Xanadu

Xanadu
In Xanadu did Kublah Khan a stately pleasure dome decree

Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Princess May Days

MASTER!! Is it CAMP YET?!

No, honey, a few more weeks.

I WANT IT TO BE CAMP ALREADY? How much LOOOOOOONNNNGER?

Soon, honey. We can start packing now though. Here. Here’s a big bag, anytime you see something we want at camp, you just put it in there, ok?

Aw-RIGHT!  i can DO that! Lessee. i’m gonna put my pencils and coloring books (*thud, crash*) and my fuzzy blanket and Your pretty linen blanket (*fabric flying across the room*) and the blue BUDGIE cuz it gets chilly at night (*closet door torn open*) and can we order 300 GLO STIX and can You make me a LIGHT UP TUTU?!... (*here’s your phone can you do that NOOOOOOOWWWW?!?!*) and... and...

Princess is hyperventilating and lighting up the room grinning from ear to ear.

she got to go to a Littles event two weekends ago. We just sat and colored through a discussion group that was a little scary cuz someone talked more about their deep dark personal abuse history more than we were maybe COMFORTABLE with. And we saw a few people we knew and made some new friends. It wasn’t exactly our scene but it was fun to share our nice colored PENCILS and show people what we MADE. We learned that our sadism is not limited to top/Dom/Master space cuz Princess REALLY wished she had a nerf gun so she could SHOOT the puppies and the furries in the nuts. *giant GRIN* We aren’t sure but maybe there’s more to her than just being an Angel.  And we ate fun decorated mini cupcakes, too many, but Master made an exception.

And we saw another Master we know and well, that was just a little WEIRD and kinda EMBARASSING, but he gave us a hug and asked our name today, and his slave was very nice too and told him we were there right away so he wasn’t TOO shocked. And it WAS a nice big long hug.  He felt better when Master said that Princess is just one more thing for Master to manage. 

And it’s TRUE. Cuz Princess is a HANDful. Yes, she is.

And Princess has a PLAY date lined up for camp already, maybe even TWO. And Princess might have a new friend named J.  We met him onLINE then at a MUNCH (*om nom nom*) then at a party and then we had a long very chatty dinner and he took it slow, he seems to LISTEN to us and he’s being CAREFUL. That’s all very GOOD and Master approves though the General is a little suspicious and being very wait-and-see. So hopefully we will get to play with him in about two weeks and maybe that’s part of why Princess is so EXCITABLE right now.

Plus Master has been working hard on Princess stuff in Her new therapy. She had some really big old E-motions come up. It’s not easy but it’s GOOD.  We understand more about Princesses almost every DAY, and it might be getting EASIER for Master, just a LITTLE.

And Princess FINALLY got her BICYCLE! It took a long time but for the first time in almost 10 years since the accident WE CAN RIDE THE BIKE!  Only for a few minutes cuz our BACK isn’t so sure yet, but we are WORKING on it and we are not gonna give UP!  Cuz we love to FLY on our BIKE.  It’s a Performance PeeWee bike now, we sit up all STRAIGHT like they do in Europe cuz then our NECK doesn’t hurt too much. But our BUTT doesn’t like it a lot but we don’t CARE.

And the bike well it might need something PINK or SPARKLEY or BOTH. That’s under discussion with Master though.  Princess thinks you can NEVER have too much pink.  Master thinks it might be POSSIBLE.

So we are very HAPPY cuz we have a bike and a patio and long hotshowers and a fuzzy blanket and camp and we might get to PLAY and it’s summer and we went to Sheep-And-Wool and got a pretty purse and a pink top and we can SWIM and well, we just don’t know how we ever got along without a PRINCESS.  We musta never had any FUN before at ALL.

That’s RIGHT!!!!!!  


