Cloud Nine

She knows the things I Dream of,

The places that I've been,

She accepts the person I've become,

She's a very special friend.

She's always been there for me

No matter where I roam,

And whenever we're together

It’s just like being home.

(I don’t know who wrote that poem, but I found it, and it is exactly how I feel)

Shan is my cloud nine, and the reason being is because when I am with her, talking to her, around her, or even a text message from her she keeps me elated and smiling. The stupid shiz we talk about, always brings a smile to my face. Even when she is down, or when I am, we can always make each other smile and laugh.

Through all my lonely days, I have been able to confide in Shan. My hopes, and my dreams, my sadness and fears. She has been there, listening to me, and providing me with guidance as a very special consult. I do my best to listen to her, and give advice in the most unbiased manner, but the moment someone hurts my Cloud Nine, is when I get all pissed and choke a hoe.

Soon I will be in Florida, and I am taking Shan with my to Miami Bish….Where we are gonna be heartbreakers, as we cruise the streets shopping, and all the men are wanting to get their hands on us….but sorry boys…We are taken!!!! Damn woman, how can I need any other friends…when you’re the best friend I have, and need.

Truth is, when the world walked out on me, Shan never did. She was there when I needed someone. The darkest time of my life, I found my partner in crime. She told me how stupid I was for the stuff I was doing, and she pulled me back to my feet.

In my religion it is said, that we are reborn again into another life, but the souls we have met are ones who always surround us forever in our next lives. My husband this life, could be my dog in my next life…but a soul mate…a soul mate is someone that completes you. You find this soul every time, and it can be your sister, your best friend, your grandmother, your brother…the soul has no gender, only light and connection….Your my soul mate Shan….the other side of me, that makes me complete.

Sure love comes and goes..but a touch of the soul stays with you…and you’re the light to my dark…I Love you….

I can’t wait to be there with you…Find me a pink flamingo for my front lawn, and I will brink that cheap box wine. And we will sit on the beach, and enjoy the sun….I love you woman….NEVER change for anyone…YOUR PERFECT THE WAY YOU ARE…

Lovers your Skye

<3

khaleesi


p.s. yeah yeah the sexy nude pics....doesn't make us lesbians...even though she is the only one female I'd fuck....but truth is...I can lay naked, our arms draped, our legs tied together...and I would be ashamed, or feel awkward..in fact..I would feel more beautiful....more at ease with my feminine side.....Love you Shan Shan my Cloud Nine

How I became known as fire crotch

I was sitting in the hair salon yesterday, getting my hair turned back to blonde. I started to think about my life, as we talked about how long my hair had been dyed. I had red hair, of many shades of red since I was in 6^th grade. I had attempted to go back blonde on my own a few years back, but we didn’t do it right, so my hair came out orange.

I was terrified while at the salon, because I didn’t want my hair coming out orange. I needed it to be a pretty blonde color for certain reasons. However when the woman said the raid pulled orange, I nearly cried. Back in school we had attempted to do auburn, but it came out orange.  As soon as I went to school the next day, I was already being teased.

Apparently younger kids, at least back when I was in school was no adapted to the idea that you can change the color of your hair. I was mocked every day, and the first name given to me was after someone said,

“Did you dye your pubes too?”

And then another kid said….OMG Fire Crotch…..

I didn’t actually dye my pubic hair. If you look at today’s society, children are dyeing their hair. Just yesterday my 9 year old asked me if she could shave her legs. I about had a heart attack. She said her friend at school dyes her hair, and shaves her legs and arm hair. I hate to say it, but that friend of hers is going to have to shave monkey hair legs, because she hadn’t even hit puberty.

Why is it we follow society?  Why do we feel the need to believe that we aren’t normal, if we don’t follow society’s standards?

The truth is, we are conditioned from an early age to be like everyone else. I thought that we wanted to be different? That not being the same was what made us greater, and special?

<3

khaleesi

Even flowers bloom in the dark

 

 

Trag·e·dy

A dramatic composition, often in verse, dealing with a serious or somber theme, typically that of a great person destined through a flaw of character or conflict with some overpowering force, as fate or society, to downfall or destruction.

2.

