Moving on

It's been almost eight months since I have written here on this blog.  So much has happened.  My life pretty much exploded. Relationships ended, some quietly, some disastrously.  I broke down into shambles. I cried a lot. I had panic attacks. I got depressed. I wallowed in self pity and loathing. I found out who my real friends are. I realized how many friends I have. I was brave. I faced fears. I grew stronger. I switched. I dated and flirted. I learned some things. I met someone special. I fell in love.

I probably should have been writing during that time.  That was the reason to create this blog in the first place...to help me figure things out in my relationships on this path of self discovery.  But I let the fear overtake me.  It felt too public, too exposed.  I already felt like everyone could see my pain. So I found some people to confide in and I muddled through. I might be ready to write again, now that things are a bit more stable. I still have many things to ponder about my life and the role of power exchange within it.  

With J, I am starting to explore the concept of power exchange again in a more calm, organic way.  We are starting to build a dynamic, but the difference with him and anyone else i have been subby with is that we are first and foremost partners, lovers, and friends. We are starting to figure out how to incorporate his natural dominance and my natural submission into our lives in a way that is satisfying to us both while not taking over the entire relationship in power exchange. Having a loving relationship that has some D/s elements to it is very exciting and it seems to be suiting me very well right now.

Release

I am going to need to start writing again.  I have done a ton of exploration in the past few months and it appears that this part of my journey has come to an end, so I think it will be a good time to get into the habit of writing and processing all of the many things I have learned recently.  I am in a great deal of heartache right now, and still sorting through what has happened, but I am sure I will have more insight on that as I think and process. I have one immediate concern that I want to write about today, the first thing I need to address in the changes in my life... my release from orgasm control.

 For the past four months, I have been under strict orgasm control. I have taken this aspect of power exchange very seriously, even though the one who had the control would probably not have known if I cheated or was untrue, as he didn't live with me, didn't witness my orgasms, and mostly just trusted my word.  We trusted each other in this game, and I loved it. The frustration, the wanting, the guiding of fantasies, the unexpected text messages to drop what I was doing to cum, the addition of anal training and masochistic explorations, the demands for orgasms in multiple and in unexpected places, or with tasks tied to them so they were rewards... I adored all of it. I loved asking to cum, begging to cum, thanking him for the orgasms he allowed me, and pleasuring myself on his command. I absolutely loved it all, much more than I expected I would, and it became a part of my sexuality over the last few months.

The control lasted longer than I thought it would. It is an intense daily activity to engage in.  Near the end, I think it started to get routine and boring for him, it became a burden.  Nevertheless, during the last few weeks, we did some really fun tasks as part of the O control.  I had a weekend where I could cum as many times as I wanted, just not in my house, and I documented it with pics for FetLife, which seemed to be appreciated. And I did a couple of creative photos of and drawings on my body in order to cum as a reward, pictures of which were also posted to Fet. A couple of those hit the Kinky and Popular pages, which was a huge ego boost!  The picture where I had to cum for every comment or "love" had dozens and dozens of replies, which was crazy fun for sadistic friends and voyeuristic strangers alike. We had a lot of fun with this aspect of our dynamic, but it has had to come to an end.

Some very primal and intense things happen with orgasm control of that intensity and length of time.  I am sure it is different for everyone. For me, it added to my obsession, my devotion, and my connection with my Keeper, as I dedicated this very raw and sexual aspect of myself to him.  I let him into my fantasies... to be my fantasies, I showed him my deepest desires, and opened myself up to the vulnerability of my sexual core.  This is a thing that I learned I should do only with someone I deeply trust, it was incredibly intimate for me. It fed into my exploration of myself as a pleasure slave, dedicating each orgasm to him, my pleasure becoming my service to him. That is a very intense thing to give to someone, and for me, it became integral to my experience and discovery of my slave heart.  This was not about being submissive for a limited period of time, it was about serving another person, with my entire body and sexuality, giving that aspect entirely to someone else.

