Meeting myself before I meet you. Sharp and ambivalent, won't you lie on my skin?

"Taxidermist, Taxidermist" by Lady Lamb The Beekeeper

Crush du jour: Idris Elba for whom I would learn to tie a tie.

As the dark days dwindle down with the lingering ache his absence has left, I realize that it's the smart, strong women (and a few wise, grown-ass men) with whom I've been keeping company who've been holding up the light for me, helping me find the path out of the despair. For my new, far flung friends: You are my jewels. Thank you.

Jewelby The 3Dsfrom the 1992 album, *Hellzapoppin'* on Flying Nun Records
Did I tell you all of those things that I felt I had to say?
Did I lay my head down into your arms today?

"Who?" said the bird in the silver cage.
Why is there blood running down my face?
Am I trying to say goodbye?

I watched in sorrow the things I've seen
Coming back in a running dream.
Did I see (like I thought I saw) your face preening through the door?

The clock stopped.
The night ran to...
To its way back to you.

And will I lie down tonight with my body in light?

2013 resolution: Stay far, far away from the booboisie. Happy New Year, y'all.

crush du jour: David Foster. Yeah, I know, a lot of mainstream pap, but some brilliance in there. "To be real!"

And I'll Protect You, I Promise I Will
Merry it is because I'm not saddled with his tedious, perpetually lying ass this holiday season. Sad and dark it is because the him he pretended to be isn't cradling my face this holiday. Frightened Rabbit, It's Christmas So We'll Stop: a trifecta of shiny hard brilliance for you:

1. Original 12" single (2007)

2. A Capella choir version

3. Drunken live version (my favorite) that begins with a bit of Radiohead.

"Next day life went back to its bad self."

XOXOX,
Rain

"I want an amazing, intimidating, worldly, intoxicatingly intelligent and witty woman. Those are the qualities I look for in a submissive partner." -Via an incredibly sexy Dom in response to the question, What are the qualities you look for in a submissive? I so love strong, wise men.

Dear Santa,
Now that he's getting older and those lines around his mouth and near his eyes are so kissably kissable, may I please have Sam Rockwell in my stocking, this year?
Thanks!
Rain

crush du jour: Leonard Cohen.
Steam coming off the planet, clouds of fleecy steam as boy and girl populations clash in religious riots, hot and whistling like a graveyard sodomist our little planet embraces its fragile yo-yo destiny, tuned in the secular mind like a dying engine. -From "Beautiful Losers" by Leonard Cohen (1966) published by McClelland and Stewart.

"Girlfriend, it's your boyfriend / Strip show just goes on and on / Where to now? / I hope you'll go one better / A love that's lost and found / Where's it bound? / I didn't think you'd come back / I didn't think we'd row / I'm waiting for you, now / You think I over did it? / Me too / I'm waiting for you / I can't believe you'd leave me / I can't believe you'll stay / I'm waiting every day / I'm sick and tired of listening / I stand without a sound / I'm waiting for you, now."
Long Fin Killie, "Yawning At Comets" from the album, "Amelia" (1997) on Too Pure/Pure.

I want to tell you about a girl.

Books. Burlesque. Comedy. Dancing. I love it when I don't have to string a sentence together. 3rd Annual Books + Burlesque Show, Saturday 01 December, Hi-Ho NOLA, 2239 Saint Claude. 9:30 free comedy, 11:00 Burlesque, After party with DJ Clara Voyant. Event listing here.

Tip for my single home girls: Kicking off the holiday season with a shirtless hungover Scotsman making stuffed French toast with strawberries in your kitchen while catching up on your New Yorker back issues and listening to Band of Susans? Not too shabby. Happy food & football day, y'all.

DD Baseline: The Conspicuous Intangibles of Magnetic Dominant Daddies
Removing individual sexual proclivities (he loves anal sex), personal desires (he lets me watch him work a slave) and surface preferences (he's handsome and has a big dick) from the equation:

What are the mandatory conspicuous (and not so) magnetic qualities of the men you would consider as a potential Dominant Daddy, and why?
This is my own evolving baseline distillation, but I'm interested in yours, too:

Confidence: He's not cocky, rude or demanding. He knows he's naturally dominant. He doesn't feel the need to prove it to anyone. His strength, integrity and competence are evident in all aspects of his demeanor and physical presence.

