Saturday, October 29, 2005

We've moved

We've moved!
We've had terrible trouble with Blogger. Couldn't get T on here to save us. So we've set up a new blog... It is called The Heron Clan --

I think all the links are there, and all the old posts are there as monthly archives. It isn't as elegant as I'd like but it is up and running as of tonight. Hopefully our friends will be able to find us there... Please...?


Thursday, October 27, 2005


Is trust something that is felt, or something that is done?

Is it passive, or active?

A given, or a choice?


Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Master's Tender, Sensitive Side

Jewels ( has told us that she worries that people only see one side of Master, and that they have the impression that while He is very bright, He is also evil, and arrogant, and wickedly mean... Well, there is some validity to that. He makes His career out of that bright, arrogant, and (when necessary) wickedly mean personna. A good political advocate and champion doesn't "win" for the people who need Him by being sweet and soft spoken when it comes time to go after what He wants and believes in. The people who depend on the advocacy work that Master does, need that "killer" instinct He brings to bear on their behalf -- and He is damn good at what He does. Make no mistake about it.

On the other hand, He isn't always the "tough guy." Sometimes, even Masters need rescuing.

Take this morning for instance... There was "an incident."

Early this morning, as I was preparing to leave for school, and Master was doing the things that He normally does to facilitate that process -- fixing breakfast and my lunch and moving the cars around, He started to go out our front door.

Except a BIRD had taken refuge on the front porch. You see, it was cold and rainy last night. There was a large, empty flower pot out there on the porch and the BIRD had taken refuge from the storm. Master opened the front door, stepped out, and the BIRD ATTACKED Him... Scared the bloody hell out of Him!!!

You see, Master is deathly afraid of birds... Pretty much all birds. Canary, robin, starling, humming bird, eagle -- doesn't really matter. Birds freak Him out.

He told me the BIRD was about THIS BIG (picture something about the size of a chicken), and that He thought it probably had sharp teeth. He really didn't know what kind of BIRD it was -- only that it was vicious and determined to try and kill Him and that there was no way that He would be able to get next door to see T this morning because, after all, the BIRD was still out there.

Poor Master.

I finished my breakfast. Headed for the front door. Opened it up. Stepped out and shooed the mourning dove off the front porch. Silly creature just wanted to stay out of the rain. I think, however, it had had just about enough rotten, crazy people for one morning.

Poor BIRD.

I'm surprised He keeps a swan around here, if you really want to know...


Do you slow down to look at accidents on the highway?

Interesting bit of data.

I keep a statistic counter on here. Nothing very fancy, but it tells me about number of page loads, etc. I check it from time to time. Satisfies my curiosity about how many folks are actually looking...

What shows up rather dramatically, is that while all of that twisting and turning was going on here a month or so ago -- while folks were agonizing over the agonizing... The number of hits on this blog hit all time highs. Nearly doubled.


The other interesting bit is that, as I've settled down and calmed down and found a quiet place at the center again, all those page loads have dropped away rather dramatically. Seems serenity and calm is boring. Pain and agony is much more interesting to read about.

Taking note of that.


Blessing the Whole Self...

Sometimes Kids really get it.

I teach in a small Catholic school. Since I am not Catholic, I participate in the religious life of the place with reverence, but at some distance. That sometimes gives me an interesting vantage point.

Every Monday morning we take the munchkins off to mass. From big ones to little ones, the whole gang marches off to church. The two oldest grades are matched up with the littlest kids as "buddies" for this exercise, partly to help maintain order, and partly to help in the educational process of how the whole thing works. So my 7th graders take kindergartners to church each week.

There is one little guy who looks like an angel. If he'd been painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, he couldn't be more adorable. With blonde hair and great big, innocent eyes, he is simply as sweet and perfect as a small child can get -- and as clueless about the proceedings as a five year old might be expected to be...

At the beginning of the gospel reading, Catholics go through a ritual blessing of themselves that involves making the sign of the cross, with the thumb of their right hand, on their forehead, lips, and then finally over their hearts. It is a gesture that they all make very automatically and very quickly. This little guy has obviously been taken to church often enough that he has picked up on this move, or perhaps he's been taught it.

At any rate, on Monday, I happened to be watching him as this particular moment arrived. Everyone made the appropriate blessing gesture, including my little angel boy. However, he didn't stop with the requisite forehead, lips, and heart -- he proceeded on down the torso and made the sign of the cross on his penis as well!!!

Heathen that I am, I thought I might lose it right there in the midst of the faithful. It was so utterly pricelessly innocent and perfect. So wonderfully genuinely sweet and so grand. I kept it together, knew no one but me saw it, and sang a song of praise to the god of children and blessed penises...

Glory be!!!


Sunday, October 23, 2005

Say What???

Ever since we did all that Myers-Briggs business, I've been gnawing on this little bit from Master's profile --

"ENFPs...have a strong need to be independent, and resist being controlled or labelled. They need to maintain control over themselves, but they do not believe in controlling others."


I got caught in some fairly significant cognitive dissonance with that piece. So did He, to be honest.

There is simply no question about the Dominance under which I live, or where it comes from. So, when the concept of His not liking to control others was thrown out, it was something of a conversation stopper, to say the least. I've been mulling that one over ever since.

Here's where I am with it at this point.

I think it is true. He is not interested in "controlling others." Not even me. Control is mundane and mostly boring. He figures I can do that myself, and I suspect He prefers and expects that I ought to do it. In fact, when I don't do it, He gets annoyed. Much of the problem that blew up a few weeks ago when things spiraled into a crisis around here arose from the reality that my emotions took me to a level where I was no longer doing that.

There are those in the lifestyle who engage in a kind of power exchange that involves minute levels of control of the submissive partner by the Dominant partner. I think that such relationships have, at their core, a payoff of a very high level of "attentiveness." There is the certain surety, on the part of the submissive member of the pair that they are "seen" by the Dominant. Notice is a given in such dynamics. You cannot control at such a level without attending very closely to the details of the submissive's life and daily routines.

