Another shift

So i’ve been chatting a lot with The Man i First Called Sir – which is really too long to type if i’m going to keep mentioning him.  I like the sound of it a lot, but really, it’s a lot of trouble to type over and over.  

Of course, he would say, “Are you saying I’m not worth the trouble?   {laughing} and of course he is – worth the trouble.  So – a compromise.  i’ll use the whole thing the first time, but after the first mention, i’ll call him FS, which is short for First Sir. 

Anyhow, we’ve been chatting and IM’ing and on the phone a lot lately, FS and i.  Partly that’s because he’s not involved with anyone at the moment so he has time, but i notice the more angst-y my blog gets, the more frequently i hear from him.  He doesn’t necessarily mention the blog, but it feels like he’s making sure i’m ok.   i think that’s really sweet of him and i appreciate it.

Today there was no doubt he’d read the blog.  He texted to see if i was around, then called.  Almost immediately, i heard that sound i said i could no longer hear – the sound of a belt being whipped out of its loops – and then the whoosh of it cutting the air.  i was laughing, and maybe getting a tiny rush at the same time –

   – and he built on that, using his most domly voice that always got to me – working on me til i couldn’t resist saying what he wanted – not just “yes,”

– but “Yes, Sir,” – and then i had to laugh and he did too, but he got it out of me, and he was pleased, and that felt kind of good too. 

We went on to talk about other stuff, mostly the vanilla dating site where we met.  He’s back on there, since his Lady Love is being fickle at the moment, and I’d gotten on again after ages, mostly to respond to his messages.   But i was on the site while we were chatting when suddenly i got a message from this man who –

  – well, it’s a long story, so i’ll just say that i actually met him – i’ll call him K – once before, about a year ago now, before FS.  i was kind of interested at the time, in a vanilla way at first, and when i met him i thought he just might possibly be a dom, but was totally not sure.  Remember, this was way back – back before FS, before i had the blog, when i was much less kink aware.  He didn’t seem interested in seeing me again, and that was that.

So today he messages me and – 

   – O, i have to tell you this first.  A while back on fetlife i was in a discusson about how you could let people on a vanilla dating site know you were into kink.  You know, in case they were into it too, cause that does happen.  There were some good suggestions made, and at some point i incorporated one of them into my profile.  As i’m babbling on about hobbies and stuff in my profile, i say, “I enjoy living my life on the right side of the slash” referring of course to the D/s.  

Soooooo – today, while i’m on the phone with FS, i get a message from K.  He wants to know what that means – living on the right side of the slash.  Hmmmmmm.

i’m all embarrassed and i try to avoid answering at first but he presses a little and then i think that’s silly so i just say:

 Hey, K – Um, it was an experiment – the idea was that only people who were likely to know what it meant would notice it – but unless you’re into kinky sex, it apparently failed… Sorry.
 

So then he said he was going to google it, but if you google it, you get some stupid music thing, so i ended up saying:

 “LOL – ok, I feel ridiculous now – it was something suggested in a discussion online about how to communicate that you were into some kink, and I decided to try it – didn’t think to google first. You’re the only person who commented – and then when I googled it, it came up with weird stuff. So – long story short -(ok, too late for that) Anyhow, it actually didn’t work at all…”

And then he said – well, i won’t quote him – well, ok, i will  – he said:

”  Well. Back to the original thought I had.
Are we a match. Want to talk?
K”

 

And all of a sudden, my heart was beating faster – really?  Heck, yeah i want to talk, and i told FS, “Um, you won’t believe this.  i think i gotta go.” 

So i did – and K and i exchanged some more messages and – and –

     – we’re getting something to eat after work tomorrow. 

Yeah.

And i’m totally cool about it – i already met him.  i already know he makes me nervous.  But you know, that domly energy makes me nervous, when it’s turned on, it just does. 

Whew.

Ok.  Anyhow.  It only just now occurs to me that maybe i’m reading too much into the conversation, that maybe he’s not a Dom at all.  But he really looks like one.  If he’s not, he should be.  But.  Well.  If he’s not, well, whatever.  It should still be interesting.  And yes, i have my safe call set up. 

