot okay? - and got him Skyrim as a late present/make-up gift. Unsurprisingly he's spent most of the day playing it but now claims he "needs a new graphics card" to properly appreciate it. Bless him. I suspect not even a schoolgirl outfit and the promise of oral sex could drag him away from it.

As a consequence though I've had a lot of time to myself, and would love to say I've been productive and all that jazz, but mainly I have been asleep, trying to trounce my horrible chest infection before it really gets started. I want to get rid of it so I can get back to the gym and start getting my body back under control. I don't want to get back to the point I was at where I buried my head in the sand and got fatter and fatter and less and less fit until even I couldn't pretend any more. The modeling shoots I'm doing are really helping me to feel better about myself, as are the wonderful compliments I get on my shots from the delightful perverts on Fetlife. God love 'em! So by next year I'd like to be a couple of stones lighter and a whole lot fitter. I know I can do it - I've done it before and it really can't be that hard. It just takes motivation and desire and at the moment I have desire in spades. Motivation, however...

Part of that motivation has to be that next summer I want to show off my tattoos and my (hopefully healed) navel piercing. At the moment it's giving me some gyp - very red and angry-looking and was discharging a bit this morning, but I've been doing SSS all day (these are sea salt soaks, for the uninitiated) and trying to leave it alone for as much as possible. I never realised how much I touch my belly button or use my stomach for things until I got some metal stuck in it! The bruising is now an ugly yellow but that means it should be gone soon - hooray! - just leaving the redness. Luckily it isn't particularly sore unless I knock it, but when I compare it to my VCH it's certainly a hell of a lot more trouble! It's now about two months (I think!) since I had that one done and it's completely healed and is no trouble at all. The only thing I'd like to do is maybe change it for a longer bar, but even that isn't a particular challenge, and I don't notice it's there 90% of the time. It's a pleasant surprise when I'm getting self-amorous sometimes and ooh! there it is. Saying that I knew the navel was a harder place to heal, particularly for us rather chunkier ladies! Time to get back to the salads (no dissing, I actually really like salad, and used to make the most amazing ones for work when I had a Real Job. Feta cheese and beetroot was one of my faves), and cut down on the takeaways and convenience crap. As a positive shoutout to the universe for my intentions, here's my favourite recipe for a lovely winter soup. 


Spicy Sunset Soup (serves about six ish)

1 smallish butternut squash
2 parsnips
2/3 carrots
2 sweet potatoes
1 regular potato
3 cloves of garlic
1 large white onion
1 litre of vegetable stock (I like Kallo Organic)


Cinnamon
Smoked Paprika
Chili powder (I used mild because I am a wuss)
Cayenne Pepper
Ground Black Pepper
Sea Salt 
Olive Oil


The process itself is piss easy. Peel and chop all the veggies into cubes, with the exception of the onion. Pop them in water to stop them discolouring in the air and taking on a weird flavour. 


Then dice your onion nice and fine. I soften mine in the olive oil with the crushed garlic and a little of the smoked paprika until it's almost browning, then add about a third of the veggies and cook them off with a pinch of each spice and a grind of pepper. After they start to colour or soften around the edges I repeat with some more veggies and then the rest...you get the idea. When they're all starting to soften I add about a third of the stock and cook off for ten minutes or so, or until reduced, then add the rest of the stock bit by bit. When it's all in, cook for 20 minutes or so and taste. This is the point where you add more spice and any salt you need. I rarely add any as I find the stock salty enough as it is. 


When your veggies are soft, you can either leave the soup chunky, perhaps adding some rice or pearl barley for extra filling power, or blend using a hand blender. I usually decant half the soup and blend and then add it back into the main pot to get the best of both worlds. 


Enjoy!

You Don't Need Me, No, Like I Need You

This blog post brought to you by the following music:

• You - The Pretty Reckless
• Hurt - Johnny Cash
• Rest Stop - Matchbox 20

If you want to get a handle on how I've been feeling, check those babies out on YouTube. 

Positive Things

• I have quit smoking. This currently doesn't feel like much of a positive. 
• I did a photo-shoot! Check out the glorious above photo of me!

