Saturday, September 10, 2016

A Giant Status

The summer is over, fall has come. And with fall comes more volunteer work and preparations for next year's big volunteer event. Giant is the head of the entire project this year, and I've agreed to work for him. Work with him.

I need to take stock and try to figure out how I feel about that. About him.

I wrote in the Giant Summary that I learned that it's possible for me to juggle three men. However, that takes a lot of dedication, and willingness to cooperate, and compromise, from all parties involved. I was feeling resentful and bitter towards Giant for not being willing to dedicate himself to me. Not in the same way that I was willing to dedicate myself to him. I wanted to make it work. I wanted to make us all work, even with the new girl. He didn't, and that made me feel hurt and angry.

I couldn't understand: If he loved me as much as he said... As much as I loved him... Why wasn't he willing to do as much for me as I was for him?

I still don't "get" that, but I've grown to accept that this is how it is.

And I've realised it's for the best. We would have made terrible romantic partners. Our communication just wasn't working properly. We kept mis-communicating, arguing, misunderstanding and getting angry at eachother over... Nothing. In the end, I started recognizing a pattern of communications that I haven't seen since the boyfriend I had before I met T (when I was 19). Giant was never loud or violent or dangerous, I feel certain he'd never physically hurt me... But we were falling into the same patterns that I've seen before. Maybe I'm just not a match with some people? Not sure why or how or who's fault it is. Probably a bit of both.

However, I'm still convinced that we'd make pretty great sexual partners. Whether it would just be ropes (fully clothed), or it would involve pegging, or domination, or just the vanilla sex stuff (like oral), or most likely a bit of everything... We'd rock at it. Sexually, we work really, really well together. As long as we both mostly shut up and don't think too much. Don't speak too much. The sexual stuff was awesome, and could probably be awesome again.

However, I don't think I could do that. Not now, when I've just started to accept that I can't be in a relationship with him. Why? Because I love my subs. Every. Single. One.

Some I just love for the minutes or hours of play. The intensity of the connection, or even just being able to gift someone new with a good experience. I love them, and want the best for them. It's so fleeting, it's almost gone before it's arrived. But it's still love, of sorts.

Some I love for weeks, or months. Like Tight, or Corvus, and even War (though he was never a sub, just a lover). Eventually, the feeling of love passes. Passions decline, the connection disappears, and love is gone. Only fondness remains.

And some, like Saint, I love for years and years. Like I love T (though he's certainly not a sub).

I could love Giant for months, maybe years. That's what it feels like right now. I don't know when that will pass. I don't know how to make it pass. And because this is so raw, so new, so strong, I don't think I should get sexually involved with him now. I don't want to fan the flames, because I'm not certain that I'd be content with just a sexual relationship. Despite my better judgement, I might want something more than that. And as we've already established, that's not a good idea.

I don't think about him every day anymore. More like every week. My life is still filled by memories of him. Practical things.. I'm still occasionally listening to his playlist on Spotify. He was the last one logged into Netflix on my laptop. I see his posts on Facebook. I see her posts. It's incredible how many memories and connections can be formed in under ten weeks of dating. I haven't actually seen him in real life since he dumped me.

I still occasionally think about sucking his cock. Of running my hands over his chest and shoulders. Lifting my gaze, making him yield to me with just a look. Of pushing into him with a strap-on, staring down at his face. I miss his body, his reactions, his face when he's turned on, the feeling of his hair through my fingers. I miss the sexual stuff. I don't really miss the rest, because those good memories got clouded by arguments and lies. But the sexual stuff... That feels like it's worth missing.

Despite my better judgement, I'd probably come running if he crooked his finger at me.
So how do I feel about working with him again? Scared, mostly.

Scared because I still love him, and wish I didn't. Scared because he has this power over me, when I wish he didn't. Scared because I don't wish to hurt anyone... Not the new girl. Not him. Not Saint. Not T. Scared because I don't feel in control of myself. I hate not being in control.

I'm scared because I expect that we'll keep misunderstanding each other, and not know how to work it out. I can't fix that, and I doubt he can either. Despite both of us making valid attempts.

Will it all work out in the end?
Probably.

We'll probably act really professional around each other. Put on the mask of "co-workers", maybe even the mask of "friends". We're both professional enough in this job to make it work, we know what needs to be done.

I just feel scared. And I miss him.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Workshops, from both sides

This fall will be full of learning experiences, and I'll both be teacher and student.

It starts off in about a week. I've been asked to hold a one-evening long workshop in basic rope bondage for a BDSM organisation in a neighbouring town. I'm flattered to be asked, and more than a little nervous. I've never viewed myself as any kind of expert in rope bondage.

Of course, an expert isn't what they want. They want someone to teach them the basics. And so I've agreed to do the workshop, as that's something I think I can do.

A BDSM youth organisation (for people ages 16 to 30) has also asked if I would do a similar workshop for them. I've not agreed yet, as I want to wait and see how the first workshop will go. But assuming the first one goes well, I'll probably agree to do the same workshop for them as well.

Back in 2014, T and I held a lecture on aftercare at a BDSM conference. Since then, T has been to several cities and held the same lecture for smaller groups. So it's been more of a workshop/discussion kind of format.

Now, we've been asked to hold the same lecture/workshop here in our local BDSM club. And this time, we're doing it together again. This time, the aftercare lecture will be coupled with a lecture about pain. So T and I have been working together to make the new lecture as well.

It's fun to work with him on these projects, as we have such different approaches to BDSM in general and pain specifically. I'm a sadist. I enjoy hurting people. He's a service top and to a degree a dominant. He likes doing stuff that the other person likes. This means I'm much more inclined to push on the sub's boundaries, to show them that they can take more than they thought they could. To laugh at their pain. To revel in it. T is such a good guy... So while he is willing to hurt people, he's always doing it for them. Not for himself. That's the fundamental difference, I think. And I think both those perspectives are useful in a lecture on pain. (I'd probably come off as too scary for the newbies, if T wasn't there to temper the impression. )

On the learning side, I've signed up to participate in two fabulous bondage workshops this October. One about the "rope interview" and how to communicate through rope. The other on floor work, spontaneous bondage and basic suspension. There's a limited number of spots, and I don't know if I get in yet. But I hope I do.

For the first workshop, I'll be going with Saint. I'm so looking forward to spending a whole evening with him in ropes. I want us to learn and to grow together. Amsterdam was really good for us, and I want to build on that.

For the second workshop, Saint wasn't able to go. So I made my first ever add on Fetlife, where I announced that I was searching for a rope bunny for this specific workshop. I'd expected to be flooded with bullshit replies, but to my surprise I wasn't. Maybe because I'd been so specific in my add about the kind of person I was looking for.. Maybe because I wasn't looking for a sexual partner or anything long term, just a bunny for the workshop.. I don't know. I got a couple of replies that were terribly written, and where I still don't understand what the message was, but that was about it. The remaining small handful of replies were thoughtful and nice.

In the end, there was only one candidate that seemed a good enough match. Last Sunday we met up for the first time, to chat and potentially do some bondage if the mood was right. He turned out to be a quiet, nervous 45 year old (for reference, I'm 30). He had quite a bit of bondage experience, but very little experience as a sub. And he was obviously craving to let the sub out. I tied his hands, quickly put them behind his head, and tied a rope around his chest. His reaction was immediate, spontaneous and obviously submissive, and I couldn't help but respond with more dominance.

However, dominance wasn't the deal. It wasn't what I'd planned, and it wasn't what we'd agreed. So I backed off. He was obviously craving more, asking for more, and in doing more bondage he also got a bit more dominance on the side. But I didn't try to keep up the tension, I didn't make it into a session, I kept backing off. Kept letting him back "up" mentally, kept talking to him as an equal.

Still, he kept submitting to me at the slightest touch of the ropes. I don't think he even understood what he was doing, what signals he kept sending out. He couldn't help himself. And when someone is so obviously a sub, and you have them tied up, and they're responding so clearly and strongly, not moving forward is really hard. Still, I think I managed fairly well.

In the end, he was ecstatic. He kept thanking me, saying that I had a way with the ropes unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. I explained to him that for me this was no big deal. So while this might have a deep and personal effect on him, he shouldn't expect the same from me. I was also VERY clear that we would be partners at the workshop, and only that. I didn't want to hurt him, and I didn't want to get involved with him.

He said he understood. As a sub, I think he was like a man stranded in the desert. He'd take any sip of water, no matter how little, and be grateful for it. Sure, he's craving more. But I don't have any more to give. I'm looking forward to tying him up during the workshop, but that will be learning. Not play. And he knows that.

Hopefully, there won't be any hard feelings or drama after this. I think I've been clear enough.

Saturday, July 9, 2016

An exhibitionist's dream (Showboat part 3)

I'm an exhibitionist. The idea that someone gets turned on by watching me, turns me on. The idea that someone I don't know, and who don't know me, sees me and gets turned on by me, turns me on. The idea that someone might accidentally see me in a sexual setting, and get turned on by it, turns me on.

