It has always been my belief that anything which generates a lot of energy can be harnassed into something beneficial, no matter how threatening and potentially dangerous it seems. And, the more energy, the more potential for creativity.
This has tremendous, potential advantages for you, as my lover, you realize.
I have a tremendous capacity to feel. And I have an inate talent at empathy. I directly experience what others feel. I, therefore, work very hard at not inflicting pain. I also work very hard at nurturing.
As you've experienced first hand, I'm good at finding people's hidden talents and encouraging them to the surface. It's how I know you're beautiful, even when you don't, and enhance your beauty with little grooming tricks that delight you.
Well, the real energy of my PTSD is my passion. I have suppressed that. I've seen the consequenses of my rage and terror in my life, and have tried very hard to avoid those.
What I need to do is face that energy, head on, and convert it to positive uses.
As you may have noticed, I'm a very sexual, and sexually-accepting, person. I have a tremendous capacity for exploring pleasure and arousal. I have few inhibitions or taboos. If it's consentual, and between responsible adults, it's on the table (grin).
I have gone from pre-orgasmic, through orgasmic only under the influence of mind-altering substances to multiorgasmic and easily aroused, under safe circumstances.
And I have a vivid imagination.
Channeling the energy I automatically produce (be it a byproduct of overactive adrenaline production, or whatever) into more creative outlets needs to be a high priority for me.
It's why I'm always building things, moving earth for gardens, walking long distances while pulling burdens, etc.
I need to be physically active, to release the energy.
You have, shall we say, certain needs in that regard.
I have been suppressing my impulses toward psychotic outbursts. It's very stressful for me to do so. I'd much rather use the desire toward physical acting out on another person in a more satisfying and loving way.
Hence, the "butch lessons." I need to be more assertive and more blatant around you. You excite me. I crave you. I have a tremendous urge to satisfy you, to watch you surrender to feeling me loving you, to seeing you open up to me.
You need to be very well and thoroughly loved: emotionally, intellectually, spiritually and physically.
I can give you that. I can give you as much as you're willing to take. I am completely convinced that I can bring you to places you never knew you needed and teach you beautiful things about yourself you've never even imagined.
I get very enthusiastic about loving you, when I see myself not holding back and not protecting my ego.
Butches, in general, put the needs of their ladies first. I'm not talking about self sacrifice; I'm speaking of etiquette, perhaps even a smattering of chiviry. It is the sacred duty of the butch to protect, nurture, satisfy and adore their women.
Butches always know when their women need a cigarette lit, a jar opened, a loving shoulder, protection from harm and a righteously wet fucking.
It's not that butches think their women aren't completely independent, self-sufficient, capable people. Oh, no. Not any of that.
A good butch finds a good woman who has complete autonomy, who has life experience, who knows herself. And a good butch empathizes with the struggles, trials and hardships her woman has endured to get there.
So, a good butch honors her woman by relieving some of that extra burden.
If her woman is treated like trash in every other aspect of her life, a butch elevates her woman to the status of great adoration and respect.
A good butch creates a place in which her woman is above the petty dirtiness of mundane life.
A good butch creates sacred space for her woman and herself.
A good butch worships at the alter of the Goddess as embodied in her companion.
I have tremendous reserves of energy for you.
I'm learning what satisfies you and am learning new ways to get there.
This isn't just sexual, you know.
But your sexuality has been badly neglected by other lovers to the point where I don't think you really know what you want, what you need, and how much you can feel.
I want to find out, Princess.
I can't leave it up to you. As you've said, if you're uncomfortable in a new situation, your tendancy is to avoid it. And anything new, especially making love with another woman, is uncomfortable, at first.
It gets a WHOLE lot easier with practice, so you'll know.
So, I'm taking the lead. I'm taking the initiative. I'm going to be more insistant that you at least look at yourself as a sexual person. I'm going to be asking you what you want more often. I'm going to be initiating play more often, and in more variety.
I'm completely willing that you refuse when you need to.
But I'm not willing to sit here and wait for you to make the decision to initiate play. If I do that, we'll be twiddling our thumbs for a very long time.
You know now that I won't exploit nor hurt you sexually. At least, I hope you know that by now. We've spent months, after the initial passion, cuddling harmlessly.
But, Princess, I have some succulent and sparkling ideas about what I want to do to you, if you're willing.
I think it's best, at first, that you experience woman loving with me being the assertive one. It'll give you a first hand experience at how truly delightful woman loving is. It's very liberating. The possibilities are amazing.
Once you're more familiar, less inhibited, and more eager about the whole concept, I'm willing to bet you'll be initiating a good deal of play between us.
So, there's definately an "up" side to having a lover with PTSD: I'm fiercely protective; I've got eyes in the back of my head; I'm resourceful; I'm stubborn; I'm assertive; I'm compassionate; I'm brave and I'm VERY passionate.
You need that. I can give it to you.
My reward is your gentleness, your humor, your obvious loyalty, your wickedness, your playfulness and how sexy you are.
My reward is that the most interesting person I've connected with in a long time looks forward to coming home to me.
