Uxorious 1

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…?

My Roller-coaster Year with the Mistress 2

To recap, my year with the Mistress ended recently so I’m reviewing our time together. We spent many evenings together over the first half of our relationship.

That next weekend after Easter, we went to the Astros’ game (also high out of our minds) with my Master and my husband as well. I remember how strange it was to not be following behind her and instead following my Master. I was much more used to following her through a crowd, at any rate.

The weekend after that was finally the trip she invited me on. The one I would have been stupid to refuse as far gone as I was on her. I met her two friends. I made a good impression as far as she was concerned. We got high and did puzzles and a hike. We went on a brewery crawl.

On our way home at the airport, the airport in Charlotte on a Sunday is not my happy place, I missed my flight. I spent two hours just trying to get past security. I was so anxious I straight up disassociated. She found me on the other side, gripped my wrists and promised me, “This will never happen again. I will take care of everything.”

And she did, she walked me to the help desk, talked to them about what happened (it was no big deal because literally there was a line of people before and after me with the same experience), and took me to my gate. She protected me from myself and from external forces.

We both considered this our anniversary weekend. The first weekend where we were truly, well and good alone. Where I performed services for her in anticipation of her needs. (Like pre-slicing the bagel I knew she would eat based on the morning previously.)

I started following her around like a lost puppy after that. A love-sick puppy. We either had sleepovers or I’d be over at her place up to two to four times a week. Except her trip to Pittsburg where we only shared a phone call. I loved talking with her on the phone. It was one of the few opportunities she gave me to talk.

We went to concerts and musicals and breweries and even spent a weekend in Colorado. Again, high out of our minds on weed and love. I had such an amazing time.

It was just two weeks after that, the highest of the high, that we had The Fight. Two weeks later, we celebrated her birthday and that’s where it all went downhill for our M/s side…

Displeasing the Master

Displeasing one’s Master is hardly the intentional act, right? Maybe most of the time, anyway. We’ll excuse when I’m ‘spicy’ as a break in mental faculties. I can spend my whole life avoiding my Master’s wrath but it’s going to happen. When it does, what do you do?

Grovel?

Beg?

Plead?

Or stand your ground?

For me, planting my feet and defending myself came naturally. Defending myself from injustice mattered the most. Running away took precedence. Not being a servant was the default for me.

The three distinct personality traits my submission takes: the slave, the little, and the puppy. And all along, the puppy knew. The slave saw one Master and one Mistress, but the puppy?

“The puppy has one Master.” I said it on the trip to Corpus Christi, one week before The Fight. “Mistress can only have the slave.”

33 Questions to Ask Potential Partners

  1. Do you have an end date in mind for this?
  2. What are you looking for from this?
  3. What kinky dynamic, if any, are you wanting from this?
  4. What time commitments are you wanting?
  5. How flexible are you?
  6. What context does our time take? (Dates, playdates, hanging out, events, other)
  7. How do you feel about communication with other partners during our time together?
  8. Are there times you won’t want contact? How will you communicate this need?
  9. How can I support you through hard times?
  10. What are your feelings on physical affection?
  11. What terms of endearment do you like?
  12. How often do you need sex from this?
  13. Who pays for dates?
  14. Is there a limit on how much that can be spent on gifts, and how often?
  15. What makes you feel jealous?
  16. How do you express anger or annoyance? What do you think is the best way for us to work through that?
  17. How should we address jealousy if it comes up?
  18. Who do we tell about our relationship? Facebook/Fetlife official? 
  19. What titles do we have? (Boyfriend, partner, lover, etc.)
  20. How do you feel about meeting families?
  21. What do we share about our other partners?
  22. How involved do we want to be with our metamours?
  23. STI testing? Contraception?
  24. What are your deal breakers?
  25. What are some of your relationship boundaries?
  26. Do you have a love language?
  27. Do you have an apology language?
  28. How do we celebrate holidays/birthdays/anniversaries/etc?
  29. Are there things (activities, places, etc.) that are just for some but not all partners?
  30. Do you have any triggers that should be avoided?
  31. How will we know if the relationship isn’t working?
  32. What’s your poly style?
  33. How involved do you want us to be involved in each other’s kids lives, if any?

