TRUST and the catharsis of tears.

trust and tears
Photo by Kat Jayne on Pexels.com

Trust is the basis of everything, not just in kinky relationships but everything.

In my post Happiness is only real when shared I sent you to read a good friend of mines post on Fetlife. He spoke about the different layers of trust and his personal struggles with them. I know that not everyone is on Fetlife, but this was a post that I wanted the world to see. Well, a wider audience at least… So I asked him if I could share it here, and he has agreed that I can post his original post here.

Where would we be without trust?                                                                                          It is vitally important in all walks of life, you trust your doctor, your dentist, your mechanic, your bank, your friends, but it’s even more important in the games that we play – we trust that someone won’t bring a third-party into our play when we have expressly said not to (yes, it’s happened to me), and after all how many here would allow someone to do the things that they do without at least a modicum of trust?
And that’s the thing isn’t it.
Now I personally find it incredibly difficult to trust anyone – I know why this should be, I know where it stems from – I have spent too many years with counsellors and there is just too much in my past that influences it, I have tried not to let my past define me but in many ways haven’t been overly successful. For me trust now comes in three flavours (shall we say), there is trust, Trust and TRUST. The first, well that is just your bog standard ‘I trust that you will not fuck me over Mr Mechanic’, Trust is a step up from that and most friends are at that level, they’re the ones I would go to with personal issues and the ones who know a lot of stuff about me and I guess that for most people this what they would consider to be trust, but TRUST, that is reserved for the special ones, the people who know more still… and if you get to that final one and then betray it, well, you know.
TRUST is also the level I need before I can relax and fully immerse myself in a scene.
Several years ago Mistress Magpie wrote a piece in New Statesman about a sub she had who visited her regularly and who wanted to be spanked to tears, she mentioned how that person was incredibly stoic, and how it took time to build up mutual trust in order to fulfil that need until the day came where she broke that sub and they were indeed able to cry. This article came out around the time of 50 shades – and was written in direct response to it, it was a direct ‘this is what is wrong with everything in that film’.
Three guesses who that sub was – if you said me, then go to the top of the class.
And that is the thing, I need to be spanked/beaten/tortured to tears, I need to be broken, because there is something incredibly cathartic in those tears and god knows I need that catharsis, I need the full sobbing with snot running down and yet I can’t do it.
In scene my TRUST is broken.
Now I Trust the person that I play with, I Trust them implicitly, and I allow them to do all sorts of things to me, playing with limits, putting me through emotional torment and horrors galore and seriously head fucking me – believe me, they wouldn’t get near me with sounds if I didn’t – but Mr Stoicism, that side of me who blocks me from letting go and embracing TRUST and tears just wont back down – I can get close, I can get to the point where I THINK I am going to cry … and that’s it, nothing follows.
And this is frustrating, I find that EVERY time I play now it is almost like there is a part of me that is separate, looking on with calm dispassion, feeding me truth to dispel the things that are said in scene and thus dispelling the fear that I need and preventing me from fully letting go.
I find that I now completely disassociate from a scene.
This is what happens when TRUST is broken.
And it is being incredibly unfair on the person that I play with! She knows what I need, and she tries incredibly hard to give it, she has worked hard to improve her CP, she acts the complete bitch because she knows it gives me pleasure, she will grind heels into my flesh and torture me endlessly and she knows that I get satisfaction, pleasure and relief from seeing her … but she also knows that without the catharsis of tears (hmm, sounds like a bad novel) then I am unfulfilled. And whilst she has never said anything about that, other than on those occasions when she thought maybe she had succeeded, still I feel bad for not being able to TRUST her.
Now you could say that maybe I don’t actually need to cry anymore, that maybe that part has passed and I am on a different path now, and yes I will grant you the possibility even whilst I don’t really agree – I have my reasons for saying that. I will also grant that after last year maybe that has caused me to back away emotionally but I thought that with time and the same play partner (and off and on I have seen this person for over a year) that maybe it would return. So far there is no sign of that and so I am resigned to the possibility that, just maybe, it isn’t going to happen.
Trust, you know, it is important!

TRUST and the catharsis of tears was written and originally posted by slave lytton.

There is no one giant step that does it, it’s a lot of little steps.

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Following Kink and Cake my Fetlife profile suddenly became more interesting.

Before I had even arrived home I had received half a dozen friends requests, and as I accepted them my feed gradually took on a different feel. No longer was it littered with pictures and writings by unknown kinksters, there were now updates from people I had met, experiences that I could relate to. Over the following days I uploaded a couple of pictures of my bruised feet and had likes and comments from people I knew. My confidence was still fragile and I hadn’t quite come round to the fact that people may actually like me; this was providing more evidence to the contrary.

