Rescinded

photo source

It is amazing how sometimes my feelings can change so drastically over the course of a couple of hours.  Especially when I have a fucking fantastic night like last night.  Yesterday's thoughts came from a really dark place of insecurity and pain.  I almost want to delete that post, and I wish I could delete some of the things I said last night, too.  But I did feel it, and this blog is to record those thoughts.  And if I had them once, I will surely have them again, so it will remain intact to remind me.

Damascus helped me out of my tearful dark emotional void yesterday with some talk of perspective... glass half-empty/half-full sort of stuff (or kiln half full, if you are following my metaphors here). I don't want to feel like my life is in any way empty... that's SO not even true!  My life is so full of love and support and I would like to be more appreciative and grateful for it all, while still working to improve and explore to add to my experiences.  Hopefully, yesterday was a minor setback and I am back on the happy poly path again.  

Also, I got to flirt and cuddle with a cute girl and her boyfriend along with Damascus and Juesance and his partner, all in the same room, puppy pile style, and there were good happy feelings all around.  This is the fucking life I have dreamed about!

Insatiable Fears

photo source

While I think I am finally coming to terms with some of these newly experienced aspects about myself like my polyamorous nature and kinky tendencies, there are moments where I struggle still.  I think one of my greatest struggles about poly (once we take away the more superficial issues of guilt and shame that I have been fighting fairly successfully) is that it opens me up to thoughts of possibility, which can be awesome, but can also be terrifying.  My main fear is that I am insatiable. What if I am unable to be satisfied sexually, emotionally, and spiritually.  What if, upon examination, I discover that the many little needs and desires and curiosities that I have add up into a deep, unfulfillable pit of emptiness, which can never be filled?  Part of me sees this potential for emptiness and wants to stop examining it.  It is easier to want stop thinking about myself so much and turn away and hide into a more convenient life of normalcy.  That place may be numb and distant and empty too, but I wonder which emptiness is more tolerable for me... an unexplored emptiness that I can accept or an even more scary threat of emptiness that I can't possibly fill. No, the "normal" emptiness is probably not more tolerable. I have resided there for most of my life and that has been unhappy making. 

I suppose that that I should be strong and believe in myself enough to continue on this quest, believing that "the unexamined life is not worth living".  The last few years, and last few months in particular, have been a huge range of emotions, but isn't that better to live this life feeling it all, the good and the bad, and not just being numb and dead to all life has to offer? Even if I am continually seeking fulfillment without reaching it, perhaps it's good that I am thinking about it and exploring, even when it is confusing and painful.  The truth is, I am a complex person who does have many deep thoughts and needs and I am trying to self actualize, which is something that is not going to come easily, at least not without some practice and experience.

Type A

Venn Diagram of Non Monogamy :: Click here to see a bigger version

I figured that by starting to explore Polyamory and BDSM that I would be learning a lot about myself.  I guess I am a little surprised at how much soul searching it would inspire.  I mean, I figured I would learn a few new kinks or find love or attraction in new places, but it has really caused a full personal introspective examination, which was unexpected.  It has been somewhat of a challenge on an emotional level, but I am finding myself learning new skills to deal with these challenges and emotions, and also finding things that I both like and dislike about myself.

I am aware how analytic I can be about relationships and life.  This must make my loved ones go a little crazy, as I am constantly organizing and sorting people and experiences into categories. Sometimes my head feels like one of these diagrams, everything being labeled and charted as I try to make some sense of the chaos of life.  In many ways, in my life and work, I am very much a Type A Personality.  And in many ways, I see that as a good thing, and attribute it to a great deal of my success in my career, which is an important part of my life.  But I find that these same personality traits (ambitious, competitive, impatient, time and status-conscious, and controlling) which make me good at my job can be a hindrance to my social and personal life.  I haven't been too burdened by these things until becoming involved with friends and a lover who is different and more in the Type B camp. The personality clash has been a bit difficult on me, and I am probably using those Type A traits to examine it and try to figure out a solution to the anxiety it causes me.  I would like to address those qualities that make me high strung when I don't want to be and learn to be a bit more spontaneous and relaxed when I can be.

I have found my Type A qualities to be the most anxiety producing in trying to figure out what to call my non-primary relationships and my interest in kinky partners.  First of all, notice that it is anxiety producing for me to need to do those things.  Yes, this troubles me! But I understand it, when I think about it.  It's not that I need to have a name for the status, but I think that coming up with a name for the status helps me figure out how I feel.  For instance, calling someone a Friend With Benefits has a distinct quality of casual friendship plus sex.  When I started to try to put that name to a partner, it made me address how deep I was willing for my feelings to go.  Instead  of FWB, was I dating or in a Poly relationship, being open to more than a warm friendship with an occasional romp of sexy time?  I wavered between those two statuses for a couple of weeks, spending way too much time thinking about it, probably.  But I think I was really trying to figure out how I really felt about this relationship, as both descriptions felt sort of right, but sort of off, and both were scary a little bit. I settled on Polyamorous as a description, which has calmed me down and made my mind stop racing.  Which is a little ironic, because "Polyamorous" to me is a pretty broad umbrella concept that basically means that there is some sort of romantic relationship going on, but I don't know what it is exactly (and it could include FWB anyway). I guess I needed to allow myself to have a status of "undefined" to make me feel less anxious, which I realize is ridiculous.  But that's me, and that's how I am, and I can strive to try to learn to allow myself to be undefined too.

 Fetish Roadmap :: click for more links here

Kinky Shopping List

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Fun kinky things on Etsy! Spinning BDSM Bondage Wheel by bondsofsteel

Things have been a little cold and dark and heavy here on the blog lately, which is unfortunate, because it is not really an accurate temperature of the current state of the Anagama mind.  I am actually really happy lately!  There have been a few setbacks and emotional dips, but I am generally very calm and content, feeling less of the emotional highs and lows that I have felt over the last few months.  I am meeting a lot of like minded people and having really great conversations about love and sex and kink and poly, and I am starting to really understand myself and feeling more comfortable exploring.  Sometimes the exploring triggers some difficult emotions, which I tend to purge here on the blog, because that is cathartic for me.  I think I have had some of the darkest and deepest triggers pressed lately, but I am getting through them, which tells me that I am doing really well and am healing in some of those very dark places.  But yeah, it makes it seem pretty dark overall, I think.

So, let me try to lighten up and think about more fun stuff! Lately, I have been meeting kinky people!  Lot of really wonderful, open minded people who seem so comfortable with their kinky desires and willing to talk about them freely.  Sometimes, they ask me what my interests are, but I get all shy and quiet.  Partially because I am too nervous to say and partially because I can't think or verbalize it yet.  My head spins, like it would from being on that Bondage Wheel above (which looks both terrifying and yet I am strangely curious about it, perhaps because it is terrifying!) Some of the askers are strangers, so that makes sense I feel shy, but some of them are very good friends who I want to talk to and share with, but still get hung up. I know there are things that I am definitely interested in and know that I like, and there are things that I am curious about.  I thought if I wrote them here, it might help me remember something to say if asked again, if I felt comfortable sharing.  So here goes:

 Some basic things I have tried and really like on a physical level:
having my hair pulled and being led around by my hair
being scratched with fingernails, leaving marks
spanking with open hand, some paddles and crops and belts
flogging of the bottom and back
light grasping of the neck and throat
pinching especially nipples and back and bottom
playful light restraint and struggle

So, sadly, we did not get the invite to the play party that we wanted to go to.  I had been really looking forward to it as I have been wanting to learn about more kinky things that I might be interested in and I was looking forward to the opportunity to possibly play with some of the things above with new people, and (perhaps even explore other things I didn't think to list up there).  I am starting to feel comfortable with experimenting publicly, while clothed, in a playful and exploration friendly environment.  My curiosity is really becoming intense and I am finding myself really wanting to play and have fun with these things!

