I’m all tied up at the moment

The story about the bound hugfriend:

He is quite dominant, my hugfriend. So I tied him up. Not really like that maybe, but basically.

I’m not the ma/ist/e/ress of ropes at all, and he isn’t either, so I figured we should play around and workshop a bit in a nonsexual way to see what we could accomplish with our 10 metres of rope. Turns out that “nonsexual” was not one of the things.

I started out tying his feet together and attaching that to a rope I then attached to a leg in each corner of the bed (two lower corners, you know). He couldn’t move much, but a little. There was enough space though for me to put a knee between his thighs and force his legs apart (fun!). After checking he got blood to his feet and everything was tied securely enough I tied up his arms in a way that he could get out of with a little work, but that would feel sturdy enough. Took some work, but I had a lot of fun (fun!). Turned out he had to. Or well, fun might not be the right word here. But he did like it. I never heard anyone so angrily ask pretty please to get to fuck me.

Had fun, got a bit unsecure about my role and dropped out of dommie headspace, loosened up the knots. Then my turn. He tied me up in some strange kneebending way that was actually both quite comfy and good, I was impressed. And much closer to a good subspace than I’ve been with anyone in ages. Interesting change is that when he untied me, I was the opposite of what I would have thought. I wasn’t all Oh THANK you LORD mighty HUGFRIEND of supersexay sir whatever, but what I said was “I’m not finished, fuck me with your hand, now”. And he said “oh, ok”. And there was light (possibly fireworks). I came out of subspace into a new and improved silia deluxe. I sort of liked that. I usually never asks for things sexually, but I realized that if I want those orgasms, I better tell. Even if he gives them often enough, I can’t just wait around like some christian girl hoping jesus will fulfill her wishes anyway. If the prophet isn’t coming to the mountain, the mountain will have to shape up and move it’s ass to the prophet.

Good night it was anyway. And I’m gonna think about it for a while longer, since it’s a month until I see him again and I just can’t bring myself to go out and pick up random person for sex in the meantime. I’m getting old and lazy.
Speaking of no sex for me, anybody have any good altporn links?

This whole sub-thing, I’m doing it wrong

Ok, people, a question for you:

How the heck do you ever manage?

I find myself constantly mixing up my roles and getting even more confused. So please, pretty pretty readers, tell me how you do to separate that subby little person inside of you with the one who is supposed to have a normal functioning relationship.
I know that if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m intelligent (enough intelligent, at least) and can see through myself (a bit) I’d end up in an abusive relationship where I’d just succumb to this deep desire to just you know, be punished for being me. Since according to me, I’m always wrong. And probably needs to be punished. Possibly killed.

To be sexually submissive (switchy, really, but mostly submissive) and combine that with a mind that constantly tells me that I’m horrible, is not the best of ideas.

I really just want to tell the hugfriend “Take away my rights, control everything, and please hurt me a lot.”. I’m not doing that though, because I’m not a teenager and I do understand that I’d only get even more fucked up in the process. Please note that I’m not a painslut, so I would more suffer than enjoy myself anyhow most of the time.

Can anyone else reckognize themselves in this? I’m aiming for the overkill while writing this, but you know, the general feeling.

I mean, how normal is it to oh-gazm while thinking of your hugfriend drowning you, because you accidentically woke him up by calling to early. (The calling did happen in real life, and popped up in my mind while working my way towards the Oh.)

I know normal might not be a concept we really aim for here, but I’d say even a very liberal therapist would think that’s over the line.

So how do you do it people? How do you keep yourself sane and functional, without turning into a complete doormat, when the option is within reach?

(Ok, hugfriend would never let me go doormat on him, but if I’d lowered my standards far enough, I’m sure there’s plenty of middle aged men with redeveloped babyfat that would just love to assist me on my road to doom.)

If I'm gonna be a doormat, this is the doormat I want to be.

//Silia

oops

“I’d love to see you on all four, in front of some hot guy who would just fuck you senseless”

“you.. what??”

That’s a more or less exact transcript of a discussion this sunday, when I told my very much heterosexual male play/love/hugfriend (hugfriend? I’m keeping that one, from now on, he is my hugfriend) that I’d like to see him get fucked. We didn’t get much further than that, but jumped right into the discussion about why. And why? Well, first of all, to him, being penetrated means being submissive. We all (yes, all of us) know that that’s not true, that you can be the one recieving and still be the top, or dominant. Also, to him, being penetrated is something for women and even if he is a good feminist and all, he still thinks of the female role as submissive. Which is one good reason I had so much fun tying him up and fucking him… But that’s another story.

