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Overly familiar D/s usages

This is most of a Twitter conversation I had with MintyBaubles this morning about what I consider overly familiar D/s terminology among people not in a negotiated relationship. It’s a pet (NPI) issue of mine.

Posted with permission.

Screenshot 2014-11-10 06.43.04

 
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Posted by on November 10, 2014 in D/s, Daily Life, General / Overhead

 

Pictures of the dragon cooking

The stove made the kitchen hot! Honest!

http://nagadikandang.tumblr.com/post/100190094147/the-dragon-cooks

 
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Posted by on October 16, 2014 in General / Overhead

 

Orgasm control: Our next steps

Today is day 22 since my last orgasm, which at the time triggered a three-week “sentence” of denial. This morning, we had a long conversation about keeping me in a state of ‘want’ without relying solely on denial–which is the most reliable way to keep me wanting an orgasm, but, among other concerns, can take the day-to-day control away from Jalan. Neither of us wants a situation in which she doesn’t stick to her word.

The thrust (ha!) is that orgasm control of any kind isn’t much fun for either of us unless I am aware of it as continuously as possible. And that usually is going to mean wanting to come. So we both want me to feel any deprivation or other loss of control.

Jalan told me today what we’re going to do this week and see how well it meets her goals as an ongoing plan.

In the morning, before she goes to work, she’ll write on my cock, with a Sharpie or some such. (Presumably this means I’ll start showering early, too, instead of waiting until she’s headed out.) Sometime during the day, she’ll communicate to me whether she wants the writing pristine, smudged (for example, by edging myself), or washed away by cum when she gets home. Since I’m always naked when she comes home from work, as part of our new rituals, that will also be time for inspection.

So I’ll be thinking about her control of my orgasms at least three times per day, and likely quite a few more between her leaving and her sending me the directions. And I have no assurance at all that I’ll get to come this week, until and unless I get the last of those messages.

This meets a lot of the same needs for me as “declared” denial: I know she’s actively controlling my orgasms every day, without the feeling (that neither of us likes) that there’s some default status where I get lucky if she wants me to, but it’s not necessarily on either of our minds any given day. On her side, it keeps the control right where she wants it–in her hands at all times–and keeps me keenly aware of that control and that I am at her mercy.

Then there was teasing.

 
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Posted by on September 21, 2014 in Chastity and denial, D/s

 

Health updatery, with big things ahead

I’m complaining on Twitter about having a post-air-travel cold, so that made me think to post an update here.

The Chronic Fatigue Syndrome is, overall, pretty well managed. ‘m getting in regular light physical activity. I’m eating fairly well. I’m calibrating how much I can work, and I’m developing a more healthy (for lack of a better word) toward work.

It seems I can target around 15-20ish hours per week of work/business stuff without much risk of relapse. But part of avoiding that relapse is stopping work for the morning or the day, or even the week, when I can feel that I’m pushing myself to get through something. I take my naps when I need to. I stop and watch TV or read a book when that’s what I feel like. Per Jalan, I take a lunch break, and I spend an hour or two most weekday mornings in a coffee shop. There are certain kinds of work I’m permitted in the coffee shop, but otherwise it’s a gradual entry to the day and taking some time for self-care. This also helps keep me from going stir-crazy now that she’s working long hours. I’m prone to cabin fever.

15-20 hours doesn’t sound like a lot to me. It does help me realize that if I had any other career than the one I do, I’d be filing for Social Security disability. There’s no doubt or equivocation about that. There is no full-time occupation I could do. But I also, as I’ve talked about recently, have the good fortune to have the skills to bring in a decent income in those 15-20 hours (some weeks more like 10, some more like 25). It does mean I’m shedding any “donated” time. I can’t afford the opportunity cost to work on a project that may someday might we hope lead to funding. And that’s a good thing to realize. I’ve been behind on my commitments since the relapse at the beginning of August. I’m slowly catching up, but I’m being very careful about making new ones.