Additional curiosities that I have not explored much but that interest me:

I would also really like to play with rope and pretty ropework bondage things and would also be open to that in a public setting, but only with Damascus... I think we have designated that as "our thing" for now, although I think having a mentor guide and help would be acceptable.

Clothespins and clamps, Whartenberg wheels, role play, ball gags, blindfolds, knife play, lingerie and sexy clothing play, and I am sure this list will grow as I learn more. :)

 Bondage Arm Warmers by ZenAndCoffee on Etsy

 While I think the physical activities listed above would be things I think I could play with experimentally with someone trustworthy at a play party, what I am really interested in are the more psychological aspects of some kinky activities.  These things are clearly on the submissive side of the spectrum, which makes me feel vulnerable and understandably careful. These are things I would only be interested in doing with someone I really trust and have chemistry with.  Perhaps playing with the above things would lead me to find out a little about the trust and chemistry I might have with someone, which could lead to the other things?  Probably after much negotiation and talking.

Psychological kink interests include:

Speech play, which includes dirty talk, being forced to repeat things, being forced to say what I want before it is done to me.  Also begging.

Eye contact, mostly in forcing me to make eye contact.  Also mirrors, to force me to look at myself.

Exploring my ability to have orgasms that do not involve stimulation of my genitals. I want to learn all about the things that can get me off! Sensory deprivation might be interesting here, to amplify one sense over the others.

Restraint of the hands and/or legs, being forced to sit or stand or kneel in a still position while teasing, some physical play, or speech play goes on

Following directions, taking lessons, being told what to do, especially things that are somewhat sexual, like the dirty talk or stripping or touching myself (forced masturbation could be hot).  Failure to do as told properly leads to...

Discipline and punishment. I guess this is the important kink, one that is most private and guarded.  And I have specific needs for being punished, mostly in wanting the reason to be something that challenges me.  I want to be punished for being too shy or bratty or prudish, when I am hiding behind those things in fear of my sexuality.  I do not want to be punished for being slutty or sexual, I want to be rewarded for that.  It's tricky though, because is a spanking a punishment or a reward?  I guess it depends how we play, but attention to this detail is important, psychologically.

Orgasm control.  Either making me not orgasm at my every whim so as to build up to a larger one, or making me orgasm as much as I can.  Making me count them is pretty fun, especially when I lose count.

Exploring various types of power play and mental subspace and mind-fuckery.  I guess the ultimate desire is to allow someone inside my head to poke around at the dark bits and make me look at them and deal with them, while making me feel safe and cared for.

Kinky Chain Canopy Bed by TheWelderGirl on Etsy

Something I am still confused about is the intersection of sex and kink.  I think that comes from having or having had a sexual relationship with all of the partners that I have had kinky time with.  I understand that many people play kinky for kink's sake and do not require more sexual contact to be satisfied.  All the things I listed above and are most interested in are not traditionally sexual. I can probably orgasm from any of the things listed, though, so it IS sexual for me, just not in a way that requires nakedness or exchanging of body fluids.  I would like a play partner that would not have the expectation of more overtly sexual activities, but I wonder how that works and what they get out of it. I have experienced this already with one partner, but I want to make sure that he is not an exception to the rule. I guess these are questions I should be asking some of the people I am meeting, particularly those of a more dominant persuasion.  I guess that is my new homework, to learn about the other side of the spectrum.

Consent

 Pandora is the first girl I ever kissed.  She is the first girl I had sex with.  She was the wife of Dante, and they were my first relationship after my marriage broke up.  As far as relationships go, I probably couldn't have chosen a more difficult one.  Long distance, polyamorous, my first experience with a girl, and it turned out their marriage was not as solid as it had seemed... any one of those things is difficult in a relationship, let alone all of them to someone starting a new relationship after 17 years of monogamy.  Pandora was the first girl to break my heart.

She was very sexually assertive, flirting with me heavily online, as I was building a more romantic and emotional connection with her husband.  She seemed to encourage it at first, but would have doubts and insecurities at times, which I would try to talk about with her, with some success.  At least, I felt after some of our conversations, that things were acceptable to her.  Our first meeting was when they came to my hometown for a visit and it was a little rocky at first, meeting one another for the first time, but ended blissfully with all parties seemingly content.  We later met midway in a midway state a few hundred miles away from each of us, spending the weekend together, the three of us.  That was an amazing weekend, free of drama and full of passion and friendship.  Our third meeting, in their hometown, was confusing and troubling.  Dante got sick, there was a hospital visit, and Pandora came on strongly to me but refused my reactions to what I thought were obvious advances.  I learned that a naked woman flirting and kissing me while straddling my lap is not necessarily a sexual advance. I accepted the fact that sex between us might not be happening, and I was fine with that, but it ended up happening anyway, when just as I let go of the notion, she seemed to become interested again, and after much permission asking, we all shared some sexy times together. I left feeling slightly confused by the whole trip, but otherwise content, feeling that the two of them were feeling the same way. Navigating Pandora's emotional map was difficult, and I looked to Dante for help, but frankly, I don't think he knew the answers either.

I returned home from that trip and a few days later met Modu at a party for the first time.  I hadn't been looking to meet anyone or to find myself so immediately drawn to someone, but it happened.  We had met, flirted, and kissed that night which led to a fairly slowly developing relationship over the next few months. I told Dante the next day about meeting Modu, and he was happy for me, being a true polyamorous heart whose sense of compersion kicked in immediately.  But Pandora was pissed.  I spent weeks trying to figure out why, trying to talk with her, trying to understand.  While we never discussed any sort of monogamy regarding our threesome, she angrily accused me of being promiscuous and disrespectful of her feelings.  

Soon her anger turned to accusations that she never really wanted to be sexual with me in the first place. I had been very careful to explicitly ask permission and get approval from her, finding her confusing to begin with, and knowing she had a history of sexual abuse.  To hear these hints of non-consent coming from her was soul crushing. One of my worst fears would be to coerce someone into doing something sexual that they didn't want to do, so I was extremely upset by these ideas.  Looking back, I think she wanted to hurt me and also Dante, possibly for falling for one another.  It is possible she wanted to hurt him for pressuring her into polyamory, which she may not have been fully ready or willing to engage in. In any case, it was extremely painful for me, and we spend several months not speaking... she also forced Dante and I not to speak for months.  As you might imagine, the relationship ended and never revived.  They have since divorced, a few years later, after drama with a new attempt at poly with a new relationship, amongst other things, I am sure.

While she never actually accused me of wrong doing, she said that she consented only because she didn't feel like she could say no.  Perhaps she couldn't say no because she wanted to please her husband or me, to not cause a rift in the special feelings we had been developing. Or perhaps it was a learned behavior from her abusive past, where she froze and submitted in fear when confronted with a partner wanting to have sex with her.  I don't know.  But it was heartbreaking to me to have felt like I had been careful with her and that she sincerely wanted to be with me, and then those feelings were rescinded much later.  I felt dirty and shameful, even though I didn't think I did anything wrong.

