Bigger (love) on the Inside

Kink.com Bondage Woman

I have lunch scheduled with a friend for today. He is an old friend from an old life and the last time we talked it was about how one of our close mutual friends had “fallen in with a bad crowd”. What he meant by this was that she was working for Kink.com. I kept quiet. I did not talk about the fact that I had a membership to kink.com, or the fact that ZeeGee and I used it. I did not mention that we had just come out as non-monogamous or that we were kinky. It seemed like more than was fair to dump on him all at once and if I was going to say anything, I was going to say everything.

When it rains, it pours…

I will not do this in half measures. If this is important enough to tell him about, if he is important enough to tell then I am telling him everything. My life is an open book to those I am close enough to. Maybe it is too much for him. He is a good guy with a kind heart and I am not sure if the idea of being cruel, brutal, and controlling are traits he can see without negative connotations. Maybe it is stronger than our friendship.

This is an idea I have been contemplating since before this all began. I have always made friends easily, partially because I am easy-going and willing to listen, and partially because I am willing to talk about what seem to be intimate details of myself. The truth is that I do not consider many of those details intimate and many of the people who were my “friends” are nothing more than acquaintances. When I began to let my inner-self out and I realized that he would not be accepted by most of the people I was associating with, I simply stopped talking to those people. I was not losing something, I was not falling away from real friends because in many cases they did not really know me.

This went for family, and high school friends, and people I met when I first moved to Chicago. They did not know what I was really thinking. I was not losing confidants. I was not losing my secret confessors because I was never telling them secrets, I was never  confessing.

Opening the door to the TARDIS

So he is coming over and I am going to invite him into my house but something will be/is different. I am not going to hold back my thoughts and feelings like I did before. I have come to terms with the fact that I am a monster at times.  I am ok with what I want and who I am. I am also ok with others knowing that. If I have invited you into my house, over my threshold then I feel you can enter into my world. I am not sure what will come of this small experiment in outing myself to my past. Perhaps I will find that this is not what I want. perhaps the world is not ready for my honesty. We will see but in the meantime I have clothes to fold and dishes to wash and all of time and space to explain.

 

PostScript

The meeting went well and all he said to me was, “why didn’t you tell me before?” I told him that I thought he would judge me and he explained that his concerns had always been for how quickly our friend fell in love and had nothing to do with the lifestyle. It was comforting to hear. Not many people understand where any of us are coming from.

 

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Sickness and Mastery

Dedita has been sick. She is hot and cold, has aches and stiff joints. It is the flu and has had her laid up for a day and a half. On Sunday night as the flu set in, she began to show how she acts when sick. She was cranky and combative but incredibly servile and tried with all the energy she had to clean the house and finish her chores. I watched as she fought  the sickness like a little girl fighting the need for sleep and I was enamored. It is in these off moments that we learn more about ourselves and our relationship than anywhere else.

A sick slave is both sick and a slave which is to say that I as her master have to be both firm and caring. She needs to be looked after by the loving and the brutal sides at the same time. If you do not take care of the flu, the sickness will take over and make her miserable but it is the dynamic that gives her comfort and shows love. The strange thing is that as I saw this developing, I could see that it was a place I not only could understand, but one I enjoyed.

I got medicine out and made her take it while she sat on the couch trying to wrap her head around the work she had to do for the day. It was too strenuous for the state she was in so I gave her nighttime medicine so she could sleep. While she slept I got my writing done for the day so as to be able to pay attention to what she needed in the way of care. I left several of the smaller tasks in place throughout the day so she could feel like she was active. She lays out my clothes every morning and packs the boys lunches. These chores are quick and relatively painless so she could work on them in the moments when her energy returned and be done before it waned again. I helped her with a few of the heavier chores such as the dishes to make sure she felt my presence and knew that even though she was sick the house was being managed.

She hates to be touched when sick but like all little girls, she needs to feel strong arms around her, especially in these moments. I would kiss her forehead and rub her back frequently but briefly so as to not over stimulate her sensitive skin. I have clothing requirements for her. She is to wear skirts and dresses, always being sexually available to me but in these moments I know she is not sexual. I let her dress down, wear pants, big wool socks, etc for now but I still have needs so when she is better I will be more than making up for this dry spell the flu has imposed on me. I use this time to think of ways I can use her body. I browse the internet for ideas and let my blood warm with future torments.