Candor: Direct and honest in his communications, the ever-deepening dialog with his girl solidifies bonds, instills trust and fosters lifetime growth for both.

Allegiance: His girl comes first in all situations. Because he keeps his promises, neither his character or his word is ever in question. His loyalty is conspicuous in the commitments he makes, which he always honors.

Benevolence: He is instinctively protective and nurturing of his girl. Her sense of security, her safety and her well-being are his first concern. His approach to discipline revolves around the concepts of transgression and redemption. His self-control and sense of humor temper his strong sense of justice.

Substance: Rather than insisting on age play, costumes, props, chores and punishments, he guides and plays with substantive experience, reason and an exciting mental agility. His escalating understanding of his girl and innate ability to think critically inform his decisions and his inventive play alike.

Nuance: Instead of bullying or relentlessly asserting arbitrary positions, his attention to the subtlest detail and his rich emotional vocabulary enable imaginative, barrier-breaking resolutions to conflict or obstacles-- perceived and actual.

Multifariousness: Like a world-class city, he's not a one-trick pony bent solely on pursuing his own, singular interests. Adaptive, shared exploration of the limitless world and his fierce, dark reaches (and his girl's) leave no room for boredom or ruts.

Cognizance: Because of his experience and wisdom, he recognizes, honors and cherishes the power his girl gives up to him and never takes the significance of her submission and devotion for granted.

Immersion: He is not distracted by cheap approximations or a shiny things. His discerning taste and healthy self-esteem lead him to choose solitude rather than settle for anyone less than the girl to whom he can devote his considerable attention and love. When he does find her, he is a fully engaged participant and guide in his relationship with her.

To the lovely man who wrote to say the verbs scared him a bit because he was concerned about living up to this code or standard:

The very definition of courage is moving forward through something about which we are fearful-- not reckless fearlessness. I think you're courageous for admitting this and continuing on.

It's the striving to live up to that standard everyday that's conspicuous in every gesture. I think that code is honorable and worthy of the best good girl. Personally, my disappointment has always been in watching a man give up, the abandonment of his code, or his not fighting or striving to be a good man, to do the right thing, to dive into the uncharted depths. And, personally, for not fighting for me-- for selling me out. Dominant Daddies are human. They will fail, as we all do. It's not having the courage of his convictions that makes him a less than what a good girl deserves.

Thank you for hearing/reading/seeing and for responding.

XOXOX,
Rain

My favorite John Waters interviews: Most of the Big Think and all of the Craig Ferguson, for whom I'm definitely holding out.

Just hold your breath, bend your knees & push: A Daddyless good girl lets go
Sent from my iPhone to my FaceBook account at 9:15pm last night while on my first post-Daddy date since breaking it off with him:

"At opera posting on FB. Butt numb. 1st post-boy date feigning interest. Buggs bunny in my head. Horrors: one of chorus is creepy stalker guy from Buffa's! Here comes angry usher."
We met on the roof at an after hours gallery event at The Ogden last year, ran into each other at the Tav Falco book signing at Euclid Records and subsequent gig at Siberia NOLA, then again at a late showing of Paul Thomas Anderson's superb "The Master" at The Prytania during the ex-Daddy's penultimate inexplicable epic sulk last month. A promising trifecta of eclectic taste and shared interest that weighted my decision to accept his invitation to dinner and "The Barber of Seville."

Dinner and pairings at John Besch's August were outstanding. The chemistry was subtly there, and so we began the slow, tentative telling of the surface of our stories. I appreciated his cautious candor-- the kind that leaves enough unveiled, that promises hidden depths and reflects an innate understanding that it takes a lifetime to truly get to know another. And, I liked his receptive, genuine interest in what I had to say-- his relevant questions showing an engaged mental agility and familiar, emotional vocabulary to which I am unaccustomed in the allegedly dominant men with whom I've been involved.

Later, during the seemingly interminable c-company performance, I gave him a questioning glance as I pulled my iPhone out, and he smiled, taking his out as well, and we managed to both fire off a single message before the angrily glaring usher made it to our aisle. I enjoyed the intimacy of feeling like conspiratorial adolescents caught smoking behind the gym.

