Happy Kinky Birthday!

As of last week, it has come and gone:  My kinky birthday.  I’ve officially considered myself part of the “lifestyle” for one year.  It’s been a year since I actually discovered BDSM was a “thing” real people *really* did.  A year since discovering there were people I could talk to and ask questions of and learn from.  And play with!

My first “scene” was over Thanksgiving weekend last year.  Man, was I dumb.  It was with an “internet Dom” I’d met on some website…not Fetlife.  Because honestly I just didn’t know any better.  I was naïve, uneducated, and overly eager.  I didn’t know what safe words were, how to negotiate limits, how to set up safety calls, or any of that other stuff you’re supposed to know before leaping into the pool.  I just jumped! Needless to say, the first scene I had went horribly wrong.  He was just as stupid as I was, and was decent enough to realize that my screaming and crying were *not* of the hot variety, and stopped before things went even more poorly.  I didn’t know how to communicate what I needed other than panic.  I had no language.  But, as I said, he was a decent guy, and I was *VERY* lucky.

My “Dom” was apparently moved by the exchange and left the “lifestyle” (or whatever he was doing) to find Jesus.  He disappeared and I didn’t hear from him until about 6 months later.  I politely and oh so sweetly suggested he fuck off.  Actually, I just said “Thanks, but no thanks,” and went about my merry way.

While he found Jesus…temporarily (slimy fucker, that Jesus, always getting lost, people having to “find him” over and over again.  He needs one of those toddler leashes, methinks…)

Anywho…I was moved as well.  While that first play date was a train-wreck by all accounts, the exchange that led up to it had wet my appétit and I wanted more.  That scene was not enough to stifle my curiosity, or my outright stubbornness.  Smart chick that I am, I did my research this time.  A college friend, who was infinitely kinky, suggested Fetlife.  At first I was overwhelmed, but quickly learned my way around.  I read a lot of message boards, did my homework on limits, safe words, safety measures as a bottom, etc.  Once I’d done a bit of research…enough to not feel like a total idiot…I started messaging a few interesting people.  And a few interested people messaged me. 

Initially I was going to talk about each of the truly special relationships I’ve had since entering the lifestyle, but I realized those people likely know how they influenced me.  Instead, I’m going to share a list of things I’ve learned in my first year.  The lessons that stand out to me and might mean something to someone reading this.  Some are poignant and dreadfully important life lessons.  Some are funny, special moments that make me smile months later. Some are borrowed from people who’ve come *before me*, and others are borrowed from people who’ve cum *on me*.  In a few instances, I’ll give credit if I can recall a specific moment and person that drove that point home.