Negative Things

• I somehow managed to miss a shift at The Shop without even realising I was meant to be in. This has all kicked off into a mega-clusterfuck and I an now, at very least, going to be given a disciplinary. 
• A massive ruckus kicked off at The Pub and, while I wasn't there, a friend was and it resulted in her quitting her job there, so I no longer have her wonderful boobies to sleep on when it's quiet.
• I got sent home from work at The Pub for passing out behind the bar. 
• I have got a vile chest infection, sound like an 80 a day smoker (which I was not!) and feel like I am coughing a lung up. 
• I am having what may be titled 'emotional difficulties', which is perhaps a header for generalised unhappiness regarding my life and situation. Frustration with The Man and his lack of any kind of motivation to do anything, sympathy for me and the fact that I have to deal with said issues on top of everything else I generally have to deal with, plus cabin fever and a desperate need to get away from Leeds and from everything in it for a few days and just hide somewhere warm and safe and free from my Mother, The Man, The Jobs, The Lack of a Decent House...all of it. 
• My poor cat got run over and left to die =( This is easily the most gutting thing. I love my animals so much, and poor Binky had a rough start. He was so wild when we got him that he wouldn't let anyone near him but we won him round. I miss him already. 

Things

They're not positive, they're not negative. They're just things.

• I got my belly button pierced! Wooo. It is currently inflamed and itchy and annoying. However not very painful which bodes well for the potential nipple piercings (still not sure about them) and ear lobes which I hope to get done in the near future. 

All in all it's been a really shitty week and I have learned a couple of things. The best one is that your friends are the people who are there for you when you're being really emo about a Man at 1am. I guess one of the hardest things about being Poly is that sometimes you encounter someone who isn't poly in the circle of your love life. This makes life hard. I have some shit to sort out, I think. Currently I feel very much like a third wheel or a dirty secret, and I am not and will not be that. I don't like feeling second-rate and, even worse, I don't like feeling unwanted or pushed aside. I entered into polyamory to open myself to more love and affection, not to feel like someone's bit on the side. 


Next week *will* be better.


Please god, let next week be better.


 

Trust

Love is a difficult thing. You can never see it coming - it's like a cyclist on the pavement after dark. You don't know it's there until it's already hit you. And, like the cyclist, sometimes it leaves permanent marks.

I find it very hard to trust people; weirdly, the more I love them, the harder it is to let them in, to trust them with something so intense as my actual self. I want to trust them. I yearn to be able to just...feel things without constant fear of betrayal or abandonment or anything else. I don't know why I am how I am - daddy issues, problems with previous relationships, it can't be that hard to work out...but I want to not be like that. I want to be that happy, confident, sexy woman who can love and trust and all of that without wondering if the person they love is just with them because they are good at making tea, or something equally dumb.

This is all far too serious! But actually...it is serious. And I don't really know what to say.

Daddy's Home - Erotica

When he kissed me goodbye that morning I knew I was going to be horny all day. He held me, one hand gripping my hair, the other around my throat, and kissed me hard.
"Be good for Daddy, princess. Keep your hands away from your pussy, baby. I want to be the only one to make you cum today." he told me, and I nodded, smiling up at him from the bed. He looked so fucking good in his work suit, and the smell of him was intoxicating. Even after he left his aftershave clung to me and was just enough to make me want to slide my hand into my underwear and stroke my wetness...I was going to miss him today but tonight would make it all worthwhile.

I read my book, watched some TV...but I couldn't settle. All I could think of was him, his warm hands all over me, stroking me, bringing me to the edge of orgasm and then denial and teasing. Or perhaps his tongue exploring my soft, rose-pink womanhood and savouring my taste, so that when he kissed me I could taste myself on his lips. Oh fuck, he made me so wet! I tried to waste time, did some washing up, alphabetised some books. Eventually I decided to have a soak in the bath - I wanted to be perfect for him when he got home.

I perched on the side of the bath as the steaming water cascaded into it, mixing with the jasmine and patchouli bath essence, creating elegant mountain ranges of crystal white foam. The scent washed over me, sensual and soothing and my mind drifted off for a moment. The bath filled and I slipped my robe off and slipped naked into the steaming water. I soaked for a while, barely even thinking, as my muscles slowly, slowly relaxed and the tension drained out of me. I massaged my left shoulder with my right hand then swapped, the bath essence lubricating, leaving my skin as soft as silk. My full breasts glistened as I caressed them with salt scrub, gently smoothing my skin even further. My body wasn't perfect but I liked to make the effort for Daddy, knowing how much he loved to stroke me. So I shaved, scrubbed and smoothed myself, washed my hair - for him.

I dried myself, fixed my hair and lay out the underwear set I had chosen for tonight - creamy silk with white polka dots, a combination of vintage glamour, which I love, and with the hints of lace it had a little taste of innocence...just sweet enough for Daddy. I still had an hour before he got home. I lay back.

