Why latex

I've had a massive latex fetish for a while now. I don't really remember a time when it wasn't a turn on, either sexually or emotionally. Like it made sense on more than one level.

I'm sitting here with a latex hood on, and it's been on for a few hours by now. It's so nice, and despite being a size too small for my fat head, it's extremely comforting. I feel comfortable in it, and it only just hit me why.

I get overstimulated easily, and most of it feels like it's coming in through my head, which is why I'm kinda fussy about people touching my face and when I'm ok with kissing people. That, on top of the auditory stimulation, wears me down and makes it very hard for me to be out in loud environments and still be social.

The hood makes everything muted; it's like the world gets it's volume turned down. My hair doesn't bother me, there's latex over my ears so sounds have their edge taken off and there's a layer between my skin and peoples' touch. This makes me feel very internal, contained and safe. It makes me feel disconnected with the outside world, and able to approach it on my own terms.

Object

My friend, who is... kinda my sub at the moment (yeah that's a weird turn of events) is really into humiliation and objectification, to the point where she doesn't even want to be seen as a person anymore, but an object. This is in some future tense where she can't even make out a date.

It scares me though, and makes me sad. I went through these same feelings when Serina went to E to be his slave. Like, identical. But it only just hit me why. It's not because I project that onto me, and I'm scared it will happen to me. It has to do with my abandonment issues.

See, if my slut (sub) is merely an object, they cease to be human, and cease to be my friend, and able to interact with me on that level. Likewise, I was scared of Serina ending up in a similar fashion, and also sad that both of these people decided they'd rather that than be my friend.

It makes a lot of sense to me. It sucks, but it makes sense. With all that said, this is entirely in the context of it being permanent. Rendering my slut into an object for a day or two and treating them like an animal, or dirt, is hot as fuck. But if I can't even talk to her, or hang out with her, what's the point?

Reach out

It's amazing what happens when you make your wants known.

I placed a personal ad on FetLife for a crossdresser. I got a lot of replies, and I've actually been talking to a few fairly consistently. I've even got a date arranged in the near future with one.

I'm quite excited. I've wanted a boy for a long time. Now I get to have a crossdressing boy who wants to submit to me. Oh, this is going to be fun.

Confidence

Being that I grew up with no faith in myself or my own abilities, I constantly surprise myself at what I can do. I regularly test my limits nowadays, and initiate things that may not work. Sometimes they don't work, sometimes things totally fall apart, and so do I for a while, and I lose hope. But then I accept what happened, try to push past the pain, and try it again in a different way.

For example, I still want to go to kink events even after my almost traumatising experience, and more than just wanting to go, I've proven to myself that they can be fun and rewarding.

Being that I grew up without this feeling, I've been almost overdosing on it. I've been pushing myself too hard, too far, without realising it. I don't know my own ability anymore, because I suddenly have a lot more of it, I can't get a read on it. But it's an amazing feeling. I could almost describe it as drunk on power.

But this is a good problem to have. This is a better position than I've ever been in. I get to learn my capacity, and understand how I tick again, and once I do that, and learn how to relearn my limits, I can push them further and harder, without risk of it blowing up in my face.

I've been re-analysing my own capacity to get a partner, and I've had multiple people initiate with me in varying capacities, so my confidence there is getting a bit higher, which is amazing.

No faith

I don't trust anyone to stay around me. I'm used to spending so much time alone that I almost regret inviting others into my life. I believe that everyone will abandon ship at the first opportunity, and it's happened a few times.

This is why it's hard for me to form new relationships. I'm staring down the barrel of something I want, and I almost called it off the other day because I believed it was only a matter of time that he would decide he didn't want me, and I would just make things easier if I stopped things now. I had something to tell him, and I was worried about how he'd react. I had already made the decision for him, deciding that what I had to say was too much trouble.

I was ready for the worst... and I didn't get it. Quite the opposite. I got a very good reaction. I was stunned, I was genuinely expecting him to tell me to go away. But he didn't. He wants to continue, and see where this goes. I've yet to meet him, but I think we may finally meet face to face this weekend.

