Christmas Bunny

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 used 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.

Having poly aspects to a D/s dynamic can be an interesting balancing act.

I’m on what may end up being permanent hiatus from my own poly adventures, but Santa, being the dapper and charming fellow that He is, often gets requests to play with others.  I’m sure it would be even worse if He wore the suit.

I have no demands as far as who He does and does not play with, as that isn’t how this works.  TPE for us means I may make requests, and they will be carefully considered.  I know I hold value for Him, though, and as such, we have some ground rules in place.

If someone can’t be at least friendly to me, He isn’t interested in playing with them.  They don’t have to message me every day and tell me what they had for lunch, discuss their emotions in depth, or all of their thoughts on the socioeconomic policies congress is currently considering, but they do need to be on passingly friendly terms with me.  It is too easy for light flirting in public or online forums to become flirting with hostility.

What do I mean by that?  I mean when someone is rubbing another person’s face in intimacy that occured with their partner.  In our case, that would be like Him playing separately with someone who actively disliked me for any number of reasons, then that person deliberately bringing up that play to be vindictive.

Women are incredibly skilled at being ugly to one another.  Many of us raised in environments with “socializing” are quick to pick up talent at being absolutely viscious while seeming completely harmless to men.  It flies right under their radars most of the time, almost totally invisible.  It can seem like harmless flirting to them, a little light banter, when in reality every word is an ugly barb, exquisitely crafted to do as much damage as possible to a separate target.

The challenge with that is convincing someone who is unaware of those subtle skills that the devil really does exist.  Oh, she’s just being playful / friendly / some other positive adjective.  She doesn’t mean any harm, she just forgot that it bothers you for her to discuss it in front of you.  I didn’t respond to her fast enough so she figured it was fine to post that picture without giving you a heads-up.

Maybe those were all innocent.  Maybe they weren’t.  If the women are on good terms, I’m more inclined to believe it was.  If they aren’t, I’m much more likely to believe those behaviors have less posivite motivators.

Daddy isn’t all about that drama life.  If someone wants to play, she’s gotta be on good terms with me.  No exceptions.  To ignore that rule courts relationship trouble, and even more serious play is not worth the potential problems.

Not even if she wears bbq scented perfume and has beer-flavored nipples.

About the Author

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.

It’s so easy to look at what someone else has and believe it is what we need to find happiness.  I see it all the time.  It can be as simple as wishing you’d ordered what someone else was served at a lunch meeting, or as painful and potentially relationship-damaging as constantly envying metamours for the kind of attention or time they are getting from a mutual partner.

Metamour Envy.  It’s truly a poison that can damage more than one relationship when left to spread unchecked.

We like to talk a good game in poly.

Let each relationship develop into what it will be independent of outside influence – down with the relationship escalator!

But how often do we find ourselves riding it without even realizing it?  Maybe even while emphatically insisting we aren’t.  All the while, we chat idly with metamours, internally comparing our relationships.

She gets more time with him than I do.  She sees him four nights a week and I only get one.

He plays with her more than he plays with me.  I have to beg to get scene time when he’ll give it to everyone else before me.

I don’t like pain and she does, so he won’t ever do those things with me and it isn’t fair.

Isn’t fair.

It isn’t fair!

Do those people really want what someone else has, or are they afraid?  Is it envy because they want it, envy because they want that time, or jealousy because they fear losing what they have?  Those are all very different things that we can all easily mistake for something simple.

What happened to taking each relationship and letting it grow based on the needs and wants of the people in it?

If my partner only wants to play with me once a month, but I look sideways and see Him playing with other people, too, should my demands for more play time for me supersede his need for other types of play than I can do with Him?

If my demands for attention begin to impact the way He can interact with other partners in public or private, am I treating them with the courtesy that I would want them to show me?

Am I behaving with only selfish goals in mind, or am I doing my honest best to be a good person in a given scenario?

Frankly, I would feel awful if I felt He were neglecting another partner and it were because of my wants.  You see, our particular agreement is that He would see to my needs.  Demands are not needs.  My mental health is a need, but is my responsibility.  He is not my property to command and He is not my pain dispenser.

If I am not happy, it isn’t His fault, and it isn’t His responsibility to try to create happiness in me.  That has to first come from me, and if I don’t already have it, He cannot artificially create it, only loan me His.  My acquisition of it at that point is vampiric and will drain Him of positivity slowly, but surely, until He is as unhappy with me as I am with myself.

I say this using myself as the object, knowing I am quite happy, both with myself and with my partner, despite my ever-present issues, of course.  I have run across many people who fall into this trap, leaving broken relationships in their wake, the other person always guilty of not making them happy.

They aren’t going to find that in someone else.  They aren’t going to get that if they are given what they say they want.  Because in the end, what they really need has to come from inside, the place that lacks it the most.

