Pleasure is my business, my life, my joy, my purpose.

Tag: want Page 1 of 2

I Want to Be the Lover

As I lie in bed getting ready to sleep tonight, I think of you. Yet again. This is especially the time my thoughts turn to you, when I’m too tired to resist them wandering in your direction, when I’m too tired to stop them after redirecting them for most of the day.

Tonight, though. Tonight my thoughts about you are curious, interested, and sad. They are always sad these days, full of grief over the relationship that never really was. The relationship that had so much potential and so little actual. And yet also contained so much.

I’ve been sad a lot these last few weeks. Going through a grieving process, certainly, and no longer able to hide in the distraction from the rest of my life that you afforded me for a while. Plunged back into the cold waters of uncertainty and fear for a while, and I’m just starting to get out of them now. Hopefully.

Tonight my thoughts turned to the way you often confused me with someone else, mistaking my motives or intentions with your abuser. I’ve experienced that from others in my life as well. I am, at this point, very used to the weight of other people’s projections onto me. Often I run from them, as unfortunately I do not yet have the skill to counter them. Yet. And my chameleon tendencies makes this process extra complicated.

I realized, though, more than I have before, why I keep choosing people in recovery. I realized I was choosing this a while ago, and was worried that means I am abusive or power-seeking. I believe is the opposite. People in recovery allow me to be small, and keep me invisible, keep me unseen. It’s easier to be unnoticed when the other person is taking up all the room. And recovery takes up a lot of room by necessity.

It takes a lot to heal from the deep wounds I witness and am drawn to. Part of my work is to help these wounds heal. Part of my work is to recognize and heal these wounds I have in myself. It is easier for me to be the healer than the human, the priestess than the lover. It is easier for me to be in a role than myself, easier to be helping than vulnerable. And I want to be vulnerable. I want to be human. I want to be a lover.

I was really trying with you. I tried so hard to be vulnerable, to be human, to be me. I still went into that priestess role sometimes. I still tried to help heal you. Those other roles will never not be there, of course, but I really am trying to be me now. Trying to be all of me, or as much as I can handle in any given moment. As much as me will show up through the fear and the uncertainty. Slowly, more and more of me is coming out.

Deep Into Me

I want you to find the constellations in my freckles
This map that the sun has called forth from my body
Each a little mystery, a portal into me
Opening myself to you.

I want to know you fully and intimately
Every soft, hard, smooth, scarred, or hairy inch of you
Explored by my eyes, my fingers, my mouth
Finding all of your depth.

Driven to Distraction

I can’t get the image of you fucking me out of my head.

This isn’t just an image in the visual sense. When I think of it I can feel the ghost of the sensations you evoke within me across my body. My cunt clenches around the lack of you. My chest aches, missing the caresses and the pain from your fingers, lips, tongue, and teeth. My fingers curl, wanting to feel your skin beneath them, to hold you closer as your hips pump your hardness into me.

Why is it that every time we fuck it just makes me want to experience your hardness inside of me again? My nipples are sore and aching today because of you, not surprisingly. I have a few bruises on my thigh and one where your teeth dug down deep into the flesh of my breast.

I want you.

On Longing to Meditate on the Will of Someone Else

I miss the feeling of steel encircling my neck. The weight of it made it difficult for me to sleep on my back, and I still have difficulty sleeping that way, even though it has now been over nine months since I last wore it. It lost its meaning long before that, though.

The garnets inlaid in the steel ring began falling out of it months before it stopped living on my neck. We replaced them, one by one, but they never stayed in place for very long. I knew that their falling out marked that the power dynamic we had crafted and worked to forge over so many years was beginning to end. We were both so tired of pushing and pulling and talking and talking and talking but never seeming to ever get what either of us wanted or needed from the other. There were problems and circumstances, as there always are. I’m sure I could have done many things better, but it was what it was.

I have only ever been good at service and surrender in my imagination, which was a large part of the problem. The reality of it has never quite worked out the way I see in my head. There is part of me that still yearns for it, though, that has always yearned for it. I’m yearning for it especially now that it has been absent for so long.

I’ve changed so much in the last few years, and so much more in the nine years since we first talked and in the nine months since I’ve not been wearing his collar. I wonder if I could do it right the next time, if I could dedicate myself to serving in whatever way I could make work. I wonder if I could surrender myself in the way that I crave and fantasize about. Or am I too stubborn, too bratty, too unreliable and unwieldy to ever experience what I really want. I wonder if I could actually do it, and I think I have changed enough that I could. I am better at relationships now, better at knowing and communicating my own desires. I have had glimpses of it in myself and see the potential of it there, but it’s never panned out in the past.

