How to Begin

We keep track of the statistics for this little bit of cyberspace using StatCounter. We do watch our stats go up and down, and we sometimes scratch our heads in utter amazement at what it is that brings people here. It isn't always, or even often, clear at all.



Overnight, we had someone find their way to The Heron Clan by typing in a Google search looking for "what should I ask my Master before I give my submission." We came up, among the other hits for that query, because of what I wrote here about the differences between BDSM and Domestic Discipline. I can't imagine that, if the seeker was looking for advice about how to negotiate ahead of entering into a D/s or M/s dynamic, that they found what they were looking for. I don't believe I've ever even come close to discussing or addressing that topic area.



I am not clear that I am the person who ought to talk about this, given my experience. All I can do is reconstruct the path that brought me to this life. Perhaps there is something in the story that others might find instructive.



It was the month of March; exactly this time of the year, six years ago. We'd known each other, at that point for a little over two years. Mostly, our contact was by IM, email, and long-distance phone calls -- because I was living in Denver, Colorado, and He and T were here in Ohio. We would travel, one way or the other, to visit and play, usually several times a year, but ours was a long-distance relationship.



We'd already declared our love for one another, and weathered the storms that were the result of that revelation. We'd come together, as a "quad" at the new year to make the final decision that would bring us together as a "family." We understood that we were moving to make that a reality.



We hadn't set a date. We hadn't discussed timing.



That day, in March, He and I were IM'ing, and I was running down a litany of perfectly sensible and rational reasons why it would be "at least" two years before we could reasonably make the move. After all, I told Him, there was a lot to do...



I will always remember the words as they blinked across my screen: "Do you think that we will live forever? Get here to me this summer!"



And, I did exactly that. I sold my home; quit my teaching job; said goodbyes to the grown children and my mother; packed all the household goods that I didn't sell; and separated from the few friends that had shared my path to that point. Just a bit more than 24 hours after the last children walked out of my classroom in Colorado that first week in June, we pulled up out in front of the apartment complex where He and T were living, and where we had rented the apartment next door to theirs.



I don't recall that there was any negotiation to that process. He said, "come," and I obeyed. There was huge eagerness between us, but very little in the way of conversation about our respective expectations for the relationship that we were creating. I remember asking, once, about what "sex" would be like between He and I -- a question which He answered with absolute candor and honesty.



We thought we knew what we were doing. Neither of us were "children." We were of a certain age. We'd played together a few times by then, and we'd talked and talked and talked. We were dreadfully, irretrievably, ridiculously in love.



So, clearly, I am no expert at the business of submissives negotiating with Dominants in the beginning stages of a power exchange dynamic. I've seen negotiations carried out to a rather remarkable degree of precision before people entered into short-term scenes in my local public dungeon. I've surely read a whole lot of advice on the subject. In practice, it wasn't like that for me with Him. I'm not clear, that if I had it to do over again, I'd do it a whole lot differently. There is all that "theory," and then there is the reality of what is at stake when you make this kind of move. I'm not convinced that you can really "negotiate" the entry into this kind of dynamic -- anymore than you can negotiate the final step over the edge of a cliff.



If I'd asked questions then; if I'd tried to come up with some list of "limits" or "requirements," I think I would have been entirely caught up in the "physical" implications of our pending arrangement. It would have been the kind of thing that comes up on "check lists" like one finds on sites that try to provide BDSM information for beginners: what and how much and how often and how hard and on and on. I would have seen, and possibly tried to address, what was within the scope of my vision. It would have been grotesquely inadequate in terms of trying to define the life that I was about to step into.



I can't imagine. I can't imagine Him being anything but amused (or perhaps mildly annoyed) by me attempting to define the life that He was calling me into with Him. He was utterly sure and completely in control at that point. My submission was not something that He needed me to "give" to Him. He had the vision for us together, and He would have it in exactly the form that He could see in His mind's eye. So, part of me believes that if the question is "what has to be in place between us before I agree to give my submission?" there is already an issue of whether the Dominant partner is ready to assume that control.



I suppose that, if I had the gift of prescience that would have allowed me to see into the future, I'd have asked:

• What will we do to mitigate the unavoidable impacts of aging and health changes on our life together?




• How will You help me and guide me through the emotions that I'll encounter when/as You become "bored" with me (as You surely will) and seek to create relationships beyond just "us?"




• How will we find the strength together to withstand all the unexpected and uncontrollable vagaries of living our lives day to day?




• How will you shelter me and us from the impacts of social sanction and isolation related to our lifestyle?

Those are the far more piercing questions that might have been asked. I doubt very much that He'd have been able to answer those "look into the future and tell me it will always be OK" questions with any kind of specificity or accuracy. The only truthful answers to those kinds of quetions have to fall into the "I don't know" realm.



So. No answer to what questions one ought to ask a Dominant or a Master ahead of deciding to enter a power-based relationship dynamic. The only advice that I can come up with, six years later, is to reach for a level of self-awareness that makes it seem "right" for you personally to follow the path that lies at your feet, aware that there are hurdles and chasms ahead that you cannot see or predict. There is no way to eliminate the risks; no way to prevent the disasters and challenges that will come up along the way; no way to measure the ratio of joy to sorrow that might be your portion. In the end, it is His tag line that seems to offer the best advice: "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you've imagined."



swan

His World View Quiz

Following up on swan's World View Quiz, referenced in her Talking Religion post, I was curious and so went and took the quiz myself.

She and I match. Except that I have higher numbers in almost every category. Of course. Singing "I'm more existential than you are. I'm more existential than you..."

Tom

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you've imagined.

