And now: a long overdue update

March 13, 2014 at 4:01 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , )

Other than the writing I’ve just posted (which I actually wrote last night, and put first on Fetlife), I’ve not updated this blog for several months.

The latter part of 2013 was… hard. Very hard. My fainting fit at my first weekend with the Ranger turned out to be seizures. I have Non-Epileptic Attack Disorder, it turns out: probably kicked off by stress from the divorce, and the fall-out from all of the abuse (both by my family, and by the Warrior). Then I spent much of the autumn very mentally ill indeed, and frequently suicidal. The combination of the two have led to a massive flare-up of my ME/CFS, and I’m mostly needing to use my wheelchair when out and about.

I got through it. I got through it, and spring is here. I’m still living with the Magician, and we have Exciting Life Plans. And I’m still in a relationship with the Ranger — indeed, we count the beginning of our relationship from March 17th, so it’s our anniversary in a few days. Both my relationships are a constant source of joy and strength.

The Warrior and I are now divorced. We’re on oddly quite good terms, especially having had a nice chat at a social event a few weeks ago. We still have some paperwork to sort out. I’m managing to hold in my head that odd twisty thing where I like him and wish him very well, but still have a lot of work to do to heal from his emotional, financial and sexual abuse of me. Brains are funny, people are complex. So the world goes. 😉

My body has changed a little more. Illness has aged me in the past year, and the inevitable lack of exercise from the ME flare-up has led to my putting on some more weight. I’ve been suffering from sporadic problems with emotional over-eating. I’m mostly not too happy about this, but accepting it, especially recalling that it’s likely to be temporary. I finally noticed in the autumn that with the extra weight and just the shape-changing of aging, I am no longer a small-breasted person! I was fitted for bras a few weeks ago, and it turns out that I’m roughly a 34DD. I now have three excellent bras (a plain white sports bra, a gorgeous black plunge bra, a super-sexy black-and-red lacy thing), and also a binder, and so enjoy the wonders of, essentially, optional breasts. As a polygendered person? Really not hating that.

I’m having physiotherapy to sort out some of my joint problems and trouble with walking. I’m getting a little more toned from the physio exercises, and I am noticing yet again that despite everything I actually put on muscle very quickly. I’m managing to lift weights more often, and am starting to get some biceps. Also not hating that.

Sex and kink are hard to do much of when very ill, but I’ve had some glorious times over the last few months for all that, especially with the Ranger. The Magician’s becoming more confident in identifying as “grey-ace”, or simply as asexual, and we have started to find more ways of finding the spaces where our kinks converge and creating beautiful things there. Here is where poly comes into its own, of course, because I am, it turns out, when free from abusive relationships, really an intensely sexual as well as kinky person. The Magician creating art on me and then spanking me and photographing me is both a memory that will stay with me for a while, and an event that we both hope and intend will happen more often! We’ve discussed him painting my breasts. We’ve talked about the use of clothes pegs on my nipples. I’m wondering how it would feel to have him flog my breasts and then draw on them. I have as a motivation for us both to catch up on laundry, to have him choose my outfit before we go out to social occasions, so that all evening I can feel secretly, decoratively, his.

Meanwhile, the last time the Ranger and I were alone in his house, I ended up tied by my wrists to a bedpost and spanked, hard. Then making myself come at his command, while he made patterns with rope across my chest. Then showering together, stroking each other’s wet skin with increasing fervour. Then being pressed against the cold wall of the shower while he kissed me, hard. Then sinking to my knees below the stream of water, taking him in my mouth. Then back in the bedroom, being soundly fucked on my hands and knees. And swearing comedically after he made me come yet again, him wielding a vibrator on my clit, his eyes holding mine.

I also note that it’s been rather too long since I last dominated the Ranger. And I have some fun ideas for what might happen when next I do. 😉

The difference the past year has made to my confidence and ease with my sexuality and kink-self is extraordinary. I suspect I still have some way to go! But it’s wonderful, to be able to feel that none of the things that have happened to me – not the rapes, nor the abuse, nor the crushing daily impact of the patriarchy – have succeeded in permanently robbing me of my sexual power, nor of my sovereignty and confidence in my body. It took a long time, but I am starting to get my power back.

Life and healing have some hard challenges ahead for me, I know. But after such a distance already travelled, and with two such wonderful partners to help me on my journey? I think I’m going to get there. 🙂

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Finding my dominance again: happiness, confidence, and a certain amount of awe…

April 20, 2013 at 12:26 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , )

It is a mark of the enormous trust I have for the Magician that I can submit to him, and I honestly did not expect that I would ever want to, let alone feel able to, submit to anyone else.

