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Posts Tagged ‘owner/property’

Little Lightning Bolts v. Rayne’s Clit

September 23rd, 2013 7 comments

Capture“No, I’m not getting this out to play with you,” he said, as he moved the stack of erotica off the Neon Wand box, and took off his wedding ring.

“No fair!” I yelled, as I continued to go about my business.

“Why would I try it on you first? That’s dumb,” he retorted.

“You’re such a good dom,” I said, rather patronizingly. Master tries everything first. Video games, books, cooking some new recipe we’ve found…he sees it as his right as the master. I suppose he’s right, but I don’t have to be happy about it.

If you’re about to say I should be happy if he’s happy, just stfu. I know you know I know this.

“Well, if I’m going to cause excruciating pain,” he said, “I want it to be intentional.”

Gee, I thought as I watched him run the toy up and down his arms and legs. Thanks. Read more…

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“No Limits” Is No Badge Of Honor

August 30th, 2013 2 comments

Happy_birthday_to_me_by_Melens_rayneI don’t have limits. Let’s talk about what that means.

I’m owned by Melen, and with that, I gave him the right to decide what I will and will not do. I flat out said, “I will do anything you want me to.”

He said, “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

I said, “I mean it.”

Of course, there are things that I know he will never do. Read more…

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Does it count as being “kept” if you do all the housework?

August 27th, 2013 4 comments

imageNot long after we moved to New York, my ex was arrested and convicted of selling marijuana to minors. The kid who snitched was a 17-year-old with a promising sports career, a week from his eighteenth birthday, trying to get out of a possession charge. My ex was far from the big-time thug he was in Virginia, but we lived in a tiny town and the town government was afraid of him and all he represented.

They posted his name in the paper, which was not something they typically did, but they wanted us out of their town, and the best way to do that, they thought, was to make it impossible for us to live there. Unfortunately, the only thing they accomplished was making it impossible for me to find work or shelter with which to raise my children. I mean, my ex was in jail. By the time he got out, everyone had forgotten his name, and I’d finally managed to find a place after surfing on strangers’ couches with four children for a year.

It took literally losing everything we had (for the third or fourth time) in a fire for that to happen. The Red Cross probably saved our lives. Mine and my kids’, anyway. Their father was still in prison. You should donate to the Red Cross every chance you get. We do.

This was also the third or fourth time I’d found myself homeless because of something my ex did, and there were times when I couldn’t find a place to crash. So when I met Master, and before we even discussed BDSM beyond my acknowledging his interest in it, two of my hard limits were having stable finances and a place to live. Read more…

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Setting the Mood: Consent in Long Term Relationships

August 20th, 2013 1 comment

LSomething we talk about a lot in kinky circles, around the sexblogosphere, and just about everywhere in the post-Steubenville world, is consent. What it is, what it isn’t, how to get it, what to do if you don’t get it (stop? duh?), whether or not it can be achieved with coercion, how it’s affected by drugs and alcohol…

Something we don’t talk a lot about is consent in long term relationships. I mean, we do to some extent. For a little while, the hot topic was whether or not it’s rape if the couple is married (it is), and what, exactly, is owed to your partner in a long term relationship. But I’m always a little nonplussed by the idea of consent in LTRs. I mean, it feels silly to constantly ask your partner of 5, 10, 35 years, “Is this okay? Do you mind if I touch you here? Can I penetrate you, now?” Especially if you’re in a healthy relationship with a healthy spouse who has never expressed an issue surrounding consent before.

Maybe that’s just me. Me and Master, anyway, because he agrees with me. (Though believe me, I’m not saying either of us is 100% healthy—mentally, or otherwise.) Read more…

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Sometimes there’s only one thing left to say.

July 23rd, 2013 2 comments

MeGaggedYesterday, Master turned to me and said, “Why don’t you get the dishes done and then get in the shower?”

And I snapped, “I’m writing.”

I mean, I was…sort of. I was actually surfing the web for a topic, and had veered off into the weeds a little. Apparently, Miley Cyrus said she feels like a man in an interview, and now people are wondering if she’s questioning her sexuality. So I was searching around trying to figure out what the fuck they were talking about, as if that has any business on any of the sites I currently write for. But I thought maybe I could squeeze a post out of it, ya know?

Yeah, that was dumb. The weed combing and the snapping at Master.

I made a big to-do about getting up and doing the dishes afterward, as if I had any right, and then I stomped off to the shower. And while I’m scrubbing, he pokes his head in and says, “Hey, maybe we should communicate with each other, instead of you going off? What do you think?”

What else could I say, but, “Yes, Master.”

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He hears me.

July 19th, 2013 6 comments
Cold_Sunset_by_Melen

Cold Sunset by Melen (@Mindcryme)

A long time ago, Master and I got into the fight to end all fights. We have never gotten into another argument like it since, and I hope like hell that we never do again. At some point in our arguing, he looked me straight in the eye, and said, “Rayne, every time we do this, you lose something. You need to knock it off, or everything will be gone before you know it.”

I brushed it off as Master trying to blackmail me into giving him his way.

Stop laughing. It’s really not funny.

Okay, so it’s a little funny.

I was such a kid when I got involved with this man. And I was coming out of an abusive relationship with a boy who did, regularly, blackmail me to get his way. When that didn’t work, he tried other methods, like fake suicide attempts and armed robberies. Read more…