Christmas Bunny

The Nesting Partner Doesn’t Always Win

September 19, 2020 By Christmas Bunny Leave a Comment

poly family, ethical non-monogamy — via stock.adobe.com

We live in interesting times, which happens to be less than awesome for most of us. We’re experiencing levels of anxiety and stress that our bodies may not be accustomed to. We have uncertainty and fear, and some days it is a struggle for us to accomplish basic tasks.

What then of kink? And non-nesting partners? Is there any space for that in all of this?

I believe there is, but it can be difficult to achieve the head space for the first, or to have the additional energy required for the second.

Having relationships requires energy. We give up some of our energy reserves in order to invest in getting to know others or hearing about how their lives are. When we have high stress levels and we are hearing about high stress from partners, it can be a challenge to keep our heads above water.

Someone who does not live with a shared partner may be experiencing some feelings of jealousy or loss right now. It may seem desirable to have someone there for comfort, but we don’t always account for how these emotions can affect a relationship. It can be an odd shift to consider that partners who do not live together may have an easier time scheduling time for the fun things than those who do.

Partners at home have to push through those pulls of life, like dishes and children, dogs and laundry, and the little frustrations that pile up on any given day. We may have planned to do fun kinky things together, but the odds are good that when the time comes, one or both of us will be too tired to scrape up the interest. Because outside partners are getting a specifically scheduled time, energy is often fresh when they meet up. This means the likelihood of them being able to follow through with the fun kinky things is much higher. Watching that partner get the thing that is desired but rarely received can create feelings of inequity in a nesting partner, particularly one who does the laundry and finds oneself hanging the now-clean rope to dry that was likely used on a meta’s crotch.

What is the solution, though? Understanding the issue doesn’t make energy suddenly appear from nowhere, or stir up desire that has been tamped down by stress and fear. Perhaps the way to solve feelings of inequity in this area can be to schedule with nesting partners the way we schedule with partners outside of the home. When we were used to making kink time together by going out to a dungeon before, that option no longer exists, at least not in a way we personally feel is safe.

Perhaps reaching out to our local dungeon owners whose properties sit empty of patrons, monthly rent continuing to rack up, would be happy to allow a pair of patrons to borrow their location and equipment for an hour for a special night out. Perhaps, as a friend of our suggested, creatively scheduling an exotic meal out, by exploring recipes or takeout from a particular culture, creating ambiance with sounds or music from the same culture, and dining in Paris for a night before getting one’s kink on might be just the right touch.

It is important that we explore creative options to continue to show the people we love they are special. It isn’t always enough to just be the stressed out warm body in bed with them at night. At some point, this life of fear and uncertainty has to end, and it is the goal that our relationships haven’t ended before that.

Christmas bunny has been exploring kink since she was legal to do so. Her serious writing started in college, where she accidently got some of her papers published in educational journals. She has recently expanded her writing to include her kink journey. She began writing in the physical realm, but shed some of her inhibitions and began sharing those entries with others. She now keeps an active blog of her personal growth and her relationship with her Master / Daddy Dominant and writes helpful educational posts on a variety of subjects.

Erotica: Photo Session

September 12, 2020 By Christmas Bunny 2 Comments

wet woman in white tank top — via stock.adobe.com

Mona shifted her bag nervously from hand to hand. She’d been crushing on this particular photographer since first seeing her work shared on Instagram. She did gorgeous erotic sessions as well as marketing shoots for local kink vendors, and their recent casual friendship had Mona hoping for more. They’d negotiated boundaries for this shoot more thoroughly than Mona ever recalled negotiating pick-up play scenes, but even so, she was nervous, and a tight ball of anticipation rested low in her stomach.

An assistant finally answered the door, escorting Mona back to the photographer’s lair in the back of the house. They had a partial water setup included today, and Mona’s steps quickened as she wondered how it would go.

Innocently was the best word for the first half hour. The assistant busied himself, occasionally disappearing for several minutes at a time, while the photographer set her equiment for a test shoot. Brusquely, she asked Mona to take her place to begin the session. “Panties?” she asked. Mona blushed a little and squeezed her knees together, shaking her head in the negative. “Good, you followed instructions,” came the distracted response as the shutter began to click, capturing the alluring combination of embarassment and arousal.

“Now flirt with me,” came the first instruction. Mona looked puzzled and began to open her mouth when the photographer stopped her. “With your body,” she clarified.

Mona leaned back onto her hands, dancing her knees slightly apart, flashing glimpses of bare cunt under an indecently short dress. The photographer clicked the shutter quickly, adjusting position around Mona as she worked.

