I have yet to decide on posting my journal entries regarding the experience.
I have, however, decided to go through all of my journal entries from when I entered the lifestyle and post them on this blog, editing where necessary, to the anonymity of the not so innocent.
In doing this and moving forward, I remind myself of the following:
~Courtesy, being nice, and making sure I am being treated well also, does matter
~Those who want to be around me, will.
~I am worth sticking up for.
Being released frightens me to no end. Even though this relationship is LDR, the service, being a slave, gives reason to my unfulfilled submissive heart. I feel like I have purpose. There is something so very intimate about my service, ritual, and daily devotions.
I take pride in them. I could tell that what I choose in this lifestyle is not her cup of tea.
It has been weeks since I’ve heard from Him. He informed me of ________, which I know is not replacing me, just an addition. It does make me wonder about the money.
But if it is not working for me, do I have the courage to walk away and take time for me?
I noticed I was babbling about my insecurities of things ending again. Her eyes started to glaze over. Always a clear sign I was babbling… I’m really feeling anxious that I shared too much of my heart.
Before I finished, I said I think that I would take a break from the lifestyle for a while, If released.
She told me no one would fault me for it, and she would be able to take over and fill LS needs for a bottom while I sorted things out.
I found that statement odd, not really sure what to do with it, or how to feel about it. I didn’t know what to do so I smiled and apologized for babbling and we moved on to other things to talk about, before I left to go home.
I feel unsettled about everything.
I wish I would not have said anything.
You have amazing orgasms, I make you squirt.
Then you say: ‘We forgot to have the talk’
THEN you tell me No Ass Play and No Anal Sex? AFTER we had sex?
I asked various times if you were okay, how you were doing and you said you were fine. doing good. oooo it felt soooooooooo good.
You never said ‘no, I am not okay.’
From the looks and feel of it, you are very use to a fist or bigger in your ass.
More importantly: You did not safe word.
IT SLID IN.
Without lube, without tearing, without bleeding, and No Safe Word.
Then you say a thumb, smaller than my fist, hurts?
Does this mean a fist is okay but a thumb is a hard limit?
Wanna try again?
Wanna stop the ‘poor me’ Bull Shit and try to communicate a little bit more, TRUTHFULLY?
eh… never mind, brat.