Henny Speaks

My Darling Henny provides her perspective on being inducted into our household...

I got my first a chance to play with Master Reaper when I went to Thunder in the Mountains in July. I had been talking to him and Creature online for at least 4 years before I got the chance to meet them. They were wonderful company in every way, not just for play. Master Reaper was good at negotiating, checking in without breaking up play, and directing me to practice saying my safewords. On top of that, we were just extra compatible for play.
I had such a good time that I arranged during the same visit to Colorado to go back and have another session with Master Reaper and visit his family. His kids are super adorable and smart, and I like the respectful way that he and Creature interact with them. Creature and I turned out to be very similar in many ways. I got to play even harder than the last session when we got away by ourselves and try some new things.

As much as I like playing harder when I can, I have to be picky about some play, because I have always had a poor memory of play and sex after it happens, unless something goes wrong, in which case, I get all trauma-o-vision. Play partners have told me what happened afterwards, and taken pictures to show me. Master Reaper took some video footage, which was new and interesting for me. I knew I sometimes said things I didn’t remember during play, but it turned out I didn’t even remember some plain old lying around conversations, either, which shocked me. Watching uninterrupted video of myself playing & talking was strange when I didn’t remember it, but it helped me connect to that compartmentalized memory. Since watching those videos of myself, I find I now have a better memory for play, which is nice.

My open door?

Sooooo, I'm the new one here. HI!  This whole thing has been a fantasical adventure for me and now im here to let you all into my own little world.  So yeah, here goes, yay for copy/paste huh?

I believe wholeheartedly in the phrase “When one door shuts another door opens.” However there is a bit of a catch to it, how can one tell if another door has opened when you're stuck on the other side of the one that had shut? To put it simply, you find the strength and courage to open it and see what the outside world can look like. To some its impossible and they continue to stare at the same wall, their minds filling in the images they want to see and they grow content, settling for never truly being happy but never having to hurt. For me it was one of the hardest decisions to make and keep a hold of, to stay steadfast. There were so many things to consider when I opened my door, “How will this affect my daughter? What kind of life is she going to live because of my decision? Am I doing whats best for her AND I? Am I doing the right thing?” Finding a compromise or even an ANSWER for all of these has been the hardest part, especially when my mind swarms me with “what if's” and “could be's”.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't cried more than a few times after opening the door, that I hadn't regretted my decision and had entertained the thought of shutting myself back up in the dark room I'd lived in for so long. It'd definitely be easier, more comfortable. But who would that be helping really? My daughter would grow up thinking that feeling trapped in a relationship is a normal thing. She wouldn't see the love and light that I want to raise her in. She'd only see that overbearing darkness looming over her mother, the fear that controlled her and the paranoia that was placed there by the deeds of the one causing all of the darkness, regardless of the flecks of light that floated around like fireflies taking their final breath. After opening my door and stepping out into the blinding outer world I've felt free yet terrified, inspired yet suffocated, I've found clarity yet have been faced with even more confusion than I could have possibly imagined.

I've been taken in and collared by a Reaper of lost souls, a collector of the damned wishing only for the salvation of themselves and those most important to them. I serve alongside a Creature of beauty so elegant and bright that there is nothing in existence to compare her to and not sully her image. I often feel myself twinge with jealousy ever so slightly at how gorgeous she is, only to realize that to this Creature and our Master Reaper I am beautiful as well. They have welcomed me into their home and family, and their generosity has been staggering. For them I have shed tears of joy and sorrow. Feeling their arms around me and their heart's warmth in mine fills me with such adoration for them, yet knowing that I can never truly repay them for every thing they have done and all they wish to do in full fills me with such sadness that I cant help but feel like a burden on them. But then the collar I have been given reminds me of their hold on me, my servitude.

His collar is perpetually warm, energizing even. His touch even more so. The longing and desire, nay, NEED to serve these beings is paramount and second only to my life as a mother and the love I have for my only daughter. In secret I devote ALL of my spare time and thought to knowing his rules and his requirements for the slave of a Reaper. And where it sometimes feels like there's so much to learn and apply, I make break throughs faster than I thought possible. Even my wishes to have a life long friend has been fulfilled in his Creature. She is so much like myself yet different enough that I have something to aspire to transform into in the coming years. Her art is abstract and poetic, she is strong, steadfast, resilient beyond measure. A true wonder. And if she really feels as highly for me now as she lets on then I have been given a gift I don't entirely feel I deserve. And even in her touch, as infrequent as is it, as subtle as it can be there is an energy that fills the emptiness I find growing larger and smaller the more time comes to pass.