It’s a Tankless Job

It was a cold rainy spring again after tasting two days of summer. The house has been a hot topic lately. Parents are coming this weekend to get the patio in before the yard is ov I discovered the hot water heater in the utility room leaking, with water damage to the subfloor. It turns out to have been junk equipment, horrifically installed, both Home Depot specials. Ugh. My plumber had choice words. I wasn’t really ready to replace it, given it was under 5 years old, and I have said for a year now that eventually I would convert to tankless. That day showed up way sooner than I expected. After much back and forth, I’m about ready to pull the trigger on it, despite the breathtaking cost.  The thing is that two square feet in the utility room is vital real estate and critical to the future kitchen/ utility remodel. There’s just no real way around it. In the end, I concluded that going tankless is like doing  an addition of 4 square feet.

The failing water heater may be the reason - one of several reasons? - I was getting water in the crawl space. It will be good to fix THAT.   

When we un-installed it the plumber was horrified to find the gas connection loose and improperly sealed.  I have smelled gas on several occasions, but always fleetingly and was never sure which applicance was the culprit.  Switching to the tankless achieves a number of good things, significantly reducing the demand for combustion air inside the house. Hopefully, no water leak and no gas leak will mean less asthma, and fewer bugs.

I have been to see a unit operating in a house nearby and it was almost silent. I prefer a different but slightly noiser brand, because it uses two 2” pipes for venting instead of one big 5”.  That’s important in My tight utility space.  Had to really think about the piping and venting configuration, one place had a white snorkel/ periscope thing for the vent off the back of the red brick house. No. I wanted it all nice and compact and logical to maximize the space gain.

I was proud of Myself for shutting down the water heater, not that it was hard, just intimidating. The plumber took it away after leaking again while “empty”. I had him patch the tile floor that I had excavated and dried out; I still need to finish it with grout. He capped off the water lines downstream of the shut off valve, so I could keep using the external hoses and washing machine for cold water while I figured out the tankless. He removed a significant amount of abandoned piping including an obsolete incoming line for the former gas meter, which used to be *inside* the house.  I was without hot water for about 3 weeks which wasn’t terrible, showering at the office, just a matter of doing dishes using hot water from a fast electic kettle.

And the coup de grace? It turns out the overhead incoming water line had a T joint on the verge of failing. I watched it come apart during the tankless install, it was never screwed together fully and held together only by a little rust and 70 years of paint. That made Me feel a lot better about the project cost; what an utter disaster it would have been to have the full volume of the incoming house water supply shooting from ceiling height across the house at a 45 degree angle for hours or days. One shudders to imagine.

It rocks though, now that it’s in and paid for. Absolutely rocks. Still need the gas meter ugraded and permit inspection and all. But it rocks.  Being able to stand in a hot shower until you want to get out is uh-mazing; it’s weird and neat to be able to ignore the voice in your head that says “Better hurry up, it’ll be cold soon”.   Kinda like throwing a book in the trash or willfully dunking your phone in water. It’s deliciously transgressive somehow.

I feel like the house has gotten away from Me, things have been going on the To Do List much faster than I can take them off.  Never mind forward progress or treading water, I’m falling way behind. It’s time to spend more money than I want to spend. Deferred maintenance is a bitch.

boy m really earned his collar again in April in the form of emotional support. he stopped by for a bit one evening and gave Me much needed touch, as well as making good on the sweatshirt gift. he provided sheet laundry service for the heavy flannel sheet that was a washer fail. It was My mistake, involving the fact the hot water line had been capped off and I didn’t have the presence of mind to select cold wash. So the beautiful flannel sheet he gave Me got an industrial grade detergent  on it which sat undiluted for lack of hot water, and I couldn’t actually wash it, was lucky it wasn’t damaged.  Since it was his gift, I was much relieved it survives.

The garden was begun in April, there were lettuces waiting to be planted and probably getting root bound. Once in they proceeded to bolt within weeks. I seem to do this every year, buy and not plant fast enough. The weeds are growing as the saying implies.  The little lilac blooms on second year growth and put on a nice show soon. As long as I’m getting that wonderful fragrance, I will tolerate the messy, scraggly appearance.

Finally, I have been talking of necessity with Napoleon neighbor. He is gutting the place that adjoins which means we have been forced into some communications.  He is making an effort to be considerate, I think, but at the end of the day, it just sucks to live in a construction zone. He seems to only have one guy with a hammer and hammer drill in there at any moment, so it is very drawn out.

