Friday, June 19, 2020

Pinned and taken

I spent another few hours with Arthur yesterday, and I think it's my first intimate encounter with him that I don't feel a need to analyze much afterwards. It was comfortable, familiar, nice. And no hint of a drop afterwards either.

To be fair, we didn't play as roughly as we did two weeks ago. Almost all of it was familiar ground for both of us. I did introduce a couple of new elements, but I don't think he was in the right head space to go on the offensive and run with it (he struggles with dissociation a lot). I was a bit more tired than last time as well, so I didn't mind. We stuck with stuff we both knew worked... And it worked.

We discovered a couple of new elements that really turned me on, though. That was a lot of fun. Basically, I get more turned on if I believe that the other person is really enjoying themselves. And as a bottom, I really enjoy the feeling of being taken. So when we were playing with cock sucking and breath control (taking him in so deep I can't breathe), having him moving his hips and slightly thrusting into my mouth was really hot. Especially when I was unable to move away, like when he was sitting on my chest or holding my head. That takes a lot of trust, and a fair amount of coordination and practice so that I don't gag (definitely not a turn-on!), but we made it work. And it was really nice!

The second element we discovered was similar to the first one in what it did to me, only with different body part:  When he fingered me, having him also hold me by the throat/jaw (not for breath control, just to hold/control me) was also a big turn-on. So yeah, not being able to "escape" while being fucked (by fingers, cock or whatever), is really hot. Generally, being pinned down by him is really hot. He's both taller, heavier and a lot stronger than I am, which works to our advantage.

I'm not at all surprised that I was turned on by these things. They fit well into stuff I've fantasized about for most of my adult life. What surprised me was how much I trusted him and his ability to read my signals. That stuff doesn't happen over night, we've built that trust over several years. And now we're reaping the benefits.

Monday, June 8, 2020

Further analysis of a damaged person

This is a continuation of my previous post. If you haven't already, I suggest you read that one first. 

First issue - analysis
Being afraid a lot, leaves scars. In the years that followed my relationship with X, I had quite a few issues. I don't know exactly which of them can be attributed to the way he behaved, and which come from other trauma (like many years of bullying school when I was young). But at least, my relationship with X didn't make me a MORE stable, normal, functioning person, that much is certain.

I grew afraid of men who raised their voice in a way that seemed authoritative or angry. And generally afraid of people who seemed angry. I got confronted with this fear later that summer in 2005, at a larp, where an older guy expressed anger at me (in character). It not only left me speechless, it left me trembling and in tears. And I wasn't playing.

Since then, I haven't encountered situations like this that often. Most guys don't go around shouting at people... But I believe that this fear has mellowed in the past 15 years. I still think it would freak me out, if a guy shouted at me in anger... But most likely I'd be able to handle it then and there, and only fall apart afterwards.

I also grew to hate it when people would leave in the middle of an argument. X would do that, sometimes, as a way to cool off. Which in hindsight was an excellent idea, considering that he really couldn't keep his temper in check, but I was hurt by it back then. I felt abandoned. Worthless. As though I wasn't even worth arguing with. 

I still don't handle that feeling of being abandoned very well, but it might also be connected to past bullying. So might not only be about X. I don't know. Anyway, when I feel vulnerable I seek connection. I seek reassurance that I'm wanted. That I'm ok. When other people close to me pull back from me, for whatever reason, I feel hurt. Even though it doesn't even have to be about me. 

But these are knows issues. I've known about them, and tried to work on them, for almost 15 years. 

Second issue - analysis
I was raped. I though I wasn't traumatized by that, but I think I was wrong. It didn't impact my daily life much, but it impacted how I do BDSM. 