The dynamic here is not founded in that sort of exchange. I am owned, and that does not change when He is not looking at me, or focused on me in the moment. My life is service to His wants, needs, and desires. Too, our agreement is founded in an assumption that He will care for me and for my needs. That foundation remains even if there is no clear and immediate direction or communication from Him to me to reinforce it. The ownership is overarching.

Sometimes, life intrudes. There are significant demands that pull his attention and energy away. My role is to remain in place, to serve, to stay still, to hold the center. I know who I am, and to whom I belong. I do not need His control, even if I might sometimes want it.

There is the safety of the place that I curl into curl into when it is time to sleep each night -- pulled tightly under His chin, listening to His heart and His breathing. In that moment, I understand, that I can control, what is given to me to control by the one who owns my heart -- always and all ways.


War On Porn

When Sunday morning rolls around here, it's time for TV's talking heads. Today, George Stephanopolis and Tim Russert and the gang are all fussing about Harriet's Supreme Court nomination and the impending possibility of indictments from the Special Prosecutor's office -- all important news, but there's another bit of news that is under the radar for most people I guess. Alberto Gonzales, is waging a War on Porn. Backed by the Religious Right, with their enormous influence on this president and his administration, a law which was intended to protect children from the pornography industry, is being turned on those of us who have nothing at all to do with child pornography.

If you read very far on the blogs, you've heard about it as NCSF gets involved, and the highest profile names in the lifestyle begin to pull the plug on their websites. That's because "They" are coming after "Us" simply because they have enough political clout to do it. They've extended the definitions of obscenity to include just about any mention of just about every kink one can imagine, and are determined to apply the law to any an all text and image occurrences of what is, by their definition now, pornography. That's us, friends.

Back in the dark hours after the election last November, I remember feeling fear that the country I'd known and loved my whole life had suddenly become a place that was now scary and unwelcoming -- a place where I was no longer safe. That sensation has now come to fruition. My government is now actively engaged in prosecuting people like me, simply because of how I live and think. The reality is that there is nothing about my lifestyle that is harmful to anyone. I live and work and contribute in my community as a responsible citizen. I do not harm anyone, nor does my lifestyle. The attacks that are being launched by my government are the result of a determination that my "way of life" is unacceptable, even when that way of life is not imposed on or even visible to anyone else (unless they actively choose to look).

I am honestly afraid. I don't know how far these people might go in prosecuting this stuff. I fear they might go as far as they can get away with. I know that, should they choose to take it to the limit, I don't have the means to fight them. They surely could destroy me and mine. How much of a risk should I take? Should we take? Ours isn't the "juiciest" blog out here, but we have surely talked about our BDSM lifestyle. There's plenty here, if someone wants to make an issue. Sigh.

I do like this letter from Carnal Droog's site. I found it compliments of a link from Danae:
Time to make some decisions I guess...


Thursday, October 20, 2005


Gabriel's been musing about the ethics of Master/slave relationships over at Once Bitten . There is surely food for thought in what he has written. It is worth considering, for those of us who do this, and for those who read about those of us who do this, or care about those of us who do this. The notion that there is (or could be) some ethical / philosophical foundation for our practices is, I believe of value to explore.

However, Gabriel's discussion, and the re-exploration of the Myers Briggs type profiles of these last few days has pushed me off in another direction. Coupled with some sort of low-key murmuring coming from various comments here and there (on our blog and on others as well), I've begun to hear a sort of sound that I suspect asks the question, "why do you do this?" It is really about the wonderings of people who, when they see obvious discomfort, obvious struggle, obvious unhappiness, consider whether the relationship dynamic that I live within, and even the relationship itself might be unhealthy, abusive, or even just plain wrong. There've been intimations that my Master is just an awful, abusive, evil, rotten, worthless, son-of-a-gun, and the general sense from more than one corner is that, if I were in my right mind, I'd be out of here.

So, I've been in a mood to ponder the "why" question of staying in a relationship when that relationtionship is not (at least in the particular moment) one that is an easy fit, or in its present configuration or manifestation making me "happy."

I'm feeling like I can do that today because I'm actually feeling pretty solid, stable, sane, and yes, even happy.

It should go without much explanation, that my relationship and my choices are mine. They fit me, and they work for me. What I have to say here is in no way meant to be prescriptive or descriptive for anyone else. Nor is what I have to say here intended to elicit praise or admiration or sympathy or support from anyone. I am attempting mostly to make things clear for myself.

Ours is a relationship that is grounded in deep and abiding love and affection. It is also firmly founded in an M/s (total power exchange) dynamic which includes SM elements (primarily erotic and disciplinary adult consensual spanking). We believe that we were "meant" to find each other, and that we have quite possibly (likely) shared other lifetimes together. There are many specifics of out power exchange dynamic that would seem very informal, perhaps even casual, to an outside observer. That is what works for us. There is underlying that, an absolute definitive line which we understand which binds us together and which is, for us, not subject to question.

It is that line, when it becomes evident, that I believe brings some to a point of questioning our relationship. Because, when I run up against the line, in places where it actually matters to me, I react. Sometimes sharply and sometimes with a great deal of intensity. To become intensely and immediately and fully aware of the exact place and moment and manner in which one has lost some part of a formerly held bit of personal control can be shocking. It is radically different than to simply contemplate the possibility of that eventuality.

I am a strong-willed, intense, bright, proud woman. Such places give me pause. Sometimes they cause me pain. Sometimes they even frighten me. I react. I struggle. I rage. I curl into a ball of fur and claws and spit and hiss and get downright ugly. I am not an easy slave. I think that Tanos has written about the reality that he refers to as "reactance" within Master/slave relationships. I first read about it on the Internal Enslavement website. It describes the internal resistance that can be experienced when one encounters these moments where what was "mine" becomes suddenly "not mine." When that becomes an actuality beyond just a theory, it can be a real shock and can generate a very visceral reaction.

I honor and envy those for whom the path into slavery is peaceful and serene and calm. I am in awe. It is not the way I seem to go. Each new stretch is a stretch.