And now i’m really convinced he’s not a Dom.  Even though… no. 

i need to stop it.  Whatever.  He is or he isn’t – i’m not desperate anyhow.  i have options in the universe…

As if that weren’t excitement enough, my blogger friend’s Sir is wanting her to talk with me about the possiblity of visiting them for a “getaway,” and even though that’s possibly the sweetest offer i’ve had in ages, i know it’s not really feasible.  But it’s so sweet, it makes me feel good just knowing they had the thought.  And i’m looking forward to talking with the friend on the phone.

So, need to be at work early – think we’ve got one more day of decent weather to look forward to – and and interesting evening.  {smiling}

 

The Feeling

i have lost the feeling of submission.  The deep down letting go that sets me free. 

i don’t remember the rush of heat between my legs when He says “Come here.”   i’ve lost the shivering that runs through my spine when He says, “Bend over.”    Can’t hear the whistle of His belt whipping through the loops as He pulls it off.

Gone is the thrill of nipples pinched tight that made me catch my breath, made me whimper.  Can’t feel His mouth on my breast, that hot, moist pleasure has faded far away.

The taste of His cock no longer lingers with me.  The hours spent on my knees in worship have slipped away.  i don’t feel the call to kneel, to explore, to caress the length of His shaft.  No desire to lick and suck, to swirl my tongue in the way best designed to elicit His moans of pleasure – that has left me too.

My pussy is not aching to be filled.  Left unattended, she has decided not to yearn – not to crave the touch of His fingers, His cock, His mouth.  She scorns my own caresses, deems them weak substitutes and tells me not to bother.  A little offended, i withdraw too.  Fine.  Let the tension go unnoticed –

– til the tension becomes the norm.  i feel my body tense when i lie down – when i could be relaxing, my shoulders are tight, leg muscles taut – i make myself relax.  But i wake with my neck stiff and sore, back aching.  Hmmmm.  Not so relaxed, i guess.

But this is not a giant pity party – please don’t leave me comments with sympathy, even if you feel it.  Usually i appreciate your kind and gentle words, but not so much today.  Where i am today –

     – is exactly where i need to be. 

Well defended, for the moment. 

Because underneath, below the wall of sexual apathy, all the wants and needs simmer, quietly waiting for the spark that ignites them.  {laughing} And when the spark lands –

 

Better…

i’m feeling much better today, thanks to –

     –  all of you and your support… 

     –  a meeting with Hospice care providers, who are wonderful beyond belief

     – a session with JM, the amazing analyst, who always makes me feel better, even when there’s nothing he can do

     – a beautiful, sunshine-y day today, temperatures in the low 40’s -woohoo!

     –  significant progress on my professional plans

     –  some pleasant conversation with The Man i First Called Sir – not re-starting anything, but it’s nice to talk to him

     –  an e-mail from Donna, who Mick refers to as their Southern Correspondant, who suggested some ways to direct my “waiting” energy

and just generally feeling what a lucky woman i am, with or without a Dom.  i always know i am, but sometimes i don’t quite feel it.  In fact, this morning as i was enjoying not freezing to death at my volunteer gig, i had a song playing in my head…  Click here to hear it.

Fun activities ahead of me today – a lecture series i like (i know, i’m a geek) and then tonight, drumming circle, which i haven’t done in forever.

And ya know, i haven’t felt very sexual in a while – but i’m starting too again.  That’s pretty cool too.

 

Alchemy of the Heart

i used the phrase “alchemy of the heart” in my post yesterday, and then googled it to make sure it implied what i thought it did.  i’ve gotten interested in the concept of alchemy. 

“Alchemy is the ancient art of transforming base metal into gold; it is an act of taking a lower substance and transforming it into a higher substance. The alchemist was also attempting to make his soul transform from an ordinary nature to one of spiritual wholeness. It was symbolically seen as the transformation of the personality. It was an inner change of an individual which led to peace, meaning and the integration of the entire personality.

Googling “alchemy of the heart” lead me to all kinds of resources, but i was particularly interested in a book by that name, written by Michael Brown.  Among many other things, a review of the book says:

“The journey is about allowing ourselves to feel life—to be present in each moment, fully awake, so that we really experience everything. There is no destination to arrive at, no spiritual goal. Instead, we are offered the chance to participate actively, responsibly, and creatively in our lives, instead of living as victims to whom life chaotically “just happens.”

