Easter

We arrived back home Monday afternoon and after unpacking the bags and cooking a nice and simple meal, I feel like I’m home again. Perhaps it becomes easier to return after being away if one is away more often!

The days we spent with Leo were amazing. He had sought out a really nice hotel with a spa, and as I predicted, I spent most of my time either at the spa, in the restaurant or in bed 🙂 And I guess in the next week I’ll go for salads, fruits and muesli 🙂

I was totally excited to meet Leo again. He and John meet more often and I try to step back and allow them to indulge in their time together after they waited so many years for each other, but sometimes that’s hard, because I feel for Leo, too. So when we met on Wednesday evening, I was jumpy and nervous, but he was as kind as ever and after one or two hours, I was able to relax and just enjoy us being together again. We went to the restaurant and they offered to make a special meal for me as I don’t eat meat and have difficulties in digesting dairy. And so they did every day!

Leo had booked a suite with two bedrooms and two bathrooms, so that we didn’t have to leave our suite to swap beds 🙂 That was nice, because in most other hotels we have to book two rooms and then step out on the corridor if we want to change rooms, and that of course makes people notice sometimes. For me, that’d be O.K., but both John and Leo like to be a bit more discreet, and that’s why the suite was perfect.

This weekend, I spent most of my time as Blaubeermann, even though when we were in our rooms, I sometimes dressed up as Ginny. That too was in order to not be noticed. I guess there a places where you don’t mind other people’s opinion and others where you try to keep private what’s private. It was O.K. for me, especially in the spa, and when we finally shut the door behind us in the evenings, I was happy to put on make up and dress in pretty things 🙂 Some weeks ago I saw a nice picture on tumblr with a guy wearing a blue panty and blue stockings and with the words added “I don’t mind blue for for boys as long as there’s a lot of lace included!” LOL

Now everything’s back to our usual schedule and John and I are making plans for our next holidays in June. He said he wants to show me his hometown and the area he grew up in, and perhaps we’ll go there (or we might go there in October?). I said I always wanted to travel to Scandinavia, but be objected he doesn’t want to get killed by mosquitoes LOL We’ll see.

For this week, I haven’t planned anything special, just work, Yoga and running. On the weekend, John and I will be attending a BDSM party and therefore I am kept chaste this week, with a nice pink bow added to the Birdlock 😉

Happy Easter!

The Easter Holidays came suddenly this year, didn’t they? I had barely time to adjust to everyday life, when we already tossed out clothes into the suitcases again: in about one hour we’ll start off to meet with Leo in Austria. He invited us to spend four days with him in a luxurious spa hotel and I guess I’ll spend my time between spa, restaurant and bed 😉 Wishing you all happy Easter and enjoy yourselves!

Still Practicing Yoga

It’s been a while since I’ve written about Yoga, so I thought I might give a quick update 🙂 Well, I’m still practicing Yoga on a regular basis. At the moment, I’m attending two courses (one of them will end in April) and I try not to miss any units. Over the time, I’ve gotten a bit more comfortable with being “exposed” to a group of people and I’m able to close my eyes for longer periods of time without fearing I might miss any threats or whatever. Moving around the room, especially to dance, is still not easy for me. I would avoid that if I did it on my own.

My teacher has asked me about what I think about becoming a Yoga teacher. To be honest, this question bothered me, because I don’t see myself as capable of being a teacher. I think in general I miss any qualities a teacher should have and fail to regard myself as a person of authority. I don’t strive to be more than a pupil. Moreover, I think if you want to be a Yoga teacher, Yoga should mean more to you than it does to me. Don’t get me wrong here, I’m really into Yoga and am very thankful for what I find in Yoga, but it’s not a kind of lifestyle for me. I like what it does to my body and, on good days, to my soul, but I also struggle a lot with some teachings and don’t regard myself als “the Yogi”, if you know what I mean. I don’t even see myself as a great worshipper for Lord Shiva. I honour my spiritual side, but I know I could easily get lost in it, so I prefer to back off a bit.

I have tried wearing white clothes for Yoga, but there was no effect except for stains on the white clothes. I have tried to tie a knot out of my hair, but didn’t feel the energy flow better than before. And that’s true for most of those things. My teacher keeps telling me that the energy level is higher when you wear white clothes and tie a knot to your hair regardless of your feelings, but meh…why should I do it if I don’t mind at all?

What I like most about regular Yoga is that it keeps me flexible and is a great help to try to stay focussed, just like running. And I like that kind, welcoming attitude in our Yoga room. That’s enough for me though.

Feeling Guilty

Ever since there’s Ginny, there have been doubts and feelings of shame to deal with. And, if I’m honest to myself, shame concerning the mere fact that I’m a sexual being and need things I myself regard as deviant. Looking back at almost three years of blogging, I can clearly see that I have been writing about that from the very beginning on. In my life, there has never been a single day since I first had sexual feelings I was not embarrassed for what I feel. I always felt guilty for what I like, but I was never able to do anything about it. I’ve tried though, really devoted. There were times when I’d only allow me to wank and cum when I managed to think of “good and clean” things like normal sex with just kissing, petting and penetration. There were even times when I hit myself hard in the face with a wooden spoon or whatever was handy when I felt my thoughts drifted off. I guess that was counterproductive, because of course I liked the pain. Stupid me.

