The Collared Coed

Today I discovered new stretch marks.

Remember that weird fearlessness I had being naked in public for my first rope suspension? Um, yeah, I think that’s gone for now. I don’t want to be naked at Folsom Fringe.

I haven’t been a very good pet. I’ve been having a terrible time doing my tasklists, eating everything I shouldn’t be, not blogging or exercising. The truth is, I’m exhausted, worn out, stressed, and I keep pushing myself forward. Rather than be angry that I have to do my slave tasks, I just don’t do them. I adopt this sort of apathy towards myself and my slave tasks.

No apathy towards Sir, though. Sir’s emails and BlackBerry messages keep me going throughout the day. I slept in the apartment twice this week, but we were both so exhausted and out of it and just weird. I didn’t sleep very well, and I admitted it to Sir over the phone last night.

I just become apathetic towards my tasks and don’t send pictures or my food emails or my tasklists. My apathy towards myself is reflected in not showering, not eating right, not exercising, not taking time for myself to blog, think, write, relax.

I intern. I intern for a media/public relations firm. I intern three days a week. I’m a full time student, four classes, four days a week. I have homework. I’m a College Democrat. I’m aiming for a high GPA in case I want to go to graduate school.

Despite my apathy, I’m ashamed of myself. Ashamed of the weight I’m obviously gaining if I have stretch marks, ashamed that I was a good little pet during the summer and that now, it’s going to shit. I don’t know how to get myself out of this. If I were to be punished for everything I haven’t done over the last two weeks, I don’t know if I would be grateful or if I’d cry and hate myself more. I’ve been worrying over my punishment and how I’m going to react.

I just don’t feel attractive, I don’t feel like a good submissive pet, I don’t want to undress in front of anyone at Folsom Fringe, and I don’t even feel uncomfortable undressing in front of Sir right now. I want to cover myself up with sweatpants and my East Coast University sweatshirt.

I’m also a little emotional and spooked because someone in one of my Communications classes called me out on my collar.

I’m depressed and moody. I feel grotesque. I feel like a bad submissive. I feel like a bad submissive because I know I should be punished for all I haven’t done, deep down, and I know that I also really don’t want it, and I feel like I’ll hate myself either way. I don’t know what to do. I also feel like I’m letting my Sir down by being this awful.

I don’t know, I don’t know. I thought I lost my laptop power cord last night and I almost had a complete meltdown.

Ugh. I should just drink myself into a stupor and pass out for the night so I can stop worrying and obsessing like this.

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While I’m not really at all naked in this picture, my interpretation of “half-nekkid” also implies that pictures can represent other aspects of my life. Revealing myself and all that jazz.

This is me all dressed for my respectable internship position. I work three times a week and then go to class. I also quite like getting dressed up like this sometimes because then I can have fantasies where I’m dressed up and then get all disheveled. Oooh.

(PS: Secretly posting from work, sssssh.)

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I lost my ‘public nudity’ virginity at TESfest without a single thought, it seems.

I didn’t even really give it a second thought until I thought about Folsom and the possibility of MORE public nudity. It seems I shed my clothes without too much hesitation. I think it was just that I was so excited about… well… being suspended for the first time. Continue reading

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This one is a bit of a cheat. This is a photo Sir took during a session a while ago. If I can remember correctly, this was right after a caning, where I’m still clutching the huge red strap on dildo Sir uses as my safe signal. I’m blindfolded and gagged. You can only see the strap of the gag here.

(It works, as ridiculous as it looks. The few times I’ve fainted, it rolled right out of my hands. I tend to throw it at the ground when I’m using it as a safeword, though.)

I feel like this is still very revealing. I actually feel almost as revealed and scandalized as I did with the punishment picture last week. Me at my most vulnerable.