I didn't make up my mind to invite him up for a night cap until we were a block from my building. It pleased me unreasonably that in the elevator he barely glanced at the rude 20-something tight-bodies in the "pay girlfriend" shoes who were most definitely eyeing him up and down like skinny bobble-headed search lights*, his hand on my lower back, a faint smile crossing his handsome face when he caught me looking up at him.

He looked confortable on my rug, going through my records, jacket off, tie loosened, shirt collar unbuttoned. I sat on the bench in front of him and didn't mind when he took off my shoes and rubbed my feet and calves while we smoked, sipped and talked about music, live shows we really enjoyed and the opera genre with which he's much more familiar than I. And, I didn't mind when he eventually asked, "May I?" as his hands moved up my thighs to my belly and the top of my pantyhose and shapewear, effortlessly pulling them down and off of me as I lifted my hips, as if he'd done it a thousand times before. And, I didn't mind when he gently pushed me back against the window ledge then held my thighs and belly and mons in surprisingly capable hands, exposing my most overly sensitive flesh to his tongue and lips and breath.

His moans and sighs were barely audible over the music. I was astonished at the skill and obvious pleasure with which this 35-year-old man handled my soft flesh, my 50-year-old body. I wasn't, however surprised at my own initial reaction. I don't like looking down at a man or seeing a man on his knees, nor have I really enjoyed receiving oral sex since divorcing my second husband who I haven't seen in 15 years.

At first, as usual, I simply looked curiously down at the top of his head, wondering at his competent hands, and then I closed my eyes and saw the afterimage of my ex-Daddy. I'd broken my rule that I wouldn't date again until I could close my eyes and not see him there. And there he was, my ex-Daddy, his face hovering over me, his arms stretched in my periphery, his body moving over me. I could hear the echo of his voice telling me to cum for Daddy and suddenly, I was at the edge-- of my longing for the him I'd imagined him to be, of my searing need for his lies to have been true, of the depths of my desire to submit completely to the man I'd believed he was in the beginning. And then, I let go, breath held, pushing down onto this sweet, voracious man's face, salty tears in my mouth, my body shaking uncontrollably in excruciating, ecstatic, unimaginably heartbreaking release.

Though he is more submissive (less dominant?) than I prefer, we played like children for a couple of hours, anyway-- his skill, his hardness, his beautiful body, his joyful pleasure in me (in my body)-- all welcome respite from all of the thinking, all of the remembering, all of the confusion of this past few months spanning the death of my relationship and this slow recovery of the good girl inside of me. We made arrangements to go out again, after Thanksgiving, but I can tell you this: I know that he's no more Daddy than the ex-Daddy was. But, I love him for purging the hidden desperation for him from my body for once and for all.

XOXOX,
Rain


* The original line, "She's got those eyes that run up and down a man like a searchlight," is from "The Women (1939) w. Clare Boothe Luce.

And, you could have sex with a fellow ticket buyer! I so love John Waters.

For My Home Girls

It's Fall, and it's been mostly good days this past month since breaking it off with the ex-Daddy. Suddenly, over a lovely dinner in peaceful solitude in my beautiful apartment, preparing for a night of satisfying work, I'm struck by the achiness and the flood of good memories. So, sisters, you who are alone this season by choice, you who refuse to settle for just any man, you who are waiting to give yourself to the grown-ass man who truly appreciates and deserves you, just want you to know it's going to pass. Just want you to know you're not really alone.

I send you nothing but love.

XOXOX,
Rain

It's Men In Kilts Week. In my head. I dare you to tell him he's wearing a skirt to his face. Bonus: Rage Against The Machine soundtrack.

This looks to be an interesting one. It's my next watch.

These fine fresh fellows are still playing live, these days, I hear. They gave me this CD at the 1992 CMJ convention and I am STILL wearing it out. Skatenigs, "Poundsauce" from the album, "Stupid People Shouldn't Breed" (1992) on Megaforce. Oh, and if any of you know them, I'll send the duct tape and address for delivery if you'll kindly pack them up and send them to me. XOXOX

I love the stories Bruce Weber's photos of the world's sexiest men plant in my head. Javier Bardem, ©2008 Bruce Weber for L'Uomo Vogue.

