Lately the boyfriend and I had a couple of difficult talks. The deadline, of which we talked about before, has been eliminated. We both saw that how we were doings things now, did not have any results. We have not have sex for 17 months, which is very long. And there does not seem to be any progress, which is not for lack of trying from the both of us.
So now I have freedom. Nothing has happened yet, and I don’t know if anything will happen in the near future, because I don’t have many easily available options. Maybe I’ll try to go out more (there seems to be a gay sauna in the neighbourhood, which has mixed evenings every once in a while), maybe I’ll try finding someone online (hmm, changing my OkCupid account to more available might not be a bad idea), maybe I’ll try to meet up with nice guys from the past (although their number is very small, and the nicest candidate turned monogamous, sadly enough).
Anyone any tips on increasing the size of my little black book?
And not just with male options?
got the picture from here, and yeah, the comments are quite offensive and stupid, but the brochure is great!
Next year (which starts after summer, counting in study-years) is going to be different. Yesterday I heard I’ll be on the board of the local student union. I was pretty nervous about this, because it is something I really want to do, and there was always the possibility they would have found someone else for the job. But I got it. It is a full time function, and I’ll probably be vice-chair. Next year will therefore be full of working together with amazing people (2 of the 4 other people on the board I already know, and they’re from our local action committee, that I managed the past 6 months), learning new skills, learning a whole lot more about myself, and loads of activism for the good cause of high quality and widely accessible education. And of course for enough housing for students, a green campus (both in the tree, as in durability), and attention to possible discrimination of minorities.
Moneyslavery is one of the stranger fetishes under the big bdsm-umbrella. Usually it consists of a submissive guy who likes spending money on a dominant women (but of course, all genders can apply to each role). Often the money is spend on lingerie, clothing or shoes. Sometimes also on dinners (e.g. where she has a large expensive meal, and he has just a salad), other items than mentioned above, or is it just cash what’s being spend, which can also been transferred through a bank instead of physically given. Often the guy does not want anything back, not even seeing the women in the clothing he bought; it’s the spending money on her in itself that gets him off. Sometimes the fact that she will wear the lingerie which is bought by him while being with someone else, is even more exciting for the moneyslave. This aspect is related to cuckolding.
Where this blog started out to document changes, mainly on the field of sexuality and relationships, and a bit on mental health and physical health, it soon became a place where I also got involved in discussions on feminist topics and reflections on things like postsecret, and the health-part got a bit out of the picture. Lately here was still some on my personal ups and downs, some on bdsm and poly, but the original goal of the blog seems to be lost. This is not problematic to me, it just shows that people evolve over time. But I’d still like to do a recap.
Bondage rocks. I have been loving ropes since the beginning of my bdsm-career, but I never had partners who had a lot of experience in this field. I started anew with at least three people, so more extreme stuff than a harness, binding of breasts and tying together wrists had never happened.
I was being made to twirl in circles, and swinging back and forth. She discovered that I squeel when being hit hard enough with a wooden spoon, and I discovered that being stroked with a fox-tail is incredibly nice and soft. The most difficult thing was breathing, unexpectedly, especially because the rope around my hips kept sliding to my belly. Because of that, it did not last as long as I would have ideally liked.. I was taken back to the ground, the ropes went off, and after a big hug, I went back into the real world again, with friends and chinese food.
The afterparty of a big meeting of a group of poly people. The people who keep lingering are not just poly, but also into bdsm. You bind my wrists together, to see what effect is has on me, since I mentioned that ‘just a little rope makes me go fuzzy’. The discovery that you can now take me around the room with me just following, seems to be very exciting to you. You bind me to the fridge in the corner of the room, to the bicycle pump, to a pot of milk on the stove. I have to kneel, to sit straight, which is remarkably difficult if the situation is so absurd and unexpected that I can only get into steeps of laughter.
The box, yes the box. In which I end up with my head and shoulders, on my hand and knees, with my butt sticking out. Very elegant. With an icecube on the bare piece of my back. You make me guess what it is, and I name every kind of food that could possibly have come from the fridge of a vegetarian. I try not to think too much about the position I am in. There are four other people in the room besides us, and although I see two of those as friends, and the other two seem nice enough as well, this is a humiliating position. Although this would probably have induced the same feelings if we would have been just the two of us. I’m not sure if you shove the embarrassment in my face a bit more, but it would have fit the pattern.
I think I have to take the step: the boyfriend and I should start planning sexual encounters with each other. Because just going with the flow, even with pointers from my sexologist, is not helping. At least, not enough. It has been a year since we had intercourse, and in the past year there have only been three or four instances where we were really sexual with each other with genitals involved. There has been some bdsm-play, but even that was relatively limited, to about once every two months, maybe a tiny bit more. So a new step should be taken, and planning to make time for sexual contact is a part of that.
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