I've always been somewhat of a control freak. Ever since I was a young kid, I've wanted to do things PROPERLY. When other kids would make up games, I would spent a lot of time making up the rules... And then feel really disappointed when no one wanted to play by those rules. I'd do things over and over until they were RIGHT. I've always done well in school, and developed ridiculously high standards for myself. I kept being disappointed by my class mates, when we were supposed to be cooperating, because they didn't perform to my standards. So I ended up doing the majority of the work myself. I was bullied, and so learned to hate surprises, because they were always hurtful and demeaning. 

So obviously, a need for control has always been there to some extent. But I REMEMBER being a sub with X. I remember the bliss of subspace, floating on nothingness, warm and safe. I remember the zen-like feeling of only being in the present, reacting to whatever he would do to me. Not thinking, not worrying, not planning. I remember feeling like I was taking a break from my own head. 

I've never felt like that again. 

Oh, I've tried. I tried with T, but we weren't a good match, BDSM-wise. I tried with Swede, but he completely lacks initiative so I still have to think up what he should do to me. I tried with Cathalyst, and that's probably the closest I've come. It was a heady, intoxicating experience. But I don't trust him enough. And I'm trying with Arthur, and that's what made me realize that there's some underlying issue here. 

Most of my fear seems connected to bondage. Which is weird, because that's also a big kink for me. I remember once at a shibari event, someone demonstrated an arm binder - style tie on me. No feelings, no play, just rope. And I remember really WANTING to relax into it, WANTING to enjoy it, and in stead I freaked out. I could feel myself getting close to hyperventilating, and had to get them to untie me. It was a really uncomfortable experience, and one I didn't dear to dwell on. I'd even forgotten about it (suppressed it?) until now. 

Some of my fears are logical.. There's so many "what if's" going through my head. What if something happens to them, and I won't be able to get loose? What if there's a fire? But in a room with several other people, awake, alert, during the day, with the lights on... Not logical.

And there are some fears that really aren't logical at all, but are obviously connected to the trauma that X caused. Like: What if they suddenly become angry at me? What if they don't stop when I want them to? Arthur just touched upon that last one when we did breath play the other day, and that fear isn't particularly pleasant either. 

Also, what difference does it make if him tied down or not, really? Almost everyone are stronger than me, especially if they're already on top. In a wrestling match, I'll loose. If they want to hurt me, they can. I couldn't stop that, even with every limb free, I'd just get more hurt. 

As for the emotional side of things.. I can play at being a sub. I can DO the right things, say the right things... But I struggle with feeling it, believing it, for more than an instant here and there. I struggle with letting go, letting the other person call the shots. Like I wrote the other day, I worry that I won't be good enough. That my natural, spontaneous reactions won't be good enough. That they'll abandon me, give up on me, if I don't enjoy the very first thing they try... What if I don't do it RIGHT? What if I disappoint them? That feeling actually scares me a lot more, deep down, than any worry for my physical safety. 

Conclusion: 
I want to work on this. I need to work on this. Really, really slowly (over years, probably) and with someone I trust and have that sub/dom-chemistry with. 

I can function perfectly well without dealing with any of this, but deep down I'm a switch. I miss being able to submit when I play. And with all this junk, I don't think I'll be able to. I can play at it, but I can't really feel it. 

I also think dealing with my past issues can make me a better dom. I learned a lot from being a sub, and I use that knowledge when I'm dominating. I'm better at reading their reactions, because I've been in their shoes.. But that was 15 years ago. Perhaps I should get some new experiences under my belt, eventually...

My shitty ex-boyfriend

First background. Then analysis. 

General background: 
I've named my ex-boyfriend X. We were together for about 11 months, from spring 2004 to spring 2005. For most of that time, we were also living together. I was 18 years old when we met, through the BDSM community. He was a few years older than me, and a tiny bit more experienced... Or at least more confident. I'd played with one guy before, a little bit, but nothing like what I did with X.

I knew all along that I was a switch, but I chose to explore my sub side first because I didn't feel experienced enough to take on the responsibility of a dom. X is a dom. We had some wonderful sessions together, I grew as both a sub and a person. He was harsh, but loving. Creative. Sadistic. Playful. Kind. I was deeply in love with him, and I think he was in love with me too. 