“Harder nipples,” came the next command. Mona pinched them through her skater-style dress, but despite the coolness of the studio space, they didn’t harden.

“Can you help me?” Mona asked shyly. The photographer silently handed the camera to her assistant, who continued shooting photos as she kneeled next to Mona, pinching her nipples roughly and plucking at the bars in them. Mona found herself shifting with the beginnings of arousal, but her pierced nipples remained uncooperative.

With a small noise of frustration, the photographer bent her head and placed her mouth directly on the stubborn buds. The sucking came hard and immediate, and Mona’s nipples began to respond. The photographer bit solidly behind the bar, and that took Mona’s nipples the rest of the way to rock-hard. She moaned quietly into her closed mouth, trying to maintain some degrees of professionalism despite the hungry mouth on her nipple. She vaugely heard the shutter clicking as her head fell back and she wantonly pressed the nipple more firmly into the photographer’s mouth. “That ought to do it,” the photographer said, distantly, reclaiming the camera from the assistant, who had been shooting photos the whole time she’d worked up some decently sized wet patches on the font of Mona’s dress.

Mona rubbed her bare thighs together slightly, immagining that mouth a little lower. Another command came, “Turn over and offer me sex without speaking a word.” Mona shyly raised to her knees, dress still ruffled from her earlier shifting. She played with the hem of her dress, teasingly flashing even longer glimpses of bare pussy than before. Mona dropped to hands and knees, the skirt hitching up over bare ass, totally exposing her. She arched her back and slid her knees slightly apart, teasing with what she had heard was quite a lovely bare cunt. She reached a hand back and covered it briefly, glancing flirtatiously at the photographer from over her shoulder, then took a slap of opportunity, the sound of bare skin being slapped ruined by moisture already pooling under her hand. With a flush, she quickly withdrew the hand, sitting back on her heels and letting her knees slide outwards until she rested her pussy almost on the floor, still glancing back over her shouder every so often. The shutter clicked furiously as the photographer recorded each moment.

“Such a wet little pussy,” she murmured. “I can see it from here. Take the dress off and show me that body, naughty girl.”

Fuck. Mona had already been turned on, but being called a naughty girl just hit the accelerator on her excitement. She slowly pulled the dress off over her head, the flush of arousal evident between her legs. The photographer shot photos from all the angles, being sure to capture Mona’s swollen cunt.

She handed the camera off again. “Are you ready for the fun part?” she asked. Mona nodded her continued consent as the photographer held one finger up menacingly, then dropped it down to touch Mona’s clit lightly. The whirr of the shutter continued as the photographer expertly rubbed wetness into every crevice of Mona’s wet little slit, and she rocked her hips against the finger in response. “Lay back,” came the next command, and she obeyed with haste. A tongue began firmly probing Mona’s clit, and she began to see stars. The photographer began adding spanks and slaps, creating ripples of flesh. She reached a hand out as if demanding something, and didn’t stop what she was doing until an object was placed there. She began using a crop on Mona’s ass and thighs, mouth still pleasuring the wet little nub at her core.

The crop must have had a special handle. Its direction was reversed and slid into Mona, and in that manner she was alternately spanked and fucked with the handle until she was crying for release. Mona trembled and made glorious sounds at her treatment, not daring to believe she was finally in the hands of her idol, with hours left to come.

Erotica: Through The Door

August 30, 2020 By Christmas Bunny 2 Comments

sexy female submissive getting blindfolded — via stock.adobe.com

Candy pressed light fingertips against the door. The sounds were unmistakable. She knew exactly what this was.

Still without touching anything but her fingertips to the wood, she imagined the scene inside.

That sharp clap with no echo or repeats – it was definitely a face slap. The muffled moan following was sure to indicate its recipient was on their knees sobbing a bit. The squeal directly on the heels of the sobbing would be when the insistent demand of fisted hair yanked her out of her shocked self-indulgence.

Candy lightly pressed her ear to the wood, hoping the echoing sounds would become clearer with more contact.

The next loud grunt suddenly muffled was Ms. Shocked being unceremoniously tipped onto her face via the gripped hair. Ass in the air, the beating would commence. Floggers would rain their many tails down upon their hapless victim. Canes would leave distinct impressions in their wake. Weighted gloves would replace tools, since Candy knew he preferred to use a more hands-on method to achieve his full satisfaction.

Slaps would drag texture across Ms. Shocked’s body. Punches would solidly sink into areas cushioned by fat, bounce slightly in more muscular sections of the targeted zones.

Candy hovered, ear and hands barely pressed to the door. She squeezed her thighs together as her breathing quickened slightly. She was living the experience in unison with its object. She didn’t allow herself to imagine the bottom inside as anything other than a vessel.