But on the upside, I took a work trip this week. I flew across the country to give a presentation at a conference. It’s the first time I’ve traveled for work since getting sick, and I used to go around the globe. It’s only my second air travel since CFS, and the other was for the Mayo Clinic. It wasn’t the best presentation I’ve given, but it wasn’t the worst, and I attended some other talks while I had the endurance. Now I’ve got a cold and I’ve napped around eight hours today, but totally worth it. For the rebound in self-concept, if nothing else.

All that said: One of the possibilities for my fatigue syndrome isn’t “classic” CFS, whatever that would be, but a disorder in mitochondrial metabolism. The test for this is usually a muscle biopsy, which is typically taken from the bicep. I haven’t done it yet because I was on anti-platelet meds through this July after the arterial stent last year. No responsible doctor would take the risk of doing that biopsy unless it addressed something acutely life-threatening. But I’ve scheduled an appointment with my internist for this week to talk about setting up the consult at the Muscular Dystrophy Association clinic at the local hospital to see how we’d go about it. So we might learn something new.

Part of the timing of this, even though the CFS is “managed,” is because I’ve also realized I need to think about scheduling heart surgery to correct a congenital defect. The defect was found in the Summer of Diagnostics last year. It’s not causing any problems yet, but will eventually if un-addressed. So I might as well get it done while I’m in as good shape as I am, and I’m forecasting to Jalan’s next significant vacation availability to help me recuperate.

And, of course, no biopsy again if I were to do the heart surgery first.

My mood about all of this is good. There’s probably not much that could be done about a mitochondrial disorder, but it could affect the management strategies to have a more precise diagnosis. That, and I’d (finally!) know which specialists to be working with.

There’s a lot ahead of me, but there’s also a lot behind me, and I’m in good spirits. Except for the damned cold, but that’s the least of things. It feels weird in some ways to be upbeat about heart surgery, but I’ll take “upbeat” over “depressed” any day of the week.

 
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Posted by on September 14, 2014 in Health

 

Photoset from the last post

I posted some photos to Tumblr from the scene I talked about last time.

Need I say NSFW? Doubtful.

 
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Posted by on September 7, 2014 in Chastity and denial, D/s, Play

 

State of the dragon: D/s, SM, & denial, oh my!

We played last night.

Heavier play, probably, than since 2012.

Since I’ve been sick (from early 2013), there’s been a sense of fragility, as well as a general sense of ‘survival mode.’ Even as my health has more or less stabilized, I was on anti-platelet meds for a year, until late July, so impact play wasn’t particularly safe.

The overall fragility has also left our level of D/s subdued. Jalan doesn’t want to command me to do something, only for me to “not be up to it,” or suffer for a day or three afterward due to the stress, however welcome in the moment, aggravating the CFS. That, and survival mode: what’s happening, what’s going to happen next, am I going to get better, etc, the move, her starting a job, and so on.

We’ve still been very clearly a D/s, O/p couple, but it’s been more in terms of structures, frameworks, standing rules, and so on. Jalan’s felt little room to assert herself in the moment, for reasons in the previous paragraph, and we both miss it. Play’s also been lessened, other than bondage, sometimes with sex and/or teasing.

Over recent weeks, we’ve been discussing this and what we want to do about it, both of us offering ideas, concerns, needs and wants. One of the critical things we agreed to is that the CFS won’t stop us/her. If I’m having a particularly bad day, I’ll make sure she knows. But she also knows my schedule in detail and, at any given time, what I’ll need to be in shape for in the next couple of days. And when she asserts herself, that’s it — no rebuff.

One of the other things we’ve discussed is a ritual “giving over,” especially now that she’s working most of the daytimes and we have even less opportunity for in-the-moment connection. We’ve also discussed the fact that this will likely to trigger anxiety attacks in me, at least the first few times. Her alerting me to something coming up tends to. But it’s important to me to push through that stage.

