Category Archives: the wild thing

When 2 halves don’t make a whole

I am sure the few readers I have might have noticed that I haven’t been writing much lately. Partially it has been that I have not had much time alone. And it’s very hard to keep an anonymous blog when your loves are looking over your shoulder at what you are typing. Also, vanilla life has gotten busy. But in addition…

I have not been doing much in the way of kinky play or D/s. In fact, both of my relationships have been gearing down from those things and steering in a much more vanilla direction. I do still have some kinky play times and some D/s in my life. But it isn’t nearly what it was a few years ago. So I simply have less to write about.

I wish I could say that I’m happy with this situation. But it seems that I keep finding myself in this kind of situation. (This has not been my first foray into multiple partners.) One, two, three partners, and very little kink in my life. You would think that with more partners, you would of necessity be getting more play. More D/s. Apparently it doesn’t always follow. The only way that I have found more kinky play (though not more D/s) with multiple partners are the times I have done more casual play with friends.

Now I find myself feeling that I am approaching a crossroads. I find the older that I get, the harder it is for me to find chemistry with anyone. The less often I am attracted to anyone on even the most rudimentary level. The less I have in common with any one person. And yet the more I find that what I need in my life is one (or two) permanent and committed relationship(s) with plenty of authority transfer and kinky play times. And I find myself needing someone (or someones) who has plenty of time to spend on me.

What I currently have are two halves of that equation. I have two partners with whom I have things in common and they have been fairly committed and permanent. But the kink and D/s have been fading into dust. They have become… are becoming… half relationships. Half relationships with men that I still love. And that aren’t filling my needs.

The Husband accepted a job that has taken him to another state. Our relationship has become long-distance. It was supposed to be temporary, but after a few years, it becomes clear that it isn’t. He is happy and doing work that suits his talents. This is wonderful! For him. But it is slowly killing our relationship. And it has already killed our kinky play and D/s. He no longer feels like mine. He feels like a handsome stranger that I want to get to know but can’t. Not enough time.

The Wild Thing was never going to be a forever relationship. There are too many things that he wants from life that I can’t deliver. And as those things return to his consciousness after the NRE and rose-colored-glasses phase of our relationship fades (we have had quite a long time, over 2 years of NRE and rose-colored-glasses), he doesn’t feel like mine either. He feels like a horse comfortable in the yoke but ready to start running free. And I want him to be able to run free. I never want to hold anyone back from being who they are.

But that leaves me with two vanilla halves of a relationship that don’t… can’t add up to a whole for someone who NEEDS the passionate whippings. The willing servitude. The concession of will. The hours of time together. And the joy in all these things must be mutual. When the joy and the enthusiasm is one-sided, I lose my energy and will to sustain things on my own.

I need a partner in crime. Someone or someones who glory in bending to my will and being the canvas for my passion. They must be in it with me. I am sad that I don’t have these things.

But I am also hesitantly hopeful that those things are out there. And that I can and will find him. Or them. And hesitantly hopeful for the men I love to find whatever it is that they need as well. Because I don’t think it is me. And I am cowardly. Because I have no idea how to go about speaking about this with them. I do still love them. I don’t want to damage them. And I can’t tell if staying together will damage them more than parting our paths.


This is my life: Surprise!

Dear Husband,

What the actual fuck? Why do I find out by logging on to Fetlife that you have changed your role from submissive to unsure & are possibly going to a party in another state… when you are not allowed to go to parties without me? This is why we can’t have nice things.* Please stop your passive aggressive bullshit forthwith.


Your rather pissed off and confused wife/Dominant

*You wonder why I feel more easy in my D/s relationship with the Wild Thing? Why I have him doing things you want to do with me? Because of things like this. First A, then B, then C, and on and on. If I can’t get B then I can’t ask for C. You know this about me. I don’t know why you are so shocked that my D/s relationship with the Wild Thing is progressing more quickly than ours has in over a decade.

Musings on my mono/poly relationships

I have been thinking lately about my inability to share my partners. I am trying to determine exactly where my possessiveness stems from. I certainly understand the concept of caring deeply for more than one person. I understand it in a romantic love way. I love more than one person and it doesn’t diminish my love for either of them that I love them both. I have tried sharing my partners before and it has never ended well. I end up disengaging whether that was my intent or not. But why?

Why can I care so deeply for more than one person but I can’t seem to tolerate it in my partners? I know part of it is time. I require a lot of time and effort. (I also give a lot of time and effort back to my partners, but that is beside the point.) Modern living means most people have a job or are in school, or both. Perhaps they have a child or two on top of their other time commitments. This kind of lifestyle leaves little time for anything else. That is one reason I never chose to have children of my own. I require a lot of time from my partner. (And I want to give a lot of time to my partner as well.)

The Husband works. He works quite a bit. This limits the time he can spend on me and serving my needs. I want him to work since he finds his career (for the most part) to be fulfilling. But it takes time. And time is a finite commodity. The Wild Thing has school. That also limits his time. We met before he started school, and it was an ideal situation for me from a time perspective. That is how much time I prefer to have from a partner.

Even with 2 partners, I often feel I’m not getting enough time with either of them. I can’t imagine either of them adding even a single other important relationship without it negatively impacting the time I want to have with them. The only way I could see that working out is if they let go of another major time commitment like… school or work or friendships. And that just isn’t practical. Plus I don’t think it would be healthy for them. So a bit part is that I fear (almost certainly a realistic fear) that the lack of quality time with them would cause me to be unhappy and pull myself back from the relationship.

