Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Things Go Haywire But Still a Good Scene, Part Three

As I sit down to write this, I’m in a state of worry—will I ever know how to see a relationship with a man through any lens other than abandonment? Why does my brain equate “I like him.” with “He is going to go away and never come back.” and also “I am not good enough.” Mister Hazel Eyes might have been a doofus on our date, but that doesn’t change the fears that I have to learn my way out of. Are my abandonment issues and distrust things I can overcome, or will they keep me from ever realizing a true and lasting connection with a man? I guess all I can do to find out is go forward.

After rope class, we sat off to the side on the padded benches where people usually congregate and talk. Sweetie spanked me in the same place just a few months ago, in our first public scene. There were a few couples over there, but MHE and I were in our own little bubble of conversation. He felt so good there next to me but I still felt uneasy. I told him I was having trouble believing that he didn’t actually belong to someone else. I know that sounds weird coming from someone who is married and dating, but I just kept suspecting that he was being unscrupulous, especially after he said not to leave bite marks—he said he was worried his mom might see them, he said. I said that sounded like bullshit, and he pointed to Nice Girl as well—“Well she should know about me because I AM A PERSON.” I said and he said he’d told her about me. I didn’t believe that either. “You seem really…married. Are you worried that Betty Draper will see?”

We wrestled away the tension of it—I pushed and pulled against his arms, and he said “You can start trying any time.” He was delightfully strong. I shoved him against the wall and kissed him and he held me and I struggled—perfect. We got up to look at some of the other scenes going on—some neat suspension work—and he took that opportunity to wrestle me up against the bar and bite my ass. There’s a glee that comes up in me when a guy’s trying to hold me down, a thrill of recognition, a fruition. In those moments, I am so excited and grateful to be alive.

Then it was—hooray!—time to go over his knee. This was what I’d been waiting for, there’s nothing so comforting as being sprawled across his lap, elbows on the bench, cute shoes in the air like a pinup. His hands wove into my hair and pulled—that’s where the real magic started. He pulled up my pajama bottoms so that my butt cheeks were exposed. I was conscious of the couples nearby, and I liked knowing they could see my ass, see me being so vulnerable to him.

“You’re such a fucking good girl, do you know that? I fucking adore you.”

After a few more spankings and affirmations of my adorableness, he pulled me up to his face and kissed me. I asked if he wanted to take my top off and held up my arms. After he pulled my shirt off sweetly, I leaned back so that he could take a look at me, Hello Kitty nipple tape and all. He looked happy. He buried his head in my chest and I held him there, right where I’d been wanting him.

We took a break to go get drinks, and he went a little bit back to douchetown—he told me red wine’s for pussies, even said it in a lispy voice, which I promptly called out as homophobic, with a “HMPH! Straight guys, I swear.”

“Okay,” he said, “Okay.” Kinda like he was choking back an argument.

I liked the feeling of walking to the bar near-naked with him—I felt like a whore to him, like something he’d just purchased. It was a dark, sad feeling, connecting me to all of the ways that women have been owned in both good and terrible ways. I felt empowered, anonymous, and chosen. It was a strange kinship with the ladies of the world, a darkly feminine moment, and I feel a little ashamed of it.

Next: Tied to a kneeler with very helpful ropes.


  1. After reading through all three parts so far, here's what I'm coming away with. Stop me if you've heard this one. (wait, how does that work in comments.... *shrugs*)

    You're into him. No, really, you're IN TO HIM. You want all the little texts and touches that show he feels the same way about you, because dammit, that's what people do. He's not doing that, and because of your extra focus level on him you're hypersensitive to every little thing he does, be it right or wrong.

    You are right to feel like he should treat you as girlfriendly as he is treating Nice Girl. What's more, you're even more right to insist he pay attention to you and not his phone when you're out together. Him being buried in his phone instead of you makes you feel like he's somewhere else, and I'm not sure he realizes that.

    It's obvious he's new to Poly. We all go through that at some point. Hell, I'm STILL going through it, and I lived it full time for 8 months. it's also obvious that he's new to shibari, and I can't blame him at all for feeling overwhelmed and stressed trying to focus on learning new knots, not hurting you, and staying engaged enough with you to make you feel special. I was a Boy Scout, I know how frustrating some of those damn knots can be, and I built fucking 30 foot towers from logs and rope. I can't do a quarter of the stuff the good riggers in Tampa can do. Those guys are bad-ass.

    What I see is that you two are moving at different paces. You know Poly, you're comfortable with it. You know Kink and Shibari, and crave that. He's new to all of it, and is having trouble processing how to be good for you, THERE for you, learn the things you're into, and not make a mess of it all. And yes, adding Nice Girl to the mix further complicates it, because now he's trying to establish his own little Poly network while still trying to become accustomed to being part of yours.

    You're frustrated because he's not the best communicator -- fuck, can Mrs. AP relate. I'm a neanderthal at that sometimes, but she has the patience to see me through it and pushes me to come back around without nagging about it. My thing, especially, is being told "You never talk to me about anything" makes me clam up tighter. It's a reflex. My brain shuts down and all I can think of for hours is "Shit, how do I talk more?" It breaks the natural flow of information.

    You're going to have to either coach him through becoming a better communicator -- which it sounds like you made some steps toward with the remark of how he checks in with Nice Girl but not with you -- or you're going to have to adapt to being frustrated with him and phase that frustration into something positive.

    You're getting some great highs with him when he engages fully and gives you his all. Help him learn how to do that more consistently, and you'll both be fine. I know you can do it. You're just too awesome to not. ;-)

    Stay SINful
    Mr. AP

  2. Awww, thanks. I feel less harpylike already. If I had it to do over, I've given us both more leeway to screw up, and I do see how hard we were both trying. Unfortunately, I think this might already be over, so I might have to take these lessons on to the next guy(s). I miss him already but I hope he's deciding to do what makes him happiest.