It's my oldest kink. I remember realizing that I was an exhibitionist when I was 13 years old. I was at a nudist beach in Oslo with my mum, and an older man (probably in his 60ies) lay down uncomfortable close to us on the beach. He lay sideways, watching us. Watching me. And his dick was semi-hard. He wasn't touching himself, not doing or saying anything inappropriate, just watching. Being turned on by me.

I knew I should be grossed out by it, or scared, but I wasn't. I got horney too. Back home, I did an internet search on the phenomenon and found my label: Exhibitionist. That summer, I took several long walks in the forests around my home.. Wearing short skirts and no panties, laying down in semi-secluded spots and masturbating. Imagining that someone was watching me from the bushes.

Since then, I haven't done much to scratch my exhibitionistic side. Sure, T and I had sex once in front of people, at a cabin trip with a group of BDSMers. It was kind of clunky and didn't work out as well as it could have. It was fun to have done it, but like most things it works better in my fantasies than in real life. Sure, I've walked around without underwear sometimes, and I've played topless at our BDSM club several times. I've had sex in the water at a beach once.. But most such situations don't really work as well in real life as they do in my mind. Or they don't work at all, because they feel practical and not sexy. Also, I don't want to put unknown people in uncomfortable situations. Random people usually don't expect, or want, to see other people naked and touching each other. I also struggle to orgasm if I can see or hear people I don't trust or know really well. That also puts quite a damper on my exhibitionist side. 

Saint has fingered me once or twice, sitting on the floor in a rather secluded spot in our BDSM club. People could see us, but most don't even notice we're there. That has scratched my exhibitionist itch, sure. It turns me on relentlessly, but the people walking back and forth, talking and laughing, are a distraction. I can't orgasm in such a setting, I just get really horny and frustrated. 

Anyway, last night at Showboat... Everything just worked.

After we'd finished with our session, we went back upstairs for some cuddling and aftercare. We found a secluded spot, a huge empty couch in a dark corner. From this spot, I could still see most of the dance floor, one of the staircases from the basement, and one of the smoking rooms. They weren't that many meters off. But the dance music was loud, so I couldn't really hear anyone not inches from my face. We were clearly visible to others, but not really obvious. Not in-your-face.

We sat talking and cuddling for a while, and then I took Saint's hand and placed it on my crotch. He started stroking and petting me, through my pants and panties. I grew more and more turned on, while I was watching people walking and talking just a few meters away. I removed my pants and pulled my panties aside, and he kept stroking me. (I'm on my period, so no unplanned fingering at this time of the month.)

Eventually, I couldn't stand it anymore. I removed the panties as well, and started touching myself. Now, I usually never orgasm without the aid of a vibrator, but I know that I can do it. I just do it very rarely, in fact so rarely that Saint has never experienced it. The primary reason is that it's both easier and better with a vibrator than without one. But I still know it's possible.

I started rubbing my clit, alternating between having my eyes closed to shut all the people out, and having them open to see all the people. (Yeah, I know, I'm confusing.) 

Like I said, we were in a rather dark area off to the side, but we were still visible. At least a couple of people noticed what I was up to, but they just smiled and passed us by. I was glad for the respect they showed us, by not remaining there or interfering in any way.. No one acted sleazy or stood staring..

Though..  I wouldn't have minded if they stood staring at me, their dick in hand. (As long as they kept a respectful distance and didn't speak or otherwise interrupt me.) As an exhibitionist, the thought that my body or my actions can turn other people on, is part of the turn-on.

So I lay there, touching myself. And I came. In a room full of people, in full view, I orgasmed. Writing about it now, again I'm soaking wet. It was an exhibitionist's dream come true, or at least my dream come true. 

I enjoyed our time at the Showboat. It was a great party and a lovely, intense play session with Saint. But what truly made my night.. Was this. Masturbating myself to orgasm, in full view of other party goers. 

Earlier today, when I had the hotel's jacuzzi to myself, I masturbated again while thinking about last night. A few other people were in the swimming pool and sauna nearby. Anyone could have walked by and seen me, and it would have been awkward and not sexy at all. But I still came, right there. Thinking about last night.

And now, the moment I press "publish" on this post, I will have Saint finger me. And I will orgasm again.

I think this is the single hottest thing I've done in years.

Tie and tease, with latex (Showboat part 2)

Saint and I played twice while we were at Showboat, doing basically the same thing both times. Saint was dressed in a latex body suit covering him from mid thigh to neck (like shorts and a t-shirt, only connected and made of latex). He also wore a full latex hood, with holes for eyes and mouth. (Around his neck was his collar, and I led him around on a leash.) Being a latex fetishist, this was really a dream night for him. I also wore my long latex gown, which he bought for me about a year ago. 

Both times we played, I layed him on his back on a padded bench. I blindfolded him and put a ball gag in his mouth. Already at this point, he was drifting into sub mode. Calm, submissive and horny. I attached his arms and legs to the bench, using some of it's numerous attachment points. Then I started to tie down the rest of his body, using rope. At this point, I had to interrupt our first session, because Saint really wanted to catch the fetish show that would go on at midnight. Once that was over, we went back and started again. 

Both the sessions, this one couple kept watching us. I made sure I stood so that they could clearly see what I did. I enjoy teaching, after all, and don't mind showing off a little. We spoke to them a bit afterwards. He was fairly experienced, a switch who craved to be the sub. She was completely inexperienced, but curious and willing to learn. I explained a fair bit about us and our dynamic. We spoke with them at length after all our playing was done, and they ended up driving us back to Amsterdam. Which saved us 60+ euros on taxi. Very fortunate, and very nice people.

But back to the next play session: 
Saint's legs were spread apart and tied down to the bench. Ropes running across his stomach. His chest and arms tied down to the bench, so tight he could barely lift his head. Gaged. Blindfolded. Covered from mid thigh to the top of his head in latex. Yeah, he was a happy latex- and bondage fetishist, all right.

I then proceeded to tease him, spank him, tickle him, pinch him and stroke him. I used the new crop/tawse on his inner thighs, as well as several other spanking implements. I pinched his nipples, through the latex. I threatened to hit the groin area. I did hit it a few times too, though not as hard as I pretended I would. I spoke to him, asking him to fight against the bondage and really feel how helpless he was. I reminded him that people were watching us. 

I carefully unzipped the latex suit... Just the zipper in the groin area. I let his dick and balls out into open air. The rest of him was still wrapped, hugged, covered in latex. I sucked on his dick and stroked his balls, while alternating between hurting his thighs and stimulating his nipples. I love giving a combination of pleasure and pain like that. It's a real mind fuck.

I then removed the blindfold. He was still gagged. Once his vision had cleared, I carefully and slowly let globs of my spit dribble onto his face. It ran into his eyes and down into the corners of his mouth. My spit worked itself into his mouth, because he was lying on his back, and he had to struggle to swallow while still gagged. He felt humiliated and small and dirty. He knew people were watching us, seeing his humiliation. Seeing his body tied down, his dick hanging out, his face being spat upon. And it turned him on like nothing else I'd done that night! 

It was not only the humiliation, or so he told me afterwards, but the exhibitionism. So says the man who used to hate playing in public. And who didn't like humiliation at all. Who still hates public play and humiliation, to some extent. (I blame the latex. He must have been drunk on it. High. Or something.)

Afterwards, I loosened the bonds, removed the gag and he just lay there. Drifting in subspace. I'd removed my gown, as I was soaked through, and just as he started coming back I lay the latex gown over his face. Getting a face full of latex made him drift again. After a few minutes, he begged me to use the latex gown for breath play. 

I enjoy breath play, and know it turns him on too, so I willingly did as he asked. He started petting his own nipples, and begged to be allowed to masturbate. His dick was rock hard. I told him "no". I wasn't interested in his orgasm, and even if he only edged he'd still leak cum and precum all over himself. I didn't want him to soil himself and his surroundings, not our first time at this club. So even though he kept on begging, I told him "no". I held his head down, one hand pinching his nose, the other one pressing the latex over his mouth and forcing it closed. He used both hands on his nipples, while his hips were rising from the table. He was so horny, he was dry-humping thin air. And yet, I told him "no".

After we'd done as much breath play as I felt like doing, I told him to stop touching himself entirely. And then he just lay there again. Drifting. I was in charge, and I told him we were done.

BDSM / fetish party at Showboat (part 1)

After booking our stay in Amsterdam, Saint did some research and discovered that a large kink event was taking place just that weekend. It's a large, well known BDSM/fetish party that takes place approximately once per month. It's very popular, but luckily we sent emails with some questions a few months before, and managed to get reservations. It takes place a 25 minute drive from the center of Amsterdam, on a large house boat called Showboat. (The rest of the month, the boat is used by a swingers' club.)

We had been advised to come early, so we did. After getting changed and stowing our things into our own private lockers, one of the dungeon monitors gave us a tour. The rules seemed to be mostly the same as in our local BDSM club in Oslo: Clean up after yourself, ask before touching anything/anyone, accept "no" for an answer, keep a respectable distance when people play, and generally don't be an ass.

