We live internal lives which only tangentially coincide with the person you know
There are always pieces held back
To be accepted
Exposure to disbelief or mockery
Hide truth like razorblades
Close to the skin and cutting
Blood rivers too slight to kill
Trails through the snow
We turn away
Looking for truth
handing out blood apples
Hoping and fearing to be seen
Screaming too loud to not be silent
Better silence than courted by correction
Forced back into standard
To fit in
“I just thought of a third option,” Pel says, his eyes
swimming in darkness.
I see in Pel a deep hurt. Like a stab wound so sharp you don’t realize its killing you until its too late.
I’m his. His slave. His. And yet, always he stops. Always, just short of his full desires. And I know that I will always want to go deeper than he is comfortable with. He’ll pass it off as protection. As if this scenario isn’t something we have worked out and so is off the table. I suspect he’s been watching the footage they took off the Circle. And that there is a dark part of him that desires what they did. And really, everything they do is within scope. It’s the human trafficking, nonconsent, and the permanent breaking of the people that is at issue. Not the activities, not really. But he sees them as monsters. And since he desires what they do, he seems himself as monstrous. And he is anything but that.
My only limit I have for him is that he is comfortable with what we do. So, I’ll let this slide for tonight. But…I would have taken those three men. Would have put on a show and begged and pleaded. Would have thrown myself completely into it. It’s something I fantasize about. Something I know Pel thinks about. Something we both wanted. But here we are. Back in safety with only one other partner and one which is mostly for Pel. It’s incredibly frustrating and completely Pel. For every four steps deeper we go, there is always this moment where he walks us three steps back. He’s so deep in his own head that he fakes himself out. That deep thinking also leads to some epic sessions and surprises. Like the raven scar he created for our anniversary. Like vetting Tara and surprising me with her inclusion at work.
After this, we’ll need to have a talk. Not about what he can do, but about how disappointed I was that he chose just one. Plant the idea that it will be acceptable for more. And reinforce the idea that he can’t break me. That I’m already his. Body, mind, and soul. And we’ll dance forward again, and we’ll get closer to the edge that I know he wants.
I hip sway over to Pel and reach out. At the last minute, I grab our new friend and push Pel away. I growl, “Me first.” Then shove my hand down the mans pants and grab his cock.
I know I need to push Pel to get what I need tonight. All so that when I am hurting with the delicious ache of his righteous wrath, and he is beginning to feel guilty, I can act contritely. And he will know that he did right. And maybe that he could have pushed much further.
I see now that I’ve managed to push Sara into business mode. Shifting her personality a few degrees to command rather than submissive. Though, truthfully, she’s not the type to be submissive in all things. But generally on scene days she is able to let go enough to be in the moment.
I suppose the fear of being outed to her parents and oh so conservative family is enough to make her put on a different personality to combat that fear.
I gather a few ‘props’ for the photo shoot from our toy chest, depositing them into individual dark bags that are padded so that you cannot tell what is contained within. These will be used as punishments or inducements during the shoot.
I take them out to the living room which has been taken over by the team which normally handles disguises and document creation for the ‘Spire. They have Sara in a chair and are working on making the nest of her hair into something photo worthy. Once that is done they will do her makeup and we’ll almost be ready.
It is interesting that she chose the outfit she did. But perhaps she didn’t want to stray too far from the feminine. She is well aware that I would have accepted her in a suit and that would mean less makeup, generally. And less hair manipulation.
In any case, I can see the change in her demeanor if nothing else. It’s as if her makeup and hair is armor. And perhaps it is. I’ll be called upon to say perfection or beautiful but as long as she is confident and being herself she will always be pretty. And her beauty is all about her spirit and intelligence. The truth is, I will pass judgment on aesthetics alone and leave my too biased emotions out of it.
Plus, well…anyone is lovely sporting willingness and a ballgag.
We’ll have to wait and see about the willingness. But the collar, the chain, and even the ball gag. Those are not negotiable.
When I meet and interact with someone I automatically am taking in their mannerisms. I listen to what they say, how they say it, and the bits of truth they give about themselves in normal conversations which are small and without seeming significance. What I’m consciously and subconsciously doing is building a picture of who the person is. Not just on what they say but what they do, how they move with and through the world.
