I recently watched the movie, “Avatar” on the television. It isn’t one of my favorite movies, but I do like the scifi genre in general. At the very least, it has a good deal of visual interest. I have seen it several times. It comes on the television regularly. This time, a particular moment struck me as incredibly beautiful. And I related to the main female character. She is cradling the much smaller male character in her arms after literally saving his life. “I see you,” she says. She is larger and stronger than he is. And she cradles him very lovingly. This. This is how I feel when I hold the Wild Thing’s small, shaking body after we play. I feel like a conquering heroine who has just saved her lover. I feel that I see who he is, and he sees who I am. And we both love what we see in each other.
Neytiri & Jake from “Avatar”
Posted in bdsm, D/s, love, musings, my life, relationships, the wild thing
Tagged bdsm, D/s, femdom, love, musings, my life, relationships, the wild thing
It’s late in my part of the world. The night is dark and cool. Nobody here but me. It was an intense weekend, and I’m both elated and a bit exhausted. I have missed 3 days of work, played, argued, made up, fucked, and cried. Not necessarily in that order. I feel I’ve been living in a different land for the past 5 days. Tomorrow I go back to the real world. There may be repercussions for missing work. I believe it was worth it. Even if I end up being fired, it will have been worth it. The Husband and I have reconnected. I feel wonderful!
Now I am looking forward to the future. I feel that things can work. For all of us. Times are changing. I am changing. Again. More hope for more kink and more love and more togetherness. It may not be perfect, but what is? Nothing. And this is good. This weekend has been a much needed catharsis. And now for some sleep!
Posted in bdsm, bondage, D/s, dominance, just me, kink, love, musings, my life, play, relationships, respect, sex, the husband
Tagged bdsm, bondage, change, compromise, D/s, femdom, kink, love, musings, my life, needs, play, priorities, relationships, respect, the husband
This is a random rant.
Please stop cleaning your leather toys with products not meant for leather. First, they are not meant for leather. This means they are going to be damaging your leather. Second, they are not meant to clean the things you’re trying to get rid of. Spraying your flogger with a countertop cleaner is not going to get rid of HIV if you have gotten HIV infected blood on your flogger. Your floor cleaner will not kill the hep c you have gotten on your leather paddle. And if you are playing someone that has the flu, I think you might have bigger problems than getting the virus off of your leather toys. Really. Just stop it.
Here’s a compromise for those of you who really feel you must clean your leather toys. If you’ll quit looking at me like I’m singlehandedly responsible for spreading blood borne pathogens throughout the kink community, I’ll quit looking at you like you’re an idiot.
I understand that everyone has different comfort levels about their kinks. But please stop with the hand wringing and teeth gnashing about violating the consent of vanilla people by “showing your kinks in public.” So does someone at a kink party need to get the consent of everyone there before starting a scene? What if I don’t want to see your clown beating a furry scene because I’m terrified of clowns? Or furries? I didn’t consent to accidentally seeing that! You are now a consent violater! Because you didn’t get the consent of… someone not actually in your scene.
Sure, it’s not exactly the best thing ever if one were to tie up one’s bottom in the local grocery mart and start fucking hir mouth. But you know what’s the “not right” part in that? Hint: it isn’t the kink part. It’s the sex part. I know I know… won’t someone please think of the children!!! You know what also used to be completely unacceptable public behavior? Women wearing pants. Same sex partners. Partners of different ethnicities. Showing your ankles. Holding hands.
Somehow we have, as a culture, gotten the fuck over these horrid and scandalous visions. I hope that in time, seeing someone in a corset or wearing a collar or someone in a corset walking someone in a collar on a leash will hold the same scandal as seeing a woman’s ankles. And really, the people who seem the most scandalized by this sort of thing are the kinky ones. The vanilla ones mostly seem to think it’s funny if they even think anything about it at all.
We’re running around the house lighting candles so we can see. We’re a team. I know where the candles are and which ones will create the most light. He has the lighter. In the dark, we create enough light to see by. At least enough so we’re not bumping into the furniture. It’s enough. We don’t need the television or the internet to entertain ourselves. We have cuffs and rope and our own bodies. The way our bodies fit together is magic. It shouldn’t work, but somehow it does. It’s beautiful and transcendent like it almost always is. The thundering storm outside stopped at some point. When I come back to this world and my bed, I can’t hear it any more. The lights are still off. I leave him cuffed and tied to the bed and snuggle up between his cuffed arms. Then we think it best to eat the ice cream in the freezer before it’s just cream.
