Proud Maisie
Direct from the desk of the kinky courtesan...
Thursday, 2 December 2010
Wednesday, 6 October 2010
I have adenovirus in my eyes...
Whilst I am no where near as bad as the poor lady above, this is where the virus can take you. I caught it from Alistair, as I nursed him through three weeks of hell, and three trips to the hospital. It really, really hurts. I can't see very well, and I don't look very nice. I can't work, and I can't really go out and see people, as I am contagious. Oh so contagious.
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
Question
And does it fall to you to rescue me? Will you put your hands around my little waist, encased in metal bones? Will you kiss my lips and breathe in every secret that I long to speak, but can't? Oh, I could tell you all the thoughts that visit me at night, but do you think that I would rest under your boot so easily?
Tuesday, 14 September 2010
Dacryphilia
It is a very difficult thing indeed to want to cry, to be made to cry, but to resent each single tear that is shed. To feel the most protected corners of your mind, the ones which you guard so jealously, laid bare. Like a bird with broken wing, helpless in the palm of your lover, it is these moments where the tears come most freely, tracing their inky black lines of mascara.
Does your lover ever ask you why you cry? Does he whisper softly in your ear, force your lips to shape the words? Does he realise that every time he makes you weep, you lose a part of yourself to him? Perhaps he is a collector, perhaps one day he will make you whole.
It is a very difficult thing indeed to want to cry, to be made to cry.
Does your lover ever ask you why you cry? Does he whisper softly in your ear, force your lips to shape the words? Does he realise that every time he makes you weep, you lose a part of yourself to him? Perhaps he is a collector, perhaps one day he will make you whole.
It is a very difficult thing indeed to want to cry, to be made to cry.
*Should probably qualify this as being unrelated to Alistair. It's a kinky thang.
Monday, 13 September 2010
My Friend, The Knight.
I can count my real friends on one hand, and perhaps not even make it to five. Oh, I have plenty of acquaintances, but real you-can-call-me-at-4am-because-you're-distraught friends, it's a one-hand job.
And this post is dedicated to The Knight. Apart from some of his values regarding masculinity and femininity, (if you're reading this, Knight, you know what I mean), apart from those, he is what every man should aspire to be, and frankly women too. He is honourable, loyal, loving. He is there for me no matter what, even when he is going through a bad patch himself. He puts up with the way I sometimes retreat because of my depression, and tells it like it is when I need to hear that too.
You are an awesome man, "The Knight". I am loving you and your wife too.
Thank you for everything you do for me.
And this post is dedicated to The Knight. Apart from some of his values regarding masculinity and femininity, (if you're reading this, Knight, you know what I mean), apart from those, he is what every man should aspire to be, and frankly women too. He is honourable, loyal, loving. He is there for me no matter what, even when he is going through a bad patch himself. He puts up with the way I sometimes retreat because of my depression, and tells it like it is when I need to hear that too.
You are an awesome man, "The Knight". I am loving you and your wife too.
Thank you for everything you do for me.
The Alistair Update
We spoke.
He had a tantrum from down the other end of the phone. I smile now, because sometimes I even find his tantrums endearing. This wasn't one of those times.
My boyfriend is a foot-stomper, literally. (I secretly find it sweet when he does that, which might be one of the keys to our longevity).
He almost always knows what is occuring inside my head. I am as transparent as a pane of glass to him. But I am a creature of extremes, and so it is either that way, or we are speaking foreign languages to each other.
The update from yesterday's post...
He was cross because he believed he was doing the right thing by texting me to ask me. He was filled with rage and frustration because he has never asked for permission from anyone to do anything in his life. (Please don't hold that against him, he is an only child). In his mind, he did something of huge significance.
When I enquired as to what he would have done had I never got the message, this angered him, as he saw it as another example of my mistrust. I was angered because his response to my question was that he might have done as he wished anyway.
After much quarrelling, he admitted that it was a very stupid thing to say, and was probably born out of his anger that I do not trust him. He says that this is the thing he finds most difficult in our relationship.
And I have to admit, he is right. I still find it incredibly hard to trust him. He has lied to me so much in the past. The worst example I have not even documented here because it is too upsetting.
And yet, he has been behaving very well over the past 5 months. He has tried to play by my rules, as he puts it.
