Nightmares are also dreams Part 38

“Sir, Please pick for me.” She says.

And I, who was so carried away by the fantasy of watching these men, pause. These men not of her choosing. She looks at me calm veneer covering fright and I know that this fantasy is too far.

That if we were to make it happen something in us might break and while we would weather the storm, we would always be altered.

I’ve been watching the desecration of the videos that we have gathered from the Circle. Identifying peripheral members if our community, but at the same time…
Those images were seeping into me. And I allowed them to progress this far. It awakened in me a fantasy to watch my wife be taken by these men. Not as a cuckold but at my direction, at my behest.

And I see her now, in her submission, filled with fear and excitement. And I know she would dive into this scene but….it is my equal responsibility to call red when things have gone too far. And that is what I’ve done. Perhaps if we had selected and courted these men this would be different. Perhaps if we were at a sex club and not our home that would change the temper. But here and now, I can’t. At the core, I must safeguard those that are mine. Even if the person I must make them safe from is myself.

I point to two if the well muscled men and dismiss them with a wave of my hand. The third is the one that I wanted for myself. The one who smiles at me shyly from behind brown bangs and soft lips.

I stride across the living room, sliding my hand across his hip. Pulling him too me, the hard length of him pressing into my thigh. I press my lips to his. Seeking entrance with my tongue into him. The first penetration of his body. The first yielding of him to my will.

I break off our kiss by turn my head, his breathe heavy and warm against my cheek. I look at my Sara, her eyes alight with lust, and say, “I just thought of a third option.”

Nightmares are also dreams Part 37

I pull myself away feeling the rushing of the warm air to fill the gap between us. Still holding Tara’s hand, I guide her to the still steaming shower. A brief thought of the water bill and the chain to water conservation flashes through my mind. Considering the water table cistern proposal the Spire has considered building. All thought of such flees as the heavy spray pounds and splashes against Tara’s upturned breast.

She exults in the tumult and I slide closed the shower door. Her humming hushed by the glass.

I stand on the outside, looking through the glass as if watching a movie, then pivot on my heel and look over the beautiful pale skin of my Sara. The streaked red blonde hair giving testament to the ministrations of our love who frolics alone in the shower.

I hold out my hand and Sara rises to her feet. The soft creak of joints held in pose too long and the flush of embarrassment of this proof of age.

I pull her to me. Her nude body small against me. Her presence towers in the my mind but here, against me, I look down and see the top of her head.
I lean down and kiss her forehead.

“Come, my love, I have a treat for you.”

We walk into the bedroom. Her hand clasped in mine. I stop us by her dressing mirror and pull her collar off the hook and hold it out to her.

Sara takes it from me and, holding my eyes, cinches it around her neck. That soft thrill as she affirms my ownership of her thrums through me. Taking a ragged breath, heavy with desire, I reach over to her lead. I attach it and ball the leather around my fist. Then tug and half drag my slave-wife to the living room. The Saint Andrews cross is set up but what draws the eye is the row of leather clad heavily muscled young men.

Addressing Sara, “I give you the choice of instrument. Either these young men or the cross.”

She looks at me. The war of desire for the certainty of the cross vs the unknown of the men fights in her. I can read her thoughts of the discussion we had concerning multiple partners and the fear as she again realizes that I remember every discussion we have. And that any of it, given the framework of our agreement, would constitute an informed discussion.

With a shiver she replies, “Sir, please pick for me.”

Nightmares are also dreams Part 32-Interlude-Pel

Watching my girls play is the best part of my day. I spend time thinking about them. Wondering why I keep working. Why I keep taking ops. Why I keep doing this thing I do?

And then I remember. I remember the faces. The smiles. The jokes. The sorrow filled faces looking back at me, knowing that there isn’t anything left to do but die. My people.

I can lie to myself and pass them off as employees. As people who made choices. But at the end of the day, I’m the one responsible. I took the contract. I sent them into harms way. And I’m the reason they died.