I still stretch. For me, this is a learning experience. A path to walk. I chose this, knowing that there would be joyous and glorious moments, shared with a man that I loved, and that I knew loved me. That has remained a core truth. I also knew there would be challenges. Some of what I imagined, what I feared, has never materialized. Some of what I never imagined has come to be my life.

I learn daily.

When I lived inside of a socially sanctioned, completely normal, absolutely vanilla marriage, raising two children, and doing all the regular stuff that my society had taught me I would and should do, I encountered things that stretched my ability to encompass them. I had days that made me terribly unhappy, and I ran through periods of great emotional upheaval and bitterness. I came to view that relationship as a laboratory for learning about life, and more importantly for learning about myself. I came to know the limits of my patience, the depths of my strength, the power of my love. In the end, I came to know fully who I was and was not. I understood that it was better to live free and outcast than to be "accepted" if that meant I had to live a lie of a life. It was because of the crucible of that sad marriage that I garnered the courage to take the steps toward finding the road out into the possibility of my life.

I know that some see my struggles and my sorrows and my anguishing over the hard days, and wonder if I've made a good choice. That is perhaps my failing. I do not sing enough of the sunny songs and the happy days. Still, I know the whys. I know that I am well and strong and deeply loved and cared for in the depths of a family that is good for me. I know that while I may rage and growl and whine and whimper, that the One who holds me WILL hold me (tightly or loosely) as He sees fit. I know that what others see of my life is only what I write here, through the haze of my wonderings. Somedays that is clearer than others. None can be blamed if the words do not paint the picture better, brighter, calmer, sweeter.


Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Portrait of an ENFP

And once you get this started, there's no stopping. Here's Master:

Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving

The Champion Advocate Inspirer

As an ENFP, your primary mode of living is focused externally, where you take things in primarily via your intuition. Your secondary mode is internal, where you deal with things according to how you feel about them, or how they fit in with your personal value system.

ENFPs are warm, enthusiastic people, typically very bright and full of potential. They live in the world of possibilities, and can become very passionate and excited about things. Their enthusiasm lends them the ability to inspire and motivate others, more so than we see in other types. They can talk their way in or out of anything. They love life, seeing it as a special gift, and strive to make the most out of it.

ENFPs have an unusually broad range of skills and talents. They are good at most things which interest them. Project-oriented, they may go through several different careers during their lifetime. To onlookers, the ENFP may seem directionless and without purpose, but ENFPs are actually quite consistent, in that they have a strong sense of values which they live with throughout their lives. Everything that they do must be in line with their values. An ENFP needs to feel that they are living their lives as their true Self, walking in step with what they believe is right. They see meaning in everything, and are on a continuous quest to adapt their lives and values to achieve inner peace. They're constantly aware and somewhat fearful of losing touch with themselves. Since emotional excitement is usually an important part of the ENFP's life, and because they are focused on keeping "centered", the ENFP is usually an intense individual, with highly evolved values.

An ENFP needs to focus on following through with their projects. This can be a problem area for some of these individuals. Unlike other Extraverted types, ENFPs need time alone to center themselves, and make sure they are moving in a direction which is in sync with their values. ENFPs who remain centered will usually be quite successful at their endeavors. Others may fall into the habit of dropping a project when they become excited about a new possibility, and thus they never achieve the great accomplishments which they are capable of achieving.

Most ENFPs have great people skills. They are genuinely warm and interested in people, and place great importance on their inter-personal relationships. ENFPs almost always have a strong need to be liked. Sometimes, especially at a younger age, an ENFP will tend to be "gushy" and insincere, and generally "overdo" in an effort to win acceptance. However, once an ENFP has learned to balance their need to be true to themselves with their need for acceptance, they excel at bringing out the best in others, and are typically well-liked. They have an exceptional ability to intuitively understand a person after a very short period of time, and use their intuition and flexibility to relate to others on their own level.

Because ENFPs live in the world of exciting possibilities, the details of everyday life are seen as trivial drudgery. They place no importance on detailed, maintenance-type tasks, and will frequently remain oblivous to these types of concerns. When they do have to perform these tasks, they do not enjoy themselves. This is a challenging area of life for most ENFPs, and can be frustrating for ENFP's family members.

An ENFP who has "gone wrong" may be quite manipulative - and very good it. The gift of gab which they are blessed with makes it naturally easy for them to get what they want. Most ENFPs will not abuse their abilities, because that would not jive with their value systems.

ENFPs sometimes make serious errors in judgment. They have an amazing ability to intuitively perceive the truth about a person or situation, but when they apply judgment to their perception, they may jump to the wrong conclusions.

ENFPs who have not learned to follow through may have a difficult time remaining happy in marital relationships. Always seeing the possibilities of what could be, they may become bored with what actually is. The strong sense of values will keep many ENFPs dedicated to their relationships. However, ENFPs like a little excitement in their lives, and are best matched with individuals who are comfortable with change and new experiences.

Having an ENFP parent can be a fun-filled experience, but may be stressful at times for children with strong Sensing or Judging tendancies. Such children may see the ENFP parent as inconsistent and difficult to understand, as the children are pulled along in the whirlwind life of the ENFP. Sometimes the ENFP will want to be their child's best friend, and at other times they will play the parental authoritarian. But ENFPs are always consistent in their value systems, which they will impress on their children above all else, along with a basic joy of living.

ENFPs are basically happy people. They may become unhappy when they are confined to strict schedules or mundane tasks. Consequently, ENFPs work best in situations where they have a lot of flexibility, and where they can work with people and ideas. Many go into business for themselves. They have the ability to be quite productive with little supervision, as long as they are excited about what they're doing.

Because they are so alert and sensitive, constantly scanning their environments, ENFPs often suffer from muscle tension. They have a strong need to be independent, and resist being controlled or labelled. They need to maintain control over themselves, but they do not believe in controlling others. Their dislike of dependence and suppression extends to others as well as to themselves.