A brief glance at information about the author reveals that “Michael developed an acutely painful neurological condition called Horton’s Syndrome. After four years of suffering through conventional medical approaches, he embarked on a quest to integrate his experience through personal inquiry.

As Michael’s quest for resolution unfolded, he began entering a state of being he called “present moment awareness” – a paradigm of heightened consciousness running parallel to our conventional and mundane world experience. He discovered that his repeated entry into this enlivened state of being, which he accomplished through ceremonial practice, plant medicines, and what he calls “consciously connected breathing,” resulted in a decrease of his own painful condition to the point of complete integration.”

All of which is at odds with the whining i’ve been doing lately.  You know, i think whining is just anger that we don’t want to express, so i had planned a temper tantrum for today.  Better to have an honest fit of anger than continue this “i’m not happy, i’ll never have a Dom, why don’t i have a Dom, it’s not fair,” thing i’ve been doing.   

So – foot stomp – i want my Dom, NOW.  (stomp)  i’ve BEEN a good girl!!!  (stomp)  i don’t WANT to wait!  (stomp)  It’s NOT FAIR!  (stomp, stomp)  OTHER people have Doms.  (stomp)  i want one too!!!!  NOW.

Ok, whew, this tantrum stuff is exhausting.  {laughing}  i guess i’m done. 

And maybe now that i’ve expressed the whining and the tantrum, i can move on.

Some things are shaking loose in my vanilla life that had been – i didn’t realize how much they were weighing on me.  i’ve been behind on some things at work for months now, and between vacation and Christmas and being sick, i didn’t think i would ever, ever, ever get caught up.  But i got a big chunk of it done yesterday.

i’ve also had some professional plans that have been moving at the speed of glaciers melting.  It looks like that’s about to take a huge step forward, so that’s a relief.

i still have to plan my Mama’s funeral, and i haven’t even started on that, but, yeah, maybe i’ll feel better if i start moving on that too.    Pre-planning – she’s still with us, but fading and Hospice is involved and you know, better to do it now…

AND – on the plus side – i have an appointment with JM, the amazing analyst today!  That’s pretty exciting.

But mostly i want to remember that all of what i feel is valid.  It’s not necessarily about moving to radical acceptance, even though that’s where i prefer to be.  The whining and tantrums are valid too, and part of who i am.  Maybe somehow they’re all part of that alchemy i’m working on.

The Fantasy Man

i can’t picture Him – i don’t know what He looks like.  Don’t know what He sounds like.  Don’t know where He lives, or what He does for a living.

He is more elusive than frigging Santa Claus.

He is someone i can respect.  Look up to in some ways.  Maybe even admire.  Someone who knows who He is, and isn’t afraid to be Himself.

He is strong, and gentle, and wise.  Funny and sweet.  Rough and demanding.

His hands stroke my face, twist my hair, spank my ass…  His hands smack my pussy, caresses my cheek, pull me to Him.  He holds me tight, bodies pressed together. 

His fingers rub my clit, grasp my nipples, slide inside my pussy, pressing up, pressing til He takes me up and up and – over the top

                    – tumbling down – gasping and moaning His name…

More elusive than frigging Santa Claus, He is.

He listens to me, and understands me.   He wants me to grow, while He grows Himself too, and between us we create a relationship that transcends who either of us are alone.  My submission and His dominance combine in an alchemy of the heart.

He knows that the symbolic has power beyond the concrete, and that magic trumps mundane.  Grounded firmly in reality, His spirit soars in other realms. 

Together, we fly.

 **************************************************** 

i’ve lost all sense of Him, can’t even imagine Him today.  Can’t feel Him out there.  More elusive than frigging Santa Claus in mid-July.   

And i resist – i struggle with  being open – want to turn away. 

 

i don't want to be open

 

Wednesday

So, i was almost through with my post this morning – tried to add something – ended up with the something added and losing everything i’d written.  Even earlier drafts couldn’t restore it.  Damn.

