Clear and Honest Communication

I’ve posted about Saying No and I’ve posted about how talking helps me out of Sub Drop, but communication is important in other ways, too. Clear, honest communication.

It starts with being clear and honest with myself. That may sound like the easy part, but really, it can often be the most challenging.  I lie to myself all the time, how about you?  I can handle that. I won’t get jealous over that. I just want everyone to be happy. I don’t know what I want. I don’t really want anything. I’m okay. Things are fine. It is hard to get past the knee-jerk reaction of everything is fine. It takes effort to look deeper, to examine my wants, needs and desires. It takes work to admit to myself that things are not the way I want. I am a writer, and sometimes, I find, that the only way to know what I’m really thinking, is to put pen to paper and start writing. And keep writing until it’s all there. Every last bit of anger, hurt, joy, love, need, desire, complaint and exultation.

Then comes the next step. Clear and honest communication with my partner/friend/lover/Dom/sub/family/whoever. Once I know what’s true for me, I have to share it with them. I have to tell them, via text, chat, email or Out Loud, what is going on in my head, heart and life. I also have to accept that they may not understand, and that they have just as many things going on in their hearts, heads and lives. I have to strive to be as clear as I can be, but also to listen openly to what they are saying back to me. Communication goes both ways.

An example.  Scene negotiation. If I am asked what I want, and I say I don’t know, that’s not helpful. If he suggests something I don’t want, and I don’t tell him so, then the scene will go bad for us both. If the negotiation goes well, but the scene starts to go badly, I have to be able to clearly and honestly communicate that, or the scene will just get worse. If a scene went badly, clear and honest communication afterward can keep it from happening again.

Another example. Poly. I often tell people who ask, that Poly is all about clear and honest communication. Communicating what the boundaries are. Communication can reduce or resolve jealousy. Communication can keep partners from drifting apart. Communication keeps people safer when going to meet someone new.

What are ways you use to achieve clear and honest communication?

Journey to Submission, Part 1

She knelt on the bearskin rug on the hearth, hands on her thighs, hair falling down around her lowered face. The fire crackled and popped, casting an orange glow over her pale skin. He stood with his hand on the mantle, watching her from behind. He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair, run his hands down her back. He needed to touch her, to take her, but he waited. Control. He had to be in control, but the sight of her there, naked and kneeling was driving him crazy.

She had come to him a year ago, a gift from his parents for his eighteenth birthday. A servant girl to entertain a prince. She had knelt to him then, but there had been fire in her eyes and a stubborn slant to her chin. The past year had been a journey for them both, full of joy, sorrow, excitement and conflict. All leading to this day, where she knelt willingly and submissively on the rug, waiting to serve him.