The most interesting thing I have noticed about how my Dedita is when sick is that she is a cranky brat. She has a short fuse and is easily irritated. Little things that are the way things are she would normally accept but make her growl and snap when she is sick. I do not let these pass without comment or a stern look that tells her that she has stepped out of line but the punishments will not come until later. A quick word in a sharp tone puts her back into place and then I let it drop. No need to drag out lectures when she is not acting herself. These little bites and barks are nothing more than the flu talking. I am not going to train the flu out of her so while they cannot go unattended, they can not be changed.

Our oldest boy is home today, sick with the flu. Dedita is still sick and lonely as I try and write and take care of him as well as her. I am gathering them together and we are heading out to the thrift store. The fresh air and change of venue will do us all good. I am looking forward to the time away from the house because it helps her to remember her place in the greater world; at my side

The Chronicle of a Newly Minted Master

Original: http://gregorystgermain.tumblr.com/post/30982923852

It has been four years since ZG and I started our first explorations of the power dynamic. Up to then I had no idea that people voluntarily gave up control to others in these types of games and relationship. ZG was reading trashy romance novels where the heroines were strong, brash young things just waiting to be put in their proper places by stronger men. We were on vacation, just the two of us for the first time in years, and in the morning I was feeling horny. She was not and after a little back and forth about who this always seemed to be the case she turned to me and said, “You are in control. You don’t have to stop just because I don’t like it.” It was a revelation for her. She was able to give up control and be used as someone else desired. It took me much longer.

 

When we were young…

That first encounter told me I could use her but at the time I did not understand what was meant by the word “use”. I felt as if it meant that I could roll over onto her in the morning and fuck until I came then I was to  pull out and grab a shower. I thought what I was being offered was nothing more than a warm hole on occasion without the need for foreplay. Don’t get me wrong, the idea of having a fuck toy at your beck and call was alluring even before I knew what that truly meant. I was simply not aware of what that could really entail. What she was really offering me was the ability to use her in any way I wanted. I could fuck her mouth, cunt, ass. I could fold her in half or try and fit both my hands in her ass. I could put my dick so far down her throat she passed out. I could fuck her with bottles or dildos. It meant things I did not even know were things (suturing and genitorture) and things I could not even imagine liking (rape and watersports). What I was being offered was a new way of looking at the very foundation of relationships. What I did not know then was that what ZG was offering me was a way of gaining control of my life that I had thought was not possible.

I am an observational learner. I have to see something happen to understand it. I could not pick up a book on being a dominant or master and read about the ins and outs of power exchange. I had to see the interaction, watch people control and be controlled. I had to try and fail and try again and fail again until I was comfortable. I started with simple D/s and tried to define it as something that happened in the bedroom only. ZG and I were an egalitarian couple and I was afraid that even though she said she wanted it, I was going to end of fucking things up by pushing this too hard. D/s was not enough for us and we struggled to build this new dynamic on the constantly shifting sands of uncertainty. She did not know what she wanted. I did not know what I wanted and more importantly neither of us knew what we wanted.

It has been four years now and I am starting to understand what I want more. I can see what is available in the way of relationships and control. When you have someone who gives of herself so completely, the way they dress, the way they act, the way they sleep and eat, you begin to feel like you have a place in her life. I like having that place. It makes me secure to exert control to that level. A submissive is willing to give of themselves to a point. There is always an implied veto where they can say no to a command if they feel it is too unreasonable and it will not destroy the relationship. A slave does not make that distinction. They give themselves so completely. There is no thought to saying no. This is comforting because it means you can focus on making decisions not figuring out how to make the decision stick. It also means that you have to choose your path with a level of intent and meaning you would not have to have if it were a D/s paradigm. That person who has given everything she is to you must be taken care of. she must be handled in a way that watches out for her because she is putting her faith in you in a way that is pure. It is a lot of pressure but it is also an amazingly liberating way of living.

