AEL Kinkskills Makes paddles!!!!!!

On June 23^rd T of Tease  taught the “make and customize your own paddle” workshop for AEL Kinkskills. The host house was wonderful, thank you so much G, and the group was so much fun!  We went way overtime but everyone was patient and laughing, and T was an amazing and attentive teacher as always. I had the best time! At first I was sitting on the sidelines, I didn’t know if I had it in me to join, but k convinced me, and I am so glad that she did! I had the best time talking and feeling up my table partner, and thinking about what I was going to imprint on my paddle- also known as my paddle manifesto!

It was so great, and it was a wonderful way to say good bye to this project that I have put blood, sweat, and tears into since its inception in 2009. 

This was the last AEL Kinkskills that I will be organizing. It was a huge success, and gave me everything that I had hoped for. The paddle that I made was in memorial to the event, and hangs proudly on my rack.

I am going through a lot of transition now and ending my part of AEL Kinkskills is a big part of that. It is hard leaving this project but I am very happy about the Master and slave group that will be starting in August. We are also moving soon and so far our housing prospects are so much better than I ever thought possible, and lastly I have put out an application to an online BSN program. The college has accepted me as a student, but I haven’t heard from the nursing program yet, however, this is the beginning of me fulfilling a dream that again, I never thought possible.  

Right now there is a lot of movement followed with a ton of support and love coming at us. So many people are coming forward to offer their help and words, and have given us so much hope that even though things are scary right now I feel enveloped in a cocoon of community.  Funny, huh, that in this time of such uncertainty the overriding thing that I feel is surrounded by love.

So with  all of this change I got to thinking about  the things that I have experienced from AEL  Kinkskills that have stayed with me over the years. There are so many skills that I now have thanks to this program. Before AEL  Kinkskills I couldn’t pierce, cut, do basic bondage,  or needle bondage,  I had never made my own  toy, and I didn’t understand the intricacies of violet wand, tantra, impact, or caning.

Over time I have seen others who have attended these classes take those skills that they learned and improve on them. The first time  that I saw someone do  needles after the class it made my heart sing, and I felt like I had really done something that made a difference.

The first time I saw a woman experience her inner dominance as she stood by a towering male partner because of something that I taught her- the ah-ha moment  on her face will always be with me.

The first time that I saw CBT and had it explained to me still makes me wince, but smile.

The first time I mummified my slave after a class, and the first time I ever saw saline injections!

I loved watching people come in smiling and laughing, my slave sitting at that front table welcoming all, and the talking and friendships that developed after the class.

I loved showcasing our local  experts and am  so  grateful for all that gave their time to teach, to  host, to  volunteer, and to  make this project the beauty and joy that it was.  For me it was a labor of love, and something that I am very proud to have been lucky enough to   have co-founded and facilitated.

Thank you everyone who was right along there with me learning and laughing. 

Thank you for making the last four years everything that I had always wanted it to be.

Very Sincerely,

 Master Bear

Thank you

I would also like to put out a special thank you to everyone who has been  so  wonderful about hearing about our home. The support that we have gotten  has been phenomenal, and has meant so  deeply much  to  both my slave and I.

Thank you SM for giving my slave hope and laughter and a shoulder for her tears and her fears, for helping us both to not feel alone.
Thank you Whip Daddy for listening to my shame, and fear, and for your support and gentleness.
Thank you Ow for your amazing insight, laughter, and  support.
Thank you to Me--y for what you have written me on Fet- those words mean  so very much, and I am  grateful.
 Thank you to all who wrote in and gave support on FB. Your words have meant a lot to both of us  and we read them over every day.

And thank you so  very much to K&C for giving us hope and support and love. For offering so much help that I still am trying to take in all the way the depth of what you have both done here.

I am  so  grateful to everyone.




 

My responsibility as a Master

When Masters become Masters they take on a lot of responsibility. Some if it is crotch based responsibilities in other words, it is the hot, sexual, libido driven responsibilities - like genital soreness and nipple teasing. These are the easy and fun things. 

However, signing up for being a Master also means that you sign up to lead, guide, and provide.

For me providing for my slave is one of my top priorities, and something that I have for years prided myself on. We have been, and still are poor but I work really hard for her to have full medical benefits, being the beneficiary of my   life insurance, and 401 K, should I pass.   AND then……

In 2009 we bought our first house. I felt so proud, like I had really provided for her, like she would be safe if something were to happen to me. For me buying the house wasn’t just about being a home owner, it was about me being able to say to  myself I  can provide, I do  provide, and I am  proud of it.