What sounded like a grunt followed by wet slapping was him sliding his cock inside that naughty cunt, dripping excitement from its rough treatment.

Candy struggled to hear more, dropping to the ground to listen at the crack umder the door. The smacking sounds intensified and she felt her nipples harden. They pressed against the floor as she quietly contorted against the door frame, struggling to catch every nuance.

It grew quiet and she unsteadily rose to her knees, wondering how to end this awkwardness and march in, moist pussy betraying the angry words she planned.

As she kneeled at the door, hand upon the wall to balance her rise, the door opened suddenly at her nose. A hand gripped her hair, tilting her head back and obscuring her view into the room and any other possible occupant. A cock worked its way into her shocked mouth, effectively silencing her half-formed protest, echoing her imagined fantasy as eerily as if it had all happened before.

It began again.

The Power Of Power Exchange

August 16, 2020 By Christmas Bunny 3 Comments

sexy, muscular male submissive bound — via stock.abobe.com

Power exchange is one of those terms which is classified under kink, but often carries no clear visible representation. Impact leaves marks, and is something you can see someone perform. Needles, rope, knives, even exhibitionism, these are all things the eye can see. Power exchange, in contrast, is a quiet kink, and one which does not leave visible reminders of its presence in a relationship.

Once you delve into the world of power exchange, there are a myriad of ways it can be incorporated into a relationship, whether casual or more intense. On the less invasive side of things, it can be reserved for scene or bedroom time, and can be present without involving other things typically thought of as “kink.” It doesn’t require sadism to be present, and doesn’t have to interfere with outside life. On the other end of things, a relationship can be fully immersed in power exchange, to the point of Total Power Exchange, or TPE. It is also completely possible to achieve something in the middle which is a negotiation of which situations will include some type of agreed-upon power exchange between individuals. I have seen these referred to as levels, and more specifically, broken down into five levels: conditional compliance; restricted ongoing acquiescence; provisional submission; the covenant of dominance and submission; and absolute ownership.

Starting at power level one (I jest), it isn’t difficult to incorporate some power exchange into individual scenes. Conditional compliance is associated with a single session or brief period of time and would only include negotiated activities within the scope of the exchange. It could include everything from following commands to kneel, stay still, or even to ask permission for boons such as orgasms, or be limited to specifically negotiated areas.

With restricted ongoing acquiescence, power exchange negotiations may be put into effect as with conditional compliance, but only be in play during specified sessions, such as with ongoing play partners who have power exchange elements in their regular time together. Those elements may be in effect during scene time only without requiring renegotiation, due to an agreement that those elements be in effect during their scene time together.

Provisional submission involves one partner giving greater control to the other, well, provisionally. This may be the stage wherein partners experiment with different aspects of control over various areas in order to determine what is working for them and what is not. These areas may have time limits, such as “we’ll try me choosing all of your clothing for the next two weeks to see if that is something we’d like to incorporate into our permanent relationship negotiations.” It may also refer to a longer term power exchange which exists outside of scene time, and yet remains fundamentally a play partner arrangement at its core.

A covenant of dominance and submission may involve a contract or may be a verbal agreement. It generally refers to a long-term agreement which exists outside of scene time, and involves other aspects of daily life, as negotiated. It could be control in areas of finance, social relationships, or daily activities, in addition to agreements surrounding any scenes which may occur. The participants may want a 1950’s style household and be disinclined to participate in other forms of kink play, or they may have a female-led relationship with an entire trunk full of kink implements, or whatever relationship format works for the participants.

Absolute ownership may also be referred to as a TPE. While the title generally speaks for itself and includes truly invested participants, it does not necessarily mean one party has to actively be in control over every aspect of their partner. Even TPE relationships often include negotiated areas which do not require permissions be granted, mostly because to be required every time another human needs to make a decision would be a full-time occupation, not practical for working humans who may not be available to make those at the drop of a hat. Some of it is about convenience. If you want to negotiate a power exchange with a partner which includes always being required to have permission for certain activities, say bathroom usage since everyone has to do that, then unless you are available every time they need to, such as in the middle of a work day, or even in the middle of the night if they drank too much tea at dinner, then you may need to reserve certain times which do not require permission. For example, the rule may be “I am available at all times to grant permission to use the bathroom, other than between the hours of 11 pm and 7 am. You will request and wait for the request to be granted at any other time of day,” or whatnot. Most of the power exchanges I have encountered, both my own and that of others, rarely want to deal with that sort of micromanagement, and only require that permission be granted if it interrupts an in-progress activity or conversation, as that is considered a matter of courtesy rather than a rule about requiring permission for bathroom usage. A better way to think of it may be as having underlying functions which occur quietly in the background. A rule has been established, and in the absence of a change to that rule, it will continue to run just as lungs continue to breathe in the absence of efforts to resist their regular behavior.