I think i said:

“It started snowing a couple of hours ago here in beautiful Where-i-Live. With an inch on the ground and 3-6 predicted, of course schools are closed.  My office will be on a 2 hour delay, but i think i’ll go in at the regular time, since i have a zillion things i need to do.”

Of course, i’m running super late now…  

Then i said something like:

This is not going to be an exciting post.  If you want excitement, go visit ‘Nilla.  She did a pantiless-work-day-fantasy that’s much better than the reality of mine was.

Of course, hers is fantasy.  She gets to give it that twist at the end where (warning: about to reveal the plot) the guy she’s talking to at the end IRL turns out to be the Dom she’s been talking to on-line.  Nice, right? 

And i see that Sin just responded to a comment i left earlier this morning.  She points out why a pantiless-at-jail fantasy would be more fun for her and ‘Nilla than for me – point taken, Sin – laughing – yes.   Those jail guys are real to me, so the rape fantasy is a little too close to home – too easily imagined.

So, i’m all overwhelmed at work.  i’m leaving last night, and say to Karen, my friend i mentioned before who was promoting the benefits of Spanks – not the kinky kind – i say to Karen, “Good grief, i think i leave more things on my plate at the end of the day than i actually get accomplished.”

She laughs.  “You know what?  That just means that you still have the memory capacity to remember what you were supposed to do.  Don’t worry, you’ll lose that after a while, and it all gets easier.”

Laughing – thanks, Karen.  Um, i guess…

So, i was looking for a quote for my fb page for the day, and chose this one:

“At the end of the day, all you can hope for is to go on. The older I get, the more I realize that just keeping on keeping on is what life’s all about.”
~~ Janis Ian

Then i thought Yikes, really?  Is that how i feel today?

Yeah.  It is.

It really is.

 So – i’ve exercised – need to keep moving here, right? 

The extra i was trying to attach when i lost my post earlier today was to a free teleconference that my friend Ruth Neustifter is doing tomorrow at noon on Celebrating Our Genders and Our Sexuality.  The description of it sounds like it will be both relaxing and energizing. 

The phone number to connect to it is:    1-218-862-7200 x 900944 .  It’s free.   If you’re on facebook, you can find the description and more information about the dazzling Dr. Ruthie at Ruth Neustifter.  She also has a website at www.exploringintimacy.com, but i couldn’t find the teleconference info on there.  Anyhow, in my book, she’s the Positive Sexuality guru.

 So – we’re expecting 1-3 inches of snow today, they’re saying now – which means i need to get on out there.  Not enough for me to justify staying home.  {Don’t laugh, Sin, lots of other people will, including 90% of our clients…  Remember, sometimes they try to cancel before the snow even starts.  And the psychiatrists will all call in.  Quit laughing!}

Yesterday

Yesterday, i had agreed to a “no-panty day” at work. 

Yes.  Really.  And then, of course i was to tell him (BR) what it was like.  

But first yesterday, i e-mailed him my new plan, and we haven’t had a chance to talk about that, because i’m working excessively and he has stuff going on too.  But he read it, we’re still speaking, so that’s all  good.

So – i almost didn’t do the no-panty thing yesterday cause i got called in to do an assessment at a rural jail in the early, early morning, and something about going into a jail makes me cling to my panties.  {laughing}  And ‘Nilla – this is not food for your fantasies.  No.  Please, no.

However, it occurred to  me that i could take the panties off on my way to work afterwards, in the truck stop where i routinely stop for coffee after a jail run.  Which is how i found myself pulling them off over my boots in the bathroom stall of a Pilot gas station.  Stuffing them in my coat pocket.

i wore thigh highs instead of tights, since otherwise it would have been kind of pointless, and that’s always a kind of sexy feeling anyhow.   But it did make me think somewhat longingly of Molly’s tights with the cut-out.  Cause there was some cold breeze blowing up under my skirt!

It was amazing to me how much more aware of my thighs i was.  After all, my panties don’t cover my thighs, so i don’t know why i was so in tune with – O!  Sure i do.  Duh.  No tights covering them.   Sheesh.

Ok.

