Ephemera * Etherea

Fallen Angels BDSM Club on Second Life

I asked that a serious question be answered first. Was this rule about Switches, that had been put in place over a year ago, going to be changed back to how it was before, with both Dominant and submissive discussions being open to Switches and of course Switch discussions being open to all.

The response I received was that it would be left to the individual bias and prejudice of each discussion facilitator and should a facilitator decide to block Switches from attending, they may ask for verification of what someone identified as (“papers papers, where are your BDSM papers!?”) or decide to boot based on rumor.

A cop out so that management would not have to make a firm decision, make a statement about Fallen values, and actually lead. All in the name of making “most” feel comfortable. Somehow this seemed justified. Hey it doesn’t affect the majority so what do they care, right?

I resigned.

~~~

After recounting my tale, I was told by a friend that there are no rights on Second Life.

I laughed because I suppose they are right.

If the the Voting Rights Act and Civil Rights Act had been left up to some in Second Life, I’m inclined to believe after today that women wouldn’t have the vote and we’d still have segregation in the U.S.

After all, once the majority feels comfortable, everything is justified. That was the bill of goods someone attempted to sell me today. Thank the Goddess that the U.S. doesn’t rely on popular vote for such things.

~~~

I returned to Fallen Angels BDSM Club in Second Life in June of this year (2012). I worked there previously for about 10 months and left in May of 2011.

I returned because I was told by one of the previous owners, someone I respect, that things were changing and the old Fallen was being brought back. She was already back. I was amazed and ecstatic. She told me to come and I bounced right over.

I hadn’t stepped foot in the place for 14 months.

I left, others left, and then the club proceeded to spiral into a junior high state of cliques and ranks. All I ever heard about Fallen from friends was bad news for more than a year after I quit.

I am a cautious person by nature. I’ve let passions get the better of me in SL and made a firm decision that this time around, I would have clear perspective. Second Life is but one aspect of reality and not the most important aspect by far.

~~~

I was re-instated to all my former duties and roles and took up the regular Saturday munches. I was asked to lead other discussions that align with my interests and who I am. Daddy and babygirl discussion groups. Polyamory discussion groups.

I declined because I wanted to get my bearings and see which way was up at Fallen now. Was the place really changing for the better again? I also didn’t want to burn out as I had before. I kept my distance as the last gasps of drama from those who had brought Fallen low were sounded.

Some were asked to leave and some left of their own volition. With a slew of unnecessary dramatic flourishes in the staff group and main group.

The facilitator for the Switch discussion group became vacant though I don’t know if that was related to the nonsense above. No details were given to me. But I was asked if I would step in.

This goes back to the reason I left Fallen to begin with.

~~~

May 2011

The majority decided that Switches, a group of people who identify as both Dominant and submissive, would be blocked from attending either Dominant or submissive discussion groups. The reason was “safety”.

Apparently Switches inherently have a flaw in character which threatens the safety of those who aren’t Switches.

I was disgusted by this and as usual, those who this little rule did not affect had no problem with it.

It was ironic because previously there was such a outcry against having a TNG group (The Next Generation, aimed at 18-35 demographic in the bdsm community) within Fallen because older members felt their sense of entitlement disturbed. How dare someone try to exclude them from something? It’s always a travesty when it’s “you” and a shame when it’s “them”.

~~~

June 2012 - July 2012

Nothing has changed.

~~~

I am happy that I have some knowledge of how BDSM groups and clubs work in First Life. They are inclusive and seek to educate and they flourish because of that. There is a keen understanding of what being a Dominant, Submissive and Switch means. This sensitivity leads to the needs of the entire group being addressed without a stigma being placed on anyone. And safety is always uncompromisingly maintained.

The age of Fallen Angels BDSM Club being the gold standard on Second Life and the closest thing people will get to a First Life BDSM club in a virtual world is done.

I’ve cut all ties to Fallen. It was one step on a journey and I have better things to do than deal with the same old nonsense all over again. I’ll keep to being centered on what BDSM actually is and let others continue to play make-believe at being  BDSM leadership.

Happy Updates and such

Updated my mp3 player. Feeling happy about that!!!

An old friend re-emerged on Second Life and subsequently semi-First Life. He’s now my submissive. Or he is once again. It has been an amazing experience. Full of carnal pleasures… yet I’ve found that he is more than a toy or plaything or comfortable man plushie. I see him in a completely new light and with a new respect as well. He’s quite intelligent.

He managed to help me re-focus myself on what’s important.

Simply.

My happiness.

Doing what I feel will perfect and enrich me as a person, and that will perfect and enrich my life.

A profound conversation that lasted well into one morning. Jump started my philosophical mind, quelled fears and doubts, boosted confidence and energized my drive to do.

To do the things that will improve my life and to get rid of those things that do not help me or that would impede me doing what’s necessary to achieve these things.

