Tag Archives: play

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.

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Don’t be that guy

So I have a bit of a bone to pick. I have seen a rash of “woe is me” posts lately. And, admittedly, I am probably not the most sympathetic person when it comes to privileged people whining about how rough they have it. And I am particularly unsympathetic when young and conventionally attractive women whine about how hard it is being a cis, white, attractive, young woman. I mean don’t you know their life is JUST SO HARD! Well I have had a rough few weeks. So my normally sparse sympathy is currently nonexistent. Yes, yes… I know that cis, white, conventionally attractive young people do have the same basic capacity to have problems just like all other people do. But really… cry me a fucking river.

So you are the poor, poor girl that everyone wants to play with. It’s just terrible that you have access to so much play.  Yes, I hear you that you want love with your play. Frankly, so do I. I think a lot of people do. That isn’t where you lost me. I was already lost when you were whining about something that so very many people don’t have access to at all. With loving partners or not. People who would love to be able to play, but simply don’t have anyone willing to play with them. People who don’t fit the conventional standards of beauty. People who are differently abled. Trans people dealing with ridiculous prejudice. These people also deserve loving people to play with. The main difference is that they don’t always have the opportunity to even turn people down for play a lot of the time. So yeah. I get that you are unhappy you pretty, young, white, cis woman who already has a daddy. You poor thing. I just feel for you that one loving partner to play with isn’t enough for you. And you had to let the internet know how rough it is to be so pretty that everyone wants you. Yes. Isn’t it horrible for you…

And you too, poor girl too cute to be taken seriously. I feel for your terrible plight. Being young and pretty is just horrible. I mean, all the answers to the thread basically said that being young and cute is a good thing. But we all know how hard it is.

In short. If you are an able bodied, cis, young, white woman… please stop complaining about your partner-finding issues. Everyone has a rough time finding compatible partners. And you are actually quite privileged. Just try to imagine not having nearly as many options. Like if you were an elderly, differently abled, trans person of color seeking play partners. Think about that for a minute.

Yeah. That’s what I thought.

 

Caveats: I speak from my own place of privilege as someone with two compatible partners. And I fully accept that just because one is privileged in one area, they could be disadvantaged in other areas. I also do think it sucks when people in general are seeking connection and can’t find it, no matter their circumstances/privileges.

Open letter to rope people

Dear rope people,

The takate kote is not the only way to tie someone up. There are plenty of other ways to tie someone up. You don’t have to put the arms behind the back. In fact, you don’t even have to tie the arms up at all. I promise, nobody will take away your Official Shibari Master Club card. And really, if you are all so concerned about the dreaded nerve damage and the even more dreaded wrist drop

Maybe you should do a different fucking tie.

Seriously. I am sick of hearing the “woe is me” whining from rope bottoms bemoaning how they have to sacrifice their body for their art. Newsflash, you don’t have to. I’m even more sick of hearing the self-congratulatory blatherings of rope tops about how they have tied up someone, that someone got nerve damage, and the top is doing the right thing by admitting it happened. Congratulations for being a decent human.

Now you can all keep whining about nerve damage and the dangerous dangers of your dangerous shibari…

Or you can do a different fucking tie.

That is all,

Anonymouskinky

This is my life: I am a slave and you will do Master things to me right now!

When I first entered the kink scene, I thought I was a slave. I really believed that was where I fit in. It wasn’t, of course. But I hadn’t done any soul searching on the subject since I was brand new. I had no natural instinct about it. Perhaps because it all happened very suddenly and there were so many things happening at once. Perhaps it was because all of the examples of kink that I had before me were M/f. In the end, it doesn’t matter why, it matters that I wasn’t a slave. I wasn’t even submissive. What matters is that I did think about it eventually, after I slowed down enough to quit doing and start thinking. What matters is that I did find that natural instinct after I was not simply overwhelmed with delight in finding something that actually stirred me sexually.

So when I say that sometimes people are a little confused about exactly where they fall on the kink spectrum, I know from personal experience that it happens! When I say that sometimes, someone needs to figure out what actually works for them… brings them joy or personal fulfillment… turns them on… I know what I’m talking about. I think it’s wonderful when people are basically born with a whip in their hand. Those people who have these feelings or desires very early on have it all figured out by the time I was just stumbling into kink. They’re lucky.

I was not lucky so much as I was confused. I didn’t mean to mislead anyone. I genuinely thought I was great slave material! I was convinced I would make some nice man a wonderful slave. I was dead wrong. I am only happy that I didn’t have many dominant partners before I figured out that I was a dominant myself. And I thank the people who helped my on my journey in figuring that out. I admire their patience. I admire their restraint as well. Nobody yelled at me or tried to force me to be something I’m not. I haven’t always been so kind to the confused people in my life. I’m certainly not perfect. My past partners were merely trying to get me to do the things I said I wanted to do. To be the way I said I wanted to be.