Unfortunately, it had to come to an end, unceremoniously.  I believe the responsible thing for someone who has been trained in this way would be to be trailed off of the O control, but that did not happen.  As much of a mind fuck as the control itself could be at times, having it abruptly end with no communication at all is very jarring and painful, a seriously cruel mind fuck.  So now I am trying to figure out, on my own, how to take my orgasms back into my own control. Honestly, I don't even want it, I am so used to having another decide for me, and loving giving up that control.  But I have to put myself on a path of a normal life again, as I am forced to let go of the slave role I had been building with him.

My first solo orgasm was done out of spite.  I was still holding on to hope that things might work out, but I was hurting and starting to understand that they wouldn't.  I hadn't received contact for a couple of days, and felt abandoned, so I chose to masturbate, against the Rules and structure that was crumbling around me.  I felt a little guilty afterwards, but I was also angry at the situation.  As I began to understand the situation, that things were ending, and that this aspect was going to simply cease on his part, I started to take matters into my own hands. I am now working on controlling my orgasms on my own, forcing myself to cum once or twice a day, reclaiming my fantasies, trying to find delight in self pleasure on my own terms. As I am released from my role and relationship with him, I am struggling in finding my own sexual release again. But I am relearning what that means to me, so that maybe one day I will be able to serve someone else with it. If there is a next time, I will be more careful to who I give my trust to, because I am now more aware of how much I need to trust to share with someone who really deserves me and my slave heart and body.

Change and Acceptance

It has been a long time since I have written and there have been a lot of changes in my life, so I should probably be journaling more regularly.  I am at the point where I have SO much going on in my head about these changes, I don't know where to even start writing. While I have been talking about my thoughts to a variety of people, it still helps quite a bit to actually write things down to help get my head together.  Lately, I have also been making art that is related to my journey, which I am enjoying very much.  It is good to be bringing my life and my art together and expressing my thoughts that way for a change.

So the first major thing that is going on right now has to do with my living situation and thinking about what I want in a primary relationship. I am living in the house I bought with my ex-husband.  It became mine in the divorce and I still have a lot of bitterness and resentment wrapped up in these walls.  It is especially challenging because the economy has the house very far underwater so I tend to feel trapped here, because selling is not likely.  I know it is a decent house and I have worked really hard in the past few years to improve and make it more my own, but that is hard to do after living with someone for a decade.  I have had help from my family and friends and Damascus in reclaiming this place to be my own.  But I still struggle with it daily. I can go along for a while, working and living here happily, but then I am reminded that I am stuck here and it makes me unhappy and I sometimes panic.

In the past few months, Damascus has been spending more time here and we talked about him moving in.  I was hesitant but we thought we would give it a try.  I hate to admit it, but his moving in stirred up a lot of emotional shit for me.  I am still in the process of really reclaiming this place, and have never really had time entirely to myself here, as just a few months after my ex moved out, my brother moved in, and then as he was moving out (which was a slow process), Damascus was partially moving in.  Having him here with me almost all the time has made it clear that I really need to have lots of time and space on my own and am not ready to live with a romantic partner. I have frustrations of simply selfishly not wanting to share my space and stuff, and then feeling guilty about not being more giving and domestic. Not only do I feel the ghosts and triggers of my past, but I have been forced to really look at my life and figure out what I really want (as well as Damascus's needs) in a relationship.

I think I have been trying, for decades really, to fit myself into this box of what a good "normal" girlfriend or wife should be. I am child free by choice and while I have kept an open mind all of these years to all the people who tell me that one day I will want kids... I never have.  And I feel some guilt about that... I feel selfish.  I truly don't want to be a mother, and if I did, I found out last year that my body is not able to have a baby without surgery and recovery, so that really sealed that potential decision for me.  I also don't want to be a wife again.  In retrospect, I really didn't want to be married the first time around, but I gave in to the pressure of my both my ex and society.  It is hard for me to admit that I don't want these things that all little girls seem to dream of. But I don't want to be a traditional wife or mother, and I really need to start understanding this and stop hating myself for being who I am. I want so badly to fit in the "normal" box, but I don't, and that should be ok with me.  Others seem to accept it and even overjoy in being not normal, I wish I could.