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i kissed a girl and i liked it

the taste of her cherry chapstick

i kissed a girl just to try it

i hope my boyfriend don’t mind it

it felt so wrong, it felt so right

don’t mean i’m in love tonight

i don’t even know your name, it doesn’t matter

you’re just my experimental game

just human nature

[katy perry, "i kissed a girl"]

I have pretty juvenile taste in music. I like any sort of alternative/emo/rock sounding stuff, and usually most Top 40 hits. Most of the music I listen to isn’t to Sir’s liking, (“Have you HEARD some of the stuff you listen to? GOD!” He says with a smirk.) so most of the time I just reserve it for when I’m in my car or on my iPod.

This song is just insanely catchy. It’s upbeat and provocative and pretty fun to turn up loud when you’re driving around. At least for me, it is.

I also think it captures the, well, fun of kissing a girl when it doesn’t really mean anything. I wrote earlier in the blog about the fact that I pretty much had my first kiss with a girl ‘auctioned’ off at a New Year’s Eve slave auction in a BDSM club. Even though I hesitated like hell when the time came to actually fill the slip out, I was actually excited.

I secretly liked being the object of so much spectacle, too. I liked the crowd at the door that appeared when the submissive woman was going to kiss me. I liked how intently both Sirs were watching us when we kissed. It was hot.

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Sir and I are doing it! He’s already booked my flight and our hotel rooms for FOLSOM STREET FAIR this September 28th. We’re actually driving to San Jose for FolsomFringe the few days before.

Heading down to Folsom? Want to say hi to Delilah and Mark? Shoot me an email at collaredcoed@gmail.com. I THINK we’re volunteering at FolsomFringe. We are also, for the time being, planning on going to the Citadel party Saturday night.

And yes, I’m having my scene name written on my name tag. At TESfest we had to improvise and cover up my real name with scrap paper.

It’s going to be an intense weekend. If I was overwhelmed with TESfest, Folsom is going to be nuts. I’m flying out Thursday night and sleeping in San Jose Thursday night. Then I’m spending the whole weekend with Sir, and then we’re both boarding the red eye back home Sunday night. Just in time for class on Monday .

I’m sooo excited for Folsom, though. I really am. I’m already learning new things.

Such as what a hook pull is.

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So, I’m a college girl.

Obviously, I am VERY VERY concerned with Facebook etiquette. I’m also fascinated from a communications major point of view, but I won’t get into that now.

I mean, on Facebook, I can add people for the most arbitrary reason!

I met you at a drunken party? Accept friend request.

I had a class with you? Accept.

I worked on a group project with you? Accept.

I kind of sort of only hung out with you once? And it was in high school? Who cares, accept.

BUT NOW!

Enter fetlife.

Now it’s SO MUCH MORE STRESSFUL.

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(Post by sir/MarkSwell)…

Last night we finally found time to get Delilah over my knee and deliver on our promise to the Friends of Jefferson fundraiser.

We only got a very small number of direct pledges from our site, but a promise is a promise.

Anyways, Delilah also had to answer for a several infractions of our her own over the last few weeks. We are developing a new routine where she is gagged and I go over her daily slave tasks for each day since the last “review”. She explained the rules in a previous post. So while lying across my lap, I used my laptop to go over all the email logs. For each day, I made sure she sent me her required slave reports and her daily picture. Of course she had a very busy few weeks so I had found MANY missing required slave tasks. She gets particularly attention when I’m missing my daily photo.

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I went back to my college coed roots Saturday night with Sir.

I got throughly, sloppily, totally shitfaced in Sir’s apartment.

Six shots of Grey Goose (the good stuff!) in a concoction of diet Sprite and cranberry concentrate. I pretty much binge drank, because I drank all six shots in an hour. It wasn’t long until I was doing my trademark “deliberate talking thing” (where I over-enunciate all my words so I don’t slur) and Sir was leading me back to the bedroom. Of course, Sir, being so ever helpful, had undressed me as I got progressively drunker.

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The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #145? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Bush Rides Again: Birth Control Defined as “Abortion”?
“The reason you tweak laws, redefining them or broadening their definitions, is to create the opportunity for a legal climate in which challenges may better succeed.”

First Time For Everything: A Polyamorous Relationship
“The only real trouble with being a triad came from the world around us.”

Sex Work And Compassion: Panty Tree
“I will never feel shame for being a sex worker.”

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