What is Your World View? created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Existentialist Existentialism emphasizes human capability. There is no greater power interfering with life and thus it is up to us to make things happen. Sometimes considered a negative and depressing world view, your optimism towards human accomplishment is immense. Mankind is condemned to be free and must accept the responsibility. Existentialist 88% Cultural Creative 81% Postmodernist 75% Idealist 75% Materialist 38% Modernist 31% Romanticist 25% Fundamentalist 19%

Talking Religion

I've gotten myself involved, recently, in "theological" discussions with several people.

I'm honestly not sure why people DO that conversation with me. I'm not "religious" in the usual sense. I usually refer to myself as a "spiritual backpacker." It is a descriptor that seems, to me, to illustrate the way I tend to approach things that fall into the spiritual realm: I have wandered through my life encountering a wide variety of spiritual practices and theories. Sometimes, I've spent time with a particular group or with someone who seems to feel like a "teacher" for me. However that has gone, I've tended to "take what makes sense or works" and leave the rest. I travel pretty light, from a religious point of view.

If I get actually pushed, by someone who really wants to listen to me ramble on about what I "believe," I can give an explanation of my "cosmological" view of things. The usual problem is that there is very little "typical" vocabulary to my belief system that makes it accessible to someone who is mired in traditional Christianity, or even to someone who assumes the existence of a personified deity.

I see all of the creation as dynamic and interconnected. It is my belief that we are creating the universe as we go along -- all of us. What we conceive of as "evolution" is, in my view, simply the aggregate of the creative forces of all the lives in the universe. It is how, throughout time, humans have come to posit the existence of a "god" -- we can feel that drive within us, and most often, assume it is "other than" ourselves. I just don't think it is.

So, when we "pray," we simply envision and give voice to the evolution that we are creating; for ourselves and others and our world. There is no god "out there" to save us or to blame for our messes. We are the creative divine spirit in the universe.

I do think that our energy exceeds the boundaries of our physical bodies. That would be the "physics" that I studied over the years. Perhaps that energy essence expands and outstrips the confines of our lives. I'd subscribe to some kind of reincarnation theory probably.

I found an interesting quiz about what sort of "believer" you are. The results were surprising to me, but not all that far off. Here they are.

swan

What is Your World View? created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Existentialist Existentialism emphasizes human capability. There is no greater power interfering with life and thus it is up to us to make things happen. Sometimes considered a negative and depressing world view, your optimism towards human accomplishment is immense. Mankind is condemned to be free and must accept the responsibility. Existentialist 75% Idealist 69% Cultural Creative 69% Materialist 56% Postmodernist 50% Romanticist 31% Modernist 19% Fundamentalist 13%

Not "Good" Pain

I hurt my back. I'm not sure exactly how. I suspect it may have been in the lifting and moving of the heavy cooler that we took with us on our trip, perhaps aggravated by the lengthy hours spent in the car as we drove home, and then back (to retrieve the cane) and then home again. Whatever the cause, I am a mess. My lower back is all spasmed up and I can barely move.



This is NOT "good" pain. Not fun. Not sexy. Not kinky. It just hurts.



I tried to get an appointment with a chiropractor, at His insistence, but couldn't get in until next Thursday. I did make an appointment at a local massage business that just opened near us, called Massage Envy. An hour spent with a massage therapist named Michael, has me about convinced that I am in love with the man (and willing to kidnap him and hold him hostage right here), but my back still hurts.



Luckily, T has some muscle relaxants left over from a spill she took awhile back. With one of those in my system, I am at least able to sleep.



But -- I am useless. I can hardly walk. I can't reach anything that is on the floor or on a low shelf or in a low cupboard. Can't do the massage thing for Him. And, while my mind is in full gear -- ready to ask for spankings, there seems no way my body will accommodate that just now. So. Add frustration to the whole mix.



Seems I will just have to tough it out here with my heating pad until things heal enough for me to get moving again. Sheesh!



swan

The World's Most Expensive Cane (or Why We Might be Too Old for This)

The vacation was nice. We got home. We unpacked. We settled in to catch up on email and pet the cats and just sort of ease back into our lives.


He was surfing His favorite blogs, and had just settled in to read at Spanking Blog when all of the sudden He looked at me and said, "Did you pick up the cane?"


It was an immediate "OH SHIT" moment for me. I knew exactly where the cane was -- hanging in its sheath on the door knob in the bedroom of the cabin that we'd checked out of this morning at about 10:00. A two-hour drive from us. And that was IF they had found our cane and it was still there.


I knew -- knew without any question -- that I would go back there today, and retrieve that cane. I got on the phone and called the cabin rental office. No answer. I left a message, saying that we'd left a cane hanging on the door in the cabin bedroom, and stating that I was on my way back to try and get it. I said it would take me a couple of hours, and I asked if they would please call me back.


He insisted that He WAS ABSOLUTELY going with me. No way on earth He was letting me drive up to get it alone.


Before we could get it together to leave the house, they had called and assured us that they did have the cane. They were a little surprised I think that we were coming back to get it tonight.


I know. It probably sounds a little crazy to most people. But it is THE cane that we just got -- THE cane that took us so awfully long to find -- THE cane that replaces the one we broke over a year ago.


We made several unsuccessful attempts to replace that first cane -- ordered and paid for probably at least three, or maybe four canes that were of unsatisfactory quality. Finally, He gave up and ordered the "Deluxe" model cane from Adam and Gillian's. It was an investment of $70.00 + shipping, but given what we'd already invested in junk, we were ready to do it. So figure at the point where we ordered that cane, we had a couple hundred dollars invested in the search. Today, given the cost of gas for the approximately 200 mile rescue trip to and fro, we've spent another $20. That's one expensive cane.


Anyway, we got up and our weekend hosts had it. Handed it right to us with a grin. Of course.


Personally, I am thinking that when you get too old to remember your toys, it is possible that you are getting too old.