Wandering in, slightly slanted, a new post-boy habit of turning on TCM on arrival pays off big: "Network" has just begun and the fantastic line, "Tell Mr. Hackett to go fuck himself," is the first thing I hear. Even before the boots come off. Even before I check all of the ways I'm entirely too accessible. Even before Winston has time to rub against my shins. Even before I stand in front of the refrigerator for 5 minutes then finally grab the last of the olives, pequillo peppers, manchego, membrillo and Marcona almonds. Even before the missing of boy starts in and I start smacking it down, again. Thank you, Paddy Chayefsky for reminding me that I'm on the right track.

Southern Comfort (from a southern girl's pillow book)
A lovely new friend, who started a thoughtful thread in one of his discussion groups, asked me to add my comforters to my profile writings. I'd like to read your answers, too.

What comforts you when you're down?

A Dozen Southern Comforters* Live music at venues where no one will yap around me while I'm listening;

* A lovely meal cooked at my place by a sexy man friend who can throw down in the kitchen;

* Slow orgasms with good porn (hello Hitachi, my old friend);

* Lemondrops (1 vodka, 1 limoncello, 1 fresh lemon juice, 1 sweet & sour shaken over ice and strained into a martini glass);

* Catching up on all of my New Yorker back issues;

* A long drive to Baton Rouge and back, music blasting, sun roof open;

* Dark chocolate covered strawberries from Debbie Does Doberge;

* A movie at The Theateres At Canal Place with table service, cocktails and truffle popcorn;

* Satsuma Dreamsicle ice cream from the New Orleans Ice Cream Company;

* The company of strong, smart, cynical women who have great senses of humor and really love men;

* Handsome, sexy, funny, flirtatious men who really love women-- particularly this woman;

* Cigarettes and iced coffee by the pool on the roof at night when Canal Street is all lit up.

Your turn.

XOXOX,
Rain

Le sigh to the yes. Callum Keith Rennie is going to be haunting my dreams, tonight. Welcome back, my old friend.

This was my response to a question in a FetLife discussion group a while back, but the thread was buried under the usual tired cliches, aphorisms and mind-numbingly boring questions, so I'm posting here, hoping to hear about your own amusing misadventures.

---

Have you ever dated guys or girls with weird sexual quirks?
Oh, for fucksake, can you get me a REAM of paper? Just off the top of my head:

St. Somebody: "Oh dear God, please forgive me!" every time he came;

Mr. Stiffy: His body went stiff as a board whenever he came and he trembled in this shaken-not-stirred way and made little mewling sounds;

Better Than Paste: He put the ends of my hair in his mouth when he was fucking me;

Who's Sorry Now?: "Bet you're sorry you asked for this dick, now, huh," and "You can't take it, can you, bitch?" when he was getting close and all the way through orgasm. Thing is, he was never very hard. Never completely hard. Ever.

Tuna Can Tommy: I think it was Joseph Wambagh's book, "The Glitter Dome," in which a character would send photos of his very short (maybe 2 inches) and very wide, penis to random women. That character reminds me of a man I dated who when things were getting hot and heavy, was always whispering in my ear about how he couldn't wait to give me his his "massive cock." Bonus: He came in about 3 seconds.

I have to stop now, or I'm never going to date, again.

XOXOX,
Rain

PS: The title is pilfered from SNFU:

I don't need no one to put me down,
I'm on the ground-- can't get no lower.
And I don't need no one to hang around
and make me frown-- just makes me look older.
And, I don't need no one to black my eye,
and tell me lies-- Don't wanna cry over
nobody else. No,
I can do bad all by myself
-Mary J. Blige

"In the future, there are still titties." The trailer for the award-winning documentary about NOLA's luscious Slow Burn Burlesque:

Daddy Don't Play That (Hard Limit 01: Passive Aggression & Ignoring)
This is in response to the Ignoring as Punishment thread from the FetLife group, Ask A Dominant Questions. The posts from some of the incredibly wise Dominant men and women to that thread have given me hope and helped me to clarify the mess of a failed relationship in which, in retrospect, I'm struggling to find meaning. Thank you for your honesty and reflection and especially for sharing your thoughts with all of us. My gratitude extends to everyone who has responded with frank, measured consideration to that thread, actually.

