Slitherings

13 years under our belts, together

2009-11-28T02:50:00.008-05:00

Today marks our anniversary.

Tomorrow we start in on year fourteen, a simple fact I find stunning.

We came together at a point of time and space that feels almost unimaginable by any measure of 'the broader community' today.

It was a magical night, a space with an undertone of deep humour and whimsy to it, and our coming together was borne of trust and an odd form of being "vouched for" by a friend dear to both of us.

Both of us had traveled to be there, open to possibilities, yet unaware of what we ultimately found until we were both tumbling headlong into it. From that night forward, my life changed in ways I never could have imagined at the time.

There are elements of that time and space I truly wish were possible to recapture. At the same time, having now been Sir's so long, through so much, in so many places, I can only say despite the changes surrounding us, I am still, so very honoured to be here now.

In some ways I feel we're hitting our stride, stronger than ever. There is a certain sense of clarity.

As always, I can but thank Sir for this, my life.

Preparation for Floating World III

2009-08-08T18:31:00.019-04:00

(Nope, I still haven't managed to make time to write about Sex 2.0, nor a recap of our first Shibaricon. Slitherings has been having a quiet little Summer, even if we haven't.)

By way of more current events, in just under two weeks we will be traveling to our third Floating World event in New Jersey.

In the end, Sir made the decision to finally register, though we had reserved our hotel room some time back. It felt good to see this was something he wanted as well. In the end, I had left the final decision up to him.

It has all become just a bit intimidating in light of how large Floating World has rapidly become, but this year's event, (taking over the entire center,) should have a flavour all its own. I see many first timers planning to attend. We tend to feel more comfortable in somewhat more intimate events, but as we've been attending the Floating World from its beginnings, it feels an event that has been an important part of our history as well. We'll have to see how it feels.

In any case, I'm edging towards packing over the next few days, probably traveling fairly lightly this year. I'm starting in on the Leathers, making sure they're polished and shined, making the difficult choices about which tools we want to take, and trying to get into the headspace it takes to be ready to enjoy an event with well over a thousand people registered.

___

In light of what a brief post this is, I thought I might leave you with a visual treat; a website with plenty of links to a number of artists and and woodblock print images of Japan's Floating World, A Guide to the Ukiyo-e Sites of the Internet.

Such as this lovely offering from Ogata Gekko:

Back from Sex 2.0

2009-05-09T19:08:00.006-04:00

Sir and I have a great deal to chew on and ponder. (Yes, we went together.)

I'm not ready to write a post on my experiences at Sex 2.0 just yet.

That said, by way of backgrounder to what I may eventually write, readers should first read through these two posts (and the comment threads) on Amber Rhea's blog:

Thoughts on Sex 2.0 past, present, and future

Thoughts on Sex 2.0 thoughts

On Transgression and Transgressive Identity

2009-05-06T10:45:00.009-04:00

Trinity has written an interesting post about transgression over on Let Them Eat Pro-Sm Feminist Safe Spaces. The resultant comment thread has some real gems in it.

As I've been thinking and writing on the concept of transgressive identity as of late, I added my own small contribution that I wanted to copy across to here for organizational sake.

Habu said...

From a somewhat different angle, I've been thinking about and beginning to write about transgressive identity. Those of us who for one reason or another clearly live on what many would feel is "that side of the line."

It has to do with the difference between (to create but one of many examples) those for whom "kink" is something they do only in the bedroom and only on Thursday nights, and those who live as Leathermen or Leatherwomyn.

There are those who live day to day on the socially reinforced side of the line, yet "transgress," making short duration traverses across into what many would deem "dangerous territory."

Then there are others who live over the line. We live in a state of "transgression" not out of some sense of it being "hip" or "rebellious," but as simply our day to day reality.

For some (particularly around aspects of gender presentation) it's not a matter of "choosing" to live across the line, (as attempting to put a Stone Butch in a dress often has the effect of only making their Stone Butch-ness all the more obvious.)

For others it is a conscious decision, yes, they COULD pass, but instead they remain true to themselves.

I think a lot of how bystanders tend to understand the term "trangression" or "trangressive" has to do with their preconceived notions of transgression as a mark of immaturity, or as a hit and run form of cultural rebellion.

Whereas for those of us who live on this side of the line, it's anything BUT a skittish little dance across the line for titillation purposes, it's simply our real day to day lives.

What remains by and large invisible to those same bystanders is the amount of shit those who transgress as a matter of breathing often endure, and the often random nature of the violence many trangressively identified individuals endure.

To take a real world example, getting beaten leaving a Pride march, simply for the fact of being identified as a member of class Queer. The nuances and details of the individual being beaten are subsumed to the fact that he or she has been identified as a member of a "trangressive" class of people.

There are those who cringe at being labeled "deviant," but for those of us who live over here, it's actually a fairly useful piece of terminology, as yes, our lives do deviate in many meaningful ways from the lives of those living on the other side of that line.

We also recognize that those of us over here are not a majority. To transgress or deviate means we have taken a different path from most (what many incorrectly term "the norm.")

There is no need for shame in being transgressive, or behaving trangressively. For many in Leather historically speaking, it's been a point of pride.

There are reasons Leather history is littered with names such as the Outcasts, the Renegades, the Rebels... .

Likewise there's a reason we focus on Leather Families, "Chosen Families," Backpatch Clubs, and Tribes. These "other side of the line" social structures have been and are important survival mechanisms for not only finding one's new place on this side of the line, but sometimes as a means of dealing with the rejection of biological family or previous friends.

Transgressive identities, living daily in realms of Gender, Queerness, or Leather, (to name but a few such possibilities) far from being explorations or hot brief duration excursions, are often marked by tending to have a certain maturity and sense of having come home to oneself.

It's somewhat of a different way of looking at transgression, but I think very central to much of what is happening to Leatherculture right now. There are those of us who understand that being Leather means living on this side of the line, and there are others for whom they still fully identify as members of the majority side of the line with this one "small" area of personal exception, their forays into kink.

29 April 2009 12:24

Tail end of Winter, dawn of Spring and the Sakura Matsuri

2009-03-15T10:52:00.023-04:00

My "little leather life" as of late has been fairly busy, though I've not been blogging it. Instead of attempting to catch up, I'll just make a brief note of our travels yesterday and other upcoming events, some Leather, others being more seasonally inspired.

Sir and I headed down into Washington D.C. yesterday for the Crucible's 18th biannual LF&P (Leather Flea and Play,) which as I've noted here before when writing about it, is more commonly referred to as the "elephant pee," hence the elephant logo.

We had originally thought we might be bringing a friend along with us this Spring but travel plans fell through and it turned into a nice event for just the two of us.

It was well into the afternoon by the time we arrived, a slight drizzle was coming down, but it seemed plenty crowded none-the-less.

I was on a mission of sorts, after some rope. We're going to make it to Shibaricon this year come hell or high water (after our thwarted attempt last year), so this was going to be one of my last chances to catch Rainbow Rope in person before we head towards Chicago.

We found some nice blue MFP for Sir, and a nice 50' piece of Blue and Black all of which came home with us. Afterwards we wandered a bit, looked at knives, but didn't quite see anything that felt quite right.

At one point, I did see someone across the room that we had met at Black Rose last Autumn, but by the time we had come back around she was nowhere to be seen. So this was yet another flea where we weren't really finding familiar faces.

We stumbled headlong into a happy surprise as we made our way towards the door. When we had come in through the library area it had been a mob scene and so we figured we'd come back through on our way out. Well sure enough, just as we were getting ready to leave we finally stumbled headlong into the "unique" and custom that I try to keep my eyes out for when we go to the Fleas.

Wooden canes (among other tools) with bone handles. Lovely, natural materials with soft leather work carefully bringing the pieces together. Sir said they felt really good in his hand and the balance felt wonderful.

My ex-wife and I used to discuss the importance of tools and how it was not merely about feeling amazing on the "receiving" end of a whip, but also about how a tool feels in the hand of one who wields it. Those conversations led her to create an incredibly special whip, one that will never be used on anyone else. It remains as a physical legacy of our time together.

These canes embodied that same spirit. One is long, the shaft a carefully polished hickory, the other a much shorter purple heartwood, perfect for intimate work. Stumbling into special pieces like these is precisely part of the reason we go to the fleas and vendors rooms at events.

I protected our newfound treasures from the rain as we wandered back to our vehicle. All notions of a trip to the National Arboretum or even a quick drive around the tidal basin to see how far along the sakura blossoms were fell by the wayside in the bleakness of the rainy afternoon.

Instead, we stopped back by one of my old neighborhoods for good pizza and beer and just plain spending some time together, talking on into the evening. The drive back home in the rain made a perfect end to the day.

In other news, we are looking forward to DC and Philly's Sakura Matsuri both this month and in April. (Click here to see more information about this year's DC featured poster artist, Carol Tomasik. I love this year's design!)

We celebrate every year, welcoming the cherry blossoms and marking the occasion is part of our Household. Along our way back home yesterday, we saw a few trees already in bloom, so I suppose I can at long last break out the Sakura incense.

For just a few short weeks each year the whole house smells of the blossoms and incense, and I take long hot baths in Sakura bath salts. The tub gets filled with pink water and I listen to lots of koto and shakuhachi music. It is all part of how we shake off the last of Winter. For now, I'm trying to decide what events over the course of the festivals we'll actually make it to.

We have also made the decision to go to the (first ever!) Charm City Fetish Fair near Baltimore. I'm actually very excited about the event, in part because I'll be having a number of friends from out of state coming in for the event. We're working to schedule meals and possibly sleepovers, and other such around the edges of the event. It should be a good time.

So we've been keeping busy.

January and February have also been important months in terms of my "little Leather life", but I will leave those stories to another post.

Of Kink and Blog-o-sphere Kerfuffles

2009-02-23T05:21:00.028-05:00

Generally, I tend to avoid the anti-S/m dust ups around the blog-o-sphere that spring forth with stunning regularity from the keyboards of those who co-opt the term "radical feminist."

But every so often enough pissed friends point me at enough bullshit that I can occasionally be coaxed into writing a little something.

This was originally intended as a brief comment to the Most. Awesome. Comment. Ever. post over on Let Them Eat Pro-SM Feminist Safe Spaces.

But it grew.

It grew beyond reason, and certainly beyond comment legnth.

So I've moved it here as a full post instead.

For readers who have no idea what this is all about, be glad. (Or read Pro-SM Feminist Safe Spaces' tag documenting the BDSM-and-feminism kerfuffle in inverse order, starting at the bottom of the page. Most of the relevant links are either in that or in the comments thereon.)

But back to that little comment that grew, here it is in it's entirety:

***

What so many of these oh-so-outraged women miss is that until fairly recently, it would have been exceptionally rare for them to have this level of visibility into the things we do.

Placing ads, exploring kink.com... by and large they wouldn't have had any immediate jumping off point to know WHERE to place such ads, (and it's still a LOUSY methodology,) or the ins and outs of the language were it not for the increased visibility in that they've been afforded.

Note that Leatherfolk were not out playing evangelists. The visibility they (the outraged) now enjoy comes as a direct result of commercialization, and into spaces where we self select and gather just as any other demographic has online.

Time was, not so long ago, that finding out about certain communications vehicles, much less entering into Leather spaces, would simply not have been an option for them.

To gain access to such meant going in person, and having someone willing to vouch for you. It meant entering what had often been a Gay male domain.

These days, they need only punch up whatever website they care to fear this week, get themselves all worked up, and then start typing.

A few rare Leathermen took me under their wings and taught me the core values of what being a Leatherperson entails; among them the critical importance of discretion, appropriate time and place, and "not frightening the horses" so to speak.

Of course for many of our critics they can only see the flat images on their screens, they know nothing of the ideology or highly ritualized behaviors that go with so much of Leather.

One of the first "Leather" books I was ever told to go read wasn't some (at the time unwritten!) manual of how to flog, nope I was told to go brush up on my Emily Post.

Those amazing Leathermen taught me the importance of being above reproach in one's dealings and finances, being a person of their word and personal honour, expressing deep loyalty towards those deserving of such, knowing when to defend oneself and one's tribe and when to hold your tongue, and not drawing attention.

To do otherwise could bring undue scrutiny down upon the community, these concepts being passed down from a time when raids on Gay spaces without so much as a pretense were common.

Yes, the net has changed everything, some for the good- breaking isolation and making "deviants" such as ourselves feel far less alone in this world.

But it has also come with a price- that things which were once deeply private and shown only to lovers or others deemed to have "the right stuff" and a deep willingness are now mere clicks away for any and all.

That and perhaps our critics have missed a key point, Lao-tzu's "Those who know don't talk. Those who talk don't know."

Certainly something they may wish to keep in mind the next time they should happen to be perusing the kink-o-sphere.

Splattered all over screens everywhere decontextualized images, a comic book notion of what Leather is, now readily available to every Joe and Jane Schmoe.

The vast majority of whom have no framework to fit some of what they're seeing into (even those within the community often have no mentors to answer questions, no training.)

Internal to the community AIDS had more to do with that than any online change in information flow could ever have done.

Yet for those external, yes we are in effect put 'on trial' because suddenly people who simply never would have seen what we do behind closed doors can now spend countless hours fixating and obsessing over how what we do must somehow affect them, or if not them, then at least the broader class of womyn more generally, or so their false notion goes.

The reality of course, is that we were doing this long before they noted our presence, and no, how I did or did not happen to fuck my wife did not affect broader class womyn other than to have if anything served as a binding closeness between the two of us in our (genuine) Radical Feminist activism.

All of it has been decontextualized down to the flat screen though. They know little to nothing of (and in certain cases absolutely refuse to discuss) the fact that much of what we call modern Leather comes not from the heterosexual end of things 9D is so obsessed over, instead many of the traditions have roots in the disempowered Gay Male sub-community of those who came back from WWII and didn't fit.

They looked at the suburban postwar world of "settling down" and having kids, and opted to hit the open roads on motorcycles with some of the few people who understood what they had seen and what they had been through, and their feelings for one another. They created small nomadic tribes with other men.

They were outsiders.

Womyn to womyn S/m has reflected those sentiments at times even more so, in that not only have we been Queer outsiders to the broader society, we are also often outsiders even to Gay Leather.

(Hence names such as "The Outcasts," "The Exiles", or more generally groups such as "The Renegades.")

To refuse to examine the origins and context much of leather culture grew in is not merely to erase Queer history and Queer methodologies of survival, but to actively reinforce the very heterosexism and heterocentrism they decry.

Ironically, they now claim to essentially speak on behalf of and in protection of womyn and womynkind- a feat only made possible when subsets of womyn who love and yes, ultimately sleep with other womyn, who know a great deal about womyn's authentic desires, and who have been (real) Radical Feminists since back in the day are relegated to "traitors" or "collaborators with the patriarchy." They thereby attempt the coup d’état of not merely erasing us, but usurping our positions as womyn who yes, know a thing or two about womyn.

To their minds, what we have to say are often unpleasant and unthinkable realities about womyn. Things that must then be projected into a form of "othering" as no "real woman" could ever possibly genuinely want the things we do, we must therefore to their thinking either be deluded or under a form of coercion, both of which conveniently disqualify us from what they now co-opt as "their" revolution.

Except of course, for them, it's more often than not revolutionary, as 9D herself would be/has been the first to fess up to. (See point 2 here.). To then utilize the term "Radical" (meaning "to the root") while explicitly rejecting "to the root" forms of social change, instead insisting that working within the existing systems (oh, LIBERAL feminism- bingo!) is the way to go is for her to 'wear the colors of the enemy' or co-opt our terminology for her own (assimilationist) purposes.

While for some Kinkyfolks, they may feel a need to justify themselves, now that we are being lied about, savaged and put up 'on trial,' others of us on the other hand, have always understood we were living at the edges and as exiles to begin with. I don't need to justify myself or my life to anyone.

I don't answer to those who co-opt and subvert the title "Radical Feminist" without ever so much as noting that some of us who used it long before they also wear (earned) Leathers, and were doing so long before the outraged-come-lately happened along.

As "exiles" we've always known that there is a time and place to stand our ground, and other times and places where going on the defensive or trying to justify our existence merely becomes counterproductive.

I've always been where the front lines are when it really matters, and if that's not "feminist" enough for those with smoke blowing out their ears from behind they keyboards, my answer really comes down to "Tough shit."

They've got a problem with it, it's their problem, not mine.

Now do some of us have a fair amount to say about the commercialization of the "work" we do, and the increased visibility into our world others are now afforded? Of course. But when it's time to say those things we do them in our spaces under our rules, not the false constraints of blogsites like 9D's, the preclude even my own existence as a Leatherwomyn.

Yeah I know, this is post-length. It's long overdue such be said- and as should be clear by now it's only going to be said in "our" spaces, not theirs.

***

I also made an earlier comment on another post on that same tag, Nope. I'll republish it here as well just to keep all my writings on this particular dust up available in a single place:

***

"If you have that kind of dark side, it might be best to leave it unexplored. Or kill yourself"

Yeah, I caught on that bit too.

For her, the notion of people like us existing in (her) world is just too frightening.

She would feel more comfortable if people like ourselves were either not here or at minimum not visible.

Since she's apparently not the type who feels the need to rid the world of us, herself personally, she'd rather we just "opt out."

A lot cleaner and neater that way.

Certainly no blood on her hands. No, certainly not.

The the instinct to purge those she finds so frightening, so terrifying, etc. lies just beneath the surface.

The difference being of course, radical feminist Leather womyn such as myself feel no need to purge the universe of the likes of her.

She who is so quick to condemn has never heard of me, knows nothing about me, and certainly isn't reading my (at times) "submissive" womyn's blogging in relation to a male partner.

I am after all both S/switch and Bi. Being such, I therefore fall straight on into the exception bin for her, that she so conveniently dismisses and refuses to discuss.

Womyn living within the context of consensual power exchange with other womyn is most certainly NOT on the agenda over there.

Of course our "individual experiences" are dismissed as she'd rather only discuss what she perceives as some twisted version of experiences on on the whole (what a handy way to dismiss any womyn who would dare disagree, and her own experiences.)

Nope, she'd rather bemoan the (commercial fetish) fate of the armory building, a building she herself by her own admission once coveted and now chalks up to having in essence, fallen into the hands of the enemy.

Seriously, gal, it's just real estate and sex, get over yourself already.

Sex the likes of which she both clearly has a fascination with and yet insists she sickened by.

This clearly qualifies her as having an opinion we should all listen to about on such matters- not so much.

Funny, I don't find myself writing post after post about whatever kind of sex she may (or may not) be having. 07 February 2009 10:05

***

Who knows, perhaps six months from now when the next regularly scheduled "feminist" anti-S/m dust up occurs I may just link to this post instead of wasting my time giving them essentially the same earful all over again.

UK's draconian and ill defined "Extreme Pornography" ban set to go into effect 1/26

2009-01-23T20:15:00.015-05:00

To say "I'm offended" would be a gross understatement.

The section of the act of the of the UK Criminal Justice and Immigration Act (CJIA) banning possession of so called "extreme pornography" is scheduled to go into effect January 26th.

Rather than attempting to characterize it myself, I'll point readers over to the Spanner Trust January Newsletter for a brief overview.

Before the new law goes into effect there will be a protest at Parliament-

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

Protest-

Consenting Adult Action Network at Parliament Sunday January 25th

Join us to mark the death of another freedom.

At 2-5pm

On Sunday 25th January 2009

Parliament Square Westminster, London (UK)

Download the flyer!

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

Being in the United States, much of what I have come to understand about the situation comes by way of web research and media reports, but I'll pass along some useful links for those interested.

Resources-

The commencement notice

The CJIA clauses criminalizing "extreme pornography"

Ministry of Justice further guidance

Opponents-

Backlash (see their about us page) monitors the implementation of the law. Their site chronicles the development of the law and the oppositional efforts working against it. It also includes a very useful media coverage roundup.

Also be sure to see Backlash's piece, Your Rights Upon Police Search, Arrest and Detention and their legal advisory.

Other useful links include-

The Spanner Trust

The Sexual Freedom Coalition

And The Consenting Adult Action Network

So long Bettie Page. So long, and thanks for the memories.

2008-12-15T21:31:00.014-05:00

Like most of the rest of the world, for me it was the photographs first. Long before I knew anything about Bettie Page the person, I knew the curl of her lip, the intense look in her eyes, the dark hair, high heels and the stockings, gloves and corsets (oh my!)

Images of Bettie like the one here to the left still to this very day, hold the power to take my breath away.

I'm not going to attempt to tell her story here, most of you already either knew it, or have spent the past day or so getting acquainted with the realities of her life.

Her life beyond the photography studios and outdoor sets took her to people and places and parts of the world far from those idealized moments captured in the images.

So in writing this, I begin how it began for me, with the images themselves and the now long lost world they came from.

Her passing is an occasion to contemplate the vast changes that have taken place in the world of fetish and BDSM in relation to communications and community.

Bettie became the icon she was due to the growth of the camera clubs and Irving Klaw's mailing list of then deeply closeted (purely for day to day survival purposes) clients. She was for all intents and purposes the first bondage supermodel to what was not so much a "community," as a matter of individuals secretly purchasing the images.

The photographs and films she starred in were not so much depictions of her own sexuality, rather they were often based upon requests from those purchasing the materials.

For me, (like many of her fans,) it was always about a certain look in her eye. Be that playing the confident, playful, or sultry Mistress, or the looks of concern or even fear at impending suffering that might lie ahead of her, depicted as the helpless beauty usually whist held captive in some form of bondage.

Her acting classes aside, the photographs capture the feeling of some of the most rare moments that Kinky people treasure; looks of apprehension and loss of control, becoming a canvas to an artist, both needing and fearing what comes next.

Or the slight smile at the corners of one's owner's mouth as she prepares to correct or discipline a girl who is clearly in need of it.

Being S/switch, I've both worn and known each of those looks myself.

I've seen similar on the faces of those I've loved.

Most of all though, I understand Bettie's frequent expressions of playfulness or triumph or of sheer joy.

We catch glimpses of these, from time to time, sometimes on the faces of others, sometimes on the faces of those we love.

We know what those moments feel like.

Perhaps that was the secret of why Bettie connected with her audience in the ways in which she did.

Yes, she was beautiful, that was clear from the start. Beautiful in an iconic idealized, unattainable way when it came to real life for most. But we could recognize in those photographs moments that we ourselves had either cherished (for those so fortunate as to actually have lived such out,) or for those at the time, much more likely merely fantasized about.

Looking through the images today, one of the more interesting aspects of them is how contemporary the tools appear. So many of the same sorts of fetish items and tools were in use back then as well; laced up hobble skirts, arm-binders, hoods, leather corsets, furs, extreme heels and thigh high boots, metal fetters and shackles, chains, and clips, spreader bars, harnesses, leather gags and blindfolds, and of course, the ever present seductive lingerie.

Plenty of everyday household items make appearances as tools as well, plenty of rope and hairbrush spankings.

Another thing I find very striking about the images is that Bettie Page taught the world that yes, real Femmes can wield whips.

In a day and age where gender roles are so frequently broken down into Butch or Masculine being equated to "Dominant", and Femme or Feminine as equated to "submissive", it's remarkably refreshing to see images of a no-doubt-about-it Femme fatale not in the roles of "Service top" to a man, but as an active Mistress in her own right, secure in her own oh so Femme skin.

Which happily brings us to the obvious. Many of these were portrayals of womyn playing with other womyn- unapologetically so. While such clearly had much to do with the inner fantasy life of the (male) clientele, the interactions still portrayed possibilities.

For Queers such as myself, who discovered Bettie during her 'cult following' resurgence, these were some of the few images of womyn training, controlling, and "correcting" one another we had available to us that provided a sense of ourselves as having a form of a pre-existing historical yet fully modern context.

"Coming to Power" was first published in 1981, but by and large any form of organized Leather was in many ways still a male domain. Straightforward images of womyn "doing THINGS" to one another along these lines while certainly practiced, had very little imagery as fodder for fantasy.

You can only imagine my happiness at having discovered images of Bettie on her knees 'in service' as a Lady's maid, or of her lovingly domineering a bound and gagged female victim.

While these may have been images created for men, certainly the Lady's maid imagery implies a fantasy relationship wherein for even just a snapshot, the world narrows down to just these two womyn, a shared intimate moment, and a smile.

These images were important, not only to me, to other kinky and Leather womyn as well. They were more than fantasy material.

For S/switch womyn they held double meaning, did we want to submit to her or feel powerful and beautiful like her when we are in control. Did we empathize with her as the bound beauty or did we long to be with, and a possess a womyn like Bettie ourselves?

These were images that related to how we envisioned structuring our relationships, not of an occasional hot date on a Saturday night.

They had to do with both womyn we dreamed of sharing our lives with and at the same time, our own self images as womyn of Leather.

Unfortunately, unlike the fantasy world of the images themselves, and the aspects of womyn's sexualities portrayed in them, Bettie's own life experiences beyond the lens had a very great deal of sadness to it.