• Trust your gut.  If it’s saying, “You are in so much trouble…” you probably are.  Act accordingly.
• Get references.  Reputation isn’t *everything*but it can be informative.
• It’s really only kinky the first time.
• Most collars are made of Velcro, apparently.  Nothing wrong with taking your time.  Forging takes time.  I’ve yet to wear a *real* collar, but know when I finally do it will be created from love, negotiation, a firm foundation, trust, compassion, dedication, and commitment.  And I’m mostly quite content to take our time getting there.
• I’m pretty sure “rainbow” players are a myth…but if they are real, I have some questions… (@EruditeHayseed)
• There are apparently a fuck-ton of True Doms running around.  And I’ve never met ANY of them…my fetmail told me so. 
• My personal discomfort is a FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH REASON to say NO.  And I don’t owe anyone any explanations. (Thank you @SarcasmaGRuntle…)
• Subbies are NOT pokemon…but for some reason many Toppy types are trying to “collect them all.”  I am *not* a collector’s item, or shiny toy to sit on your shelf.  I’m a person and I’ll be treated as such, thankyouverymuch. 
• You can find intense and powerful love in the strangest places.  Like MasterDoug’s kitchen.  Or a Golden Coral.  Or on stage.  Or a Starbucks. Thank you for all the love, lessons, experiences, growth, change, perspective, obstacles, teaching moments, pain, pleasure, and life @Monk, @EruditeHayseed, @DarkMedic, and @RedThunder.
• Women are complex and beautiful and *can be trusted*.  It took three very special women to show me this.  Thank you @UtopianDreamer, @Certari, and @Symetrie. I love you all.
• The length of a relationship and the powerfulness of a relationship aren’t always correlational.
• Trust the people who have seen a few things.  If they are concerned, you should be too. (Thank you, @Barak)
• Leather tastes like porn.  Mmmmm. Yummy delicious porn.
• If your hand isn’t around my throat, is that still considered fucking?
• Submission isn’t a contest.  But if it is, @Tesla wins.
• Polyamory isn’t a contest.  But it it is, @BondageNexus wins.
• BDSM is for grown-ups.  If you can’t act like one, get out of the pool. (Thank you, @SherynB)
• Communication skills courses should be a prerequisite for your first negotiation.
• Bruises are gorgeous.  Better than diamonds (Thank you @theBiz for my first real and beautiful bruises.  That scene paved the way for a delicious relationship with pain, and a deep and powerful friendship.  I love you dearly.) 
• Vanillas can be really hard to convert.  Know when to walk away.
• Someone’s behavior towards you has nothing to do with you. (Thank you @Bendyogagirl).
• Never put rope around your neck, unless it’s hot. 
• The sprinkler valve is not a hard point. (Thank you @AIS)
• Be VERY specific when asking to borrow @BratSheba’s shoes.  VERY specific… Otherwise, you’ll end up with a heel print in your ass-cheek.
• You can only move at the pace you can move at.  Be patient with yourself.
• If someone intentionally violates your boundaries once, they will likely do it again.
• D/s or M/s or Poly or whatever can look like WHATEVER I and my partners want it to look like.  There are no universal “rules.”  Give yourself permission to be flexible.
• Poly Math is really hard! But sometimes you meet a tutor who helps you figure a few things out…or compassionately listens while you bitch about unbalanced equations.  Thank you @MollyV)
• Google calendars can save your life.
• Grieving takes as long as it takes.  Be kind to yourself (@Monk…only one of SO many lessons you’ve taught me.  And I am eager for each new lesson we will tackle together)
• Support FET!  Gagging people is fucking awesome (@ all you people that post WAAAAAY too much about stuff I find boring as shit.)
• Everyone else here is *just* as fucked up as you are.  And there is great beauty and community in that universal fucked-upedness (Learned @ GRUE).
• Driving 15 hours one way for a GRUE?  Totally worth it. (Thank you @Graydancer, @Symetrie, @RoughInamorato, @IBurnREd, @SmartAlix)
• Driving 15 hours one way to have that special someone beat the living fuck out of you because no one else can do it quite the same and using GRUE as a convenient excuse for the trip?  Also totally worth it. (@theBiz….what can I say?  Again, thank you.)
• It’s kind of okay when people hate what I write.  At least they are thinking.  (@thank you to all the writers I know and all the people who have encouraged me to keep writing).
• Who you were in a previous lifetime only dictates who you are now *if you let it.*
• Who you were in a previous life has little meaning to me.  Who the person is standing in front of me means everything.
• Some people will read this list and think parts are about them.  They aren’t.
• One of my absolute favorite people in the community is someone who pisses me off on a semi-regular basis…because he is honest and direct with me when I need it most (which tends to be when I want to hear it least…).  And I love him dearly and thank him profusely for it.  (Thank you @FunkayBlackHat)
• I worry too much about what I can “take” in a scene, pain-wise.  I’ve erroneously based my worth as a bottom on my ability to handle certain levels of pain.  I forgot about the experience, about my experience.  There are two people working very hard to teach me differently.  I love you both deeply. (Thank you @Monk and @theBiz). 
• Despite all wishing otherwise, I am human.  I am a perfectly beautiful disaster of a human. 
• I deserve all the pleasure I can stand.  And then another orgasm just for good measure.
• Shame is a waste of energy.
• Some people will read this list and think parts are about them.  They are.
• I believe most people tend to do the best they know how with the tools they have in front of them.  I believe this fact is no excuse for people who refuse to venture to the hardware store and get new tools when their old ones are obviously not working.
• People are messy.  If you interact with people, you’re likely to get some of that mess on you. (@FunkayBlackHat) 
• People treat you the way you allow them to treat you. (Thank you @Barak)
• Needles…..mmmmm.  Needles.  Yes.  That is all.
• Wrestling mats are awesome.  But so are concrete floors. 
• A fistful of my hair is the quickest way to get my attention and put me in “my subbie place.”  I like “my subbie place.” 
• *For me*, the difference between submission and slavery is akin to the difference between attending mass and joining the monastery.    