To reiterate, absolutely none of the above requires that the participants delve into other aspects of kink. While many we see in our local organizations do participate in things like impact or bondage in addition to their power exchange, one does not require the other to function. It is completely possible to negotiate kink scenes in which power exchange does not occur, all the way up to having kink relationships without the inclusion of PE. However, I will say, as a power exchange aficionado, seeing two individuals attempt to impose their will upon one another in the context of a relationship seems messy, as it often becomes some type of power struggle with no clear winner in any given battle. I personally prefer the reassurance that having those things clearly outlined gives me, while also understanding that it isn’t for everyone.

About the Author

The touch that triggers panic

July 12, 2020 By Christmas Bunny 3 Comments

choke neck squeeze of submissive woman by dom — via stock.adobe.com

I have a trigger. I hate using that word, since it brings to mind the watered-down version of today’s culture, which seems to mean I got uncomfortable or had my feelings hurt.

No.

I mean the word as it meant to be used. A series of specific physical stimuli can create a panic response in me, to the point of a legitimate panic attack. We discovered it by accident, as one often does with this sort of thing.

I’ve had an issue with having my neck touched for a very long time. In fact, it is solidly on my hard limit list. It was from a bad experience 10+ years ago. Not long after that, I had a partner come up behind me and loop an arm around my neck and he found himself dangling across my back, the only thing keeping him from a judo throw and a potential back injury was that my blind response no longer had hold of me once the pressure on my neck was gone. Not so when combined with other sensations. Better to just not provoke my body’s fight response.

Early on with my current partner, I informed him of my issue. We made the decision together to attempt to soften the aversion I held for that touch.

I want to be really clear for a moment. None of what we attempted or accomplished was with the assistance of a counselor or therapist, and other than a basic idea of the concept of immersion therapy, and have little to no actual educational basis for our actions. We were lucky to find some modicum of success. Not everyone who attempts to overcome their own stuff will have the same result. Hell, perhaps no one else will. I cannot speak for anyone else.

We began slowly. Over an extended period of time – days, not hours, he touched my collarbone non-threateningly for just a moment. The next time it was a moment longer. Once I gained some comfort with that action, we moved his hand slightly and repeated the process. After concerted effort, we succeeded in him being able to rest his hand upon my neck fully. After additional time had passed we were able to explore some mild breath play.

The trouble came when it combined with other sensations which could potentially be interpreted as negative. The first time it happened I was not in a position to communicate effectively regarding my distress. Having no idea I had a hidden landmine, we tripped it and I discovered what a panic attack was.

Well. After a little distance and some self-analysis, I decided it was a combination of sensations which pushed me over the edge. Having newly recognized and super fun trauma to overcome in the context of our D/s dynamic meant there were times we were going to work on it when it killed any sexual enjoyment I had been experiencing. It was like a light switch, and where once the light shone warmly, the moment effectively flipped the switch to anxiety and a desire to flee.

But we continued. We set up an emergency signal to indicate emotional anxiety during times when I couldn’t speak the words. We added those individual elements back into our sexual repertoire, albeit individually and in small increments. As we worked on those things separately, over time, we we able to get to the point of recombining them. It took possibly a year or so by my estimation, clearly not a quick process or one without risk of explosion.

I celebrated mightily the day we were able to do those things again. I don’t remember how – perhaps I sang some Queen and took a lap. It wasn’t so much that I enjoyed the experience as it was the triumph of regaining the ability to do them without falling apart. Most of my enjoyment came from that victory rather than from the ability to take pleasure in the act itself. I hoped in time that would change and I would have my freedom from those chains.

Of course it did, just not as I hoped. It was one thing to say the words that this would always be with me, a completely different thing to actually understand the magnitude of them. We went through a period of time when the things which had comprised that emotional land mine were less present for us. We avoided touching my throat because I got sick and it was swollen. It just fell away a bit. Somewhere along the way I backslid. I lost some of the progress I’d made, and things we’d been able to do six months ago bring anxiety and the first rushes of panic again. It was a hard realization that this really will be with me forever, in some sense.

I celebrate that I made progress in this battle, and I will overcome again. I don’t have to think about it the way it stole my thoughts before, since it only rears up on occasion anymore. I hope some day it will lie dormant, an emotional cancer finally eliminated by radiation.