I know Damascus wants to have a wife and kids someday.  He will be a great husband and father.  He is a good boyfriend and a good roommate, even.  It is so hard to ask him to move out when he is doing everything right... it's just not right for me.  We are still going to be together, but we both need to seek out what we need in our lives that we can't get from one another.  I need independence in my living space and to explore the kinds of non-traditional relationships that I can thrive in.  And I think he needs to think about his future and finding the kind of partner who is can fulfill his dreams. Our relationship is bound to change, as he moves out, but I hope that we can continue to grow together while we seek the other things we need.  I love him very much and this is not easy, but clearly, the things that I need and want are not easy or simple or normal.  And I am trying to accept that about myself.

Rules Please

It is yet another paradox of power exchange for me that I feel a sense of freedom when presented with structure, protocol, and rules. I think it is because while I have become a lot more intuitive and understanding of the expectations in my friendships, romantic relationships, poly and even some kinky relationships... I am thrown off by the expectations in this growing power exchange dynamic. Part of that is by design, especially as we poke around in M/s territory. Part of the dynamic is about me giving up control and not negotiating the details in advance, so I am left in either a state of waiting for orders or understanding what is expected of me and just doing. But because we are in the early stages, not all the rules and expectations are clear yet. In fact, most of them are not. They are being made up as we go. I don't seek rules to know what is planning to be done to me, really.  It's not about negotiating a scene or knowing what is going to happen.  I think it is about wanting to know my place, wanting to be sure I am being of service. wanting to know that I am meeting expectations. I think it is less about what is happening to me and more about what I am doing for them.

I have found that it is my tendency is to hold back, partially from my insecurity about these expectations. I have been burned by pushing too hard and misinterpreting the level of power exchange with others so I have learned to step back and be sure of what is happening instead of leaping in and letting it take control of me like I really want to do. I have made mistakes and overestimated the intent of others, and that's embarrassing and painful to feel like the foolish subby girl who gets all dreamy over misinterpretations. I have wanted to submit so badly in the past that it has blinded me into seeing a dynamic that wasn't really there and was not capable of sustaining my needs. And even now, I hold back a little, despite clear evidence of a potential dynamic, burdened by the fear of repeating my previous mistakes.

But it has become clear that this is definitely a thing that we are moving towards. After all of my worry about recognizing if this IS real or not, now I wonder if I can live up to the dream, if I can play the game. I have tasted enough to think I can do it, but a dark part of me doesn't know if I have what it takes. And my instincts are all messed up so I want to prove myself, but am too afraid to do things that might break rules or expectations, which isn't fair because I don't know exactly what those are entirely. My path has brought me into unfamiliar territory and while I am eager to learn more about slavehood and higher protocols and structure, it is very new and unknown, so I am struggling to keep up and understand.

So the three of us talked and they decided that I do need some rules and structure, and I was excited and terrified to hear that they are actually writing some for me. It is a relief in many ways, as I think it will give me that freedom to express myself and my submission better if I have some boundaries to know when I am being appropriate. I hope that some rules will give me clear commands and expectations, which could make me become very obedient and submissive or which could lead to brattiness, testing, and punishment.  More clarity will help me express myself, I hope, in the forms my submission and slave tendencies might take. 

I have some fear that I will not be able to meet their needs and demands, even in this early stage of development. What if I am not strong enough, what if I cant agree to what they seek, what if I am not kinky or masochistic enough? I worry that I am not... enough. Always with so many questions and worries and self doubt. But I wait patiently and try not to worry too much this time.  Despite the questioning, I am feeling surprisingly calm and content, and I know we have communicated well, even through some tough times, and we seem to be able to adapt to one another's needs and wants, so I try to keep that in mind and it eases the chatter in my brain, restoring it with some confidence that the fun and excitement has exceeded any of the uncertainty and pain. It will be good to know more of what they expect of me, and it will be good to discover if I can provide it to them.

Caged

So, I slept in a cage over the weekend!

I spent a few days at a beautiful cottage on the lake with some of my kinky family. It was a nice place, roomy, with lots of places to sleep. There was a bed big enough for Damascus and I. But they also set up the cage for me to sleep in. They made it all comfy, with a padded bottom and a comforter, and it was rather roomy for me to crawl into and curl up in comfortably.  We have been toying around with cage fantasies for months now, but here it was, set up in the room for me.  I felt like it was my choice if I wanted to sleep in it or not.  But I also felt like it was a bit of a test.  Was I really committed to sleeping in a cage for the whole night, or would I chicken out and choose the more comfortable option of the full bed? I wanted very much to sleep in the cage though, for reasons I didn't really understand, so I did spend the majority of two nights sleeping in it.  I have returned home and slept in my own bed for a night, so now I am processing the cage experience and what it means to me.

