To Submit

“I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.”
- Anais Nin, US (French-born) author & diarist (1903 - 1977)

I am not a submissive.

I used to think I was.  I used to think I needed to be a submissive, but what I really need is to submit to one man "who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me..."

Shepherd says it this way, and it makes sense to me:

"There is a difference between needing to serve somebody and finding someone you wish to serve."
-Sir Lostpup Grey Shepherd

The thing that I love and seek in a power exchange dynamic is the reality that something, someone in my life is immovable, strong, demanding.  I am a strong and intelligent woman, independent, determined.  I don't have an overwhelming need to serve others, I do not have an urgent need to please others.  But in my life, I have always sought a strength that exceeds my own.  I need to submit.  In that submission, I will serve someone by choice and desire, but not out of need.

"I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don't mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don't mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling -- all that I am capable of doing -- but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding."
- Anais Nin, US (French-born) author & diarist (1903 - 1977)

From the time I was a child, I never knew a man who took the dominant role in a relationship.  I am loved by two fathers.  They are both submissive.  Let me stop here, and say that submissiveness is not a bad trait.  It is neither bad nor good.  It simply is.  My fathers are happy being submissive.  It is how they choose to express their love and devotion to their wives and children.  I admire and love them for it.  Both of my husbands, are/were submissive, much like my fathers.  By choice, they act and did act in ways to please the dominant personality in their relationships -- me.  I am not complaining.  I need and want my husband to be that person, it makes him happy, and it makes me happy.

But I also need a strength under which I can submit.

I want to push against a wall and find it immovable
I want to pound and find it solid
I want to know that I can’t win
I want to fight with all my might, and lose,
I want to kick and scream and stamp my foot
and find that it won’t work. 

I want to know that I will not be pushed away,
will not be rejected, abandoned, screaming silently in the night. 

but who will be the wall
who will stand firm
who will hold me til it’s over
and still be there?
Alice, quoted by Poppy St. Vincent, in her post 'The Fear and Loving in Everwhere'

You see, I am messy.  It is who I am.  I am emotional, and passionate, and impulsive, and creative, and reckless.  I want to explore, to learn, to experience, to live!  I am impatient, and immature and hungry.  I can be an adult.  I can be responsible and reserved, I can lead and control.  But there is in me a girl, a bird, a poet, that wants to fly headlong into tomorrow, hair tangling in the wind and heart pounding in my ears.... driven and undisciplined.  

"Without discipline, there's no life at all."
-Katharine Hepburn

Yet, I require discipline. I am like a falcon needing a falconer to tether me, teach me, protect me and let me fly.  I need the structure, the boundaries, and the reassurance that I am "owned, taken, safe, wanted...someone's so much that even I am second to them." Those too are Shepherd's words.  He is wise.  He is right.

"To be completely woman you need a Master, and in him a compass for your life. You need a man you can look up to and respect. If you dethrone him, it's no wonder that you are discontented, and discontented women are not loved for long."
-Marlene Dietrich, quoted by Master Obsidian's slave, namaste in her post Humbled Females: Reclaiming the Feminine Mystique

I have found that falconer.  He has a strength of character that moves my heart, and makes me want to please him.  He is my immovable wall, firm and resolute.  He is the strength to which I can submit myself, and he loves me.  He sees me, body, heart and soul --- all of me. He knows the woman, the girl, the hunter, the prey, the poet, the explorer, the child. He celebrates me, and wants to take responsibility for my well being, my growth, my submission.

I have found someone I wish to serve.  By his definition, and now by mine... I have a slave-heart.

"If you are a slave, it is what your heart said.  You did not get a vote."
-Sir Lostpup Grey Shepherd

The journey ahead frightens me.  It will not be easy.  I have already shown my ability to panic, to push and  fight and frustrate.  I have suffered consequences that I both hated and deserved.  I have been called to account, and instructed to stretch and grow.  I was not rejected, not abandoned for being too much.  He is still here.  He did not move, did not leave.  I am still here, still wanted and loved.  I have been shown a bar that is higher than what I have yet attained.  He sees my potential, and wants to see me reach it, so the bar can be raised yet again.  He believes in me.

