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...

Humiliation via Text

With the recent move, we've found ourselves closer to old friends and new. It's been really spectacular, in that many of them are as geeky as we are (and truth be told, a few are deepening our geeky-ness). Another particularly awesome bonus is that a few of them are kink-curious themselves, and most of them are kink-friendly.

On July 31, one of our friends whom we have known for years, celebrated his birthday. His request was boobie pictures. Being the obliging sort, Master confirmed the birthday fellow's phone number when our geeky, kink-friendly friends popped over, and sent a picture of my boobage via text. It was very much like the pink ribbon. It was embarrassing and a bit humiliating, considering among our friends (who were geeky friends before we realized they were also kinky friends) i tend to be rather prudish. After a few moments, our visiting friends began looking at their phones. One looked at me and smirked. Another looked at Master and asked if He'd meant to do that. And i was largely befuddled until the last text arrived in the room, when the third friend exclaimed "Boobies!"

Of course, i nabbed Master's phone to prevent the picture from spreading further by His fingers, but His phone is not set up the same way mine is, so i wound up opening His music files and playing "Control" by Poe. How stunningly appropriate! At that point Master demanded the return of His phone and my face was probably as pink as the (thankfully) absent pink ribbon of doom.

i hope our birthday friend enjoyed the picture as much as it fueled Master's and my enjoyment at one of our favorite aspects of play: humiliation.

So rare...

Warning (or Tease): this post contains breath play.

The hardest thing about life is it never leaves you alone. You can be sitting there, minding your own business and then its there, poking you in the head, pulling on your shirt, screaming for your attention... (Though i have personified life as a child, i am not actually referring to the child in particular.) And when it goes quiet, you have the decision of what to do, go and poke it for a change or let it lie and steal the moment for your own...

Master and i often struggle with that decision. But thankfully, yesterday we did take the opportunity to let everything outside our door stay outside our door for a little interlude.

Did you know they make hot pink duct tape now? It's awesome (but not as awesome as the purple or the tie-dye version).

So, as i lay there, bound down with my arms out to the sides, Master brought the hot pink duct tape out and quite securely, taped my mouth shut. It is a lovely feeling, for me, to be helpless and voiceless. It also has various levels of frustrations, depending on how many questions Master feels like asking while i can't pry my mouth open. But in this case, it was primarily lovely. i have missed duct tape. We haven't played much with it lately...

(One quick aside: once upon a time, Master wrapped me in a corset made of duct tape. That was fun. And more than five years ago. Sadness for me.)

What really made that session, though, was probably the breath play. Like i've said before, some aspects of breath play make me twitchy and nervous. Has anyone out there ever had duct tape over their nose?

i have now. It was horrifyingly amazing. The fight of it, unable to really do anything about it, and hear Master tell me it was fine, that He was there, that it would only go as far as He wanted it to go. It was . . . wow. There was panic, there was the fight of my body doing what its' supposed to be doing (trying to get fresh air), and yet there was trust riding over all of those things. The more the panic rose, the more the trust did, too. i was frantic, but, almost not.

And then the duct tape was ripped off (and it felt like part of my face, too) and the air rushed in. The panic receded, but the trust didn't. i was calm, cool and blissed out...

Today, i have a little bit of my cheek flesh that's tender and i keep touching it, pushing on it, just a little bit, making it sting for just a second, while i smile.

Biting my tounge...

Master and i have struggled for a long time with my nature to control the environment i am in. There's a reason for this, for my dissociation, my desire to know what's coming next. The reason i have chosen not to face for years. Like all things, no matter how tightly they are packed away in your mind, it has emerged, no longer an abandoned memory stuffed into the recesses of my mind.

The memories are not the subject of this post, as i have spewed those memories elsewhere, and now, after Master and i have discussed them, i am going to attempt to curb my desire to control the situation, to be present instead of retreating when things get too hard and to fall again into that place of trust.

It's not easy. Master plans and plots a scene, and though i know i will benefit in being of service, being a pleasure to Him, i will ask question after question. Often leading the scene to destruction because i refuse to release my hold on expectations.

