The Magic Spot

It is easy, I think, for those who look in from the outside at what it is that we do to wonder whether there is something inherently unfair, nasty, maybe even abusive in the defined inequity of our relationship. The question implied or spoken outright comes, now and again, in different guises and with different tones from so many voices -- respectful and curious and concerned and occasionally mean-spirited. It comes down to the query as to whether Master somehow pays adequate, appropriate, sufficient (pick the word that fits) attention to my needs and wants.

It is a difficult question to answer as posed, because it is founded on assumptions that begin in a set of norms that are radically different than those from which we work. Still, I am only human, and I DO have wants. I want, sometimes, to have things come together in that kind of magical, synergistic wonderment that makes everything seem fabulous from start to finish.

The problem has not been a lack of intent or desire to have that happen on Master's part. I believe that He would have me soaring to screaming orgasms everyday, and rejoice in the event. The issue has been me and the state of my sexual responsiveness in these last months. I simply have not found the easy pathways to arousal or release that I once took for granted. He quite often asks me what would be "good for me," and I have been at a loss to answer that question. The physical/emotional sense of being aroused and sexually "ready" seems as fleeting and unpredictable to me as the appearance of some rare and shy wild creature. And so the two of us have found ourselves in a state of mutual bafflement and frustration. When things go badly, as they did last week, it gets even harder because, although we both know that there is no blame, it still feels "heavy" between us. Too, each time we smack into one of those disasters, the next few encounters become laden with anxiety and a tentativeness that don't increase our chances for "success" however one might choose to define it.

But we are sturdy, determined, and perhaps more than a little crazy. We are also wildly in love with one another. So, once again, this morning, we climbed on the same horse that threw us so badly last weekend. Actually, we tried the "ride" yesterday morning, and well, it was far from spectacular, but it wasn't horrible either.

I really do try not to come to these things with expectations. Expectations, when one is slave, are really an enormous trap. The odds are that believing that you are entitled to some particular outcome will result in disappointment (at a minimum), and most likely get you slapped down quite soundly.

So the morning began, as ours often do, with the lead up moves to a spanking and some love making. He usually pulls me in quite closely, and holds me tightly and begins to stroke my back and ass as He gets into His own headspace. That can often go on for awhile. This morning, He asked me what might be good for me, and I told Him I did not know. We talked some about some odd and disjointed dream sequences that I'd had the night before, and things continued to move along without much deviation from our usual routine. I was pretty much in my head; doing my usual self-talk about being His and needing to "be good," and clearing away the chatter that sometimes can get in my way during a session -- the sort of pre-scene stuff that I have come to think of as "housekeeping."

Then, quite by accident and unexpectedly, He hit THE SPOT. Right at the base of my spine in the small of my back... a place that feels round and maybe two inches in diameter and incredibly sensuous and sensitive and awake. In someways, it tickles to be stroked there, but the sensations are far more intense than tickles. I'm not sure I've known about it before this morning. But we both know about it now. In very short order, as he rubbed and stroked me there, He had me purring, moaning, and squirming -- and ready to go. Ready for just about anything. Miracle of miracles!

I stayed up against His chest and in His hands as He strapped me, and the fire built higher. He asked me if I was ready for the paddle, and I was so confused I didn't exactly know what to tell Him. It wasn't that I didn't want the paddle. What I didn't want was to be separated from Him. I didn't want space between us. I was desparate for the contact -- for His touch. Eventually, I managed to make that clear and He assured me that I'd be right there with Him no matter what. And, so I asked for Him to paddle me and He did and I rode right through it, still hot and still ready and still sure and secure. I was beginning to feel both desperate to fuck and exultant about the scene itself as He switched to the cane. Flying. Clinging to Him. Roaring through the pain. Finding the path again.

He left me breathless, but I managed the customary and required "thank you for my spanking, Sir." That usually ends the session part and leads us to lovemaking, but He got me for another few strokes with the Delrin cane. Oh well. Whatever He wanted, I didn't care as long as He was happy with me and would let me make love with Him. And that He did, and it was glorious and boisterous and wild and awesome and -- oh... Today was a very good day!

I am not easy. Far more complicated than I was four or five years ago. Like a cantankerous old diesel engine, I take some coaxing and warming up before I run smoothly and well these days. The adjustments that have been forced upon us by our assorted transitions into "maturity" have not been easy or particularly graceful, but we are learning. There has been so much of this that has been trial and error. There are no road maps or how-to manuals that we have found -- precious little in the way of good, reliable information about how to navigate the waters of hot, kinky, eroticism into these middle passages. Maybe someday, someone traveling these same roads will find the words we are leaving behind and find that their path is a bit easier because we've come this way. That would be a very good thing.

swan

Moving to Change Your Life

Just a bit ago, I was involved here in a sort of "conversation" with a commenter who was hoping that I might offer some advice or encouragement about the decision of moving to be with a partner in this lifestyle... The conversation was not all that clear and I'm not sure that the answers that I gave were very satisfactory. In the end, what I think might have been the root question: "what did you have to do to get to the point of making the move?" has stuck in my mind.



