A new-old change in direction

This blog used to be the place where I wrote about everything kink-related. My experiences in the community, my lovers, my thoughts on relationships- everything.

But somewhere along the way it turned into my sex blog. Where I write my fantasies, my sexiest thoughts and kinkiest desires, but nothing else.

That is not what I choose for this space to be anymore.

So.

Here's where I am right now.

I live in a beautiful little 1940's house with 2 of my partners, Jack and Airen. My house was built as officer housing for a nearby Army base, and while the neighborhood is now quite diverse, I prefer it that way. My home is filled with antiques I've inherited, but I hope it doesn't feel too much like a house filled with antiques to visitors. I love my furniture, my china and silver, but in the end it is 'wood and metal, wrought in pleasing form,' to paraphrase Jacqueline Carey, and what it means to me is replaceable.

Jack and I have been together for 5 years now, and Airen and I are approaching one this April. Jack has his own bedroom, his own little cave to retreat to, and Airen and I share the master bedroom. This is not a comment on any hierarchy, but merely on my darling Jack's antisocialness.

I was asked to join the Board of Directors for the local TNG group which was the first to welcome me home to my kink community.

I was awarded the title of Ms Southeast Olympus Leather 2011, and in August I'll compete for International Ms Olympus.

This is my graduating semester of undergrad, with my BA in Psychology. (I dropped my Sociology double-major down to a minor in the interests of graduating and getting on the job market).

I broke my collarbone in January, and have been in a sling since then, and will be in one until June.

I recently started a new relationship, which I have absolutely no idea how to label, except that it's so much like what I had with Lucivar that it terrifies me.

So yeah. Busy, much?

I'm currently in Ft Lauderdale, FL at Beyond Leather, and badly need to wrap up this rambling entry on nothing terribly important so that I can go downstairs and actually be sociable and not make my producer and judges regret giving me this title.

An apology and a memory

Beloved one,

I woke up yesterday with tears hot on my cheeks, fear clawing at my chest like a beast trying to rip its way out through my ribs.

I knew that you would leave, knew that you would walk away as surely as I knew the taste of bile in the back of my throat.

There was no doubt in my mind that before day's end, I would lost you.

But when I talked to you in the morning, I pasted the smile to my face, letting myself take honest joy in what I knew would be my last conversation with you as Mine. I reveled in your sleepy voice, high and soft and rough with sleep. I bathed in the soft sounds of joy you made when I told you that I loved you, wrapping them like spun glass in the recesses of my mind, a tightly held balm against the pain I knew would come. I listened to your rustling movements in bed, seeing you in my mind's eye sprawled in your soft sheets, and I smiled even as tears burnt the backs of my eyes.

And then I went about my day, I wandered alone in a city 3,000 miles from my home, idly watching the people around me. I noted their movements, smiled reflexively at those who greeted me, and all the time my mind was full of you, full of all that I knew I would lose. Your face, soft and open when I'm inside of you, your smile wise and kinder than you'll admit when I am small and frightened. Your hands small and quick and nervous when you clean. Your tremulous smile when I kiss you as a man, and your slow, wicked grin as you ride me. Your face lighting with passion as we chat for hours about the things we love, your narrowed eyes and manic smile when you hurt me, your shy eyes when you curl up tight against me. A hundred thousand images flashed before my eyes and broke my heart a hundred times over: you folding clothes, obsessively neat. You at work, focused and proud. You curled close to me, watching a movie. You hurting me, mad eyes and tender hands. You spread out before me, a feast for my senses. You shopping, movements graceful and restrained. You at my dining room table, laughing and talking. You grinning sideways, that delicious, wicked expression. You on your couch, primal and barely restrained. Every image a glass shard in my heart, ripping me slowly, inexorably open. Over and over I saw you, everywhere that I looked. Architecure I wanted to point out to you, dresses I wanted to laugh with you over, pretty boys with their hipster hair I wanted to laugh with you about. Sad murals I wanted to share with you, good food, all of it wrapped around my heart like barbed wire and I bled inside.

Finally, with heavy steps I came home to talk to you, dreading every step, afraid of every word I'd have to write. When you greeted me, I was both afraid and joyful. I leapt into the conversation because I knew that if I didn't, I'd never have it. I'd give in to the temptation to conceal it from you, the nagging hopee that maybe I wouldn't lose what has become so precious to me.

Every keystroke punctuated by a tear, by a stabbing sensation in my chest, by the certainty of loss.

...and then you didn't.

