Where to begin?

Indeed. It has been a full month...full of lessons and orgasms and ponderings and pleasure. Loooots of pleasure. Since last I wrote, I have had several more glorious times with the Magician, spent hours in scintillating conversation with a long distance...friend? Lover? Mentor? Clergy? ...uh, yes, and had long, involved talks with Apollo about time and schedules and why this (poly-non-monogamy thing) is so important to me.

A few of the lessons I have learned:
- Kink is better sober. And not just because of safety issues. I genuinely process pain a lot better when I'm sober. Of course, I don't think the state I'm in after engaging in sexual or kinky activities counts as sober per se...but alcohol is best left out of it. :)
- When I get uncomfortable with a situation, it's often hard for me to sort out what it is about that situation which isn't working. Fortunately, I have someone in my life who's very wonderful about presenting ways for me to get at the heart of situations. :D
- D/s activities will stay within the context of a scene. As much as I'm fascinated by this dynamic and want to explore it, Thou Shalt Not Tell Joy To Come in Public. No one has that privilege with me, to exert their power when it's not clearly defined that I'm giving it to them. What made this instance worse was that I was coming down from a brief scene, so I was already in subspace, in compliance-space. So when the order came, I complied automatically, even as my brain was screaming that "All of these people don't have the privilege of seeing you at this level of vulnerability...no, no, no!"
- One interesting thing about multiple relationships is the conception (in my head) that they should all be moving at the same rate. If I'm comfy giving oral sex to X, I should be comfortable giving it to Y too because I've been involved with them for the same length of time. This really isn't so. But it's been an interesting thought patten to come up against. It also adds to the feeling of wonder and uniqueness to realize that each relationship is distinct. Each has its own rules and boundaries, and just because something works in one relationship does not mean that it will work in all of them. They are separate entities.
- When I deal with and confront the things that are making me uncomfortable in a relationship, my attraction to the person goes way up. Surprise, surprise.
- This exploration of poly/non-monogamy is not just my hedonism, my selfishness. This is part of Me. This is part of who I am and part of what fulfills me as a person. And it is part of my calling to make sure that I explore and fulfill that.

Most recently, I have begun learning that I can take pain. Lots (for me) of it. Before my most recent playdate with RHF, we had discussed and reevaluated boundaries. He wanted more sexual contact. I was not, and am not ready for that with him - largely because I was not comfortable (see above lessons). We talked about the things that were making me uncomfortable, and he was very gracious about resolving them in a manner which indicated that he genuinely respected my boundaries and cared for my welfare. As sexual contact (of some sorts) was still a bit touchy with us, I mentioned that I'd like to start pushing my limits with regard to pain...see how much I really could take.
Aaaaand, now my ass is an interesting shade of purple. :P He began by spanking me. Now, spanking in and of itself does not really crank my engine. I mean, I much prefer the set of connotations that go with flogging to those that go with bare-handed spanking. But, it wasn't bad. It was a surprisingly powerful sensation - surprisingly strong pain. When he switched to a wooden paddle, I had my first thought that afternoon of "Should I safeword? This really fuckin' stings..." But I held on. Rode it. And it was like riding a wave, cresting and coasting. Eventually he stopped, and put me up on the cross to begin flogging me. Mmm. He pushed it into the area where it was hurting, where I was not constantly in my Serene-Yoga-Breathing place. But...I could step back, I found. I could turn my attention to my breath and just be in it. Or I could suffer the pain and squeal. Both were interesting experiences. I really, really want to be pushed far, far with flogging. I like it so much more than most other impact play that I've tried thus far - though of course other instruments and methods have their place. Anywho.
After he flogged me, he had me come, several times, with manual stimulation. Then, as I was still riding the edges of my last authorized orgasm, he placed the Hitachi between my legs. I screamed, and my fading orgasm reasserted itself, crashing back over me. "You'd better not be coming," he said. But...my brain said...but I wasn't done, when you turned that thing on! I...aw, damn. "Sorry, sir," I whispered. Immediately, the Hitachi stopped. I felt a tapping against my ass, something thin and cruel. He did not hit me, it felt, with much force, but oh gods, it was painful. My first caning. I felt myself nearing catharsis, nearing tears, nearing a letting go of something... but then he stopped. And I was grateful. I wasn't sure that I could have taken what would have been required to push me over that line. I had thought, several times, about calling out, about making it stop. But then, there was always that part of me, reminding me that I could step back. That I didn't have to be suffering so intensely (which is not the same as not feeling it...I still felt, but it wasn't bad, it just was). That I could do more, take more, even a just a little more. Looking back, I probably could have taken the pain needed to push me over the edge into Whatever Was Waiting, but I'm rather glad it didn't happen then.
I went home feeling....tired. So wrung out. In a good way, but wrung out. Apollo was a bit incredulous when he saw my ass...a little stunned, little shocked. I was too, frankly. But it's all good. It doesn't hurt at all, really, just looks like it should.