---

Post MortemThat he would inexplicably ignore me-- sometimes for days at a time-- instead of communicating with me like a grown-ass man is the reason I broke it off with my Dom/DD. This happened five times over the course of our ten-month, 24/7 relationship. Each of the first four occurrences ending, in typical batterer fashion, with his heartfelt apology and the promise that he would never do it again, and eventually, in typical batterer fashion, of COURSE he did it again, becoming more petulant, pouty and sulky with each escalating occurrence.

Having communicated very clearly and articulately to him that my top two hard limits are dishonesty (including withholding the truth and not keeping promises) and passive aggression (including ignoring, pouting, sulking and disappearing) during our first conversation about whether or not we should enter into a relationship, and reiterating these limits every time he disappeared, it is clear to me now that he was pathologically incapable of honesty with himself or others, much less of controlling himself or communicating like an adult. And, obviously, he clearly did not really want to be in a relationship with me in spite of the sweet talk, promises and verbal assurances to the contrary.

Cause of DeathIgnoring is not "punishment," nor it is "correction," or even "dominance." It is passive aggression. Passive aggression works because there are no visual marks left in its wake, and especially for the plausible deniability it affords the cowards who wield it. It is the tactic of the lazy, the weak and the powerless. It is the tool of the malignant narcissist who is only ever concerned with how he appears, and is incapable of the empathy and self-reflection required to maintain a healthy, openly communicative, mutually beneficial relationship.

There is no possibility of an honest examination of one's own motivations and behavior (much less those of one's partner) in a relationship, or of working through to the other side of any obstacle when one of the partners involved is not communicating-- even if it's simply to hold the other's hand (or even temporarily change the subject or activity) while they collect their thoughts, calm down or reflect before carrying on.

SymptomsThe result of his abrupt and unexpected disappearances was that the following diminished incrementally for me over time and with frequency and length of disappearance:

* trust in him and in his word about EVERYthing;
* respect for his strength, manhood and masculinity;
* trust in his power, self-control and dominance;
* belief in his abilities and skills as my Dom/DD, as a professional in his field, and as an honorable man;
* trust in his intellectual and emotional stability;
* belief in his commitment and integrity;
* trust in his ability to think critically and to make informed decisions;
* my physical attraction to him and his sexual magnetism.

It should be mentioned here that I rationally and in no uncertain terms informed him of this erosion he was willfully creating, to the point of even foolishly asking for his help with my own reactions to it.
And, in spite of an innate recognition of my own value, my personal inner reactions as his sub/lg to his infantile disappearances were that I felt:

* unheard, unseen-- invisible with no voice;
* utterly abandoned, cheated and isolated;
* devalued-- unworthy of being loved, cherished or appreciated;
* disregarded, discarded and rejected;
* crazy, as if I'd imagined our powerful connection and his promises;
* unsteady and unable to determine where I stood or to gain secure footing;
* ashamed that I had been so taken with, manipulated by and had given myself so easily to someone of such low character and obvious mendacity;
* abused-- deliberately hurt, repeatedly betrayed and painfully beaten down.

Lessons LearnedAll the while, it was actually he that was unworthy of the considerable trust, power and control I relinquished to him too early and unwisely. The responsibility for this pain is mine for my prolonged, continued acceptance of his behavior and forgiveness of his less and less understandable betrayal and abuse, and of his less and less plausible lies. Most men who call themselves, "Dominant," are really sad, sometimes sweet, often sadistic, frightened little boys who are constantly seeking approval, attention and love in all the wrong places. They also wouldn't recognize an authentic Good Girl if she came in a great white bag labeled in enormous red letters, "g-o-o-d g-i-r-l."

AfterlifeThe upshot is that I will never again abuse myself by ignoring my own warning bells about the men in whom I choose to invest my time, energy, love, faith and power. These gifts, astonishingly, are enough to keep me warm and sustain me while I wait patiently for a worthy grown-ass man, should He come along. In the meantime, I'm going to keep on living my beautiful life being the me I keep growing into. Thank you, ex-daddy for teaching me patience, and to never settle for less than I truly deserve.

XOXOX,
Rain

"Why you keep me hangin' around, when all you got to give me just can't be found?" -Brother Dege, Dead & Gone

How to ease the pain of a broken heart? Down home, Porch stomp, bayou rat slide guitar, baby.

