On Matters of Mastering My Bottom

When I was a girl, I was very timid. People took advantage of my giving and gullible nature. Frequently. I was always getting humiliated. My feelings hurt. It turned me into a very quiet, withdrawn person. I never went out, hung out with friends, never had a boyfriend. I was a loner, and when someone showered attention on me, I sapped it up like a sponge, opening myself to being hurt again.

Then, my family life went to shit. In an act of self-preservation, my mother left and alcoholic husband, and three children behind. I was 15 at the time, and I told her to go as I knew she was only staying behind because of us. So, my mother moved out, leaving her children with an alcoholic father. It was decision she feels guilty for this very day.

Being left with an alcoholic father made me grow up quickly. He would go off on his drunken tours, being gone for days at a time. I would maintain a house, cooking, cleaning, laundry, making sure my brothers went to school. I didn't live the life of a normal teenager. I became hard. Angry. Untrusting. I was in control of my life, and God forbid anyone try to take that away. I witnessed firsthand what happens to a woman who gives up control of her life for a man.

Fast forward to now. To say my past experiences have forever shaded my life would be an understatement. I'm not submissive in any aspect of my life (that very thing goes against everything of what a Good Mormon Girl should be). I don't back down from a confrontation. I won't be taken advantage of. I won't be played a fool.

Naturally, my personal relationships have suffered as a result.

I'm a master in the truest sense of the word. I didn't know how to give up control, and if I did, would I be willing to?

Not seriously entertaining this question, I've never delved into dominance and submission in terms of intimacy. The guy got his, I got mine, and the world lived happily every after. But even after having sex, I would lay there, feeling empty. Like eating a rice cake. It was something to do, but in the end, not very satisfying. Something was missing. Something big.

I started to tap into my dominance in the bedroom, and I enjoyed it for a short while, but in the end, it was just another facet of my life that I governed. Being large and in charge grows tedious, and I found myself just wanting to give up the reins in some area, even if was just for a short while.

Then, I met The Boy, who was as completely open to trying new things as I was. The more we communicated, the more open we became with our desires. My need to submit fell in line with his need to dominate. I found that I trusted him enough to want to give him control. That has never happened before.

The first time he tried to dominate, it was almost comical. There are different ways to approach it, and I guess we started off on the wrong one. It turns out, breaking my habit for complete control is like breaking the spirit of a wild animal. There are two ways to go about it. You can either strong-hand it into submission, or you can gain their trust and coax it out. It would appear that I fall into the latter category as a strong will is going to meet the business end of mine.

I want to submit everything to him. I want to please him. I want to make him happy. I want him to know that he is the planet that my moon rotates around...and in return, I just want to know that he's going to be my guardian for the time, recognize me for the Goddess I am. I want to be his little slut, and I want him secure in the knowledge that he's the only one I do it for. I want him to leave his mark on my body. The last time, it was his hand print on my chest where he held too on too tightly (fair-skinned people bruise easily) and I wore it like a brand. I was his, and he owned me. I want to worship him for the magnificent creature he is because I really think he has no idea.

I want him to own me, but not in a degrading way. I want it to be because we are both insanely eager to please each other. I want him to calmly and sweetly approach me like a wild gelding, with gentle kisses and caresses and soft words. And when he's won my trust, I want him to ride me hard in the manner I was made for. I want him to break me, but only because I want to be broken, and it pleases us both. And when we are finished, completely spent and out of breath, their will be no emptiness, but rather being full of the satisfaction that we have gone to the edge, and held nothing back.

Now that we have figured this out, we have yet to test the waters.

Someday soon, I hope.

Out of the Woodwork

I have a Facebook page, and I have a lot of friends. I'm not one of those people who add everyone with the goal of having the most friends of anyone else on Facebook. No, almost all of my friends are people I know. People I went to church with. People I work with. People I went to school with: elementary, junior, high, college. People who blog. People who I know through gaming online. Close friends. Guys I have dated.

My church is big into networking, and it rubbed off on me. I like that I almost always know someone, who knows someone. That's how I get shit done with the least amount of effort. Work smarter, not harder.

With the changing of Facebook, they added these annoying little quizzes. Usually, I ignore them because I don't care what color crayon you are. I don't care if you should be living in Ireland but you never will because you are stuck in the Midwest the same way I am. Which 80's singer are you? Nope, don't care about that one either.

Occasionally, one quiz will catch my eye and I will do it. The outcome will usually be stupid, and I delete the quiz. One such quiz was "What Sexual Position Are You?"

To answer honestly, they all are. BUT, for the sake of the quiz, I took and ended up with doggie. I'm a lot more sexually outgoing than that, so I was a little dismayed it wasn't something more spicy, like say, the wheel barrel or the reverse cowgirl. It occurred to me that whoever created the quiz might have just had two possible outcomes: missionary and doggie. Lame!

So, I took the quiz, and the result was posted (which I immediately deleted). The next day, I get a message from one of my Facebook friends. A guy I went to high school with. He alludes to my quiz result and speculates that I'm good in bed.

Mind you, I never dated this guy. We merely hung out with the same people. He had never made an attempt to communicate with me until now.

I respond in a vague affirmative, which probably was my mistake because the next time I was online, he pops up in chat and wants details. Then he brags about how great his dick is and how I would like it. I tell him that it takes a lot more than an impressive dick to seduce me.

He tells me that is not what he's looking to do. He just wants a fuck buddy. That same night.

Hmmm...so he doesn't want to get me turned on. He just wants to lay some pipe for the evening because no one else is available. Hit it and quit it. Wham bam, thank you, ma'am.

This tells me that as a lover, he's not concerned with his partner getting hers. This tells me that he's the kind of guy who's governed by his penis. This also tells me that he sucks in bed.

I'm insulted.

Really! Taking one dumb Facebook quiz on sex doesn't mean you are open and accepting all offers on sex. Especially from a guy who you haven't talked to in almost 20 years. I was a virgin until after I graduated high school, so it's not like I had a reputation back then.

Are you kidding me?

I told him to go fuck himself.

Allow Myself to Introduce Myself

There are some key things about me that I think you should know.

I'm single. I love sex and everything about it. I'm a Mormon.

While parts one and two are unremarkable in this day and age, the third piece sort of cancels the first two out as within the church, good single girls should not be even thinking about sex. In the grand tradition of my church, I should have been married and popped out at least for kids by my 34th birthday. Also in the grand tradition of the church, I'd also be depressed, popping Prozac like breath mints. My only socialization would be with other members of the church. My blog would be a mommy blog filled with mountains of pictures of my incredibly blessed and vanilla life, helpful pointers of a harried homemaker, and dissections of the inspiring and spirit-filled talks and lessons I had heard that Sunday.

Obviously, this is not my life.

Never married. No kids. I have a career. I am financially independent. I own my own home. In a church full of what others refer to as a "peculiar people", I'm the oddball.

So rather than face the disapproving looks of the matronly women in Relief Society by my mere singleness, I just stopped going. However, some habits die hard, and I still refer to myself as a member of the church, much in the same way someone who hasn't been to mass since they were a child still refers to themselves as Catholic.

I'm also a big fan of sex and all things related. I've read countless books. Researched. Joined message boards. Even tried out a website once. Sensuality. Eroticism. Kink. Whatever fetish you can think of, I'm sure I've read up on it just to satiate my curiosity. My heroes are Dr. Ruth and Sue Johannson. I want their jobs. I've been in relationships and had sex. I've had relationships that were sex-based.

I've decided to stop fighting the sexual beast within and embrace it. Excommunication be damned.

This is my journey.