My fawn (aka My cub)

Tiny bit of Back Story

When Zack and I parted in December 2014, as I drove out of the driveway in San Diego, heading for Orlando, I emotionally sealed up my heart. Surrounded it with a cement wall. I vowed to never, never fall in love again. Ever. And I was quite vocal about it, especially when people would encourage me to “find someone.” Made me a crazy woman whenever that happened.

So, thinking the wall was impenetrable, I wasn’t really paying attention when I became friends with this guy… kid, really. But we spent inordinate amounts of time together and, as we know, since this is a love story, he chiseled the holy fuck out of that cement wall, making sand of it.

My fawn

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I’ve referred to “my fawn” in a couple of other posts, so thought I should introduce him.

My fawn is an amazing man. Younger than my youngest child (who is 30). Muslim. Smarter in many areas of knowledge than I could ever hope to be. He is also my submissive.

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And he lives behind the glass of my computer. For a long list of reasons (a couple given above), we will never have a real life meeting. And there are melancholy moments about that, but for the most part, it is something we accept graciously.

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If you’ve never had a cyber-love relationship, what we are experiencing can be a challenge to understand. You might also think we are delusional that this is even a real connection, not real love, but you would be wrong and millions of others can vouch for the truth of our reality.

When we first met at the cusp of 2015 and 2016, my new friend shared some of his foibles that are common young-people experiences (some call them “mistakes”) and I told him he was but a “fawn on wobbly legs,” to not take things too seriously.

The fawn name stuck.

Outlander

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In our early moments of talking (almost the entire relationship is in text), he told me about his love of Outlander, the Diana Gabaldon books and the show (on Starz). I squealed with delight as I am a rabid Obsessenach, loving both as well. The word for “outlander” (a foreigner, someone on the outside) in Gaelic is Sassenach (technically, what a Gaelic Scot calls an English person). I’m not quite sure when it happened, but my fawn started calling me his Sassenach instead of Mistress. I fell in love with the Honorific immediately.

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Islam

As he is a practicing Muslim… and I am an atheist… the word Sassenach takes on its own meaning of outsider in our relationship. He lives in an enclave of his Middle Eastern people as a first-generation American (born in the US from parents who immigrated).

Islam in the US

As I said, my fawn is fucking brilliant. He finds world history fascinating, knowing facts about wars, politics and even the people in so many countries. I, being a typical myopic American, am pretty clueless about what’s going on beyond a headline here or there. My fawn has incredible patience when I ask him to explain to me (“Talk to me like I am a 2nd grader, please.”) what is going on in the Middle East (which now takes on new meaning because of my love’s heritage), with observations about past Presidents or even our own political climate going on right now.

But he exhibited the most patient kindness after the Pulse Massacre on June 12, 2016, when I found myself, not particularly xenophobic, really (irrationally) angry with Muslims and needed his help to clear the painful confusion. For several days in a row, he listened to me cry, express my anger and frustration with Islam and the crazy people who embraced that religion as they demolished lives around the world. I am sure I wasn’t very respectful of his beliefs, but he never left me alone while I processed. As young as he is, he really exhibited the most tender kindness when I was in so much pain.

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I still struggle with Islamophobia (am working on a piece about it right now) and he is always patient with me, answering questions, guiding me to resources, but mostly just listening to the immense confusion I feel, as an atheist, to how someone so brilliant can believe in God, especially one who seems so fucking harsh. Exploration is ongoing.

Reciprocity

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While he is well-versed in history, my specialty, of course, is birth. This poor boy is being dragged into learning about pregnancy, childbirth and breastfeeding… from the politics of midwifery to learning about Postpartum Hemorrhage and how to save a mom’s and baby’s life. He’s seen pics of women nursing babies for the first time. He’s perused my Navelgazing Midwife blog, seeing women in labor and babies being born. Nothing in his life has prepared him for the adventure I am taking him on. I’ve taught him lots that will bode him well when, InshAllah (God-willing), he has his own wife and family.

A normal off-shoot of the birth talks is the sexuality of women. He’s going to be able to satisfy women in a way he never expected to learn outside of marriage (and porn). I’ve told him trade secrets (lesbian) and things that should bloody well be common knowledge with men and women alike. I tease him that he’s going to be making love to his wife and send up a prayer of thanks to me when she orgasms for the third time that session. I love teaching such a willing student.