Even knowing where my questing tongue will lead the scene, and how it will make Him feel, as i attempt to curb my tongue, my body language betrays me. Being stiff and slack shouldered keys Master into the fact that i am holding back and not fully releasing myself into His hands. And He will ask, and i have to tell, leading to the ruination of the scene because biting my tongue wasn't enough.

And how that frustrates me and leads me into feeling like a failure.

i'm happiest with Him when i have relinqueshed control, when i allow myself to be present in the moment, sinking into the bliss of being His property, His plaything. In those moments, i feel more alive than ever. Over and over again, Master has proved that He knows me, down to the deepest core of smoky quartz of my soul. Master has shown me that He is the light that burns through me, that with Him, i become a blaze of light and allow myself to be who i really am.

Every moment with Master becomes a moment of bliss when i give myself over as completely as i promised when i chose to accept His collar. Every moment i am present, i become more than average.

It is time for me to allow the psychological damage to be burned away in trust. It is time for me to be greatful for every moment of our lives when we are who we are together. That means no more questions, no more slack-shouldered stiffness... It means, truly accepting that i am His, proudly, in every moment, without questions and doubt.

It is time to fulfill my promise to the one who owns my heart, my Master.

Less time in hand...

...Then time out the window.

August has flown by and it doesn't seem like it. For the life of me i cannot figure out where it all has gone. Master and i have had a rather hectic and traumatic month, as we adjust to the requirements of His job outside the home, and the upcoming schedule change.

It's something that i've allowed to stress me out and make me agitated. In turn, making me over-tired and -- i hate to say it -- demanding.

There is a blog i read, freqently, because i adore the way she describes everything she shares with us, and recently, wrote about the "disaster". If you haven't followed the link on our sidebar to view Persephone's Obedience, her series on the disaster is amazing.

And, i did tangent briefly to her for a reason. Trust. Placing absolute trust in one's Master is an amazing place to be. i know because once, breifly, i did. It was beautiful, freeing and humbling. The reason i'm not there now?

Things changed, and i didn't trust.

That one action of mine, set us both spinning in aggrivation, dumped me into a melancholy state and left Master horribly frustrated. Instead of moving us forward, Master had to work us through all that territory we'd already been through.

Here we are, again in a position where i have to trust. The slave in me has to let go of her fears, and know that trusting Master is the most important thing she can do. Fretting, making myself aggrivated, anxious and exausted is not helpful to the situation.

i have to let go. No more worrying about how quickly time passes, or what the change is going to bring. It's up to me to trust.

Submitting or Force?

Master struggles with me, somewhat, because in a lot of cases, despite my wanting to be good and pleasing, He often has to resort to force. His force of will, His physical force, when really, i should be (and want to be), pliable in His hands.

i love games like "chase" when i fight tooth and nail only to wind up exactly where He intended me to be. But subspace for me becomes deeper, warmer and more satisfying when i help Him by being where He intended me to be or doing what He intended for me to do. So why, when these are the things i crave, do i so often pick and nag at Him until He growls in frustration and reminds me that i do have safe words that i can use, but otherwise, He's going to stop listening?

i love rope bondage, yet every time He asks me to bring Him rope, i offer an audible sigh akin to frustration? i adore being drawn down into subspace and falling into the pain He gives me, yet i wriggle, make faces and complain when the evil white spoon is brought out. i adore the moments He cuddles me, but when He offers to let me lay in His lap i become a grumbling girl.

Why?

Is it that i have expectations of the moments we have to steal together? After nearly ten years shouldn't His pet know that her expectations are second to His?

Yes and a resounding Yes.

This is something i still need to work on - first of all, i don't verbalize my own wants, wishes and expectations often, so how can He know? Secondly, in all other things He comes first, yet in those stolen moments, i need to re-prioritize and remember that if He has plans, i need to accept them.

After all, i trust Him more than i trust myself, and i know that if i lay down those gripes, the bad habit of attempting to top from the bottom (which is really ironic, because i loathe being in charge, i feel awkward, out of place and miserable when i have taken the lead) and trust in His plans the places we go together become a wonderful, fulfilling experience for both of us.

In the long run, Master is the one in charge of the helm and navigation - i am simply looking out for rocks in the path - and He knows best where He would like to go.