To him, surrendering to another man and getting fucked would be the horror of horrors. He might maybe possibly let me penetrate him. But that’s a huge maybe. Why would it be so horrible? To me it’s really strange this completely hetero mindset, where he really finds men that anti-attractive. There really isn’t anything for me to compare with.

The rest of the sunday continued with constant comments in the lines of “well, you just want to see me get sodomized anyway”.
I really tried to explain that there is something irresistible with the thought of his masculine, manly beauty combined with the pain and humiliation he would feel from enjoying such a thing. Not that I know if he’d enjoy it, but if he would, that face would be just.. ah. This explanation didn’t help at all.

//silia

My kinks vs yours aka mine are normal, you’re just weird

Having a partner that just recently opened up to the world of  lovely kinky sex opens up a world of trouble. Mostly wonderful, exiting and interesting trouble, but also some trouble I’d rather live without. For example the trouble I wrote about in the last post, but that wasn’t what I had in mind just now.

The trouble that I’m thinking of is the Problem With The Colliding Kinks. It’s nice to discover that he likes to hit me and fcuk me until I cry of happiness and pain. It’s nice to discover (for him) that I, while close to orgasm beg for him to hit me. It’s nice all the ways to rainbows and happy bunnies bouncing all over the place to find our mutual fascination for fantasizing about old school harem girls and boys, tied up in some tent in the desert, waiting for their owner to use them. It’s nice even more to notice we both like when he smears my body in his cum and makes me lick his fingers and then kisses me (oh god, how hot it is with a man who likes the taste of his own sperm on me. Oh god oh god oh god).

Then suddenly he says something like “I’d like to fuck you from behind while you are eating chocolate cake. I want you to stuff your face with it while I fuck you until you come”. And I’m all weirded out. Yeah, sure, that could probably be nice, but eating and fucking at the same time? That seems messy and complicated. I would be all for drenching my body in something like youghurt and then fucking me, because it’s soft and milky and probably feels nice to the skin.. But eating? Concentrating on swallowing, the taste, stuff like that? I’ll probably try it, but I feel a bit estranged by the idea.

And the problem is very clear here, for any one doing kink. You have to respect eachothers kinks, weither it be that he wants you to take a shit and make him eat it, or she wants to be dressed like a whore and you prefer her to be naked. You can’t just go “Uh, that’s horrible, I hate the idea of you licking vomit from my face”, no, no.. it’s not like in vanilla land, where everything is bad, no, here nothing can be bad. It’s just different. Suddenly you end up with a whole range of variations on the lines of “yeah, that’s interesting baby, but it doesn’t do it for me”. Why? Why can’t you just be a hardliner on your dealbreakers and say no fucking way and get it over with? Because it might have taken ten years for this person to get to the point where they dare to trust any one enough to tell about this.

I know I felt really bad when my half fetish for pearls and necklaces got a bad reception when I told my last kinkfriend about it. I felt like a complete idiot. And that’s not even a very strange or dirty secret.

So, I guess, as Marie Antoinette (or whoever it was)  would say: Let me have cake.

//silia

I come crashing

Yesterday, I fell asleep. This isn’t abnormal or strange in anyway. But it’s how the story starts.

I fell asleep at the bed, still fully dressed, quite early last night, and my lover was sitting in the sofa doing things. After a while I woke up from him coming over to me and thinking that sex might be a good idea. Normally, I find the whole wake-up-and-fcuk scenario quite sexy, but this time I completely panicked. Witch is a rather strange and complicated process when “no, no, NO, fuck, NO, DON’T” normally means “yes”. Use the safe words! I can hear you scream in unison. But srsly, how easy are they to remember when you just dragged yourself out of sleepy land?  I kept falling asleep again, waking up and panicking, falling asleep, waking up, falling, waking, falling. Everytime I couldn’t keep my eyes open I was scared witless that he would do something without knowing I didn’t want it while I didn’t have 100% focus.

Because it is my responsibility. I can’t just tell him “here ya go, kid-o, take the power over me and do nasty stuff all you like” and then expect him to know when to stop. How is he magically suppose to know that this time it might feel like rape, when I liked it yesterday? How could I ever blame him if it went wrong, when it’s such a messy safe space for signalling right or wrong? Especially since he isn’t used to this. And I would never forgive myself if i’d let him hurt me unknowingly.