ENFPs are charming, ingenuous, risk-taking, sensitive, people-oriented individuals with capabilities ranging across a broad spectrum. They have many gifts which they will use to fulfill themselves and those near them, if they are able to remain centered and master the ability of following through.

I love you, Sir.

Portrait of an INFJ

Figured jewels put up her Myers Briggs profile. Hadn't thought about mine for awhile. Master and I did ours just before we got together (it shows we are absolutely incompatible as I recall...). Anyway, when she posted hers, I got to wondering about mine again and went and looked. It makes a couple of things clearer again about some of the stuff that goes on with me...

Things like that drive for orderliness, the tendency toward perfectionism, the urge to blame myself, and that business of sensing things about the way things are that I then can't explain to anyone in any coherent fashion... Oh dear...

Here it is --

Portrait of an INFJ - Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging

As an INFJ, your primary mode of living is focused internally, where you take things in primarily via intuition. Your secondary mode is external, where you deal with things according to how you feel about them, or how they fit with your personal value system.

INFJs are gentle, caring, complex and highly intuitive individuals. Artistic and creative, they live in a world of hidden meanings and possibilities. Only one percent of the population has an INFJ Personality Type, making it the most rare of all the types.

INFJs place great importance on havings things orderly and systematic in their outer world. They put a lot of energy into identifying the best system for getting things done, and constantly define and re-define the priorities in their lives. On the other hand, INFJs operate within themselves on an intuitive basis which is entirely spontaneous. They know things intuitively, without being able to pinpoint why, and without detailed knowledge of the subject at hand. They are usually right, and they usually know it. Consequently, INFJs put a tremendous amount of faith into their instincts and intuitions. This is something of a conflict between the inner and outer worlds, and may result in the INFJ not being as organized as other Judging types tend to be. Or we may see some signs of disarray in an otherwise orderly tendency, such as a consistently messy desk.

INFJs have uncanny insight into people and situations. They get "feelings" about things and intuitively understand them. As an extreme example, some INFJs report experiences of a psychic nature, such as getting strong feelings about there being a problem with a loved one, and discovering later that they were in a car accident. This is the sort of thing that other types may scorn and scoff at, and the INFJ themself does not really understand their intuition at a level which can be verbalized. Consequently, most INFJs are protective of their inner selves, sharing only what they choose to share when they choose to share it. They are deep, complex individuals, who are quite private and typically difficult to understand. INFJs hold back part of themselves, and can be secretive.

But the INFJ is as genuinely warm as they are complex. INFJs hold a special place in the heart of people who they are close to, who are able to see their special gifts and depth of caring. INFJs are concerned for people's feelings, and try to be gentle to avoid hurting anyone. They are very sensitive to conflict, and cannot tolerate it very well. Situations which are charged with conflict may drive the normally peaceful INFJ into a state of agitation or charged anger. They may tend to internalize conflict into their bodies, and experience health problems when under a lot of stress.

Because the INFJ has such strong intuitive capabilities, they trust their own instincts above all else. This may result in an INFJ stubborness and tendency to ignore other people's opinions. They believe that they're right. On the other hand, INFJ is a perfectionist who doubts that they are living up to their full potential. INFJs are rarely at complete peace with themselves - there's always something else they should be doing to improve themselves and the world around them. They believe in constant growth, and don't often take time to revel in their accomplishments. They have strong value systems, and need to live their lives in accordance with what they feel is right. In deference to the Feeling aspect of their personalities, INFJs are in some ways gentle and easy going. Conversely, they have very high expectations of themselves, and frequently of their families. They don't believe in compromising their ideals.

INFJ is a natural nurturer; patient, devoted and protective. They make loving parents and usually have strong bonds with their offspring. They have high expectations of their children, and push them to be the best that they can be. This can sometimes manifest itself in the INFJ being hard-nosed and stubborn. But generally, children of an INFJ get devoted and sincere parental guidance, combined with deep caring.

In the workplace, the INFJ usually shows up in areas where they can be creative and somewhat independent. They have a natural affinity for art, and many excel in the sciences, where they make use of their intuition. INFJs can also be found in service-oriented professions. They are not good at dealing with minutia or very detailed tasks. The INFJ will either avoid such things, or else go to the other extreme and become enveloped in the details to the extent that they can no longer see the big picture. An INFJ who has gone the route of becoming meticulous about details may be highly critical of other individuals who are not.

The INFJ individual is gifted in ways that other types are not. Life is not necessarily easy for the INFJ, but they are capable of great depth of feeling and personal achievement.

For those who have lived through the swirling with me and struggled to make sense of it all...

That all makes perfect sense I bet


Tuesday, October 18, 2005

We're living the abomination of abominations,,,,,,,and mostly loving it

OK, I know that we've been through some emotional times here lately, but we seem to be out the other side of that crisis and doing pretty well once some pretty outrageous work stress...but it beats not paying the mortgage.

Today I had a rare media experience. I turned on local midday AM talk radio to find a raging discussion ensuing about the issue of gay marriage. The commentator Bill Cunningham WLW 700 in Cincinnati was regaling his basically conservative Republican Catholic audience with his trump card argument. If gay marriage can be sanctioned by society, then next, men will want to be sanctioned to marry two women. It appeared to be the "atomic bomb" of arguments. Even gay marriage activists who phoned in to make their case were struck dumb in the face of this "abomination." They proclaimed they never envisioned anything like "that."

We live and feel mundane and generally happy (yes..that's right we are generally happy despite our internal wranglings you encounter here from the three of us.) We know we are stigmatized by our lifestyle and that we would be economically ruined and likely even socially persecuted if people knew about us, so we are more than discreet.... clandestine. But we don't feel abominable. In fact we generally feel pretty healthy and OK about us.

It is interesting to get a view from the other side of your community and to realize..or more likely to be reminded that it is not just here on the Blogosphere but in the r/t community that your life would be judged as an abomination.

It is so hard to imagine so many people with so little to do that they need to spend energy judging others who's lives have no effect on their own.