"When [one who submits] enters into a journey with a Dominant, she is never quite sure of the path He will choose and the challenges she will face. The dance is first and foremost a dance of trust. Given this most precious element, she knows there is no limit to the places she will go under His hand. This is true only because He cherishes her and will not take her places she cannot go …"
-Fringe of Darkness tumblr

I trust him. I choose him. I submit to him. 

I belong to Him.

Sir Lostpup Grey Shepherd

What we do flows from who we are.
-Paul Vitale

I want to unfold. Let no place in me hold itself closed, for where I am closed, I am false...
-Rainer Maria Rilke

Daily I learn - sometimes painfully, other times with glee - that mine is a path never meant to be paved.
-Jeb Dickerson

We must be our own before we can be another's.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

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My Shepherd, my Wolf, my Sir recently wrote the following piece and sent me a copy:

Prologue:

It is odd to think I would find myself with another label. I was always the person with another name, another label and I was never the one to choose. I have now forged my own 'found label'. It started five years ago as a simple pun, but it has become me.

Who I Am

I live in the woods, in the shadows, in the places others do not like to go. In these dark places I have found myself, my Mistress, and my pack. In these woods I have learned to hunt and to play. They are traveled by only a few and fewer still make their home here with us. In the day, I see you looking into my woods wondering what is beyond your sight, asking why I do not want to live in your bright world where the dark is locked in boxes and expelled by the lights you burn every night. In the night I see you sneaking into the woods from your cleared, cut spaces. What you do not know is that I see you looking and I am watching you. I see your tracks in my woods. I smell you in the dirt and… sometimes when you enter my woods, I will find you.

When we do meet in my woods, you should know who and what I am. I am the wolf you mistake for a friendly puppy; you will not guess my age, size or identify my markings. I am not what you expect, am unlike anything you have seen before. I am the source of the tales others repeat in warning whispers. My name, like my form, will surprise you in its substance. Like all labels my name is meant to convey something in a few words. Who and what I am is a story that is told within my name and my full name is long and complex, which fits me.

I am the Lostpup who once enjoyed looking around and going over the next hill, until I could never return home and did not wish to turn from the adventure. Like most youthful creatures, I needed a strong guide and protector. She helped and continues to help me learn, flourish and grow into the creature I was born to be. In exchange I serve and love her. Like all puppies I choose fun and play over conflict and struggle. I play the games of the dangerous woods I found myself within and sometimes it is not safe. Sometimes too, the world forgets that behind the grin and the playfulness are fangs and the power of a predator coming into his prime.

I am a wolf and like all wolves, my pack is my life. My life’s work is leaving a strong healthy pack. My pack is made of the people I love and hold dear. They are a part of who I am and what I do. I am the Shepherd who leads and cares for his pack. I do this out of purpose not pride, although I am proud of my pack. I gain pleasure from the pack, but the pack is not for my pleasure. I work to lead the pack with integrity and to enrich its members, but I not for my enrichment or their attribution.

I am like the mist and the fog within your perception but not part of your codes or frameworks. I am Grey; I am neither pure nor evil. I am neither selfless nor narcissistic. I demand that my needs be filled, but not that others needs be excluded. I will hunt and revel in the acts of the hunt, but I will not waste what I take or take what I do not need. 

I have given my freedom and heart to my Mistress, and now I have been given leadership and responsibility for others, at their request and in exchange for their freedom. Now, just as I answer to the lead of my Mistress, I hold leads as well. These ties embrace and bind me. I cherish them because they help me remember that I answer to my Ma’am, that I am responsible to my pack, and that my pack gives to me. 

Feel free to visit us, but remember who and what I am.

Sir Lostpup Grey Shepherd 

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Every time I read through it, I smile.  I'm reminded of the reasons I love this man, and how grateful I feel to be included in his life.  I've written here before about my journey to discover who I am, about the urge to explore darkness, to take that after-dusk path into the shadowy woods.  When I read this piece the girl inside of me wants to cheer and celebrate the relationship, the man, and my good fortune.

Soon, I will post my response to this declaration, at Shepherd's invitation to do so.

This is a cross post on the Kink and Poly blogs.

Confession

I have a confession to make:

I've been silent for far too long.