Then you were quiet as you conferred, and you simply accepted in me what I cannot accept myself.

And then you told me that you love me, and the tears spilled out, spilled open in me and my heart was still bleeding but it was marked by joy now and the disbelief that this was really happening.

Were you truly still here? Would I still really be able to hold you, be able to taste your lips and hear your precious voice? It was too much, too deep, too sudden,and I couldn't believe it, couldn't process it, could only curl into myself a release the shaking sobs that had hidden inside of me all day.

I still have trouble believing it, still have to reach sometimes for the twine you had me tie around my wrist, my tangible reminder of your love and your presence.

I still keep waiting for you to change your mind, to look at me with horror and disgust, and just as you told me so long ago in the darkened car... you prove me wrong. Every time.

I've never been so grateful to be wrong before.

I love you.

Missing him

I am having trouble tonight.

Trouble accepting that he is gone, trouble knowing that he is not in my arms tonight and will not be again.

It is a day for regrets: foggy and bleak, everything edged with a grey soft focus lens.

In the store today, I accidentally sprayed myself with the cologne that the man who raped me wore.

I wanted to call him, wanted to whimper in remembered agony and hear him soothe me.

I saw makeup today, lovely bronzed earth tones to suit his golden skin and I wanted to buy them, wanted to paint him like the beautiful whore that he is....... only not for me, not anymore.

Most days, I understand that what we have chosen is right for both of us. Most days, I love him and accept his choices with reasonable grace.

But today I don't want to. Today I woke up afraid and hurting and missing him with a fierce aching sense of loss that nothing assuages.

Today, I miss him.

Actaeon

Actaeon and I are no more.

We are still very close friends, but he is no longer my boi.

We're okay. I'm okay, so please don't worry.

Actaeon is 23. He will be awarded his Master's degree in his chosen field this upcoming May. The entire world is open to him, and he deserves the freedom to explore it- without the emotional fetters of a relationship as committed as I seek.

I love him. He loves me.

That is not in doubt, nor has it ever been- this is a mutual decision, and we respect one another's needs.

Gods, that sounds like counseling psycho-babble! But it's true. Yes, I'm hurting and grieving a bit, and so is he. But it's a clean wound, and beginning to heal already as we help one another through it.

What this means for the future is that we will still hang out (he's coming over this weekend again), we will still play some and attend events together, but the commitment of a relationship is no longer there.

In 'formal' D/s terms, we've gone from a Master/slave relationship to being a Top and bottom who are also very close friends.

I'll start hunting again for a boy soon, but not until after the Holidays. It's too stressful, and I won't put Jack through that over the Holidays.

Meanwhile, I'm planning a Winter Solstice Party and possibly an Orphan's Christmas Dinner.

I love you all :)

Zhai'helleva

Kat and I said goodbye tonight. 

Actually, it was close to zhai'helleva than goodbye. 'Goodbye,' is a shorter version of "God be with ye," and in our culture it indicates an ending. A leaving. 

Zhai'helleva, however, is a phrase from Mercedes Lackey (shut up, I'm a fantasy buff. Deal) which means, "Wind to thy wings." It acknowledges the parting, but focuses not on the leave-taking, but on the hope of good fortune for your companion. 

It means that the parting is irrelevant, only the people and the emotions matter. 

Kat was my first submissive, and I cannot tell you how much that he taught me. He gave me a confidence in my own dominance that I could not have started this blog you're reading, or many of my other myriad projects, without. 

In many ways, he taught me my own dominance. It was his deferential smile and hopeful offer of a footrub which propelled me into the world of public kink and true polyamory. He taught me what I can handle as a dominant (not just a Top), and what I can't. He taught me so much, and I will always be grateful to him.

But I do not have room in my life right now for that responsiblity, and he deserves better than that. Also, he is developing a budding relationship with a lovely woman, and his loyalty and interest is rightly situated there. 

So tonight we sat down, and we agreed that it was time to part ways, and that we had been huge, wonderful influences in one another's lives. 

Zhai'helleva, my katzelein.

Interlude

He is lying back on our couch, while she lies between his legs, her head resting on his chest. 

Every so often, he reaches for her hair, drawing her head back and kissing her deeply. She whimpers, writhing against him as her body begs for what it hopes is coming next. 

And he smiles, and drags slow hands over her skin. 

Realization:

Strap-on sex feels like *sex* to me. Not like sexPLAY, but like *sex*. Intimate and scary and vulnerable and beautiful.

Just had a long discussion with Jack about where that means it falls in our definition of poly.