I had a little over two weeks to wait until the fetish night and I was starting to worry.

I had the usual butterflies chasing each other around in my belly at the thought of going somewhere new. But more than that, I also had no idea what I should be wearing, how I should behave and how I would feel faced with 70+ kinksters in a setting I had never experienced before. When I started my journey as a submissive I assumed that these kinds of events would be experienced under the supervision of Sir and his ideals would be spelled out for me. As this was not to be I had to keep pushing myself, driving forward to this monumental task of my own setting!

True to form my curiosity got the better of me.

Rather than sitting and wallowing in my doubts and fears I took to the internet. Reading the event’s page on Fetlife gave me a clue on the “rules” and reassured me that I would be safe. It also gave me an insight into WHO would be attending. I had never noticed this before, but on events there are lists of people going, maybe going and friends going. I probably hadn’t noticed this because until this point I hadn’t had any fet-friends. Now though there were 7 people going that I had already met, plus the two hosts.

So I sent a few private messages.

The first person I messaged was Tr who had decided that he would be going along with CC. They had been to events together before, and as this was the relaunch party they were happy to travel a bit further than they usually would, and spend the night in a hotel so they didn’t need to travel back the same night. I asked what they would be wearing, and was told that they would be wearing latex. We arranged to catch up in the club and I looked forward to seeing them in their outfits, but I knew that wasn’t something I would be wearing… yet.

So no outfit tips for me there but at least I would know two people. 

Next up I messaged MT, the submissive man who had flexed his switchy muscles on my feet the previous week at Kink and Cake. He really put my mind at rest in a lot of ways. His Domme was going with her husband so he would essentially be going on his own and he said that he would meet me inside the door when I arrived, he always arrived to things early so expected to be one of the first in. When I asked him what he would be wearing I was a lot less intimidated by his answer; he would be wearing smart black trousers, a smart black shirt and smart black shoes. I knew that I didn’t want to wear all black, but I knew now that I didn’t have to go all in with expensive outfits. I had no idea if I would want to attend more events in future and was reluctant to spend out a lot of money on something I would wear once.

With MT’s outfit in mind I started looking for inspiration online.

I found a number of ideas and sent the links to MT. With his help I narrowed it down to one outfit that I would be comfortable with. I wanted to check with someone on the other end of the outfit spectrum and sent the links to Tr who thought it looked a good choice. I ordered myself the corset style top and had decided I would wear black leggings and my killer heels with it.

Outfit sorted with a week to spare, next I needed to work on what I would need to take.

This was easier as I didn’t have a lot of kit. I did have a pair of carpet beaters and a little leather slapper. My children had a lot of hot wheels track so I borrowed a length of that as it was something we had been discussing at Kink and Cake as a potentially stingy pain. With my kit planned and my outfit on its way all that was left was to wait. Fortunately work and the children took up so much of my time I barely had time to worry, and when I started to fret I did something I have never associated with stress relief.

I painted my nails, toes and fingers, to match the colour of the top I would be wearing.

toe nails (2)

Let us stumble through the night and make friends with all the stars.

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Time continued to slip past like water slips through my fingers.

After K had said she wanted to join me and Sir for a scene she had given me her email address so he could contact her. He asked that I gave her his contact details so that he would know it was her choice to contact him. As time passed he still hadn’t heard from her, and we decided that I shouldn’t remind her about it as I didn’t want to be that friend. If she wanted to join us but had lost his details then she could ask, but if she had changed her mind it would be better to not push things and pressure her.

So I kept up a search on fabswingers, for a female playmate and a woman to join us.

One of the ladies I had spoken to in my very early days on the site had been nervous about BDSM and exploring her bi side. She had never been with a woman, and had experienced dark times in her first foray into kinky sex. We had chatted for a while, and then parted company. One day I noticed B pop up in my “Last 100 people to view you” page so I thought I would say hello. I discovered that she had been thinking about the scenario again, but would be nervous about blindfolds. She would also like to have a social meet first (a new thing for her, but standard practise for me) to see if there was any attraction to me. I would be her first female playmate and she was very nervous. She seemed to be quite interested in the power exchange dynamic between myself and sir, but was clear that she wasn’t submissive at all.

We were arranging the social meet for an early summer’s evening while the boys were with their dad when B surprised me.

She said that she wanted to ask sir if he was happy for us to meet. After checking with him I put her in contact. She was clearly very careful that he would understand she was asking if I would be allowed to meet her, rather than the other way around. 

