Constantly tested

preparedI’ve been gone for a while. I kept wondering if I was coming back. I’m not sure that I am back. I had two Hallowe’en outfits to blog, but life got in the way, and then I felt no interest in SL. Truth be told this has partly to do with the fact that I now need to use a mouse with my laptop and don’t want to sit at a desk to recreate after sitting at a desk to work. Continue reading

Why I didn’t fight for us

rezdaylightTomorrow it will be three weeks since he ended our relationship in a snit of anger. My first top, my first rigger, gone. We were on the phone. I let him end it, didn’t protest it. “Why not?” I am asking myself now. Would things be different if I had told him we should talk it through when he was calmer? Prior to the phone call, we had had a number of extremely difficult conversations about play. In some of them I was alarmed, and one night I panicked, but I put the difficulty down to growing pains. His primary relationship (he’s poly) was falling apart, they agreed to take a break. He started to examine his life and decided he wanted to spend more time with me. As difficult as they were, our conversations were welcome because his self-examination was insightful, his self-expression so eloquent. I thought he was finally showing himself to me. I thought we were becoming more intimate. We were, and I couldn’t deal with what I found out.
I can’t speak for him. I can’t because he won’t talk to me, won’t text with me, won’t email me. I contact him every other day: I break down in a different way and try to convey to him how I feel and my need to talk to him. On Friday I sobbed into the phone, telling him that I feel abandoned and that I feel he wants me to think I’m a bad person. Today, the one-week anniversary of begging for exchange, I asked him if he would answer just one question: Did you really mean to end it when you ended it or were you just lashing out? I believe that we could have admitted that we aren’t compatible and split amicably. I also kind of believe that he made a fatal error and we should get back together. Which is an error of another colour.
scholarsn ightmareI’d been dissatisfied with the (handful of) scenes we’d done over the past four months, but it wasn’t until we had a sustained, seemingly affectionate and inspired, but ultimately fruitless, exchange of emails about future play possibilities that I realized the problem was not the scene itself. It was his need to control our interaction outside of the scene as well as inside it. This hadn’t been clear before now because our negotiations had been vague. When he opened up, I responded by asking that we negotiate fully. I started to tell him explicitly what I wanted. We emailed about what turned us on in non-sexual play. The exchange had wonderful positive moments, but in retrospect I realize that those were primarily affirmations of abstract principles of relationships rather than elements of our relationship.
I imagine that for some tops control means giving orders. For my top, control means saying no or withholding things. I discovered that he has four ways of saying no to my requests for scene activities. “I don’t play that way.” “That makes me a service top.” “I can’t pull [admired rigger] out of a hat.” “Don’t tell me to make you feel submissive.” That last one was hardest of all because, as I told him, he had done things in prior scenes that had made me feel submissive. “Put me in a submissive headspace” proved to be a more successful locution, but I could not see why it was necessary, and I could not understand why he refused to do what he had done before (hair pulling, leading me around the dungeon on a rope leash, pushing me into a squat or onto my knees at unexpected moments, nothing WEIRD). Although he said no to my requests in the emails, he did think about it and come through with some new possibilities for our next scene. Sadly, it was too late. By the time he brought them up, we had gone through an agonizing conversation. He freaked out before we could get to the dungeon: he believed I was planning to violate a new hard limit he had set. He trusted me so little that he would barely listen to me explain why I’d chosen one vibrator over another when packing toys for the scene. He was so upset that I couldn’t tell him that he had changed the limit since we’d agreed upon it the previous week, that he was now using a more expansive term, and that I sensed trouble ahead. Under the new term, I couldn’t use a bullet vibe, could only take pleasure when he offered it with the Hitachi, because that was a vibe that he would control. “What if I accidentally have an orgasm?” I asked. I can’t have an orgasm when anyone else is present in the room, so my impulse to ask that question demonstrates just how much the new limit threatened, in my mind at least, to lessen and eventually prohibit my sexual pleasure.
The conversation wound down and we left my place to go to the dungeon. But by the time we got to the curb he had set some kind of speed record in rejecting three more things I said I’d like to do. The certainty that had been building during the evening snapped into place. In a flood of tears and an avalanche of sobs, I told him I could not play with him that night. He was shocked and said nothing more than “okay,” and then, once I’d turned to enter my building, “I’ll wait for you to find your key.” I wanted him to embrace me, to help me sort out what was going wrong. But that doesn’t happen in real life. I tried to hug him goodnight but he returned my squeeze weakly. I will never forgive myself for freaking out. I should have stayed calm and suggested we go for a drink. I told him this when I realized it a week later. I don’t think he forgave me for walking away. I will never forget the shocked look on his ghost-white face, the look of a kid who has just been betrayed by his best friend. I wish I could tell him that I regret how much I hurt him that night. Even if he was being an asshole.
shuffle sad Things had been so fraught that when he got angry at me a couple of weeks later on the phone, it made no sense to ask him to think twice about ending it. And yet here I am today kicking myself for wanting too much too soon. I wanted our negotiation and play to change dramatically right away, just because I requested it. That was unrealistic. I myself had balked at the implications of the new wording of the limit, had resisted saying yes to it, because it compromised my sexual autonomy. This is something which a bottom typically surrenders during a scene. In theory I am willing to do it. But it’s clear to me that that is contingent on my top being willing to keep me aroused. I shouldn’t have waited so long to suggest we play differently, shouldn’t have stayed silent out of fear of offending him. I was new at this. He took pride in bringing me along slowly. I trusted him because of that. But my reluctance to spell out what I would like to do must have played into his need to control our relationship outside of play.
I also said a knee jerk NO when I rejected the submissive rituals he suggested because they were acts of service, and service is not what I mean by submission. (No one knows what anyone means by submission….) I told myself that I didn’t want to serve him by getting him water because I liked getting him water as a spontaneous act of care that I performed as my quotidian self, in my regular headspace, for his ordinary self, before scening. Truthfully, I didn’t like the idea of service because I associate it with those choking blow jobs I see in porn. Even a non-choking blow job is a hard limit for me, as is any kind of typical sexual activity. I believed that there is a difference between BDSM and sex and asserted that the former is erotic rather than sexual. It seems to me now that that was bullshit. And at this moment, in a new theory, my hundredth, I suspect that what wrecked us was an unwitting battle over sexual reciprocity. And that has always been a battle that I can’t win. Because I can’t come the way a man does. {More about that in BDSM isn’t sex, but it is.}