Yeah, lots of naked feeling.  And it was kinda nice.  Kind of erotic.  Increased awareness of my sexuality.  Able to focus on the sensation of being partially naked during the long drive to work, which was fun, and slightly arousing.

Of course, then i got to work, and really, it was a killer day, so there wasn’t much time to contemplate anything, much less be in touch with my erotic self.  After a while, the thigh highs got annoying. 

However –

there were those moments. 

Just a moment here and there – when i sit down, and feel the silkiness of my slip against my bare skin.

When i walk down the hall, suddenly, intensely aware of my nakedness under my skirt. 

When i shift in my chair, tucking a leg up under me, feeling air stir on my pussy, more aware than usual of the need to make sure i was covered.

When he texts to tell me he’s thinking about me, knowing that he knows when no one else does.

{smiling}  Yeah, it had its moments.

Work is not the best place for it.  Winter not the best time.  But it brightened a cold, dreary day just a little bit.

 

…Maybe 12 or 13 years ago…

… i worked with a woman named Shawn.  We were good friends.  She started dating a man, i’ll call him Dan.  She liked him a lot.

She hadn’t been dating him very long when everyone else began to notice some serious red flags in their relationship.  i noticed them too.  She even noticed them.  She’d tell us a story and she’d say, “That’s a red flag, isn’t it?”

And we’d all nod our heads – therapists, social workers, psychologists, eating lunch in the staff lounge, nodding our heads, “Yes, Shawn, that’s a red flag.”

 

It was a red flag

 

She was a therapist too, so she knew about red flags.  And she kept dating him.

After a while, she’d tell us a story – she might say, “Gosh, he got really upset last night cause I was 10 minutes later getting home than I said I’d be.  He practically yelled at me!  Well, not yelled exactly, but he was really mad.  Of course, he explained it was just because he was worried about me.”

And someone would say, “Shawn.  That’s kinda – don’t you think that’s kind of a red flag?  You’ve only been dating for two weeks, does he think you have to answer to him?”

“Oh, no,” she’d say, “It’s not like that.  He just really cares about me.”

By the fourth week they were dating, she’d tell a story about what had happened and people at work were practically yelling at her, “This guy’s a jerk!  Why can’t you see that?!!”

“Really?” she’d say, “Do you think…  – I just think he’s insecure.  He just doesn’t know that I really like him.” 

 

There were many red flags...

 

By the fifth week, she’d quit telling stories about him at lunch.  “They just don’t like him,” she confided in me.  “They don’t understand.”

At the end of the sixth week, he got mad at her for something.  He called her a fat bitch and hit her.

We marveled at it later, she and i, how she’d gone through the whole cycle of an abusive relationship in 6 weeks.  Experienced the whole thing, from that first seductive stage of total attention and positive affirmations right up to the first hit.   He even sent flowers the next day.

She had been living a cliche.  And bright as she was, insightful, and educated, she had been lost in it.  As if there were a huge blind spot – she could describe what was happening, and yet couldn’t see it.

It was a great experience for her as a therapist – crazy though that may sound.  But it helped her understand what it was like for her clients – and helped me just watching her go through it.  If she could be sucked into that, then anyone could.

That was one lesson i took from that.

The other lesson was to listen.  i promised myself that if i was ever in that situation, if people around me were saying, “That’s a red flag, That’s a red flag,” then i would listen to them.

So i am listening now. Not just to the comments on my recent posts, although yes, definitely.  Also to the kind private message i got from a fellow blogger’s Sir, pointing out the red flags. 

And – i deeply appreciate it.  i am not saying, “They just don’t understand.”

And Sin is right.  She said, “You like this guys mind and he likes yours…”  That’s true.  And i haven’t shared  all kinds of things that i like about the way he thinks, because that suddenly seems more private. 

But i need to say – i’m drawn to him.  There is something there that reaches out to me.  You know, i think that BDSM is to the vanilla world as the subconcious or the shadow side of ourselves is to the ego.   So if there is “work” for my soul there, i don’t want to turn away from it.  i just need to figure out what the work is.

So here’s my plan.  

i will slow down.

i will enjoy the on-line thing we’ve got going, and be patient.

i will not meet him anywhere, or even plan on meeting him, until we’ve talked on the phone a number of times.  If i’m still not comfortable, i’ll ask him to get a web camera so we can have face to face contact.