On the other hand, traveling with Master is a major event for our household -- shoes, knives, clothes, food, toys, computer, radio, grill and grill tools, beverages, and just basic clothing flung all over the place. It takes T and I, and some significant planning and organization to pull it off. We both scour the place once we are packed and loaded -- trying to make sure we don't overlook some bit of important stuff that He's brought along and then put somewhere that we won't notice it and pick it up. I actually remember waking up in the middle of the night, seeing the cane hanging there, and thinking, "I need to remember to grab that in the morning." I really should have just gotten out of bed and picked it off the door right then. Of course, I never even thought about it in the morning, and the hanging place on the back of the door, just didn't catch either my eye or T's. Absent minded? Or just buried in the details?


Whatever. We have the world's most expensive cane back, safe here with us.



swan

Back from Vacation

We've been away.
Just for a few days, but it was great to take a break from all that drives our daily routines.
We rented a cabin in The Hocking Hills -- a scenic area that is north and east of here about a two hour drive. It was really a lovely setting, away from phones and computers (a bit of a challenge in the beginning as Himself did not expect that and went through some serious withdrawal). Our hosts were friendly and helpful as we needed them. We spent plenty of time soaking and chatting in the hot tub on that front porch. We grilled out for dinner each night. We slept late. We drove through the countryside taking in the scenery. He and I managed to work in a session one afternoon. We made love in the quiet mornings. In short, we relaxed for a change.

It has been two years since we took any kind of time off. We'd forgotten how rejuvenating it can be. This morning, we all bounced up, ready to take life back on again. Packed it all up and headed home.

Good to go. Good to come home.

swan

Post Office

I made a short trip to the post office early this afternoon to mail some packets of material to board members for His agency. He gave me the agency credit card to use to pay for the necessary postage. The card has His name and His signature on it.



After waiting for what seemed like forever in a ridiculous line at the post office, I finally made it to the counter. The clerk was friendly and helpful -- pleasant surprise. He weighed each of the 3 packets, affixed the appropriate postage, and told me that it would be $6.99. I handed him the credit card.

He looked at the card; looked at me; looked back at the card; once more to me... Finally he said, "I guess you're Tom's?"

I blinked, a little stunned. I finally caught up with him, and responded, "That would be true."

He nodded. Ran the card. Handed me the slip to sign, and we were on about our days.



So much for that "hiding in plain sight" trick.




swan

Differences?

I read on a Yahoo listserve for "Poly Researchers." It is, as the name implies, a list of and for those doing "serious" research into polyamory. The participants are almost all academics or "professionals" of whatever sort, who all have some sort of apparently valid credential qualifying them as a member of this "August" group. They mostly discuss research methodologies and research resources. They also tend to a fair amount of what seems to me to be "credential" one-upsmanship. A sort of academic version of "mine's bigger than yours." I had to talk my way onto the list because, as someone who ONLY lives a poly life, they were afraid that I'd just want to talk all the time about my experience, and detract from the serious "research" discussions they were engaged in. I promised to just read and not talk, and they let me join. Yeah.

Recently, there was a research survey that appeared on the list. The purpose, it seems, was to gather data from people (not necessarily poly people) who were engaged in "multiple partner relationships" of some sort. It did say that if you considered yourself "poly" you were welcome to participate, so I went ahead and completed it. One section of it got into asking for "definitions" or descriptions that would outline the differences between various types of multiple partner relating. Their list included:

• polygamous marriages


• open marriage


• swingers


• "players"


• serial monogamy

So, I went merrily through the list and gave some answers, and figured I was done...

Except that I've wondered ever since if there isn't something important to say about all those distinctions -- and if there aren't "gradations" of distinction even within the same category. I know that I look at other "poly" people, and see great variances in how we do what we all refer to as "polyamory."

I am of two minds about all of this.

On the one hand, I believe that words have meaning. We label the things we do, the roles we play, the dynamics we create, in specific ways (in part) so that we may talk about them and discuss them from a place of shared understanding. The vocabulary serves as our vehicle for moving information around in efficient ways. So, I do believe in finding accurate descriptions that make things clear. Just as (in this rainy springtime) we use a variety of descriptors for meteorolgical precipitative events (shower, flurry, downpour, etc.), it makes sense to distinguish the variety of relational styles where appropriate, so that we can talk about them reasonably.


However, I worry that, in dividing and categorizing and labeling each other, we play into the hands of those who would marginalize all of us who create relational patterns that are outside the "norm." That dividing up amongst ourselves leads us to create implied hierarchies of "better than," and "less correct than." We become "us" and "them." That's a very real risk when we are living, all of us, in a society that sees us ALL as "them."


Those are my disclaimers. Those are my misgivings at the point of embarking on this conversation. Still, even with some concerns about the whole business, I think that there is something to be gained from looking at the similarities and differences between us.

Let me begin with polyamory. It is what I (and we) live, and I feel most comfortable commenting about it as a relational model. One of the first things that I think needs to be made clear when talking about polyamory is that there is no ONE relationship pattern that IS polyamory. There are as many different ways of structuring poly relationships as there are poly relationships. I know that, when we meet new people, and decide to tell them about our life together, we end up going through a lengthy list of descriptors and defining terms. It goes something like this: "we are a committed (sometimes we say fidelitous), heterosexual, fMf, BDSM, poly triad, intentional family." So, if we say anything at all, we feel compelled to address issues of sexual orientation, issues of relational openess, issues of numerosity, issues related to power dynamics, the variance of our genders, the geometry of how we relate to one another, and even the business of our "intent" in being together in the first place. We also go to some length to define ourselves as "poly," and not some OTHER alternative relational style. Yikes!

We are not alone in that behavior. Most poly people run through similar litanies to make it clear how, exactly, they relate to their various partners. Polyamory is laden with all kinds of "code" words like primary, secondary, tertiary, quad, triad, dyad, vee, family, web, clan, nest, cloud, heterosexual, bisexual, omnisexual, committed, fidelitous, open, friend with benefits, fuck buddies, etc. We have this need to be able to recognize one another -- both as individuals AND as groups or clusters. I imagine that it is all driven by a desire to know who is "like us" and who is "not like us."

