Bleearrrgggh

It Works!

2011-09-27T10:09:00.000-05:00

The flogging-for-fibro (that should totally be a fundraising event) is a success! I've met with Patience twice for flogging sessions, and she reports that they have made a notable difference in her muscle tension, for a little while afterward, anyway. Not surprisingly, the energy in these scenes is significantly different from the average scene. We do a pretty quick warm-up and then head straight for the heavy thumpers. She lets me know where to focus—usually her shoulders—and we chat while I work.

I'm becoming increasingly frustrated with my rose flogger due to the length of the tails. It's a terrific thumper, but the tails are a good 24" long, which makes them awkward to swing and difficult to control. Accurate, consistent aim is impossible; inevitably some of the tails will fly off in the wrong direction. When I first bought it a few years ago, I thought it was my inexperience that was the problem, but now I realize it's a design flaw. I'm going to take a look at how it's constructed to figure out if I can shorten the tails, but if not, I'll have to see about buying a new one at the next Flea.

BDSM is Not Therapy – Except When It Is

2011-08-09T15:35:00.000-05:00

I was at a friend's housewarming party last night, sitting next to someone I'd just met, whom I'll call Patience. She began having a problem with her hands—an involuntary tic—and chastised them for being bad. I made some lame, sympathetic joke about hands not doing what they're supposed to. "I need to find somebody to do flogging with," she said.

I cocked my head and considered what seemed a bit of a non sequitor. "Are you looking to be on the top or the bottom?" I asked. I thought that perhaps the exercise or repetitive motion of using a flogger would calm her hands.

"I want to be flogged." I looked more confused. "Oh, I guess you missed my story in the kitchen about my medication issues." I had. Patience explained that she has fibromyalgia, and the medicine she'd been using for the last few years was no longer effective. She tried a different medication, but it doesn't work as well, so she's been exploring alternative therapies. One alternative she found, through friends in the kinky community, is flogging. "So now I need to find someone who's good at flogging, but I'm nervous about it—there are so many creepy guys out there."

"Well," I said, "I do some flogging…."

"What, really? That's great!"

In short, Patience was very happy to have so easily found someone to explore flogging with her, and I'm really excited to explore BDSM as physical therapy. I'm also really interested to find out how the energy of a scene changes when sex isn't involved, although I suppose the goal of achieving a specific physical sensation remains the same. As Patience wrote me over IM, "We're doing Science! to my nervous system."

Conditioning Hemp Rope

2011-02-19T22:31:00.002-05:00

I've bought my first hemp rope. It's been all nylon up until now, because it's cheap and soft and because the colors are beautifully vibrant. But nylon's eternal problem is that it slips. Every knot and every tie eventually starts to work loose. A couple months ago, I had a small epiphany: I'm tired of my knots slipping, and I'm no longer too poor to pay for a little hemp. I decided to buy some at the Fetish Fair Fleamarket, which was in Providence the weekend of the 12th. I was hoping that Twisted Monk would be there, since he sells the softest rope available, but they didn't show this year. Instead, I went to the booth where I've bought all my nylon rope, Rainbow Rope. They were selling 20-foot lengths of pre-conditioned hemp for about $20 each or unfinished hemp from a spool for 50 cents a foot. I wanted longer lengths for some of the elaborate ties in the Two Knotty Boys book I recently bought. Their ties are beautiful, but many require about 50 feet of rope. I bought two 50-foot lengths of unfinished hemp and brought it home to look up instructions on how to condition it.

Several sites say to start by boiling the rope for several hours or overnight. I opted to use the washing machine instead, basing my process off of instructions here and here. The most annoying—that is, labor- and time-intensive—part of the process is physically breaking down the fibers to make the rope soft and pliable instead of scratchy and stiff. Fortunately, that part is also terribly easy to do sitting down while watching movies, which I've been doing this afternoon anyway. My finished rope isn't as soft as Monk's, but I think this process provides a very nice result without requiring undue amounts of time, energy, or expertise. Here's what I did, step-by-step:

Wednesday

Tape the ends of the rope to prevent them from unraveling. Rainbow Rope taped them for me when I purchased it.
Tie each rope into a daisy chain—tie a slip knot in one end, leaving a small loop. Then, reach through the loop and pull through part of the long end of the rope, enough to make a new loop. Pull another loop of rope through that one, and so on, until you come to the other end. Pull the end completely through the last loop and tighten it. Except for that last one, don't make the loops tight around each other; the rope will swell when it's wet, and you don't want it to be too tight to undo.
Put the daisy chains into the washing machine. I set it to the hottest wash cycle, heavy soiling, and a medium-sized load, and added just a small amount of laundry soap. When I removed the rope from this first wash, the few drops of water remaining at the bottom were dark brown, giving some indication of how much dirt had been washed out of the rope.
Leaving the rope daisy-chained, put it in the dryer on medium or low heat until it's fairly dry. The braiding slows down the drying process considerably, but the rope doesn't have to be completely dry before it's removed from the dryer.
Wrap the rope tightly around something sturdy, like the foot of your bed, stretching it out as much as possible, and tie it off. Leave it overnight. If, like me, you are used to working with nylon, you will be immediately impressed by its grip and the security of your knots.

Thursday

Take the rope off the stretcher and pass it through an open flame, such as a gas stove. This will burn off the scratchy bits of fuzz sticking out from the rope. This is the step that made me the most nervous, but numerous sites reassured me that it's actually fairly difficult to set the rope on fire, and in fact my rope barely discolored as it passed through the flame. It also acquired an undesirable smokey smell, like a campfire.
Daisy-chain the rope again and repeat the wash-dry cycle. This removed the smokey smell and more dirt. When I washed the rope for the second time, the water drops left in the bottom of the washer at the end of the cycle were barely discolored.
Repeat the overnight stretching.

Friday

Pour some mineral oil or jojoba oil onto a rag, scrap of cloth, or folded-up pad of cheesecloth. Fold it around the rope and pull the rope through to give it a light coating of oil. Add more oil to the cloth as you go, but don't saturate it. Using mineral or jojoba oil is important because they won't go rancid or irritate the skin. Mineral oil is commonly sold as baby oil, but you can purchase unscented mineral oil from home goods stores, as it's used to maintain wooden cutting boards. I bought some from Bed, Bath & Beyond for about $7.

At this point, the rope wasn't scratchy anymore, but it was still pretty stiff. Softening it up is a matter of beating up the fibers, essentially distressing the rope as if it had been used regularly for some time. Incidentally, this also weakens the rope somewhat, but since I don't use do suspension, that wasn't of concern to me. Considering that just about everyone who does do suspension bondage uses hemp, the conditioning process obviously doesn't weaken the fibers overly much.

Saturday

Whip and trim the rope ends. This is optional; you could leave the tape on or tie knots in the ends to prevent the rope from unraveling, but the tape is unattractive and the knots are likely to get in the way while you're tying. Whipping with a thin cord or string makes the ends attractive and unobtrusive. Fortunately, because I do some exposed-spine bookbinding, I had a selection of colored, waxed linen cord on hand. I used purple cord and tied it with sailmaker's whipping, which is the most secure style. As far as I can tell, this is the same as the "French Palm and Needle" technique used by Twisted Monk. Instructions for whipping the ends of braided rope in this manner are slightly different and can be found here.
Begin to distress the rope by putting it under tension while bending it sharply. For each length, I passed one end under my coffee table and back over the top, braced my feet against the table to hold the rope tight, and pulled it back and forth across the edge. This made quite a difference, but since I had no other plans than to continue watching Love Is the Devil, I decided to keep working on it.
The rope felt like it had absorbed all the oil I applied Friday, so I decided to oil it again as I continued softening it. I looped it back and forth between eyelets on my stretcher bars until there was sufficient tension to hold it tight. I rested my feet on the stretcher bar to hold it down and pulled the rope through the eyelets and another piece of oiled cheesecloth.

That's it! The rope is coiled up now, waiting for me to use it. It's lost all its stiffness but isn't very soft yet. I think it will be better once it finishes absorbing this second coat of oil, but what it really needs is use. If I had more money and less patience, I would pay the extra money for Monk's rope. If I had more time I wanted to devote to the project, I would continue distressing the rope and look up more advanced techniques for softening it up. As I have none of these things, I'll just start tying harnesses on myself to see how this new rope feels.

EDITED TO ADD:Here are photos of my first tie. I did a basic chest harness on myself. Being a big girl, and putting in a lot of wraps, I managed to use up an entire 50-foot length of rope with just enough room to tie it off. Here are photos Lachaise took of me in the harness:

Result: comfortable at first, although not as soft as the nylon. It's starting to feel scratchy now, after it's been on for about 20 minutes. Also, I'll have to adjust the tightness of my ties. I'm in the habit of tying very tightly to compensate for the slippage of the nylon rope. The hemp rope doesn't require such heavy-handedness and tying it so tightly gets uncomfortable quickly. The rope has so much more friction and bite than I'm used to, I'll have to get used to tying it with a lighter touch.

Bondage for Men

2011-02-16T20:51:00.000-05:00

If anyone knows of a website or book that gives instructions for bondage ties specific to men - especially chest and crotch harnesses - please let me know! I attended a class called "Tying Up Men" at the latest Fetish Fair Fleamarket, but I couldn't really see what the presenter was doing. He tied a really nice chest harness, but I can't remember quite how he did it. I'm so tired of every bondage instructional saying, "Here's a chest harness!" and pretending it'll work just as well on men as it does on the woman they show being tied up. No, it fucking won't! Chest harnesses for women emphasize the boobs. They don't look good on men! Let's not even get into crotch harnesses! *grumph*

I Am the Evil Twin

2011-02-15T14:52:00.000-05:00

I have a new friend!

A couple months ago, a new girl started attending the kinky book club I host. She looks rather similar to me - long brown hair, about my height and size - and we immediately hit it off. And here's the kicker: we share the same first name. I'll leave it up to the armchair psychiatrists to analyze the mutual attraction of two similar-looking girls with the same name, but clearly neither of us is lacking for self-esteem.

When she mentioned at our last meeting that she'd like to be flogged, I volunteered for the job. Lachaise went on a long business trip a couple weeks later, and I invited my new friend over for a play party. At the party, a conversation arose about evil twins. Because I'm the more toppy and sadistic one, I was deemed the Evil Twin, and my new friend the Good Twin.

Before I could have fun with Good Twin, though, I had to fulfill another obligation. I'd already promised my old friend Miss Jack and her new boytoy a flogging. Miss Jack was recently uncollared, and this was the first time in about three years that we'd been able to play together. I've missed her so much! We used to play together all the time, and we were (briefly) the hot young things in the scene. We'd go to a play party and pick out a boy to play with, then we'd play good-top bad-top. *sigh* The good old days.

Anyway, Miss Jack's new boy, whom we'll call Eager, is very new to active BDSM and had never been flogged before. He's not into heavy pain, so I promised to be gentle with him. I had him kneel on a padded chair and positioned Miss Jack standing facing him. Then I bound all four of their wrists (quadruple-column tie!) and clipped their collars together.

For Eager, I started out using a furry rainbow flogger that my best friend gave me last year. It's my gentlest, and I love using it boys because it seems slightly demeaning to be beaten with fuzzy rainbows. (New Halloween costume idea: Rainbow Bright Dominatrix!) I started Miss Jack out with my suede flogger, which is still my favorite and most versatile.

After a warmup, I moved Eager up to the suede and Miss Jack up to the bullhide. Eventually, I worked up to the point where I was thumping Eager pretty good and he was all wriggly. Miss Jack was getting some good hits with my dragontail (Mr. Meany). He didn't leave any marks, though. When he was new and stiff, Mr. Meany used to be able to leave a red mark the shape of his tip if you swung him right, but now he's too soft and broken-in; I can't seem to mark with him anymore. I'll keep trying, though!

For the cool-down, I stood to the side, facing both of them, with the rainbow flogger in one hand and the suede in the other and flogged both of them at once. Sadly, they eventually worked their way out of my wrist tie. My nylon rope is very colorful and pretty, but slips like hell. I can never get a tie to stay tight for very long. I've just recently invested in some hemp rope, which I'm midway through conditioning, to solve that problem.

Anyway, by the time our scene ended, it was pretty late, and most people left shortly afterwards, but Good Twin, Eager, and Miss Jack stayed. To my surprise, Good Twin was still up for a scene. After I rested up a bit, I put her kneeling on our couch, facing the back, and started in with the suede flogger. She was a little tricky - she's not a very verbal or obviously responsive bottom. Luckily, I've been with Lachaise for four years now, so that doesn't bother me as much as it used to.

She had mentioned earlier in the evening that she really liked heavy thumpy sensation and deep tissue massage, information that I put to good use. I worked her up pretty quickly, and when I finally paused and leaned in to ask if she was doing okay, she attack-kissed me! I skipped the question.

I worked her up a little more and then started in with my rose flogger, which (I may have mentioned before) feels like getting punched in the back. I love it, but it can be intense. By the end of our scene, I was hitting Good Twin quite hard. I can't remember exactly how the scene ended, or how I knew it was time to stop. You just know, y'know? I'm pretty sure I gave her a couple really vicious hits, since that's how I usually wrap things up. Afterwards, she was very, very cuddly. She and I snuggled under the couch and Miss Jack and Eager were snuggling in one of our recliners.

Good Twin was still really turned on - I was gently playing with her nipples as we snuggled - but her activities were limited because she was menstruating. Unable, apparently, to contain herself, she abruptly slid to the floor on her knees and placed herself between mine. She licked my clit just the way I like it, the same way Lachaise does, and at my instruction, fingered my cunt at the same time. I came three times before I let her stop.

Then we snuggled some more and watched Miss Jack play with Eager's cock. She was showing it off for us - it's really thick and has a serious downward curve, almost 90 degrees. We all talked about how it was perfectly formed for deep-throating, and Good Twin revealed that she loves sucking cock. I kept that in mind for later.

Miss Jack is very possessive of Eager, so Good Twin wasn't allowed to suck him off, but Miss Jack dry-humped him until she came twice. Eager tried to get off, but he's never had people watching him before, and it made him too nervous to come.He kept trying, though. He had no luck on the recliner or the couch. He though he might do better on a bed, so we retired to the bedroom, Miss Jack and Eager took the bed, and I sat in a corner with Good Twin in my lap.

It was chilly, so we had a blanket over us. Underneath it, I was still tweaking her nipples, and I noticed that she was surreptitiously reaching down into her pants as we watch Miss Jack and Eager making out and furiously dry-humping on the bed.I bent my head down next to her ear and started talking dirty to her while she fingered herself through her panties.

"You're such a cock-slut, you want to suck that big thick cock down your throat, don't you?" She whimpered a little and whispered, "Yes."

"I want to push your head down onto that big fat cock until you choke on it. I want to watch him fuck your face until tears stream down your cheeks.

"I want to see that dick filling your throat til you can't breathe. I'm gonna push your head down on it while I fuck your cunt and finger your clit 'til you come choking on that cock.

"You want that don't you, to choke on his cock, you fucking slut? You're such a fucking cock-whore, I bet you drip just thinking about swallowing down a long, thick cock.

"I want to make you come on my fingers while that fat fucking cock pumps jizz down your slut throat.

"I want to see him shoot cum all over your face and tits. I want to see you covered in it, you fucking whore."

It was the face and tits comment at the end that finally made her come. She came really hard, for a really long time, and bit down on her hand and tried to hide her face while she came so that Miss Jack and Eager wouldn't see. As long as she was still coming, I kept going.

"What, you don't want them to see you're coming, you fucking slut? You can't hide it. Everyone can see what a slut you are." She moaned and came some more.

Mom

2011-02-10T11:43:00.000-05:00

Note: this part of the post was started a while ago, back around Christmas.

I'm staying with my mom for a week, just the two of us, the first time we've had time alone together in nearly five years. I'd almost forgotten how much we enjoy each other's company. When it's just us, we open up to each other in a way that we can't when there are other people around. Mom is my mother-confidant-therapist-girlfriend (er, that's girlfriend in the giggly sense, just to clarify, nothing creepy). I do miss Lachaise, but I think it's better that he didn't come with me this time.