I’ve been working consciously on vulnerability, on opening up, on surrendering, but all of it outside of the confines of a power dynamic. I think that has been good in some ways, but the submission dimension of my life has been shut off for too long. I couldn’t make it work in the years that we tried, and so I abandoned the wanting of it long before nine months ago. In the last nine months, though, I let myself forget what it felt like to kneel at the feet of someone and pour myself into their hands. I let myself forget what it felt like to have consistent subtle reminders of being owned and loved in that way all in order to not allow myself to feel the pain of the loss of it.

I miss feeling owned. Claimed. Held. Treasured.

I want to sink into the comfort of the will of someone else and put myself aside with the trust that I will also be taken care of. In my work I get to do some of that now. I get to focus on what is best for them and put myself aside, but the reciprocity is purposefully not there. In the rest of my life, though, that aspect of it has fallen away.

I wonder if I have the time to add it back in, though. That’s the rub right there, I think: time. It seems that this would need to be with someone new. I’m fairly certain none of the people I’m currently seeing have the craving in them to be served in this way, or the time to make it happen themselves. Between school, work, and the partners I already have I don’t know how I could add someone else in to the mix like this, but I want to. I want to know, to figure it out. I have a wonderful girlfriend that I get to Top, and Onyx and I engage in kink and rough sex, but it’s really not the same. Due to how our lives are now I don’t think this is somewhere I can go with either of them, even though I would like that if it could happen. I could experience the occasional surrender with each of them, the bodily sexual experience of submission, but probably not the experience of a sustained power dynamic over time.

I do need to find another person to be with, in all this spare time. This deep need in me to submit isn’t getting met and doesn’t seem like it will any time soon. I would enjoy for that person to be one that I can lay myself bare to, and one that I could grow for as well as with, but this seems like it might be more work than I have the ability for. If nothing else I need someone to submit physically to regularly in a way that I am not experiencing, and maybe service in other arenas could be part of that as well.

Now that I am allowing myself to remember the longing for surrender, submission, and service that is within me it is beginning to feel overwhelming. I miss the warm feeling I would feel in my belly when kneeling next to him with my head against his thigh and his hand in my hair. The comfort of the heavy steel pressing on the nape of my neck. The feeling of being owned. Someday I’ll have that again.

The phrase “meditating on the will of someone else” in relation to service submission came, I believe, from a video of Mollena’s on Kink Academy that I watched many years ago.

Expectations and Rituals

Note: I’m posting this in October of 2013, but I’ve backdated it to over a year and a half ago because that is when I wrote it and when the experience happened. I just found this in my drafts folder and didn’t want to just delete it.

Onyx and I had kind of lackluster sex the other night. A great part of that was my fault, I think, or maybe it all was my fault. We went to see A Dangerous Method earlier in the evening, which I thought was excellent. Anyone with an interest in psychology, especially Jung, and who doesn’t mind (or really enjoys) watching some hot sex scenes and spanking ((though not enough of them, imo)) should see it. I found it quite arousing and have been really craving some rough treatment for quite some time so I was hoping that would be sparked by the movie at least a little bit.

Really all of my problems could have been avoided with some simple direct communication, which is clear in hindsight but sometimes in the moment it just feels like the last thing I could possibly do. Doesn’t make it right, though.

When we got home I removed his coat and shoes as usual, as soon as that was done we both were in need of food, he grabbed an apple and promptly sat down at his desk and became absorbed in his computer. I think what irritated me at that point was just that we had both talked about the movie and how stimulating it was on our walk home, but when we got home there was little interaction between us and I was hoping for more. I set up expectations but did not really do anything to help them happen.

As a slight aside, I’ve become a little irritated with our preparation ritual–my putting on or taking off his boots and coat before/after he leaves the house. It was originally implemented as a way for us to connect and it has become just that thing that we do, no longer a ritual but a habit. Not even that, despite how often we have been doing it with some regularity it is also sometimes forgotten. I believe some of this would be helped quite a bit if I were to simply up my enthusiasm for the act, and I have tried to do so today with some success. Perhaps we could add something to it to make it fresh and new again.

I grumbled and bratted, for some reason unable to voice what was going on with me or to make it clear what I wanted, and so we both remained unfulfilled. We were able to talk about what happened and our individual frustrations about it, but we were not yet able to get to the place of either of us getting what we wanted. Why is that? What is stopping us? Why can’t we just get what we want?

