In Xanadu did Kublah Khan a stately pleasure dome decree

Monday, November 5, 2018


As I reflect on being unceremoniously dumped, I'm noticing the similarities with other experiences.  What is this pattern?  How is it that these men who are so wonderful to Me in a subby way seem to have this impressive ability to hurt Me, in such a pinpointed and consistent way?  I think I'm getting to a new layer of the onion.

The book Rethinking Narcissism says everyone is on a scale of narcissism, and most people are in a range where if you understand it, there are ways to appeal to the person's better nature. Narcissism isn't necessarily fatal.  The book begins by recounting the myth of Narcissus, the beautiful boy so entranced with his reflection in the water he falls in love with himself, and becomes the flower.  Narcissus has a friend, Echo.  Echo has no voice of her own, she can only echo Narcissus.

I've reflected for a while that subbies tend to be Echo types and Dominants, especially bad ones, tend to be Narcissus types. And of course, they tend to travel in pairs.  I see this a lot in unhappy marriages where there is an un-acknowledged power dynamic. The wife Narcissus, the subby hubby Echo.  It has explained a lot to Me over the years about how these men get in these marriages, why they stay, why they are attracted to Me, and why they ultimately disappear back into the unhappy marriage, often abruptly.

I think what I've figured out though, is that the Narcissus/Echo duality goes deeper.  It can also be inside each person.  I had noticed that D and I got along so wonderfully, we had essentially zero friction, it was all so easy.  And then BOOM!  out of the blue, he does this wildly hurtful and selfish thing that seems almost calculated to be as painful to Me as possible.  Really, if he had a concern about the relationship, say if he felt things were moving too fast, why not discuss it at some point before actively blowing it up?  It's not far off what happened when My wonderful slave left so abruptly, he was distraught, ended it with minimal explanation, and despite promises of a transition, he was just gone, and he never came back for transition as promised. All he really said was that he had realized he didn't know who he was, but he was sure he was not person he had led Me to believe in our relationship.  Much the same happened with mikey, who had a Narcissus wife, and we were together for most of a year then one day, POOF! he ghosted and that was that.  I still have no idea what happened, and I did ask six months later to meet for coffee so we could smooth things to avoid awkwardness at an upcoming event.  But there was no coffee, and yes, it was very awkward for years.

These three share some traits. 1. They often told Me how awesome and wonderful I was, what a great friend, partner, support, Master.  2. They all were very sweet and seemed  like they'd all struggled with not being accepted for who they are, with not being seen.  3. They all were very easy to get along with, we basically never had any real friction, and any glitch was worked out with ease.  4. They all had a harsh streak in them, usually self directed but also an un-forgiving attitude toward others, a really surprising harshness, and I talked with each of them about compassion and self-compassion. 5. I encouraged all of them to grow, to become more fully themselves, to learn good communication, to articulate boundaries, to learn from Me how to do this, and then apply the skills I taught them in their lives.  6. And then they left, all of them very abruptly, totally, with effectively zero discussion, in what is the most hurtful way possible for Me, to be simply cut off.

I think...  the being told how wonderful I am, how great a partner I am, so much... I think that's a key.  I think it might be a poker tell. Maybe it tells Me they on some level recognize I'm being better to them than they know they will be to Me.  It's not a compliment, it's a confession, it's a statement of guilt.  Maybe they stay as long as they do because it's seductive to be well treated and because they feel guilty at the prospect of leaving someone being good to them.  They want the water, they don't care about the bucket. Perhaps people who have been treated badly feel entitled to treat others badly given the chance, perhaps it's some sort of a growth step for them to get to the point of having enough agency to hurt someone else. Perhaps it is liberating I helped them grow, I happen to be the person available to hurt.  Perhaps it's like differentiation of a child from a parent, there must be rebellion in order to separate and rebellion by definition hurts.  But I don't believe they actually think about it all that much.  I suspect that as it seems to have happened this week, I was not actually a person to them, I was... an idea... a chimera... not a mirage but I seemed a mirage to them.  And so they don't even consider that hurting Me is even possible.  Certainly they are remarkably unmoved by evidence of the pain inflicted.  That's sad in a way, the possibility that I was really present for them, but they didn't realize it.  Like a thirsty man drinking the desert sand at the oasis.

Perhaps when a man is an Echo, he has inside him a suppressed Narcissus.  Maybe by encouraging them to grow and have boundaries and voice and agency, perhaps it allows the switch to flip to Narcissus. Perhaps that explains the bizarre-seeming lack of concern for My feelings despite what had seemed deep intimacy until that point.  Perhaps it explains the shocking level of selfishness in forgetting there's another person present. I don't know how long the Narcissus thing might last for them. I don't know if it is a development stage they pass through or just situational.  Maybe it's sort of a tool, not a great one, but a new tool that's sharp and they don't know how to wield it.  Maybe it's the first time they took that razor sharp knife out of the sheath.  slave t said that to Me once sort of.  he said he had never tried to have an amicable breakup before, there had never been a person so kind to him that amicable parting was a choice, and he simply didn't know how.  In fact, it hadn't occurred to him it was a possibility.  He all but said the only way he knew to leave was through cruelty.

