Thanks to you both

You know Joe… the funny thing is that while Joshua and I were split up, I had sex with two other men besides Marcel. Sadly, I can’t even remember their names, maybe Jason was one?? I don’t think of these two at all, there was no satisfaction with them. AND almost every time Joshua and I fuck or make love, I cum, so it’s very confusing to feel satiated yet… what? Empty?? Distant?? Disconnected… 

When I think of swapping partners I see little flashes in my mind. Thoughts like “Maybe Joshua will like it so much that he’ll leave me” and when this occurs to me, it is with a mixed sense of relief and worry. Relief that I would be free, worry that I would not be able to financially take care of myself and my son. I watched my mother deny her own being, her own self, time and again because she could not “afford” to leave. I watched her stay because my brother and I “needed” a father. All my life I have fought to be a different person than she is…

But I am her.

I catch myself being mean to Joshua because I want him to pull the trigger on this. I couldn’t handle the guilt of causing pain to so many people again. I used to tell Marcel that it would be okay, that I was strong enough to deny myself what I wanted so badly, that I would be fine so long as everyone around me was taken care of. I would tell him that we would have to get what joy we could from each other only in stolen places and only sometimes with careful planning. But I am such a liar to myself and to him too. I couldn’t wait everyday to speak to him, to find out what he had done that day, to see that slanted smile on my computer screen. I would check my “secret” phone every few hours, sometimes… every few minutes, to see if he had sent me a message. And he did, so many, as a simple way to be connected even with us so far apart. I would stop and hug myself, imagining it was his arms. Even now, I have tactile memories, I can recall him and the different places our bodies contacted each other. Vivid and strong, they haven’t faded.

I stop and think about Joshua, the last contact I remember was last night in bed, his body next to mine, moving closer and closer until he is practically laying on my side, my arm trapped under his back and shoulder, his leg wrapped around my calf. I am pinned and my arm goes to sleep after a while. But I am as far over to the side as I can go, there is no more room to move.

Such an analogy of my life.

And my Bel, I have missed you too, so very much that I could kiss you! But I have avoided coming onto Second life to see you. We both know that we will talk of these things and Joshua is as ever present to my conversations as before. Nearly nothing is private from him and I don’t want to have to explain to him. He will know that we speak away from Second Life, he will want to know how you know so many things when we “haven’t” spoken as far as he knows. He will be suspiscious and start snooping. He might invade this last little santuary I have left. Do you know that he looks through the trash and recycling on the pretense that “there may be something  important in there”? Nothing is off limits, I have nowhere to hide anything.

He asked me the other night why I never write in my journal anymore… I nearly blurted “Why would you even ask? It’s not like I can tell the truth in it anyways!” Yes, he checks it, he knows where it is and he knows if I’ve written anything.  (It makes my sick to think he reads it, just like my brother and his friends did when I was a young teenager… they made fun of me and wrote comments throughout the journal, taking every bit of comfort I gained from writing and shitting all over it. I burned that book and didn’t write again until after Eric and I split up when Dryden was 2). But I try to shrug it off…  I still stay entirely away from this blog when I am at home, and I never check the email from there either. 

And sexual urges, what are those anymore?  My Bel, so much is crushed inside me, I am not the sexual person I was even a year ago. I used to be spontanious, even vicious in my lust but now, it has all been “talked” out of me, there is no shiny packages to open anymore, only unwrapped gifts where the instructions give you so much information that you don’t even attempt to play with it… The item inside the box just takes to much effort to enjoy.

I don’t know how to explain to you that I limp along, trying to find ways to make or break Joshua and I. I was once intrigued with our relationship, I was more willing to walk blindly beside him. But now, my heart is not there. I am no longer “bold” as you put it, my sexual actions are only cautious reactions.

And Joe… I find it timely that you wrote of trust issues. Does he have a reason to trust me? No, not in the slightest, I am no more steadfast in my commitment than I was before, he has every right to be concerned, I WANT him to be concerned, so much so that he can’t take it any longer. But on the other side of the coin, I don’t trust him either, I don’t forgive him for continuing to punish me, for his silent encouragement for me to punish myself. I am angry that he thinks my lack of past judgement in some areas makes me unable to correctly decide on current areas of my life. He doesn’t trust that I know what is right and what is wrong. He doesn’t realize that it’s all relative anyways.

