A good bye - for now?

Might gave me scabies just after we started seeing each other. I didn't get any symptoms for weeks, and didn't realize that's what it was until a few weeks more. But we eventually found out what it was and treated it. We took EVERY precaution, even going so far as doing a THIRD treatment round to ensure that we were both well and truly scabies free. I also treated Saint and my kids, and really, really don't want to have to put them through anything like that again if I can do anything to help it. 

Back when Might got it, he notified his family. He also notified them when we did our second treatment round. Because you're supposed to "notify" the people you're in close contact with. However, they didn't actually go through any treatment. Because the advice given by his doctor said to "notify", and apparently people are unable to google or think for themselves or some shit. 

The result is that his nephew now has scabies. He babysits his nephews once every week, so we have to assume that's how they got it. And we now have to consider Might, and by proxy me, as "close contacts" to someone with scabies. Again. We have to assume we have been infected, and treat ourselves and our belongings accordingly. That means ANOTHER two rounds of besylbensoat, as well as sanitizing the house and all our belongings. 

In itself, this isn't impossible to deal with. However, Might's brother and his family are using Permetrin (Nix) to treat the scabies. This is what you're recommended to use, but we KNOW that this scabies has survived Nix once. Because that's what Might used the first time he treated himself, before we even met. We also KNOW that this isn't an isolated incident, the scabies in this region of Norway is KNOWN to be semi-resistant to Nix. 

So I can't trust that they're treating the scabies properly and actually getting rid of it completely. Honestly, the fact that they didn't treat back when Might first got infected is itself a red flag to me. It says that they aren't taking this seriously enough. Them getting infected now, just proves that my degree of paranoia isn't an over-reaction. 

I strongly recommended they use Bensylbensoat, but they were advised by their doctor to use Nix so that's what they'll continue with. My guess is that Nix will probably knock the infection back, kill many of the scabies but not all. And then it'll rear it's ugly head again in a month or more. Of course they could get lucky. Nix could work. But I can't gamble my kids health on luck. 

I can't trust them. Might will not stop seeing his family, obviously. So I have to treat them, and by extension him, as plague bringers. Until they've all (parents and grand parents included) been treated with Bensylbensoat and sanitized their house and belongings properly.. Or until I can be CERTAIN that the scabies is gone.. I can't have physical contact with Might. 

I just can't gamble with my kids health. And that feels like a fucking horrible choice to make. 

So tonight I packed up all my belongings and left Might. We hope to be able to salvage our relationship, keeping in touch through Discord and having video chats and such. But this could mean we won't have intimate physical contact until next year. That's 2,5months. As long as we've been together. I'm not sure our relationship can survive that long apart. 

Leaving him today felt like a good buy. I'm just not certain if it's the permanent or temporary kind. 

Spanked - and fighting it

Just a quick note before writing the post I really need to write: 

Might locked me up again yesterday, and I wasn't terrified like last time. So it's obviously a question of habituation. I need to prove to my mind that this isn't dangerous. That I CAN do this, even though it scares me. 

Might also spanked me yesterday. Hard. By far harder than he did under guidance from T a few weeks ago. I eventually used a safeword, because I could feel my head fighting it too much. I wasn't able to let go the way I wanted. I simply need more practice.

He did really well, though. I was surprised by his willingness to try stuff that is obviously quite scary for him. I hope we get to try again sometime. 

How to prove to me that I'm not in control?

I recently had cuffs locked on me, and it obviously triggered something. I think this is an example of what I need, to be able to embrace a more submissive mind state: I need it pounded into me that I am not in control. I cannot escape, cannot stop what's happening, I just have to accept it. Take it. There are several ways to get that point accross, I think. Might and I are exploring some of them: 

1. Bondage, whether tight ropes around the torso or locked cuffs restricting movement and agency, is a very obvious one. 

2. To be made to suck on something, whether a dick or a finger, without being able to pull out.

Might did that to me today, slowly pulling on my collar to make me take his finger further and further down my throat. It was amazing. All my focus was on breathing, accepting it, and not to gag. 

3. To be tied down and fucked, or fingered, or overstimulated, or in some other way used. To make it seem like there's no care made for my horniness or desires or preferences. Just used, the way he wants to use me, for his pleasure. We did something like this when I was attached to "the rig" the first time, plowing my body into the mattress as he fucked me from behind. 

However, it doesn't work super well. Might is on anti-depressants that make him less sensitive and makes it super hard for him to orgasm. So fucking me isn't really something he does for his own sake, and we both know that. 

Really wish it wasn't so. I would love to have him fuck my brains out, cum inside of me, and then just let me stand there, dripping and horny as hell. Unable to move or satisfy myself. A mindless sextoy.

4. Another method would be pain. Impact play, or a ton of pinching or similar. However, I don't think Might is ready for that quite yet. We're just starting to make him accustomed to give commands, in stead of making requests. He doesn't have the self-confidence or the experience yet.

For me to be willing to take a large amount of pain, I would need to be made to take it. I honestly want to be made to take it, but if I'm "in my right mind" why on earth would I want to hurt? Whether by physical manhandling or verbal commands, I would have to be commanded or forced to take the pain. Forcefully told to stand still and painfully punished if I don't, or simply grabbed and held hard where he wants me. Regardless of my struggles, moans, cries or curses. If I think he will stop, if I simply tell him "no" or scream out in pain, then it won't work. I need to be made to take it.

I want us to get there, though. To be beaten until I break, start crying, and then beaten a fair bit more.. That's something I really want. There's a release in crying like that. A yielding. I want to be made to yield. To be forced to yield. 

Out of all of the ways mentioned here, there is no way more efficient than pain, but I can't get there on my own. Can't get there by topping from the bottom, like I do a lot these days. I need his help, his hand, his voice, his mind, his control, his authority. And he isn't ready for that quite yet. I'm not absolutely sure I am either. He's developping quickly, though. Learning and growing every week. And so am I. So I hope we'll get there.

Locked

A lot of blog posts from me lately, but that's because I'm having so many new and interesting experiences. I'm writing because I'm excited, not because I'm upset. 

Today, Might and I did something we've been talking about for a while: He chained my hands behind my back, as we were just doing everyday things in his appartement. Well, it started out everyday, with me attempting to tidy and make him coffee and such.. However, it quickly escalated. I know he gets turned on by watching me helplessly struggle and squirm, which in turn turns me on. He knows I get turned on by the bondage and the exposure, which turns him on more, and around we go.

I've had my hands attached behind my back with him a few times before, for example at the party last weekend. The difference this time, was that the leather cuffs were locked. I also asked him to lock my collar on me. Locked with padlocks. Inescapable. 

I could feel myself freaking out. Heart palpitations, cold sweat, shortness of breath, it felt exactly like a (small) anxiety attack. I knew I could very easily dissociate, escape it all, just go cold and detached. However, I refused to let myself do that. I wanted this. I asked for this. Yes, I was freaking out, but I could also feel sub mode lurking behind it. Fighting towards it felt like swimming upstream, trying not to drown on the way.

Even as I'm writing this, I can feel the anxiety again. My head is pounding, I keep forgetting to breathe, I have this urge to close the laptop and just leave this entire situation. This is obviously a big deal to me.  

It was the locks that did it. Knowing that I couldn't just wiggle out in a couple of seconds, or open some buckle or something. At the same time I was fairly comfortable, as opposed to when we've done similar things with handcuffs. So the discomfort didn't take over, I could allow myself to just exist in that trapped space. 

Might handled me so well. I don't think he fully understood what was going on with me, but he was attentive and gave me exactly what I needed: Physical touch, a way to anchor myself to something outside of my own anxious body. At one point he even said it: "You can relax, I'm the one in control now." Loved that. 

We eventually moved to the bedroom, where he blindfolded me and moved my hands to the front. Locking them to my collar, so I still couldn't touch him or really touch much of anything. Then he touched me, fingered me. I just had to lie there, and at first I felt terrible for not giving anything back. However, that's sort of the point when you're in bondage: You do just have to lie there and take it. 

Eventually, he placed the Satisfyer against my clit and (with a few pointers), made me orgasm. Overstimulating me afterwards, like he often does, he made me thrash and moan. Afterwards, he placed my hips on a wedge, so my legs got tipped over my head, and fucked me. Again making me moan, as his dick slowly and firmly stroked my g-spot. Later, I also got to suck on his dick for a bit, and really loved how hard he was and the taste of his precum. I love those clear and obvious signs that this turns him on too. He wants this, as much as I do. 

The entire session happened fairly organically, one thing leading to another in what seemed like a natural way without major breaks along the way. Might wouldn't have been able to execute anything like this a month ago, or even two weeks ago. The growth in him is amazing to see, and I feel privileged to be a part of it.  

Want to trust, want the ropes

Might and I participated in a couple of shibari classes last weekend, and today we practiced a bit of what we'd learned. Arms tightly bound to my chest, one leg bent and tied towards my chest also, it's without doubt the most restricted I've ever been by ropes in my life. I loved that, and really want to practice more. 

However, the most wonderful thing, to me, was how he used his arms, body and the rope to really make me FEEL something. Not just sit there and be tied, but actually have a shibari experience. I can't remember ever being on the receiving end of that sort of bondage before. I've seen it done lots of times, I've done it myself as a rigger.. But to sit there with my eyes closed and just breathe, as I could feel him tying me tighter and tighter.. It was a completely new, and very, very interesting experience. 