But, of course, I wasn’t. And I didn’t want to do those things. I thought I was those things. But there is a world of difference between bottoming and submitting. And while I could manage bottoming, I never managed submitting. It was easy enough to get me to do the things I brought up. But I wasn’t very good at doing the things they wanted me to do. Sure, I might try it once to see if I liked it. But the problem was getting me to do anything more than once. And that was just in the context of play. I can’t even imagine the colossal pain in the ass I would have been if anything had ever moved from play partners to anything more.

So, my “submission” looked something like this:

Me: Hey, I saw this guy tying up this girl and spanking her. I want to try that with you.

Them: Well I am good with rope. I can totally do that.

 

Them: I am very good with a flogger. Have you ever been flogged?

Me: No, but it looked really fun to me when X was being flogged. I do think I want to try that!

 

Do you see a pattern here? I was keen to try new things. I was keen to do the things I wanted to do. But nowhere in there did I indicate that I wanted to do things with a thought to what they actually wanted. Nor did I ever indicate that I wanted to give up any control to anyone. I wanted to try the things I wanted to try. I wanted someone to do those things to me. Sure, I expected that they would enjoy the things to. But that was certainly not my main motivation.

Yes. I was a do-me bottom. And a confused one at that!

Not that being a bottom is wrong or bad. It isn’t. Bottoms are wonderful to have! They are the perfect counterpoint to tops. And do-me bottoms aren’t even a bad thing. They are the perfect counterpoint to service tops. But bottoming is not the same thing as submitting. And if you don’t have a conversation with your partner, it can lead to frustration and confusion. For both/all of you.

So listen up all you submissive people! Ask yourself if you want to do the things you want to do. Do you want to do the things that your partner wants to do? Maybe you want to do things that are mutually agreeable to all parties. Ask yourself if your main priority (not your only one, perhaps, but your main one) is you or your partner(s). Ask yourself if you want someone else making decisions about your scene. Or your life. Or maybe you want to be the one making those decisions. If your answers are anything like the examples above? Perhaps you are not submissive. Perhaps you are a bottom. Perhaps you are a do-me bottom. Perhaps you are actually… a dominant.

It happens sometimes that we are all a bit confused. And the best thing we can do for our own peace of mind and happiness is to give it some thought so that we can figure out what actually works for us. How can we find our happiness if we don’t even have a clue what it looks like?

Femdom play: fantasy vs. reality

The idea was to do some bondage and draw some designs on one of the guys…

I would tie up his hot naked body, the rope slowly getting tighter around him. Him, getting more turned on by the tightness of the rope. By being immobilized, naked, and vulnerable. Then, after I had him helpless and bound, I would use his flesh as a canvas for my art. Drawing on him languorously, the wet paint feeling cool against his hot skin… further exciting him. He is my object. My toy and my art. Finally, I would use his bound body for my sexual gratification. Riding him until he is begging me to be allowed to orgasm.

That was the fantasy. Sounds hot right? (I think it sounds hot, but I admit to quite a bias since it was my idea.) So here’s the reality…

I began tying him and his arm was feeling swollen. I loosened the rope but it still felt off a bit. I checked his motor reactions, and they were good. I asked if he thought he could continue or if he were feeling any numbness/tingling. He said he wasn’t feeling any numbness, tingling, or pain. Just that his arm felt a bit swollen and heavy. He said he thought he could continue, and would let me know if he needed to come out of the tie. But he was not comfortable or getting into any kind of pleasant headspace from being in the bondage. He was mildly annoyed and uncomfortable in a bad way. He was also cold, as my air conditioner refused to raise the temperature to any modicum of warmth. That thing has a mind of its own.

After I had managed to get him tied up, I checked back in and he was fine to continue. So I began writing on him. Unfortunately, by this time, he was falling asleep. Which was causing him to twitch and jerk about. Not good for trying to make a cohesive design. So I kept having to pinch and poke him to keep him awake. That sounds relatively sexy, but he didn’t enjoy it because he was literally falling asleep. I didn’t particularly enjoy it because it was interrupting my drawing and wasn’t giving me any kind of fun reactions.

When I had finished making my masterpiece on him, I had planned on ravishing him. But he let me know that he couldn’t manage in the bondage any longer. So I began to untie him. So much for having a helpless, squirming bundle of passion under me! Once I got him untied, he was freezing without the rope to help keep him warm. So I snuggled up to him to try to keep him warm. We did at least end up having sex. The second time went much better than the first. I think he had recovered from being tired and cold by that point.

Femdom reality. Yep.

This is my life: miracle weekend

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!

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.