He wants to see inside my head, and he makes me feel comfortable while I dig parts out for him. I call him Master, now. Had trouble believing that word would be part of my regular vocabulary.

Feast or famine

Hopefully I'm not setting myself up for more crashes, but things have been looking up in my personal life. It's rather confusing to me, I've got 3 people vocally interested, in vastly different capacities, and what makes me happy is that they don't conflict with each other, so I don't have to decide what to do, because I can just do it all.

It's rather obscene, really. I guess this is just what happens when you take time off from the world and just look at yourself, and work on yourself. After all, I am in a type of recovery. I have things to look forward to outside of these people, I'm on the radio and doing quite a lot with it, I do stuff with my group...

But once burned, twice shy. I'll see when I get there, really. I hope things work out for once.

Accept

My mental state is somewhat positive lately. I have a playdate on monday, and I've just generally been feeling good about myself.

This is, of course, after contrast to how I've been feeling lately. And For how bad I felt, it didn't last as long as it usually does. I was going kinda crazy, because I wanted some kink in my life again, and I wondered what I was doing wrong. So instead of sulking and complaining, I asked Serina what I was doing wrong, because she knows more about the community than I do.

So at least now I have a direction. It felt nice to just accept I was feeling shit about it, that I was doing something wrong, but didn't know what.

How far are you willing to go?

I thought that as long as I got what I wanted in the end, and as long as no one got hurt, it wouldn't matter what lengths I took. Doesn't matter if I'm used, or hurt, or made colder.

I don't think I can actually push myself that far. Maybe I'm too soft for this kind of attitude.

That same someone seems determined to remind me of the worst that people can be. Aside from his looks and kinks, there is nothing good about him. Perhaps nothing good can come from interacting with him.

He did a lot of things that didn't bother me enough to leave, until last night. He takes pride in never apologising, even when he really really should. He believes he is never wrong, when he is frequently. The only misunderstandings are of the people around him. If he never admits fault, there can be no trust. Thus, there can be no play between us, because that shit is dangerous.

I have low self esteem, not a death wish. Maybe I'll go throw myself at someone else.

Scalpel

Who knew age play was such a big thing for me? I mean, I knew I liked it... but I didn't expect that someone hating it to make me feel this way.

I've been contacted by someone I used to play with. We have a lot in common, in terms of kink. Not so much in terms of personality and lifestyle. Our brainwaves clash a fair bit as well.

He wants me to be his secondary/casual submissive, which is good timing because I've wanted a non-emotionally attached kink buddy for a while now. He's a lot stricter than I'm used to, but I'm used to basically being able to trash the house without so much as a glance. So this might be fun. It's kinda scary too.

We've been talking about what he expects, and I'm smiling and nodding and agreeing to everything without flinching because I know what he likes already and he's pretty much a very stereotypical sexual D-type person. Then I bring up age play and puppy play, mostly as a warning because sometimes it just happens, and he goes NOPENOPENOPENOPENOPE NONE OF THAT. Since he had that reaction, I thought I'd better ask about bringing stuffed toys to kink events, since I still kinda need that emotional support, and he said NO NEVER THAT'S BANNED.

Typing that out just then made me cry. When he said it, I was totally crushed. I went to lie down in bed for a while and think if this is really something I want to do. I don't have anyone to talk to either. Cookie is AWOL and Serina has a bias, and is semi-AWOL herself.

More kink events

What an interesting weekend.

I went to a kink event again. And I had a lot of fun. More than that, I met someone, and even arranged a playdate with a very adorable twinky boy. He makes me giggle just thinking about him.

I've wanted to write about this for a while, but nothing... happened. I didn't have any revelations, any unique experience outside of playing with a TENS machine, no outrageously negative experiences. It was just a fun night with friends in a new fun environment.

I did take Jane, my dead elephant, for moral support, and she helped at the start when I was feeling a little nervous and unsure about the place. But I felt better, and eventually carrying her around was just a statement on my littleness, and not a safety blanket, which was a nice transition.