It didn’t take long for problems to set in and for the last four years things have gotten steadily worse leaving us financially devastated and me with a credit score just below homeless but above that guy that washes your windshield without you asking. As things would go from bad to worse and back to bad again (which was usually the upswing) I knew that I had my slave in a situation that was very dangerous for her. There were sometimes when we were two or three months behind and I knew that if something happened to me that she would be homeless, with little financial options   or job prospects.

It tore me apart. It was worse than being poor, having limited or no food, no heat, or hay for the horses. It was worse than driving without car insurance, having the bill collector’s call, or the sweaty palms when I went to go get the mail. It ate at me --the knowledge that the promise that I made to provide for her was falling through my fingers. It kept me up at night, and gave me nightmares when sleep did come, made my heart race and my ability to see myself as her Master eroded. I asked myself time and time again, if I cannot provide for her then what kind of Master am I?

So last week  we finally sat down and decided that we had done all that we could do, but it was time for a change, a move, and we needed to  walk away from this house that was four years ago a promise of a better life.

It was only after that decision was made and I had a day or two to think and process did I realize how far the financial realities of our life that I had normalized had actually eaten away at my identity as her Master. Then I got to thinking about all of the things that I was going to be able to provide for her after these changes are said and done.  

Not just the simple things in life like an actual consistent  grocery budget,  and paid utilities, better credit, and gas in the car but the other things, things like going to  a specialist when her knee hurts , or her back is aching,  and not having to worry about the 30 $ co-  pa.  I won’t have to  panic every time that she  coughs because it is 3 days past payday and if she needs a DR  we can  most likely pay the co pay, but being able  to  afford the meds is another matter entirely.  Things like  new bras when hers explode, things like that rose that she has wanted for two years,  and providing for the Betties to  keep  her strong, being able to pay for her classes  about herbs and flowers that she loves so much, and feeling like I am  really providing for her happiness and her future. 

Those things make me feel like I can provide for her, and like I can wear my identity as Master with pride again. Like if something should happen to me that she would be in a position to do something and to have security and safety again. Like the small things won’t be such a stretch any more.

 Like I can hold my head up again and say I did this for her, I sacrificed as she has sacrificed for me, and have those words mean something real.

Being poor did not eat at my sense of Mastery, never has, never will, but being able to provide, that is something else all together.

My slave is not extravagant, she doesn’t ask for much and she doesn’t complain when things are sparse, or difficult. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel it when I can t do for her, when I fail at providing for her. So this change, although  painful  and  difficult in its own  way gives me hope that I can  give my slave a better life, and one where she can  feel  safe and know that she is taken care of. 

That is my responsibility to and for her, and I am holding on to that for all that I am worth.

The depth of her service

Of all of the things that my slave does in my life there is one thing that stands above all others in her ability to be selfless and serve. It is not in how she tends to the house, the shopping, the meals, it is not her expansive and cunning sexual repertoire, or her endless patience in driving everywhere.   It is how she hears me. Her patient, logical, and kind ability to listen and hear me out, even when I start the dialogue with “I know that this isn’t logical…”

To me that is the ultimate in service and  her patience and listening  has comet o mean  more to me then  a  clean  house, a hot  meal, or even  an afternoon  romp.

Lately, I have been going through a lot of transition, it is the good kind, but painful, and absolutely taking its emotional toll on me.  When  I came home the other day after a very rough couple of conversations that gave me a lot to think about, Pokey our blind Appaloosa, had wandered off the property.   I was very grateful that the neighbors had stopped and caught him, but Rainey had run herself into a state of exhaustion out of worry and all of this while it is still early in her healing process from her life threatening leg injury. Luckily she wasn’t limping or sweating too much, so I don’t think that he was out long. Nevertheless, it is one of those incidents' that keep me up at night. Of course, the next day was set aside to repair our horse fence with Fort Knox-like sturdiness . I swear Pokey is like one of those velociraptors in Jurassic Park, always testing the fence line…

So back to transition. I am going through a lot of transition, and during these times I have found that the love and softness of my slave to be very comforting.    Her patience and understanding, her always finding ways to gently remind me about the difference in  what is right and when I make hasty decisions  that are  motivated by hurt and anger, what is my responsibility, and when it is not my job to carry the baggage of others.  She reminds' me of how much  I deserve and all that I offer to my friends', loved ones, and the community around me.   She reminds me of what I can and cannot control.  Her ability to provide all of these these things has  made all of the difference to me as I go through a world of emotional changes.   In these things I hold my slave in the highest esteem.  It isn’t that she tells me what is pretty, or what I want to hear,  it is that she tells me what I need to hear, even if it burn s a little. 