People will say it’s the person who planted the bomb, pulled the trigger, or plunged the blade. And they’re right. They’re right. But it’s not a zero sum equation. And my choices, my intel, my signature on some piece of paper sent them careening into the path of the bullet and nothing I do makes up for that.

But what I can do is take care of their families. Take care of their legacies. And make better decisions in the future. But I can’t do that without money. And I can’t do that without resources. And really, this is the only life I know. So I take my joys where I can.

Take my girls and give them the chance at safety and joy and love. All while I know, my men and women are executing orders and placing themselves one step closer to that final sleep.

Sometimes the responsibility hits you out of nowhere. The crushing weight, briefly unbearable
Until something lifts you up.

Tara’s impish smile and Sara’s brazen grin. And the nods of the guards. Who know what happens when I go too quiet and my gaze slips distant. And remind me, life doesn’t stop. Best get to it.

An I could not endure heaven, I thrived in hell

Hells offer us safety that heavens do not
Life is a ongoing study in the loss of innocence and joy as one peace or another is cut away or slowly ripped out of us. In a hell we know the parameters. There will be horror, there will be pain, there will be fear. And very occasionally, there will be rest. And we will find the steel to endure in those seconds and minutes of peace.

In a heaven, having experienced both loss and being self aware, there is always the wait for the moment when it is ripped away. For the loss of love, joy, and safety.

It becomes that we choose to endure the hell. Because the thought of one more lost heaven destroys us more thoroughly than this endurance of durance vile.

The hearts we seek to mend must first be our own

On some level, I think we are all seeking for that person who will see us and accept us and know us bone deep and still wants to be a part of our lives. We all want to not be alone. And the people who seem to know this, are also the ones who have the hardest time finding someone.

It’s like consciously trying to swim. You paddle your feet, you cup your palms, you move your arms but still, you can’t seem to really swim. Because swimming is a physical, in your body, thing. And you can’t be one hundred percent in your body if you are thinking about how to move it.

And you can’t find that person who connects with you because it’s such a complex thing that you can’t set up a situation or plan a life that leads you there.

You can only be one hundred percent your self. And stop hiding. If you are hiding, you aren’t being.

And I’m aware that sounds like bullshit but give yourself a free pass to not be cynical. Not be practical. Give yourself a free pass to be free for just a minute.

The only thing you can do is be genuine. Let people see you.

I can’t promise you freedom from pain or that some of those people won’t hurt you, won’t use you.
I can only say that when the moment comes and you are hiding, it will be difficult for the person looking to see.

Waking lucid

Sip these last notes
Bitter though they be
Knowing the stanza ends
Knowing the next song you will choose
Knowing the next song you will play
Knowing that these next steps
Next choices will be informed
By what is in your heart now
Not fed out of necessity to keep living
But out of the need to be alive
It takes so long to arrive
So long to become
That when it’s time
Embracing it
Is the hardest thing to do
Fear is a guide
Weighing all consequences and only fear keeps
Then step forth
Embrace the brave heart
Step into a future without the confines of the same

Nightmares are also dreams, part 6: Tara

The heat void left by Pel getting up rouses me from my barely remembered dream of laying next to a fire. I snuggle into his spot. Still warm from him and close to Sara. I feel the soft muscle of Sara’s arm pull me to her, sliding me across silk to nestle close enough to feel her warm breathing tickle my still closed eyelids. I feel her feather touch. Soft fingers spread like a fan, drawing circles around my breast. My eyes open, awake now, and find the deep green of shaded forest staring into mine. I’ve seen this look before, her eyes flashing so deeply with desire they are practically black.

I lean in and devour her soft lips with mine, head tilted to the left. Pressure building to take more of her into my mouth. Tongue sliding over tongue, soft and fierce, fighting for more and more until I feel her hand squeezing and pulling my tit. I break awake, gasping for air. Gobbling breath. Her hand pulses like a heartbeat. I find myself on my back gasping, not sure how I changed positions.

Her nails graze against me sending shivers down spine and her mouth closes over my throat. Lightly biting down, claiming me as hers, her kill. I shudder needing more but she moves so slowly. Lips press their need against my chest and I gasp in surprise when her teeth close over my nipple right as her hand flicks my clit.