There was this one very surreal aspect of the night, at the very end. There was this cute topless boy getting tied up. The room they were in was tall, and had slow lights moving around making it seem a lot taller and alive, and there was a song being played that I listened to a lot when starting The Pills, so there's a weird association there and I felt like I was floating. It was all a very strange and it made me feel quite happy.

Afterwards, I spent the night at E's house with Serina, which was nice. Talking to her until very late and falling asleep. The next day, E and L were having people over, and that was a lot of fun as well. So many new people in just a few days.

Basically if this keeps up, kink events won't even be a Thing anymore. Which would be nice.

Exploration

It's hard when someone is removed from your life so traumatically. It's even harder when you still like them, but they seem to treat you like poison. This blog is my place, yet why do I feel the need to censor myself just because I know she still reads it?

I've written about 3 drafts in the last hour, saying different things about something new in my life and how it compares to my last relationship, but the words either come out too harsh or completely missing the point I try to make.

So what is it I want to say?

I miss sex. I've missed it for a long time. I miss being penetrated, and having someone enjoy my genitals, instead of just tolerating them. I tried to tell myself I didn't mind how it was, but I missed it a lot. I recently asked someone I know if they'd be interested in doing something with me, and they said yes.

Many things are running through my head about this. I'm worried that I won't be good enough, or if they don't find my naked body appealing, or if they cancel... but I'm still going through with it. I'm also extremely excited. This is someone new, I get to do things to them, they switch and like a ton of the same stuff I like. I've had it in my head that I really really want to take her for a walk on a leash one night. I've wanted something like this for a while, and used my newfound confidence to get it.

Now if only I could muster up the courage to go to a kink event.

On the leash

Over the course of my last relationship, I found I had an obsession with leashes. I adored being on the end of a leash, I couldn't get enough of it. I even came close to dying because of my love of leashes: I was leashed to the bed one night when she was here, and we went to sleep for the night, and I woke up in the middle of the night because I had turned over multiple times and was strangling myself. I never told her out of fear of never having a leash again (though at the time it seemed more like I'd rather die than never be on a leash again).

It's such a simple thing, too. It's just a chain that leads to my collar, but it can be so powerful. If the person holding it wants me close, they pull me in. If they want me further out, they give me some slack. If they want me to wonder around of my own accord, they take it off. If they want me to stay somewhere, they tie it to something. But even then, you're still under their control, still submitting to them, because you're where they want you.

I found immense comfort being leashed to things. Frequently when I was feeling low, she would leash me to the bed, or she'd put the leash on me and hold onto it while we sat on the couch. I remember one night at a party at her house, I got very sleepy and went to bed. She came in a little while later to check up on me, and I said I wasn't coming back out. She wrapped my old collar around my neck and leashed me to the bed, and kissed me goodnight. I felt so cared for, and loved at that moment.

I think I need to put leashes into the Need category for future relationships.

Let's meet

Actually, let's not.

I've been talking to someone lately, and it progressed far enough to warrant meeting in person. This is great, I thought, this guy seems decent. We had a lot in common, in terms of kink.

So I asked where he'd like to meet, and he said my house. Um, no, that's not how this works, dude. Why not a cafe? Cafes are nice (and neutral and you're less likely turn me into a statistic), let's go to a cafe. Then, the bombshell: that's too public.

He does not want to be seen in public with me. He says he doesn't want people to know he's bi and kinky. After getting more info, it was clear he was referring to the fact I'm trans.

Dammit, this isn't fair. You can't have so much in common with me, and then be like this.

One strange thing about this is that I can definitely feel The Pills working. My normal reaction to this happening (he is the fourth person to do this) is to sulk for a few days in bed and maybe cry. Not crying over them, really, just crying because it's another layer of icing on the Shit Cake that is being transgender. But today, no tears, very little bed.

I can almost physically feel my thoughts bumping up against a wall, but not that type of Wall either. Maybe it's a new type of Wall, one that's keeping me from accessing the bad thoughts, but my brain is a creature of habit, and doesn't yet understand that there's now a Wall in the way, so it keeps going for them.