I wonder why, over and over, WHY doesn’t he get tired of me? Why doesn’t he take the final step and walk away? I don’t trust that it is because he loves me, I think it is because he is as afraid as I am of not being able to live without the other. We are each afraid of how different things would be, at least now we know what to expect from the other…

Anyways, thank you both for responding. Joe, I hope you can weild a strong sword against your demons. And Bel… I miss you my sweet girl. I wish you were here so I could kiss your face and tell you I am ok. 

Kim

 

On Gorean Rollplay and my slaves

at the airport in Rio, wating for the flight the mobile has hotmail on it..
 
My Kim (may I?)
 
 Since some time I have been thinking of sending you this book, Story of O, by Pauline Reage, but I didnt know how. Yesterday when I came home I started looking in the computer — no SL :( — and found this link to to an ebook version  you can download for US $1.90 or so: http://ebooks.ebookmall.com/title/story-of-o-reage-ebooks.htm
I first read it when I was 15. I was already — and still am — an avid reader, and went through all I could lay my hands on. It was an old book, as I liked them, yellow cover, in French. I couldn’t understand many expressions, but I did definitely grasp for the first time that sex is power play, and that contraty to life, the reward may be in winning as well as in loosing.
The freedom O finds in submiting to her lover, and later to the man he gives her to; the pleasure she experiences in being a “non-entity”, used by whomever desires her; the changes in her body made by her masters to make her more available, all that penetrated my body.
That book make me experience the first of many orgasms I would have, and still do, by reading or just by imagining. I locked myself on the tiny veranda we had at the apartment where we lived in Buenos Aires and figured I was O, in all fours, being enlarged to fit the masters. The affair I had with the gardener at the country house was my desire to make it happen.
That book is an important part of my life and I want to share it with you. So important that I rewrote it to bring the story to a happy ending :) If you enjoy the “original” I can try to translate what I did and show you one day.
 
 Your Bel
 
I would like so much to hear from you…
***********************************************

I spent some time looking over the Story of O and I am intriqued. Right now, I have about 7 books to read… One, being The Russian Concubine, is nearly finished, perhaps another 5 hours at most. I’ve also started the fifth in the series of Gor, although I have read a few books out of order and researched quite a bit. There are three available to read now at our home. Plus… my Blue Notebook, The History of Orgasm’s and Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure…
 
I will indeed buy a copy of the Story of O so that I can better understand your deepest needs and how to approach you as my submissive. I am searching myself now, looking for the ways that I naturally am, controlling but not so cruel I hope. This is difficult on Joshua, he is naturally more submissive but has been taught to think he has to be a macho man… so he tries. Yet he really IS strong… such a hard man to understand, we are both complicated I guess. It makes things interesting but often tense…
 
I spent some time with the boy slave last night on Second Life. I punished him with the whip you gave me, in a way I am sad that you were not the first to taste it’s leather but… in a way I am glad for that as well. I have a very difficult time punishing you for some reason. Anyways, he had left the house and when I came online he was not at home. I beat him with 8 lashes and made sure he understood he was never to leave unless I told him so. But later, we went to the fighting arena and he sparred with one of the island’s Warriors. They fought 4 times and the Warrior narrowly bested him 3 times, it was very close and thorn(the name of my boy slave) won one match so I was proud. I gave him permission to wander the island after the match but that he was to return home when he was done or we would all come looking for him …. I think you are right, he liked to be able to spar with the Warrior :)
 
I hope you are safe were you are, I should get back to work now.
 