He was also a fetishist, having a thing for feet and for tickling. When we met, he was ashamed of his desires, but he grew more and more confident and much less ashamed. He also had a thing for the "goth" aesthetics. Especially girls that were short, slim and young-looking. I wasn't fat back then (even though I though it was), but I definitely wasn't short and slim. 

I tried to conform to his choice of aesthetics, dying my hair black and wearing lots of eyeliner and such.. But it didn't really satisfy him. For the last couple of months we were together, I permitted him to date others and have sex with others. He eventually dumped me, to be with a girl he'd met that way. In a way, he was my first foray into poly.. And it didn't really end well. 

First issue - background:
X also had anger management issues. We had terrible fights that kept happening more and more frequently, and with an increasing intensity. In the end, it was almost every day. He would scream at me. I'd never experienced people displaying anger that way. It scared me. I'd cry. He'd keep yelling, calling me things. I'd start hyperventilating, lying down on the couch, still crying. He'd yell at me that I didn't even know how to fight properly. I wasn't able to answer, even if I wanted to. He'd move within an inch of my face, or within an inch of my ear, and scream to me. 

He was really, really jealous. I'd started chatting with T in spring 2005 and we quickly grew a connection. I didn't feel like I could confide in anyone close to me how X was treating me.. Too proud, I guess.. But T lived far away, and didn't know anyone I knew, so he felt like a safe choice. I left the apartment sometimes, when X was raging, and hid in the post room of the apartment complex. Because it was both heated, and had light and power outlets, so I could charge my phone and talk to T. It wasn't romantic, then. He was just someone I could confide in. 

I didn't hide anything from X, and yet he'd get angry about T. Called him "the bearded monkey" and other nasty things. 

The last few weeks we were living together were the worst. He'd dumped me by then, but neither of us were able to move out immediately. I was talking a lot with T, growing closer to him. And X didn't have much emotion left for me, so there was nothing holding his anger back. At his worst, he punched a hole through a plaster wall, right next to my head. He also blocked me when I tried to leave once, and shoved me so I fell. And he tore down a book shelf in front of me, right next to where I was sitting. I had a bag packed, so I could run out of there on a moment's notice, should it be needed. 

Second issue - background: 
We always had some element of BDSM when we had sex. The last time we had sex (I though of it as sex then, and still struggle not to), he was angry. We didn't typically play or have sex when he was angry, we both agreed that it wasn't safe or nice. This time, he handcuffed my hands above my head to the bed. He then lifted my legs straight up in the air, and fucked me. No foreplay, no nothing. I don't think I explicitly said no (or "red", the stop word), but my body language certainly expressed that I didn't want this. I was crying the entire time. He was rough, and finished fast. He didn't ask how I was doing, neither while he was fucking me or afterwards. Just unlocked me and left the room. 

I realized, many years later, that this "sex" in fact was rape. It hadn't really occurred to me back then, that someone could rape their partner. We were together, after all. I don't think it occurred to me to say "no" either. I was his girlfriend. What did it matter if I didn't want to have sex? 

It does matter, though. I didn't want it. There were clear signals that I didn't want it, even though I didn't say "no". He shouldn't have had sex with me when angry, he shouldn't have gone ahead without checking with me, and he should certainly have checked afterwards. It's not enough to get him convicted of rape in the Norwegian justice system, but it was still rape. 

However, I didn't think I had been traumatized in any way. The almost daily fights and screaming and feeling terrified was SO much worse, the "sex" seemed insignificant in comparison. But I don't think I got away from it all as easily as I first thought...

This thread of thoughts continues in my next post.