Perhaps Echo and Narcissus is a pendulum that swings. I have noticed that in My own parents.  Both capable of each, both resenting the other for some moments on the outer arc of the pendulum.  My bullying father complaining in quiet moments that he is hen pecked.  My seemingly passive, never angry mother somehow getting him to do All The Things, even as he resents doing them.  They seem in some duality they have not transcended in 50 years.

It makes Me wonder how much I am Narcissus.  I like to think not too much.  Princess maybe is where the Narcissus lives, she is the selfish part.  She is the Echo too, when she is with Unkey, she is like a puppy, all attachment, interested in doing whatever Unkey wants to do, she just wants to be near him.  It is helpful to think of her as being a separate set of impulses from Me.  Master Me is not super comfortable with that puppy behavior.  The General doesn't like it either.  Master Me has some ego investment of course in being a good Master, I'm not immune to playing the saint, I suppose, maybe even the martyr in these cases where I get hurt. I'm learning things too, and I'm happy that the recovery period for these times of having My heart broken by these Echo boys is getting shorter.  Fail Faster, they say in Silicon Valley. I cannot see how the puzzle pieces all fit, but if this pace of Failing Faster continues to increase, one day soon, maybe it will force the paradigm to shift. Maybe it just did.  Maybe I will stop picking these Narcissus boys and Echo boys at all, or pick a version much fainter and less destructive.  This layer of lessons will have all been learned, like advancing in a video game.  Maybe there could be a point of  Healing or heck, why not, Enlightenment. 

Warning Sign

It’s been wonderful spending time with the switchy dungeon guy, Dillan.  Recently he has brought up going to Naughty Noel together, maybe sharing a room at WinterFire. I said I wanted to do a kink glamour photo shoot for My impending big birthday, he said he’d like one of his presents to be a contribution to the cost. I was so, so incredibly touched at the way he jumped on the idea, how big he smiled. I asked if he’d be willing to be there, in the shoot with Me, to help evoke My dominant energy. He was enthusiastic and asked only that his face be covered. It was a beautiful, beautiful, wow moment about two weeks ago. 

We’ve ridden a giant ferris wheel, played puttputt, cooked together, gone to the dungeon, played and fucked and talked up a storm.  I cannot remember the last time I liked someone so much on so many levels all at once. It’s a light dynamic, just in the bedroom. It’s an open relationship, we see other people. Neither of us wants to parent. We talk Deep Thoughts and personal growth.  I’ve been very touched that after we see each other, he consistently texts the next day to say how much he enjoyed being together. He tells me he appreciates how supportive I’ve been as a partner during a bumpy period in his life. He tells me he looks forward to being together again. It’s all so good.

It occurred to Me last week that D and I have been together about three months, we are at about the same point now where I was with ethan when he died.   It occurred to me to mention that to D but I thought no, no reason to live in the past. Focus on today. Of course, life has begun to get a little bit in the way in the three months since we met, he had a little travel, we realized we keep different schedules, I had a crazy-crazy week at work. 55 hours, massive deadline.  I had only just achieved victory late Friday afternoon. I was exhausted and looking forward to our Sunday date. We had decided to spend the afternoon together but he suggested I join him at a kink-foodie Sunday brunch, hosted by a group I have been meaning to plug into. So many events we have in common, it’s great to have a partner in crime, I love having someone to share events with again.

I finally was able to pick up My phone at 6:15pm Friday at the end of the horrific week, and I was excited to share the news that victory was achieved and I found, "I am terminating our relationship."

Summarily dumped.

By text.

Yes, My delightful millennial decided that three months of many forms of intimacy, including fluid bonding, could be adequately terminated with a text. In it, he managed to not apologize. He didn't inquire whether our recent unprotected sex might have had unintended consequences. He helpfully explained that he hasn’t wanted to spend time with Me for a while now. He’s been pretending, showing up from a sense of obligation, hoping the feeling would pass but at the same time recognizing he is not the slightest bit invested in us and has zero interest in working out what he acknowledges are the minor bumps of being together.  That’s where he is.

I responded that I’m surprised to hear this, the kink community is small, and I would really like to have a conversation about this, so that I can try to understand and hopefully get to a place where I can feel a little better about it than I do. I really want to avoid it being terribly awkward every time we bump into each other in the dungeon and at the events in both our orbits.  I'd really like to avoid that.