My Roller-coaster Year with the Mistress 1

My year with the Mistress was a wild one. In our relationship, the highs were high and the lows were low. Let’s consider the first part of our relationship the ‘getting to know you’ phase. That takes us back to last December 18, 2021.

We met at Chris’ Yulemas party, which is a kind of Friendsgiving for Christmas. I was bent over the kitchen counter being beaten with a honing rod as a pervertible for texting my Master “fuck you” (which was well warranted at the time because he was not my Master yet.) And apparently got yelled at for making the Mistress sit in the one chair that didn’t match the set. It was a glorious night until later, but that’s a different story.

After that night, we didn’t really pick up again until February. I suppose her seasonal depression was over and mania was back on the menu. We began meeting at Moontower Inn, which is a brewery and bar. They serve the most delicious and devilish items. On Mondays, they have a $5 mug night where you buy their mug and bring it back-

Anyway, my husband enjoys this deal and we began Moontower Mondays. After finding out that she was going to South Plains Leatherfest (a.k.a. SPLF, a weekend of learning about leather history and culture, Master/slave relationships, and not without some debauchery), I bought a ticket on the spot. I asked my then-boyfriend Cletus if I could room with him and his roommate Bun and their boyfriend.

That weekend was riotous, but again, another story another time. We’re just giving an overview. We spent the weekend together and she then invites me on a penis-less retreat in Asheville with her and two friends. Of course, I accept. I’m madly in love with her at this point.

The weeks after SPLF, the Mistress, I, my husband, and my Master went to brewery after brewery after brewery. Until my mental breakdown in April.

Then, on Easter Sunday we went to Bunnies on the Bayou. High out of our fucking minds. I got a girl’s number. We danced. We drank. We talked. It was hot and sweaty and lovely. I swear when she smiled the whole world smiled with her.

Fly on the Wall 2

“So, now I’ll start from the beginning.” She circled back. “I don’t think we’ve had this conversation before…” Mistress paused stirring to look at me, “Just like the earth has a molten core, I am literally built around a core of anger. I am angry all the time.”

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t make pretty mountains, trees, beaches.” Her tone changed to light to terrifying in an instant, “But I am a volcano waiting to happen at any moment. I love how anger feels. Absolutely love it. But I hate what it does to other people. I am a natural disaster of anger. If you felt overwhelmed by what I gave you on Thursday?”

She paused again to look at me, away from her cooking, “You have NO idea the capacity I have. I am a volcano ready to erupt at any moment. All I have is anger.”

I shifted on my feet, trying to remain impossibly invisible.  

“You see it when I hate the patriarchy. You see it when I estrange myself from my mother and sister. You see it when I take a decade to talk to my ex even though I still love him.” Her voice broke.

Then I broke. Tears came unbidden.

“I wasn’t angry at you until Thursday and now I don’t know what to do, Ashtyn. Because we are incompatible- if you cannot handle my anger? It would be like telling Chris he can’t beat you. If you can’t get yelled at? If it ‘hurts your feelings’ and you have to walk out on me? And I have to worry whether or not you self-harm? It’s about you! So that you don’t self-harm! Not about me making sure the volcano has a chance to erupt so that it has a chance to be over.”

My eyes closed as I tried to compose myself.

“You literally tried to put a cork in a volcano, Ashtyn,” She shook her head in disgust, “and I’m pissed about that. Because you didn’t want a volcano.”

“But that’s what I am.” She said with finality.

Mistress let an ominous silence settle over the kitchen. She transferred the chicken to the pot and stirred. Then she gave a quick sigh, “Before we spend too much time, I know am not going to change. Because I don’t have to change.”