Not a damn day.

i have decided to minimize contact with those who cannot hear the music. "And those who were seen dancing, were thought to be crazy, by those who could not hear the music." ~Friedrich Nietzsche

It's Thunder and It's Lightning (Find You, Find Daddy)
A wise and patient mentor/teacher with whom I've recently become acquainted expressed an interest in what I truly enjoy; what satisfies me in the deepest way, sexually, perversely-- what my kinks are. Words and phrases occurred as thoughts developed, as usual for me. As I continued to free-associate and add more, it dawned on me that the seeds of my contentment were planted with my first sexual experiences. Only one person has heard this story and this is the first time I've written it down. This is for you, my inspiring new friend. Thank you. Everyone else, I hope this helps you (Daddies and their Good Girls) get to the core of your and your partners' kinks, too.

---

First Time: Start of a journey in search of a permanent Daddy
Our fatherless house (he was gone by the time I was three) was packed for the High Holy Days one year. My cousin (distant, by marriage of his grandmother to a sibling of my grandfather) was sleeping in the twin bed across from mine in my room, and this thrilled me because I had a mad crush on him. In my inexperienced head he was Davy Jones. He, of course, was oblivious to my crush, though he did treat me sweetly, just... well, as you would a cousin you'd known since birth and thought was a pretty good girl.

I woke up late one night to the kind of Louisiana thunder and lightning and crashes that sounded... instead of foisting some fraught simile on you, I'll just tell you that thunder and lightning frightened me for a brief period early on in my life, and so I leapt into his bed, startling the crap out of him in the process. I clung to him like Velcro and he stroked my back and whispered inconsequential, comforting sounds and words into my hair and onto my face and neck. He was lovely and tender, as one would be with an irrationally frightened girl. He was also strong and reassuring-- his touches confident and protective (and completely paternal in the moment).

Feeling him hardening under me as I rocked on him, I was completely unaware of why he would be. I'm certain, now, that his physical response was at first involuntary. In a cotton nightgown and panties, I'd thrown myself onto him, straddling him with my face buried in his neck, my hands grasping and arms wrapping as best I could around him, and I'd been slowly, subtly rocking up and down, forward and backward. He wore shorts and an LSU t-shirt, so there was little between my body and his. And, perhaps he'd already been semi-hard. Most of the men I've slept with become tumescent during their sleep, off and on throughout the night. Anyway...

The awareness that my little pussy was resting and rubbing slightly off-center on his hardness grew in my fevered head as the fear started subsiding. The rocking was making me feel so surprisingly good, I shifted a bit so that the hard thing was between my little lips, and then intensified my movements. His big, strong hands tightened on my body where they rested; his warm, sweet breath quickening and washing over me in bigger waves; his words lost in soft, unintelligible whispered moans.

Suddenly, I felt his arms tense up in a different way, as if he were going to push me away and in instinctive reaction, I clung tighter to him, moving faster and harder against him to make the pleasure come more acutely for me. I didn't understand what was happening, but I did not want this to end, nor did I understand why he was thinking about moving me off of him or what he might be feeling.

His hands moved down to my buttocks and he began sliding me vertically with more pressure, elongating my movements, pulling and pushing me along his hardness. The new, intense sensations became almost excruciating for me in their perfect, delicious pitch. His voice, whispering familiar words and words I'd never heard before; the subtle scent of his cologne; his smoky sweet breath on my hair and face; the warmth of his lithe body and sheen of sweat... God, just writing about it, now pulls me under and I'm drowning in the heat.

My first orgasm spread out of the center of me, suddenly, unexpectedly, shockingly, oh so sweetly right there on his hard cock (I now knew what the word meant). Overwhelmed with sensation and emotion, tears flowing down my face, I didn't realize what it was he was experiencing in the moment, but he followed shortly, his fingers in my mouth, his hand holding my head so he could see my eyes, his soft moans whispering my name, breath washing over my face, and filling my mouth, nose and lungs. I saw what I at first thought was fear, and maybe some of it was... and then a kind of sneering joy (he smiled, but the way his lips curled, it looked like a sneer, but his eyes were so joyful and ecstatic)... and then the release, as if someone let him up from under water and I was his little life raft.