The major difference between Amsterdam and Oslo was the scale. Showboat is a huge venue! On the ground floor, there was a reception area, toilets, a spacious bar, a large dancefloor, an area for a buffet to be laid out, a kitchen(staff only), two smoking rooms, space allocated for a small kink shop, and several huge, soft couches and other seating areas. There was a DJ the entire night, and dance music was playing loud enough that you had to really speak up to hear each other. The complimentary buffet served both cold cuts, warm food (the paella was really nice), and fruits. At midnight the music stopped for a while, because the dance floor was occupied by a short fetish/bdsm show. The bar and dance floor was fairly well lit with multicolored lights, but there were plenty of dark corners in the seating areas.

In the basement, there were two locker rooms and a "powder room" with mirrors and good lighting so you could get ready for the party. The number on your locker, was also the number on your bar tab. Meaning we didn't need to carry around any money, we just settled our tab at the end of the night. Very practical. There was also the private dungeon of the party hostess, open for anyone to use. That dungeon alone was a bit bigger than the communal play area at our local club in Oslo. It had clear restrictions: Only people playing could enter the dungeon itself. If you only wanted to watch, you needed to stay on the outside and look through barred "windows" in the walls. Also, this dungeon was the only place in Showboat with a clear "no sex"-policy. Everywhere else people were free to do as they pleased, though our guide emphasized that they didn't want the same atmosphere at the BDSM party as you get at a swingers' club (which is much the same as at our local club).

In the basement, there was also two other communal areas for play, both slightly larger than that first dungeon. One was well lit and filled with four padded benches (one with gynecologist style leg rests). This area was close to the showers (not for shy people, they were communal and with only three closed walls), and contained a needle box for those who wanted to do needle play. The second large play area was more dimly lit, soft music in the background. It contained a sex swing, low trusses for rope suspensions, several whipping posts and crosses, and a couch. There was also several smaller playrooms (maybe 4 or 5) with doors that could be closed. Some could be locked from the inside, some could not. You could see into the "private" rooms through small windows, meaning you were never truly private.

We got a really good impression from this party. There were "only" about 180-200 people present, which felt like a fairly thin crowd for such a large venue. (Other people commented upon this being a very slow night, probably because of the summer holidays.) Also, a lot of people started to leave already around 1am, which felt early to me. The bar wouldn't close until 3am, and the basement area not until 4am.

I think it can be hard to come to this party as a single person, maybe especially as a single man. It's not a munch where everyone are chatting, it's a party and I think you can easily feel lonely in such a setting. It was also significantly more expensive for single man than for women or couples. Probably to maintain a semblance of gender balance. While there was no rule against same sex couples, almost all couples I could see were straight. And while there was a surprisingly good gender balance, and surprisingly many dominant women, still the majority was the typical dom man+sub woman. I also didn't see many young people there. The youngest were around 30 years old (like me), with the majority being over 40. So not great diversity over all. Luckily, this wasn't a problem for us personally. We had enough with each other, and just soaking in the atmosphere.

So despite these things, Saint and I had a blast. The other guests were really friendly, and surprisingly easy to talk to. The staff (both dungeon monitors and others) was really nice and welcoming, always ready to answer questions or help out in any way they could. The party has a strict fetish dresscode, which I'm actually quite happy about. It creates a certain atmosphere. People's outfits were amazing, and the aircondition made wearing full latex bearable. The facilities were fantastic. After a long night playing in latex I was soaked with sweat, so taking a shower before changing into a lighter fetish outfit felt divine.

I also really enjoyed the respect people showed for each others' playing. They kept a good distance from us, didn't interrupt or intrude. And when I got involved with something more overtly sexual (more on that exhibitionist's dream in another blog post), people glanced over, smiled, and kept on walking. No one stood and staring at us. (Of course, being an exhibitionist I wouldn't have minded if they'd stood staring at me, with their dick in their hand... But it's the general attitude I'm trying to convey here, not my personal preferences.) People weren't sleazy or disruptive. We all just reveled in each other's kink and tried to enable everyone to have a good time. And we did.

So yeah: BDSM/fetish party at Showboat in Amsterdam. Definitely something I'd recommend!

Guide to BDSM / fetish shopping in Amsterdam

Saint and I are on vacation in Amsterdam. A really lovely city, that has managed to combine old historic buildings with modern architecture and design. Saint has been here several times before, but it's my first time. And I love it here. Walking along the canals. Shopping. Exploring the narrow side streets. Really a wonderful city, even if you don't come here for the alcohol/drugs/partying, like so many tourists do.

We've been here for three days, and so far all we've done is eat, sleep, and go to sex/kink/fetish-stores. No museums (except for the sex museum on our very first day here), no tourist attractions. Just kink-shopping. (Last night we went to a BDSM / fetish party, but that warrants a blog entry of it's own.) Here's a short overview of the various stores we've been to:

The first day, we found a kind of cheap looking BDSM/sex store on a corner at the start of the Red Light District. Not sure what it was called, and he's the only one who didn't recommend any other stores to us. The store had a very good selection of strap-on harnesses, and encouraged us to takes things out of their boxes. The owner even let me try the harnesses on (outside of my clothing, ofcourse), which was very helpful. I'm a larger sized woman, so not everything fits me. After trying on 5 different harnesses, I settled on one that had everything I was looking for: Synthetic materials (not leather), looking neat (nothing pink or fluffy), detachable dildo, changable sized ring, and most importantly: Jock strap style fastenings (not g-string).

Saint and I took it for a test that same night, and we agree it works very well. Now I just want a bigger dildo for it.

I've also bought myself a latex top and a latex g-string (yes, all of a sudden I'm buying my own latex! When did that happen?!?). The string was from a random sex store, and was really cheap. The top was not cheap, but it was SO worth it. It's from a fantastic latex store called Demask, where we got really amazing service. Saint and I spent over 2,5 hours in that store, and I think between us we tried on almost everything close to our sizes. Saint did some latex shopping in Norway right before we left for the holiday, and together with the items from Demask, he's finally got a nice latex outfit or two. He's such a fetishist.

I've also bought a new crop/tawse which stings like hell (Saint loves it). It's from Smart, a store where they make their own leather goods. It was the woman at Demask who recommended Smart to us. Again, great service and a nice chat with the store owner. They have some smart ideas for collapsable spreader bars and adjustable floggers, so we might have to go back there and buy more stuff.

The owner of Smart recommended ROB and Mr.B to us, two BDSM stores mainly focused on men and men's wear. Both these stores had really great quality, and offered to custom make items if we wanted different sizes or looks. We're considering going back to ROB to buy something, because the quality of the leatherwork was really nice, but haven't bought anything yet. At Mr. B, I bought a wrist wallet in this style, approximately. Very handy! Saint also bought some stuff.

Beforehand, I'd been looking at the webshop of Mr. S Leather, and emailed them asking if they had any stores in Europe. They told us about a store in Amsterdam called Underground fetish, that sell their goods. Saint bought some wonderful leather cuffs at this place, having first to go back to Mr. B to get a refund on the cuffs he'd bought earlier that day. Again, amazing service from both stores: Refunds for money (not store credit) usually isn't done in the Netherlands, so Mr. B really helped us out. And while waiting for Saint to come back, the owner of Underground fetish made me tea and chatted with me. Nice fellow.

In every store, we've been searching for more latex clothing for Saint, but everywhere except Demask the largest size has been an extra large (XL). They can all custom make items, but don't have it in stock. Mr. B told us of another kink store called Black Body that specialize in latex for men. They were a bit outside the city center, so we gave them a call: They didn't have any latex larger than XL either, and so we haven't been to their store yet. If you fit into "normal" sizes, I'm sure they're also worth a visit. (I'm a bit disappointed in the general selection of fetish clothing available for larger people, but I expect it's the same everywhere else too.)

So it's been a few busy, sexy days. Amsterdam has impressed me with it's diversity and quality in fetish / kink / bdsm items. The service has been great, most of the stores are within walking distance of each other, and most they speak well of their competitors. If you have a weekend in Amsterdam, I suggest checking out some (or all) of these stores.

Thursday, June 30, 2016

Giant summary

I was looking through my large number of blog posts from these past few months. And I decided: I'm doing a summary of my experiences with Giant. For myself, and for posterity.

It began here, on the 14th of April. The rest of April was a flurry of play and activity and exploration. Lots of NRE.  Lots of play. If anyone wants to read just the sexy bits, April 2016 is the right place to go.
In the middle of May we had our first fight, and I started to get an idea of how vast our communication issues might be. But we still had some play, though I also struggled with my depression a bit.
Around the 10th-11th of June, he told me that he'd lied to me, and that he lies to everyone else as well. He promised me time to get over it, time for him to earn back my trust.
The 16th of June, he told me that he loved me. The next ten days was taken up by stress, work, and fights. Mostly.
On the 25th of June, he started flirting with the new girl (or really, she started flirting with him). I found it hard, but gave them all the support I could.
And today, on the 30th of June, our relationship is over.

Slight de-railing here:
He's turning to her now, giving her 100%. I don't envy her the pressure, or the expectations. To be the cause for someone else's break-up, must feel really painful... But what if the two of them don't work out? What if their relationship to ends too, when so much has been sacrificed and so much pain has been caused to start it.. I would feel terrible, if I was somehow part of that! I don't envy her this position at all.