You see, I started this blog, and the others to chronicle a journey - my journey, and when the road got really, really tough, I stopped writing about it.  The point of writing in the first place is to help me process, to show me where I'm headed, to keep me from losing my way.  The second point of writing is that, for some strange reason there always seems to be someone asking me for advice... about loving more than one, about embracing your own darkness, about relationships and journeys in general.  I don't know why god or the universe, or fate brings people to me with questions.  I don't think it's because I know all that much.  I rather think it's because there are so many questions, and I am usually transparent enough to say I'm stumbling my way through my life with questions galore.

At any rate, when I lost my way, and got caught in a downward spiral, I stopped sharing my journey.  

I wish I hadn't.

I don't want to spend too much time on the negative, but if you're reading here, I don't want you to think my life, and the road I've chosen is always wonderful.  I don't float through my world chasing lovers and getting all the kinky play and sex I can handle without ever screwing things up, or getting lost, hurt, taken advantage of, or being misunderstood.  I don't do everything right, and I certainly don't fail to deal out a fair share of pain and frustration to others, though I wish I never hurt anyone.

In the past nine months, I've fallen in love, given my heart, trusted.
I've been wounded, depressed, despondent.
I've been welcomed, accepted and loved.
I've been childish, afraid, and repentant.

I've risked greatly by opening my heart and life to women who are loved by the men I love.  At times that has been so frightening I felt backed into a corner, fighting like a cat, with claws and terror.... and the result is I've hurt some of the women, and in turn, the men I love most.  My insecurity has been a bitch, and I have spent several weeks looking hard in the mirror, taking responsibility for the pain and depression and frustration I've been living, and causing for others.

Don't get me wrong, I don't have a martyr complex.  But the bottom line is that my happiness is my responsibility.

In terms of the women... three of five have proven to be human. Real. Strong. Amazing. Giving and accepting of my fucked-up attempts to keep my footing.  It's strange to realize just now that those three, are all loved by my Shepherd.  I think it says something about him, that they are so amazing.  It may well say something about me, too.  For I have no doubt that I am loved by him, and by these three women as well.  I am grateful to be counted in such company.

As for the two who have proven otherwise, each simply decided she could not face me, and could not share.  One did so honestly, and is now no longer in a relationship with Husband.  I am sorry about that, but bear her no real ill-will.  She has to seek what makes her happy.  I am watching to make sure she does so in a way that honors Husband.

The remaining woman, I trusted too much. When I began to uncover her lies to me, to Poet and to others, it was too late, the damage was done.  I stopped trying to figure out what were truths and what were lies with her, weeks ago, and simply limped away.

I am more guarded than ever with women now.  I hope I am not always, though.

In terms of the men... I find my circle of lovers smaller today than it was six months ago.  In addition, I carry the scars of those who chose to leave.  I have lost a play partner perhaps due to something as simple as scheduling issues.  I have lost my young Poet because he chose to stop communicating with me, with no explanation as to why.

I do not stop loving, just because someone decides their life is too full, too complicated, too unhappy for me.  I admit freely, that I am still mourning.  I especially miss the passion we shared for language, verse, beauty and romance.  I believed in him.  I still do.  I still love him, and probably always will.  And yet, today, I accept that he has made the only choice he could.  Perhaps someday he might trust me as a friend.  Perhaps that door is forever closed.  But I cannot continue to lie on the floor outside of that door, waiting.  I must live.

I stand in front of the mirror today, and I can still see the scars.
Someday even the scars will be beautiful, and perhaps they already are.
I know at least that I am alive, healing, and stronger.
And I am loved.
Wanted.

Yes, today has been about confessing that I am weak, and messy and have recently been extremely fucked up.

But there is more:

I am strong.
I am beautiful in my brokenness and in my strength.
I am imperfect.
I am willing to be transparent, in case someone else is looking to me for direction.
I don't know the answers, but I do know that this life I've chosen is the one I want.

I only hope I earn the good I've gained so far.

This is a cross-post on the Kink and Poly blogs.

Up Your Sleeve

Dark haiku:

With ribbon, chain, words,

"Stay close to me, Mine, don't stray."

My heart could be bound.

~Ephe  8/18/11

Today I Need

To hear the strength in your voice. To know that calm. To stand silently in the corner and wait for you, for a short while. To feel your eyes watching me from across the room.