Her "real world" actions and religiosity cast a dark cloud over the photographs which had been at the time so important to me.

In the late 50's she underwent a religious conversion experience that ultimately aligned her with the very people who sought to stamp out the very things she herself had participated in. This led to a self imposed closeting, and later life fraught with contradictions.

(For more detail on some of the following see Chapter 10 of "The Real Betty Page" by Richard Foster. The book is well, the book, but this particular chapter does give an account, with many of the names and dates being useful.)

On New Year's eve 1958, she attended a service of what has now become the Key West Baptist Temple (At the time it was the "Latin American Baptist Temple." The preacher that night was Morris, or M.O. Wright. He had gotten his start in the jesus business after killing a man in a fatal car wreck. He was sentenced to a year in jail. While there, he got religion, and got his start by preaching at cellmates. )

Having been born in Nashville, Tennessee in 1923, and lived in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, Betty found herself attracted to the interracial service.

Keep in mind this was America in 1958. The Civil Rights movement was in many ways in its early years. 1958 was after the Montgomery bus boycott and Little Rock, when President Eisenhower had called up the paratroopers to escort the nine black students to Central High, but well before the Freedom Riders, James Meredith, Medgar Evers, the Civil Rights Act of 1964, the Voting Rights Act, the King assassination, etc.

She went on to be described as having had a "born-again" experience when she returned to the church and participated in the altar call the following week. (Not terribly long thereafter, in 1959, the English speaking growing portion of the congregation under Wright would go on to break away from the pre-existing Cuban and Spanish speaking congregation.)

When Bettie arrived at the Latin American Baptist Temple that night it was after an argument with her then husband, Armond Walterson, one of many such arguments, that ultimately led to the end of her marriage.

A series of misfortunes had struck her in the year before, from enduring a back injury that had left her in a wheelchair for four months to financial woes that led to her being evicted from her New Jersey storage space, the owner selling all her possessions including her modeling portfolio.

In a very real sense, she had come to a place of her past being gone, and her marriage being in a very real sense over. That night as she walked down White Street, she was at a moment of openness and vulnerability.

Evangelists often prey upon those who have as they like to put it, "come to the end of themselves." And Bettie was no exception.

Though she didn't speak about her past, she was incorporated into the religious infrastructure just as many "trophy converts" are. Wright counts the infamous Betty Page among his converts.

She worked full time for the Billy Graham organization, and while at Multnomah, one of several bible school programs she was involved with, (BIOLA, the Bible Institute of Los Angles, Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, Multnomah School of the Bible, in Portland Oregon, and a christian retreat called "Bibletown" put on by the Boca Raton Community Church in Florida,) she volunteered at "The Louise Home" (a nonsectarian missionary proposition focused upon "unwed mothers".)

Also while at Multnomah she wanted to go to Africa as a missionary, but the Multnomah Mission board disqualified her for having divorced. She went on to briefly remarry her first husband, Billy Neal, which did lead to her being able to do missionary work, but that marriage was but one of her many that ended in divorce.

So why go into all this?

Well, I too have spent some long dark nights in Key West wandering down White Street towards the shore. Fortunately though, her story is most definitely not my story.

The Baptist Temple is out on Stock Island now, but it's still the local damnation awaits YOU "problem child."

They are, in short, the resident bat-shit homophobic church.

Wright can be counted onto make comments the likes of, for example, him having decided Key West's annual Halloween festival, Fantasy Fest, is "a revial of demonism and Babylonianism" and brings down the wrath of god upon Key West.

I'm not saying that Betty herself was anti-gay, merely that the preacher and church that she turned to based on her impression of its inclusiveness that was such an instrumental aspect of her conversion process, has gone on to be known for being anything but.

Betty did not talk about her former modeling career and the "naughty pictures" in her past, but clearly, if her newfound "friends" would reject her for having divorced, you can imagine what they would have thought of her had they known the full story at the time.

She embraced an identity that precluded her own history. Her quest for acceptance, while not invalidating her earlier life in any way, led to it being buried and lost to everyone except those few who perhaps having kept the pictures of the jet-haired beauty keeping memory itself alive.

A number of Bettie's later years were spent in mental hospitals under state supervision. She was finally released in 1992.

In one of the better summations of her life I've seen since her death, Peter Tupper on Beauty in Darkness: the history of BDSM described her as a "cipher," going on to explain:

"Maybe it's because she dropped out of public view before the sexual revolution really got going, and issues of sexual expression became politicized. She was an icon to a revolution that she didn't really participate in. A sex object without sexual politics, never a speaking subject."

(Although as I'll mention below Bettie herself came to be a key example of politicized sexual expression due to the Congressional hearings.)

In the end, I don't know whether or not she ever understood how much she meant to the men who hid and kept her pictures, let alone the Queer womyn who later saw in them important reflections of our sexuality, self images, and desires.

The sexual abuse and poverty she endured may have made it difficult for her to look back on parts of her modeling days.

But certainly in recent years, she has been celebrated and as new generations have found her, they too have seen in those early pictures images of beauty, or strength, of power, and a womyn not ashamed of either her actions and interactions with other womyn, nor of her body.

Klaw and thereby Bettie were subjects of the notorious Kefauver Hearings (of the United States Senate Subcommittee on Juvenile Delinquency.) She was called before Congress to explain the photographs but in the end was excused from testifying. Many of the negatives of the original prints were destroyed by court order.

Those that survived, survived by acts of both defiance and love.

They survived long enough for me to see myself, and the womyn I've loved in them. Long enough to provide a role model of sorts in today's kink community, that of a strong womyn of both whips and lace, a womyn whose otherwise invisible sexuality is outside of state sanction, and in relation to other womyn.

The images helped some of us see some of our desires reflected in an external culture, enacted by someone who despite her conversion experience did not feel regret over them

To quote Bettie herself, commenting on her pin-up career in a 1988 Playboy interview:

"I never thought it was shameful. I felt normal."

In feeling "normal" before the cameras, she helped some of us feel a bit more "normal" as well.

When I look at her bondage pictures now, I take them at face value, as what they were at the time. Beyond a girl earning a living, they represent a moment in time, when the " Leather community" had more to do with a bunch of gay fellas riding motorcycles who had been home from WWII for a few years.

Finding such images as close as a web search to those who lived in that climate, is an undeniable quantifiable change, (and in many ways, simply beyond comprehension.)

These were "dangerous" images that came close to being destroyed forever. Those who would if they could are still with us, many of them wearing crosses around their necks.

While remembering the history, I try to look past those whose bigotry nearly led to the destruction of these images and Bettie's own embrace of Wright, hiding her past lest she no longer be considered part of the fold, and instead, look to all that I first saw in those images.

So so long, and thanks for the memories.

Nothing can negate those.

(With special thanks to "It's just Jack"'s Bettie Page flickr photo collection and Queen of Pinups- Bettie Page)

BESS- "Shibari"

2008-10-18T04:35:00.021-04:00

So once again we decided to head out to the Wednesday night BESS educational meeting, this time focusing on "Shibari" (kinbaku or kinbaku-bi.)

Not surprisingly, the room was packed. Makes me wonder when this area is going to get around to some kind of mid-Altantic rope group, (though I certainly haven't the time to start one.)

As I've done before, I'll cut and paste the description, more for my own benefit and memory than any other reasons,.

Oct 15th, Shibari presented by Arthur-

Shibari is the Japanese art of stylized ritualistic bondage. Arthur will undertake to demonstrate and instruct the basic methods of limb bondage, torso bondage, hand and foot bondage and to integrate them all or portions of them into a coherent whole for a scene. During the demo he will discuss the history of Shibari here and in Japan and recommend books for further reading.

Arthur: Arthur is an experienced Dominant Top with many years in the lifestyle both in NYC and Baltimore. He has taught on numerous subjects and truly enjoys the interaction of the demo and the classroom. He lives with his girl, nina and daisy, their ginormus dog. He currently makes a living as an Alternative Haberdasher as the 3 of them run PowerXchange by nina, Baltimore's Alternative Clothing Store.

(Here's the link for powerXchange by Nina .)

All in all I think it was a pretty good 101 overview. As Sir put it, perhaps the most beneficial aspect of it was simply having the luxury of someone comfortable working with rope going through the ties step by step. While we've certainly seen such before, it never ceases to inspire.

I often have an easier time dealing with some of the spacial awareness aspects of rope than Sir, so as he said, simply watching Arthur was useful.

I also always enjoy watching a demo model with a great amount of flexibility undergo some of the more strenuous poses. Knowing that I am simply physically incapable of doing some of the stances, it's still interesting to watch those who can.

On the other hand, knowing the limitations of my body is also why I am interested in some of the more 'adaptive ropework' workshops. Kinbaku, when it is really 'successful' to my eye at least is deeply personal rather than formulaic. When ropes and body work together forming a coherent whole, (even, or perhaps especially when designed for discomfort,) is when I find the interplay most beautiful.

In any case, through the course of the evening Arthur explained a variety of ties and kept the rope moving.

I should also mention that last September was the first time we wandered into a BESS meeting, so we've been around the edges, attending the occasional meeting for slightly more than a year now.

We are not members and probably unlikely to become such as we value our GDI nature and honestly have little time.

It's an interesting mix, while there is definitely a Queer presence, it feels the way many geographically based groups do. It is likely a bit more familiar and comfortable for Sir in some ways than it is for me.

Then again, he might feel equally 'slightly out of place' at Queer centric Leather events.

Both Black Rose and BESS being some of the larger and somewhat public gateway groups in the general area, it's very much the cultural norm for what's semi local to us. While not exactly 'involved' in either, this will be our second year at a BR event and we've made it to at least a few BESS educational meetings over the past year.

It seemed important to note.

Late Summer/Early Autumn

2008-10-02T03:31:00.039-04:00

I know, it's been a long time since I've posted. This after saying I was hoping to post more frequently. Worse, I left off on part 1 of what was to be a 3 part piece. I'll get to the rest of Floating World eventually, just not right this instant.

Sir and I have been incredibly busy as of late. I keep wanting to carve out some time to write parts 2 and 3, but ultimately other things are going by that I haven't written about out of trying to 'sit down and take the time it takes' to do those FW posts justice.

So for the moment I'm setting those aside and getting on with it, until I find time to come back to them.

Despite our hectic schedule, we did manage to attend an interesting BESS educational meeting back in August. The presentation topic was "Contracts, Collars, and Relationships." It gave us much to contemplate. I always find it interesting to hear someone who has put serious thought into how they do things and why.

The aftermath of seeing a presentation like that for us, tends to result in important discussions about our own structure and the how and why we do things the way we do, as well as how to bring further intentionality to parts of our relationship. It's probably very good for Sir to spend some time listening to others as he has seen fewer of these kinds of presentations than I have.

It's been part of my process of learning what I want and more importantly, learning how to articulate such after I figure it out. Part of good negotiations with any partner or potential partner comes down to not only knowing what you want but having the skill to speak clearly about such.

Inventories, assessments, Household protocols, petitions, contracts and other such written or verbal tools can be useful steps in finding the direction you hope to head, and refining your ability to express it to others.

Anytime I find the opportunity to look over the materials and tools others use, I usually find that time well spent. (With a few notable exceptions.)

The other major piece of news is that we've made the decision to return for Black Rose XXI at the end of the month. Several factors led to the decision, most of which, perhaps surprisingly, have little to do with Black Rose as an organization itself.

Over the Floating World, we spent most of our time in workshops relating to relationship structuring and yes to some degree workshops aimed primarily at the Master/slave dynamic.

Master and slave are not terms, nor necessarily a subculture, that resonates directly for the two of us as a way to describe our relationship. I tend to find it particularly jarring, as M/s dynamics hold very distinct Queer meanings for me, and yet I find myself in a relationship with man. I understand how so called 'het' Leather cultures utilize such (not that we consider ourselves a 'het' relationship by any stretch). But the terminology will probably always primarily hold Queer Leather associations for me, personally. Terminology aside for the moment though, Sir and I are finding many of our areas of interest overlap significantly with M/s end of things, certainly as opposed to other descriptive terminology such as D/s.

I am Sir's property/possession. We live this out our own version of 24/7. Submission is one of many components of our relationship, but not necessarily the single most important defining characteristic. Another important aspect is that we've been at this for quite some time now, long enough to settle into a relatively stable structure with set ways certain things are done.

So many of our workshop choices over FW focused less on proper singletail technique for example, and more on how we structure our lives and relationship within a Leather context.

But an events' worth of workshops focusing on such, followed by the many conversations that come in the aftermath of such sessions, over meals, late at night, etc, can lead to coming off an event somewhat emotionally exhausted if you're not careful. Fortunately, pacing ourselves was precisely what we did.

The upside has been that coming off Floating World we've been putting some intentionality towards structuring parts of our Leather Household that were a bit less defined before. Some of those conversations have also led to some good 'work' time spent together as well. Times we both treasure.

But the other side of such was that, it that led to really two things; not seeing as many workshops as we might have liked to and not seeing as many directly 'dungeon related skills' related workshops (think things along the lines of the finer details of proper skin stapling technique) as we might have liked to.

Going to BR XXI then becomes a way to attend some more 'skills-based' kinds of workshops. As it's all in one building, attending workshops or not, together or separately is certainly easy, and the dungeon is also close at hand. (I appreciate FW's arrangements for its own reasons, just as I appreciate insular events like BR for their own, they're both very different.) Finally, and perhaps most importantly it's an opportunity to spend time with others in our local community.

While we both tend to focus on our own Household, I guess I've been feeling just a little bit more social as of late, and interested in connecting with others locally. Events like BR then become a way of putting one's toe in.

Floating World II, Part 1 (Thursday and Friday)

2008-08-24T00:56:00.000-04:00

We're back from Floating World a week now, and I'm only now settling back in enough to even begin to write about it all. We've been busy all week catching up with friends, going to meetings etc. I've spent some of this week reading what others have written about their experiences at the event. Naturally, I'm still feeling a bit 'spacey', not just from the event itself, but some of the things we did over the event, as well as some of the ways in which we're bringing parts of what we learned there and felt there home with us.

In many ways it was a really wonderful weekend for us, partially due to the event itself, and partially in that it was an important time for the two of us as well. Unlike many events where we have focused on gaining or practicing skills with tools, this ended up being a very relationship focused set of workshops for us. We didn't really make all that many of the presentation time slots offered as somewhere between eating, sleeping, and yes, fucking, we did a lot of talking and 'processing' some of what all we were seeing.

I'm not setting out to really go into great detail the about event in this as that would be a massive task, but also in that I think there are parts of the magick in the not knowing everything and every detail.

One small detail I should mention though, is that Sir doesn't always wear the token I gave him for our anniversary but through the course of the weekend, he made a point of keeping it on, reminding himself of who and what he was, and that meant a great deal to me. It's always significant to both of us when he wears the bracelet (despite him very definitely not being a jewelry person) and his steadfast not only wearing it, but enjoyment of it, meant a great deal to me.

It's been really amazing to watch him grow into who and what he is and gain confidence in such. I'm very proud of him, and this weekend, we felt very solid in many many ways. (Perhaps I'll write on that more later.)

Thursday

At home during the day, despite our best efforts we found ourselves amidst a packing ordeal and the gravity well that home sometimes can be. It took us much longer to get out than either of us intended. (While it was both of us, in this case I readily take the blame.) It was not the start we had hoped for.

We had made a point of getting in Thursday evening so we'd have a little time to settle in. In the end, we found ourselves in actuality getting in late Thursday due to ongoing road destruction, but then avoiding as best we can getting ensnared in road destruction appears to be another Floating World tradition of ours.

We settled into the host hotel (this year we had decided to stay at the main hotel), I unpacked, wiped the boots one last time and read a little before finally turning in. Even though we were both excited we both managed to get a good night's sleep before the event was really in full swing.

Friday

The next morning we got up and headed out for a good breakfast with lots of coffee before the first workshop at 2pm. The vendor's room was not open Friday so we focused on workshops and time together instead.

The first session was a presenter I had seen last year at Black Rose XX, but Sir hadn't so we went together so as to compare notes later. I think he got a bit more out of it than I, but that was fine. I took plenty of notes and found myself settling in. The topic at hand was moving from a BDSM centered relationship to a Master/slave based relationship.

I think for a lot of people they find a starting place and after a time come to one form or another of 'there must be more than this'-ism. The coming to plateaus and trying to find new ways of living it MORE or DEEPER is something I frequently find more of in the het leather community. (Although the session presenter himself was certainly not straight.)

This may be one place where being Queer Leather sort of made it a bit easier for many of us in that we have had role models living out forms of an M/s dynamic around us almost from wherever we started. Even the brief interludes in (mainly Gay) Leather bars and clubs I managed to occasionally be accepted in, being surrounded by and having as friends day to day living breathing examples of both Masters and slaves living out their respective roles was in some ways commonplace.

It's also worth noting that I'm glad to see Sir having an opportunity to hear more Queer voices in this. It helps him understand the culture I come from, and see in living practice some of the traditions and strengths of those who having already crossed certain thresholds at times find crossing some Leather thresholds as a 'second coming out' that much the easier for it. It is very easy for me to find presenters coming at it from some variation on a male/female dynamic, it is less easy to find spaces and events wherein Sir can intentionally expose himself to Queer Leather voices and traditions.

One of the things I've come to treasure most about the Floating World events is the cross pollination between communities, presenters, and perspectives. I consider it one of the event's core strengths. It is also part of what makes it one of the more comfortable events for me personally, in that in certain ways I end up difficult to categorize, and Leather spaces that enable such, to their very core definition, can be few and far between.

The second session ended up being my mistake. Not in that the presenter was a mistake, but in that I had intended to end up at the workshop that later went on to become the focus of some external attention. I was interested in attending not in that it's my particular kink, but in that I am interested in how we as a 'community' however loosely that may be defined are handling some of the broader cultural issues involved. (Those who know what I'm talking about know what I'm talking about, those who don't, well, so be it.)

Instead we ended up in a sensory deprivation workshop, which while pretty much review for us, was probably one of the few more dungeon practical workshops we made it to all weekend. Surprisingly, we attended very little by way of dungeon tools related sessions this year. By the end of the weekend I was feeling a little annoyed in that I do go to these events to learn skills and techniques as well as about structuring relationships and interpersonal dynamics and I was beginning to feel that lack of balance in what we were attending. This is one of the reasons we are now beginning to contemplating attending Black Rose this fall, no decision has been made on that front yet though.

Missing the intended presentation was likely a result of neither of us having spent time studying the schedule in depth in advance. I had looked over the workshops and presenters and I knew what all I hoped to see, but I had not had time to study the schedule itself in advance.

I'm still kind of kicking myself, but this is perhaps the primary 'problem' I have with the Floating World, there's simply too much good stuff going on all at once. There are easily sessions where I want to be in three or even four presentations at once. When in doubt, I try to choose things I haven't seen before, presenters I haven't seen before, and topics that I hope will stretch me or provide me with new perspectives to ponder.

The other psuedo 'problem' we also run into is scheduling meals. We tend to have those deep discussions over meals during events and utilize such as time to sort of compare reactions to what we've just seen. While we could just grab something simple on site, or nearby, we find we enjoy the event more when we actually take the time to step back, get a good meal, and 'process' at least some of the details between one set of several sessions and the next. So we sometimes find ourselves sacrificing presentations or presenters we want to see to fit that food, sleep, sex and processing around such (although be sure to note, those are definitely not in order of priority!). As the Floating World often doesn't particularly schedule a meal break, we make difficult choices as to what gets sacrificed, for this year anyway. With luck we may be able to catch similar next year or at another event elsewhere.

So we spent Friday evening over a nice dinner, talking about some of how, no we aren't people who do this at only events or on weekends or sometimes, this is our lives, yet at the same time we don't utilize some of the linguistic cues others who also live as Owners and property do. Nor do we utilize the constant ritual forms, although we certainly have our own daily rituals. Our protocols are often unwritten but there none-the-less. Our life together up to this point has made much of that very complicated in that with the travel and all, we often don't have the consistency others find helps structure their relationships.

It's possible that straightforward predictable 9-5 jobs are far more conducive to these forms of structured relationships than our lives. Not that what we live is in any way 'not ok' (I certainly wouldn't trade such) but in that it takes a certain flexibility and willingness to adapt as as schedules fluctuate. It can take a great deal of intent and focus to maintain not only the symbols and actions, but more importantly the headspace to live it out.

Now all these years in, we're beginning to quantify some of what it is we're doing and formalize parts of it that before now have perhaps not been as explicit precisely due to that schedule instability. Mainly though, we're both very aware of how in so many ways we are already living out so much despite the ever changing nature of our time together. This was to become an ongoing theme for us through parts of the weekend, that yes, we are doing certain things very successfully, though it may not always feel like such at the time. And those realizations also led to some very real confidence in what we're doing and how it works for us.

So we try to make time to talk about what we're seeing together, while also trying to pace ourselves so we can enjoy a fair amount of the weekend. By the end of the event, I sometimes feel I've missed a great deal, but neither of us are really up for going full bore, I don't think we'd get as much out of the events if we did.

Much as every time I turned around I saw another shuttle van (at the hotels at the venue, etc) we ended up taking our own vehicle back and forth if only in that it makes those trips out a little bit faster sometimes. That said, I think the shuttles are really fantastic, and had I been on my own a bit more over the weekend, I probably would have utilized them to get over to another workshop or two where Sir could have caught up with me later.

Later on Friday evening, we wandered the meet and greet just a little and I spent a little time at the Queer &LGBT meet-n-greet. There are still times and places I'm somewhat reserved in these spaces, particularly with people I don't know, but I did spend some time speaking with a very lovely couple, and there was appropriate oooooooooing and aaaaaaahing over some incredible tattoo work. In time though, I decided to head on out.

While Sir and I could have explored the Master/slave meet-n-greet, that isn't quite it either. It's not language we utilize, and not quite the way we structure our relationship, although we are finding that the M/s community is where we're most likely to find people discussing many of the issues and finer points that we end up on as well.

In the end, we went up to our room, fell into bed together and spent a little over an hour enjoying some rough sex. Sir pulled my hair and held me in place and took. It was exactly what I needed.

I don't know whether this was more a reflection of some of the conversations we had been having or more the feeling of freedom wherein in these times and spaces, being ourselves is perfectly natural. All I know is we felt close to one another and wanted each other and that at the time it was more important than anything else going on.

Later, we rushed through the shower and headed back for the final workshop session of the evening. Being late night people ourselves, the idea of a 10:30-midnight session was fine by us. I wish more events would begin to realize not everyone is all that interested at 9am sessions.

In any case, we decided on Lee Harrington's workshop on "alternative" relationship structures, and some of the language and concepts behind such. We had first seen Lee at the Ohio Leather Fest many years ago and really enjoyed the presentations. Being somewhat of a language wonk myself, I enjoyed this one as well.

One of the main points we came away from the session with, which was very much along the lines of our own thinking, is that whatever you are, however you identify, one of the important aspects of such is a form of intentionality about such. Be who you are, and know what you are, and how that lends itself to being able to better articulate what you are looking for and what your needs and wants are.

I also thought he did an excellent job of pulling apart jealousy and envy in poly relationships, and how a careful examination of the language used and why can lead to differing solutions. Saying what you really mean can help untangle some of those issues and get to the core of what it is you really need.

Afterwards we spent a little time in the massive dungeon space but decided to head back to the hotel to spend some time together instead.

Apparently I never got around to writing about it, but over last year's event, we had come back one evening and spent some time doing some beautiful and intense sensory deprivation training. It was a very important part of the event last year, to me at least, and was a memory I treasured from that first event.

This year, we came back to the room and Sir gave me another gift of an evening, hearkening back to that special memory. It was precisely the right way to begin the event, and by the time we both fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning, I think we were both very glad we had decided to make the trip.

Collars of leather and a 'collar' of metal

2008-08-13T03:17:00.002-04:00

Earlier this month, on the fifth, we celebrated our two year anniversary of Sir having placed his metal 'collar' of sorts on me. I've worn his titanium band about my right wrist for all but one afternoon of the last two years.

I've written about the band and its significance to us before, but looking back over my earlier writings here, I realize I've never written about Sir collaring me in the first place.

For some people a 'collaring' becomes a ritual, almost akin to a wedding, complete with a ceremony, and members of their community as witnesses, etc. For us, it was a very private act.

Before we had gotten together Sir had done a work related trip to San Francisco. Over the course of his time there he made a trip to Mr. S. where he purchased some tools, including cuffs and a simple leather collar. As he describes it, on the feeling that he might be needing them eventually. On that same trip he also explored other parts of the CA coastline that years later he would bring me back to.

Going to those places together, years after his trip, showing me those places special to him was very important for us. They were places he enjoyed and thought of sharing with a partner long before we came together. To finally go there with him, and see them through his eyes, was a way of getting to know him and draw closer to him.

He did not put the collar upon me the night he first whipped me, nor did he place it around my neck soon thereafter when he came out to me and we first disappeared into a hotel suite together.