Whether I get there or not, I will continue to fight for myself and my mental well-being, and I will continue to encourage others to find the paths they need in order to face their own landmines with courage. In solidarity, we can all become better versions of ourselves, one day at a time, whatever the method of achievement may be.

About the Author

Feelings in Poly & BDSM

July 5, 2020 By Christmas Bunny 2 Comments

submissive poly woman is looks sad while experiencing some feelings — via stock.adobe.com

Feelings are a funny thing.

Sometimes we have them and aren’t really sure why, or can’t put it into words. It can take some introspection to thoughtfully realize a root cause and then some work to find the right words to express those feels in a way that doesn’t assign blame to another.

Let’s all say it together: “Feelings aren’t right or wrong, good or bad. Feelings just are. The part that really matters is how we each choose to respond to those feelings, since that’s the only part we can truly control.”

It’s true, though, as much as it may sound like a platitude. I think of it more like my mantra. When I have unexpected or confusing feelings, I remind myself that they are an automatic response to a set of stimuli rather than something I can control. In my case, often the response is initially rooted in my abandonment issues. Any time they have an opportunity to rear their heads, they generally take it, and quite gleefully, I’d suspect, if they could.

*You aren’t good enough,* they whisper. *You’ll never be good enough.* *He’s going to leave you, the only question is when, not if.*

They have a litany of my flaws, which they collect on a scroll and delight in reading to me at random moments. They try to push me to run as a first response to any sign that someone is displeased with me, or that conflict is imminent. They will take hiding as a second choice when I push back against running, which has meant Santa has once or twice found me curled up in a corner or tucked in a nook in the closet.

But how do I handle unknown things? Particularly when I’ve spent a day and a half both actively trying to ascertain the root of said feelings and also quietly avoiding thinking by loudly singing along with the Dave Matthews Band station on iHeartRadio while cutting deliciously supple bullhide at my work station.

I find emotion a hindrance when attempting to find the root of feelings. Being emotional has never given me a boost when it comes to attempting rational thought. The first thing I have to do is set them aside, as clinically as possible. Yes, I can still feel them if I allow myself to dwell, but that isn’t a helpful exercise. Rather, I need to be able to form them into a lump and examine them from the outside in order to work my way to their core.

Let’s take a simple but real scenario and break it down. It’s one that happened recently and required a lot of dissection for me to understand it. My partner was unable to make plans with his other partner because of a statewide shutdown, so she made arrangements to spend time with him at our shared residence. I was happy to see her when she arrived, lingered downstairs for a popsicle, then wandered to my workroom to avoid intruding on their time together. Except I realized I had left my phone charging in the room they were in, and me barging in to get it might very well ruin an intimate moment at that point. So I dug out my laptop, messaged my partner there (since he’d be unlikely to be looking at his phone during any fun stuff), and asked that when he had a moment, could he toss my phone out.

Whew! Awkwardness averted. About half an hour later, he popped out with my phone, gave me a kiss, and returned to the room. I had been totally fine the entire time.

Then he shut the door behind him. My stomach twisted into a knot and I felt sick. Why on earth was I upset? It wasn’t at all rational. I wasn’t jealous of their time together. I knew I needed to poke at it, but in the moment was exactly the worst time to attempt to do so. Knowing I was emotional, but unsure why, I held my tongue. I continued to work and listen to music, deciding there would be time.

After a time, the door opened and I was invited to come hang with them for a while, so I gave them space on the couch and pulled up a spot on the bed that wasn’t between them. We had a lovely rest of the afternoon, just chatting and enjoying one another’s company. I waited to share my feelings with my partner until after the visit, not wanting to create a dark cloud over their limited time together.

I explained that I’d had some feelings. I also stated that the feeling didn’t seem, on the surface, to be jealousy, but that I’d need some time to poke at it before I was really sure what the root was. I planned to reach out to her once I had worked through it, so I wasn’t coming at her from a place of emotion, but just keeping lines of communication open so there would be no falsehood between us, either as friends or as metamours.

Over the next two days I poked at that strange emotion I’d experienced. Was I wrong? Could it be jealousy? I examined it carefully before again discarding that conclusion. Jealous is a fear of loss, and that wasn’t an accurate assessment of my feeling in that moment. I spent some time journaling for myself in an attempt to understand. It was something about that door. That was the moment.

I explored that some more. Why would a door closing bother me so? Well, past experience has taught me about slamming doors. I thought back upon my relationship with my partner. Had there been a door slammed between us before? I couldn’t recall even one. In fact, pursing that thought process, I couldn’t recall any door other than one for a bathroom which had been closed between us for anything other than work or necessity. Even when we’ve had other partners, often the relationships intertwined in ways that would mean even when a door was closed, it could still be opened at any time. This was the first moment I could recall when I was not welcomed into a room with him, and in fact, actively shut out.