Our Dominant/submissive Dynamic

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My sweet fawn is a natural submissive… found comfort and acknowledgement for those intense desires he’s had his whole life when he climbed onto the Internet several years ago. When we met, all he knew of me was as a FemDom (some write Femdom), learning later about my submissive history. It was delicious Domming him; so hungry to please.

As we evolved over the months, we have explored my submissive side (which I also adamantly swore I would never ever ever ever do again), finding great joy in giving my subbie self to him, even as he was quite green in Domming. We dabbled for a few weeks, but decided no more Switching, settling into our comfortable D/s roles.

My Skittish Yearling

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When my fawn met me, he did not know me as Barb, but as a different name (I am a Sex Worker… he is NOT a client.). The need to disclose myself became overwhelming and several weeks ago, finally “came out” to him. An entire side of me appeared as if from nowhere, learning I was the Navelgazing Midwife and now, the Navelgazing Writer. While he knew I had kids, it wasn’t until I came out that he learned how old they were, their names and about my grandbabies. I was sure showing him my whole Self would send him springing back into the woods, but he stood firm, loving me even more.

Clearly, I expose intimate details of my life for public consumption in several blogs and articles. In my life with Zack and the kids, we all had the agreement that I could write about anything, at any time, without their censoring a word.

With my fawn, however, he did not enter the relationship knowing this expository part of me and is extremely private, so many details about him are purposefully left out… or even shifted… to protect his identity. He did not have full consent about falling in love with a blogger, so I would not dream of asking him to adhere to my no censorship requirement for most of my friends and family.

Even still, I could not not talk about this man I love so very much.

And now you know him, too!

Joyous (Part 4 of my First Dom Story)

Part 1, My First BDSM Experience, I fell in love with a Dom over the Internet. In Part 2, Meeting My First Dom, I flew to meet him in San Francisco, his collaring me right before we began our first Scene. Part 3, My First submissive Scene, Gerald and I begin our sexual consummation before he has an attack of morals, leaving me crying alone on the bed.

Lifting My Head

When I finally stopped crying, I logged onto the computer, not even sure what I was looking for (except Gerald, of course), but there, in the irc room I played in, was a single person… very strange as it was usually packed with people. That new person was someone I’d never seen before.

Her (nick)name was Joyous.

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I don’t think Joyous quite expected what she got, but she was a champion listening to me dump all my pain and sadness out via the keyboard. She listened as this crazy submissive, who’d gone to visit her first Dom, sight unseen, cried her eyes out and tried to figure out what to do next. She never said a judgmental word.

When I finally took a breath, I learned Joyous was a submissive, which surprised me because, in text, submissives typically use lower-case letters, Dominants, upper-case. She said she wanted any potential Dom to know she was a force to be reckoned with. I loved her already.

It was late and I still hadn’t seen Gerald in chat. Was completely lost with what was going on with us, so sat talking to Joyous, minutes turning to hours.

Gerald Logged On… Finally

Around midnight, Gerald finally pops into the room still holding just Joyous and I, his Private Messaging (PM) me, falling all over himself with apologies. I sat listening, the tears flowing all over again.

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He said he’d been trying to figure out how to work things out with me for the week and thought he’d come up with a solution. I sat listening.

He said he would come see me as planned and that he had promised to Scene with me, that he would honor that, but he wouldn’t be able to come for another day, trying to get a couple days off work without his wife knowing. (I am sure I rolled my eyes.) He said he just couldn’t have any more sexual contact. I nodded my understanding. He said he had to go, but he would call in the morning when he got to work. Then he vanished.

Joyous Revisited

I’d been talking to Joyous in the room while Gerald and I talked in PM and told her I wouldn’t see him for a couple of days… what was I going to do in San Francisco by myself? She said, “You’re in San Francisco? That’s where I am!” She then told me she was actually on vacation for two weeks and would love to take me out to see “her” city. I couldn’t believe the luck.

The next morning, at 8:00 am on the dot, Joyous knocked at the door and when I opened it, she and I hugged like we’d known each other for years and were just reunited. Still wearing the collar Gerald had locked on me, I was a tad worried about going out with it. She laughed and said no one would even notice, grabbed my hand and out the door we went.

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Two subbies Traipsing

We walked arm and arm, up and down those brutal San Francisco hills, wandering in and out of stores, eating in delightful restaurants and talking talking talking, telling each other secrets and stories from our respective lives.