It is hard for me to understand these feelings of the inability to say no.  My personal demons have to do with being terrified of my own sexuality, and I am quite comfortable with my fear, shame, and guilt turning my default to *no*, even when I may desperately want to express that sexuality.  I can self-deny as easily as I can breathe, it is second nature, and something I am actively challenging myself to break away from.  So when someone like me, trying to assert my sexuality to overcome my fear, meets with someone who tends to shut down in fear of another's sexuality, the results can be disastrous.  In the few years that I have been working on open relationships and polyamory, the need for complete honesty, trust, and communication have been extremely important to me.  But I can only expect those things from myself and express the desire to want them from my partners.  I can't force them into it any more than I would want to force them into being intimate.  At some point, one has trust that their partners have the self confidence and inner strength to be able to say no, even in complicated situations where emotions run high and they feel pressure, and it is only sane of me to expect that truth from them.  It is clearly not always the case, though, and I don't know what to do about that.

photo source :: Art Mind on Etsy :: Art Feeling Sculptures

top: Regret :: bottom: Pain

Clitoral Love

So, I have a complicated relationship with my clitoris.

It amazes me that the tiny little cubic inch of flesh and nerves between my legs can cause me so much pleasure and pain. Almost all of my sexual energy comes from my clit.  The throbbing, the pulsing, the desire, and the orgasms can feel so big they fill the whole room... all from just a touch to that pretty pink spot...sometimes it just takes the idea or threat of touch to do it. And when I am feeling lustful without the ability to release, the fire from my clit makes me crabby, angry, frustrated, and pained.  I feel full body pain from the wanting, radiating from my clit to my belly to my breasts to my shoulders and knees.  It is an ache that can only be calmed from some direct attention from the touch of another, to that tiny little nub of flesh, as it is barely satisfied by my own hand anymore. It seems so simple and easy, but it is the hardest thing in the world for me to ask for.

 I hate dwelling on the awful sexual issues I had with my ex-husband, because I am clearly moving on, but this is one issue that has been a very difficult source of shame and pain and it is one of the hardest things for me to move on from.  Obviously he was undereducated on the finer points of female sexual anatomy.  He had an aversion to my clit that I could never understand. I tried any way I could to discuss my needs for clitoral stimulation with him... talking, guiding, praising, reading to him, crying, begging, yelling... nothing would get through to him.  I think he had the frat boy mentality that Sex equals Penis into Vagina and that was good enough for him and it should be good enough for me, too.  But it wasn't enough and has never been enough. PIV sex is awesome and I love it, but I need more... I need some clit love to feel sexually satisfied, and I crave it more than anything else.  I think he may have even seen it as a deviant fetish, like I was asking him to indulge something more unusual like a foot fetish or water sports, which he would have clearly thought was disgusting.  So I asked and asked and was rejected and rejected. Eventually I decided sex just wasn't important in our relationship and I was going to be ok with that and then I went on birth control pills for about five years that effectively killed my clit, so that made my life much easier, as sad as that is.  When I went off that pill, the nagging and throbbing desire came back, and I was unsatisfied again, so I was miserable and thought about going back on the pill to kill it again. I resisted and we soon after split up, for a variety of reasons, but incompatibility with sex was a major one.  He is long gone, but the shame of that rejection to my precious clitoris still haunts and effects me.

This is all so difficult to write and think about and I realize that it is absolutely ridiculous. I have been working very hard to challenge my sexual self lately, so I guess that is why I am sitting here, babbling on about my clit. I guess most people have some kind of sexual hangup and this is mine, but it feel so irrational. I hate that I recently finally broke down and talked to Damascus about this and it turned into tearful conversations with me stumbling over my words, probably making him feel confused. Damn, I hate when I do that. I have found myself mostly silent about my clitoral needs to him, which is also ridiculous, because he is always eager to please me. And while he is wonderful about picking up on my body language and knows the ways I like to be touched, I have wanted more, and can't ask. I just get stuck in that old brain of having the love of my life reject my most basic desire, so I shut down and stay blocked, too afraid of rejection. I have mixed feelings about the fact that it took having a new lover to challenge me before I could really open up about this, but perhaps that is exactly what is so very wonderful and uplifting about having a variety of lovers.  Having talked about it, and now blogged about it, and having it out in the open, I hope will help me in the future.

I think that all these years of longing and fantasizing have caused me to create a fetishistic view of my clit now.  I am beyond needing a little rubbing every now and then.  I want it to be adored, loved, and worshiped even.  I want it to be explored with focused curiosity and I want to allow it to experience a variety of experiments.  Maybe try clamps, clothespins, ice, heat, vibrations, tickles, light touches and licks.  Yes... licks, lots and lots of those, because I crave cunnilingus so very much, and spent decades desiring it with no satisfaction in reality.  I want to be teased and to beg for contact with it, I want to learn to build my orgasms instead of coming at the first thought of contact, and I want to be spread open and eagerly enjoyed, having those room filling orgasms that I know I am capable of.  Someday, I want to feel that I can love my clit and have it loved in return.

photo: : Judy Chicago :: Virginia Woolf Setting :: The Dinner Party 1974-79

Peeking into Kink

 photo source 

Damascus and I have been meeting lots of kinky people lately, going to munches and discussion groups and events that are geared with kinksters in mind.  None of these events have actually featured any real kinky activity, just conversation and friendly chatting.  We went to a munch, a sale of BDSM equipment, a discussion group, and a geeky movie marathon night at a BDSM dungeon themed Bed and Breakfast.  We have met many friendly people, all seemingly comfortable and willing to talk about their kinks and interests (except for the newbies, like ourselves, which often look shy and more reserved, hanging back to listen).  Going to these things is not nearly as scary as I thought it would be, and while I get nervous every time, I am starting to meet people I like and it is becoming more comfortable with each event.  I am learning so much about myself as I learn about others.  Mostly I learn things that I am not interested in doing or experiencing in the BDSM world and taking note of why.  I still can't really articulately verbalize the interests I *do* have (which I would like to make an effort to attempt soon) but using process of elimination to rule things out (for now at least) seems like a good starting point.  I have also learned to keep an open mind and not rule things out entirely, because tastes and interests seem to change and expand as one has new experiences.

So many of the people we have met are very hardcore about their kinks.  People living 24/7 as doms and subs, very extreme pain and activities. It feels a little voyeuristic and is also somewhat intimidating.  But I try to remember that these are the folks who are most experienced and they seem to have a confidence in what they do, and thus are likely the most outspoken.  I feel like some of the things I like: a little spanking, interest in light bondage, and a little dirty talk are terribly vanilla in comparison.  It makes me wonder what it means to be kinky. I try not to dwell on it too much, though. I am learning , thinking, and exploring this side of me so much, and I am fine with going slowly and thoughtfully.  And I try not to feel too intimidated, because it seems silly to feel like an outsider in a group of outsiders. The important thing is that I feel like my sexual wants are a little out of the ordinary in a variety of ways and I feel a kinship with other kinky people.  Also, being in a room that has chains hanging from the ceiling and a wall hung full of floggers and paddles makes me all sorts of squirmy, even if I don't know what I want to do with those things yet.

I am hoping, weather permitting, to attend another kinky munch tomorrow in a farther away place (but one where I may know even more people already).  And Friday, if a space opens up (fingers crossed) Damascus and I may be attending our first play party, at the Bed & Breakfast.  I really hope a space opens up for us and the owner lets us in. This would be our first time in a kinky environment where there is some actual play going on, which is both terrifying and exquisitely exciting to me.

