Disclaimer: This post mentions topics involving sexual activity and consensual sexual violence. Not suitable for individuals under eighteen years of age. Reader discretion is advised.
Finding my self worth from hiding deep within.
Often in life, we go through our actions without too much thought for the things we do, the things we think or why. They make up a part of our lives and a part of who we are. They make up us as individuals, all unique.
When you meet a prospective Dominant, one of the most important things that you can be is honest. There are undoubtedly dozens of kinksters on this planet that have met dishonest people, Dominants and submissives alike. It could be dishonesty about anything: your name, your age, your sex (if you’re a man pretending to be a woman online), your relationship status and more. Feelings get hurt, trust gets broken, relationships get tarnished beyond repair.
At first, Will and I were pretty high on having discovered one another; we connected, we laughed, we bonded. Things were light, they were fun, sometimes they were even a bit flirtatious or suggestive. Despite that though, we kept things real: We’re both married, and we both live about 200 miles apart.
Over the past few days, laughter and jokes turned more to honesty and transparency. Gone are the brief snippets of ourselves, now it’s time for some real and some serious getting-to-know-you talk. There’s more serious talk in all regards, not just with Will.
I could sense something was off with Matt almost from the get-go, he was quiet, contemplative and sullen rather than his usual energetic, chatty self. Remember I said yesterday that I can analyse people very well? Well, it doesn’t take me long at all to read my husband!
“What’s going on, butt?”
“Hmm? Nothing, I’m fine” he said quietly.
“OK, now tell me what’s really going on? Come on, communication.”
It’s a great ploy. It’s a naughty one too for sure, but I find that if your partner isn’t sharing their troubles, then throwing the dynamic rulebook at them can sometimes help. They want you to talk to them? Well, that has to go both ways.
“I’m just worrying…”
“I feel like I might be getting in the way of you being happy with Will, you know? I don’t want to stop you.”
If I nearly executed my husband, then I nearly executed him for thinking this, rather than for anything else. There was to be no swapping, no replacing, no changing anyone out. This was a one plus one, not one instead of one. Even if I said it, Will wouldn’t let me swap Matt out. He has already been clear that my marriage to Matt comes first, and I respect that.
I just gave a speech that could outdo the next Presidential elect, but whatever xx
In truth, I’d spent a good ten minutes talking about polyamory, about communication and how we don’t have to rush into anything. I talked about variable outcomes (the good and the bad), double dates and did I mention communication again? It was empassioned, it was full of conviction and hope and openness for what lies ahead. It was full of determination to make the relationship work, as a two or as a three.
It as the sort of thing that the next Presidential elect would be proud of.
I’m not saying that yesterday was an entirely innocent day on the home front, because things happened that… well… I’m still processing now. Perhaps with ‘polyamory’ being the word of the day, then in the mind’s eye, any activity could be perceived as though it were outside of marital norms.
“Tell me” he said, noticing my evasion.
“I was just thinking…” I began, “doesn’t this feel like a pretty un-married thing to be doing, right here?”. I glanced down at my hand wrapped around my husband’s hard cock and bit my lip. Come to think of it, nothing about it felt very ‘married’ at all.
“You are one bad, bad girl…” he admonished, rolling and pinning me.
I’m not going to go into the full details, except that there was some hair pulling, some face-slapping and some serious non-married roleplay involved. I’ve never cheated on my husband and I never would, but cheating on my husband, with my husband? That was fun!
“Who even are you?!” I laughed, sitting up to look at him. “Mr S, you are one seriously, seriously dark horse!”
Considering how I thought Matt would react to such an idea, then it had quite the opposite effect. I don’t know that I’ve quite opened Pandora’s box, but I have definitely made some progress.
This morning was shower time. It wasn’t planned, but Sir #1 was still fast asleep, and Sir #2 was off for a shower and so I decided, I liked Sir #2’s idea better. As we talked a bit more on self-care, I admitted where I put myself in terms of self-importance:
Keep that up, and we’ll be having words xx
Meep. Not words. I don’t like having words.
You ARE worth more! And one day you will realise it xx
Okay okay xx
Eesh. I guess. I ain’t shit.
I leaned against the wall of the shower for a while and lost myself in thought, Did I still want this? Did I still want to be doing this? I could always opt out…
Sometimes, what we really need in our lives is somebody to give it to us straight. I love Matt unconditionally, but Will has a way with words that just cuts to the chase. It’s refreshing. challenging sometimes, and also kind of sexy.
Will makes a lot of points, and I mean that in the innocent sense here, not those kind of points. He has the kind of points that make me want to growl and snarl and scream but ultimately he’s right, of course he’s right. I wouldn’t accept his say if he wasn’t.
In my head, I could hear Camilla Cabello’s “Shameless“. What even was it was it with my head sometimes? It’s like Transformers’ Bumblebee up there!
Right now, I’m shameless
Screamin’ my lungs out for ya
Not afraid to face it
I need you more than I want to
Need you more than I want to
That was the problem: ‘need’ and ‘want’. I wanted to keep things slow, distant, cool. There’s marriages and distances and family and jobs. I wanted to keep things cool until we’d decided where were at and where we we wanted to go. But straight talking like that? ‘Need’ was telling me something far, far different.
At first, I failed too see my worth. Our inner critic can be a demon like that sometimes.
I’m not worth anything! I’m really not. I’m fat and I’m mediocre-looking and I’m just me, but if you want me then I can’t stop you.
But then I had a pivotal moment. Like a spark to a diesel spill, something lit up inside of me:
I AM worth more!
Today was the first shower that I’d had in almost two months where I used Dove and shampoo and conditioner; all of the things that felt nice. Gone was showering to feel clean, instead I spoiled my skin to the foamy, creamy lather that it so loved. I lost myself and marvelled at the bubbles on my skin and the way that the water washed them off. Why did I ever think that I didn’t deserve this?!
As I rinsed my hair, I dipped my head back under the stream as Whethan ft Dua Lipa’s “High” played on the bathroom speaker. It was epically a Fifty Shades moment in the making and I even let out a wry chuckle at the thought, but whatever, it still felt good. The water splashed my face and almost drowned me, causing me to dart up and gasp. As I did, another realisation hit me and I smiled: Could submission to two men really feel this good? This spoilt? Loved?
I admitted a lot of home-truths today, I admitted how my mother used to examine my benefits forms to make sure that I’d “not forgotten something” and how her housekeeping charges went up by 25% within weeks of me getting my first part-time job. I admitted how mother fought to keep me me from leaving the family home, because my doing so meant she would have to go out to work. If showering wasn’t enough, I felt rinsed free of any secrets. I felt like an onion, with all of my layers undone.
How do you feel? xxx
In my mind, I thought once more about the ‘Ceremony of the Roses’, something that I was still pondering about. In the ceremony, the pricking of the submissive’s finger presents the taking of her virginity. Right now, as bared before both men as I felt, I sure as hell felt virgin once more.