About the Author

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There is an unspoken rule in most kink communities.

Identities are to be kept secret.

We may learn someone’s first name or about the type of work they do, but it is usually drilled into us early on in our admittance into the secret dungeons and kinky conventions that we are not to seek that information out.  If we are entrusted with it, that is one thing.  Asking someone about things which can potentially identify them outside of the kink community can be anything from grounds for gentle correction to expulsion from an event depending on the severity of the offense and the group in which the misstep occurs.

Why, though, are we so paranoid about personal information?

Well, in addition to Google, there are search engines specifically dedicated to locating people. They require three pieces of information. More gets you more accurate results, but three will do it.

Name: First or last, both gets you more accuracy.  This makes a real name the first danger should someone be attempting to keep their kink business separate and private from their vanilla life.

Location: State, though city gets you more accuracy. Ever wonder why so many people claim to be from Antarctica on kinky social media?  Because a location is an easy piece of the triad to obtain.

Employment: Yes, this can even include receiving unemployment, as that is a matter of public record. Obviously a business name is more accurate, but even their field of work can provide you with a hit.

Once you enter these in, guess what? You’ll be presented with last names, facebook profiles, and other social media account possibilities. You may even get home address for some of the people who hit as possibles. At that point, you can just narrow it down and it’s a matter of time.

Try it on yourself, I’ll wait. I looked up my first name combined with two other words. That was a pretty sobering realization to come to, I assure you.

When you say that a first name can do no harm, you’re only right insofar as it isn’t helpful on its own, unless particularly uncommon.  This is why most people use a scene name.

When someone entrusts you with their name, it isn’t an opportunity to share it with others.  That’s the kind of behavior which is usually universally frowned upon in our local communities.  When you release someone’s personal information, not only are you putting them in actual jeopardy (outing them to their employer, ex-spouse, stalkers, whoever), but you are violating their trust in you.  Even if you have nothing to lose, it isn’t your place to decide that for someone else.

So if someone introduces themselves as Apple, or bunny, or even Santa, please show them the respect of addressing them as they have chosen while within our community space.

If you engage with them outside of that space, for example, at a grocery store, do them the courtesy of either choosing not to approach, or by simply acknowledging them without using a name.  They may not have a ready explanation for why a stranger approached them calling them Apple.  It is best to avoid putting people in those positions.

Because the first rule of Fight Club?  Don’t talk about Fight Club.

About the Author

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.

Is there some kind of step by step list for negotiating? came the text.

I rolled my eyes and sighed a bit.  I’m not sure why some people think I’m sweetness and light, with answers like Google.  I’m more an odd blend of snark and obedience, but more of the sass to those who don’t command the latter.

Of course, when it comes to answers, it’s important to me to either share the knowlege I have or point people to where it is.  I see no shame in admitting when I don’t know something.  It tends to give weight to my words when I do know and choose to speak them.  Sometimes I keep them to myself unless I’m asked to do otherwise.

Which in this case, I clearly was, right?

I asked a few questions for clarification.  On the tail of the responses came a statement.  I have a feeling you’re about to warn me about a bunch of things.  It’s like my friends know me.

The thing is, being new to kink can be both gloriously amazing and absolutely horrible.  Sometimes all at once.  Maybe you are one of the ones who knows exactly what they like because you’ve been masturbating to it for the last who-knows-how-many years before being brave enough to actually seek it.  It’s more likely, though, that most beginners have ideas about what they’ll like and have to do a lot of trial and error to figure it out for sure.

There’s a reason I advocate taste test-type events.  They are often a relatively low-pressure and low-risk opportunity to sort several activities into the yes and no columns at the same time.

So I reached out to a friend who does some classes and got an email full of resources.  After passing the info on, I smiled.  No doubt the recipient was taking their turn at eye-rolling, thinking me a worrywort.  I had sent checklists and worksheets along with warnings about strike zones for impact play and a cautionary request about setting up a series of safe calls.

The thing is, I’ve been that new person, bubbling with excitement for kink, and I’ve been the one who was burned, with a lovely collection of triggers that have taken me time to overcome.  I see the exciting things that are out there and know the dangers lurking on the horizon for the innocently unaware.

But I’ll continue to be the one who pops balloons and who warns friends that negotiating only does you any good if the other person honors it.  I’ll continue to advise having more than one safe call set up – before, during and after, voice calls so a text can’t be faked, with an address to send police to if you don’t check in and don’t answer the phone at set times.  I’ll do my best to get information to anyone who I know doesn’t have it and wants it.   If I give them more than they needed to make decisions which protect their physical and emotional well-being, I’ll consider that a good day.

In their nievety they may not know what they don’t know.

But I do.

About the Author

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.