Back to Common Ground

In the very beginning, Master and I felt sure that ours was a love that was "meant to be." We felt so entirely "well matched," that it was hard to imagine that we hadn't been linked with one another through all time. Those were heady feelings and blissful days. Lately, we've struggled more -- with our individual issues, and with one another.


It isn't that we aren't still incredibly, deeply, sometimes rapturously in love -- we are. It is just that we've not always connected at the same easy level we once did. Things have become more difficult and more complicated; and with all the issues we face between us, it is sometimes just easier to wander off into a safe cocoon and not try to hash it all out with one another. I know that I pull into myself, and I think that His response to that is to simply not push it. Probably, He just feels worn out trying to sort it all out with me sometimes.


So, when we do connect; when we do make it all magical, it is pretty amazingly wonderful. Saturday was like that...


I'd been ill on Friday, unable to go to school -- heck, almost unable to lift my head off the pillow: weak and wobbly and feverish and nauseated on top of it. I slept most of the day, and He spent His time feeling generally crummy and brooding all alone.


I was feeling better by the time Saturday morning rolled around, and He was interested in playing, but tentative. Partly, I imagine that was concern for my health, but largely, it was grounded in my recent whining about how I don't always like being spanked, and don't get much out of it. BDSM is complicated when you actually care about the person on the other end of the power-exchange!


He asked if it would be better if we just made love and He didn't spank me... I hate that idea -- it makes me sad and scared. I told Him -- "no -- don't stop spanking me." And so we began. He was very tentative at first; almost gentle. Our session started with some hand-spanking and some knife play and I could feel myself settling into a good head space. I heard Him breathe into my ear the words, "I want you so much!" It was as if a door opened in my mind and my spirit soared. To be wanted is much different than to be loved. Hearing that He wanted me worked to banish from my mind all the lovely, young, nubile, smiling spanking models. I was left with a rare and joyful sense of belonging and being in the right place.

Before He'd gone very far, before things had gotten horribly intense, He began to penetrate me digitally as I lay face down over my customary pillow. It took me by surprise and I gasped -- it doesn't happen very often that our sessions include play that is "sensual" or "sexual." As it went on, I became increasingly excited and just happy. I grunted and groaned and roared in a most un-ladylike fashion as my pleasure mounted.

When He'd had enough of teasing and pleasing me, He went right on with the SM play, and I was right there -- even achieving orgasm under the cane. We finished making love, rejoicing in our shared sexual satisfactions. And then, we simply snuggled together, enjoying the softness and warmth and connection that settled in between us.

It was very, very good to find our way back to the place that we share again.

swan

Medical Stuff

If you are a long-time, faithful follower of the stories of our clan, you may remember when Master got His new knee. We were, at that time, apprehensive but optimistic that the successful completion of that surgery, and the subsequent rehabilitation would make for a huge improvement in His quality of life. It hasn't quite worked out that way. The new knee is some better than the crummy knee that it replaced, but it is nowhere near as good as a healthy real knee would be, and there remains the other knee which was even worse to begin with and still needs to be replaced someday.


He has never, in spite of aggressive work to rehabilitate, ever been able to resume the kind of walking program that we were engaged in prior to His surgery. That has contributed to a continual, and steady battle with weight gain. Even though we rigorously control for sugars, carbohydrates, fats, and sodium, He has consistently lost that battle.


In the last year, He's been given additional medical diagnoses including severe spinal stenosis, meuralgia parasthenia (a neuropathy that creates pain and burning in His thigh), and elevated liver enzymes that we believe are related to the statin drugs that He is given to control hyperlipidemia. On top of that, His once very well controlled diabetes has become more volatile and harder to manage. Recent blood work indicates increased levels of uric acid in His system, which puts Him at risk for developing gout.

We are simply feeling beleaguered and bewildered in the face of this array of medical hurdles. Master, in particular, is frightened, and angry, and very much hurt at this turn of events. To have worked so hard to have it all turn out badly anyway is a huge disappointment (at the very least).

He is at this point, considering bariatric surgery in the hope that it might prove the solution to the weight control dilemma -- and that solving that issue might eliminate, or at least radically improve a whole host of other medical issues. He will consult with a surgeon this week, and make some decision. If it gets quiet here, you will know that it is because we are simply "up to our necks in alligators."

swan

Coyote Wisdom

This is a "book review" of sorts.