 

So things change, people change, interest rates…

I do not have the relationship I wanted with ZG. We talk about it now and again and both agree it was a pipe dream to think we could have it. We were not the same people when we met. We did not know what was out there, what we wanted, who we were. It is sad to see things change when you can still remember the good times. It seems so easy to think back and see how you got where you are and feel that maybe, just maybe you can retrace your steps and try again. You can’t. Time is a path we walk down backwards. You cannot go back. You cannot know what you have learned. You can only hope you learn from the past and work to be a better person from what you learned. I hope that I know myself better now. I hope I understand what I need better and the things I did before that let my past relationship slip through my fingers. It saddens me to lose something that meant so much but I will not let that get in the way of me making things better for me and mine.

 

PS – I have been thinking about the idea of ownership because of this but will leave that for another post.

Finding new dynamics

Titles are important. Labels give us a place to start when thinking about someone and how they interact with the world. We know who we are by the names we give ourselves, the names others give us. In this game of musical chairs that is my relationships, I am made to think about this more than I have in a long time. What am I to those I love? What are they to me? What is important to keep in the dissolution of old ties and what can be left behind?

I am still married. I will be for a while since that is not a connection I want to lose just yet. ZG was my best friend and is the mother of my children. I keep that connection to her because it is not a relationship I walk away from easily but the more familiar connections, the protection, the D/s is not there. It is okay. Life changes, we move on. The irony is that this is the easier relationship to define. It is the known. It is the connection that I know and feel most comfortable drawing lines around. What I have with my new girl is much more challenging.

 

Girlfriend

The title is simple and self explanatory. She is a girl and she is my friend but this is conventional moniker. It conveys a vanilla relationship, an egalitarian connection between two people. A boyfriend and a girlfriend ride bikes together and argue over whether they are going to rent a romantic comedy or an action film. A boyfriend makes his move by being smooth and putting his hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder in the theater. We began this dynamic knowing neither of us wanted parity. She wanted someone who would control her and I wanted someone to control. She meets me with eyes that show her desire to be told what to do, where to stand, what to say.

 

Slave

She considers herself a slave. It is a frame of mind for her. I cannot explain it as well as she can. The enslavement is a feeling of belonging, a place in someone’s life. She makes my life run smoother. She is the reason I can be writing now and not losing my shit, trying to wrangle the boys. The problem is in the title. For me to address her to others as “my slave” makes me throw up a little in my mouth. I get a feeling of Gorean melodrama. I see her as collared and branded and memorizing the positions. I am a modern man. I have no need for titles that smack of elitism. My place in her life and hers in mine are based on mental connections and desires. They do not need to be formal.

 

Girl

She is my girl. I look at her as my girl, as someone I protect. I see her as my child, helping me to make the house I want. My home is my castle and I am the king, she is my princess learning to rule as I would have her rule. The trick is that there is more to it than just that. She is a child in many ways but she is also a woman. She has a daddy who has raised her to be strong and healthy. I am not starting from scratch.

 

Captive

A large part of our sexual relationship and our power dynamic is based on my controlling her every move and training her to be mine. I wash her brutally, scrubbing her raw and violating her while cleaning. I hold her in the water and force my cock into her throat. She knows her place when we shower is curled up in the corner with her mouth open. I disrupt her sleep, I control her orgasms. I make her cum on command and fear my touch as much as she craves it. This dance of kindness and brutality draws her to me in a way that allows me to take her shopping and still feel the connection. She has a cast down look that says that she wants to escape the pain but craves the care too much to run away.

 

So what is it? What is the name, the title, the label that I put on her and our relationship? Is she my girl, girlfriend, slave or captive? Short answer is yes, she is all this and so much more. We are mental players. We feel more and see more with our minds’ eyes. She is fulfilling in this connection and I look forward to watching it grow.

Sunday

ZG and I are separating. It has been a long time in coming or is a sudden change brought about by the actions of a few short minutes. It really depends on your perspective. It is not how I hoped it would be. I do not feel good about and the sadness that is filling the air these days is almost too much to bare. In the end it will be ok. We will all be ok. These are the honest lessons of this life we lead. It is neither good nor bad, it just is.