Mom knows that I'm kinky. She figured it out in high school — I suspect she snooped in my room and found my handcuffs — but we didn't speak of it openly until I formally came out to her about four years ago. I told her because I knew that she knew, and I wanted her to know that what I do is healthy and safe. As it turns out, she's kinky, too, but because of issues stemming from severe sexual abuse she suffered as a child, she's never felt comfortable acting out her fantasies. It makes me sad to think that she can't explore that part of herself.

Now here's the catch: one of the people who abused her also abused one of my cousins and was in my life as well, and I briefly spent time alone with him as a young child. This was long before Mom or my cousin recovered their memories of the abuse, so she didn't know that I was in danger. I don't remember being abused, but there is some circumstantial evidence that I may have been. Yesterday afternoon, I was telling Mom about a book I recently read that discusses the aftereffects of trauma, and eventually the conversation lead 'round to a recent half-hearted attempt on my part to find a therapist. I confessed that I wasn't sure I wanted to find out if I'd been abused. I'm a pretty healthy individual, what would it help? And I'm scared of what I could lose.

I'm scared of losing Lachaise. When Mom began to recover her memories of abuse and began to heal, my dad couldn't deal with it. He pulled back emotionally. He had idealized my mom's childhood and didn't want to hear about what had happened, and I think he really doubted the truth of her memories. Mom also changed a lot as she healed. By the time I was in high school, I couldn't imagine my parents being compatible with each other. I can draw a pretty straight line between my mom dealing with her abuse and my parents' divorce a few years later.

Mom and I talked about how Lachaise is different from my dad, and how I'm different from my mom. I've spent a lot of time figuring out who I am and have a very strong sense of myself; no matter what I find, who I am isn't going to change. And Lachaise doesn't expect people to suck it up and carry on the way my dad's family does. Dad's from the old school of thought that "you shouldn't need therapy." Lachaise recognizes that sometimes, you need help. I need to tell Lachaise that I'm scared, and I need to trust that he'll take care of me if I'm emotionally wounded, the same way he has when I've been physically wounded.

I'm also scared of losing my sexuality, especially now that it's become such a big part of my identity and my social life. This fear is more difficult to talk to with Mom, who doesn't necessarily think it would be a bad thing for me to be less kinky. At the moment, all of the people I hang out with are kinky. The kinky book club I host has become a close group of loving and supportive friends. If I have to withdraw from kink for a while, it's going to mean withdrawing from all of my friends. That's what the fear says, anyway. The logical me says that's not true, my friends are an incredible support network and would be happy to hang out with me in a vanilla context if that's what I need.

And this is the part I just wrote before posting.

I talked to Lachaise about my fear of losing him. I think he was a little hurt that I was scared of him leaving. Like my mom, he reassured me that he is not my dad, and I am not my mom. We are us.

The trickier part was explaining why I want to explore the possibility that I may have been abused. It would mean going through a difficult time and a lot of emotional suffering, and with what reward? If I'm not suffering now, why would I want to do that? It's a question I had a tough time answering for myself. Mom talked about the ways in which her abuse had affected her even before she was aware of it. If I was abused, it's possibly the root cause of things like my perpetually tight shoulders, my inability to sleep with someone else touching me, and my weight problem. If suffering through old memories means that I can resolve even one of those issues, it will be well worth it.

Beyond those concrete reasons, there's the desire to know for certain what my life's narrative is. If something that significant happened to me, I want to know so that I can gain a better understanding of who I am. If it didn't happen, then I can finally stop wondering and tell my mom to stop speculating.

Of course, with a wedding coming up in less than three months, this is not the ideal time to begin such a psychological undertaking. I want to hold off on looking for a therapist until my life doesn't revolve around wedding planning. If any of my readers are local and would recommend someone, please let me know in the comments section!

Coasting

2011-01-01T22:04:00.003-05:00

Dictionary.com defines coasting as "to continue to move or advance after effort has ceased; keep going on acquired momentum"

That is what the past two months of my life have been.

Life in this house has been stressed, to say the least. The holidays are not always a time of beauty and love for many of us, and for me it is magnified by having to leave the comfort and security of my house and traveling at least 1000 miles round trip.Doing this as a couple was easy-peasy and we looked forward to it...doing this with three small pre-school children is self-abuse. On top of that add money issues from trying to stabilize after the bankruptcy, the stinging defeat of two positions I ran for in my volunteer work and general bickering amongst family, and you have a toxic stew of unhappiness and inattentiveness.

Nick's reaction to overwhelming stress is to rely heavily on my internal enslavement that is already established and expend less effort on active Ownership to focus more intensely on solving or grappling with whatever has come up. This is fine for short-term situations; I feel honored that He trusts me enough to expect me to continue to perform to His standards after His direct involvement has lessened. Unfortunately, lately it went beyond short-term and I began to struggle with His lack of active Ownership. The base of our O/p dynamic began to crumble as I stagnated and the IE started to erode. When I feel the beginnings of the decay I tend to react with a sharp uprise in resentment and outright civil disobedience. It's my flawed last-ditch effort to draw attention to the fact that we're off course and doomed to hit the shoals if He doesn't start steering soon. (I've been broken of the need to jump for the steering wheel...that NEVER ends well)

Our last-ditch effort came about while we were on holiday in Arizona for the Christmas break. Being out of my routine, in unfamiliar surroundings, with Him still asleep at the wheel...the last of my resolve dissolved and I started running amok. Back talk. Balking. Lashing out. At one point when He inadvertently hit me harder than expected while trying to get my attention I threatened to hit Him as hard as possible if He ever did it again. And I meant it, not like a playing mocking tone, but in a very real "bad things will happen if You do that" way.

You can easily see that no good could come from this.

We were adversarial by the time we made it back home. I was angry and resentful, feeling abandoned and insignificant, untrusting and nearly aggressive in avoiding Him. He was also distant and snappish, easily irritated, disinterested in sex or vanilla intimacies.

I mourned the absence of what we had. I spent a few nights awake trying to figure out where I had gone wrong, where I had let in the decay that separated us.

So one morning I woke with a new resolve. One does not inspire leadership by challenging each move...I vowed to be submissive to Him, without any prompting, to be unresisting, to be more pleasing, to remind Him why He took the lead in our relationship to begin with...

I doted. I devoted. I lavished attention on Him, played geisha to Him and struggled to curb my impetuous anger and presumptuous thoughts. What could this dying effort hurt? I was already in pain and sadness...what could showing Him these things, being revealed and raw to Him really do now?

His inner dominance awoke to my more docile self. He saw my pain and confusion, felt my loss and anger, and responded. He began to make His way to the wheel and was reading the maps. And suddenly He went "How the fuck did we get here?!"

The past week has been a time of self-awareness and discovery on both of our parts. I have discovered that languishing for His dominance is nowhere near as effective as inviting it; He's discovered that in making me what I am today He has shouldered more of the burden of Ownership than He initially thought. It was painful, lonely and I hope we never have to do it again. We still have our moments, where I get defensive, waiting for Him to pull away again, and He has His moments where He fully expects something from me that withered away without His direct nurturing.

He's made changes that will hopefully get us back on track. I'm trying to hold a positive outlook on His renewed attention. He has goals for us, a way to ensure that we don't decay like that again. While I welcome His full return, I still resent times when my leash is shortened. I have grown accustomed to Him not caring, so for Him to poke His nose in and stir shit up again makes me a little edgy until I re accustom myself to it.

And if we do, I'm grabbing the wheel. A little coup d'etat might encourage Him to not let go of the wheel next time.

A Very Long and Sexy Post

2010-12-11T11:54:00.000-05:00

When Lachaise and I opened up our relationship and I started looking for an outside partner, I was hoping to find a bi or lesbian, boyish-looking, female-bodied, heavy pain bottom who didn't mind that I'm engaged to a man and can only see her occasionally when he's out of town. That, my friends, is a very tall order, and I didn't actually expect to find anyone who met all those criteria. That I did — on the very first try, no less — amazes me. Spider is a treasure.

We saw each other for the third time a couple weeks ago. I didn't blog about our second play session — I had invited her to a party with some friends of mine while Lachaise was at a work event, but I didn't ask Lachaise if that was okay until after I'd already invited Spider, and in fact he wasn't entirely comfortable with me bringing Spider into my group of friends. He didn't ask me to uninvite Spider, and in fact we had a great scene together at the party, but in light of Lachaise's discomfort with her being there, I thought it better not to blog about it. I'm mentioning it now to emphasize the importance of communication in open relationships and to own up to my own failure in that account. Kids, ask first, and don't take anything for granted!

I do want to briefly mention that scene at the party, though, because it was so "close." I held Spider against me as I beat her, and it felt like a very intimate scene, despite being played out in a crowded space. Although Spider isn't responsive in obvious ways, I started picking up on her body language, and by the end of the scene I felt like I was reading her pretty well. Finally, yesterday evening, I felt confident enough to beat Spider as hard as I wanted to, and as hard as she wanted me to. The night's goal - besides a good scene, of course - was marks. As a flogging aficionado, I rarely leave any marks that don't fade after the scene ends. This time, I wanted to break some blood vessels or raise a good welt.

We sat down in her room, in front of my suitcase full of toys, and suddenly got shy. What did I want to do, Spider wanted to know. I turned the question back to her. She wanted whatever I wanted to do to her. Hoo boy, get a bunch of tops together, and pretty soon they're going to start complaining about that conversation. We've all had it, and it too often means that the bottom knows just what they want, but they don't want to ask for it because they want it to be "forced" on them. It's a frustrating communication block. But Spider assured me that she really did want to be subjected to my whims, and because our scenes had gone so well, I trusted her to mean what she said, and I trusted myself to notice if I was going wrong.

There was something else I wanted to ask Spider. I wasn't going to go any faster than she was comfortable with, but let's face it, there's a reason "female-bodied" was on that list of criteria. I'd been hankering after pussy for nearly a year. "Are you ready to have sex?" I asked her.

She was, she said, but she also reminded me that she's pretty new to this. That was a good reminder to have. It's sometimes hard for me to remember that, even though she identifies as a lesbian while I'm a lowly bisexual, I still have more sexual experience with women than she does. (Thanks, art school!)

I still didn't know exactly what I wanted to do, but I'm pretty good at working off-the-cuff. I took off my shirt, pants and socks and told Spider to do the same. That left her in nothing but a pair of white boy-cut briefs and me in red panties and a wife-beater. I tied her wrists behind her back, parallel one on top of each other so she could lie comfortably on her back if I wanted her to. I eyed my toys, but I started warming her up with my hands. I pulled those tighty-whiteys up so they framed her ass and spanked her, not very hard.

I circled in front of her and kissed her, kissed her neck, bit her lightly as the predator began to emerge. I pinched, pulled, and squeezed her nipples, but it wasn't enough. I started slapping them, and Spider moaned. I hit harder, beating each tit back and forth, watching them bounce. Spider moaned more. In pleasure or pain? It's hard to tell, that's part of what I enjoy. I picked up a flogger - not the suede one that I use for warm ups, I chose the harsher bullhide that packs a sting with its wallop. I stood to the side, held my left arm up against her chest, and began flogging her tits. I held my palm out parallel to the floor so it would catch any stray tails. Soon her breasts were warm and pink, and I moved back 'round to work on her back, and then on her ass.

Soon I was ready to move up another notch, but it was the breasts' turn again. I put a clothespin on each one and told them, "Take care of these for me," while I picked up my dragontail and flicked it across Spider's back. I swung it harder, and the flat of it hit her back with an ear-splitting crack. I hit again and again, harder and faster, practicing to get that snap every time. The bare walls and wooden floor of the room bounced the sound back and made my ears hurt every time I landed a good stroke. What top or bottom can resist that thrilling sound?

I moved back to Spider's ass, but those briefs, as hot as they were, kept covering my targets. Off they came, and the dragontail snapped back and forth as I mused on the visual symmetry of breasts and buttocks.

Now Spider was well warmed up and I pulled out two new little toys - 6" long evil sticks that Lachaise and I were given recently as party favors. Evil sticks create a lot of pain with very little effort, and normally, it's hard not to mark someone while using them, but I had trouble raising welts with these short ones. They were too short to get much power into the snap, and Spider's skin was already so warmed up that it wasn't marking easily. I worked over her breasts, back and ass, and only managed to raise a few small (and, I expect, short-lived) welts on some areas of her back that the flogger hadn't hit.

I still had an ace up my sleeve, though. I'd brought my paddle in the hopes of giving it a little workout. It packs such a wallop that I very rarely use it, and then then without much force. Naturally, I was eager for the opportunity to swing it hard enough to leave bruises. First, though, I had to get Spider into a position where she wouldn't be at risk of falling on her face if a hard strike caught her off-balance.

I led her over to her bed, sat down, and asked her to lie across my lap. She knelt on the bed, and I supported her torso as she lay down. She made such a pretty picture! Her bright pink ass was under my right hand, and with her hands behind her back, she was the very picture of the helpless innocent. I spanked her some more to get that ass in prime condition, and couldn't help slipping a finger down to her dripping-wet pussy. I would have more of that later, but at the moment, it was paddling time.

I started with gentle taps and began gradually hitting harder. Rather than swinging the paddle, I kept it parallel to her ass and brought it down flat, spreading the force evenly (so I hoped) across both cheeks and holding the paddle down at the end of each stroke to drive the force of the blow deep into her flesh. I focused on the sweet spot where her thighs met her bottom, and as I swung harder, she began to moan with each stroke. Now and then I paused to let the pain dissipate and to look at her face to see by her expression if she was doing okay; her face was pressed sideways against the bed, but I could see that she was relaxed and even smiling a little.

During the third or fourth such pause, I noticed the bright red speckling of broken blood vessels on the cheek farther from me. My strokes weren't landing as evenly as I'd hoped. I made up for it by landing hard blows to the other check until it started to match. I continued the hard blows, pausing more frequently to see how the marks were developing. Spider was moaning and squirming under the harshest blows, and by now my own panties were soaked through.

When I could see that Spider was going to have some nice big bruises for some time to come, I put down the paddle and let my right hand find her clit while the left continued to torment her, pinching and mauling her injured flesh. Her clit was slick and swollen. I circled and stroked it, but Spider's reaction was subdued until my left hand reached under her chest and squeezed the nearer nipple. Then my helpless victim moaned and gasped just as beautifully as you please. Finally – but all too soon – she shuddered with orgasm and went limp.

I untied her hands and I gently stroked her back as she recovered. She lay in my lap a while longer, until she started to shiver, and I helped her under the blanket.

When Spider had warmed up again, she wanted to know what I wanted. The problem was, I didn't really know. Or rather, I already had what I wanted. I had her orgasm. I didn't really care about my own. But Spider did. I joined her under the blanket and we snuggled up. She reached down and her fingers found my clit. It only took a couple minutes before I felt my orgasm rise and crest. Both of us now exhausted, we rested and cuddled in the warm bed.

Upcoming topics

2010-12-07T10:08:00.002-05:00

So in the interest of making myself stay committed to this blog, I thought I'd put up upcoming topics, kinda like a promise to no one that I'd follow through on this list. :)

A slave's struggle with the expectation of skimpy clothing for someone "in the lifestyle"
Adjusting to life when N exerts course correction for our relationship
Control, Service and Obedience; How they apply to us
Whatever other dreck forms itself in my brain :)

Awrite, I'm sorry!

2010-12-07T09:16:00.002-05:00

I'm sorry, sorry, sorry. I neglected my duties as a blogger and spent the whole past month fucking off for the sheer fun of it.

Or not, I distinctly remember many times in the past month I would not consider sheer fun by any means.

Anyways, I'm here. Really!

N and I made our first munch appearance. We enjoyed the group that has formed in our little (and I mean little) community. It's a mix of D/s, M/s, new and old, those more into the S/M and those who are more into the mind-control/service. It's a nice blend of people that I could eventually feel comfortable in.

Again with the not having quite enough of a niche, though. At least for me, the perpetual loner. Because of our strange version of O/p (service orientated, obedience required, kink as an afterthought, control as a medium value) we often don't quite mesh with many of the other folks identifying as M/s online. In person it isn't so bad, I think, because they can just accept us as we are. Online, though, they either think He isn't proficient enough with [insert instrument of pain here] to be worth anything, or they mistakenly believe that because He doesn't have 200 protocols and rules that He isn't in control or cares to be. So it becomes a bit of a game between us to watch the others try and pin us down.