Jack Off

It wasn’t sexy or elaborate. Really it was downright mechanistic ((a fabulous old post from Ellie Lumpesse, read it if you have not before!)). It had been a while since I had rubbed one out alone and the fast-paced lives Onyx and I have been living lately haven’t lent themselves to as much sex as either of us would like. It was time to remedy this situation.

I didn’t even move the pile of freshly washed clothes from on top of the bed, just nudged them aside so I could lay down ((I have more in the washer and dryer, I will put them all up at the same time. What? Don’t judge me.)). I grabbed my Eroscillator, pushed aside my underwear, added a little lube, and arranged it to just the right spot. It had actually been a while since I’d gotten off with it, my Wahl has had preferential treatment as of late with its amazingly deep and strong rumbly vibrations. I had almost forgotten how much I love my Eroscillator, but tonight I was reminded.

While the Eroscillator has nothing on the Wahl as far as the bang you get for your buck (($12.49 on Amazon! Seriously! Go get one now! I thought this was such a good deal I even bought one for my best friend for no reason other than it is wicked cheap and she needs one.)) I forgot just how deep and different the oscillations are from normal vibrators. It still produces a different kind of orgasm than any other toy, one I can’t put into words even though I’ve been trying to finish this sentence for ten minutes.

Though I had contemplated my Eleven or Pure Wand, my go-to dildos, I decided to forgo the internal stimulation. It wasn’t needed when the goal was release but not effort or sexy intricate fantasy. It still wasn’t many orgasms until I felt the need to squirt all over the bed.

Yes, many orgasms. When I come I can’t just stop at one, I’ve never really been able to. Onyx has tried to stop me after one and discovered just how irritating I can be when not fully sated. Although I suppose that implies that I am ever fully satiated and I’m not sure that can be said. There are times when I am exhausted, finished, and needing a break, but sated? Those are usually the same times that my clit burns ((not from the chemicals in the lube, just from wonderful overstimulation!)) as if to say “I NEED MORE.” There is often a point where I am unable to deliver or even come anymore but I wouldn’t call this sated.

I contemplated squirting for only a few seconds before dismissing it. I didn’t have my Throe under me and I wasn’t about to ejaculate all over the clothes I had just washed. Plus, this was mechanistic so the effort to get it and position it just right before coming again so I could ejaculate just seemed like too much work. Although even now as I write this I can feel that delightful pressure inside of me telling me to release it, a sensation I used to compare to needing to pee but now I know the difference.

So I came and held myself back from squirting, which in and of itself made the experience slightly less satisfying. How many times I came I don’t know. I always used to lose count after three so now I don’t even attempt anymore. There’s probably an app for that ((Orgasm Counter for the iPhone?–or not, since Apple is all anti-sex apps, but it sounded good anyway)). I stopped, even though my clit was screaming at me to keep going, and stumbled out of the bedroom in a post-orgasmic daze.

Delving Into Power

Two weekends ago Onyx and I attended a Delving Into Power Intensive with Lee Harrington, an intimate ((there were 16 of us total I believe)) three-day workshop focusing on power exchange within relationships to “create the non-egalitarian relationship of your dreams!” Going into it I felt rather content with our relationship as it was with the knowledge that there was, of course, room for improvement and was startled at what was brought up in me. I introduced our relationship to the group as an Owner/Brat dynamic, which is close to the truth. I’ve been thinking of replacing Cunt with Brat in the normal way I describe my role with Onyx, but that’s another post.

A lot of the information presented included things I had thought about before that Onyx had not or things that Onyx had thought about that I had not or things that we had talked about in our previous relationship with each other ((the years before the triad)) that we hadn’t explicitly talked about in this one ((since I returned from Alaska last March-yes I consider the post-triad relationship to be a separate one)). It was especially refreshing to be around other kinky people, something that has been missing in our lives for the most part as we’ve been focusing more on the occult community here rather than the kinky one ((eventually my hope is to be part of a kinky queer occultist tribe, which is starting to happen)). We were both able to get some perspective on our own desires and feelings by being in such a group.