Though... Maybe these serial monogamists handle it better than I would...? They seem to do those sorts of things all the time: Overlapping, dumping people they care about to be with someone else, cheating, killing their emotions to stay with the relationship they have, lying... It all seems so complicated. So difficult. (Much like what monogamous people say when I explain about polyamory. Haha.) What do I know of the ways of monogamy, anyway? I feel like I outgrew all that drama years ago. I feel like I'm 19 years old again. My ex just dumped me to be with a new girl, whom I'd permitted him to date in the first place. (Oh wait, that actually happened. When I was 19 years old.)

Getting back on track: It's been two and a half intense, exciting, demanding, difficult, joyful months. I'll never look at water melon in quite the same way again. I've (at least partially) overcome my aversion to having my ass played with. I've learned some new bondage techniques, and gotten interested in suspension again. I've bought more rope. I've learned that it IS possible to juggle three men. It just takes a lot of dedication, from all parties involved. But it is possible.

I'm grateful for what we've had. I'm also grateful that he came clean and told me that he wanted to end it, rather than to let me figure out that something was wrong on my own. He didn't do it until he had someone better to turn to, which I'm still kind of bitter about. But at least he was honest. And he doesn't want us to end on bad terms. That's something.

Hopefully, this will not be the last entry tagget "Giant". Hopefully, something else can rise from the ashes. We'll just have to wait and see. He's holding all the cards, so it's up to him. I'm willing.

And then there were two

I still have T and Saint. Thankfully.

They really don't deserve to pick up the pieces of me that Giant has left behind. They don't deserve having to hold me while I cry over another man. They don't deserve that I'm sad and moody and untrusting and scared. They deserve better than me. But that's how it is.

I feel sorry for them. Sorry that I can't be a better wife and girlfriend right now. Sorry that they're stuck with such a mess of a woman. I can only hope that they understand, and that they'll be able to handle it. I love them so much, the last thing I want to do is hurt them. Or be a burden on them.

I'm also thinking about Giant. I don't want to be a burden to him either. I still love him, and probably will continue to love him for a long time. His happiness is my priority. If he's right, that he can never be truly happy with me, I wish him all the best. I hope he finds happiness without me, if that's what it takes. I want him to at least have the chance.

So yes, I'm sad. And I'm angry. And I feel betrayed. But over and under and through it all is love. Like a strong, golden thread, weaving its way in between every thought, every emotion.

He once told me, he's willing to do almost everything for those he loves. Apparently, he's not willing to do (or even try) near enough. But that's ok. I know he's trying his best. I accept that he doesn't want to hurt me, despite all that he's done.

But I still love him. And as opposed to him, I'm willing to do a lot for those I love. If that means loving him enough to let him go, then that's what I have to do. No matter how much it hurts me. Because my well-being is not my first priority. His happiness is.

I hope that we're able to save some sort of BDSM dynamic out of all of this. I'm not sure how well I'll be able to handle a "strictly BDSM"-dynamic, but I'm willing to try. I think it would be good for him, because it would give him an area to continue to explore his kinks. An outlet for his desires, without any strings. And good for us. Because it would ensure a working relationship, in stead of awkward glances and weirdness. We would build something worthwhile from the ruins of this relationship. And we've always been good with the physical, sexual bits. It's when we start talking to eachother that we start to fuck things up.

As for having a BDSM-relationship with him.. I'm not 100% certain it would be good for me. But I'm willing to try. (Also, he's gorgeous. If I get a chance to handle that body again, in any way or form, I will. No matter the potential emotional consequences.) A working BDSM-relationship, with limitations on vanilla-style cuddling and kissing, could perhaps work for everyone involved. Maybe.

I can only hope, and be willing to try. Hopefully, he's willing to try as well. Right now, everything is raw. New. Broken. I don't know what will work out or what won't work out. I wish him all the best. In whatever form that takes.

In the end, I still have T and Saint. It's not all that I want, but at least I'm not alone. At least somebody still loves me. Even though they both deserve better than me. At least I can TRY to trust that I'm still good enough for someone. Even though I wasn't enough for Giant.

An ending

This will be shorter than it should have been. Because my arm really hurts (something with the tendons, I think. shouldn't be using the computer much at all, really).

Basically: Giant dumped me today.

He did it very properly. Like everything he does. Well prepared. Face-to-face. Compassionate. Reasonable. And yet stubborn. Proud. Unyielding. Uncommunicating. Unforgiving. Hard.

I could see that it pained him. I could tell that he didn't want to hurt me. That he cared for me, and wanted me to be happy... But at the same time, he didn't want me to be with him.
How he'd ever expect me to be happy, and yet be abandoned, I don't know.

His reason? He claims that he can only ever love one person at once... Or rather: Only ever have one relationship at once. So he's throwing everything we have away, because of a crush on a girl he started flirting with this weekend. A girl 11 years his junior, who lives on the other side of the country.

I was willing to share him. She was willing to share him. And yet, he's refusing even to try.

I call it the coward's way out. The easy way. To not even try. Not give us a chance. Maybe it wouldn't have worked out, but now we'll never know. Because he'd already decided, before we started talking.
No middle ground, no compromise, no attempt at negotiation. Done.

He claims to have thought about this for about three-four weeks. But it didn't seem so urgent then, because he hadn't met anyone else to attempt to have a relationship with (I was good to keep around in the meantime, it seems). Also, there wasn't any good time to speak about it, because of all the volunteer work we've both have been involved in.

I feel angry. It feels like such a waste. We had three really good weeks, while I was struggling to draw him out of his shell (out of a depression). Helping him get over his ex. But the lies kind of ruined those weeks for me, in hindsight. Then we started again, building trust and love. He told me that he loved me in the middle of June. (He claims that he still does, but apparently that's not enough to even try to make this work.) And then the next three-four weeks were spent working on our volunteer project. Seeing each other a lot, but having NO time for "us".

It seemed like we'd finally have some time for the two of us now. I was so looking forward to that. To continue building on the base that we'd made. I believed our hardships and struggles made us stronger.

Then she came. And then he was gone.
And I'm left with a broken heart.

Monday, June 27, 2016

The tricky bits

I still stand by my choice of last night.

But the most difficult part is this... Right now. Because I've told him that ALL I need and ALL I want is cuddles. And I've barely gotten a hug so far.

But he cuddles her. Right now. Sitting on the floor, leaning up against her, looking all lovey dovey.

I don't want to take that from him. But I wish he'd invite me to join them. He's got two arms. Two shoulders. Or, if he's afraid that she'd feel awkward about that, that he'd compensate in some other way. Reaching out to me, taking the initiative to hug me, kiss me. We haven't kissed properly since Friday night.

So she's not a problem. I stand by my choice, and I applaud them. I feel lots of compersion in this situation. But I also feel rejected. I feel ignored, as if I'm not a priority. That feels like a problem, to me.

He's tired, and stressed, and overworked, and not slept enough. I KNOW that he's not thinking straight. He'd not trying to hurt me. But in a way, that's even worse. Because it's the instinctive reaction. And his instinctive reaction is not to include or prioritize me.

He's tired, and tressed, and overworked, and not slept enough. If that meant that he didn't have energy for anyone or anything, that would also be ok. I wouldn't mind that. But that's not how it is.

She's only around for a couple of more days. I should just bow out and let them go at it.

It's just difficult.

Sunday, June 26, 2016

Emotional daisy chain

This is written at 2am on Sunday morning. I've worked all day at a convention, and will be working almost all of tomorrow as well. I'm tired and feeling down. That's the caveat.

Saint was supposed to be here at the convention with me, but has had a minor psychological break down. So he's at home, recuperating. I wish I could be there with him, to take care of him, but I can't.

T is here as well, but we're involved with wildly different things this weekend. We almost won't see each other at all. What little we will see of eachother will be convention work. No personal time.

Giant is here, and I was looking forward to spending time with him. We had some quick fun in the shower yesterday, though I knew we wouldn't have the energy for something similar today. I was looking forward to cuddling up with him at the end of a long day, and sleeping close to him.

No. Let me be honest: I was looking forward to cuddling up with SOMEONE. I originally wanted that to be Saint, that was the plan. But with him back home, Giant was a good enough stand-in. You see, I'm tired, mentally and physically. I want cuddles and hugs and support and kisses and kind smiles and warm hands. Whose doesn't matter as much right now. These are my needs. Impersonal.

I read recently about the emotional daisy chain of polyamorous relationships: How emotional labour can move from one to another, settling on whoever is able or willing to carry the burden. So when Beauty's new boyfriend is struggling with accepting her polyamory, Beauty gets stressed out. This is carried over to T, who supports her emotionally. T gets tired and stressed out, and so some of this (not all, as T shields me fairly well) is carried over to me.

Saint is struggling mentally, and this puts a strain on our relationship. He's also struggling with my relationship with Giant, which creates additional strain. I willingly support him. I love him.