When we do meet, if we meet, it will be in a way that makes me feel comfortable.  We may play, or we may not.  i won’t make any committments ahead of time. 

i’ll make sure i’m setting limits as we go along, and watching the interactions between us.  i won’t quit talking about him.

And we’ll see what happens.

 

Thinking

BR writes:

“As she lay on the bed, she had closed her eyes.  The better to focus on his each and every touch of her.  His gently inserting the hook into her, snugging it into place, fingers inside her getting it in and adjusting, and along the way, he was sending her body messages of love – tender touches of hands as he worked with her, gentle brushing hands, fingers on her as he got her body ready for the coming activity.  Periodically stopping his other activities to run hands over her calves, thighs, butt, pelvis, stomach, cupping breasts, gently rolling and tugging nipples – telegraphing her the message he loved her, her body very much, making sure she knew.  Sight had detracted from that so she had closed eyes to focus just on the touch….”

Really – if that’s not a lovely fantasy…  You know, i’ve never experienced a “pussy hook,” –  so of course i google it:

A tail hook is approximately a half-inch thick and has a ring on the straight end for a rope attachment. The curved end is inserted into either a vagina or anus. Tail hooks that are not pussy hooks are sometimes referred to by the term ass hook. …

The pussy hook (a.k.a. pussy hanger) is a special model of tail hook. It has a sharper angle and longer shaft than a normal tail hook. It is also thicker than a normal tail hook (approximately one inch thick). Some models have a ring at the end for a rope to be attached (much like the other hooks). Anchor shaped double pussy hooks exist for two simultaneous users.

Pussy hooks that are silver in color are commonly referred to as the “Silver Clit-hook”.

In the fantasy, he talks about using one with  a padded ball at the end so it doesn’t do any harm…  But it’s a fantasy, right – this is not Plan A.   And i promise i haven’t totally lost my mind.  

Well, maybe i can’t actually promise that, but i don’t think i have.

i got a message on fetlife last night from a friend who’s spending the winter in warmer countries.   In the nicest way possible, he says:

“Might it not be better to take a breather for a while, examine yourself and your desires, before you allow another Dom to, well, dominate you?

Yes.  Of course he’s right. 

Interesting that part of what draws me to BR is the intense arguments, the negotiating.  He has come back saying yes, he needs to come to my space.  Which leads me back to the other part of the agreement – the play part.

You know, back a couple of years ago, i met a man on a vanilla dating site.  i’ll call him T.  Nice guy – he lived in a midwestern state about 12 hours away.  We e-mailed each other for months, talked on the phone some, and grew very fond of each other.

So after a while, he decided to come see me.  Now, understand, we had only talked as friends, we hadn’t been romatic or sexual at all.  He was in the middle of a divorce, and we hadn’t discussed our relationship other than as friends.

But of course i was wondering.  i suppose he was too. 

By a fluke, i was going to a two-day workshop in a city a couple of hours away from home.  So it ended up, he drove there, i rode to the workshop with a co-worker, and when the workshop ended, i rode home – to my home – with him on Friday.

He stayed in a hotel for the weekend, and we continued to be friends.  We did vanilla things, talked and laughed.  We never touched each other, until we hugged good-bye when he left.

To this day, the whole visit has a sort of surreal feel to it.  He never came back, and we pretty much quit e-mailing each other not too long after that, although, we’re still fb friends. He never bitched about having driven 12 hours for “nothing.”  And i didn’t feel bad about it. 

So why on earth did i agree to “play” with BR?

Um.

Because i want to.

Which does raise that whole “slut” concept…  o, dear.

But that’s the point of meeting for us, really, isn’t it?  To see if we’re compatible that way?  And really, he knows it needs to be consenual, whatever we agree to do.  And he promises that if i really didn’t want to, we wouldn’t.  

But what would be the better thing to do? 

Yes, normally i like to observe the 3 date rule.  But – am i going to make him come down here, not play, then i go up there and not play, and then maybe meet somewhere inbetween?  i don’t see that happening.

Ok, maybe this is crazy.  i don’t know.