So yeah…there it is. A large compilation of what I’ve learned in my first year in the scene.  I’ve left out a ton, and probably not thanked everyone I need to.  But it’s a start. 

What did *you* learn your first year that you want to share?

For Grandpa, or Miss Lucy Crashes the Funeral

*The preacher at my grandfather’s funeral was one of those “rent-a-day” preachers.  My family doesn’t have church ties on that side, so we didn’t have one of our own to give the service.  He was a nice guy.  Spent a long time talking to my aunt the day before, trying to get an idea of who my grandfather was.  He asked people to come forward to tell stories about my grandpa, because we keep loved ones alive through our stories.  I didn’t get up at first.  I think my mind went a little blank.  Which story should I tell?  I had no idea, so I sat quiet.  My brother told a funny story, as did a family friend, and my great-aunt.  I was about to rise…I had some thoughts to shared, but the preacher cut it off then and continued in his sermon.  He read from the bible, quoted Jesus and various apostles.  He tried to somehow connect these bible verses to my grandfather’s life, and it just wasn’t working.  Honestly, it was annoying me more than anything.  My grandfather was not an openly religious man, and the idea of a very religious service was hilarious to me.  He’d have never gone for it.  So I waited, patiently.  I nearly talked myself out of speaking.  I didn’t want to be rude, and he’d closed the floor.  But the longer I sat there, the more I became aware that if I didn’t say these things now, I wouldn’t get another chance.  My grandfather wouldn’t have another funeral, and there wouldn’t be another eulogy.  So I waited for the preacher to take a breath.  Man, could he talk.  Then, when he paused, in between thoughts, I stood up and said, “I have something to say.”  This is, best as I can, a recreation of what I said.*

I’ve been told that I’m not always great at timing.  When the pastor asked for stories a bit ago, I went blank.  And the longer I sat there, the more I realized I had things to say.  I appreciate the pastor’s words and the time he took putting together this service.  But I never knew my grandfather to be a religious man.  Actually, I never even knew he believed in God until a few years ago when I just asked him, “Hey.  Do you believe in God?”  It was during that conversation that I learned that my grandfather did have faith, and considered himself a Christian.  I think my brother Gabe was there for this conversation, too.  I learned that my grandfather once had the bible memorized, and he told me the shortest verse, “Jesus saves,” as well as the longest verse…which I don’t remember anymore. 

I’m not sure how my grandfather felt about the bible, but I know this.  Standing up here during the visitation I overheard a man talking about him.  I think they worked together.  He said “Bill was a genius.”  And he’s right.  My grandfather was brilliant.  He also remembered that my grandpa was practical, and I think he’d like his legacy to be shared in practical words, rather than the lofty ideas from the bible.  So I want to share with you what I learned from my grandfather.

I was the first grandchild, by about 9 years.  And I was lucky.  I got my grandfather at the  best time for being a grandkid.  Before he got sick.  I think he wanted a boy, because he taught me how to fish.  He taught me how to shoot, and I still love guns to this day.  He taught me how to play chess, and how not to lose.  As brilliant a businessman as he was, he never taught me to manage money, and I wish I had asked him! 