"Well, she walks behind Him, so she must be the s type..."
"Yeah, but she orders her own meal!"
"Iknorite? But she asks if she may use the bathroom when in public..."
"But without any titles or honorifics! That's not any D/M/s I've seen..."
"They don't do kink religiously, punishments or the 400 slave positions as defined by LordHighTopAss. Really, who doesn't do those?!"

That is why I am hoping that a person-to-person setting will lead to being more comfortable in my own skin while discussing how things are as He wills it.

Oh. And with His help, I dyed my hair red. :)

A little fun

2010-11-16T15:14:00.002-05:00

I was stoking the woodstove this morning, cussing under my breath at the log that wouldn't light on fire, and my mind started wandering. It does that so much I rarely ever expect it home anymore...

There are parallels to slavery and stoking a woodstove. Seriously!

Top Ten Ways Slavery is Like Using the Woodstove:

It takes patience. Lots and lots of patience. Starting a fire from scratch is not something that can be rushed.
Without a good foundation, the fire will never meet its full potential. When you start a fire on top of ash, you can't just lays logs down and toss a match in...you have to build it cross-wise on the bottom row of kindling, lengthwise on the next. Fire needs to breathe.
I need to re-mention patience.
Remember the raw materials. Some woods burn better at different temperatures, some create a lot of by-products, some are slow to start but burn forever. Knowing your material is half the battle.
Fine-tuning the combustion process takes balance and close observation. It's an intricate dance between the fresh air intake and the flue damper. Open the air too much with an open flue and the fire will burn out before you ever benefit from it's creation. Open the air but choke the flue down, you'll never have an established fire...it will just smolder and smoke you out. If you close down the air but leave the flue wide open, your fire will listlessly scorch the wood and little more.
Working with a woodstove becomes less and less difficult the more you become accustomed to it's nature.
There is a sense of satisfaction in seeing a good roaring fire in your woodstove, feeling its heat and knowing that you are the one that helped create it.
It takes plenty of dedication and planning to efficiently utilize a woodstove. Many scoff at the old-fashioned nature of this practice, what with the modern age and all, but the experienced woodstove user will know that a little work can do a body good.
A smart woodstove owner will do research and know what the woodstove's capabilities, requirements and maintenance needs are.
Because it needs to be said again: PATIENCE!

So there you have it. A little old-time wisdom from this tired, soot-smeared slave. :)

Election Day

2010-11-02T15:33:00.003-05:00

So I thought I'd use today's big event to make a point. :)
How opportunistic of myself, I must say.

Across the US, today is Election Day. Millions of Americans are heading to the polls (if they haven't already licked the envelope shut and sent it in) and making their voices be heard. Or at least that what we like to think. I'll leave that to someone else to debate. Anyway...

I found out yesterday where we are supposed to vote and informed N, who was happy to hear that it was on His way home from work. Fast forward to this morning, we are having our usual chit-chat and I ask Him if He has any stops to make after work. He thinks about it and says "Yes! I have to stop and vote." I say "Oh, but I thought maybe You could swing by and pick us all up, then we could vote at the same time."

He very matter-of-fact-ly states: "I will vote on my way home, and you will vote if there is time after I get home."

That up there doesn't bother me, really. I mean, I kinda thought it should, I was waiting for a big landslide of "buts!" and "Not fairs" and the likes to smother my brain. So I was rather surprised when the strongest reaction I got from the hinterlands of my grey matter was "Well, okay...*frowny face for a moment*"

I know that a lot of people will get pissed when they read that He controls if I vote, and would control what I voted for if it came down to it. They'd scream about inalienable rights and every voice counts and lots of other catchy slogans. It's easy for me to brush it off:

I trust N with my life. Why wouldn't I trust that He knows best in regards to politics?

It isn't as if I just stick my head in the sand and ignore all the politics that gets hurled my way. I read, I research, I talk to N about stuff candidates say. Occasionally, things I have discovered will change N's outlook on politics, which is a good sign, a sign He is capable of taking input and using it.

I don't mind giving my vote to N. He is a good Man who votes to protect our family. He explains His reasoning to me if I ask. I've generally adopted most of N's views (I'm generally more distrustful of the government, yet more socialist lol) so it isn't like He's stifling me. I'm actually a bit of an activist when it comes to voter education and accessibility!

So tell me...what do you do for voting? Are you in some kind of M/s O/p or D/s relationship? Does it impact your vote?

HodgePodge

2010-10-22T13:37:00.003-05:00

It's me again, Margaret. *creepy giggle*

So. It's been busy here...how about where you are? October has been insane for meetings, phone calls, doctor's appointments and even a three-day conference. I've seethed, cried, panicked, yelled, hugged and hurled some extremely inventive curses at humankind.

N and I are still getting by. This month has been busy with the bankruptcy, so naturally, I've developed a bit of an obsession with being poor again. Not like we weren't before, but damn, when everything is pretty much cash only, it's pretty hard to think otherwise. Growing up poor, I mean, had-the-phone-cut-off and eating-hamburger-helper-without-hamburger poor. Some things, I didn't realize that most families didn't have to deal with. A good example is grocery shopping. After moving in with N, He thought it was bizarre that I would become physically sick while adding up our purchases before checking out. Like, run to the bathroom, stomach cramps and all kind of sick. I couldn't explain it at the time. Just something I had accepted as life as fucked-up-me, and I deal.

After digging through the bullshit that had accumulated in my brain, I realized that the sickness I got every time I got ready to checkout was most likely a psychosomatic reaction to never knowing if my parents' check was going to go through when I went grocery shopping with them as a teenager. I internalized stress about money (and the lack thereof) that much. So it's no surprise that when I perceive that we are seriously scraping, I retreat back to my survival mode and start making the foods I grew up with. I start hoarding food.

Or like last night, I start obsessing about Solstice/Christmas presents for the kids. I wanted to start a layaway program. N nixes it immediately. And because of a combination of my neurosis about money and my bull-headedness, I wouldn't let it drop. Wouldn't accept no. I couldn't understand why He was so cavalier about the presents. I wanted to start stashing them away now, wanted to *know* that I was going to have something under the trees for them. I needed that assurance...that my kids would have stuff, from their parents, and wouldn't know what life without presents is like. Basically, I used this one issue to funnel my entire hope that my children will never eat hobo stew, they'll never go without medical care, they'll never be ashamed to have friends over, and they will not be pitied at their school for being poor and without.

Compounding the problem is that I am not in control of the finances. At all. I don't' make purchases without clearing it, I don't manage the checkbook, and I couldn't recite the balances on anything beyond my purse-wallet. So when N says "Things are tight, don't spend too much" I hear "We're broke, no spending" and start my irrational coping methods. It's a mixture of communication and internal-wiring issues. He has to become better at indicating me that we aren't one step from the shelter, and I have to work on cutting back on the instant over reaction.

Owning a slave with issues surrounding finances is a struggle for N. It truly is a balancing act between keeping me so far out of the loop that I start panicking from lack of information and dumping on me so much that I start panicking from faulty mental processing of the information and results. It takes a lot of strength, confidence and mental force to pull me into to check when I start to revert...and I admire Him for it.

I'll probably put up a better-explained discussion of how the financial responsibilities work for our O/p later.

What is a "community"? Or "How we are socially inept"

2010-10-04T18:51:00.002-05:00

On FetLife, I often hear that we, as kinksters, are automatically entered into a community. As such, I am supposed to hold up and adhere to these random vague "ideals" to properly represent this community. Failure for D/O/M-types to connect and mingle in the local scene is often used as a red flag. Failure for the s-type is often used as a sign of either snobbishness or flakiness.

Sounds great, but N and I have never been the type of people to congregate and socially mingle. We both have a small group of friends that mostly intersects. We rely on each other for social fulfillment. It's been that way for most of our relationship. Because of the intimate, inter-connected nature of our relationship, it really makes for little that needs to be met in other people.

It is because of my lack of social conditioning (and His) that we feel no need to mingle with other kinksters. Yes, we identify within a "kink" relationship, but it doesn't define us...we define it. It doesn't occur to me to feel more connected to a group of strangers just because they also like to tie each other up and whack each other. Nor do I feel a kinship with other slaves simply based off of the fact that they are on the short side of the slash.

This disinterest in socializing with others is often interpreted as being fake, ashamed, imperious, or "hiding something".

Instead of asking about it, or even giving us the benefit of the doubt, it often assumed that we think we are too good for the local communities, or that we are fake and He's really just a 48-year old in His mom's basement, posting this in-between SecondLife sessions and picking at His ass-acne.

Or maybe, just maybe, we don't make friends easily, don't have a whole lot of time to go out and drink with people we don't know, and we are, by nature, introverts who find social functions to be strange situations we are often unfamiliar in.

That, and we haven't really identified a need in either of us to connect with others beyond the occasional e-mail.

The community is not the be-all end-all of kinkdom. It is useless as a barometer of a person's kink credentials. And by adamantly pushing for everyone to link arms with their kink brothers and sisters, many people are going to retreat back into their homes and familiar social circles. We aren't in the closet, but we ain't dancing in the streets, either. :)

Signed, a socially inept introvert who's happy not being a part of the kink community. :)

He's not emotionally distant...

2010-09-21T15:22:00.003-05:00

...He's just not a fucking crybaby.

Since my very good friend's return from her 7 year vacation in Georgia, she and I have become very close with each other. She's one of those few people who don't try to save me from myself when it comes to my life as an owned slave, and I luffs her for that. So we were discussing the recent passing of my Owner's grand-uncle, how N is sad to hear he died but not torn up and carrying on, and to my complete and utter shock she says: "He not very emotional, is he." I know there should be a question mark at the end, but she didn't really make it question, it lacked the inquisitive tone at the end of the sentence to indicate a query.

I shrugged and brushed it off. I found it an odd thing to say but was more interested in cramming my tits into my suddenly one-size-too-small sports bra than pontificating over my Owner's preference in processing emotions.

Now I have the time.

N. Well, what can we say about N. He's very reliable, confident, logical, and has this ability to blend into a room no matter where He goes. Affable. Loyal to a point. Very cool, calm, collected - the 3C I call 'em. Patient. Optimistic, ambitious, pragmatic and insanely hawt. um I might be biased there. Sry.

He feels things. He has emotions. He has mushy gushy thoughts (although they are few and far between). He has been hurt, He has been enraged, He has been driven to tears by happiness. He has been in fear of my life.

What He has not experienced is losing His cool over emotions. He does not let them rule. He might not even noticed half of them because it really doesn't change shit in His estimation. Navel gazing is not His strong suit. I have only see Him cry five times in the 10 (almost 11) years we've been together. Once over something that enraged and hurt Him but He had no contol over, once for each birth of our kids, and when His grandfather died. He doesn't often express things like "I love you" verbally. He doesn't enjoy excessive PDA. He rarely expresses intense feelings, rarely reacts to them.

What He does do is show people these things in action. He will go out of His way to help you if you are someone He cares for. He'll be sure to show you that He thinks your an idiot. He loves me through actions, expresses trust by inspiring it.

This is foreign to my friend. She is married to a man that cries at the drop of a hat, has heart-to-hearts with her a few times a week, is sensitive and prone to getting his feelings hurt.

I couldn't imagine trying to live with a man like that. I'd go nuts. I'm emotional enough for the two of us as it is. I just thought it was so funny that she'd consider my Owner to be almost deficient (in her estimation) when it came to emotions, and I would consider her man to be a bit over-abundant in his.

I also think it goes to show that still rivers run deep. Just because N isn't showing anything doesn't mean He isn't feeling it. To think otherwise is presumptuous.

Blending In

2010-09-20T21:18:00.004-05:00

Intriguing mentioned in her previous post that had she not known about our O/p relationship she wouldn't have known we live in one. At first I was a bit nonplussed...'I look vanilla?! What the hell?'

After thinking about it, damned straight we do. We look like the average old-fashioned couple. I dote on Him and the kids, take care of the house (heh, well maybe not the best at that last one, lol) and He provides for us, protects us, and makes the final decisions.

Honestly that's the main goal. We have kids and they don't need to be involved in how we live. There isn't any overt dominance in our interactions. When He wants something, He asks for it, but I know better than to not do it. I don't need Him constantly lording over me to know what He wants and how He wants it.

Kink is something fairly independent from the relationship status. I stay His slave even when we haven't gotten our beat on in awhile. "Play time" happens on those rare times when all 3 are gone for a night. We don't feel comfortable any other way.

There isn't much to hide from the rugrats because we naturally run under the radar anyhow! It's N's innate nature to be unobtrusive and to blend in. He says you get away with so much more that way, and I would have to agree, look at how he tricked me into believing He was normal. :)

Why is this strange lady here?

2010-09-09T13:32:00.002-05:00

Well, tora's snuck in here and started posting while I wasn't looking, and I didn't properly introduce her. She's stepped up and introduced herself, but I suspect that some of my friends and readers (if I have any) will be wondering, "Who is this strange lady, and why is she posting in Intriguing's blog?"

Tora (sorry, tora, I can't not capitalize the beginning of a sentence!) is my oldest bestest friend. We met in middle school, quickly became best friends, and so it has remained despite the strains of time, distance, and very different lives. This is entirely to her credit, as I suck at keeping in touch with people. When we were in high school, we discovered our mutual interest in kink. I was still surprised when she told me about her Owner/property relationship with her husband, though; I've always known her to have an in-your-face, take-no-prisoners attitude. This is not a lady you want to mess with!

Tora had been posting on another blog, but she had a falling-out with the blog owner, so I, in desperate need of content, invited her over here. If you take issue with tora's relationship or the fact that she's in a O/p relationship while raising kids, let me tell you that I have stayed at their house, and neither tora nor her children are being abused or mistreated in anyway. If she hadn't told me, I wouldn't have even known that tora was N's slave. If you still have a problem with her, please express it politely or keep it to yourself. Comments that are abusive, threatening, or that I otherwise deem to be out-of-line will be deleted.

Did I mention we are weird?

2010-09-08T13:46:00.005-05:00

So the past Monday morning started off weird for all sorts of reasons. The Man didn't have work, the oldest kidlet didn't have school, my brother has spent the night, and I was leaving mid-morning to go workout. Without any rugrats. (It was a weird and liberating feeling.) I got breakfast provided for the family and quickly hopped into the shower while everyone else was eating. N had been in and out of the bathroom while I showered, using the facilities and then putting His contacts in. On the second trip in, He suddenly slid open the shower door and grinned at me. It was cold and I was a bit torqued that He was letting in all this freezing air.

"I have to piss" He said.

That's all I needed to hear. I dropped to my knees at the edge of the tub, arms crossed under my breasts, pressing my breasts up and together for Him, my mouth open (but my tongue curled up to block my throat), eyes shut. This is the mandatory pissing-post pose. Yes I just made that term up, but hey, there you go.

I wasn't irritated anymore. I wasn't rushing through my mental planner trying to ensure I didn't forget anything. I was just a slave in the tub waiting to be pissed on, waiting to be marked, reduced, claimed and loved.

I just was.

As His piss washed over me and I heard the slight sigh stream from His lips, I melted a little more into the floor. There is nothing like being pissed on, in my mind. It's fraught with tangled emotions, negative connotations, distaste and shame. When He pisses on me, I feel completely free to be nothing more than His slave for that moment. To embrace the warmth of His fluid, smell His very unique scent, to receive something no other has ever earned the right to. I feel His ownership flow over my skin and the essence of Him soak in.

I can't say I was this ecstatic about being His when He pressed His still pissy dick into my mouth and said "Suck it". But I did, wincing as the strong bitter taste spread across my tongue, making me work harder to find that pleasure one gets from really stripping the life out of a man through his cock. And suddenly He was there, waiting, trembling, before He let out a groan and filled my mouth with a new salty taste that I hastily swallowed before it made me gag. And as I cleaned Him off with my tongue, He smiled down at me and said "Thank you, slave."

No Monday morning could ever be bad when I start it with His piss running down my face and chest and His cum warming my belly.

Hello to blogger-land

2010-09-05T16:08:00.003-05:00

Hi.

That's about all this post is going to be; an introduction. I'm the tora part of my moniker alwaysHistora. Owned slave mom of three, living out in the country, thinks too much, talks too much, coming out of a screwed up past and trying not to screw up the future too badly.

