Every Vibrator’s PR: Look at these Multiple Settings!!
Please comment and tell me if this is just me, but…One setting is what people are looking for in a vibrator. Figure out what works for you and go with it. Me, personally: varying settings of nothing but solid vibration. (Generally setting one to different levels of +!!!) .
This is 100% just me, but if I accidentally hit the wrong button and am suddenly switched to beeps of vibration, or slow escalation of slow to high vibration: No! I want my vibe engaging my clit while my brain gets me to climax. Varied vibration distracts completely and ruins what I’m doing. Again, for ME. I would love to read about ladies getting off to the other settings, just so I could understand it….But, for me….
12 settings of different sets of pulsation on one device is beyond comprehension of being useful to most women. Legit all I care about is the strength and trustworthiness of my main, first setting, solid vibe.
What We Need, As Sex Toy Consumers
Some standard classification of different vibe settings. Manufacturers and inventors to only focus on one setting per toy. For those who are into variation: Some type of setting to set your own pattern.
Honestly, whatever. Anything other than me shopping and passing over your items because the focus in the description is all over the multitude of settings. Not to mention, if some of the juice of the toy is lost because of the other settings….no thanks.
Being unsure if you’re ready to physically commit to sleeping with someone.
Having cultural (often religious) beliefs that war in your mind against what your body may possibly want to experience.
Feeling uncomfortable with someone pressuring you to act physically before you are ready, as you try to weigh the sensations in and desires of your body versus what you think will be best for you, emotionally and mentally.
Being Ace Is:
Being 100% physically certain you do not want to sleep with someone.
People thinking you are making a snap decision about the sexual value of a potential sexual partner, when in actuality there is no decision because your body is not sexually responding.
Even the smallest of sexual overtures feeling (fairly or not) like a step too far. Again, there is no question. If your body is not sexually reacting, the answer is no. Period. You are uncomfortable with hurting the other person’s feelings because they expected your body to react in a certain way that it did not. You know the best thing for you emotionally and mentally is to not be touched in that way by that person at that time.
Being Demisexual Is Not:
“I am just getting to know this person, so I’m not ready to trust them with my body and my sexual desires.”
“I am now emotionally comfortable enough with this person to share my body and my sexual feelings with them.”
Being Demisexual Is:
“I’ve know this person for a very long time, and I do really, truly care about them. And, because I’ve been burned for it before, I am very aware they want more from this relationship….But my body still does not feel that way….And friendships are so, so, so important to me, and once again one will be ruined because my body is not responding that way….and I hate that I’m like this, because this person is wonderful and I don’t want to hurt them, but I inevitably will because they will take my lack of response as a judgment when really I’m just ace, and my body only rarely does that.”
“I’ve known this person for a very long time, and holy shit!! I think I actually want to have sex with them!!!! This is what ‘normal‘ people feel like when they like someone!!!! I’M DOING IT!!! MY BODY IS FEELING THE THING!!!!!”
(And, in my case, as an ace person who does enjoy sexual sensations on my own, “TAKE ME NOW!!!! I WANT ALL THE FEELS AND SENSATIONS!!!!!”)
I self improved greatly over 2018. I learned many things that, going forward, will help me become a better and a stronger person. I learned so much about self care, and I got myself back on my feet after two to three years of really, really succumbing to the many terrible things that had been happening in my life, out of my control.
But at the end of the year I had to be in contact with my former Sir. This was due to a third party’s unexpected health condition. I had been almost entirely out of touch with him since February of 2018, primarily because he is now seriously dating a much younger woman, and I have lost a lot of respect for him. It’s cliché, of course, but now it’s also my life…
Just to explain: It was difficult for me when he was dating someone whose merit I could see, but I accepted it and moved forward. It took a while, but I was ok because I could maintain respect for him at a distance. However, as is his way, when that previous (post-me) relationship ended, he wormed his way back into my heart. And then, after we had become emotionally entangled again, the extent of his relationship with this young girl became apparent, as did the fact that he had entirely emotionally devastated the post-me girlfriend by constantly cheating on her with this child. I could write a novel about all of this, but that’s not what we’re here for.
