Sometimes, it's just a cigar

This is our truth, tell us yours

Never the straight path

This is a post from almost 3 years ago, made in my personal online journal. It reminds me that learning to like myself has been a slow but wonderful journey. We can never make others like themselves, but we can accept there is no right way to do so. What matters is reaching that place of self love and self acceptance. The piece contains references to sex and periods. Content note for child abuse.

I have had cause to ponder this today on how confessional I intend this blog to be. I have no problem portraying my sexuality . I love masturbating on cam (as I did, under order tonight,making the orgasm even better). I have used wine bottles, vibes, bananas, carrots, cucumbers. I will happily share my fantasies and desires.For me being told you are just how I imagined you is the highest praise after ”Good Girl”.

But that is the area I am comfortable sharing, since I discovered chatrooms I have been naked in them, I enjoy the attention, the sexual tension. I am a show off, and knowing I turn men on turns me on. I am less comfortable sharing my journey, how I got to be the happy sub I am today.

This is only on my mind because I am considering how much sharing might help others, might move forward a debate that needs to be had.

I had a childhood that in certain respects others might find shocking, and which they might decide was the reason I am a submissive and a masochist. Actually the things that happened to me as a child may have shaped me, I may have learnt pleasures and pains years before the expected age, but most of the impact has been in coping with being made aware at 12 that those actions would no longer occur.

Picture a girl child , on the cusp of womanhood, confused, unable to understand why she is no longer attractive, unable to create those sensations within her body. How does she react? How does the world react?

One way she reacts is by hating those changes occurring within her body. Until a year ago I hid my periods, considering them my dirty little secret. I told no one when they had started, and my life is full of embarrassing moments when I came on and had to hide blood stained clothing.

Then,one day my Master casually wiped away my blood, commenting that my period must have started before he pushed his cock into my arse.

You know nothing about acceptance until a man does that, and in doing so wipes away the years of hating being a woman.

There have been therapists, group therapy, years of trying to understand the pain and depression. But none of these help when the survivor is still trying to please, still trying to say the right thing, to be the perfect child.

If people really cared about those who were abused as children they would drop their prejudices and preconceptions and open their ears and minds. Until that happens there will be children too afraid to say what is happening, for a number of reasons, and unable to say what is really causing them pain.

People want to hear it was horrible, they do not want to hear it made you feel special. True acceptance can only come when we are willing to listen.


3 comments on “Never the straight path

  1. aformersexworker
    April 7, 2014

    Child abuse is an abomination that should never happen, but it will always happen to someone and until we are open to accepting the truth as that child tells us, we are not accepting that child at all, just a person we would prefer that child to be instead, and without acceptance there can be no healing at all.

    Maybe you wouldn’t be a submissive and a masochist if real healing were available to you? But we will never know and as long as you are happy it doesn’t really matter.


    • i see the idea of healing as kind of a false god, we learn what we can change, what we cant and how to be content with that. I am very content with my life 🙂


    • cartertheblogger
      April 9, 2014

      One of the happy coincidences of my sharing this blog with WaitingGirl is that I also experienced sexual encounters whilst under-age that were abusive. Unlike my lovely co-blogger, I am a sadist and dominant. I realise that the plural of anecdote is not data but we’re neither of us good evidence for the proposition that a cock up your arse at an early age shapes your sexual tastes or roles in later life.
      Like her I share the view that ‘healing’ and ‘closure’ are unhealthy concepts in relation to our pasts – in fact I’d go so far as to say that people offering ‘closure’ are the late twentieth century equivalent of nineteenth century frauds like Kellogg who told people that all their troubles would be better if only they had regular bowel movements.


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This entry was posted on April 7, 2014 by in Uncategorized and tagged , , , .

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