As a general rule, things that feel like sex to him are out: oral/anal/vaginal/shared masturbation.

Strap-on sex doesn't feel like sex to him, but it does to me. Where does that leave us?

Gist: It's still okay. As long as it doesn't damage the intimacy between us, which it doesn't for either of us.

What all this translates to? Say hello to my next toy:

Newsflash

Being curled up between two extremely attractive men being petted and fed ice cream just fucking rocks.
Seriously?
I am the luckiest woman on earth.

Poly and D/s

Where are the lines drawn?
Where do the rules intersect?

The most basic rule in BDSM is that the Top gets their way. (Ok, so technically the bottom controls the scene and whatever else, but that's the idea of it anyway)
The most basic rule of poly is that no one moves forward without everyone's consent.

So how can you be both poly and D/s?
Especially as a Top?

Ok, this is kind of a trick question. I don't really see a problem with it. Jack and I had some issues in the beginning, because he grew up only knowing monogamy. He was completely squicked the first time I suggested he have sex with someone else without me being directly involved. Now, though? I've been trying to get him laid for months, and he's cooperating rather well for someone who's totally antisocial by nature :)

So here's where I throw my $.02 in.
Consent. Everything we do, both as kinksters and poly folks (those of us who are either, or both) is about consent.
I wouldn't dream of tying someone up and beating them without their consent. That's abuse.
I wouldn't dream of playing sexually with someone without my partner's consent. That's cheating.

Maybe this issue is more clear-cut for those in pure Dom/sub relationships. Or at least, in my fantasy of them- the Dom says, "We are poly," and then they are. The Dominant (in an M/s relationship, at least) has 'implied consent' on behalf of the submissive. Or at least, that's the theory. Most states don't accept that anymore, and nor do most subs.
See, so I know better. I was in a submissive relationship for a while, and it sure as hell didn't work that way. No Dom in their right mind, who actually cares about their sub, makes blanket decisions like that without taking the sub's desires into consideration and soliciting their input. To do so would be an engraved invitation for the end of the relationship, with much strife and drama in the meantime.

But for those of us like Jack and I, who are both mostly Toppy and very vanilla as partners, it's, um, even more complicated.
Because it means I didn't get to decide one day, "Hey, I miss being poly! Hey Jack, we're poly now so I'm going to go play with this person!"
*laughs*
I wish. Seriously.
It took months of negotiations, discussions, and boundary-setting. Hells, we're still not all the way there- Jack is still totally uncomfortable with me doing overtly sexual play with someone he doesn't feel a connection with himself. Don't ask me why, I don't gte it either. But it's his thing, so I respect it even when I don't understand it.
Because we're partners, and that's what that means to me.
He doesn't get my love of horses. But he respects it. We're partners.

I'll be honest- it was hell for both of us. I'm naturally poly, so I honestly don't understand his feelings of fear of rejection, his jealousy, his desire for monogamy. I have no way to relate to them, so when he brought them up, my instinct was to tell him that he was being silly, to 'get over it'. I'm not going to leave him for someone else- with poly I don't have to!- so what's he getting his knickers in a twist over, anyway?
Yeah. Not Bella's most mature response.
And poor Jack, raised with monogamy his entire life, who'd never even *heard* of poly before he met me, suddenly finds himself with this girlfriend who can't have sex with him, but wants the freedom to be sexual with other people. WTF?!
Poor guy. I'm a shitty girlfriend sometimes, seriously.

So we negotiated. And we still negotiate. Every new partner, every new step, we negotiate. On my end, he's got blanket permission provided that it's barriered. As far as I'm concerned, he can fuck who he wants (although I get veto power!), beat who he wants, and even just snuggle with who he wants, because I feel totally secure in the fact that he's still coming home to me.
On his end, we negotiate. He's come a really long way, but this is still uncharted territory for him. I have blanket permission with girls (what *is* it about straight men not finding other women to be a threat? To be somehow *safe*? Misogynistic bastards, all of them!), but with guys? Yeah... negotiations central. I swear, I could talk people out of hostage situations by this point, I think!
But it's worth it.
It's worth it because every day when I wake up next to him, he feels secure in our bed, in our relationship.
It's worth it because every time I come home high from beating the CRAP out of someone else, he smiles to see my excitement because he knows that I'm still coming home to him.
It's worth it because now that I'm strap-on shopping, even though he has no interest whatsoever in them, he looks with me and gives me his thoughts on them, and enjoys my excitement.