Had it really only been a year?

~~~

The hall grew quiet as King Samsen and Queen Sylvia rose from the table. Prince Jayceon returned from the dance floor to stand beside them. At a motion from the King, the guards swung open the doors, and two men entered, flanking a young woman, dressed in an iron collar attached to iron manacles, and a small leather skirt. The men in the crowd murmured and stared. The women eyed her critically. Jayceon bit his lip and looked between her and his parents as she was marched to the front of the room and shoved to her knees.

“Happy birthday, Jayceon.” The King announced. “Since you have not chosen a wife, yet, this one will take care of you until you do.”

Jayceon looked at his mother, she was smiling, but her lips were thin and she glared at the girl. He looked back at her and realized why. She was looking up at them all with undisguised fury. He took a step back and then laughed. The tension in the room broke with his grin.

“What’s your name?”

“Ciera.”

“Well met, Ciera. Thank you for coming to my birthday party, though you look decidedly unhappy to be here.”

She did not answer, nor did she drop her gaze.

“Perhaps you would be more comfortable waiting elsewhere?” He motioned to her guards who pulled her to her feet and led her back the way they had come.

“She’s a wild one, Jayceon.” The Kind confided. “You’ll enjoy her, I wager.”

“Samsen, she’ll bite his head off rather than serve him, what possessed you to pick such a girl?” The Queen hissed as the room filled with chatter again.

“You worry too much, Sylvia. Our boy can handle that small wisp of a thing.”

Jayceon was sure he could handle her, but wisp was not the word he would have used to describe her. She had perfectly round breasts the size of golden apples. Her belly was smooth and her hips rounded out in delicious curves. Her thighs were solid and her calves well muscled. Her arms were thin and her hands soft and slender. Her long black hair ran down to the small of her back and her skin was pale and creamy. No, not a wisp at all.

“Jayceon?”

“What? Oh? Sorry.” He realized that other people were offering him gifts now, and he tried to focus, smiling, and thanking them each in turn, but the girl filled his mind and he wanted nothing more than to rush back to his rooms to see her.

Sub Drop

I am fairly secure in what I do. I enjoy my play. I enjoy my darkness and my light. I have the highest self esteem of my entire life. As noted previously, I enjoy my marks and bruises. The thing is, though, that drop happens. To everyone.

I often get drop triggered by people expressing concern or upset. When I’m not looking, my brain twists these emotions into very negative thoughts. There must be something Wrong with me if That Person is concerned about what I have done. I am a Bad Person if they are disturbed by what I did. He is Mad at me because what I had did limited what he can do. None of these statements are true, but they stick in my head sometimes.

I come out of drop faster than I used to. I can recognize it as drop, I can remind myself that those thoughts are false. I remember the scene and how much fun it was, and how happy it made us both. I write about the scene and explore the joy of the experience. I also, whenever possible, talk to both the person involved and the person who triggered the drop. Sometimes this is the same person, but not always, and when it’s not, I also remind myself that they did not get to witness the scene and are only judging the aftermath, from their own limited point of view.

Also Chocolate. Chocolate always helps.

I seem to have more readers now. It’s about time to get comment conversations going. How do you deal with drop? What are your triggers?

It’s a Crying Shame

Some months ago, I wanted to cry and I was ashamed of that desire. Not just cry, I wanted to be Made to cry. I wanted to be pushed so hard that tears came bursting forth in and uncontrollable fury. But I was afraid. I was afraid that this was a ridiculous desire. That it was childish to want to cry for no particular reason. That wanting the release and cleansing of flowing tears was simply weakness. I was afraid that it would change things, too, with whoever made me cry. I had never gone there before and it looked terribly dark. I did not want that unknowable change in my marriage, and that was a difficult decision and a difficult discussion. My lover, more experienced than either myself or my husband, became the giver of those tears. It was the release I needed at the time, and nothing was changed or broken in the giving.

Since then, my edges and the darkness have been moved and pushed and shoved. Tears are no longer shameful to me, but they still have a specific place in my play. There is still darkness when I think of bringing them into my home. The tenderness and love between my husband and myself seems incompatible to a tearful scene.

My lover, more often than not, gets the tears through fear these days. Threats of freshly remembered intense pain or of heightening the current level of pain can drive me over the edge. (Nipple clamps of various varieties are usually present in these threats.) Tearfully begging for mercy or for the pain to stop. Sometimes he grants it, and sometimes not, driving me further into tears or into complete surrender where the tears stop and soft stillness comes.

My other partner has only brought out tears twice. Both were corporal scenes, but they had a heavy mental elements that had more to do with the tearful response. In both situations, expectations were set, and tears came when I failed to meet those expectations. The pain levels were high, but it was the mental game that was more costly.

In the first, I was given a task, an object that was not to be dropped. It fell twice and tears fell swiftly behind it, but were gone again when he gave me another chance after a few choice strikes for the drop. It was an incredibly intense scene, the tears just one more spice in the delicious flavor.

The second, was a flogging scene set to music, and the final song came on, and he said he would flog the whole song at the same tempo and strength. I soon began to falter under the heavy strikes, and tears welled up as I thought I would not make the entire song. As I fell down and stood back up several times, his strikes never missed. Tears were flowing freely as I fell the final time, turning slightly towards him, but my back still raised to accept his strikes. He stopped then, accepting my surrender and my tears. His acceptance washed away my tearful disappointment in myself, and I smiled when he said I would do better next time.