We also tend to explain what we ARE NOT... NOT polygamous, NOT swingers, NOT into poly-fuckery... On and on and on. There is something vaguely troubling about our penchant for defining ourselves in terms that are all couched in the negative; the absence of some affirmative declaration. I'm believing that it is an artifact of feeling estranged and marginalized and actively threatened by the social sanctions against our alternative relationship reality.

At the heart of our polyamory is our sense of ourselves as "family." We are in this together for the long haul, and that long view of our lives together creates a perspective that, I believe, is a very real part of our poly relatedness. It isn't entirely, or even mostly, about the sex or the BDSM or the comings and goings of those "multiple" partners posited by the idea of poly. For us, it is the very organic love and connection that binds us to one another; to our homes; to the life we share.

Those "other" modes of "multiple-partner" relating are far less familiar to me. I don't have personal involvement with them as lifestyle alternatives. What I know about them comes from acquaintance with people who are involved, or it comes from "academic" study.

Polygamy is multipartnered marriage (except, of course, that there is no legal grounds for marriage to more than one partner in the U.S.). Polygamy breaks down, sociologically and anthropologically, into two forms: polygyny (multiple wives), and polyandry (multiple husbands). Across time, and across cultures, it is possible to track down societies that have incorporated each of those forms. In this country, the most prominent polygamists were members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormons). That organization abandoned the practice a good long while back, although there are still pockets of dissidents who cling to the "old" ways. It surely makes for some sensational television programming when the whole subject comes up. Elsewhere, around the world, I understand that the Muslim Qu'ran makes provision for a man to take multiple wives under certain defined conditions. The Muslim people that I know personally, express skepticism about the practical realities of really doing that in today's world.

The concept of "open marriage" dates to the 1972 book written by Nena O'Neill and George O'Neill. It connotes a marriage in which each partner is free to enter into extraneous sexual relationships without guilt or jealousy from the other partner. Open marriage is predicated on the idea that sex is healthy, and that no single partner should be expected to provide everything that their mate may want or need in a relationship. I would say that, depending on the structure of this kind of relationship, it may tend more toward a polyamorous model where each member is aware and in accord with the partnering that may come to pass. Another style of open marriage has the flavor of swinging in the sense that partners may create somewhat casual alliances that are not intended to be permanent or emotionally laden. From my perspective, the "open marriage" model begins with the assumption that there is a marriage relationship in place, and that other connections are "outside" the marriage -- hence the need to become "open." Those connections may be "allowed;" they may be sanctioned; there may be some level of knowledge; there may be the effort to disavow or deal with potential jealousies, but there is no pattern for allowing "equal" relating with partners "outside" the marriage.

Swinging, another form of multiple partner relationship, is defined (Wikipedia) as the practice of engaging in non-monogamous sexual activities. I've known swingers. Those of my acquaintance who follow this model are often very happy in their "couple" relationships, and simply like sex. The swinging model seems, from my limited experience, to recognize and support that there are those who like and appreciate the more casual and light-hearted sexual playing that swinging allows. It isn't about long-term relating; not about forming families or committed groupings -- it is about taking charge of sexual choices in an affirmative way, and then enjoying the connections that are possible within that framework. Some people play bridge, others swing. I know that many "poly" people go to pains to avoid the label of "swinger." It is as if there is a sense that "swinging" is somehow down the emotional and ethical ladder from polyamory. I don't see that. I really do believe that this is a perspective variance. I can't say that one of these approaches is "better" than the other. They are different. The people who use these relationship models are different.

In the bestiary of those who engage in multiple partner relationships, the "player" is the only "predatory" creature. Players may be male or female, but their goal and objective is conquest and capture. This is a social construct in which the potential target is not really viewed as a "partner." Players see the object of their interests as a challenge and a feel themselves to be entered in a sexual/relational contest to be won or lost. It is, in fact, objectification of the man or woman on the receiving end of the equation. It's a stretch, I think, to put this sort of activity into the "relationship" category with the others. There is very little in the way a player approches this business that seems relational to me. "Playing" in this context, is more akin to satisfying an appetite, and, beyond that "counting coup" in a game of status based on prowess.

Finally, there is the kind of relating that has come to be known as "serial monogamy." It is a pattern in which an individual forms relationships that are monogamous for the run of the connection, but which are limited in duration. These limited-life monogamous relationships are then strung together over the lifetime of the serial monogamist, much like beads on a string. While polyamorists might speak in terms of "primary" and "secondary," the serial monogamist will, typically have a history that includes the first wife, second wife, third wife, ... This kind of multi-partering is almost never "intentional." Unlike some of the other models which incorporate multiple relationships with conscious and deliberate intent, serial monogamy is frequently driven by repeated cycles of "euphoric bliss" followed by "catastrophic failure." In theory, at least, the serial monogamist does not deal with most of the relational issues that may confront others engaged in multiple-partner relationships. If the process is truly "serial," then there should be no occassion for jealousy or dealing with competing needs or demands or managing schedules and conflicting calendars. It quite likely doesn't always turn out that way. There is probably, frequently, the kind of overlap that creates those spectaclarly scandalous "celebrity" gossip headlines where the end of one "monogamous" relationship overlaps the beginning of another. Still, conceptually, this is probably the variety of multi-partnered relationship that most people are familiar with and understand best.