I also fear sexually transmitted diseases. I fear them with an unholy passion. I have never had one. This might be one of the reasons for my fear of them. From what I understand, many of them are simply not a big deal. But. I functionally don’t have insurance. I do. But it’s at the catastrophic level. Which means I’m paying for the insurance, but I still basically pay for all my medical treatments and appointments out of pocket. My sti testing so that I could begin a sexual relationship with the Wild Thing cost me $600. I don’t want to think about what it might cost me to get rid of any sti. Or worse, if I manage to contract one that I can’t actually get rid of. I can afford the occasional trip to the doctor and dentist. But I can’t afford any kind of extra medical issues.

I know how easy it is for something to go wrong with safer sex. Sometimes the condom/barrier breaks or comes off. It happens. (Not to mention that condoms/barriers don’t even protect against some stis.) And the possible chain of people I would be sleeping with via my partner’s partners just makes things exponentially more frightening to me. And that doesn’t even take into consideration that my partner’s partner’s partner’s partner’s partner might not be as educated or careful as I am and require my partners to be. The lack of education on how an sti might be spread is probably even more frightening to me than thinking about the partner chain. I don’t want to deal with an sti and I don’t want my partners to have to deal with an sti that I have contracted because my other partner contracted something and we didn’t realize it until too late. Regular testing only goes so far. And did I mention how much it costs me to get tested?

And, of course, there’s the big bad fear that most people have about loved ones. The fear of losing them. It seems odd in a poly relationship. I mean, the whole point is that one relationship doesn’t preclude having other relationships! Yet the fear persists for most people. I think part of this thinking stems from how indoctrinated we are that one romantic relationship does preclude any other romantic relationships. So, do I have it. In a way I do.

Reality is that there is never any guarantee that someone will remain in your life or in love with you. Ever. No. Guarantee. None. But we tend to think that there is some guarantee. It’s hard to let go of that. But there just isn’t. And even feeling as strongly as I do that there isn’t a guarantee, I still hate the idea that someone I love might be ready to move on when I am not. Ending things hurts even when I am ready. So I do have that fear. The fear of loss. Though I have it no matter how many partners I have. Even when it’s one partner.

So is this something that I fear that is adding to my possessiveness? The jury is still out.

Musings on smaller lovers

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"

Neytiri & Jake from “Avatar”

This is my life: chiarascuro

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.

This is my life: the parking lot

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.

Musings on forced femme & feminization

It’s a touchy subject. And it’s surrounded by heated debates almost every time it is brought up. Forced anything play.

I do it. I like it. Sometimes. And other times, I wouldn’t touch it under threat of death. (Slight exaggeration, but you get the picture.) Why? Well I’m glad you asked. I’ll tell you! And I’m using forced femme as my platform as I’ve just read something that insisted that all forms of forced femme stem from a place of misogyny. I have, therefore, just been called a misogynyst. Of course, I disagree.

I have two very different submissives right now. The Wild Thing wears panties every day. I took away all his “man” undergarments. He has one pair of black boxer briefs that he is allowed to keep in case he has some kind of emergency where he needs to present as male/masculine. Otherwise he wears panties. All day every day. It isn’t forced. I require it, but I didn’t force it out of him. It’s who he is. He owned some before we met along with some skirts and feminine lingerie. It’s natural to him. As natural and right as his having skin or legs or eyes. It was my choice to have him wear them all the time, but I did so because it is a part of him. I want him to know I think it’s sexy and beautiful and that I love to see him in his panties.

I also like to see The Husband in sexy feminine clothing. He has a love/hate relationship with wearing them. He doesn’t like wearing them. He likes being forced. I like to see him in them. I like forcing him. Many people would say that he’s a misogynistic jerk because he likes me to force him to wear women’s clothing. And that I am, by my participation in this activity, a party to misogyny. Because I’m forcing him to be “lesser” by making him dress in a feminine manner.

Now, I will agree that many people who participate in forced femme are coming from a place of misogyny. I’ve heard many a submissive man want me to force him into a pair of heels and a dress in order to access his submissive side. That he couldn’t submit any other way. As if somehow only women can be submissive because they are somehow meant to be. That is the kind of forced femme that I don’t like. I won’t do it. It does nothing for me. In fact, it’s a big turn-off.

But that isn’t how forced femme works for The Husband. It makes him uncomfortable. It doesn’t feel natural to him. It’s as if he suddenly sprouted feathers instead of having hair. I like making him uncomfortable. I like taking him out of his comfort zone. And, admittedly, he looks incredibly hot in lace and satin and a pair of heels. Which I love!

And he does see it as a form of humiliation. Not because he’s being feminized or made to be more like a woman. But because it’s not who he is. I would get the same reaction if I dressed him as an infant. And it certainly isn’t like he feels being a baby was a humiliating time in his life. Or that babies are somehow not ok. It simply isn’t who he is. And I don’t dress him like that because I find stockings and heels sexy and I don’t find diapers and baby bonnets sexy.

If I did, he might find himself in a baby bonnet and thigh high boots. Of course, he would do it. And be uncomfortable. And turned on by being taken out of his comfort zone. But I’d really rather see him in lace.