We have a whole weekend together. Somewhat of a rarity. I didn’t know it was going to work out this way, and have already made plans for Saturday evening. A few hours with the Wild Thing and some of his friends. He says it’s fine but behaves opposite. He’s sullen. Withdrawn. Pouting around me but coolly polite to the Wild Thing and his friends. He doesn’t want to be here. He could have stayed home but didn’t. He doesn’t want me to be here. I appreciate spending time with him. Sorta. I would appreciate it more if he weren’t so sullen. The sullenness continues all weekend. The bed is occupied with bodies. Bodies that should fit together like magic. But they aren’t. He doesn’t want to hold me. I don’t want to hold him. We are occupying space but not being together.
It’s difficult when being with one is so simple and freeing and being with the other is so fraught and difficult… but I truly want to be with both of them. I feel myself disconnecting again. And only one of them is allowing me to connect to him and to the rest of the universe through him.
Posted in just me, love, musings, my life, relationships, sex, the husband, the wild thing, whining
Tagged bondage, compromise, love, musings, my life, needs, priorities, relationships, sex
I hadn’t seen him in way too long. We were both hungering for each other. I met him for dinner though I had already eaten and wasn’t hungry for anything other than the sight of him. The touch of his lips. I had prepared for our particular relationship complications by putting a pillow and sleeping bag in the car.
We climbed in the back with the windows rolled partially down. It was warm and he was soft. It was quiet and I was enjoying holding him as he held me. I was so comfortable that I almost fell asleep. He shifted and I pulled him back to me for a kiss. Then he said it:
“I want you so badly.”
I wanted him too. When I pulled him back to me, I felt him hard against my belly. I grabbed it through his pants. Then I wanted to feel his skin. I had his pants unzipped and his cock in my hand. My mouth sucking on his tongue. He put his hand down my pants. His fingers inside me. I bit him hard as I came in the parking lot in the back seat of my car, hoping I wasn’t being loud enough to attract unwanted attention.
I pulled away from him and his lazy smile looked so pleased. But I wanted him to cum too. I pushed him back and put his lovely cock in my mouth. Until he came all over his shirt. In the back seat of my car in the parking lot. I pulled back to see the dreamy look on his face. A few minutes later, someone walked by and looked in at us. Both fully clothed but looking quite languidly satisfied. Maybe the passer by noticed the large wet stain on his shirt. It was hard to miss.
We hear it all the time in D/s circles:
“Dominant isn’t the same as domineering.”
But what does that really mean? It’s been a bit like porn to me. The United States Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart once said about pornography, “I know it when I see it.” That is how I’ve felt about dominant vs. domineering. I have a hard time defining it in concrete terms, but I know it when I see it. And I saw it.
Once I saw it, it actually became a lot easier to define. What I saw in the domineering person was a sense of expectation and entitlement. The expectation that s/he will get whatever hir desire is. Whatever s/he wants whenever s/he wants it. The expectation that all people will do hir bidding. Even people who haven’t negotiated things with hir.
As a dominant, I have the expectation that certain people will do what I want and work to make my desires happen. However, I only expect that of the people I have negotiated that arrangement with. I expect to hold zero sway over anyone else. Nor do I expect anyone else to cater to my whims and desires. Domineering people (or at least the domineering person I ran across) do.
I also would not assume that anyone would have the least desire to cater to my whims. Do what I ask (or tell) them to. If I were to tell a stranger to change his shirt because I didn’t like the look of it, I would be unsurprised if he laughed in my face. I would not even expect a friend to change their wardrobe because I didn’t like it. The domineering person seemed to be genuinely shocked when people didn’t want to cater to hir needs. Didn’t want to change plans or opinions to suit hir. It never seemed to occur to hir that other people really are not living their lives thinking of what might make hir life easier. S/he seemed to be blissfully unaware that s/he isn’t entitled to have hir way all the time.
Domineering person: Hey, let’s have lunch. Come pick me up at my office in 30 minutes.
Friend of domineering person: Actually I am having lunch in 10 minutes with my daughter.
Domineering person: Oh! I didn’t realize you had plans. Please don’t cancel lunch with your daughter!
Why would someone automatically expect that their friend would cancel plans for a last minute invitation to lunch? How can that be someone’s first thought in this scenario? Even a friend is not going to cancel lunch with a loved one 10 minutes ahead of the date. That would be extremely rude except in the case of an emergency. So why would anyone jump to this conclusion? Entitlement. Thinking s/he is more important in someone’s life than their own child.
This, to me, is how domineering people live. They order people about and make assumptions based on a sense of false expectations and clueless entitlement.