We've been so intense here and so melancholy lately, perhaps soon our life will lighten and we can share the happier part of our lives. We are not emotionally masochistic, regardless of what has appeared here recently. We also are not about trying to provide a marketable blog. We provide who we are in our present.


Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you've imagined.

Why Would Anyone Want Two Wives?

One baffled (probably pretty vanilla) commenter awhile back, confronted with some story about the complexities of dealing with our poly household, asked, "Why would anyone want two wives?"

I think we probably just shined it on at the time, or maybe we offered some sort of philosophical discussion...

Then there's a situation that comes up like "The Trauma of the Messy Sports Coat," and it becomes abundantly clear EXACTLY WHY two wives are not only desirable but absolutely vitally necessary...

Himself has a fairly public sort of role, and every now and then it becomes necessary to dress Him up and make Him look presentable. It is simply a reality.

Sadly, another reality is that He is not a tidy or fastidious sort of fellow. In fact, He is a mess on feet.

The last time He wore His nice, navy blue blazer, He dumped some sort of mysterious whitish gunk on it which is absolutely impervious to any sort of effort to clean it with any methods known to mortal females (and the mortal females around here have a significant arsenal of cleaning tricks because, as discussed above, He's a mess...). Now, to be fair, I've known the blazer needed to be taken to the dry cleaners for a good long while -- several weeks at least. However, it has been challenging, because the schedules have been just wild, and the dry cleaning establishments seem bent on maintaining impossibly tight hours for those of us who work for a living. Plus the offending jacket remains in hiding in the closet from hell... So, I've frequently not thought of it except in the middle of the night.

Anyway, a crisis loomed on Sunday afternoon when, out of the blue, He suddenly remembered that He had a major event Monday evening -- and the jacket needed to be cleaned.


No cleaners open on Sunday afternoon. Need to find a "same day" dry cleaner to do the jacket on Monday. However, I have to be at work before any cleaners are open in the morning, and T has to work later than the time for the meeting to start.

AHHHHHH!!! The glories of having two wives. T, who starts work at 9 AM, hunted around to find the much sought after "same day" dry cleaner, took the messy jacket there, dropped it off, explained that I'd be picking it up, showed them the impossible white, icky stuff, and pre-paid for the whole deal. She then e-mailed me with the location of the cleaner and gave me the information needed to retrieve the precious jacket. I, in turn, bailed out of school early, tore off to the dry cleaner, explained who I was to the mystified dry cleaning lady, and retrieved the now fabulous, freshly cleaned, jacket, and took it home to the once again happy Dominant guy.

So, let's review: Why would anyone want two wives?


October 18

My brother, Gregg, would have been 45 today.
He would have hated that.
Tall, and handsome. Lithe and beautiful. Gregg was my fabulous, flaming, taffeta-queen, queer brother. He was also my alter ego.
He succumbed to HIV AIDS in November just after his 31st birthday, and I seem to miss him more, not less, as I get older.
There were four of us. Me, and the three younger brothers. The two other boys seemed to align as a pair, and then there were Gregg and I. Somehow, we understood each other. Perhaps it was that "odd" otherness that we shared...
Anyway... I remember giving him a card in the last weeks of his life... Pooh to Piglet -- "I'll never ever forget you, Piglet..."

Happy Birthday, Piglet -- wherever you are.


Sunday, October 16, 2005

Power Exchange and Polyamory -- Lessons

There are somethings that can be theorized about. Serious people can study and talk to those who have some level of knowledge and experience in an area of particular interest, and gather all the information and data that is available and formulate ideas and conjectures about how things "are." That is a worthwhile exercise and practice when you are setting off into relatively unknown territory. It makes sense to learn all you can from people who have been there before you, or who have, at the very least, done some thinking about it.

Until you've actually been there yourself, however, it is all still just speculation -- or even just guesswork. Whistling in the wind.

Somethings are even more complicated than that. I happen to be fascinated by an arcane corner of the mathematical universe that deals with fractal geometry -- self-replicating geometric forms that become infinitely smaller or larger according to specific formulas. In nature, fractals can be found in things like fern fronds and cloud formations; in science, we find them in things like antennae and circulatory systems. Fractals however, are infinitely more complex as they move from layer to layer... Just because you can "get" the pattern in the first iteration, doesn't mean you can hold onto it, conceptually in the next and the next and the next.

Our family "does" polyamory and we also consciously and consensually "do" relational power exchange. We have some knowledge and some experience. We have a functioning, stable household that hums along quite nicely and, usually, calmly balanced between the three of us. Our power exchange dynamic includes a Master, a submissive and a slave. We all know what those dynamics are and we all understand how to relate to and with each other inside that constellation.

That's what we, and mostly I, have written about here for months now.

Then there was a sudden shift; a shift brought about by a new set of relationships added to the mix -- a new layer of complexity. That shift caused, and is causing turbulence. If you've been reading, you've gotten to see some of it, and perhaps have had an inkling of some of the ruckus that has beset our world. For many of our readers, the discomfort has been palpable. For us the learning has been, and continues to be, significant. Not all of it is what I would have expected it to be.

First, it is my belief that there is a great divide between the "poly" world, and the BDSM world. The two co-mingle only peripherally. So those of us who do both are left with very few working models. Secondly, those who do both together the way our household does it are rarer than hens' teeth... We are continually confronted with the necessity of explaining the "heterosexuality" of our household, continually confronted with the dichotomies between T's role and mine in our BDSM relationships with Master, and until now somewhat of an enigma because ours has been a relatively closed triad. So, even inside the "outside" community to which we nominally belong, we were viewed as "odd." Making our own way.

Given that, there were a few "nuggets" that had been sort of the "gold-standard" of conventional wisdom for how poly relationships worked, whatever the other dynamics. We all knew the cliches:

-- Go no faster than the slowest one, and then slower than that.
-- Communication, communication, communication...
-- Everyone's feelings should get heard and honored.

But hey! Love is a funny thing. Love doesn't read the books.