So, there's my best shot at describing and discussing the varieties of multi-partnered relationships that I am (even marginally) aware of. Clearly, there is much, much more that could be said about each and all of these. People write entire books on these subjects. I'm not up for book writing this morning...

swan

Snippets

Maybe everyone who writes like this, on some sort of regular basis, has had the experience of having a pile of disconnected bits and pieces of thoughts sort of pile up in your brain. For me, it is like a laundry basket with a growing collection of mate-less socks. After awhile, I feel like I NEED to do something with all those "snippets" of ideas. It just doesn't matter that they refuse to develop into anything substantive, or that there is really nothing in the way of a common theme or thread that I could use to "tie them altogether." I just get worn out having them all banging around inside my head.

So...

A collection of "snippets" with no particular rhyme or reason --

Something I forgot to mention (because I forgot) -- I'm a couple days out from the session over the weekend. As I read my accounting of it in the last post, I realize that it suffers from the general "dippiness" that sometimes settles in over my brain after playing at levels higher than our usual, routine sort of spanking.

Now that my head is a little clearer, I do remember one moment in the midst of it all that turned out to be sort of funny -- although it probably didn't have to be that way.

He was swinging away on my poor, tender backside with (one of) His favorite paddle(s) -- the evil hairbrush paddle -- when my mind went over the edge and tipped into full-blown rage. Suddenly, I was not happy or comfortable. Suddenly I was in full-throated roar, "I'm going to throw that fucking thing in the fire!"

It is, often, my fondest fantasy in the midst of a paddling -- the vision of seeing the paddle flickering at the heart of a raging inferno. Still, I think it but don't really ever say it. Good grief!

So, I was still vibrating with the realization of my own words when He grabbed me by the hair, and speaking directly into my face, said, "Was that 'I'm going to throw that fucking thing into the fire, Sir'?" I immediately appended the requisite "Sir" -- and we went merrily on.

Imagine that -- and I sometimes maintain that we don't do much in terms of ritual and protocol.

We're Soooooo... Old! -- Monday afternoon. I got home from school, and for a change, was feeling halfway decent (I often have a migraine on Monday afternoon). We had a snack together and went in to lie down for a bit before I started to work on dinner.

He was feeling frisky, and suggested a spanking. I did what I often do at that suggestion -- I snuggled into His chest and began the mental process of getting my head into the place I need it to be to go through a spanking...

And promptly, fell sound asleep.

Apparently, so did He.

The very next thing I knew, the alarm was going off, signaling that it was time for me to get up and start the dinner preparations.

How quintessentially evocative of an "old, established" M/s pair... Master suggests a spanking, and the slave goes right to sleep. And, so does Master.

Flambe -- T cooks. T is passionate about cooking. She watches all sorts of cooking shows. She reads cookbooks from cover to cover.

I cook pretty well, too. I'm no slouch.

Between the two of us, we keep Him pretty well fed.

He grills out. Sometimes He makes toast. Occasionally, He warms up a cup of tea in the microwave if He is home alone. Got the picture?

So, a couple weeks ago, sitting at dinner, we were making plans to visit our favorite liquor emporium to replenish our wine stash and restock His supply of brandy and whiskeys of assorted nationalities -- Irish, Canadian, Kentucky (not really a nation, unless you live here across the border, and then you would understand). For whatever reason, and I forget how the conversation got started, He mentioned that we ought to buy a bottle of "Flambe."

T and I told Him, gently, that "flambe" is a cooking method that involves setting foods afire using a flammable liquor -- usually brandy. We tried to explain to Him that there isn't any "beverage" that is called flambe. "Really, Sir -- flambe is something you do; not something you drink."

He was adamant. It is a dance we do sometimes. Master is right, even when He is clearly "wrong." We giggled, but eventually let it go.

The next day, T looked it up on the Internet, and forwarded the results of her research to He and I both. Yup. No such thing as "flambe in a bottle."

It has provided an interesting and workable new "vocabulary" for expressing that Master might be "spouting Masterful nonsense." Turns out that all we need to do nowadays when that sort of situation occurs, is to suggest that whatever it is we are talking about just needs us to pour some "flambe" on it.

So, there you go, assorted silliness from our little clan.

swan

The Session with the New Cane

Long week last week and we don't recover as fast as we used to. I suspect there was the potential for us to get to this on Saturday, but truthfully, neither of us were up for it. Besides, I was in some pretty grim headspace and just not in a frame for anything very heavy. He surely could have proceeded anyway, but was (I suspect) happy enough to wait me out, and get to this when I was feeling a little more "level."


So, today dawned sort of sunny, and we were both feeling a little more lively. Of course, the prospect of setting up the flogging frame is a little daunting -- it is not a light weight piece of furniture. Getting it up and ready to go is a serious bit of heavy lifting. We managed it between us, and I got all the floggers out and set up. He gathered a variety of paddles, straps, and floggers, a few knives -- and the new cane...



And then, we noticed that we were hungry. Time out for breakfast. First things first.



So, I got the waffle iron out, and fed the poor starving Dominant. Wouldn't want Him to keel over in the middle of beating me, after all.



We put Solas on the stereo. Brings out the Irish in Him. Works pretty darned well as scene music.

I got to be on the flogging frame. I am always surprised and glad to get on it and remember how really good it feels. It is so "right" for me. Exactly the right kind of support in all the right places. Of course, since I designed the thing, and had it built exactly to my measurements, that should not be all that surprising.

He started off with some lengthy and delicious hand spanking. Seemed to go on for a good long while, and I loved it.



Things took off from there. Floggers. Suede and buffalo. We don't do flogging much anymore, and I miss it.



After that -- paddles, straps, quirt, and the wonderful, sensual, unbelievably intense cane. Finally, a cane that does what I remember the good cane doing. He laid fire all over my ass with that beast.

He even brought the whip out for just a bit, but by that time I was so spent and so bleary, that I just cried and begged through that part of things. He didn't push it. Thank goodness!



It was, start to finish, really good. Sometimes sexy, sometimes really difficult, sometimes full of joy and power and intense awareness of Him.