So, since I have done this and (at least by my own lights made a pretty good success of it), let me see if I can put some useful words around this.



To begin with, it probably should go without saying that everyone is different with different needs and desires and goals and requirements for this kind of decision making. I understand that, and I am not trying to be at all prescriptive here. I do, however, think that there may be some "scaffolding" that could be put around the thinking one might do in preparation for this kind of decision point thta might be both helpful and somewhat portable from situation to situation. That's what I'd like to outline here.



Three areas I'm going to address: time perception, resource availability, and intensity of connectivity.



Time Perception:

In making a major, life-changing decision like a move across the country to enter an alternative lifestyle relationship, there are two "time" anchored perceptions that impact the way we contemplate the process. There is "history" and there is "future." All of us come to the decision point with personal histories, and most of us have hopes for the future. These two time "spaces" and how we think about them have an enormous influence on the way we consider a move that changes our present reality.

I think it is important to understand that neither the past nor the future are "real" in the sense that they do not actually exist as does the present moment. Personal history shapes each of us. It instructs and informs and forms the path which we see whenever we look back to where we come from. Our personal history is the story about who we have been and where we come from. It is the collection of memories and keepsakes that are stored in our memory, and without it, we would have no present in which to stand. And it is not real.

Too, the future is a projection. Future time exists as a "potential," or more correctly a collection of potentials. This is the classic rhetorical "what if." One of the things that makes projecting into the future so difficult is that we cannot reliably predict what may come to pass in that "time space" because, like the past, it isn't real. It is imaginary. It simply does not exist as a reality. We will, should we continue living, move forward into a time which is beyond what we can perceive of as present, but when we arrive there, it will be our present.

As we contemplate making a major life changing move, investing large amounts of energy in preserving the past, or protecting the future can put us into a state of paralysis. Moves necessitate leaving much of the past behind, and they plunge us into situations where the future becomes increasingly difficult to predict. If we acknowledge that it is only the present that actually exists, it becomes much easier to pack up a few treasured mementos, make a reasonable plan for a bit of future security, and then strike off boldly into the life that is standing right in front of us.

Resource Availability:
Leaving a place of familiarity and comfort and heading off to someplace and someone new to begin a whole new life is an awesome undertaking. It is best to understand exactly what reserves and resources are at your disposal when you set out on such a journey. Far too many people leap off into the void on the strength of a wish or a dream, and without adequate provisions for the trip. This is simply foolishness.

Not all resources are financial, although it is helpful to have some reasonable way of supporting oneself, or at least an understanding of how that necessity is going to get taken care of. If there is going to be a need to acquire employment in the new location, what is that going to involve and how difficult will that process be? Will there be some lag time in securing an income? How, exactly are the necessities of daily living going to be handled? Life becomes very grim very quickly when there's no place to live and nothing to eat and no decent medical care. Moving can be an expensive undertaking.

If the financial end of things seems clear, then it is prudent to contemplate what other resources are available to you as you make a transition to another life. Relocating can be stressful in the short term, but the stresses of learning to live comfortably in a new place can go on way past the point where the moving truck departs. It takes time to become comfortable; to understand how to find the grocery and the post office and the veterinarian and the pharmacist; to comprehend the way the weather moves through an area; to know the local "slang." So, it is good to understand how flexible you are, how adventurous, how resilient, how good-humored, how sturdy, how trusting. All of these are resources that will be called upon to get you through the first weeks and months in a new place. There are other resources as well -- do you have friends where you are going? Will you have outside interests or hobbies that you can attach to? How will you make contacts within a new community? Evaluate the resources that you have at your disposal in order to understand what it is that you carry with you into your new life.

Intensity of Connectivity:
This last seems obvious to me, but I am often surprised at how often people jump to relocate to relationships where there is very little to base the connection on. A shared fetish, or a congruence of fantasies is hardly sufficient to stand one's whole life on its head. Our lives are not uni-dimensional, and when we contemplate creating a life with a partner who will form a major focus of our world, there ought to be some significant connection beyond the "slap and tickle" of it all. This is a very difficult and dangerous area of this process because the drive toward sexual coupling is extremely compelling in the human animal, and no matter what anyone tells you, what we do is sexy at very deep levels. New relationship energy is a very tricky beastie. So, it is critical to watch and pay attention to how the relationship develops. Is there any foundation beyond the "heat" of it all? What do partners know about one another? Have they woven a rich tapestry of connection between them?