She took me to Mr. S Leather where we giggled with the salesboys, trying on various pieces of leather gear, paddling each other with wooden implements and holding up various toys, fantasizing about what we would do with this or that.

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Mr. S Leather

We went to Romantasy, an exquisite corset shop. Talking to the sales folks, I learned they custom make corsets for people of any size. (I was fat, remember… not used to owning something as beautiful as a corset.) I bought a lovely black crinoline skirt that day, ordered a white one several months later. When we left, I took their card and tucked it into my pocket. I have it even today.

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Romantasy Corsets

The highlight of the day was our visit to Good Vibrations. This (at the time) woman-owned and operated store, still open today (where I buy the majority of my toys), was unique back then. Quality toys, expensive as hell, but worth every cent, lined their walls and shelves. It is where I bought my first Hitachi Magic Wand. I know we easily spent 3 hours there.

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Hitachi Magic Wand, Good Vibrations

The Setting Sun

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Joyous and I went to dinner on the Wharf as the sun was sliding into the Pacific Ocean, having a couple of bottles of wonderful wine, toasting our new friendship and amazing luck at finding each other.

As we ate, I talked out a plan to emotionally make it through the rest of the week. I was already mentally releasing myself from my servitude; that helped. Joyous offered scenarios and I played them out to see if they were workable. By the time it was dark and dinner was over, I felt sure-footed and ready to face Gerald in the morning.

Joyous took me back to the hotel, walked me up to the room and hugged me tightly before saying her good-bye. We said we would talk tomorrow, hugged again and she was gone.

I never saw her again.

I am of the belief she was an Angel who came to help me that day. We never exchanged real names, phone numbers or emails. I am baffled why we didn’t. Even now, the day with her remains one of my fondest memories in life. It was through her, I was able to stand tall facing Gerald the next day.

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My First submissive Scene

Part 1, My First BDSM Experience, I fell in love with a Dom over the Internet. In Part 2, Meeting My First Dom, I flew to meet him in San Francisco, his collaring me right before we began our first Scene.

Unfolding

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Gerald had collared me and I swayed waiting for my instructions. He went and sat in the big desk chair and called me over. I crawled and sat quietly on my knees at his feet. He patted his lap and I lifted up and laid my head on the crotch of his jeans. I inhaled deeply, finally being where I’d dreamt for so long. I wanted inside that material.

I looked up, into his eyes, and asked if I might pleasure him. He nodded slightly; I began unbuttoning, then unzipping, his jeans. He lifted up so I could pull them off, grabbed his boxers while I was at it. Then he stood in front of me. My breath quickened as he took his shirt off. There was my Master, the man I loved so intensely, naked in front of me.

Fuck he was gorgeous. He wasn’t a classic American beauty… slightly paunchy, very brown, not the most well-endowed… but I saw him through the veil of love and desire. I ached to Serve him.

And I did.

Oral Servitude

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My hand reached up and held his cock as I lifted higher onto my knees. I know I moaned as my lips enveloped his dick that first time. My mouth… my lesbian mouth… easily remembered the proper movements to pleasure a man. My tongue swirled, my lips pursed, my mouth expanded and contracted, nudging him towards what I ached to consume.

I felt him put his hand gently on my head and I swayed with desire, feeling him pushing into my mouth. “Use me! Use me!” was what was coursing through my mind as I pulled him ever deeper inside me.

Then he softly pushed me back. I was confused and looked up into his eyes. He smiled and said we should get onto the bed. Oh. my. god. We were going to fuck. He’d said he wasn’t sure if we would or not, but now we were. I am sure I floated to the bed.

As Above, So below

I waited for his instructions. He laid down on his back and I honed in on his cock again, picking up where I’d left off. It was incredible Serving my Master this way. I had craved it for so many months. Too soon, he nudged me to move, onto my back.

I breathed so heavily. Hungry.

As he took his cock in his hand and the head tickled my labia, I held my breath.

He stopped moving.

Then lifted off of me and laid beside me.

And started crying.

Almost inaudibly spilling words about his close call with infidelity, saying, “How could I even consider cheating on my wife? What was I thinking?”

I laid there, naked, exposed… and quickly filling with shame.

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I grabbed the sheet and covered myself as he got off the bed, dressed and left, apologizing about a hundred times. I said nothing.

When he’d walked out the door, I buried my sobbing face into the pillow.

I didn’t stop crying for several hours.

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Next: Unraveling the Ropes