He taught me that hard work is necessary and if you have work to be done you need to put on your big girl and boy panties and do it.  Take care of what needs to be taken care of now, and later you can enjoy peace. 

He taught me that sometimes life gives you some tough battles.  He was by no means perfect and if you knew him you know he had battles.  He drank heavily and smoked for a number of years.  But grandpa tended to do what he knew how until he learned a better way.  Then he changed.  When the doctors told him, “You really should stop drinking,” he did. No questions asked.  He did the same thing with smoking after his cancer diagnosis.  He just stopped.  He had more strength and willpower than any man I knew. 

I learned that when you face tough obstacles, and you feel fear, you need to stop your bitching and keep moving forward.  And he’d have told you to stop your bitching.  He was wise and practical, and when I face big problems, I sometimes ask myself, “What would grandpa do?”  Honestly, I’d find one of those bracelets much more helpful than “what would Jesus do?” 

I learned that meals are the best way to share time and laughter with those you love.  I learned to take friends and family out to eat, and to pay for their food, because you sure as hell can’t take that money with you.  Spend a little more on people, give a little more.  Bring someone joy in ways they might not be able to bring themselves.  Because you can’t go back and change it, and you can’t take it with you.  Be generous of heart, soul, and wallet.  I used to love watching Grandpa and Uncle Don argue over who was going to pay the ticket at family dinners out.  They both understood that money is of this world and there’s no sense in being stingy. 

I learned that you take care of family, you visit often and you don’t wait for “tomorrow.”  Because it isn’t promised. 

I learned to form opinions carefully, and with much gathering of facts.  I learned that having strong opinions based in fact is a good thing.  But I also learned to keep them to myself unless asked.  I learned to speak deliberately and thoughtfully, because sometimes people actually listen. 

I am grateful to have loved this man.  Grateful to have been able to share time with him, learn from him, and give him all the love I was able.  I was grateful to have him.  And I am grateful now, that he is finally resting after a long and stubborn battle.  He decided it was time to go home.  I love him deeply, and I am grateful for him.  

Definite Drop

I should probably be working...you know, on the stuff that pays my bills and allows my frequent and ferocious kink indulgences.  But I can't seem to get focused.  This isn't a rare problem.  When it comes to writing up psych evals I'm less than wet about the subject.  And I don't feel well.  Woke up Monday morning with no voice, and this progressed into a fever by Tuesday, and all around ick by this morning.  Fever's gone, just all congested and dancing in the mud puddle of fall allergies as we speak.

One of my partners was in a mood last night.  I didn't feel well, and text is a horrible medium for expressing oneself.  My sarcasm and brief answers were misinterpreted and this sort of became the catalyst for, or contribution to, a fun slide into negative thought patterns and catastrophizing assumptions.  Today, it occurred to me...could this be drop?  Is this what his drop looks like?  We had a similar incident last week around the same time...

So I asked him.  This hadn't occurred to him.  Hmmm.

Earlier today I was emailing back and forth with a former partner and current friend and he wrote something I had to read 3 or 4 times before I realized he wasn't insulting me.  Yesterday, I had a conversation with a friend that was similar.  I found myself taking things personally that weren't at all meant to be.  So all this got me thinking.

I'm pretty self-aware, and when I am not I make damn sure to become enlightened on the subject as soon as possible.  In the above instances, I was quickly able to identify, "I'm dropping.  I should take a step back." I'm dropping currently.  I have had weekend after weekend of play and travel and all around awesomeness.  This weekend was particularly meaningful both in play and emotional growth.

This all has led me to the urge to write about what my drop looks like.  Maybe someone else's is similar?