I've been the rope bottom for shibari-style bondage a few times before. Most recently during a photoshoot with a very experienced rigger. However, that was very business-like. The ropework was expertly done, but I was just a model. I wasn't supposed to feel anything. I've also been tied up by Saint once, during a shibari weekend. He tied me in a TK / box tie, and I still have the pictures from that day. Back then, I remember freaking out. I didn't panic, but wasn't far from it. I worried something similar might happen today, but it didn't. 

I'm not sure exactly why I freaked out back in 2017. Perhaps just because it was a socially exhausting experience, with lots of semi-unfamiliar people in a small space.. Combined with lots of learning and physically strenuous activities, I was mentally very tired. However, I don't think that's the entire story. 

I was a lot more uptight back then. Unable to receive at all, without panicking. Unable to just be present in my body, feeling the physical sensations and the emotional impact. What has changed? Egg crack. I realized I was trans. After that, there's been a gradual habituation to receiving. The first time Novice did anything to me, while I just lied there, I struggled to stay present. After a while, that got easier. While I still have to work on this, being the bottom for Might isn't a struggle. The struggle now, is to let myself be the sub. 

Today, I could feel rope space lurking there. Could feel myself sniffing at it, trying it on, without completely being able to embrace it. I think, I hope, that rope space might give me a "back door" into sub space. A safer way to practice letting myself go in his arms, to be present whilst not being in control. That scares me, and I really, really want it.

Might needs more practice handling the ropes, and handling my body. So that I don't have to worry about falling over, or having ropes slip off.. And I need more practice receiving... Anything. Accepting the tightness and the restriction without freaking out. Breathing, just allowing myself to be.  

My poor self-esteem gets in the way too, I think. I need to accept that he actually wants to touch my body, wants to play with me. That I don't have to feel bad. Tying me up or playing with me, isn't an unwanted chore to him. He wants this as much as I do. He clearly enjoys cuddling with me, he comes to me for a kiss before leaving the house, he says he enjoys touching me and playing with me. His words and his actions match. I really, really want to believe him.. But I can't yet. Not fully. I'm too worried the nasty, mean voices in my head are right. I worry he'll end up like Novice, shying away from any sort of physical contact with me, just as I start trusting that he really wants me. That thought terrifies me.

How can I truly let go, whether into rope space or sub space, when I'm unable to trust that I'm even wanted?
How can I trust that I'm wanted? 
How can I trust?

I wish I knew. Because I really, really want to. 

Paradise interrupted

Arriving at the party last night around 8pm, my immediate impression was that the music was way too loud. It should have been turned down by 50% at least, preferably to 25% of its current volume. 

A DJ at a bdsm party is typically a red flag, in my opinion. It's great to have some background music at a party, but there's nothing a DJ can do that a somewhat curated Spotify playlist can't do just as well (or better. And certainly cheaper). A bdsm party isn't primarily a place for dacing, we're not the clubbing scene. To play, you need to be able to communicate. Preferably also to be able to pick up small sounds like increased breathing and light moans. Such play just isn't compatible with loud music. Even socializing last night was hard, as we had to stand really close and shout to be heard.

After most people had arrived, the rules and some other information was presented by the organizers. Then they'd scheduled a show. It was supposed to start immediately after the intro, but I think it took another 30 minutes. So by then, the clock had passed 9pm. I think it was closer to 9.30pm. 

The show was a non-kink related drag show, and had ridiculous volume. Way, waaay higher than what we'd previously been exposed to (which had already been too high).. Along with bright, flashing lights, it got too much for me. Even with earplugs and eyes closed, at the very back of the room, I still felt completely overwhelmed. So Might and I made our escape outside and hid in the wardrobe tent.

Going back inside once the show was over, the volume had been somewhat turned down compared to at the beginning. Still too loud, but just bearable. So Might and I start to play, like I outlined in my previous post. At the end, we were in a dark corner, immediately next to the stage, underneath one of the speakers; The only place we found room. Another couple played just a few feet to the left of us, along the stage edge. Someone else were doing shibari, just behind us to the right. 

Then, as we're in the middle of a really intense, amazing session, and I'm literally two minutes from orgasm, the show starts up again. Completely unannounced, out of the blue, we're blasted by unbearable loud music and flashing lights.

Might first tries to cover my ears and I try to keep going, but there was absolutely no way I could keep any sort of focus through that. I stopped him and said I had to get out. He unhooked my feet from the spreader bar in record speed, I grab a jacket and my kilt, and remove the vibrator from my crotch. Leaving everything else, we beeline out of there. Again. 

Interrupting a session in the middle like that is incredibly uncomfortable. You're forcefully removed from one mind space and dumped into a different one, without any warning or agency. It's mentally really unpleasant, and can worse case be dangerous. 

My immediate response to the situation was anger, furious anger. Why the FUCK did they do that to us? Who on earth thought that would be a good idea, unannounced, without any pre-planned schedule, once a lot of people were engaged in play? I was raging, really high on adrenaline, overstimulated out of my mind, and incredibly, incredibly disappointed. Sad, so, so, so sad, to have had such an incredible session brutally interrupted. I knew I'd drop from this, and I did, almost immediately.

About half an hour crouched under blankets in front of a space heater, ranting a fair amount, crying a bit, a bit of water and a snack, and I was able to fuction. Might took excellent care of me, giving me exactly what I asked for and needed. I was so grateful to have him there, able to take care of me. Going through drop when alone really sucks. 

A guy loosely associated with the organizers checked, and assured us that this show was the last.. By then, the clock was 11pm and the party would finish at 1am. So we could theoretically have had two hours of (hopefully) uninterrupted play time left. 

However the night felt completely ruined and I was mentally exhausted. All my nerves were on the outside of my body, and I was suffering these enormous, unpredictable mood swings; One moment feeling absolutely livid and the next being heartbroken. (Typical of drop, but a drop as bad as I've probably ever had.)

So we gathered our things, said our goodbyes and called a taxi. Once back at Might's space, we ate some chocolate, I drank a cup of tea (like I often do when dropping), and then we went to bed. Exhausted, but with a lot of pent up energy, we each masturbated (separately), and then promptly fell asleep.

Over 24 hours later, I still feel abnormally tired and a bit jittery. However, the worst has definitely passed. I now worry for Might. He has been preoccupied with taking care of me, and hasn't let himself relax or collapse yet. I hope he's also able to process this all in a good way.

This experience fucking sucked, but it wasn't our fault. There's absolutely no way we could have predicted or prevented it from happening. In the end, I want the focus to be on the positive stuff as much as I can. Our play was amazing, Might and I are exploring some extremely interesting stuff togeter, and I hope we get to do a lot more play in the future. 

Exposed, bent over and fondled

Might is sitting on a flimsy plastic chair, and gets me to sit on his lap facing him. I'm scared the chair will break, but I'm placed straddling his knees so most of my weight is carried by his legs.

He puts his hand under my kilt, and opens the zipper of the fetish briefs I'm wearing. Opening it all the way, so my entire sex is exposed. 

The kilt covers me, so no one can see. From the outside, we're just a couple kissing on a chair. However, I can feel his fingers touching my clit. Making me grow so wet, so quickly. Then he repositions his legs a bit, spreading my legs further appart. I can feel airflow on parts of me that are never exposed in public. I moan into his mouth.

Later, as were standing around talking with people.. My hands are chained together on my back. Might is standing behind me (he's tall so he easily looks over my shoulder). I touch his dick through his trousers, and he discretely opens his fly for me. Letting me caress him, as were talking and laughing with another couple. 

Later still, he gives me water to drink while my wrists are tied on my back. I know he really gets off on making me helpless like that. So do I. 

Eventually, we find a corner for a more proper play session. He blindfolds me, removes my kilt, opens the zipper on my briefs, and tries to touch and kiss me. I playfully move away from him, still blindfolded. He attaches my hands to a metal railing, and places a spreader bar between my ancles attached to leather cuffs there. Asking me if I'll behave now. Not giving me much choice in the matter.

Then he just... Touches me. I stand there, bent forward, legs spread way open, ass towards the entire crowded room. As he fondles me and makes me moan. Sure we're in a dark corner, and even open the briefs give some shade.. But there can be no doubt what he's doing to me. However, I'm blindfolded, tied in place, and so it's not my fault. Not my responsibility. Also, I can't see who is watching or what their facial expressions are. Managing this social situation, has been taken out of my hands. I just have to stand there are recive. Enjoy. Moan.

He touches my clit, but he also touches everything else. Inspects my body, from head to toe. Sticks his finger in my mouth. Really takes his time just touching me. Eventually, he unhooks my hands from the railing and gives me my Satisfyer. Telling me to put it between my legs, to try to orgasm. 

We'd talked about this. I'd written a fantasy extremely similar to this. Still, I didn't think it would be easy. However legs chained in place, just barely being able to hold the toy firmly between my legs.. Leaning my entire body against Might, wrapping my arms around him and moaning into his chest.. Blindfolded, hips jerking, not caring anymore who were watching or what they might think.. I felt closer and closer to orgasm.

Stuff went horribly wrong at this point, to no fault of any of us. However IF we'd been able to continue, might had planned to hold me firm as I came. Afterwards he'd planned to place me on all fours on the floor, attached to "the rig" (as we're calling it) by ancles, wrists and collar. And then probably kept on touching me, but also perhaps tickled or pinched me. Made me fight my bonds, made me try to escape him and fail. He gets off on watching me be helpless. So do I.