To be told to strip, and lie face down in the bed. To feel your hand upon my bottom. To feel the sting of fingers, or a cane, or a paddle, or a flogger.



That first sharp intake of air, and that first groan of welcome, of acknowledgement, pain is mine. The second blow, and the third, the unexpected rhythm, the surrender, the knowing that I do not need to know when the next strike will come, or where it will land, only that it will.

To be pushed, closer and closer to tears, to that breaking edge, to the emotions I've been hiding away because they were too messy to let spill out. To feel them rise in the back of my throat, and leap with every moan, every pain filled cry.

To hear your voice, steady, patient.

To arch my back and kick my feet, and scream my protests into the pillow without fear that you will stop before I'm there.



To scream until I am exhausted from holding back, and then feel the tears spilling down my cheeks, the sobs tearing from my chest. To tremble and shudder and weep.

To be gathered in your arms, and to blubber, sob, messily, uncontrollably, wrapped in your control. To spend my emotion in your embrace.



Safe.

Loved.

Known.

Understood.

Then, to love you in return, to sate your hunger and meet your need.






But today is not that day.

He Wraps me 'Round with Words

My beloved Sir Poet has a way with words. He knows just what to say - just what picture to paint - to quiet the voices that clamor in my head.

Every night He uses those words to bid me sweet dreams, to remind me I am His, to take me to that place where I am wrapped safely in His arms, or my leash is held by His hand as I sleep, or I am tied to his bed and curled upon a cushion at His feet. He binds me, always with words... words of rope, of chain, of leather.

On the best nights, His words bind my wrists behind my back, my arms to each other at my elbows, my ankles, and legs in crimson rope, strong and soft. All the while He whispers to me. His words become the boundaries, the limits that settle over me like a cloak.

After the rope, His words bind a length of violet silk around my eyes, as I close them tightly, focusing on the last image before they shut: His eyes - His determined yet gentle gaze. His words ask whether I have anything left to say before He adds another length of ink black silk that slides in between my lips. I whisper softly that I love Him, and express my gratitude for His words; then I am forced to be silent. To listen to His movements, to anticipate His touch.

Soon His breath grazes my neck, and my ear. His words whisper, and sometimes, He asks me whether I'm ready before He slips the noise-cancelling headphones over my head. The last words I hear are His profession of love, and His bid of goodnight and sweet dreams. He calls me His pet, and then silence.

I feel everything.

The boundary of the ropes, the silk, the weight of silence upon my body. My head echoes with His words, and I feel loved, safe, protected, wanted.

I wait.

I know He will reach for me. He will guide me into His arms, and wrap Himself around me to sleep in solitude, in silence and safety. I dream of being wrapped 'round in his protective wings.

I rest within His words.



image reblogged from http://augustserendipity.tumblr.com/

Hello, My Name Is...

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The Switch in My Looking Glass

"Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle!"
- Lewis Carroll (Alice's Adventures in Wonderland)
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“I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then."
- Lewis Carroll (Alice's Adventures in Wonderland)

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"How puzzling all these changes are! I'm never sure what I'm going to be, from one minute to another."
- Lewis Carroll (Alice's Adventures in Wonderland)
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"Be what you would seem to be - or, if you'd like it put more simply - never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise."
- Lewis Carroll (Alice's Adventures in Wonderland)
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"Speak in French when you can’t think of the English for a thing-- turn your toes out when you walk--- And remember who you are!"
- Lewis Carroll (Through The Looking Glass)
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’The question is,’ said Alice, ‘whether you can make words mean so many different things.’
’The question is,’ said Humpty Dumpty, ‘which is to be master — that’s all."
- Lewis Carroll (Through The Looking Glass)
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I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then. "
- Lewis Carroll (Alice's Adventures in Wonderland)
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I came into D/s drawn by the strength of a male partner... his restrained desire, eventually unleashed because he could no longer hold back; his ability to draw from me responses I didn’t know were in me; his acknowledgement of my darkness. I’ve always loved the feeling of being worth so much attention -- because he had to be very attentive to keep me on the edge, to be the kind of dominant I didn’t even know I wanted or needed until Karhu was.