Master falls in love and the books go out the window. Life kicks into high gear and things ratchet up. Hold on to your hats, we are going for a ride. Experience now, process it all as you can. Immediately would be good, but later will work if that's what has to be.

That is the nature of a total power exchange dynamic. He would very much have liked all of us (and me in particular) to have been as thrilled as He was. Would have liked everyone (and me in particular) to move and understand and "get it" at His speed. Would have liked everyone (and me in particular) to be comfortable and secure and calm. Felt badly that that was not the case. Even felt guilty that there was so much pain resulting from His needs, wants, and desires. Saw it, heard it, felt it. Ultimately, however, He is the Master. Those discomforts must give. Catch up. Understand whatever it is that is causing your pain and your fear and your insecurity and handle it.

Finally, He ran out of patience for the fussing, fuming, grousing... Called a halt to plans made. Capitulated to the breakdown, but made it clear that my behavior was unacceptable and outside the boundaries of the agreements a slave makes with a Master. He gave me the space and time that I'd been literally screaming for. It was a very difficult and dark space for the two of us. A break not in our caring for one another, but in our bond to one another as Master and slave. He simply let me go -- unwilling to hold me there in the state I'd gotten into.

I dropped into a silence and stillness within which I simply moved through my life. Functioning outwardly, but shredded at the core. I breathed through the next days. Listening. Trying to sort.

What had so frightened me?

There were the questions that might have been expected, the ones that He kept throwing up at me; questions of jealousy. Jealousy is a real thing and I am not an angel. Some of that, I believe played into this; although I don't think there is as much as He or anyone else believes. Still those issues are things like this --

He might love her better than me.
He might think she's more attractive than me.
He might think she's smarter than me.
He might want to play with her more than me.
He'll find out she's a way better play partner than me.
He'll think she's a better person than me.
She'll be better sexually than me.
He'll spend more time with her and less time with me.
He'll want to leave me and go to her.

That list goes on and on. Once you get it started, it has a life of its own. AND, I can handle almost all of those because I know the physical and emotional realities of my life. So I can talk to the silly, irrational person that does that kind of talk and calm that stuff down pretty easily. Even though Master believes that I don't share well in that realm, I really have found through all of this, that most of that is not an issue. I do have major insecurities about my abilities as a masochist, but also know, logically that when it comes down to it, in reality, that I can and do go there... So...

The much more difficult set of issues for me, were ones that I never anticipated. They were the questions that arose out of the power exchange dynamic itself. I think I had always assumed that, should there be additions to our family, they would be other women who would be submissive to Master, and therefore, peers with me. It very quickly became evident that this new relationship would have some other sort of footing. There would be some sort of power play involved, but clearly, this lady was not going to be part of the clan as a submissive, much less a slave. Furthemore, because, from a pure personality perspective, she's an almost identical twin to Master, Himself, it seemed likely that I was going to get not a sister submissive, but an adjunct dominant. WHOA!!!!

That's a twist I hadn't bargained for. No one set that up. No one intends that to be a negative. No one can do anything about that. There's no way to control or mitigate that circumstance. It simply is. The nature of the interaction is such that it will occur. Not actively probably. Not intentionally. As if by osmosis, almost certainly.

It doesn't change anything. It changes everything. It scares me witless. I don't know, now, who I am dealing with entirely. Still, I am committed and that has not changed. There are new possibilities and new challenges, surely. Now I understand, consciously, what some of those may be. Deep breath.

The nature of a total power exchange is that control is given to the One who holds it. In making that choice, there is the potential for circumstances to change, perhaps radically, in some unforeseen future. That has occured. I did not give consent to His ownership with the caveat that nothing would ever change. Nor did I ever promise Him that I'd be an easy one to control or manage.

In these weeks, change has come and I've been a handful. We've both learned.

I'm back in His collar and under His protection. The future will come and will be full and rich and interesting.


Saturday, October 15, 2005

Where my heart has been...

Sometimes, I get overwhelmed. Too much noise. Too much input. Too many voices.

I am, by nature, a quiet sort; inclined to ponder and consider for long, silent hours.

Life has been rushing at me at a feverish pace. For many long months now. Intense and demanding. Challenges around every turn.

There's been no time to simply find the place or time to settle in and be. Quiet.

And then there were new relationship dynamics added to the mix. New friends. New feelings. New dynamics. And I had no reserves left to deal with it all...

And so many voices from outside found their way into my head. So many ideas and so many judgements and so many arguments and clamorings...

I'd have gone here. If I could have gotten here.

Here is Valley View Hot Springs. San Luis Valley. Colorado. Just a week or so ago. Glorious, isn't it? Where my heart has been... Calming itself. Finding its center.

I'm better again.


Friday, October 14, 2005


I am working at finding my way out of the dark. Please be calm and patient. It is really all right.

I've been terribly afraid. Fear is not all bad. It can sometimes instruct, and sometimes it can save us.

Those of you who want to reach out and comfort -- I appreciate it, and I know you mean to do a good thing...

Right now, I need the quiet. I need to hear my voice and my heart and my own trembling. I need to find my path and put my feet back on the way.



Monday, October 10, 2005


I've failed in just about every way one can imagine.
Disappointed Him and hurt people in the process.
I have been allowed to remain in His service.
It is a gift greater than I deserve at this point.
I can only say I am sorry.
The world seems very gray.
I can't think of anything else to say.


Saturday, October 08, 2005

Swan in the Far Corner

I belong to the One who is best for me.
He is good and strong and caring and wise.

Lots of things have happened here really fast.
Change is change.
It takes adjustment.
Some have observed some of that and chosen to stick all sorts of labels and weights on that.
Rejected for me and my life.

I still belong to Him.
He will make the path that we will follow, and I will go the way He chooses to take us.
I don't expect it to be easy every single day.
Some things present challenges and opportunities for learning and growth.
He will support and guide me as that occurs.

