Ev's kink corner

If you have a partner and you say to me, "I'm poly," and you want to play with me, I will want to talk with your partner. In person, or on video chat. 

I will do this to establish consent.

I will do this because, in the past, someone I knew for years, whom I trusted, who had a sterling reputation in the community we were in, told me "my wife consents to me having other partners, she just doesn't want to know who or hear anything about it."

This turned out to be not at all true.

I do get that some people DO have consent from their partners to play with others, but they DON'T want to meet the person. Honestly, that's fine for some people, but to me it doesn't seem like the couple in question is really ready for polyamory. That thought aside, if I cannot talk to the partner, I have no way of really knowing whether or not it is this sort of "out of sight, out of mind" version of consensual polyamory, or a liar who is cheating.

You might know that you would NEVER lie about this sort of thing. I am not you. I don't actually know this.

After having been lied to a great many times about stuff like this, even by people I knew quite well, it is a universal policy of mine. I want to meet your partner. We don't have to become best friends. I just need to know they consent. 

If you flip out and say "well don't you TRUST me? You shouldn't play with me if you won't take me for my word!" I will wonder why you would be unwilling to verify this. 

It's like STD tests. That is a rule everyone in my poly group follows- we have a 4 person fluid bond. Me, my Master, his secondary, and her husband. I have sex with my Master, he has sex with his secondary, and she has sex with her husband. That's four people I'm protecting the health of, including my own. In order to be fair and as safe as we can be, we both discuss STDs with prospective partners (and require full disclosure) and also need to see test results. 

If a person has money, has insurance, or has access to something like Planned Parenthood, they can get tested. If they refuse, that's kind of a red flag. Have a monogamous wife I don't know about who can see on your family health plan that you got STD tests? Have an STD you don't want me to know about? Hm.

So, getting cagey about things like that make me wonder why. They aren't unreasonable requests at all. I absolutely LOVE when a prospective partner of Master's checks in with me to make sure everything is ok. I like and respect them a lot more for it. I feel more comfortable with them, and trust them more. I am more likely to be really flexible with scheduling so they can have time with him when their schedules match up. I am actually poly, and actually okay with being poly. I would rather know who my Master is with, because I want a sense of the kind of people they are. I love and care about my Master, and want him to be treated well by others. I also want to be sure we will get along, if things get really serious. 

My orientation is polyamorous. I naturally love and deeply bond with more than one person at a time.

The relationship model I practice as a poly person is also one that involves deeply bonded relationships. I have a couple friends with benefits, whom I care about quite a lot too, but what I am looking for now is someone who, if things go well, may eventually become a part of my leather family. This means a partner who isn't going to hide me away like a dirty little secret, only to be seen on lunch breaks, in a hotel room, or on a business trip, without the knowledge of their other partners. That's not being family.

"Poly" doesn't mean "cheating on monogamous partner." If you are poly as an orientation, you need to be honest with yourself about it and decide whether you would rather stay with your mono partner and suppress that part of who you are, or break things off with your mono partner and live as a polyamorous person, with the informed consent of your partners. 

Master and I went to the Wicked Grounds work party. He is grumpytired because I woke him up early to run errands while I was at work. We are waiting for this table I painted to completely dry so that I can coat it with polyurethane. The heart will have streaks instead of speckles of copper glittery pigment, but it'll still be fun and pretty. 😄 I'm going to come paint more tables over time, too!

Wicked Grounds is saved!!!! Thank you thank you thank you!

Y'all, everyone here who donated, if you ever get out here to visit, coffee is on meeeeee! <3

Wcked Grounds, the center of the San Francisco kink community, safe harbor for people of all kinds, might be saved! They have $12,000 of their $15,000 needed goal on Patreon. Rent in San Francisco is insane. The need for a space like this is so great, though. A place for people to negotiate safely, meet safely, speak openly, have munches, classes, and find support. They even give drinks and food to those who cannot afford them or are having a very hard time-consuming they have done so for me, in the past. 

I have permission to give the Patreon link to anyone who is interested in supporting them. Send me a private message, if you feel so moved to! 

Thank you!

 

Just got another monthly gig offer. Every bit helps! 

 

On top of that, though, Wicked Grounds has a glimmer of hope on the horizon. I don't know if I can post a Patreon link here, but I am guessing one could look it up. 

 

If they can get $15,000 in total Patreon pledges, they will be able to keep the doors open and remain the beating heart of the San Francisco kink community.

Imagine a cafe where kinky folks can openly be who they are, talk about kink, and safely meet with new people. A place to learn, and a place where yelling "RED" will get a room full of people instantly having your back and seeing g to your safety. A place to interact with all different kinds of folks. A place where no one has to hide. 

 

I pledged, and I'm hoping others will, too. They are a third of the way there!  

 

I love them all so much. I really believe that the existence of this place has saved lives. 

 

Wicked Grounds is suddenly closing. They didn't say why.

I first went there not long after it opened, when the first people who decided to give it a go finally got all the licensing they needed.

I went there the first day I met my beloved Master, Ashigeru. 

I went there when I found out my other partner had terminal cancer, because it was my safe space. 

I went to a lot of munches, met a lot of people, had a lot of conversations and a lot of wonderful interactions.

I'm just devastated. It feels like our community has suddenly had it's heart cut out. I don't really know where to go from here, to be honest. 

And my genetic auotimmune disease has flared again. Looks like maybe the treatment didn't work.

2018, you are not making me happy so far.

I say fear, because that is the root of most intolerance in the world.

Most fear that causes intolerance is fear of the unknown. 

I sat across from my mother at a little paint-your-own pottery place. Shocked. Tears streaming.

"What's wrong?" she asked me.

"Don't worry about it," I replied.