It was a really good way to spend a chunk of time on a lovely Sunday.

Thank You, Sir.



swan

New Cane

Just over a year ago, in February of 2007, He broke our favorite rattan cane during a particularly intense session. It was the cane that we'd bought on our trip to Thunder in the Mountains, and we'd played with it many, many times, and taken it with us everywhere we went.



Since then, we have searched and hunted to find a replacement. We've had a notable run of bad luck on that score. He ordered a bundle of "rattan canes" from Hanson Paddlewerks. They were a terrible disappointment. We've sent away for at least one or two other canes in the intervening months. They've proved serviceable, but none of them have risen to the level of excellence (in terms of the product quality) of the one that we broke.



Finally, last week, He capitulated and ordered a deluxe cane from Adam and Gillian's. We've looked at them before, but balked at the price. Sometimes, you just have to pay the price to get the thing you want. It arrived early this week, and it is lovely -- not exactly a duplicate to what we had, but darned close.



Of course, things being what things often are, we've had no time at all to try out that shiny, new cane. It's been here probably three days, and it is still "virgin," sitting untried in its scabbard thing.



But there is hope! Today, I got an email from Him saying that He is fantasizing about a full on session (not just a spanking) that would culminate in the debut of the new cane.



Can I say, "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!?" I don't know exactly what He means or is thinking, but the notion of a REAL session that steps through levels and stages to some culminating point seems terribly exciting. I know I'll likely be entirely miserable at points along the path, but I am still very wrapped up in the potential for playing. I can't wait until there is actually time. Soon I hope.



swan

BEWARE! I am on a tear...

I used to feel that Hillary was a fine 2nd choice for the Democratic Nominee - I am a supporter of Barack Obama's, but felt that I could vote for Hillary if she were the chosen candidate.

But that was before she played the Fear Card against her Democratic field. Before she and Bill played the Race Card. Before she started categorizing states as "important" or "unimportant". Before she started manipulating debate footage of Obama to make him appear "blacker". Before she started endorsing McCain. Before she allowed Geraldine Ferraro to be a "Face & Voice" in her campaign.

I don't even know this woman. But I know that I sure don't want her to be President. Ever. Simply put: her values in no way reflect my values. I am embarrassed that she is a Democrat. I am ashamed of what she has become.

I'm done with Hillary - and I suspect that I'm not alone in that opinion. Being a woman, I am old enough to remember being proud of the 1st woman VP candidate. And I was thrilled when we suddenly had, not only an African-American candidate but a woman, as well, running for President during my lifetime. But Hillary has done everything in her power to make women look weak and pathetic. If you are going to work in a professional field, regardless of the position, then you must carry yourself as anyone would for that position. Crying when it gets tough, is not my idea of a great President.... Is she going to cry when that phone rings at 3am?

I am also done with MSM. Every step of the way, as the Clinton camp cried "Foul!" you have followed along behind her wiping her tears and holding her hand. She has been saying she is "strong" yet acting "weak" and because she is saying that "Media is mean to me....waaaa!" YOU have all laid down and allowed her to get away with anything she wants. It is time to stand up and report the news as it REALLY IS....not as some campaign flunkie hands to you.

Shame on YOU!

T, who is over this crap. Grow a pair or get out of the sandbox, Hil!

Staying Put

Getting back into some higher end, and more regular, SM play presents the (for me) recurrent challenge of "being good" in that context. I WANT to be "good" -- I intend to be "good."

For me, "being good" in a session has some pretty simple parameters. I am required to be respectful; required to address Him as "Sir;" required to stay in position; and of course, required to not do anything to interfere with whatever He is doing. We have a few "protocols" or "rituals" that are related to how spankings get finished, but beyond that, it is all pretty straight forward.

Most often, we play in the bed. That is easier on His joints, and it resolves the issues that I have with balance (which can make me very insecure in some classic spanking positions). He very seldom uses restraints, and never does "bondage." Our most used bit of "spanking equipment," aside from the actual implements themselves, is a very simple backrest/TV pillow like this one. We flip it over on its "face,' and that provides a nifty sort of hill that I can get in position on top of. It gives me support, and causes that nice "elevated" effect that He likes.

I tend to lay on top of a "down" throw blanket, and to wrap it (in a sort of figure eight) around my wrists. I get a death grip on the chain mail links in my collar, and try to hold on. It really is a battle that I fight all on my own:

Stay Put!

The fact is that I can kick my feet; I can bang my head on the mattress; I can wave my arms; I can twist and turn my spine every which way -- it is all fair game as long as my ass stays right there on that pillow. I think He likes all that flailing.

I work myself into a sweat trying to do that sometimes. There comes a point in nearly every session when the thoughts in my mind are something along the lines of, "Fuck this, I'm going to kill this son of a bitch with that goddamn paddle!" Thank goodness there is no speaker that broadcasts the voices in my head out into the room!

That is the dangerous edge that I walk, however. That flash of fury and anger can launch me off my pillow perch and into a full on storming, stomping exit -- which is never, ever well-received. That sort of behavior breaks ALL the rules.

So, I have to stay conscious and alert and on guard. I have to prepare, going into a session, for the likely moment of "maddness" that I know I'll encounter -- and I have to stop the progression from willing, to angry, to defiant before it rips me out of the place where I want to be. I need to work and plan to "stay put."

I'd imagine that it would be an interesting internal dialog to tap into in that moment. All I know is that I am left relieved, amazed, and emotionally drained on the other side of it -- to come up at the end of the session and know that I stayed. That's really it, all of it, showing up and staying put. I don't have to do anything else in the final analysis. Which is good, because there are plenty of times when that is all I can manage. It is particularly scary when a session starts off feeling "difficult" That sets me up knowing that I'll have to battle nearly the whole way, and that the climb will be way more steep.