April was indeed the cruelest month as we ripped the beating heart out of the company’s admin IT systems, using a Ready Fire Aim management approach. Big ugh.

The day after the tankless was installed, The Rents came for a week. I unfortunately spent only small windows of time with them, dad before work, mom late at night. And I laid in the supplies we needed for dad to build out the bluestone patio.  He ran out of steam after it was roughed in and went home to tend a sore knee, then popped a fever and it turns out he laid a 200 SF stone patio with only one functioning lung. He had pneumonia. Poor guy, no wonder he was tired. But still a giant step forward for the house. That project has been 4 years in the planning and debating. It needs steps and some stones need fine tuning to stop them rocking, and it needs finishing sand, and an exit to the alley. But we are over the hump, and that’s amazing.  Oh and to space fill waiting for deliveries, dad installed the second planted in the front yard, the one whose lumber has been in My bedroom since October.  Awesome to have THAT done too. Really busting up the log jam around the joint.


So April was also the most expensive month since I bought the house, but that’s why we feed a project fund. Even though it’s painful to pay those bills, it’s wonderful that I can. 

Sunday, April 15, 2018

The Basics

I’ve been talking to a new boy for a while, and we have reached the point where it makes sense to give him the clear basics of My service expectations.  Every boy needs to hear the particulars of My expectations, I cannot reasonably expect them to read My mind, so this has developed into a series of little elevator speeches. We are discussing him coming to camp, so it is written with that in mind, but one can certainly extrapolate and I think I’ll be re-using a good part of this rendition in the future:
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The bedrock of My dynamic is the Duty Of Transparency. This means you consent to be an open book to Me in every way. you answer My questions completely and truthfully to the best of your ability. you consciously withhold nothing. If you know something that I don’t, and it might possibly influence My decision making, you alert Me. If you are sad, you tell Me. If you feel sick, you tell Me. If you just feel bad and don’t know why, you tell Me.  I want you PRESENT.  As soon as you begin to debate something internally, to feel conflicted, you become less Present with Me. This is an authority based dynamic.   To Me that means:  I decide; you trust Me to decide well; you give Me all the info I need to do My job.  To fly this airplane, I need all the indicator gauges and I need them giving Me accurate information.  

Do you agree to accept the Duty Of Transparency?

Beyond that: 
Male hygeine is very important to Me. Have regular dental cleanings, good oral hygeine, and make sure your breath and body are kept fresh. This can be a challenge at camp. Feet should be attractive, nails should be rounded and smooth. I am chemical sensitive, most fragrance and mass perfume (soaps) makes Me allergic. Everything I use for laundry is a plant based soap with only a faint and always natural fragrance (lavender, verbena). Choose your products accordingly.  I prefer your underarms and crotch at minimum neatly groomed, the shorter the better. If you have never been waxed, I do not require it, however I do like it on a boy. I have a waxing kit, I could plan to bring it and wax you at camp. It hurts a lot, be sure you are a masochist before you agree. I like a clean shaven face, esp. immediately before providing oral service, if you are so lucky. 

Upon greeting, I like My hand kissed in a gentlemanly way with a little courtly bow. The same upon taking leave for the evening. To really capture My fancy, when the context permits (everywhere at camp), add gracefully kneeling and kissing My feet with reverence.  I love a boy kneeling and looking up at Me. I definitely want you at My physical level or below, not above. I have a neck injury and cannot look upward comfortably for any length of time.

Here is how you offer unsolicited assistance and request clarification when unsure:

“Would Miss like Her boy to... do XYZ?”

Here are the levels of assent:

Yes, Miss
This can be pleasurably and entertainingly enhanced with embellishments like "Right away, Miss!" and  "Absolutely, Miss!" And of course a big smile. Never underestimate how powerful this little thing is. Invest it with meaning in how you do it. I like cheerful working dogs.

