Tuesday, 24 April 2018

TMI Five things


This week's TMI Tuesday prompt is five things....

The problem with in me in five words is...

... I respond to things haphazardly

It means if you want to love me you need to put up with the Brownian Motion of my emotions and sensitivities. Some days I am tough as nails, others touch and sound and light sensitive; can carry on quite unaffected in an emergency and will be too fragile to talk to on a normal day... sometimes in the course of an hour or two. This must be more exhausting to live with than to live in. 

Five things...

...I want in life

  • my kids to grow up happy, healthy and accepted for who they are
  • to be accepted as an equal when I meet with professionals even though my status is currently just "mum"
  • to be able to manage my own autism enough to get by without relying on others all the time
  • to have family time and couple time without either suffering
  • to be able to explore my boundaries

...I need to quit

  • worrying about things I cannot change
  • procrastination
  • deprioritising exercise
  • sleeping late in the morning
  • making excuses

...I require in a lover

  • patience
  • a firm hand
  • a willingness to use me as I need to be used
  • someone who understands this is a journey and my needs may change over time
  • support in my vanilla life as well as in my bedroom

...I am tired of

  • being told I will get thin if I give up "x" food
  • being told my autism can't be bad because I manage to look and act "normal" in most circumstances
  • feeling second rate in my own sex life because I don't find my body attractive
  • not having time for .... well, insert practically anything here
  • feeling I need to hide my submissive tendencies to protect myself in the real world

...I will never reveal on social media

....never say never... but, I talk about my children... so I need stay behind my screen name to give them their right to privacy
   ... access to my bank account
      ...
         ...
            ...nope... that's it. 


Sunday, 22 April 2018

Elust, 105

Elust 105 Header Mrs Fever
Photo courtesy of Mrs Fever


Welcome to Elust 105

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at Elust. 

Want to be included in Elust #106 Start with the rules, come back May 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!  

This Month’s Top Three Posts 


Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) 


Readers Choice from Sexbytes

Katy 


Erotic Fiction

Game On Rites of Passage Training – Sensual Details.
More than Friend's: Chloe's video
Molly: The First Your Canvas
Sometimes I talk too much
His Dirty Rhythm
In case you didn't get fucked last night.
Gossamer
Cataclysm 
The Girl in Fishnets


Erotic Non-Fiction

Let's Play a Game
Abandoning the Sofa
Smacked around a bit
Fuck You [Redacted]


Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Meet The Desperate Eye Of Censorship
The Catastrophe of Ageing


Body Talk and Sexual Health

What it's like to model nude for art classes
Tip Your Artists


Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Life… grief, depression and disability
Living with Chronic Lyme Disease
Welcome


Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

The edge of glory
F/m Reader Q&A (audio with full transcript)
Teasing & Torment
Guest Post: Interview with Violet Fawkes


Events

A landmark event for MPB - Public Play


Poetry

-07.04.18_13:49-     Elust

Friday, 20 April 2018

Food for thought Friday: Dare to Bare







 These days, when the temperature is tip-toeing into the 20s and the sun strokes your skin...



At home, when I can, I like to go without clothes. That's not often unfortunately as I have kids to embarrass and in home care staff. Today though, the kids were out at lessons with the staff I could sort the washing and tidy the bedrooms while the lovely sunshine shone through the windows. God, it felt good.



Outside I am equally relaxed. In the peace of my own garden I am happiest in the buff. We have one of those little spa pools, and summer evening, about 10pm, I will shed my clothes in the kitchen and tiptoe out to soak under the stars.



Not in public though... last time I went topless on a beach was fifteen years and four babies ago. I love swimming in the sea, and thought nothing of shedding my tankini top to go snorkelling. My fiance was shocked. The thought that I might be ok baring all came as a bit of a surprise to him. I pointed out the beach was full of very minimally dressed young ladies, but they were not me. My boobs were just for him. Apparently.



