Copious Cs

Come, church, cuffs, cats. I had so many Cs in my head that instead of picking one, I’ll talk about a few Cs

Cunt

The first c that popped into my head this morning. It drew me back to the mindful masturbation bit. I was thinking about how those times you just sit and stroke your body and how I don’t do that often enough.

As a child, that sort of touching wasn’t encouraged. Developmentally, we all go through the period of discovering our genitals. Discovering it and discovering that touching there feels nice.

This is where a bit of my own childhood trauma crops up. My own moment of sexual assault as a young child. It’s insane how much that can fuck up your sexual health. As a result, masturbation became less a form of pleasure and more of almost punishment. Masturbation has always been about the orgasm for me never the real pleasure of the act.

I’m still learning how to love my cunt. Mindful masturbation is just touching without any real aim. I tried a bit of that the other day when I couldn’t sleep. It felt nice to just touch and let that sensation bloom in my pelvis.

Though orgasms have been involved with the help of one nice Daddy and a Doxy. I took time after those moments to think about how I’ve felt. Soft. I felt soft and at ease. After is one of those moments where the little in me pops out. It was nice.

Collar

When I’m here, with Michael (Daddy), I wear my collar.

Let me say that I don’t wear much jewelry. My nose ring, my septum hoop, and a lion necklace is the extent of my jewelry wearing. I’m pretty attached to things that I wear on my person, but I’m also prone to losing jewelry. For that reason, I try to keep it to a minimum.

Last year when I visited around Eroticon, we found me a collar at London Alternative Market. It was beautiful leather in red with a black strip that held an O-ring, and a buckle in the back. I managed to lose the O-ring on a walk (no idea how), but it didn’t matter because I still had the collar itself.

Until recently.

Last visit, I noticed that my neck would get a bit itchy. I just thought maybe I needed to be careful about keeping sweat off of it. Except it continued to happen the more I wore it. A rash and discomfort under the back of the collar near the buckle. I finally had to say something and his suggestion was to leave it off.

Sadness hit me hard. What am I if I don’t have my collar on? Does that change things?

I was reminded that the collar doesn’t change the nature of our dynamic. I am still his. Still, I’d like something else to wear. Preferably that doesn’t make me breakout.

On the search!

Coffee

This seems like the best C to end on.

I love coffee. Well that may not be true. Really, coffee has become a thing like beer. I hated beer when I first started drinking, but gradually it becomes an almost comfort drink. That may not be totally true, but I do enjoy coffee.

It was my go to when I graduated from college and went to nights. How people stay awake on overnights without that magic elixir is beyond me, but I need my Venti cup as soon as I walk through the door.

Unsurprisingly, too much coffee has a bad habit of amplifying any anxiety I may be having. Excellent for making me alert, but has also induced palpitations/chest pain, panic, and general feelings of dread when I’ve already been keyed up. I tend to scale down my coffee drinking in that case.

But I don’t think I’ll ever give it up. It’s a taste that grows on you. Starbucks has my number!