I understand now that, throughout 2018, I was merely ignoring all of my emotional trauma surrounding him rather than ACTUALLY dealing with it. I have achieved a lot this past year, and thank god…maybe it will give me the strength to now look inward and try and clean up the disaster left in his wake. I should, and hope I will continue to, use this blog for those purposes.
While away from home and in small amounts of contact with Former Sir, I began having panic attacks again, as well as that constant state of anxiety that leaves you exhausted beyond belief. For me, this is very dangerous. This state can lead to (capitalized, serious business) Clinical Depression for me.
I began online therapy again. I’ve been working away at the seemingly impossible task of addressing my heart-wounds. Through this I have recently come to realize that a big part of my problem is that I can’t forgive him, while I have a desire to do so. I want things to be fine so I can move on, but that feels like accepting how little value he once placed on me. There is a war in my mind that exists exclusively because of the duality of his nature and his penchant for deception.
There’s no answer to this right now. As I said, I’m working on it with a therapist, and I’m writing. I’m dedicating energy to untangling this mess of emotions myself. My panic has subsided, though my anxiety overall is still greater than it was.
Peace and Joy
I am also now focusing on really getting in touch with what brings me tangible joy. For a long in my life I have been focused either on other people and their emotions, or on dealing with my own negative emotions. I need to get back in touch with the things that can make me smile. In that regard, I hope that forthcoming updates won’t all just be processing about him.
Specifically for this space, I really do want to try my hand at writing sex toy reviews. Sex toys are items that not only bring me pleasure, but for which I am very grateful and appreciative. Their existence, when done right, is really a beautiful thing that more women should know more about.
As I explore aspects of my life that make me happy I also need to think in different ways about being ace and kinky. I have always seen being who I am as a burden. That needs to be exchanged with better understanding and acceptance.
I hope to be here, on this blog and in this space, more frequently. I need to work to find a community with others who might be available in this space who can help me learn and grow.
I hope that everyone has been surviving well and that there is both gratitude and hope in your hearts.
My intention when starting this blog was to churn out my base content, establishing who I am and why I am starting this website. And then to regularly post both my erotic writing and my sex toy reviews. And to sometimes post more meaningful insight regarding my journey as both an ace person and a kinky person.
My end goal is the same. However, it’s going to take some more work before I can really churn out the deeper, base content regarding being kinky. Ace-ness is a different story, as I primarily feel nothing but positive as I explore this identity that feels so very right to me. I may find it in me to write more deeply on being ace/demisexual very soon.
The Problem With Kink
I am 100% kinky. Everything about my sexual identity is submissive (that is specifically what gets me off), and physically I am so masochistic that I absolutely need a partner that, minimum, is willing to hurt me some of the time. I have had very valid and educational experiences with kink. I do want to write about those experiences because I think they would be beneficial for people to read.
But my Former Sir was also emotionally abusive. And I hesitated (even then) to not modify that to “just a little bit emotionally abusive.” Last week I started creating a post to encompass the negativity I currently feel about him. I wanted to write it down so that I had a reference post to link back to within otherwise positive posts. I wanted to cleanly talk about the truly valuable kink lessons I learned alongside him, so I therefore wanted to cleanse myself all of the negativity in one massive, regurgitative wad of constructive criticism for the man I used to open and open and open for–softly and lovingly and also in (rewardingly) painful ways.
But what I was truthfully left with was the realization that he emotionally raped me, and that he (on one specific occasion) directly lied to me to get my consent for physical action–Had he been truthful with me I would absolutely not have consented to the kinky, physical activities we engaged in, and after I learned the truth I felt extremely violated.
The most I got back about that was, “If you feel I took advantage of the situation, then I am sorry.”
You DID take EXTREME advantage–It is not an opinion. And you were only ever sorry that there were repercussions for your duplicity and disgusting leveraging of my grief over the death of a loved one.
…But I digress.
