All About Polyamory

Are you new to polyamorous relationships? Do you want more resources? Would you like to learn all about polyamory? Welcome to your master list of resources for polyamory relationships and more!

So, you’ve met someone new and you’re working to get a compatibility score with them. How do you figure out how compatible you are?

33 Questions to Ask Potential Partners

Above are 33 Questions to ask a potential polyamorous partner!

Maybe you’re not there yet and the issue is finding your potential polyamorous partner.

Where to find Polyamorous Partners

Click the link for a post on how to find your potential polyamorous partner!

Flowers for my Master

My Master is a worthy man. A great and a good man. He is kind and thoughtful. He is demanding but fair. That I be exemplary in his name is all he asks. When I fail he lifts me back up. Should I falter, he is there to put me back in my place. He teaches me things so that I can be successful. He places great trust in me and I widen myself to meet his expectations.

The Master is a cruel man. A nasty and brutish man. He is quick to anger and quicker to condemn. He delights in every shuddered breath and piercing scream. He does not indulge. He commands. The Master rips and snarls and sneers. He does not ask. He poses hypotheticals. He teases, but only in choices of the macabre.

My Master considers things. He will take a problem and chew for hours. Then he will attack it every single way he knows how to do until it is solved. He allows me to escape into his worlds. He structures my days and makes events a celebration of life. My Master indulges me when I please him.

The Master destroys things. He will take something he loves and beat it for hours. Then he will call it pathetic and lazy and worthless. He drags me back from escaping his hell. Day or night has no meaning as time stands still in his presence. There is no pleasing the Master.

I love every inch of him.

A Story for Another Day 1

Back in December 2021 I had some sort of full-on catastrophic, traumatic mental breakdown for me and everyone involved. It was Yulemas, which is a kind of Friendsgiving for Christmas time, at my then-boyfriend’s (now-Master’s) house. We had all spent the night drinking heavily. At one point, I was bent over a kitchen counter and punished with a honing rod as a pervertible. At another point, my then-boyfriend’s then-wife slapped me.

Safe to say it was a crazy night for us all but oh-ho-ho it was about to get so much worse. The Mistress leaves for the night and my then-boyfriend begins wailing on me. He takes one of the wine bottles and with me laying on the floor in front of him, pours wine down my throat. I drink as much as I can, though some got all over my hair and neck.

He proceeds to strangle me by the neck and hit my face over and over again. Blissful. Magical. But then he leaves abruptly with us in his living room and he and his then-wife in their bedroom.

I begin to sob. I’m inconsolable. He left me. He left me for her. Earlier that night, without discussing it with her then-husband, my metamour announced that she and my Master were trying for a baby. I was triggered beyond words thinking about how empty my life would be if he left me because of her. And what do I always do when I’m in emotional distress?

Run away.

Fast-forward to being tucked into bed a drunken mess, I manage to shake my husband and my Master and duck out of the house with no shoes on. It was a blustery, winter night after a day of rain. My socks were soaked in seconds as I rushed along the sidewalk towards…

What I was going towards didn’t matter. It was only going away that mattered. Away from all the hurt. I could go back. I knew it even in the strange, dreamlike feelings I was having. But first I needed to breathe and I couldn’t do that until I hid. I climbed an iron fence into a field of mud. Tiny burrs prickled my frozen feet as I stepped forward into the paddock as a horse trotted up to me.

She was white and gleaming in the moonlight as I stood dumbfounded. I had grown up around horses, so I held my hand out to her nose and slowly began patting her neck. She nuzzled into my back with her large jaw. I looked around for something to get on top of her with, thankfully there were not any stools.

To be continued…?

The Smallest Spoon – Emotional Sadism in a BDSM Scene

Really, the first clue should have been when he shoved me in the chest until I fell over. But it wasn’t until much later that I realized the traps my Master had been setting.

“We’re all out of small spoons,” I said, handing over a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Master is particular when it comes to utensils. Small spoons are good, small forks are abhorrent.

“Why are we out?” He pounced at the opportunity.

“B-because I need to do dishes?” That wasn’t true. My other husband’s chores were dirty dishes. He had been grading all weekend and hadn’t had time. A few nights before, Master had begun putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher in order to be helpful. However, it triggered some powerful memories in me of my parents angrily doing the dishes. I asked him to just let me do them.

“Why couldn’t you hand wash one?” His face was stone cold.

“I’m sorry. I can go get one now.” I turned to go but he put out one hand to stop me.

“No.” He handed me his controller to the videogame he had been playing.

I held back tears while I completed whatever task he asked of me. Looking back, I assume it was to make sure I was okay enough to leave his presence.

After making a beeline for my office so I could cry in peace, I got to work. I started a load of dishes, cleaned the cat pans, put up laundry, and mopped. It didn’t matter what I did, I still felt a heaviness in my heart. I was in the kitchen making sure we had all the ingredients for pork chops when he left his office. He didn’t once look at me as he got his own drink from the fridge. A task normally left to me. Uh-oh.

