Polyamory In Practice
"I enjoy your stories."
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"If you bring forth the darkest part of yourself to listen, I'll tell it to you."
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He hesitated for a moment, and then, with his startlingly beautiful blue eyes locked on my own, he nodded..
Wednesday, September 9th, 2015
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Wednesday evening at Karoke with Hibiscus I found myself feeling so liberated and uninhibited that I sang Lady Gaga's "Love Game" while dressed in tight gray leggings and low-cut sapphire shirt. I found myself even bucking my hips on stage as I performed it.
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My favorite part of it is the opening, which is part of the chorus of the song as well: "Let's have some fun, this beat is sick. I wanna take a ride on your disco stick." I felt alive. I could relate to the song even though it is clearly a bit of a parody of human relationships.
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Sometimes it is nice to think less, and feel more: "Don't think too much just bust that kick, I wanna take a ride on your disco stick." But I think the song is really making fun of how little thought and care people put into who they sleep with at times.
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Gliding my hips up and down I found myself feeling incredibly alive. "I'm on a mission," I sang, feeling that it was true. "And it involves some heavy touching. You've indicated your interest, I'm educated in sex, yes. And now I want it bad, want it bad -
A love game, a love game."
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When riding back in Hibiscus's car I found myself breaking back into song many times, including singing this part of that same song, "I can see you staring there from across the block, With a smile on your mouth and your hand on your huh!"
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After we got back I made us both salad and we sat down at his dining room table to enjoy spring mix greens with balsamic vinegar, tomatillos, raw fetta cheese, dried olives and shredded laver.
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We got to talking about sexual things, which had become my favorite topic since Monday night when I admitted to my fantasy about being his whore and he spent hours touching me everywhere, slowly, sensually, and then more dangerously.
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Tuesday (the previous night) had felt almost like losing my virginity again. It'd been months since Paladin and I had had sex, and I'd felt only a week ago that perhaps I never needed to have sex again in my life. Something about me had been purified, and I was entering sexuality again as a new person.
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"It was such a revelation to me to realize that my inner rapist is a male part of myself, and that he actually is a part of myself," I said to Hibiscus after finishing my salad. "If I were to name him, he would be Mordred. I felt so attracted to that name from Mists of Avalon because it was the only name that ever sounded inherently dark enough for him to me."
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"I find it interesting that you have several separate parts of self for your sexuality alone."
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"Yes. Kasandra, Cheanna and Mordred - whose female equivalent is Claudia. I've been having these names come to me and they fit for perfectly. I want to do a painting with each part of myself in it."
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"Wow. That would be beautiful."
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"Cheanna would look seductive, but also playful. Kasandra would be like an elegant geisha. And Claudia and Mordred would stand together - Claudia alluring and dark, and Mordred dangerous and threatening."
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"I feel tempted to try to bring Mordred out of you . . . but I don't really want to have sex with a man."
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I laughed, then closed my mouth suddenly as an image of Hibiscus with a male version of myself crossed my mind. The image was weird to me, not arousing. I cocked my eyebrow, my mouth curving to one side as I looked at him.
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Hibiscus laughed. "Claudia then."
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"They're mostly the same, but there are differences. For Claudia it's about seduction. As a woman she can't take by force, so she has to coerce. Mordred, on the other hand, is very violent. But for both of them it is not about hurting someone physically - its about the psychological torture. It's about creating trauma in another person and witnessing it, drinking it in." My voice dropped as I spoke, becoming lower and darker. "Feeling the power of having another person at your mercy, watching the pain and horror in their eyes."
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Hibiscus looked into my dangerous stare and he smiled back at me, a reflection of my own look beginning to form on his face. I liked how hungry it looked. It made me shiver inside.
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"Do you want me to tell you a story?" I asked.
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"I enjoy your stories," Hibiscus said.
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"If you bring forth the darkest part of yourself to listen, I'll tell it to you."
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He hesitated for a moment, and then, with his startlingly beautiful blue eyes locked on my own, he nodded.