Giant also sometimes struggles, though currently not as much as the other two. But with all the lies and trust issues, there's plenty of strain there as well. (Though it's getting better.)

I don't feel I can lean much on T. He's struggling to support Beauty and make his own life (his health and his professional life) work as best he can. He always seems stressed out, tired or worried about something. I love him, and can't be an additional burden. I choose this, based on the needs he seems to have. I'm also willingly creating some distance, as I can't take much more strain now. And I know that if I'd let him lean more on me, he would.

So supporting me has mostly been up to Saint. Recently, Giant has taken on some of that emotional labor as well.
But with Saint out of the picture this weekend, Giant is the only emotional support I truly have. And right now.... When I crave cuddles and crave being held and crave being comforted... He's not available either.

Because he's currently hooking up with another girl.

What else could I do, than to tell him it was ok? I have no claim on him. (Certainly no right to demand his fidelity. Haha. We even discussed this very scenario a few weeks back.) And even though I think of him as a boyfriend of sorts, I have no right no claim his support in this situation. No matter how much I could use the cuddles right now. My emotional needs, this emotional labor, isn't mainly caused by him. It's caused by everyone else around me (some of it even twice removed). So I have absolutely no right to ask him to carry that burden. It's not his job.

And by choosing to give him the "go ahead", the daisy chain of emotional labor stops with me. I'm left to carry it all, alone for now. Because I feel like that's the only thing I CAN do. Because I love these people, and want what's best for THEM.

I choose this. I'm crying now, but this is MY choice. I write to sort through my thoughts, to clear my head. This is not a guilt trip. I don't want anyone to feel bad about this. I chose it.

Addendum, 06.20am
Giant just got back inside and went to bed. I woke up and can't sleep again. But I must sleep, and so I try to write this out of my head to give me peace:

Ofcours I'm afraid of loosing him. Of course I'm insecure and worried. I love him, and I want everything we have to continue on. I'm afraid of change.

But I will NOT let my emotional state, or my desires, stand in the way of his joy. Just like I wrote earlier this morning: I will not hold him back, and demand that he deals with emotional strain not mainly caused by him. It's not his responsibility. I won't let that stand in his way.

If I lose him, then that's what happens. There are never any guarantees in love, or in life, and denying him joy will certainly not ensure that he'll stay mine. Giving him opportunities for joy, might on the other hand help me keep him. Or it might not. Like I said, never any guarantees. But it'll give him joy. And since I love him, I want him to have as much joy as possible.

So I lie here. Worried. Afraid. Not sleeping. Thinking that this might change everything (or it might not). And despite my fear, I feel confident in my choice of telling him to "go for it". It's what's best for him. And in this case, that's all that matters.

Addendum 07.08am.
Still can't sleep. Though that's at least 60% caused by thoughts of the convention work. Which is good, in a weird way. 
Sleep doesn't seem to be happening. I'm getting out of bed.

Monday, June 20, 2016

The good things

I know there's been quite a few depressive, sad or confused entries lately. And I just want to point out that this isn't all that's going on in my life. There are a lot of good things too. I use this blog to vent. To clear my mind, when all I feel is chaos and confusion. Writing helps me find ways to handle it all.

I especially want to talk about Giant, because lately a lot of the negative entries have been about him. And I don't want to forget all the good things.

In that volunteer project we're both involved with, I feel that we work better together now than we ever have. This is how we were supposed to have worked together last year, I just wasn't able to include him back then. I felt like I had to do it all myself. When it comes to this work, our communication is mostly good, we cooperate well and we enjoy sharing this with each other. Yes, our communications broke down yesterday. But mostly, it's good.

As a couple, I also feel that we've come a long, long way in a couple of weeks. Learning the truth about his insecurities and lies, and hearing him say that he loves me, has brought us closer together than we've ever been before. The potential for trust is also much greater, now that I don't feel as intimidated by him anymore.

Sure, there are issues. As you've read in previous entries, we keep misunderstanding each other. Whether we misunderstand the body language, the words used, the intent behind them, or the reasons for saying them... It just keeps happening. We have a lot of work ahead of us, to figure these things out.

But despite the strain, despite the stress, despite the tears, it's still worth it. And there are many, many moments that prove to me that he, we, are worth the work. For example last Friday night, when we were standing in the dark watching an outdoor concert. He had his arms around me, I held his hand, we looked at each other smiling. Eyes shining. A lovely scene, great music, and a wonderful experience to share with him. I felt such love and happiness in that moment.

Sexually, things are easier. There are almost no communications issues there. Just our two bodies, intertwined. My hand on his throat, as he gasps and closes his eyes, leaning back. My mouth on his dick, as he moans and wriggles underneath me. Ropes against his beautiful body. Smiles, giggles, connection. Without that many words. "Yes, Ma'am" are words neither of us can misunderstand.

True, there hasn't been much D/s. I'm still not dominant, and don't know when or how I'll get that back. Also, all this stress lately has seriously affected my sex drive. So I'm not as interested in being on top of him as I used to be. However, these are details. I know my sex drive will return eventually, and bring my dominant side with it. For now, a bit of vanilla now and then is good enough. Sexually, we work. We click.

I also learn new things from playing with him. For example, I've never before liked having my ass played with. I tried it a fair bit in my late teens, around the time I tried everything else, and wasn't a huge fan. I've tried fingering a time or two later as well (about 10 years ago, but still), and still not a fan. Not hating it either, just profoundly uninterested. Like... "Why are you back there? The good hole is further forward." But Giant has skills I've never encountered before. He's made me crave his finger(s) in my ass. Sure, I prefer it combined with a couple of fingers in my pussy... But still. Who would have thought that I, after 15 years of sexual activities, could find a whole new area on my body to enjoy?

So this is to say: There are good things. Lots of them. I don't want anyone to despair for me, or think that my life is all misery and woe. It isn't. It's mostly good. I just use the blog to vent.

Fragile pride

Caveat: Most of the post was written immediately following a fight with Giant. Then I saved it, and did some heavy editing on it a few hours later. However, it's still the same day, and I'm emotionally worn out. It's now past midnight, and I'm dead tired, stressed out, worried and sad. And depressed, let's not forget the clinical condition that's fucking up my mind and my emotions. 

I post this now, despite all of this, because I want the written testimony to how I'm feeling. I want to be able to look back and examine my own mind. If I wake up tomorrow, feeling or thinking something completely different, I will write about that too. But I want the blog to show me, fairly uncensored. If that means I show you the fluctuating madhouse that is mind mind these days, then so be it. It's who I am.

I make mistakes, and I'm quick to apologize. I don't have much confidence in general, but especially not these days. Sure, I'm good at some things, confident with some things. But even in the fields where I'm the most confident, like at my workplace.. If I make a mistake or hurt someone or misstep, I'm quick to accept the blame for it. I strive to correct my errors whenever possible. Sure, I can take the lead. I quite enjoy being in that position (both sexually and professionally). But I'm quick to let people know that I don't know everything.

However, I will not take the blame when somebody else has made a mistake. I'm quick to point out unfairness, if someone tries to shift blame onto me for things I didn't do. I won't accept being given unfair criticism or blame, if I have a choice. I won't let my own happiness be compromised, so someone else can feel less guilty. (Well... I try not to let that happen, anyway.)

Giant is very different from me when it comes to admitting mistakes. On the inside, I think he's just as insecure as the rest of us. But his walls are higher, his shell is harder. I don't think this makes him stronger than me (or Saint, or T), even though he might seem that way at first. It just makes him more brittle. Like a porcelain vase, so beautiful, so strong, so polished, and yet so fragile. I think he's aware of how brittle those walls of his are, yet he fears to live without them. And so he protects those walls with all possible force. And that comes off as pride.

So on the outside, Giant strives to emit this aura of perfection. He portrays himself as someone who knows it all, who doesn't need any help or advice, and who doesn't make mistakes. A glossy facade. (This isn't the case when we play, of course. Then he's got a lot less walls. But I'm talking about daily life here, not play sessions.)

In our regular day-to-day life, he has a very hard time admitting mistakes. He's often too proud. Too proud to admit that he might not know all the things, might make mistakes, might not make all the right calls. Oh, he admits to the theory of it! But not when he's in the middle of a discussion. And yes, he has apologized to me before, but it's usually a long time coming. So far, it typically happens after I've apologized first. Usually after a long, painful argument.

Giant's one of the leaders of this volunteer project that we're both heavily involved with. (In fact T and Saint are also volunteers for the same project.) And he's a good leader, and a good volunteer. Usually. Today, Giant (whilst trying to help) made a mistake when working on that project. It was a fixable mistake, so nothing major went wrong. It's just caused Saint and me (or him, if he does it himself) quite a bit of extra work, at a time when we're all stressed and over-worked already.

The conversation about that mistake could have gone like this:
Me: "You did X! You shouldn't have done X, it's made all sorts of problems for us."
Giant: "What?!? I thought I was helping! I'm sorry, I didn't know this would happen."