It was later, after I had come home with him and stayed at his apartment for almost an unexpected month long visit. I spent my days being his, lying across his black leather couch reading books and wearing his cuffs, waiting for him to return, or dressing and going out for walks around a nearby lake. In the evenings sometimes we would go out, other times, we spent quiet evenings home, realizing slowly how well we fit together how comfortable it was being together. How we could share a small space together yet not be in one another's way.

In love and in gratitude, I did small things, making the bed, tidying the apartment, washing dishes, and most of all, learning the small ways in which I found myself his. It was a time of massive changes in both our lives, yet somehow we had found one another.

Near the end of the month, not long before I was to return to my home, an otherwise ordinary evening changed everything for us. We had decided to eat in, Sir had cooked, which was not unusual for him. As we sat down to dinner we ended up having a discussion that amounted to (to vastly oversimplify) essentially a variation on 'eat your veggies.' Particular veggies I was certainly no fan of, and had an unfortunate 'history' with in childhood, but by the end of the meal he had convinced me to reluctantly nibble.

Ordinary as such may seem, after dinner, I found myself crying, not in that he had done something I didn't want him to, but in that I realized he was at times better for me, than I was to myself. Writing it, I suppose it sounds silly, but I had come to the realization that he was very good for me.

Being Queer, finding such in Sir, particularly so soon after the relationship with my wife ended, was in many ways very confusing. At times it all felt too soon, even as it felt so right. I was very guarded, afraid of throwing myself into someone new as some form of coping mechanism to deal with my sorrow and my loss.

Yet that month together showed me that this was more than merely a matter of grasping at someone, it somehow genuinely worked, and was growing into a relationship in its own right even as I at times hesitated, and perhaps most of all, I came to understand how much Sir genuinely cared about me and my own well being.

In that time together I had come to call him Sir, even as he felt odd about it. He had never envisioned himself as a "Sir" and did not know what to make of me calling him such. I, on the other hand, recognized almost from the beginning what he was, and what he was in relation to me. Nor did we say "I love you" back then. It took a long time before we came to that point.

But that particular evening, after I came to realize that yes, he cared deeply for me and my wellfare was when we came through to collaring me. I would be leaving soon, and no doubt the impending separation had some to do with it, but we had come to the strange realization that somehow we 'worked' together.

I laid across the bed in his bedroom and he asked me if the collar was what I wanted, if I would choose to be his? I thought for a long minute. We were less than 2 1/2 months into the relationship, it was less than a year since I had been in my previous relationship, in some ways it all felt so soon, and yet, it felt right.

I looked him in the eye and gave my assent. He placed the stiff new leather collar, a simple black band with two D rings, one at the front, and the other at the back that fit through a notch made for it around my neck. He unlocked a small padlock, slid it through the back back ring, locking the collar firmly around my throat. I slept beside him that night with his collar around my neck.

It was between the two of us, a private thing. There was no explicit detailing of what all being his would entail, to this day I think we're both still learning. But it was an absolute commitment for both of us, and I've always felt honoured to wear his collar.

The lack of 'spelling it all out' has at times been difficult, particularly for me. But whatever the hardships have been along the way, I'm still his.

After ten years together, we came to a point where it was rare for him to place the now well worn and cared for leather collar around my neck.

It can also be awkward at times. Being S/switch, it can be difficult for me to clearly signal my orientation while wearing a collar. There are times when wearing such is fully appropriate, but others when it can create confusion, not for us, but for those unfamiliar with our dynamic.

So to mark those ten years, and by way of putting a 'more permanent' collar or sorts on me, over the final Ohio Leather Fest Sir happened across the appropriate token, the locking band of titanium I now wear about my wrist. Rings on tapering fingers are removed easily by comparison. The hinged bracelet must be unlocked to be removed. I consider it a stronger commitment than a wedding ring.

Now I've worn the metal band for two years. Sir holds the key. I have an 'emergencies only' key for my own safety for when he is not present. In all, I've worn forms of his collar for close to 12 years now.

On our last trip through San Francisco, we stopped by Mr. S. and found a slightly more elaborate leather collar with a locking hasp that eventually we will have occasion for. As of yet, it waits, still unworn, for that day.

As some of you have no doubt noticed by now I often find myself writing about anniversaries and how long Sir and I have been together. I often mark the passing of time, be it the seasons, or the dates that matter only to Sir and I. Likely, it has much to do with how new all of this still is to me. I've never been in a relationship that lasted a decade before.

I sometimes see workshop presenters bios in which they remark upon having been 'in the scene' for five years or such. I can't help but feel not only the length of time I've been at this (I sometimes feel like such a dinosaur!) but also the time that Sir and I have been at this together.

Don't get me wrong, I still 'buck' plenty, and doubt, and question, and feel downright exasperated at times with some of the lack of focus or definition, but I can't imagine my life without him, and without being his. I never take that light band of metal around my wrist for granted.

Marking the anniversaries is but one way of saying I'm still aware of how special, how amazing, and how new this all is to me.

Thank you, Sir.

So Slitherings is now 1

2008-07-22T01:36:00.000-04:00

Today is Slitherings' first blogiversary!

Yup, a whole year of sexblogging- who'd thunk? Not that I post all that often, just that it's been a year since I started on this little pet project.

So what's it all mean? Why do this?

Well, the short answer is living in a broader culture that still views so much of what I do as pathological, asserting one's own ability to self define and actually communicate with others who are likewise so often stigmatized holds value.

The ability to eeek out corners of space to assert that there is value to these aspects of my life, and actually let others see such in that process may just help them eeek out a little more space of their own to assert their own ability to be fully who they are.

I know through my time spent reading other bloggers that these acts of claiming space to speak our truths about our real lives can be a useful tool, helping others, often without even realizing they've done so. Other times we interact, bloggers and readers, and we learn from one another about the ways we each carve out our own ways of being.

Slitherings is one of many ways I claim just a little space to say that yes, womyn like me do exist. Relationships such as mine do exist.

These forms of womyn's sexuality, often so difficult to find first person voice about, most assuredly are alive and well, if you know where to look.

I recently stumbled across a quote that bears repeating,

“History that is not preserved is history that never happened.”

For that reason alone, I write.

So Happy Birthday little Slitherings, and thanks to the friends I've met along the way so far.

Most of all though, thanks to my Sir, who not only lives it all alongside me, but has also allowed me to divulge these details about him as well. I would not be able to tell my own story without exposing these aspects of both our lives, and so I'm grateful that he has been willing to set aside some of his own privacy, despite being otherwise a very private person, that I might speak these truths about my here and now.

While I at times grow shy and quiet when I find he's read these posts (quite out of character for me,) I think we both find important conversations sometimes come in the aftermath of such.

I do not view my writing here as any kind of present to my Sir, though. This blogging is more about my own process.

In the upcoming year, I'll see what I can do about posting here a bit more often.

'Til then, though spanking is definitely not my kink, I think I'm off to see about a Slitherings birthday swat.

After all, I can count to one.

It's about quality, not quantity- right?

Listening to one's body, and responsibility for safety

2008-07-15T16:03:00.000-04:00

So this morning in the pre-dawn Sir takes me.

"Now?"

"Now."

It's the first we've been together sexually since our recent trip. All the recent medical unpleasantness is finally behind us (it's been more a long stretched out annoyance in some ways than any one thing, per se.)

We've missed one another in that way, and we're both 'hungry' for it.

We're both absolutely mid, when he pauses ever so slightly to ask how the circulation in my feet (which happen to be straight up in the air at the time, cuffed to a strap that passes behind my neck, giving me something to both push against and relax into...) are and I lose that concentration. We were close, there was a certain focus, and then he paused to check on my safety, and I can't just pick back up again.

I blurt out something like,

"fine, fine, HARDER!"

But the moment is gone.

He, on the other hand doesn't realize anything has shifted, so we fuck, and I enjoy it, (don't underestimate that, in spite of it all) and he orgasms, and we go on.

Later, I explain to him, that while yes, it's one of those right things to do, positively textbook, actually, in circumstances like that, yes, even though I am very in the moment, I'd still alert him to a problem.

Naturally, we talk about kind of the usual nonverbal 'two squeezes or taps' (he taps, I tap back) but as he points out, whether verbal or nonverbal, either can form a stepping out of the moment. It's certainly something we have done, among other nonverbal signals, but ultimately, yes even when communicating nonverbally about such things, it does take a certain presence of mind that takes me at least out of wherever it was that I was.

That doesn't mean I didn't wander around all starry-eyed, and leaning against the furniture thereafter. But up until that point I was completely in that moment, and I was sad when he accidentally took me from it.

It's a "property-brain" thing far more than any physical effect.

When I'm fully in that mindset, I don't want 'real world things' pulling me back out of that moment. If anything, though it's hardly his fault, it feels almost like an annoyance, 'of course I'm watching that!' That's part of why I speak up when I'm 'submitting'. If my hand is going to sleep, it allows me to maintain if I bring the issue to him. If things pause while he checks or such, it can become impossible to regain.

As his, it's important that I honestly let him know what's going on, and that requires I be paying attention, and 'in my own body' enough to recognize what's going on. This does not mean, however that I don't go deep into what many call "bottomspace."

Odd thing is, rather than that responsibility pulling me 'back out', I've found ways to focus on such as a way of taking myself 'deeper'.

I don't know if other 'bottoms' articulate this often, but it is a particular skill.

Letting Sir know before my hand is cramped or asleep means an ability to work longer.

It can also have to do with not wanting damage to come to something that is his. Nerve damage etc would not only get in my own way of doing what he wants, it would also mean he would not be able to enjoy use of me in the same ways, whether that be just for a time, or more permanently.

So part of this being his, is in listening to my body.

Now, do I sometimes reach that place where I'm positively non-verbal? On a good day, with a tailwind- yes, I do.

But I don't rely only on words to bring something to Sir's attention.

If we're in sync enough, I can usually express such non-verbally, and if we're not in sync enough, that alone pretty much instantly pulls me back out to a place where words can come pretty quickly. But we've been together more than a decade, now.

It probably must sound pretty odd for me to be sitting here saying 'please, no don't stop to check!' but that's precisely where I find myself.

But it's by no means a universal, it's just a dynamic the two of us in relation to one another seem to have reached.

Roughly six months

2008-06-30T23:34:00.000-04:00

(I've been away from writing here for a bit. Some of it has been travel, some of it has been helping my Sir through some health issues. He is recovering and we can certainly see the proverbial 'light at the end of the tunnel' on it at this point, but it has taken time and attention away from as but one example, my blogging here. If I can find the words and the time, I may write a little about the experience but for now, simply understand that I have been away from this writing, but with good reasons.)

Today though, marks an important milestone. Today was roughly the 'six months after' demarcation from Sir having me pierced last winter.

Emotionally, I suppose you could say the last several months or so have certainly put us through a bit, but if anything, they have shown how committed we are to one another and how much I apparently do deserve the honour of wearing His rings. Circumstances seem to have bourne out how much this was the correct decision.

Physically, six months of course does not mean they are 'completely healed', but it does mean that most of the basic healing is behind us now.

Aesthetically, we both enjoy the look of them. It still startles me to see the metal through ME like this, though.

It's been a very odd six months for us. Mainly, it's clear how much 'us' forms the central core to everything else going on in our lives. The rings are a reflection of that.

It's a strange 'anniversary' of sorts, but it felt important to note.

Full Moon Debachery; a Why of Leathersex

2008-04-20T21:14:00.000-04:00

Today I'm sitting here typing in a serious afterglow. Still a bit flighty, and happily still sore, but with a sense of deep contentment; precisely the way I like feeling on 'mornings after.'

This entry, both long and perhaps a bit more explicit than what I've written here to date is such for good reason. It's going to take both some space and some detail to explain what it is I'm trying to express.

Our time together last night got initially pushed back a few hours due to other circumstances, but later on the evening we finally carved out some time to experiment with the new massage table (hmmmm, I think it needs a different name in relation to how we're mainly utilizing it, I'll have to work on that.)

It was the first time in a long time that we've had to just shut the world out and spend an evening working with the tools and being together, which is the important part for me, that connection. Sir listening for sounds, watching my breathing, gauging my reactions as together we go further and further.

All the while, as his counterpart, I am fully in the moment; sometimes looking up and seeing his reactions, or seeing THAT LOOK in his eyes, or when I'm blindfolded and can only hear him making preparations for what he will do to me, yet not knowing what will come next, being in that moment of anticipation.

Sex and even 'rough sex', sex about power and control and dominance and submission is one thing, working with the tools does something else. It's a physical ordeal that I have no choice but to give over to, it pulls me out of myself into a place where time becomes irrelevant. A place where I don't question or analyze, or pause in hesitation, or try to anticipate needs, I simply obey and am owned. I don't focus on being his, I simply AM his. In that clarity is a tremendous sense of freedom.

When I go through periods of not having those times together, no amount of sex can 'make up for it'. I crave being in those time suspended moments of clarity, anticipation, and inevitable sensation, yes even pain that only 'work' seems to give me.

But I also crave what such does for Sir, what those times do for him, his confidence, his control. Time spent together doing the 'work' is so important, that confidence and clarity spills over into other parts of our lives and our life together and provides a core where we both know what's what, and how it is between us. We both need that. We need to spend time there, as it gives everything else we do in relation to one another that foundation.

They are some of the times I feel closest to him. Without that connection, the so called 'play' can't work, no amount of pushing it, or trying to make it work can overcome it.

So late in the evening we came home, I showered and dressed and waited for him in our workspace. He came in to find me kneeling, dressed in the Catherine Coatney skirt and shirt (that he decided out at the beach that he loves on me.) I wore stockings and long gloves, my hair tucked away up in two small buns with a pair of Darklocks' Diva Falls in purple and black (called "Vertigo" for those of you interested in such details) cascading down over my shoulders.

These are new, fetishy fun goodies I picked up not long after the LF&P. They go well with all that wonderful black and shiny fetishware. As I eventually get to making the metallic purple latex dress I have in mind (and materials for) these should go a long way towards completing that look.

Naturally, Sir's response was more along the lines of a cross between being puzzled and thinking they were rather silly, but that's ok, they made him smile and I suppose that was part of what I had aimed for in the first place.

Soon enough he had me naked, lying face down on the massage table, blindfolded with the soft black leather blindfold I adore. He spent a few moments running ropes around under parts of the table, then attaching panic snaps so he would be able to change my position quickly. He pulled out the large padded black cuffs and buckled them onto my limbs, a process that always induces that 'sinking' feeling in me. I get quiet, and relax as best I can in light of what I know is coming soon thereafter.

In no time, he had me 'not going anywhere', firmly attached to the table, as if a canvas for him to 'paint' upon. First came the floggers, some soft and almost massage like, starting slowly, helping me breathe and relax, then ones with a bit more 'bite' reddening my skin, making me feel white hot searing pain up to the edge of seeing stars.

I find the whips loud in the otherwise quiet house. It seems to lead to a slight nervousness on my part, perhaps due to so many years of working in spaces with neighbors upstairs, etc. Despite the fact that Sir and I have a great deal of privacy, I sometimes find it difficult to fully relax, still being on edge that somehow someone will in some way will hear or interrupt. It's a relatively irrational fear, but one that at times makes it a little difficult for me to be fully present, fully relaxed. And that tightness in my muscles is always something I 'pay for' the next morning.

His aim was dead on. The table made a very comfortable height to work at, and allowed him to get in close to see the way I was reacting. He later told me that despite being blindfolded and face down, the sounds I was making and the slight movements of my body provided him lots of feedback. From time to time he would set the whip aside and run our 'empty rabbit' a rabbit skin across the deeply coloured areas he had just worked. The contrast between the two, the whips and the soft skin is immense. It's the slight variations that keep a flogging flowing, and keep me off balance.

At some point, he turned to the rattan canes, which so long as they're handled with timing and at times a gentle hand (alongside other times when they're NOT) I've come to love. His skilled hand uses them in many different ways; sometimes gently tapping, other times slowly increasing the intensity, and other times giving me strokes of pure fire that bloom and make me cry out.

I want to spend more time with the canes, slowly increasing my pain tolerance. In some ways I feel very out of practice at the moment.

Fortunately, as Sir was kind enough to point out, caning me gets him hard as well, so he released my hands, let me sit up slowly and he used my mouth a bit. By then I was well into that headspace that makes me both quiescent and obedient.

I've lost track of exactly how the evening unfolded, but at some point, perhaps prior to the canes he asked what I needed. I urged him towards doing some 'detail work', maybe some marks. Whenever it was, I was still blindfolded when I heard him working with something that made strange sounds I couldn't identify. The next thing I knew he was using the Chinese cupping set, with points on me. Having the cups on my just flogged back while being flogged on the ass is an acute awareness. My head couldn't get around it. It's just another of those sensations that can be used to bifurcate attention and set me out of my own control. Perplexing, but in a good way.

Afterwards he asked how I was doing and I told him I would need to change positions soon. Being the sadist he is, he had me lying on my freshly flogged backside. The result was a wonderful slowly burning anguish. So he worked over my front a bit, utilizing small clothespins, the snake bite 'suckers', and finally the vicious small round braided whip, everywhere on my breasts and thighs.

He held my head and slapped my face, first one side, then the other. He took me to that place where I get inarticulate, shuddering, and at that point where both 'stop' and 'don't stop' meld into one. It's a place where I prefer to simply be, and let him make decisions, anything else is just beyond my grasp.

So that was the point at which he decided to 'use' me. As he's getting ready, he turns to me and says "are you going to be blogging this?" and we both have a good hard laugh. (We later realized that for both of us, his comment related to Lolita's t-shirt we'd seen her in at events: "I'm blogging this." which is both brilliant, AND fits her and the writing she does at her site perfectly) At the time, though, blogging was about the furthest thing from my mind, it was something fully forgotten until he mentioned it.

Which is a good thing. I'm not experiencing these things with an 'eye towards' bragging about them online later, I'm experiencing them fully in the moment.

I come to write here after the fact, by way of recording our history, but also by way of journaling my own impressions and reasons and reactions to it. That may be of use to someone at some point, (it might even be of use for non-Leather people to gain some understanding of what Leathersex is about for me at least), but for me, the blogging is a very separate act from the living of it at the time. That is the action, this is the recording and analysis of the action, done after the fact, not in the moment of or at the time of the actions themselves.

Speculation about 'Slitherings' and how or even if what happened last night could end up here has become somewhat of an oddity for both of us. After all, sleeping with someone who sex-blogs is well, a bit different than not sleeping with a sex-blogger. Sir reads this, and we'll no doubt discuss what I've written here, which seems to lead on around the cycle to its own set of realizations, no doubt similar to how many Owners use journaling.

Sex-blogging aside, back to the sex;

He rearranged me down to the edge of the table, slid a strap around my ankles and then behind my neck, giving me something to push back against while keeping my legs up in the air, and he took me, roughly.

Blogging or not, I don't find words really work at this point.

It was just, well, that kind of sex I live for. My back and ass ached, both sore and pushed down against the table, giving me additional layer of pain that provided a backdrop to what was happening to me. Sir absolutely in that moment, both of us exactly where we wanted to be. That place where for him control and taking what he wants, that place where for me, it's both pain and simply having no other possibility other than giving him what he wants, and how much that gets me off, it's why we do this.

Afterwards, there's putting me to bed, leaving the cuffs on and putting the steel tool into me and him holding me, forcing me to orgasm, taking it from me. Leaving me completely incoherent and happy. So happy.

Lying in his arms, aftercare, exhaustion, and feeling so close to him, feeling so His.

That is what this is about for me.

It's what Leathersex is that even the roughest of ordinary sex isn't. It's about reaching that point where I have no choice other than to give myself over to him, while being fully aware he'll be there to catch me, to protect me, to do what's best for me when I don't have enough control of my faculties to even know what that might be. It ceases to be a giving, as that implies far too much control on my part, it simply is, I'm His, and he takes.

It's about trust and surrender and being fully both connected to and at times dependent upon the person I've chosen to entrust myself to.

***

This morning, I awoke to thunder; sore, aching, penetrated, marked, wrung out, used. Yet feeling so content, so languid, so where I want to be.

All of this, this is why I do these things. This is why I am with Sir.

Later, he examined and brushed his fingertips lightly across the lingering evidence of his work from the night before. Outside, rain pelted the windows. He held me, and kissed me.

I can't imagine being with a partner who is not Leather.

Travel and household notes

2008-04-14T14:52:00.000-04:00

It's been a bit since I last posted. I've been quite busy.

Sir and I are just back from three days out at the Shore, a micro vacation of sorts. Days of lazily enjoying the beach, nights of rather intense lovemaking. All in all, I've come home very relaxed and happy, that post good sex glow that seems to leave me floating through the day or days after.

We had originally intended to spend some time out at the beach working with some rope. Books to study and be inspired by and hemp were packed, all set. But we never quite got around to it. No doubt we'll find some time to 'practice' before Shibaricon, it's just these particular days had a different flavour to them- more spontaneous.

That said, several potentially rope related good things have finally come together here around the household. The first being some years ago we had purchased a cast iron bed frame with the original intent being that it would be for a bedroom area off a 'dungeon' sort of area. Well, that part of the house got 'commandeered' for other projects so to this day, we are rather 'dungeonless'. The bed frame sat, still in boxes for years, (in no small part probably due to the fact that the other beds around the house are four posters.)

Instead of waiting for everything to come together the way I wanted, I finally simply decided I'd rather have it up than in boxes, so the bed frame has now been added to a bed already in a spare bedroom. Why all the fuss? Tie points/anchor points. The bed frame is rock solid and a perfect 'canvas' to do rope work with.

While it may not be up in its final home, (wherever that will turn out to be,) it is a small step towards 'not waiting anymore'. That feels good.

The second potentially rope related bit of furniture has just arrived. After Floating World last year Sir and I sort of had an ongoing discussion about furniture, frames, structures, etc. As our primary work space is a bedroom, we've had to try to come to compromises about tools staying out, the advantages of things being close at hand, vs. tools being carefully stored in a very organized fashion for easy access. Structures have taken a bit of thought.

So for a first real piece of 'dungeon' related furniture, we've settled on a thermal and thickly padded top portable massage table. It folds away when we want it to, but quickly sets up and is wonderfully solid. We can lower it down to 24" if we choose, and it has plenty of good attachment points for rope or other such bonds.

Essentially, it will serve as a solid platform for everything from rope work to cuttings, canings to floggings. I often find I can take more lying down than standing bound to a frame. Lying down helps the muscles relax more, and it can be more comfortable for Sir as gravity does some of the work. Also lying down can protect against some forms of wrap (not that we seem to have a problem with such, I just thought I'd mention it for readers.)

So we have new bits of structure to try out. I'm excited to see what predicaments Sir's creativity puts me in.

In a final bit of news, we've registered for Floating World (II) in August. It's months away, but we're already looking forward to it!

TSA vs. Nipple Rings

2008-03-28T14:11:00.000-04:00

Wish I could find the words, but at the moment, I'm just pissed.

Over this, "Woman Says TSA Forced Piercings Removal", in particular.

(If you really want to go for that brain embolism level of realization that the people around you really are morons, take a moment to look through some of the comments on the article, there are many 'gems'; "GOOD for the TSA. I personally do not feel comfortable flying with the class of people who insert metal objects into their body....P.S. Tattooed people should not be allowed to fly either", or " aww my feeling were hurt - I’ll sue to feel better about being a fat ugly lesbian cow!!" or "Hamlin should’ve been beat with those pliars…".)

Clearly we're somewhere that simply gives permission for assholes to wear their scorn of people like me on their sleeves, be that a couple of TSA fucks in Texas or the assholes verbally vomiting all over comment threads.

This is theater, not anything genuinely relating to 'security'. It lets the 'authorities' in question humiliate her and rub her nose in their ability to pull this shit. (After all, who's gonna stop 'em?) At that particular moment she needs something from them- the ability to get to her flight on time. They have a particular form of power over her, and apparently enjoyed abusing such.

Meanwhile, from her perspective, she's just trying to catch the flight, and other than missing her flight/turning around and walking out, she doesn't have much by way of options.

Freedom of movement/freedom to travel is a fundamental right in many societies, a core human right. Here in the US, however, our legal history in regard to such is more convoluted and less protected. (The Wikipedia link above lays out some of the ongoing mess that is our lack of an articulated explicitly federal protection.)

But the effect of 'micro-scale incidents' such as this is more than merely legal, it's also social. While ultimately yes, she was able to get on the plane, this story is actually more of an intimidation effect. It causes other people to fall into inertia. Others who hear about it and understand that they too are a 'person not unlike her' may pre-emptively modify their own behavior in relation to 'regulated' forms of travel, thus decreasing their own movement out of fear or having been intimidated.

Think I'm going to be subjecting myself to a 'pat down' on my labia rings and clit hood ring? Think again.

Plenty of folks are already pointing out, everything from pacemakers, hip replacements and even the copper in IUDs are also "hidden" metal. Is TSA going to start demanding people take those out to fly?