The branch of the drama that is concerned with this form of composition.

3.

The art and theory of writing and producing tragedies.

4.

Any literary composition, as a novel, dealing with a somber theme carried to a tragic  conclusion.

5.

The tragic  element of drama, of literature generally, or of life.

Often when people sit down, they tend to drift from topic to topic in a conversation. It is how we connect with people, and gather more information to help us cope with our own issues that we deal with on a day to day basis. Sometimes people get into topics of things that have happened to them.

For Example, when on a date, you end up getting that dreaded question….

WHAT HAPPENED WITH YOUR LAST RELATIONSHIP?

This is the question that EVERYONE dreads on a day. Especially a first date…but when you begin talking about it, that’s when they come back with…OMG you have no idea, like this one ex I had…yadda yadda yadda….It is the my horse is bigger than your horse, and it really is a sympathy tactic, and I feel a pathetic attempt to have someone have pity for you.

Now, everyone. And I don’t care how wealthy or poor you are, has had some type of tragic event in their life that has affected them, changed them…it is inevitable…but that doesn’t mean you can go about and play a pawn to your own pity party. It is fine to talk about it, branch out, and get help if you need it. Find others who have had the same tragic like experiences and connect to help each other. It is by far NOT an excuse to use against someone, nor yourself.

Now I am sure that if you are reading this, or have been an avid reader (thank you fans, I love you all) that you have started to see a change, from the beginning of my blog to now. Heck you have even seen me write about one of my own tragedies.

I bring this up only because I used to use that tragic experience, which still greatly affects me, as an excuse for not living my life. Now it isn’t all flowers and rainbows for me. I am not looking for pity either. I was afraid to try new things, branch out in my sexual manners because of my rape. My attitude changed, and for 10 years I let this and a ton of other things eat at my life…

I refuse to let that happen anymore...

WHEN something goes wrong in your life, embrace it…take it for what it is...if its painful feel it...it wont be there forever, and what hurts you, will make you stronger…If it’s a crime, get your justice, and then move on….but. The most important thing...

DON’T for one second believe that your tragic moment is ever greater then someone else’s. No matter how big. Or how small...

It isn’t a competition….this is life. Have compassion!!!! 

Miou's First Need Dance

 [23:53]  ɱɩσʋ ): feels the warm sand beneath her small feet, she drags her foot through the softness ... her fair skin glistening in the sun, her toned legs begin to twirl , the quietness around her allowing her mind to run carefree, she moves her body slowly, turning, her hands fluffing her long, blonde mane, with a flick of her wrist moving her locks to her back, the yellow, silk framing her skin, as she moves gently through white powder.

[00:03]  ɱɩσʋ ): lets her hips sway easily and with no hesitation, her fingers gripping the sides of the soft fabric covering her form, and pulling them out and twistng them as her feet lightly skip through the sand beneath her, a smile plays on her pink lips as she relishes in being young, and having no worries to burden her. The sounds of birds singing and a light wind moving over her form, her attention only on her surroundings.

 [00:13]  ɱɩσʋ ): raises her arms abover her head, her wrists touching as her hips moving sensually, her blue eyes grazing the area around her when she spots a man, and instantly her heart leaps, and her pretty face has a look of confusion, her movements becoming a little more agressive as she moves in the sand, the white powder kicking up a dust around her feet, the flute playing fills her ears, her body curving as her arms float to her sides and caress her abdomen seductively, her blue orbs forcused on the Master, her body moving a little more fiercly, bewildered why she wanted His attention on her.

 [00:23]  ɱɩσʋ ): slides her slender fingers down her sides, down to her upper thighs, clenching the white silk clinging to her, pulling it up to expose more of her creamy skin. Her hips moving seductively. She lets the fabric fall against her as her hands slide over her flat tummy, up to her slightly bouncing orbs, her fingers resting right above her chest. Her body filled with a craving she has never known. She falls to her knees, and in one motion moves her body backwards, allowing her back to rest on the white powder beneath her, her fingers trailing down her body, stopping right above her heat flesh. Her mind filled with desire as her eyes focus solely on Him. As she raises her curves up, her knees still in the sand, opening and closely slowly, her hand sliding right over her womanhood as He watches her.