I'm afraid I'm just that plain and prosaic about what it is I do. No great soaring goals or achievements to share. I stay put. And I am damned proud of that, too.

swan

The Tricky Part of Asking for Spankings

One of the most difficult hurdles that I navigated when I was still pretty new to all of this was finding the "courage" to ASK for a spanking when I needed or wanted one. In the early days, it was hard enough to come to terms with the word that described and defined who and what I was -- "masochist," nevermind the issue of finding my way to being active in implementing it by asking.

In time, I got over the "weirdness" of that, and learned to feel pretty comfortable asking.

As He and I connected and grew into our relationship, I moved from an eager and "ravenous" spankee to a place of experiencing significant cognitive dissonance with asking for spankings. Playing with Master meant that whatever I asked for was likely to be ratcheted up to levels I never envisioned. So while the "hunger" remained, I began to temper my requests out of fear and anxiety about what I knew I'd be unable to control or back away from. Asking grew harder to do, and I began to find that I only "asked" as I would become "desperate" in my needs.

Then I passed through the very difficult transition of these last couple of years. It has been a time when I literally did not know (most of the time) what my needs or wants really were. I spent many, many, many months feeling like I was living in a body to which I had no reliable connection, and with which I was completely unfamiliar. I became very unsure as I learned that I couldn't trust my physical or emotional responses. My orientation to pain, through all of that, shifted crazily up and down and all over the place. Mostly, though, I fought to stay "in the game."

As I've healed and recovered, I've begun to regain some of what seemed lost. I find myself wanting and needing the connection that He and I only achieve through spanking -- much more than I have for a long while. So, I've begun to ask again now and then.

Except it is a complicated emotional and intellectual wrangle for me. I get caught in the "slave" thing -- or what I think of as a "slave thing." Here's how it works:

In order to ask for a spanking, I have to first identify that I need a spanking. It isn't as easy as it sounds -- I still have some level of ambivalence about pain these days, and I still have to consciously pay attention to my sexual/physical responses -- they are usually very subtle. What I once experienced as enormous and earth-shattering, now, most often, feels very soft and quiet -- like lovely music playing somewhere just at the edge of perceptibility.

Then, I have to work my way through an evaluation of whether it is "OK" to ask Him for a spanking. I tend to go through all sorts of mental gyrations with this part: "What if He really doesn't want to spank me? What if, because I ask it, He ends up feeling obligated? What if He'd really rather be spanking someone who is younger, easier, less complicated, BETTER at all of this? What if -- What if -- What if?" In my mind, I wrestle with not "topping from the bottom." I know He loves me, and I worry that He might agree to spank me, even if He doesn't want to. That would stand everything about our dynamic on its head, and I don't want to do that. I'm never sure if I'll be able to TELL (if I ask) whether He wants to play with me, or is only doing it out of love and a sense of some kind of obligation. It is the dilemma of "telling Him everything," and then figuring out if He really NEEDS all of the odds and ends of my longings and fears.

But... I most often come to the point of being soooooo starved for His touch and His control, that I give it over and tell Him the truth. So, it was that I sent Him an email on Thursday morning:

I love you. I am wishing I could just be home with you. I miss you and feel like it has been too long since I was able to just let things go and settle into being with you. I need spanked and I need to be loved and I just want you.

He replied that He, too, had been longing and wishing for these things with me, but that we had both been so tired lately, that He hadn't "gone there." Perhaps, tonight, He told me, we'd be able to "go there."

I traveled through the rest of my day, anticipating. I started with a migraine in the afternoon, but treated it aggressively in order to be "ready" for our afternoon/evening together. By the time He arrived home, after giving a presentation at the University in the small town to our north, He was unfortunately, tired and strung out and barely into relating much less anything else. He had eaten a late lunch at a Chinese restaurant and was really not hungry, although, since I was "starving," I did convince Him to eat some meat and vegetable fondue with me. And we cruised through the evening, while I did that thing in my head, where I convince myself that I had no right to ask in the first place, and certainly no right to expect an affirmative response. I'd about talked myself to the point of acceptance that there would be no spanking, when He decided on a late night spanking. Of course, by that time I wasn't in a very good "submissive" head space. I'm never good at sudden shifts in emotional direction.

So, Idid get my spanking, but it was out of the range of what I'd thought I'd needed. But, then, in the middle of the night (1:30 AM or so) I was suddenly outrageously horny. Put a well spanked masochist to bed and you just have to expect that sort of thing :-).

At any rate, He has declared that there will be daily spankings for the next week -- until I am not feeling underspanked anymore. That falls into my brain and causes me to begin "interpreting" His intent. I am such a problem child! Part of me wants to believe that He really does like to spank me still, and is glad to be getting back to that way of life for us. But then, the wicked, mischievious voice begins to whisper that He is really trying to create a reality that is so aversive that I won't ask again for a really long time. Oh good grief!

This is exactly why it is much, much better for me to turn over control to Him. I think about things too much. I analyze and worry and fret and interpret too much. I get all twisted up in knots. When the control is in His hands, I can fuss all I want --it won't change anything. I'll be taken along to the place where I come to some kind of peace again... with myself, with Him, and ultimately, with us.

swan

Oh My -- Funny!

I have an old friend -- a former colleague that I taught with when I lived in Colorado. She and I stay in touch by email, but she is not really aware of my lifestyle.

My friend is a great one for sending me "fun" things as she finds them. This one came in my email just a few days ago.

It is funny enough all on its own, but it is even funnier in the context of how I live my life. Of course, my friend doesn't have a clue about the irony of this... But I do, and I just couldn't resist sharing it with all of you.

swan

Coming Back

We've begun again. To spank like we used to. Sort of.

I'm still nervous and unsure. That is improving as time goes by.


He still seems tentative and careful of my "well-being." That is not an all together bad thing. It is, however, the thing that defines our path forward.