We were much more vanilla and straitlaced in those days and now much less so. Just me and him on a beach, no problem. Last week a topless photo for Sinful Sunday. He was so proud when a picture of a rope bikini he'd created received kind comments and completely unworried by displaying it on my body.



Now, I just have to worry about traumatizing my children!



This sort of comfort in my body is very important to me because my body isn't the type you normally see naked in the media. Definitely not built for speed. But it's what I've got and I can either be ashamed or make peace with bits overstretched by multiple pregnancies and a few other medical issues.



It is a body capable of some wonderful things. Orgasms... mine... and sometimes, if he's lucky, my husband's. It's made and fed children and in the process went from a C cup to an F. Oops.



In public, I am usually modestly dressed. Neck to ankle. Mostly draped in jersey as I'm a bit touch sensitive. But I am always naked in that I don't wear knickers except on very special occasions (last time my best friend took my on an impromptu shopping trip I had to stop and buy knickers before I could try anything on). I love the naughtiness and the comfort. I love that no-one could guess when they walk past me in the supermarket, sit next to me in church or face me in a professionals meeting at school. It is a little bit of rebellion in a very normal package.



Nakedness doesn't necessarily turn my thoughts to sex, but access to my own body, access to someone else's, does. I love to touch skin with skin. I love to be touched. Love heavy touch.




Love the way sun feels, like a warm stroking hand, heavy on my skin.



Not so reticent about stripping off anymore.


Thursday, 19 April 2018

The cost of sexual assault


This is not so much a Wicked Wednesday… but despite mulling the topic all week, I have really struggled to think sexy thoughts about money.

Here is my trigger warning folks…I’ve just spent the day fighting the Criminal Injuries Compensation Authority over semantics in the case of my children’s claim. This has no sexiness to it, but since it will never make a storyline in a soap opera and I think it is worth knowing about I want to open up about it here. The only link is that is it about the monetary value placed on sex.




WickedWednesday






I watch people’s faces turn to “slapped with a wet fish” or “sucked a lemon” when I talk about what happened to my children. The thing is, they are human beings growing up, who I want to be happy and healthy. And to me, being sex positive means I consider their future should probably include sex to be those things. I write that under the proviso that I have made a statistical judgement here… if sex is not your thing and turns out to not be theirs, I’m fine with that too.

Today’s joy was trying to argue that my child was raped, even though the CPS chose to drop the charge against his abuser at trial. Here’s the thing. The abuser had been caught for assaults on five children. When you reach two charges of rape, among the many other sexual offences against children he was charged with, the starting tariff on sentencing rises. He had admitted in interview to raping my second child. When it came to trial, he admitted something like 45 of the 60 charges in front of him, ranging from child pornography to rape. To save the children from having to testify, the CPS decided that was enough of a sample and dropped the rest. They said they were pleased with the result. He got 10 years, with parole available after 6 years 8 months. 

In interview, my child described being orally raped.

We have made an application for compensation in the children’s names for being victims of crime.  Child number two gets the full award for being raped. Child number one gets fifty percent, because despite being well below the age of consent, the most serious sex act the abuser was charged with in his case was that he forced my child to penetrate him. I never imagined having to fight out the difference in financial value they place on anal and oral sex and on sexual assault where the one being assaulted is forced into an act of penetration. I never thought about what level of proof was necessary to prove oral rape.  

And the amounts are paltry. £16,500 is the maximum payout for the child they accept was raped multiple times.

We have spent upwards of £70,000 so far on supporting the children and safeguarding them over the past years since the assaults. Both children are disabled and have acted out on the new information they got about how friends behave to each other from their abuser… so for a long time have had to have round the clock support to make sure they didn’t accidentally assault each other or their other sibling, or friends.

We have had to fight to get therapy for them. In the UK, for children, the support comes at first instance from a charity who give you 20 sessions. As the children are disabled by their autism, this didn’t work for them and we had to persuade Social Services we needed more specialised treatment, which only happened when one of them said they’d touched their sibling. There is no NHS counselling or trauma recovery. At least not in our area. We have no private health insurance to buy in such a thing and services are very scattered. Our psychologist drives a 200 mile round trip to see the children each week. When a break came in her funding and we had to apply for more, it took nearly 3 months to get the continuation approved for a further 12 weeks. 