Mistress
 
*****************************************

My Kim,
 
So glad you answered! I am now at the hotel business center in Brasilia, waiting for Master (smile). We are going to the Congress to meet a representative. I have never been there and am curious to see the building, considered to be of ultra modern architecture. If I was not a journalist I would be an architect. Or an anthropologist. I am not sure. Maybe I will one day. I am happy to know that Story of O called your attention. And would like much to learn your opinion. I am now reading Magicians of Gor, after having finished Tarnsman of Gor. I have also Priest Kings of Gor to read, plus Mercenary of Gor. Brought the first one here, to read it on my bed and to  “kiss the missing” as we say here: “matar as saudades”.
 
Your Bel

**************************************

Your girl thinks that in rl(real life) power games are to be restricted to sex, either in bed or out of it, but always referred to male-female relationship. Out of bed me and my lover are quite equal. Well, not quite, he generally follow my opinions, but I dont do that for pleasure. I mean, even if I lead him this is not a sexual thing, it is just a difference in personality, and sometimes he leads me as well. But in sex matters we do role play, and he can be my slave as well as my master. OMG, how much I like it! He is now starting to talk about a place he knows where girls do amateur strip tease on the top of a bar, watched by their boyfriends and by whoever is there. There is also a unisex sauna, and there are rooms on the second floor with no doors! I dont know if I would have the guts, but I am feeling curious. He talks about it when we are making love and this arises me very much. Should I go Maitresse? Please tell me. 
The other day when I met thorn, and Maitresse was not there,  he carried a bow and arrows. Can he do so? I am glad he put the warrior down once. I will tell him to train hard so he can beat others more often and Maitresse will be proud of him. From what I learned, and from what I read in the books, kajirus are rare, specially fighting kajirus, and Maitresse owns one!  A fighting kajirus and perverse kajira together, isnt that something?
 
I love you
Your girl

 

A sexual lesson…

I never thought any marriage would be like this. It reminds me of a bedspread I’ve had for years, it’s warm and cozy, soft and worn through in places, but embarrassing in it’s faded color and stained exterior.  Maybe it’s brilliance is like the well oiled machine, the knowing of habits and acts, the familiarity of inflection and stance. Maybe it is in the simple function, that the product remains nearly the same with each rotation through the cycle…

 WHY!!! Grrrr… Why don’t I want him!!!! I should, even now he is becoming more bold, he wants to keep me. He wants me to be happy. And I am pushing just enough to train him but… I feel  nothing. There is nothing still…

Training??? I suppose I should explain.

Ah, the “Game” of Second Life… Do any of you know about Gorean Rollplay? It has become a large part of my “second life” now. As a brief explanation, there are two types of people in Gorean Rollplay… Free and slave. I am Free and Joshua is Free. And I have a slave girl. Part of the relationship is sexual and the rest is dominance and hierarchy. She is in reality a 23 year old political intern from Brazil. (What is it with the interns??) We’ve played with my girl a few times sexually and the experience of FMF for Joshua is exciting. With this last experience he more boldly described the details of his fantasies…

(Joshua) … “feels the warm water of the bath enclose his arm as it slides down the side of “SLAVES” body. His hand reaches between her lips and spreads them apart. Using his thumb, he rubs her clit and watches her face as he touches her…”

(Joshua) … “holds the head of each girl, pressing theirs lips around each side of his cock, fucking both of their mouths at once…”

So… the tendancy is there. Clearly he would enjoy multi-partner sex but I am placed in the position of a agressor.  I have introduced this into our second lives as a way to “ramp up” to more serious sex play in the real world…. but I do not get very excited by it. By all means, I adore the word play and desprictiveness of virtual sex, but I just don’t find it stimulating with Joshua, a spill over from our real lives I’m sure.  And… I think women are beautiful, but there is little attraction beyond that. But it is a means to an end.

Before the affair, I would tell Joshua these thoughts of mine, and he would be turned on but if you’ve read any of this blog before then you know that he would not act on any of the fantasy’s. Firmly planted in our minds, he cared not to dislodge the soil from their roots. Now, when I speak of them, they are painful reminders to him of the things I looked for away from our marriage… or so he thinks. I will never admit to him how much of my heart still belongs to Marcel or that every little thing reminds me in some way of our time together. He will not admit to himself that I wanted to be with Marcel because I loved him, not because of some sexual fantasy. I think it makes it easier for Joshua to deal with what I’ve done if he looks at it in terms of lust and not love. The overwhelming desire to touch Marcel was manifested from my feelings, to look into his eyes, touch his cheek, lay beside him and laugh and talk. Like Joe (fellow blogger) said.. it was the intimacy I wanted with Marcel.

