D. D. Story Page, Vol # 2 - 15, Issue 7 - A New Me Round 2

D. D. Story Page Vol # 1-15, Issue 7 Amazon vs. Smashwords, and Reflections

Today’s Atrocity

Today’s  Atrocity – Brought to you by Guns

Once again, or should I say, Today’s Atrocity  was there to greet me, as I sipped my coffee,  when I glanced through the few new agencies that I have on my Kindle.   Today’s Atrocity was not in the United States, this time, rather in Paris, France.  Another 12 dead, and maybe more yet to die, gunned down while they went about their daily routine. 

They day before it is a family, snuffed out by their son, take your choice, the one on the west coast or the one on the east coast.  What is the body count in the last few years, I wonder, are we wasting more lives at home than we did in Afghanistan. The answer is a resounding yes.  Between 2008 and 2012 Murders in the US surpassed the total deaths for the Vietnam war.[1]  For 2013 someone in this country was murdered every 37 minutes.[2]  How were the vast majority of these murders committed, why with firearms of course.

I can hear the NRA members already saying their normal line, “That’s why we need to be able to bear arms, to protect ourselves.”  I wonder how it is that so many intelligent people can be led and swayed by so few.  When the NRA, was run by hunting enthusiast, I had no problem with the organization.  But the driving force behind the NRA today, is small groups that are more interesting in playing militia than thinking.  They need their AK’s and Thousands of rounds of ammunition, to protect their little space in the wood from the Government of the United States, for they all know that the US Government is always trying to take over the common man.  Hell the US Government, can’t even control third world piss pots, with the strongest army in the world.  I am not worried about my own government, I am worried about my fellow countrymen who feel they need to protect themselves from it.

The 2^nd was written in the late 1780’s with the intent to ensure that the common man, could and would be able to bare arms, for two reasons.  One they needed to hunt to survive in most cases, and two, the Government had no standing Army, and it needed its country men to come to it’s assistance in times of trouble.  The 2^nd was not written, with the intent that the average citizen could maintain an arsenal at their home, that often makes them better equipped than many US Army infantry members. 

I know that we will never do away with the right to bear arms in the United States, but whose rights are being violated, if a background check is done before a weapon is purchased, or the amount of ammunition owned by an individual is limited.  No citizen, who has the legal right to own a weapon is being stopped from owning one.  Only those who should not be allowed to own a weapon would be prohibited from owning them, as they are now.  I would increase the reasons for not allowing gun purchases, to include mentally ill, and those being treated for severe anxiety or depression.    A tough stance, but it could be done,  those on prescription medicines for treatment of such conditions, are on file, and it should be part of a back ground check.

The simple act of requiring a background check, and the time it would take to do it, would stop a number of mass murders, that take place because someone is upset or disgruntled, so the go by a gun, and come back in a hour or the next day, and shoot up their work place or school.

 

Oh I know, people will get killed by other people even without guns.  The first murder was Cain slewing is brother Able with a rock.  But what it will stop is the ever increasing instances of people committing mass murders, with absolute ease, simply by pulling a trigger and moving the gun from side to side.  Single shot weapons eliminate this possibility, greatly, as even the best has to take time to jack in another round, or pull the hammer back on a revolver.  A true hunter wouldn't be effected, in fact it will make them a better shot.  A sniper fires a single shot rifle with deadly accuracy from long range, because they only need one shot, just as a experienced hunter does. 

I am more than happy to answer any comments regarding this post.

D. D.

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[1] FBI Data Table 8 Link: http://www.fbi.gov/about-us/cjis/ucr/crime-in-the-u.s/2012/crime-in-the-u.s.-2012/offenses-known-to-law-enforcement/expanded-homicide/expanded_homicide_data_table_8_murder_victims_by_weapon_2008-2012.xls

[2] FBI Crime Clock Statistics, Link: http://www.fbi.gov/about-us/cjis/ucr/crime-in-the-u.s/2013/crime-in-the-u.s.-2013/offenses-known-to-law-enforcement/browse-by/national-data

D. D. Story Page - Vol #11, Issue 3 - Books, The Gift that keeps on Giving

D. D. Story Page Vol # 11, Issue 1 - New Book Release - "LOST"

Where Has D. D. Gone

Where oh where has D. D. gone?

Has she run off somewhere new to play

I miss her, and her special way

Of helping me cope with the day.

A month ago she ruled my head

Five thousand words a day

Spilled from my head

Through my fingers and onto this screen

Now if I write, it is with some dread

For the words no longer spill from my head.

Now when I write, it takes an effort from me

Now when I close my eyes, there are no words to see.

And it’s not just my writing this is showing the strain

Of wondering when or if D. D. will take control again.