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"Imagine a young girl of twelve or thirteen who you happen to become acquainted with," I said, imagining a thin girl about five feet tall with long black hair, pert breasts and a seductive set of hips. "You've built up trust with her through friendship with her parents, and then directly with her personally. She cares for you. One day, when you're alone with her, you find yourself incredibly aroused by her figure in her fashionable, tight clothes."
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As I spoke I moved closer to Hibiscus, and whispered the story into his ear, "Imagine her surprise when you grab her by the shoulders and force her into a wall and begin to grind your hips against her. She screams, suddenly afraid. You rip her shirt off and she looks at you, her feeling of betrayal written in the pain of her eyes and the sound of her voice. You bite her breast, holding her wrists to the side. She writhes, trying to get away. She's helpless and so afraid."
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I shudder as I speak, becoming more and more aroused in my own story telling. Hibiscus noticeably begins to breathe harder.
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"You rip off her pants and throw her against the bed, bending her over. She wriggles out of her grasp but only makes it a step away before you grab her and pin her to the bed. You whisper to her, dangerously, If you struggle, I will make this very painful for you. She stills her movements, trembling beneath you. You spread her legs and push into her tight, virgin slit. She screams, tears streaming down her face. As you watch her face she goes from anger, desperation, fear and betrayal to feeling despair." I lick my lips. Mordred's favorite part is watching the trauma written on her face.
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"And as you fuck her you watch her despair transform into desolation, and resignation. The innocence drains from her and her life-force is consumed. You've taken something so precious, and your mark will forever be written into her every move in life. Seeing those resigned eyes you feel a rising pleasure in your body and you cum in her."
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Mordred feels satisfied in his story telling.
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"What happens next?"
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"She's used up. It's time to find someone new."
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"But wouldn't it be beautiful to build up trust with her again . . . so that you could betray her again."
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My body lit up at Hibiscus's words, shudders of pleasure going down my spine. He had just officially befriended Mordred. I smiled an evil grin and felt deviously alive.
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Understanding Mordred and his victim - which I didn't have a name for, as she seemed more like a personality trait than a full personality - as two parts of myself that were forever playing out an act together gave me a new insight on another Lady Gaga song, which we had listened to in his car on the way home less than an hour before getting frisky in his dining room.
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From 'Bad Romance': "I want your ugly. I want your disease. . . . I want your drama, the touch of your hand. I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand. . . . I want your love and I want your revenge, you and me could write a bad romance. I want your love and all your lover's revenge, you and me could write a bad romance."
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I remarked to Hibiscus, "And we are writing a bad romance. That's what my erotica novel is!" I exclaimed.
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As the song continued to play he remarked, "It makes a lot more sense than I've ever been able to make of it."
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"I want your horror, I want your design, 'cause you're a criminal as long as you're mine," the song says. It was perfect. As long as Mordred 'belonged' to that other part of me there was nothing he could do but rape her. She craved the destruction of herself as much as he reveled in breaking her.
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I sung these lines to Hibiscus several times, trying to give him a hint: "I want your psycho, your vertigo shtick, want you in my rear window, baby you're sick."
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That night Hibiscus didn't take the hint and bent me over his bed and fucked me for the third time. I was already quite sore and it hurt as he entered me. Inside, Mordred cheered, and I felt his pleasure. Outside I felt intense pain, but as Mordred became more excited, my whole body began to tingle. I came less than a minute before Hibiscus did.
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Hibiscus expressed remorse for hurting me. I was still too closely identified with Mordred to feel any sympathy for myself.
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Thursday, September 10th, 2015
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In the morning I made it clear that I was too sore for more vaginal sex. I told him that anal sex was definitely on the table, but that I wasn't sure how to give it. He'd just have to take it. And he did.
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I didn't orgasm from it, but I loved the humiliating feeling of it.