It is the intimacy that I can not seem to capture with Joshua…

 

 

Son of a…

(insert choice words here)

Just another little thing. I have been building a large scale castle in Second Life for a medival styled community. Joshua came home last night and saw that I was working it. I get up from the computer to check on dinner, start some more laundry, etc. He sits down and starts to change the stairs, which we had earlier agreed needed to be done to save space. Well, I was sorta okay with it and after I stood over his shoulder for a minute, he got up and let me get on again. Then he logs on from another computer and starts working on the castle with his own avatar. He’s more into it than I am so I decide I will  start work on another building that is needed for the community.

DAMNED if he doesn’t start moving the basic pieces before I even get the roof on! I looked at him and said, “What are you doing?” He says, “No offense but the pieces are not exact. I can’t allow that.”

I mean WHAT THE HELL? I was just starting on this building for Pete’s sake, it’s wasn’t anywhere near complete. Geez!

 

Weekend Review

Gardening in Winter????

Dirt! I finally got to touch the earth this weekend… an anomaly of winter in Colorado, warm sunshine and heated air funneled from the south up the face of the Rocky Mountains. It was “lick your lips and growl low in your throat”GORGEOUS on Saturday. Maybe I push too far when I say “gardening” but I did get a full day of yard work in… (closing my eyes and hugging myself) and then there was Sunday….

Huge fluffy flakes of snow hurled about on raging winds with a balmy 22 degrees as the high… Old man Winter has some fight in him still. Sigh…

Let’s see, we have a “new” kitty. I say “new” because she is 4 years old and I’ve known her since she was a kitten. I took her litter mate sister “Princess Pricilla, Queen of the Desert” when I bought my house about 4 years ago. The new kitty is called Happy, named by Wendy’s then 78 year old grandpa. Well… Grandpa died almost a year ago and Wendy has been looking after his two cats since he passed. Now the house is being sold, and the cats need homes. I know genetics counts for nothing in the cat world but I couldn’t let Happy go to a shelter after I’ve loved her sister so much. Hence, we have a “new” kitty.

Another thing worth mentioning was a nice little tryst in the shower on Friday night. The house was full of kids with no end in sight, the children had asked for sleepovers… what’s 1 or 2… or 3 more kids around?? So I ask Joshua to join me for a shower. One “hot” shower later, I am feeling well used and satisfied.

Only one other quick topic for this past weekend… more of a “reminder” than anything, but before that, let me say something. I touch the people I love, I always have and I love to be touched back. I never realized I was so tactile until I was made to go without, until then, it always seemed normal for me to touch, a non-issue so to speak. That being said, I decided to try to touch Joshua this weekend. When we sat down to dinner, I placed my leg next to his. When we went to sleep, I cuddled up to his back. When we were both on the Computer, I would rest my head on his shoulder for a minute as I paused in my search (we are at the same desk). I have learned to keep my touching to a bare minimum with Joshua… he doesn’t like to be touched. Great pair huh?!?!? Well…. I got a look for my efforts. The “you are annoying me” look that he is so famous for. So I said… “What’s up?”. “You’re just being touchy” he says. No reply from me, why should I? It will never make him like to be touched more or me want to touch less.

Maybe I will find a way to be content with “good enough” someday…

Terra

 

When the shit hit the fan…

… it made a HUGE mess!  October 8th, 2007… It’s like an anniversary but in reverse.

Like any other day, I called my husband, we chatted for a minute or so. But then he says… “I need to ask you about something… (silence)”.  Of course, my heart leaps into my throat… “What’s that?” I reply, as calmly as I can. “We’ll talk later” he says. I say “No, just tell me what it is or I’ll be nervous all afternoon, imagining things.” So he says “I found something on your Second Life profile… “he is my heart, he is my everything” and there is a picture of you dancing with a male avatar…” he trails off.