I really, really want a repeat of this session. Until it went really badly and had to be interrupted, it was without doubt the best session I've had this year. And among the best and most exhibitionistic session as a sub/bottom I've had ever, as far as I can recall. It was AMAZING. Might was amazing. 

I want more. Probably only in his apartment or something, just.. I want to play more on the bottom / submissive side. It's sooooo fucking hot. 

Embracing homoerotic masculinity

I went to a bdsm party last night, wearing a braided metal collar, a black kilt and a leather bulldog harness. Underneath the kilt, were men's fetish briefs with a zipper that could open all the way front to back. Might was with me, leash clipped onto my collar. I had leather cuffs on both wrists, and parts of the night, while we were socializing, my hands were chained together on my back. 

I didn't feel submissive. But I absolutely felt like a bottom. And I really, really enjoyed that role. I also felt undoubtedly masculine presenting. Queer as hell, absolutely. But masculine, homoerotic, in a way I've never done before. 

I couldn't have done that alone. I wouldn't have dared. My internalized transphobia is convinced that no one can ever find me attractive again... If I look like a man, I can only be reviled. So this outfit actually felt MORE scary than the gender bending I did at the party this spring, when I wore a feminine fishnet body-stocking and a garter belt. Exploring, embracing homoerotic masculinity.. That still feels terrifying to me. (Decommissioned robots and all that.) 

The kink scene in this town is also fairly sapphic and straight. I only know of a single openly gay man here. However, this party was a national event, drawing crowds from other parts of the country too. 

The kink scene here is also almost... Asexual. In a way. Bare asses and tits for spanking, sure. Moans and grunts as someone is suspended or tied in a torture tie, absolutely. But I've never seen bare genitals being touched up here, since we moved back in 2020. Never seen or heard anyone having an orgasm. (Not at events with the local bdsm club, that is.) 

So I was glad the event last night was a larger one, because Might and I had plans that were very sexual in nature. But I'm saving the accounting of those plans for my next post. They were very, very hot. 

Stop throwing them balls they can't catch

I spoke with Might last night. He actually hadn't intended to go no contact at all. He'd just been busy with his dad, doing chores and working outside for hours. His phone was left indoors while he did. He recognizes that his last message absolutely could be interpreted that way, but it really wasn't his intention.

That changed everything for me. In a heartbeat I went from being an emotional wreck, to being almost regulated again. The fact that he admitted fault. That he recognized what had happened, saw it from my perspective. Apologized. It meant the world to me. 

It leaves me wondering, though... My downwards spiral when I felt abandoned and ignored was really steep, really unpleasant. I could see that my dysregulation wasn't entirely his fault, I could see myself being irrational, but that didn't really make it any easier to deal with. The abruptness of it all feels like a conditioned response, to me. A trigger. My brain saw something it recognized as danger / harm, and responded accordingly. 

Was I always like this? 

Yes, to some degree. I've always hated it when people don't respond in a timely manner, or don't communicate properly. I've always been afraid to lower my guard, only to be abandoned, betrayed, mocked. That's how the bullies did it, when I was a teenager. They'd seem nice, they'd lure me in, and then flip everything on it's head. Mock me, laugh at me. So this fear is probably ingrained from when I was a child. 

However, it seems worse now. More frantic, more high-strung. Easier to flip into fight-or-flight. Is this what my relationship with Novice did to me? And to some extent Saint and T before her? Because I WAS abandoned, again and again and again. Left to deal with my own feelings, regulate myself, while they pulled back from me. Novice in particular, much more often than the other two. Because that relationship was also a lot more turbulent than the other two. 

I had to ignore my own needs, again and again, because she "couldn't help it". Accepting that I had to sacrifice my needs for her, but couldn't expect her to do the same back. Because she "couldn't". Maybe I couldn't either. I thought I could, and I did.. But every time I put my own needs on hold, I suspect I've caused myself a wound. 

To be clear: I don't blame her. She really couldn't help it, she had to take care of herself. If she hadn't, she probably wouldn't be here. I blame myself. 

I blame myself for not putting down clear boundaries, setting clear expectations.. And then responding accordingly when my needs weren't met. I don't mean leaving at the first sign of trouble, but by recognizing that sometimes loving someone isn't enough to keep them as a full-time partner. If someone obviously can't catch the ball, stop throwing balls at them and then get sad when the ball hits the ground.

I don't know if this insight will actually change anything. Understanding your own patterns, and actually changing your behavior, are two VERY different things. However, it's a step in the right direction. I hope. 

Radio silence from Might

After the news that Might hadn't performed the treatment for scabies properly, I was (understandably) really stressed out and upset. I started making plans for how to deal with it, explaining to him that we're basically back to scratch. His dad seems to think that doing only 75% of the recommended treatment time should be fine. That the risk isn't that great. And respectfully: I don't care, this isn't his call. 

I agree that 75% is a lot better than nothing, but I'm not willing to take the risk that Saint and my kids will have to go through this process again. Especially since Might already tried treating the scabies earlier this year, and failed. So I'm taking NO unnecessary risks. 

I will consider Might untreated and contagious until I know he's done a full, continuous 24 hours of treatment according to the recommendations. So no "a bit extra on the most important spots". No "it's probably ok without another round". No! He'll do this properly, or I can't be around him. And I don't trust him to do all the right steps without my supervision, he's proven he can't be trusted in this regard.

Might, logically, was very upset. He grew really overwhelmed and sad, obviously blaming himself. As he should. I know he doesn't want to cause harm. However, he then went no contact. Complete radio silence. Causing harm. 

His last message said that he'd understand it if I didn't want to talk with him again. And to be fair, the thought has struck me. However, we have a full weekend together in just a week, and I want us to try to work through this. Yes, he's messed up, but if we work at it we could be ok. However, that won't happen if he runs away from it all. Novice did the same thing, running away from me when she was self-critical or sad, and didn't feel she was good enough.

In what fucking world does running away from a problem EVER fix anything? In what fucking world does it help to leave the person you love hanging? First he messes up, then he just disappears. How does that actually enable him to make amends, or to build up the trust again? He messed up, why am I the one now being left hanging? Shouldn't he be reaching out to me, ensuring that I'm ok, trying to make things up to me? Why does he get to run, leaving me to coordinate and plan and research? 

Why do I always have to be the strong one, the capable one? Why does no one who actually has got their shit together, want to be with me? Why do I always end up with these people that need me to "save" them? 

His silence is leaving me increasingly dysregulated. THAT isn't his fault, directly. It's my own insecure attachment that is freaking out. Silence is interpreted as dislike. Hatred. Certainly not love. Logically, I know he's (like Novice) taking the steps he need to survive. Taking care of himself by stepping away from it all. Regulating himself. It just IS NOT working for me. 

I'm not certain I can do this again. He needs to step up, to prove that he's willing to work on himself and on our relationship. If he isn't prepared to do the work, and ABLE to do the work, then I'm right back to where I was with Novice 6 months ago. I'm not certain I can do that again.

Broken trust and micro-managing

As an autistic person, I have a need for control and predictability. The more tired or stressed I am, the larger this need grows and the more rigid I become. I remember when I first became a parent and went on practically no sleep, that I would get extremely stressed out if things weren't exactly so.

After a long day, going to Might's place, being there around 7pm at the earliest, I'm tired. I need to know that there is food in the house that I want to eat, that I have the beverage and snack that I left there last time etc. I told him this pretty early on, and he's been good with simply leaving my stuff alone. So that works out well. 

However, on four occasions we've made plans for him to do some shopping before I arrive. It's simply more practical than me having to do the shopping really late, arriving even later and more tired. However, on all of those occasions, he's not actually gotten all the things we talked about him buying... Nor has he let me know that he didn't get them. Three times he's bought the wrong product, not reading closely enough on the label (despite a detailed shopping list, and on one of those occasions I even sent him a picture to make sure). Once he got home without having bought what we agreed at all. And didn't tell me. 

I've begun to expect this level of inconsistency from him, so I'm asking a lot more follow-up questions now: Did you buy X thing (not just "did you get everything", because he'll say yes, and then I'll discover later that he actually didn't). Which brand and type of X thing was it? Great. Did you buy Y thing as well? However, it feels infantalizing. Like I need to micro-manage him, like I don't trust him. Which is fair, he's shown he can't be trusted in this regard. It still feels wrong to do this to an adult man. The relationship doesn't feel like one of equals.

If he'd told me when I didn't find a certain item, or called me from the store to check with me that he'd understood correctly, I wouldn't be this stressed out. However, he doesn't do that. He leaves the store, and don't think about having to notify me about anything. Apparently, this has been a problem for him in his professional life as well; That he doesn't let others know when he's fallen short somehow. I call it an anxiety response. I say he's being afraid to admit weakness or fault, choosing the most immediate route away from that discomfort by completely shutting it out of his mind. Thereby "forgetting" to let people know. I don't think he does this on purpose at all, I think it's an unconscious anxiety response. However, he's completely denying being anxious or afraid of anything. So fuck if I know. 

Now he's done it again. This time it's a lot more serious than just getting the wrong item at the grocery store. Like I just wrote about, we have scabies. On Wednesday, we all started treatment. That treatment needs to be on for 24 hours, before being washed off. He knows this. He still washed it off after 18-19 hours, because he was going to a place without a proper shower and it seemed more practical to him. That's 5-6 hours too short, meaning we can't be certain that the treatment has had effect on him. 