The result is me being very confused about my own headspace. Like I said, I can almost feel what's happening in my head now, because something about it has changed. I know what I would normally be feeling, and this latest one has been the worst of them all, so I should be a wreck. But I'm not. I've had a vent to some people, had a minor sulk, and resumed my day. It's not that I haven't felt the hurt, or sadness from this, but now it seems I can put it in it's place a lot better.

Better living through chemistry, indeed.

Submission and you

How do you spot a douchebag who's masquerading as a Dominant?

Maybe I'm being paranoid, but it's reminding me that I just don't know what to look for in terms of warning signs or good points. I could be talking to a sociopath, or worse, someone vanilla. What if he only has interest in me because I'm trans? Or because I'm easy? Or because I don't have much experience and can exploit that?

On the flip side, assuming he is genuine and good and not crazy or vanilla and all that, what if I bore him? What if I'm too damaged, or inexperienced, or scared?

The scary end to this is that I just don't know. In this case, he's interchangeable with anyone who would be interested in me. In my head, the idea of submitting under another person is... terrifying, and I have to keep reminding myself why I want this. It's the ambiguity of it. If I imagine submitting to someone, then of course it's scary. But if I imagine submitting to someone who I like, who I understand, who is understanding, it removes a lot of the fear. If there were no fear, I wouldn't be taking it seriously, and I wouldn't be thinking about it, right?

How do you spot a scared little girl who's masquerading as a submissive?

The memories in a collar

I was cleaning up my room earlier today because it's been far too long, I could barely see the floor anymore. I like having a clean room, cleaning my room helps clear my mind, makes me feel like I've done something which is pretty rare for me nowadays. Then I look through this alcove under my TV to rearrange some DVDs and see all my old kink gear. Chains, pinwheels, cuffs, a paddle that hasn't been used yet.... and my old collar.

I have a lot of memories of this. I remember when we bought it, we looked for weeks to find just the right collar. I remember when it was common for me to wear it for days at a time, because I was out of my house and at hers. I remember sleeping in it for the first time, and her holding onto it, making sure I wasn't going anywhere, like I was some precious pet. I remember her taking me for walks on a leash in it. I remember bursting into tears one day when she had to leave, and went to take the collar off, because I loved feeling like I was hers.

When I found it before, I started crying. So many memories that this one piece of leather and metal bring back... but none of them sad. Every single memory I have of it, and wearing it, is a happy memory. I don't have anything else in my life that holds exclusively happy memories.

Pain

You know what sucks? Unlocking your masochism, and then having no one to play with.

Since I'm getting electrolysis regularly, however, it kinda takes the edge off. I used to try to work on not letting myself slip into that same mindframe as when I used to play, but since I've been craving it for a few weeks I decided to let myself go there. And it worked. And it felt oh so good. I remember there was this one abnormally painful hair, and while it was excruciating, as soon as it was out I floated for a few seconds.

What didn't feel good was after it, though. After a scene I just need... quiet, and dark. I got none of that, and while it was nice hanging out with a friend, I just needed time alone. Last time something like this happened I got a bit crazy.

What Serina said is still correct, I need some kind of post-treatment support here. I never really received any before, and I remember that first time I went, and took care of myself, so I guess I can just do that again.

My Place

Today, mummy noticed I flinch when she touches me. She's always noticed, but I think it just hit her that I flinch almost every single time.

I'm used to her pinching me, or poking me, to hurt me and maybe to get a reaction. If she ever gropes my boobs, it's because she wants to pinch them or make me think she wants to pinch them. So naturally, a flinch has grown over time to her touch. Just because I like pain from her, doesn't mean I want it all the time. Pain is still pain.

Today, she sat me on the floor and talked to me about it. She said she doesn't like that I flinch, and move away from her touch so much. I didn't understand, because well... it seemed she had been doing this quite intentionally. She said I needed to trust her more. That she has stopped randomly pinching me. That she stopped giving me random pain. I had to think to see how true that was.

Once that got through, she said another thing: this is your place, on your knees. You are mine, and I'm allowed to hurt you whenever I want.