---

Still, to this day, I prefer this kind of sex-- regardless of position, I love to feel my lover's cock between my lips, but not inside of me, though I do love that too. I'm that girl in those moments. Yet, I have no desire to revert or to pretend or to babytalk or to be that girl. I just am, inside. Sometimes older, sometimes just the age that I am. But always, that me in utter ecstasy or arousal... on the inside of the inside. And, still, to this day, I return to this memory (and others of him) often, when I masturbate.

So much of everything I am is wrapped up in my relationship with him. For example, the reason music and sex are so deeply intertwined for me is that he owned a record store downtown and would bring me cutouts and new records he thought I'd like or that he wanted me to like. He spoke with me about music the way one would speak with a peer. He's the reason I discovered Creem and Rolling Stone, and the reason I later owned two music magazines, my own label and booking/management company. And, still many of my friends are musicians or are in the music industry.

Our sexual relationship (friction, masturbation and oral sex, only) ended about 3 years later when he married. He was adorable, really. He lifted me up onto a table and explained to me how things were going to change, but that he would always love his "little old lady."

With him, I'd always felt safe, secure, protected and cherished, which in turn made me feel brave, strong and that I could do anything-- be anything. He treated me always with affection and kindness, and I realize now that I wanted to please him in every way-- even when he wasn't around-- in return for his love and attention.

I was devastated and heartbroken by the loss of him, when he finally returned from his honeymoon. It was only then that I realized he would never be alone with me, again. Subsequently, I began running away from home, hitchhiking to New Orleans and back and then around the country-- never knowing for what precisely it was I was searching, but experiencing adventures that most people never experience in three lifetimes.

With retrospect, these experiences and this ever-evolving long journey eventually helped me know that I need a Daddy. Learning where my desires began is helping me define exactly what I require from a man, should he step up-- and more importantly, to be able to recognize him, when he does.

XOXOX,
Rain

PS: The title is pilfered from We Were Promised Jetpacks:

Breaking Bonds. "Untitled 2010" by Patrick Lorea.

Where the fuck is Mike Ness when you need him?

"To be nobody-but-yourself -- in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else -- means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting." -ee cummings

Missing Him. "Paris Sick" by Beatrice Morabito.

To the lovely anonymous man who silently watches over me here on ML like a guardian angel, who wrote on my board post ( http://motherless.com/V21A67A0 ) this morning at about 1:30am (not the first anonymous poster who most assuredly is a future mass murderer if he doesn't seek psychiatric help soon), thank you for the feeling of protection. I haven't felt this sensation in years. Your girl had better be good to you!
XOXOX,
Rain

Finding Daddy in a Good Girl

Hello, Everyone,

From the first person, so a lot of I me my... Am working through a painful D/s breakup and was hoping this would help others, so you're the I me my.

After the blind-siding end of a second long-term DD/lg relationship-- the first a 10-year marriage (not surprising), the last a 10-month 24/7 LDR (breathtakingly surprising. Does 10 months count as long-term?)-- and finding once again that I was moaning about passive-aggressive, narcissistic pussies who THINK they're Daddy Doms but are really submissive cowards, I made myself very quiet and asked myself exactly what I thought a good Daddy was.

As a result, instead of moaning some more, crying into my pillow, or sending him a bajillion texts asking him why he was being such a cunt and letting him talk me back into the relationship (or, rather, manipulate me into talking myself back into the relationship), I went out on a tear (thank God for New Orleans), sloshed home to create a FetLife account, joined some relevant groups, contacted a couple of local people who seemed like they knew their way around the scene, and read myself back into soberville for almost 24 hours straight. And then, I started a list of the qualities I thought were essential in a Daddy Dom.

The list of words became fairly lengthy, so I started a taxonomy and they ended up fitting into groups of three. I'm sure the information architect in me (yes, I'm a geek, shut up.) will further categorize these groups, but it just began to seem... I don't know, lyrical. And then, the word, "compassionate" started resonating. First, my eyes were drawn again and again to that 13-letter composition, and then the sound of its 4 syllables echoed fluidly in my head like water moving, and finally that reciprocal beating of the rhythm of the word with my heart that happens when my body's trying to tell me something began.