It didn't go like that.
I was really worried on the onset of this, because Saint is already so strained. I tried to protect him from having to do even more. So I quickly and forcefully pointed out the mistake. (Granted, I could have been nicer about it.) It blew up into this huge argument. I'm beginning to recognize the patterns now: When Giant has made mistakes or feels insecure, he tends to go "this argument is pointless" and try to derail or evade the argument. Alternatively, he shifts blame onto someone or something else (in this case: me). Usually, he will vary between these two strategies.

True to form, Giant (being tired and stressed out himself) immediately started blaming me. Then he went over to saying we shouldn't even be discussing this. Then blaming me again. And then finally playing the "boss card" (I'm in charge, we won't discuss this anymore!). It was a complete communications' break down.

Our fight today made me seriously consider quitting the project, both as a volunteer and as a participant. I volunteer because I enjoy the work. Being treated like I was today is not enjoyable. Regardless of our personal relationship.

And it's not the first argument we've had lately. A lot of our communication, especially when one or both are tired or stressed, feels strained. We both hate the fighting, but it keeps happening anyway.

Why do they happen? First, it was his lies that hurt us. I'm sure that's part of the strain, even though it's not as much in the front of my mind anymore. (The healing has slowly begun.) Secondly, this is a trying time. We have a lot on our plates. We're stressed. We don't get enough sleep. But Third... It feels to me like his fragility/pride is getting in the way. Why can't he just admit to a mistake, without us having a huge row first? And what can I do to help with that?

Today, I had to make a not-so-veiled (and very serious) threat to abandon the project. But he did eventually apologize, without me having to apologize first. So I'll stay on. And I should be happy, but this doesn't taste of victory. It tastes of defeat. It was just another pointless argument, all based on our communications breaking down. Again.

I just don't know how to handle it, don't know what to say or do to avoid these heart wrenching arguments. (And these are my failings, my errors, which I willingly admit to.) I should know what to say, I should be able to figure him out! I've just never been with anyone too proud to admit to mistakes before. Not like that. I don't know how to handle it. Especially when he's so fragile underneath it all. I don't wish to cause him harm!

I love him. Hopefully, we'll find a way to handle this... When we're less stressed, less over-worked. (And in my case: Less sick.) We just need to hold on until then. Not let go, not give up. And keep working on this together.

I love him. He's worth it.
It's just hard, sometimes.

Sunday, June 19, 2016

Unable to properly dominate - the 2016 edition

I wrote earlier this month that I had a really low sex drive. My need to intimacy, sexual stuff and orgasms is... if not back, exactly, then at least stronger now than three weeks ago. I enjoy cuddles and fondles, and I love sucking dick. This hasn't changed. But that's all vanilla.

What I've realised is that this last month, and in truth the last several months, I've been in a D/s funk. I've felt low on the creativity, energy and confidence needed to dominate properly. I had a few weeks reprieve from that when I started playing with Giant, but I realise now that I was mostly working on rote. Yes, I was dominant towards him, but he was so new to everything I didn't need to be creative. I could just follow a previously established mental checklist of things I think new subs should try out. Once that checklist was done, I was back in the same funk. So while we've had some sexual contact these last few weeks, it's mostly been vanilla.

Or.. Well... I fucked his ass on Tuesday (it was his birthday). Not exactly vanilla, I admit. But not dominant either. I was just topping. There's a difference, to me, whether I'm just doing the things physically (topping) or if I'm also trying to control someone's mind (domination).

I assume this is a phase, and that I'll get over it. After all, it's happened before: As very faithful readers might recall, the last time I wrote about feeling like I couldn't dominate anymore was in august 2013. Now I THOUGHT at the time that this came from not having my own sub to play with. That I didn't have that special connection with anyone. Now on the other hand, I have Saint (and to a degree also Giant). However, the feelings are really similar. Here's some of what I wrote back then:

"Like I wasn't the one really in control, like I wasn't dominant enough. Or wasn't good enough at being dominant, is perhaps a better description."
This fits my feelings now to a tee. I go through the motions, and I can do a pretty convincing act, but it still feels like an act. I don't buy into my own dominance.

Last time, it passed around december 2013, when I started playing with Saint. And I thought he was the reason. And sure, he might have been part of it, but a new partner (Giant) did not "fix" me this time. So I don't think who I'm playing with really has that much to say.

So if it's not who I'm with, what else is similar between the summer of 2013 and the spring of 2016? Depression. In the summer of 2013, I'd been on partial sick leave from work since November 2012. From August 2013, I was unemployed, but I was still struggling with depression. I was better, sure, lots better than 6 months earlier, but not well. I didn't really get well until around January 2014.

This round, I've been on partial sick leave since January 2016. I'm not unemployed now, luckily, and I have a job that I enjoy. I also feel better prepared this time around, more aware of what's happening, and so my bout of depression has lasted a bit shorter than in 2012/2013. I've also gotten more help, both in the professional sense and help in the form of support from friends and co-workers. So I haven't been as sick this time around, and I've been able to get back on my feet a lot quicker.

That faster rate of healing had me fooled. I started thinking that I was healthy now. And I guess I'm not. I'm 80% there, but those last 20% are really taking their time. I'm so impatient to be back to 100%. I just want to be well again. For myself, but also for T, and Saint, and Giant. I feel like I'm not good enough for either of them.

There are still both cognitive and emotional issues, that obviously stem from the depression. They're just more sneaky now. I think I act, and think, and feel like normal. I don't lay around on the couch doing nothing for 15 hours every day. I don't end up crying for hours on end, without any apparent trigger or reason for it. But I don't function as normal either. I'm more self-critical. Self-hating. I have troubles concentrating. And my emotions are less predictable.

And so I hurt the people I love. I want to tell them: I'm sick. Please don't blame me, I don't mean to do this to you! I'm sick! But I can't even tell the difference, sometimes, so how should they? There's no visible cues, no sticker on my forehead warning people that I'm still nuts. And so I hurt them. And I hate myself even more. And around, and around, and around we go.

No wonder I don't have the confidence to dominate.

Friday, June 17, 2016

He loves me, yeah, yeah, yeah

The lyrics to The Beatles' song "She loves you" feels fitting in more ways than one.


Last weekend, Giant came clean and told me that he'd lied to me. Not about big, important things, but about little things. To make himself seem better than he was. I hate lies. This is not a small matter to me. I was grievously hurt by Giant's lies, and we're struggling to (re-)build trust between us. That's going to take a long, long time for me to truly get over. He's apologized, but an apology can't mend things overnight.


Yet all along, no matter how hurt I felt, I saw him. He's in pain too. The lies come from a very dark place within him, a place he doesn't like to go. It hurt him so much to be honest with me. To admit that he'd made mistakes. That took tremendous change, and he's showing such a will to change. He wants to be honest with me now. Completely. I see his weakness, but I also see his strength. His courage. And I love him for it. All of it.


Although a voice in the back of my head now always questions his sincerity, I try to trust him. To give him the benefit of the doubt. And he's got me utterly convinced that he cares for me. That he wants to speak the truth, because of me. Because he doesn't want to ruin what we have together. Of this I have no doubt.


When I fall for someone, I fall hard and I fall fast. It's been weeks since I first told him that I love him. He's not responded in kind. He's told me that he cares about me, that he's fond of me, that he enjoys being with me, that he's fallen for me. But not that he feels love.


We've spoken about this, and I've told him that I feel he's worth waiting for. He loved and been hurt before. It's just 9 months since his wife of almost ten years left him. The wounds after that break-up make him more hesitant to love again. This I understand, and accept. And yet, I've felt the imbalance of it all. I've felt alone in my love, unanswered.


So I've pushed him. Not to feel something that he doesn't feel, but to connect with and admit to the feelings he's got. If those feelings weren't love, that was something I was willing to live with. But I didn't want him to be afraid, or to burry his emotions from himself. I didn't want past wounds to get in his way. I wanted to help him heal. So I pushed, as much and as hard as I dared. To make him talk, to make him think.


I didn't really know what would come of it all. Like I said, I was aware that this might lead to him realizing he didn't have any feelings for me at all. And leave me. If that would heal him, I find that the risk (and even the act of being left behind) was worth it.


Last night, he told me that he loves me.


Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! :)

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Doubt

Do you like this?
Yes.
How about this?
Gah! Yes!

I hate having a voice in the back of my mind, asking "was that true?".

You tell me about something you've done, or something you're going to do. Something someone else once told you, or something you've experienced. And I find myself looking for proof that what you're saying is true. I hate not being able to just accept what you say on face value.

You say you wish to tell me the truth from now on. My problem, is that I will never be able to tell if you're actually truthful, or if you just lie really well. And you do lie well, as we've already seen. And nothing anyone can do or say can remove that doubt. So will that voice in the back of my mind ever go away now?

And what about other people? If one person lies, and I didn't spot it, does that mean everybody lies? Will that voice in the back of my mind speak up when I'm with other people to?
I feel wounded. Broken.

It's been less than 48 hours. I'm still probing the wound, trying to assess the damage that has been done to me. Like everything else, I know intellectually that it's possible to heal from this. Though right now, that feels bloody difficult. It feels like I have a long way to go.

It's a choice. Like everything else. Do I choose to let this break me? Break us?