In my day-to-day life, I am a strong-willed woman, intelligent, creative, and driven. I’m the one who gets things done, who delegates, who takes charge of a situation and bends it. I am responsible for my own life, my own pleasure, my own orgasm. Three years ago I began exploring D/s, and I was intrigued by the idea that there might be someone out there strong enough to accept the control I willingly surrendered -- and to wield it with skill; to take me to places I’d never been. That’s essentially what I’ve looked for in every D/s dynamic I’ve encountered or negotiated since.

Because that exchange of power is what I wanted, I used the labels I had a grasp upon to define myself as submissive -- forgetting that I am also strong-willed, driven, and very much a Mom. When I met others in the community who responded alternately to my labels or my personality, I came away surprised. Some expected me to be very subby, others were surprised when I insisted I was not dominant.

I’ve resisted the label of switch, out of fear. I do not want to lose the submissive in me. I am still learning what labels mean, and how I fit. I think part of me hates the idea I mighy be expected to be strong, when what I’m really looking for is a safe place to not be the strong one.

On the other hand, I’ve been struggling with the realization that I don’t fully fit into what I perceive as the subby role. This weekend over the course of several conversations, Shepherd figuratively held up a mirror and insisted in his gentle, indomitable way, that I take an honest look at my own reflection. I had to admit it.

There’s a dominant in me.

She is the woman who told Husband a year ago I was going to be polyamorous, and he could believe I loved him, or go find his happiness without me. I wouldn’t be angry at him if he made that choice for himself.

She is the woman who successfully negotiated a play-partner relationship based on her own wants, needs and limits.

She is the woman who found herself in a situation she didn’t understand, got defensive with a Domme who made her feel intimidated, and stood up for herself, making a mess of things. Now she is faced with the task of making it all right again.

She is the Mommy, the wife, the Child of the Wild Blue Yonder. She is me, and I am determined to go out and find what I need to be happy, only choosing to surrender and submit what I want, what feeds me, what meets my needs.

I may never own a submissive, though I’m learning never to use never definitively. Shepherd says some day I’ll meet someone and say “Mama want... Mama get. Period.” He’s probably right. When it comes to showing me myself, he usually is.

After all, he sees the darkness in me, and loves me for it. He’s the one person in my life I trust and love completely enough discuss a collar with. So, here I stand before that mirror and I see both dominant and submissive. There are needs in me fed by both of these dynamics. How I choose to explore and let them play out in my life is my choice. I will do so in my time. This is my privilege. I don’t have to surrender one aspect of myself, in order to have the other.

In fact, if I am to be true to me, there is no choice, but to acknowledge and celebrate who that woman really is.

Who is in your mirror?

Take Your Kink to Work

One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important.
~Bertrand Russell (1872 - 1970)

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My work is a game, a very serious game.
~M. C. Escher (1898 - 1972)

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I read somewhere on fetlife that Thursday, April 21 was "Take Your Kink to Work Day", and in preparation I asked Shepherd for bruises.  He was very generous.  Very.  (And there was a dagger involved, but that's another post altogether.)  

In addition to the bruises, I of course wore my elastic band.  Shepherd instructed me to snap the band in conjunction with every "Good Morning" greeting or 'Thank You" I received.  The total was seventeen... and my wrist was nicely red by the end of my four hour shift.

The bruises weren't the sort that _sub_girl and I talked about when we first met... they did not ache and remind me of him every time I shifted in my chair, because too much time had passed from Sunday to Thursday for them to still be that tender.  But I still knew.  Beneath my black skirt... they were there.

In addition to the bruises and the elastic, I wore a simple chain around my neck, and a blouse that was laced up the back like a corset, with Scarlet ribbon -- this in honor of Sir Poet, and at his request.  My shift was only four hours, and fairly uneventful, though the thoughts the whole event afforded me were quite yummy indeed, and that made the work day go all the more quickly.

On the drive home, I realized something.

I take my kink with me to work every day.

by scottfeldstein on flickr

I am who I am.  I am dark and twisted, and surrounded by the things in my life that represent the wonderfully loving, kinky, power-exchange relationships I enjoy.  There is a darkness in me that goes with me everywhere I go.  It looks out at me from my own eyes when I stand before a mirror.  It is part of who I am.