What gets shared here about my life; about our lives, will continue to be as honest as I can make it.
I will make no apologies for any of it.
Nor will I attempt to comfort those who are made uncomfortable by what they may read here.
If what you read resonates in you somewhere, then, by all means, take what you find of value.
If that does not happen for you, journey on in good health.
I'll not "slave" for anyone but Him.
If you want a "match" or a "mirror" for your style or your particular path, or if you are looking for an easy and chatty sort of "girlfriend," you will likely want to seek another place to read.


Thursday, October 06, 2005

When there is Evil Afoot

Years ago. The family and I spent time at a "quaint Quaker boarding school." Kids there were supposedly gifted, but the fact is they were damaged goods, and it was cheaper for their parents to dump them there and pay the tuition than to send them to treatment facilities. In a matter of less than 3 months, my then 12 year old daughter was having sex in the living rooms and parking lots with a nearly 20 year old student, and my then spouse was inappropriately propositioning a nearly 20 year old student anywhere he could get her alone...

All hell broke loose.

I made arrangements. Packed what I could salvage of my life, and hauled my family home to Colorado.

I went to my Quaker meeting there in Denver, seeking guidance and support as I tried to work through the many issues. There's a process in Friends meetings, called "Clearness" in which trusted Friends sit with members in distress and try to work out such heavy issues. The process is supposed to be in strictest confidence. This one broke out all over the whole place, and a witch hunt ensued. Gossip ran rampant and we were eventually run off... I looked true evil in the face right in the heart of what I believed to be my truest faith community and home.

I learned through those months that there is such a thing as evil. That it works in the person of human creatures. That it cannot be "fought" by good people using good tactics. That it will eat good people. That if you are good and intend to remain good, you should turn tail and run when you encounter true evil. Fight it from a safe distance.


Back to Basics

His Household.
His Vision.
His Wants, Needs, Desires.

Too many other voices, thoughts, judgements, demands, manipulations have intruded on my energies, and time and thinking of late. I've become distracted and unsettled and fragmented in my focus.

I need to get back to basics and to first principles. He will guide me as he sees fit. I will do as He commands. It is enough. What I would choose is not a matter for discussion except between He and I. Should He feel some element of how I feel about that needs to be further explored here, I will do so as He directs.

My loyalty, my obedience, my trust all belong to Him. All other claims on my heart are secondary to that one, and to the degree that He gives me to control them, of my choosing.


Tuesday, October 04, 2005

What's it Worth When it's a Command?

I've been caught in an interesting sort of mental twist in terms of how things can be valued (or devalued) when I do them BECAUSE I am commanded to do them.

It seems a long time ago now that I read somewhere, in my early thirst for understanding of this life choice, that "when one sees a man and His slave, one truly sees only one man." I'm not sure where I found that, or I'd give proper credit. I remember thinking at the time that it was remarkable and profound to consider a unity of thinking and action between two people that might achieve such a level.

There are many things that I do, in my day to day living, that I would not necessarily choose to do, or initiate if it were left up to my own option. It is not. I am not my own person. I am His. When He commands, I do. I do not always like the things He commands. I do them anyway. Further, I do not announce which things that I do are of my volition and which are from Him. I simply do, to the best of my ability, and with as much integrity and faithfulfulness as I can.

This blog is like that. It is not of my choosing. It is from Him. Mostly. Especially when what comes up here is heavy, dark and deep. If it were my choice, such would never see the light of day. He commands me to share, to write, to expose and seek the companionship of others. That I do not preface every such piece with a disclaimer that says, "I am being told to write this..." does not make the communication less real or less honest or less me... witness the angst generated by my wallowing here a few weeks back.

Slavery is hard to explain when it is like this... What you see is only partly what you get. I cannot tell you exactly where the lines are; where what you are seeing is "me" and where what you are seeing is Him. I am shaped and formed and driven by what He would have me be. In ways large and small. Not brain-washed or beaten or incompetent as some would pose it, but owned and commanded. That may, in fact, devalue the truth of relating with and touching my life. You cannot have "me" without in some way having my slavery. You will be impacted by the FACT that I may be commanded to behave in a particular fashion, and that I may not specify the parameters of that behavior. If that feels less than genuine, less than real, less than valid...

I do not know how to reconcile that. I thought about that as I talked with the pharmacist last night on the phone (like a good girl). He didn't know I was calling him because I had to...

Sigh... How often does it happen? Everyday? I can't even think about it...


Monday, October 03, 2005

Football scores

The Cincinnati Bengals are 4-0. They beat the Houston Texans yesterday. The score was 16-10, if you are keeping track of such things.


Sunday, October 02, 2005

My "kids"

Sometimes, when you teach, you have to laugh. They are just so darned amazingly funny.

I teach junior high kids -- 6th, 7th, and 8th graders. There are people who avoid that age group, find them difficult and horrible to deal with. I think they are fascinating as their minds wake up and begin to question and wonder how it is they know what it is that they know... But, the other side of the coin is that, developmentally, around the 7th grade, the functioning of the human mind is not a smooth thing. Thinking is not at all dependable. There are moments when the 7th grade brain is something like a bowl of oatmeal... It can be endearing if you don't take it too seriously. Like this...

I recently handed out a new computer project. I try to tie these things to the rest of the curriculum, and then use them to teach computer skills. So this project was a practice in Internet research, publisher document creation, word processing, and presentation software use, wrapped around a social studies "curriculum" goal. The 7th graders were given the assignment of choosing a first lady to research and prepare a variety of "products" for both a computer grade and a social studies grade. There were no limitations placed on their choice of first lady, although I did encourage them to resist the urge to choose the "obvious" names we all are familiar with and look at some more "interesting" possibilities.

Immediately, without even a few minutes to contemplate the possible issues with such an assignment, hands shot into the air with questions. Here are the first three questions out of the mouths of my darlings. I swear I've done no editing...

Question -- "Can we do Mrs. Kerry?"
Answer -- "No. She is not married to a president, and is not, therefore, a first lady."

Question -- "Can we do Laura Bush?"
Answer -- "Yes. She is married to a president, and is, therefore, a first lady."