[00:33]  ɱɩσʋ ): easily rises to her feet, moving in a large circle slowly, her fingers almost tearing at her silks, her feet moving heavily through the sand, her mind filled with lust as her hands absently glide over her frame as her flowing hair wraps around her. Her finger moving over her breasts, touching them seductively. She turns her back to Him, as her fingers trail her skin she lifts the fabric, freeing it from her skin as she moves it upwards, exposing to Him to her firm, round bottom, she then bends over every so slightly showing Him her heat, needing Him to want her. A feeling of need of His touch on her, floods her like a rush of water.

 [00:49]  ɱɩσʋ ): her body overcome with desire, her movements in the sand covering her feet like a cloud. A fire radiating throughtout her entire form. She feels exuding from her flesh. Her fingers removing the fabric from her chest easily as it flutters to the powder below her without any hesitation her fingers tear the rest of the silk from her glistening skin. She feels no relief, her body still heated, in frustration her hips thrust forward, she falls hard on her knees into the white sand, all of her body exposed for Him, she rocks her hips back and forth over and over, as her nails drag along her skin up and down. Her fingers sliding down her creamy thighs as she grinds seductively. Her bare breasts bouncing and swaying with each motion. She is overcome with passion for Him, her hips move back and forth relentlessly. Her heart racing and breathing heavy, her eyes filled with a craving only He can satisfy. She falls helplessly to the sand. Her back resting on her heels, her frame open for His view, her chest moves up and down as her need for Him has overcome her.

So this is my sisters (sister as in best friend) dance..her very very very first time performing a Gorean dance. She was so terrified, and normally I have a girl perform a dance for just me before doing it in front of everyone so she can perfect it first. However I knew Miou could do this on her first try..so I pushed her, because pushing her will make her reach her limits.....and go beyond....soooo lets see what her Master said in response to watching this dance with everyone around.

 [00:53]  Ragnok: the smile left his face after a bit before he stood lifting her over his shoulder and slapping her ass firmly as he headed towards the compound he would look to anvar "I trust you'll be able to handle everything while I'm busy" he said chuckling as he grinned a broad grin at his friend kicking the tavern door open and heading for his furs

So her Master is thinking this:

So, her dance was so lovely, it aroused him, and he carried her off to the furs...he needing her..and she needing him..a beautiful roleplay dance, and story..that I got to watch...

I am so proud of you sis...and to show how proud..this is how proud:

<3

Gyp, Nary, Vala, Skye

When is a 'free' person wrong?

This question comes up all the time. Any person would say a lot of the time. It really depends on the topic, and if the Free person is educated. Truth of the matter is, it is a matter of opinion. If the Free is in a position where they have to morally defend or argue, and their way is wrong, are they really wrong? Maybe to another free they could be, but if you are owned by them, what do you do?

‘Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. What do we do? We swim, swim.”

Dory *Finding Nemo*

I wanted to say that simply because, as a submissive/slave we are not permitted to comment about our owners being wrong. Even if we deep down know they are. ESPECIALLY in the front of other Dominants. If you have a good Master, he might permit you to discuss the situation at a later time, in the privacy of you two alone. However at the time of the event, whether you like it or not, you can’t argue, or say they are wrong.

Now, this is different in the case of abuse. If you are being abused, it is wrong and you should stand up for yourself. Let us see the difference…

Master: The color purple is made with green and brown!

Slave: No Master, its blue and red…

THAT is something you don’t do…The color purple is made with green and brown…you know why. Because your owner says so….

Master: You will go to work, and send me all your money from this paycheck.

Slave:  Master, I have a son that is sick that I have to take care of.

Master: I don’t care, you will send me the money, I don’t care if you starve.

This is where you put your foot down and say you’re wrong, and I ain't doing it.  So in abuse, any Free is wrong…but if it isn’t abuse, then never. Never are they wrong. If your Owner says that the sky is green, then it is so, because it pleases them. If they argue with another Free, leave it alone because it isn’t your place to meddle in the affairs of the free.