I still think we should have taught the class on polyamory. The five of us in the chaos that is our lives could have had a round table discussion to explore the dangers, the benefits, the ideals and the realities of living like this. Is it worth it? Does it work? The verdict is still out. No one said it was going to be easy.

Is it worth it? Is the attempt to hold multiple relationships of that level together worth it? That is question for each person to answer individually. I think so. For me the love you feel for different people is worth the pain that it may cause. Then again, maybe I am just a glutton for punishment. The pain can be intense. The loneliness that you can find in a crowd is almost too much but I know that none of us meant to hurt the others. We are human, we have human flaws and those flaws give us the remarkable ability to implode and explode and cause collateral damage.

But we grow. We change and try to become better people, deciphering the difference between the wants brought about by self-doubt and fear of change and the needs of the soul that unconsciously starves. The journey is not over, in fact this seems to be some of the darkest days but I do not regret heading out in this direction. I have found pieces of myself that I would have never found otherwise.

Letting Go

My youngest son has always been a challenge to punish. You could not take away his favorite toy or blanket because before he had learned his lesson he had given up on holding on to whatever it was that you took. If you sat him in a corner he would find ways of entertaining himself. The boy is unphased by change and has learned to appreciate what he has no matter how little or how much that is. It is a good lesson for the rest of us. Let go of the temporal and embrace the present.

Life is in flux now. Change seems more prevalent than ever before. I know this is not entirely true, we are surrounded by constant and never-ending change. Still it feels like there is more change swirling around me now. As I sit here smoking and reflecting on all that is different now from just a few short weeks ago I am reminded of my little sage’s philosophy. Holding on to that which has passed or what was not only fills you with regret and doubt, it makes you miss what is right in front of you. This blindness to the present good only creates more regret in the future. We should let go, experience the movement of life and embrace what gives us joy. Love what you had but not at the expense of what you have.

For My (first) Birthday

I have two every year. It is a long story and has nothing to do with this post. Mariela asked me yesterday what I wanted for my birthday by which she meant what sort of kinky shit I want to do. What I want is a felony and therefore I won’t go into it but it got me thinking about what I want that I can actually have.

Kink has been an amazing way of getting to make the world I have always wanted. If I am able to imagine it, for the most part, I am able to have it. Sex, pain, love, hate, the whole world of human emotions has been opened up and I am able to experience what it means to be human in its entirety. Existence is multifaceted, there are angles so often feared and left unexplored. There are dimensions infinitely long and infinitely thin running like threads through the world that we see and know. Pain in people who should know no pain. Joy in moments that we expect to find no pleasure in.

The book Flatland, is the story of a creature that exists in one-dimensional space. There in no height or depth, only width. One creature, say a circle, can tell another creature, say a triangle, by how it’s width changes when they are in contact with each other. I’ll give you a minute to ruminate on that.

One day this creature is taken into a second dimension. Looking down on the plane that was his existence, he can see the shapes of things in ways that he never had before. This two dimensional Virgil shows him another world within his own world and he is never the same again. This happens again and the wise two dimension creature is taken into three-dimensional space and realizes the narrowness of even his understanding.

This can go on and on.

I am a one-dimensional creature which has seen the second and third dimensions. I am at once aware that the world I know is far more complex that I initially understood but also that it is infinitely more complex than I can fathom still. I am suspended between exploring the nuance of what has been revealed and diving deeper to see how deep I can go before being crushed by the weight of all there is.

What do I want for my birthday? I want to dive slowly. I want to slowly descend through the layers of existence starting with those I was born understanding, down through this new world of shades of gray and into the lightless pit beyond. I want to hold my breath and feel the burn, I want to hear the pressure changing in my head. I want to be a piece of coal compressed and heated, changed and realigned until I am a more hardened and crystalline creature. I want to come back from this experience and cut and polish my soul until it catches and imprisons the light.

Besides, I always have another birthday to make her drink my piss from another girl’s asshole.