If it please you, Miss
This conveys that a reservation or concern exists, so that I can choose to inquire and make sure I understand it

Not unless it please you, Miss
This means you seriously do not want to do this, but you will as a matter of pure obedience. It puts Me on notice that you are doing a challenging thing and we are close to the limits of your consent. This phrase alerts My antenna to watch out for some sort of rebound response, need for aftercare, and probably need for some extra praise.

The default safewords are:

Yellow
I need a breather, I’m feeling overwhelmed, or I need to talk about this

Red
Absolutely not, consent withdrawn immediately

Blue
Like yellow, but for hitting an emotional landmine, e.g., I slapped you and you had a flashback to being hit as a kid and it made you feel panicky. The slap itself wasn’t too hard, the problem is the emotions triggered that (duty of transparency!)  I cannot know are happening.

Three of anything, when you cannot speak
Anything, grunts, taps, claps. Three of anything means an urgent yellow, i.e.,  there is a problem that needs My immediate attention to inquire and address. I will hear it as a distress signal.

Things that make Me smile:

- anticipatory service, which I think of as ALIGNMENT.  you are paying attention to Me and what I care about; your energies are fully aligned with My wants, needs, values.  Noticing I need a refill, esp., need more ice at camp. Straightening up clutter so things look nice and ordered. Clearing My plate when finished. Assessing whether I need anything when you have to get up for yourself. Offering the chair or better chair. All the high level chivalrous things that have faded. Alignment encompasses robust paying attention - for example, it looks like rain and the first raindrop is heard on the roof. you connect the dots to the fact we have towels dried outside on the line that will get wet, so (“Miss! The towels!”) you pop up and grab them.  Also, paying attention may mean assessing whether I have ready the things I will need to go to a class, noting the time and location of the class, and alerting Me I will need to leave shortly. The major domo role/ concierge role is something I really enjoy, as it allows Me time off duty. I am generally on duty mentally all the time.

- being at My feet. I don’t want or require you to sit in a mud puddle, I recognize we have middle age body limits, and camp is uncomfortable, but where logical and possible, I always enjoy you at My feet or failing that at My side (e.g., campfire) when I am seated as much as possible. 

- I like to control your access to the loo when we are together. If you need to pee: “Would Miss like Her boy to go to the loo?”  If you need to move bowels: “Would Miss like Her boy to use the facilities?”  Don’t worry, I am not into poo play, it is about sustaining the dynamic, and about transparency, which may carry with it just a little humiliation sometimes.

I expect My boys to apply their real world skills for Me, and if you are a white collar sort, hopefully you will find this fairly organic. This is the CEO-COO teamwork model of D/s.

TSPD


Sent from My phone

Thursday, March 29, 2018

Leaving on a Jet Plane

I have a sometime playmate, Deev, who defies categorization. We have over the last year had maybe eight playdates. They are quite simple and even repetitively dull to anyone watching. But they are amazing to experience.

He struggled as usual with mass transit to reach Me at the office at 7 pm, though we had planned on 6. On a whim, with no explanation or warning, I took him up to see the magnificent roof view and we watched a lot of airplanes on final approach overhead, turning and landing.  Talking about how strange it is to be on the roof looking at people in cars and airplanes, and to know what it is like to be inside those cars and airplanes, while I look at them. He mentioned that he hasn’t really ever gone anywhere. Finally we got to the house and sat outside eating the McDonalds we had grabbed, talking for quite a while as we watched four cop cars trying to accomplish something down the block. Eventually he said:

“I have news. I broke up with my live in girlfriend and I am moving to Thailand in four months, maybe less.”

So we had a nice talk about the how and why and excitement of all that, his big adventure, life change, and how interesting that I had without discussion taken him up to the roof to watch and talk about airplanes.  I was a little sad but also very happy for him. He is a young man, and it is right he should go live life in a bigger way than he has been doing.  I suppose if I had thought about it I would have seen that this would not go on indefinitely; I thought he’d leave through marriage. 