It’s now been 3 days of silence now since I wrote that, and as the silence has been deepening, Princess has been getting angry.

Princess says: What. The. Fuck.  

You can imagine what the General says.

Apparently, liking someone more than I have in a long time travels hand in hand with stone cold fury. This is interesting. When I moved out at the end of living with My basically common law husband, I didn’t feel angry then. I do now. 

That must be growth.

At ethan's funeral, his mom explained to Me that  e’s doctor had recommended heart surgery -- urgently -- but he had not wanted it. he found another doctor who said he might not need the surgery for a decade, he could wait and see. he could wait for Warning Signs before having the surgery. His mom had had the same heart defect; she had had the surgery; with tears in her voice she told Me after the funeral what she had told ethan several years before it: 

With this kind of defect, sometimes you don’t get a warning sign. Sometimes your first warning sign is Dead.

The whole time I knew D he expressed in general terms that there were things in his life he wasn’t proud of. He wants to be a better person, he is working on it, I admired that about him. I honestly never thought he told Me anything particularly worrying, certainly not compared to what I have seen in others. I was impressed in our talks with his emotional honesty and self-reflection.  I believe that when someone tells you who they are, especially when it is not entirely positive, you are well advised to believe them. So I had watched his behavior for warning signs of a grave problem for quite a while, but I never saw any.  Everything I saw was a pleasant surprise, delightful even.

Then Friday at 6:15pm the first warning sign was Dead.

Princess says: Defective Dillan is Dead as a Dumb Doorknob, Dammit!!

She’s pretty upset. Levelled. Flattened actually. The steamroller hit her, backed up, went over her again. Princess never got her heart broke before and well, Master didn’t see it coming so Master never laid the groundwork. Princess was... very upset Friday.  The General had a lot to say at high volume, to EVERY body. We had to lean a lot on boy m and our BFF a thousand miles away. 

Fortunately, Master already had a first not-camp playdate on the books for Princess and her Unkey the next day, so Master told Unkey that Princess got her heart broke. It took Master some big doing to get Princess to Unkey’s house -- she was all OVER the place -- but once there, she settled down and in the end, she felt a lot better. Unkey was happy to see Princess and it helped her remember that just because *THAT BOY* doesn’t want her, it's not the same as NOBODY wants her. Unkey reminded Princess that OTHER people DO like her and DO want her and Princess REALLY needed to know that cuz she forgot for a little while.  By Sunday night, Princess still felt bruised but she was pretty sure she might live after all, and she realized it’s just that Dillan is a POOPYhead.

Looks like we’re gonna be OK.

Master has a new rule:  No more millennials. This club is Grownups Only.

Monday, September 24, 2018


So many blogs that haven’t been written and no time to pause and catch them up. Nothing to do but jump in again and go. I could have written stories but I’ve been having trouble connecting the dots among the stories, finding Meaning, finding Perspective.

Maybe that’s the victory, in and of itself. Maybe what’s new and important is that lately - since Fusion, since the shamanic thing - I ruminate less.  I’ve figured out how to use these tools and I have momentum. It’s no one big thing I can point to, it’s all the little things, all the course corrections, all the moments when I choose to be brave, emotionally honest and vulnerable, trusting that it matters more to Be Me Right Now than whatever happens next. All the times that what happened next was amazing and awesome and unexpected. All the times I have marvelled how weirdly easy these formerly terrifying or recently uncomfortable things have become. All the times I have felt a sense of flow and been happy for it, wondered why it is happening now and will it last.

Princess is around but the volume has softened, she is useful but no longer feels external. Princess is an inner radio station I can tune into and most of the time away from. Make no mistake, I want to dive deeper with Princess some time soon, see where that could go; but there is only one local person I would do that with right now and he’s busy moving at the moment. Princess is real but a year after the Battlestations blog post, she no longer feels disruptive and scary. We have worked out an arrangement. In a way she has become the testbed where I figure things out and take them for a drive before IRL implementation.  And the whole personal growth and development process has sped up. 

We are AGILE!  (Princess is giggling at her scrummy joke, we are amused.) 

We also are seeing the boy from the dungeon, the boy from the menage a trois. It could even be said we are dating, though the joke is that I picked him up on the side of the road. And it is a new thing. He is kinky, but switchy, he bottoms with Me but is a sadistic top too and also exploring a lot, he’s very much in flux, just had his first anniversary of entering the scene. We share some deeply nerdy traits and experiences, I feel deeply comfortable and surprisingly safe with him for no reason I can articulate satisfactorily.  It’s been two months since we connected that night in the dungeon. I don’t find Myself getting annoyed or tiring of him. It’s the closest thing I’ve had to vanilla dating since, well, ethan I guess.  Vanilla kinky dating... where you both know and understand what it means to be kinky, play kinky in bed but it just feels right, and you otherwise function without a dynamic and do normal life things very well together. It’s what I always thought a good Top-Top dynamic might be like. Two people empowered enough to own their stuff, express their needs and boundaries with compassion, and responsible enough to work at being good partners.