Surely he'd never know. I ran my fingers over my naked flesh, my skin tingling. I felt my wetness getting more intense and my explorations took me closer and closer to my pussy. They rested over my freshly-shaved pubic mound, soft and inviting. He wouldn't know. With one easy, gentle movement I pressed my fingertip between my lips, stroking my clit. Oh fuck, it felt so good. I stroked a little more firmly; I shivered with pleasure and kept stroking, pressing down, making tiny circles around my clit, my own wetness enough to slicken my fingers. I arched my hips into my own hand, dipping my middle finger into my tight cunt over and over. I could feel my muscles tense, my breath coming faster and harder now and little yelps and groans of animal lust ripped from my lips. Ohh fuck. Fuck! Oh god yes! I couldn't help myself. I came hard, flooding my hand and the towels ruffled under me.

I lay, spent for a moment, on Daddy's bed. My eyes half closed. My muscles relaxed. Oh fuck that was good. But one look at the clock told me I couldn't afford to relax too much. I got up, slipped into the underwear I had chosen and drew on a pair of silk hold-ups in matching cream. Then came a little tea-dress in black and ivory checks. Simple, understated. But short enough that Daddy would be able to see my panties if I bent over...a tantalising glance for him. Five minutes to go. I lay on the bed on my front, and began reading my book as if there was nothing at all going on...and within minutes I heard his key scrape in the lock, the door open, then close, and his footsteps in the hall. Then he was there, smiling at me and looking so good...mmm. He came and sat on the bed next to me, his hands immediately reaching under my skirt to stroke my arse through the silky fabric.

"Hey baby girl. You look so pretty!" He tilted my head up and kissed my lips and I sighed with happiness. "So have you been good?"

I smiled right back and nodded, "mmhm, I've been reading Daddy." I sat up, kissed him again and held his hand. He brought it to his lips, as if to kiss but - he paused, and inhaled deeply.

"Princess...are you lying to Daddy?"Oh shit. My hand. My pussy...that he loves to taste...my eyes went wide with shock.

"Oh...Daddy..." I paused. For a moment I didn't know what to say. Then I hung my head. "I'm sorry Daddy. I...I played with myself. I came, too. But I was only thinking of you!"

He looked hard at me, then his hand darted out and grabbed me by the throat. "Princess, what did Daddy tell you? I'm sure I told you that I wanted to be the only one to make you cum today. And what have you done? Little bitch!" He slapped me hard and I reeled. My eyes filled with tears as he looked at me, a mixture of disappointment and arousal written on his face. "Now you know I am going to have to punish you, baby girl. You have been a very naughty slut, and Daddy doesn't like a badly behaved girl. Now get up and bend over that desk, and I don't want to hear a single word about it."

I knew I was in real trouble, but part of me was drunk with arousal. I stood, walked across the room and bent, knowing he would be looking at my ass...wanting me. I closed my eyes and heard him come up behind me, felt his hand stroke my tender skin and slip between my thighs to tease my cunt.

"So wet, baby. But this is a punishment" and without another word his hand was raised and came slamming down onto my arse and I yelped with pain and surprise. There was the briefest pause and then slap! onto the other side, the stinging pain making me jump again. I gritted my teeth, determined to take my punishment like a good girl and redeem myself, but his hand kept coming down, smack after smack and I began to whimper, then to cry out over and over again, the pain now so close to pleasure that I could hardly stand it. I lost count of the blows but it seemed to go on forever and my heart pounded. Eventually he stopped, and I dared to raise my head. I saw him pick something up and then a split second later - thwack! My head reeled as I realised that he had picked up my hairbrush and was using it as a paddle...again, again, again. Fuck! My cries became screams and I sobbed in pain and pleasure, the agony close to pushing me over into orgasm and then the brush dropped to the ground, I heard a brief rustle before Daddy was close behind me, thrusting his hard cock into my poor, aching cunt.

"Fuck, you're wet you little whore...you feel fucking good around Daddy's cock!" His words made my head spin, my pussy tighten around him and I could barely breathe, it felt so good. His thrusts got deeper and harder, my tender arse so sore that I couldn't help but cry out. His hands were on my hips pulling me back into each thrust and his nails raking my skin. I gripped the desk, my pleasure building higher and higher with each moan from him, each time he called me his whore, his slut, his princess, and I bit my lip to keep my orgasm at bay until I felt him shake and convulse inside me, filling my cunt with his cum - and I let myself go, my cries of pleasure almost like those of pain.