First, I tend to have an immune system crash if my play has been particularly strenuous or drawn out.  This may be a sore throat up to a fever or respiratory infection of some kind.  We play in very public places with lots of other people with all their own germs.  It's normal to assume one will get sick eventually.  I do what I can regarding preventative measures.  I drink a bit of C-Boost juice daily, take vitamin packs, and eat healthy balanced meals (usually...though I've been addicted to milkshakes lately, and moolattes from DQ.  Holy fuck are they good!).  I try to get 6-7 hours sleep a night, and I'm physically active.  But folks, you play in enough dungeons, you're gonna get the crud at some point.  My last big immune system crash came following a 30 hour car ride to and from Minnesota.  All new regional crud my body had never experienced!

Second, I tend to get fairly insecure, emotionally.  I begin questioning my desirability as a bottom, my skills as a bottom.  I wonder if my partners played with me because they wanted to or because they felt some obligation to.  I worry about how fat I looked in rope, or if they will notice that my recent milkshake/moolatte addiction has added a couple of pounds.  I worry if jeans were too tight, or my pussy not tight enough.  I worry about whether the partner I'm only just beginning to experiment with calling Master will suddenly change his mind.  I wonder if Daddy will decide I'm too bratty a babygirl.  I worry, and I question. And I get sad and self-effacing.  And usually about 20 minutes into this thinking, I kindly and compassionately say to myself,
"You are dropping.  Your brain chemicals are playing tricks on you. Take it with a grain of salt."

Third, I get this really strange need for companionship paired directly with a desire to not be touched.  My body wants space to heal and breath, while my emotional state wants someone close by for reassurance.  THIS one can be tricky to navigate.  The first time I told Daddy, "I want you here, like in my apartment.  But can you sit over there in that chair and I'll come to you if I need touch?" was a really odd conversation.  He was very understanding, though, and sat happily reading while I worked at my desk.

The key to navigating drop, for me, is to first REMEMBER that drop happens.  I have to acknowledge it as a possible explanation for what I call "going crazypants."  I think about what my drop usually looks like, and if symptoms seem to fit, I will generally let it be.  I then begin engaging in what FM taught me months ago.  He learned a trick in therapy years ago that are three simple words to realigning thought patterns, for many.

"First thought wrong"  

What this means is pretty much what it sounds like.  When I'm in a highly charged emotional state, I remember "First thought wrong."  It's a cue to dismiss my first (and sometimes second and third) assumptions about any interaction.  When I am emotionally charged, my first thought generally is one that supports a negative thinking pattern and only serves to perpetuate the pissy mood.  When I remember to dismiss the first thought, it removes the gunk of my negative thought patterns and clears the way for more rational and evidenced based thoughts and feelings to pour through.

Then, I evaluate what I need.  Sometimes I need reassurance, so I'll ask for it.  "Tell me that you want me at your feet."  "Tell me that you really do love playing with me."  Sometimes I need physical affection, like a foot rub, or a kiss on the forehead.  Sometimes I need to be put in "my place" and I'll ask for a tiny bite of the cake I OD'd on over the weekend, meaning I want hands in my hair, or around my throat, directing me to my knees at their feet.  Sometimes I need to lick boots.  (Yup, I'm one of those girls.)  Sometimes I need my alone time.  And this one is harder to ask for than a lot of things.  I tend to get afraid that my need for alone time will be received as rejection.  But I have to ask for it anyway, because I know me well enough to know what it healthy.

They key for me, is knowing what I'm feeling.  Evaluating the source of this feeling, and then doing a needs assessment.  Once I know what I need, set about the task of either procuring it for myself, or asking for help from those that I trust.

But that's just my drop.  What does yours look like?

~Lucy

Redefining That Which Was Yet to Be Defined...

Initially the goal of this blog was to document and describe my first year in the BDSM community.  As I have struggled to decide what to write about this, I realize that I have spent the first year writing already.  My fetlife page contains all of the writing I did in that first year.  I am increasingly less interested in posting that here.  So perhaps this blog is to be a tale of the rest of my journey.  Surely you can find the old stuff if you're really interested?