Master's daughter gave me a copy of "The Daily Coyote" for Christmas. The book, by Shreve Stockton, is the outgrowth of her blog of the same name, which chronicles her life in Wyoming with an orphaned coyote puppy named Charlie.

My initial interest in The Daily Coyote came about because I shared about 17 years with a family "dog" who was more coyote than anything else. Smoky was a poor, tiny, wet, bedraggled looking baby when I found her in the parking lot of the grocery store on a stomy February night. I had no idea that she might be wild, and really believed that she might have gotten out of someone's car without them noticing. I assumed someone would be looking for her, and we searched diligently for her owners. It took us awhile to understand that it was likely that she'd been abandoned by her coyote mother. Our Smoky was not entirely coyote. Our best guess was that she was at least part German Shepherd and/or Collie, but the wild part was clear very early and throughout her life. She was an absolutely loyal and delightful family member.

That background explains why I became interested in The Daily Coyote. I hadn't actually thought about the book, but it was, in the event, a perfect gift.

I don't get a lot of time to read. I usually read in little snippets of time, most often in the bathroom. In spite of that, I've devoured this book and found it to be amazingly insightful about power and freedom and relationship. I'm imagining that the author never anticipated that anyone would read her words in exactly the light that I have, but it strikes chords in me on many levels. Check it out:

About her thirst for adventure and experience, Stockton writes: "Great unknowns were out there to be seen, felt, experienced; this is what life meant, this was what life was for."

That feels like my own personal philosophy on life -- at least when I'm feeling strong and centered and "in my right mind." I know that my willingness to step off into the "unknown" has carried me through trouble and uncertainty and into great joy and fulfillment. When I'm unwilling to simply go into life with that openess, I become stuck, frustrated, and stymied. Reading this, I was reminded of what Helen Keller said, "Life is either a great adventure, or it is nothing."

About people's reactions to Charlie: "The most startling part was being witness to people's reaction to Charlie, or lack thereof. Mike and I stopped at the A&W for milkshakes, and when the girl brought them out to the truck, she looked at mike and then across the length of the truck to me, offering small talk as she handed us our shakes, oblivious to the coyote between us. Even though Charlie sat on the seat between us with his ears perked high, she simply didn't register him."

Wow! There it is again -- that thing that we do so often as a poly family: hiding in plain sight. There was a time, when we were newer to this, that we often felt a bit self-concious when we were all out together in public. To us, it seemed that we had "ALTERNATIVE" or "WEIRD" or "KINKY" emblazoned all over us in bright neon letters. The reality, as we have come to understand, is that most people see what they expect to see. If they have no concept of something, like polyamory for example, then they simply do not "register" it.

Struggling to understand the changing dynamics with Charlie as he grows older, she writes: "I had always considered Charlie and me more of a team than as having a relationship based on rank. In fact, I had made it a point not to own him, and to coexist without ever being the boss of him."

Isn't that sort of typical of our cultural "values" these days. We tend to enter into intimate relationships with a belief that "equality" is appropriate, necessary, even desirable. In spite of the simple reality that the notion of "equality" in relationships is purely illusory, people persist in believing in it and trying to implement it. If we tell ourselves and one another the truth, we all know that relationships are permeated with power dynamics. In the home, but also in our more public encounters, nearly every interaction has elements of power associated with it. We spend our lives, from the time we are very small, jockeying for position and advantage in our dealings with others. However we might imagine our relatedness, it is a fact that we are continually shifting from the position of boss to that of "bossed." It is unavoidable. How much better if we know that and exercise that reality with deliberate intent and consciousness?

After reading the work of Cesar Millan: "Canines are happy to be followers' there is less mental stress involved, and order brings them a sense of peace. However, if they sense leadership is faltering, they will take it upon themselves to become the dominant figure to fill the void. In their mind, someone must be the boss or chaos is imminent."

I am not into "puppy" play, and I've never believed that humans in BDSM relationships are like dogs, but substitute "submissives" or "slaves" for the opening word, "canines" in this passage, and you have a truism about those of us who live in power-based relationships. We are happiest and most comfortable when there is a competent leader in charge, making for order in our worlds. When the limits are clear and the hand on the tiller is steady and sure, we are usually calm and easy and secure. When we sense that the control is wavering or uncertain or unsteady, we, well some of us (me included), are tempted, or even compelled to try and step into that void. It isn't comfortable and we're unhappy doing it, but that rudderless feeling scares the heck out of us.