Now, I need to interupt and say something here. I hate lying, it rips me to shreds to lie. I have a guilty consious to begin with (again, thanks mom and dad). To lie makes me so critical of myself… I verbally belittle and abuse myself to no end after I’ve told a lie… And at the time he saw the quote in my avatar profile, there was some serious self abuse going on. I had to tell, I couldn’t stand it any longer.

I tell Joshua that I will explain after we finish with our son’s book club. We arrive at school and slowly climb the stairs… another death march in my marriage. We sit down and start the round of summary questions regarding the most recent book assignment. As the children around me jump up and down, one hand pushed so far into the air you’d think it would come out of socket, I sit quietly beside my husband, knowing that in less than an hours time I will ruin his life.

The club has ended and we drive to Wendy’s to drop off Dryden. She knows what I plan to do… she doesn’t think I should tell. I wish I had listened.

Not far down the street from Wendy’s house, there is a park. I want it to be in public but still private too. In park, the car turned off, I turn to him and ask… “What is the very worst thing you can imagine?” He looks at me… “I don’t know.. that you had a Second Life affair???” I nod, he says “Oh god, Kimberley. I knew it!” some more choice phrases come out of his mouth. And then I stop him and say “It’s more than that, more than a Second Life affair…”. He just looks at me so I continue “I slept with him… in real life.” Now he is the one that is silent… then slowly a look of utter disgust and shock comes over his face. Opening the door, he gets out, slams the door and walks to a bench on the other side of the park. I sit in the drivers seat, not crying, just stick still. I can’t seem to move.

After time stops and then sputters alive again, I see him turn around from the bench and he says “Aren’t you going to come after me???” I should have said no, but instead I get out of the car and walk to him.

I don’t remember much except that he slept at a friend of the families house that night and for several nights after that.

Over the next few weeks, I wavered. One moment convinced that I was done with the marriage, with him and that we would all be ok. Next moment, scared that he would take Sydney away from me and Dryden forever and that our children would end up like me; sick and sad too many days in their lives because of this crisis I had caused. So many things happened, so many thoughts in my head… I just couldn’t take it and that’s when the downward spiral into derangement really began.

During those following weeks, I lost my mind, my heart, my sister and my soul.

 

A secret confession

Today is just one of the days I miss him, terribly. One of the days when I think I should have kept my mouth shut and my mind clear enough to keep it a sweet secret. Then I could still talk to him, hear his voice… but now I am forced to scour the search engines for any clue to how he is. I can only look at the pictures he has left on the few sites I know of. Sometimes, I wish I wouldn’t have confessed to Joshua.

He had been suspicious before… dumb ass me… I had left a picture of Marcel’s dick in the recycle bin of my computer. (mmmm… such a delicious thing for me to think of) I had taken a picture of myself as well; clean shaven and wet. I had played with myself before the pictures, wanting to give him a visual taste of what existed on the other end of the world. I don’t have these pictures now, but I remember the slippery shine showed well on the photos.

I had never done that before… sent photos to someone on the internet… or by regular mail. Oh sure, I had posed for boyfriends and I’d almost bet there is a naughty spread eagle of me somewhere out there but to do this, on purpose, of my own choice… the thought had not ever crossed my mind before. 

By this time, Marcel and I had started to “cyber” in Second Life. What I initially thought would be silly and smack of “romance novel” was so damn erotic, I could hardly get enough. We would describe; sentence by sentence, in IM; just what we would do to each other, if we could only really touch each other. I would say something like “I would slide down the front of you, and get on my knees. Looking up at you… I’d reach up and unzip the front of your pants, rubbing your cock with the palm of my hand. I reach inside and feel your skin… it’s hot. mmmm”. He would then type somethkng like “Ja, my cock is getting harder as you touch it and I reach under your chin to force your eyes up to mine. With my other hand, I pull out my cock and rub it on your lips…”.

Makes me wet just thinking about it now!