This means he could still be contagious. It means he could still be contaminating his surroundings. His apartment should be safe, because he isn't there for many days now. But untreated, he can't go back there. I can't go back to being intimate with him, or to kink with him. He needs to be treated properly to be safe. Watch me be completely, 100% rigid about this. I am NOT exposing my family for this shit again. We're taking EVERY precaution now, to avoid having to go through another round.

The worst part, again, is that Might didn't tell me he'd removed the treatment many hours too early. The reason I found out was because I asked. Because I wasn't absolutely certain that he could follow the recommendations. I was right to be skeptical, and I fucking hate that I was right. 

I'm so angry that he couldn't follow even such simple instructions. I'm so angry that I can't trust him to think things through, or to ask if he's got questions. I'm so angry that I now will have to micro-manage him even more, to be able to be around him at all. I can't trust him. I WANT to trust him. Fuck!

Everyone messes up occasionally, and that I can forgive. He doesn't purposefully or maliciously try to hurt me. I trust that he doesn't actually want to cause harm. How many times, and how serious offences, can I forgive though? 

I understand why Novice says she might not forgive me. I still think my offence was less serious than this, but if this is how she feels, I get it. How can I be with someone if I can't trust them?

I hope Might and I get through the plans we have next weekend (B is also coming to town, sleeping on his couch). Safely. After that, hopefully we can try to find some sort of balance. Set down some ground rules. Rebuild. 

If we can. 

If he can. 

The itch, the fucking itch

So Might gave me scabies. He got it from a trans woman he'd had a sexual relationship with in January of 2024. (The same woman who was the batshit crazy roommate of Elle's, back when we were together.) He thought he was clean, having treated as recommended, but apparently it survived. So now, he needs a new round of treatment, and I need to be treated as well. What's much worse is that my kids, Saint and Novice also needs to be treated, as I've been in close contact with them (or in the case of Saint, live in the same household). I feel absolutely terrible that they're suffering. I don't know how I could have avoided it, and I'm thankful that I'm such a social recluse that those are the only people affected.. But still. 

Novice is angry with me for not telling her a couple of days sooner, when I spoke with my doctor. He said it was likely that it was scabies, and suggested I get it treated. But then Might's itch practically disappeared, so we started wondering if it could be something else. My doctor never looked at my skin, never examined anything. His judgement was based on what I said, how I presented things. I could have said things differently, and his conclusion would have been another. I didn't tell Novice, or Saint, because I wanted to be as certain as possible. Scabies treatment is expensive and extensive, it's not something you make someone go through unless they absolutely have to. 

She doesn't see it that way, because she ended up possibly contaminating other people during those two days. And I understand her anger at me. Just like I'm angry with Might, because he made me expose Saint, Novice and the kids to this. However, I know that anger is irrational. He did the best he could at the time, he thought he was clean. I'm allowed to be angry, feelings are permitted. At the same time, I can acknowledge that he doesn't deserve to be the recipient of that anger. Having two thoughts at once, and all that. 

I've also realized, during this process, that scabies is A LOT more common in Norway than I though. Almost everyone I talk with has gone through treatment at some point, or has a family member who has. A trans woman told me there's an epidemic among transfems in Oslo. They're 20-30 transfems who've all had to be treated multiple times this spring and summer.. And she'd just caught it again. T also told me that his girlfriend once caught it from some BDSM furniture at a kink club outside of Oslo. So apparently it's really common, it just isn't spoken about. 

Novice says she might not be able to forgive me for waiting those few days extra. For making her expose others. It makes me really, really sad. However, I can't do anything about that one way or another. I hope she'll accept me back in her life eventually. I still care deeply about her. I still want her in my life, and in the life of my family. I can only hope. 

And itch. 

Fucking hell, I hate this bug.

Novice anew: Topics for further review

Novice and I spent almost 12 hours together last night, and we talked about A LOT of things during that time. I struggle to make any sort of coherent narrative of those topics, but many of them were important to remember. I want to make a record her, so I can refer back to these things later, and so I can return and ponder them. So I'm just writing these out as unconnected paragraphs, because that's better than nothing:

What I've done for her:
She told me how much I'd meant for her, how much of a positive impact I'd made in her life. She now claims there's about a 50/50 chance she wouldn't have survived, if I hadn't helped her get hrt. She also said that I'd helped her grow emotionally, helped her deal with the growing emotional range that egg crack and estrogen gave her. It seemed very important to her that I believe her.

I struggled even hearing this. I was really tired, and could feel myself dissociating while she was talking. It was so fucking hard to hear these things NOW, when I so longed to hear them while we were together. We spoke of these things several times back then, and the conclusion was always the opposite: That I've provided useful information on occation, sure, but that she would have managed just fine on her own. That I hadn't really made any significant impact, that she never really needed me.

I've written about all the ways she didn't need me, before. I know she read that, and never voiced any protests. So this entire topic surprised me a lot, and honestly I struggle to believe it. It goes so much against what she's said before. She claimed she didn't understand what I wanted then, but that's the point: If you fish for reassurance, and receive it, it isn't worth much. For example, being told you're beautiful is always nice (and obviously preferable to being told you're ugly), but if you asked what they thought first, it's worth 10% or less of the unprompted compliment. If you even find the prompted one believable at all. 

So I struggle to believe her now, when she's said polar opposite things several times before. On the other hand, I know she doesn't lie to me. Not on purpose, anyway. 

Hiding sides of herself:
That's another thing we talked about: How there are sides of herself that she hides. From me, and from herself. Things she's afraid of, ashamed of, or that in other ways makes her uncomfortable. To some degree, I think we all do that. However, from what I can gather, there's more to her particular brand of this... If someone makes a guess at my mood, feelings or thoughts, and they're wrong.. I'll let them know. I'll share what I'm feeling, to help them get to know me better. At least if there's any degree of trust there. 

It seems, from what she's now told me, that she often don't let me know when I guess wrong. She in stead lets me assume I'm right, she doesn't say or indicate anything to the contrary. Leaving me to therefore make decisions on the basis of faulty information. Information she knows is faulty. That feels like lying, to me. After all, if person A says "I think you feel X, and therefore I will now do THIS based upon that"... And person B knows that what they're feeling is Y, and doesn't correct A's assumption.. Isn't that at least lying by omission? 

She claims this process is at least partially subconscious. That she doesn't consciously know that I'm wrong a lot of the time, hiding these thoughts and emotions from herself as much as from me. So I can't really hold it against her. But even if it's not conscious in the moment, she has sometimes realized it afterwards right? So there's some degree of awareness there. She could have told me then, maybe? I don't know, it just feels... Off. Somehow. 

It bugs me, it makes me slightly apprehensive, but in the grand scale of things it doesn't really matter. I still care about her deeply and want to spend time with her. I accept this about her, even though I don't particularly enjoy it. Like I've said time and time again: She's worth it.

Internalized homophobia:
We talked about how I doubt that she was ever physically attracted to me. That she's never shown any sign of being attracted to anyone who weren't a woman or at least vaguely female presenting. I've claimed that she's really sapphic, that my growing masculinization was part of what made her distance herself from me. We've spoken about this before, and she's always told me I'm wrong. Claimed she's pan-romantic, so genders doesn't matter. Explaining that she doesn't feel aesthetic attraction like most people seem to do, which is why I've never seen any sign of her feeling attraction towards men. 

However, yesterday something seemed to click: She was more open to actually considering my words this time, feeling her feelings. Not just being defensive and denying it all. And she made a discovery: A lot of it is probably internalized transphobia (of the brand: "she can't really be trans, she's REALLY a man") combined with internalized homophobia (like: "men aren't supposed to feel attracted to other men, that's wrong").

So she's terrified. Of course she is. She's a woman, and she's always wanted, needed, to be seen as a woman. Treated like a woman. Not just socially, but sexually: She wants to be seduced, she wants to be the bottom, the receiving partner. She wants be penetrated. When you grow up thinking you're a boy, OF COURSE those needs must have triggered some internalized homophobia. I've written so many blog post here, going over the same stuff with regards to myself and my attraction towards women. 

However, she isn't into men in a gay way. She isn't a homosexual man. She can't be, she's a woman. She's more into men in a straight way, I think. At least to the degree that someone as queer as her can do anything in a straight way. 

We didn't finish talking about this, because it freaked her out so much. So I didn't get to wonder if some of it also internalized transphobia of the brand that she thinks she isn't a "real" woman? Not "as good as" cis women. Maybe she didn't feel she was "allowed" to feel attracted to predominantly straight men, that this would be overstepping somehow? (To be clear, I don't believe this. She is a real woman, and she is just as good as cis women. Honestly, in my eyes she's better. Of course straight men might be attracted to her, that's not overstepping at all.) 

The reason I'm writing this, is because I've thought these things about myself. I still do, to a large degree. I'm read as a man now, mostly. However, I'm nonbinary, not a "real man". Even if I were a binary trans man, I still wouldn't be a "real man". I recognize this for the bullshit transphobia that it is, but that doesn't make the feelings any less real. So it's possible she feels similar things. If she's able to feel those feeling at all, that is. 

The sudden change of behavior after the break-up:
I also tried to make sense of the sudden shift in her when she dumped me. How she went from not being able to touch me, look at me, barely even speak to me.. To being right back to the loving, tactile, engaging partner she'd been at the beginning. 

She tried to explain it by using a box metaphor: The box of "relationship" contained so much stuff that muddied it. She knew she wasn't able to fill my needs, she didn't feel she deserved me, she was afraid of the future, afraid of failing me, felt inadequate, felt strangled by me, and so many other things. By emptying that box on its head and throwing the box itself out, she also got rid of all that mud. 