Credits
These photos were originally meant to complement my contribution to Strawberry Singh’s Yearbook Rez day challenge. See the collection of photos. See the challenge.
NEW All the Moon Elixir items are from Fantasy Gacha Carnival till June 7:
Moon Elixir – Coven – 10 – Maitreya – Bustier – Dusty Rose
Moon Elixir – Coven – 13 – Maitreya – Shorts – Dusty Rose
Moon Elixir – Coven – 20 – Maitreya – Boots – Dusty Rose
Moon Elixir – Coven – 7 – Maitreya – Arm Wraps – Dusty Rose
Maitreya Mesh Body – Lara V3.5
!dM MataHari – jewelPastie (add) **LOTUS** (past gacha)
*BOOM* The Illustrious Sproket Strand Rose Gold (not available)
MONS / MESH – Septum Rings (style23) rosegold
NEW Moon. Hair. // Tin Foiled II Hysteria pack
-Glam Affair – Sasha skin – India 01 NB (past gacha)
Nox. Beauty Marks [Four]
[KOOQLA] Nico – beauty marks tattoo
.random.Matter. – Misery Brows (tintable)
{S0NG} :: Chibi~ Abyss Eye
pose prop: Glitterati, Schooled (on Marketplace)

Steam and sheen

poised Now that I don’t feel a rush to blog new items I have become an inept photographer. For three of my last four posts I have had to do two shoots. Deciding that the first one is terrible, I do a second that is no better. If I were trying to honour a commitment to a creator I would do the shoot and post it even if I wasn’t ecstatic about my work. The one upside of being unsatisfied is feeling driven to find a setting better than the one in the first batch of pix. Did you know that you can tag a sim with BDSM and steampunk and the grid doesn’t groan or grind to a horrified halt?! On my first night shooting the new Yayoi top and skirt by r2 A/D/E, Portia visited the classy German BDSM club Cafe SMerte. The furnishings are all beautiful leather pieces and the space itself is more of a re-purposed factory rather than a pinioned and pistony pleasure machine. That reminds me, if you don’t like the modern sybians you’ve encountered in other sex sims, you should check out the lovely olde-fashioned version plonked at the feet of one of SMerte’s leather club chairs. Continue reading

Undeserving

nopenopenope Vulpinetta wrestles in a kinky circus called erm…. Hmmmm. I’m not good with fiction. Let’s start again, getting straight to my account of a difficult scene. It’s not safe for work. Continue reading

Dastardly

tiltahwilr This new makeup called Back to Black 2 is from Sopha Portal of MUDSKIN, and it comes in Pinky Tan, Native and India skin tones. There is also a TMP version. Continue reading

Beastly

belle's rose necklace The latest round of Enchantment is upon us. Beauty and the Beast is the theme. No. 7 designer Shortcake Sugarplum has fashioned a dramatic necklace made of a crimson rose and creamy pearls. Like any other Enchantment item, Belle’s Rose Necklace contains a stamp card that will allow you to choose a gift from No. 7 or from another creator participating in the event.* If anything, No. 7’s gift item for the Beast is more feminine and glamorous than Belle’s necklace. It’s as close to genderqueer as the Beast is to speciesqueer. Speaking of, Valentine’s finds me in the mood for romance this year because there’s actually someone I’d like to cuddle with. Ours is by no means a love affair. Between the polyamory and the twenty years age difference and the competition over who’s dominating whom, it’s a volatile thing. Then there’s his personality. The other day I told Mr. Cuddle-bunneh, who was getting a bit bossy, that he should think of me as a barn cat, completely self-sufficient and independent and not about to eat the dry food he was touting. He wanted to know how he fit into this scenario. I explained that he is the horse with whom I have formed one of those surprising cross-species friendships. “You share your sugar cubes with me,” I said, “and let me play with your long black tail.” “What about my big white cock?” he asked. I was not about to give him satisfaction, so I reminded him that he is better off as a stallion than a human, since an extremely well-endowed male is the only creature I would deign to ride.

*It’s more complicated—but no more expensive—than that sounds. Find more details.
No. 7 @ booN/Saikin, Belle’s Rose Necklace for Enchantment (ty Sweetie!)
Plastik, Izrahli skin (may not be available any more)
Maxi Gossamer, Fairy Pearl Cuffs
Rowne, Agnes hair (previous group gift)
pose: Glitterati, Boobtacular (only on Marketplace)
location: Opium

The cyborg wore panties

lara's undies I made a mistake, spending a bundle on some fancy *oUvUo* panties made only for The Mesh Project body, which Portia has never worn. I messed about with the free basic TMP body and realized I’d have to buy a skin to match the body unless I wanted Portia headless as well as topless. I could have gotten away with showing the undies on the default body, GIMPing the gaps that just would not slider away. But I’m a perfectionist, so I decided that this was the perfect excuse to hop on the mesh bodywagon. Why did I buy Maitreya’s Lara? Price. And the Glam Affair association. (My inventory is like a Glam Affair glam affair. But that’s partly because Birdy, my fave, stopped making skins. Please come back little Birdy.) Continue reading

I’m a blogoholic

Gatsby2I’ve been doing a lot of blogging lately because I’m lonely. In November and December I kept myself company by watching dozens of the Dr. Who episodes available on cable TV to mark the fiftieth anniversary. Even viewing the horribly miscast C. Eccleston was better than being alone in a silent room. I lost my best friend and lover four months ago, but I foolishly allowed myself to hope that he’d come back. It’s only in the last week that I’ve been forced to face the reality and deal with the pain of both the abandonment and the loss. And there’s no Dr. Who to help me now.

Continue reading

Even cuter azz

Here there be breasts. Continue reading