It is. I am. She is. I just need to remember those things, and learn to trust her intentions more. If mummy chooses to hurt me, I have to accept that.

Processing

Mummy and I had a scene today, and it was rather intense. Probably the hardest I've ever gone.

I enjoyed it. I wanted to do it. But... it was so hard. A lot harder than I was expecting. I safeworded a few times, and said I was ok to carry on afterwards. And then... something broke. Mummy did a few really hard hits with the cane, and I was at my threshold, but I don't think I knew it at the time, and then came more hits that were harder, and I... fell apart, and cried, and broke down a bit. It took me past what I know I can handle, and... scared me. I kept crying and crying for ages, and I finally stopped while mummy was hugging me, telling me I was a good girl, and that she loved me, while I just pressed into her in a headspin.

Unlike any previous scenes, I didn't float. I didn't drift off into That Place I go when I take pain like this. I felt it all. Mummy was going hard, and changing things, so I had no way of getting a read off it, and get used to it, or anything. I had no stable ground to hold onto, until finally it all crumbled and left me as a helpless, crying mess.

It was hours ago now, but I'm still... shaking. And thinking. And... still randomly crying sometimes.

Any form of talking is too much on my mental state right now. We went out for dinner afterwards, because I don't want to deal with my mother tonight, and when we got to the mall I asked mummy what she wanted for dinner, and she said it was up to me. And I just glazed over, and kept asking her what she wanted. At the time, I couldn't even come close to communicating what this was, and frankly I don't think it was a good idea at all to have left the house, but it was the lesser of two evils. I was so confused, and lost. Mummy is supposed to make decisions, right? Why isn't she now?

Eventually I just... made a decision, and went to McDonald's because it took the least effort to do.

I feel like there's some kind of wall between me and reality right now. Like something is weird. I had to fight off several panic attacks tonight, and despite not floating, I've crashed several times. And these are hard crashes. I was leashed to the bed after the scene because I just wanted some alone time, and I started crying but didn't, and don't, know why. I was just a mess, crying into my pillows, hugging my soft toys.

Right now, writing this... helped. I haven't had any alone time before now. I couldn't articulate anything before, because I haven't had time to think.

I keep wondering, and thinking... maybe we went too hard? Maybe I'm not ready for this kind of stuff? Perhaps it's more getting used to the escalation of it all, and realising and remembering that if you want to go harder, you gotta go further.

Staring down an inanimate object

What is it about chastity that I like? Why is it so frustrating to not be locked up? Mummy already owns my genitals, and decides if/when I get to have an orgasm, isn't that enough?

I miss the physical reminder that it gives. I like having no choice in the matter, it's why I gave it to her. And it's... difficult to rely on willpower alone. I've been incredibly horny lately, and I don't know why, but I've been good, and asked mummy if I was allowed to touch myself (because she's not here).

Mummy said she misses it being locked up as well. But I've been frustrated and angry at the device we have, because it keeps giving me bruises or cuts. Which is really stupid, because what I'm angry at is a piece of metal. I can't give it the silent treatment, or talk it into behaving. And that's why I'm going to lose this battle.

I've been trying to tell myself for a few weeks that I don't really want it locked up. But I do. I really do. And I want mummy to have the key.

Service mummy

Tonight, I was completely wrecked when we got home. We came in, and I said I needed to do the dishes (there was a lot) and feed the dog. I go out and feed the dog, and sit down at the computer to take 5 before I start the dishes. Then I hear mummy start the tap, and move some stuff around. She was about to do everything, and she said she didn't mind, and I should just sit down for a while.

But it felt.... weird. I'm the one who serves her, aren't I? Why was I sitting down, and relaxing, while she does the dishes? I tried to just relax like she said, but I couldn't. This was a new experience, one that came out of the blue.

I like serving my mummy. And to have her serving me is... wrong. So I got up and asked her if there was anything I could do (after coming out a few times to understand that she was ok doing the dishes herself). She said I could help dry things and put them away. So I did that. And I felt much better about it.

Silly mummy. Girly's are for service.