We're now in a "friends or something" box, which isn't the same box. So even though this box contain many of the same things.... We trust each other, love each other, cuddle, cry, hug, play board games, talk, laugh, discuss.. The mud isn't there. She says the main thing was not being responsible for my well-being anymore. Meeting my needs aren't her responsibility, she doesn't have to feel so inadequate. 

To me, it doesn't really make sense.. Maybe I'm too much of a relationship anarchist, but to me there's very little difference between a really good, non-sexual, romantic relationship... And whatever "friendship" we have now. I mean, this box contain the same things, after all. This love is NOT how I feel about my friends. If it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck.. 

No, I don't want to go back to having her as a full time partner either. Not now. It wasn't good for either of us. However, that doesn't mean that this isn't also a sort of romantic relationship, in my eyes. We've just thrown away the relationship escalator all together. We're letting it be whatever it can be, in stead of forcing it into a mold which isn't work. That's how I feel, at least.

Gah, I don't know. If this box analogy makes sense to her, I'm glad for her. That's better than both of us being confused. And I'm glad she wants us to remain "friends or whatever this is". She's important to me, I think we can be good for one another, and I don't want to lose her altogether. To quote myself from just before we broke up: "I want every part of her that she will give me, and I want to be with her for as long as she'll let me."

I'm glad she at least tried to offer some sort of explanation. Maybe this will be a seed that enables me to make more sense of her sometime in the future. For now, I'll just have to conclude that women work in mysterious ways. People like me should just feel blessed to be honored by their company. 

And I do. I really do. 

Novice anew: A balancing act

When Novice and I met on Sunday, we agreed that we enjoy each other's company and want to remain in each other's lives. We don't want to enter into any sort of romantic or sexual relationship again, at least not for a long time. However, we care about each other and don't want to lose what we still have.

I still struggle not just to assume that I'm imposing on her. I spent so many months basically feeling unwanted by her, after all. However, she does little things now that help silence that fearful voice in my head. Like reaching out to me, looking at me. Telling me, with words, that this is what she wants. I still trust her, to a large degree. Even though I'm also a bit emotionally.. skittish. 

When I was about to step onto the bus to leave on Sunday, we hugged for the first time since I moved out. That hug seemed to trigger something in her. Some need for connection, emotional intimacy, safety. So last night we met again. We ended up spending almost 12 hours together, I got home at 6am in the morning. 

We talked, we smiled, we played a round of a board game we love, and we cuddled. A lot. Wrapping around each other on the couch, arms and legs intertwined. She cried in my arms, feeling both vulnerable and safe with me. (I wish I was able to cry too, I felt the need to. The testosterone makes those things a lot harder, so I couldn't.) She told me she loved me, both with nonverbal signals and with actual words. Repeatedly and freely. That surprised me, I didn't think she still did. I love her too, and told her as much.

We had a theoretical discussion (on how trans people talk about their own gender in the past), that went really well. We didn't agree, but we were respectful and communicated really well throughout. We couldn't have done that a year ago, I think. I've grown so much during this relationship. She's made me a lot less selfish, more willing to put my own immediate needs on hold for the people I care about. More willing to listen.

We spoke of our past, present and future. Of the things that went really, really badly in our relationship, and the things that went really well. We recognize that interacting like we do now, with emotional intimacy and physical proximity, is risky. It's a slippery slope, because we're constantly being reminded of how good we were together. I wrote about this already back when we broke up, that I must try to avoid drowning in the dream of us. I felt the instinctual need to kiss her several times last night, but I stopped myself. That would be crossing some sort of boundary, and she's verbally very clear on what side of that boundary she wants us to be on. (Although her body language and other non-verbal cues aren't as clear, frankly. So I think she's feeling these things too.)

Despite the emotional vulnerability, the physical proximity, the cuddling, the obvious and instant connection I feel when I'm with her like this.. I don't feel like I'm falling for her again. I can't fall. I already love her. However, it's a different kind of love. The fact that I'm hooked on Might, crushing on Might, acts as a sort of.. Safety cushion. The limerence, the all-encompassing obsession I feel for someone I'm in love with, isn't there with Novice anymore. She described it as allowing ourselves to be warmed by the residual heat of the coals. Which is an apt metaphor.

It IS risky, though. I can see this slipping back into that obsessive limerence again, if we were to see a lot of each other in a short amount of time. I can also see us going out of bounds if we're for example drunk. However, she's busy on her end and I've also got other stuff to do. I've got work, and Might, and a family. By NOT prioritizing each other that much, I think we can perform this balancing act. There's so much good that we want to keep, so much we love about each other and our friendship as it stand now. Throwing that out completely, going back to zero, isn't something we want either. 

So we keep balancing.

An island or an ant hill?

Today marks 11 weeks since my relationship with Novice ended. Until a few days ago, I'd only met and spoken with her once since that break, in late July. An extremely difficult meeting that made me spiral pretty badly. 

This Sunday we met up again for around 3 hours, and it wasn't anything like the meeting in July. It wasn't completely comfortable either, we were both anxious and a bit on edge... But it felt very similar to how we were able to talk and interact in the day after she dumped me; Familiar, compatible. Exhausting as well, sure, but so, so good.

She told me about the issue she'd been mulling over back in July, when she said "we need to talk". It related to privacy, and how she felt I'd severely overstepped when I'd told people that we were over. She needs control over who knows what about her, and it made her very uncomfortable when I told others about this issue without her knowledge. She also found it uncomfortable when I'd asked her for information about a common friend of ours. She didn't think that was her information to spread, if I wanted to know I should have asked that friend directly.

To me, these are related. I view my friends group as a loosely connected collective. Almost like ants in an anthill, we each live our lives and do our thing. But if one of us is in trouble, the others will need to know about it and will want to come and help. To me, this expectation of some degree of mutual aid is a given. I probably wouldn't be friends with them otherwise. Not everyone can help out each time, but if everyone helps out as much as they can, then most of the collective's needs will be met. To quote Marx: "From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs". 

However, this only works if information is also shared. We need to know about other people's needs and troubles, in order to allocate time and resources to them. At the same time, having 5 or 10 or 15 people each reaching out to a person in trouble to ask what they can do is extremely inefficient. It even makes the burden on the person in need larger. So information must be shared, so that the aid can be coordinated and efficient.

When a friend of ours was in the hospital, I told others that were close to him. When me and Novice ended, and I was really, really worried about her mental health, I told others that I knew cared about her. When a friend of ours was struggling, I asked Novice for information about the situation. To me, this is a given. It didn't even occur to me, that she might not have the same perspective. 

Does this mean I can't keep secrets? No, of course not. I kept Novice gender a secret for a year, for example. That should be proof enough. However, most things going on in someone's lives obviously aren't secret. To live as though it is, seems bordering on paranoia to me. 

What's the difference between information sharing and gossip? To me, again, this is obvious: Gossip doesn't have the intent to help someone, and can often be malicious or at least scandalous in some way. Gossip is also spread to people outside of the immediate friends group. I expect close friends to help me out when I'm in trouble, that doesn't mean that I want for example random people in my kid's school to know details about my life. The difference here is also completely obvious to me.

I wasn't aware how fundamental this is to my view of the world, until we talked it through. Like the autistic person I am, I just assume that everyone sees things this same way. Her perspective is fundamentally different from my own. She values privacy and individualism in a way I can't really comprehend. To me, her viewpoint seems like such a lonely way to see the world. As if each person is an island, completely disconnected from any others around it. 

However, the fact that I can't understand this in her, doesn't make any of our perspectives "right" or "wrong". Like she'd concluded as well: We're just very, very different in this regard. 

I don't think I could have acted differently in that situation. I acted according to my nature and did what I thought was right. Isolated, I still think it's right. However, I also see that I hurt her. If I could have gone back in time, I would at least have voiced my concern to her first and asked her if I might tell specific people about our break-up. I didn't do that, and I'm sorry. 

I'm also sorry that she felt hurt and violated by this betrayal. I care deeply about her and don't wish to hurt her. I can apologize for hurting her, even when I'm not sure I could have acted otherwise. After all, hitting someone with your car by accident, still hurts them. Even if you didn't mean to, and couldn't have acted differently in the situation. So it's still your responsibility.

Novice: I'm sorry I betrayed your trust in me. I didn't mean to hurt you. I can't promise it won't happen again, we're very different in this regard after all. However, I want to work on understanding your perspective better, and thereby hopefully avoiding doing something similar again. Your well-being is important to me, as is your trust in me. I want to remain worthy of your trust, and I'm grateful that you're still in my life.

A fantasy with Might

We're at a bdsm party. I'm wearing a mesh top, my leather harness, and a black kilt. Underneath, I've got normal underwear. Shoes and black socks. I also have my collar on, the collar he's made me. 

After the first 30-45 minutes, we've done the first bit of socializing. The board has welcomed everyone and the formal stuff is over. Might tells me to go get changed. I know what that means, we've talked about it beforehand. I want this, I really do, but it also scares me. Makes me embarrassed. 

I balk at his words at first, fear in my eyes. He moves so he's standing over me, takes ahold of my collar and tilts my head up so I have to look him in the eyes. Repeating himself, he tells me to go get changed. Asks if I want him to come with me. Embarrassed, almost teary eyed, I nod.

We walk over to where we stashed our things. I remove the mesh shirt, but put the leather harness back on. Remove the kilt and my underwear, put on the shiny black fetish bottom instead. It's tiny, like a men's pantie, with a zipper going all the way underneath. The zipper is closed, for now. But I know what's coming. Socks remain on, as do the shoes.