We had agreed he would crash overnight, since getting him home late on the bus was not easy, but in time he changed his mind out in the yard enjoying the weather. So we took ourselves inside and had another delightful session. I lay on the bed, a big bolster under My knees, no pillow, a big blanket on Me from nose to knees, bare from the knees down. He takes off his shirt, I give him a pillow for comfort on the floor which he usually ignores, and then he... does something between a foot rub and body worship and massage and dance and reiki.  He uses his hands and arms, his chest and head and lips, tongue, ears, shoulders, hair to connect with Me at both a body level and a deep energy level, from knees to toe tips. Then when it’s complete, he climbs on the bed and we cuddle and talk about our experiences. And then he goes home, except that tonight I was planning to have him crash in the guest room.

I cannot meaningfully rank pieces of the experience, but some of the consistently most lovely moments are when he slides his arms up from feet to above the knees with full contact. Or puts the soles of both My feet on his warm, solid chest. I like to wiggle My toes a little in certain ways to communicate My enjoyment, and I love twining My toes in his beautiful, long, magnificent mane of black wavy hair. 

Tonight I had a moment where I realized that even in receiving his service, I felt the need to work a little, so I gave Myself permission to stop, actually TOLD Myself to stop, to just be still, to completely receive. And at that point I fell off the cliff for I have no idea how long. Not asleep. Somewhere floating out in yoga nidra universe space connected to My body by only the slenderest of golden threads, in the most deeply relaxed and restorative state I have found. Until the moment he gently kissed one foot and then the other in a very still way, and the hour long wave of our wordless, shared energy abated, pulling Me back into My body. And I heard the Princess voice faintly say, “nooooooooo....!”

But it was still entirely good.

It was also 11pm and he had quite the trek home. I’ve driven him before, part or all the way. Tonight I flipped for an Uber pool, I didn’t want to kill My buzz with driving.  We said goodbye before I pushed the button on the uber app, and I said...

“I’m sure we will see each other again maybe a few times before you go to Thailand. I have an ask: I need to know when it is the last time. I’m tender in the area of people going away, especially when they are men I like.”

He sweetly agreed and said...

“I know. I remember you told me that once. It’s why I waited until we were together in person to tell you about going to Thailand.”

You know, it has taken me a long time to reach the point where I can articulate that deep vulnerability to people in anything like a clear yet casual way. And even though I do it now, in the last year at most, it is still probably my core emotional reality/ belief that I don't *expect* people to respect that need.  In this place, I am still achey from slave tarin’s abrupt departure, someone I had only with great effort allowed Myself to rely on. But I could point to many other points in life where I experienced exactly this thing which I specifically asked not occur.  In the past I have worked a whole lot harder to try and make a partner be sensitive, and failed. This time, I apparently did My part, and it was such a low grade issue, I forgot I had.

So Deev’s totally unexpected thoughtfulness and kindness wasn't just kind and thoughtful, it prompted in Me a new feeling... that something in the world has shifted.  I grew and shifted; I got in touch with this vulnerability and claimed it; and learned to have enough self compassion to clearly request compassion for it; and finally, after persisting in this new approach, the world has fallen in line with the new reality of Me. 

That's a lotta freight, of course, on a seemingly small thing, but that's how it felt. 

I shared this feeling with Deev when he reached home, and thanked him for both layers of it.  I had to smile when My one and only burner boy texted back:


“Well, damn! I’m really glad, dude!”

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

Ain’t That a Shame

Gosh, Master, that was kinda a SUCKY day, wasn’t it?

Yes, Princess, I agree. That was not the day I was hoping for.

I mean it’s bad enough we had a HEADache all day LONG. And we had to drive FOREVER to physical therapy. And we got BEAT UP, but we are STILL in pain, and then that BOY doesn’t want us AFTER ALL when we thought he DID, and then the PT we go all that way for raised his RATES 36% but he didn’t TELL us until after he beat us up and we were ALTERED. And then we felt so EXHAUSTED we had to sleep in the CAR for a long time and then it was so BRIGHT and we didn’t have SUNGLASSES and it took FOREVER to get home on STUPID I-95.

I know, Princess. It really was an all day odyssey and it was not a whole lotta fun. But we made it all that way safely, the car is ok, we are ok.

I’m not very HAPPY, but I’m not sure WHY and I don’t LIKE it.

