Late Summer/Early Autumn

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.

Collars of leather and a 'collar' of metal

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.

Seeing Herself

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

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.

Our anniversary

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.

Corsetry

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.

A post on ending Leather relationships

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.)