That’s all ongoing. So when I ask someone out, while I may not know the specifics about the person, I do know them. So it will then seem as if I fall in love quickly. Like “I don’t even know you”, but really I knew enough that I would risk my heart.
I also think that monogamistic thinking plays a role here. In monogamistic thinking, if someone loves you then they are placing you at the pinnacle of their heart with no room for anything else. That’s a scary focal point to be at.
But here’s the thing. I’m poly. And while I may not be with multiple partners being poly is more than a lifestyle choice, at least for me. Like being pansexual, it is a orientation. My brain and thought processes function differently. When I love, yes I love completely, but there is no pinnacle. You are in my heart, surrounded by my love, and while I can be laser focused, it works better when my focus is diffuse.
I suppose what I’m saying is that my thought processes follow patterns which may seem familiar. Ones which may remind you of some past experience. And I won’t say that the experience is wrong, but I will say that when dealing with individuals and not trends, it is better to be aware both of internal bias and the knowledge that false positives will be present.
When one thinks of an enemy, one should not think of them as less than human. Calling them slurs or railing against them, calling them trash helps to dehumanize them. It makes it easier to harm them. I get it. But it is a mistake.
When we dehumanize our enemies we erode our sense of their capabilities. We convince ourselves by rote comparison that because they are trash, they couldn’t or wouldn’t take a action or make a plan or think a thought. It narrows our view of what is possible and doing so narrows our options to combat them.
An enemy who is thought of as human can be seen as having all of the same complexity as we do. When making plans, one must take into account that there will be counter moves and unanticipated actions. Seeing them as equal to yourself allows for these actions to be at least counted if not accounted for.
Tactically, it is the right course.
But, it is also the correct course for our mental well-being. When we dehumanize, the consequences of our actions ‘in the moment’ become easier. However, when we have time to think later, those mental gymnastics have real world consequences. Either by cutting yourself off from your emotions or by making empathy for your fellow humans much harder.
The best course is to think of everyone as a feeling, thinking, equal person, First. And anything else that they may be second. It’s a hierarchical way of thinking that may be difficult but it helps. Because there is also the flip side. When we contemplate moving against them, we no longer see them in the position or place they are in, rather we see them as human. And humans are fragile.
In the end, thinking of your enemies as human also forces you to think of everyone as human. This helps. In many everyday ways. It also helps to realize that the things we tell ourselves about ourselves and each other have real emotional and rational impact on how we view the world and ourselves. Discounting this leads to underestimation. And the downfall of self.
I noticed this for the first time today. It’s something I knew. But something I just took on faith. That of course that is how I see it. And it’s a pretty simple revelation. If realizing that the thing you thought all along is really the way that you think can be considered revelatory.
So what was it?
Pretty simple. If I am emotionally invested in a person then I just see them. What I mean is this: I notice changes but only so that I can compliment them. I notice changes so that I can cement the image of who they are right now in my heart. But then I discard it. It’s not relevant and on a day to day basis I just see them. If I found them attractive before then I continue to find them attractive. Who they are is the thing I like. Who they are is where my emotional attachment and, as a result, how I perceive them. Why is this just coming to light?
A Acquaintance level 2 and a Friend level 1 both have lost weight recently. Both lost enough to effect their physical appearance. One drastically. But I don’t see it. Or rather it’s not relevant for me to consciencly notice. I saw a side by side comparison of one of them and I thought wow they lost a bunch of weight. But when I see them in person, it doesn’t enter my conscious mind.
So I just don’t see primarily cosmetic differences. I’m happy if they are happy. Who they are hasn’t changed. They are more confident but I always saw them as more than they accepted of themselves. So it’s just good that they are coming to realize that.
I know, it’s odd to see and think like this. What can I say, but that if you are not examining the why’s and how’s of your thinking, then how will you become the self you are trying to be?
For some perverse psychological reason unknown to me whenever one of my relationships ends, I become intensely and nigh continuously turned on. It’s like some gleeful imp in my brain is capering and laughing as the internal tension ratchets up. “Now that you have no outlet,” he barks, “here’s a cauldron full of lust.” My brain is such an asshole.