I am in a better place now than I have been in a very long time. I am healing from what He did to me. I am, therefore, feeling better and better about myself…Better than I have in longer than I can remember.
But I cannot go back to edit and make the post I originally started to write. If I focus on that negativity I will not be able to focus on my daily life and existence. My mental health will suffer. And before I can make that post, I will not be able to make healthy posts about kink education and acceptance.
I wish I could do it sooner, because I have a lot to say about what was good. Ways that Former Sir did actually, really improve as a Dominant. Ways that I grew to express my needs, worries and desires as a submissive. But until I heal more about the extreme emotional trauma of the mental and physical violations he made against me (willingly and with intention, not within the learning process), I cannot risk mentally dwelling on him and our dynamic too long.
Note: This is a a personal essay. I’m working through things and writing them out is how I do it.
Also Note: My site is still under construction because I’m pretty new here.
The First Time
I didn’t consider myself a virgin the first time I had sex. I had learned how to bring myself to orgasm years before, and I had no hymen to “break.” Also, newsflash: Hymens Don’t Break….That’s not a real thing, scientifically….But I didn’t know that at the time. However, I did know that I had no hymen to break because I had (again, for years) been fully engaged (I guess I’ll say?) with my toys. Long story short, I was not nervous for the physical interaction because I knew my own body very well. (I would highly recommend this course action for everyone looking to have sex for the first time, regardless of asexuality, but I digress…)
The Build Up
After working together on a project for months, we had dated briefly while he lived in the United States but was already set to move back to Europe. Most of my friends, entirely unaware of my ace-ness, assumed this meant that I would sleep with him before he left. To me, his impending move across the ocean was merely a convenient excuse to not sleep with him. We kept in touch after he moved and, at a great (and safe, for me) distance, the relationship grew into us being officially, monogamously together. With the growth of the intellectual and emotional relationship my romantic attraction grew exponentially. I had the beginnings of real physical attraction to him. This was very exciting, given it had only happened twice before in my 25 years. AND this was the first time that the other person was available and genuinely interested in me. I could actually fantasize about him specifically when I was getting myself off–Something that, again, had only happened twice before.
He scheduled a return trip so we could be together. I was nervous that he was flying across the ocean and I would let him down due to my complete inexperience with another person. That said, by this point we were close enough that I rightfully trusted him entirely, so my primary emotion was curiosity about how it would happen and if I would really enjoy it as much as my fantasies.
The first night he was in town, we did not have sex. We hadn’t been in the same physical space for several months and my body revolted briefly with sex repulsion. Before returning to my apartment that night, I needed to excuse myself to the bathroom to (literally) vomit. This could have just been nerves, but honestly I know it was more likely that worry over repulsion (not excitement) was my primary emotion.
He was very kind and slept on the couch. While he may not have understood the sex repulsion factor (I didn’t, so had no words for it at that time), and he had no clue that I had never had sex with another person before, he is a very kind and empathetic person. He knew I was nervous and visibly uncomfortable with jumping right in and he did care about me a lot. He reassured me it was fine, and it was. He was (and presumably still is) a great man with very genuine integrity, and I will never regret him being my first.
Getting The Box Checked
The second night he was in town we had been physically with each other for more than 24 hours and I had adjusted to having his body near my body and our emotional and intellectual connection was translating. I was no longer nervous and I knew I was going to have sex with him that night. We had dinner in and watched a movie. I conveniently (I say in seriousness) had a cold and was congested. This prevented much mouth kissing…Even with the few I’ve sexually wanted, I really don’t like the sensation of someone else’s tongue in my mouth and I have no desire to put my tongue in someone else’s mouth….I honestly have a difficult time understanding why anyone finds it appealing. It’s slimy and awkward. Anyway, this lead to neck kissing instead, and that I do like, very much. Things progressed, as they do, and I did not get sick/repulsed during it. My body was turned on and everything went well. I’ll spare the details.
