Navigating life-decisions with multiple partners
In my Master’s bed, postcoital. I was trailing my fingernails down His back while he stared through the open window. Snatches of birdsong drifted in, mingled with the sounds of sirens and the voices of junkies brawling downstairs. This is where I want to be, but I don’t blame him for feeling differently. “Imagine looking out of the window, and seeing nothing but sky and mountains. “ he mused, not for the first time. “Imagine owning a property far out in the desert, where we could all live together and host our events. Wouldn’t that be amazing”?
“My husband and kids would not want me to move to the desert with You,” I replied, also not for the first time. “They’d be moving with us, slave,” he retorted, surprising me. This actually was a first. “And they would fucking love it.”
Joshua, my Master, is a well-known pro-Dom and lifestyle educator. He currently resides on one of t he seediest blocks in Harlem, but that just makes his dream, of opening a rustic kink retreat & residence in the wilderness, shine even brighter. He used to speak only of himself and his nesting partner launching this project, but of late his vision expanded to encompass all of us, his entire leather family: said nesting partner, two submissives and their kids, one other slave with her child, myself -- and, as of the last paragraph, my husband and kids as well.
My husband, David, does not see himself as a member of Joshua's leather family, or of the leather lifestyle overall. He never opted for it. He was dragged into it against his will, when, four years ago, I fell in love with a kinky stranger that I was reporting on, and ended up having an affair with him. For our kids' sakes, David reluctantly agreed to overlook my transgressions. He went as far as to allow me my "something on the side" with Master Joshua, provided I could keep my priorities straight and always put family first.
This arrangement worked surprisingly well. Grateful for the opportunity to own me as an honest man, my Master has geared much of our power dynamic towards shaping me into a better wife and mother. My husband, in turn, found that having a libidinous sex slave for a wife does have its perks. And I, who've been permitted the best of all worlds, did my best to shine in all of them. Nobody let go, and over the years we learned to operate together almost symbiotically; not an entanglement anymore, but a polycule. And now, after all that work, Joshua wants to leave.
"I love You, I don't want to live without You. I'll follow You to the end of the world and back," I texted him later that night, after putting the kids to bed. "What about your family"? he asked. "Like You said, we could move together. I will find a way," I promised.
My neighborhood is in far better shape than my Master's, but Covid has downgraded it too. This conversation took place at the beginning of the school year; having to lead my kids through litter-strewn streets and reeking subway platforms, to a school they said they hated, convinced me that moving was indeed in their best interest. But just as I cautiously broached the topic with David (while leaving my Master's plans out of it, of course) their feelings began to change. Last year they were new to this school, and the post-Covid transition was hard, but things were getting better now, they were finally acclimating. Observing their growing excitement over newfound friends and hopes for the future, my resolve wavered. Perhaps it would be better to wait?
"Just a couple of years, till they finish elementary," I pleaded.
"I can't put my life on hold for that long," Joshua replied, exasperated. “ I hoped it would be all of us together, but… it has to happen soon. Within the next few months. I would really love for you to come with us, and stay with us, and be a part of this.” he looked sad. he is a beautiful man, my Master, sadness looks good on him. he was holding me close, speaking softly, and in the moment the pheromones rolling off his bare chest were enough to wash my doubts away. “Then my family and I will join You all whenever we can, and I’ll do my best to make it quick,” I stated.
It was only later, on the subway ride home, that the magnitude of my potential loss hit me. It was not just my beloved Master who may be departing: “all of us together,” he had said. ALL of my friends, confidants, metamours and play partners, the people whose stories populated my life for the past four years. All of them may be going far away, to start a new life together with my Master -- together, without me.
The notion of losing my Master had filled me with sadness. The notion of losing EVERYONE filled me with rage. This was not how it was supposed to be. I was like David, in the beginning: my interest lay in Joshua, and the other relationships that came with him were just -- well, baggage. An aspect of his life to be avoided if possible, tolerated if not. It was only under my Master's patient tutelage, wishing to accommodate him, that I learned to view his others as my community, rather than my rivals. And then, as we attended kink events together, and played with each other's bodies, openly sharing experiences and our feelings about them -- how could we not become so much closer? We came to care about each other. We helped each other out, we celebrated life events together. We were more than a polycule, to me: we were family, a leather family. But I guess we were Joshua’s family, not mine. And now, with a snap of His pretty fingers -- poof! It will all go away.
“I wish you a happy life together,” I texted my best friend -- Joshua’s submissive -- as I made my way home from the subway, “I never want to see either of you again.” That’s what I wrote, but I didn’t send it. Just two days ago she woke up early on a weekend, sacrificing her only day off, to help me set up my child’s birthday party in the park. She’s a good friend. None of this was her fault: I couldn’t blame her for wanting to be happy.
Compartilization plays a key role in my family life. David gave me freedom; it would be unfair to subject him to the 24/7 emotional barrage my lifestyle entailed in return. This is a rule I try to live by, but this time David could see it on my face as I walked in. "What's wrong?" he asked,
"I think they are leaving New York soon," I sniffled.
"Who?"
"Joshua. Everyone," I burst into tears.
"Oh," said David, trying - and failing - to suppress the wild glint of joy in his eyes. "Are they moving very far away"?
This time he didn't even try to disguise the hope in his voice. It was funny; I laughed.
"I'm sorry. I know how important they are to you," he said then, folding me in his arms. "But I'm here. The kids are here. We will make sure you are ok."
Two months have past since the first paragraph. My Master's plans have changed since then -- now it looks as if he might be staying within state lines, for now at least, and maybe only a partial cast would be moving with him. I don't really know: I stopped asking, and he stopped telling. Meanwhile, until the other shoe drops, I show up in his Harlem studio twice a week as usual, determined to enjoy whatever time we have, in whatever space. I lay beside Him, stroking the ridges of his rib cage as he sleeps. "These are my mountains," I think, silently. "When You open your eyes, those are my skies."