I often write about the struggles and joys of living as owned property. My Owner, N, is a good guy who is consistently logical and must have the patience of a saint to own the likes of me. We operate in an O/p relationship, with only His limits as the boundaries, and the intricacies of such a relationship are wide and varied. Any questions on how or what we do something, just drop me a line and I'll probably make it into a blog post.

I don't talk about our kids much because I have had nasty threats about that in the past. I might touch lightly on the challenges of raising kids and being property but I won't be going much farther than that.

I don't do scenes or munches because there isn't much of a community around here. When we have run into other kinksters from around the area we are usually the odd ones out because we are less about the whips and chains and more about the obedience and transformation.

I do talk about relationships (especially mine), life in vanilla-land as a slave, the fun of sex and bondage and certain risky fun stuff, the pros and cons of leather versus fabric restraints, the beauty of a locking collar, the fear of dependency, coming to grips with becoming someone better and different than who I started out to be. The gritty details and gushy happiness are all open and free for the taking.

I will be back in a bit to flesh out more about the O/p side of us, since that is what this blog is mainly about.

Once again, Hi! Thanks for reading that, and hold on, because it is bound to be a bumpy ride.

Wedding Vows

2010-08-10T08:12:00.002-05:00

Lechaise and I have been engaged for a year now, but have only recently been able to start making wedding plans. Now that things are in motion, I'm starting to think about writing my vows. The problem is, I keep getting stuck on what I don't want to say - that I'll love Lachaise until I die, and that I'll be monogamous. I certainly hope that Lachaise and I love each other for the rest of our lives, but I don't think that's a necessary requirement for a successful relationship, nor do I think it's something that we can reasonably promise each other. Wedding vows in our culture are so infused with the ideas of lifelong commitment and monogamy that it's difficult for me to conceptualize vows that neither include nor explicitly reject these ideas, but merely ignore them. Moreover, I'm worried that if I ignore them to obviously, I'll call attention to their exclusion.

What I need to do is focus on what I dowant to say instead of what I don't. My brother, who will officiate our wedding, visited recently and spent a long walk with me talking about my relationship with Lechaise and what marriage means to me. I've been working on figuring out the same thing, and it was a very clarifying discussion. I'm getting married because:

I want to publicly celebrate our relationship and throw a kick-ass party for my friends.

I want to give us a reason to fight for this relationship if things ever get really tough.

I want to know that, when I need some help, care or support, Lechaise will be there for me, and I want him to know that I'll be there for him.

I want to create a firm base to build our family on.

I want the legal benefits and societal support that come with marriage.

I should maybe leave the "legal benefits" bit out of the vows, though, eh? :-P Anyway, I'm glad to have this down in writing so I can come back to it as I work on my vows.

Experiment Two: More Success!

2010-07-23T18:14:00.003-05:00

While I was busy being a freak, Lachaise was getting his freak on with a young professional in a distant city. This was the first time he's had sex with someone else since we started dating, and the first time he's been sexual with anyone else when I wasn't around, so I wasn't entirely certain how I'd react. I was worried that I would end up feeling like I'm "supposed" to - jealous and angry. I was determined not to get angry at Lachaise for doing something I had assured him was okay, but beyond that I wasn't sure what emotions I'd be dealing with.

When Lachaise finally got home - after a terrible flight - and we started talking about his dalliance, I found myself feeling… fine. Happy to hear about his good time, happy because he was happy. An emotion that I discovered in Tristan Taormino's excellent book Opening Up is called compersion. Lachaise had a really good time with a woman who sounds like someone I'd like to hang out with, and I enjoyed hearing about what they did. Because I don't write about anyone on my blog without their permission, I won't go into exactly what that was, but suffice it to say both parties enjoyed themselves. And none, absolutely none, of the negative emotions I was worried about surfaced for either of us. Initially, Lachaise's strong instinct towards equality made him feel bad, because he thought it wasn't fair that he got to have sex and I didn't. I reassured him that I had a great time and didn't feel like I'd missed out on anything. I think he was also a little disappointed that he didn't get to hear about hot lesbian sex. Maybe next time, Honey!

Experiment One: Success!

2010-07-19T18:53:00.005-05:00

Well, it took a while for the stars to align, but Lachaise and I finally had an opportunity to act on our open arrangement. He was going to a conference for a few days. Unhappy experience has shown Lachaise that after a long day of working a conference, he's too tired to try picking up women in bars, and doesn't care for his chances. He decided to hire a professional instead and hit the online review boards. Meanwhile, I hopped onto CollarMe to find a playmate.

I was hoping to find a cute little boi, and although pickings were slim in the boyish-looking-submissive-lesbian department, I did manage to find one. Oh, let's call her… Spider. I didn't really expect her to respond to the e-mail I sent, but she did and we soon had a lively correspondence going. When I told her that our only chance to play in the next couple months was two days later while Lachaise was away, she agreed to come over without blinking an eye. There was a little snafu as she driving in an unfamiliar area in the dark and rain and became hopelessly lost, but I finally found her and led her to my place.

We chatted about this and that until we relaxed a little, and then did a little negotiation (safewords "yellow" and "red," no bodily fluids, no genital contact) and started to play. First things first, I told Spider to take her clothes off. She'd looked cute in her CollarMe photo, but in real life, she was hot. Dirty blond hair, about my height and very slender but not bony. I like thin submissives because it makes me feel big and dominant and I can fit them in my lap. She had really gorgeous tits - small but not too small, very firm and perky, and bright pink nipples. And her ass was soft and round, just made for spanking.

I started out by putting a basic chest harness on her, and then I made her kneel across my lap so I could squeeze and spank her ass while I pulled and pinched her nipples. (Too much alliteration? :-) Once she was warmed up, I had her kneel on the couch facing away from me. I applied a wooden clothespin to each nipple and started flogging her back and ass with my suede flogger. She was pretty quiet the whole time, just making little moans or whimpers when I hit particularly hard. The ropes of the chest harness ran over her shoulders and down her back, protecting her spine and making target lines around her shoulder blades.

After a few especially hard strokes, I rubbed her back and then started running my fingernails over her skin. I hit a ticklish spot and she flinched and laughed, so I started tickling her more. I don't have a tickling fetish, but I can't resist a wriggling bottom. Soon Spider was face-up on the couch as I straddled her and made snide remarks about how tickling is much more expedient to making a bottom squirm than going to all the work of hitting them with a flogger&elips; "when I can just poke you!" *poke poke* *giggle, squirm*

Since I had agreed not to ravish her on the spot, I had to make other plans. I stood up, picked up my leather clapper - a piece of very thick leather doubled over and covered in rabbit fur on one side - and spread her legs apart. I hit the inside of her thighs, up and down, sometimes turning the clapper over to rub the rabbit fur over the reddening skin. Beneath her curly blond pubes, I could see her swollen labia, and she moaned every time I hit close to her cunt.

I realized that her wrists were still crossed defensively in front of her from the tickling, so I grabbed a short length of rope and tied them together. Then I helped her stand up and positioned her in front of a wall that she could lean against to support herself. I brought out my rose flogger, which I had shown her earlier. At first, she'd taken the roses on the ends of the tails to be silk flowers, but her respect for the flogger was visible heightened when I showed her that they're heavy bundles of leather. In my experience, they feel like being punched in the back. Spider said that she hadn't reached a limit with thumpy pain yet, something I can sympathize with, so I thought I'd let her try the roses.

The tails on that flogger are so frickin' long, though, that I couldn't get a round swing on my right side without hitting one of our overstuffed recliners. After a few attempts at adjusting my swing, I gripped up higher, grasping the tails a few inches above the handle, and flogging a figure-8 pattern over both shoulder blades, and sometimes over her ass. After a good warming, I adjusted my grip back to the handle and started hitting more snappy, precise, and harder strokes by collecting the tails together in my left hand and snapping my right wrist to shoot the tails straight at her back. She was whimpering after each blow, and I couldn't go long without walking up behind her and rubbing her back and then her arms as she leaned against me a little. I kissed the back of her neck, and I knew that we were almost done, but not quite yet.

I had told her about Mr. Meany, my dragontail that has been known to leave the occasional welt. Mr. Meany, I explained, wanted to play, and I had promised him a chance to do so. He has a short tail and is easy to wield in close quarters, so I kept my left hand on her arm or shoulder to help steady her while I landed cracking blows and looked for welts or broken blood vessels. To my disappointment, none appeared. Mr. Meany's leather isn't as stiff as it used to be - he's gone soft in his old age. :-) Well, next time, I'll just have to hit harder. I was getting "done" vibes from Spider, so I lead her over to one of the reclines, sat down myself, and pulled her down into my lap. I untied her wrists while I held her, and then had her lean forward enough that I could remove the chest harness as well. For all my topping experience, though, there was one thing I'd forgotten - I didn't think to kiss her until she started to kiss me.

(That's pretty much it. We kissed a little and cuddled some more, then I made us popcorn and we snacked and chatted until it was time for her to leave.)

As for Lachaise's adventure, I'll tell it later. It's dinner time here now.

Valentine's Day

2010-02-14T23:08:00.002-05:00

We didn't have anything planned for Valentine's Day. We will be celebrating our relationship, it just didn't come together for today. But there was one thing I'd been asking Lachaise for, to shave his pubes. It was a perfectly practical issue - I'm tired of choking on stray hairs every time I go down on him. He kept forgetting to take care of it, but grabbed his electric razor once I confessed that I've been wanting to do a scene where I tie him up and suck his cock. I was hoping to surprise him with that one, but I couldn't wait any longer, and I was hoping it was the right motivation. Lucky for me, it was!

While he shaved, I prepared the bed. Pushed the blankets off, moved the pillows to the center, and prepared ropes and cuffs at the four corners. When Lachaise emerged from the bathroom, I hadn't dressed up yet. He helped me take my shirt off and put on a red corset top. With it on, I couldn't bend over, so I told him to get down on the floor and take my shoes off. He did, and then pulled my socks off and stayed on the ground until I changed my jeans for a frilly black skirt and told him to get up. We made out for a few minutes, and then I grabbed his cock and lead him into the bedroom.

I gave him a chance to position the pillows the way he wanted them, and then began securing him to the bed. Tie an ankle, lick his cock, cuff a wrist, make out, tie the other ankle, suck his cock, cuff the other wrist. Position my labia over his cock, and rub against him while we kiss. Many kisses later, I moved slowly down to his cock and began licking and teasing. I took his cock in until it hit the back of my throat, again and again until I began to choke. Then I wrapped my fingers tightly around his cock and moved my mouth down to lick and suck his balls. He doesn't like having his balls played with, unless his cock is really hard, and then he loves it.

Soon, he was begging me to fuck him, and I was soaking wet. I moved on top of him and rubbed my clit over his cock a few times before I shifted my position and pushed my cunt onto him. I fucked him slowly, but I was soon ready to come and gave him position to do the same. I don't have very good control over my orgasms, but I was able to hold off just until he started to shoot, and we came together, hard.

Happy Valentine's Day!

A New Stage

2010-02-14T21:04:00.009-05:00

A couple weeks ago, after a few drinks, I finally got up the courage to tell Lachaise that I want to have sex with a woman, by myself. If he wanted to watch, that was okay, but I wasn't looking for another threesome. I honestly wasn't sure how he would react. I had recently told him that I was open to him having flings while he's on the road for business, but he wasn't comfortable with the idea of sleeping with another woman if I wasn't allowed to sleep with other men, and he wasn't comfortable with me sleeping with other men, so he turned down my offer. I didn't expect him to be open to the idea of me sleeping with other women, but in fact it turned out that it was the missing ingredient to opening up our relationship.

We had a long, energetic discussion that night and continued it the next day, confirming our decisions and agreeing on the details once we'd sobered up. Our new arrangement allows either of us to sleep with other women while Lachaise is away on business, as long as we restrict ourselves to one-night stands and don't form lasting emotional attachments to our extracurricular partners. This is the first time either of us has attempted this type of open relationship, and it may not last long. Although both of us are comfortable with our agreement in theory, it's possible that we won't react so well to the actuality of sharing our partner.

Maybe we'll give it a try and decide that we want to return to a more monogamous relationship, but I think we'll be okay. I wouldn't want to watch Lachaise have sex with someone else, but the thought of hearing about it, once he's back with me, turns me on; he says he feels the same way.

After all the time I've spent researching and thinking about open relationships, it's exciting to have my own relationship evolve. We've talked about going to swingers' clubs before, but it was always something for the future, and I was nervous that Lachaise would never be comfortable acting on what we'd discussed. As we get closer to our wedding, I'm relieved to know that it was more than just talk.

Pain and Philosophy

2009-12-05T09:02:00.006-05:00

Does experiencing pain willingly in a BDSM context make it easier to deal with pain that one is subjected to unwillingly, outside of that context?

I put that question to Lechaise nearly a year ago. His answer was simply, no. My answer was, maybe, and I've spent a lot of time since then thinking about it. I think my answer now is, not necessarily, but I think it is possible. First, though, let me address torture, in order to not address it. While philosophizing about the kind of pain that most of us might experience through a bad accident, an infection, or a good scene is all well and good, I have no experience with torture, and I think it's safe to say that severe pain, inflicted against the will of someone who cannot escape or stop what's happening, is an entirely different beast, well outside the scope of my little musings. I don't think that anything I say here will apply to those extreme cases. Let me also say that this is my personal philosophy of pain, a way to process pain by intellectualizing it, and while I hope other people can understand and relate, I don't expect it to apply to anyone but myself. The experience of pain is too subjective, and I don't want to be presumptuous.

My experience of pain - and, I think, most people's - is really two things: the physical sensation of pain, and the mental and emotional suffering that goes along with it. It's possible that animals with much simpler brains, i.e. fish and insects, experience the physical sensation without suffering. I don't know if it's possible for people to do the same. Not entirely, I think, but it's something to aim for. I know that the techniques I use for processing pain change the way I experience it without affecting the physical sensations.

So what are these techniques? Nothing fancy, really. I direct my physical energy into my toes. All of the muscles that want to tense up, all the energy that wants me to move away from the pain, goes through me and comes out my toes, which flex up and down and wiggle madly. If I'm standing up, I stamp my feet. I've read that relaxed muscles are less likely to be injured, and hurt less, than tense muscles, but I can't say that I've noticed a big difference. I just find it's easier to remain in place if I'm not tensed up, and when I consciously relax my body, my mental and emotional states become more relaxed as well. And being mentally and emotionally relaxed is key to experiencing pain without suffering. I've tried relaxing my body totally, not even moving my toes, but that doesn't work for me. The wanting-to-move just builds up until all my muscles are tensed and I have to consciously re-relax. Wiggling my toes lets me keep the rest of me relaxed without constantly thinking about it.

Meanwhile, I keep reminding myself of two things. The first is very Zen: everything is temporary. The pain I'm experiencing at that moment won't last forever. In fact, it won't last long at all. I can endure another 10 seconds, and another 10 seconds after that, another minute, and then more minutes. But don't think about those minutes, just this one here. I can take another minute of this pain. And after a little while the pain becomes the a part of my existence. It is remarkable how quickly I get used to it, so that when the scene ends and the pain stops, it seems almost miraculous. Simply returning to not-being-in-pain feels wonderful.

The last part of my technique, the second thing I remind myself of, is that I've been in more pain than I am now. That doesn't always work, of course. Very, very occasionally, I experience something that really is the worst pain I've ever felt. I don't expect this technique to carry me through childbirth, for instance. But for everything else, I remember the time I was in the emergency room with a cut that, I found out later, went right into a nerve bundle on one of my fingers, right where all the nerves for my fingertip run together, before they branch out. After the shock of the injury wore off and before the doctor saw me, I was clenching my teeth so I wouldn't scream from the pain. Everything I've experienced since, from breaking my ankle to getting a cavity filled without anesthetic, has been less painful. When the pain seems unbearable, I compare it to the worst pain I've ever felt, and suddenly it doesn't seem so bad. *cue Julie Andrews*

Returning to the original question, none of those techniques need be connected in any way to BDSM. I've used them to get me through "real world" pain as well as scenes, and I quite possibly would be doing so even if I were completely vanilla. I think that BDSM has given me an advantage, though, because it's given me the opportunity to practice in controlled situations. Pain can be overwhelming; that's part of its appeal. It quiets the noisy, rambling part of the brain and focuses the mind. The trick is to teach the body to experience pain without triggering panic and suffering in the brain, and the best way to learn through practice, and the best practice is a good scene.