Coming Out

ceramic pig in kiln opening :: photo source

I have kept many of the things I write about here on the blog pretty private to the world around me. When I started my journey of self discovery around the time of my divorce, I talked about some of my interests and tendencies to my friends at the time.  I learned that things like polyamory, open relationships, bisexuality, and kink can make people uncomfortable.  I lost a couple of friends that had been friends for a long time, which was painful, particularly at a painful time in my life like during my divorce.  Of course, looking back, I can see that these were not real friends, if they couldn't handle the reality of my life.  My friends now take me as I am and are authentic and challenge me.

I sell my ceramic wares every Saturday and Sunday at a local artisan market.  I spend every Saturday and Sunday from 11-7 in that space, making sales, working on craft projects, and people watching. While some of the other vendors are temporary or semi- regular, there are some vendors I see every weekend, and they have become my weekend family.  While my regular groups of friends are out enjoying their weekend and are out of touch, I share my weekends with these amazing artisans and entrepreneurs.  After about 6 months of knowing some of them, I have started to form some pretty good friendships.  But still, I have kept many of these subjects pretty private to these new friends.  Until recently.

My last two dates with Juesance have been on Saturday nights, after the market.  With my friends being off on their weekend adventures, and me sitting at the market all day feeling increasingly excited on Saturdays and blissfully happy on Sundays, I was starting to find the need to talk about it to the people around me.  It was scary to start to have those conversations, as I feared the reactions and judgements. I tend to seem quiet and shy and it seems that even people who have known me for a few months become very surprised that I am working on an open relationship and seeing a few people, that I am into BDSM, and that I am bisexual.  I guess I hide pretty well under my "good girl" guise.

I have not encountered judgement, I am pleased to say. They look at me a little wide eyed at first, but once the idea sinks in, my vendor friends are excited and curious about my life!  At first, when I say I have a date that night, almost everyone asks if I am cheating, in this whispery voice like they are getting some good gossip from me. They are relieved though, and a little confused, when I say that no, I am very opposed to cheating and I am all about transparency in my relationships. They are surprised that my partners have met, and can even hang out together without problems. They ask questions, and I encourage them to do so.  Questions about logistics, jealousy, how it all works. Since I am still figuring it all out myself, it helps me to explain things and put these ideas into words.  Most of them say they admire my honesty and efforts. Many say they could never have such a relationship themselves because of their own jealousy issues, or that they can't get the hang of communicating in one relationship, let alone multiple.  At least one friend has told me that she would love to do the same thing, as she is married and is cheating with someone else, albeit on the "down low", and would love to live more honestly.  

I am so glad it has been a positive experience to "come out" about this stuff this time around.  And it is a very interesting social experiment for me too.  I have learned so much by explaining it to others.

Core of the Fire

Dragon Kiln Firing :: photo source

So there has been a lot of thinking and talking and growing and fucking going on here lately!  I don't really have a solid blog post theme today but I feel the need to take a moment and record some of my feelings here, so I am going to sit here and work and write a little bit at a time, trying to capture one or two of the thoughts that are spinning through my head.  I was talking with Prisma last night and I said that this whole polyamory business seems so complicated at times, but so damn simple at other times. Simple, I guess, meaning that it feels so right and sure to me, when all of the other extraneous, unwanted emotions are burning away and I am staring right into the core of the fire.  She reminded me that it is helpful to talk (and write) about it to work through things, and I agree.  There has been so much talking lately, with Damascus, with friends old and new, and lovers past and present, and writing my thoughts down here is helpful too.

The spark between Juesance and I turned quite fevered and we connected in very exciting and hot ways the other night!  It was rather intense and satisfying, and now that the initial fever has been quenched, I am left with a clearer mind and heart.  In my quest to be with him, I was a bit insensitive in speaking with Damascus, which had me feeling upset with myself.  It wasn't a major rift, more of a question of my tone and not being as thoughtful as I should have been, and I apologized and I feel forgiven.  In a way, I am glad it happened, because now I know how it feels to fuck up a little bit, and we have weathered it just fine.  He really seems to be genuinely happy for me and the happiness that I am finding, and that is so important to me.  As I am starting to feel more settled and less confused in my relationships, I am starting to think towards helping to support him in finding a girl to be flirty or sexy or have a relationship with, either alone or with me, which he seems interested in perusing.  

It can be so very challenging to spend so much time thinking about relationships (especially when there are multiple relationships that intersect) and really concentrating on what it is that I want in this life. It is far easier to find something comfortable and cling to it and coast through blindly in that comfort.  But I did that for a long time, and it wasn't enough.  I was so unfulfilled and spent so much time longing and fantasizing about having experiences and sharing love and pleasure with others, and I have a lot of difficulty now thinking about being in that same place of constricting monogamy.  I do like having a partner in a primary role, someone with whom I can share my daily life and dreams. I am not so much afraid of commitment; I fear stagnancy and feeling trapped.  I enjoy having the security and consistency of a primary partner, plus the opportunity to explore the other things that I crave, whether it is a feeling of infatuation, a sexual desire, the touch of another woman, or exploring fantasies of a more kinky nature that my partner might not share.

Through all of this soul searching, Damascus and I found there was some stagnancy in our lives together, which we are now examining.  These are things unrelated to the polyamory issue, things like finances, domestic chores and daily living issues, personal space and privacy, and dreams and goals.  I fear that we let some of these things slide and go unnoticed, perhaps partially in the distraction of the poly issues, but now we are paying attention to them, and I am confident we can resolve a lot of these questions we have.  We tend to work well together and want to tend to each others needs, so I feel good about working together to make sure our relationship is as strong as it can be.  Of course, this means more thinking and attention from me. I am terrible about voicing my needs and establishing and enforcing my boundaries, so that's another challenging thing I will need to work on.

That's the state of the Anagama today.  I am not feeling the guilt that often plagues me. I am eagerly challenged, consciously aware, ethically satisfied, content yet questioning, and happy!

The Sofa

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Recently, in one of many recent conversations with Damascus about setting rules and defining comfort levels regarding our newly opening relationship, we came to an agreement about the bedroom.  We decided to keep the bedroom as a sacred sexual space between the two of us, not sharing the bed with others.  Unless, we were both sharing it with someone together, that is.  I think this is a good arrangement that gives us our own special safe space, and I was pleased we negotiated this detail together easily and early.

Last night, Damascus and I sat together on the sofa, and he read my last post for the first time while I was at his side.  I was terrified that he would be upset or hurt by reading about the intimate things I did with someone else on that same sofa, just a couple of days before. I sat there, bracing myself, MY heart racing in fear in anticipation of his reaction.  But he didn't get upset.  He smiled softly and held me in his arms and said it was ok. And that made me very happy.

He has mentioned feeling a little bit of envy lately, of my time and attention that I am expending with others, which is understandable considering the amount of New Relationship Energy that I have been experiencing.  I am working on ways to make the NRE flow over into our relationship and we set up a special date night that will be good for us, too.  He also mentioned missing the snogging sessions that we used to do early in our relationship, which I am more than happy to invite back into our lives.

In fact, after reading the blog and talking about it while on the sofa, last night, we started in on some of that return to snogging.  And beyond!  Perhaps I read a little too much into it, but I had the distinct impression that even though we made the sofa an accepted open sexytime space, he was going to make sure that we properly christened it in its new role properly ourselves.  While we have certainly fooled around and had sex on the sofa in the past, I don't think we have ever fucked quite so hot and hard there before!  Again, maybe it was all in my own twisted mind, but I felt a welcome combination of healthy competition and caring dominance...I knew that my pussy was owned by him on that sofa in that moment, and that is a memory that is not going to fade anytime soon.