If thousands of people can go through every single day with wedding rings, there's no earthly reason why body piercings should not be treated in a somewhat similar fashion, unless of course, you happen to be a TSA jerk-off who ENJOYS pulling such shit.

Sure, in some alternate universe of unlimited time and money, she says fuck you very much, walks out rents a car or uses her own and spends the next however many days driving to wherever it was she needs to be. That's a nice scenario, but realistically, that's not the way this goes.

Instead, she goes through whatever the hell she has to to get where she needs to be. Why? Because the bottom line is most of the time, people's choices are more limited than you might imagine, so they suck it up and suffer through.

That said, kudos to Mandi Hamlin for having the 'pair' to sue their sorry asses. I hope she takes 'em to the cleaners.

More to the point, I hope her case sets the precedent that lays out (more) sane 'guidelines' going forward. (Yeah, not holding my breath on that one- clearly there are plenty of Americans who would rather piss their pants over a nipple ring than take the moment to realize that a nipple ring is not a weapon.)

The key piece of the TSA's crappy guidelines on body piercings is the word "hidden". There's nothing "hidden" about nipple rings that she offered to show a female screener. Body jewelry shown to a screener in private should be treated no differently than earings or a wedding ring shown to a TSA screener.

Now, being pissed is quaint, but it doesn't change much, so here's the get off your butt, (or stay on your butt, in your pjs, and put that keyboard to good use) ACTION portion of the blog entry-

For those dear readers interested in giving the TSA a piece of their mind here's their contact page. I'd also recommend contacting;

* your representatives (here's a house form and a senate form)

* the major airlines (particularly any you've enrolled in frequent flyer programs with etc, be sure to mention such when contacting them.) Be specific- point out how much business the TSA bullshit is causing them to lose- not that they have control over the TSA, but make it clear that this nit-picking (or tit-picking) bullshit on the TSA's part is causing them to lose your business.

* and whatever media you feel might be willing to run a letter to the editor or similar such

I know, overly optimistic. Perhaps even delusional to try.

Still, this is perhaps THE quintessential example of how America is down to going out of its collective mind over tiny pieces of wire while the things that genuinely matter can't get above the noise. Micro managing the nonsensical while Rome burns, perhaps?

But then, I guess government micromanagement down to the level of going after the nipple jewelry of the socially transgressive makes for a lovely distraction from tackling difficult and 'unpleasant' realities like the sub-prime crash.

Addendum- this link contains a snippet of video from the press conference, and the article contains mentions of some of the other instances of TSA v piercings.

When there are no words

2008-03-13T09:09:00.000-04:00

Last Tuesday evening. I'm ready for bed but Sir is still quite awake. I ask him to tuck me in.

Sir surprises me.

We're trying to be a bit more intentional about some of our small rituals, trying to take time out of our all too often busy lives to make time for the building of habits and small gestures that in many ways reinforce the 'us'.

For many in the Leather community such come perfectly naturally.

When I am the Dominant partner in a relationship, for example, I live sleep eat breathe rituals; everything from morning coffee rituals to how my girl enters a room, or dresses. I suppose you could say I'm highly demanding when it comes to protocols.

Yet when I find myself on the other end of the power dynamic, well, I often end up feeling somewhat adrift. Unfortunately, particularly with Sir, as clear articulations and demands upon me are often in short supply.

In our relationship I am "property" to him, yet we have few protocols.

There are many counterbalances, though, that do help me find my way. Sex with him is one of those many ways I find clarity in my position.

Thus, the simple act of tucking me into bed, every so often, at unexpected times, like Tuesday night, sometimes escalates into good hard sex. And thereafter, even though the words may not come, I do know my place and feel secure in it.

I suspect many womyn who are slaves to, or bottom to (or whatever in relation to) particular men find their Dom/Owner/Sir's lack of articulation of expectation difficult from time to time. Perhaps it's a bit more acute for me, in that I have at times both been on the 'other end' as both 'owner' of a sort, and as an at times Dominant woman's beloved.

The particular womyn I've chosen to partner with have tended to have at least some ability to spell out many of their needs. With the men in my life, Sir included, their wants and needs at times seem to fall off the edge of language, or perhaps they simply don't feel the need to use language to express them.

Either way, me being a person for whom clarity in communication is important, I sometimes find that lack of articulation deeply frustrating.

Yes, there are inarticulate about such things, (desires and details) womyn Dommes, and perfectly articulate male Doms. But that is not quite the way that has played out for me with my Sir.

So finding those times when it's somewhere other than words, but things are perfectly clear between us is very important, in that that clarity is rarely spelled out in detail between us.

In day to day life, both of us fully understand what this is and how we relate to one another, coupled with the fact that this is my life (and his), I'm not going anywhere. But finding the clarity in expression of those things at times is subtle, it's in a look, a touch, and the pulling of my hair, not necessarily words.

Thus times, such as Tuesday night, become quite precious to me.

Spring LF&P, artisans and community

2008-03-10T01:36:00.000-04:00

So yesterday was the Crucible's Spring Leather Flea and Play (LF&P,) affectionately referred to as "elephant pee". (Yes, you can go back and see what I blogged about last Autumn's LF&P too.)

I had originally thought we might attend and take a friend with us, then head out to dinner, but he decided he wasn't going to make it. At that point we hemmed and hawed and eventually came to the conclusion we'd decide whether or not to attend based on how our day went.

Naturally getting up and out on Saturday took longer than expected, and travel through DC was just as screwed up as it tends to be these days, but we did get to watch one hell of a storm front coming in. Fortunately, we reached the Crucible before the afternoon rains.

We entered and wandered about a bit. The vendors seemed pretty much the same as last fall. I wasn't finding much by way of tools that interested me. I know there are still a few real artisans doing whip work, but finding them rarely seems as simple as wandering a flea.

I remember when you might see a whip maker at an event not with piles of already produced whips ready for same day sale, but instead the artist would bring out some examples of their best work. You could go and talk with them, examine their work, and if you had the money (which of course I never did) you could decide on the details of how you would like your custom whip or floggers to be carefully braided; what kinds of hides (here, feel this, this is elk. I get these from a hunter tanner friend of mine, I've only got 3 of them, but if you want, I can custom dye this to match your Leathers), how full a mop, the braid on the handle, whether or not you wanted it shot loaded, etc. Most importantly, they would see how you hold a tool, how you use it, where the balance point on the handle was unique to your hand. Then you paid sometimes upfront, sometimes a portion upfront, and within a month or two you arranged to meet and the final result was finally in your hands. These were special- and you treated them as such.

There's probably a blog post in here somewhere about how whip making went from something individuals either learned or turned to their local tack shop for, on through to a few artists around the country, on towards 'manufacturers' and mass marketing and sort of 'brand name' floggers, on into quantity, not necessarily quality floggers. Carpal Tunnel has taken many a whip maker out of such, and there almost seems to be a few year 'workspan' or 'career' for many whip makers.

Those who sometimes do the best work, do only a few, but as such are sometimes very expensive. To actually find floggers not only custom made, but balanced to your particular hand is wonderful, but becoming ever more rare, particularly when whips are so often bought sight unseen, over the net. In any case, there are whips made by certain artisans, many of which no longer do that work, but the pieces live on, and get passed along, provided they aren't destroyed by devout relatives upon an owner's death.

We are fortunate enough to have a set of floggers custom made to Sir's hand, beautiful tools, but our friend no longer braids and while they are special, such are also becoming increasingly rare. The set he had made had never been used on anyone, and when we first came together as a couple he honoured me by using his whips on me. It meant a very great deal to me, and to this day, they still do.

In any case, yes you can find basic, simply braided pieces at fleas. To some extent you can also find some interesting pieces done in small batches by a leatherworker. But while you may be able to custom order pieces from vendors there, seeking out specialists who make custom pieces unique to you, to your hand can often be a bit more complicated. It can mean traveling to them, or seeking them out word of mouth in communities, rather than webpages. Some already have more work than you'd expect just by word of mouth. And longevity in braiding usually means pacing projects as to avoid injury.

As I said though, those who braid don't do so forever. If you find an artist whose work you love, it is often better to get what you can while you can, before injury or time constraints, family obligations or other aspects of 'real life' lead them to stop. Given a choice between a quality handmade flogger and almost any piece of mass market gear, I'd chose the whip.

But I digress. So this Spring, unlike last Autumn, surprisingly, we stumbled into a sort of 'friend of the family', one of Sir's exs. She had not seen him in quite some time, and when he walked over and said hello to her, she did a very amusing double take. Sir in his Leather jacket, dressed in black, hair pulled back neatly, wearing the wide black belt I gave him. It took her a moment to realize it was really him.

Other than one or two of the vendors we recognized from 'back in the day', she was the only person 'from our time' we saw at the Flea. In the end, we agreed to meet after the Flea for dinner. She was with a friend and intended to return for the 'Play' portion of the evening, we on the other hand intended to head home.

So we split up, and I wandered the booths. In the end, I settled upon a Catherine Coatney shirt that would go well with two of my skirts. Otherwise, I was remarkably bored. We looked the booths over twice, to be sure we weren't missing anything, perhaps that one unique little item perhaps we overlooked our first trip around, but no. No such luck. It's odd to be surrounded by fetish-y, BDSM-y goodness and yet not able to find anything that I quite felt need to come home with us. Admittedly that 'best sex toy' is between the ears, but I seem to be going through kind of an odd period, one wherein I find myself surrounded by tools and uninspired by such.

I still seem to 'quest' for the original, the inspired, the careful handcrafted, the unique, but as of late, I never seem to quite find it, whatever 'it' might be.

But part of the Flea is just to see what all is afoot, to wander and be among others who share one's proclivities, and yes sometimes even happen across someone else who remembers another time, and so off to dinner the four of us went. A marvelous dinner, actually. Good to be with an old friend and meet a new one, and all over an excellent meal.

We laughed, and caught up on one another's lives and even spoke of where the folks from back in the day have disappeared to? Her conclusion, from a somewhat different vantage point, is essentially the same as mine- a version of 'underground'.

Commercialization down to the organizational level, the 'net', and attempts at learning skills via Google searches, all have changed the ground out from under us. Lots of us still do what we do, just not publicly, and not in party settings. Many of us have found our partners (and no, by such I'm not saying 'paired', I'm saying people we do this with, some our life partners, some part time lovers, some 'thirds' and some in various cities scattered,) have our few friends we can talk about these things with, and from time to time perhaps attend an 'event', often far from home. 'Scale' has changed.

And we've all seen a lot of really stupid behaviour from people who should know better, it's driven so many of us into more private settings.

Sad in a sense, but it is the picture many of us are beginning to see.

On the importance of 'just being there'

2008-03-01T13:54:00.000-05:00

This may seem a very pedestrian topic for a kink-blog entry, but sometimes it's the little things that are so often overlooked that matter so.

If I were asked for a list of 'duties' I perform, tasks or chores pertinent to my status as "property" I'd have to sit you down and explain at length how it's more complicated than that.

While I am in some ways submissive (and other ways, NOT), you would hardly mistake me for a 'service submissive'. That's just not the way we structure our (Leather) household. There are chores I tend to gravitate towards, and other chores Sir for the most part has staked out as what he does. There are also ongoing bits of the household that sometimes I do, sometimes he does, it's more dependent upon who happens to get sick of looking at it, and has the spare time to do something about it first.

I know, I know! Heresy! Unimaginable!

To dare even mention that Sir does household chores too? Why I must have broken at least 30 'the-one-true-way Leather Taboos!' (tm)

But our real Leather lives, unlike pulp novels or oh so many online MASTER-slavelings, are real. We live them, 24-7. And that means we deal with real world real things. What often goes unstated, is that in relation to the 'chores' each of us take on, the other does feel a sense of gratitude. Sometimes we express such, but usually, it lies just beneath the surface, each of us quietly aware that the things the other does for us help us, and make our lives as we live them together not merely easier, but in certain bedrock kinds of ways, possible. While not an egalitarian household, at times, it does share certain resemblances to a Leather 'partnership' of sorts. It's what works for us.

That said, I do make a point of making 'Sir's' bed.

Now that must sound odd. But as we sometimes run opposite schedules to one another, I am allowed my own rooms in addition to the primary bedroom we share. Recently, no matter what our sleep schedules may be, I've made a point of ensuring that when Sir comes up to bed, it's a neatly made bed.

That may sound perfectly obvious, and the kind of habit some people got in back when they were oh, say, 5, but for the two of us, living on our own as we do together, we tend to simply get up and hit the ground running and then tumble into bed at night.

If the downstairs is the at times more 'public' part of the household, the upstairs is more a private sanctuary. I suppose we're quite Victorian in that sense. The parlour is a place where our household intersects with the external world, the upstairs bedrooms are private spaces.

So I make the bed.

It was the first piece of furniture we bought together for the house, a big four poster King sized bed, (an updated) comfy mattress, and padding and sheets we picked out together, as a couple, when we were just beginning. We brought the bed home and assembled it ourselves. Some couples buy couches together first, we selected and assembled the bed.

And when we're home, not traveling, I tend to carve out the laundry as a part of my ongoing routine. Just as womyn for generations before me have cared for, mended, and laundered their beloved's clothing, I too, try to ensure, as one presenter at the Floating World last Autumn used as an example, when my Sir goes to reach for an item of clothing, it should 'just be there'.

What marks us as different, perhaps, is that when we do travel, (which is to say frequently,) while I may sort the piles, Sir himself tends to run the laundry. Sometimes I fold, sometimes we fold together.

But the laundry is simply part of the rhythm of that which needs to be attended to. Sometimes the ongoing 'chores' are less 'choreful' and simply part of that which must be done. At times, it's even possible to gain a certain satisfaction, or feeling that things are 'running well' based upon the ongoing rhythm of ensuring things are 'there when you reach for them'. I find it leads to more of a household sense of well-being, confidence, and yes, even control.

When things pile up and feel overwhelming, it lends itself to a things being 'out of control' sensation. Conversely, when things are simply where they're supposed to be, whether it's laundry or dishes, or mail sorted and filed it leads to a certain ease, comfort and sensation of things being 'under control'.

From that 'under control' springs a certain confidence in both of us.

Which yes, leads me back around full circle to sex-blogging. In that one of the very few 'duties' I perform, tasks or chores pertinent to my status as "property" is that of being sexually available to my Sir.

That when he reaches for me, I too am at hand, exactly where I should be. Physically, psychologically, etc.

(While yes, there is absolutely, a blog entry -or 20- in what being self described "property" means in my context, that being a Radical Feminist context, American legal context, etc, that's not about to happen today.)

At any time, I feel I could say "no" or "not right now", but in practice I next to never do (other than sometimes, when I'm still mostly asleep, and not thinking very clearly at the time.) Having the ability to say "no" (which is actually more a 'raincheck' than a "no",) that freedom to say "no", is part of what makes it secure and a confident "yes".

That may not be the way some Leather lovers arrange their relationships, but again, this is what works for us. We're both reasonably aware that when it comes down to it, I pretty much only say "no" in relation to extenuating, usually physical, circumstances.

In part, how we define some of my "duties" in this relationship are to be His, anytime, with the one caveat that communication of any extenuating circumstance is an inherent to such.

So last night, he both enjoyed me, and a well made bed.

This morning, I smile to myself with the satisfaction that things are 'running well'.

***

(Now, have I just equated sex to housework? Perhaps... if you really feel you MUST take it that way, but what I'm really referring to is the satisfaction of behind the scenes work, -yes at times good, hard work with one's hands with very quantifiable results- that goes into making parts of life feel 'effortless' and how such for us at least, tends to lead to the sense of well being and 'control' which can be at times so vital to our Leather/BDSM lives. It's a topic I see very little written about, particularly in your average 'how to Leather' books, yet it has everything to do with how we live this out 24-7.)

On purely subjective delineations

2008-02-15T04:21:00.000-05:00

Been meaning to write here for a couple of days now, since Tuesday actually.

Monday night was very special for us.

I've been being very careful with my fresh piercings, giving them the ongoing cleaning attention, but not unnecessary attention (i.e. fiddling with them, which would only increase the odds of infection.) And generally taking time to heal.

Which is not to say I'm completely healed by any means, just that I've been being careful and taking good care of myself. While I know new piercings can have their ups and downs, these have gone incredibly well so far.

Yes, I know I haven't even really written the REAL post about getting pierced yet. I suppose I'll get there eventually.

In any case, Monday night the rational part of my brain was saying that so long as we went gently (and used a condom and water based lube) and stopped or eased up if I was experiencing any pain, then sex should be alright by now, my body was 'feeling up to it'. On the other hand, the less than rational part of my brain was inevitably screaming "SEX! NOW!"

So late Monday night, we fell into bed together.

Naturally, Sir was also being cautious and careful, but I was not merely 'doing fine', I was well, discovering what sex with rings through my labia felt like. (As, was he.)

At times, it felt the way sex without rings feels like. But then at other times, I was AWARE. Not in a bad or painful way at all, just in a 'very paying attention to my body' kind of way.

I've no idea whether it was the addition of the new hardware, the feeling of being so completely His, or 'merely' the intervening roughly month and a half without penetrative sex with a partner, whether it was any one of the above, or a combination of several that led to me cumming so quickly. All I know is that afterwards I felt very happy.

And very close to him in ways I hadn't before we had the rings placed through me.

Sure, that part is all subjective and psychological on my part. No argument there. But if part of the reason to do such is the psychological changes that occur, well I consider that valid reason enough.

Non-kinky people may not feel they understand that. But if they've ever constructed a purely subjective delineation betwixt sex inside or external to marriage they've probably felt something similar.

As has often been said, the strongest of the sex organs is the one between your two ears.

Winter Fetish Fair Fleamarket XXX

2008-01-14T19:28:00.000-05:00

So the Flea is over, and we've headed on.

It had its moments, both good and well, to be perfectly frank, rather pathetic.

In the positive column; , stumbling across an old friend, spending a few brief minutes in the bullwhip lounge, interesting discussions between Sir and I sparked by workshops we went to, silk, flax, and hemp ropes, a new singletail, and even some new leather, (for later, that I've not earned yet), and a major 'plus', Providence, Rhode Island and the hotels, convention center, etc.

A good hotel experience can go a long way towards serving as a bulwark against not such good parts of an event. Providence itself was also a real win, and doubly so in light of the Fetish Fair Flea's previous experiences in Massachusetts.

By way of a middle column, somewhere between positives and negatives, or more accurately as a mix of both, we were fortunate enough to be able to attend all three of Midori's workshops; "Asian Rituals for Western Lovers", "Bondage Outside the Box", and "Make 'em Blush, Make 'em Squirm: Erotic Humiliation Play". All three were useful in terms of some of the conversations Sir and I ended up having, both good and bad.

But part of the real 'mixed bag'-ness of the three workshops was the 'massive herd' mentality that led to long lines to get in, tons of people, and naturally, the settings the workshops were in provided very few seats that actually afforded full views of what was going on. Thus, most audience members heard the presentations but could not see much of what was happening. Such could have been avoided in several ways, but for each of the three workshops, the same scenario played out.

In the negative column; certain aspects of some of the presentations, Some of the ways 'pros' were just woven through the event (in not so good ways), poorly woven whip handles, and I suppose my personal 'low' award for the event- a presenter who couldn't be bothered to show up on time for her own workshop due to... broken nails and an emergency quest for a manicurist. This from a woman whose website says, and I quote "don't waste my time", perhaps she might consider taking her own advice. (I've no qualms about naming names, as the workshop and presenter was publicly available on the FFF XXX website- "Mistress LunaSea")

Now I've seen everything. Suffice it to say, we felt no need to 'bottom' to her by waiting around to see whether or not she'd show up- so in the end I've no idea whether any form of the workshop managed to go forward or not, if it did, it went forward late and without us.

No presenter should ever need be tracked down by the event organizers AFTER the time their workshop was due to start, only to be reminded they had a workshop. D'oh. No, I wasn't impressed.

Sir and I also intentionally wandered into the 101 style "BDSM for beginners" for a number of reasons, not the least of which being trying to understand the 'intake path' many of today's newcomers are experiencing. (By way of readily admitting my own biases here, I've taught 101 workshops in the past.) I may or may not eventually get to writing about such, but for the time being, simply consider this another tidbit we both felt best deserved the negative column- and unfortunately the ramifications of such will continue to echo forward. More so still, in that this particular presentation has been an entry point for people in many times and places.

If I sound cynical and somewhat jaded, it's only because in some ways, I most certainly am.

On the other hand, as we somehow almost always seem to, Sir and I still managed to make some very high quality "us" time, which makes even broken nail absurdity somehow not only bearable, but something I'm just able to dismiss as the pathetic current state of affairs in some corners of 'The Scene'.

While I'm still glad I went, I am not sure I'd feel the need to return in the near future. That may be more a reflection of where Sir and I stand, though. The workshops we attended in many ways felt very 'beginner', and most of what was available at the market itself were things, and often dealers that in our travels we had seen over and over. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but for us, either visiting the brick and mortar stores when possible, or using online ordering takes care of most of what we would want from such.

Fortunately, though, there was the happy exception or two. I spend time at marketplaces like this looking for the unique, the unusual, and the custom. Radiance Bound for example was doing some lovely metallic work, very appropriate to formal Leather occasions, and some of Madame Butterfly's handmade silk rope came home with us.

The final thing to note about the FFF is that for 'outsiders' (those from out of New England for example), there is no main dungeon or 'play party' as part of the event, so what goes on, usually happens via pre-existing loose networks of friends or NE Leather organizations in private spaces. Without an 'in', you'll have to resort to a private evening in your own hotel room.

While this was absolutely fine for Sir and I (and yes, had we wanted to attend a party, that could have been arranged, we were not interested in such, this time, anyway) other people may find the 'barriers to entry' a bit high. It would be better to get to know people and build ties to organizations prior to the event if gaining an invitation to a party is important to you.

*** Addendum- there was an article Sunday in the Providence Journal- "Sex-Toy Trade Show Sports a Global Face".

I'm not altogether sure quite what I make of the article's angle, the 'sex toy biz'/"trade show", but apparently that was how the Journal understood the event. Clearly, they missed the fact that while the shopping is a major part of the event, what with being in the name and all, the real action had little to do with vendors. Most participants spent time in workshops or in hotel rooms practicing said newly acquired skills.

To simplify the flea down to a story about the American vs. Chinese sex toy industry and label the event a 'trade show' was just, well bizarro-world, though it certainly says a great deal about how 'outsiders' sometimes see us or comprehend us.

Rings!

2008-01-03T03:09:00.000-05:00

So I'm VERY happily wearing new rings in new piercings at the moment.

Sir's rings, holes in relation to Sir. Over a decade in the timing.

I am deeply honoured.

(No folks, this is not the real post about the piercings, it's more of just a placeholder until I get there, but friends wanted to know.)

Inner labia, not my outer, thanks to my anatomy- but all things considered, it's a good thing- less pain, shorter healing time, the jewelry I wanted, far less likely to migrate and lose the piercings, all good reasons.

I now wear two twelve gauge 3/8" implant grade surgical steel captive bead rings.

Yes, it was painful- very painful.

But the experience itself was more than even I had hoped for. I'm incredibly glad I did it where I did with who I did it with- it made all the difference. (I'll get there in the real post.)

Most importantly though, when it was all over, and we were home, and Sir was tucking me into bed, he said the thing I had been waiting to hear-

"I felt like I was very much a part of it, like a participant in it."

Which was not only very important to me, it also reflected the way I felt about him having been there with me- this was about US, and fortunately, that was exactly the way it worked out, very US.

It was the coming to fruition of a lot of things we have both been working towards for a very long time now. When we finally came to it, everything just 'came together'. Thing is, I can't decide whether it was worth the wait, or something we should have done years ago. Either way, the actually doing of it, I wouldn't have done differently. It was in the end, simply right.

Thank you Sir!

Wuzzle!

Piercings

2007-12-29T14:33:00.002-05:00

In less than 48 hours, if all goes according to plan, I'll be wearing two new rings through me. And yes, I can barely contain the slightly nervous excitement.

This has been a long time coming, more than a decade, in fact.

Until now every 'modification' I've done to my body has been in relation to me, myself. I have a previous piercing, done over the Stonewall 25 celebration in New York at the National Leather Conference, by Gauntlet New York. And that is a story unto itself. I had both done very specifically for me, and purely about me.

For a number of years, even as Sir and I were first getting together, I wore a Red Tiger's Eye bead in my pierce, and that stone was in relation to Herself. But on Sir and my first trip to San Francisco, all those years ago, the stone was given to the Pacific near the Golden Gate Bridge (in part because I had no way to return it to her at the time.)