Ok, Princess. C’m here. Would you like to be a blue budgie, would that help?

*nods yes with tears welling*

Ok, let’s get you into your onesie and get your feeties warm and get some painkiller you. Maybe a little lie down for a bit. Then we will see about dinner, I bet you are getting hungry.

=============================

There’s a great line in Room With a View in which Mr. Emerson says of his child: he only tried when he should not have tried. That was Me today.  It was a good, calibrated object lesson. Princess is new to dating and she is totally undefended. I’ve been gradually opening us up to the guy from camp who gave us the big cum. Outside of a dynamic in which I have all the power, it feels very different to say: "Hey, I wanna get laid, would you like to do the deed?"  It’s way more uncomfortable.  We were getting conflicting signals from the guy, so when he kept the date, we got our hopes up and opened the kimono emotionally, only to be turned down, with still more conflicting signals. In My adult headspace, it was no big deal. In Princess headspace, it was. She is very sensitive about feeling unwanted.

As I struggled through the long drive home, I tried to name the feels. Disappointed, sure. A little angry, possibly. Embarassed, very. But more than that. Something like embarassment but much deeper. And then I realized. Ah... this must be Shame.

I have known of Shame in the abstract. Heard it discussed. But I never knew what it meant as an experience that I could name in My own body.  Shame turns out to be the original gaslighting. Ask for what you want in a situation; the situation chooses not to grant the wish, but doesn’t accept responsibility for that decision. Instead, it’s YOUR fault for wanting it, there’s something wrong with YOU that you’d even THINK about asking. How do you manage to even exist in such epic wrongness? You should know no one would ever agree to THAT, certainly not with YOU.  

Shame is being so embarrassed for asking, for wanting what you want, that when you get told no, even nicely, you want to die.  Or at least, you want to change, cloak, cut off, even suffocate the part of yourself that is unwanted. That black, oily feeling of Shame make such choices seem well advised.

In sharing with the guy, I made passing reference to wanting to explore “the things I have not allowed myself” sexually. And flipping through the internet tonight looking at fun alternative vibe clothes I would never buy, much less wear out the front door, I was struck again by the things I do not allow Myself. Is this why I don’t dance around or do other movement alone in the house? Is this why I don’t do yoga outside of a supportive class where I get lots of encouragement?  Does My shame run that deep? Am I that estranged from Myself?

I know it has to do with feeling stupid. I know it has something to do with not wanting to look dumb even - especially - in My own mind’s eye. Public ridicule might be easier, come to think of it. "Pathetic" was My father’s go-to word. This makes some sense. Something big and still only vaguely understood happened in Me that put Princess in the dark for decades. Maybe I’m starting to get an idea of what it was. 

Ten years ago, as I went through depression, I went through a form of delayed adolescence, but Princess wasn’t with Me yet at that point. Maybe that process is still incomplete.  I tripped across this line in the news today:  “the path to truth so often runs through shame”.

A while ago I named a new piece, distinct from Master Me, Princess, and the General. I haven’t given it much thought since then, but I had named it The Shadow.  It’s a swift and silent reflex in Me that shuts down, recoils from even faintly uncomfortable and slightly dangerous-feeling situations. Could it be a form of shame in action?

I have long been aware that I became a Femdom and a Master type in kink without ever wrestling much with self acceptance.  It always felt like a logical extension of My vanilla self and it was. It took a while to get comfortable with being sadistic, sure. But I have watched so many people -- usually subby boys -- struggle with self acceptance and honestly, I have felt a bit superior to them, beyond them. 

But maybe... maybe the reverse has been true, maybe they were much further down the road than I am, because I have fundamentally been playing it safe as a Dominant. Maybe I am only just now excavating the thing I struggle with.  Maybe shame is the flip side of brave, when brave doesn’t go as hoped.