Finally, we talked a couple of weeks ago about my needing more explicit orgasm denial and/or use of the chastity belt.

Last night, Jalan acted on these things.

Spoiler: I’m fatigued today

This was an important taking back.

She ordered me to gather up certain things, including her crop and our dildo-harness gag, and to put my wrist and ankle cuffs on. Then there was, for us, fairly heavy play. I’ve got hickeys, deep scratches, bite marks, and crop marks. Her feet were well kissed, and her toes well sucked, which we (mostly she) are just recently getting into. There were some new things, including a bit of something like four-legged pony, which we’d not discussed or explored before. Not carrying her anywhere–that would be beyond me–but her straddling my back and using the crop while I’m on all fours. There was gag-harness sex aplenty.

Then she had me fetch the big spreader bars and the mindfold for a new “game.” I was spread-eagled with the spreaders anchored to the bed. She would stroke me. If I came within an hour (this is after a week of denial and teasing, mind), there would be another two weeks of denial. What would happen if I “won” was left unstated.

So we talked while she masturbated me. We discussed my strategy. We discussed my disadvantage (one of many) in not being able to see a clock. We discussed whether I would play to win or play to lose, and some of the contingencies involved. We talked about what winning might involve, or what I might want it to. Then she upped the level by introducing new rules, which is always a major turn-on for me. This week is a trial of something edging past dominant/owner to disciplinarian/mistress. On her work mornings, I wake her with oral–something she loves, but I’m still cautious of (long-standing reasons). When she returns from work, she calls or texts me (timing varies) so that I can be naked, in cuffs, kneeling face on the floor, and holding out her crop. When she comes home, she is “Mistress,” (vs. “Ma’am”) until I’m released from the protocol. That last was my suggestion. Then came the silicone lube in quantity and I was a goner.

31 minutes. Oh, and meanwhile, the stakes had been raised to three weeks with plans for a regimen of teasing, not just spontaneous and occasional.

We don’t invest a lot in labels, except for the importance of “pet” to me. We use them as metaphors that carry certain symbolism to us, and may convey something reasonably accurate to most others. But whatever you call it, it’s deepening.

This is good.

I’m highly fatigued today. And that, too, is good.

ETA: I should note for my chastity-focused readers that three weeks is a long time for us–the longest to date was 27 days. And there were no promises made about what happens at the end of those three weeks.

 

 
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Posted by on August 31, 2014 in Chastity and denial, D/s, Play

 

Empathy for mental illness: It cuts both ways

Since Robin Williams’s suicide, there has been a heightened national discussion of depression and other mental illness. Much of this discussion is from people who have experienced depression and can understand how it could drive a seemingly happy, successful, and loved person to suicide. Much of the more publicized discussion is from people who have not experienced depression (or think “a few bad days” or “sadness” is the same thing) and can not understand that.

I just read John Scalzi’s blog post responding to Henry Rollins’s victim-blaming LA Weekly piece (not linked here). Scalzi says in the post that he has not experience depression, but also that he knows that he does not know what it’s like.

On reading this, I realized that I have no understanding of what being mentally healthy is like. My mental illnesses are so much a part of my inner life, and have been literally as long as I can remember, that I don’t know what it would be like to view the world without that lens. These illnesses are better controlled now than they have ever been, but they are still present and I always know what it is like when they are, for lack of a term, asserting themselves.

The upshot is that I do not have the experience of a Henry Rollins or other victim-blamers. I do not understand what it is like to not understand these problems. Yes, the cultural wisdom is gradually moving toward a disease model of mental illness. But slowly, and not uniformly, either across social sectors, individuals, or specific disorders.

It makes me look in myself for some empathy for the mentally healthy as they respond (clumsily) to the mentally ill.

EDIT: My friend Tomio Black has followed this up with his own thoughts.

 
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Posted by on August 24, 2014 in General / Overhead, Health

 
 
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