The Ranger and I are still a little under three weeks away from our first date, but it’s very clear already that we both passionately want him to dominate me. Our chats have been getting, if anything, steamier, more desperate, and around 50% of them have involved him dominating me. Including one last night that I am still joyfully reeling from. 🙂

And the other 50% involve me dominating him, and that’s where things get interesting. Because, thanks to the Magician, I already have some healthy, positive, *exceedingly hot* experiences as a sub. Yes, it takes a level of trust that I never truly thought I’d find with anyone other than the Magician. But it is a part of me that I have already started to become comfortable with. A part of me I understand. A way of inhabiting kink space that I find healing and helpful, as well as fantastically hot. Finding that I love submitting to the Ranger as well as the Magician was a surprise and a pleasure for us both, but in retrospect, it makes total sense.

But my own experiences prior to this as a dom, other than a couple of ill-advised chats several years ago with a Bad News person, have all involved the Warrior. Not good. Not good at all. When I first started writing this blog, I was genuinely of the opinion that I might never enjoy dominating anyone again – I was beginning to wonder if I’d been mistaken in believing myself as a switch. I had a few toppy feelings towards the Magician (he really does have a gloriously spankable bottom 🙂 ), but obviously never acted on them.  But no really *dominant* feelings, and all far less powerful than my submissive feelings towards him.

I have learned to associate dominating, with being cajoled, pressurised, into doing something for someone whose submission to me was never about *me*, and never came with genuine respect. With using that control as a means of keeping myself safe, not to truly enjoy it. And the very thought of engaging as a dom in the kind of intense mind-fucks that the Magician and I enjoy, repelled me in the extreme – because the only sub I thought I’d ever have was the Warrior, and over the last few years especially, I just didn’t want to get our brains that close to each other.

Dominating someone is, if done right, at least as much of an exercise of trust in them as submitting to them. This I knew – but, in the midst of what my relationship with the Warrior had become, and how he treated me – I never joined the dots. Never realised that my absolute, and warranted, lack of trust in him, was part of the problem here…

So, that gives some context to what follows.

Which is, that dominating the Ranger is something I am finding both ferociously hot, and utterly safe and lovely. That winning his trust, giving him wonderful experiences, having him entirely at my mercy and loving what I’m doing to him, is intoxicating and glorious and makes me boggle at myself for ever thinking that I might not be a switch.

And there is added power in it, because before he and I started our chatting and shared fantasies, he believed he was entirely a dom. That he can and does joyfully submit to me, that I’ve helped him discover and explore this side of him, is one of the greatest honours I can imagine. Every time I look at his fetlife profile, and see that he now describes himself as a switch, when before he did not, I find myself smiling. I laugh about it sometimes – claim to be smug, wonder whether there’s a switch equivalent of the toaster that members of the Bisexual Recruitment Army get. 😉 But actually, most of what I feel is awe, and gratitude, and responsibility, and protectiveness, and love. I treasure it, and I treasure him.

So far, we’ve only shared fantasies, and snatched moments of privacy last weekend. But I’ve given him his first taste of subspace. I’ve come very close to hypnotising him, with just a look and a few words. I’ve made him shake, and made him gasp, and made him swear. I’ve drawn intense, automatic obedience from him. I’ve rendered him speechless, and also sent him to a place where he’s described his submissive feelings with such a beautiful, touching eloquence that, re-reading it, it almost made me cry.

I’ve found aspects of dominance within myself that I didn’t know I had. And I know the kind of dom that I am, and want to be: ruthless, calm, sadistic – but also caring, affectionate, nurturing. Full of praise for pain well taken, obedience well given. Full of encouragement, full of forgiveness. And absolutely in control.

I’ve learned from the best – shamelessly borrowing from some aspects of the Magician’s domming style, and also a little from what I’ve seen of the Ranger’s own style as a dom. But most of all, I’ve found those places in my brain that buzz delightfully at taking a strong, powerful, brilliant, beautiful, wonderful man, and having him give me that power. At playing with it, and with him. And then returning it to him, stronger, I hope, than ever. I’ve found those places in my brain, and I’ve mixed them with just the person that I am, and I like what comes of that.

I pray that I never quite get over how magical this all is, nor ever take it for granted.

I feel like, for the first time in my life, I am truly, genuinely pretty happy with my sexual and kink-self. I’ve still got ways to go, but the background level is that of comfort, of safety, of self-respect, of content. And, even though my mental health is very poor just now, and I’m feeling broken and weak in many ways, the new strength that feeling at ease with myself sexually for the first time is bringing me, is giving me firm and powerful hopes for how very, very well I am eventually going to be.