New things can be difficult. However, understanding myself and my response was important, rather than becoming emotional and creating pain for him or his other partner. I took the time to explore my feelings without needing to resolve them immediately. For this particular example, the only real resolution was for me to understand myself. I wasn’t seeking a change in his behavior, I just needed him to be aware that I had discovered something about myself. Once I’d figured it out, we discussed it again, and I told him how I felt. He gave me some affection, and the incident was over.

I addressed it with her afterwards, explaining that I’d had the feeling, and wanted her to know, but that it didn’t require any action on her part. Submissives can sometimes be fixers, though, and she offered some compromise solutions that I knew would actually make her uncomfortable. It was sweet, but I declined and reiterated that no action was necessary, but that I believe hiding things like these moments from partners, and even peripheral partners, such as my meta, is practicing dishonesty. Those things can eat away at us, and become larger and more out of control the more we push them aside.

Feelings aren’t good or bad. They just are. Spend some time with yourself when you’ve experienced a strong emotion and do the work to understand why you respond the way you do. It is important we have healthy responses to the way we handle possible conflict in our kink relationships.

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The Inking

July 5, 2020 By Christmas Bunny 3 Comments

submissive woman gets tattoo on ribs — via stock.adobe.com

She could feel the nerves set in the moment her eyes opened.

Yes, He owns me, she told herself. Yes, He has married me as part of His claiming. Yes, He has had this body pierced because it pleases Him.

But she had always felt that ink was different. Legal contracts can be dissolved, albeit with some difficulty. Piercings can grow in. Tattoo removal is a lot more challenging.

So as permanent as those things are, she had both longed for and dreaded ink since He claimed her.

Yes, there was a sense of dread. Will this ink be bad luck? Am I etching what could become a painful daily reminder of loss onto my skin? What if He changes His mind? She questioned herself unmercifully.

People do that, after all. Leave.

So up until the moment the ink touched her skin, there was a sense that there was time to turn back. There was time to ask Him four more times if He is sure He wants her forever before we arrived at the deserted shop for the appointment.

He didn’t disappoint her, though. He reassured her like it was His profession. In a way, perhaps it is.

Warm thumb brushing across her knuckles, He drew her hand to His lips. The exhale of breath contained the quietest words, the weight of Atlas in their echo.

Mine. Forever.

All that in a breath.

Inside, she had to pee four times while He and the artist finalized the design and put the stencil on twice. She knew it was just nerves and wished she’d had something to calm them, but nothing that would have helped would have been good for the process of inking.

Because of health issues, the ink was just for her. I carry this art for both of us, he had said. It is a weighty thought.

She tucked one hand into the small of her back, feeling the texture beneath her fingers as thoughts raced. There is still plenty of time to change my mind. The thought comforted her.

Suddenly, breasts bared to the empty room, the needle was on her skin. Her exhale was shaky as she groped for purchase with her free hand, finding Him beneath her palm. He lovingly lifted the hand and entwined her fingers with His own.

For the next hour, her eyes seldom left His face. There were moments of conversation she tried to focus on, but she was mostly far away. She found her happy place until the artist reached her floating ribs, and her vision swam a little as the pain that had been humming along at endorphin-triggering levels suddenly spiked.

“Just breathe normally,” she heard in her ear. Then a few minutes later, “Are you going pass out?”

He laughed. He knew her pain face well. “She’s fine,” He responded, her glazed eyes meeting His. The artist, understanding the collar, smiled and continued.

Her eyes roamed His face. His lips whispered for her, but she struggled to make sense of them.

Good girl and then Mine a few minutes later. Something in His proprietous gaze made her suspect the next sex they had would be full of rough hair pulling and urgent biting, ankles held captive so He could see His new mark.

A pause came in the buzzing, and something cold touching her skin. She mositened her lips. “Are you done?” she asked.

The artist laughed. “Men don’t generally like it when you ask that,” he responded.

The buzzing began again, catching the tender spots he wasn’t pleased with. After cleaning, he gently pressed a bandage to her skin and she absently slid her soft shirt over her head, piercings obvious in its thin, draped fabric.

He took care of the details as she floated along, awash in the endorphins that made the hour bearable.

They got in the car. “Show me,” He commanded.

She lifted her shirt obediently.

He made a sound close to growling. He crushed her mouth to His, rough in His passion. Mine, she heard again, only this time she felt it between her breasts and tasted it on His lips.