It’s interesting for Me to feel cared for and supported in this way, which I until recently associated with what a slave or deep submissive does... but he does it because he is a kind person who enjoys being kind to me.  It’s interesting for Me to feel I can be supportive of him at a level that is meaningful on his side without leaving Me feeling drained.  Also without Me feeling superior or aloof. It’s a lovely, fuzzy case of NRE.

At the same time, things are shifting. We agreed to go lift weights together. I reached out to an alumni group  for help with My resume. These are not small things that have bubbled up.

We share the usual gripes and even insecurities, but they stay — there’s that word again — in balance. Soon we are back to lobbing puns at each other or talking about other things, meaningful things. There are moments I wonder what to Do with this, and then I remember, there isn’t anything to Do. 

This is Joy. 

Be with it, enjoy it, share it, embrace it, be thankful for it.

I have now met a handful of men his age - Millennials - and found a delightful, unexpected resonance in them.  My married playmate with kids A. My burner boy. Assorted others. And now this D.  I’m seeing in them so much more emotional intelligence, a kind of wisdom even, and a version of masculinity I like so much better. A masculinity I think of as more European, not toxic American. It’s stuff I’ve only seen before in certain enlightened men who have successfully parented. But these guys are getting there independent of the kids, and usually without them. Could it be the Millennial thing overlaps somehow with the Unkey/Big thing?  Who knows.

Sunday, August 19, 2018

Suck It

It began as two boys who both were tentatively available on Wednesday... boy m and the new boy d, whom I met in the dungeon.  I told them that the first to confirm gets the date, and that was d. When boy m tried to confirm, I was initially slightly stressed about letting him down and missing the opportunity, since it doesn’t happen often.  

Then I realized: this is not a bug, it's a feature. 

boy m is My lightly collared bi boy, and d is curious about playing with a man for the first time. I’ve been popping a number of d’s cherries, feels like at least one each visit. And I have tried at least twice to arrange boy play for m with previous partners, but it never panned out.  I adore them both, find them both very attractive, enjoy them both naked. This. Could. Work.

If I dared to try. 

It could go down in flames as have prior attempts. But it looked bolt-of-lightning suddenly promising. 

I sniffed it out, the two of them being willing to meet and play.  Figured out their concerns, got prelim buy off, enough to proceed. They agreed. And neither cancelled.

In a snap, there we were, the three of us, all in one place at one time, on the same page. d brought a dynamite dinner. m brought good wine.  
I had m strip and put on My house uniform slave pants in addition to his survival ankle-bracelet collar.

We assembled dinner together with m half naked, d at the stove, Me directing what to do next in coordination of the activities in a small space. I alternated touching them individually, first out of sight of each other, then within sight, warming each up and bringing them along the path step by step, leading to having m embrace Me from behind while I pulled d into My front. I got to be the filling in the oreo.

It was already Good. As we ate the yummy dinner and sipped from My crystal goblets, using My nice vintage dishes and silverware, I teed up conversation and asked directed questions to deal with all the issues and make sure they each displayed to the other the things I knew would be attractive. We had a lovely dinner of panzanella salad and an italian eggplant with egg dish, just divine, the wine was great. d remembered My dietary preferences without prompting, which touched Me.

d wanted a masculine guy, and m is that. In his 60s, m does crossfit and triathlons, was a military pilot. That was more than enough for d to start cuddling up to Me so I knew he was ready to be sucked by m.

m is a slut and I rather doubt he would have refused any cock I order him to be used by. But it was also the first time we had done this so I was taking nothing for granted. As dinner progressed, I reached out and petted each on the thigh, prompting them to slide their chairs closer.

After dinner I had them clean up and put away, at first just by themselves with Me sitting in luxurious idleness in the living room. Their first time interacting one on one; I listened closely from a remove. Then a question came up that required My presence. So we talked as they work worked, m washed the dishes shirtless in his collar and slave pants. he told d about his collar and what it means, how it works for us.

After another the sandwichy hug, I took them each by the hand and said... dessert is upstairs.

Upstairs, I turned off the overhead lights, turned on the salt lamp for ambiance, ordered them to strip, then pulled them in for a three way hug. m let his hand slide down to d’s cock early on, d didn't reciprocate immediately. I ordered them onto the bed, Me in the middle, and they petted, nibbled, caressed and took turns fingering Me in an amusingly chivalrous way.