I would really like to meet with N and have my first Bi experience.
Are you happy to give N permission to meet with me? if after chatting, that is something she would like to do
I look forward to hearing from you

With his blessing we finalised plans to spend an evening getting to know each other. Both keen sea swimmers we decided to go to the beach for an evening dip, and then find a cafe for a drink. The swim was wonderful and we laughed in the waves, then, with the sea sparkling in our eyes we dried and dressed on the beach and over a hot chocolate the conversation flowed. We got on so well we decided to stay out for dinner, and there was definite spark. We swapped stories about our experiences on fab and life in general, even sharing a kiss which we both enjoyed. She commented on feeling sexual attraction towards me, and being surprised to be feeling that, and I had to agree.

We parted ways at the end of the evening, and promised to keep in touch. 

We planned to meet again soon, hopefully to play. She wanted to gain confidence again before stepping into the world of BDSM again, her experiences with Dominant men had been less than positive, but in the meantime we could both gain confidence with women. Looking back now I see that evening with B as a date. It was not just my first date with a woman, it was my first date EVER. At this point I had no idea how important this wonderful woman would become to me.

Beautiful, bonkers, and brilliant B.

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A wise man’s question contains half the answer.

Sir and I got back into a routine of contact but our vanilla lives got in the way of seeing each other.  

As ever I felt that buzz whenever I got that email notification from him. With my world being so busy it was almost a relief that he did not ask me to complete tasks as often as before he went missing. There were no questions that his needs of a semi-regular scene partner matched my desire to have him back in my life but with a lack of availability. The first chance we had to meet up again fell through due to a last-minute change in his work location. The second fell through because P decided last minute that he wouldn’t be having the children as planned.

But still we forged ahead with conversation and an online companionship of sorts.

My local friendship with K was blossoming, and she would invite me to dinner on evenings when I was child free. And there were M and R who, though further away, I enjoyed spending time with too. As my confidence grew in these three friendships I would make plans, with the knowledge that they would fully understand if I needed to change my plans last-minute. That could be due to Sir becoming available, or P being a wally!

It felt very much like things were starting to fall into place in my life.

I had made friends with understanding and kinky people, and Sir was just an email away, what I was missing was real-life interaction with deviants. Not for play, but for learning about the way people enjoy the BDSM lifestyle. I find people endlessly fascinating, and this curiosity was burning away inside me. I was still on Fetlife, finding my way and making those online connections. Two people who I was in contact with were Cephelo and Eretria. They were the owners of studio onyx which is where I had played with H on a number of occasions. They hosted a number of different events, and one was happening on a weekend when the boys were staying with their dad. It was also a weekend that Sir would definitely not be free, and as ever he encouraged me to continue growing.

We had discussed the “community” when he first took me on.

He chose not to be actively involved in the community due to the number of “experts” and the associated drama. He fully supported me in finding my own way. The event I had found was a fetish party. They held it monthly at the time, and I was itching to go along and dip my toes into the wider scene. So I spoke to Sir about it, sending him the information I had available for him. We chatted about the studio and the owners, the dress code, and my nerves…. Though excited at the thought of attending I was very, very nervous. I’d been to Onyx before, but never driven myself there. I sent an email to them, asking for the postcode and directions  and while I waited for a response I decided on an outfit of sorts…

Side shot of outfit Crouching shot of outfit

 

I sent the pictures to Sir, expressing my worries about the party.

The outfit met with his approval, though he pointed out that I may get a little chilly. A very valid point, given the time of year particularly! He asked me two questions about the evening:

  1. Did I want to go?
  2. Would I be safe?

If the answer to both of those questions was Yes then I would have my answer. If either came back as a No then I should stay home with my back up plan: my toy box and my imagination.

I had just about convinced myself that I would go when I noticed the time.

I would need to drive for an hour to reach Onyx, and for me to reach the event in time I had to hear back with directions before the cut off time. And I didn’t.  They got back to me ten minutes past that point. Could I have gone along at that point? Probably. Did I end up just chickening out? Highly likely. Hindsight shows me that I could have called the number on their event page, but also I don’t think I was ready for a fetish party at that point. I was heartened to know that I was growing and getting braver all of the time. Planning an outfit, and asking for directions were two major steps for me. It is funny how two simple questions can have such an impact on my understanding of myself and my lifestyle, but those two questions asked by Sir have remained as clear guidelines since then.

Answering Yes to two simple questions opens so many doors.

opening doors

A wise mans question contains half the answer was originally posted on A leap of faith.

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