Thanks for Everything

It is that time of year, here in this part of the world, to give thanks for, well, everything. Gratitude is an incredible force in my life. I have been given the opportunity to do, be and explore so much in my life, especially over the last year and a half. I often joke about thanking certain people for “getting me into this” or pointing me down this road or showing me just how good it feels. This week, however, I am making it a point to honestly thank those people who have enabled me to live this life. There are a lot of people who helped me get this far, and who constantly encourage me to keep going. There are also people that I am grateful to, who have no idea where their support and teaching has allowed me to go. I thank them to, though more quietly and tactfully.

I am grateful to my husband for taking this journey with me. I am grateful to the one who took us to our first demonstration. I am grateful to the one who invited us to our first poly meeting. I am grateful to the one who invited us to our first dungeon and hosted my first kinky birthday celebration. I am grateful to the one who took me to my first Practice. I am grateful to the one who taught me the love of rope and the joy of suspension. I am grateful to the one who showed me how beautiful I am. I am grateful to those who welcomed us into this community. I am grateful to those who have brought love into my family. I am grateful to those who have taught me about myself. I am grateful to those who have accepted who I am. I am grateful to those who have listened and those who have offered advice. I am grateful to live in a time and a place where I can live my life however I chose.

Thank you for reading my blog.

20 Hard Limits

I was asked recently what I would not offer freely. This got me to thinking about my limits. I had not explored them seriously in quite some time. Just random comments of, “no red,” or “you know that’s a hard limit” when things came up. Back when Husband and I first entered the community, I did a lot with lists. Filled out fetish lists, filled out like/dislike/limits lists. But it had been quite a while since I seriously visited the topic, and limits do change over time. My partners have challenged my limits, poking them gently here and there, never Leaping over the line, just prodding it until they made a hole to slip through. Or, in a couple cases, waiting until I changed my mind and Asked to try something.

So I now have three lists. Current Hard Limits, acknowledging that things do change. Previously Hard Limits that have been pushed to Soft Limits, acknowledging that these are still tricky ground, and often partner specific. And a very short Soft Limits list of two things I didn’t know enough to have put on my Hard Limits list in the first place.

 

Current Hard Limits

Children

Age Play/Infantilism

Animals(yes, this includes snakes)

Furry Play

Shit

Piss

Puke

Blood (except for sex during menstruation)

Needles/Staples

Hooks/Piercings

Cutting of the skin (does not include scraping/scratching or breaking from impact play)

Medical Play (specifically enemas, sounds, catheters)

Removal of my pubic hair

Branding

Bull whips (longer than 4 feet)

Significant Facial Impact (smacking, hitting, punching, etc)

Unsafe sex

Public sex (more than two other people present)

Willfully Breaking the Law (only exception is private play in a public area where there is reasonable safety of not being caught, (i.e. sex after dark in a car or park))

Humiliation Play

 

Previously Hard Limits that have been pushed to Soft Limits

Breath play

Ball gags

Grabbing by the throat

Gentle face slapping

Uncle

Single Tails(under 4 feet)

Dragon Tails

Sex while menstruating

Anal

 

Soft Limits

Essential Flavored Oils

Diet/Food Control

Why Practice Isn’t Enough

I go to Practice every week, for the crew I’m on. We practice our craft for the weekend shows. We go to reconnect with each other, to talk and play and share together. We go to teach the newer members, as well as the guests. We go because we are always learning, always finding something new, always have room to improve.

We practice flogging against the wall, against the cross and on each other. We do electric scenes, checking the wands and trying out the toys. We practice our brand of fire play, training on all three stations. We don’t have the space for much suspension practice currently, but once in a while we get that, too.

But, for crew, practice isn’t enough. The skills are there, we learn what to do. But our weekends are full of strangers, with different reactions, different bodies, different needs, wants and desires. For us to “perfect” our craft, we need more than just our Practice night. We need to work with all sorts of different people, under the low lights and loud music. We need to deal with drunk, sober, shy and loud. What we do is very different, and very unique. It takes more than swinging a flogger or firing up a violet wand.

For me, it also takes a desire to serve and to share. I could just attend practices, and have time with them and do what I want to do. I could just be another attendee and sign up on the lists. I volunteer for crew to share the experience. To provide others the opportunity to learn and do what they might not have a chance to do otherwise. It fills a need in me to give back, to contribute to the community. Just going to Practice is no longer enough for me. I want more.

Bruises, Stripes and Kisses

I am a girl. (Shocking, I know.) What I mean is, I was raised in a world where body image is highly valued and hard to come by. Very few girls grow up loving their bodies. Very few women don’t have something they’d like to change about their appearance. So, for someone who struggles with body image, marks are a particularly interesting challenge.

For me, it has been a journey.

I’m a clumsy person, accident prone. I bruise easily and they don’t go away quickly. Thus I’ve always had a bruise or two, usually on my legs from tables, counters and chairs. But those are small and explainable, and generally hidden by pants.

In college, I discovered biting, and occasionally came home with Very large marks on my neck. I’d wear a scarf when “adults” were around (Parent’s Weekend, twice), but mostly I just giggled because it had been really fun getting the “hickey.”