“We’ve gone this far without a fight. But we will always fight when you make a bad decision.” She began with gusto, “When you make a decision that’s different than the decision I would make.” Her hand slammed on the counter, “What did I tell you we were doing here? I am training you to be me! I am training you to make the same decision I would make in the same situation. The same set of resources. You did not do that this week.”

“It could have just been a lesson. And we could have had some punishment and it would have been over, but Ashtyn you walked out on me.” She whispers the last part with such an expression on her face. It conveyed everything and nothing. That she was furious and right and disappointed and at the same time, it meant not a thing. I knew we were over. I was already cutting the threads of our relationship.

“Apparently you walked out on Chris, too. Because he hadn’t known where you had gone. What makes you think you get to walk out? Why did you walk out? I mean. Why?”

That was a separate matter, I thought. “I just needed to get away.” I had needed to get in my car and hit my head and wrench my hair and scream and cry. I needed a bloody autistic meltdown that I couldn’t get with her yelling at me in her car. Of course I left. No one wants to see me like that.

“Well, you might get more than you bargained for there. How ‘away’ do you really want to be, Ashtyn? I don’t chase after people.” But she had. She called me that day. When I was 2 blocks away pulled over and red in the face from screaming and crying. She told me to make my way to the flower arranging class one of two ways. The two choices she gave me were to get back in her car or go in mine. As I was already in my car and looked like a fucking mess, I made the decision to go on my own and calm down.

“You want to leave?” She asked, then pointed to the door, “Fucking go.”

Fly on the Wall 1

“So, what did Chris tell you? No, scratch that. What Aldi did you go to this morning. Is that the one I told you to go to?”

“No Mistress.” I murmured. I had known it would be unacceptable. Still, I had done it my way.

“So, why didn’t you do as I told you because I was trying to make it convenient for you. I’m sure in your head you were trying to get done as fast as possible. But Ashtyn, it’s like you’ve forgotten everything I’ve ever taught you. What have I said? It matters how you get the job done. I told you how I wanted the job done.” She sighed.

“You did it your way.” She said simply. There was no denying that. I was angry at her and wanted her to know, so I did it how I wanted to do it. She was always seeing the best in me and not just seeing the messages I was sending through protocol. Like she had wanted.

Mistress went back to stirring the pan in the kitchen. Then, as if she couldn’t care a whim what my answer was said, “So, what did Chris tell you?”

“He said that you and him are not the same and to remember that. But that he didn’t want to say more and betray your confidence.” I said, voice a thin reed.

“Okay. He asked if he could talk to you and I said he could if he felt like talking to you would better y’alls relationship or dynamic. Um…” She paused, “I think I’m going to start at the end and go back.”

“I’m not sure that this is even about school. Because what I’m pissed off about now is the fact that you walked away from me. And that’s all I see. And the fact that you walked away from me before I was even done with my anger. And so now I’ve had no place to put this anger. What pisses me off is this has become about you and your needs. It has nothing to do with me about my anger and what I need to do to get through that.” She hisses across the room.

“It’s become about ‘not hurting your feelings.’” She continued in a mocking tone, “It’s become about making sure that you don’t get so upset and overwhelmed that you walk away. It’s about making sure I don’t yell at you.”

“It’s about… you.” She hurtled at me with dramatic pause. “And that is not in alignment with me.”

“You basically called red on Thursday and I had thought you had given me authority. I thought you had consented to not being able to flag red and that’s exactly what you did. And now it’s about me properly grounding you when I’m upset. Making sure that you had what you need. You needed some time away. You needed some time away.”

Her voice trailed off as Alexa rang in the background for some timer set. Later, she would tell me that she was cooking to calm herself so that she wouldn’t come unglued.

“Well, I needed to finish yelling at you.”

Welcome to my Life; Uncoupling and Cookie Cake

The sad, sorry truth of the matter is… I just got broken up with. That’s the thing about polyamory, you have a lot more of everything- including break-ups. So, how do I deal with it? Cookie cake.

A cookie cake from Great American Cookie that reads: “Congratulations on your uncoupling!”