I tried to see my needs as a sort of other life. There was Blaubeermann, a nice guy trying to be a good and normal person, and there was this other guy who craved all that nasty stuff. I didn’t even have a name for him, but regarded him as evil and dirty. I felt ashamed for him, but I needed him so badly, because only he enabled me to have a sexuality I enjoyed, but still felt ashamed for. To put it short, I demonised a part of me and therefore, myself. That again led to self-harm. For a while, I didn’t cut myself, but even then I hurt myself, be it by eating not enough, be it by violating thoughts about myself. All just because of what I sexually need. Ugh.

Living together with John is a daily challenge for me. He is in line with his desires and his appetite, moreover, he is proud of having a fulfilling sexuality and enjoys it thoroughly. He doesn’t question being sadistic and dominant (in fact, he says that he questioned it when he as a boy found out that he is sadistic, but accepted it very quickly as an important part of hisself and his desire). He often says he has to stick to so many rules in his everday life that in bed he wants to be as brazen as he wants to be and not worry or even think about the ethical dimension of what he needs. When we met, we had some serious conversations about his dominant/sadistic and my submissive/masochistic needs concerning the abuse. Was it O.K. to hurt me after all my father did? I said yes, with my heart going berserk. Because what my father did wasn’t consensual, safe or sane in any aspects. John knew my borders from the beginning on. Yes, he touched them, he even passed over, he even made me do things I didn’t know I needed or wanted, but whatever he did, he did so in agreement with me. Of course you could object that I myself don’t know how to respect my borders. That’s right and that makes it very difficult for the both of us. We both know I sometimes pass beyond any border and that if he asked me to shed my life for him, I would. And that’s not chitchat. You know what you’re talking about when you allow your partner to suffocate you until you pass out. As a consequence it makes it inevitable for him to stay highly conscious of what we do. He’s the controller, so to say. If we would rely on me to say stop, I’d be lost.

For him, anything I crave for is O.K. He is not as much into certain things as me, but that’s no problem. For him, sexuality is pleasure, joy, a playground and a needed downtime from a life full of work and responsibilities. It was hard for me to make him understand that my sexual feelings are the reason for feeling guilty and ashamed. “You just need that, don’t worry”…how often did I hear that?

During therapy, I have learned that my desires don’t arise out of the blue mist. They are the outcome of anything that happened to me. Moreover, obviously some needs are genetic endowments, which all in all makes it impossible to get over them. I was only 4 years old when I got aroused by the imagination of me being tortured, which on the one hand shows that I do have a certain amount of sadism in me, which on the other hand makes it clear that I learned very early to put that sadism onto myself. My father overpowered me again and again and I had no other chance than to find pleasure in that. Otherwise I’d have gone nuts…well, even more than I did. To be honest, I need to be overpowered, because I don’t have the courage to just like what I like. To pretend I get overpowered and am forced to like what I like makes it only possible to have sexual desire at all! Truly consensual sex, like normal sex, isn’t possible for me. Maybe it’s sad, maybe O.K., I don’t know. It makes me sad that what I need is just another sign for what he did. On the other hand, nothing gets me going like humiliation, being overpowered, being hurt and used. The only way to stop that would be my castration. Not that I had not considered that and if the health issues connected with loss of testicles wouldn’t be so huge, I’d really take account of that just to make it end.

I’m seriously affected by my desires. I wish I could just accept them, accept myself and accept that I was just a child and therefore helpless. I objectively know it wasn’t my fault, but still I feel guilty and depraved for that.

Fuerteventura

I’m back home 🙂 Our holidays were fantastic and I enjoyed them thoroughly. During the flight from Germany to Fuerte, first I was really scared, but John kept holding my hand and once the plane was in the air, I was able to relax. And they served a nice vegetarian meal as well 🙂 The people were really friendly and we as a gay couple felt good among them. The most beautiful sunsets, stunning beaches, a nice hotel with a superb restaurant and walks by the sea to talk, talk, talk the day and night away. We had a hire car and saw a lot of the island, and John made about 800 pictures 🙂 I was so thankful for anything and could really relax and enjoy myself. Sigh.

John had promised me a little surprise and I was so happy when on our last evening on this beautiful island, he presented me with my 2nd pearl for my Pandora charm bracelet, a little heart-shaped lock with a key. He blinked and said that’s not only for his heart but also for my Birdlock LOL

In our hotel, we had a big room with our own patio, where I was able to wear my bikini without anybody noticing. I always felt like I suddenly only consisted of boobs, because they seemed so big in that bikini, but I liked it and John obviously as well. I spent most of the time as Ginny, with my small silicone boobs on and with a dress. It’s always nice to be somewhere where nobody knows you. Everything’s so liberated, then. On a market, I found some pretty handmade hairslides, and John presented me with a scarf. I like those souvenirs, they remind me of a good time 🙂

Before we had flown to Fuerte, John had made contact with a man who likes sissies like me, and we met. He’s English, but has been living in Fuerte for more than 30 years now. It turned out that he’s not just into Sissys, but also likes to dress gurlish. He was a kind person, but I could feel that John was a bit uncomfortable with this situation, because he had made that appointment only to have me used and not to watch an elderly guy in stockings. Afterwards, we had a conversation about what John called “aesthetics”. He thought an elderly man with so much wrinkles and flaccid skin shouldn’t dress up gurlish because that just makes him look pathetic and ridiculous. I could see his point, because yes, somehow he was pathetic and ridiculous, at least at first. On the other hand, he was very competent in showing his feminine and submissive side, very genuine, and the longer we had been with him, the more I could see that. Uhm, I dunno.

To be honest, I hope we’ll return to Fuerte one day, because there would still be so much to explore, and I’d like to go hiking there next time. John and I are discussing our next trip 🙂