Thursday, June 4, 2020

Why was today so good? (An analysis of damaged people)

I think it's all connected to Arthur's mental health. He's not as sick anymore. Even scarred from covid-19 and a recent bout of depression, and with lots of suppressed shit, he's still SO much better than he was when I first got to know him! And even when I compare it only to 2017, he's come such a long way! He claims that it's just because he knows me better now, and trusts me more... And I'm sure that's part of the explanation, but it doesn't explain it all. Because he wasn't CAPABLE of trusting me before. Not like this. And with him relaxing more, trusting more, I didn't have to be on such a high alert all the time either. So I could relax more, trust even more, and focus on just enjoying the ride. 

I have a lot of body issues, and I also struggle with accepting pleasure from others. It makes me feel selfish and guilty, as if I'm only worth something when I'm useful. When I perform. Whenever I'm intimate with someone, 98% of the time they get played with. Of course, I enjoy being a top, but that's not all of it. Even with long term partners, having them pet me, go down on me or fingering me can be difficult for me. Because I still feel like I have to perform..As though I'm not good enough, if I don't enjoy exactly what they're doing. So I struggle to relax and just be touched by others, to give myself over to whatever sensations there are and react in whatever way comes natural. And by over-thinking it, stressing about not enjoying things "properly", of course I actually enjoy things less and get less turned on. It's a vicious circle.

Being a strict top, being the only one actively doing anything, makes it a lot easier for me to be intimate with someone. However, it also makes the physical pleasure a one-way street. Now, don't get me wrong: I love giving others pleasure, and watching them enjoy themselves. But being the active party also takes a lot of focus and energy. Most of the time, I can't just be in the moment, going with the flow. As a top, I'm always analyzing, planning my next moves, reading their signals, and trying to get the timing and pacing right so the other party gets the best possible experience. I can play that role really well, and find enjoyment in it, but when my spoons are few I struggle to find any space to allow my own pleasure. 

Playing the bottom to Arthur's top makes it both easier and harder for me to receive pleasure. Harder because he's so full of initiative, touching me and doing things to be constantly. I struggle against a lot of feelings of guilt, feeling selfish and like I'm taking advantage of him. But at the same time it's easier, because he's so full of initiative, touching me and doing things to be constantly. I can just lay there and enjoy it, and his every word, every action, is telling me (again, and again) that he really loves what he's doing. 

I say "bottom", not "sub", because I'm not at a point where I can truly surrender control for more than an instant here and there. We played a bit with that today, at it's intense and hot, but also really scary and unsettling. I needed several time outs, as it just got too much to handle. Its something I want to explore further, but with all my control issues, it's got to be in very, very small increments. 

Now I'm not saying that tops/doms are just bottoms/subs with control issues. That's a myth and it's completely untrue for most tops/doms. What I'm saying is that I'm a switch. A switch who got really, really badly damaged by a dominant, aggressive boyfriend (naming him X) 15 years ago, and who's struggled to really let go of controll ever since. I've since explored my top/dom side thoroughly, but I haven't dared to let my bottom/sub side out to play.

Arthur is better now. He's more present, more trusting, and I don't have to use every ounce of my mental energy to lure him out of his shell. Being with him today felt easy, almost effortless. I could feel and act and experience. It felt natural. We fit. Our desires, our bodies, our minds. We fit. And whilst I couldn't surrender all control, I could at least yield enough to truly enjoy his touch. That felt glorious, like a benediction of sorts. 

And when we finally let him come, after a couple of wonderful hours of play, he didn't grow distant and cold. He didn't pull back from me. Not only did he remain physically touching me, but he remained emotionally open to me. Interested. I didn't feel rejected, like I have every other time. I kept bracing for impact, expecting him to close off, and he didn't. 

And so I didn't drop. I didn't cry in the car on my way home. I didn't spend the entire afternoon feeling raw and vulnerable. I didn't write, delete, cry, and rewrite these blog post. Most likely, I won't wake up tomorrow, feeling dazed and tired.

In stead I just feel really, really happy. Energized. Like I want to smile to the whole world, and give everyone a hug. I feel awakened, as though from a slumber, clear eyed and bright. 