I realize there are no answers here. I'm no guru. I only know I made the transition once and it was and has been good. I'm not sure I analyzed all of this so critically or clinically. Perhaps I should have. I had no one to give me any direction. I don't think, with all of this in the balance, I'd have chosen differently, but that's just me...

swan

Struggling to Give this one up

Everytime I think I have this business of being His "handled," I run smack into some other spot that puts me face to face with just how far I am from really releasing the control completely. Some little thing will come up where I still have a death grip on some part of life that feels like it ought to be MINE, and I get my back up in a heartbeat.

Like for instance...

Dreams and fantasies. If I've got hold of some fantasy, then (please note my pouty face) it is MY fantasy/dream, and I do not appreciate having it messed with -- thank you very much!

Which is exactly where things got interesting last weekend.

I woke up from a dream that felt sexy. I was turned on and feeling positive and hopeful about what we might be able to do with that in terms of playing together if we could tag onto those feelings. One of the things that I struggle with in terms of our SM is that it is (from my perspective) usually intense right from the start. I almost always feel as if I am scrambling to keep up and hold on. There is never anytime for me to "catch" up with it and get the benefit of the endorphins that might help me ride the wave. And there is very little that feels "sexy" within that context, so there is the emotional/intellectual "pleasure" of knowing that I'm submitting (and hopefully pleasing Him), but generally no physical or erotic pleasure.

So, as He woke up, I shared my dream with Him. It wasn't really complicated. I'd been dreaming of some small jaw-style hair clips being put onto my nipples and labia, and then as the pain of that built and built, I'd "slipped" into a spanking that was way more erotic than what I usually experience. It was, for me, a gateway fantasy -- an imagined pathway from small and building bits of pain up toward the more difficult levels where we usually play. Simple, I thought.

Right away, as soon as I'd spoken the words, He took off with it. First it was, that He would put the clips on me and then send me out to cut switches. Then He decided to paddle me first before starting in with the clips, and then again once they were on -- using one of the more wicked paddles in the arsenal.

It just made me angry. No slow entry. No gateway. Intensity right from the start. By the time we finally got to the clips, I was OVER IT. It wasn't going to be MY dream. It was His. He'd taken what I'd given Him and run off with it. AND that wasn't the end of it either. The clips would need to be removed by whipping them off...

I was hysterically frightened and furiously angry. At some point, I was full on in flight mode, slammed up against the far wall, defiantly refusing to have anything to do with it all. I did eventually get back into position and back in line, but there was no joy and nothing sexy left in the whole business. It was misery and torment and anguish and panic.

It has taken me most of the week to work it out. To understand that I don't get to have MY fantasies; don't get to expect to have some sort of soft, easy, lead in to sessions. It has been a week where I've whirled through the seemingly mundane stuff of my "normal" life while I chewed on what felt like the complete disaster of that encounter.

My initial reaction, after it was all over with, was that I just need to stop sharing my dreams and my fantasies. After all, it never goes well and I just end up disappointed and frustrated. I knew, even as I thought that thought, that it was falacious, but I needed to calm down and consider before I could get hold of the understanding that I don't have the RIGHT to expect that my dreams or fantasies will be played out as I like them just because I might want it that way. This, too, is His and not mine.

That is not easy to accept. I want to, sometimes, be helped into this; to be gentled along just a little. It feels grim and dismal to face a lifetime of sessions which will be mismatched to my "speed," and therefore almost always terribly difficult and distressing. Part of me wishes there were some option, some alternative, some fall back position.

And then I remember myself. Try to find the quiet place. Try to settle down and remember that it won't always end in disaster. Try to remind myself that there are the times when I do fly. And try to stay clear that it doesn't matter because it is all up to Him.

swan

The Voice of God

Yesterday I was off to my state's capital. I have worked for the last 32 years as an advocate for the civil rights of marginalized populations, particularly those with disabilities. I was accompanied by a colleague on my staff who is someone who has a disability. We were going to testify before a legislative committee opposing a bill that would, if enacted, damage the ability of people with disabilities to live successfully in their communities. It was not one of the most major battles in the decades long quest to return people who 50 years ago we routinely incarcerated in state institutes from childhood until they died, to becoming our valued friends, neighbors, and co-workers. It was however a skirmish that would, if lost, be a setback that would have very real harmful consequences in some lives. So we were off to talk to our lawmakers about those effects.