No. Once more, unto the breach.
I choose love.

Saturday, June 11, 2016

Truth and lies

What is trust?

As I see it, trust is the foundation of all human interaction, as well as all interactions between humans and their environment. In the latter case, you trust your own senses, your own mind, your own ability to reason and deduce based on observations and experience. In the former case, you do all of those things, and in addition you trust that the other person is being truthful when communicating with you. That they are truthful about their own experiences, observations etc.

Simply put, if you see the tracks of a bison, you can deduce that bison was here. At least if you know from previous experience what bison tracks look like. You trust your own experiences and the information provided by your senses. You trust your own mind and it's ability to reason and come to the right conclusions.

If someone else tells you they know where the bison was, you have to trust that THEIR ability to observe and reason is at least as good as yours. And then you have to trust that they won't lie to you. Not even for their own gain, or as a prank, or to make themself look good or to make you look bad. Now, I'm not so conceited as to believe that my mind is superior to others, so that first point isn't as much of a problem. It's that second one that sometimes gives me pause.

When people tell me that they love me, or that they find me attractive, or that they like spending time with me, I try to trust them. I want to trust them. But trust is hard.

I've written previously about how I can't trust my own mind. I can't trust how it reasons or draws conclusions. That's what a depression does. That's what a poor self esteem does. It fucks up your ability to see yourself and your interactions with the world (people included) in a truthful, objective and/or positive manner. "Everything I do is wrong." "Nobody really like me." These are things my mind tells me quite often. People tell me that these things that my mind is telling me, are incorrect. That my mind can't be trusted to draw the right conclusions.

We are (luckily) not in the world imagined by the philosopher Kant. The Thing for me is NOT so radically different from the Thing for you. If our perceptions of the Thing had been too different, we wouldn't have been able to communicate at all. And so, since I can't trust my mind, I've learned that I need to trust people. Because the conclusions I draw on my own are obviously skewed. My data is corrupt. I need input, corrections to the data, from outside sources. People that I care for, and trust, and whose opinions I value. Often, I value their opinions over my own.

So what happens when I can't trust other people either? If I find out that someone I trusted as lied to me? It doesn't have to be a big lie, or even be maintained for very long. It just has to be enough to make me question my trust in this person. That doesn't take much (as my mind is already convinced that everyone is secretly laughing at me anyway).

When I can't trust other people... And I can't trust myself... What can be trusted? Who can be trusted? What is the world really like? What does people really feel? Really think? About me? About anything?

There's a reason why T has been forbidden to play practical jokes on me. I have trust issues enough as it is. I don't want to spend my entire life second guessing what someone tells me. I want to be able to trust those that I love. If this small, inconsequential thing was a lie... If this prank, or this story, was a lie... What else might be? And if I fell for the lie, how will I ever know what's true and what isn't?

Again, it has to do with trusting my own mind. My own powers of observation. I didn't spot the lie. I was taken in by it. I believed it. I could have known, should have known, that it wasn't true. But I didn't. So when I'm lied to, not only do I loose some of my trust in other people... I also loose even more of my trust in myself.

So I feel like I should have known, I should have seen. And I didn't. My senses, my mind, obviously can't be trusted to separate truth from falsehood. Is this grass green? Is this person friendly towards me? Is this track made by a bison? I can't know for certain. It's similar to how I know that my senses and my mind can't be trusted when I look myself in the mirror, or when someone pays me a compliment, or when I evaluate something I've done or made. When I'm lied to, I question myself even more than before. I become more unsure of myself, I lose confidence, I feel unsteady.

So what is trust? To me, truth is health. And lies is sickness. Even when the lies are small, or inconsequential, they make me sicker. More uncertain, angst ridden, depressed. More afraid of interacting with others, withdrawing rather than seeking out. I grow less confident in social situations. Unwell in my own skin, in my own mind.

That is what lies and distrust does to me. This hurts far worse than the lie itself, and I'm powerless in it. So I just have to learn to live with it.

I have to get back on my feet again. Wobbly.

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Low sex drive

I've got no enthusiasm for any kind of play at the moment. Not with Saint and not with Giant. I want cuddles and closeness and intimacy. And I have a slight, slight sex drive still. At least I want orgasms sometimes. But no BDSM at all. I have no inspiration for it.

Three times now, when visiting Giant, my toy bag has remained unopened. We've cuddled and done some sexy stuff, sure. But really nothing much that could be called BDSM. Saint and I haven't played in quite some time either. I know it bothers him, but he tries not to put any pressure on me. I love him dearly for it.

And I hate it. I feel like I'm not doing my job as a girlfriend, as a dominant or as a sexual partner in any sense. And hating myself doesn't really do anything good for my sex drive, either. Bad circle.

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Some sort of relationship

So Giant and I are in agreement that we have "some sort of relationship". No lables as of yet, but calling it a relationship is progress enough. I'm happy with that.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to settle into a new sort of routine, juggling the three of them. I spend 2-3 days per week with T, 2-3 days with Saint, and 1-2 with Giant. Sure, it's a bit stressful never being more than a night or two in the same place. But that was the case when I just had T and Saint as well. Another place to sleep doesn't really change that much.

Yesterday, for example, I was at Giant's place. It was calm. Nice. We spent much of the night talking, about everything and nothing. And we watched an episode of a TV-show. Everyday things.

And he rode my stap-on like he was at a rodeo, arching his back and moaning, while humping me. He had the wildest grin on his face, his eyes half-closed. Very sexy. I've got a sore spot on the mons pubis, where the base of the strap-on dildo was repeatedly and forcefully rammed into me. And he's got really sore muscles in his thighs. All well worth it, though.

I also sucked his dick a lot. I teased him relentlessly, edging him, not permitting him to come. Since I love sucking his dick, that just prolonged my joy, while tormenting him.

Great fun, all around.

Saturday, May 21, 2016

Afraid, but determined

I'm feeling really fragile these days. As if I'm made of glass, I'm so easy to shatter. I think it's a combination of stress and illness (a bad cold), which has made my depression rear it's ugly head again. I knew it wasn't completely gone, it's just been more dormant lately.

Saint and I went to a party at our local BDSM club last night, and we did two suspensions. Great fun, and I learned a lot, but afterwards I felt really worn out. As if I would crack if you looked at me the wrong way. Also, the other day with Giant, I started crying. I usually laugh when I orgasm (it's a neurological thing), but that time I cried. I think it's been a couple of years since the last time that happened.

Why so fragile? Well.. I keep feeling that I'm not good enough, that I don't perform well enough. I'm not good enough as a wife, or as a girlfriend, or as a dominant. So even after two great sessions of bondage and learning with Saint yesterday, I broke down in tears. Because I was convinced that it hadn't been enough. Not good enough, or hard enough, or long enough, or deep enough.

Saint tried to convince me otherwise, and at least he made me realise that these feelings are all in my head. The feelings are very real for me, no doubt about that. But Saint is happy with me. He believes I'm good enough. So while the feelings are real, they aren't based on actual facts. They are real, without being true.

I think my relationship with Giant is at the core of my issues, but I was having problems figuring out how. So I write this blog post, in order to self-analyze.

First of all, going from one two relationships to three is a big change. Not just for T and Saint (whom I've spent the last month worrying about), but also for me (whom I've not worried about enough, maybe). I had worked out a pattern, a set of habits, for when I was with T and when I was with Saint. And that was my whole life. My day-to-day, ordinary life. A third partner changes those habits, and I need time to find a new equilibrium. A new weekly routine. This is not bad, not at all, but it's new. And new is scary, especially when one is already struggling with mental illness. I think that's part of it, and hopefully it will work itself out eventually.

Secondly, and perhaps most importantly: I feel so lucky to have Giant in my life. I feel disbelief, almost awe, that this should happen to me. That he would even be interested in me. I've known him for so long, I had never imagined that this would happen. Disbelief is definitely the right term here.

In addition to those feelings (this is still connected to that second point), come my feelings for Saint and T. I love and cherish them so much. I'm happy in both relationships, I love how the three of us interact with each other and support each other. I can't believe how lucky I am to have a wonderful, supportive, loving husband, who's willing to lead this polyamorous life with me. And that I would have been able to find a boyfriend, who suits me so well on so many levels.

All this luck, this bliss, it makes me afraid. I'm so afraid that it will all end. That one of them will get fed up and leave me. That I'll be too much, or not enough. That they will wake up one day, realise how I really am, and stop loving me. I guess I feel like I'm not really worth loving. That I don't deserve them, any of them.

Have I always felt this way? Yes, I think so, but to a smaller degree. The depression is pushing those feelings to the forefront, and the recent changes going on in my life (introducing Giant) makes them more difficult to handle. On the other hand, I wouldn't want anything else either.

What do I mean by that? Sure, I'd like to not be mentally ill! That's not what I meant. I meant that given the facts, the realities of my life, I can't imagine a better way to live. Because when all is said and done, I love them. All three of them. And I dare to think that they might love me too, for some reason. They want to make this work, and so do I.