No means No...Stop the Rape, Educate

I have heard for a while now from my friends, and emails from my readers that my blog isn’t to personal. This is true, simply because I had deleted everything in it, which was personal. The reason I did this was because most of it was about my old Master, and I just didn’t want to read them anymore. So angrily I deleted them.

I was browsing blogs when I came across this image:

It made me think about it, because it is true in my opinion. As I pondered on the image, I decided I am going to make my blog more me, and more personal again. So this post, as truly hard as it is for me to talk about it, is even harder to type. I know people will judge me for it, but you know what. I am doing my best to cope and move on.  Judge me all you want, your hate comments will go unheard.

When I was growing up, my mother always taught me, never let a man control you, never let a man get you in a bad situation. When you go to parties, make your own drinks, and if you set it down and walk away from it, never come back and drink from it again. Sure my mother’s words are wise. She was only trying to protect me. She loves me after all, she is my mother.

So how does this rule apply when you trust someone?  I was dating a man name Kenneth, at the time and he was away on holiday. I was 17 years old, just about to turn 18, and my friend Amar and Amber were over visiting. We decided to go to my ex’s house (who was my friend) because he was having a party. His name is Jeremiah, but we called him J.D for short.

The whole night he was trying to get me to sleep with him, but I told him no. I had waited 4 years to be with Kenneth, and I wasn’t going to be unfaithful ever. So Amar was off flirting with someone, when Amber and I were sitting on a couch talking to some people. J.D came over and asked if we wanted a drink. Since he was my friend, we accepted and they brought us some alcohol.

Thinking he was my friend, I trusted him and drank the alcohol as did my best friend Amber.  The rest of the night was a huge blur. I don’t remember much. What I do remember, is waking up, to screaming. My best friend was on the floor, her face down in the carpet, as she struggled. A man was behind her, raping her, while another was holding her down.

I started to cry, and when I went to get up I remember feeling that I couldn’t. As I came back to reality, my head throbbing, I soon realized there was someone on top of me. Not only on top of me, but beneath me as well. I struggled as hard as I could, but I couldn’t get away. I screamed as loud as I could, but J.D. who was on top of me smacked me really hard. It busted my lip, and I can still remember the taste of blood in my mouth.

The man beneath me, was raping me too, and had me held to where I couldn’t fight back. I remember crying, and begging them to stop, and I was told a good slut doesn’t fight it, but enjoys it. I could still hear Amber crying, and I looked at her, as she looked at me, the fear she had in her eyes, matched my own. We didn’t know if we would live after this. The men on my friend switched positions, and the one who had been raping her, grabbed her hair and smacked her, and said if she didn’t behave he would kill her. Then he forced her to perform oral sex, while his buddy raped her.

I struggled some more, and then J.D, smacked me several times in the face, and then I gave up. I didn’t fight back anymore; I just laid there and let them hurt me. My friend Amar woke up in a chair, and he saw what was going on, and he pulled them off of us, and got his ass kicked, but the men finished us off, and then left.

Amar got us home, and snuck us inside and cleaned us up. Amber begged me every day to go to the police, but I was too ashamed. My best friend of 9 years became pregnant after that. She had an abortion, and when she asked me for the last time to go to the police with her, and I refused because I was too ashamed…I didn’t listen to my mother, and how I was dressed I must have been asking for it. How would police believe me?

That night that I refused, I lost my best friend. She got into drugs, and was never the same, and we stopped talking. For ten years, I kept it to myself. After that night the three of us stopped speaking to each other. I was, and still am ashamed for it. I could have gone to the police but I didn’t. 

Now after I finally came out and told my mother about it for the first time this year, she said it answered a lot of questions she had. She said I changed my personality, my moods, and the way I dressed and acted. So, after talking to my mother, I entered into psychiatric therapy to help accept what happened to me, and to learn it wasn’t my fault.

It is a long process, and I believe one day I can get over it, and move on from it.

This brings me to a different point of the entry here. That picture above rings true. Sure my mother was teaching me to be safe, but at the same time, why teach our kids to NOT get raped, when instead we should teach people to NOT rape.  Society prosecutes rapists, but at the same time, they don’t teach them not to do it. They just call it a crime like everything else.

Stop the rape, and educate people…seriously!!!!