There was so much wonderful information I won’t even go into it, mostly I want to talk about some of my reactions and the changes in our relationship since then. I love to be a brat and part of that love is to elicit a firm hand in dealing with me, basically forcing Onyx to reign me in (consensually! ((or, lately it has been consensual))), but something that came up over the weekend was my equally strong desire to submit and be of service. The latter is not something we have been exploring in our new relationship as much as the playful force that bratting brings in at least in part because of our failure to implement it in the old one. We had such difficulty with trying to view service in a particular way and trying to include that in our M/s relationship but now that we’ve in an O/b relationship ((I am not defining the differences here at the moment, but I am sure I will be talking about them soon in another post!)) for nearly a year and we’ve gotten comfortable with that the service and submission aspects need some focus.

We had a long talk on Saturday during a break between class and dinner/play party time that was most wonderful. We both expressed some things that had been building up within us and were able to come to some conclusions as to what we each wanted to include in our relationship. I was having trouble that day because I was feeling like I didn’t fit in for various reasons ((all in my head)) and because I felt like I was failing Onyx ((or I was being set up to fail)) partially due to lack of explicit instructions. Onyx doesn’t like giving out explicit instructions but I need them, something we have had lots of trouble with before.

There was a lot more we talked about, including the spiritual path we are currently on and our own issues that we have each been dealing with. We expressly communicated about the things we each need and want and ways for us to begin getting that. It was refreshing and amazing, exactly what had needed to happen, and took us one step further in our relationship. Realizing my service desires that I had been squelching with him for so long was freeing. I had doubts then about our ability to actually implement some things that we were wanting due to our past experiences, but those doubts are nearly gone now.

We haven’t had the time to talk too in-depth about our power dynamic since the weekend long workshop because of work and then going to another workshop this past weekend that was not kink-focused ((which I will also be writing about)), but we have been able to begin some practices that have not only worked to shape the new dynamic that is forming between us.

The primary practice we’ve been putting into action is a daily checklist so I am accountable for the work I do. I’ve previously complained about feeling like I never get anything done or I don’t get enough done even when I do get things done. I’m still working on figuring out this self-employment stuff. I’ve also been a little lax at my cleaning duties. This daily checklist allows me to feel accomplished when I do get things done and for me to be sure I am doing something for Onyx every night as well, plus I have a fetish for lists ((both making and crossing things off of)).

I’m excited to feel like we’re moving forward into uncharted (by us) territory. We have new ideas and a great many things we want to include in our relationship as it goes forward. There will be plenty of road blocks ahead but I feel like we will be able to encounter and move through them all. Along with the workshop this past weekend, which helped me release some things I have been needing to for quite some time ((you will just have to wait for the other post for more on that)) and I believe the same thing happened for Onyx as well. It has been a transformational couple of weeks.

There has been a general shift in our dynamic because of the communication, interaction, and introspection we were able to do both individually and with each other. I feel so much more connected and in tune than we were before, and this last year we’ve been so much more connected and in tune than we were before that! It seems like we’re just getting better and better, which is truly amazing.

Many/And Not Either/Or

My gender often comes in waves, cycles, variations; I often have gender swings that can last from a few hours to a few days.

Lately I have had trouble feeling at home in my body, which isn’t exactly a new experience but it is not constant. There is rarely a time that I hate my body as a whole, most of the time I wish I had the opportunity to morph my breasts at will. Not my cunt, just my breasts. I feel I would be perfectly content with the ability to morph from having my own gorgeous breasts to having a flat and possibly hairy chest, or perhaps I would look like Ardhanari most days if I had that choice. Or maybe not. I don’t feel the need for a penis, perhaps because I already have a variety of silicone cocks I call my own.

Currently my masculine presentations are extremely underdeveloped. My masculinities are timid and fragile. Even writing this I can feel them resisting posting this, but I persist.

Sometimes when Onyx is at work and I’m home alone I will put my sports-bra/binder on, pack, and change my hairstyle around. I make myself more masculine or androgynous in appearance than my usual femme drag. Sometimes I put on my suit and tie. Other times I dress up in masculine style clothing and put makeup on.

I say this happens when he is at work because my masculinities are shy and frightened of reactions, positive or negative. My masculinities are not sure how to take a compliment without feeling insecure. Thus I do not show my masculinities to many people or very often, not even Onyx who probably knows me better than anyone. It’s not like the few times I’ve shown off my masculinities in public there have been any negative reactions, in fact quite the opposite.

My gender presentation is only one small part of my gender and it does not define me, but we are taught to judge genders on presentation alone. I think this is often the cause of friends bypassing the fact that I have these masculinities in me. My presentation is very femme-focused at present. While this bypassing is completely understandable it is at the same time hurtful that people who I have conversed with about my genders still seem unable to grasp them.