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A few hours later I was carefully applying Thayer's Organic Witchhazel Rose-Petal Aloe Formula to my raw nether regions. It felt soothing and immediately eased the itching that had begun. As I moved my lips around I noticed the feel of the tender skin and a feeling came over me. I wasn't sure what it was at first - a sort of tugging in my heart, a sort of lightness in my head.
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Mordred was present in me, and yet he seemed so soft. Vulnerable without being angry, as he'd never been before. I'm sorry, he said.
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Inside me someone blinked in disbelief.
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I really am sorry, he said.
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A warm tingling spread from my heart and flooded my body. For the very first time in my life, Mordred had grown. He was no longer an isolated part of me that never changed. Integration had begun.
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Thursday afternoon, a few hours after Mordred's apology, Hibiscus took me grocery shopping one last time. I knew I didn't absolutely need more food, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to collect a bunch of the really delicious treats available at the local co-op - Harmless Harvest raw coconut water, GT's Gingerberry and Passionberry Bliss Kombucha, sheep's yogurt from a local farm, raw goat-milk cheddar, shredded laver, and dried persimmons.
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I was rather delighted with each of these treats, but the true delight came in feeling deeply safe and protected by Hibiscus. Packing up the grocery bags as we checked out I felt loved. I hadn't heard on previous trips how much he had spent on me, but this time it was something over $150. I was slightly startled - not because the cost was unexpected - but because I felt those numbers on the inside, like so many kisses, hugs, and words of affection.
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Why, oh, why, has culture demonized money as a love language when it feels just as sweet as the others? I wondered.
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As we headed out to the car I said, "There is something I've been wanting to ask you about, and I finally feel ready to ask."
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We unloaded the bags into his trunk. We walked back to return the cart together. "I'm all ears," he said.
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"I've been wondering how you think of our relationship."
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He grinned. "I have not actually had time to think about it."
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"I know, you've been . . . distracted," I said with a sly smile.
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We got into his car. He sat in the driver's seat thinking for a moment before starting up the engine. The hybrid hardly made a sound as it came on.
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"The labels people often use are so vague. . ." He laughed. "This idea that comes to me feels edgy. It's a term I've actually heard you use - you refer to your exes by 'first love,' 'second love,' and so on. What about calling you 'my love'?"
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A silly, big grin spread across my face. I felt ridiculously happy - something I'd been feeling a lot lately in response to Hibiscus, like when he'd told me in the shower yesterday that he wasn't into oral sex.
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"Can you see yourself introducing me that way - "Nuria, my love."?" I asked.
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"Yes, I can actually. The thought pleases me a lot." Then Hibiscus began to laugh.
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I smiled, enjoying his amusement. I asked him what was so funny with my eyes.
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"It would be fun to go next door and introduce you that way to Otter and Polecat."
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I began to laugh too. Otter and Polecat had been with us at karaoke last night. They already knew, but it would be fun to announce it in that way. If it hadn't already been ten o'clock at night after we got the groceries unloaded and ate, we might have done so.
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That night Hibiscus and I laid in bed together, knowing it was our last evening together for quite some time. He was bound for a trip Friday evening, and Paladin was to arrive around midnight, and I was leaving back home to Snowland on Monday morning. It was all about to come to a halt.
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I found myself drowning in sadness, anxiety and fear.
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"I like how things are. I don't want them to change. I'm afraid of seeing Paladin again. I'm afraid of him being sad and not being able to make him happier. I don't know how to hold space for his utter despair, which is apparently how he has been feeling recently. He's so afraid of my rejection. Which is ironic, because I find myself so afraid of your rejection."
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"Mirrors, mirrors, everywhere," Hibiscus said.
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"Yes. Like Teal says, we're in a mirror-hologram."
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"What if you added a comma, and said, "We're in a mirror, Hologram."? Using 'Hologram' as an address for another person."
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"Huhm," I said as I thought about it. "Yeah. That's good. That's really good. That may actually be even more accurate."