My desire and motivation for what I love in my life

Have slipped away, like butter on a hot knife.

My life is now full of quick bursts and spurts

Like the kittens I watch throughout the day.

Fifteen minutes of frantic energy alone or with friends

Then two hours of blissful rest, shared with those same friends.

When D. D. was here, it was the same but different for me

Fifteen minutes of rest, followed by two hours of writing.

But with D. D. on vacation, or wherever she is gone

I seem to just be drifting and stumbling my life no longer a song.

By: me

©October31, 2014

Suzy Q. Stories Publishing

AN OPEN LETTER FROM D.D.

AN OPEN LETTER

FM:  D. Dee

TO:  Those in my +G Circles

SUBJ:  Coming Out

Some may say coming clean, but I just went over my profile, and I have never lied about who I claim to be!

Some friends asked the other day, about some more info on me.  The poem that follows flowed out of me, so now you can all read about me.  I may not physically be what you thought, but in my mind and heart I am D. D. who I truly long to be.

I am sorry if I hurt, or you think that I deceived, but I have longed to be D. D. for so long it became very hard to step out of the role.  My page will remain, and so will my blog’s, to promote my writings as I had intended it to be.  What you have read and enjoyed in the past, has always come from deep within my heart and my soul.  I know of no other way to write, so I will continue to let it flow, and see where in the future it will go.

Delete me if you must, I will try to understand, as gender dysphoria is still under the rainbows arch.  I hope some will stay, to forgive my over enthusiasm, and not being able to let go of the role.

Love,

D. D.

+D. Dee

A Crack in the Door

I hear the creaking,

Of a rusty old hinge,

Could it be coming from the

Closet I’ve been hiding in.

The door is starting to open

The first time; in 60 plus, years.

Only a few have seen the crack

And the light it does spew.

And even fewer know

For sure what is true.

About what has lurked; in

The shadows, never knowing, what to do.

For when I was young, a dress up doll I became

My cousins love to dress me up,

Prepubescent then as our ages were the same

And I was more than happy to play the game.

I loved to be dressed up, in satin and lace,

Too young for much more than a smile on my face.

But it felt so natural, and I felt so right.

Mother wanted a daughter; she just didn’t know she had one.

Back then the terms were Faggot, Sissy or Queer

Transgender Disorder was not even a term.

You were considered then to be sick in the head.

And if you went public you might end up dead.

So I had my special times

When I wore my satin and lace

All alone, but so happy in my hidden space

Never ever leaving without; a smile on my face.

When I looked at the girls,

They never ever knew,

That it wasn’t them I wanted,

But, rather the clothes they were in.

I had no desire for boys and sausage toys,

My only desire was for women and their attire.

I met my life companion, who knew not my desire,

But willingly accepted my oral desires.

Four plus decades, she never knew that

Shopping was such an erotic time for me.

Or wondered why I bought all her clothes

Except for her shoes, she bought those. 

The millennium changed

As did the love in my heart

Still living together, yet apart

One unhappy with life, the other lost in art.

The one I truly was, did re-appear

Fighting her way to the surface,

Taking control of my heart and mind

Letting my inner self become Dee.

Dee began to express herself

In both verse and pros,

Erotic and naughty in her roles

On the Internet, dressed, in women’s cloths.

Never teasing a male in real or lust

The taste of a female was her must.

Her roles turned into stories,

Where from Suzy Q. first bust.

Writing at home and even at work

Wherever and whenever, she got the chance.

Her imaginative mind would take control

Her wet panties not the original goal.

Late in two thousand and one,

A story did begin to flow

Straight out of her heart

Straight out of her soul

Four years and five novels later

The life she dreamed of

Lay before her on paper.

It was decision time, sooner not later.

With a sixth decade soon to begin,

The decision made to purge once again.

Too late in life to change gender now;

A daughter and granddaughter, how to tell?

Retired in twenty ten, suddenly happy again,

My friends the most part women,

No longer trapped, in a man’s place;

Dee was making her ascent up the well face.

My thoughts of women, as they had long been

If I was a lesbian, would they still be my friend.

Oh but to make love with them, as only a lesbian can:

Completely immersed; in each other’s body and soul

Our hearts re-united in two o one two

With still only one true romantic between the two.

Her mother not well has put us through hell.

But has allowed Dee to finally publish and write.

She has been in my closet, but only so far

She has read some of my stories

She has accepted my alter ego

But only what I have shown her so far.

It makes is easier now that she knows

Along with my sister in law, who’s kind of always known

And now two more my dear Ingrid and Tess

I don’t know what to tell the rest?

I feel that Dee is the real me.