I had two hard cocks to choose from, both delicious specimens and each attached to a sexy man I like very much. Both are otters, I like otters. 

It was magical, everything was flowing, there was good conversation and smiles, it was lots of glow. I felt Myself steering events, but with a light hand, keeping everyone on an even keel, including Myself.

At one point I told m to move his hand up one centimeter as he fingered Me and that got Me a nice, medium cum. They later both laughed about Me very specific measurement instructions, which was a sweet moment for the three of us.

After My cum, I ordered m into the middle and he never even laid down, he went straight for d’s cock which was fully hard fast, and d raised his arms over his head in that gesture of surrender I love to see. It must be some kind of mammalian rub-my-tummy reflex.

m threw himself into the task, crouched over, ass in the air, their feet touching which I found very sweet to see.

Then it gets blurry what happened when and how. I watched, I petted m, I laid beside d and talked to him, I dirty talked each of them, making them say what they wanted, what they liked, making them own it. I tortured d’s nipples, even slapping them hard. Such a little nipple pain slut he is, gets him going. Eventually, I got up, gloved up and penetrated m, first one finger, then two. That made him moan a little, d liked the moaning around his cock so I made m moan more. It was getting extremely fun.

Now I was talking about how m needs to be used at both ends, needs to be full of cock in all his holes, and how lucky d was to be the beneficiary of m’s holes... I made sure to hold eye contact with d as I penetrated m, made sure d knew what m was experiencing while he sucked.

I coached d to use his hands to guide m’s head, show m what he needed, make good use of him, they both liked that.

After opening him with two fingers, I put a condom on a good sized dildo and pressed it in firmly. I was telling d how m likes it when a man pushes past his resistance and isn't too gentle, so I wasn't too gentle. m began moaning louder with the prostate stimulation, which d enjoyed. I gave m a little reach around but he had softened. Eventually I had him kneel up and gave control of the dildo to a surprised d... m liked that even better, and I put some lube in my hand as I stroked him soft.  

I quietly told d I was sure m would welcome getting fucked at this point, but d demurred. m let it be known he needed a break and went to the loo. I laid myself on d and asked him if he was ready to suck cock for the first time, right now. he eagerly said yes.

When m returned, I ordered him to the middle of the bed, d quickly got into position. m was not hard after taking a dildo and having a bathroom break, so he encouraged d and let him know it felt good even though he wasn’t hard yet. d persisted in figuring out how to get m’s sizable cock in, how to vary his attentions. m gave him good feedback and soon d had m breathing heavily, his arms above his head, Me along side kissing and petting him and interweaving My fingers with his, sometimes reaching to run My fingers through d’s hair or hold his arm for a bit so he felt connected.  m would periodically offer a sentence about the different facets of sucking cock... sometimes it is just about cock, having a cock in your mouth, needing a cock in your mouth... sometimes it is about cum, you want him to cum... sometimes...

As d sucked and m alternately moaned and talked, something unexpected happened. It took on a quality of timelessness, the older man teaching the young inexperienced one how to please him. For a few seconds, it felt deeply ancient to me. Suddenly felt very much the window I have long wanted into the gay men’s community, watching older men teach younger men, watching a Daddy be a Daddy to his boy, in the way of the ancient band of Greek warriors who were lovers.

I offered d a break after a while, to rest his fatiguing jaw, but he declined. Eventually they took turns back and forth. I should have made them 69. I fondled and petted them, My two beautiful pleasure boys together. 

I reminded m, as he spoke about sometimes it is the cum, that he was not allowed to cum until he asked and was granted permission. In time I heard: Miss, may I please cum?  

I asked d if he was ready for m to cum and he affirmed, so I commanded m to cum, talked them through the cumming, and d kept steadily to his task, drinking him in without hesitation.  When it was complete, I motioned d to join us and he lay on top of Me and m, and we caressed and petted and held him. After I moved him to my right side, I turned and congratulated him, told him I was proud of him, told him I just knew he would be a good little cocksucker. he blushed a little and cuddled into me further. I turned to my left and kissed m, stroking him and smiling. We lay like that a delicious good while, floating together in a pink salt lamp haze of happy hormones, Me held by two arms on both sides, completely embraced with just the right pressure, alternating back and forth between two men I adore. m kissed Me tenderly on the forehead. It was as if I was being truly hugged in the way need, for the first time ever. 