TopTastic

2009-07-08T19:59:00.004-05:00

I topped the hell out of Lechaise Friday night. Pure d/s, his preference, and we were in an altered state at the time.* We started with foot worship, and when I thought he'd done a good job, I let him move up to my ass. He dripped pre-cum on the carpet and touched himself without permission, though, so I had to stop the ass-worship in order to punish him with a good spanking. I gave him ten strokes (it's always ten, isn't it?) and then he had to complete the ass worship before I allowed him to worship my pussy. Once he had his face in my cunt, I let him stroke himself just enough to stay hard and ready to fuck me, which he would be allowed to do only if he made me come. Fortunately, Lechaise is very skilled at the cunnilingus. I came, and then Lechaise fucked me doggy style, which I LOVE after I've come, and makes him come pretty quickly.

*We've only ever played while sober before, partly for safety reasons and partly because I've never been able to get into top-space under the influence.

HOLY CRAP IT'S A POST!

2009-03-26T18:26:00.006-05:00

Well, there's a lot I haven't written about here, but let's skip all that for now and go straight to last Saturday's play party. Er, wait, I can't do that yet, because I haven't mentioned Bostonpup.

I first met Bostonpup at a play party where he was sitting on a couch being cuddled by Caner. I made every excuse I could to talk to Caner or just hang out around the couch to oggle them. Yeah, I'm pathetic.

Anyway, some months later, we struck up a friendship. He's slight of build, slightly shy, submissive, and I've never met a person who didn't think he was cute. If you suggest doing something painful to him, he makes a little puppy-dog face and says, "Oh, that's so mean, you wouldn't do that to me, would you?" in such a way that makes it almost impossible to resist doing whatever mean thing you'd suggested.

So a few weeks ago we decided to play together. I suggested an upcoming play party, and so on Saturday we did our first scene together. Bostonpup is (surprise!) into puppy play, which I like to do as the owner/trainer/human because it lets me go into my Mother Hen topspace. But I also wanted to tie him up and beat him. I couldn't tie up and beat a puppy, so we agreed to start with a bondage and flogging scene and then do some puppy play as his reward for letting me be mean.

I told him to take his shirt off, but I let him keep his jeans on. I started with the same facial bondage tie I used on Skunkie in my last post. The only play space available with enough open room for a flogging offered a pillory, which doesn't do much for me, but at least I could use it for tie-down points. I tied his hands using Two Knotty Boys' flogging cuffs (the facial bondage I used is also on that page) and started out gently with my suede flogger. Bostonpup is very expressive when he's being topped, which makes it a lot of fun for me. He whines, whimpers and yelps depending on how hard you hit him. I know my suede flogger is very gentle, though, so after a short warm-up I moved onto my "slightly less nice" leather flogger. It's short, which makes it good for small spaces, and has lots of tails that still have relatively sharp edges, so it's a combination of thuddy and stingy. I'd like to make it more thuddy, but the only way to do that is to gradually wear down the sharp edges by using it as much as possible so... *shrug* What's a top to do?

I introduced Bostonpup to each new flogger as I picked it up, and after Slightly Less Nice flogger, we moved on to Rosie, with leather rosebuds on her tails. She's my favorite flogger to receive because she's insanely thumpy, but her tails are also very long, which can make her hard to control. I worked up to a moderate strength and was considering going harder when I realized that, since Bostonpup was wearing jeans, I could be considerably harsher with his ass than his back. I gave both areas a pretty good workout before I put Rosie down. As I set her down, I noticed the brand new bag of clothespins in my bag, which I'd bought for our scene and completely forgotten about. "Oo, clothespins!" I said. Bostonpup suggested that it wasn't worth opening the whole bag just for him, but I disagreed. I didn't get too terrible with them, but I did put several down the underside of each arm, where the skin is nice and tender. Then I picked up my dragon's tail.

"This," I told Bostonpup, "is Mr. Meannie." He looked scared. "He's very excited because he hardly ever gets to play, but I'll try not to let him be too mean." It's a harsh item, so I didn't hit too hard with it, but I did use it to give the clothespins a few flicks, which drew some terrific whimpers from Bostonpup. I worked up to some pretty hard strokes on his ass and then paused to remove the clothespins. I thought I was being nice to Bostonpup by taking them off, but he didn't seem to appreciate it. I continued hitting his back and ass, working up to some very hard strokes on his ass, but never letting myself go all out. When it was about time for the scene to end, I started to put the dragon's tail down. I paused and picked it back up. I wasn't ready to stop just yet; I wasn't quite satisfied.

"We're almost done," I told Bostonpup, "but Mr. Meannie wants to hit you really hard for ten strokes."

"You should tell him no."

"I tried to, but he insists. I told him he could only have ten strokes; he wanted a lot more, but I told him only ten. You can do ten."

I gave him two or three huge whacks across the ass with a pause after each while he yelped and squirmed. The next two or three were a little lighter, but then I remembered that I only had a few strokes left, so I made them count. On the last stroke, I swung as hard as I could.

We combined aftercare with puppy play. I untied his hands but left the facial bondage on and put on his collar. I sat on the couch and petted him while he sat on the floor. A couple friends of ours were also at the party, also doing puppy play, so I put Bostonpup's leash on and walked him around the party until we bumped into them. The other owner and I chatted a bit while our puppies acted delightfully embarrassed to be seen by each other.

Finally, I taught him a few commands - sit, down, roll over - and ended the scene. We both had a great time.

What made it even better was when I checked in with Lachaise afterwards. He had been watching the whole time, staying within eyesight while we walked around the party, and I was concerned that he was feeling jealous. It was, after all, the first time I'd played with another man when he was there. But it turned out he was completely fine, and would've been fine even if I'd stripped Bostonpup nekkid or played with him longer. I have a wonderful boyfriend (but he should stop giving me ideas).

Two-fer

2008-08-30T09:32:00.002-05:00

I have two scenes to catch you up on. Like I said, my fingers have been itching to tie some rope lately, so Lachaise agreed to let me tie him up last Sunday. Lachaise isn't really into rope, though; as far as he's concerned, wrist and ankle cuffs are just as good and a lot faster. So the trick for me is to find something for him to enjoy while I'm enjoying tying him up. Actually, it's not that difficult. I just turned him towards the computer and put some porn on. Blatant plug: we both love Literotica's Video on Demand for all our porn-watching needs. I found some great gay bondage porn on there last night after Lachaise went to bed. But I digress.

It took a couple tries to find a way of tying Lachaise's wrists behind his back that was comfortable for him. In the past, that's ruined a scene for us, but this time we worked through it and found a tie that was good for him. Since I'd spent so much time on his wrists, I skipped the chest harness I'd been planning on and went straight to his ankles. I tied them together and tied the both of them to his wrists. After that, I was at a bit of a loss. We'd agreed to do a pure D/s scene – no s/m – and with him tied up, I could hardly order him to crawl around on the floor, or do much else. So I did what I could – I rolled him onto his back and sat on his face. When my legs got tired, I made him watch me masturbate. For the finale, I untied him and ordered him to bury his face in my pussy and jerk off to completion.

My second scene last week was with two of my friends, whom I'll call Skunkie and Kitty. Skunkie and Kitty are a couple (Skunkie's male, Kitty's female) I've known as friends for... gosh, about three years now, I think. We've only recently started playing together, though. Mostly I play with Skunkie while Kitty watches. He loves being tied up and has great reactions to all the mean things I do to him. He gasps and whines and struggles and is just a great bottom. He's also very flexible, so I put him into a full-on hogtie. I also tied this awesome piece of facial bondage that I learned last weekend. I used royal blue parachute cord, and it looked terrific. Once I had Skunkie bound, I really wasn't sure what to do with him. My entire focus had been on wanting to tie him up. Kitty and I tickled him for a while, which made him squirm and roll back and forth trying to get away from us, which made me laugh. I had a lot of rope with me, so I tied a chest harness on Kitty, and then one on myself. We took them off after a little while because they were pretty tight and got uncomfortable. I spanked Skunkie a bit and and punched his back several times, but I wasn't feeling particularly sadistic. Then I noticed some loose change on the floor and started putting coins between his toes. We all agreed that was weird and silly. Finally, I untied Skunkie to make it easier for he and Kitty to do sexy things to each other while I watched. I have the best friends ever.

Rope-horny

2008-08-24T00:52:00.002-05:00

I've been listening to a lot of the Ropecast at work on my headphones lately, and it's got me rope-horny. I've been re-reading bits of my Erotic Bondage Handbook, too, and my fingers have been itching to tie someone up. Lachaise and I are going to do a big scene tomorrow where I tie him up and dominate him, so I had the handbook and a piece of rope out this evening, planning and practicing my ties. (Don't tell Lachaise, but I'm going to try a hog-tie on him. I've been hog-tied once, but I've never put one on someone else. I'm psyched.) Anyway, I was dying to do some ropework, but Lachaise and I weren't ready to do the big scene yet, so I asked him, "Would it be all right if I tied myself up and gave you a blowjob?" He looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Of course! Are you sure you want to do the tying yourself? I could help." I agreed that I'd do most of the ties and ask him to help me tie my hands. I put two-column ties on my knees and ankles and tied a basic chest harness with long tails so Lachaise could tie my wrists behind my back. He did a good job of it. He's not naturally a rope guy, but he tied my wrists to the back of the chest harness, and tightened it up a bit when I told him it was too loose at first.

Giving him a blowjob turned out to be trickier than getting tied up. I'd planned on kneeling and sucking him off while he sat on the couch, but the couch proved to be too low. I had to bend over so far to get his cock that I was in danger of losing my balance and falling face-first into his crotch. That would've killed the mood, so we tried getting me onto the couch and having Lachaise stand. With my hands behind my back and my knees tied, getting onto the couch involved a lot of grunting and twisting and some help from Lachaise. We made it, but my mouth still didn't line up with his cock, and we couldn't find a position that was comfortable for both of us. By this time, we were both getting frustrated, but we threw a pillow on the floor and I knelt while Lachaise stood. That finally worked, but giving a no-hands blowjob was still harder than I'd expected. Lachaise let me take a break after a little while; he sat on the couch, pinched my tits and rubbed a mini-vibe on my clit. He tried a couple times to get it to stay in place while I blew him, but I was so wet that it kept slipping out of place. I finally found the sweet spot and finished Lachaise off. He untied my knees and ankles, but before we got to my wrists I asked, "Am I getting myself off or are you?"

"You are," he replied, so we took off the rest of the ropes as well. Then I retrieved my insertable vibe from the bedroom and picked up the rope again. Lachaise thought I was nuts for a moment - we'd just taken the ropes off - but I showed him that I was tying a genital harness to hold the two vibrators in place. With the insertable in my pussy and the mini on my clit, I writhed around until I came.

Warning!

2008-03-19T18:24:00.003-05:00

Hey, sorry about that extra adult content warning page you had to go through to get here. I was going through my blog settings and found a little checkbox for adult content that I swear wasn't there before, and I figured I'd better check it just in case someone finds my blog by accident and gets all upset about the kinky stuff. Anyway, I think you'll only have to put up with it once.

Groan…

2008-03-19T17:23:00.005-05:00

I dunno, folks. I know my friends (Hi!) are eager to read more dirty details of my sexy life, but the truth is, my life isn't very sexy right now. Except for the car Lachaise and I bought. Yay! No longer will we have to beg rides to and from play parties, or anywhere else. But play parties have been in short supply. Lachaise and I had a great one at our place some weeks ago - the first we've hosted at this apartment. We invited a couple friends of ours who hadn't been to a play party before, and they had a good time. Lachaise is much more comfortable than he used to be with the idea of me playing with other people, though I haven't actually done very much of that yet. I'm not sure Lachaise realizes how much his feelings about it have changed since we started dating; he used to be opposed to me playing with anyone else unless he was involved, but when I recently asked how he felt about me playing with the above-mentioned play-party virgins, his response was a very casual, "Sure, of course that's fine!" Anyway, if you hear about any good play parties, could you let me know?

Did you all know that March 14th is Steak and a Blow Job Day? Supposedly it's what guys get in exchange for putting up with Valentine's Day, but I'm not a Valentine's kinda gal in the first place, so we skipped the latter and only celebrated the former this year. Except instead of a blowjob, we 69ed. Lachaise loves 69ing. I like it, but I mostly do it for him. Having a cock in my mouth is so distracting that the cunnilingus doesn't feel as good, but if I try and concentrate on enjoying it, I forget to keep working on the cock. So we 69ed until Lachaise got off, and then he helped me get off. You know, I wish there were a word for 69ing that didn't involve trying to turn numbers into verbs. Even written out as sixty-nining it doesn't look right.

Can I stop hearing about the extramarital affairs of Elliot Spitzer and David Paterson yet? The extent of my apathy is so great that science has not yet invented a way to measure it. Call me when you have another politician who rails against homosexuality when he's not busy cruising for twinks and I'll pour us both a big glass of schadenfreude. Until then, here's some news for you: a lot of people have sex outside of marriage. A lot. I'm not saying people shouldn't aim for monogamy, but it'd be nice if everyone wasn't so shocked – shocked! – to find that married people sometimes have affairs.

I'll wrap this post up by asking, do you know what happens when you get Miss Jack drunk? She rolls around on her back and giggles, that's what, and little else. And eventually you have to give up on the threesome and put her to sleep in the guest bed so you and your boyfriend can have sex. It was like a tiny peek into parenthood.

Party

2007-11-27T22:40:00.000-05:00

Lachaise and I went to a play party Saturday evening. It was also attended by several of our friends, which was delightful. Lachaise and I had been planning on doing two scenes: one where he topped, and one where I topped. But we spent so much time talking with our friends and watching other scenes that before we knew it, we only had time for one scene of our own. It had been some time since I'd bottomed, so I wanted to take on that roll, and I invited Miss Jack to join Lachaise in topping me.

They were "supposed" to play Good Top Bad Top, but Lachaise wasn't very nice. He went after me with the floggers and my dragon tail (that thing hurts!) while Miss Jack attacked me with her many canes, culminating in a fiberglass rod that hurt like hell but left some nice marks:

When they were done with my back, they flipped me over and Miss Jack tortured my nipples with ease; they were very sensitive and even I laughed when she demonstrated, "I'm only going this hard!" on my stomach, where it felt like a gentle slap. Lachaise, meanwhile, had finally caught on to the Good Top bit and fingered me. A grand time was had by all.

Addendum

2007-11-15T13:15:00.000-05:00

Sometimes things change without me realizing it. After I posted last night, Lachaise read it on his computer and then came in to the kitchen where I was putting away dishes to clarify something. See, last time we'd talked about it – which was at least a few months ago, which was when I started writing that last entry – Lachaise upgraded a guy-guy-girl threesome from "never, ever" to "distant possibility," or at least that's how I understood it. Last night, he told me that it's a near certainty – just not yet. He's not comfortable with me having sex* with another guy yet, but eventually… well, we'll see how it goes. He even left open the possibility of double penetration, which I greatly enjoy in theory and pornography, but I'm not so sure about actually going through with. The logistics are difficult at best, and I'm not sure it's worth doing when I can get the same effect with Lachaise and a dildo (or even better, one of these). Real Live Double Penetration might be one of those things that's best left to fantasy.

*I'm working on that sex-defining post, really!

2007-11-14T20:05:00.000-05:00

Lachaise and I are mostly monogamous. I don't like to say that - to me, being monogamous is like being pregnant, either you are or you aren't. Still, while we're not strictly monogamous, other terms - polyamorous, open relationship, swingers - are equally misleading. Our relationship is based on monogamy, with a few narrowly defined exceptions.

We can play with other people, as long as we both know them, and they know us as a couple, and we're both present. We don't both have to be in the scene, but if one of us is, the other needs to at least be present.

I can kiss other girls as long as Lachaise is there. Lachaise can kiss anyone of any gender as long as I'm there, but as he's exclusively heterosexual, it works out the same. Presumably we each have veto power if we're not comfortable with our partner kissing a particular person, but that issue hasn't come up yet. (I'll have to raise it soon, to make sure we're on the same page.)