But I'm a little ahead of myself. In San Francisco, we went to Gauntlet (SF), and had the old ring and stone taken out and replaced by a new ring with a Fire Opal captive bead- (an 'engagement ring' of sorts, though I didn't realize it at the time,) from my Sir, which I wear to this day. Then we drove up above the Golden Gate, released the tiger's eye to the Pacific, and it was then that he proposed to me. Now, going on 11 years later, we are not married, we're both deeply conflicted about the institution as such, but for us, the commitment to one another, and desire to be together was what mattered far more than whether or not a ritual was forthcoming.

So the Fire Opal ring, in my clit hood piercing holds a lot of meaning to me. That hood piercing has held symbols or tokens from two of what are arguably three of the most important people in my life. But the hole itself was about me, and was done at a particular moment in my own life.

I've never had holes put through me in relation to another person, and now that's about to change.

These two new holes and rings, will be specifically about Sir. Symbolizing his ownership and control as we move into our second decade together. For the first time in my life I chose to wear these in relation to my partner. For both of us, this is a very large step.

We've been talking about piercings and rings for more than a decade. I even have a previous set of jewelry from ten years ago, that's been sitting. I don't know if those particular rings will ever be worn or not, but our intent has been there for a long time.

I suppose you could say we had a lot of work to do before we could finally get to this point.

If all goes according to plan, these two will be the first of ten through my outer labia. Getting to all ten will take some years. We may space the piercings out even further as each pair of piercings is going to mean some 'down time' an immediate period without that form of sex, and a longer time meaning no baths! (Argh!) Healing each is going to take many months, and then of course, we're going to want some time to enjoy before we start the next pair.

So Monday marks the beginning of a long process.

On one hand I can't wait, on the other, I'm nervous, and needle phobic and no fan of pain without some real warm up first, but this is what it's going to take, and I want Sir's rings. So I'll do what I must.

After my 'Stonewall piercing' my dear friend took me out, along with a hoard of other Leatherfolk to South Street Seaport to find and share some 'flights' of excellent ports. After a rowdy and dreamy evening, we were swept along home in a taxi, across the Brooklyn Bridge under a beautiful moon, off to a brownstone in Park Slope. Getting up three flights of stairs have never felt so amazing in my life.

I know Monday I will be 'flying' too. Sir will care for me, and let me soar all the way home as we leave on our road trip not long after the appointment. All I need to do is sit quietly in the front seat, and let Sir take me home. His.

Seeing Herself

2007-12-23T18:44:00.001-05:00

To begin with, it's sometimes funny what I consider 'personal'. I can write a post about being flogged, but when it comes to writing this, I pause. Perhaps in part because she'll be reading it, but also in that, well, in some ways, it's personal.

But this is blogging my little leather life, or so I claim, and to avoid writing this would be, well, a rather serious "sin" of omission, in no small part because it is what is a very serious part of my 'now', and in part because it's also part of my Leather 'then' as well.

I'm not going to attempt to write any version of the story of us here, at least not now. Suffice it to say, Herself (which sometimes should be more aptly written herself), is what I'll use here to refer to the womyn who was, for a time, my wife. A time that came to a close almost as soon as it began. Not by my decision, but by hers.

We've been apart for over 11 years now, and for all but the last few months, been completely out of contact. Which is its own long story that, no, I'm not going to write here either. She knows, and I know, and that's what matters here.

So we have been back in contact for less than a year now, almost entirely via e-mail, with one phone call, on her Birthday. It was the first time I had heard her voice in well, forever; lifetimes, relationships, marriages.

Clearly, we each have our own 'nows'. I, to my own surprise, have been steadfastly with Sir, and she has had her own relationships and entanglements and disentanglements with both people and the State in relation to such. I've left my beloved midwest to return to the general area near where she and I spent our years together. She on the other hand has left her beloved here to return to a place that she in some ways feels is not hers. Over time, though, my here, or more specifically Sir's here, has become such a part of me that this is my home now. He chose this place and I agreed to come to him.

So now, all these many years later, she has pined for a specific Yule gift from me- the ability to see me once again.

There is of course, much more to it than simply she and I coming to our own end. There was another person, and much pain, and much unnecessary pain, and interference that kept us from even being able to communicate, much less draw things to any kind of civilized close at the time. All of which, of course, is my far too polite way of saying bad things happened, bad things far beyond the control of the two of us. Not that she (or realy either of us) is some form of innocent party in the course of all of this, just in that many things happened that had nothing to do with anything either of us would have wanted or had any control over.

So she has asked to see me.

Naturally, this had lead to a great deal of introspection on my part.

There is the person she once was, and there is the person she is now, and there is everything in between. And there is the person I once was, the person I am now, and everything in between. Mainly though, there is time in between, and more than a decade, much of which was spent not knowing if she was alive or dead.

More than my wife, I placed my collar around her lovely neck, and called her my own.

My obligations to her, to that, did not end at the edge of our time together. A collar is a lifelong commitment for me.

So I have chewed upon this request of hers for some time now. Sir and I have spoken, and pondered, and worked through and through and through this. Oddly, it turns out he may be more comfortable with such than I am.

In the end, despite everything, or perhaps due to everything, I have come out to 'yes, but on my own terms'. That is all I can give.

Our Fetish Flea trip will, at one point take us near her, and come January, for one afternoon, she and I will finally come face to face, a culmination of so much. More than words can begin, really.

I suppose you can see now why I couldn't not at least give this its due. This is my now. And seeing her will be, well, no, not blogworthy, simply a significant, (hell, momentous) occasion, to me anyway.

I walk into this not knowing what I will do. We may cry, laugh, be awkward with one another, prattle on unceasingly, scream at each other, come around to some strange version of restoring the friendship that was there so long before we even came together, or walk out, perhaps never to see one another again. I don't know.

All I know is that in this, I can't deny her her request.

And that is all tangled in with Leather ideas of responsibility, and loyalty, and honour, along with deep sadness, betrayal, and even still smouldering anger.

Mostly, though, I've missed her.

And I'm so damn glad she's not dead.

Caning

2007-12-19T22:30:00.000-05:00

So last night.

Which actually began somewhat earlier on, as Sir slid His leather collar around my neck and locked it. This was followed by several hours of running about doing the things I ordinarily do in the course of any ordinary day.

Yes, we COULD have spent the evening decorating the Yule tree. Instead, we decided to fit in some "us" time, as the next few weeks are going to be very hectic, and we should steal away what little pockets of unhurried time we can when we can. If nothing else, "us" time is a very healthy way of mitigating holiday related stresses.

So early (for us, anyway) in the evening we headed upstairs. Not long thereafter he had me secured across the bed in a happy mesh of tools that amount to sort of human 'tinker toy' sprawl; long leather bondage 'mittens' that come up almost to my elbows locked on with shiny little chrome locks, ankle cuffs, leather tethers, spreader bars artfully placed, and a handful of caribineers and clips. Suffice it to say, by the end of his arranging, I wasn't going anywhere.

Once I was little more than a useful target, he selected a few of his favourite whips and 'had at' me. (Herein I'm afraid some of the details blur a bit, but happily so.) I do however, clearly remember the sharp cutting sting of the horsehair, and the jarring THUDs of the big black Moose flogger. Fortunately, there was little I could do other than 'take it', and enjoy it immensely.

Eventually, he set the floggers aside and I encouraged him to fetch a particular slapper/crop as marks were what he seemed intent upon, and that particular tool provides a great amount of precision and control. This led to its own fun (but regrettably, no marks the following day.)

But then, in a fit of being wildly unpredictable, his hand settled upon one of the bamboo canes. This was new. He's used artificial canes on me before, delrin, and lexan, but some of the pieces I've been picking up recently, rattan and bamboo, no, he hadn't used those on me before.

(Sure I've had bamboo and rattan close at hand for quite some time now, but recently I've been picking up some more, flexible rattan canes, and a lovely little whisk of birch, which I thank my lucky stars hadn't been soaked the half hour before, last night.)

So he let me see what I was in for, the bamboo, and I yelped, honestly, completely innocently

"But, ... those are for GIRLS!...

Oh, wait...!"

(The space between the two broken sentences was the time it took for me to come to my own frightening realization; 'I'M A GIRL! Eeeek!')

Honestly, I didn't see the connection- until of course, I did.

Ah, the many joys of being a S/switch and picking up toys for some later use, only to eep! find them used upon me when I expect it least.

Sir is nothing if not devious.

So this resulted in me being released, bent over the edge of the bed, and playing human target as Sir got the feel of new tools. (Lest anyone worry, Sir has damn good aim, and had certainly picked these up before using them upon me.) At the time, the pain was exactly the pain of a good 'first time out with a new tool' caning, the sensation so unique to caning; a sharpness, then the moments of feeling the blow moving deep under the skin, and then the pain 'blooming' slowly after each stroke.

None of the strokes were so hard as to actually leave a mark that lasted through 'til this morning, but I certainly had that tender/bruised feeling long after. Caning provides a certain sense of clarity, and being fully in the moment that few other tools give. Timing is everything, and giving each stroke the time it takes to develop and for me to process it creates a rhythm.

Eventually, we agreed to end with three solid strokes, which expanded quite happily into five.

Now for some people, these kinds of activities form a sort of foreplay, which leads into sex. For other people, doing such may be the point in and of itself, and therefore sex becomes irrelevant to such altogether.

Sometimes we find ourselves fitting under that latter category wherein the work is the work and sex just is extraneous to what we're doing. Usually, though, Sir and I do what we do, and extend that power and control and pain and ownership into our sex at some point in the course of what we're doing.

So while still very much in the state of mind I was in, Sir rubbed my (sadly more temporary than I would have liked) red marks and that lead into hard rough sex.

Later he tucked me into bed, got out some of the shall we say, more 'internal' tools (cold stainless steel to be specific), and spent a bit of time touching me before he finally left me to drift off to sleep.

I suppose this last bit is important to note in that there is a very real possibility that there will be some new piercings in the very near future, and obviously, fresh piercings require a certain gentleness that (happily) last night lacked.

This time of year for most ""visions of sugar plums dance(d) in their heads." For me? Well, I suppose you could say I'm dreaming of a pierced Yuletide.

No S/switches allowed

2007-12-17T20:53:00.000-05:00

(I'll probably do several BRXX posts, this is one of them)

'Flashback' to Snoopy from Peanuts, confronted with a 'no dogs allowed' sign.

Yeah, like that.

Or the archetypal boys clubhouse with the 'no girls allowed' sign posted on the side.

Yeah, like that.

There are days when I'm just so sick of this shit.

No, I'm not going to be able to say all I'd like to, because much of what goes on in spaces like BRXX, even things like the schedule or who presented what are tucked behind the wall of the members area. (See the public schedule and list of presenters. This is all you got unless you registered.) But I'm going to speak somewhat generally about what I've had enough of.

In the workshops, one segment was geared towards "submissives", and another towards "switches" (apparently dominants didn't get a space of their own on the schedule.)

In the end, I attended neither of them, partially out of being told I wasn't welcome at one, but primarily out of disgust.

(I'm at a difficulty here, as I cannot quote the program/descriptions in full, to give full context. I don't like that, but basically, by the nature of the event itself, they've made it unnecessarily difficult to write what really needs to be said here. Most events at least post a list of workshop descriptions and who will be presenting them publicly, with BRXX it was all behind the wall of paid registration. Even the dungeon rules were behind the wall of registration, which made making the decision about whether or not to even attend in the first place tricky, as you don't know what exactly you're agreeing to until after you've registered. Certainly made me raise eyebrows at their notions of 'consent'. In essence, you don't know exactly what it is you're agreeing to be bound to until AFTER you've registered.)

The S/switches roundtable was listed as discussing various issues regarding switching and "misconceptions" about switches.

The submissives roundtable on the other hand was explicitly labeled as only for those who identify as "slave, sub, or bottom only"..."Sorry no tops or switches allowed".

So let's review-

* No space set aside for Dominants

* A space dealing with the topic of switching, more a discussion about switching and dealing with misconceptions about it, open to anyone far as I could tell.

* And finally (paraphrasing here) a "submissives only" kind of space, for an internal dialog amongst those who identify as purely that end of the 'spectrum'.

This is somewhat problematic from where I sit for lots of reasons.

Among other things, it means that someone who uses the word "submissive" to self identify EVEN IF THEY DECIDED THEY WERE SUBMISSIVE LAST WEEK/EVEN IF THEY HAVE NO EXPERIENCE IN THE REAL WORLD WHATSOEVER is allowed into the sub room, even as someone like me, who has spent the past 11 years in service, collared, living our version of 24-7, and wearing a locked on 'permanent' 'collar' of sorts about my wrist for the last year and half or so can't.

In my day to day existence I self-identify most clearly as Sir's property. But apparently my 'contaminating' S/switch influence would somehow infect their submissive "safe space". Yeah, this is a problem.

This is a problem in that in much of Queer Leather culture, anyway, Sirs and Masters usually began as slaves. One usually didn't tend to spring forth fully formed, a MASTER with whip in hand, at least not if one hoped to be recognized as such by a broader community. Nope, you began in service. Learning skills, being mentored, earning your leathers, and eventually in time with the support of those around you, and with community recognition of where one was headed, you transitioned into a position at the other end of the spectrum. At least, that was the (Queer) Leather community I once knew.

So any notion of a 'safe space' set apart from any tinge of dominance- brought in either by "tops" (to use their word) or "switches" is laughable from where I sit- or at least (possibly) an extremely heterocentrist view of things.

Both of which are made all the more ironic in light of the fact that person/'presenter' running the submissives' roundtable is not het identified and has made a living off being labeled/self labeling as "Old Guard". (A term in and of itself blog worthy.) One might think that this presenter would be uniquely qualified to undermine such assumptions about everyone in a room of 'slaves' would intrinsically evermore REMAIN on the 'slave' end of things, but no. Apparently not.

Saddest part of all this? By hanging the 'no switches allowed!' sign out, they turn away a wealth of experience and to put it bluntly insight. Yes, at times some insights born of having experience both ends of the whip, which leads to it's own understandings and explorations of empathy. But also the experiences and insights of those who have lived as 'slave, sub or bottom'.

And to be sure, I can't have been the only S/switch too discouraged and disgusted to even set foot in the place. That said, how prey tell, did they intend to ensure their 'pure zone' in the first place? I mean, what, asking everyone walking in the door 'you're not a ~SWITCH!~ are you?' DNA tests? Some kink equivalent of Kinsey scales to be filled out while connected to polygraphs? The mind boggles.

The main thing I walk away from this particular incident with a feeling of sadness. Sadness that the voices of those who have 'been there' and might actually have meaningful, perhaps even useful things to say are once again shut out out of prejudice. Our years of experiences are once again swept aside out of fear that a S/switch might somehow damage the intended 'purity' of a space. And that's everyone's loss. It's a community loss.

I wrote about that community loss back here, saying

"Thus I find myself talking with two sets of friends- would be mentors bemoan their lack of ability to find someone to pass on their skills, history, traditions and knowledge to, and those young in Leather, bemoaning their inability to find voices of experience."

Prejudice, specifically in this instance against S/switches is (one example of) exactly the kind of thing keeping these two sets of people apart. And I know we as a (much broader) 'community' could do better.

On a more personal note, the other side effect of what I carry away from this whole experience? The presenter running the submissives' space was one of the swaying reasons I had decided to go to BRXX in the first place, I wanted a chance to hear said presenter speak.

Worse, due to scheduling, the submissives' roundtable, (yes, something I was actually looking forward to- until I saw I was being told get the hell out) was going to be the only chance during the weekend to actually see anything they were presenting.

Now, on the back end of it, I feel no need to go out of my way to see this particular presenter at all. At some point, if it's convenient to me, at an event I'm already at, I may sit in- somewhere I'm allowed, if only to see firsthand what the hell went this wrong.

I slept in instead of going to the switch's segment. They weren't going to be gathering a mob with pitchforks and torches, ready to storm the castle (i.e. the 'submissives only space,) and educating ME about the misconceptions about S/switches ain't exactly the problem here. (Although the presenter for the submissives' roundtable probably belonged there more than they'll ever know.)

And I wasn't allowed in the submissives' roundtable, so that was that.

I went to a good 'how to' sort of workshop instead.

As a self identified Radical Feminist, can I understand the value in 'womyn only spaces' and similar? Yes. The feminist community went through its own, yet different version of this in terms of Lesbian only spaces and the 'contaminating influences' of heterosexual womyn.

The difference here is that some S/switches do live in their day to day as submissives, slaves, and bottoms, whereas heterosexual womyn don't in their day to day lives live as those who sleep with womyn- although some of us Bisexual Womyn do. Bisexuals like S/switches go through precisely this kind of being ostracised. Being both Bi and Switch, I can't help but feel like I've been here before.

I've fought these battles before. And damn it, while we get to learn over and over and over from everyone else's mistakes, those fucking us over never seem to learn. As I said, I'm sick of it.

Unfortunately, this can't be confined to just 'oh it was one presenter'. This was systemic in terms of Black Rose allowing the creation of such a space within its event. Glancing over the other workshops, this barring of people, even people who often identify as the very group the workshop was about stands out as rather unique. (Yes, ageplay- adults acting as "littles"- spaces often bar other adults entering without a "little" with them, but the adults in this senario are not people who sometimes self identify as "littles".)

I can understand asking Dominants not to attend, (or perhaps not participate in) a discussion by submissives for submissives about submission (although in watching they could potentially learn a great deal). But to tell S/switches, many of whom live our day to day lives primarily on the submissive end of things to 'get out and stay out' is just, well, bullshit. And Black Rose OKed that.

Had I been able to go, I would not have been there to discuss 'profound observations from the handle end of the whip'- those would have been off topic and out of place, it was simply neither the time nor the place for such. As a sometimes workshop moderator myself I can understand how easy it can be for someone to sidetrack a discussion, but rather than barring us premptively as a class, instead give us the chance, and then if there's a problem deal with individual behaviour (hint, this is where moderators MODERATE! Facilitators FACILITATE, and get back on track), don't deal with such by excluding a class of people.

Had I been allowed in, I would have been there to discuss the things submissives discuss. Believe it or not, just because I'm a S/swtich that doesn't mean I'm incapable of staying on topic.

And I sure as hell would not have been there to 'scope out the subs' for later hunting purposes. Although if that was the moderator's fear, barring S/switches isn't going to do a thing about the other 'sub/slave/bottoms' in the room who decide later that they're more interested in being the Dominant/Master/Top. In short people's identity often changes through time, and no amount of prejudice against people who self identify with a certain label is going to 'protect' anyone from someone else who once sat next to them in a workshop coming back at some later date with a different self identity or a different set of realizations about their identity or experiences under the belt.

So I guess you could say part of my Black Rose XX experience was in being told in no uncertain terms, from the organizational level down that I was unwelcome in one of the very spaces I was particularly interested in going to. I don't think most other attendees had that experience.

The sad things is it's ultimately a community loss.

I'm not saying this was my primary experience of the event, just that it was an important one, and one that left an impression.

I hope other people running events in the future will keep such in mind in their own planning.

Aftermath and Winter Fetish Flea

2007-12-07T01:06:00.000-05:00

(Yeah, I know, folks want my post BRXX post or posts. I'll get there! Really, I will!)

So we're back home after BRXX, suitcases partially unpacked. Most of the tools put away. I can't believe it's almost been a week already. Midweek Sir and I were interested in going to the BESS meet and greet followed by the educational meeting, which was going to be a panel entitled "A view from the Top", but both were canceled due to the first real snow of the year. Disappointed, but hopefully, they'll reschedule.

It's only been a few days, but my shoulder has mostly healed, just three small raised red lines remain. I always feel an odd disappointment as marks fade. Sir is already contemplating scalpels for 'next times'. I like scalpels, but I also like sharp ordinary knives. They're very different effects on both the skin and the mind. Mainly, I'm just amused he's happily contemplating again/more.

So, even before BRXX, we'd been thinking about heading up to Rhode Island for the Winter Fetish Flea. Now that they no longer have to deal with some of the Mass. stupidity, it should make for a more reasonable event.

Crazy as it sounds, I've never made any of the Boston area Fetish Fleas. Never once, in all these years- despite the fannish overlaps, despite friends going for years, despite friends in Boston, I'd just never made it. Sir has tended in the past to make dismissive comments along the lines of 'Boston, in the dead of Winter?!?'. But of course, he's done New England in Winter multiple times, and knows snow is by no means the end of the world.

We intentionally put off making a final decision until after BRXX. It made hotels a bit more complicated, but in the end we got what we wanted, and have reservations set to go. Several workshops look interesting, and Midori is going to be teaching several classes. (I'm also peeking at the rest of the schedule for her New England trip, and skritching my head thoughtfully. Maybe we could work in more than just the Flea.)

Getting up to that neck of the woods, also comes with another possible ulterior motive, potentially seeing someone dear to me, although that part remains undecided for the moment. That's its own story, though. I also have some family I'd like to try to overlap schedules with if possible, kind of a more relaxed post holidaze get together.

So that's the deal, home from one event, blog posts as of yet unwritten, and we're already lining up the next. No this wasn't sparked by having some kind of fantastic time at BRXX, it was just something we had both talked about doing for a long time now, and this year made sense.

As if that wasn't enough, we're also wondering about maybe a short Yuletide trip back to the midwest before the end of the month to see family. I don't know whether that's a very real possibility or not at the moment, but if so, it would mean approximately two weeks, followed by trip, followed by another couple of weeks followed by the next trip- with family both in the midwest and here squeezed in between.

But we've sort of another possible reason to get out to the midwest too, which could involve a particular piercer... .

In case it's not obvious, things may be hectic right now, but they're also going pretty darn well.

Just a quickee update from BRXX

2007-12-02T17:47:00.000-05:00

Well, there's the event itself, and then there's Sir and I and the time we're spending together. Eventually I may write about some of it (and I might even back up and write a post about the other amazing evening I alluded to here earlier.)

But for the moment, it's Sunday, the last of the workshops have ended, and all that's left is the final dungeon and party. We decided to stay the extra night, so we're still here. The event is slowly winding down, and at midnight, we'll all disappear off to our rooms to eek out whatever we can before checking out tomorrow, leaving what's left to the staff and volunteers to load and finish.

As with every event, major THANK YOUs go out to those who work so hard to make it all possible.

For us, it's mostly been a good weekend, ideas to chew on, and a real milestone; Sir cut me with a knife last night for the first time. It's not only the first time he's cut me, it's the first time he's cut anyone. My right shoulder hurts in the most wonderful of ways, and I'm wearing his marks.

In that alone, I am so happy.

(And in such a headspace!) I'm deeply honoured.

So for that alone, I'll always remember BR XX. Important things happened between us here.

Perhaps I'll try to take a stab at writing the real post later, after we're home.

Leaving for BRXX today

2007-11-29T12:44:00.000-05:00

So for what it's worth, we're off to Black Rose XX this evening. The packing is MOSTLY under control. I was up far too late last night trying to decide what of all the tools I didn't need to pack. Yes, we've reached the odd point of not what to pack, but of what not to pack.

Personally, I'm convinced that once we're at the hotel and settled in I'll somehow have an absolute need for something I left, that usual ONE THING I didn't know I needed, until I did. Maybe someday I'll get this down to some form of exact science, in the mean time, I'm just trying to figure out the best way to keep everything together, organized, and safe.

Oh, and how to keep crinoline from wrinkling to death. These are the life skills they never taught us in home ec, how to keep fetishwear looking fresh in an overstuffed suitcase... .

We're still at home, but already I've seen a few things that really have me wondering as to how much of this we're actually going to be able to enjoy. At this moment, I'd say we're tottering on some edge between 'deeply conflicted' and 'tell me again why we're doing this?'

But that was part of the point, to see what it looks like over there, complete with all BR's history, underlying assumptions, and 'inside the beltway-ness'. But then, me? I've never really gotten my head around the primarily 'het' end of this. Not that BR specifically is, it just seems to so often end up primarily that way.

Not in that the people themselves always identify as het, but in that history and visibility-wise that's the impression left. While there will be leather and Queers, it's not Leather, for lack of a better way of putting it (with the history and social protocols that entails,) and BR 'queerness' sometimes seems to come down to 'bi-sexual when my owner wants'- almost universally on womyn's profiles. Bi as activity not as identity.

Worse, people tend to mistake Sir and I for a 'het' couple, which annoys me. We're always more complicated than first glance impressions, but many people never get beyond such. Then again, those (who dismiss at first glance based on assumptions) may be the very people I would ultimately find myself least interested in spending time with, as well.

So it's an 'adventure'. BR is its own thing, and part of the reason we decided to go in the first place was to see exactly that.

To the extent I can I'm trying to maintain both an openness to the experience itself and willingness to take fun where I find it. Who knows, I may find myself in the midst of a better time than I anticipate. It is always possible that we'll run across some really interesting people and have a lot to talk about.

I'm actually trying to be somewhat social (despite my hide under a rock tendencies.) I'm interested in meeting other womyn at the event. Naturally, they appear to have only set one night for the womyn's only dungeon, and of course, it's relatively early on in the event, and the womyn's meet-up of sorts is the following day. Completely backwards. That would be an event scheduling pet peeve of mine, it's a structural problem. In any case, some folks will be around at the meet and mingle tonight, so we're aiming to be in for that.