He woke me up wanting sex again the next morning, and that happened. My body was willing before I realized it, but I did become slightly repulsed afterwards because it happened relatively quickly after I woke up. Still, good. I went about that day somewhat annoyed that the world looked no different through the eyes of someone who had finally bodily committed what the rest of the world is so perplexingly fascinated by.
For the rest of that visit and all the other in-person times we spent together over the next year and a half, I was learning how to jump into and out of sex mode smoothly (that is, without repulsion welling up). It had no impact on the rest of my asexuality; nothing was awoken in me that made me realize how badly I had allegedly been missing out in life. There was a lot of sex, but I realize now that none of that enhanced or detracted from my romantic/emotional/hopeful feelings for and about him.
Aro (?) Factor
At times I found him too overly “lovey dovey” with me (English isn’t his first language; I never got a good translation of the term across to him, and wounded his feelings in the attempts, but…). I hated PDA with him. Not because I was at all ashamed to be seen with him (he’s very attractive), but because it takes a conscious decision before physical contact for me to not become sex repulsed…Other people around created too much pressure. As with mouth kissing, I do not like holding hands, for example…It’s usually sweaty and inconvenient so the appeal is lost on me…I’ll take arms linked over hand holding every time.
In short, even if there is a part of me that wants to be “normal” and have a romantic partner specifically for society’s sake, sexual contact is deeply personal to me in a way that I do not want exposed at all. (Disclaimer: Other people’s PDA in no way shape or form bothers me.) I honestly so very rarely feel sexually that I can’t cope with feeling that way in front of strangers. My ex wanting to make out as we slowly ascended on one of DC’s very long, subway escalators felt forced and exposed. It jacked up my anxiety and made me nauseous. There was nothing positive about it.
Lack of Kink
My ex was (probably still is) a very romantic man. He constantly wanted sweet talk and soft love making. This was fine for the very first handful of times we had sex, because of the novelty of being aroused in the presence of another human who was also aroused. It made me feel safe, and his tenderness would likely have (hopefully has) kept many women swooning for a very long time.
To me, it became very annoying very quickly.
Note to my former self: Your lover’s starry eyed professions of love and attraction during sex made you roll your eyes. Literally, you had to turn your face away so he wouldn’t see your irritation. Where his mind went during sex seemed so childish and out of sync with what you were physically doing. This was just a fundamental sexual incompatibility because you are an ace, and for you sexual attraction is not super connected to romantic attraction. This was not you being a bad person. I’m sorry that not understanding that at the time kicked off one of your major depressive episodes.
I know now that I’m submissive and masochistic. Being showered with compliments makes me nothing but self conscious, because my brain is more engaged with and interested in the physical sensations I am experiencing. I know, this is confusing in conjunction with basic misunderstandings of demisexuality as an orientation where you “only want to sleep with people you love in a romantic capacity.” It makes complete sense to me. My demisexuality is more to do with my level of comfort and trust in a person than in feeling romantically about that person…Romantic feelings merely help along my submissive desire, which encourages me to engage in the type of sex that actually, successfully gets me off.
Once, I could not help myself. My ex asked me if I wanted to listen to opera music as we made love, and I literally laughed out loud, and declared that it made “no difference to me if [he] listened to opera music while we [were] physical.” He was, perhaps to some understandably, offended.
Once, I could not help myself. He was on top of me working away and murmuring about how sweet I was (there was no opera music that time). Gross. Get it over with already. I knew I was not going to finish, so I went WAY out of my comfort zone (I am submissive) and growled in his ear that I wanted him to cum. Maybe that’s what he wanted to hurry him along? He honestly stopped what he was doing and stared at me, baffled….I did nothing and was not ashamed. He went right back to what he was doing before, even took on a pleading tone…and that made me queasy. He eventually finished and asked if I had finished. I said no and went to the bathroom because my sex repulsion had started to reemerge.
