From one who has been, and mostly still is, a slut, it might seem strange to hear me write of my feeling jealousy. But I have. And the consequence, given the state of my psyche, as a D.I.D. sufferer, was almost disastrous.

It started about a week ago when Ayana, my girlfriend, was overseas, in London. As you know we have an open relationship so when we are apart we are free to have sex with other women if we choose. It makes sense considering Ayana’s and my white-hot sex drives but we are in love and reserve the time we are together for ourselves. We don’t include others at those times.

But where is the line regarding ex-lovers?

When in London, Ayana met with an ex-lover for dinner and they spent the night together, fucking. In fact they spent two nights fucking during that trip. Since then Ayana has assured me that it was purely a physical encounter, despite their history, and that she saw it as just another chance to enjoy some sex while away from me. She assures me that it does not signal the rekindling of their relationship. It was only sex. I am doing my best to accept it now and despite reservations, I must trust the one I love.

A problem is though that when I heard from her that night, while she was far away in London, and that the woman was her ex, well the stress of it triggered a reaction from two of my alters, the ones who can cause me harm.

My Mistress identity rose up and became angry and vengeful. I dressed provocatively and went to the BDSM club I’d visited before meeting Ayana and once there, my little girl identity subsumed the Mistress and I became the thoroughly compliant submissive little nina.

Under certain stresses an identity can take me over completely and I have no control over her actions. After a time I am able to wrest control back but it doesn’t happen quickly sometimes.

The result was that I was stripped bare in the open play area of the club, suspended in the sling, and used as a toy for several hours. The dominants, mostly men, slapped me, fucked me in every exposed hole, then took me down into the dungeon and flogged and electrified me.

It is an intensely painful experience but when I am the ‘little girl’ alter, I crave the punishment and the pain. In that state I feel I deserve to be hurt and submit to anything the Mistresses and Masters choose to do.

When the hour was late and the women and men had had their fun with me, I was left on the floor, in a corner, cut and bruised and filthy. As my ‘little girl’ identity began to lose strength and my more rational identity slowly regained dominance, I stayed on the floor until I had the strength to stand, I went to the shower to get clean, then I dressed and called my driver to pick me up.

It’s alright, really, it’s ok. The pain goes, I’m used to it. A long, hot bath, a little disinfectant on the cuts and some balm for the bruises, and I’m more or less fine.

The real pain was to come. As half of a couple I had a duty to my girlfriend to tell her what had happened. What I feared though was her anger at my letting myself be used by men when I had promised to avoid men. It’s not just cheating because, as I said our relationship is open, but we are a gay couple, men are not a part of my sexual life anymore, not by decree but by choice. Apart from the odd ‘twinge’ I no longer desire men at all in any sexual way. I am content with women, especially with my Ayana.

Once Ayana had arrived back from her trip this last Friday and after I greeted her at the door and took her bag, the first thing she asked me after we kissed was why I was wearing a robe. As you may recall, we don’t dress while in the house. My home is a naked domain, somewhere to feel free, so it struck her as unusual. I asked her to relax, take a bath, and I would sit down with her when she had settled after her long trip. She protested a little but she was tired so she went up to bathe.

I was sitting on the sofa, some time later, still in my robe, when I saw her appear at the top of the stairs, naked, so dark and so beautiful. My face grew suddenly hot and tears sprang into my eyes. Then I was crying, not those little, sniffy, sobs but fully crying, the kind that grabs at your chest and actually make your body ache. At that moment I felt all my love for Ayana and I felt all the fear that she might leave me and never come back.

Ayana almost ran down the stairs, sat beside me and held me to her. I was shaking with the pain of it and she rocked me like a baby. I tried to say something but no words would come. I could only make those strangled little sounds like those you make when you’re small and you’re caught doing something wrong, and your father thrashes you until you fall down.

We sat there for long minutes, my crying making a mess of A’s just-bathed chest and her belly. She took tissues and wiped my eyes and my nose. I must have looked dreadful, face red and filthy from tears and mess from my nose.

When I’d calmed enough to slow to sobs Ayana looked into my eyes and asked me what was wrong. I untied the soft belt of my robe and stood in front of her, and dropped the robe. She was used to the scars I have from my days with Mistress but she was saddened to see the fresh cuts, bruises and grazes over my body.