I braced, but there was no impact. There was no drop. That, too, feels like a benediction of sorts. A blessing.

I hope we can meet again sometime soon. Maybe in spring?

Today, I love being poly

Where do I even start... Today has simply been really, really good. 

Life as a mom of two young kids isn't particularly sexy or glamorous. One or both kids are always at home and our apartment is ridiculously small. Most days go on rote, and there's little to no time for kink, sex or even cuddles with anyone. Not even that often with Saint, though we both wish for it. However, I was really craving cuddles and petting and being close to another consenting adult.

This is where being poly comes in REALLY handy. Saint could watch our youngest for a few hours (the eldest was in kindergarten), leaving me free to get physical with someone else. And like I've done around once per year since 2015, I hooked up with Arthur. He's a comet, in that we have an intense connection whenever we're together, but meet very infrequently. 

Another complicating factor is that I'm moving, with Saint and the kids, to another part of the country in just over three weeks. I really wanted to see Arthur before moving away, as I knew it would be a long time until we'd meet again. I'm really happy we got the opportunity to hook up today. 

So today.... Today was nice. There's no "if's or but's". Just really nice. 

Ever since I started flirting with Arthur, I've always had pretty nasty drops afterwards. This is mostly caused because he hasn't been capable of meeting my aftercare needs, and handling them alone is more challenging for me. I've been fully aware that this is what always happens, yet I've wanted to hook up with him anyway, because he's worth it. It's not a particularly pleasant thing, though. Drops never are. 

Today, I haven't dropped. And that was just the cherry on top of what had already been an amazing day with him: We experimented a lot, and we played harder and more intensely with stuff we already know we both enjoy. He dared to take even more initiative, even more control, and I've had a great time:

-We played a lot with power (like him holding me down, telling me to look at him etc). 
-We did a fair amount of breath play (though still far and wide within the boundaries that I consider safe-ish (no breath play can ever be completely safe)). 
-I got to suck his cock a lot, which I really love. 
-We tried the 69, which really isn't my favorite position, but we sort of made it work.
-We played a tiny with my my exhibitionism for the first time (him telling me to spread my legs, reminding me that he's watching me etc.), which was really interesting. 
-He played with my nipples a lot, hurting them, which was wonderful. (And my boobs getting fuller and fuller with breast milk as time progressed, wasn't actually a problem at all.) 
-And we cuddled and hugged and touched for practically the entire time I was with him.

I really needed this. A few hours away from the kids, where I could just focus on myself. I could be in the moment, not thinking or planning or worrying about anything, just enjoying myself and enjoying him. It's given me a mental and emotional boost, and I think experiences like this can make me both a better partner to Saint and a better mom to my kids. It certainly makes me feel better in my own skin, at least. This is how poly, at it's best, can work: It can make people better. 

Today, I love being poly. I feel such love and gratefulness towards Saint for accepting that I crave such experiences with someone other than him, and doing everything in his power to enable me. That's trust. That's compersion. That's love, in a poly relationship.

For the record

Last post in this blog was early December 2017. I gave birth (cesarean) in the end of December 2017. I got pregnant again around new years eve 2018/2019. 

During the early summer of 2019, T and I decided to split up. Saint and I are still together, and I hope we'll stay together for the rest of our days. 

In summer (I think it was the 20th of June, but I'm not certain) I met Arthur again, and had sex again. Like the last time, my pelvis (and general health) was pretty fucked up, but we made it work. (Though the piv-sex isn't the most important bit, anyway, it's all the cuddling and fondling that really matters to me.) I was nervous how my nipples would handle being played with, seeing as I hadn't completely stopped lactating and was super sensitive. However, that turned out to be no problem at all. 

I gave birth to my second child (another cesarean) in late September 2019. 

Anyway, I realize this blog entry is almost a year late, but I wanted it here for the record.