Everywhere I go, I meet that girl in me that is wonderfully kinky.

I hope that never changes.   

Thirty Days of Kink - Distance, Technology and Mental Power Exchange

by Moe_ on flickr

Day 26: What’s your opinion on online BDSM play?


My introduction to BDSM began with online play. I've spoken of it this month, in previous posts, so I won't belabor the point here.

There are differences, yes, and if my experiences were limited to online play, I have a feeling I'd be unsatisfied. However, I still maintain a long distance, online and via phone relationship with a Dominant, I call him Poet, here on my blogs. It's the nature of relationships, that technology helps us to stay connected. I cannot connect with him in person, so many interactions I might like to have with him are not possible. But he does offer me protocols, structure, emotional support, and yes, even some physical, self-directed, orgasmic kink. (Read that as "directed-masturbation, and orgasm control.")

It's not perfect, but it does fill a need where it would be impossible to fill it otherwise. Besides, I also have a very powerful D/s dynamic with Shepherd, which we explore not only when we are together in person every eight weeks or so... but online and via the phone in the spaces between visits.

I know that there are those who scoff at online BDSM, who consider it baby's milk compared to the hard liquor of 'real-life' kinky interaction. I agree, to a point, that there's a great difference. But I also know that for me, personally, having both options works. And, I think I've made it clear this month too... I'm the only one who has the right to define my own lifestyle / kink. Everyone else is of course, perfectly free to define their own.

Can't we all just get along while we get off?

Thirty Days of Kink - Mr. Right Now

by kirstyhall on flickr

Day 24: What qualities do you look for in a partner?


There is definitely a certain kind of man that feeds my need to submit.  


He is intelligent, clever and witty, with a sense of humor.  He also, is not intimidated by my own acumen.  He has a strength of character that indicates he will do as he says, be who he is; he is honor bound to do what is right, even when it means not allowing me to get away with any sort of foolishness or bratty business.  He communicates thoroughly and effectively, and does not waver easily, unless it is wise to do so.   He is just as concerned about my own character development and integrity, as he is his own.  He is confident in his dominance, has experience, and yet is still willing to learn.  He wants to explore the things I am curious about, as well as his own appetites.  He's not afraid to express his hunger, and is adept at inspiring that tingle of fear that I love.  


He knows his own limits, and is honest about them, not wanting to put me in any danger.  He is gentle, but firm.  He is also the type of man to be very practical and matter of fact when it comes to negotiations, agreements, protocols and structure. He knows when gentleness is more effective than strictness or sternness.  Underneath his tough exterior is the heart of a romantic, and he adores me.  It shows in the way he touches me tenderly at random moments, and in the way he speaks to me -- and about me -- to his friends.  He also requires that others respect me.  He makes me feel loved, wanted, respected and revered.


He does not play games, does not incite or put up with drama, he respects the gift of my submission, and my right to draw the line, wave the red flag, or re-negotiate, because he knows that for me to do so, is serious.  He respects the men in my life, my Husband, and others who have a place of importance.  He also honors my family, my children, even those who do not, cannot know of him, simply by encouraging me to be the best mother, daughter, sister, wife, and friend I can be.  He requires that others respect me as well.

Thirty Days of Kink - What Pushes Ephemera's Other Buttons?

by moe_ on flickr

Day 18: Any kinky/BDSM pet peeves? If so, what are they?
Probably the most common pet peeve in the community is this one:

If you are a dominant, you are not automatically my dominant. I am not going to fall to the floor and submit to you, throwing my panties in the air and licking your boots, just because you say so. I am not so desperate to submit that I will to anyone who pushes me. I do not get wet at the thought of you treating me like I'm too stupid to know what's good for me, or what I want.

I'm strong, I'm smart, I'm tough. What I want is to find someone who is worthy of the trust it would take for me to let down that wall of toughness, and let them in. Someone who sees in me great value even in my flaws, and who has the strength of character to give me the structure, love, and discipline that will result in me becoming better at being me.