And now we come to the part that bugs me. Girl-girl-guy threesomes are okay (as long as we both like the woman and want to, of course) but guy-guy-girl threesomes are not. Well, it's not that they're not okay, just that it'll probably never happen, because Lachaise isn't comfortable with the idea. Now, when I think about it, I know that it's not as unfair as it seems. I'm bisexual, and I heartily enjoy the occasional threesome with another woman, so I'm not being asked to do anything I'm uncomfortable with. Lachaise, on the other hand, is 100% straight (despite my last birthday wish) and doesn't want me to have sex* with other men, so having a threesome with another man would be asking him to do something he's deeply uncomfortable with. But although my head sees that this makes sense, at a gut level the whole situation still feels very unfair to me, and sometimes it puts me in a bit of a bad mood. Especially when I dwell on it for too long. Like now. Damn.

*I'll write my next post about defining sex, and how I define it.

Quick Post

2007-11-01T20:06:00.000-05:00

Item 1: 50th post! W00t!
Item 2: Lachaise just fucked me in the ass! W00t!

BRAAINNSSS!!!!

2007-10-31T17:48:00.000-05:00

Well, I suppose it's only appropriate that my blog rise from the dead on Halloween. If you're wondering why it's been so long, I had work obligations and family obligations, but Lachaise and I nailed the lid on the coffin when we moved in together three months ago. We've been hosting friends fairly often, and spending every spare moment with each other or working on little projects around the apartment.

Miss Jack has been bugging me for another post for months, and I know she's been wanting me to reveal a particular little tidbit of information, so I won't make her wait any longer. Lachaise and I have had two wonderful threesomes guest-starring the very sexy Miss Jack. Threesomes were a carrot I'd dangled in front of Lachaise for some time, cocktease that I am. And then I dangled another one in front of him at a party this weekend, only to discover that our potential third was already with someone. *sigh* Poor boy. (I would like to add that I loved making Miss Jack come. Hot as Hell.)

A more recent development in our sex life occurred last week, when we started exploring anal play. We'd tried a couple times before – Lachaise is a devoted and unapologetic ass man, as I may have mentioned here previously. There were two problems, though, the more tangible of which is that Lachaise is exceptionally thick, and my ass is years out of practice. One or two abortive attempts revealed that it will take a little time and training to prepare Slot B for Tab A. Towards that end (heh) I ordered Extreme Restraints' anal trainer kit. The other problem was attitudinal. I love being on the giving as well as the receiving end of anal play, but my beautiful strap-on has lain unused, lo, these many months. When I'd first brought it up to Lachaise, he had announced that his ass was strictly off limits. Maybe our anal drought made him desperate, maybe it just took a while to build his level of trust, but he finally agreed to an I'll-show-you-mine-if-you'll-show-me-yours arrangement. We're taking it slowly, of course. So far, I haven't penetrated him, just rubbed and played over the opening of his ass while working his cock. Early results are positive, however; Lachaise said it feels great and gets him hard as hell. So who knows, maybe I have a budding ass slut on my hands. I can only hope.

If you're wondering about my anal progress, I started off with the medium-sized butt plug. By the time Lachaise worked it all the way in, my ass was so relaxed that the damn thing kept falling out when I moved around! It was really annoying, but eh, it bodes well for the future.

Some Bottoming Stories

2007-06-15T13:56:00.000-05:00

All right, it's been a while again, but this time, it's not for lack of material. With work, Lachaise, friends, family and parties, I just haven'thad time to sit down at the computer.

In fact, I've had a wealth of material - great scenes, good parties, and one bad party that was vastly improved by silent, illicit handjobs so the other attendees wouldn't catch on.

All the goodness started - or was prefaced - about four weeks ago, when a large portion of my family invaded for a graduation. As I also have several musical friends and spring is concert season, I spent about tow weeks meeting various obligations. When I was done, even Lachaise and I hadn't played for weeks and I couldn't wait to go to a play party, see my friends, and make some great scenes. When I thought about it, I realized I hadn't played with anyone but Lachaise since we started going out nearly four months prior. So when I got home the Friday before Labor Day and found out that all my roommates were going out of town for the long weekend, I called MIss Jack, Caner and Sophiste and invited them over for a party the next evening.

I asked Sophiste and Caner to bring their TENS unit; I thought I might bottom to Caner and ask him to show Lachaise how to use the TENS. In fact, neither Lachaise nor Miss Jack felt like bottoming, so I volunteered myself as Party Bottom, with the stipulation that I wasn't up to taking intense pain. We arranged the furniture so I could lie comfortably on the couch in the middle of the room, I stripped, and Caner tied me down. Lachaise put the TENS unit insertable into my pussy and Sophiste showed him how to use the controller. Miss Jack snapped, scratched and poked me with bamboo skewers, Sophiste was very mean to my breasts and put clips on my toes, and Caner played with the clips. There was no progression of warm-up, climax, cool-down, just a long, steady scene until my adrenaline ran out and the pain wasn't fun anymore. Done and tired, I slept well that night. (Night? I think it was four a.m. before Lachaise and I concluded our private activities and went to sleep.)

I'll skip discussion of the bad party and go right to a large play party we attended last weekend. I'm very particular about when I bottom at a party; I'll only bottom to someone I know well, and I'm reluctant to bottom in front of people who don't know me. Ever since we were at Paddles NYC, though, a thought's been burrowing in my brain: I want to not just bottom, but submit, to Lachaise at a large party, to embody my devotion to him. We agreed that he would top me at the party, and I was in subspace before our scene even began. Caner and Sophiste were at the same party and were kind enough to loan us their TENS unit. Lachaise stripped me down to my panties and clipped my wrist cuffs to the wall behind me, so that I was facing him. He used the TENS unit insertable again and teased my nipples. Then he unclipped my wrists, turned me around so I was facing the wall, and clipped me up again. Earlier in the evening, he'd said he wanted to flog me, and I asked if he would use my black leather flogger. Most people I've flogged prefer my suede flogger, and I'd only been flogged with the suede, so I wanted to find out what the leather one felt like. I really loved it, it was heavy and thumpy and when he was working in a steady rhythm, it felt great. Then he moved to heavier blows - ten, "count them out loud," with a rest period after every ten when he would fire up the TENS unit again. Those hard blows were much harder to take, especially when they landed two or three in quick succession. About halfway through the third series of ten, I knew I wouldn't be able to take much more. A few seconds later, blows seven and eight landed, something inside me broke (figuratively, I should add) and I was about to cry. I hid it from Lachaise, but he said I'd been such a good girl, he'd only give me one more. One more I could handle, though it pushed the tears closer to the surface. Then we were done.

"I need to come down now," I said quietly, still hiding my emotional state from Lachaise.

"Sure," he said, reaching for the insertable.

"No," I said, just slightly louder, "I need to come down now." He saw, then, that I was in a bit of a state and unclipped my wrists and held me tight for a long time. I got dressed, and he cleaned the insertable and returned it and the TENS unit to Caner. Then we cuddled on a couch while I came down. He felt terrible for making me cry, so I told him it was okay and that he hadn't done anything wrong. He'd pushed my limits, I'd been deep in subspace, and that made it both physically and emotionally intense. Eventually, the intensity and the tension was so great that one of the flogger's blows broke it and the tension snapped and released all those emotions.

More of Lachaise

2007-05-04T18:10:00.000-05:00

Whew, would you believe I spent a month working on that last post? A few spare minutes here and there, trying to remember details... it all adds up.

Well, time for another post. Lachaise and I have a little kink in our kink: it's much easier to play at his house, because he doesn't have roommates, but he doesn't have any toys, and all of mine are at my house. Of course things like rope, cuffs, and floggers are easily transported, but that requires me to remember when I wake up that I'll be going back to his house after work and pack accordingly. Not to mention that it's hard to get it all in one backpack, and things like my paddle and spreader bar just won't fit into anything I own. Neither of us has a car, and although it's slightly tempting, I don't think it would be a good idea to carry them on the bus. This is not to complain - we'll figure it out sooner or later - but to explain why we've had to figure out how to do great scenes without any toys.

Lachaise and I were getting ready to do a scene. He was in a bottomy mood, and I was feeling toppy but wasn't sure where to go with it, so I asked him if there was a particular kind of top he had in mind - my standard nurturing top role, or a cruel persona, or...? Cruel, he said. I was delighted, a little bored with my normal role, up for something different. Cruel, he said, disdainful, bored. I can do that, I said, grinning.

Lachaise has my copy of Sensuous Magic at his house. In addition to being a very good introductory book, it has a few pages of erotic fiction at the end of most chapters. I made Lachaise kneel on the floor and eat me out while I read two or three of my favorite stories. Shortly after we'd begun, I noticed his hand wandering southward. "You may not touch your cock unless I tell you to," I warned him. But a few minutes later, I noticed some suspicious activity.

"Are you touching your cock?" I asked. I wondered if he would tell me even if he was.

"Yes, Madam," said Lachaise.

I put my book down and cupped his face in my left hand while I slapped him with my right. He didn't seem adverse, so I continued slapping his face - not terribly hard - while I berated him for his willful disobedience.

For me, that was the highlight of the scene. It continued in the same vein, I gave him an additional spanking, continued to ignore him as he ate me out, read another story as I fucked him, slowly, sometimes not moving at all, just sitting on his cock. I finally let him come, but not while we fucked. I gave him a handjob.

"Please," he moaned, "I want to come inside you. Please."

"No. I want to see you come." Damn, I love watching him come. After he did, I made sure that the face-slapping had been okay - it had - and asked why he'd touched his cock right after I told him not to. Pure curiosity, it turned out; he wanted to find out what would happen if he did. A couple days later, I was still getting a buzz from that scene. "It felt like the ideal mistress," I told Lachaise. "I mean... not like that's what every mistress is supposed to be but..."

"Yeah," he agreed, "Like the quintessential mistress, the cliche of what a mistress is supposed to be."

We've used that character once again, so far. I think we may eventually name her, for simplicity's sake. The second scene was also good, but my headspace was a little off. I wasn't feeling as inspired or as playful as I did for the first scene, and I found myself getting too much into character. Or rather, the character was getting too much into me. I was disdainful, cruel and bored, which was good, but I was still me, not the character I was supposed to be playing. Am I making any sense to anyone but me? The first time I became another character, and it was great when she felt bitchy, but the second time I was feeling bitchy, but the feelings started to become genuine, rather than a role I was playing. I pulled back a bit, and I don't know if Lachaise even noticed the difference between the Cruel Mistress and Cruel Me.

I've never been good at boiling these things down into succinct lessons, but somewhere in this post there's something to keep in mind about headspace, I think.

Playing with Lachaise

2007-05-04T15:45:00.000-05:00

I'm going to write about playing with Lachaise for two reasons: 1)We've done some pretty good scenes and I owe it to my loyal readers 2)I haven't played with anyone else for a while.

We did a short scene at Sophiste and Caner's a few weeks ago. Lachaise's eagerness to use their St. Andrew's cross overcame his self-consciousness about playing in public, so I did a flogging to warm him up to a few hard strokes with the dragontail. While we played, the party was winding down early and the other guests left. Sophiste and Caner pulled up some chairs and settled in at the back of the room to watch our scene, but Lachaise didn't know that. He'd heard everyone else saying their goodbyes and thought that we were imposing by staying late, so when I told him to tell me when he was ready for the hard strokes, he asked for them right away.

We talked about the scene on the drive home. I was disappointed that it had ended so soon, so Lachaise explained the why he'd been eager to do so. I got annoyed with him for thinking too much, he got annoyed with me for being annoyed and reminded me that he hadn't been to one of Caner and Sophiste's parties before, so he didn't know that the parties usually go longer and we were entertaining, rather than imposing on, our hosts. And then he said, "Remember, this is all new to me." In fact, I had forgotten his lack of experience. My annoyance disappeared and I apologized for it.

The next scene worth writing about was one I'd been planning for some weeks. I told Lachaise the idea I was building it around, but hadn't shared any particulars. The idea, by the way, was, "I want to tie you up and see how long it takes until you're a pathetic heap begging me to let you come." Lachaise was eager, to say the least. Unfortunately, finding enough time for it was a problem. It got put off week after week, but we finally set aside a Saturday mid-day for it. We played it out at his apartment rather than mine. He hasn't any roommates, and I didn't want to play out this scene in a bedroom. His living room worked well, with bright sunlight coming in through the curtains. I collared him - unless it's spontaneous, we start our scenes with a collaring - and tied him to one of his kitchen chairs set in the middle of the room. I didn't blindfold him at first, as I was starting with some fancy cock and ball bondage and wanted him to be able to appreciate it. I did a nice braid, neither of us was in headspace yet, I was easing into the scene. When I decided to start in earnest, I took off the braid. I was being especially careful not to pinch the skin of Lachaise's cock as I took off the cord, so of course I accidentally pinched him anyway. He yelled, "OW!" and I was so upset I nearly cried and had to take a moment to regain my composure. Funny, we both accept the occasional painful mistake during a CBT scene (I'm still learning, after all) but I was trying so hard to create a great scene around an overload of pleasurable sensation that that mistake nearly undid me.

I did collect myself, however, and really started the scene. I noted the time and made some off-hand remark about it, "Better get started," or something.

"Why? How much time were you planning on taking?" asked Lachaise.

"Oh, an hour or so," I replied.

"An hour?" I laughed; the shock on his face was delightful.

I can't recall the exact sequence of events anymore, but there was rabbit fur involved, and oral sex, stuffing my tits in his mouth, making him watch me masturbate, letting him lick and suck on my fingers afterwards, standing over him with my pussy just touching his cock, squeezing and slapping his shaft just so. I untied him from the chair and bound his wrists behind him, so that they fit in the small of his back when I made him lie down on the bed. I put a pillow under his upper back to take some of the pressure off his wrists. (Aside: This is a position that sounds uncomfortable, and I think I read a warning against it in some book-or-other, but in my experience, it's rather comfortable, as long as the wrists aren't crossed.)I also tied his ankles together, to stop him from moving around too much and make it more challenging for him not to come until I gave him permission. I climbed on top of him and eased his trial by smothering his face with my pussy. I stroked Lachaise's cock while he ate me out; eating pussy is usually enough to keep him hard, but I didn't want to take any risks. As a final test of his endurance, I fucked Lachaise until I came before letting him come. At which point it's important to note that I'd already come once when I masturbated earlier, and that (perhaps I've already mentioned this in another post) I'm not usually multi-orgasmic. Poor Lachaise's begging was so hot, though, it pushed me over the edge (pardon the cliche, I'm over-eager to finish this post). Then, finally, I let him come. I think it was the most intense orgasm I've seen him have. I noted the time on his bed-side table: he'd been hard for a straight hour-and-a-quarter. That was a damn good scene.

Still Catching Up

2007-03-09T23:44:00.000-05:00

Much to my chagrin, I have yet to devise a suitable pseudonym for my boyfriend. I hereby dub thee... Lachaise.

So a couple weeks ago, Lachaise and I went to a play party. It was his first play party, we were easily the youngest people there, and I only knew a few of the other attendees. It had a lot of potential to become awkward, but it wasn't. We spent most of the evening just wandering here and there, checking out other people's scenes and munching on the extensive and delicious refreshments. By the time we were ready for our own scene, the primo spot was taken. We found a semi-private area where Lachaise was comfortable and began. While he undressed, I took my toys from my bag and laid them out neatly on the floor. When we were both ready, I collared him and gave him his instructions: he was to address me as Madam, and I instructed him on how to let me know if the ropes were too tight or if something became too painful. ("That pinches a bit, Madam" and "May I catch my breath, Madam?" respectively. And I must admit to stealing the wording of the second phrase from Graydancer. I feel a bit like a plagarist, but it is an awfully good phrase.)

I cuffed Lachaise's wrists and ankles and blindfolded him so wouldn't be distracted by anyone who came by to watch the scene. He had admitted to me several days prior that he'd never been in subspace before, and my personal goal for the evening - besides having a hot scene - was to get him there. Once he was collared and cuffed, I put a basic tie on his cock and balls, just a rope cockring and a little rope corset down his scrotum to stretch the skin tight over his balls. I couldn't resist playing with the fun bits just a little while I was down there, but then I returned to my plan, which called for starting the scene with impact play and moving into CBT later. I placed Lachaise on the room's bed on his hands and knees and pushed him around until his back had the best arch I could get out of him. Once I was satisfied with his presentation, I began with some spanking. Just enough to warm Lachaise's ass. Then I moved on to the floggers. He was at a decent height and angle for flogging, as long as he kept his back arched so his upper back was angled towards me. The first time I flogged Lachaise, he only really enjoyed the suede flogger. I was prepared to keep to that one flogger again, but after a long warm-up with the suede, he responded well to the leather flogger and took a long flogging from it. In between floggers, and at a couple points when the strokes got intense, I gave him a short break and rubbed him down while wearing my rabbit-fur mittens. At the time, I worried that those breaks might pull him out of subspace by interupting the rhythm of the scene, but in retrospect, I think I would've had to stop earlier without them.