I have determined some things that it is not about.  It's not about any kind of animal play.  I don't go into puppy or kitty mode, want to have a tail or ears, or adopt some animal pet type persona.  I felt a little like a hamster, but it's just that being all bunched up in the blankets, burrowing myself a comfy little spot, reminded me of the Russian Dwarf hamsters I had many years ago and how they behaved.  I brought a water bottle, some tissues, and a few other creature comforts into the cage with me, which reminded me of how my hamsters would stash seeds and food in the corner of their cages. Those were just fond memories, though... I do not feel like a kinky hamster or other creature at all.  I can relate some of my feelings of being caged to animals, as reference, but it's not about animal play.

I also didn't feel like it was a punishment or imprisonment. I wasn't being excluded from anything.  I wasn't in "trouble".  While I don't think I would mind being put in a cage as a form of punishment, this isn't how it felt.  I fantasize about that sometimes, too. I like the idea of being bratty or overly aroused and being confined to my cage, not allowed to play or please myself, controlled and restricted to a confined space. But that didn't seem to be what the cage was about this weekend, not for me, and not for them either, I don't think.

When I was in the cage, I felt protected and safe.  I felt like it was a special place that I could be kept.  And that seems appropriate, as we have been using the word Keeper to describe his role of dominance. The cage was placed on the floor at his feet where they slept in the bed.  I felt comfortable, yet I felt controlled.  It reminded me of the place I like to be with them, on the floor, on my knees, near their feet. The cage was not locked by anyone, but as I went in, I closed the latch myself, and that made me feel secure and content. If we can go back to he caged animal idea, I think it made me feel more like an exotic bird or pet, like some kind of precious, colorful, wild creature who needs a cage for safety and protection in order to be kept.  I also felt like I could be a beautiful specimen, put on display and kept comfortable and content until it was time to perform or be shown off at their whim. And if we bring it back to humanity, thinking about being a odalisque or pleasure slave, I felt like I could be an exquisite human pet, an item of prestige, one who is kept for another's pleasure.  It is sort of an objectifying feeling, but being an "object" that brings pleasure to others is very appealing to me. 

The first night, I had a hard time falling asleep.  I struggled to be comfortable enough to sleep, which would have likely happened in a strange place in a room full of people anyway.  The metal of the cage made it a little cold near my skin.  I liked feeling the metal against me, but the temperature was just too chilly for me.  After a while of struggling, I finally got up to pee, as my bladder was bothering me too, and I pulled a comforter into the cage with me.  That put me right to sleep for the second half of the night.  I woke up when she got up and out of bed, then dozed off a while longer, and then woke up again a little before he did. I heard him moving and getting out of bed and I started making little noises against the bars of the cage to remind him where I was.  The smallest movements, touching the metal with my hands and feet, made little clinky metallic sounds that got his attention.  He seemed happy and smiled when he got out of bed, naked, and came to the cage to see me curled up inside.  He left to join the others for a while and then I asked Damascus to ask him to let me out after I dozed off again for a while.  While I didn't get put into or locked into the cage (we decided I should snuggle Damascus to sleep so he wasn't lonely and left out before I caged myself) I definitely didn't want to uncage myself in the morning.  It seemed like a nice morning ritual, to ask for permission to leave the cage.

The second night, I took longer to get into the cage.  I had a migraine before bed and wanted it to clear before getting in the cage. I drank a lot of water to rehydrate and knew I would have to pee several times. I wanted to give Damascus extra snuggles too.  So I laid in the bed with him for quite some time until I felt him fall asleep. But before I fell asleep too hard in the bed, I caged myself up again and then I slept well.  Very late in the night/early morning I heard the two of them moving around on the bed and it stirred my fantasies and thoughts.  I got very aroused and couldn't sleep for quite some time, my brain active in thought and questions and imagery.  I wanted to masturbate, but I would have had to ask him permission.  I delighted for a while in that thought. I wanted to orgasm, I was "locked" away in a cage in the same room where the two people who I am allowed to orgasm with, either by relationship or by permission.  It was a torturous delight to think about that.  I finally fell asleep and had even more erotic dreams.