This refreshed outlook on my life is not attached to my submissive and should the relationship end, I know I would continue. However, if it weren’t for him, I am not sure I would have had the realization when I did.

I accepted and let go of recent events more easily than I would have. I separated the important from the frivolous. I accepted my mistake and the fact that what I had originally thought was worth a great deal was not worth it in the end. I gave more than I received. Another case of ‘illusion of depth’ that occurs in Second Life so often. [Hint: People do need to prove themselves worthy, never declare love or anything based on a hope of what someone could be. Always look at the reality. Anything else is fooling yourself.]

Sadly, the nature of many in Second Life are people who are miserable in their First Life and come to SL to pretend to be what they are not. They are more populous than those who come to Second Life to be themselves, to be who they are in First Life in pixels, not a character or imagining of what they aren’t.

~~~

Overall I’ve been feeling good and made progress in my First Life goals. Everything feels so much brighter than it has in quite some time. And I don’t plan on stopping, step by step forward.

Everything will fall into place once I am working towards what is important. My happiness.

Dominance and Irresponsibility

I have gotten to the point of frustration that I fall into tears.

It hurts.

We are the ones that are to be protected and directed by him. It is not the other way around.

It isn’t happening. No guidance. No direction. No interest. No action. Only words and no change in behavior.

I don’t know how to say again what I need when I’ve said it so many times before and it’s fallen on deaf ears. As if it wasn’t important.

Perhaps, it is a matter of “illusion of depth,” as someone said in one bdsm discussion on SL.

A Dominant is someone who cares for their submissive and takes that responsibility seriously.

A Dominant puts the required time and effort that it takes if they truly want to be another person’s guide, guard and director, if they truly want to own that person. If this cannot be done, this person should not have a submissive.

In other words, if your pets always die because you can’t be bothered to water, feed, walk and get them vaccinated, you shouldn’t have pets.

A Dominant provides dependability, consistency and stability to their submissive, not chaos and erratic behavior. Not unsteadiness. Not broken promises.

A Dominant creates order, not chaos.

A Dominant does what is needed, makes decisions and does not run from the responsibilities he has chosen.

A Dominant does not take on more responsibility than they can handle and ignore the problems that arise because of neglect.

A Dominant does not seek out escapist distractions to the detriment of the submissives they chose to be responsible for.

A Dominant realizes past mistakes and seeks not to repeat them. A Dominant uses good judgement and changes behavior that is proven to have bad effects.

A Dominant does not allow submissives to manipulate them and destroy the structure of a household brick by brick.

A Dominant directs and does not put the burden of direction upon their submissive.

A Dominant knows what they want when they start a relationship with a submissive and guides accordingly with needed adjustments as they learn about their submissive.

A Dominant learns about their submissive.

A Dominant knows what they should do as a Dominant or seeks to learn so they do not damage those who are within their care.

A Dominant seeks to better themselves as well as their submissives.

~~~

It will tear me into pieces waiting for Dominance if it will not come. I accept what is and what isn’t.

I can be a friend and support those in the family who need taking care of.

I cannot be a submissive whose Dominant is M.I.A.

If change ever comes I welcome the possibility.

Until then I will close that side of me until it can be properly tended to.

Logs…

can be a form of self-torment…

Am I trying to torment myself…?

No…

But I read the logs…

and remember…

Maybe I just have a process…

and this is part of it…

To go over what was…

I’ve done it with others…

First meeting… first laughs… first passions… slow realization that it’s something more… right down to the end…

Oh yes… I can be real maudlin.

Moving on

(Yes, this is something of a letter and in a way it is not.)

From the moment I knew, that was the mode I slipped into.

Moving on.

It doesn’t mean that I do not feel. It doesn’t mean I do not hurt.

I know you heard it in my voice. I couldn’t hide it from you, but I wasn’t going to fall apart on that call.

Nor at anytime with you about this.

No, I am not sitting here focusing on that which is done.

Moving on…

…means I have to find a way to deal with the pain and heal. It means crying, it means being upset. It means taking step by step until I am over it.

It means writing in my blog about how I feel.

I know you don’t want me to hurt over you. I know it makes you feel guilty. That it makes you hurt too. But in this you cannot help.

I think four days out, I’m not doing such a bad job.

Yes I am a woman.

And amazingly in spite of that, I do know how to move on.

Think back over this week and tell me differently.

Tell me I’ve made demands on you that you cannot fulfill. Tell me I’ve clung to the past (even if the past was but a blink ago). Tell me I’ve been unreasonable. Tell me I’ve fallen apart on you. Tell me I’ve asked you to choose me.

Tell me I didn’t try to stop the wrecking ball.

I’ve not uttered a word except to help and to wish you happiness and love.

And that’s all I want.