I fade out, almost to float, but her fingers plunging inside me shakes me loose. I panic, starting to struggle against her and my eyes fly open.

From the doorway, Pel is watching us. He’s holding two mugs in his hands, not drinking from either. He seems content to watch us forever.

I relax shocked back to reality. My girlfriend and my Sir. I’m safe and that thought gets blasted out of my head. Sara is biting and nibbling and her hand pulses inside me fingers splayed and caressing inside finding spots I never knew were there.

I fall into sensation, eyes closed against any distraction. Each time I feel teeth I whimper as a thumb drags slowly against my clit.

My lungs expand and contract, rough breathe spilling into the air, my body starts shuddering, and then soft waves of gold hammer through and out of me, again and again riding the edge of orgasm.

It’s too much and I can’t think. Lost in the float…

Some minutes later I hear water turning off, when did that happen? Sara is drinking from a cup and offers one to me.

I take the proffered gift and find it contains drinking chocolate. Pel made this…there is cayenne in it. Sara prefers to mix it with cream.

It is delicious but not what I want. I put the mug down on the nightstand with a metallic click.

I burrow beneath the covers and find the prize I’m looking for. The soft blonde sweetness of Sara. It smells of musk and vanilla with a hint of Pel from last night. I play the game Pel taught me. I lick a long slow A against the pussy lips of my…wife.

I’ll say yes. The last time they asked, I wasn’t ready. But yes, they are mine. I won’t give them up. But… Later. Now I need more and the soft moans of Sara whisper our rightness.

Confusion is a base state

I almost wish that my emotions didn’t run so hot.
That they didn’t rush like tsunami. Seemingly dry and nonexistent as the waters pull back, until they rush forward, overwhelming my heart. It seems like I only find those unavailable to me as people who make my heart burst like fire. But it’s not true. It’s just that those who are unavailable are often the only ones who show any interest in me. At least in a way that I recognize as interest. I can be obtuse in this regard.

I don’t know. I dislike not knowing. I love to know everything. How else will I see true if I cannot see all?

I wish I knew. Whatever paths led where. Even in general. Because I can’t trust my judgment. My judgment leads me to love and to breaking.

You know…I didn’t pick Morgan. She picked me.
It makes me wonder. Because every time I trust my judgment, while they don’t destroy me in harder ways, I’m still devastated. When it ends. When it fails.

I don’t know the way forward.

Annual state of progress

We delude ourselves.
We delude ourselves into believing that there is something there when there is no evidence of it. We do this because it’s something we need.

Lately, I’ve been asking the question. Why do I keep falling so deeply into love in these relationships where distance or emotional availability is primarily a problem?

Distance itself makes it hard. Distance means there is no pheromonal interaction. There is no opportunity for oxytocin bonding. Instead, only words, intellect, and small acts are available. And while that may work for a time, it never works long-term.

Put another way, you can’t kiss a video call or make love to a voice. You can only paint the picture and while that can sustain for a time, eventually you need to be in the same room.

I can read more from 5 minutes with someone from body language and tone of voice than I can from a hundred missives.

On the other side, I have intense emotional relationships who, through circumstances or nature are emotionally unavailable to take that next step.
In many ways, those are worse.

Long distance is a dream that I am well aware of the hazards of. But here and still distant?

My heart and mind can’t seem to let go in those instances.

So why do I keep falling for people who can’t or won’t love me. Either because of distance or other factors? Why do I pick people who I can’t have?

Perhaps, I feel like I am unworthy of love, having failed to protect Morgan. Perhaps, if I’m with someone who is a hundred percent in it with me, my imposter syndrome kicks in and I feel like I’m going to fail and let down the person I love and doing so is anathema. And as such it puts such enormous pressure on, that no relationship could withstand it.

I don’t know. That’s where I am in my headspace now. Trying to understand my choices. Because, I can’t change the minds of those I still love but who’ve moved on without me. But I can change my future choices.