When he woke up out of bed the second morning, I rose to my knees as he came to the side of the cage to wish me a good morning.  He put his fingers between the bars and I licked and sucked on them as he stood naked above me.  I asked him if I could have an orgasm and he said "yes you may", so I laid back down in the cage, spreading my legs for him as he sat on the side of the bed, watching me very eagerly finger myself to orgasm, finally relieving the sexual tension that had built up all night.  He looked pleased as I moaned and writhed, naked, clutching at the bars of the cage while I watched him watch me.  I did a few things especially for him while I had his undivided attention, because I know he likes it: I slid my fingers inside a few times and licked my fingers clean after I came.  When I was finished, he opened he cage door for me, pet my head and called me a good girl, and sent me up to the bed to snuggle with Damascus, who was still sort of sleeping.

While I had been fantasizing about cages on my own for a while and with him for a few months, I wasn't sure how I would like it in reality.  It effected me quite strongly and am pleased to find that my instincts about liking being caged were correct.  I liked it even more than I thought and I hope to incorporate being caged into even more of my fantasies now.

A Year's Time

Today is the one year anniversary of my blog! I have been scrolling back through the posts and pages and the changes I have been through in this year are really amazing.  I started the blog around the same time I signed up for FetLife.  I had a handful of friends there and so many questions.  A year ago I was ready to start to explore but I was absolutely terrified about it. I have worked through issues of shame and guilt and fear, not that those feelings don't come back (more often than I would like), but I like to think I am learning to navigate them better.

In the last year, Damascus and I have opened up our relationship. We have opened up our minds and hearts to some wonderful people. We have made dozens of new friends and have shared intimate details together. We have shared our bodies with a few of them, both together and on our own. I have fallen in and out of love and learned about the range of emotion and relationships that I am capable of having.  I have ended relationships and have have been broken up with.  I have learned to introspect and try to make sense of the jumble in my head and heart and to do my best to communicate it. I have challenged my sexuality, thought about it in relationship to men and women, and focused on what really gets me off. I have pushed myself to learn about pain and sensation and what it means to my sexual self.  And through those experiences, I have learned that it is an exchange of power that I have been seeking.

In the last year I went from being very modest with my body and clothing to feeling comfortable walking around in front of people in stages of undress.  I have been naked in a room full of people. I have been beyond naked: undressed and submissive in front of others, which is even more vulnerable than nude in a crowded room. I went from being too shy to have pictures taken and showing images of myself to regularly posting and sending erotic and exposing pictures to others. I went from being terrified of going to a play party for the first time to regularly attending and playing at such events, and we have hosted several of our own. I went from feeling completely alone in this lifestyle, afraid to speak up and reveal myself, to having a hundred and a half new friends on FetLife.

I still have lots of questions, but they are new. So many things have become clearer to me in the last year.  I know that writing and blogging has helped.  I think I may start sharing more of my writings on FetLife.  My blog site seems very public, in some ways, because it is out in the open on the web.  But it is a bit of a well kept secret that I think only a few people who are close to me read.  Posting to Fet, with all my new friends potentially reading, is much more vulnerable, because it is not just the world wide web, it's the people in my community that I am exposing myself to. I am ready to start living this journey out loud, sharing it more, and talking with more people about it, receiving questions and getting help with finding the answers to the questions I have. It's time.

Fear of a Word

Ok, it's time to face the big scary kinky elephant in the room. As I read the Code d' Odalesque, I realized how much it resonated with me. I loved just about everything about it and started to get totally lost in this fantasy of me in the roles that are in the Code.  There were a few hours there where I was blissfully wandering around in my fantasies, seeing all the possibilities. Things started to make sense.  And then reality started to hit me.  And I got very scared.  

First I was scared about getting lost in a fantasy world and not being grounded in reality. And then I talked with Damascus a bit about how reality actually sucks.  And the fantasy lives we lead can be good for us, especially if we stay aware about what we need to do in the real world and can keep the fantasy in perspective while swimming around in exploring it.  And that made me feel better.

