19 May 2011

The bottom of the barrel

I learned today, that someone I used to be very close to, attempted suicide on Monday.  

It isn't the first time. 

He said, it won't be the last. 

No amount of help, of trying, of anything is able to help him, or to save him from himself.  It at times, breaks my heart to know someone struggles so much.  He isn't a bad person.  But he certainly knows how to lash out and hurt with his words.  This goes in stages. 

He hurts with his words.  Cuts off any contact with anyone and everyone. And reappears months, maybe a year or so later.  It is a pattern that seems to repeat itself.  I've lost count of the number of times that it has in the time that I have known him.  But no amount of trying to "reach" will make any difference.  He remains just out of that reach, but that is his plan and his intentions. 

It is incredibly difficult.  Sometimes though, we just have to realise when there isn't anything that we can do. It is incredibly hard to accept that there isn't anything that I can do. 

Not something that sits well with me at all.

I learned today that someone I know has breast cancer.  

I hadn't seen her for a while. Now I know why.  A little older than I am, but a mum to a 10 year old.  It's times like this that just make you wonder.  It is times like this that it often brings to our minds of those we have already lost. It brings to mind all of the "potential" that life can throw at us, the fears that we can live with, and the completely devastating impact such things have on someone and their life.

I learned today that a friend of mine who had been struggling to conceive for many years lost the twins that she had been carrying as a result of recent fertility treatment.  How we wish that we could take back the things that we said that everything would be ok.

It isn't. How can it be?

It seems to be a week of sad news. 

Someone attempting to take their own life.  Another one doing all they can with treatment to save their life.  And two potential lives that never had the chance to be.

All very different, all situations which make someone think, reflect and ponder the things that life throws our way.

It is certainly situations like this, which make you dig deep, to be able to be there for those who are facing this, to be that support.  At times, it is also incredibly hard when it triggers memories of loss and times which had been laid to rest a long time ago. 

So, it's been a somewhat difficult week one way or another.  A week which has been filled with such heartbreaking news.  Someone who doesn't want any help. Someone who wants all the help they can get.  Someone who doesn't know what they want from those around them right now.



It's never easy. 

Sometimes it can really scrape the bottom of the barrel.


17 May 2011

No time . . .

I hate that there has been no time to write. No time to blog. No time to do anything of late. 

Getting everything sorted ahead of mini man and my trip to New York and Orlando next week has left little time for anything else, work has been busy, days have been busy and although there are a million and more blog entries buzzing around in my head, I haven't had chance to get anything down. 

It is frustrating.

Still, I will be going away armed with netbook next week, so if I do get chance to write, then I can.  As it is, there will be over 7 hours on the plane so, that may be a chance to get some things down . . .maybe. 

So, it's not good when there's nothing new to read.  It's not good when I don't have time to write.  I miss it. In many ways.  But sometimes, as with everything, "life" gets in the way.  That is the reality.  That is even the reality with Ds, with FLRs with whatever relationship anyone may have.  Reality happens. Reality needs to be dealt with.  We can't just avoid it. 

But it will pass.



02 May 2011

And it's not enough.

And you beg.  But it's not enough. 

And the more you beg, the more my sadism is sated.  The more I want to hurt you.  And you begin to beg and plead and your breathing is heavy and you look at me with pleading eyes.

But still it's not enough.

And I want to hurt you.

And I want to slap your face, making you look up at me after each slap and hearing you say "thank you" each and every time. And I want to do it again and again, making your cheek blazing red and that it takes you longer and longer each time for you to meet my gaze.  And your slowness makes me mad and it makes me want to hurt you all the more, so I hit you harder. And you beg even more and still it's not enough.

You are knelt on the floor, your hands are cuffed behind you. And I am stood before you looking at you, watching you, feeling you, hurting you. And I am calling you names and every time I call you a name your cock twitches at the humiliation. 

And you are hurt. And you are scared. And you are begging for me to stop.  And the more you beg. The more I want to hurt you.

And I stand there looking down at you, listening to you beg and plead and cry.  And I am calling you a slut. And I am calling you a whore. And I am calling you a pathetic fucking bitch and with every name there is a sigh. With every name there is an involuntary reaction from you body. And with every name your eyes glaze over just that little bit more.

And I bring your face up to look at mine with my hand under your chin. 