Some of it will no doubt annoy the hell out of me, but if nothing else, the National Gallery of Art is nearby, there are plenty of good restaurants, and there's nothing stopping us from going up to our room, closing the door and enjoying some 'us' time.

Last night

2007-11-27T12:52:00.000-05:00

Unreal.

I~love~Sir.

Our anniversary

2007-11-25T20:59:00.000-05:00

So as of this weekend, Sir and I have been together 11 years.

That's an accomplishment.

Not just 'together', but having done things like traveling together, overland for months at a time, over and over again, and no, not killed one another. If anything, we travel well together. We spend much more time together than most couples, and yet, it really works. Even I marvel at it sometimes. Most of the time, though, we're so in the midst of living it that we don't stop and think about it.

We came together at a 'play' party that was being held over the course of a sci-fi con 11 years ago. Although that particular weekend, I have the feeling we were both pretty much there for the party far more the con itself.

I'd known him before that, as a friend. Well, even that's somewhat complicated to explain, I suppose the simple version is we have an 'ex' in common. He was her partner for a time, and she was a dear friend of mine I had slept with. They had come to an end by the time he and I finally got together. But she was an important part of that evening that we got together. It was due to their previous relationship and her having spoken to me about their time together that I felt I could trust him.

Ironically, about the last thing I was looking for that particular evening was any kind of ongoing relationship, let alone life partner, certainly not a Sir. But of course, at the time, he didn't identify as a Sir, and that's part of what made everything possible.

In any case, our coming together is a long complicated saga unto itself, and not what I'm trying to write this evening.

What I did want to write about was Saturday morning. In the wee hours, before the sun came up, and just before the moon was full, I gave Sir a token of sorts.

As he has placed a titanium bracelet around my right wrist as a sort of 'collar' that can always be worn I wanted to give him a symbol of his ownership as well. No, not as a form of reciprocity, or as an always worn item, just as a tangible token from me to him.

This weekend does not mark the anniversary of the collar, but it marks the anniversary of our coming together, the beginning of our relationship, and it was that that I wanted to celebrate. The symbolism of the collar goes to the very core of our relationship, my submission to him and trust in him was where we began.

Deciding on precisely what tangible token would be most appropriate was somewhat difficult. Sir is not a jewelry person.

He appreciates the band I wear on many levels, one of which being its "machined" quality and the nearly seamless visual it presents to first glance. It is solid, and hinged, its locking mechanism appears as nothing more than a small black dot on the side. The cuff is smooth, and brushed metal, and 'heavy', (in as much as titanium is, anyway.)

The more I thought about it, was the more I realized that his 'not a jewelry person'-ness was part of what made a bracelet of his own (for his left wrist, naturally) the correct choice, in that he would only wear it sometimes. After searching, I found what I was looking for, a carefully milled brushed titanium piece that in some ways is a matching 'opposite' to the one I wear.

The piece I found for him is openwork, and a series of articulated links, it has a perfectly integrated clasp, easily undone. His is slightly more narrow than the symbol I wear, making it seem lighter, but still very masculine.

If what I wear could be mistaken for a piece of modern brushed metal jewelry, his could could be mistaken for a fancy watchband, sans watch of course.

So there, in the waxing moonlight, almost coming to fullness, I presented him with my small gift. Naturally, he understood it, what it meant, its importance, immediately. And perhaps a bit surprisingly, he actually liked it.

So I wear his band, at his will. I don't cognize the piece of metal about my wrist "mine". I may 'slip' and refer to the two as "mine" and his for clarity's sake, but ultimately, I view them both as his. I certainly wouldn't call the band he wears "mine" or as in any way marking him as mine. It is more a symbol of the fact that I am grateful for the honour of wearing his collar every day of my life. I take none of this for granted.

This past decade has been some of the best years of my life.

We are not married, and to be honest we are both deeply conflicted over the idea of marriage, (despite the fact that we have come to a place where it is being seriously considered) but his collar means more to me than perhaps a wedding ring would.

A wedding ring, for us, would in many ways be about State recognition of our pre-existing. The collar (which for daily purposes I wear on my right wrist) is a huge portion of that pre-existing. It is an integral part of our relationship, and thing without which I am unsure whether our relationship would be. It is about his ownership and responsibility and my relationship to that and to him.

The collar was hard won, and earned. For us, it symbolizes a lifelong commitment to one another, reguardless of whether we are together as a couple or not. I am deeply honoured and proud to be allowed to wear it.

My gift to him was just a small ways of saying so. A way of saying I never forget what it is to wear his symbol.

As for other ways of marking the anniversary, in some ways, they will have to wait. This week is a bit crazy for us, what with preparations for BRXX as well as the rest of our day to day lives, but we both know we will eventually make some real time for us. Probably some over the course of BRXX, but also some thereafter.

I have the feeling that difficult as BRXX may turn out to be for us, at least some of it will be a time and place where we close the doors, shut the outside world away, and just really enjoy being together.

I'm looking forward to that.

My Raincheck

2007-11-07T19:03:00.000-05:00

So, by way of 'making up for' not getting the whips out over the course of a recent event, Sir had more or less given me a 'raincheck'. Which is what we finally got around to the other morning.

Sir was up early in the morning, and after I came down he eventually headed upstairs to shower saying maybe we could get around to something thereafter. I waited downstairs and went about my morning, not sure whether to expect anything or not. Eventually he called down and told me I was to come up to him.

I came to the big bedroom (which is also sort of our 'Work' room) to find him standing inside dressed all in black with a wicked grin on his face. (Eventually, I may get to a post about the room we primarily use, but for now, it will suffice to say it's "His" room, our bedroom, and clearly his domain. I have rooms of my own as well, although they are such at his pleasure.)

I stood outside the door and undressed (as it's the room I don't wear clothing in without explicit permission, one of our few rules) then by his permission, entered.

At the foot of the bed, there's a soft black bench with low arms at each end and lots of pillows; soft golden chenille and others with a shadowed black ornate floral orchid pattern. On days such as this, it is pulled out from the end of the bed, the pillows set aside, and the bench is then covered with a soft black sheet. It's just long enough for me to lie across comfortably, my head resting on one of the arms. Four black leather straps encircled each of the bench's legs, then come up towards the left and right raised ends. Across each end, Sir had attached two of the highly polished chrome spreader bars, each the width of the bench. On the bed laid several of my favourite whips, and the four black padded leather cuffs. Without saying a word, I knew what laid in store.

He told me to come around to the bed. Then lovingly, he buckled each cuff onto my limbs, first my wrists then my ankles. He crossed the room to the toolbox compartment organizers and pulled out four of the small nickel plated padlocks, then returned to me and proceeded to lock the cuffs onto me. This little 'ritual' of sorts in and of itself is enough to get me into a mindset.

(Soft black leather and shiny polished steel is very much our aesthetic. Metal and leather. Although somewhat ironically, I have no interest in many of the metal cuffs or collars we so often see. I suppose you could say we're both rather selective about our tools.)

He kisses me, and leads me across the bench, face down. Limb by limb, he clips the cuffs onto the spreader bars leaving me unable to escape, and a ready target. He ensures I'm comfortable, then disappears over towards the rack where we keep our whips hung. I'm not blindfolded, but I'm not sure I want to know, just yet, either. So I turn my head and close my eyes, giving over to him, and what he wants.

Anyone who has ever been sensually whipped can readily identify the two primary different sensations, 'thud' and 'sting'. For me, when I'm under Sir's whips, these two have two completely different effects. 'Thuddy' makes me sink, deep into a place where I've very inarticulate, but very pliant, and welcoming suggestion. 'Stingy' on the other hand, tries to lift me off of whatever I'm securely attached to, and leaves me fighting myself, begging for it to stop, and sometimes crying. (This does NOT however mean I actually want it to stop.) Each of these are their own head (and body) trip. It takes someone with a particular sense of timing and ability to 'read' me to combine them both over the course of a brief period. Neither of these are things I entrust to people I don't know well, as both leave me very emotionally raw.

Sir is one of the few people I know who can make me change gears as it were, between the two, and still leave me in a state where I actually enjoy it. Unfortunately, it's not something I find I can do often, and it takes both of us being in a particular state of mind and comfort to actually pull it off.

In any case, without telling me that was what he was about to do, that was the state he worked me into. Working from whips that can, when used a particular way feel more akin to a good massage, on to whips that once I'm warmed up, yes I can take, even though it's a most peculiar kind of enjoyment.

Back at the Floating World, we had found a flogger made of the satin cord it seems every kinky person has worked with or made something out of at some point. Just ordinary fabric store cord carefully woven into a nicely formed handle that felt good in my hand with a bazillion purple satiny tresses. The reason it came home, though, was that each of the tips had been carefully dipped repeatedly in 'tool dip', the rubber coating for tool handles. The balance was nice, and I knew instantly that those tails would sting horribly.

Well, I was right. And THAT will teach me to pick up a tool, having it in mind for use with perhaps a pretty girl somewhere in my future. I should know better. And I should know that just as I was always taught, before you use a tool on someone else, you should have it used upon yourself, so you know, down in your bones what it's capable of. While ultimately, of course I'm fine with all of that, it being the way things are done, and it is simply to be expected, I did not however expect this particular tool this particular morning.

Which led to many cries of "I hate that whip!... Don't stop."

By the time my morning's ordeal was 'over', I was very 'floaty'. Sir released me from my bonds at the bench and let me lay across the bed. We spoke briefly, and then he very matter of factly went over to the small table in the corner and returned with several sets of adjustable clamps with which he heightened my neediness beyond excruciating.

Then he removed them, and left me unfulfilled. He allowed me the cuffs for the rest of the day (actually, I slept in them that night only taking them off the next morning.)

The lovely anguish that is being left afterwards is not something I would normally enjoy. But with him, after this in particular, it was wonderful, feeling that ache combined with the soreness from the whips earlier, it left me constantly aware of HIM as I drifted through the next day or so. It's that awareness, that feeling of being owned, posessed, taken somewhere I rarely go with anyone with trust at the core of it that I treasure above all else.

Hallows

2007-11-02T11:33:00.000-04:00

I'll get towards writing about this morning later, but for the moment, just a brief post about Hallows.

Being a Witch (that's another blog!) I find myself furnished a number of preexisting excuses, if you will, for Sir and I to have sex. This often gets expressed something along the lines of "it's a pagan holiday! We should fuck!" Which is only all the more amusing when he brings it up, (Sir, not being a Witch.)

All of which tends to harken back to a wonderful Beltane spent one year with Sir and 'my' girl, this being many years back.

So, it's Hallows and Sir comes downstairs, somewhat annoyed that I wasn't upstairs seeing as to how he wanted me, right then and there. This is a good thing. Spontaneity makes me happy.

But I waver for a moment, and in an extraordinarily rare bit of 'giving him lip', I make it clear I'm busy. (This is deeply out of character for me, I don't do "brat" play.) This of course, cannot stand. (Yes, if my 'not now' were a real 'no' of course he'd respect that, but this is clearly me being 'playful' and we both know it.)

And so he has me stop whatever it was I was doing at the time, kneel on the big black leather couch, and he takes me, roughly.

And I'm happy.

This has everything to do with the dynamic between us. Any real 'not now' would have been clarified, and we would have gone on about our day, getting to sex at a later point.

But knowing one another as we do, we both know I'm 'asking for it' in my own rare way (usually I'd never DREAM of giving him shit!) and what comes next, no matter how much some might mistake it for vanilla what, with the lack of tools and all, is anything but, because we're both working with power, and his Dominance, and my risking, and that's where so much of the magick of the dance is for us. (That, and the smell and touch of leather as I'm being taken from behind never hurts. I am after all, far too much of a fetishist for it to be otherwise.)

Just a page that seemed worth sharing

2007-10-30T06:11:00.000-04:00

Not a whole lot to say this morning, but I wanted to share one of the pages I've been recently daydreaming over and slowly wandering through. The Long Island Staylace Association (LISA)'s many galleries worth of corset imagery.

Plenty of old cabinet cards, advertising, drawings and paintings on through to celebrity, latex, and a variety of modern corsets. Perhaps what I find most enjoyable though, is the gallery entitled "Not So Famous Tightlacers from the Past" as it contains perfectly ordinary people, relatives and unknowns captured by the lens at a moment in time.

I find I enjoy the 'back in the day' imagery far more than most of the modern creations. I suppose it has to do with seeing a thing in its 'natural' context.

Some of that "relationship maintainence" which seems as second nature to us

2007-10-21T15:46:00.000-04:00

So last night, much as I intended to make the Black Rose history panel, it wasn't to be. I was disappointed, but there was just no way it was going to happen. Apparently there may be a BR history workshop over the course of BRXX, so I'll keep my fingers crossed and hope to see something there. In the end, it was just as well we didn't go, as last night was something I would not have missed.

We spent the evening 'in', and this led to a rather intense discussion about some of where we're going with all this, some of what this 're-entry' into corners of 'the scene' is meaning for us, and a great deal of discussion about what we both want, and how to make it all work with our real day to day life. (By "intense" I do not mean 'heated', I mean very 'raw', very 'close to the bone', very 'real'.)

These are very real issues for us, for while we are both long term people in (and out of) 'the scene', (15 and 20 years, actually), we come at it from very different places with what are at times somewhat different expectations.

It's been very odd to come to groups ten years later, and see the occasional familiar face, only to realize that in ten years, they haven't changed a bit (and that's not necessarily a good thing). We, on the other hand, have changed a great deal. So it can be very jarring at times.

Most importantly, though, I think we've both pretty clear on the fact that while we may wander through 'the scene' in certain times and ways, the heart of who we are and what we do is very much something we live out here at home/with each other. Unlike so many people, who are only able to do these things, or wear these things, or be who they feel they are when they step out of their private spaces and daily lives and into 'scene' spaces, Sir and I actually live out our 'leather lifestyle' in the day to day. It's a luxury, and we understand how rare that is compared to many other people.

Nor do we compartmentalize our 'leather lives' away into something done in 'scene spaces' or events. There is no 'stepping out of role' for us, because our 'roles' are not 'roles' they are who we are. This is part of why terms like 'scening' have never worked for me, it's not something I relegate to Fridays between 7pm and 1am, or 'at clubs', or anything like that. No doubt some would then turn to us and say, oh no biggie, you 24/7. Which, while I suppose can be one way of putting it, is not how we see it. We simply are who we are. I may not use the word "Sir"except by accident when some friends or family is present, but that's out of respect for them and their comfort, not out of hiding anything. Most of my close friends know this simple fact of our relationship anyways, so hearing the occasional "Sir" to them is merely an acknowledgement of the realities of our lives.

In any case, so we sat and spoke at length last night, if only to be sure we are both on the same page coming off some of the experiences we're having and in relation to the direction(s) we both want to head.

Some people set aside one night a week to have these kinds of 'relationship' talks, for us though, it is nothing so formal. We just sometimes have an evening when we both have time and want to touch base with one another, and so we spend a few hours talking about the framework we're building together, and how we're relating to some of the shared experiences we're having.

Not surprisingly, afterwards, I went upstairs, got several tools together and Sir followed me up not long thereafter. No, this did not lead to a long hard night of whipping, nor of rough sex. Instead, it lead to being held tightly, and forced to cum repeatedly in his arms, slowly loosing control to whispered threats and promises of training/what will be done to me, soon enough.

I am exactly where I want to be.

BESS- "Switch, no longer a dirty word"

2007-10-18T03:38:00.000-04:00

So Sir and I attended Wednesday night's BESS (Baltimore Educational and Social Society) educational meeting. This week, they focused on S/switches- which despite being one myself, I despise the terminology for as it implies a binary 'on/off' dichotomy, rather than the more realistic multitude of realities that many of us live within. While I continue to search for better terminology, I tend to write the word in such as way as to imply a both/and at the same moment, "S/switch" in my own writings.

Unfortunately, false binaries plagued the presentation itself, leading to vast oversimplifications. And while the presenters acknowledged they were engaging in such, they marched boldly onward anyway- relying upon a straight line continuum betwixt 'Top/Master/etc- which jokingly got referred to as 'the dark side' and 'bottom/slave/etc' which in turn became 'the light side'. While such may work for duct tape, it rarely works for human relationships.

In any case, in very Kinsey scale fashion, there was much discussion on how most folks fall somewhere in the middle- and hence the discussion of 'switches' began.

I on the other hand, reject the false binary and instead see far more of a 50's stylized 'starburst' design (see Ace Jackalope's "Sputversary" for the definitive photo essay and description of objects similar to what I'm describing), a three dimensional object, with many continuums intersecting at various center points, although in my model the 'center points' along each line may not be even, thus creating many unequal arms.

Further, being bi, and poly, I may have one starburst for what I seek in one partner, or one partner of a particular gender, and another completely separate starburst for another partner, perhaps of another gender.

As for the lines/continuums piercing the center ball, they can be any number of things;

perhaps a pain related continuum- Sadist/masochist
an ownership related continuum- Master/slave
a gender portrayal continuum- Butch/femme
more or less a 'who leads' continuum- Dominant/submissive
a service continuum- Served/Serving
The Kinsey Queer related continuum- homo/het
Etc. Without doubt, there are many, many more.

The fact of the matter is that most of us in describing ourselves, and most of our partners or desired partners fall somewhere in the middle of each of these continuums. So we end up with starbusts, not straight lines when trying to accurately portray the realities of our real lives. And those points along each of those lines may change through time, from relationship to relationship, and partner to partner- even under one roof.

Three other quick notes, there was a strange emphasis on S/switches 'switching' in relation to "moods". For me, "mood" has nothing to do with it- the relationship to the partner determines the parameters, although when I have been in a relationship with another 'switch' while we may have partially changed roles though the course of years, we 'trended' towards one dynamic or another over the course of time, not nightly or hour to hour.

Secondly, while some may relate to "Poly, Bi, Switch" (PBS) as "greedy", I relate to it more as "PBS- and no that doesn't mean I'll sleep with you." Both Sir and I are highly selective about our partners.

And finally, remarkably, it took most of the workshop before it was finally mentioned that the way these things USED to be done was that Masters began as slaves. This was not 'switch' so much as it was earning the eventual right to call oneself "Master" it was about learning skills and earning leathers- a process most of today's Masters bypass entirely. But that 'starting at the bottom' had a great deal of value, among other things it taught a root of empathy with the things one was going to put their own slaves/bottoms/etc through.

It seems to me, "empathy" is the key word in relation to the S/switch experience. How one holds workshops without focusing upon that aspect leaves me wondering if it is perhaps so obvious as to be invisible, thus remains unidentified.

I was taught you never use a tool on someone else that had not first been used on you- and that had to do with having an intimate understanding of what the tool was capable of, what sensations it produced, and what kinds of potential reactions to expect. It had to do with earning the right to use that tool on another.

In these days of 'instant (true!) Master- just add internet!" such a process is unimaginable. Mere mention of such would be met with blank stares.

No, I'm not demanding all today's "Masters" begin at the bottom and work their way through. Some already have an innate empathy which seems to allow them to bypass the process and not be the worse for it, others, on the other hand, could use to first hand experience. It might help them understand that just because a work of fiction kept a girl naked and on her knees for 10 hour stretches, real girl's real knees aren't likely to enjoy that.

So, for my own reference, the calendar listing for the event.

October, 17th
Topic: Switch, no longer a dirty world..
With: Griffin and ann goodpet

– Being yourself in a world that loves labels and titles. This discussion will cover the way the lifestyle view switches, the different type of switches and switching, and how to maintain relationships when one or more partners are switches. Also will covered will be types of scenes that are often avoided by non-switching Tops but are, oh, so much fun. Griffin identifies as a Master who bottoms. His slave ann is a bottom who has been known to do some service Topping.

Griffin: Griffin, has been active in the lifestyle and the DC area scene for over 10 years. He is an active pony player (watch for Him in the documentary Born in a Barn), kidnapper, presenter, and all around scene player. Griffin enjoys rough play, takedowns, and wrestling along with the lighter sensuous scenes. Although well versed in a variety of tools of the trade, and different play styles, He is often seen doing intense physical scenes without any of the traditional toy use, only using His own body as His tools. Playing on the edge, Griffin follows RACK (Risk Aware Consensual Kink). Griffin is an alumni of the Master Taino’s Masters Academy and a member of Black Rose and on staff at Crucible. When not at an event He can be found sailing, working on His experimental Gyro-plane, or practicing sword fighting for the SCA tournaments. He currently lives in District Heights, MD with His dog Mandy, His partner and slavemate, ann, and salve lorrie, the newest member of the Griffin Household. Griffin’s home, fondly referred to as Castle Griffin, is a service/teaching household and host several lifestyle events throughout the year, including slave retreats, formal Master Dinners, play parties, and SIGs.

Ann Goodpet: Ann Goodpet identifies as a service submissive and slavemate to Griffin and has been active in the lifestyle for over 7 years. She is has been an active member, service provider, presenter and scene player in several groups in SC, NC, and the DC area. She is a member of Black Rose and staff at the Crucible. She lives in District Heights, MD with her partner and Master, Captain Griffin, His dog Mandy and slave lorrie, the newest member of the family.. ann enjoys the M/s lifestyle and is often doing service for groups, leather families, events, and individuals, always under the approval and guidance of her Master. ann is an alumni of Master Taino’s slave Academy. In addition to lifestyle activities and event, ann enjoys sailing, camping, SCA events, and any hands-on building project.

Registered for Black Rose XX today

2007-10-12T14:54:00.001-04:00

No huge news here, just the fact that we finally got around to registering and setting up our hotel arrangements.

I find myself having the same sort of reaction I often have in relation to Black Rose, their website, the way they relate to the broader community, etc- somewhat annoyed, and somewhat in need of a shower afterwards. (I know, not the nicest thing to say, but that is the way I end up feeling, no matter how hard or often I try to 'give it a chance'). And no, for the most part, I can't go into specifics here because some of what I'm reacting to is related to 'attendees only' aspects of the event site. In the end, it comes down to understanding some of BR's history, and having an honest disagreement with the way they do certain things.

So why are we going then? Suffice it to say, we knew, long before we decided to go, that this was in some ways sure, fun and learning, and workshops and presenters, and people and all the rest, but also part sociology, and looking at the subculture that BR has created in its corner of the Kinky universe (AND spreads beyond their own group). I suppose part of the reason we decided to go was that we felt it important to see with our own eyes.

While we will go for our own reasons, (as always when we go to any event), I feel it's important to go, and look, and listen, if for no other reason than to look closely at some of the ways in which BR influences other groups, nationally, concerning things such as 'standardization' of dungeon monitor trainings, Leather Leadership Conferences, and educational interface with non-kinky people, (police, etc.).

In the end we decided not to sign up for some of the add on special events, such as the "20th anniversary formal banquet"or other things such as the "Victorian Tea". Much as I do enjoy proper service, I'd be far more interested in a full Japanese Tea Ceremony. But that will have to wait until Shibaricon.

So all that said, while this blog is by no means private, I haven't entered it under my profile for BR either.

Sir actually has his 'party card' from a billion years ago. This being their 20th anniversary, no doubt quite a few old faces may come out of the woodwork with ancient party cards to match- or not.

Upcoming Events

2007-10-09T21:51:00.000-04:00

As usual, I haven't 'caught up' on my writings here, but as life continues on, I'll jump back and forth narrative-wise from time to time. So, in that spirit, here's where I find myself this week;

We're preparing to have a houseguest for part of next week and that's leading to some complicated scheduling.

BESS is going to be doing a Wed night educational meeting on S/switches-S/switching, naturally the one week I may or may not be able to make it! (It's not their fault.) Still, I may try to set Wed. evening aside and go by myself or some such. We'll have to wait and see.

Saturday the 20th Black Rose is going to do a "History of Black Rose" workshop at the Crucible and I'm very interested in trying to make that.

And finally, the other major news is that Sir and I have spoken at length and finally decided (not made any reservations or anything yet, merely decided so far) to attend Black Rose XX in DC.

(The last two items on this 'laundry list' deserve a post all their own, but that will have to wait for another day.)

In short, it's the kinky busy season!

with Midori last weekend- ropes

2007-09-29T15:41:00.000-04:00

Obviously there's a lot to write, I'm going to try to keep this relatively short, actually.

Sir and I spent last weekend in Philadelphia going to classes with Midori thanks to Passional. Much as we would have liked to make the first workshop (blowjobs) traffic made that a pipe dream. So we enjoyed an nice dinner of wonderful Cajun food instead. Afterwards, we drove into Philly, settled into our hotel, unpacked read our mail, took a quick shower, and relaxed. All in all, a far more civilized start to the weekend than rushing around would have been. Later, we settled into bed together, talked for awhile, and then one thing led to another. Suffice it to say, Sir got me into one hell of a head space, and I slept really well.