Question -- "Can we do Bill Clinton?"
Answer -- "Did you just ask me that question?"

Room dissolves into hysterical laughter...

Did I mention I love junior high kids because their minds are just waking up and they are starting to wonder how it is they know what they know?


Saturday, October 01, 2005

Mermaids and taxes and train wrecks and personal battles...

On a bitterly cold January morning, in Casper, Wyoming, I gave birth to a lovely, strawberry-haired, violet-eyed baby girl after only about an hour and a half of labor. We barely made it to the hospital across the snow bound streets of that bitter winter morning, and my little daughter came screaming furiously into the world, ready to fight.

By five o'clock that afternoon, she was rolling over in my hospital bed -- front to back, back to front -- like a barrel down the length of the bed. It wasn't the first sign that this child was different, there'd been indications while she was still in utero that something was unique about my little one... but I knew that night that I was in for a wild ride.

She never slept for more than 20 minutes at a time until she was 5 years old. Refused to be held close. Couldn't tolerate most clothing. Walked at 8 months. Climbed everything. Talked in full sentences before her first birthday. Was absolutely fearless. At about the age of 5 she became fascinated with snakes -- an obsession that continues to this day.

Then, around the time she was 6 or 7, she began to have anxiety attacks. She would begin to gasp and wheeze and experience a sensation that she couldn't breathe. The first time it happened, we were at home and I didn't know what to do. I checked and found her not feverish or delirious. I ran through a quick series of questions with her and ascertained that she was not choking, hadn't swallowed anything, was not injured. Still she was clearly in distress. I scooped her into my arms, carried her to the bathtub, ran the water at just slightly warmer than room temperature and gently laid her in the tub. Desperately, I told my little girl that I thought, perhaps she might be a mermaid who'd gotten lost from the ocean and just needed to have some time in the water. Splashing gently, I let the water run over her legs and arms and shoulders and belly, crooning to her about the ocean and mermaids and how much I loved her and how it would be alright and how glad I was that she had chosen to be with us. Slowly, her breathing eased and she relaxed as she watched my face and listened to the story I wove for her out of my desperate need for her to be alright...

It was a game she and I played many times after that night... whenever the mermaid in her got to feeling overwhelmed by the demands of living among mere mortals.

By the time she was in the 4th grade, she had read the complete, unabridged works of Shakespeare and was wanting to discuss the Sonnets over dinner. She was also beginning to have trouble in school and with her peers. She would con her classmates and perfect strangers on the street or at the store out of their spare change. By 5th grade, she was beginning to get into fights on the playground and I was getting calls at work about the inappropriate pranks she was pulling at school. In 6th grade it escalated to vandalism.

Then she turned 13 and all hell broke loose. She started running away from home. She started drinking and taking illegal drugs of every kind. Started having sex with everything with a penis. Started hustling pool (she's a very good pool shark). My mermaid turned into the street tough "Rambo." She never finished 7th grade.

Life for me turned into a constant search for my child. I'd go to work at 6:15 each morning. Finish work, come home, eat dinner, sleep until about 9 or 10 PM, get up and go prowl the bars and pool halls and head shops and brothels, passing her picture, asking if anyone had seen her. At 2 or 3 in the morning, we'd drag home and try to sleep a couple more hours before dragging ourselves out to go back to work. Then do it all again.

If we found her, or if the police would call and have her in custody, we'd go pick her up, drag her home and start the whole thing again. Usually, we'd be lucky if we could hold onto her for 4 or 5 days. Eventually, she attacked me physically and I called 911. They took her off in handcuffs. It was a dark day. The juvenile justice system is an interesting world that I would not wish anyone to have to try to navigate. I spent hours advocating with judges, social workers, probation officers, psychologists and district attorneys to attempt to find appropriate placements and services for my daughter. NOTE: I was not arguing that she was innocent. I was arguing that she needed to be held in an appropriate setting for her own safety and for the safety and well being of others (including the rest of our family). The reality was that, in the state of Colorado at that time, there was very little available in the way of appropriate placements for kids like my daughter.

You see, the mermaid wasn't just a BAD kid. She has Asperger's (part of the Autistic spectrum) and she has Bipolar illness. She's incredibly bright, but she doesn't get relationship cues and she has mental illness. She's beautiful and wonderful and charming when she's in a good place. But when she's not in a good place, she's not good -- and there was no good place for her when she most needed it, when we most needed it.

Years ago, the state of Colorado was overtaken by a movement that was billed as "The Tax Payer's Bill of Rights" (TABOR.) TABOR limits the state (and every governmental entity within the state) to a rate of tax growth equal to the rate of inflation, by constitutional amendment. Any windfall income that a governmental body might come by has to be returned to the taxpayers. It was easy to sell: "Forces governments to live within their means. Forces them to balance the budget. No more tax and spend." When times are good and there is growth, it goes along pretty well. But anykind of downturn or any kind of unexpected negative or catastrophic event turns TABOR into a calamity. Today, the State of Colorado has an education system, a health care system, a mental health system, and an infrastructure that is in tatters. There is simply no money and no way to raise any money. Even Colorado's very conservative governor, who was a staunch advocate for TABOR when it was passed, is campaigning to lift its draconian limitations so that the state can implement some much needed work on so many projects. TABOR was a disaster... for me and for my kid... For so many other kids and families...

AND now, it has followed me. Here. In Ohio. The rumblings are starting. Amid those who would convince the unwitting that limiting government's ability to use tax adjustments as a way to answer the community's need for services seemingly makes sense (just as it did to so many taxpayers in Colorado years ago) -- TABOR is being talked about. And there are folks who are nodding their heads and saying, "well, yes, we want services for our kids, but we do need to be responsible about budgets..." And I want to grab them by the throat and scream, "are you crazy? We need to take this thing while it is still just an idea, and drive a stake through it's heart!!!"

If I can keep it from happening here, I will have finally managed to do something for the rest of the mermaids... Because, oh... I remember all those dark and scary and desperate and hopeless days and nights.