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| I am looking for a Dominant male who will cherish me, tease me, hold me and let me be all that I can be (do i salute at this point?) I am looking for a long-term relationship. I am simply delightful (and quite humble) easily approached. Intelligence and humor are what will get my attention, not cheesy lines and come ons.
I feel such a void not having someone to focus on, to shop for, to think about, to plan for, to look forward to seeing, to cherish, to care for, to serve, to please, talk with, laugh with. My life is not complete for I have no one to give to and I have so much to give.
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Dear Journal:
I am afraid I have not been searching with any great effort as I have become so focused in my other pursuits. I am now involved, besides my music and writing in life coaching. Polishing up the gem I am to be presented at a future date to a treasure hunter. Perhaps one like Indiana Jones with a cool hat and a whips and sharp knives. |
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Dear Journal:
I throw myself even more into my music. It isn't as gratifying as warm arms but the search just takes so much energy. So, perhaps I am in a time of metamorphysis--growing into the person that can best please the man I am yet to meet. I wonder if he is a guitar pickin, keyboard bangin, bongo playin singer in need of a soul mate. Knowing bongo rhythms can come in handy sometimes! bongo-bongo! |
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Dear Journal:
I just can't get naked and let someone hit me anymore. Years ago when I was young and lustful I could. Apparently I need to be woo'd. I know I'm a masochist but it's got all tied up with being submissive and I can't seem to separate one from the other. I can't submit casually either. My oh My, what a conundrum! |
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Dear Journal:
My feet are freezing. I don't know how to light the pilot light on my furnace and keep forgetting to call. I have found borderline frostbite greatly decreases sexual urges. Any kind of urge actually, other than standing in a hot shower and slipping into a warm bed with my stuffed moose. Moosie came to me last week when I had a cold. He doesn't snore, and no morning breath but he still isn't quite the same as a human type nitetime companion. |
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Dear Journal:
I had thoughts of giving it all up and becoming vanilla. Only problem is, I have no idea how to be vanilla. I'm pretty sure I would be pretty rotten at it. So, they were just passing thoughts. It's been a year since I've felt the sting of a cane or lovely welts on my abundant backside. I've tried caning myself, and well, it just isn't the same. I suppose I will go to sleep and dream sweet dreams of capture, torture, domination and sexual use. ..sigh..you know, one of those GOOD dreams! |
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Dear Journal:
Between learning keyboard, bongos and guitar my shoulder is really sore. I came home tonite after rehearsal and used the Hitachi Magic Wand on my shoulder. Never occured to me to actually use it on MUSCLES before. It really worked well. I usually apply the 6000 rpms to other parts, which of course I did after I got some relief from sore muscles. Its about time to buy a new one. I already wore out the 5000 rpm low gear and its beginning to sound like a tractor. |
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Dear Journal:
It was a boob day today. It happens sometimes. Everywhere I look, I see boobs. I try not to look but its just impossible. I wonder what the nipples look like. Sometimes I get caught looking. There are a lot of beautiful woman with very full breasts in the world. At least it wasn't a crotch day. Those can be really embarrassing! I'll probably settle down tomorrow. These days come and go. |
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Dear Journal:
Stayed up much to late last night and thought to myself, why not! I have no one to account to now. Finally, looking at my lame fish named sushi, I decided it was time to put myself to bed. I shut off my computer and felt the loss of not writing my nightly email to a Master. Slipping into bed without tying my ankles because there was no longer any instruction, I hugged a pillow instead of his t-shirt and drifted off to sleep dreaming of gallant knights with shining armor and firm hands and ready quirts.
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Dear Journal:
It was a long hard day today. I came home, stripped and lay in front of the fan grabbing my favorite vibe. Sometimes it's the best way to relief stress. It wasn't doing the job though, I was frustrated so I grabbed the zipper..waiting for just the right moment to rip it off. I feel so much better now. Quite relaxed. |
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Dear Journal,
Having no luck finding a dominant, I topped a nice fellow. Using my favorite whip I scourged him, leaving beautiful welts on his back in a marvelous criss-cross design. How I wished it was my back! |
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| Age: 44 |
| Lost City,
Florida |
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