Reconciling After Bad Behavior

June 28, 2020 By Christmas Bunny 2 Comments

Writing a journal in a kinky world — via stock.adobe.com

Being part of a community with all kinds of kinks means I am bound to come into contact with people who are less than savory. I will also, sadly, likely give someone untrustworthy my trust.

Have, actually. More than once. Which presents a dilemma.

I am not responsible for someone else’s actions. My warning or lack thereof is unlikely to change anything other than the way the object of warning sees me – as suddenly a meddlesome shittalker, determined to undermine some innocent person for my own reasons, to satisfy my own agenda.

Yet if I have had a notably negative experience with a person in the community, who am I to approach others about it?

The thing is, I often see two roads when it comes to things we see as consent violations. The first is denial or dismissal. The second is scorched earth. We really have no community consensus on how to proceed.

Is that the best way to handle things? The first is problematic, as by not speaking up, this person who doesn’t have the ability to comprehend that their actions caused pain is likely to repeat those actions (as I’ve seen), with the unspoken blessing of all those who turn a blind eye. Such as me.

The second solution is problematic as it drives this person out of the scene, leaving them to prey upon members who may be less connected or outside of it, often leaving those other people without the resources or support that could have helped them.

How do we find a middle ground?

How do we implement a system that will identify people who are potentially dangerous and keep people safe while also allowing them to learn from their mistakes and become better aware of others, better negotiators, better people?

Can we genuinely help people understand and rehabilitate and where do we draw the line if they cannot acknowlege the damage they do or if it seems they don’t care?

Are there cases where we can see people benefiting from community involvement as learners, participants, but being careful to exclude them from leadership and the hazards that can bring?

Even after people behave badly, isn’t the goal to help them learn from their mistakes and become better people? It seems we are often very long on memory and very short on forgiveness. While I don’t have the answers to these questions, I believe we have to consider them within our own communities, have the hard conversations, and make decisions about how to handle these situations. Sadly, we never know when we may need to have already done so.

About the Author

Being The Gambler

June 21, 2020 By Christmas Bunny 2 Comments

One of the most challenging things about human relationships can be knowing when to walk away from them. Hell, knowing when to run can be just as difficult.

This time has been particularly challenging for relationships. I’ve seen ones that seemed solid crumble early on in the lockdown, while others I knew were shaky have held on because the people in them felt they had no other options. Finances are in trouble, sex is a struggle even on the best days, and those two things already point straight at a split or divorce without factoring in that everyone is stressed in ways many of us never anticipated.

But when is the time to go?

Well, if you’re asking yourself that, it probably already isn’t a great sign for the longevity of your relationship. When your reason becomes staying because you can’t afford not to or because of the kids or the dog, it is long past time to have gone.

Ideally a breakup should happen when people realize they aren’t compatible long-term. Unfortunately, feelings are messy and seldom so cut and dried. Love, memories of past love, and misguided honor can keep us in bad or simply ill-fitting situations longer than we should let them.

If practicality can win, a separation occurs more clinically and the ability to retain friendship remains. It happens before the disagreements become fights and the fights become unresolved issues and finally resentment. Resentment generally become a rather drawn out an expensive divorce, in my experience.

The hardest part? It isn’t admitting things aren’t working. Odds are good your best friend or your mother or someone else you’re close to already knows. You’ve told them yourself, even if it isn’t in those words. The hardest part is letting go of what you believed your life was going to look like with that person. You are letting go of your vision of your future, even if you’ve never sat down and explicitly planned it. Maybe it was a flash of you with them in a rocking chair on a porch, white-haired and laughing. Maybe it was visions of a mobile home driving cross country or living on a cruise ship.

You have to let those things go. Maybe people are finding it easier to walk away from relationships now because they are already having to let go of what they imagined their futures would look like. Letting go of a partner is just one more release among many, and the grieving can happen together.

You are exchanging your happy vision of what might be with a blank canvas. That’s really fucking scary, particularly now. But maybe there’s a better way to look at it.

You are exchanging nights of fighting in a home that feels like a war zone for nights of peace, wandering through the house in pajamas not worrying about the next fight. You are exchanging words of hostility for silence, or even better, for the possibility of words of love and support from others. You are exchanging eggshells for wood floors and peace and the possibilities ahead are endless.

You are exchanging a guarantee – misery every day or however often for a possibility of happiness in the future. The unknown is a scary place, and it can be hard to give up even a miserable present in exchange for a world you can’t imagine.

When I was a little girl, my parents wanted the best for me. They wanted me to be happy and find a partner who loved and cherished me. As I got older, that desire didn’t change. It’s what we all want for our children. I have learned to ask myself questions.