I am not waiting for something to happen that may never happen.

Amazingly sensible for a woman no? Being wired in such womanly ways. (Am I harping? You didn’t think I’d catch that comment?)

Remember who was the D and who was the s my love.

Yes, I’m a little tender and sensitive inside. Nothing can be done about it. Time has to pass.

Do not worry after me. I cannot promise you that I will not shed tears over this.

But have I shown you much beyond a smile this week?

I will be ok.

Twisty twisting twisted

I don’t even know how it came up. Just that it knocked me for six and opened a floodgate I’ve decided to keep closed for just when I am with her.

Just conversation. To talk to her because I want to. Because I like to.

I will be a friend. And somehow it makes me feel better knowing I am helping somehow in possible happiness. Do I have to be the source of it? No.

I will train my mind on the concept that I would have been wrong for her regardless of if it’s actually true.

I can be insane at any other time but not when I’m with her and not about this.

Maybe I am making too big a deal of this.

Three weeks right? Too soon to be in love with someone.

Two months may be too soon to be in love with someone too for all I know. (Two months tomorrow I would have joined the Family). Another issue all it’s own.

But I don’t care. I am going to be and do what I feel for once. Sue me.

~~~

Maybe she wants me to dislike her. To be angry with her.

Maybe even to imagine that she is cruel. Dangling the possibility in front of me like that. The idea that she’s not sure that she made the right choice.

Why even talk about it? It hurts. Just leave it.

Planting such a thought.

Perhaps it is exciting knowing that she is desired like this.

Knowing I dislike people who toy with the emotions of others.

Telling me not to let her hurt me, because perhaps she is only being selfish.

And then what?

Cut things off and vanish from her life.

I wonder if that is what she wants. Would it make her happy never to hear from me again?

~~~

This is not a game.

There is nothing funny about what I feel, that the thing that I want can be so casually spoken of as if it doesn’t hurt.

What is, is. What isn’t, isn’t.

My emotions are not bouncy balls to be played with.

I’m not an amusement. Tread carefully.

~~~

Do I regret anything?

No.

I only wish I had let myself take at least one more week of caution. Just one more… and maybe the thing I thought might happen, wouldn’t have had such an impact on me when it did.

~~~

(And if you are reading this, you should be ashamed that you cannot do just this one last thing that I’ve asked you to do for me.)

Now…

what can I say of my feelings.

For the last three weeks, they’ve bounced around. Side to side, up and down, all around. Anger. Hurt. Fear. Yearning. Loneliness. Sadness. Mostly, they were down feelings.

And I did not write of it. I could not find it in me to express what I felt.

~~~

There was one port in the storm.

But she was so much more than that.

Not a replacement for anyone.

Bright feelings. Lusty. Funny. Carefree. Loving. Soft. Warm. Comfort.

There was an instant where I felt just fine. These past few days. Just fine.

Reassured finally by Daddy and no longer feeling down.

Everything seemed like it would be ok.

Nothing to be sad about.

New things to be happy about in fact.

~~~

Then that ended.

~~~

And still I cry. Whenever my eyes decide they want to leak.

In my head I always think I should have better control. Not seem weak.

Funny thing for a girl in this society to think, I suppose, yet I do.

And now I’m tired of hiding or putting up a pretense of being all right.

Tired of “holding it together.”

I’m not.

Not all right.

Not going to pretend to be.

Don’t know when I’ll be all right either.

If that’s tough for some to be around, they can suck it.

~~~

There is one thing that may to make me feel better.

Ironic as it is, I will do it until I’m told to stop.

Giggles and Giddy-ness

One of my sisters went to meet Daddy today. And now they’re all together.

It’s a happy day ^.^

And I’m grinning in a very silly way after I got a call from both of them.

~~~

In other news, my other sister Sora showed me this:

El Goonish Shive

*squeals*

The obsession to make my squirrel on Second Life is returning.

She suggests having one made.

I have no idea how much that would cost but perhaps it’s time to look into it.

Read this comic from here until today’s comic:

http://www.egscomics.com/?date=2011-12-15

http://www.egscomics.com/?date=2011-12-16

It’s not about me

I cannot touch him.

I cannot hug him.

I cannot reassure him of my presence when the presence of another seems faded.

The laughter can be shared.

The tears cannot.

More is needed. The distance is too wide.

I can sit and listen to the pain.

In his voice. In his words.

A pain not unlike something that devastated me.

I can feel the echoes of it. So much so that I want to run.

But how can I, when this is the only thing I can give right now?

Text and voice and a virtual presence.

I feel so helpless.

How does a little girl protect her Daddy?

In this moment I don’t want to be reassured.

I want to reassure, and in reassuring, be reassured that I can be more to him than just text, voice and pixels.

To show the truth of what I feel, to give him something bright in the midst of the dark.