As she learns from the coyote, she develops insights about herself: "I didn't know I was so coyote. But it was part of me from the very beginning. The loner, running for myself and by myself ... excruciatingly sensitive, with difficulty trusting until after thorough investigation and even then, reserving absolute trust ... at times, deferring to those around me out of sef-protection but not necessarily respect. Happy to sit and observe; a little pushy when I wanted soething. Desiring, most of all, to bring smiles to those around me ... and with that, power."

It isn't the description of the typical submissive personality that I've read in a thousand places over the years, but it fits with my reality. If I have to be "on my own," I'm going to be pulled in, reserved, stand-offish, and hugely self-defended. I can play the game of offering respect without actually feeling respect, and I'll do that if I think the situation warrants it. I don't have an urge for the limelight, and I'm happiest when others are happy. If I can't get what I want and need from those around me, I'm likely to keep pretty much to myself. I'll pull my power close and keep it available only for me if I don't have reason to believe it is safe to share it.

Finally coming to an understanding of the power dynamic between herself and Charlie, she seeks advice from a wise aunt, experienced with canines, who advises: "The task for both of you, is that you each need to surrender. Chalie needs to get to the point where he can surrender to you, because he trusts you, and you need to surrender in a differnet way, to the reality that life in not always perfect, not for anyone or anything, and you have to allow that part of the process, not only for yourself, but for those around you."

That is likely, the purest description of the path we travel with our partners as we seek to create good, healthy, fulfilling power dynamics -- mutual surrender to the very essence of our place in the world. It is an inextricable connection: the One who knows and understands, who has the vision of what life is and what it can be becomes the focal point and the available repository for the trust of which they are worthy. When we each find that place, that balance, then the power that we hold between us is unleashed to create the lives we dream as possible.

It is an odd place to find insight into what it is that we do, but I think that "The Daily Coyote" is a must read for those of us who live this life. There is great wisdom to be found inside of an intriguing story, and the lovely photography is an added bonus.

swan

Evil, Nasty, Predatory Monster

Late last week, a post showed up on one of the listserves that I still participate in. I don't really know anything about the person who wrote it. I believe the woman is not a frequent poster, but then, neither am I. What she wrote, however shocked me.

The short version of the story is that she and her "Master" are in a primarily long distance relationship that entails occasional face-to-face contact. When the relationship began, some years ago, the Master required her to be tested for STDs, and she learned as a result that she has genital herpes. The relationship went forward with the stipulation that she would take ant-viral medications, and they would practice safe sex. The "Master" volunteered to pay for all the medications and required medical appointments. She reported that she became frustrated at the infrequency of sexual contact and so stopped taking the medications and didn't tell Him. She had sexual relations with Him without advising Him of the discontinued medication regimen. When He confronted her about the situation, and she admitted to what she had done, He banished her from His home and His bed... What, she wondered, could she do to re-establish trust and stop "testing" Him?

The list kind of just sat there for a very long day after that little piece appeared. Silence was thunderous. I watched to see what response there would be, until I just couldn't stand it anymore. Then I unloaded. It is my opinion that such deliberate deceit, such a lack of integrity, such willingness to risk the well-being of a partner has no place at all in any relationship, and certainly is inappropriate within the context of a power-based relationship. As far as I'm concerned, this ding-a-ling ought to be facing legal charges. There's no reason at all to go easy on this kind of sleazy and irresponsible behavior. We ought to, as a community, be straightforward in calling this sort of predatory nonsense exactly what it is.

I wonder if the silence, the failure to step up and say that this was not "OK," was about the fact that it was the Dominant partner who was victimized? We have a culture in the lifestyle that causes us to lean toward the belief that it is the submissive who is vulnerable to abuse by scene predators. We are much slower to see, understand, and react to the ways in which the top part of the power equation can be victimized and harmed by unethical and unscrupulous bottoms.