Then I joined the local community.

There were rope suspensions that left tiger stripe bruises. The discovery of suspension was so wonderful to me that I treasured these marks, the represented the incredible experience I was having.

As I moved into heavier play, there came more bruising, bigger bruising, whip kisses. If I was going out in public where these bruises would be visible, I would ask my partners to not bruise me. I was ashamed of the marks. They seemed to me to show how “bad” I was. Show the world that I do “inappropriate” things.

But the longer I stayed active in the community, the more I came to truly understand there was nothing wrong with what I was doing. That it was part of me. That it was part of my being. That what I was doing was coming out of love and trust and joy. The bruises, like the rope marks, came to symbolize the relationships, the happiness, the fun and the pleasure.

There were also pictures and a photographer that teased that the bruises were marring his shots. This was the hardest part for me. He is a good friend and his words struck old chords in me. That I was doing something “bad” and “wrong” and I should be ashamed. With the help of my partners, I dragged myself back out of this hole. Now when he asks if he’ll ever get pictures of me without bruises, I just grin and tell him Nope. They are a part of me, part of who I am and what I do. Some girls get diamonds, I think my bruises are prettier.

Why do you do the things you do? Why do you do these things? ~Aldonza

Late post, sorry, busy busy life.

I was asked last night, why do I let him do certain things to me. Aside from the obvious, because I like those things, because I do not always “Like” the particular thing (Dragon’s Tails, for instance) though I like the result, I answered because it makes him Happy. The smile on his face, the joy in his eyes, the glow of happiness that radiates off of him in waves.

I will do a lot of things, endure a lot of things, try a lot of things, to give him happiness. Fortunately, I also enjoy Most of those things, or at the very least I enjoy the result of pretty much all of those things.

But Why?

Because he does the same for me. Relationships are two way streets. In all my relationships, we do things to make Each Other happy(and ourselves, of course). It isn’t me pleasing him all the time, or him doing everything to make me happy. We do things that make us both happy. It can be a cycle of: I do something that makes him happy which makes me happy which makes him happy. But it’s even better when we’re doing something that makes us both happy and then it amplifies from there.

BDSM is about having fun for me. There is the physical, the play, the bondage, the sex. But it’s the rush of Joy and Love and Passion that makes it all worthwhile in the end.

Altered States

Some people drink or do drugs to alter their states. Other people meditate or chant to alter their state. Some people do power moves or jump and shout to alter their state. Then there are those that use BDSM to alter their state.

First, though, I want to briefly talk about alcohol and BDSM, or at least SM, because that is relevant to my current experience. Big play parties that I go to, alcohol is forbidden anywhere near the play space. It dulls the senses and can lead to bad judgment and injury. But I volunteer at a club where people experiment with corporal and electric play, bottoming to the completely sober crew while often under the influence themselves. We are careful to gauge their level of intoxication, and even more careful to do no harm regardless.  But I wonder about what it takes to get drunk and then want to do a scene. Some think they need the liquid courage, I guess. Some just don’t realize the danger. And I imagine some just don’t realize how drunk they are. Personally, I can’t imagine mixing alcohol with the sensation play we do. Occasional drunk sex, sure, but SM while dulled and out of control makes me shudder.

All that aside, the altered states provided by BDSM in and of itself are amazing. I’ve talked before about surrender. Other spaces I enjoy are rope space, sub space, pain space, service space. At least that’s how I can best name them today.

1) Rope space – I’ve talked a lot about rope, described scenes and fibers and all. The space that rope creates for me is one of warmth. No matter how cold the room is, the first run of rope on my body instantly creates warmth. If there is rope tied around me, I am warm. It is a soft space, my body gives in, relaxes. The tie might be restrictive, painful, gentle, or loose, but my body molds to it, making it part of me. I have to be careful of this when I’m doing suspension. I have to pay attention because I’m learning the ties. I have to be aware of my body so that I don’t sink to far into the ropes and hurt myself. But even then, I can find my rope space and enjoy it thoroughly.

2)Sub space – People use this term a lot, to mean different things. Today, to me, it is the space of being deep in a scene, letting go of my will in favor of his. It is a quiet state for me, when my mind goes still, and I am at peace. In this state, I can still say no, I can still safe word, but only when absolutely needed. I will not resist simply because I don’t want to do something. I will do my best to do whatever he wants me to. I will take whatever he gives until I cannot take anymore. This state sometimes turns into surrender, but not always.

3)Pain space – I am a picky pain slut. But when I am getting the pain I want, enjoying the pain I’m getting, I slip right into pain space. Pain space is an intense state for me. My body is buzzing and my heart is pounding. I am gasping or screaming or moaning. I lose my sense of the word and just exist in my body, in the sensation being given to me. I can feel him even if I cannot touch him. This is the hardest state for me to come out of once I’m there. It is the one that leads to drop most often.

4)Service space – This is my D/s space, the space that I find outside of scenes. The space that makes me feel warm and fuzzy when I’m helping, being useful, doing for others, but especially doing for him. I get a little bit of this in scenes when I’m Service Topping as well. When I am giving pleasure to others, and sharing with them or teaching them.

All these states are delicious to me. Not to mention Far more appealing that drunkenness or getting high.