Might clips a leash to my collar, and attatches my hands on my back. He also brings our small bag of toys, including a water bottle and a large towel. In only shoes, socks, pantie and harness, hands on my back, I walk back out with him. Might makes a show of socializing some more. Seeking out friends of ours. We sit with them for 15-20 minutes, just having normal conversations. 

Most of my body out on display. I feel scared, embarrassed, incredibly self-concious. The entire time, Might is there. The leash on his wrist, his hand casually on my body. Resting on a thigh or holding around my waist, or draped over my shoulder. Occasionally, he reminds me to straighten up. I won't be permitted to slough and try to hide myself.

Eventually, we move to an available corner to play. Still in full view of the room, but somewhat out of the way. Might spreads out the towel and helps me to kneel on it. He then puts a blindfold on me, and tells me to spread my legs. Reminding me to keep my back straight, my chest up and forward. I'm facing the room, but blindfolded. I can't know who's looking at me. Then he opens the zipper between my legs. (Carefully, so as not to snag on hairs or skin.) 

Using his fingers, he fondles me a tiny bit. Just enough to make sure my pussy is wet and open. Then he let's go and just leaves me standing there, for a while. Blindfolded, kneeling, back straight, chest forward, legs spread, zipper open. Stand on display. Silent. Helpless. 

A few minutes pass, and might unlocks my hands from behind my back. I'm still blindfolded, he tells me to get down on all fours. And then turn around, so my ass is towards the room, and I'm facing the wall. He cuffs my hards together in front of me, and tell me to put my chest on the floor, but keep my ass up and my legs spread. 

The zipper is still open. He fondles me again, just enough to spread some moisture around. Then leaves me standing like that. The wetness means I can feel every breeze, every movement. I'm acutely aware of being completely available. At the same time, the pantie gives some shade, my body is low to the floor and we're generally out of the way. So we shouldn't be disturbing anyone, who doesn't want to see. If they WANT to see, however.. The can see practically everything.

I'm so ridiculously embarrassed now, but also incredibly horny. I trust that Might is responsible for this social situation. It's not up to me to read the room, to pay attention to people's facial expressions or looks. I obviously didn't choose to be exposed like this, I can blame Might. I can just relax. Just be. Dripping wet.

There's some background music, and I'm blindfolded, so I can't really tell what's going on around us. Might is also focused on us, on me, even when just letting me stand there and marinate in my own exhibitionism. He doesn't talk to anyone.

After leaving me kneeling for some time, he helps me up on my feet and gives me some water. Standing very close to my blindfolded face, a hand on my collar, he tells me he wants to see me use the Satisfyer on myself. Silently, while standing upright. I balk at the idea, I can't possibly use a vibrator on myself in a room full of people. I tell him no!

I'm not allowed to say no to him tonight, we both know it. He grabs hold of me. One hand on my collar, the other hand pinching my skin on my thigh or my side or wherever he can easily reach. No warm up, no gentleness, just pain. I gasp, then whimper, then a low scream: "Fine! Fine! I'll do it!"

Still blindfolded, hands chained in front of me, I'm given the Satisfyer. I partially zip up the panties, with Might's help, then place the vibrator between my legs and turn it on. My legs help muffle the sound a fair bit. Once it's on and situated where I need it to be, Might grabs my cuffed wrists and holds them up against the wall for a while. 

Once I'm really warmed up and ready to increase the speed, he let's me do that. Then he holds my arms up against the wall again. Helpless. 

It's difficult for me come in this situation. It takes time, and patience. Might is standing close to me, one hand holding my wrists. The other one eventually grabs hold around my throat, his legs placed so I can't move my legs apoart. I lean into his hand, increasing the pressure. And then I orgasm. Silently, in a room full of people. 

Making "shushing" noises, Might holds me as I spasm. I try not to whimper, but it's so fucking intense. Eventually I tap out, and he lets go of me. I turn the vibrator off, and then lean against him shaking. 

Might becomes mine

Today (September 5th), Might became my boyfriend. We're counting the relationship from August 1st, when we had our first date.. But it's taken him 5 weeks to realize he's actually in love with me. 

He's said he loves me. I'm still not sure I trust that. He doesn't really feel his feelings much, and everything positive seems very muted. (Because of dysthymia, I guess.) He's never been in a real relationship before, and most of the time his emotions are buried deep.

However, he says he WANTS to love me. Wants to be with me. That I can belive in. I'm obviously good for him. And he's obviously good for me; Letting me explore the bottom role, and doing some forays into submission as well. I feel seen. Appreciated. 

He touches me. He's both telling me and showing me that he enjoys touching me. Touching me and looking at me (especially when I'm tied down helpless) turns him on. A lot. Novice used to touch me too, and she seemed to enjoy it, but I never felt attractive in her eyes. She didn't feel or express esthetic attraction like that. As I grew more masc, she also grew more distant (correlation, not causation.. But still.) Belle gave me masc-sounding compliments, but I didn't believe in my own masculinity then. So I didn't believe her at all. 

In a way, Might is the first one to ever BOTH see me as something fairly masculine AND make me believe that he actually likes what he sees. It's wonderfully affirming.

I still miss Novice. It's been 10 weeks now, since she ended things between us. I still love her. Not with the same obsessive, all-encompassing fireceness that I used to.. But it's still love. 

I don't want to get back together with her again, her leaving was absolutely the right thing for the both of us.. But I still love her. Still miss her. And I still say she was worth it. The fact that I'm moving on now, with Might, doesn't change that. I'm glad I got to know her, glad I learned to love her. She's important to me, and I really hope we can remain friends. 

And my brain melts

A lot of the play Might and I did today was awkward, weird, and sometimes uncomfortable. However, those memories are fading very quickly. What I'm left with are these: 

Standing on all four, firmly attached by my hands and feet to a metal frame. A slender collar around my neck, loosely attached to another point on the frame. A long, slender dildo penetrating me from behind. Keeping my pussy open and wanting. My knees are spread wide, and my back is arched. A blindfold over my eyes. 

I stand there. Open, yearning, exposed. Waiting. The anticipation in that moment was amazing. The exhibitionism, the bondage, the power imbalance.. I could feel myself getting more turned on by the second, just standing there. 

Then Might touches me. He touches my clit like he did last night, my breath exploding from my lungs. All I can do is moan and whimper. I can't move out of the way, can't close my legs, can't make him stop even if I wanted to. His fingers are doing things to my clit I've never experienced before. 

I feel my self disappearing. The self that is all higher brain functions, rationality, intellectualization, second guessing, and anxiety. All that is left in my brain is sensations. All that is left is the dildo inside of me, and his fingers on my clit, and knowing I can't go anywhere. I just have to stand here and accept it. Floating on a sea of pleasure and intensity and horniness. Somewhere primal, where there is no room for anything else. 

Later, he also bites and scratches me, while playing with my clit. Adding another dimension to the sensations. Overwhelming my intellectual mind even more. Making me moan loudly under his hands. 

I'm not gone for very long at a time. Something always throws me back out. The matrass moving under me, making the dildo tilt, for example. But those moments where I just exist and enjoy are so, so sweet. He's getting better at telling me to be quiet, knowing that talking pulls me up to the surface again. I'm getting better at diving back down, not letting myself stay on the surface for long.

Later, still attached in the same way. One of his hands is playing with my clit. The thumb on the other hand is showed into my mouth. Making me into a spit roast, penetrated in both ends. I eagerly perform oral sex on his finger for as long as I can, again losing myself in the glorious sensations.

Later, the dildo is removed and replaced by his dick. I'm still tied down to the metal frame like I was before. Just having to stand there on all four, chest and face on the mattress, ass up, pussy open. Eagerly accepting, as he slowly pounds into me. 

He threatens to leave me like this, just a willing sex toy for him to use, and my brain melts. My rational brain knows with 100% certainty that he won't do that. I feel completely safe with him in this situation, and know he'll listen if I want to change anything. So I don't have to monitor anything, don't have to be alert, don't have to worry. I can just let go. That trust in him, is why I'm able to let go. Able to step more into the illusion we're building together. And my brain just melts. 

Again, it doesn't last for long. I lose that subby mind space fairly quickly. But those glimpses are happening easier now, and more often. I feel myself growing more accustomed to the submissive role when we play, slowly letting go and trusting him more. Submitting to him feels like a drug. Both scary and so, so addictive. I really, really hope we can keep doing things like this.

Yes, please. Make me your sex toy. 

Touched, seen, anointed

Back in October, I wrote about being scared after my top-surgery. I didn't have any regrets, and I still don't, but I wrote:

"I'm afraid.

Not for me. I know I wanted it. But I'm afraid this makes me undesirable. Unlovable. That I really am what the terfs call us: Mutilated. Disgusting."

I desperately wanted Novice to acknowledge the new me. To tell me that she still found me beautiful, scars and all. To touch my newly formed torso, and through that touch show that she accepted and wanted me still. To see me. 

Unfortunately, she mostly didn't. As far as I can recall, she never gave me a compliment on anything visual. Neither before nor after the surgery. She never called me sexy, or beautiful, or handsome. However, after the surgery she also touched me a lot less. The effortless physical touch that I relished in the beginning of our relationship, disappeared more and more.

If the person I loved, suddenly had big scars across their body, I would work really hard to convince them that I still found them beautiful, desirable. That their scars didn't scare me, or turn me off. That the scars were a part of them, and because I loved them, I also loved the scars. I would never want them to doubt my love and devotion. 