Are my rules too severe? I suppose you will have to decide. I have tried to create a compromise whereby a mostly monogamous person can succeed with a polyamorous person. I would just like to be informed about playdates, and told whom they are with. I would at least like to have met the person, and to like them myself.
Alistair is not quite there yet. He is being extremely honest and open. Usually the asking element is missing (not always). But often, I am more told about exploits, or informed they are happening, "ask" doesn't come into it.
And yet he is much better, I cannot deny.
Back to the topic. Alistair felt that I had no right to question what he would have done if I had not been around to give him permission to play in that way with our friend. He says it there is no sense in dealing in maybes and what ifs. He also banged on about me being a philosopher and speaking in abstracts all the time.
But I am a fucking philosopher.
Love me, love my philosophy (even if you don't always agree with it).
But he also said that he loves me to distraction, which is why he was so upset. And more than anything else he said, this made an impact on me. Alistair refuses to say he is in love with me. He tells me he loves me all the time, but that it's all a continuum. He loves me like he loves all his friends and lovers, he just loves me more.
And I think that is bull. Of course he knows what being in love is. The human brain is built with the ability to fall in love. It's all chemical reactions (wonderful ones) and we all know. I put it to him that if love is all the same, "Duhs he love me laahk his mama?"
Still he refuses, after two years to say he is in love with me.
But yesterday he did say he loves me to distraction. And despite the fact we had spent most of the time arguing, my heart melted.
He had a tantrum from down the other end of the phone. I smile now, because sometimes I even find his tantrums endearing. This wasn't one of those times.
My boyfriend is a foot-stomper, literally. (I secretly find it sweet when he does that, which might be one of the keys to our longevity).
He almost always knows what is occuring inside my head. I am as transparent as a pane of glass to him. But I am a creature of extremes, and so it is either that way, or we are speaking foreign languages to each other.
The update from yesterday's post...
He was cross because he believed he was doing the right thing by texting me to ask me. He was filled with rage and frustration because he has never asked for permission from anyone to do anything in his life. (Please don't hold that against him, he is an only child). In his mind, he did something of huge significance.
When I enquired as to what he would have done had I never got the message, this angered him, as he saw it as another example of my mistrust. I was angered because his response to my question was that he might have done as he wished anyway.
After much quarrelling, he admitted that it was a very stupid thing to say, and was probably born out of his anger that I do not trust him. He says that this is the thing he finds most difficult in our relationship.
And I have to admit, he is right. I still find it incredibly hard to trust him. He has lied to me so much in the past. The worst example I have not even documented here because it is too upsetting.
And yet, he has been behaving very well over the past 5 months. He has tried to play by my rules, as he puts it.
Are my rules too severe? I suppose you will have to decide. I have tried to create a compromise whereby a mostly monogamous person can succeed with a polyamorous person. I would just like to be informed about playdates, and told whom they are with. I would at least like to have met the person, and to like them myself.
Alistair is not quite there yet. He is being extremely honest and open. Usually the asking element is missing (not always). But often, I am more told about exploits, or informed they are happening, "ask" doesn't come into it.
And yet he is much better, I cannot deny.
Back to the topic. Alistair felt that I had no right to question what he would have done if I had not been around to give him permission to play in that way with our friend. He says it there is no sense in dealing in maybes and what ifs. He also banged on about me being a philosopher and speaking in abstracts all the time.
But I am a fucking philosopher.
Love me, love my philosophy (even if you don't always agree with it).
But he also said that he loves me to distraction, which is why he was so upset. And more than anything else he said, this made an impact on me. Alistair refuses to say he is in love with me. He tells me he loves me all the time, but that it's all a continuum. He loves me like he loves all his friends and lovers, he just loves me more.
And I think that is bull. Of course he knows what being in love is. The human brain is built with the ability to fall in love. It's all chemical reactions (wonderful ones) and we all know. I put it to him that if love is all the same, "Duhs he love me laahk his mama?"
Still he refuses, after two years to say he is in love with me.
But yesterday he did say he loves me to distraction. And despite the fact we had spent most of the time arguing, my heart melted.
Sunday, 12 September 2010
Complications
It's been a long time since I have spewed my emotional trauma over this blog.