It is through service that she leads. 

I know that everything will work itself out.  Life has a tendency to do that.  I also know that in another year or so I will be looking back at this time thinking “that was rough, but I made it, and I have that under my belt as another accomplishment in life.” 

Of all of the things that are painful, difficult, challenging, and hurtful right now, it is her love that I will remember the most, her patience as she takes me onto her lap and scratches my back and tells me all of those things that help me to fall asleep.

That is service, it is love, and it is the most selfless act that is driven by hope, faith, service, and 11 years of a life together.

So through  all of the transitions I feel her walking with me, sitting on my shoulder, reminding me that I can  be better, I can  be more,  and being with her--   makes me want to be.

Race, Oppression AND Privilege

Recently there has been a lot of talk about race,   privilege, and oppression. Last month AEL’s munch was on unlearning racism that started with an opening exercise. The idea was that the moderator announces a group, and if you were a part of that group you moved across the room, and if you weren’t a part of that group you stayed put, with the option of being part of that group but remaining in the closet about it. 

The concept was that those that moved to the other side of the room were the oppressed, and those that stayed put were the oppressors.  If a person did not want to participate then they were asked to leave the room.

It was an interesting exercise that required a lot of vulnerability from the players and at first I didn’t really have an issue with the game or how it played out. For me the game was about me being honest with myself and honest with the other players. The qualifiers included everything from race, class, abuse, ability and so on. 

About a week  later I was talking about the exercise with a friend who  said that the issue for them was not that the oppressed people went to the other side of the room, but that those who were left over where automatically oppressors because they did not belong to the oppressed group.

When the moderator said “has a visible disability” those that moved to the other side of the room were the oppressed and those that stayed put where the oppressors of that group, or someone who remained in the closet. 

So- I have a visible disability, I need glasses. But I didn’t move to the other side of the room because I don’t feel that bad eyesight is a disability. That made me either in the closet regarding my visible disability, or an oppressor of those that had visible disabilities.

 I thought about that for a while, and I thought, just because I was borne a certain way or have achieved certain things, does not automatically make me an oppressor. It does make me a person with privilege, I have white privilege, women privilege, dyke privilege, middle class privilege and to a certain extent leather privilege. But that does not automatically mean that I oppress those of color, men, straight people, upper class people or vanilla people. 

I am not egotistical enough to believe that I am not a racist or unbiased, that I don’t see color, religion, or gender. I see all of those things and being married to black witch women does not absolve me from being a racist either.

I am biased; I believe that we all are that is what makes oppressor vs. oppressed such a complicated issue. Just because I am  a lesbian does not mean  that I cannot  be oppressed by other lesbians, and just because I am  a lesbian  and considered  oppressed doesn’t mean that I don’t have the power to  oppress straight people.

What all of this does mean is that we all have choices to make every day, choices in what we say, what we do, what we get angry over, what we are vulnerable to, and what we choose to remain silent about.

Will  I still sweat  next  time I am  out at 3 AM  after a play party and  I have stop for gas- and need to cross through that group  of men to go pay for it. Yes I will. I will have a heightened alert for my safety and the safety of my slave -absolutely; can that mean that I could be considered being gender biased. You bet.  Do I care?  Nope.

I will go one further- I may not even get out of the car, and look for another gas station. Does that make me biased and perhaps even classist? Yep. Do I care? Nope.

I think my point here is that we can discuss all of the things that make up racism, biases, oppression and privilege, but unless we really focus on the things that matter we will never get anywhere.  So what matters?

I know what matters to me, civil and federal rights, personal safety and equality in the workplace. For me,  protecting my personal  safety and that of my slave by finding another gas station  is completely different then refusing to  medically treat a  male  and his friends.

They just aren’t the same thing. Right? Right?

Can it be argued that what starts as avoiding the gas station can end up as refusing to medically treat? Yes. It happened to gays in the beginning of the Aids crisis, and still occurs. It happened to Muslims and Arabs after 911 and still occurs, and it happens to the homeless every day. 

So what is my point here? I think my point here is racism; biases, oppression and privilege are complex issues that belong to all of us. Whether we want them to or not, and not one single thing gets us absolution from having to deal with those issues.

Just to be clear here, there is no real answer. There is no final right answer that makes any one of us that perfectly unbiased person.  And for the love of god stop having the" I am less racist then you" conversation- it’s embarrassing.