Indian Summer

My dungeon’s walls are the trees and the sky, and it is lit by the full moon. What a beautiful place to play.

This summer has been rich and delightful; full of a renewed acquaintance with nature and fun that I thought I had lost long ago. In this last week I have gratefully squeezed every drop of enjoyment from its unexpected reprise.

Mat and I have certainly taken full advantage of the recent summery weather.
We have lain in the fields naked in the dark. I have delivered a delightful spanking, the sound of which echoed beautifully from the trees. I have fucked my boy with my strap on in the open air. We have made love under the stars.

There is a passion, an intensity, in being outdoors with my boy. A sense of freedom, of joy, of shameless pleasure.
Now it’s time to start thinking how we can play in the cold. I think I might be looking forward to snow.


I dislike conflict. Indeed, I’m prepared to admit, excessively so. I find it particularly difficult when I am unsure of the root cause (even when I may be aware of the immediate trigger) and when I don’t have a clear idea how the conflict may be resolved.

That in itself is probably unremarkable. My difficulty lies in the intensity of my reaction. One cloud of disharmony in my emotional sky seems to call the thunder. The rains come, lightning strikes. I am distraught and inconsolable.
I need to find calmness within myself. To be able to think clearly. To continue to function, but I struggle to do so.

One of the readings at a wedding I attended recently was the Apache blessing. It included a reminder that storm clouds visit all relationships, but the sun, though it may not be seen, is still there.
Perhaps I simply need to remember that.

Look, is that the sun?