When Lachaise finally asked to catch his breath, I moved back to the suede flogger and then rubbed him down with the rabbit fur again. I helped him stand up again (because he was wearing the blindfold and unsure of his surroundings) and snapped his ankle cuffs to a spreader bar that I'd brought along. I locked his wrist cuffs behind his back. Then, I spent a very long time doing painful things to his cock and balls. I whipped them a little bit with my short rubber flogger, but that seemed too intense, so I worked on some sensation play instead. I have a small oval of plastic that has lots of little plastic teeth covering one side and a finger-sized loop on the other; I bought it in Walgreen's years ago, and I'm pretty sure it's intended as a comb for very short hair, but I like to use it for sensation play. I rubbed it all over Lachaise's dick and the tight skin over his balls, and I ran my fingernails gently over his balls as well. I held his cock while I slapped it and felt it jump after impact. Due to the constriction of the ropes, his cock was soon very hard, large, and sensitive. I teased him about it, about enjoying the CBT, told him that some day I'd tie his cock up like that and fuck it. I kept up the sensation play for a while, and then I took off the ropes to restore circulation and loosen up some skin for the next part of the scene: clothespins. I keep a large supply of wooden clothespins in my toy chest and I put half a dozen of them along the underside of Lachaise's cock, several more on his balls, and one on each of his nipples, as well. He doesn't like much pain on his nipples, so when he accepted the clothespins there easily, I felt sure he'd gone into subspace. I left those on his nipples more-or-less alone and concentrated on flicking and teasing the others. I played nice with his now semi-soft cock and told him that as he got harder, the skin would pull tighter and the clothespins would become more painful. He became erect anyway and I told him how pretty the clothespins looked, standing perpendicular to his dick and fanned out decoratively. Around this time, a few people passed by and we heard one of them compliment our scene, which further turned on Lachaise.

I took the clothespins off and began the final, tease-and-denial portion of the scene. I instructed Lachaise to tell me when he was close to coming and began sucking and stroking his cock. When he said he was close, I continued for just a few seconds and then pulled his balls away from his body and slapped them and his cock hard several times. When I felt his cock soften just slightly, I started sucking him again. I went through the cycle three times and was considering how and when, exactly, to end the scene when I slapped or pinched his balls in just the wrong spot. Lachaise gasped and winced badly and asked to catch his breath. I asked if he wanted to end the scene, and he said no, he could keep going, but I realized that I had come out of headspace and was ready to stop, so I did. I removed Lachaise's blindfold, unsnapped his ankles and unlocked his wrists. Then he put on his boxers and we sat together on the bed for a while, coming down, while I slowly uncuffed and uncollared him.

Catching Up

2007-03-05T13:56:00.000-05:00

This post is long overdue; I blame my new job, my over-active social life, and the flu. But now I'm on vacation for a few days, visiting my dad at the old homestead, so I can finally catch up with a few projects, this among them.

Let me begin by going back a few weeks, to a play party at Sophiste and Caner's place. Let me also introduce a new character, whom I'll be calling Topher. Topher is a handsome young man who's been attending parties for the past few weeks. He's usually a top, but has been bottoming lately at the parties. There's always an excess of tops at the parties, so even those of us who are mostly toppy have been bottoming a lot, just so there can be any scenes at all. Topher also has pierced nipples, which I have a tendancy to fawn over. Well, not fawn over so much as torment.

So four weekends ago now, Miss Jack and I got stuck listening to a long discussion about cars. As our eyes started rolling back in our heads, I quietly suggested that we go play. Topher noticed and followed us. He had a new flogger with him and he was wondering if I would flog him with it so he would know how it feels. I couldn't have been happier to oblige, so Miss Jack and I tied him to the St. Andrews cross and she started working on his front while I warmed up his back. He had a deerhide flogger, and I had my suede and cowhide floggers with me, but of course I mostly used his. Topher's back responded very well to the flogging; his skin turned a nice, even pink color and the pores opened up. When Miss Jack wanted a turn at his back, I reluctantly ceded my post. Miss Jack was mainly, as I recall, using her little rubber flogger on Topher's back, and I ran a Wartenberg wheel in paths across his chest and arms. He had already felt the business end of Sophiste and Caner's violet wand that evening, so he had requested that we keep things on the gentle side for this scene. I tried not to torment his nipples too much. That was just as well, as Miss Jack was being quite mean to his back. Unfortunately, time has already faded my memory, and I don't remember what she was doing to him when he started to cry.

That stopped the scene in short order, and Miss Jack and I made nice while we talked about crying in-scene. Miss Jack spoke from experience about pushing past the threshold from pain that is extremely unpleasant and will make her safeword out in short order and even stronger pain that she welcomes because it makes her cry and triggers a cathartic experience. Topher didn't want to stop the scene yet, so Miss Jack stepped back while I continued flogging him. Then, he said that he wanted to cry. Miss Jack rejoined us and began beating Topher with the bottom of her slipper, of all things. That made him cry in short order, and this time Miss Jack kept going until he asked her to stop. We untied Topher, wrapped him in a blanket, and I cuddled with him while he came back to himself. That was my first experience with crying in-scene, so I was equally glad of the chance to come down from topping and re-establish myself as a caring person.

Later that evening, Miss Jack asked if I would flog her. She can take a great deal of intensity, so I brought out my dragon tongue. We had also talked some more about cathartic scenes, and I could tell that she wanted to cry as part of the scene. She knelt on the floor in front of me, resting her head and arms on a bed. Topher also sat on the bed and talked quietly to Miss Jack throughout the scene. I think we all knew it was going to be intense. I warmed Miss Jack up with my suede and leather floggers. She hardly reacted to the blows, so I was eventually using the strongest strokes I know. I initially stepped up from the suede to the leather flogger because my arms was getting sore and I wanted to give it a break by using gentle strokes with a more intense flogger. I was concerned that my arm would get too tired and I would have to stop the scene, but the soreness went away after a while and I was able to focus on what I was doing instead of what I was feeling. When I moved up to the dragon tongue, I started out with gentle blows and flicks. I'd only used that toy a couple times before, and it was too intense for my partners to take more than a few strokes. I had certainly not explored the upper limits of its intensity, but Miss Jack was still hardly reacting to it, so I kept gradually increasing the intensity of the blows I was giving her until I was inundating her with the most intense blows I could manage. It was after a little while of this that she started crying, and I was glad that Topher was at her head to take care of her. I stopped a little while later, Miss Jack moved onto the bed and pulled a blanket over herself, and I sat beside the bed, petting her while she cried and Topher held her.

Both of those scenes were very intense, both physically and emotionally. Miss Jack's particularly so, maybe because I was aware of the personal issues in her life which were feeding it. Topping in a scene like that is humbling. I feel all the burden and the honor of the trust that the bottom is placing in me, and I felt myself drawing on all my technical experience as a top and my emetional experience as a bottom, a top and a human being to make the scene successful. I think it also speaks volumes about the quality of Caner and Sophiste's parties and the quality of people there that we were able to execute those scenes successfully. Large play parties can be a lot of fun, but I can't imagine carrying out a scene of that emotional intimacy in front of any group larger than a few friends. (I hope this post still sounds good when I've sobered up. If it doesn't, let this be a lesson, people - don't drink and blog.)

Possibly the Weirdest Dream Ever

2007-02-21T21:45:00.000-05:00

I actually had this dream a long time ago, but it's such a great one, I have to post it. I dreamed that my boyfriend and I were driving to visit his parents. We were passing through green rolling hills dotted by mcmansions. One of them was his parents' house. They weren't home yet, so we let ourselves in and went upstairs. My boyfriend went into the bathroom to take a shower, and I went into his bedroom, which was right across the hall. I was really horny and I wanted to join my boyfriend in the shower, but I thought he would be too embarrassed to have shower sex in his parents' house. In his bedroom, I thought I saw something under the bed, so I got down on my hands and knees to see what it was. It was me! That me crawled out from under the bed and I realized that my conciousness could switch back and forth between the two me's at will, but it could only be in one body at a time. Being horny, the two me's took advantage of the situation and started making out. The me I was making out with was doing something weird with her tongue, so my conciousness switched bodies to find out what it was. I remember thinking, "Oh, that's what it is!" and then I woke up. The memory of making out with myself was so distinct that I couldn't get it out of my head for days.

I Have a Boyfriend!

2007-02-16T14:09:00.000-05:00

Oh, sure, I've dated a lot of guys, but the last one who heard me call him my boyfriend broke up with me a few days later. I haven't had a boyfriend since March, so I was girlishly excited on Valentine's Day when my latest beau said that not only could I call him my boyfriend, he was already going to ask me if he could call me his girlfriend.

Now I need to figure out a good blog name for him. Something good, but...what if things don't work out? Jas came from Jas. Hook, which is how Captain Hook signed his name in Peter Pan, but now Jas and I are broken up and that's an awesome blog name that I'll never get to use again. I think my new guy's going to be around for a while, but that still doesn't help me think of a good name. Give me a little more time; I'll think of something.

Adam, I'm Madam

2007-02-14T08:07:00.000-05:00

Dominant women come with a certain default setting: unless we say otherwise, our title is Mistress. Through long and frequent use within the BDSM community, that word carries quite bit of power and respect. Nonetheless, I don't care to hear it applied to me. I don't mind seeing it in print, but I don't like the sound of the word itself. The S's hiss, the T creates a vocal stop right in the middle, and the TR can be a tricky sound to make, especially for someone who's in an altered mental state. It just doesn't flow.

Once I'd figured out exactly what I don't like about Mistress, I started trying to find a word that suited me. Among the words I considered was Lady - as in Lady of the Manor, or Lady of the house. That was exactly the kind of minor nobility I was looking for in a title, but there were three problems with it. As a word, it still doesn't quite flow; in common American usage, it has a casual - if not rude - connotation; and every time I hear it, I can't help hearing Jerry Lewis in my head, too. I considered as many words as I could think of, and I even browsed around Thesaurus.com for a while looking for new ones. I did find a new word that I liked: Inamorta. It flows, it sounds exotic, and I like the connotation of courtly love, which is the history and heart of female domination. I don't like the connotation of romantic love, though, because it's inappropriate to most of the scenes I do, and I think it's too long and complicated to ask a sub to use in-scene. That's all a shame, because it is an awesome word. I'm going to set it aside for later use.

I spent a long time lying in bed at night, considering and reconsidering word after word. I'm going to go with Madam. I'm not big on the woman-who-runs-a-bordello meaning or the D in the middle, but it still flows pretty well, it's easy to say, and it's respectful.

Unintentionally Kinky Website of the Month

2007-02-12T23:25:00.000-05:00

Climax Metal - Premium Shaft Collars & Rigid Couplings. I just keep laughing at this site. Are they trying to sound kinky, or are they just not paying attention? (Their shaft collars are advertised as "Effective on hard and soft shafts." I mean, come on!) Either way, I bookmarked their site under my Shopping folder. Talk about pervertibles!

Stupid Brain

2007-02-11T22:40:00.000-05:00

I have a stupid brain. Well, not stupid, just annoying. It's the kind of brain that seems pretty common in women and allowed me to explain to male friends, "She wants his girlfriend to hate her, because if she hates her, that means she sees her as a threat, and she wants to be seen as a threat." (I hope you can follow that; it's a very twisty brain.) If this brain merely allowed me to understand the way other women think, it wouldn't be so bad, but of course it also gives me my own streaks of insecurity, passive-aggressiveness and paranoia (IP-AP) that I have to keep in check. I can't stand IP-AP women. Experience and common sense go a long way towards keeping me sane and reasonable, but sometimes - especially in the early stages of a relationship - I get a little IP-AP attack.

I guess I just have to acknowledge that it happens and focus on the best way to deal with it. If I keep it to myself and don't say anything, I usually end up getting the reassurance I need to get over it, but in the meantime it gets worse and I feel like crap. Option two is to act on my feelings, but like I said, I hate IP -AP women, so that's out. I'm testing out option three: tell the guy I just started dating how I feel and ask straight up for reassurance. I feel like I'm taking a risk in doing so, but for heaven's sakes I'm not dating immature guys anymore, I'm pretty sure he can handle a little female emotion. I'm a little embarrassed, too, to admit that I get IP-AP sometimes, but I'd like to think that I'm not so immature myself anymore and can deal with my feelings like an adult.

Appended Monday, February 12, 2007

And sometimes, the IP-AP isn't so paranoid after all. It turns out that my sense that Jas wasn't into me was correct, and we broke up. Well, shit.

Dreamy

2007-02-10T14:08:00.000-05:00

An old boyfriend told me about a dream he had recently:

Some chick I was apparently dating had you over to "fix him so he is my slave all weekend." And you were like "I can do that." It was some hypno thing you were going to do, and I said "Wait, let me make sure I don't have anything important to do!" and I don't remember anything after that.

*laughs* That post-hypnotic amnesia's a bitch.

Things I Would Like to Train My Submissive to Do

2007-02-05T22:31:00.000-05:00

Braid my hair the way I like it - really tight. "It's okay, you can pull harder. Pull harder!"

Wield a flogger. I'd like to get a better sense of what my own floggers feel like.

Use a singletail. I'd like to get a singletail at some point, and when I do, I'll want to know what I'm doing to my poor sub.

Apply lotion to my back. Admittedly, this doesn't actually require any training, but it's still something I'd like to have a sub do for me, so I don't spend all winter walking around with dry, itchy shoulder blades. And if the sub does a good job, I have some fun parts that need lotion, too.

Give a good blowjob. I know a few guys who are interested in "forced" bisexuality scenes, but there's no way I'm letting any sub of mine get near someone else's cock until he knows what he's doing. After all, I'm not the one who's supposed to be humiliated.

Tie me up comfortably and securely.

Get hard on command. I figure if a female sub can be trained to come on command, I should at least be able to train a guy to get an erection when I tell him to.

Make me hot cocoa the way I like it.

Serve me hot cocoa in bed on a cold winter night.

Read to me in bed while I drink my hot cocoa.

Navel-Gazing on Head-Giving

2007-02-04T19:09:00.000-05:00

Normally I love giving blowjobs, but in the last few weeks, they've lost some of their luster. Not that I've stopped giving head, but it's taken on a minor role in my sexual play, rather than being the main event, and I don't enjoy it as much as I used to. I think the reason why is tied in with the fact that I've been feeling selfish in bed lately. Why I've been feeling selfish is another question that I should try to answer, but like so many things, the cause of the symptom is easier to find than the cause of the cause. Maybe I'm just spoiled, with so many great play partners. They've indulged me in a lot of my favorite kinds of play lately. As a result, I'm more comfortable and confident in my dominance than I've been in years, but I'm also thinking more about my own desires than my partners'. I've long been of the opinion that skills can be learned, but the real mark of a good lover is greater focus on their partners' pleasure than their own. Obviously, I need to refocus.

My New Guy

2007-01-31T20:00:00.001-05:00

Last night I had my fourth date with... I think I'll call him Cap. Hmm, no, I don't think that suits him. Jas, that works. Now, I realize that four dates sounds like no big deal, but it's more dates than I've been on with any one person in the last several months. Huzzah!

Jas doesn't have much experience with kink. In a couple instances, I've decided not to date guys for that very reason, guys who were interested in kink but didn't have any experience and weren't sure where to start. I've put in my time with newbies, and I want someone who knows what they want. Which is why I don't mind that Jas doesn't have much experience - he knows what he wants, he just hasn't done it much before.