The fact that she didn't do anything like that (or at least didn't seem to), hurt me. Not just because I felt unloved, but because I didn't get the support I needed to deal with the trauma of amputating two body parts. The trauma of permanently and drastically changing my body. I grew even more afraid that this made me undesirable, unlovable, and she wasn't able to help me deal with that fear.

Now, I didn't know, before the surgery, that I would need such support. If I'd known, I probably would have delt with it differently. She was struggling enough on her own, so putting that additional weight on her was perhaps unfair. On the other hand: Shouldn't touching and appreciating your partner's body be a given in a relationship? Is it really so unfair of me, to have needed that from her? 

I also wrote: 

"What you don't touch, don't acknowledge, doesn't really exist in your eyes. It's something disgusting, shameful, something to be hidden away, ignored. It certainly isn't worthy of love."

Everything in this blog post so far, has been written to give context for what happened yesterday and today: Might called me sexy (when I was wearing a collar with him for the first time).
Might said he enjoyed watching my naked body (as I was heating up some food for us in the kitchen).
Might touched my chest, stroking along the scars, again and again and again, as we were cuddling on the couch. (And it's not the first time he's touched me like that.)

Now Might isn't among the most verbally gifted people I've met. Just like Novice, he's got a mind more bent towards math than language. Also, giving and receiving compliments isn't something he's practiced at, nor particularly comfortable with. However, that makes the things he says even more meaningful. There's no strategy there, no manipulation, no dishonesty that I've been able to find.

I still can't believe him, though. This idea I have, that it's impossible to find my body attractive post transition, is soooo heavily ingrained. Novice reaction after my surgery didn't make it better, but most of the blame is on me. Because I'm fairly certain I'm projecting here; I have some internalized transphobia, believing that transmasculine bodies are less good, less real, less valid, less desirable, than cis men's bodies. That anyone touching me, looking at me, would much rather have a "real" man or a "real" woman. That I'm something they're willing to settle on, because they don't have better options readily available. Internalized transphobia, or perhaps just good old regular dysphoria. Or perhaps both.

I know intellectually that this is bullshit, but as Novice would say: "My emotions dug me into this hole, so I can't intellectualize my way out of it."

I know I need to work on my internalized self-hatred. It's not healthy for me, and it's no one else's fault or responsibility. However, I also know that what Might does is helping. Even though I'm not able to believe him NOW, I think I might believe him some day in the future. Because when he touches me, I feel accepted. Anointed. Seen. 

I wasn't really aware how much I've wanted that. How much I needed that.

Thank you.

Teaching from the bottom

I just did a fairly detailed writeup of the sexual stuff Might and I have been up to this past week. However, the sex isn't what I keep returning to, when I think about him and our time together. It's the kink. Not really the kink NOW, although that's pretty darn sweet as well. I dream about the kink to come. 

He's a switch, but just like me these past 20 years he's much more comfortable on the top. He struggles to stay present in his own body, not get overwhelmed or simply dissociate, when he's the bottom. Being on top, however, is obviously giving him a lot of pleasure by proxy. He loves seeing my reactions, hearing my breath, feeling me squirm. I can tell it turns him on a lot. He also gets a kick out of the power. The idea of controlling me, holding me down "against my will". For example, fucking me in doggy style was ok.. Fucking me in doggy style, while my arms were "forced" up behind my back.. That really turned him on.

For now, we're only lightly playing with the illusion of control. I'm throwing control at him, almost like I did with Novice a few times, and he does what I want him to do. He takes my direction and suggestions, letting me "top from the bottom". However, as opposed to Novice, I can tell that he's really getting off on the power itself. 

It's a balancing act; Teaching, and trying to relax and enjoy at the same time. I would prefer if I didn't have to do it like that. I want to truly yield and let him direct and pace the session, but that isn't possible quite yet. He needs to learn some basic skills first, familiarize himself with my body and responses, and grow more confident in his own judgement. Those things don't happen overnight, but considering the really steep learning curve he's on, it might be sooner than expected. 

I say I want to yield and let him direct everything, and that is true. However, I don't know if I'd be able to do that yet. I haven't been a proper sub for sooo many years, so going down into sub mode and actually staying there doesn't come easy for me. I'm more like a bobber, even when I'm pulled into the deep I quickly float back up again. I both need to trust myself, my body, my responses, but I also have to trust him. Trust that he knows what he's doing... Which, frankly, I don't. Not yet. I trust his intentions though, and it's getting easier to let myself go in his arms. For now, I haven't really been in a submissive mind-state for more than a few seconds at a time, but those seconds have been amazing. Making it very clear to me that I want more. 

Today, I started teaching him some shibari techniques. He's used to handling rope, but not tying people like this. During our last exercise, I experienced a few moments in rope space. I've only seen that happen to others, never felt it myself. It was just as wonderfully peaceful as it's always seemed. For over an hour after being untied, I felt calm, lethargic, almost as if I was on some sort of drug. I absolutely want more of that too. 

The last big technique thing I want him to learn is impact. I really, really want him to hurt me. I tried teaching Arthur, and although he did give me some spanking, it wasn't even close to enough. I want to be pushed, forced, into taking more pain than I think I can handle. I want to try to escape, and whimper, and when there's no other way out I want to cry. I haven't been pushed to breaking in a kink setting for years, and I miss it. (I've never thought of myself as a masochist, I don't get off on the pain itself. I get off on the giving and taking of control, and I get off on being given intense bodily sensations. Pain is just a very efficient way to get both those things.) 

I think he'll be freaked out as fuck in the beginning, just like Arthur was. The idea of hitting someone, of purposefully giving pain, is difficult to wrap your mind around. However, once he grasps how much I'm into it, I think he'll love it. He's already getting off on the power of pleasure, I'm guessing he'll enjoy the power of pain as well. At least I hope so. 

Practical sex ed

When I met Might, he'd never seen a vulva up close, not even seen much from porn. Never touched one either, obviously. He'd also never had vaginal sex. I'm not sure if he'd ever passionately kissed anyone either. 

I've now been in his bed three times, and his learning curve has been dramatic. We've had vaginal sex and tried several different positions (me riding, doggy standing, doggy kneeling on the bed, me flat on my stomach, and most recently today: Him on top and my legs over his shoulders). 

With no prior experience with what Saint once dubbed "people stacking", he's a bit awkward when trying to figure out how to place and move his body. He has no intuitive understand of how our parts fit together yet, even when we're just wrapped around each other cuddling. However, once he's managed to nail a position once, it seems to click into place. After that, he's able to replicate it with much more ease. He's not perfect, obviously, we've only had three goes at this. However, given his dramatic improvement, I'm very optimistic for the future.  

He's also touched my pussy a lot, both sitting between my legs and lying parallel to me. He's getting REALLY good at touching on/around my clit in such a way as to make me insanely turned on, and is excellent at taking directions. Today he kept touching me while I used to metal dildo to make myself squirt, only replacing his hands with a vibrator when I wanted to reach orgasm.

His dick is GORGEOUS. A very defined, large head, and a more narrow shaft. Everything on his body is long, including the dick, but so far the length hasn't been an actual problem. I need lube to avoid rupturing, though, but that seems to be the case these days. Same often happened with Novice, after all. Sucking his dick is very, very nice. He doesn't seem to have that much experience with that either, and I'm enjoying showing him new ways that his body can give him pleasure. 

I haven't been able to make him come yet, though apparently he's been pretty close. He struggles to come, and from what I can gather his orgasms are "muted". Sometimes completely dry, always more a release of tension than something intensely pleasurable. My guess is that this is caused by his anti-depressants, but he's been on them for years and can't really remember how things used to be. It's a mute point, anyway.. I'd rather have him alive than unmedicated. 

There's still a lot of things I'm looking forward to teaching him or showing him or exploring with him. Just on the "vanilla" side of things there's for example: Teaching him to finger me, and to eat me out. Try 69, and make a distraction game out of it. How to suck- and jerk off my Joystick, and possibly the strapless strap-on. I also want to finger him, show him what his prostate can do. Perhaps even make him wide enough to take a dildo, enabling me to fuck him. I'd like to fuck him, and make him enjoy himself. 

He's also amended his previous status as an asexual. He's calling himself demisexual now. Guess I have that effect on people.. Haha.

More on Might - what if?

Like I previously mentioned, I've met Might in three different social circles. So we obviously have a fair bit in common. However, I can't help but compare him to Novice. She and I bonded over books, especially our love for Wheel of Time and anything Brandon Sanderson. True, she read only two books in the 1,5 years we were together, but loving literature / being a book nerd was still a large part of her identity. 

Might has dyslexia, and doesn't have books or reading fiction as an important part of his identity. 

He also doesn't have her incredible, academically oriented mind. She would astound me again and again, whether it was math problems, board game tactics, memory, or just her general knowledge of the world. I felt like her intellectual inferior in so many ways. That was very challenging and uncomfortable, but it was also very rewarding. To some extent, I'm sapiosexual. Her brainpower is really, really sexy.

He's also 8,5 years my junior, and with very, very little experience. He's had only had sex a handful of times, both partners were penis-havers, and neither seems to have cared that much for his pleasure or emotional/mental well-being. He's never been in a romantic relationship at all, long term or otherwise. He's got a long standing interest in BDSM, but at the same time calls himself asexual. (Yes, another person on the ace spectrum. Remember how I said I should be really careful if I ever were to do that again? And then wasn't.)