And then I got scared again, for another reason.  If I can accept this role that appeals to me, the Odalisque fantasy, what does it mean in my real life and relationships?  Is this what has been studying and learning and searching for all these months and years? Is there anyone else willing to play in my fantasy world with me? And have I actually found those people? I don't know if I was more scared to think that I actually have found them or that such people might never exist. Because if this is a possibility to others, too, that is another step in making the fantasy a sometimes reality, and that can be scary as well.  And also potentially awesome.

And then there is the matter of that word.  That scary word that I couldn't even consider. Slave. When we would talk, she told me she didn't think I was a submissive.  This confused me so much, but she didn't explain more.  I had to figure it out myself.  I thought she questioned my submissive tendencies.  They are so clear to me.  I thought she meant I was simply a bottom, or maybe just a pain slut, or maybe that I wasn't even kinky at all, and that was so confusing to me... but that's not what she meant.  She didn't question my submissiveness, I think she saw that it ran deeper than it would in a D/s relationship. She didn't tell me, probably because she knew I would disagree. And I still might.  But I started reading this Code and all the parts about giving up control, all the structure and the protocol and surrender... it is starting to feel right, in this context.

I have a deep need to surrender and also to provide service, but only in very specific ways.  To me, a "slave" has always meant one that gives up full control, 24/7, of everything.  That is not appealing to me and not a possibility in my life, even if it was.  But what I didn't really realize was that one can be a certain kind of slave.  One can be a sexual slave, which is what the Code d Ode is essentially about.  Pleasure slave, passion slave, cock slave, odalisque. Being in service to someone can be very narrow in scope, without effecting the other parts of a slave's life like career, family, friends, and romantic relationships. This never occurred to me before. And so I never looked past the term submissive.

So what is the difference between a submissive and a slave?  This is a complex question and I think it will be something I will be thinking about and defining for a long time.  But I think for me, I am seeing the difference in the ways in which I wish to exchange power and interact.  As a submissive, I expressed myself in scenes, in completing tasks, in negotiating short periods of time in power exchange. With past Doms, there was a specific start and end to each interaction, a goal that was discussed and reached and the interaction was complete. I enjoyed those interactions, but when they were done, there was often sadness, and yearning for more, for the next task, the next scene.

But something changed when he told me that he was in charge of my orgasms. Part of me laughed a little at him, figuring it would be a short lived game that we would play, and he would lose interest.  But deep inside, I wanted it to be real, I wanted to do that with him, I wanted him to take that control.  I playfully resist and tease and whine brattily about it, but it is real to me, and I dove in fully and take it quite seriously, actually. I don't question it, I give it freely, and it feeds me day to day. When I wake up each morning, I don't question when I might orgasm, or how, or even IF I will. That decision is kept in his hands, and have eagerly accepted that, with very little fighting actually, for almost two months now. I want to show him that I can do it, that I want it, and that this is just the first step in the possibilities of a power exchange. I have come to realize that all might be beyond submissive.  That might be slave-like.

Oh but there is that "slave" word again!  It still rubs me wrong.  I still have ideas about what it means that don't apply to me.  But if I define further and say "pleasure slave"... that makes it easier to swallow. And if we switch languages and use the more romantic Turkish word "odalisque" then that makes it even easier for me to accept.  And on the flip side, the word "Master" gives me similar issues, as I don't seek someone who exemplifies what that role means to me.  But if we use "Slave Keeper" it is a little easier.  And then simply down to just "Keeper"... well that's a word I can actually relate to.  (plus it makes me think about Harry Potter and Quidditch! kinky goalie, anyone?) He does keep my orgasms for me.  hehe.  And I can see him keeping me protected, keeping me exploring and learning, and in return, me being kept to please him. Ugh, and I thought admitting to the terms Dom and sub were hard! But I think I am on the right path, and once I found it, they encouraged me and seem to think I am on the right path too.  I really did have to find it myself.

And I get ready to click publish and share these thoughts, and there is still fear.  Is this fucking crazy?  I would love some feedback here, please call me out on my insanity, if you see it...