I think it is the author Robert Bly that writes about how we are born with a bag that we carry around. Any time we cannot deal, we put that unprocessed experience into the bag. Eventually we get so good at stuffing things we cannot deal with, we hardly notice, there’s just a faint doppler effect as another whizzes by. But in middle age, the bag has gotten several blocks long and heavy, and we are struggling, dragging it around. It gets stuck in revolving doors, elevators. We get to work in the morning and cannot understand why we are so tired. At some point we have no choice but to set it down and open it up, and when we do, what we find inside is a whole other person. And usually... that person is pissed.

Surfing internet clothes, I had an intense moment looking at a fun outfit where I thought:  That’s Me.  That’s a different version of Me, which I have not allowed Myself to be. 

I like Her very much. She’s not terribly far away, I don’t think. But it’s gonna take some work to get there. I’m careful of the consumerist promise that buying things solves problems, but the fleece onesie has been very instructive and so have the warm boots. Clothes help us explore and communicate identity, not just to other people but even to ourselves. Clothes make the man as the ancient saying goes. Maybe it would be worth buying that outfit.


Monday, February 26, 2018

Baroque Sandpaper

Twas a quiet, processing sort of weekend. Not enough WinterFire unpacking. Friday night at home I felt a little raw and bruised from the week, working through drop is never fun, and while I was fortunate the drop was mild, and I had the lift from collaring boy m, by Friday night I felt sandpapered. Sandpapered to the point that I found Myself looking at My fleece onesie with interest. 

So I put on Princess’ blue budgie onesie, and two pairs of thick wool socks. I continue to be surprised at the emotional heft of having warm feet. How did I never really notice that before? I hung out around the house feeling snuggly, and in time climbed into My delightful buttery soft flannel sheets from boy m last year.  I spent most of Saturday in bed. Sleep, orgasm. Repeat. I think it was seven orgasms by time I got up in the afternoon. It was awesome. So satisfying.

Then it was up and figured out how to shower properly without a shower working in the house. That turned out to be six different steps of washing involving four different pieces of porcelain. The crossdresser I played with at WF had very kindly offered Me some tickets he could not use. So I dabbled in dressing up a bit and used My nice skin care products, never found the makeup (curses, foiled again) but applied some tinted lip gloss. I arranged with a kink girlfriend and we converged at a small house concert of Spanish baroque harpsichord music with accompanying readings, both Spanish and English, with a very well done printed program I still couldn’t manage to follow. We perched on better quality folding chairs in someone’s living room, where I had staked us out with a view of the musician’s hands.  

The reading performer has a small occasional part on a well known TV show, and was seated at our dinner table of 9, so there was more star fuckery than I enjoy. The dude himself was OK and showed signs of being interesting, but the pretentious suck up sitting between us was a pain and dragged the conversation in the most eyeball-glazingly tedious directions. Still, the music was delightful and I have realized that while I am exhausted to death of the Baroque music I know, I love this Spanish stuff. I want both to hear more and learn to play some. I remember I have long wished for a harpsichord, but let us not get carried away.

At one point, a guest at our table proposed a parlor game, we were all to name the book that has had the greatest influence on us. This of course elicited more pretentious displays of erudition. I was second to answer and didn’t care what these people might think so I told the truth: the Anne Rice Sleeping Beauty trilogy. It was not playing the game correctly but it grabbed actor guy’s attention. I definitely saw a flash of recognition and surprise, quickly wallpapered over. 

I gave heels a try last night, they are seldom worn, and I felt it was time to give the back another go at it. I was in pain already on the way home, and awoke quite afflicted today. 

It was a stark contrast with Saturday’s lying in bed. Today was too much pain for orgasms. I got very little done, but managed to get food and hydration sorted, did some but not enough stretching and only of the most passive sort involving lying on a narrow yoga bolster to open the chest and take some of the pull off the neck.  I blessedly found a dose of tylenol after what seemed an endless hunt. Was it the long night on uncomfortable chairs, the heels? The low grade sinus infection? The drop? Con crud? Fighting a bug? I don’t know. Late in the day, I now suspect the asthma has gotten away from Me again, and perhaps some form of PMS is in the mix, but who can tell? A friend suggested I take a percoset and that was a damned attractive idea. Exactly why I don’t keep that shit around.  Because on the rare occasions I have ever been prescribed it, I have always had a moment of: oh yeah. This is why opium dens and opium wars. Woooooow. This shit is gooooood. I wanna feel like this aaaaaaaallll the time. Hmmmm. Zzzzzz.