Eventually I had to ask the time, m had a hard stop that I respect. The clock gave us just a few more minutes then I had to order him up and dressed. I popped a dress back on and after a half hug followed up with a hale and hearty, manly handshake (“Great to meetya, man!”), m and I went down stairs, and I saw him out the door.

d and I spent another two hours cuddling, playing a little more, processing, talking, laughing, until it was time for him to go too. In this time, we each said: I like you. The last go-round he added after a pause... a lot.  I wanted another cum but some switch had flipped, maybe probably I was just replete with all that had happened. It is enough for now.

d dressed and buttoned only one button of the shirt, as he sailed out the door, I felt dimly that his hands were too empty. Five minutes later I realized I didn’t given him back the salad bowl from the dish drainer or the box of things on the desk. No matter.

he is making Me pizza Friday.

I feel something important happened here. Not just that after 25 years I finally was able to watch close up as two attractive men pleasured each other. The Princess work paid big dividends tonight. Here are some of the ways:

  • I didn’t overstress about having double booked them
  • I quickly realized that the problem was an opportunity
  • I dared to dream it could happen. I named it. I risked it.
  • I communicated what I hoped for and coordinated a willing threesome
  • I didn’t particularly worry about it going badly in the hundred ways I was fully aware of
  • I did a lot - I did everything right - to create the conditions for success, and I did it with ease and grace. Even the 30 minutes of fast house cleaning  between work and their arrival was ok
  • I remained present in the moment, present with each boy, with Myself, and with them together. 
  • I stayed in My body and allowed myself to be pleasured by two men, allowed Myself to relax into that experience
  • I didn’t do anything much that I didn’t truly want to do
  • I teed up the questions that needed to be teed up; I engaged in the kind of deeply intimate leadership I’ve maybe not been good at earlier points
  • I led each boy in the way particular to his wiring, balanced with consideration for the other
  • And I held onto Me, what I want, throughout. I kept enough focus on Me.

Also, I really really felt Masterful having two boys serving Me in the kitchen and doing a good job. I would love to be accustomed to that. I felt ready in those moments, ready to allow more than one person at a time to love me, in all my glorious weird wonder.  Maybe in some small way I didn’t notice, on some level I have been dismissing each individual boy as a fluke, an outlier. But two of them together working in tandem like that, wow, that felt very real. That was an almost out of body experience of feeling so loved and supported I was floating.

I was Sally Fields inside right then: You like me. You really like me.

“Everyone likes me. I like people. People are kind to Me.”


Something very deep in Me and Princess, something I didn’t know was there, got something it has really needed.

It was only afterward that I thought of it as a menage a trois, Fmm. I really had not focussed on the idea of them both pleasing Me. In the planning, I had thought of it as Me procuring what they wanted so I could watch, fulfillment of a wish I first made half a lifetime ago. I thought that’s what I wanted. But looking back, what was most powerful was being held by them, one on each side of Me. Held, caressed, pleasured, cuddled, honored.

And with the Princess vulnerability, I was relaxed and received it all. On some level, I felt hugged for the first time in My life. I could FEEL it, it felt more right than one person hugging Me ever has. That was strange and awesome. I can only imagine what dormant early wiring that might have activated.  

I thought I might have let go of the Master energy or lost it when Princess arrived, but it came roaring back, somehow more real than before. More... authentic. 

I spent the next 24 hours, including a whole day at work, on clouds. High, actually. Definitely a neurochemical high. I laughed in the office maybe 8 times that day, that never happens. It felt so good to laugh so easily, to feel joyous laughter just bubbling up out of Me like from a spring or fountain. I would love to feel that way all the time.  

It was delicious. 

Saturday, July 21, 2018

Dungeon Developments

After a moderately miserable few weeks in the office, I left “early” at 5pm Friday cuz I had over 50 hrs on the books. Then I spent two hours grappling with the office garage’s valet which had managed to lose My car key, leaving Me unable to drive away. So a valet drove Me home in Friday rush traffic get the spare key; drove Me back to the office in rush; so I could drive home in rush. It was delightful. 


So I came *this close* to not going to the dungeon event that began at 9pm Friday night but in the end, sucked it up. It had been too long. I need to get out more. I let Princess wear a new pair of shittily made yet cute overall bibs - black - from China and a white tank top, and flipflops. We went commando both top and bottom which felt a little naughty, and two of the blinking camp glow bracelets. It didn’t scream little but it was hardly Dommey. You could maybe read it both ways but the intention was to go to this event with demos and let Princess try some stuff. I also wanted to sniff out a couple people about exploring littles. That got no traction, but I did get to be the first person to enjoy a knife play demo, first time I’ve bottomed to knives. I learned I don’t enjoy “point work” but I like broad edge of the blade and I like temperature play mixed in. I don’t like it to be fast, I prefer slower and more massagey/ sensual. I’d like to try it again with someone I feel real connection to, when there isn’t so much distraction.  I got off the table happy and a bit altered, but oddly with a sudden headache. I tried to be social, I hydrated, friends I expected to see weren’t there. The ones I did see were occupied with Things. I ended up sitting alone in the social area on the sofa for quite a while, feeling at loose ends. It did give me a nice vantage point on the elevated platform where the spanking demos were happening and I got to perv a cute boy as he stripped, bent over, then got on the bench, I got to enjoy watching his balls dangle and bottom get smacked. Made me feel like a dirty old lady.