There are very important conversations coming about from campaigns about assaults on adults. Very important. But what actually happens when a child has been assaulted is astonishing opaque and the availability of services and funding astonishingly small.  Disabled children are four times more likely to be sexually assaulted than their able peers. As they cannot necessarily access “mainstream” services, there is often little in place to support them. Certainly, no financial packages. No go-to support services. They have no voice.

That £16,500 will become available to my middle son when he turns 18. Until then the state will look after it, as it depreciates. It cannot be used to buy in the support he needs now. “It is not for paying for treatment” said the disembodied voice on the phone when I rang to ask why everything was taking so long. “You can apply before he is 18 for treats like a new bike or computer, but it is compensation, not for services like a carer”.

So a million dollars. I wouldn’t turn it down right now.

Sunday, 15 April 2018

SInful Sunday...Night Out



Sinful Sunday
A rare moment. 

A hotel room. A few hours of utter quiet. Clutter-free. 
Just us, some rope and a pristine white bed to be mussed. 
Oh.. and a party where we were asked to come dressed as ourselves... the parts we don't show to the casual observer. 

I did wear more than this. I wore electric blue rope and for the first time in public, I wore my collar. 

Probably more on that later... but for now, just the image. 

Then click on the kiss to find out who else has been being sinful this week...








Wednesday, 11 April 2018

Travelling

I'm travelling this week. Travelling rather than on holiday.

For various reasons, we chose to home educate our children and that gives opportunities, like this lunchtime, having just eaten lunch surrounded by the beautiful naturalistically inspired Gaudi inspired landscape. I had decided the next stop was the Picasso Museum. My children thought it should be back to the youth hostel for an hour or two on their tablet computers, then to the beach.

We're three years into home education, so there was no real contest. Listening to two of my autistic kids explaining Picasso and Gaudi's work as though it was obvious what was going on was fantastic. However, I deviate...

Eldest child had put forward this was a holiday, hence the beach. I say this is a field trip. A trip...therefore a chance to travel.

We see a trip to the airport too often as being about the destination.

Travel is about the journey. Seeing and experiencing every step of the way and growing while you do.

Gaudi's work makes more sense if you see the process, from idea through drawing to complete object. Picasso's later art... the stuff we associate most with him, with irrational, child like images, makes sense when you see his earlier work and associate it with the changes in technology that were happening at the same time. Unlike great master's of the past, if you wanted a representative likeness in the 20th Century, you could just use a camera. Picasso said he painted what he thought, not what he saw. The movement in the painting especially made sense if your saw his sculptures, which gave different impressions when viewed from different angles.

Listening to my children speak about this art has changed how I will listen to them in the future.

Too often we rush past the pleasure of the journey for the perceived destination. Work, work, work... then a holiday lying still, then work some more. Exploring the beginning of potential relationships isn't about enjoying where we are, it's about wanting to be somewhere else... coupled up and potentially married...or at least committed. And then what?

"You have reached your destination." Time to sit still, like knackered holiday makers on the beach, then start moving again.

When life is a series of destinations, you miss the anticipation and planning, the unexpected sights and sounds of the journey and arrive as a completed action, not as part of a bigger whole.

I am travelling. I don't know my destination, but I am all about the journey. I don't want to miss a second of the learning and seeing and doing I am experiencing as part of that trip with my husband. equally, I have realised I missed out on parts of the journey I should have been savouring, back when I was younger and single, because there is no going back, no do-overs now I am committed with metal, children, a mortgage and a well invested heart.


WickedWednesday



Saturday, 7 April 2018

Alone at last


We had family come to stay for Easter. Which was lovely, but meant the Easter Rope Bunny couldn't come out to play until Monday evening. 


Sinful Sunday