So it was Tylenol and lots of Eddie Izzard on youtube for Me. The turning point was a long session with the hitachi on My neck and upper body, which made Me notice the asthma might be worse again. Must find those steroids. A chilly rainy grey day spent in bed.  I try not to think of it as one less day of My life left, but perhaps I should. Perhaps I should have fought harder for it. I didn’t.

I’ve been texting a bit with the fine man who gave Me the big O at camp. He has made clear he is not available for deep relationship for Good Reasons. Still we enjoy each other and we have been slipping in and out of interactions that have a little dynamic to them. I couldn’t tell you what it is exactly, just that it seems titillating and a bit scary in a good way and well, Princess does attach like a barnacle. I re-read all My blogs of the last 12 months, for perspective. I’m trying to keep a close eye on it. NRE can be tough to manage esp., when there are strong orgasms involved.  I know that Princess is pretty undefended, and this is new to her. It is uncomfortable for Me in middle age to feel like a middle schooler with a crush, but there you have it. We are talking about meeting up next weekend but who knows, perhaps it will dissolve by then. 

All I can do is what I commit as I do in yoga each week when we are asked to form an intention: I commit to be present, brave, and compassionate.  The rest must take care of itself.


Saturday, February 24, 2018

Lightly Collared

Yesterday, I collared boy m.

he has been in My life about 18 months, and has been the most unexpected of pleasant surprises. A trusted friend put in touch, about the time I was withdrawing from collarspace. he had asked our gay male friend how to find a Dominant and our friend knew *just* the Woman for the job. We met at a Starbucks after I applied pressure to meet in person promptly, and he left an NFL stadium game early in order to comply. he seemed so skittish, I really expected him to ghost yet somehow other boys have come and gone and he has remained steadfast.

Ours is a necessarily constrained dynamic and it took Me a while to reconcile what I wanted with what he realistically could give. Then in the last six months, his life circumstances have been tough and I have watched him struggle. But he remains My dedicated boy and I have come to accept him as My champion. his primary service is encouragement, enthusiasm, adoration, and making Me feel I am equal to any challenge. When boy t left last summer, m was deeply aggrieved. It hurt him greatly to see Me hurt.  he worships Me with his words and his touch and his chivalry when he takes Me out for a special meal together, where we talk non-stop about everything under the sun. Not once have I been relieved to see him go, we always wish for more. Today, he mentioned how much he enjoys the blog and characterized My writing as being complex, like a fine red wine. he is a bit of a poet and as well as a warrior who rises to My defense when life is unkind. I confess I like that clannish response more than I feel I should, I do have a thing for knights. 

Given ample lead time, he makes a fine Easter bunny, and he gives the gifts on the part of My wish list that I don’t expect anyone to give. In illness, he is wonderfully protective and care-taking. he brings Me supplies and good food, and monitors My well being daily.  We wish each other good morning daily, and often good night too. We know where the other is pretty much all the time despite not living together. When things go wrong at the house, he asks whether he can provide a hotel room. When I needed the ER last year, it was his begging that I go and his offer to pay for an Uber that got Me to the hospital. It was the extreme of his concern that convinced Me I needed help.


To fit the nature of our connection and his life demands, I chose a survival bracelet. Yesterday, I solemnly clicked it on his wrist, then removed it and clicked it onto his ankle where it stayed. It fit as if meant for him. This way he can keep it on continuously, despite a wide range of clothing and situations. These types of bracelets are very common especially among men like him, so he can be My proud collared boy in plain sight.  

I know how he aches for that profoundly deep sense of belonging and connection. Both of us were surprised at just how moved we felt, in the moment and for the rest of the day. It was such a shame we could not abandon the office and celebrate fully. I want very much for him to be naked in his collar, servicing Me well with all of his sleek otter body. There are Reasons that’s extremely difficult to make happen but I trust it will from time to time. I trust My boy.