Unfortunately, we almost slept too well, and ran a little late the next morning. Everything would have been fine, had we either done room service or not had to try two different restaurants before finally getting breakfast (the first was an ugly mob scene), but in the end breakfast was a nice dinner where I could bang my coffee cup happily enough.

Since we had not done workshops at Passional before it took a little 'pulling it together' to deal with parking (hint, the nearby lot, while expensive is the best bet) and then realize the workshop was not actually at the shop, but several doors down the street where they will soon be opening a second location. But in the end we got in before the workshop began with enough time left over to catch our breath. We were certainly not the last of the stragglers to make it in, and unlike some folks, we at least had to good sense enough to turn off our cell phones before the workshop began (oh pet peeve!)

So Saturday was rope day- two rope workshops, one on basic rope bondage, the other on body harnesses. The first was a good overview and the rope scene Midori did as instruction for our deconstruction was in a word, HOT. An ongoing theme throughout the weekend would turn out to be how much those participating in the instructional scenes seemed to enjoy the idea of being tied up or flogged by Midori herself. No doubt a certain amount of author/superstardom enters into it- at least for the audience members.

Midori herself happily identifies as somewhat of a "big dork" who is somewhat awestruck that this is her actual life. I can completely understand that. But both self identification and audience perceptions aside, Midori is an educator and has a wonderful sense of humour.

In any case, the first workshop in many ways was very much review for me, although I was interested in how she taught it, and how it would provide the basis for her second workshop.

Personally, I found Lee (Brigit) Harrington's rope bondage for sex at Ohio Leather Fest a little over a year ago a bit more practical for what I do.

That said, the second workshop, body harnesses, was probably the most useful part of the weekend for me. I'm a very visual learner and someone who enjoys learning by doing, so while rope books can teach me some things, it's more constructive for me to actually be in a hands on workshop space like that.

The other rather amusing bit (in both rope workshops, actually) was that we divided the audience into partner A and partner B, first partner A worked along with Midori showing the tie, then partner B got to follow along and also do the same. What this meant in practice was that first Sir tied me up and then I got to tie him up- something I'd barely ever done before.

Doing a full body harness on him was kind of interesting, not only from the power dynamic stance, but also in that even when I'm the dominant partner, I don't tie men up. (Not my thing). So naturally one has to adjust their ropes to the topography of their intended victim, errrr model. It made for an interesting, but ultimately confirmed for me, I'm not into being dominant with men. The very being with Sir in the first place, while not a complete fluke, is not my primary personal identification.

Body harnesses, though, are great fun. (And yes, when done right, they can look all 'domly' too, don't get me wrong!)

I once wore a lovely Hishi Karada (diamond pattern [rope] body [harness]) at a party after playing 'demo model'. This may not sound all that special, but at the time, the technique wasn't all over the place, it wasn't in easily accessed books, it wasn't as nearby at the net, there was no shibaricon, and simply put, it was something completely different, and it felt incredible. I was very honoured. At the time, here on the east coast, these techniques were in the hands of people who had learned them (sometimes out on the west coast, sometimes in other parties, etc) and they in turn taught them to other friends in spaces like private parties. Looking back, I'm realizing what a different time that was, and how special it was to actually have been running around that party back then in that harness.

It was also one of my first brushes with people at a party paying attention to me not for me as myself, but to me as an example of an artist's technique. Under normal circumstances, I'm not a party attention slut, but I don't mind that kind of attention at all- that being a living work of someone else's artistry.

So working through some of the harnesses, and some of the harnesses in Midori's book ("The Seductive Art of Japanese Bondage") was very helpful. The illustrations came to life under my own fingers and ropes, and the end result (yes even on Sir!) was very gratifying.

I've decided to actually break apart the weekend into several posts, but I will add on last thing here on the "ropes" post. I'd been really interested in looking into Midori's 'Rope Dojo' (http://www.ropedojo.com/) despite the expense. (I understand it, I just don't know if I personally am willing.) So I thought these two rope workshops with her this weekend would be sort of a nice getting my feel wet. I'd see what I thought of her as an instructor, see whether or not I was enjoying the rope workshops, and whether or not I'd like to try to align my schedule and travel to someday spend a weekend doing the Dojo. If anything, I was a little disappointed I was missing her NY Dojo this Fall.

Well, it now having been a week since our Philly workshops, I'm very seriously considering the Dojo, and there's a very real possibility that one is coming to our area soon- knock wood.

I've also told Sir to pencil in Shibaricon in Chicago next year. It would make a nice birthday present- and we have many other reasons to get to Chicago, not the least of which being the Leather Archives and Museum.

BESS - Knifeplay 201

2007-09-21T04:19:00.001-04:00

Wednesday night Sir and I finally made it to a BESS (Baltimore Educational and Social Society) meeting and munch afterwards. They had a large turn out, apparently due to the topic- Knifeplay 2o1. Lots of pretty sharpee pointee things that go 'skrit' or 'chitink' in the night. Nice.

Turns out it was Sas's first workshop presentation. I thought he did a really good job, showing both humour and genuine love of the subject at hand. When someone speaks from the heart, it shows, and it was clear that despite the nervousness he claimed, he not only knew his material, but the trust between him and with womyn (plural) he did the demo with, as well as his genuine love of the subject was obvious.

As for BESS itself, we'd been meaning to take a look for quite some time now, but our schedules hadn't cooperated. It was a very comfortable and familiaresque crowd- depsite us not knowing anyone. The kind of folks who one is apt to see at Ren Faires, or any given (Sci-Fi) con, and all very Balwmer-hon (said with the affection one can only fathom having once lived in Baltimore myself.)

While it seems a bit odd to find the bimonthly educational gathering meeting in a rented hotel room (a la Black Rose down in DC, but a very different class of hotel), it did not seem unnatural, just different. Maybe it's because the idea of teaching knifework and bloodplay under the florescent lights of a suburban hotel is somehow completely at odds with the normal settings for such things- then again, it certainly makes seeing the cuts much easier.

While we did not join BESS, we did decide to come back when another topic catches our fancy and perhaps go through their little orientation session then. We overheard someone else getting the kind of overview/welcome orientation. Nothing a good read over the website wasn't going to tell you, really. So for the moment, anyway, we came to neither a yes or a no, just a hmmmm, well perhaps at some future date.

Afterwards, a caravan of cars made its way over to a local Pizza joint (oh so very Maryland) and took over one long table stretching from one end of the restaurant to the other. While not exactly conducive to in depth conversations, it certainly led to amusing jumbles of half heard bits and pieces of conversations that wove together into a tapestry- the quiet hum of happy folks out for an evening with friends.

After the evening ended and we returned home, we talked a lot about community and isolation. Somewhere, in the pre-dawn hours, this led to very, very late night sex.

A weekend with Midori

2007-09-17T02:08:00.000-04:00

After much procrastination and indecision, Sir and I have decided to go to Philadelphia next weekend for a weekend's worth of four workshops Passional is presenting with Midori (there was a discount to attend the full weekend, so we decided what the hell). As to whether they'll be basic 101 'refresher courses' for us, or actually cover some new territory remains to be seen, but I usually tend to pick up at least a few new details no matter how many times I've seen similar material as each presenter tends to have a few bits and pieces unique to the way they teach.

In any case, the details-

* Sept 21, 7-9PM JoyStick Secrets: How To Please Your Man

Learn how to make him moan and writhe in unbelievable pleasure. Join internationally-acclaimed sex educator Midori for this in-depth training on orally pleasuring your guy. Using delicious practice props (think fruit!) you¹ll learn all about the sucks, licks, swirls, strokes and touch secrets that will blow his mind. She¹ll even cover tips on how to reduce discomforts or gag reflexes. What better gift is there than to show him your new techniques that very night?

* Saturday Sept 22, 1-3PM Hands-On Rope Bondage

Rope bondage can be simple, elegant, effective and sensual, but if you don't know how to do it right, it can be dangerous. Midori will teach you how to use this versatile bondage tool to maximize fun and minimize risks. Learn basic techniques including two-column restraint, body harnesses and creative positions. Midori is the author of The Seductive Art of Japanese Bondage, and is an expert in safe and effective Japanese inspired rope bondage. Wear comfortable clothing and bring a minimum of 2 lengths of 15 feet and 2 of 25 feet of rope.

*Saturday Sept 22, 4-6PM Hands-on Rope Body Harness

Body harnesses are fantastic for creating beautiful, effective, and sexy bondage for all types of bodies and many different sorts of scenes. You can use a harness for very secure rigging. Or you can make a pretty rope outfit. Create intense harnesses for pain sluts. How about sensual breast bondage? Midori will show you at least 6 different varieties of body harnesses. You can choose the ones you want to practice with attentive supervision from Midori. Dress & Supplies: Wear comfortable clothing that allows freedom of movement. Bring a large towel or yoga mat if you¹d like to use the floor. And, of course, bring rope - the more, the merrier! (Suggested minimum: 3 or 4 pieces of 30 to 35 foot lengths, one piece of 50 to 75 foot length. If the rope is for a smaller person, bring the shorter lengths. For a larger person, bring the longer lengths.)

* Class_Sept. 23 1-3PM:The Sensual Whip: A Hands-on Workshop

Ah the flogger. It's often what comes to mind when we think of kinky sex, but picking one out and learning to use it can be quite a challenge. If you'd like to learn the skills of using floggers and get some tips on finding one that works for you, come join Midori for a hands-on evening full of useful tips. You'll learn how to find the toys that will create the sensations that you want and that will work for your body, as well as how to use them to deliver powerful sensations without fatigue. If you have a flogger, please bring it. Midori will bring plenty to try out so you can experiment with different types. Exercises will focus on motion and techniques. Think ³air flogging² and fun games to improve precision!

Addendum- Here's an article in Passional Magazine about this weekend with an interview

Corsetry

2007-09-13T03:04:00.000-04:00

So to backtrack a bit, finally, as I mentioned, after we attended the Floating World we went to Philadelphia for an afternoon for some corset shopping at Passional, (as their specialty is corsets.) It was our first time actually visiting the shop, despite the fact that over a year ago at the Ohio Leather Fest we had found several treasures from them. One being a lovely black satin waist cincher, the other being the piece I wear ever minute of every day, the titanium band locked around my wrist, that I wear as a form of 'collar'.

When last we were out in San Francisco, we had wanted to try to set a custom corset fitting at Romantasy, but in the end our timing didn't work out. Eventually, we hope to have a custom piece created, made to my curves, but for now, we decided to look into what would or would not work in terms of a prefabricated piece. So we spent some of our afternoon trying on a variety of leather corsets, until we were certain we had found exactly the right one.

It is described, thusly on their website-

"Underbust Corset- Black 100% genuine calfskin leather. Constructed with 26 flexible spiral steel stays, a steel busk, 4 steel bars in the back to support the grommets and 2 steel bars adjacent to the busk in the front. The outer fabric is laminated to a cotton twill fabric and then lined again with a cotton fabric. Laced with black shoe lace and includes garter belt loops."

Simply put, it's lovely. And it feels exquisite.

Since returning home, we have been slowly 'breaking it in', letting it adjust to my shape and letting me adjust to it. In time, we will begin to lace it more tightly. Yet even without the tight lacing, the compression and change in posture feels wonderful.

All of which, I suppose has been the background leading up to the lovely afternoon we spent two days ago. Sir and I enjoyed an early afternoon up in our room; talking and holding one another, then lacing me into the leather corset, toying with me on black satin sheets, working a cold steel tool into me, and finally making love to me.

An uninformed onlooker might mistake such as not that far from 'vanilla' sex, but I assure you, this had as much to do with what was happening between my ears as what was happening between my legs.

Corsets are not fashion to me, they have everything to do with fetish, and only so much more so for being constructed of the soft black kidskin. I don't consider this leather I have earned, but it is leather my Sir places upon me, and I wear with pride and pleasure.

"Elephant Pee"

2007-09-09T01:47:00.001-04:00

So today, Sir and I headed down to the "Leather Flea and Play" or LF&P, (which yes, gets transmogrified into "Elephant Pee") at the Crucible in DC. They throw this little shopping expedition and playtime twice a year. Sir and I, this time around anyway, decided to stick with the shopping. Maybe, if we knew a few more folks or some as of yet indeterminate 'something', come next march we might consider getting a nice hotel in the area and yeah, staying for the "play" (Oh how I LOATHE that term in this context). This time out though, we made just a small trip of it.

We saw all of two people we recognized, and no, I don't think either recognized us. In the decade or so we've been away from some of what grew in DC lots of people have moved on- not surprising, but interesting, in that there are so FEW left.

I spent the night before polishing Sir's boots to a nice shine, so he woke up to them in the morning. It seemed to make him happy. For me, on some level, it's just what I do, but on another level, I take a certain pride in doing these things and doing them well for him. It sort of occurred to me at some point, as I was working with the saddle soap, that even were another girl come into our household and become an ongoing part of our lives, I'm not sure I want anyone other than myself working on Sir's boots. An odd thought really.

In any case, shopping at the elephant pee wasn't particularly interesting. The only high quality whips I had any interest in were at Passional's area, and honestly, were too similar to pieces we already had, and seemed "too light" to my hand. I'm really starting to wonder who's still making good solid quality whips, and whether or not they make public appearances on this coast? I'd still like to 'finish out' Sir's set, but I haven't found anyone I'd trust to get it right.

But, we found some micro panic snaps, which, size-wise struck us both as perhaps useful. I picked up an extremely basic little knife and many, many yards of "Raspberry" MFP rope, and finally some in the thinner diameter, too. We picked up more of the black pallet wrap and a couple of rolls of purple vetrap, just on good measure- replenishing supplies after the Floating World, so to speak.

So we had a nice afternoon; we wandered, we half-heartedly watched a girl experience a suckee bed for the first time, and we talked a little with the 'newcomer' volunteer with BESS, the Baltimore Education and Social Society. BESS is a little too "SSC" for my taste, but it looks like we're finally going to at least wander into a meeting and see what we make of it. It always weirds me out when someone asks "which mailing list did you hear about us on?" because, of course, that's not how I learned about the group. Turns out they're 6 years along now. They fall squarely into that time after I had left Baltimore.

Sir and I had already decided to attend their meeting on the 19th, when they are doing their 1/2 hour newcomer orientation followed by a "knifeplay 201" workshop. So I guess we'll see what we see.

One of the main things about the LF&P that struck us both? How young the crowd was. And in my case, well, how Het the crowd was- some exceptions, but not enough.

Rosemont Manor/ Our House on the Hill, W.VA

2007-09-04T03:19:00.000-04:00

Once again, Joe Gallagher's LEATHERPAGE (http://www.leatherpage.com/) hooks me up.

Steve Lenius, writing in Lavender, ("Minnesota's GLBT magazine") has done a follow up on what's been happening to Rosemont Manor, a Kink/swinger/Leather/nudist/Queer friendly B&B and venue in West Virginia. No, not WVA down near VA, this is up in the panhandle, right along the Ohio river, almost due west of Pittsburgh, PA.

I know the area, and boy, do I ever know the media in that area. Steubenville, Ohio, by the way, is home not only to Dean Martin, but also one hell of a nest of Catholics, not the least of which being Franciscan University- a focal point in the Catholic Charismatic renewal movement.

Rosemont Manor has been forced to remove its website marketing to 'alternative communities', "our house on the hill" (OHOTH), but it's regular B&B site still remains active- http://www.rosemontmanor.com/

Anyhow, here are his two pieces on the ongoing hell Rosemont is being put through-

“Not in My Neighborhood!”
Small Town or Big City, Alternate Lifestyles Face Hostility from the Neighbors
-Steve Lenius, Lavender Magazine
http://www.lavendermagazine.com/archives/308/article_3966.php

Return to Rosemont Manor: Look, Ma! I’m a Zoning Violation!
-Steve Lenius, Lavender Magazine
http://www.lavendermagazine.com/artman/publish/article_4830.php

The National Coalition for Sexual Freedom (http://www.ncsfreedom.org/)has also included OHOTH in their media updates.

To get a feel for how twilight zone this begins to feel, though, you simply must turn to articles from the West Virgina Record, such as this- http://www.wvrecord.com/news/198090-judge-orders-stop-to-adult-activities-at-weirton-mansion
which is perhaps best summerized by a sentence fragment found within- "how to apply zoning law to a kinky Web site".

Life goes on

2007-09-03T18:02:00.000-04:00

Well, despite the fact that I haven't found time this week to really write about all the Floating World experiences, life has been going on, and other things have been happening. So I'll eventually come back and do a FW recap, but for now I'm just going to fill in a few other bits.

Sir and I have been nesting here in the aftermath. The first few days home my shoulders and behind were sore, and he was taking a fair amount of pleasure merely in giving me a back rub or the occasional swat. It's a good event when the 'afterglow' lasts well into the week. There are also slightly less pleasant 'aftermaths' such as trying to get white face powder off the nice black leather blindfold. Good thing I got a nice big tub of saddle soap.

Monday evening, we got out the corset from Passional (yes, I am ahead of myself, I will go back and tell the story later), and I got to run about for part of the evening with it on, but not tightened down, not the first few times anyway, it needs time to adjust to my body and the wearing. But it was wonderful.

The room is finally back together, all the whips are rehung, tools cleaned and neatly put away. Other than the neatly folded basket of Sir's laundry that needs to be put away, everything is back in order there.

So we spent part of the week getting back together, and part of the week yearning for some alone time. I was spacey and flighty for much of the early part of the week, and clearly the event carried over for Sir as well.

Two new 'rules' were also made this week- one about when he's out of the house, the other being he finally gave me a place to put my hands while I await his attention- if he's programming, or reading, or such. They may seem small things, perhaps long overdue, but I think he's beginning to realize some of these particular small things matter.

Finally, Saturday night we went upstairs and made some time for training. We got out some of the leathers and let me lie quietly with my own thoughts, or not. Across the room, Sir read for a bit, then came over and tormented me. It was both a rather quiet evening, and full of intensity. I'm very content.

The last 24 hours I've felt very calm and happy.

Home from the Floating World

2007-08-27T22:04:00.000-04:00

My head is spinning with all that this last weekend was. At the moment, I'm exhausted, but also very excited and hopeful. We had a very good weekend!

Sir and I finally got to some of the conversations and some of the particular 'doing' we've been working toward for a long time now. We didn't make very many of the (WAY overscheduled!) workshops, but I must say, the ones we missed, we usually missed for all the right reasons.

On the way back home from the Floating World, we made a stop in Philadelphia at Passional, and that is a story in and of itself, although right now, it has to be a story for another day.

So yes, LOTS of writing to do. At the moment, though, I'll just leave it at our safe return home and the fact that I would write more, but I'm simply too tired.

Morning after

2007-08-26T13:15:00.000-04:00

We're still at the Floating World, today is the kinky Ren Faire and the dog and pony show :)

I'm feeling wonderful right this moment. I ache. We spent some time in a nice dark corner of the dungeon last night, and I have happy marks.

But the real news is that yes, one of the kimono came out last night, and I seem to have made some people happy. As I mentioned to Sir, the event was starting to become all talk, no Geisha, so we had to remedy that. (Although, I'm guessing we'll be seeing some kimonos today at the Ren Faire.)

In any case, I need to get moving, but things are going well on this end.

Presentation of Leathers and final preparations

2007-08-22T09:03:00.001-04:00

Much has been going on this last week.

Last night Sir and I finally made some time for ourselves. I'm really glad we were able to find time for that before we left for the event.

There is lots of other news, first and foremost being my gift to Sir made it here before the event, so to mark our ten years together I presented him the wide black belt two nights ago. It looks really good- just I knew it would. As I've said, Sir isn't much into 'the look', he has his own style, but just catching a glimpse of him running around in his boots makes me happy.

My own 'replacement' jacket has also come in, so two nights ago Sir helped me into the jacket, and then the new vest (which will be set aside until I've earned it). It feels so very odd to have new, unbroken in leathers going into this event, but that's ok. I know that there's actually a decade of jacket behind this new one, and that's all that really matters. Last night, in the afterglow, Sir placed the new jacket around my shoulders and I felt very 'at peace'.

The cards are finally all completed, and I'm up to doing last minute laundry. Tonight's task will be carefully packing and loading all the odds and ends into luggage and then into the truck. If there is time, I'm still working out a particular playlist on my iPod, but I don't know that I'll get that far.

Sir seems so much more relaxed about all this than I do, but other than the packing frenzy, we're both completely on the same page about this event. It feels really good to know that we're not pulling opposite directions on this. I have no idea if the workshops will actually be useful, or if they'll merely piss me off, but I'm willing to try, walking in completely open to the possibility of this being a REALLY good event.

After last night, I'm already kind of 'floating'. Today, I'm in a really good mood and I feel like I can tackle all that needs to be done between now and when we leave. I woke up early and just jumped right into the day.

A rant that covers a lot of ground- getting things out of the way

2007-08-22T08:57:00.000-04:00

This is another, older diary entry, from May '06;

Getting some dirty laundry "out of the way"

Ok, so maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm a freak.

I'm intentionally not posting the source for what's got me railing this morning, as it seems a common enough attitude amongst SOME of the modern leather people I keep stumbling across. No need to publicly shame the women interviewed or who wrote the piece that's got me all riled up, (let's face it, the interviewee in question is doing the best she can to find her own way, and has found her own measure of happiness, I don't begrudge her that.) So I’ll dispense with the descriptions, other than to say the woman who expressed sentiments similar to the following self identifies as a Het leather person, a submissive who was interviewed by another self described "leather chick", "leader" who writes a webpage some other pages syndicate from time to time. Thus I stumbled across the comments I’m about to paraphrase.

When a 'submissive' someone or other makes a statement along the lines of-

"In the mornings I get up and make coffee for (Dom's first name), prepare His breakfast, and serve Him. Once that's out of the way..."

Again, maybe I'm just a fossil, but am I missing something?

If any part of one's 'service', whether that's making and 'serving' breakfast, or the more general morning 'service' one performs to one's (collared in this case) Top/Dom/whatever is merely a thing to "Get out of the way" I guess I’ve got some serious questions.

Any form of 'service' as merely something to get done and over with? Phew- yeek! When did that happen? I must have missed the memo.

As a self described (S/)switch myself, let me be the first to assure all within ‘earshot’, if I'm serving my Sir (I'd never refer to him by his First name in that context!) or any other partner, I'm fully present in the moment, and not looking forward to 'getting that over with'. I'm not suffering through, looking forward to 'me time' at the other end of this crap I have to endure. I’m right there, in that moment, in that doing, and no matter whether it be ‘shit work’ or the most pleasurable duties imaginable, I’m not biding my time. And that is EXACTLY where I wish to be.

Furthermore, as a S/(s)witch, coming at it from the Domme side, if any 'submissive' comes to my life and my space with that kind of outlook, they've no business being mine. Period.

It’s the Leather equivalent of the vanilla, “Beige, I think I’m paint the ceiling beige” whist lying upon one’s back and ‘thinking of England’.

As should be clear by now, I'm not in any way saying this kind of ‘get it over and done with’ attitude is unique to the Het leather scene, just that that's where I've found much much more of it. I can only assume that perhaps some of the rigors of Queer Leather life, and some of the risks we face (by our mere existence) as Leather Queers shape us a bit differently. Our rare spaces are all the more valuable in that they are rare. Incredibly so for Leatherwomyn. Our ability to sexually be who we are is a hard fought battle, not something to try on for size, or 'play' with.

When I came to Leather, it was the 'work', Tools, not toys. As there was always risk not merely involved, but at the forefront of our minds, this was nothing one took lightly. Perhaps we came to our Leather identities despite the risks, as we could no longer live in ways that denied our deepest selves, it was compelling to live out that truth, and was not confined to bedroom behaviours, it was who and what we were. Certainly some in the Het scene live this too, but for others, I grow concerned. Drive, Passion, and the demand to let our truth live out our lives sometimes seems absent. And yes, that absence can also be apparent in the Queer crowd.

Still, it takes a certain something to find the hidden places on the bad side of town, show that you are worthy of an invite, and show that willingness to learn, and can and will behave properly when you finally reach that dimly lit Shangri-la. These are acts of need, and it is a vetting process of sorts, something unimaginable to those who look for the next munch on the local leather calendar and show up having read ‘the books’ and thinking they know, and thus don’t need to sit quietly and watch. ‘Net know’ is worlds apart from knowing. Knowing comes borne of risk and threat, and trust and honour. Consequences were always just around the next corner. And in an age when communications were so incredibly different, finding a kindred spirit was a rare and wondrous thing, never to be taken for granted.

Yeah, and no doubt we walked uphill both ways through a foot of snow to and from the Leatherspace.

Well some did, but they did so before my time, so I was fortunate enough to be able to walk in their footprints. Some in today's 'scene' deny there ever were footprints, much less that there could possibly be any value or worth in following such. For all the lip service the Leather Archives gets in Het-land, I don't see the same understanding of it from Het Leatherpeople.

So here I sit, a Bi, S/(s)witch Leatherwomyn, collared to her Sir. Confused yet? I'm not. I know exactly where I stand.