Tentatively, I followed him back to his office. I stood outside his door, listening quietly as I shored my resolve. Knocking twice with one knuckle, I opened the door and smiled as widely as I could.

“What are you feeling for lunch today? We have a few options.” I showed him the recipes. As we discussed, I noticed his clipped tone. His dismissive attitude. He chose the pot pie.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my hand on the door knob ready to leave.


“What’s wrong?”


“Did I do something wrong?”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms and frowned, “Why are you so lazy?”

My heart dropped and my eyes filled with tears.

“Why couldn’t you have taken the 3 seconds to be exceptional and washed the spoon?” He continued.

“I’m sorry.” I choked out. “I’m sorry. I just- I didn’t think of that.” I broke down in a sob.

“Come here.” He held out his hand.

I shook my head and took a step back, fearing his wrath. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll remember next time.”

“Come. Here.” He repeated.

Stepping forward, hot tears left streaks on my cheeks. I took his outstretched hand.

He removed my glasses, a move usually reserved before blows to the head, and I shuddered. But he didn’t strike me. He pulled me into a hug. I sobbed against his shoulder, repeating his words in my head. Lazy. Good for nothing. Disappointment. I needed to run. I needed to get away. I ne-

“I need to go,” Came out unbidden through wet gasps of breath, “I need to go, I need to go!”

My default response mode. Flight.

“You’re not going anywhere. I’m fucking with you.” He admitted with a smile.

“Not real?” I asked, disbelieving.

He invoked our safe word to show the seriousness of his words, “I’m just fucking with you. I’m being cruel.”

Despite his words, I began sobbing in earnest. Master had known how deeply his words would cut me.

How to Start BDSM or M/s Relationships or Contracts

Most people do BDSM for psychologically healthy reasons. It is with those people in mind that this is being written. Very early on in dating, they are transparent about needs, are willing to be vulnerable, set aside ego, and maintain those throughout the relationship to the best of their ability.

Healthy dynamics have:

  • Commitment to communication
  • High level of trust
  • Focus on partner’s happiness
  • Co-construction of a reality that satisfies needs of both partners
  • Compatibility doesn’t mean identical kinks
  • Use of deeper protocols when issues arise

What level of commitment are you and they willing to make towards communication? Complete transparency?

Do you leave yourself vulnerable to trusting me with your body and soul, boy? Do you leave yourself vulnerable to trusting me with letting you hold it, Ma’am?

Compatibility doesn’t mean identical kinks. One does not need to meet every inexhaustible fantasy reservoir our minds think up to be compatible in bed or in mind. It’s about how you make the ones you do match matter. Or, sometimes in M/s case, it doesn’t matter if only the Master wants it. It will happen.

How to Keep Your slave Happy

Masters and Mistresses, how do You keep Your slaves happy?

How do You keep Your slaves from leaving You? How do You keep them following You? Why should You be their Leader?

My Master knows exactly why i wouldn’t leave. Have you told your Masters why you wouldn’t leave, lately? It’s follow or leave. Where is the line for you? At any point you can leave, but that’s it. It’d be over forever. This special little moment in time when you were Theirs.

Is the line yelling? Is it clipping off body parts? Is it shoving you in a closet for hours when you have childhood trauma from that?

All break-ups happen because of communication or unreasonable expectations. The same is true of M/s. If my Master has the expectation that i would let Him put a file into my nail bed, He’s got another thing coming. There are a lot of tortures I would follow Him to, but He knows where the line is.

Do you know your line?

Challenging Your Negative Thoughts

The other night I was going about my usual routine and stopped to lay down for a few minutes. I had been going going going all day long and just needed a breather. But after a few seconds, my brain went into overdrive. My Master had walked by and seen me laying down.

I felt guilty. Unproductive. Lazy. I thought, “He must think I’m a POS.”

Normally, I would just get up and begin working on whatever again. This time, since starting therapy and actively checking the processes my brain has, I decided to ask. I challenged this idea that I am a lazy person by simply asking what he thought of me.

News flash: He said he thought I was very productive. Never once did it cross his mind that by taking a break I am unproductive or should hate myself. So, I just challenge all of you to do the same. Pay attention to the narrative your brain spins about you and ask questions.

8 Interesting Facts of the Science Behind BDSM

  1. 47% of women have fantasies of dominating someone sexually.
  2. Masochism gives us a temporary relief from all the burdens of self-hood (Krafft-Ebing 1965).
  3. Consensual Master/slave relationships go back from now to ancient times.
  4. 68.8% of people (or rounded up to a nice 69) have “kinky sexual fantasies.”
  5. The most successful relationships very early on in dating are transparent about their needs.
  6. In most BDSM relationships, compared to vanilla relationships, the perceived compatibility of a couple was close to actual compatibility.
  7. When asked if they had done at least one BDSM activity, 48.8% responded yes. However, when asked if they had fantasized that number goes up by 22%.
  8. Those outside of the gender binary and those who are switches are critically under-researched.

(From a class by Brad Sagarin, the head of the Science of BDSM Research Team.)