And I stop. And watch you. Your eyes glazing. 

And I place my hand on the back of your head pulling it forward. Leaning forward I bring you closer to my mouth and I cover it with my lips.  And I am kissing you. Devouring you. And I am biting and sucking on your lips. And I know it hurts. And I can feel you wince. And I can feel you try to pull away. And still you look at me, your eyes not breaking the pleading stare. And I kiss you harder. And I suck harder on your lips and I can feel them begin to swell beneath my own.  And I am kissing you. And I am eating you. And I am devouring you.

And I want to hurt you some more. And I want to hear you beg. And I want to see you cry. And the beast is raging and the more you beg, the more the beast rages.  And the more you cry, the more you plead, the more the beast wants to come out and hurt you and take you and break you.

I push you back away from me, and you lose your balance almost toppling over. And I laugh. And I make you crawl across the room on your bare knees, the coldness of the floor on your knees being felt with every inch.  And I tell you that you need to fetch me the paddle that is on the side. And I tell you that you're going too slow. So you crawl faster. And seeing you there crawling away from me, your arse on display, makes me want to hurt it, to make it red. It makes me want to mark it. Mark you. And it makes me want to fuck you there and then. 

And you bring the paddle in your mouth with difficulty and I laugh at your struggles as you crawl back across the floor. And you are trying so hard to keep it in the grip of your mouth, your lips still swollen from my kiss.  And you are gripping it as hard as you can and there's saliva running down over your chin and I hear you suck as you try to stop yourself dribbling so much. And you stop before me on your knees and lift your head up towards me.

And still your eyes are begging and pleading. And your breathing is heavy and deep.  You kneel back at my feet, waiting. Waiting to be told what to do next.

Except I do not speak to you. Reaching down I remove the paddle from your mouth as you move your jaw as you can feel the release of the weight that had been in your mouth.  And I uncuff your wrists. And you are embarrassed at the amount of saliva all over your face and go to reach up to wipe it with your cuffed hands.  I slap your hand away sharply bringing my hand back across your cheek.  And you draw a sharp intake of breath. And you look at me with pleading eyes.

And I know that you want me to hurt you.

And I know that you want to beg.

But you know how much that begging makes me want to hurt you. And when you beg to stop it just makes me want to hurt you all the more.  And you know that I don't like "fake" begging, that I don't like it when it is not genuine and real and felt. And you know that you need to convince me and that if it isn't real and felt that I will stop and walk away.

And I tell you to fucking beg.

To beg me to hurt you and then knowing that you will be soon begging me to stop. And you present your naked arse to me. Your head down near to the floor and you cry out as the wooden paddle makes contact with your bareness.

And you beg me to hurt you. Beg me to hit you harder. And the more you beg, the harder I do it. And then you are pleading, pleading for me to stop, crying with the pain. And your skin is getting redder and redder.

And your pleading is getting louder.

And you begin to cry, and the sobs are getting louder. And you don't know whether to beg to be hurt or to beg me to stop.

And I laugh at you at your confusion of what you are begging for. And tell you to beg properly. And still you don't know what you really want to beg for. I continue to paddle the cheeks of your arse, the back of your thighs and your lack of focus moves into the realms of confusion. And your begging comes out in gasps between the sobs that engulf your body.

"Fucking beg properly" I tell you. You beg over and over, "please hurt me" "please don't hurt me" and I tell you to make up your mind and for you to convince me what it is you really want, and at that point I know that you don't know what you really want.

And as you're begging I tell you that I don't believe you. That it's not enough.

And you are crying so hard, and there's saliva coming out of your mouth, and your nose is running all over the place and I reach down, bringing your eyes up to look at mine and I see that you have drifted. And your cock is hard and betrays your body. And I want to hurt you even more but know that you cannot beg to stop and you cannot beg for more. And that you are there on the floor beautifully broken.

And I bring you close into my body and I am holding you as your body is wracked with sobs.

And I'm holding you close. And I am bringing you down, stroking your head, gently pushing the hair away from your face. And I am wiping the tears that are falling from your eyes. 

And you are looking at me with more focus now.

And I continue stroking your face as your body begins to calm down and the sobs turn into sniffles as your head rests upon my breast. And your breathing slows down and becomes calmer.

And you look at me with those most beautiful eyes that you have and as I see you smile, I know that you are back.