Squirm.
daddy
The Feminist Porn Conference was an awesome part of my visit with Daddy. It was super educational and empowering, and it was especially fun to be able to attend it with someone who is genuinely interested in and sensitive to the subject. And it was so cool to see what was going on around the world, in academia, and to feel like I was watching people at this really crucial point in feminist pornography really making a huge difference and really altering the landscape of pornography itself.
Not to mention one of my earliest exchanges with Daddy involved passing notes during class and we ended up doing just that about one of the cute presenters. So, everything comes back around again.
When I had to catch my trip back, Daddy called me a cab from the conference. We took a picture together as we waited outside, smiling. When the cab pulled up, we kissed goodbye. Before getting in, I worked up the nerve to kiss her again.
I smiled the whole way back across the border.
But what was I saying? The Conference was awesome.
Really.
The Conference.
Quotes from Courtney Trouble’s Keynote at the Feminist Porn Conference.
A powerful speech all LGBTQ people and allies should see.
I was blow away! (then I created this)
http://chicagospectrum.com/2014/04/14/courtney-troubles-keynote-feminist-porn-conference/
I AM OFFICIALLY A MEME!
Last night, for the first time, I watched Sir experience the sort of feelings I’ve been going to in facing our ethical non-monogamy.
When it comes to Daddy, Sir never has a problem. I’m not sure if it’s just that Daddy is a girl or that Daddy and I have been friends for a while, but Sir has always been encouraging and unintimidated about my relationship with her.
But, last night, Sir expressed that he wished I hadn’t stayed out so late with him, even if I was only out until 12:30. When he followed up by saying he might feel safer for me if he met the guy I was seeing, he stopped himself and decided he wasn’t sure whether or not he would actually want to meet him. As we talked, I saw glimpses of the jealousy and fear I had been experiencing with him.
And, as awful as that sounds, it felt great.
Sir sees two other girls besides me, though I am his primary partner, his girlfriend, etc. While I know what I mean to him, it is always difficult to be one hundred percent secure in my place in our relationship. I’m sometimes worried he’ll decide someone is better or that I could be replaced. And now to be the one in this position where I watch my boyfriend trying to figure out the security of his place in our relationship while I just sit back and enjoy is some selfish fun. It’s nice to feel sexy and desired and not the one worrying back at home.
What’s more, I’m hoping this will make us both more empathetic to each other’s concerns. I’m learning that yeah, just like I wouldn’t replace Sir with this guy, Sir won’t replace me. And he’s hopefully learning that my fears are not irrational at all.
It’s strange and alarming to see a body you’ve come to know in only two dimensions suddenly appear in a doorway and move. And it’s somehow comforting to be eating pizza with that person and find yourself making old jokes that now, too, seem to have abruptly become three-dimensional.
The degree of trust that Daddy displayed in allowing me into her home and into the full-blown dimensionality of her life was I think what kept me from simply being too nervous to function. Yes, I was still massively nervous. But, I was functioning. But we had talked so much about how tumblr reduced people to facets of themselves, and it was an honor to see the full picture.
So, to fill you in: Yeah, Daddy is 300% glitter and all heart. (I am the queen of bad puns.) And by the time we were doing makeup in front of her bathroom mirror and I was slipping into one of her shirts in an attempt to pass it off as a dress, things were starting to feel comfortable. When we settled onto the couches at her friend Cee’s club, the jitters had mostly dissipated except I got super nervous and accidentally walked behind the bar (facepalm) and then I accidentally (but fortunately) spilled half of my drink on some Montrealian attempting to pass himself off as a Frenchman (fistpump).
During the tour of the sex club, she grabbed my hand when I suppose she noticed I was nervous. When I asked her what a spanking bench was, something told me in the look in her eyes that I’d be back over it by the end of the night.
I don’t usually like spanking all that much. It used to be my go-to kinky thing to think about and ask for, but it’s so hard to strike that balance between too hard and too soft and I guess I’m just a picky thing all too often. But, I wanted to be brave for her in front of the throngs of people in the play area.
As soon as I got up on the bench, I was too shy to look up. But, I felt safe in her hands. She knew how to talk to me in such a way that both encouraged me to enforce my limits while making me want to push them for her. She knew how to handle some dudebro who wanted in on our fun (the answer is with total sass and self-assuredness.) She knew when to go faster and when to give me a break and when to check in. It made me really enjoy spanking again with that sort of new, fresh, exciting enthusiasm I first felt the first time I’d ever been spanked. I felt shy and bold all at once. I was glowing stupidly with endorphins.
Before I went to bed, I asked her for a kiss good night.
I fell asleep smiling.
I’m getting really sassy lately and I’m damn proud: A Joyous Rant
StandardWARNING: Bragging ahead because I usually don’t stand up for myself with strangers and lately I FUCKING HAVE BEEN.