Sure, our negotiations about my taking Kat as mine caused some pretty serious fights. Sure, I got pissed and felt like he was choosing to be a pain in the ass about the whole thing. Sure, our negotiations about Terry and Lucivar took hours of one day, and the idea of all of them in my room at DomCon gave me anxiety attacks several times.

But it's worth it, because I know that everyone in my life has a security, a surety, of where they stand with me. They know that I love them. They know what my rules are, and they know why. We may not all like them all the time, but we know them. My lovers know that I won't abandon them, won't just walk away because Jack is upset about something. And Jack knows that no one will ever take him away from me.

Do I bemoan the constant balancing act sometimes? Do I think how much easier all of this would be if I were single sometimes?
Well, duh. I'm human.
But when I wake up in Jack's arms with wisps of the memory of someone else's scent on my skin, and I know that this is a safe place for all of us... well, then, there're no negotiations that aren't worth it.
Maybe I don't get to be MistressGoddessUberDominaFromHell and say, "This is my will, so mote it be!" but you know what? Most of them don't get to either... at least, not those in healthy relationships ;-)

Realizations

Some part of me still believes in happily ever after.

The little girl in the back of my head, the one who remembers watching "Sleeping Beauty" over 500 times in one year.
And no, I'm not exaggerating.

She believes in Prince Charming, and forever.

The rest of me knows that Prince Charming is really a drunk frat boy, and forever is a myth.

But there is still a part of me that believes the myth, believes the sugar-coated cyanide lie, and still lookf for it.

Every new relationship, I go through a period where some part of me thinks that maybe this will be my fairy-tale ending. Maybe this time will be happily ever after. It never is. It never will be.

Even if it could be, I'm not cut out to be a pretty domestic princess in a fairy-tale castle.

But some part of me wants to be, and it's a fresh wound, every time that I realize it won't happen.

Rambling thoughts on responsibility and poly

Disclaimer: No, there's not a damn thing wrong. I'm having an absolutely amazing time at DomCon, including meeting the lovely Bunny (Lucivar's work-girlfriend), and the room arrangements are working out better than I could ever have hoped for. Jack and I had an absolutely wonderful time co-Topping Lucivar, and Kat is his usual wonderful self- seriously, I'm having a wonderful time, I'm just being hormonal so deal with it. It's my blog and I can whine if I want to.

I'm so tired. Goddess help me, I'm so fucking tired. I'm tired of all of it. But mostly, I'm tired of being needed, of being the responsible one. I'm sick of being the one who gets th ebills paid, who reserves the hotel room. I'm tired of being the one who makes the lists and ensures the pets get fed.

I'm so tired of being the one people need.

I need, just for a little while, to be with someone who doesn't need me. For whom there's nothing going on but the touch of warm skin. Someone who I can trust to take care of me- someone I can be safe needing, without them needing me back.
Actually, it's not that. It just that I've been the one in charge, the one responsible for too long. I just want to run away for a little while, to hide against somoene stronger than me. I need to not be the strong one. Problem is, I don't know many people who fit that bill.

I need, just for a little while, someone to be stronger than me because I need them to let me be weak. To let me give the responsibility to them. Just for a little while. I'll take it back, I promise.

But Kali's skirt, I'm so fucking tired.

Please, can I just hide against you for a little while? Just relax, just pretend for a little while that I don't have any responsibilities?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you knew that you would die today
Saw the face of God and love
Would you change?
Would you change?

If you knew that love can break your heart
When you're down so low you cannnot fall
Would you change?
Would you change?

This song feels really poignant for me right now, for some reason. Yesterday, I talked to Wolf for a long time about poly.
Specifically, about the fact that we'll never be together again because I am poly and he is possessive. Those are simply facts of life, like saying that he is male and I am female.

He kept going on and on about how it was a choice I had made to live this way, and it was hard to explain to him that I do not choose to be poly anymore than I choose to be bi. I could choose to never act on it, but I would still naturally be poly, and it would no more feel right or fulfilling to me than a straight marriage feels to a gay man. Sure, it's a choice, insofar as acting the only way that you can and still be happy is a choice. So this song is especially poignant right now, as I struggle with some guilt for not being what Wolf wants me to be. I can't be. Not and be happy. I love him, but eventually, I would come to resent him and be angry and we would lose not only our relationship but the friendship that is so precious to me.