Once, he couldn’t help himself. We were in a hot tub with no one else in sight and he started to push certain boundaries he had never dared before. I responded with full enthusiasm. The enthusiasm scared him–there’s no other way to say it. Later that night he attempted, without discussion, to be remotely kinky. But he was uncomfortable, which doesn’t work when you’re me and you’re desire is to be dominated (which, at this point in time, I never had been). He never tried again, and there never was discussion. He never pushed the point, but when my kinkiness peaked through after that he backed down and seemed disappointed in me. It was very clear that he wanted things to be sweet and romantic all the time. It was very clear that he did want me to be more forward/take some type of charge of the interactions, but not in a kinky way. That was not something I was capable of at that time in my life, and it may never be.
On the surface, things ended because of complications with our distance relationship.
In truth, things ended because my sexual attraction to him went away, and that impacted my romantic attraction to him. While the two attractions are not connected for me during the act itself, they are connected in the bigger picture. In short, once the novelty of being physical with someone wore off, I didn’t want to have sex with him anymore.
Many ace people report feeling broken. I felt broken before I was with this ex, but I felt even more broken after I ended things. The return of my sex repulsion devastated me, and I truly thought I was not capable of love in normal ways and therefore not worthy of love. On the one hand, I felt extremely relieved when I finally ended things with him. On the other, I had never felt so badly about doing what I (correctly) knew to really, truly be the right thing to do.
You are standing on the edge of a great precipice, and the wind howls in your ears (all of your instability and uncertainty…every chink in your armor, every second guess you’ve made in this life). Everything, in essence, all the same where you stand as the hundreds of feet below where the ocean mercilessly, unrelentingly beats stone. Grey everywhere. You and the stones and the earth you are rooted to are the only still things in existence. And your lines are blurred–your hair whipping, your nose and fingers freezing as extremities.
This is waiting to experience disappointment. This, the black nothingness after dark admissions of hope are made. The moments ticking away as you become more and more aware of your isolation.
You’ve been here before, but only rarely. Truly exposing your selfish heart and admitting the dark and twisted nature of your humanity is not a state of being you purposefully sought, this time or the last. It was something tortured out of you with finesse and a deliberate calm that made your blood sing. No. You did not choose to be here…but the secret part of you insisted, whispering and whimpering for release from its bleak prison. Against any sense of reasonable judgment.
And you know as you stand waiting, alone…all for nothing. The cold of the wind sinks deeper into your bones till your teeth click together involuntarily. A clean, sharp noise. The wind and the sea roar now. The entire world and all of this life are too much, and you have an impossible heart. You could scream into the wind till your throat tore, bloody. But you do not.
Breathe. Clench your teeth against the chattering. Lower to the grass, feel the dampness of the ground, focus on green rather than grey. Tangle your fingers into the soft yet sturdy blades, and insistently grip as you did lover’s hair; not to uproot, but to steady. Breathe.
Take comfort in your stillness amidst the storm. Your solitude. You had no choice but to unlock yourself because you too wanted to understand what was within. That is strength not weakness. What is within is also you, and should not be so tightly chained.
Find your feet. Turn from the cliff and the cold and the incessant noise. You may be here again tomorrow. You may be here again the next day. You may be here intermittently for the rest of your time in this life. But some days the sky will warm with the gold, yellow and blood orange of the sun. The light will dance on the water far below and the waves will seem to merely stroke and caress the dear, steadfast stones. Some days in the future the wind will hopefully be a pleasant, soft breeze.
A long time ago I realized, probably for the second to the very last time, that my former Sir really, truly did not want to be with me. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t sure enough to make me any sort of priority. Honestly, I can’t be certain which of the big breaks this was, but whenever he broke my heart with disappointment it was similar. And he did it over and over again, unfortunately. I wrote this no doubt well past the part of our relationship where I was his primary partner.
This isn’t really erotica, unless you read some of my masochism into it, so I won’t categorize it that way. It isn’t really a personal essay designed to figure myself out. I read it now and it seems slightly overdramatic, but when I read it when I am sad I cry about it. This type of dangerous sadness is a part of who I am and everything I’m working through with this blog, so it felt right to post it.