Of course, the sofa is an old rickety futon and is not very comfortable, and I have been wanting to save up the money to buy a new one for a few years now.  I feel like I have new incentive.  I would really love a large, sprawling sectional sofa, to share snuggly time with my sweetheart and where we can spend comfy times with our friends and friends-with-benefits.  And I must admit, I would like the opportunity to properly break in another piece of furniture with Damascus. :)

Heart Beat

Heart Teapot: Compassion, 1993 by Richard Notkin

I am enjoying learning and understanding the multitudes of things that can make me orgasm lately.  And I am finding myself more and more intrigued with the orgasms that are more unusual, like ones brought on by being touched in unlikely places, or by sounds or sights, or just my own naughty overactive brain.

I reclined on the couch, as he laid on top of me, in a delicious evening of snuggling and kissing. We were fully dressed below the waist and my legs wrapped around his chest as he lifted my shirt a bit and kissed the ticklish spot on my belly. I think my giggles excited him and in the quiet moment that passed between us, I felt the very subtle thump of his heart start to race.  I closed my eyes and realized that his heart was beating directly on my clit, and that I felt it through about three layers of clothing. The very thought of our two organs lining up and beating together sent me into a writhing series of trembling orgasms, rolling one after another, before I even realized what I was experiencing.

That divine place where minds, hearts, and bodies meet is a place of ultimate ecstasy for me.

Letting In and Letting Go

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Ok, these thoughts are fleeting fast, so I want to get them down in words.  I have vaguely alluded to someone new in my life recently.  Meeting Juesance has been a bit of a whilrwind in some ways, but I am feeling quite clear and grounded in my feelings of connection with him. I have been thinking about how immediate and focused my feelings can be for people sometimes, just upon initial meeting. In the last three years, I have had these experiences of immediate attraction and bonding with both friends and lovers including Damascus and Modu as well as with my best buddy. I have been thinking that my instincts for letting people into my life are very strong and distinct, and I should trust them.

And then, of course, I second guess that thought.  Because I second guess most everything lately.  And not without reason... I am terrified of repeating the same mistake I made in my marriage, of course. Even though I know that it was not one mistake, but a series of many mistakes.  And you know, Intaglio and I had that same immediate and intense connection when we first met.  But it was not always bad, there were many years of good, mostly those early years.  So perhaps I can return to my theory that I have good instincts of letting people into my life.

I think the real issue, one that I need to keep in my awareness, is not the issue of trusting my self to let people in... it is my failures of letting people go.  Clearly, I held on to a terrible marriage for many years longer than I should have.  I couldn't let go, even when it was in my best interest. After much turmoil,  I eventually did let it go, and perhaps that decision will save me from future heartbreak.  A couple of years ago, I had to let go of another relationship, when I was with Dante, as things had become destructive.  That was complex and painful and in a way, not my decision, but I did let go and felt stronger in doing so.  And it turns out that just needed to be a temporary letting go of him, as I have been able to let him back in recently in a new place of friendship, and I feel safe in doing so now.  I think I am being more mindful of discovering my boundaries and defining the things I want and need in relationships and having the strength to express those things. I think I am also now becoming more willing to either adapt or consider ending relationships that have the potential to become destructive.

Not that I am considering letting go of anyone right now! I want to be clear about that! :) This is just the course that my brain is going through, questioning my judgement in starting these intense relationships that I seem to be drawn into.  Perhaps the thoughts about deciding to have to let go are also brought on because of the decision to put my doggie to sleep last week.  That is the ultimate letting go of someone, isn't it?  But again, it became very clear that to continue on would be destructive for not only my poor puppy, but to my own heart.  And I feel sad, but confident and ultimately good about that decision.

It amazes me how the universe works.  I am not one to believe in fate or destiny or the will of some god, but sometimes it is just a very strange and mysterious thing the way we all swirl around together, sometimes reaching out to one another or colliding together or letting each other go back into the swirl of chaos that is life...

Sapiosexual

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When I first met Dante, he was just a bunch of words on my computer.  I met him through the Live Journals of some friends that actually knew him.  He lived hundreds of miles away and consisted of some ideas and icons on a screen.  I was at the end of my marriage, which was crumbling beneath my feet, and this stranger provided support as I typed out some of my heartbreak into my own journal.  We continued to interact, moving into emails and into IM chat, which was new to me.  I was in awe of the ability to type with someone in real time, having a conversation back in forth through writing.  We logged in many hours and many more words together, typing late into the evenings and nights, philosophy and creative expression flowing naturally between us almost effortlessly.

We continued and increased our level of conversation over the months.  My marriage ended and he was there to read my writings and comfort me.  Our language started to become very poetic and intense.  We poured emotion onto each other, each one of us longing for the attention the other had to give.  See, Dante didn't realize it, but his marriage was in trouble too, and I think he was desperate for interaction. I felt rather confused that I was developing feelings for a person that I had never met, it was so intangible.  How could I become so infatuated with someone almost solely because of their words?  How does that even happen?

Dante and his wife planned a trip to my city for a long weekend that summer to visit my friends and to meet me.  The weeks and days leading up to the meeting were filled with so much fear, anxiety, and nervousness.  One of the things that plagued me was this idea of being intellectually and sexually attracted to this idea of a person, one I had never met in the flesh. I was concerned that perhaps I might not be sexually attracted to him upon meeting him. I wondered if I didn't find him sexually appealing, would the feelings I had developed over the months getting to know him be cancelled out?  And if they were, would that mean I was shallow?

Upon meeting him, I was immediately attracted to him.  But there was a period of several hours of adjustment that took place, probably for him too.  When you develop this fantasy about a person: how they look, how they speak, how they move... it is a strange and somewhat confusing feeling to see the reality of the person for the first time, and it takes a while for it to settle in.  At least, it did for me.  And I wondered if I would have been attracted to him if I met him for the first time off the street, or if I was attracted to him because I had already fallen for his mind, or if I was just flat out attracted to him upon sight, regardless of the intimate history we had already shared. And how would I ever know? And did it matter? Because damn it, I was really deeply infatuated by that point.

That relationship crashed and burned for a variety of reasons, but I learned a great deal from it.  I am reminded of this early encounter and the confusing and exciting days filled with New Relationship Energy and all of these remembrances about falling for someone primarily because of their mind and then later because of their physical presence.  I am reminded, by the way, because I have been having a similar experience lately with someone new.  It started with liking this gentleman's FetLife profile full of exciting wordy thoughts and later meeting him at a Munch, and then spending more time getting to know him by chat and email.  While I very much liked what I saw when we met in person, I am much more overcome by that familiar feeling of words washing over me, feeling pulled under into a sea of ideas, desire swirling as thoughts are shared through computer screens.  The difference this time is that the waiting has not been so long between the idea infatuation and the physical meeting, so perhaps I have been less inclined to over-think these things, but I am certainly reminded of those early conversations with Dante.

Brave Vision

I am striving to enjoy the beauty of each moment in this full life I lead.

  I long to revel in the excitement of meeting someone new, spending time talking, flirting, and smiling while learning all about someone and letting them into my life to learn about me.