Of course he also has a history of severe mental illness, but in THAT regard I think he's actually slightly better off that Novice was when I first got to know her. Because he's in regular treatment, is looking at a possible ADHD diagnosis (meaning meds that could help), and isn't currently burning himself out in a full time job. However, I didn't really understand how sick Novice was in the beginning either.. So I'm guessing there's more going on that I'm not privy to.

Can you tell that I'm mostly focusing on the negatives here? I think it's because I've felt my mind latching onto him, and I'm full of doubt. Really unsure if this is actually a good idea at all. Probably going to do it anyway, though.. 

I don't think I can fight this. I realized lately that I'm demi-sexual, but our connection is already more than strong enough. Getting turned on with him, having orgasms, enjoying sex.. That's really not an issue. I want him!

I'm so fucking worried though.. 

Is this just a rebound? 

Or am I so desperately to be desired, loved, or even just liked, that I've latched onto anyone who seems to want me?

Am I just a desperate sub in frenzy, willing to go along with anyone who'll let me experience more?

Am I using him, for my own physical pleasure's sake? Or just to be less touch starved?

Am I taking advantage of a younger, much more inexperienced, fairly insecure guy? Am I just being a creepy, older, experienced dude, like I've seen so many examples of in the kink community? (At least he isn't a blond 19 year old woman.. And I'm not 50. There's that.)

What if I don't fall for him properly, but he falls in love with me?

What if I fall completely head over heels in love with him, like I so often do with people I get hooked on? What if he doesn't feel the same way?

What if he's so mentally ill, so disconnected from his own emotions, that he wouldn't recognize love if it hit him upon the head?

What if he's so inexperienced with relationships, combined with being mentally ill, making him even worse at communicating than Novice? Even worse at dealing with stress and disagreements? Even less able to work on new communication styles and their own insecure attachment?

What if he's so mentally disconnected, he never lets me in? Into his head, into his heart... What if there will always be some sort of divide there. 

What if his asexuality becomes a bigger problem than Cord and Novice being demi and dysphoric? That we start out good, and then end up never having sex, just like so many of my previous relationships?

What if we start out switching, and then end up with both only wanting to submit? 

Am I really just setting myself up for another heart break? This first uncertain phase is so incredibly exhausting, what if there's no stable relationship in the other end? Is it even worth it, just to try?

What if, what if, what if.. 

What if it all just works?

Damn, I want this to work. 

Hooked again

I had to look up how long it's been now, since Novice and I parted ways. She's gradually fading from my immediate consciousness. Of course there are a lot of things that remind me of her, so many times per day she's brought to the forefront again. But she doesn't permanently reside there anymore. 

Part of the reason is just time and distance. The only time we've met and talked, she kept herself very distant from me. It saddened me, because I miss her friendship a lot.. However, it also drove home that she really doesn't want that closeness, that connection. Not now, and maybe not ever again. That's the reality I just have to live with. 

I said part of the reason is time and distance... Part of the reason, I think, is that my mind has latched onto someone else. There's this guy I've met and chatted superficially with in three different settings now: The kink scene, the board-/roleplay convention here years ago, and lastly at this community driven house for people who struggle with mental illness (Fountain House). 

I'm naming him Might, as this might not become anything serious.. I really don't know. It started when I asked if anyone in our kink community wanted to join me and a friend checking out a local Brewery festival in town. That was August 1st, so 8 days ago now. Might said he'd like to meet up with us, so we chatted a bit on Discord beforehand. (I'm realizing now, this is pretty much exactly how Saint and I met as well.)

Two things really grabbed my attention; One was that he'd written on his Fetlife profile that he wanted someone to practice rope/shibari with. I really want to find someone to practice with as well. (Novice and I really didn't do much shibari, considering we're both so into it. So my skills haven't developed much at all these past couple of years.) The second was that he's a switch. A switch like me. That's a pretty heady combo for someone who desperately wants to explore their submissive side, but who also enjoy being the top/dom. He was also willing to practice and possibly play with me, and his previous sexual experiences had been with men. Meaning he wasn't yet another straight cis man, seeing me as a defective woman... 

And he was willing. 

That's a pretty heady mix. 

We met up at that brewery festival, socialized with friends, and eventually left the crowd to talk just the two of us. We kept talking for hours, gradually growing physically closer as well. That single evening was enough. I was hooked on him, fascinated, feeling my obsession with Novice become more like background noise. 

The next morning, August 2nd, he picked me up and we went on an outing with others from that community driven house. Socializing for a few hours, and then again leaving to talk more just the two of us for a few hours before I had to go home. We'd agreed to meet on August 8th, but spontaneously, we met up in his apartment for a few hours on August 5th. He was exhausted, had just gotten back kayaking, but we still talked for a few hours more. Cuddling, hugging, just basking in the physical proximity of another interested adult. (That's the first time we kissed, and frankly he wasn't very good at it. Perhaps not surprising, considering how little experience he has.) 

After that, we changed the date on August 8 from "we'll meet up for a few hours in a local park and do some fully clothed shibari practice", to "we'll meet at his place in the evening of August 7, have dinner together, most likely have sex, do kinky stuff, and I'll sleep over there". And then we did. So that escalated quickly. 

We then agreed we'd meet up again Sunday evening, so that's two days from now.. But we just talked, and agreed I could come tonight. And stay the night until tomorrow. 

So yeah. Escalating, definitely.

Really not sure this is a good idea. 

Don't crack the eggs

Knowing that trans people often find each other, even pre-crack... Knowing that it's fully possible to have no idea you're trans until you're an adult.. It's very, very easy to see signs of gender incongruence in others. However, what I don't know is if there's REALLY something there, or if I'm seeing things specifically because I'm looking for them. Making connections that aren't really there. 

I've gotten to know someone new. Someone I mesh with surprisingly well. Someone who's mentally pretty much exactly where Novice was when I met her; A history of being suicidal and doing self-harm. A complete disconnect between the conscious mind and what goes on deeper down. Really, really struggling to even name the emotions they experience. Not much sexual experience, defining themself as asexual. Interest for kink, particularly bondage. 

Sounds like Novice, right? 

Does that mean this person is trans.. An egg. No, a lot of people struggle mentally, and it can be whatever reasons behind it. But there's more... Little things that MIGHT not mean anything, individually.. But taken together, it's making me wonder. Like long hair, for example.. A lot of men can have long hair, doesn't mean they're secretly transfemme. The same wild-growing beard that Novice had when I met her, a disregard for own grooming... Problems with looking at their own face in the mirror, just like Novice. Could that all just be because of depression and low self-esteem? Sure. It could. 

I'm slowly discovering more intimate things, though.. Sexual stuff that really makes me wonder. 

Again, this doesn't have to mean anything. This could still describe a large number of cismen, I'm sure. It's just that trans people tend to find each other.. Like each other.. Recognize something in each other.. I've got a gut feeling here, and it's making me wonder. 

It can't be forced though. I can't tell them "I think you're transfemme", without potentially causing damage. Eggs won't crack until they're good and ready. So I can't think, suspect and wonder however much I want. I still need to keep to the Trans Prime Directive: Don't crack the eggs.

Accepted (by a group of men)

Tonight was... Good. 

I remember the blog post I wrote years ago called "Accepted". This felt sort of like that.

I got to know a guy at a munch a few weeks back. He's not interested in becoming more than friends, but he's a really good (new) friend to me. He invited me to play D&D 5e with his friend group, and I really, really like most of them as well. 

And I feel.. Accepted by them. In a way I'm not used to. In a way I wasn't expecting. I met these people "on my own". Not through T, or through Saint, or through a game conference or anything like that. I'm not really used to making friends spontaneously like this. Don't know what to expect. 

Now, I'm not sure if they actually, truly, like me, or are just civilized people who know how to behave.. That doesn't really matter, though. Because I felt included and accepted and WANTED among them. That's a wonderful feeling. 

They're also clearly viewing me as something masc. When they slip up and use the wrong pronoun, they automatically go to "he/him". That's wonderfully affirming. I feel almost like an... Equal? Equal in a way I don't remember from when I lived as a woman. There would almost always be some underlying tension back then, because they were men interacting with a (perceived) woman. Even when there clearly wasn't anything sexual or romantic on the table.

I'm not sure if that tension was always a real thing, or if it was my discomfort as a trans-egg leaking through... I could be imagining this tension, projecting my own discomfort (discomfort of myself) onto others. Because I certainly wasn't really feeling my feelings, back then.

In some settings, I'm sure it was real though. At least to some extent. In kink settings for example. The hierarchy, to my mind, was fairly clear.. As a dominant "woman", I had many, many willing potential play partners. Meaning most social interactions were in some ways transactional. They wanted something-, or was considering wanting something from me. I often wanted something from them too. And the dominant men also often saw me as a woman and hypothetical sexual/play partner, even though I never played with any of them. 

When I'm being read as a man now, in a group of other men, things are very, very different. Men I meet are NOT potential sex/romantic partners, for the most part. Without any women in the room, the atmosphere changes. The mood is different. Just like a room of only doms, is different from a room with both subs and doms in it. Yes, that's comphet. Compulsory heterosexuality. It ignores queerness completely. I recognize it for what it is. That doesn't make my experience any less real, however. 

I wrote the draft for this post at 3.30am, but didn't feel I could articulate this properly so I just left the post unpublished. Now over 14 hours later, it hasn't gotten any easier. So I might as well hit publish. Maybe this will be the seed for something I can keep building on at some other time?