Despite still embracing femme fagette I am rebelling against the binary assumptions that could be made because of it, it is easy to infer some sort of feminine/masculine balance within it. That may have been part of its original intention, I’m not sure at this point, but it’s not something that I need anymore. I don’t know what I do, though. Perhaps just genderqueer.

I used to say femme drag queen fagette, which just got less and less manageable as my list of identities lengthened and I also began wondering if I was appropriating a term that “belongs” to those assigned male at birth. I’m not sure about the last part, I’m still pondering that, but I don’t want to step on any toes or give the wrong impression. Regardless, though, drag has resonances with me. I am always in drag.

I love drag, in fact. My gender is drag. It’s over the top and fun. My gender is glitter and black leather and gentleman steampunk and corsets and ballet heels. My gender is neutral pronouns and postmodern. My gender is very tangible and also a construction.

I am many/and ((This might make more sense as both/and when combined with either/or but “both” seems to put a limit on what I am trying to express.)) instead of either/or.

I know and participate in gender as a galaxy. A swirling mass of gender planets, solar systems that we all can orbit like moons or pass by as moving asteroids, comets or space ships. Personally, I’m forever exploring every gender I come across to find the ones that feel like home. There are just many that feel like home. I have planets I love to visit from time to time and others I have set up homesteads on, building up my own thoughts, feelings, and presentation of that gender.

I am finally at a space where I am comfortable with owning my gender, but I’m not yet comfortable with sharing it completely. I struggle with the need for my various aspects to be seen and acknowledged while at the same time trying to do things for myself rather than for others.

My gender is constantly in motion even though I sometimes hate the uncertainty that constant change brings and sometimes I wish I could just “pick one and stick to it.” That doesn’t feel like an option right now. I’m not sure if it ever will be.

Lights, Camera…

Not too long ago near the beginning of this month I answered a post in the Seattle Area Personal Ads group on FetLife (login required) for a project titled Process of Pain for Raise Your Fist Productions. It explores masochism, giving a taste of what pain is, what masochists and sadists love about pain, how we play, and other various things. I was very interested in doing this and Onyx agreed to be part of it as well, as a part of being in the documentary was agreeing to do a scene on camera.

Last Monday Amanda came over and we shot a breast play scene. Onyx pulled and twisted my nipples, slapped my breasts, pulled my hair, slapped my face, and made me come on camera. He also used crops, a cane, and nipple clamps on me. It wasn’t a super heavy scene, though there was a good amount of pain, and we didn’t fuck on camera but I did come multiple times. Amanda said she got some very nice shots. She’s filming other couples for this as well and I’m sure I will post about it again when it is done. I’m very excited to see the finished result.

It’s brought up a lot of interesting things for me, as I’ve always loved porn and for a long time I’ve had a fantasy about doing it, though I’ve not always had the body-confidence that I have gained over the last few years. I’ve been seriously considering exploring phone sex work again in the last couple months, I made a couple NiteFlirt accounts but have not yet utilized them to their full potential, and now after this experience I’m seriously considering getting into ethical queer pornography as well.

I say ethical queer pornography because that’s the only type I would be willing to do. This documentary was a great first step, I think, it proved to me that it was something I could do on camera, and I enjoyed doing so. I have a lot of theatre background and have been on stage and in front of the camera many times so I always kind of new I would be able to do it, but there was always some doubt. Now that doubt is gone.

I’ve also recently been reconnecting with my Goddess Babalon after a slight deviation from her path and I believe that getting in to sex work and pornography would be a great act of devotion to her. She was part of the reason I started exploring phone sex work two years ago as well.

Since filming I came across this quote while reading Demons of the Flesh: The Complete Guide to Left-Hand Path Sex Magic for the Sacred Sexuality Book Club Onyx and I are hosting at our place which first met today.

“The moral pornographer would be an artist who uses pornographic material as a part of the acceptance of the logic of a world of absolute sexual license for all the genders, and projects a model of the way such a world might work. His business would be the total demystification of the flesh and the subsequent revelation, through the infinite modulations of the sexual act… the pornographer has it in his power to become a terrorist of the imagination, a sexual guerilla whose purpose is to overturn our most basic notions of these relations, to reinstate sexuality as a primary mode of being rather than a specialized area of vacation from being and to show that the everyday meetings in the marriage bed are parodies of their own pretensions. –Angela Carter

Peacock Hair


Papageno 4 by selfmade1

I found and used this on last week’s Pleasurists and love it so much I wanted to share it here too. I’ve become enamored with peacock feathers lately and want to do this to my hair. That is all.

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