When I am the most comfortable within me

I am thinking, or writing, or dreaming as Dee

So I think that is the name I choose for me.

By:  D. D.

©July 21, 2014

Suzy Q. Stories Publishing

All Rights Reserved

New Poem by D. D. "Telling My Secrets Too You

Telling My Secrets Too You

Alone on an old shaky wooden dock

At the edge of the old farm pond

Where I once was a child until I grew

Into a young woman that no boy knew

Though a few tried, none got through

Well except for one, when I was twenty two

Five years and one daughter later,

He was gone, with someone new

  

I've come back to this old dock once again

To rethink my youth, and talk to a friend

A big old tabby, who I knew as a kitten

One who’s always been there both now and then

She listens without comment

Except for an occasional mew

No matter if I tell her

Something shocking or new

Even when I tell her of

My making love to you

She rubs her face against my hand

Telling me that she understands

She does not judge me

Because you are another girl

She returns my love and affection

Just as you did when I was with you

My time has come to leave this pond

For one last and final time

But I won’t leave you behind this time,

Come and live with me old friend of mine

It’s time for you to meet

This new friend of mine

I know you won’t mind

If we cuddle you all the time

But you have to give us our time

For our kitties like to cuddle

And play from time to time

Just like two kittens with a ball of yarn

By: D. D.

©June 19, 2014

Suzy Q. Stories Publishing

P.O. Box 143, North Chili, NY 14514

All Rights Reserved

Why Must Love Hurt

Why Must Love Hurt

I have hurt a friend

That I find so dear

It was no intent of mine

It hurts me in my mind

My own mind is in a dilemma

Brought by a call 2 weeks ago

From my companion of old

About whom not much have I told.

We had parted ways

Some four plus years ago

And had talked rarely in

Over a thousand plus days

She invited me to dinner

At a bistro, and not at her home

I accepted her invite, both because

I missed her and was curious

I found her sitting at a table

That we had often shared

Two glasses and a bottle of wine

Waiting with her for me to share

She rose as I approached

And kissed both of my cheeks

I returned both kisses

And sat at my regular place

She filled both glasses

And handed one across to me

“I bet you wonder

 Why I chose meet here”

I held my glass to hers

“It had crossed my mind”

Her glass touched mine

And a light came into her eyes

“To apologize to a lady I loved

And hurt so very badly and made cry.

I miss that woman I loved, and know

I my heart that love for her is still here”

She caught me off guard

Of that you can be sure

“What of your young friend?”

“I haven’t seen her in three years.”

I cannot tell a lie

My heart skipped a beat

I still missed her and loved her

But my heart still hurt too.

Dinner was lovely with wine and cheer

To old friends beginning to renew

But with caution on both parts

Decide to date and not immediately renew.

By: D. D.

©June 18, 2014

Suzy Q. Stories Publishing

P.O. Box 143, North Chili, NY  14514

All Rights Reserved

Concerned

D. D. Speaks

I feel a bit of concern.  It seems like the views of my blog are down, and I am not sure why.  Along with the fact that it seems like the drop in views seems like it is has coincided with a reduction of comments and likes on Goggle + for D. Dee.

As D. D. is my pen name for the pieces I write and publish for Suzy Q. Stories Publishing, I made a conscious decision to conceal my true identity from my readers.  To the best of my knowledge there are only 3 people who know exactly who D. D. is.

So I am asking if there is something that I have done wrong or written that has offended someone.  Your only way to judge me it through my writings, and since everything I write is original by me, and straight from my heart, and vivid imagination, and firsthand knowledge of life.

Many writers publish works under both their own name; and a pen name, as do I.  I elected to us a pen name for the works that I publish through Suzy Q. Stories Publishing mainly due to their erotic content only.  The fact that they are about lesbians had no impact on my decision to use a pen name.

I don’t know if this will make any difference, but I feel better.  As a writer they only way I get feedback is from my readers, either through reviews on Kindle, or comments on my blog posts.  So feel free to unload with both barrels if you so desire.  It can only help me; because I will still continue to write what my heart lets flow through my fingers

Love Yah All

D.D.

More Than a Pen Name to Me

More than a Pen Name to Me

Who the hell am I today?

Better yet who do I want to be?

Do I want to be me?

Or do I want to be DD?

Me who holds a pair of 6’s

Or Dee who is perpetually a pair of 3’s

I know in my mind, who I want to be,

And for sure it is not me.

I want to be forever thirty three.

An out of the closet lesbian,

With a partner and friend for life;

That is who I so yearn to be.

Reality keeps slipping back in,

Old enough to remember one Cold War

Old enough to remember one Hot War

I’m sick of war, cold or hot, no more war.