It occurred to me that it might be the little girl in me that was trying to soften toward him again after he betrayed my trust for the 4th time in as many months. But no, that softening wasn't happening this time (and still isn't, thank you very much). While thinking about this, the question, "What exactly is a Good Girl?" started whispering, and a new list began. And, guess what?

The lists are virtually identical.

To an independent, perceptive, dominant woman in all other aspects of life, this shouldn't have been the epiphany that it was. How could a woman who prides herself on her unerring spidey sense and strength of character be suckered in by not one, but two men of low character who manipulated the very D/s abandon that led her to them initially?

And that's when I realized that compassion wasn't supposed to be reserved solely for others. Unless you consider the little girl inside of a strong woman to be other. And, I don't anymore. That little girl, I, deserve(s) the same compassion, forgiveness and understanding as Daddy does. A Good Girl requires a Daddy with a strength of character to match her own. Even if that requisite reciprocity comes from being her own Daddy while she searches for the man who truly deserves and appreciates her considerable love, power and control.

So, sit tight, little girl. You've got everything you need in the interim.

Here are the lists, if you're interested:

Daddy Is (1) The Law Of Threes
[Notes on a journey in search of a permanent Daddy.]

A real Daddy is inherently:
* Strong / Protective / Confident
* Honest / Honorable / Trustworthy
* Loyal / Consistent / Generous
* Accountable / Responsible / Reliable
* Mature / Sensitive / Intuitive
* Dark / Discrete / Dominant
* Interested / Engaged / Responsive
* Comforting / Encouraging / Supportive
* Communicative / Articulate / Open
* Loving / Devoted / Cherishing
* Affectionate / Desirous / Passionate
* Intelligent / Tasteful / Creative
* Courageous / Exploratory / Evolving
* Imaginative / Inventive / Productive
* Considerate / Appreciative / Attentive
* Funny / Charming / Playful
* Compassionate / Patient / Respectful
* Direct / Clear / Forthcoming
* Wise / Guiding / Fair

A Good Girl Is (1) The Law Of Threes
[Notes on a journey in search of a permanent Daddy.]

A Good Girl is inherently:
* Strong / Spirited / Faithful
* Honest / Honorable / Trustworthy
* Loyal / Consistent / Generous
* Accountable / Responsible / Reliable
* Well-Mannered / Sensitive / Intuitive
* Dark / Discrete / Eager To Please
* Interested / Engaged / Responsive
* Comforting / Encouraging / Supportive
* Communicative / Articulate / Open
* Loving / Devoted / Cherishing
* Affectionate / Desirous / Passionate
* Intelligent / Tasteful / Creative
* Trusting / Exploratory / Evolving
* Imaginative / Inventive / Productive
* Considerate / Appreciative / Attentive
* Funny / Charming / Playful
* Compassionate / Adoring / Respectful
* Direct / Clear / Forthcoming
* Wise / Adaptable / Fair

XOXOX,
Rain

Diving in, again. Hello life. Hello depths. How I've missed you.

Found it! Sexy psychedelic soft core cult classic from 1968 featuring John Astin, Richard Burton, Ringo Starr, James Coburn and a host of stars.

This was in 5 pieces, which drove me crazy. My first motherless fave. Does anyone know the name of the director/actors/film/distributor?

Discovered this while surfing with Daddy. She is stunning and I would love to see her in an old school burlesque show, and I'm not talking about the snooze fests that strip clubs have become.

I so miss you. I so miss this. http://motherless.com/26A7E89

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eG-kMf2uhQ0 Loyalty by Meshell Ndegeochello They were both young He believed in himself only In his oversize Dickeys cinched up way high She lived in her books and fantasies They both searched for some sort of loyalty When they made love begged each other just don't betray me Come be with me Soothe my broken heart Show me loyalty Her mother's heart has been shattered Told her daughter to be ware But secrets and dreams you should never share Trust only in change cause hearts change But betrayal always feels the same But with him she found loyalty Come be with me Soothe my broken heart Show me loyalty Cause like a chi|d you will never want for love Cause all that I have I give to you Come and take my hand and share my life with me Cause you are my soul and I will always love you Come be with me Soothe my broken heart Show me loyalty Ill be there for you Right there for you Come be with me Soothe my broken heart Show me loyalty

In my heart I feel it: I'm that special kind of girl. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xk8mm1Qmt-Y