So I think about this song, "Would you change?"
No, actually.
"If you knew that you would die today, saw the face of God and love, would you change?"
No. No, I really wouldn't.
Because I love who I am and what I do. Because I love the people in my life, even when I want to strangle them for the very fact that they are in my life.
I love my boys, all of them. I love my life, when a night in the quiet room reading a book is more novel than a night at a fetish club during a major BDSM convention.

"If you knew that love would break your heart, if you're down so low you cannot fall, would you change?"
I wouldn't change because I have been there. Love has broken my heart- loving Wolf, actually- and you know what? I healed. Sure, there are scars, but scars are marks of valor. They're signs you've lived your life.
I've been there. I've been down so low I could not fall. I have had times when I did not know where my next meal would come from, times I gave very serious thought to suicide and even worked out the best way to do it and spare my loved ones as much pain as possible.
But I healed. I healed, and I built this life I love.
I wouldn't change, because not only do I love my life, but I feel like I'm living the best life that I can. I tell my boys, all of them, damn near every day how much I love them. I try hard to make damned sure that my loved ones know how much they mean to me, how important they are to me.
I work hard and I play hard. I volunteer with the Red Cross, I recycle, I'm active in my UU church and do more than most, quite frankly, to make my world a better place.
And most importantly to me, I work hard to make the people in my life's lives better for my having been in it.

Sure, there are things I could do better. I'm lazy, and I'm self-absorbed. I'm selfish, and I take things for granted. I am the last person on Earth who will say that I'm perfect- because I'm not. Nowhere fucking near it.

But I'm not half bad, and I think I'm doing pretty damn close to the best that I can.

Bruised inside

"Out Is Through"
Alanis Morrissette

Every time you raise your voice
I see the greener grass
Every time you run for cover
I see this pasture
Every time we're in a funk
I picture a different choice
Every time we're in a rut
This distant grandeur

My tendency to want to do away feels natural and
My urgency to dream of softer places feels understandable
The only way out is through
The faster we're in the better
The only way out is through ultimately
The only way out is through
The only way we'll feel better
The only way out is through ultimately

Every time I'm confused
I think there must be easier ways
Every time our horns are locked on towel throwing
Every time we're at a loss, we've bolted from difficulty
Anytime we're still made of final bowing
My tendency to want to hide away feels easier and
The immediacy is picturing another place comforting to go

The only way out is through
The faster we're in the better
The only way out is through ultimately
The only way out is through
The only way we'll feel better
The only way out is through ultimately

We could just walk away and hide our heads in the sand
We could just call it quits, only to start all over again
With somebody else
Every time we're stuck in struggle,
I'm down for the count that day
Every time I dream of quick fix I'm assuaged
Now I know it's hard when it's through
And I'm damned if I don't know quick fix way
But formerly mistreat me silence now outdated
My tendency to want to run feels unnatural now
The urgency to want to give to you I don't want most feels good

The only way out is through
The faster we're in the better
The only way out is through ultimately
The only way out is through
The only way we'll feel better
The only way out is through ultimately

Jack and I had a meeting with our therapist, the inestimable Gloria Brame, today. It was... hard. The discussion started out really sounding as though she felt that we should break up. We told her about the growing distance, and the abortive attempt at intercourse that ended with me flashing back to the rape and then having panic attacks all the next day.
She pointed out that I have been feeling pressured recently with everything going on, that I feel guilty about enjoying myself so much when I'm out (where I don't feel pressured). Then, I get home, feel pressured to not show the guilt and 'fix' things (after all, I'm the female- fixing relationship things is my job), and when I can't I feel more guilty, more like escaping, and more pressure to come home and fix it.
Nasty cycle much?
So that growing pressure somehow equated in my head with the pressure I felt during the rape.

The conversation continued, and Jack got steadily more uncomfortable, feeling like what I really want is open poly and he's keeping me from that. Eventually, he got up and started packing again. I was torn between screaming and crying, but I kept the conversation going and just updated Gloria.

I folowed him in and forced the conversation a little, not letting him shut us out, and we eventually talked through it again. He has been feeling like he is holding me back, and I have been feeling like I'm dragging him forward. We've both been having a lot of trouble processing and dealing with that, but we agreed (after much more discussion) that that's okay. We balance each other, and that's no bad thing- I'm impulsive, selfish, and self-absorbed. I just am, and I'm okay with that- anyone who can't deal with it needs to not be around me. I dive into things headfirst, with boundless enthusiasm and a frightening capacity to get hurt- having someone slow me down and force me to stop and think my way through things is no bad thing.
And he gets weighed down by inertia, so having someone tugging him forward is no bad thing for him either.