I couldn't tell her why. I couldn't tell her because I knew it would not just cause a scene. It would cause a rift, and my heart just couldn't take any more grief.

Any more loss.

I looked at my mother, trying to make sense of the words that had jus come out of her mouth.

My mother, who delivered meals to AIDS patients. Who marched for equality. 

My mother, who had me come down to SoCal to talk to members of her congregation because she wanted them to understand how to respectfully treat and speak to transfolk, when their choir director walked into the church one day, no longer trying to pretendshe was something she knew in her heart of hearts that she was not.

My mother, who, when she was young, got on a bus and traveled for hours and hours to march with Martin Luther King.

How were these words coming out of her mouth?

"Well, I just don't AGREE with it. I don't think it's right. It's not natural. They shouldn't be FLAUNTING it in PUBLIC."

All things that had been said by hateful, fearful people over the years, when talking about mixed race relationships. When talking about gay couples. When talking about transfolk. When talking about so many vulnerable people who have done nothing, NOTHING wrong, only had the bravery to be true to who and what they are. 

I had brought up, oh-so-casually, the concept of polyamory. I had told her it was becoming quite common to see poly dynamics in the bay area- relationships with more than two people, all consenting adults, who love more than one person. A parent, I told her, can love more than one child. A child can love more than one parent. A sibling can love more than one sibling. A person can love more than one friend. There are people, I said, who loved more than one person in the romantic sense, too, and when they are lucky, are able to form a family with more than one person.

"Oh, I've SEEN THEM, believe me," she said, "when your sister and I went to a music festival. They were all sitting on a blanket." Her voice was dripping with deirsion and disgust. "They shouldn't have been FLAUNTING it and SHOVING IT IN EVERYONE'S FACES like they were PROUD of themselves or something." 

"Were they doing something inappropriate for public? Anything monogamous couples don't do all the time without it bothering people?"

"Well... no, I guess not, but it's NOT RIGHT. I just can't agree with that."

We went back and forth, a little bit more, and then I dropped it. Salt blended with the glaze on the bowl I was painting.

I knew, in that moment, that I couldn't share my family with my parents. I would never have the support of my mom and dad, which I so desperately needed.

I knew, in that moment, that I couldn't tell her that one of my beloveds, with whom I had been for over four and a half years, was dying, and I was so heartbroken. I couldn't tell her that it broke my heart twice over, becuase I felt so helpless while the cancer ate away at him, made him suffer, robbed him of everything that made him who he was, stole away his dignity, his light, quieting his great, strong hands... and because he was pushing me away. Pushing me away so hard, while he lay there dying, that I hadn't even been able to see him for two months. That I wasn't sure I'd ever see him alive again.

I'd talked about him, but not who he was in my life. Not that he was a beloved partner. So close to my heart. She'd made sympathetic noises, but as far as she knew, he was a friend, and a bit of a mentor, but I have many friends. She didn't know, and wouldn't ever know, I realized, that I felt so alone in my grief at times. That I wasn't ready to lose a partner, not like this, so soon. That when he died, he'd leave a crater in my heart. That the grief weighed on me, every day, like a great stone in my chest, choking me, coating my tongue in ash.

And that someday, if I ever found someone who cared enough to love me, to show my little family that they were safe and could be trusted, to become a part of our family, I would have to fight like hell, and I might lose my beloved parents.

Because I will never treat my family like a shameful secret. I will NEVER hurt someone by making them pretend to be "just this friend of mine." I will never be someone's dirty little secret again, and I will never put someone in that place. I will never treat someone I love like they have to be hidden, like they aren't worthy of being loved, and being introduced, with pride, as family.

Never. 

I learned to stand up, to fight, to be brave.

I learned it from the persom my mother once was.

I don't think I'll run an ad any more. 

It's just disheartening. If I do meet someone, I will be delighted and surprised. Seems unlikely I'll be finding a secondary any time soon though. 

On the plus side-

Last night, my Master took me, bent over the edge of my bed. We played with the sreap I gave him for Yule. It was so hot. Sex with him is always so hot. 

This morning, my friend with some benefits put me in Subspace, gave need orgasms, and shared his gorgeous body with me. Then he took me to the airport. 

I got paid and tipped well for the maid work I did for some friends in the local BDSM community. 

I'm now with my beloved family. My parents, their dogs, and tomorrow we will be joined by my sister and her husband. 

Tomorrow I also get to see a dear old friend who moved to Seattle. She is going to remove my sutures. No more sutures, yay! 

Tomorrow, well, later today, we are having our late Christmas with the family. 

Thought I had a chance at something new and wonderful with someone... But I do have a lot of blessings in my life, as it is. 

Someone interested in potentially eventually getting involved ACTUALLY READ MY PROFILE and proved it in Bond.

This is a Cage first for me, hah! 

Miracles do exist.

Today a package arrived in the mail, addressed to me. 

When I opened it, I discovered a penis stuffy. 

One of my friends had purchased a lot of 6 of them, and gifted me with one, lol! 

Well, now I have a little buddy to help me with my warm compresses. 

Laughed my ass off when I opened the package! 

The bruising from my surgery has mostly faded, and while the dead white patches that are numb still worry me, the healing is going well. The wound seems nice and clean. 

Today I managed shopping, and even was able to cook a standing rib roast feast! 

Master had to work from home, going through painfully obvious "refresher training" about terrorists, how you should stand in the shade if it is hot, and how ticking packages are suspicious. 

T h a n k s. 

I'd been hoping to try a bit of play today, but by the time he was done with work, we were both tired and not feeling great, so he tucked me in bed. Going to try to sleep in a few. 

I still yearn so much for a leather family. A little household of people who love and watch out for one another. A second Dom for me to cherish and serve, and a second sub that I can get along well with. 

It's a sweet dream, anyway. 

'least I've got Mister Choad.