Within their words I find small pieces of my former self, the self I have been trying to bring back to the surface for years now. Slowly but surely small pieces of the puzzle I though I'd lost are reconnecting themselves and revealing more of me to those that are choosing to see it. And it saddens me to think that if ever the day comes the door to that dark room reopens and the room itself has changed, I may not be allowed to return to it because of the changes I have undergone. But then my keepers remind me that loss isn't mine to feel, but that world's. It is there that my being is wasted, and it is the person in that room that will long and pray for my return but with little to no avail.

In this new world I've plunged myself into I have structure and a sense of purpose. Here I have found more than companionship and life long friends, I have found love and light. I have found a GROUP that I can contribute to and be a part of. I have found kindred spirits so that I may no longer walk my path alone. Here I have discovered that regardless how I view myself, there are people that think I am a work of art, and its beginning to spread into my own way of thinking.

I loved the one that was in that dark room with me, and I still do. But what is love if you cannot trust? What is trust if there is no room to build and grow something so fragile? What is a life where there can be no evolution into something higher than what was broken and filled with pain? In my new world I am evolving, growing, trusting, and loving. I am trusted and loved in turn. I am not the only one being leaned on and I no longer am without something to lean on myself. Even a mountain needs something to hold on to when the ocean's crashing becomes too great.

This Reaper and his Creature have shown me something spectacular, and they continue to do so. Every day is an opportunity to learn, to show what I am capable of at my very core. And every chance I've had to show them just what I can do and who I am, they've been impressed with me. It is here with them that I am feeling most at home, at ease. It is here where I have the purpose I have been looking for. It is within my Master Reaper and his Creature that I am needed. So it is here I will continue my servitude, and do my best to give to them the light and hope they have given me.

-Iseley Lorraine Black

Yellow Bricks...

Master once texted “The future is a long and twisty toad.” He meant road, but his phone loves to play tricks on him.

Life is funny; it sometimes brings us to places we never expected to be.

When I last wrote about Iseley – it was my first impression of meeting her. Since then, we've spent more time together, for a while just as friends, and now, after a few hundred miles, as a cohabitant. We both wear his collar. We brat at him like crazy. And he's grinning like a mad man. We can work together as a perfect team with domestic things – she gives me no anxiety when she takes over the kitchen! – and we can hang out in the same room talking, sharing music, working on art, managing the minions... We get along as if she's always been here.

I am a giant introvert. I like to be alone, and I like having space (at least for a few hours) that is sort of mine. When her moving in presented itself as an opportunity, Master asked me if I would be okay. My honest answer was “I don't know, but this deserves a chance.”

There's a lot more I'd like to write here, but the story isn't mine alone. It isn't my place to tell you when Master first confessed to me that he had fallen in love with her; or how it was all revealed (I can say there were lots of directives to two girls to talk about “feels,” and I'd like to add that neither of us like “feelsharing”); or how she came to her own decisions about what was right for her.

The week leading up to her arriving was a ball of anxiety for me; but when she pulled in and as I texted Master to inform him she had arrived, she jumped out and hugged my car. In that moment, there was a wash of relief. She was home. And that kind of made things perfect.

There are still all sorts of things to figure out. There are things that we need to do to find our balance. We need to learn how we need to share time, so that everyone gets as much of their needs met as possible. We need to logistically divide chores and responsibilities so that none of us are overwhelmed, especially once Iseley finds the perfect job that meets her career goals and growth expectations. I don't know how it's all going to work out, but there's a certainty in my heart that it is going to work out.

In the meantime, I can see how we're all good for each other. Iseley shakes the agoraphobia out of me, and I'm more willing to go places I wouldn't normally go. She spurs all of us to actually get out the door and not hide from all the places and stuff we could be going and doing. She keeps me from being too hard on my face, my shape, my level of fitness; and I think I'm doing the same for her. She's easy to talk to, but it's also easy to just hang out in a comfortable silence with her. There's no pressure. I'm learning better how to ask for help with things, learning to let go. Her talents in the kitchen are amazing; she's a sensational chef; she's introduced all of us to a wider range of cuisine than I ever attempted.