It is entirely reasonable to withhold judgement of our various and divergent kinks. It is not at all reasonable to withhold our sanction when someone behaves in a deliberately destructive fashion within a lifestyle relationship.

swan

Somedays I just don't like it much

Seven years ago, when we were still living 1200 miles apart and seeing each other maybe three or four times a year, it was the only thing I could think of and the only thing I wanted: to be here, with Him, spanking... My dreams and hopes were enough to keep me in a continual state of anticipation and arousal. When we finally did get together, when the moving was done, it was heaven, and I was sure we'd go on forever spanking happily into our old age.





Castles in the sky...





This weekend, when the reality was right there, it was the hardest thing I could think of to do -- just staying put, just getting through it, just remembering to behave as I know is expected. When it was over with, when we'd made love, when He'd achieved His release, I was happy for Him, but hurt and unsatisfied and sad and less than thrilled with the whole business. I wandered around all day Saturday, just aching and feeling sorry for myself.





I've got a serious case of the "poor me's" going on:

• Poor me, I can't make anyone (especially Him) understand how really painful it is to get spanked.
• Poor me, I behave and stay put and fuck nicely when it is all over, and no one (One) really cares.
• Poor me, I never (well hardly ever) get to have any sexual gratification of my own, and most of the time, He's disappointed with me for not "getting off" on our sessions.

Poor me Poor me Poor me -- poor poor pitiful me.





Oh good grief!


I've done this bit before.


The urge never goes away.


The sense of gratification is way more erratic, but it does come around now and again.


I just need to get myself out of pity party mode, and calm down. It is the nature of being female in the circumstances that I find myself -- the responsiveness is fragile and fleeting and not altogether reliable. No one can do anything about that, and being a miserable grump about it does not make the rest of life much fun either.





There. Now I've whined. Perhaps we can get on with it for a bit again.





swan

Starting the Year Off

We celebrated the coming of the new year with a nice dinner... and a nice Merlot... and some nice champagne...

I wasn't all that prudent in my celebrating, I guess. Seems I had more than just a little alcohol. Not something that I do very often. I woke up this morning feeling pretty dreadful -- stomach queasy, miserable headache. It was that sort of hangover that leaves me hiding from the daylight, pulling the covers over my head to shelter from the light and noise of the coming day. Oh yeah! Happy fucking new year!

He, of course, woke up ready to spank in the new year... Groan...

Every cell in my body was wishing I could just curl into a ball and go back to sleep, but He was happy and jolly, and I was loathe to spoil His mood.

I did tell Him about my little "problem," (it is how safe words work here... there is the requirement that I tell Him about circumstances that affect my health and well-being) but then went and fetched my pillow and, very gingerly, got myself into position. It was almost a relief to get face down with my eyes buried into the pillow -- where I could just try and stay still and breathe.

"I love you, Sir... I love you, Sir... I love you, Sir..." very softly, along with my breathing -- my trusty spanking mantra.

I think He was gentler with me than He might have been otherwise -- not altogether easy, but not as harsh as He might have been. It was tough, but not horrible, and by the time it was done, I almost think I felt a bit better. Funny how endorphins can work.

We finished up, made love, and were off to our day. Not a bad start to our new year.

swan

Hippy New Year to ALL!

2009.....who would have thought we would still be around after 2001... Space Odyssey, anyone... Hal?....Bueller?

We did our normal Heron Clan New Year's Eve at home. Steak, King Crab legs, baked potatoes, green beans and asparagus wrapped in Prosciutto, Merlot and Champagne. Earlier today, we did shrimp cocktail and smoked salmon spread as appetizers.

Watched "Gattica" & "Dr. Zhivago" on the tube. Got the champagne poured in time to wish each other and Dick Clark a very happy one.

Normally we are not so "up" when the ball drops. Usually, we have to wake each other up to smooch and say "Happy New Year!" before we fall back to sleep....yes, we are a wild and crazy clan!

It is almost 2am... I launched Tom and Swan back to their side of the condos and couldn't go to sleep without wishing you and yours a most Wonderful 2009!

Pranzer is asleep under the Christmas Tree... and I am sure that Callie is asleep at Swan's feet.

Tomorrow is dinner and football, here, with Tom's Dad. Tom's youngest goes to University of Cincinnati and they are Orange Bowl bound. Cross your crossables....we wants them to win... and to win BIG!!!!

Happy Happy, everyone! Smooch your peeps. Squoze them while you are at it!

T