I need someone who will feed the fear in me, the little girl, in me, the brat, the one who is eager to please, the one who is hungry for pain and pleasure. Those things will only come borne out of a sense of confidence and trust. I've been approached by people who assert that because my brand of kink is not theirs, I'm a dreamer, filled with "Fantasy Island" bullshit who should remove myself from the kink community, because there are enough pretenders out there already. (No, I'm not joking... but I blocked him. So, that's done.)

In short, if you think you know me, you probably don't. If you think you can define my kink, fuck you. Pardon my French. If you think the way to get me all hot and bothered is to start ordering me around and treating me like trash when you haven't earned that right, you don't really get me at all.

I Miss the Bruises, The Collar, The Submission

My soul is a broken field plowed by pain.
~ Sara Teasdale
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Stars hid your fires. Let not light see my black and deep desires.
~ From The Talented Mr. Ripley
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"Intimacy is based on shared vulnerability...nothing deepens intimacy like the experiences that we share when we feel flayed, with our skins off, scared and vulnerable, and our partner is there with us, willing to share in the scary stuff"
~ From The Ethical Slut by Dosie Eastman and Katherine Liszt.

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I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don't mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don't mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling -- all that I am capable of doing -- but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.
~ Anais Nin

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This post will probably be a crossover post both here and on my Polyamory blog. It concerns one of those gray areas in my life, not specifically categorized as my "ethical non-monogamy relationship style" or as my "kink." These things have always been rather blurred around the edges. In this case, I think a dual-post is warranted -- if only to let you, dear reader, know that I have other blogs, for your reading pleasure.

The quote above by Anais Nin really speaks to me. I want to be dominated, by a man I can trust. I want to give my end of the tightrope to a man who can bear its weight and maintain the tension so that I can dance along it. I want to look into his eyes and see the physical, mental and spiritual strength I need. I want to know that he recognizes my intelligence, my strength, my beauty - and loves me enough to "sort me out" when it's needed, as Poppy would say.

I have two incredible relationships.

Husband and I have known each other for more than forty years, and have been together for nearly twenty-five. He is the man who has always taken care of me, spoiled me, watched out for me. He is my rock, the father of my children, the Poppa to my grand-babies. (No, I'm not a grandma... I'm a Mimi - a sexier, younger version of a grandma.) We've been friends since we were both fourteen. He's loved me longer than anyone except my parents, grandparents and siblings. I love him, and can't imagine a life without him.

Shepherd I've know not quite a year. We met online and spent one Saturday talking about polyamory. It's not like me to ask for someone's phone number, but at the end of the day, I did. After several more conversations, I learned that Shepherd was a Top, and a sadist... I was just beginning to explore my submissive side, and to learn that I am a masochist. I love the relationship I have with Shepherd. I didn't expect to fall in love with him so quickly, or so deeply, but I did. The connection we share is amazing, and I am in awe of it, every single day. We both have primary relationships, and we purposely honor the other loves in our respective lives. I love him, and plan to have him in my life for the next forty years.

I'm sure to some, what I'm about to say may sound selfish --- greedy. But I want more. I need more than what I'm getting from these two relationships. I don't blame either of these men I love for not being who they cannot be. They give me incredible happiness and I would not change the nature of either relationship. But I miss being dominated. I miss knowing that someone is always there to sort me out, to push me to be my best, to use me and adore me.

The thing is that much of what I need I get in my relationship with Shepherd. He is very good at dominating me. Being bottom to his Top is incredible. But we only do this every 8-12 weeks when I fly to Dallas for the weekend. As I said before, I wouldn't change the way Shepherd and I interact. He is just what I need him to be. I miss him when we are apart. But in terms of needing more than Shepherd and Husband, I miss being dominated, miss submitting completely to someone else's will. I miss that constant presence, that strength hovering over me protectively. I miss wearing a collar, and belonging to someone who will punish me when I need it, and reward me for being good.

The lines here are blurry. Shepherd and Husband both protect me, and take care of me. Shepherd uses me, bruises me, gives me the pain I need. I think perhaps the variable is mental and emotional. I need someone different. Someone who doesn't give me too many options, or too much leeway. I read sub girl's blog, and Poppy's submissions and her posts like this one on the blit she shares with Devlin, and I long for more. I just wish I could figure out what it is I'm looking for... and how to get it.

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/zeytingozlu/5193309272/)

I suppose this one is to be continued...