I sent the pictures so he could have a visual of me when we talked dirty to each other, so it would be more real, so he could better imagine the things he was “doing” with me. BUT why did I not empty the computers recycle bin??? Well… I sure know alot more about “hiding” things now than I did then….

But now, this is the only thing I hide…  my memories and lost hopes.

 

A virtual background in Reality

KRCC and Suzanne Vega…..

These two things are the initial catalyst of my virtual life. I created a Second Life account in early 2007, with all the good clean intentions of exploring a virtual world for the first time. I had no experience with Sims, or any other virtual worlds for that matter, I was naive to the temptation and allure of anonymity.

When I first started exploring Second Life, it was through a computer at work. Ouch! I know, Can you say STUPID??? I worked in a small business, only myself and the owners. Needless to say, I spent quite a bit of time by myself and sometimes… the choices I made to entertain myself were not business related.

A few weeks into my virtual life, I decided that I needed to make “money”. There were only a few things that I could do; camp, dance or prostitute. I chose dance, more money than camping, more morals than prostituting. I skipped around a few sims, found a place and met a recruitor. We chatted over days and then weeks and I came to the conclusion that with my writing skills, I could make more as a virtual prostitute. It had only taken a few weeks to blur the line between right and wrong.

This recruiter offered to “teach” me the technical pieces of “the deed”.  Show me the programs available to animate my avatar into sexual positions, etc. He was funny, smart and a flirt. I decide why not? We get into it, and then…. STOP! I can’t do this! It felt wrong, I told this guy… “Virtual or not, I don’t want to be intimate with anyone but my real life husband”. Phew, good call on my part… We never went in that direction again, sometimes he would flirt with me but mostly, we just chatted and hung out.

And so I learned that I could buy the “money” I wanted for Second Life. It was fairly cheap to convert dollars to lindens (the name for “money” in Second Life).  And so I was safe again to wander without any consideration for an occupation. I played with the various hairs, the clothes, the dance clubs, the culture and generally lived the life of a virtual bum.

I’ve always loved art. All types of art; paintings, photos, sculpture, dance, music. It’s moving, some beautiful and some strange, I am in awe of the abstract directions in which our human minds travel. I searched in Second Life… Aha! An art gallery, perfect! And zap… I am whisked away and deposited into a grey landscape of shapes. Slowly, images start to appear and gain focus. I am waiting patiently, and I see chat pop up at the bottom of the screen. I look around, and see another grey shape, this time a male avatar. I see no one else, and so I respond. But he ignores me… Ooops, chat not meant for me, got it. It happens sometimes, and I proceed to walk around.

The gallery is in a courtyard, two levels. Beautiful photos, one picture is of  “The Beatles” manipulated into the black and white braches of a barren tree. I keep walking and again see his avatar. He is in the last section of photos that I havn’t looked at yet. I walk up, hmmm …. frogs…. and flowers. I respect frogs and I REALLY love flowers.

And then… “I’m sorry I bothered you” and he walks away. I hit history and I see he has been speaking to me as I look at the pictures. How rude of me! I fly to him and say “The one with the daylily, with the drops of water on the petals, that’s the one I like the most” (complete with a smiley face emoticon, to make sure he doesn’t think I’m a bitch.) I explain, I was focused, sorry, wasn’t ignoring and such. We laugh. Like I said, people miss the chat in Second Life.

So we browse together, looking at the pieces he likes best. Pointing out details that I missed and vice versa. And I sit on the virtual floor whiel he stands, we chat more and the time passes quickly. I look at the bottom right side of my screen… “YIKES!” I have to get my son in 10 minutes. I say so and just as I am logging out a friend request pops up. I accept and then I am offline.

Sitting now and thinking of that day, I remember everything so clearly. The beginning was chance, the friendship was genuine. And the love crept up so slow and with such stealth, that when it finally hit me, I was knocked to my knees and left gasping for air. Never had I been friends with a man. Men had roles and were neatly placed in catagories. Every man I had known was a husband, boyfriend, brother, father or son before all else to me.

But never a friend…

What was I supposed to do now?