Now I have to tell you that many people find standing at the podium before their legislators in a state house hearing room, dreadfully fearsome and anxiety provoking. I've had witnesses who were accomplished professionals who practically urinated themselves when their name was called and they walked to the podium, only to find their mouth had gone dry, and they could only recall half what they might say.

I was gong to speak but primarily I was providing context and background for the legislators to understand fully the testimony of my companion. He is a gentleman who has come to work in our field as an advocate and is someone who has cognitive disabilities. He is courageous and has testified several times before. Every time this has occurred before he has at the last minute made it to the podium with his testimony script shaking, faced the microphone, and at the last minute turned to me and whispered plaintively, "You read it." And as I read his "speech" he'd nod his head affirmatively as if to say this is my message to you.

Yesterday was different. We'd talked on the long drive there about how today he was going to testify. I'd written his testimony (he is only barely literate) but with his input and consent. The moment came. I'd arranged for us to be called together and we stood there as I spoke and then introduced him. I felt huge joy as he began to speak. He didn't follow his "script." He spoke of his truth and from his heart. He was powerful and compelling in his simple basic English and truth.

Then it happened. As he testified a voice on a loud speaker system boomed into the room. There was someone somewhere in the state house setting up a loud speaker system and as they tested it they must have hit the wrong switch and their test message was broadcast in our hearing room. It said very loudly "One, two, three testing......THIS IS THE VOICE OF GOD!"
My colleague stopped mid-syllable turning his eyes to heaven. He knew his audience were people of awesome power, but he had not expected God to be there. I whispered to him it was just a speaker system and someone making it work. He said, "No it's not. It's God!" He looked at the Charmian of the Committee and said "should I go on?" He said, "yes" so he continued but with a much more reverent voice. I know he believes that not only did we address this minor committee but that too God had been there. I felt like I was trapped in a scene from Forrest Gump.

My great joy is that he spoke.........himself. And I bet from now on he always will speak. What the heck! Once you've testified before God who can possibly intimidate you in future audiences?

Beyond that I was impressed, that I am old. I sat there in that hearing room wondering how many dozens of hearings I've attended over the years and the lady behind me introduced herself. She is the new legislative liaison for the state department our advocacy relates to. We will likely collaborate and at times cross swords. She is clearly in her early forties. She reminded me how she knew me. As I began this career in my twenties I used to attend as a consultant the Board of a rural county's advocacy agency comprised of families advocating for their children with disabilities. Their leader had a daughter who came with her to meetings, and who sat on the sideline, doing her homework, or who used to ride her skateboard in the hallway outside the meeting room. She is now the state department's legislative liaison and recalls me as the out of town "expert" who used to attend her mom's meetings. She clearly feels that in growing to work with me professionally she has "grown up," and grown up she clearly has. I am finding that this overlap of my past and present realities is making me realize the length of time I have been at this...and it is coming to be a long time.

It was a good day on many levels. I was reminded graphically that I am old, and we spoke with God.

All the best:)

Tom

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

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TOM & SWAN!

Today is the 5th anniversary of Swan joining our family. She came to us on the treads of Toyota, hauling her entire life from Colorado to the unknown Wilds in Ohio. She has brought great love to our lives and is the sister I have longed for forever. We have found that 2 sister-hearts can raise a Dominant, whether he likes it or not!

With her presence, we are stronger and better people. And the community around us is raised up.

Tom shines when Swan is around. She cares for Him as no other, and I am ever so appreciative that she cherishes Him as I do. For this, I adore her all the more.... for loving us.

I love you both with each breath I take. Here's to the rest of our lives together.

T

About Moving forward with Intention and Integrity

I am going to try to do this without projecting too much of my own life and assumptions onto this set of questions, but there is just too much here for me to let this go without a statement that makes my position clear. The "anonymous" commenter on my last post wrote:

"You and i have only conversed just briefly in my endeavors, but your situation then, makes for very close makings of the situation that i currently set in, although i am not the "mover."What advice would you give to someone in your shoes? Especially someone who is relocating not just within the US but someone who is relocating from Canada? Also, since the situation is slightly different (the significant other in her life is not aware of the relationships outside and is completely unaware of the plans...) is there anything you could say that might make this any easier for them?I have pointed them to this blog, but would love some advice to pass along. It's been two long years for her to be with her Sir, and I... well, I KNOW how difficult a move is and how sometimes even if you are not happy, to leave comfort and have change is not easy. I personally, would like to see her commit to a date...."