I want to make it work. I want to live this weird, polyamorous life, and I want to love and laugh and enjoy. No matter how afraid I might be. I'm just glad I don't have to hold on to all this fear by myself. I'm so grateful that I have some wonderful partners whom I can turn to for support. They make it all worth it.

I won't let my fear of it all ending tomorrow, stand in the way of my happiness today.

Friday, May 20, 2016

Cum shots

It's a porn stereotype that if men can't come inside of a woman's pussy, they should come on her face and chest. It's typically called a cum shot, and since it's so much more visual than coming inside of someone, you see them in porn all the time.

I've never been a fan of cum shots. Neither watching them, nor experiencing them.

First of all, I'm not that fond of the taste of semen. I haven't swallowed someone's load in years and years, because why should I? I don't particularly enjoy it. I don't actively hate it or anything, I just don't find it pleasant or sexy.

Secondly, I have serious issues with eating yucky things (or seeing people eating yucky things). That's the main reason why I have problems watching TV shows like Fear Factor, for example. It makes me feel sick. Even forcing Saint to eat his own cum is kind of grossing me out. I find it really hot to humiliate him into doing something he really hates. But I still find it kind of disgusting. And hot. And disgusting. (A very confusing experience, let me tell you!)

Third, I really don't like getting semen in my hair. It happened once or twice, when I was a teenager. I've always had long or semi-long hair, and with semen it gets these terrible, sticky tangles. It's annoying.

Fourth, I just don't see the point. It's messy and sticky and gets everywhere.

I talk about cum shots with most new partners eventually, and every single one has basically reacted by going "meh". As in "I don't really care" or "I never understood the point of that" or "It doesn't particularly turn me on". Every single one... Until Giant.

I don't know how the subject was broached originally, but I ended up letting him come on my chest and throat while we were in the shower. Simply because he'd told me that the idea turned him on. Being in the shower already made it easy to rinse off, and since I was the one jerking him off at the time I could more easily control the direction of the spurts.

I know that in porn, cum shots can be degrading and humiliating. But it felt nothing like that. I was in complete control of him. He was doing this because I'd told him to. I was clearly the dominant one, no matter who was physically on top.

Afterwards, he had a really favorable reaction to that scene. I could see in his eyes that this was something he'd really, truly enjoyed. We also talked about it, and he told me he'd greatly enjoyed it. And so yesterday, while he was sitting on my chest and I was sucking his dick, I let him come on me again. And then we did it one more time, late last night. Both those times yesterday we were in his bed, not in the shower. And one of the times, I did get some semen in my hair. And it was sticky and messy and made tangles. And BECAUSE he was so obviously turned on by it, it wasn't so bad...

I think it's the same as with latex. I used to actively dislike latex. I didn't like how it smelled or how it felt and certainly didn't want to wear it. But then Saint and started playing with it, and BECAUSE he really, really loves latex... My mind got changed. It wasn't something I did on purpose, it just happened. Now, when I smell latex, I get happy. Even before I've recognized the smell. And I think of Saint. And I associate it with sexual stuff. All because Saint really likes it.

Human sexuality is so malleable. We adapt to our partners' desires. That's really fantastic!
So while I'm still no great fan of cum shots... While I still wouldn't choose that particular activity for my sake... While I still really dislike semen in my hair... And while I'm definitely not turned on by cum shots.. I think I could be, with time. Because of him.

For him.

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

...and the low point.

Let me start off by saying that tonight was great (objectively). I've had a lot of fun experiences and enjoyed myself tremendously. However, not everything is smooth and easy going, and I have a need to express that side of things as well.

Caveat: I'm currently really tired, and probably in a mild domdrop. It's also around 3am, and I need to get up early tomorrow to catch a flight. This blog post will not be well thought out nor properly revised. I'm sorry about that. I might just delete it at some later date, if I wake up tomorrow and find the post too weird.

Late tonight, while talking with Giant, I touched upon a topic that produced a startlingly strong response. The topic itself is irrelevant for this blog post, but his reaction fascinated me. He was adamant that he would NOT do this thing. He gave me some arguments as to why, but when pushed on them basically reverted to "it's a principle" (also known as "because I say so").

Not only did he feel really strongly, but he also quickly grew annoyed at me for asking about it. This was obviously some kind of sore spot, something important to him. But why? What kind of bad memory did I trigger? Was kind of horrors did he imagine that I can do to him? He obviously feared the loss (or potential loss) of control in this situation, yet kept insisting that it wasn't personal (in other words, yet another "because I said so"). He kept saying that he trusted me, that it had nothing to do with me, he still just wouldn't do this thing.

So of course I kept on questioning his conviction! It's what I do: I ask questions, try to make the other person think, to use reason and then to analyze those reasons. This is the same procedure with almost any topic. Whether he changes his mind of not, doesn't matter that much to me. But I feel a need to know what kind of sore spot I just touched. Why such a strong reaction. What's behind all of this?

In the end, I had to let it go. He'd grown too annoyed with me, and I didn't want to ruin things anymore than I already had. So I pulled him down, kissed him deeply, and tried to lighten the mood. It only partially worked, as he was tired and didn't really feel like talking any more at all (or doing anything else for that matter). So I put him to bed, then drove home.

And now I'm left with this really bad feeling in my stomach.

It's probably just a drop, but it's still very uncomfortable. I'm in a mental state right now where I question everything about myself. Everything I do to other people, and the ways I go about doing them:

If I was right to behave as I did with Giant tonight, this means my technique, my philosophy, when talking with my partners, is ok. However, I feel terrible, and he felt terrible, so obviously I did something that wasn't ok.

But if it wasn't ok, then that means that EVERY deep, prodding, questioning conversation I've had with anyone, ever, was wrong. That I shouldn't question as much, shouldn't push, shouldn't make them reason and present their arguments and force them to think things through.

This means I should accept the initial "no" for a permanent answer, and without question, even when that means limiting the experiences of my play partners. Limiting the trust, the potential of trust, that could be built.

I won't force anyone to do something they don't want to do, but I want to help them take informed choices. To help them see the actual options that exist, in stead of reacting out of fear or old habits. That's why I push, after all. I want to get to know them, and for them to get to know themselves, and for us to build trust, communication and connection. And now, I'm not so sure that's the right way to go about it. On the other hand, I know of no other way.

And so I'm left uncertain of myself. Feel like I've done something wrong, and yet convinced that what I did was right. It's confusing, and tiring. It really did fuck up the end of our evening. And for that I'm sorry. No matter the good intentions, I'm still sorry.

The high points...

Giant came with me to our local BDSM club again tonight. It's his third visit there, and he's getting increasingly comfortable. Tonight there were fewer people, and he was able to relax and even get involved in conversations with a few of them. I also got to introduce him to some of my close friends in the BDSM community.

While he loves bondage, he's been skeptical of the idea of suspension from the very beginning... So of course this is an area where I've pushed and prodded. That's how I roll, after all: I find something he's uncertain of or something that scares him, we talk about it, and then I help him get past it.

We've been experimenting a bit with the box tie, and he's quite enjoyed that, but haven't had a suspension point from which to hang him. Luckily, our local BDSM club has several available suspension points. I would have been well pleased with a partial suspension tonight. We were unsure how he'd react to playing in a communal play area, and I was very unsure of how comfortable he would be with any form of suspension. However, it turns out that I was able to make him feel safe and secure. He was able to shut out all the background noise and the people watching, and just enjoy himself while under my care. And so he ended up flying in a full suspension for a couple of minutes. And he loved it.

My technique is rusty, so to make certain things were secure enough I probably made the rigging unnecessarily difficult for myself. I need to practice more, and luckily both Giant and Saint are glad to be my bunnies.

Also, I discovered that I don't have enough rope.
My ropes are all 6mm linen hemp. I originally had 6 lengths (bought from ESINEM), and then I got 3 that are about 1m shorter than the others (a mistake in cutting, but it doesn't really bother me), and then I bought a few more (2 lengths, I think) from an acquaintance in the BDSM scene. And I've had to cut up only 1 length, after a mishap with Saint in the shower over two years ago.
That SHOULD leave me with 10ish (or more, can't remember exactly how many I bought from that acquaintance). I'm currently only counting 8, and considering Giant's tall and muscular body I really wouldn't have had enough with 10 either. I need to buy more rope!

After calming down and chatting more with some friends, we went to one of the private play areas. I tied him to a St. Andrew's cross, and spanked him a bit. While he was physically able to take more than I gave him, I noticed that he was getting mentally worn out. So I stopped. But what little we did was fun, and well worth it.

We went back to his place afterwards, and ate watermelon. Or rather, he amused himself (and me) by eating/licking watermelon from my naked body. It was his idea, but I was more than happy to comply. He would touch the watermelon to for example a breast, I would gasp from the cold, and then he would lick and suck my breast warm again. In between, he would feed me some watermelon as well. It was really flirty and fun and innocent. A lovely scene.

To wash off the sticky watermelon juice, we headed to the showers. That also lead to some sexy fun, as I'm sure you can imagine.

These are the good things that happened tonight. I'm glad of this night, and I'm glad to be playing with Giant. It's worth it, despite the occasional low point.