Anyhow.  There’s time to think about it.  Time to back out if i need to.   Given the mountains between us, we”ll wait til spring anyhow. 

 

 

This would not be a good idea...

And yes, maybe i do need to continue to back up and think.  To breathe.  To be in touch with myself…

Negotiating

Are you all sure you want to take this stupid roller coaster ride with me?  i love the company, but sheesh, this is not so much fun.

BR and i want to meet.  i might want it more than he does, i don’t know.  i want what he calls “the 5 minutes at dunking donuts” – those first five minutes where you think, “O, yes,” or “O, no.”  Call me silly, i just want to know.

So yesterday we spent hours IM’ing, trying to figure out how to make it happen.  He lives about 10 hours away from me.  We talked about meeting half way.  We talked about me going there.  We talked about him coming here. 

We talked and talked and talked.

Now, understand that unlike most of the people i know, BR doesn’t have a public profile.  At all.  No facebook page, no linked-in, no fetlife profile.  None of that.  i haven’t seen a picture of him.  Haven’t heard his voice.

He’s used three different names at different times with me, one of which is his real name.

Understand that the “reference” he gave me is a woman who lives kind of near me, but who i’ve only communicated with via e-mail.  

Call me silly, i just don’t see how i can, in good conscience hop on a plane and fly out to Where-He-Lives.  i think there really are  risks in that i don’t want to take.  It doesn’t feel safe.

And at some point in the negotiating, he agreed with that.  He said he could see that it wouldn’t be a good idea.  He said that as a “Master” he was responsible for the well-being of his “property” and he could see that doing that would be a risky move for me.

So we negotiatied an understanding about him coming here.  Understand, this was a tough negotiation for both of us.  Hours, we spent hours.

Finally, i agreed to his terms.  48 hours together, forgoing my usual activities.  The same thing that i wouldn’t agree to just a week or so ago.

i agreed to 48 hours as play partners, unless it turns out that we are just totally incompatible.  He agreed that if we are just totally incompatible, he wouldn’t even want to play and he’d leave me alone.  i agreed that i’d at least give it – the relationship, the play partner thing – a chance.

This was not an easy negotiation.  We spent hours.   At the end, i’m tired, happy, and eager for him to come see me.

i go to eat dinner – just in my kitchen  – i am only gone for about 50 minutes.  50 minutes.

i come back  – he’s looking at air fares, fussing about how expensive they are.  Next thing i know, he’s talking about flying me out there

????????????????????????????????????????????????

So i’m a little confused.  What happened to that whole conversation we had about him coming to me the first time?  Just the first time, mind you.  Not every time for ever and ever.  But what happened to the agreement????

Apparently it was gone.  Out the window.  Forgotten, as if it had never happened.

All those hours of negotiating...gone

So i’m trying to understand – not just his sudden need for me to come there, but how the whole conversation we had about why it was important for me to be safe could be gone.  What’s the point of reaching an understanding, if it doesn’t last an hour?

Then he accuses me of having a hidden agenda, that i must have some reason why i want him there – and it just goes down hill from there, cause i get pissed.  And then he tells me he doesn’t handle people being mad at him well, he tends to withdraw – and i think –

you stir me up, don’t keep our agreement, accuse me of i-don’t-even-know-what –  and when i finally get mad, you tell me you can’t handle that and you’ll withdraw????

 -fuck this

You know, i was looking for a Dom when i found this one… {laughing}

And you know, here’s the thing, when we were talking the first time about it, i didn’t say i definitely wouldn’t come out there.  All i said was that we’d have to figure out what i’d need to feel safe about it.

What’s gotten to me now is that the agreement we had didn’t hold up for an hour.

Ok, so we end on a gee, it’s been nice to know you, good luck in the future.   And i go to bed resigned – and maybe relieved.  No more holding the tension of maybe.  It’s ok, i know how to move on, right?

Get up this morning to find a long e-mail from him.  He references an experience he’d told me about-  driving 12 hours to meet someone who stood him up because the pictures she’d sent him weren’t what she really looked like.  It goes on to say a lot of other things, but the bottom line is –

- here i am again. 

         Back in the frigging realm of maybe.

 sigh.