He withdrew, leaving me with my skirt up around my waist and his cum drenching my thighs. For a moment I thought he was going to punish me again, but he stood me up and drew me into his chest, holding me tight and I realised I was sobbing with pain/pleasure. He picked me up like a rag doll and sat on the bed with me in his lap, stroking my poor, bruised arse and kissing my hair.

"Poor baby...shh, don't cry. Daddy's home now."

Honesty is the Best Policy

I really think that, no matter what kind of relationship you are in, honesty is the one thing that you can't miss out. To me, part of real love is being honest with the other party. And I don't just mean romantic love, the kind you share with a partner, but friend-love and even familial love. How can someone think that lying is any form of protection? 

"I lied to you so that you wouldn't get hurt".

What kind of bollocks is that? 

Lies aren't suits of armour, they aren't swords or shields or lances or rayguns or any other kind of protective device. And I think that honesty is even more important for those of us who are polyamorous. So much of what brings me to poly is that I am free to love many people and to be honest about my feelings for them and for my other partners. I don't have to hide them. But I forget sometimes that not all people have the same views and attitudes as me, and sometimes people lie to themselves too.

*sigh*

Anyway. It's nearly five weeks since I had my VCH piercing! It looks fabulous but I think I am going to need a longer bar for it, as the bottom ball does tend to hide underneath my hood rather than resting on my clit. That's easy enough done, though. I've seen some nice ones on ebay and on a couple of body-piercing websites and am currently preferring a titanium and pearl one or a green titanium one. I can't quite find the perfect one, but I will. It's made me think about body piercing again and I am thinking my next one(s) will either be my 1.6mm lobes or both my nipples. The Man still hasn't got his finger out to finish translating my forearm tattoos but that's okay because I haven't really worked out exactly what I want yet. I'm also considering a Latin piece for my upper thigh, a translation of Snow White and Rose Red, with some sort of stuff around it, but again that one's still up in the air. Maybe I should actually get someone who's good at art to help?

The Princess's Heart - A Poly Love Story

Once upon a time, in a land far from here, lived a beautiful Kitten Princess. Her hair was dark as midnight and her eyes were as grey as the winter waves, and her tail and ears were as soft as silk. She was a happy Princess until one day, when she was still young and more than a little naive, she met an Ogre, disguised by magic as a handsome Prince. He told the beautiful Princess that he loved her, and that she was the most wonderful Kitten the world had ever seen. She gave her heart to him and the Ogre Prince took it and put it in a golden box and locked that inside a great iron chest, and he wore the key around his neck always. And now he had her heart the Prince began to let his glamours slip. At first the Princess noticed his voice changing from adoring to derisive, and then his green eyes turned black, until finally she was able to see him for what he was. But still the Princess loved him, for he had her heart. 

When the Ogre told her that she was unworthy, she accepted that it must be so. When he told her that her body was flawed and her fur coarse, she knew it must be so, for the man who held her heart was telling her so. And the Princess became sad and lonely living in the Ogre's high tower, imprisoned by her own heart. Each day she walked in the Ogre's tangled garden, tending the wild dog-roses which could not help but bloom under her care. Until one night she could not find the Ogre-Prince she so adored, and she searched high and low for him throughout the tower. Her footsteps echoed up staircases and down hallways and still she could not find him. Her search eventually carried her along one corridor she had never ventured down before: she had reached the door of his private laboratory, marked with sigils and signs she didn't understand. She knew she should not enter, but so driven by her love for him was she that she pressed on and opened the door. Inside, she foundher best beloved seated at a desk, and on the desk were two near-identical boxes: the Princess recognised them at once. One contained her own heart, and the other contained the heart of another. The Princess cried out in shock and the Ogre roared at her presence and with his massive hands ripped apart the box of her heart and, raising it high above his head, cast it down onto the cold stone floor and it shattered into five pieces and the poor, beautiful Princess screamed in agony and despair and, gathering up the shards, ran from the high tower. The rough stones tore her feet and the wild roses she nurtured so carefully tore her gown and she ran blinded by her tears and pain until, exhausted, she could run no more.

The Princess wandered the world. Her lustrous fur dulled and her skin paled and she became even more depressed, lonely and despairing. She found a small cave and curled up in it, guarding the pieces of her shattered heart, taking neither food nor drink. One day her gnawing thirst broke her, and the Kitten Princess left her cave to venture into the nearest town, to see about getting herself some milk. She buried her heart inside the remains of her silken gown at the back of her cave and, with much trepidation, walked away from it.