After a while I decided I felt slightly better, made note to better negotiate aftercare for experimental scenes, and betook myself to a chair in the front check-in area, where there were more people-watching and chatting opportunities. Wasn’t there long when a cute younger guy came out as I had, and gave me a hard, slightly confused stare.  That triggered  a can-I-help-you from me, he apologized for confusing me with someone as he was floaty from just getting spanked, I told him I had enjoyed the view, and invited him to sit next to me, whereupon he basically dropped to the floor and within moments I was petting him. In time I invited him back inside to the more comfortable sofas, and we spent most of the evening together there, him mostly curled up and me mostly petting as we talked.

He turns out to be a sweet and fun masochist whose nipples can take quite a lot, and while there was a good D/s vibe we also discovered professional similarities and compatibilities and had a fairly deep and meaningful conversation. We also both remarked how delightful this connection was, as we both needed it. Just before the Barry Manilow kicked in to kick everyone out at 2am, I had climbed on top of him to give him a double nipple assault, and made him beg a little to be hurt, and I teased him with the fact I was turned on by it. A lovely and most unexpected outcome for the evening. He walked me to the car, sent me a fet invite, and seems to intend to come to camp.

It was wonderful but I know nothing may come of it. I already know real reasons nothing may come of it. But what matters much more is that Princess and I successfully played in a way where nobody but me saw the duality at work. Playing with this nice boy felt organic, it felt like me, not Master vs Princess. And I was a little different: more relaxed, more forthright about what I do and don’t want, more willing to give something like giving an instruction or order easily, more go with the flow because I want to, noticeably less mental overthinking static. It was good. It was a little odd for me but tremendously successful even if nothing else happens with this nice boy. That’s a big victory for My little.

It makes me wonder a little about the shamanic experience. I do feel I experienced Princess less as a separate person last night and more as just a variety of in-the-moment impulses that I heeded. It feels better integrated and assimilated.  Different, a little unfamiliar, but good and a promising sign.  It’s what I have hoped would happen. Yay, us!

Yes, definitely an encouraging visit to the dungeon. I’ll be showing up there more.

Sunday, July 15, 2018


So much has happened in the last few months. Major house projects (tankless water heater; bluestone patio; now a new AC unit). A mind blowing Fusion that deserves its own post. The slightly sad conclusion that things are not as they once were with j and perhaps never will be again, and it’s gotta be ok and it’s time to name that, if only inside Myself. The body-based therapist that turns on light bulbs over My head every visit, illuminating life, kink, and increasingly job. Some major asthma problems. The garden which is so much better with the wood planters, the magnificent tomatoes, the much heightened pleasure of it all working better because of evaporating slower. Visits from parents and some talks about what comes up in therapy, what happened in childhood. Finally getting four new tires after constant tire related hassle (at the same time I feel I’m “suddenly getting traction” in life generally).  Hating work, thinking I really must leave, fantasizing about quitting in a spectacular, unprofessional way. Changing perceptions of things I have been sure of (I had FUN and ENJOYED a ClubFem meeting last night... wut?). New people in My life both subbie and not.  An Oh-why-not shamanic healing ceremony that I both don’t quite believe in but found very on point, and swear has had a definite effect... It’s all personal growthy, occasionally angsty, but super positive. I don’t need to air all the details of the deep trauma work here but no problem because it is happening so fast now that some days I want off the merry go round, and I definitely cannot write about it fast enough. I’m also less interested than I used to be in documenting it. I’m more interested in living than memorializing or intellectualizing right now.

I’ve even debated lately whether Princess needs her own blog, or sub-page of this blog.

What I realized this morning, waking up slowly, after buying the AC unit, the four tires, working 9hrs on a weekend pretty pissed off, yet having a strangely fun time at ClubFem after work is... it’s all quite simple.

This is about authenticity.

The child is confronted a choice:  be yourself and risk rejection by the people who are your world, whom you need to survive... or sacrifice who you want to be for the comparative physical safety of not being overtly rejected (disappointment, disapproval, punishment) by the adults around you. As a kid, I had to choose attachment over authenticity in a big way; those were the only choices available to me then under those circumstances.  It has taken Me this much time, work, therapy, experience, and yes, Dominance to reach a point where I can begin to see that in a given situation - especially an intimate one - I often still choose to betray Myself. It happens so deeply and reflexively that I didn’t have awareness of it. But now I do.