And in the meantime, just… *wow*. Being a switch is the best. And the Magician and the Ranger are wonderful. I am awfully lucky. 🙂

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Dream recovery…

April 20, 2013 at 11:24 am (Uncategorized) (, , , )

For the second time since getting involved with the Ranger, last night I dreamed that the Warrior was putting pressure on me to have sex with him again.

His argument was simple: you are doing this, this and this with the Ranger. Therefore you should be doing things with me, too. I was miserable, but a large part of me was all, “oh, well, since you put it like that…”.

The Magician was strangely absent from the dream, which fortunately did not get a lot further before I was woken by the alarm.

 

The first time I had a dream like this, it spun me, and left me feeling dreadful. This morning, while I am a little haunted by it, mostly I’m just relieved. I’ve woken up in a world where I don’t ever, *ever* have to let the Warrior touch me, ever again. And if he tries to touch me (in any capacity) without my consent, or tries to pressure me into touching him, then the wrath of a fair number of close friends, which is so far being held in check largely at my request, is likely to descend on him in a pretty bloody impressive way.

I may choose to hug him or shake his hand when I next see him. I don’t have to. I may choose to let him see me naked again (given that we both attend an annual weekend-long gathering at which there is a sauna). Again I don’t have to. It’ll be my choice, entirely. And if I do let him see me naked, it will be with the slightly petty but entirely justified satisfaction of knowing that he will be seeing something he is never, *ever* going to touch, ever again. That my bare skin is for others now, not him. And that I am no longer tied by marriage, by guilt, by being worn down, into feeling responsible in any way for his sexual needs, or his desire for me. I owe him nothing (beyond the decency and respect that I hope to manage towards all), and he has no one to blame for this but himself.

No one, ever, is going to guilt-trip, cajole, whine or otherwise pressure me into sex again. And every time my subconscious disturbs me with my fear of the Warrior getting to do that, I will have the joy of waking into a world where this is not the case.

 

And, besides. I highly doubt he even fancies me any more, and as far as I’m aware, he and his girlfriend are intending to be entirely exclusive. Which is fine, and their choice, and clearly what she wanted from him all along. And they’re bloody well welcome to each other. 🙂

 

My body, my sexuality – they are for me. But also, they are wonderful, powerful things that I get to share with people of my choosing. People who value me. People who understand consent. People who love me. People who make me tremble with desire. And in the Magician and the Ranger, I know I have chosen exceedingly well. 🙂

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Also, a note on rage

October 4, 2011 at 2:02 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

I was reading more of Healing Sex yesterday, in particular what to do about triggers during sexual activity.

Both during sexual activity and at other times, the most common trigger for me to get at the moment is rage.

This isn’t surprising. I have a *huge* amount of rage and anger stored up from when I was a child. Most of it I turned into anxiety or depression, or bottled it within my body where it contributed to my disabilities and generally high state of physical tension. We all find ways of coping with abuse, and with being taught by abusers that certain emotions aren’t acceptable, and that was mine. I’m not at all an angry person in the way that I interact with people as an adult. But the rage is still there, stored up – and hurting me. And making it harder for me to express legitimate anger when I experience it now.

I think there will come a point where sexual and/or kink activity can be part of healing from that. At the moment, it very much isn’t – and I’m especially scared of hitting some of that anger while topping, for obvious reasons. I have a clearer idea of the kind of Dom I want to be now – one whose power shows in calm, in focus, in quiet control. Very much a benevolent sadism! The Magician’s domminess is very much of that ilk, and it’s what I find sexiest, as well as most accessible from my own character. I think it will dovetail rather beautifully with the Warrior’s cheerful, hedonistic submissiveness, too! It’s also, I note, the most clear and thorough contrast with the total, vicious lack of control that I experienced from my abusers. That is, unsurprisingly, very important to me.

So! One of the things I am working on at the moment is finding ways of expressing and channeling my anger in ways that are satisfying but also non-harmful to myself and others. And, where at all possible, actively helpful!

I’ve had some lovely suggestions from various friends of mine, including sword-fighting with the Magician (he has some LARP swords, and is a fine swordsman himself 🙂 ), learning to bake bread, vicious cleaning in the bathroom, helping the Warrior with throwing bottles into a recycling skip, primal screaming, and getting one of those elasticated stress balls. Practising my jabs and crosses and kicks for the forthcoming acting challenge may also help. I’ve also had hitting (sturdy) trees with sticks suggested to me. I’m less convinced about the last of those, and will at least need to ask permission from the tree before I do it, and thank it afterwards! Maybe one or two might be okay with that though. 🙂

I’ll see how things go. It is very nice to have some ideas to be going on with (though I’m certainly up for more suggestions!) I think that expressing my stored up rage – both as it arises from triggering, and, where I can, as I deliberately seek out new layers of it – is one of the most important healing activities that I can be doing. Wish me luck?

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