And now, to prepare for Apollo's homecoming (poor boy has to work weekends now, gorramit.) and the activities planned for tonight. *grins*

"Beg"

That's what he said. It was a week ago, my second formal playdate with RHF. We went out for sushi (a first for me!), and back to his place for BDSM. We'd agreed: Below the waist is fine, but manual stimulation only. No oral, no intercourse. Honorifics would be used.
"Do you want something?" he asked, after he'd flogged me well, and left a sizable bruise on my ass with his palm. He'd finally taken my panties off, and was slowly creeping up my inner thighs.
"Mm-hmm," I moaned.
"What do you want, then?" he inquired. Oh gods. I was already so high, so high...I could have just stayed there, as long as he kept touching me. I didn't care, didn't know what I wanted, just that I wanted.
"I don't know...just...I don't know, Sir." His fingers made contact with my labia, and I shuddered. They split my lips, teasing me, just brushing my clit. "How much do you like to be teased?" he had asked, while we were discussing limits for today. So much, I told him. So much. In this space, teasing...isn't. It is its own fulfillment.
"Have you found words again?" he asked, "Can you tell me what you want now?" I had the feeling that he was looking for something along the lines of "I want to come," but that wasn't in me. I didn't specifically want an orgasm...I was happy where I was.
"I...I...want something in my cunt, please, Sir." Penetration, though, yes. That, I craved.
"Beg." Quiet. Struggling within myself for words. Struggling to ask for what had always been freely given.
"Please...Please Sir. Please."
"Please what?"
"Please Sir, please put your fingers in my cunt." And two fingers, immediately, inside me. My knees bent reflexively, bearing down, aching with sudden need. My arousal rose to that plateau of orgasmic bliss, and I cried out.
"Remember, you have to ask before you can come." Shit. I had forgotten, because he hadn't specifically reminded me beforehand, that he likes to practice orgasm control. Shit. Part of me wanted to confess my sin, but I was still on Orgasm Plateau, that place where I'm flying in orgasmic bliss, with random Peaks of even more intense pleasure. I couldn't figure out if I should, how I should, or how to explain myself if I were to confess. So I asked.
"Please sir, please may I orgasm?"
"Beg." But I am begging, I thought. What more does he want? I tried to let go even more, let my most uninhibited self speak, but all she could say was "please".
"Please, please Sir, Please let me orgasm. Please. Please!"
"Come." I tightened my Kegels, and got a Peak, crying out. He withdrew slowly, and helped me sit on the ledge at the bottom of his cross. I lay my head on my arms, panting and weak. There was a tearing sound, like a condom wrapper.
"You might want to look and see where this condom is going," he said, but I didn't need to. I knew. When he found out that I'd never used a vibrator before, he decided that this session would introduce me to the Hitachi Magic Wand. He had it on the "low" setting, and placed it between my legs. Ahh. Pleasant...though if I shifted, just a bit, it landed on my clit - and suddenly, I began to understand. He kicked it up into high gear, and I only barely remembered to choke out "Please, please Sir, may I orgasm? Please, I need to." Silence.
"Please Sir! Please, oh please. Let me orgasm sir, please!" Finally, after a few repetitions, I heard:
"Come." I screamed.
"Come." A cry.
"Keep coming." Guttural moans, all the while pressing myself against the Hitachi, feeling an exquisite-ness to the orgasm that normally doesn't happen with clitoral orgasms, normally reserved for the Almighty G-Spot.
Finally he turned it off. Finally he helped me to the bed, disrobed himself, and snuggled with me. After I had my brain back, I 'fessed up to my Unauthorized Orgasm. "I know. You get one free day. Don't do it again."
And I lay there wondering, and I'm still wondering, how on Earth I'm going to manage it. The Orgasm Plateau, for me, is a place that I come to suddenly, without warning, when one little thing goes very right...no telling what that'll be. And on that plateau, it's several minutes of deeply orgasmic bliss with small peaks, but even the baseline is ecstatic and orgasmic. What do I do, for orgasm control? Ask before I hit a peak? Ask before I hit the Plateau, period? I don't understand. I really doubt that I can hold back either the peaks or the Plateau. It almost makes me want to forgo the whole orgasm thing in general in the context of kink. I mean, not that it wasn't nice, but I feel well-fucked from a good flogging, with no actual orgasm involved. And there's no stress about holding off, or defining what is or is not an orgasm.
On an unrelated note, none of the sex bloggers I read/have read ever mention the fact that pressing oneself enthusiastically against the Hitachi can result in one's labia feeling bruised. For days. That was interesting.
I'm still processing the begging thing. It didn't feel wrong...but, again, like I didn't know what he wanted. I don't mind asking for something...it was kind of sexy to plead. But, at the same time, it's difficult. Difficult to form words, difficult to form ideas.

In still other news, Happy Beltane! Wendy encourages everyone to take advantage of warmer temperatures and take the fucking outside. For this Beltane, I will be attending a Voltaire concert, priestessing a ritual, and having snuggle time with the Magician tomorrow. And then Pentacost is next week...all my red clothes are getting a workout!