I’ve had to explain Princess to several confused playmates who know Me as a Dominant, who think Littles are icky and incesty.  Here’s My best answer. Princess is Id. She is the voice of My innate, authentic impulses and longings.  She’s tremendously valuable.

The General is valuable too, as the Sam Kineson inflected voice of My fears, a signal of where I expect to be hurt. The Shadow is the whisper of all the choices I make to avoid conflict, to preserve attachment and sacrifice Myself for perceived safety. It’s all so helpful and MasterMe is figuring it out fast.

This growing is disruptive to be sure, but as the Chinese know, chaos contains opportunity. I may lose people I really care about because the changes seem too weird. At the same time, the changes are bringing new friends, new activities, and new joy to stale activities. Hopefully, it leads to a new and happy work world too.

I’ve gotta live and be who I am, in every moment. Otherwise, why be here at all? Like Andy says in Shawshank Redemption, it comes down to this: Get busy living or get busy dying.  

It used to happen that what I wanted felt irrelevant to My life; it used to be that to allow Myself what I wanted I needed a week’s worth of Congressional testimony to somehow PROVE that what I wanted was OK to want; was in fact the RIGHT thing to want; that if you thought about it hard enough it was logically the ONLY thing it was reasonable to want.  In even the smallest decision, the stakes associated with failure were so high.  It’s not that I didn’t know what the want was, but it was so often drowned out by the cacaphony inside My head shouting I shouldn’t want it at all... I shouldn’t have any wants in the first place, should take up less space in the world because the world didn’t want Me, and in fact, it might be best for everyone if I could manage to make Myself invisible.  And God help Me if what I wanted involved any form of joy, pleasure, or happiness. 

Fucking Calvinism.

The simple fact I wanted it didn’t matter, unless I could prove it, and OBTW unless I also could get it without inconveniencing anyone else or drawing too much attention to Myself or spending too much money. 

Dr Gabor Mate did Me a big favor by saying that an observable event is not the trauma. The core of trauma is that it causes you to lose yourself. 

Now I know that what I want is everything. What I want is an expression of Me; there is a Me shaped hole in the universe and My only real purpose is to fill it. I’ve gone too long already.

I didn’t think I needed to learn this. I thought I was living a really independent life, most people would say so. But self-rejection has been so deeply embedded in My operating system software that I didn’t know it was there. I suspected it a few years ago when I first started working on better receiving service. I got a lot better at it in the surface manifestations with My slave. But in the depths, I have long been in many ways inauthentic to Myself, refusing to allow Myself to be whatever My internalized critics disapprove of.  That stuff has not been even seeing the light of day where other people might respond. That’s My work right now, to find out what got buried.

Last night at ClubFem coming out of the pool, I was chilly, and as usual, I was not completed prepared to care for My basic physical needs, so wrapped in the second, big dry towel, I was still cold to the point of almost shivering. There was a nice subby boy near Me, a guy I’ve chatted with many times, I know he likes Me and wants to serve Me, but I’ve never let him in further and I couldn’t explain why, except perhaps that I am put off by how much he likes Me. Standing next to him in the smalle kitchen,  we bumped and I noticed he was wonderfully warm, while I was so cold. I told him I was going to take some of his heat. I let him hold Me as we stood, I let him warm Me and I relaxed into his happiness in holding Me. Then I turned around and let him warm the other side.  I noticed My need, allowed it, had compassion for it, accepted the help easily, enjoyed it, and felt safe enough to not worry or be pressured into more. That’s a victory. In the past I would have chosen to stay cold, after all, it wasn’t gonna kill Me, right?

That’s Me right now, working on being nicer to Princess, working on not doing the low-grade self abuse thing any more. If Princess tells MasterMe that she’s cold, MasterMe will find a way to warm her up. And now I know that can happen inside of My dominance.  It’s what I have hoped would happen. Nobody even needs to know Princess exists inside Master.

My theme for this phase is: exploring all the things I do not allow Myself.  It’s proving to be a much deeper excavation than I expected. But I’m hopeful, and continue to believe this is bedrock. I am approaching the finish line. And frankly, I’m a long way down the road, much further than a lotta people get. It’s nice to feel I can be proud of that. 

When your computer operating system software has an OEM defect in it, it can be there a long time doing damage you cannot see. It takes vigilance and expertise to spot it. Once spotted, an expert needs to create better code, the right code. You’ve gotta tear some stuff apart way down deep, maybe in the BIOS, you get the new stuff in, reboot the system a couple times along the way. There will be some false starts, and you’ll have to persist. Then when you’re done, well, on the surface it may not look all that different. But you know what it was, you know what it took, and you feel better, you have confidence knowing it’s fixed and now it works. 

That’s the gig.