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When Paladin arrived twenty minutes past midnight I crawled out of Hibiscus's bed. Hibiscus was saying something about wanting to honor Paladin and the acceptance and love he'd shown me, and wanting to be sure that Paladin felt okay in general with everything. I smiled, but instead of replying simply hurried down the stairs and opened the door.
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Paladin was standing there looking very exhausted and yet incredibly beautiful. My eyes drank in the sight of him as I helped him carry his few things in. His cheekbones seemed higher than I remembered them, and his nose seemed longer. The color of his eyes was odd to me, after spending so much time staring into Hibiscus's bright blue eyes.
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We hugged for a bit and then I backed up several paces. "What is it?" Paladin asked, eyes wide with fear.
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"I want to look at you!" I exclaimed. "I can't see you properly when I'm so close."
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I stared, delighted with his long, wavy beard, his beautiful, long blond hair, his full lips. I dropped to the floor at his feet in a worshiping posture, feeling so awed by his beauty.
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I stood up ten seconds later whispering, "You're so, so beautiful."
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I didn't feel like I could connect with him in any other way. I felt so distant and confused. I was excited to see my charming prince, my knight, my holy warrior, my love. And yet, and yet, why did I feel so far away? I touched him, but felt worried and confused. I focused on my awe of his appearance.
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Friday, September 11th, 2015
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Friday morning I realized what the block that I perceived between Paladin and I was.
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"I feel infidelitous to you," I said. We were on the bed in my guest room. "Not because of anything sexual I did, but because I've been reforming my dreams and ideas about how I'm going to spend my life, and I've been doing that without you."
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"So bring me up to speed. Get me onto your page."
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"I don't want to just drag you onto my page," I said. "I want you to feel fulfilled in your own life and for you to have your own visions. I don't want you to just submit to mine if they aren't also good for you."
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"Okay. Let's just start by catching me up. Tell me your new ideas."
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"I want to spend a lot of time here. Hibiscus has agreed that one of these extra bedrooms will become my room. I'm not yet sure how much time..."
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"How many visits a year?" Paladin asks.
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"I'm not sure how it'll play out over years. But for this year I'm imagining two weeks in October and two weeks in November. Then he might visit us in Snowland for Thanksgiving. December I imagine spending Snowland exclusively because I have a lot of stuff I want to deal with - physical stuff, deciding what to bring with us when we travel or move - and spend Christmas with my family. Then in January we'll go south as we've planned. I see us as having three options with that."
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I took a sip of water. "When we go south we can spend a week here at Hibiscus's place. That would be a good opportunity to gage how well my body can tolerate the woodsmoke from wood-heating here. Then, the first option for the winter is that we can just travel all winter, visiting your parents, your aunt and uncle, and that friend of Basket Bear's who lives south of your parents and other friends we have down there. It'd be hard to do it for a full four months though."
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"Yeah," Paladin agreed.
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"The second option is that after visiting Hibiscus and your parents we just go directly for an apartment in late January or early February. Then we can come back north in May. And the third option is that we do more of a mix of the two, traveling for January and February and getting an apartment for March and April. I realize that would be renting month-to-month, but I think it'd be worth it to spend the time south and to be alone together."
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"It would also be hard for me to find local work for just two months, which was part of the plan when getting an apartment before."
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"Yeah. I've thought about that too. I'm not sure what to do about that."
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"I think I simply need to find some steady online work that I can do," Paladin said.
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I nodded in agreement.
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"So how much of the summer would you want to spend here?" Paladin asked.
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"I'm not sure. A lot of it. Maybe almost all of it. I'll want to visit my friends and parents in Snowland though."
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"I would miss you."
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"You could visit me here," I said. It was four hours between Snowland and Hibiscus's place, but that wasn't so bad a distance to travel if one was going to spend a week or more somewhere.
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We let the topic wander around, and I found myself recounting my escapades with Hibiscus to Paladin.
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"I told him he'd have to take me in my ass, and he did. It was so good," I said.
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"I'm glad," Paladin said, meaning it. Then he added, "I notice I'm actually feeling aroused by this."