Honestly, I am not at all sure who this person is, but it just doesn't matter. THIS does --



When I and WE made the decisions that we made to embark on the polyamorous nature of our relationship, we did that with the full knowledge of everyone involved. We worked really hard at making sure that everyone had all the time and support and understanding and space they needed to be able to come to that decision with awareness and openess and intent and integrity. We were as careful as we knew how to be that our process was honest and straightforward and open at every step.



Even with all of that, we struggled mightily, and there were costs and losses and hurts. The changes that we undertook were not easy and the adjustments that we made were demanding and involved every one of us in some really intense growth. Even with all of our best intentions and efforts, there was a divorce and that was not something that any of us planned on or expected when we set off on this path. I think, in retrospect that it turned out for the best, but that doesn't change the fact that it was a difficult and demanding and painful loss and transition.



When I say that I wouldn't trade a single day of this last five years, I mean that sincerely. However, I do not encourage others to follow the path I followed, and I surely do not believe that anyone ought to do what I did without making sure they understand the risks and costs that may come to be part of the path ahead. I don't regret paying the cost because I believe I gained way more than I gave up in the transition, but that doesn't mean the costs weren't there. They were.



I guess, since the "anonymous" person asked for advice, I'd say, "STOP! If there is/are significant other(s) who do not know about these relationship dynamics, then there is a huge gap in the information that needs to be conveyed before any sort of moving forward could occur with any sort of openeness and integrity. Until everyone is "in the loop," and aware of what is going on, there isn't anything that seems like "polyamory," and maybe poly isn't the goal here. Perhaps, the end result is that there is going to be one relationship ending as another begins. That happens far more often in these circumstances than OUR kind of solution does. Still, it does seem to me that it is important to know what is intended. Until that is clear, the decision to "move" can't be addressed.

I think it is easy to imagine that when I got that very clear directive to "get here this summer" that there were no antecedents to that. It simply isn't that case. We'd done the work ahead of that to make the command and the response to it make sense -- not just for He and I, but for the others around us.

This is grown up relating that we are talking about. It challenges us to handle our emotions and our attachments with maturity and responsibility and wisdom and compassion. If there are tough choices to be made, that is as it may be. But to move recklessly and without due caution and attention to the realities is foolhardy and unkind and asking for disaster.

swan

Coming up on Five

It seemed entirely sensible.

The logistics were formidable.

When, in March, the possibility of making the move to Cincinnati from Denver was something we were only just discussing five years ago, there was SO MUCH TO DO, that it seemed entirely reasonable that the move would take at least a full year to complete -- that there was no possible way that it would happen any sooner than the summer a year out from that spring (a minimum of 15 or 16 months, maybe longer). After all, there was a house to sell, and jobs to quit and new employment to be found, and family matters to be settled, and all the minor and not so minor details of packing and moving a whole house full of belongings.

I just never contemplated that that time window would seem inappropriate to Himself. After all, surely He understood the ENORMITY of the undertaking...

That was the way my mind was working five years ago, as I whirled around, still embedded in my old life, in my own ways, in a thinking pattern that was just about to change forever.

He and I had come to understand that we loved one another. He and I and T (and "He who Shall Remain Nameless") had negotiated the turbulent waters of our nascent polyamorous relating and made the decision to make our relationship permanent.

He and I had played together, and spent time together, and talked endlessly on the phone and online, and dreamed and longed for the day when we would be together full time. What we hadn't done yet, was contemplate the depth of our power exchange or where that would take us ultimately. At least, I hadn't really contemplated that part of it all yet. We just hadn't talked about it specifically.

So...

As we chatted that March evening and the conversation came around to WHEN the move was actually going to be accomplished, it seemed to me completely within the realm of sensible to suggest that I teach one more year there in Denver while we work out all the details and make preparations to move a year and some months later in the summer following. There was hardly an eyeblink before the words came back across my computer screen with a definitiveness that I had never "heard" before, but that I would come to recognize:

"Do you think we are going to live forever? Get here this summer!"

That was it. That simple command changed my life and my world forever. I never questioned, never expressed to Him how simply impossible that would be, never waivered. I just went to work, and got it done.

That's how, on a June 6th afternoon five years ago, I arrived in my new life here. It was the end of a marathon of preparations, and months of waiting and longing, and a the culmination of an awfully long drive and the feeling was giddy and breathless -- and then, there He was, coming up the sidewalk with a bouquet of roses in each arm -- one for T and one for me.

It amazes me and delights me and fills me with wonder that the years have flown by so quickly. So much has happened, and yet there is a part of me that feels as if I only just got here. I find it hard to imagine it has been so many years. I wouldn't take anything for a single day of it.

swan