I think it’s because I’ve started giving much less of a fuck about being kind to people when they’re being downright demeaning. I have tumblr to thank, for some posts that helped me reconsider the line between friendly and downright patriarchal. I have Daddy to think for making me promise I’d stop saying sorry for random stuff and for a certain something I’ll mention in a post from that weekend that I think started this whole chain of events. When I was younger, I was told a lot that I came across as unapproachable. So, I was taught to bite my tongue and smile in public and not to raise a stink.
This past week has been a really freaking saucy week and I’d like to imagine it’s gonna set the tone for the rest of my life. Because I’m getting RESULTS.
Guy in the liquor store who has repeatedly harassed me on the bus starts harassing me again and playing with my friend’s hair. Previously, I’ve set boundaries gently, but firmly, by asking him not to touch me, etc etc. This time, I’m like, “HEY. You need to stop it.” And so he calls me a drama queen and I call him a sex offender. His eyes got all big and he literally apologized and sulked out of the store.
I’m walking to work and a construction worker comes up to me and says, “this way, young lady.” And I was really not having it and I look him right in the eyes and snap, “I’m not ‘young lady’ to you.” And he’s like, “sorry, Miss.”
I’m walking home the other night with some friends through one of the undergrad neighborhoods and this frat bro a few feet ahead yells across the street to call his friend a “fa**ot.” I had a little liquid courage in me and I shout after him, “hey, you don’t use that word.” And he’s all, “no, it’s cool, it’s my friend.” And I’m like, “no, it is very much not cool. That is a storied and harmful word that you have no right using, kiddo. Mommy and Daddy are paying good money to send you to school so you can learn all sorts of big boy words to use besides that one. So pick a different freaking word.” And he turns and looks at me and goes, “…you’re right. I’m sorry."
I’m doing my mascara on the bus on the way from the gym to class. Some guy leans over and goes, "hey, I don’t think you need makeup.” And I roll my eyes and go, “this isn’t for you."
Moral of the story: I’ve spent a lot of freaking time being told that I’m unapproachable, unaccommodating, intimidating, when the bottom line was I should have never have been accommodating other peoples’ comfort and convenience, especially when it was making me feel uncomfortable. So, thanks, tumblr.
Joyous rant over.
Um, Daddy?
It was my first time going over the border and I was going through the usual questioning from customs. But, I was prepared. I’d memorized the address, I had my passport out and ready, I had my return ticket at hand in case he needed to see it.
“Have you been to Canada before?” he asked, checking my passport.
I shook my head. “No, I haven’t.”
“So, how do you know your friend, then?"
The long of it is that she was my very first follower the night I started my tumblr back in 2011 and I had no idea what I wanted from just about anything in my life. In particular, the kink stuff all had suddenly rushed into my life, coagulated into something completely indecipherable. I was starting to understand the idea that I didn’t have to hide and that I could get what I wanted, but both concepts overwhelmed me pretty equally.
And so when I found tumblrs like hers – of people off doing the things I’d thought were totally unreasonable and impossible and just functioning – I thought I’d throw myself into the fray and see what came of it. I followed a bunch of the blogs I’d been lurking around. And she followed me back.
For the better part of a week, she was my only follower, generously liking stuff while I awkwardly tried to negotiate being able to vocalize my sexuality. We exchanged asks, which turned into emails, which turned into detailed exchanges about the things we didn’t feel we wanted to elaborate about on our blogs.
And weirdly, she started taking on the caregiver/Daddy role without either of us realizing it. She listened when stuff got bad or weird or just plain old disastrous. When I was too shy to post pictures of myself, I sent them to her first to try to practice being brave. After she’d encouraged me, I’d post them up.
And, yeah, I had a high-functioning crush on her. But, more than that, I’d developed an honest friendship with a really admirable, open person who was on a pretty similar adventure.
Fast forward to this past summer, when I was in a tinychat with her and the topic of femme Daddies came up. Or maybe it was the fact that I wanted a Daddy? But there was some joking that had turned into a series of "but, really"s that turned into a dynamic we’d been unconsciously pantomiming already.
I looked up at the customs officer and blushed. ”…Internet.“
He smirked. "Okay, move along.”
Hanging with thinkivykink and NymphoNinjas at the Feminist Porn Conference. Loving the passion, sense of community and inspiration!
True story: We took this picture when I was about to leave to catch my ride out. I slipped just about halfway out of my coat to get the name tag into the photo. Heart was squatting and I was on tip-toes. Don’t say we never work hard for you all. 😛
So I just got back from my adventure.
I have so many wonderful, fun things to share and I’m still reeling from how awesome this weekend was, even though it went by entirely too fast.
But pretty soon I’m gonna be all:
See you all in a few days.
Hehe.