The poor Kitten who walked into the town could barely be recognised as the same lovely creature who had become the Ogre's lover. Instead of silk and satin she wore rough homespun cloth and her hair was ragged. But the greatest change was in her eyes: instead of joy now they held only fear. She cowered and hunched and when she glanced up and met the eyes of the lad in the dairy she was unprepared. His eyes were the colour of the bluest summer skies and his skin was white as the milk he poured for her. Deep within the Princess something stirred, something carnal and crimson-dark and she felt she could hardly breathe. Each day for a month she returned, and each day he sent her away with her breath caught in her throat and she would creep back to her cave and there she stroked and scratched and gasped until the carnal thing inside her was sated. But soon it was not enough. Leaving her poor, shattered heart buried under a cairn of ocean-polished stones she left her cave, her safe place, one last time. 

That night she gave her body to the beautiful man. He took her to heights of pleasure so intense that she sobbed and in return she pleased him, teased him and drew his passion from him again and again. And when they lay entwined in the darkness he told her he would never fully love her, not with all his heart, and would never ask for hers. The Princess sighed with contentment and knew her heart was safe. Years passed and slowly, very slowly, the Princess began to heal. 

Each time the Beautiful Man took another woman to his bed she smiled and reminded herself that he did not love her wholly, and could not break her heart. But, unknown to the Princess, the beautiful man had crept, quiet as the grave, to the cave by the sea and there, under the cairn of polished stones he found her heart in its silken shroud. He returned with it to his humble rooms and lay it on her pillow and when she awoke he was there, smiling. The kitten Princess looked at him with horror, but again he smiled and kissed her softly. His nimble fingers unwrapped the shards of her heart and the Princess gasped, for it was almost whole! One shard remained. The Beautiful Man took it in his and and drove it into his own chest and his blood ran scarlet over his white skin to drip onto her heart and they were forever one, joined by something stronger than iron. 

Once again the Princess flourished; her hair glistened and the curves of her lush figure filled once more and she was happy but for one thing. Her heart was not whole. The shard taken by the Beautiful Man had left a hole inside her and she felt its absence, burning within her.

But she was at least content: he was a good man. Their life was decent, and there was no doubt that he did care for her, but still something was missing. Some days she went down to the beach and cave which had been her home and bathed in the clear sea, the waves quieting her restive heart. But she was not alone. One day a Handsome Scholar chanced upon the Princess while she bathed, and he saw her beauty and admired her form. When she rose, the water cascading from her like liquid crystal, he felt as though the world had, for a moment, held its breath. She turned, and upon seeing him she was struck still as if she was made of stone. Gathering himself, he approached, slowly, so as not to frighten her away. She did not move. He reached out a hand and stroked her beautiful hair and the Princess felt herself melt under his touch. But she thought of the Beautiful Man and she froze; she would not betray him as she had been betrayed before. She fled from the Handsome Scholar and that night sobbingly confessed to the Beautiful Man. But to her surprise the Beautiful Man simply smiled at her and kissed away her tears and told her that she would always be his, but her love was also her own to give, and that she could give as much as she wished.

So comforted, the beautiful Kitten Princess sought out the Handsome Scholar until she was lost in the twists and turns of a strange town. Just when she began to shiver and fear began to grip her a warm hand stroked her pale face and she spun, scared, ready to flee from this new terror...but the Handsome Scholar smiled and drew her into his arms and embraced her, and she felt his heart pulse against her and she sighed, relieved. And so, the Princess and the Scholar retired to his Study. He caressed her, stroked her fur, kissed each inch of her flesh and brought pleasure to her in waves as strong as the ocean. And when they lay together, his arms tight around her, he vowed to protect her, to love her, and to discipline her when she forgot to love herself. She gave him her love, strung from a silver chain, a token he wore with pride, but he wanted to give her a gift, one which would be with her always. And so he reached inside himself and gave her a shard of his own heart, placing it within her, and the Princess thought of the Beautiful Man and the Handsome Scholar and wept with happiness, for at last she was whole.

Friendship - What a Con!

Well what a bloody waste of energy. Why some people think it's okay to ditch their friends when something better comes along is completely beyond me - but then it always has been. I have always been the one who is left standing going 'hang on a minute, what's the deal here?'. 


Sad times.