While we have grand plans and ideas about buying two duplexes so we can just put a door between the units, that may be a long way into the twisty toad...I mean road. So in the meantime, a bigger condo? A house with a few extra rooms? And how to explain to people who visit who aren't in the know? I mean, currently, we live in a two bedroom with kids, so there's no “guest room,” and family might have some serious questions and weird responses.

But at home (despite me being a super recluse) the moments we three share... it's very comfortable.

There's something right happening.

The Risks We Accept

I was asked by a friend of ours recently, "how do you engage in polyamory without having your heart broken?" The simple answer is, you don't. There is no way, in my experience, to open yourself up so significantly to someone, invite them into the very essence of yourself, and not risk that potential for heartache. 

You can ride the highs, delight in the laughter, and become drunk on the passion. But for every peak, there is an equivalent valley. Two sides of the same coin every participant chooses as currency. Trust, caring, desire, even love: all things that have their shadow selves. These are the things we risk when we engage in this life style. 

We hope and trust that the people we choose are what they say they are, and that they care for us in kind. The only recourse we really have is to be ourselves; to give as we would, to care as we always would, and to trust. And in this, we can build incredible relationships that span years or more. Or not...

Just because we are faced with the potential for pain and heartache, doesn't mean we have to be victims of it. If we accept both the highs and the lows, face the realization that with one comes the potential for the other, we are better able to choose how we face it. To choose to care for someone when trust has been betrayed, to forgive and show compassion... It is in no way an easy thing. Succumbing to bitterness and anger, that is easy. But the right thing is never easy and the easy thing is never worth doing. 

And, sometimes, the connection we make, no matter how long or how brief, is worth that risk...

Impressions...

 

Well then...There's been a lot of really cool stuff lately. Not as much kink as we would like, but Master and I are working on building little rituals that work inside our regular day to day, which is phenomenal. Thunder was a really big help this year. Fantastic.

But this...this is kind of a vanilla post from me. See, Iseley was in our neighborhood over the weekend, so we had her over to hang out during the day.

We've been chatting via text fairly regularly for the last few weeks, so I was excited to meet her in person. Master told me she might text me if her GPS misled her, but the text I received was her letting me know she was here.

Impressions...she's adorable! Her voice is delightful, and she seems very comfortable in her skin, and expresses herself with very little reservation, though I think she definitely let her guard down a bit with me. I envy her height, because I am a "short" person who grew up with tall people. Her eyes are very expressive and fast; she caught so many things that many people don't notice, and I loved how free she felt to comment on everything. Her inner joy is catching, and she's wickedly clever and fun.

We spent many fun hours chatting, sharing some of our favorite things, she brought me delicious, delicious ginger snap cookies that she'd made, and we had a blast. I was feeling fairly shy, but we did talk quite a bit, and I smiled a lot.  We teased Master via text about the fact that I'd finished my chores early in the day so that we could do whatever we liked while he was at work. She shared some of her music, and I enjoyed listening to a genre that isn't typical for me, we doodled with sharpies for a while, and generally just enjoyed the day. When our Friday afternoon together had been spent, I was quite sad. But I was very much looking forward to Saturday. She'd promised to cook one of her favorite meals for us and stay for gaming.

The food was fantastic...and gaming was hilariously, delightfully, ridiculous (we barely finished one combat section, because we were laughing, talking and running characters about in a drunken state) but I think my favorite part is that we just laughed and smiled so much.

Being around Iseley was like finding a long-lost best friend...And I'm looking forward to the next chance we get.

Summing up an impression of someone is challenging, but little things I noticed and loved that I have to share:
♥ When she draws, she draws the way I do, with her face inches away from her art.
♥ When she listens to music, her hands move the way Master's do...like a violinist feeling the music and imagining the strings...
♥ She's courageous when meeting people for the first time.
♥ She loves owls.
♥ It's easy to be around her, and appreciate her for who she is, without expectation.