Rather, this blog will continue in real-time as I explore issues important to me, talk about things I've experienced, and ask questions of my readers.  I expect it will be slow going, but who knows? Something interesting might come of this...

It's 3AM, or Miss Lucy is Lost...

This is the first writing I did upon entering the community, and is a  pretty pointed description of where I was at that time.  Originally posted in December of 2011

I feel like writing...but I have no idea what about. It's 3:30 in the morning and I've taken a break from the work that just WILL NOT END because my mind is putty and my eyes are tired.

I live a complete double life. Not the fun double life that a lot of people here live...like I'm one person at work and another at play. Everything that I think I am becoming, that I hope to become, is a giant fucking secret. Total strangers know more about me than the one person who should know me better than the world. (Well, I guess some of them aren't TOTAL strangers anymore.) I have been a member of this little community for a week, maybe. And that's being generous. Months ago a friend who knew my penchant for breaking rules and laughing in the face of societal expectations (and also knew the immense amount of pain and personal frustration I am experiencing at home) said, "Hey...go here." I browsed then, but didn't know for what I was browsing. Then I left as quickly as I came.

For some reason, last week I came back. And I still don't know what I was looking for exactly. I'd had an experience and it rocked my fucking world. He had no idea what he was doing, and I had no idea what I was doing...then he disappeared.  I was pretty messed up about it. But I'm not one to sit around whining for too long. I realized that even if he'd fucked up by leaving me without so much as a nod, it didn't mean I couldn't appreciate the gift he had given me in the time we played. He opened a door for me.

So what is it like to experience the most twisted, beautiful, delicately violent sexual awakening? I don't know what this thing is...and I'm not a hard core stickler for labels. But Whatever name she goes by~ I like her. And I think I'm here to stay. All those dirty, forbidden thoughts I shoved away and pretended were invisible are flooding me. And I realize they aren't so dirty...and definitely aren't so forbidden. And I'm learning to swim in them :-)

I wish to quietly and, for posterity's sake, anonymously thank one particular friend. We'll call him a friend, but the term is woefully inadequate on my lips. You know who you are and I thank you for taking me under your wing, this naive, vanilla soaked kink virgin. It is a great blessing and spiritual gift to meet someone who can, with one look in my eyes, know exactly who I am, ever was, and ever will be...and to know with that look that they accept every bit of it without question. Thank you. I hope I can repay the debt somehow in this lifetime. Lord knows I'll try till my last breath.

It is terrifying, but I quote, "Our fears are only what we tell them to be." So...I choose to not fear this. In this moment RIGHT NOW...I am present with myself and completely accepting of the person in this skin, and will lovingly guide her towards the person I know she will be. And most importantly, I will FORGIVE HER.

Thank you to my FL friends, both known and unknown to me. You guys just may save this budding little sub's life.

Here We Go, or Miss Lucy Starts a Blog

I have been talking about starting a blog of my inane and nonsensical writing for quite some time.  Not sure why I never got around to it.  Life gets in the way, I suppose.  I was too busy doing all those funky, kinky things that I was writing about that I never really dredged up the time to actually create the fucking thing to begin with.

Much of the writing you will see on here is edited and rehashed versions of stuff that has appeared on Fetlife.com.  That was my first outlet for the creative junk that manifested as I navigated the murky and often tumultuous seas of my first year in kink. Actually, my first 11 months in kink.  As of today, I have been a member of the "kink community" for a mere 11 months.  In many ways, I have gained a lifetime of experience in these short months.  And in many ways, I am painfully and fantastically aware that my learning is nowhere near done.

So this blog is a mix...thoughts on Polyamory, BDSM, power exchange, erotica, and random musings.  I hope you enjoy, and if you don't, I hope it at least inspires thought.

~Lucy