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I was surprised, since this was not normally a reaction that Paladin had to me recounting any sexual escapades with anyone else.
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"Why is that? That is, what specifically?" I asked.
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"I'm not sure," he said. "It's been coming and going as you speak." He paused to think about it. "I think that is coming from feeling free. I don't have to worry about your needs being met sexually. That makes me free to only worry about getting what I want. It makes me want to just grab your head and..."
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I smiled, growing aroused before he even grabbed my hair and pulled me down. Paladin noticed how much this turned me on and hurried to take off his pants. He pushed me down in front of him again. I began to suck his cock. I reveled in it - to feel connected to my husband again, to feel owned by him again, to feel elated at my ability to pleasure him.
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I repositioned myself so that I was kneeling on the floor before him. Beside me was a mirror.
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"There is a mirror beside me," I pointed out.
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"Oh," Paladin said, his voice low and full of his arousal. "That is . . . really . . . nice."
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When he came in my mouth I felt excited and didn't have to struggle to smile. I couldn't recall if that had ever happened before - to be so happy and fulfilled that the flavor and texture didn't disgust me at all.
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Friday afternoon the three of us watched "Taro: The Dragon Boy" together. It was my favorite childhood movie. It was on VHS tape so I had not been able to watch it with Paladin since I'd met him because we didn't have a VCR. Hibiscus did, so Paladin had brought the tape with him for us to watch together.
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I enjoyed being able to sprawl out in one of my home-made shirts and no pants or panties between them on Hibiscus's bed. I felt loved and complete.
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After the movie we talked for a while. Paladin asked me questions about Hibiscus. Hibiscus asked me questions about Paladin, such as, "Where does 'Paladin' [the name] come from?"
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I answered their questions in turn, and added, "Paladin was telling me how freeing it is for him to be out from under the obligation to try to please me sexually in ways he doesn't want to," I said. Paladin looked a little embarrassed, but I could tell he wasn't upset that I'd shared that. He joked, to cover his discomfort, "We can talk about this, but I feel it important that we have this discussion through Nuria."
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Hibiscus laughed and said, "Tell Paladin that I said, Clearly." Paladin laughed. I grinned. How priceless to watch to men you love talk with one another.
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A short while later Hibiscus said, "I'm going to be vulnerable and say that I'm really happy that Nuria has someone who lives up to her standards of beauty."
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I was really happy he said that. It somehow made it okay, really okay, that I had been so transparent about my disappointment with Hibiscus's appearance. I liked his white-gray-silver-beige hair and blue eyes, but the rest was freckled and soft. The wrinkles around his eyes spoke of dehydration, stress and pushing himself too often.
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I held out hope that perhaps Hibiscus might decide to really put some effort into his health. If my dad could turn around so much in just a year in his mid-fifties, I didn't see any reason why Hibiscus couldn't do the same in his mid-forties.
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As much as I appreciated his remark, I felt unsure of what to say. Paladin looked simultaneously happy, embarrassed and lost. I squeezed Hibiscus's hand and stroked Paladin's knees with my feet.
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At some point in the conversation Hibiscus said, "I'm going to pretend to be Nuria and ask you, how does that make you feel?" Hibiscus was asking about something Paladin had said about our new relationship.
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Paladin dropped a bit of his pretense and his face showed more vulnerability. His eyes searched inside for the answers. "Nervous, afraid. I know the complications, the frustrations this will lead to."
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When I asked Paladin more about it when it was just he and I in the room he said, "I'm glad you have somewhere else to go if you decide to leave me. I guess I have always felt insecure in our relationship, and this doesn't make me any less secure. In fact, it helps."
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"Ah," I said. "That makes sense, because this means that I don't have to leave you to get my needs met."
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"Exactly."
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When I relayed some of this to Hibiscus a look of wonder and delight crossed his face. "It's such a novel idea - that sharing partners can mean that everyone gets more love, that everyone can get their needs met better."
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I smiled and hugged him. "I feel so blessed."
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"Me too."