Unfortunately, where I stand is outside many structures, and with this further devaluing (my judgement, my journal, my opinion- deal) I keep running across, I feel distant and often repulsed by what passes for today's Leatherculture. And I'm not the only one. Other folks who have been around for a while, some may notice, are not 'around' so much anymore. And that's a damn shame, considering that as this devaluing continues to slide, people who remember ways it 'used to be' are in many ways more in demand than ever. The constant drumbeat for 'leaders' for 'mentors' and this odd fascination with romanticized notions and mythologies of 'old guard' are all just expressions of yearning. Yearning to be a part of a tradition, to know you're not alone, others have tread this path before, and that yes, since S/m has many genuine risks to it, both technical and societal, you're not completely alone out there working 'without a net'. To both good and ill, this then gains expression through both institutionalization and shared notions of 'common rules' which in some cases were never intended to be such.

Take, for example, a (somewhat changing) set of rules that were scrawled off for play parties at science fiction conventions (back in the day). These were specifically designed for the kinds of venues they would be used in, and among that particular subset of the broader 'scene' for the duration of certain specific events- cons. Yet over time, as many Het couples got their first in person introduction to the scene by way of those parties, when they began throwing their own parties, the rules migrated along with them. Few revisions were made to suit the new venues and subsets of the community, instead, the hastily scrawled off rules became regarded as community norms. It's not dissimilar to a game of telephone, played out in fetishwear. The 'rules' which were never THE RULES, became THE RULES to the exclusion of all else. What people miss is that THE RULES were jotted down, perhaps on something as simple as a napkin back over a meal with friends. They were written by people looking at a situation- one which had certain legal parameters.

The idea of other people coming up with other guidelines that more aptly fit their circumstances has become verboten, as now messing with the 'sacred texts' has become tantamount to stepping beyond the parameters of community standards. It's weird as hell to watch recent marketing slogans that we aimed at external, non-kinky culture like "safe, sane, and consensual" become not only THE LAW, but also something many now demand we hold one another, internal to Leatherculture to- always forgetting that some of us were Leatherfolk, tormenting pretty girls long before their precious LAW had even been dreamed up.

So what does this all have to do with little miss 'once that's over with'? Something's getting lost. Or maybe it already got lost.

Call it gut, but something has been lost, when I now watch people writing online about how you must NEVER play with anyone who 'manipulates you', or makes you feel 'out of control'. I don't even recognize this new 'leather' scene. Some of us just find such notions outright laughable. Feeling, ‘manipulated’ or ‘out of control’ may not merely be the hottest and wettest for some people, it may well be THE POINT!

So the 'mentors' new Leather craves so desperately just stop showing up to events. In part, because we don't need flogging 101 for the 150th time. But also for the deeper reasons, we simply have no idea how to function in a world where 'submissives' expect their 'Dommes' to e-mail them a week before the 'date' with an outline, detailing every aspect of what a 'scene' will look like, so the 'subbie' in question can shop around to get exactly what they want. (Real example here folks.)

Another reason some of us are disappearing is a simple logistical one. I may be collared by a man, but that does not mean we are a Het couple, and when I choose to be with a womyn, I'm immediately written off as being contaminated by the man in my life. There are few spaces that accept the realities of the fluidity of some of our sexualities. Simplistic breakdowns by gender or by what sex or gender one's partner may be, or may be playing don't work for some of us. And we need spaces that reflect those realities.

As an artist, I sometimes talk about ‘art that needs an manual’, if it takes 300 pages to explain it to the average person, mostly written in ‘art-speak-ese’, my guess is the piece has failed to communicate. (Hah! Get a load of the length of this diary!) Venues for Leather communities can likewise, fail under the weight of the manuals required to sort out the who’s who and who’s doing what, and what do we think of that? This is some of why many elders have retreated into Leather families, Leather houses, and private clubs, most Leather scene-sters will never even realize are there. We don’t want manuals or to have to ask permission to love who and how we do, not from the outside world, and doubly so from whatever passes for our chosen ‘community’.

The stark realities of pre-net and post-net Leatherpeople and our cultural ‘norms’, sometimes feel insurmountable. Ultimately, it’s a loss to both, those recent, and those elders. Despite the divisions, both real and artificial, we need one another. That is the real travesty here. To people like myself “Leather service” alongside “once that's out of the way..." are simply unimaginable. But my guess is, the Leatherworld I inhabit may be equally unfathomable to the woman in question. Yes we each have found our happinesses. But when the interweave of generations in a shared culture (if we still have one) is torn, the loss is great. Thus I find myself talking with two sets of friends- would be mentors bemoan their lack of ability to find someone to pass on their skills, history, traditions and knowledge to, and those young in Leather, bemoaning their inability to find voices of experience.

To restore some of our voices to the 'community' the 'bad' news (for some) is that some venues (not all) are going to have be a bit more complicated- places where you won't be able to tell what's going on by merely looking as visual cues like gender or even preconceptions. 'Scorecards' may practically become 'necessary', (as if they weren’t already? Fear not, I'm only joking, most of already have our hands quite full, thank you!)The 'good' news, though, is that if there are spaces in which we can be ourselves, I'm guessing some folks would gladly come back. We too feel a desire to pass on our knowledge, Some feel drawn to being ‘voices of the old ways’, yet feel stifled by rigid compartmentalized subsets of 'community' in terms of spaces and what they feel they can comfortably say and do. No I’m not talking merely spaces friendly to genders in different arrangements, I’m talking about spaces in which not adhering to the magic incantation ‘safe sane and consensual’ is not grounds for gathering up the villagers, lighting torches, and a mob making its way up toward the strange dark house on the hill where the ‘monster’ lives.

The other good news, is that for some of us, this is Leather is our lives, it's damn real, and we don't live anywhere where getting any of this, even a single moment of it 'out of the way' ever crosses our minds, mid-service or otherwise.

A post on ending Leather relationships

2007-08-22T08:45:00.000-04:00

Recently, on an e-mail list, there was a question about ending Leather relationships and what happens to symbols, tools, and collars. The following is what I wrote in response.

***

I'll speak to some of how I was taught by friends in the midwest in the mid to late 80's about how we tried to conduct our relationships and how one relates to tokens and tools, particularly when relationships come to a close. These are just some of how I learned and some of how I (personally, speaking as a switch) have structured my own relationships. A lot of how I deal with tools and objects at an end has everything to do with how we related to the objects and the meanings we imbued them with throughout the course of the relationship.

First and foremost, I was taught was that how a Leatherperson conducts their personal affairs reflects deeply on them, and so just as one would enter into a relationship with honesty, forthrightness, and no hidden motives, ideally the same should be able to be said (again, *ideally*, anyway) of drawing one's relationships to a close if that time comes. Just as we negotiate a beginning, so too, must we sometimes negotiate an end- in good faith, honestly, articulately, and without hidden motives. Ending as civilly as possible is about many things, not merely maintaining a reference of sorts. I think it says a lot about a person, and about how they care/cared for their partner through the relationship to end it as civilly as possible.

When that's not possible, well, do the best one can to end it as civilly as possible- while still standing firm on what one's genuine needs are. There are some things that genuinely cannot be budged on without loosing parts of oneself, and on those things holding firm may be the civil thing one can do.Maintaining one's self respect is important as well, because even after the relationship is long gone, you still have to look yourself in the mirror in the morning. At the end of the day, it's you you have to live with.

One of the key qualities of a Leatherperson was that he or she kept their word. If they said it, they did it. This applies, doubly so perhaps, to when 'the going gets tough'. How one ends a relationship, and whether or not one 'does right' by the other person, not to the exclusion of self, but to their word and to the extent they can is a measure of a person. Do you bend over backwards for an abuser, no. Emphatically, NO. Here, I'm talking about situations where both parties did what they could, an honest attempt, it didn't work out, and now it's time to do something else. Being adult about it is important.

Reputation was an important aspect of Leatherlife in the community I was a part of back then (it still is to me), and so being a person of your word was very important. That also meant knowing when to say no, and when to turn things down, even if the other person was going to be unhappy, because it was better to say no at the outset rather than say yes, and then try to back out later.

Another aspect of reputation and respect meant not gossiping or badmouthing about one's ex after it was over.

Genuinely giving honest answers if asked about them? Say what needs to be said, but don't editorialize or badmouth, stick to the facts. If asked your opinion, make it clear that it's your opinion, give a very short summary, (sentence or two, unless there's pertinent safety information and you're being asked for a recommendation for example. Make it clear that that was at that time, x number of years ago, and the other person may have learned new skills, etc in the intervening x years) and leave it at that.

As for tools and other Leather symbols from the relationship? Being switch myself, I've some experience from both ends.

I was taught (and maintain in relationships that I have had) that the collar belongs to the Dominant/Top/Sir/Mistress (whatever term one uses, I'll just use "D" in this as a shorthand) as it is their property and extended to their submissive/bottom/girl or boy/plaything (whatever term one uses, I'll just use "s" in this as a shorthand) as a symbol of their relationship to the D.

Which was always predicated upon really 3 things-

1. that the D in the relationship had chosen/procured/and extended the collar for/to the s in the first place

2. that the symbolism of the collar initially had to do with coming under ownership or protection of said D- which carried with it the idea that the D was taking responsibility for that s and that the D's collar was an outward, external symbol and reminder of that.

3. and finally, that the collar, similar to other leathers also falls under a rule I was taught- that if a D puts a piece of leather on their s, the s is not to remove it until the D removes it or gives permission or instruction for when and how it is to be taken off.

As the collar was chosen, procured, in some cases even designed by the D, and then extended to the s as a symbol of those reciprocal aspects of the relationship (that of the s being owned, and coming under the D's protection and responsibility), the collar was never viewed as being "owned" by the s. It was a privilege to wear the collar of a Dominant (never "their" Dominant as the possessive term wasn't used in relation to the Dominant who owned/owns one). It was a privilege that could also be taken away at any time, although that would be considered a pretty severe measure and potentially signaling the end of a relationship.

I was also taught that while a D may remove (their) collar at any time, the s could not remove it without permission. (See point 3 above.) So if an s wanted the collar removed, or more broadly out of the relationship, it was their responsibility to ask the collar be removed or permission to remove it, which also, had the implication of either loss of privilege, end of ownership, and potentially end of the relationship.

I have known a few couples who have at one time or another set a collar aside for a time, and then at a later time returned a collar. Not wearing the collar didn't mean the end of the relationship, but it certainly indicated vast changes in the structure of the relationship, and in at least one case a massive renegotiation and fundamental changes prior to wearing the collar again. I even know of one couple who had one collar for a period of time, another period of their relationship without a collar, and then a third period which was marked by 'retiring' the initial collar and procuring a second collar, as a way of saying this is not the same relationship they had, but was something new and different, based on a completely renegotiated relationship that started from as close to 'scratch' as possible.

In any case, I was taught the collar always went back to its owner, (the D). The one (often unstated) 'rule' in that though, was that as each collar was unique to the individual who wore it, each collar represented a particular relationship, and thus the now empty collar was never to be 'recycled' or worn by others.

A lot of these ideas related to collars of a somewhat different era, though, deeply personal collars that were custom pieces, often made by a D themselves, or by a club or bar artisan at the request of a specific person for a specific person. I'm not saying today's collars AREN'T, I'm just saying these ideas came from a specific time.

Piercing rings, bars, etc (a more recent issue in relationship endings) again, has everything to do with how the people involved related to them through the course of a relationship. If at the time of the piercing it was made clear that these were ownership rings, and symbols of the D, then at the relationship's close, I feel they are within their rights to ask their tokens back. Sure, you keep the piercings themselves, but if the rings were symbols of a particular person 'returning' them can be a very visceral symbol of ending. (Buying yourself your own set of rings and placing them in the holes can also be damn liberating/symbolic of 'self ownership'.)

Other Leathers; jackets, vests etc, were often 'earned' so they went with the s, as they had earned them. (There are a few exceptions, but they related to exceptional circumstances.) What I was taught was that when one started out as a s, you were entitled to your own boots, belt, denim, and in some communities vest. Everything else, jacket, chaps, armbands whatever, were either

A. explicitly gifts (now owned by the s)

B. earned (through special service to the community or the D, or through undergoing an ordeal and coming back changed)

C. or the D's property placed upon you and not to be removed until they took them off.

At the conclusion of a relationship, the D could take back what pieces of theirs they put on you, but pieces you had earned or that were gifts you could take with you. That's part of why it was important to understand when a piece of leather was being put on you at any point in the relationship whether it was the D's (thus their mark or symbol on you) , a gift that was yours to keep, or earned. Some of the more 'ritualized' aspects relating to Leathers themselves were about making it clear what the nature of the item you were being given, or being placed upon you was.

As for whips and other implements, I learned these were always the responsibility and property of the D- unless they were things you entered the relationship with (anything you came with, you could take).

Any tool that 'tasted blood' was completely unique to an individual s- and upon a relationship ended, they stayed with the D- never to be used again, not unlike the collar.

What this means as a practical matter is that just as I have love letters and other 'artifacts' from previous relationships, I have my ex's collar, and several tools that will never again be used on anyone.

As for whether such tools and symbols are kept individually, or shared immediately or eventually through places like the Leather Archives and Museum (http://www.leatherarchives.org/ ), or even burned as a means of symbolizing the release and end, these are all things to think about and perhaps even write into contracts preferably long BEFORE any end comes.

The other HUGE factors sitting in the middle of relationship endings, (that could take books, far more than any single e-mail post), are both the emotional dependency and loss an s feels at the end, upon no longer having that particular D in their lives, and the concrete 'real life' losses this can mean- i.e. lack of ownership of property or lack of their own credit rating, or retirement funds, etc those kinds of things that may or may not be 'side effects' of a relationship. In short the things that had they not been in a particular relationship they might otherwise have had.

(I haven't even touched on children in the middle of relationships, nor am I going to here, but it is something to think about now, BEFORE the possibility of a relationship end.)

The emotional isolation is a somewhat unique facet of our lives, and no number of friends etc can stand in for that now empty space where a D once was. That said, having a support network, and not being cut off from other friends etc in the first place is something to build into the life of any s- LONG before a break up. (This can also help prevent the s jumping at whatever 'next' D appears in their lives, just to fill that emptiness.)

As for the real world parts, caring about one's s during the relationship also means caring about one's s if the relationship should end. This means ensuring that while they may be owned, they aren't going to be left homeless and penniless at the end of two decades. It means real world things like a credit rating, like helping build 'real world skills' in addition to learning proper tea service. Etc.

As for those of us living the s end of the equation? It means no matter how in love we are, no matter how much we trust, we still make sure that we're not going to be completely out in the cold should the bad day ever come. That yes, we will still have friends, we will still be able to earn a living and rent a place of our own if need be, etc.

Even if we're so fortunate as to 'never break up', we may find ourselves responsible for the care of a longterm incapacitated D, or face the possibility of our beloved passing before we do. Not being useless, completely alone, or stuck is part of what need to take care of, now, in the day to day, not later.

(That's more than I expected to write, but it seems like the kinds of things I don't often hear passed along verbally or see in books.)

Pulling across some older writings & Writing Profiles

2007-08-22T08:11:00.000-04:00

Today, I'm going to move some of my older, other leather related writings across to this blog.

I've been going back through some of what I've written before now as we prepare to go to Floating World.

I'll start with a diary entry from July '06, I was faced with trying to write a short summary profile of myself for the final Ohio Leather Fest. This is not the profile, but the thought process that went into the writing;

Ever tried to summarize portions of your life in a few sentences?

No part of my life lends itself to summaries like that- yet that's exactly what I'm trying to get out digitally at the moment; a bio of sorts. So as usual, I'm stuck.

Worse, I'm not just trying to describe what I am, I'm also trying to set up some very basic gates of what I'm not, so as to avoid certain easily made incorrect assumptions about me. People tend to make all kinds of assumptions not merely based on their projections and what vibe the pick up on, but yes, in person I do actual intentionally wear certain symbiology under the right conditions- however, those signals may not equally apply to say for instance, all genders equally, etc. (That's a really opaque way of saying what I'm trying to express. Let's try that again... .)

Ok, so some examples- I wear a collar- that does not mean I'm monogamous. Sometimes I wear a black bandanna and my keys on the left (signaling being a 'Top' or 'Domme', for complete lack of language). Firstly, what people need to understand is that does not mean I will top YOU- just any ole you in just any ole situation. Further, it does not mean I will "Top/Domme" men- in actuality I almost exclusively "Top/Domme" womyn. Not confused yet? Fine. Just keep in mind, the next night I may well show up wearing my keys on the right, stilettos locked around my ankles, in full "bottom"/"property" mode.

Now ready for bonus round confusion? I've been known to wear a locked collar around my neck, keys on the left, with bandanna, and heavy flogger on my belt. What's it mean? Well I belong to my Sir, and it is by his permission that I have the freedom I want to express these ("Top"/"Domme") parts of myself. I never forget I am His, but I'm also free to be myself.

So how in the hell do I summarize any of the realities of my life, distilled down into something that makes any sense to others?

I've been accused (lovingly!) of having San Francisco "pansexual" sensibilities about these things. I find this hysterical as at times, as in some spaces SF is even more tightly wound up about role, and 'proper ways of doing things' than most people imagine. There are times SF tends to make me wanna run the opposite direction rapidly. But I can see how all these things that get tangled up into nice neat little parameters and boundaries on this coast, in some spaces and times just don't always shake out that way on the sunset coast. "Bi" and "S/switch" and "pansexual" communities SOMETIMES eeeeek out a bit more space in the community there than in other cities- if only because SF is where so many have run to.

At its most basic, labels, containers, properly defined 'identities' just break when held up to how I live my life.

But then, I'm still looking for spaces with Queer sensibility that could somehow deal with Sir and I (an opposite gendered couple) as something other than a 'heterosexual' couple. Neither of us identify that way- despite the fact that Sir only sleeps with womyn. Politically, and sexually- as Queer Nation always defined "Queer" both Sir and I are best filed there-under.

So here I am again, staring at a blank sheet of paper and trying for the life of me to define basic linguistic assumptions I use in describing my life- like Queer, that no one else really has anymore- if they ever did.

Even a simple websearch on "Queer Nation" will come up with some hits, but very little by way of how QN used that word. And that's a fucking travesty- as that was perhaps one of the largest and most important legacies of QN.

There's this void that surely SOMEONE should have that up by now, but no. So how do I write even a simple profile using words that the meanings of as I use them are not only not in common usage, but are not anywhere digital I can point people at? As always, it seems, in order to even do the most basic job of trying to communicate I need instead to put the 'building blocks' of how I use language up first- and that's not going to happen right now.

Then there are places where there just is no language. What's the word for a womyn who almost exclusively dominates other womyn? A womyn who almost exclusively serves not men, but one particular Sir? There is no language for the fact that my life-partner is an exception to my usual desires and practices. What are words beyond "Top", "Dominant", "Domme" etc? We need new and descriptive language more badly than I can possibly express.

Preparations underway

2007-08-20T16:50:00.000-04:00

So today's task was cleaning and polishing Sir's boots (and mine). I'm getting gear and tools ready to be packed, and so spending some time making sure his boots look their best was a priority. I find the slow, methodical working on something so concrete, that shows such measurable and immediate results very rewarding. It also puts me in a certain frame of mind, a focus, or concentration, very detailed and perfectionist. Caring for our leathers feels good.

I've ordered up a few odds and ends to help with the packing, or to organize, so hopefully, they will be at the mailbox waiting for us today. Honestly, I'm feeling somewhat overwhelmed by all that I need to do and get together before we leave for FW this weekend, but at the same time, it gives me something to work towards.

I'm also hoping my gift to Sir will have arrived, we'll have to wait and see.

The other small detail is that I've been working on 'cards' of a sort to hand out as the need arises. I'm not one much on 'business cards', particularly in these situations, but a calling card of sorts can be appropriate. So I've ordered some postcards from Japan, I have some ink stamps, I'm working up a small printed piece with my name and contact info, and I'll probably complete them with my hanko stamp. I can't quite anticipate how they'll be used yet, but having something on hand seems appropriate. I've been contemplating how much information to put on them, which information to put on them etc. As I said, it's a small detail, yet it feels important to get it some level of 'right'.

My work on all the small tasks relating to packing, preparation, etc are helping Sir continue some of other important work he's been doing, so right now anyway, I feel very 'of use' to him. Again, it's a good feeling.

Today was also special in that despite, or perhaps due to the rainy greyness outside, it's like mutual of Omaha's wild kingdom outside, birds and other critters everywhere! I've decided to take it as a bit of a 'positive sign' going into this.

Registered for Floating World

2007-08-11T22:42:00.000-04:00

We're set. We registered a few days before the deadline. I have both excitement and a certain trepidation. This will be the first event we've been to since the final Ohio Leather Festival (OLF). I'm slowly packing the gear and making preparations.

We've been talking a great deal about what it means that the "pro" community has interwoven so completely with with the more general community- particularly around events. It has changed so much from 'back in our day'. Add in the net and the publishing boom and cliched as it may seem, everything's different now. And it's all so public and accessible. I don't know that we're adapting well.

In any case, today has been good. I'm sitting here writing in my large padded cuffs, and we spent some time this afternoon doing WIITWD. (Yeah, I know, a "net term". I'm not thrilled, but I'm linguistically stuck.) We are still struggling to find language- "play" certainly doesn't cut it, but we have no word of our own for it.

In any case, now that the room is 90% together-ish, we're just starting to enjoy the tools at hand. I'm teaching (from the "bottom") certain things- certain touches, how much time it takes to process, different ways of using the tools, and how my body reacts. Sir is still very much in control, but the room has become a laboratory of sorts, where we can experiment, learn from that, and then go forward.

All these things are things that had the first decade been what normal kinky people do, we would have spent more time on long ago, but us being us, well, this is where we are right now. Lots of new tools to work with and learn what they are capable of of.

We spent time talking about some of the tools and the Artisans who made them and how some of them don't anymore, or have died. Shops have been bought, people have moved, things have changed a great deal, and much of it is not without a certain sadness. It is an honour to provide homes to such tools.

In a sense, it's not dissimilar to the point in Japanese tea ceremony where the guests learn the history of the objects, the Artisan who created the pieces, their age, where they come from. Sir and I and our collections now comingled, have a similar feel.

Along those lines, there is one last bit to report; I earned my jacket many years back- from Sir, but time has passed and we've both changed through the years. So, in prelude to the Floating World, Sir has procured a new jacket for me. While it will be odd to wear 'new leathers', unbroken in, new too is a milestone for us, and in this case, it's merely an update to more appropriate on a piece I earned long ago.

I have also gotten him a ten-year demarcation of sorts- a wide leather belt from Mr. S.. Sir is not particularly into the 'wardrobe thing', but this was an appropriate gift, and a way to mark our first decade together. "Look" is FAR less important to him than comfort, he is who he is and he has no one to prove anything to.

The really exciting news is that in addition to my jacket, Sir has also ordered a leather vest for me- although I've not earned it yet. I may or may not earn it before the event, either way, it is about us, not the event. I'm overwhelmed, and honoured. And most of all, I'm wondering what he has in mind! I can but daydream, hope, and look forward to what that process might be.

The Floating World, in New Jersey?

2007-07-23T02:28:00.000-04:00

Well, at least *A* Floating World of sorts.

Once it was decided that there would be no TESfest this year, various organizations got together and decided to throw an event of their own as a community event; by the community (not one group but many groups) and for the community.

Thus their modern (re-)interpretation of the Floating World of 17th century Japan has been transposed to New Jersey for the duration of the event. Floating World.

We are considering attending, have a hotel room booked etc- but still cancel-able.

Unfortunately, it's not as simple as all that for us, much as I wish it were. There are still certain, shall we say, psychodramatic aspects we are weighing under careful consideration.

* * * * * * *

It's now 24 hours since I wrote the above, and it's looking like we have both agreed- we will register for FW at some point this week.

I'm both excited and somewhat concerned. But ultimately, for both of us, our curiosity and our hope outweighs our trepidation.

Now all we have to do is prepare and hope for the best.

Sakishima habu- and an introduction of sorts

2007-07-23T00:54:00.000-04:00

波布

By way of introduction, below are several links containing information about Habu, and specifically, Sakishima Beauty Snakes:

Wikipedia
Everything2.com
Virtualginza.com

What does the snake have to do with me, the blogger, and this, the blog?

The vipers and I share certain personality traits, and habits. Further, I find it an apt name to use to camouflage my identity for purposes of this particular blogging.

So then, set to what purpose is "Slitherings?"

"Slitherings" will serve as a form of kink blogging/Leather journaling to me. I hope to use it as a place to corral ideas, reactions, responses, and memory into one place, online, where perhaps, almost coincidentally, others might from time to time find it of use. Primarily through, it serves as a first person account, and record of my own Leather journey.

So why name such a chronicle, and myself for that matter, after these serpents on the opposite side of globe? For many reasons. Not the least of which being, they are such beautiful "poison ropes".