I desire to be happy and hopeful, full of possibility and exploration, at the thought of a potential new friend or lover. And I desire to express my hopes fully and risk breaking my heart to do so.  I am ready to put my heart out to the world, prepared for it to be swept away some times and crushed other times.

I will no longer be numb, or feel trapped, or hide in the darkness because of fear.

I want to have all these things and come home to my sweet guy who I love and to be able to tell him all about it, sharing with an unrestricted heart.  I want him to be happy for me and be accepting and loving and I want to be able to be here for him in the same way someday, if he has the same experience.

These are my dreams for a life that I think is possible, someday.  Maybe someday soon...

 I want to have these things without the monsters of guilt and insecurity biting at me. These monsters are my own creation, growling inside of me, snapping at me when I seem to have a quiet moment of peaceful happiness. They are monsters I have created in response to a long unhappy marriage. They are a reaction to societal pressures and norms that I want to fight against, things I always end up slipping into thinking I should be as a woman or partner or wife.  These monsters are brutal, and they hold me back, and I need to start to learn to tame them.

Benefits of Breath

"Canary" by Kate MacDowell.  Porcelain and lighting.

I have been making a greater effort lately to lose some weight and get healthier.  I had been doing well but had a setback in the form of an ovarian cyst which made me sore and very tired for a couple of months.  But I seem to be managing the pain now (quitting coffee seemed to help) and I am working hard to go to the gym more often and make better food choices.

I haven't liked working out at the gym.  While I understand the health benefits long-term, the short term benefits don't seem to ever add up for me.  Weight loss is slooow.  I see little progress. It takes a chunk of time out of my busy day which I resent. I end up tired and sore and that makes me lose more time. 

People tell me that you can get into a groove if you practice enough.  That the soreness will pass and as you get stronger, it will feel more beneficial.  I can see this starting to happen, ever so slightly. I am able to use the elliptical machine for longer and burn more calories... twice as much as I could a month or so ago. I am no longer gasping for breath after a few minutes with sore lungs and an uncomfortably pounding heart. So that's progress!  I don't know if I could say I really like it, but I am starting to see some progress that appeals to me.  The hot tub time at the end of the workout has been my incentive, as I love the sensation of hot bubbly water on my flesh, but I would like to enjoy the workout itself, so I am searching for greater benefits.

I have started to pay more attention to the music I choose while I work out.  And I have been choosing music that has an erotic or sexual appeal to me.  It started with some old 80's Ska, which always makes me feel a little tingly, with its fast beats, sexy cockney slang, and intelligent lyrics.  One day at the gym, I had an all Ska workout, and I ended up feeling not only work-out-sweaty, but sexy and a little wet as well.  Apparently, I got pretty turned on!  Maybe it was the music itself or maybe the music plus the motion.  I tried to envision myself dancing a bit, and I put some hips into it and moved to the beat.  Since then I have been looking for music that turns me on  and have been adding it to my iPod.  As I have progressed, I find myself getting more than wet from a workout...  I am damn horny!  Maybe that is a reflection of what is going on in my life as well, as I have been very aroused lately in general.  I am likely too reserved to acutally orgasm at the gym while working out, but I may be coming close.  I try to visit when there are fewer people there, so as to not make a scene.  Orgasms are definitely a benefit to working out!

And I mentioned lung capacity.  I have seen my increase in lung capacity help me in maintaining longer orgasms during sex lately.  I have discovered I have these nice, long rolling orgasms that can last for several minutes, with waves of orgasms followed by quiet periods of time where I am trembling and "holding on" to the feeling so I can "catch another wave".  I have been experiencing these for a while, but I usually can't hold on too long, because my lungs start to feel sore and I get light headed.  Who wants to stop such an amazing experience for something as silly as "breathing"?  Heh, I guess it is important or something.  And now I think I can have longer waves and have been concentrating on slowing my breathing to make them last as long as possible.  This is clearly another benefit to sticking to my workout schedule!

I am proud that I have been going to the gym on my allotted 3 days a week for a few weeks now.  Aside from these obvious sexual benefits, I hope to actually start to lose weight and feel stronger and active soon.  And perhaps I can actually learn to have a quiet orgasm on the elliptical... who knows?  It's kind of hot to think about, actually.

When I checked in at the gym today, the gal at the desk told me that my limited 3 day account is now upgraded for free.  Now I can go in anytime I want, any day, as if it was an omen from the sex gods to keep up the good work and good orgasms.

Domestic Demons

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So I had a minor setback in my dedication to not feel guilty and stupid about the kind of relationship that I am seeking.  I was getting ready to drive to see Modu for a play date last week.  Damascus was planning to stay at home (my home) and do some errands and chores and have the night to himself.  This is sort of new, in itself, as he is not usually here alone.  I don't at all mind him being here alone... it actually makes me feel safe to know he is looking after things and I am sharing my home with him... but there is a part of me that feels bad leaving him alone.  Particularly when I am going out on a date with another man, which is essentially what is happening when I go see Modu, I guess. 

Anyway, he did a load of laundry, and he threw a pair of my pants in too.  Of course, my pants had a tube of red tinted lip balm in it.  I would say that almost every load of laundry I do contains a forgotten lip balm tube, or tissues, or some other thing that is not supposed to be washed.  I am forgetful and not very attentive when it comes to laundry and other household tasks, so it happens often I deal with it.  I basically work around this by never buying white or light clothing, because I know my careless self too much.  But Damascus' shirt was white, and it is now ruined.

Perhaps it was the timing of the day and the lingering guilt I felt about leaving him for the evening, or perhaps it struck a nerve in me the way it might for other conflicted third wave feminists.  Part of me felt bad for not being the kind of woman who took care of my man, the way my mom did for my dad or my grandma did for my grandpa. It's the same way I feel bad for having a messy house and not being very maternal and wanting to cook and feed and comfort my guy. I am simply too busy with work and other things in my life to give a shit about things like my own laundry, let alone someone else's. Of course, I know that I work very hard at my career which takes up almost all of my time, and I am not only self sufficient in taking care of all my own expenses, but I also usually am financially able to provide us with our extra entertainment money for dinners and outings and vacations.  So logically, I know that I shouldn't hold all the responsibility for the feeding and cleaning of another person who is also able to take care of himself, but it is so ingrained into me that it kicks my ass sometimes.

This sort of thing happened often in my marriage with Intaglio. But it was even more confusing.  He expected us to take on traditional male/female household roles, yet he wouldn't hold up his end of the deal and had difficulty if I tried to hold up to his standards.  If I got too house-wifey, he would reject me because it reminded him too much of his mother. So he would push me away if I was too maternal and caring, while still demanding I was a "good wife".  I don't think I will ever understand what that means. Also, I was for many years the one responsible for all the bills, as I almost completely supported him.  So he wanted a wife, caregiver, domestic goddess (but not too much), yet fully independent woman all at once and wanted to take care of me, but never put in the work to support me financially or in any other way.  It is no wonder I was confused then and I am still confused now.

And the thing is, Damascus wasn't mad about the shirt, and he was rather confused why I got all panicky and weepy about the whole subject.  He took responsibility for his own laundry.  He did not blame me at all.  But I did, like the self sacrificing demon that I am.

 In fact, he laughed it off, sent me on my way with the wish to have fun on date night, and told me he had the mind to contact Modu to tell him what a bitch I was being to myself, and that I should be properly punished with a good spanking.  Which is just about the sweetest, most twisted sentiment of love that I have had expressed to me.