In fact, those who have been with me from the start will notice that it has been a while since one of *those* Alistair posts. You'll remember them, though. The ones where my heart gets nailed to a wall and then spat upon.
The truth is that a lot of good stuff has happened during the past year, and I have always intended on expressing my warm, delicious satisfaction, but as so often happens, I spent my time enjoying the sensations, and enjoying the joy. I didn't have time to tell you about it. And now, I am returning to you with the usual usual.
I am predominantly monogomous. He is polyamorous. He needs to see other people, and I accept that. Things have been difficult in the past, because he has had a bit of a forked tongue. In other words, he has lied to me. Over recent months, his behaviour has been improving, and he has been much better. In fact, I am pretty damn sure there have been no lies.
All I have asked for is this: that he has the decency to tell me, and ask, when he is about to slut it around. Not much to ask.
The other thing relates to a particular form of play that is especially intimate to me. I wanted it to be kept between us alone. I knew this could not work for him. So I suggested that he ask my permission to indulge in it with others, and ideally, I choose whom he does it with, and occasionally pack him off to do so. He wasn't sure. Most forms of committment freak him out. He decided that he would think about it, and then come to speak to me. Until then, he said he would not indulge in it with anyone else.
I am at my mothers because he needed some time apart from me to play with other people.
I had even had a very nice evening, and went to bed happy and at peace.
At 2.31 am, I get a text telling me that his play partner had mentioned that she wanted to do this particular type of play to him, wondering what I thought. It woke me up, which made me irked. In my irked state I called him, he apologised and said he didn't actually think I would have woken up and seen the text. So I asked him, if I had not woken up, what he would have done. Would he have done it with her anyway? He said he didn't know. Possibly.
And in one foul swoop, he crushed me.
I got upset. He got angry. He said he felt he could not do anything right, and that he was trying to make me happy by telling me what was going on. He told me how he was feeling so comfortable with the relationship, and now we had taken a big step back. I cried, and hated myself for doing so.
I just don't understand how asking me if he could do something that is really important to me with someone else, and then potentially intending on doing it anyway, regardless of whether I managed to answer, is designed to make me happy.
In fact, those who have been with me from the start will notice that it has been a while since one of *those* Alistair posts. You'll remember them, though. The ones where my heart gets nailed to a wall and then spat upon.
The truth is that a lot of good stuff has happened during the past year, and I have always intended on expressing my warm, delicious satisfaction, but as so often happens, I spent my time enjoying the sensations, and enjoying the joy. I didn't have time to tell you about it. And now, I am returning to you with the usual usual.
I am predominantly monogomous. He is polyamorous. He needs to see other people, and I accept that. Things have been difficult in the past, because he has had a bit of a forked tongue. In other words, he has lied to me. Over recent months, his behaviour has been improving, and he has been much better. In fact, I am pretty damn sure there have been no lies.
All I have asked for is this: that he has the decency to tell me, and ask, when he is about to slut it around. Not much to ask.
The other thing relates to a particular form of play that is especially intimate to me. I wanted it to be kept between us alone. I knew this could not work for him. So I suggested that he ask my permission to indulge in it with others, and ideally, I choose whom he does it with, and occasionally pack him off to do so. He wasn't sure. Most forms of committment freak him out. He decided that he would think about it, and then come to speak to me. Until then, he said he would not indulge in it with anyone else.
I am at my mothers because he needed some time apart from me to play with other people.
I had even had a very nice evening, and went to bed happy and at peace.
At 2.31 am, I get a text telling me that his play partner had mentioned that she wanted to do this particular type of play to him, wondering what I thought. It woke me up, which made me irked. In my irked state I called him, he apologised and said he didn't actually think I would have woken up and seen the text. So I asked him, if I had not woken up, what he would have done. Would he have done it with her anyway? He said he didn't know. Possibly.
And in one foul swoop, he crushed me.
I got upset. He got angry. He said he felt he could not do anything right, and that he was trying to make me happy by telling me what was going on. He told me how he was feeling so comfortable with the relationship, and now we had taken a big step back. I cried, and hated myself for doing so.
I just don't understand how asking me if he could do something that is really important to me with someone else, and then potentially intending on doing it anyway, regardless of whether I managed to answer, is designed to make me happy.
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