That being said, it is more common these days for Him to use the implements that He likes, and to go for the sets of 25 or 50 strokes that were our norm back years ago.


I am finding that, even as I contemplate (in the middle of the most intense parts of these sessions) getting up and walking away, that I no longer actually do that. I still flash to anger at some points, but there is a voice that calms me so that I don't break away and flail at Him in the midst of what should be play.


It is still a long way from what we once shared. We are still feeling our way. We are still gripped by the realities of our lives. But things seem hopeful to me.


swan

Integrity

There's come to be a bit of a conflict at my friend, morningstar's place. She entered into and won a "challenge" put up on another blog by a person who, for a short time last year, served as her houseboy. The person in question "switches" -- moving from Dominant to submissive in his BDSM practice. He posted the challenge from the Dominant side of the equation, and offered to become submissive for a defined period of time (and within certain limits) to the person who won the challenge. That was the prize offered for the winning of the challenge.

When the challenge was ended and morningstar won, she began to make plans to collect her prize. That's when things got "dicey." It seems that the terms of the challenge "pay off" were to be the subject of negotiation and manipulation, until she finally put the whole question about what to do to the readers of her blog. I stated that I'd observed the dynamic with this "houseboy" last year and so was not surprised when he, in his dominant persona, refused to play the submissive part "as it was written." I called it a circumstance where the integrity that was being (and had been) displayed was marginal. That's the way I feel about it. It could be attributed to a difference in the way Dominant and submissive personalities approach the world -- perhaps Dominants become accustomed to changing the rules whenever it suits them, but any submissive worth the name understands that keeping your word is essential in a power dynamic.

It seems that there is real angst over words I wrote about "integrity" in response to the whole business. The individual in question took exception to my view of things in this comment, writing:

stay away from my integrity you have no knowledge of it.

Well, fair enough I suppose. I don't have any knowledge except what I have acquired by reading the ups and downs of this volatile relationship for many months now.

It reminds me of an interraction that T had, years ago, with my then husband. He initiated a bit of SM play that was predicated on an "exchange." The terms were that if she would eat a dill pickle, he would be her "plaything" for a session. T HATES and DESPISES pickles, and he knew it. They bantered back and forth for a time, but finally the deal was struck. She kept her end of the bargain... and not without some real struggle. He, on the other hand, called a halt to the promised session almost as soon as it started -- declaring that he just couldn't do it. Sorry!

Maybe that sort of on again off again decision making works for a "Dominant" who can simply choose to be arbitrary if they want to, but it is deadly when a submissive engages in that nonsense. You can't give up power and then yank it back. It isn't appropriate, honest, fair -- it lacks integrity. AND it is my belief that a submissive who does not act with integrity undermines the entire basis for the relationship.

The submissive has very little to offer, when it comes down to it. We give our word. We accept the dynamic. Then it is about keeping the promise, no matter what vagaries or unexpected circumstances ensue. To do less is to refuse to actually give over the power. It is tantamount to a statement that one will submit just exactly as and how we decide to. It is the essence of "topping from the bottom." It is not submission and it is not part of a legitimate power exchange.

That's how I see it.

swan

He's from our Town...

Just in case anyone was wondering about how "Medieval" the thinking is here in "our" town... The political flap caused this week over the hateful nonsense spewed into a crowd to "warm them up" for a John McCain campaign appearance came from one of the best known, best "loved" radio personalities here in Cincinnati. That's right people -- this guy (Bill Cunningham) is from our town.

ARRGH!

That is precisely why, we tend to stay "hidden" and avoid a whole lot of public contact. This kind of nasty, reactionary, thinking is pervasive here in southwest Ohio. Talk about living in the political, social wastelands...

swan

Massage

Sleep has become a major focus in these last few weeks.

Since the death of His mother, He has had terrible trouble sleeping through the night. He falls asleep reasonably easily, but then He often comes awake between 2:45 and 3:30 AM -- and can't get back to sleep.


It is not an uncommon response to grief. Sleep disturbances are very much part of the process of working through the shock and loss of a death. Everything I read indicates that sleep disturbances are very much part of the early days and months of the grieving journey.

We've gone to a whole host of "remedies" in an attempt to alleviate the problem. Our evening teapot is now holding Celestial Season's "Sleepytime" tea. He's been taking a dietary supplement, 5-HTP, which theoretically goes to this problem. There's also a product called "Calms Forte," that we're also making sure that He is getting.


Still, the problem has remained. T, concerned about the possible consequences of the continued sleep deprivation, called the doctor; who prescribed an anti-anxiety medication. He balked at taking it after He read about the array of side-effects.



So, along with all the other efforts to induce sleepiness, we've begun a new bedtime routine of giving Him an extensive, full-body massage. Each night, as bedtime approaches, I pull the massage table out, drape it with a sheet, get out my oils and ointments, put on the quiet music, and spend a half hour or 45 minutes rubbing and kneading those tired, tense muscles in His back, legs, feet, arms and hands. He moans and sighs and, as I work, He moves from wired up to settled, relaxed, even "zoned out."



By the time, I'm done, He's ready to sleep, and most often, He sleeps through the night quite peacefully. It is a "service" that I am delighted to give, but there is another interesting side effect to this new routine... I find that, as I touch and rub and tend to His physical needs, I relax too. By the time I have Him ready to get to bed, I am quieted, calmed, settled and ready to sleep myself. The connection that I make, through the intense touching that the massage entails, brings me into some kind of synchronous place with Him, so that my sleep and His almost merge.



It is an almost magical kind of intimacy that has come as a gift to us both through these difficult and stressful days. I imagine that, as the days and months pass, the NEED for that bedtime massage will diminish, but I doubt that we will ever completely give it up. It has become a rich and fertile ground for us to connect.



swan