Anyway, there was more to it than that. A lot more. The highlights, however, are that we love each other, we're committed to one another as primaries, everyone else is temporary. That we need to make a bigger effort to reconnect (more time out together and gym time, we're thinking), and that we want to keep trying.
And that neither of us has the right to end the relationship until we move.

Oh yeah, and that we need to make out more :-D

Wolf

Wolf and I talked tonight. Like, for a while.

We talked about our past. We talked about that vague, nagging hope that we both have for a future together.

Wolf : Hugs. Thinking of you. Kisses.
Me: *tight hugs* I've been thinking about you all day. How are you love?
Wolf: Miss you bunches.
Me: Miss you too. I'm feeling really strangely vulnerable tonight and I'd give a hell of a lot to curl up against you
Me: You make me feel safe, and I'm kinda really wanting that right now
Wolf: I'll always do my best to keep you safe.
Me: I know, love, and that's one of the reasons it's you I'm craving right now
Wolf: You always bring out a possesive protective animal side of me
Me: *nods* Do you remember that I told you once that you make me want to both roll over and show you my belly, offer you my throat
Me: And at the same time sink my teeth into yours and claim you as mine
Wolf: Makes me want to hold you and take you all in the same breath.
Me: *nods* Exactly
Wolf: Not sure what to feel/do. I have so many mixed feelings
Wolf: I want you to make your decisions. And live your life as you want it to be.
Me: Which is admirable, but how can I make a decision without it being an informed decision?
Wolf: I don't want to influence your decisions.
Wolf: I want them to be yours
Me: Wolf, you've been influencing my decisions for nearly 10 years. What makes you think that will change now?
Wolf: You know how I feel.
Wolf: And what I want.
Wolf: But I'm not going to push you either way
Me: *nods* I do know. But there's more than loving and wanting to anything. And other than that loving and wanting, I don't know what's going on in your head
Wolf: I've made mistakes with you in the past. I'm trying not to do it again. I do care. Way more than I should. More than is probably good.
Me : *tight hugs* We've both made mistakes. Your mistake wasn't pushing me, it was pushing me away. Don't ever be afraid of pushing me in regards to how you feel.
Wolf: But I wouldn't change how I feel even if I could.
Me: *smiles* Good, because neither would I
Wolf: I'm trying not to let myself get scared and push you away again.
Me: I know. And you have no idea how much I appreciate it. You really don't. The way you've let yourself be open to me has been.... incredible. I don't know the words for how much it's meant to me
Me: this just came on my pandora and made me think of you: Tracy Chapman "Baby Can I Hold You"

One of the things that killed us 7 years ago was his inability to open up to me. I felt vulnerable, but in an unpleasantly one-sided way. I was completely transparent to him, to use the D/s buzzword, but he was utterly opaque to me. So I took that the way that any 17 year old would: obviously, he didn’t care enough to talk to me. It never occurred to me that maybe he was as terrified as I was. It never occurred to me that maybe he was scared and hurting, too. After all, he had gone to great lengths to portray himself as strong and in control and confident.

Give me a break. I was 17 and I worshipped him. I didn’t know any better.

Now, I look at him, at us, at what we used to be, and what we have been, and could have been, and could still be, and I wonder. I wonder if maybe we could do it right this time.
And then that cynical side of me raises her pragmatic head, and I wonder how he’d handle me cutting Lucivar’s chest and licking the blood from the wound. And I wonder how he’d handle my sleeping wrapped around Kat and him kneeling before me. I wonder what that possessive animal side of him would think of me coming home with someone else’s scent rubbed into my skin.

And that’s when I sigh and realize that I doubt I will ever have him again.

The joy of poly

So DomCon is coming up. Rapidly.
I'm looking forward to it- a lot- but I'm also a little scared.

Jack and Kat are both great guys. They also both have some possessiveness about me. I don't know if either of them actually realizes it consciously, but I do, and they see it in one another. Among other little, amusing/frustrating things, they both have this possessive touching thing going on when around one another. As in, if I'm in the same room with the two of them, whoever I'm closest to has to be touching me, usually in small, possessive ways. It'd be funny if it weren't so frustrating.
Like I said, they're both great guys. They both, consciously, understand the others' claim to me and respect it. But instinct is not so rational, and neither of my men are poly by nature. This is hard for them, and I respect that.

And yet, fucking emotional masochist that I am, I booked a hotel room at DomCon for all of us. Jack, Kat, Lucivar, and me.
What the fuck was I thinking?!

I'm not real bright sometimes :)