Bound

I have been browsing the pictures on FetLife lately and have really been struck by the beauty of the rope bondage.  I have seen a little bit of it before and it has interested me, but I haven't spent much time really studying it and thinking about it until recently.  And now that I have discovered so many beautiful examples, my mind has been wandering lately to fantasies about being tied up and bound.

I am an artisan by trade and spend all day long working with my hands.  If I am not doing something with my hands, I get rather fidgety.  This is good for my career, because I am always wanting to work, but when I am not working, I probably appear jittery and neurotic, as I try to sit still or spend my time obsessively puttering with things in order to fulfill my compulsions to do something with my hands.  On occasion, when I am working very hard, my hands get tired, or at least I feel like I want a break.  I am usually not wise enough to allow myself to take breaks and to spend time being still, but I am learning.  One of the important things I have learned about myself with BDSM is how much I enjoy the moments of stillness, quietude, and inactivity.  In fact, I take great pleasure in them, but I don't often give myself time or permission to enjoy these things in my busy daily life.

I think this is part of my interest in BDSM... I seek it as a way to escape sometimes...as a way to take a much needed break. I almost have to force myself to take the time out for myself, which is difficult especially when I am very busy.  And once I have given myself permission for the off-time, I have enjoyed giving up further permission to my play partner to demand that I hand over control to him, making me stop worrying about my life and work woes for a short time, stop fidgeting, and focus entirely on the pleasure and pain of that very moment. I find myself craving this more and more lately, and I am trying to acknowledge the craving and pursue it as ethically and honestly as I can.  Perhaps I hope that the practice of bondage will help me train myself to sit still... maybe it could prepare me for meditative activity.  I think sometimes it helps me to give someone the permission to force my hand (or my will) so that I can learn more clearly.

I think I will start to ask for some elements of bondage to be incorporated into play.  And one day, I would like to try to try to be still enough for some of the more elaborate rope bondage that I have seen. Damascus has shown an interest in ropework as well, and while he doesn't seem to care for many of the DS elements of kink that I crave, he does like things that are sensual and beautiful, so this might be something that we can enjoy together.

I dream of the experience of being bound beautifully in rope, my hands and mind quieted and at peace.

Learning Curves

I had a dream about Prisma last night.  Unfortunately, it was not one of the hot, steamy, sexy kinds of dreams, although I have had those about her too.  Prisma is a very cute, smart, and very hot girl that Damascus and I have huge crushes on.  We even somehow had the good fortune of sharing some fun, casual, sexy time with her.  I am still not sure how that happened, but it was amazing. It was... until I think I broke it with an emotional outburst and misunderstanding. I am pretty sure I broke it.  Fortunately, it seems to have not effected our friendships, which gives me relief, but I have been pretty hard on myself for letting my emotions get to me and causing things to get weird.

Anyway, in my dream, Prisma came to a party of all of our friends.  As in real life when she enters a room, the mood of the room lifts and everyone is a little more excited.  Including myself.  In the dream, also like in real life, I tried desperately to keep up with the general conversation, failing frequently in volume and humor, but succeeding wildly in awkwardness. At some point she mentioned she was hungry, and I set out on what became a giant obstacle-filled adventure to obtain food for her.  The adventure involved a yard full of men grilling meat (which I don't eat much) and a painful exchange with my boss from 10 years ago who used to tease me about my vegetarianism at the time.  I don't know what all the meat imagery was about, probably to contrast masculinity with femininity or something.  Anyway, I don't think I ever got the food to her.  And in the time I took to find it, I am sure someone else brought her some dinner.  Hell, she is a resourceful and independent person, she probably found it herself.  And probably wasn't expecting me to seek out nourishment for her in the first place.

In fact, in the dream, Prisma never even asked me to help or serve her, I took it upon myself, in what was probably a desperate act to be liked or to get some attention.  At least that was the revelation I came to when I woke up.  I was also strangely hungry for a hamburger.

This dream got me thinking about my relationships with women.  My friendships with girls have always been difficult. Grade school, junior high, and high school were filled with drama filled relations with girls.  I always struggled with same sex friendships. And yet, I was also attracted to women from pretty early on in my sexual development.  I told one boyfriend late in high school, who clearly approved.  Then I went to college and met my ex-husband, and I kept my bi-curiosity a secret for 17 years, because I knew he would not approve.  I lived with it in my head, though, knowing that my fantasies were my own.  By the time we split up, I was pretty comfortable with my attraction to women.  The new change would become the fact that I could actually pursue it as a single person.  And I did!

Exploring my new found bisexuality as a thirty-something for the first time has been exciting!  At first, considering all those years of wondering what it would be like to kiss, touch, and have sex with a girl... part of me worried that if I ever did get to have the experience, it wouldn't live up to what I made it in my mind.  To my happy surprise, it was even better!  And I have had a few amazing women share it with me. And even though I am in a relationship with a man, I still think about women and crave sex with women.  Happily, he approves of this and shares my fantasies with me, and has even helped to make them a reality, like in the case with Prisma.

But the thing that I didn't expect was the emotional turmoil that I would experience with these new, more intimate relationships with women.  All my relationships were with men in the past, and I feel like I have a lot of experience with the problems and joys that I have had with my relationships with men.  But with women, it's like a whole new experience, one that I have been fumbling through pretty awkwardly.  I have experienced emotional highs and lows that I have never felt with men.  Unexpected situations and misunderstandings that I didn't expect, arising from both myself and my various female partners, which have surprised me with major confusion and heartbreak on several occasions.

And this shouldn't surprise me or bother me as much as it does. As usual, I should cut myself a fucking break. After all, it is a completely new relationship experience for me. In the larger picture of my life so far, I have only very recently given myself the freedom to flirt with, date, or play with women.  It makes sense that I am stumbling about like a teenage heterosexual boy who is discovering girls for the first time.  And just the way I struggled with dating men for the first time, decades ago, I should allow myself some freedom to fail in this new path of sexual discovery.  So, I am working on being hopeful, and being as proud as I can that I have not caused so much chaos and turmoil as to have broken the friendships I have had with the women I have been intimate with.  It's a learning curve, after all.

The Toy

photo source

"Thank you for letting me play with your toy" Modu said earnestly to Damascus, after one of our first kinky play dates together, which Damascus requested to witness so he could gauge his comfort level.  "Hey!" I objected, my feminist ideologies immediately kicking in.  I started to say that I wasn't a toy, I was a person, and a smart and independent one who didn't want to be treated like an object.  But those words didn't come out of my mouth, because as I sat there and started constructing the perfect witty socially correct retort, I looked at the two boys smirking at each other, and I reconsidered my objection. They knew as much as I did that I liked being their toy. I enjoyed becoming a plaything, for each of them, in different ways.  I love when I am able to turn off my responsible, busy, independent, and stubborn brain to let each of them do as they please with me, or to do what they ask of me.  There is something satisfying and liberating about allowing myself to become a sexual object, for a delicious few moments.

I am only a toy because I allow myself to be a toy. It is my choice.

The Reflection

 photo source

We had finished our school scenario playtime together and I was slowly gathering my clothing to get dressed, chatting with Modu as I casually moved around the room.  I caught him looking at me as I was leaning over to pick up my bra, he was admiring my breasts.  I looked down at them and saw how gravity pulled at them, making them look distorted and strange as I leaned over.  Embarrassed, I cupped my hands over them to hide them as I blushed and turned around, mumbling something about hating my saggy boobs.  With all the Modu has seen of me, why did I still feel the need to hide my body?  Especially when he was looking at me admiringly and was clearly pleased at what he saw.