Would my parents be filled with joy at how happy I am if they could see inside my relationship? (Discounting any assumptions about bias – they don’t have to approve of the relationship, just my happiness level.) Would they feel my partner treats me well or would they want to punch my partner if they really knew how they treat me?

And most of all: do I want my children to grow up and have a relationship like this? Is that the happiness I envision for them? They will model their relationships on what they see from me. Would I want my child to stay with a partner who makes them miserably unhappy, or would I open my arms, tell them to come come, and support them pursuing happiness?

If I wouldn’t want it for someone I love, the real question is, why don’t I love myself enough not to want it for me?

About the Author

Manipulation, Passive Aggression & Want vs Need

June 14, 2020 By Christmas Bunny 2 Comments

Once upon a time I was following along with an interesting conversation in a chat group I belong to. It wandered to the subject of partners and scening, impact and desires, as conversations do on occasion amongst kinky folks. I wasn’t particularly engaged until something caught my eye. I shall paraphrase: “It’s most certainly a need for me. Getting pain safely from my Dominant keeps me from self harming.”

I suddenly saw red flags and heard alarm bells everywhere. First issue: this person was claiming that the endorphin rush from pain was a need rather than a strong want. Second issue: this person was placing their mental health directly on someone else’s doorstep rather than taking personal responsibility for it. Third issue: this person was creating a situation which had become manipulative – they were making their D-type feel guilty for not giving them what they wanted when they wanted it.

Need vs Want

The debate over whether kink is a need or a want is one I’ve heard a lot of takes on. Ultimately, the arguments boil down to a few simple ones. On the side arguing for it being a want, needs are defined as the things our bodies require to live, such as food, water, shelter, etx. Spankings are not required to live. On the side arguing for it being a need, people point out that in order to feel totally ourselves or release stress or whatnot, these releases are required, making it a mental health need. Except I still feel that the word need is too strong. Unless someone’s brain chemistry is such that they have become addicted in a way that going without regular doses of strong endorphins could be physically harmful, I still see kink as a want rather than a need.

Which means we need to discuss the possibility of being addicted to the endorphins. I poked around the internet quite a bit before finally stumbling across an article discussing becoming addicted to endorphins, and mentioned the possibility of addiction to dopamine and oxytocin. It basically suggested seeking out safe ways to indulge in scratching that itch, such as riding roller coasters.

Personal Responsibility for Mental Health

I absolutely believe that even if somene has become addicted to endorphins, placing the responsibility for their mental well-being upon someone else is just shitty behavior. We are all each only responsible for ourselves. I say this as someone in a 24/7 Total Power Exchange. I am absolutely the only person responsible for my mental health. It is not my partner’s job to “fix” me. If I have an issue, I need to seek counseling or other professional assistance. Dropping that burden at someone else’s feet is a cop-out, and completely unfair to them. Most people sign on for a competent and functional partner rather than someone for whom they have to keep at a certain numerical score of happiness. That’s what Sims are for, not romantic partners.

Bringing Manipulative and Passive Aggressive Behaviors into Relationships

Manipulation and passive-aggression are tools for the unempowered. If someone has a relationship built on good communication, they have no need for those things.

It begins when they talk their partner into guilt that they shouldn’t rightfully bear. The couple who agreed upon an open relationship with full disclosure shouldn’t be a cover for lying. “I never really wanted this but I agreed because you caught me cheating, which I totally had an excellent reason for that I will justify, but now that you’re actually seeing someone else, you need to know how much it hurts me. So just do whatever you want and I’ll find a way to deal with the pain you put me through.”

Yeah. The genie is flashing red whilst reciting warnings of an imminent plane crash. They seem like a loving partner because they are sacrificing their needs for the other person, when what they are really doing is trying to guilt them into doing what their will.

Of course, that wasn’t their first play. The first thing they did was play on their partner’s insecurities. The manipulator points out what their partner does or has done wrong and how they could have done it better, because helping them learn means they have their partner’s best interests at heart, right? Except what they really want is for their partner to feel like they know things they don’t so they look to the manipulator for guidance. Like setting themselves up as an experienced top, and then getting angry when they hurt their bottom and they want to stop, because the bottom must not be doing something right. A loving partner would be concerned rather than angry they didn’t get their way. Or like leading a group on polyamory and choosing a partner new to that relationship style, because that way they can be the expert and everyone else is “doing it wrong.”

Most of all, manipulators make other people responsible for their emotions.

Because then, their happiness, unhappiness, anger, or whatnot is all someone else’s fault.

So please be cautious. People who don’t take personal responsibility, people who manipulate their partners – these are the kinds of people who are potentially dangerous, both to the individual and to their communities.

Christmas Bunny

Most of all, manipulators make other people responsible for their emotions.

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