Sex opens up for a whole range of emotions, and both parties always has the responsibilty to make clear how they feel about it. I can’t leave it all up to him, and he can’t leave it all up to me. Just as much as we both need to listen. I know it’s a cliché, but it became so extremely clear to me yesterday while I panicked. It was the first time that happened to me. And, not so strange that it happened either, first of all I was asleep, but also, earlier while we were having sex and we were switching position it started to hurt in a bad way and we had to quit. The fear of sudden pain was still in the back of my mind. That combined with his way of talking, witch is normally teh sexay, lapsed me into defensive mode. I’m just glad he understood that something was wrong.

Of course it didn’t just end with hugging and talking. No, we had to have a huge row about feminism afterwards, ending up with me being wrong and a complete asswhole and him being right. Confusing? No shit. How handle that? What started out with me being more scared then I’ve been in years, ended with me being utterly stupid.

And now, it’s a new day, and I’m going back home to the north, and I can’t even find it in me to get turned on. At all. I’m utterly not up for it, today. Understandable, yes, but ok? No. And here comes the next question. Is it ok to have sex for the social value of it, or is that doing him wrong? Would I make this even more messy if I decided to have sex anyway, ignoring my lack of lust, after this crash thing?  How do you people handle your crashes?

And don’t start saying that “you should never have sex unless you feel horny enough”, because that’s complete bull. You don’t always have to be horny and all in to have sex. I’m betting most of you have had sex because your partner was up for it and you just wanted to be nice. After a while the body gets going anyway.

Anoya, godess of things that get stuck

The other day I wrote in my not so anonymous blog about disrespecting women (it bugs me I can’t just link to the stuff, but wouldn’t be too anonymous here then, now would it?), and I’m gonna go wild here on teh internetz and quote myself from a post about … friends … being misogynistic.

[…] My … friend … called and we talked a bit about the allowance our culture makes for misogyny, and without having read my blog (I don’t even think he has the adresse here) he casually drops into the convo that it was just a phace, by the way. I’ve stopped feeling like that. So how to handle that? I was prepared at first to  go for the thank god- never mind it all then approach. But I’m not much for forgiving things like that. Not if it doesn’t come with a big does of self analyzing and thinking. You can’t just think it’s suddenly ok because you stopped noticably feeling like that right now; because it might come back. If I tended to constantly fall over while walking outside, and then suddenly stopped for let’s say, five days, I would (hopefully) not just brush it off with it was just a phace, I walk much better now. I’d still check why I keep falling over.  […]

For quite a while he had been going on about how he distrusts women, how women are horrible sneaky manipulative bastards and so on (sometimes I felt like just shoving my vagina to the phone to remind him that I, the other half of the conversation, is female.), at the same time as claiming to be feminist. And being negative to misogyny. Hello bullshit.

This is a bit like all those lovely natural doms out there who believes in equality, and of course women should be allowed to work and vote and own property, ‘s just that my woman is fragile and can’t handle all that, so I’m disallowing it, for her sake, in my home. .. And then I’m gonna call what I do BDSM and call myself lifestyler. Instead of just admitting that I don’t like the idea of women having rights.

I am completely and utterly sure that a lot of men that claims to be doing BDSM-stuff is just using it as a cover up because they despice women, or look at women as less worthy humans. It’s somewhere around when you say of course women should have equal rights as men that I start thinking about the oncoming “,but… “.

Here are some examples with pedagogical explanations:
“Of course women should have equal rights as men,

…..but Ilike my women to be in pain when I fuck them”

There is no oxymoron here. People can be absolutly 100% equal, and still be in pain. There is no “but” necessary to carry this sentence. You know why? Because the “but” here, it sort of makes me think that the pain involved is non-consensual.

…..but in my house, I want to be the man”

Oh, ok, so being a man and accepting equal rights is not possible? Interesting.

…..but she is much better then I am on keeping track of things.”

Ok, that one wasn’t even related to BDSM, but it sneaked in there. God damn it, get a calendar! Learn how to clean! How hard could it be?

….but she likes it better when I make the decitions.”

Same thing here, seriously, that doesn’t make it unequal, since she is allowing you to make the decitions. Don’t forget that power is not something you take, but something you are given. Just switch the but and put in an and instead, and it all feels much better.

.. Ok, maybe it’s not at all like that. But hey, it’s early morning and I’m annoyed, everything is related then.

//Silia