 

Pieces

Master and I went on our…well…it’s practically a religious experience for us going to a kinky convention, so…Master and I went to a sacred place last weekend. 

It was, as it always is, enlightening, refreshing…and I came away with thoughts that might help me not only battle my negative headspaces, but help both of us continue to bring our roles into all of the rules we live by. A long while ago, we actually started using a daily chore list. I am responsible for doing the thing and marking it off (or writing why it isn’t marked off). Master is responsible for checking my list and acknowledging the done things and talking with me about how or when I can get the not-done-things done. Who would have thought that I would be excited about chores? But I actually often am. I’m wiggly and waggly when I cross things off the list, and when he looks at the list and is pleased/surprised/happy that I actually managed to fulfill these goals, it makes it even better.

So now…now we’re in the process of deciding how to bring small rituals that reinforce our roles into the other things we do. We’re working on making our connections stronger, more stable, more able to withstand the stressful weeks when adulting is just too damn hard.

We also had the chance to meet wonderful people and Master got some serious play on. I don’t know when he actually slept. Or if he slept?

And one more thing. One more epically beautiful thing.

Master and I play hard. We do. But he also calls me a toy snob. Because I’d rather that he use his fists and his feet. Some toys are great, and some I can love sometimes. But practically any time Master uses his fists, his ridgehands, his kicks…I melt. I can last. I brace myself against the flurry of blows, relying on my own martial training to tense my muscles to protect the organs and tissues from harm.

Those flurries of blows, though…they blossom pain in me. And I feel like they explode, and when the pain recedes back into the source, I feel purified. Over and over again, I explode, return, explode, return, and I am more myself after every explosion, I feel as if it is a sacred experience, the  blossom of pain bringing me back into my truest version of myself. I feel able to face the challenges of every day. I feel ready to be creative and make progress with my many projects. I am ready. I am pure. When there’s a toy that we’re using for that burst of pain, it isn’t the same explosion. I don’t recede back into myself with the pain. So if I’m already feeling weak and unlike myself, a toy (a crop, a cane…) is going to leave me feeling weaker than when we started…So I need to be strong, be the truest version before we pull out the toys.

I am learning how I need help picking up my pieces and being myself.

It was sacred.

Bliss in 60...

It’s been nearly exactly six months since I posted.

Sorry.

Not gonna lie, I’ve still been struggling. I’ve withdrawn a lot on social media, both vanilla and kink, and only now am feeling like I’m ready to participate at my own speed. 2016 has been a challenge in more ways than one. There’s been my struggle with…well…life in general, our apartment was burned in a fire (no one was hurt, we had minimal losses…as far as disasters go, not the worst thing ever, though still utterly horrible), and Master and I just don’t get the time alone we desperately need. I think this is the worst. There’s an intrinsic need for both of us to have time together dripped with rope and chains; but we don’t have the structure to have it. We see the light at the end of the tunnel, really and true, we know that the structure is growing and changing and it will provide more time for Master to be Master and me to be creature without having to compartmentalize.

But recently, Master and I did have the opportunity to spend about 60 hours utterly alone together. We talked, we laughed, we went out to eat without small people running amok…and there was so much time devoted kink.

We were able to start Friday night – put some dinner in our bellies and talked about all the things we love that we never have the time to do. We piled up a slew of rope and chain downstairs and upstairs, though we wound up playing in the living room more than we did anywhere else. It was cooler, and there was more floor space for…many things. Master used my favorite rope tie on me to start, knocked me over and teased me for falling over, insisted I get up; just so he could knock me over again, I am sure. We had lots of sex. Master put me in the cage, and used the dowel rods to make it worse. He left me chained to a hitching ring he’d hidden in the closet. He kicked me, punched me, slapped me, electrocuted me, fucked me raw, denied me orgasms, overloaded me with the same, and generally treated me like a toy. Until we were both so raw and tired Sunday night, that we knew we had to sleep so that Monday wasn’t utterly miserable for Master at work. (We didn’t do very well, there; I think he was actually asleep about an hour late.)

There have been no marks that have shown, but I can feel the rawness of my flesh rubbing against socks and jeans and shoes and shirts and I’m…I’m impatient for the next round, which looks like will happen at Thunder.

Maybe we should bring Master’s cage and dowel rods along this time. Heheheh...