Balance (Part 2)

So where was I?  Oh yes, on the idea of “balance.”  It came up again over the weekend that we took the pictures you saw in my first post on the topic, and later, again, as we started making preparations for Dark Odyssey – Fusion.  Not as something I shared outwardly, but that I experienced inwardly, and that I have been examining and thinking a lot about.
Actually all this noodlin’ started the weekend that Lew Ruebens came to town and W, Ad and I did Lew’s rope intensive weekend.  As those of you that I have been reading me for a long time know, my relationship with W has been predicated on the fact that I don’t want to have a say in what we do, kink-wise. As my Fet profile says, “I show up, and he does things to me.”  It could be a tagline for our relationship, at least in the beginning.
In many respects this is still true, but as we’ve grown together in what we do, and as I’ve grown into my own as a kinky person in my own right, there’s been a subtle shift from that dynamic to one where, occasionally, I feel comfortable “co-directing,” as it were.  And…I am learning to ask for things that I want, too, although I still find that almost unbearably uncomfortable and difficult to do (and, in fact, botch up quite a bit.) Lewbari weekend that meant learning the how’s and why’s of some of the ties, advising both of them as to what felt good, bad, right and wrong, giving them suggestions for how to do things and, ultimately, asking for some specific kinds of rope play and even making suggestions in what they were doing to me.
At least in the “learning” part of the weekend. During play, that control was stripped from me (thank goodness.) But that freedom to make suggestions, to ask for things, stuck with me, and has continued to be a part of our interactions at times. On the weekend of the photos in the previous post, it meant literally being in the driver’s seat and telling W exactly what I wanted to achieve, image-wise, for several of the pictures we took.  It also meant having to state, explicitly, that I wanted bondage, and that I wanted a lot of it–all day, if we could manage. I’ve wanted a day–or even two–of going from one scene to another for awhile.  Ever since this weekend, as a matter of fact. (Go on, read about it.  I’ll wait here.  You can also find more about it here. And don’t worry, all my links open in a new window.)  But yes…what I really want, what I’m yearning for, is that level of…not having to “consent,” because when I walked through the door I already had.  Of not discussing what I wanted and simply being there for him to do things to; for his use.  Of simply having things done to me.  On this past weekend, I knew it wouldn’t be that way, but I didn’t see any reason why we couldn’t at least keep me in rope as much as possible all day, since we had nothing else, no kids, no plans, that we had to work around.
And I said so.
Not only did I say so, not only did I ask for it, but when it looked like they thought about stopping, and Ad had had enough, I said I wanted more.
Yeah, I was a pushy bottom.
The thing is…regardless of me being brave enough to ask for it (and fuck that was brave of me, seriously) I knew the underlying dynamic hadn’t changed. Whereas I can kind of push Ad around, if I push hard enough and long enough, I know that the only movement I will get from W is if he wants to move.  And somehow, that made me braver. It made me more secure it asking for what I wanted, because there was an edge of uncertainty in it. He might not do it. And he certainly wouldn’t if he didn’t really want to.
I know, I know. Seems to counter everything I’ve said before about not asking for a thing because of my fear of rejection. But I am growing, and my relationship with W is evolving, and as it does I am learning not to fear him saying “no.” No doesn’t have to mean he is rejecting me. It just means, “I don’t want to.” Or, “I don’t want you to.” And I can live with that.
Then there is the “kidnapping” request that we submitted for me for Dark Odyssey. It goes like this. The powers that run DO have a crew of “kidnappers” available to fulfill campers’ kidnap fantasies.  You submit a request of what you’d like to have happen, as detailed and specific–or not–as you want.  And they try to fulfill it for you. Pretty cool, huh?
At first I thought I wouldn’t want to do it. It’s a little…edgy…for me, to have a team of unknowns doing things to me.  Hurty or scary or sexual things. But more than that, to have it done I had to first admit that I wanted it. And then, sit down and state exactly what I want to happen.
Ugh. I just didn’t see it working for me, on any level.
Until W suggested that he submit the kidnap request for me. Which was a great idea, except that I still had to sit down with him and give at least a broad outline of what I wanted to happen, and how, and what my limits are. Did I want to get jumped, did I want a take down scene, did I want an interrogation scene, did I want a rape scene? Did I want to get beat up or just physically molested? What did I want?  It was easier to talk about my limits (no ass rape, no face slapping, etc.) than what I wanted.  Because, yanno, I’m not supposed to want any of this stuff. Being kidnapped means “against your will,” right? So it was a bit of a stretch for me to even go there.
But go there I (we) did.  W devised a method to keep it an unknown to me, even as I supplied him (albeit reluctantly at first ) with the information he needed to sketch the parameters of the scene. And then I even went so far as to tell him I wanted something done differently when he sort of told me how the scene would work (if it happens, they don’t get to all the requests.) I was actually disappointed that he even told me that much–I seriously do not want to know what’s going to happen–but in the end I was glad, because while what he outlined is a freakin’ hot idea (he “gives” me, possibly after “softening” me up, to a group of “kidnappers” to use as they will) it really wasn’t what I had in my head as my kidnapping scene.  I know why he was planning it that way, and the reality is with my shoulder issues we may have to revert to that kind of scenario, but I really want to be surprised.  Taken off guard.  A little scared.
So I said so.
It felt so risky to say. Scary on a number of levels.  Both because if he changed it to that, there is a possibility that I might actually be scared.  (Or not. There is still a level of suspension of disbelief that I will have to acquire for it to work mentally, I think.) But also it was risky emotionally to me because I was contradicting what W had planned, what he wanted. And hell, what he wanted was such a fucking hot idea, if mine didn’t work, then I’d feel stupid (and disappointed) for having asked him to change it.
It also felt liberating though. In the same way that “demanding” bondage that weekend and asking to be played with felt.
On the other hand–and this is where we get back to my original point and topic–this newly-found liberation is not where I usually live, and not where I want to live most of the time, either.  The reason W and clicked so well in the beginning with that “I show up, he does things to me,” motto? Is because we both like that feeling of CNC, of me giving over complete control and him being in the driver’s seat. Of him finding those edges of where I might not be entirely willing, and then pushing on them.  Hard.
And so though the pendulum has swung over to this place where I have been actively asking for things, actively directing things, I want to go back home. I want to be in that other space with him again.  I need to be there again.
I need both spaces to feel whole.  To feel balance.