When I say I am demisexual, I mean that in 30+ years of life I have only felt actual physical attraction to four people. If you can comprehend sexual and romantic attractions for one sex or the other, you can comprehend demisexuality/the ace spectrum. How you sexually feel about people not of your sexual preference is how I feel about 99.9% of all people I know, regardless of gender. All of the people I have been attracted to have been men, because their maleness impacted my romantic attraction to them, which influenced my ability to feel vulnerable and therefore sexual attraction for them. This is therefore intricately tied to being submissive.
When I say I am submissive, I mean (in the most basic terms) that I am aroused by feeling vulnerable, and by behaving in a giving way/with the other person’s pleasure more at the forefront than my own. I like to be told what to do within a sexual situation, and I am aroused by being obedient. I believe this is further tied to my being on the ace spectrum because I am so rarely on the same sexual wavelength as another person–I quite literally do not know what to do, and someone who is satisfied being extremely direct about sexual needs is very comforting and allows me to, again, indulge in vulnerability.
When I say I am a masochist, I mean I like pain. Honestly, I like pain as much as I like pleasure and the two are inextricably intertwined with how I experience sexual feelings. This aspect you may not be able to understand with rationalization, but, in short: I like very strong physical sensation. I’ll write more about this some day. It is obviously tied to being submissive, but in the context of this post it’s just a further complication (all dominants aren’t sadists).
Love Me First, then Dominate Me, then Hurt Me
What I need in a romantic/sexual relationship seems, to me, to be a very tall order when looking for a potential partner. Presently it seems to be an impossible task. I struggle on a daily basis with if I should attempt to find a new partner at all. If I do, it will need to be through communities of like-minded people. Nevermore will I online or blind date.
I have only had sex with two people in my life. They are the only two people to whom I felt connected enough to share my sexuality. The first was not D/s compatible, and it broke my heart and confused me and damaged my understanding of myself for many years.
The second was sexual wildfire to me. We were oh-so-compatible and I wanted to experience everything I could, and I stupidly went too far. Too many times I looked the other way and ignored the signs that he emotionally did not want to be with me in the same way I wanted to be with him, and he was using me, and I absolutely should have seen it and protected myself…But I must also be gentle with myself about those decisions. I was very irrational about him, but I cannot blame myself for wanting to finally feel the thrill of real sexual attraction and real sexual compatibility. I am not being starry-eyed when I say it seemed destined and therefore I (still) struggle to let it go. I feel that way because I have only wanted to have sex with 4/infinity people I have met in my life. And He was one of them. And once that barrier was crossed it was the only sexually satisfactory relationship of my life. This one broke my heart even more and my self confidence is still shattered thanks to it–Due to my own conduct as much as His.
I have a difficult time visualizing that type of sexual connection happening again. I am wary of trying to develop sexual and romantic relationships because I do not want the anxiety of discovering incompatibility (like my first), and I cannot survive another disappointment/blow to my self confidence (like the second). Given how rarely sexual feelings actually develop for me, I do not exaggerate when I say that a perfect storm may never again occur within my lifetime.
You Know Your Surroundings When You Live Alone On A Small Island
When I say that I know I need D/s for a sexual relationship to be successful…and when I say I believe I will always need an element of masochism to feel fully, sexually engaged…I say it from a place of experience. As a 30+ year old, I say it from a place of knowing my own fantasies and sexual successes and failures in this lifetime thus far. I have every confidence in my ability to understand myself.
I know how to take care of myself. I have a very healthy appetite for sexual release. (See: Sex Toy Review.) In many ways, I am happier not worrying about finding a new romantic or sexual partner.
Given the choice, I admit I would take something like my second relationship, only better/with someone more emotionally capable and genuinely invested in me, over pursuing a solitary life. Perhaps I can still find that, but I do not think the odds are in my favor.
I’m brand new here. Thanks for checking out my blog. I need to flesh out all of my content at this point, but I wanted to make an introductory post outlining the skeleton of my pages/what this blog will be about. Hopefully I’ll be able to start churning out content soon!