In a sudden rush, he got up from the couch, grabbed me by the hair, and led me to the corner of the room.  This move surprised me, as I was deep in thought and my back was turned to him.  He had my attention now!  Tightening his grip on my hair and pulling my head up, I noticed we were standing in front of a large round mirror on the wall.  "Look in there, what do you see?" he demanded.

Ugh, I was topless and exposed in front of the mirror.  I could barely look at myself,  My face turned red and I tried to squirm away. He repeated his demand, making me look again.  "You and me" I said.

"I see a beautiful woman", he said. "Don't you?"  I still couldn't look. "I want you to tell me that you are a beautiful woman", he whispered firmly in my ear, his eyes locked on mine in the mirror's reflection. This was painful.  I had happily endured spankings, hair pulling, pinches and scratches that evening, but that was all physical pain... and quite minor in comparison to this emotional wound that he was prodding.  Tears started to well up in my eyes.  I am a strong woman, reasonably confident in my work and life, so why is making a simple statement such as this so difficult?  The words stuck in my throat as tears started to trickle down.  I think I managed to speak, but the grip on my hair and the growl coming from behind me let me know that my delivery was unconvincing.

Modu loosened his grip, seeing that this was actually painful for me, and tried another approach.  He softened his touch, stroked my skin slowly, and followed my curves with his fingertips as I watched the reflection.  "How could you not see beauty here?" he asked.  I shifted my gaze to watching him, as he looked at me. "I am ashamed to be so exposed", I answered.  "There is no shame here, in this place. It is safe here", he said.

It's not that I necessarily hate my body, although I do feel some dislike for it, sometimes. The saggy, flabby bits frustrate me and make me feel self conscious at times. But overall, I feel fairly comfortable in my skin.  But feeling sexual about it is a different story.  And feeling as if I am being looked at in a sexual way by others is especially difficult.  I had conditioned myself to a life of prudishness, shamefully hiding under baggy clothes and cutting myself off from anyone who might express the slightest perceived desire for me. I spent many years in my marriage being told I was looking or behaving slutty, for the most innocent of outfits or behaviors.  The most casual flirting was cause for days of arguments and a tiny bit of cleavage or unexpected nipple erection showing through my clothing in front of others was cause for harsh judgement.  That hell is over and I have many partners and friends who encourage me to express my sexuality now.  I am working on reclaiming the term "slut", even!  But those emotions are still very real and very painful.

Perhaps this scene in front of the mirror has some basis in behavioral therapy. Maybe it is a form of exposure therapy where I am directed to expose myself to the things that are problematic in my life, slowly and with guidance, in order to work through them.  I think this is what I have been seeking with BDSM.  It is very challenging and difficult, but very rewarding.  By the time Modu and I said goodnight and I left for my drive, I had spoken aloud and with confidence that I was beautiful and sexy, and I think I believed it.  I also watched myself orgasm in the mirror, by my own hand, as a final treat.  While I left the house with tears dried on my face, I was happy and felt a confidence that I rarely feel.  Perhaps I will be able to stop avoiding the scary Mirror soon, and take another good look at the beauty within.

Kinky University

 photo source

Imagine a school scenario, some sort of a naughty college called Kinky University.  I am a struggling student.  A bashful and shy exterior mask the mind of a girl who is more sexually devious than meets the eye.  When pressed to do my sexy schoolwork, my bashfulness is often replaced with bratty defiance.  Thus, I am not doing well in my studies and need to frequently meet with the school's Headmaster for special lessons and discipline.  The Headmaster is patient but is strong and stern, and makes it his mission to see that his student follows his rules, learns her lessons, and conducts herself properly in his presence.

First Lesson

I walked into his room, nervously excited.  This was to be my first lesson with the Headmaster and I wasn't sure what to expect, and I was feeling very bouncy with extra energy.  He stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, silently glaring at me.  I stood there for a moment, uncomfortably wondering what to say.  His eyes were fixed on me, but looking into them made me blush, so I looked everywhere but at him, squirming in the awkward silence.  "um, I am here for my lesson" I said, meekly.  A few moments of silence passed as I looked at my shoes, my feet tapping an uncontrollable nervous dance.  I could feel my face getting redder as the silence continued to fill the room.  I wanted to run away, but i gathered up my courage and looked at him in the eye.

"You are tardy" he said. "And you have not properly addressed me as you have been instructed".

"oh my goodness, I am sorry, I couldn't find my keys, and I was running late", I stammered. "It was only a few minutes anyway..."

"That is not acceptable, and you still haven't addressed me properly", he said, with a strong, firm tone, which caught my attention and made my heart race.

"I am sorry, Sir."

He unclasped his arms that had been crossed at his chest.  Whew, I thought, he has accepted my apology and we can start our lesson!  He suddenly moved towards me and grabbed my hand, pulling it behind my back, spinning me around so he was close behind me, and with the other hand grabbed my hair and pulled me close to him.  "Your apology is noted, but you will need to be punished for your thoughtlessness", he said calmly and forcefully.  "Do you understand, Little Missy?".

"Yes, Sir, I think I understand" I said, quietly, my heart racing.  I squirmed around, trying to break from his grip.  "Are you sure you understand? Quit squirming around and respond properly" He said, pulling me a little closer, gripping my hair a little tighter to raise me off of my feet to my tiptoes.  "Yes, Sir!"  I declared.

"Very well, then,"  He said as he released his grip on me but remained behind me.  He hovered behind me, and I could hear his words close to my ear, which sent shivers down my back. "You will receive your discipline later.  First, we will start your first lesson. Today's lesson is about repetition.  I want you to repeat what I say back to me, changing it to the first person.  Do you understand?"

"I think so, Sir."

"Tell me you're a naughty girl"

"You're a naughty girl" I say with a sassy tone, in defiance.

He grabbed my hair again and pulled it hard enough that my knees started to buckle.  He brought his other hand in front of me to my neck, stabilizing me, making me feel just short of feeling like he could choke me easily with a tighter grip.  "Try that again, with less of an attitude", he growled.

"I am a naughty girl".  I heard a little growl behind me, my cue to remember..."Sir!"

"Good girl" he said, releasing me slightly, but keeping his hands in my hair and on my neck lightly, just in case I slipped up again.

The lesson went on for several rounds.  I had to repeat to him that I would do as Sir pleased.  That I deserved to be spanked.  That I was going to be a good little slut.  That I was thankful that Sir took time out of his schedule for my lessons.  Some of the things he asked me to say made me blush, they sounded so dirty.  If I hesitated or protested, he would inflict a little pain upon me.

After many rounds of repetitions, Sir said,"Your lesson is complete now"  and he released me from his grip.  I turned around to face him, feeling relieved, and said, "Thank You Sir."  I felt like I learned a lot. Even though it was hard to say such naughty things, it also felt good to say those dirty things, and I appreciated Sir giving me permission by demanding I say them.

I started to compose myself and got ready to leave the room.  "Where do you think you are going, Missy?"  he said, reaching to the table for the paddle.  "You still require your punishment."  He pointed to the edge of the table.  "Life your skirt, bend over the table, and spread your legs."

My heart, which had just started to calm, pounded fiercely again.  I had hoped to sneak away without discipline, but the Headmaster is not one to forget or change his word when it comes to punishment.

"Yes, Sir", I said, moving to the table, and doing as he requested...