Then I sat, a little apart from her, and told her the whole story of my night at the BDSM club, everything I could remember. Memory blackouts are a part of my D.I.D.

She listened to all of what I told her, then she stayed silent. She wouldn’t look at me, at my face, into my eyes. She stood and almost whispered, “Excuse me, Nina.” and walked up the stairs.

I collapsed in tears onto the sofa again and cried that silent sort of cry you do when you feel your heart will break.

****

Perhaps it was an hour, maybe two or three hours, I don’t know, I had fallen into a kind of trance, a sort of mindless, staring void of no emotion. Nothing moved in my mind, no thought stirred. I was lying on the sofa, staring straight ahead of me, at nothing. Despite the heating in the house I was cold, shivering, a kind of shock I suppose. Fawn came and went but all I registered was a brief sound and a shadow of indistinct movement.

Later, Ayana told me she had sat, for maybe ten minutes, in an armchair, just looking at me lying there. She had made her choice and looking at me, her heart was tearing at itself.

When she touched me I jumped, jerked like you do when you suddenly wake from a horrifying dream. Then she laid the robe, fallen on the floor, over me. Then she spoke.

It seemed to her that I didn’t hear and I just continued to stare straight ahead and to shiver, and to dribble a little, as you sometimes do when you’re deep in sleep. She stroked me but i flinched at the touch and still stared without otherwise moving.

She called Fawn who brought her the number of my therapist. It was well into Friday evening but my therapist answered quickly and she was on her way in minutes. She’d been at a dinner but when Ayana described my state to her, she simply left to come to me.

After she’d arrived and examined me she spoke to Ayana. She was cautious at first but when A informed her that she was aware of my D.I.D. and my history, she relaxed and asked what circumstances had led to this state of mine. A told her.

Both my therapist and Ayana tried speaking to me but when there was no response, the therapist suggested an injection of a kind of anti-psychotic medication that would, hopefully, break the trance, and make me sleep properly. She would, with A’s permission stay overnight to keep an eye on me.

They somehow got me to my bed and Fawn put clean sheets and blankets on a bed in one of the guest rooms, for my therapist. Happily, Anca was away and witnessed none of this.

****

In the morning, I awoke feeling exhausted and in some pain. Ayana was beside me on the bed, sitting up, reading, and my therapist was sitting in a chair by my side of the bed.

The therapist stood and assured me everything was alright but she wanted to examine me. She checked my eyes and a few other things, as well as a cursory physical examination of my cuts, bruises, etc, and my cunt and arse. She declared me physically fit, for the most part, then she sat to talk. She asked if I would prefer Ayana to leave but I said no, I wanted her to stay.

I won’t bore you with everything that was said by all of us but it took a while and it was very frank.

What transpired was this; my therapist said that my catatonic state was the result of a psychotic episode precipitated by the trauma of my fear of losing Ayana. Ayana spoke about her fears for me and how my D.I.D. might effect our relationship in the future if it was not managed. I apologized and was assured by Ayana and by my therapist that they both understood that my actions were not something my rational self had initiated or engaged in. I stressed to my therapist that guilt was something new to me and the burden was heavy and painful.

Under the supervision of my therapist, Ayana and I talked about my D.I.D. Ayana assured me of her love for me but wants me to do whatever is possible to minimize the grosser effects of my illness. She said that being away so often, she would worry if I were not in therapy. I assured her I would begin regular sessions with my therapist right away. And Ayana assured me that her relationship with her ex, which precipitated this extreme reaction of mine, was indeed over and that their recent dalliance was purely physical, however, in view of its effect on me, she would not have any more contact with her. She then went even further.

After summoning Fawn to my bedroom, and with my therapist present, Ayana went to her bag and brought out a small box. When I opened the box and saw the ring inside, Ayana asked me if, despite actual marriage between women being illegal in my country, I would consider thinking of us as engaged.  Of course I asked her to slip the ring on my finger and with that small action, we became officially (in our hearts, if not in law) a couple destined to marry some day.

Our physical relationship will still be open, it’s who we are, but now I am a bride-to-be, something I never imagined.

And now, to our future, and to my ever more serious therapy.

For the first time in my life I feel some security. I will not take any of it for granted though, life is unpredictable.