D.D. is the best drug I have ever known

And I have known and still know too many.

All legal in this day and age,

D.D. is the drug that keeps me sane.

So bare with me my friends

While I live in my life of fantasy

For me I don’t really want to be,

D. D. is so much more than a Pen Name to me.

© March 19, 2014

D.D.

Suzy Q. Publishing

A Bit About Me

Someone recently asked by my age.  Now that is a question that takes nerve, even when asked by another female.  You never know if you will meet a viper, or trigger a mine.  So I simply said I’m in my prime.

The answer is not a lie, or the exact truth, it is simply how I feel, at this place in time.  Old enough to know better, but too young to really care.

Experienced in love, hurt, pain, and most other emotions you can name.

Yet still willing to learn new ways to love, and give love, to not get hurt, or hurt another. While physical pain I can accept, mental pain I try to reject.

Young enough to share my bed with a person I love, even if only for a day, that’s okay.  To cuddle and play, hands and lips free to explore, to savor the flavor du jour. To respond in kind; paying no attention at all, to the words in my mind.  Sometimes you need to let yourself be naughty, to lie back and simply enjoy whoever is between your legs.  To let the passion soar and the waves of pleasure wash away, the stress of the day.

Old enough to sleep alone, yes that is also okay.  (Well, not truly alone, not with 5 cats living with me.) Alone with just your thoughts; with no temptations, to spark your desires, simply to rest, read a story, enjoy a glass of wine, and maybe enjoy to pleasant dream.

Right now at this place and time, I am in my prime.  My writing comes easily, the words flow freely.  Inspiration comes easily to me, I wish I could bottle this place and time, to be opened and used in a sadder place and time, when either I or someone I love is no longer in their prime.

I write about women in love with other women, this is my place and time.

Some editors call it fantasy; I call it romance a wonderful fulfilling love.

Two women in love, or two men in love, are exactly the same as a man and a woman in love.  Love to me is when two minds become one, and it doesn’t matter the sex of either one.  Humans are one of the few species who use sex other than to procreate, so if we do it simply for pleasure, why should we not share the pleasure with one who pleases us physically and visibly.  When it comes to sex for other than procreation, physical attraction is the main reason for the action.  Why would you want to have sex with someone for which, you have no physical attraction, or chemical reaction. 

Who give some the right to tell you, that you can’t love someone, even when that person’s attraction pulls you towards them like the gravity of the sun. And like to magnets the poles are aligned so there is no rejection, just the strong desire to join and bond.  They spout scripture as fact, based on their interpretation, yet as a writer I know how easy it is to make words say what you want them to say.  I remember an old saying “Liar’s Figure, and figures lie.”  Just look at some of the statistics the righteous use, and remember the saying you just read.  I spent a good part of my life making numbers say what either I or the boss wanted them to.

Now how I got here, from someone asking me my age, hell, I don’t know, maybe it was the other question, to tell a bit about myself, which I seemed to have incorporated in this prose with verse.  I may have rambled on, but as I often say the words just flow out of me.

© February 27, 2014

D. D.

Suzy Q. Stories.

.

Depressed Today

Depressed today,
And I don't know why!
Feeling sad and blue,
I just want to cry!

To curl into a ball
In a dark quiet room.
Pulled within my self,
In a dark quiet room.

Teetering on the edge, 
Of my own private hell.
Trying my best, not to 
Fall into a deep well. 

In need of change,
but who, what, where or why
I know not which one,
I simple feel the need to change.

Depression you rotten bitch,
Let me up out of your clinch.
I want to be happy, and gay,
Not sad and blue like you.

C. February 1, 2014
D.D.

Lost Once Again

Lost Once Again

I’m lost, actually I’m hiding right in plain sight.

Hiding from what? Hiding from stress…

How did I manage to get into such a mess,

Hiding from life; hiding from stress.

A life, sliding along like on smooth ice,

Suddenly turned; to quick sand mud.

Sinking ever lower and lower,

When will I stop; will my head be on top.

Back to not knowing; who I am or want to be,

Back to not knowing…if to be a she or he.

The sensations of chiffon, satin and lace linger;

Intermingled with the aura; of lilac and lavender.

I have a longing, for the feeling of another,

Another woman, dressed like me in satin and lace

Her hands gently caressing my hair and face,

As I will them to travel to more a sensual place.

I’ve been this route before, now and then,

Not wanting to feel the touch of a man.

But longing to make love to another woman,

Woman to woman; savoring her offering of love.

Totally unconcerned with my own physical need,

Totally immersed with; pleasuring her every need.

Wound together in a flowing veil of, chiffon, satin and lace,

Kissing and rubbing each other in just the right place.

©January 17, 2014

D.D.