Last night, I gave Jas his first experience with impact play, aside from a little light spanking. I used my suede and cowhide floggers and eventually my new toy. We played a little game I made up called Switch. I started with a little rope. I tied his hands in front of him and made a chest harness that restrained his upper arms. Then I tied up his cock and balls, blindfolded him, and it was time for the game to begin. Switch goes like this: I start flogging his back and ass, gradually getting harder and harder. When he's had enough, all he has to do is say, "Switch." When he does, I'll stop, turn him around, and start hurting his cock and balls instead. When he can't do any more of that, he says, "Switch" again and I go back to flogging his backside. For our first game, I gave him three Switches. I also couldn't resist taking several breaks to tease his nipples, squeeze his throat and make sure his cock was hard. (I know, I know, I'm too nice.)

Jas did really well, especially considering how little experience he's had. The poor boy had half a dozen clothespins on and off and back on his cock for quite some time before he switched out. Mmm, thanks, Jas!

Fetish Fair Fleamarket Weekend Part 3

2007-01-29T13:09:00.000-05:00

Sunday was my shopping day. I also reconnected with some old friends, which was of course delightful. I didn't have much money to spend, so I examined the wares at each booth before deciding what to buy. It was a difficult decision. I found a couple of books I've been eyeing, but I really wanted a toy. Something painful. I would've loved a singletail, but it was out of my price range. The floggers were very tempting, but also out of my price range, and I wanted something I didn't already have. Just as the Flea was closing, I found this:

It was still a bit out of price range, but the vendor gave me a slight discount, so I broke my own rules and spent a few dollars more than I should've. It's made of thick bullhide and has a good weight to it. There were several other vendors selling similar toys, but most of them used suede or another thin, soft leather and had little weight in the handle. I like the toys I swing to be hefty. I talked to the vendor about the leather it's made of and how to take care of it, but I forgot to ask him what it's called. Does anyone know?

Addendum: I bought it from Details Toys, but they don't list it on their website. Dang.

Further update: I e-mailed them, and apparently they're calling it a dragon's tail. Awesome, I love dragons.

Fetish Fair Fleamarket Weekend Part 2

2007-01-29T01:17:00.001-05:00

After the Flea, Sophiste and Caner and I went to a play party. We'd heard it was going to be insanely crowded, but actually the crowd was scant. There was a dearth of people we knew, and none of us had the energy to try and meet someone new to play with. I've been feeling exclusively toppy lately, but I started to think about bottoming to Sophiste and Caner. Although they're very sadistic, we're good friends, and I knew they would respect their limits. I didn't want to bottom at the party, though. I want to build a repuation as a good top in the hopes of attracting some playful bottoms. Since most of the people at the party didn't know me, I didn't want to give the wrong impression.

As we left the party - early, and without having played - Sophiste jokingly asked if I would be interested in coming home with Caner and her for some evil fun. I considered for a moment and answered that in fact, I was interested. We spent quite a while negotiating the generalities of the scene, what I did and didn't want to do, what would get me into headspace and what would take me out of it. After the negotiations, Sophiste and Caner began to prepare the play space, and I went to the bathroom to prepare myself. When we entered the play space together, I was very aware that Sophiste was walking behind me and that we had negotiated for a take-down scene. Sure enough, she attacked me from behind. I fought hard, even long after there was any chance of getting away. I was very deep inside my combative headspace, and I had to hold myself back just a little. I always want to hold back a little when I'm doing a take-down or simulated rape scene because I need to believe that I could've escaped if I'd really, really had to. (Even if it's not true.) At the same time, I was really having a lot of fun. There were a few times that I almost laughed.

I had my hands cuffed and locked behind my back and my ankles cuffed and locked to a telescoping spreader bar. I was flipped over onto my back, and I wriggled my wrists around in the cuffs until they were tucked comfortably flat in the small of my back. Then my tits were tortured - pinched, pulled, squeezed, twisted, clamped, poked, slapped and smacked. Fuck, that hurt. Sophiste was doing most of the owie stuff while Caner was up at my head, doing breathplay with me. Or to me, more like. I first explored breathplay in high school, but it's been years since I've found someone who was willing to do it with me.

The both of them kept trying to make me say something coherent from time to time, not very successfully. I don't do well with words when I'm deep in headspace. Anything beyond "yes" and "no" is a real struggle.

When they were done with my breasts, Sophiste moved down to my cunt and thighs. They received the same rough treatment, plus blows from a truncheon, and then two electrodes were attached to my labia. Caner and Sophiste enjoy electrical play, and I was nervously eager to experience their TENS unit. I was worried that it would become too intense, but I really enjoyed it, especially the longer, sustained current.

After the scene, my nipples were so sore that even simple movements hurt them. Caner, Sophiste and I examined the marks on my body. The bruises on my arms, we concluded, were caused by Sophiste's fingers, while the red bars on my breasts came from wooden skewers and the bruises on my thighs came from the truncheon.

Fetish Fair Fleamarket Weekend Part 1

2007-01-28T23:35:00.000-05:00

I spent all day yesterday and today at the Fetish Fair Fleamarket. Unfortunately, it was inaccessible by public transit, but I have some great friends who were kind enough to give me rides there and back. Thanks, guys!

Saturday I managed to get to three classes - one on male anatomy, one on using short singletail whips, and one on rope body harnesses. The male anatomy class was more basic than I was hoping for. Considering the crowd, I thought that it was unnecessary to go over things like how to stimulate the shaft and balls. The instructor also went over beginning anal play, which some people seemed to appreciate. Considering that the class was titled "Male Anatomy," I was really hoping for some detail about the inner workings of the cock and balls and how not to do any permanent damage when I'm being mean to them. Oh, well. I did get something out of it - when I was complaining about it to Sophiste, she offered to loan me her copy of Family Jewels. I've been wanting to read it for a while now, so that I can safely move beyond basic tying and gentle slapping of the naughty bits. Yay!

The singletail class was great. The instructor, Mel, was very good, and even though I didn't try throwing a whip in the class, I did learn how to do a few basic strokes and how to pick out a whip. I was surprised to hear that Mel really likes nylon whips. They're much cheaper than leather whips, easier to care for, and they can be cleaned.

The rope body harness class was taught by Midori. I'm a big fan of hers, but I'd never seen her in person before. She was terrific - an excellent instructor who brought a lot of humor to the class. I learned two new body harnesses, but I had to leave early because I was volunteering at another part of the Flea. That took up most of the rest of my time that day, except for a few minutes before the vendors had to close when Miss Jack gave me a break.

Excuse me for a moment here while I get all fan-girly, because I went over to Monk's booth and ended up chatting with him! He and Alex complimented me on some jewelry I was wearing and I confessed to Monk that I'm a huge fan of his blog. He was interested in the fact that I'm a graphic designer, (even though there must be tons of graphic artsy folk amongst the kinky crowd) so I gave him my card. Squeal! Monk has my card. I would love to do some work for him.

To be continued...

Keeping Toasty

2007-01-25T14:18:00.000-05:00

Good goddamn, it's cold! Which makes it all the larger pain in the ass not to have a car. Waiting for the bus in 15 degrees? Not fun. But it was totally worth it last night to get to and from Toast's goth and fetish night to meet Questioner. Q is heavily involved in the Boston scene and teaches rope bondage classes. Q agreed to help me improve my skills if I would tie him up. As far as I'm concerned, it's a win-win situation. Q showed me how to make a rope bar - which I'd been shown once before, months ago, but had since forgotten. He also went over some techniques for making my bondage difficult to escape. Then, with some help and prompting, I tied him up. A couple people complimented me on my work, which made me immensely pleased with myself. Here's what it looked like:

I have a date this evening, and I can't wait to get my hands - and my ropes - on him!

Anybody Seen My Card Reader?

2007-01-23T12:44:00.000-05:00

You've probably noticed that I haven't posted any pics in a while. The problem is, a few weeks ago, we cleaned house. In the course of cleaning up, somebody moved the card reader that I use to get my photos from my camera to my computer. I've looked everywhere, and I can't find it. That by itself is annoying but not prohibitive - I have other ways to get the photos off the card - but my memory card was still in the reader, and it's the only one I have. So now I'm out of luck until I can buy a new memory card, and that's completely out of the question at the moment because I can't afford it. So until I at least get a full-time job, I'm afraid I'm stuck with a text-only blog. Sorry, folks.

What It All Comes Down To

2007-01-17T16:39:00.000-05:00

Although you wouldn't know to look at it, I didn't start this blog intending it to be merely a titillating recountal of my scenes and sex life. Today, I feel reflective. I'm not a particularly deep person; I have no idea why I'm kinky, and I don't care that I don't know. But now and then, I do try to sort out some of the peripherals, because it's interesting and keeps my mind limber. Puzzling out my kinks and how they relate to each other is one of the latest exercises, and I think I've worked on it long enough to start putting it down on paper (or pixels, as it were).

It started out innocently enough. I was just trying to enumerate my kinks, put them down into a mental list. But I ran into trouble right away. I was working backwards, trying to cut everything down to basics, to identify the deep kinks that underlie the things I enjoy. I like men with long hair, but that's not the real kink. It's derived from my hair fetish and my fondness forfemme guys. But I like femme guys because I like gender play and submissive men, and femme guys just seem more submissive than butch guys. (I'm not going to get into the obvious but complex discussion of traditional gender roles, my own upbringing, and I apparently still associates femininity with submission.) So from an aesthetic preference for men with long hair, I've rooted out a hair fetish and kinks for gender play and submissive men. That's one of the easier ones, though.

I got really stuck when I tried to puzzle out my bondage kink. Is it its own kink, or is it derived from kinks for struggle andnonconsensual play? For that matter, do I only enjoy struggle because I like nonconsensual play? Struggling against bondage is sometimes just a release of physical energy, without any overtones of nonconsensuality. I hate having to hold still when I'm playing the masochist. So does that negate the bondage-struggle-nonconsensual connection? In those situations, the bondage isn't a turn-on, it's merely utilitarian. I'm using the word kink to mean something that turns me on, so if something doesn't turn me on, then ipso facto it's not a kink. So the fact that bondage and struggle aren't always related to nonconsensual play is irrelevant, because in those situations they don't turn me on, and therefore aren't kinks. I think that bondage and struggle, as my kinks, can be traced back to a deeper kink fornonconsensual play.

So when it's all broken down, what really turns me on? Here's the current list.

hair

rope bondage - considered separately from bondage because it has tactile and aesthetic appeal apart from its utilitarian use

struggling

dirty talk

sadism

nonconsensual and rape play

dominance and submission

gender play

guy-on-guy action

threesomes and group sex

fantasy fulfillment - it took me a while to figure this one out, but fulfilling other people's fantasies really turns me on

Satisfaction

2007-01-14T22:59:00.000-05:00

Just a quick note to say that yes, I did get out the rest of my scene energy last night. Miss Jack and I co-topped Pet at a very small play party and Sophiste and Caner's. We got started later than I would've liked, but we had a good time. The space was a bit tight, and at one point Miss Jack and I got confused about who was standing where. She gave me a playful swat on the ass with her cane, I returned the favor with my flogger, and suddenly the two of us were jumping and twisting and yelping and laughing as we each tried to avoid getting hit while landing blows on the other. Caner and Sophiste laughed at us, but poor Pet was kneeling on a chair facing the wall and couldn't turn his head 'round to watch because I'd tied his balls to his collar.

Pet drove me home and we talked about the scene in the car. It seems Miss Jack and I didn't get nearly as close to his limits as we thought. He told me that only one thing has ever made him squirm, but he won't tell me what it was. I'd like to do a private scene where Miss Jack and I do push him to his limits, just so I know where they are.

A More Serious Scene

2007-01-13T17:35:00.000-05:00

Fucking b.com crashed my browser (again) and I lost the post I was working on. Goddamn.

So last night I was at J_D's, doing a scene with her and D. Whereas most of the scenes I'm in have a playful element, this was a very serious, intense scene. For personal reasons, it was important to J_D, and all the energy in the scene focused on her and D and their relationship. I hardly spoke throughout the scene; J_D and I communicated mainly through looks and gestures, and D and I never spoke. He was blindfolded or had his eyes closed almost the entire time.

There were three parts of the scene that I particularly enjoyed. The first was when I tied D standing between two columns. He had cuffs on his wrists, and I used two of my ¹/₄-inch x 10-foot ropes. I tied one end of each around a column, looped it through the D-ring of a cuff, and hitched it back onto itself. Then I tightened them down until they held D's arms out and the knots were well out of his reach. It worked quite well, and I was rather pleased with myself.

The second part I liked was when I used my suede flogger to warm up D for J_D. I really would've liked to do some more flogging. I feel like I got cut a bit short, but c'est la vie. Pet will get the rest of it tonight.

The third great bit was when I got to practice my new cock braid on D. I did some light CBT with him while J_D flogged his back and ass. After a bit, I got the sense that he wasn't really enjoying the CBT that much, so I stopped. Pet will get the rest of that, too.

When the scene was over, I had a bit of a hard time coming out of headspace. Not that I was having difficulty coming down, but I my emotions were running a little high. My first instinct was to sit by myself in the dark until I came down, but I didn't want to draw J_D and D's attention to myself, so I went into the bathroom instead and took my time getting ready for bed. I washed away my scene persona as I washed off the makeup I was wearing, and I felt fine by the time I joined J_D and D in bed. I'm glad I'll get to play with Pet tonight, though.

Pretty!

2007-01-12T13:04:00.000-05:00

Took me a while, but I finally figured out this cock braid. I can't wait to try it out for real!

So now you're probably wondering how I did it. That's tricky. I started out trying to follow Rope Fashions's Braided Cock CBT directions, but I couldn't figure them out. So here's what I did:

I took my two five-foot lengths of cord, tied one in an overhand knot above the cock and the other below it.

Then I picked up the ends so that the ends hanging on the left side of the cock were in my left hand, and the ends hanging on the right side of the cock were in my right hand. I twisted my hands in opposite directions, so that the ends that had been on the bottom were on top and vice versa.

Then I crossed them over from left to right, so the ends that were in my left hand were in my right and vice versa. The only trick was keeping an eye on the ropes so that I knew which one to cross over and which to cross under so that they were interwoven.

When I reached the head, I again tied two overhand knots - on the top and bottom of the cock - then I gave the ends one last twist and moved into the braid.

I'm sure there's some name for that particular kind of braid, but I don't know what it is. I held the four ends next to each other, two in each hand, crossed the outer ends over the inner ones, and before I let go of them, I crossed the right (now inner) end over the left (now inner) end.

Repeated till I was near the end, and ended it with a final overhand knot.

The Cock Sock

2007-01-10T13:45:00.000-05:00

Among other creative endeavors, I knit. Sometimes, as I'm finishing a sweater or a hat or a sock, I start thinking about what I'm going to knit next. It would be nice to knit something unusual, less conventional than items of knitted clothing and outerwear that everyone has. What else could I knit...? And the first thing that always comes to mind is, a condom. It would be so nice and easy to knit a condom.

It became a bit of a running gag amongst my friends and I. "So, [Intriguing], what are you going to knit next?"

"I think I'll knit a condom."

So I finally did, with some ribbing at the top to keep it on, plenty of space for the balls, and some stretchy garter stitch for the shaft.

I figure it's just the thing for those chilly winter nights. It would probably be a big seller in Scotland, too. Unfortunately, it hasn't been field tested yet. Any volunteers?

Another Great Play Party

2007-01-09T18:52:00.000-05:00

I was supposed to go to New York last weekend, but it turned out not to be a good time for my friend there to put me up, so we put it off for a few weeks. That meant that I suddenly had an additional weekend before certain roommates who would not, I think, be ammenable to such things get home. I decided to throw a last-minute, low-key play party. I invited a handful of good friends, of whom six attended. As one of them commented, "If I were only going to have seven people at a play party, I think these are the seven I'd want." The attendees were Him (of him and her), Miss Jack, J_S, and three people whom I haven't mentioned on my blog yet. Tabby is cute as hell and always comes to play parties dressed very femmy, which I love. Miss Jack has been pursuing and playing with him for a while now, and their scenes are always really hot. The final guests were a couple I'll call Sophiste and Caner. I didn't realize until last night that they're both tops, which explains why I'd hardly seen them play before, though I've attended several parties with them.

We started out, as always, just hanging out, and I brought out the Apples to Apples set I've had since I was in high school. The game degenerated around the time that Miss Jack moved from the couch to my lap and we started making out between rounds. She moved back to the couch, but it wasn't too much longer before she led Tabby to the parlour. The rest of us quickly cleaned up the game moved to the parlour to observe the proceedings. After a while, I asked J_S if he was interested in playing, but he said he was tired and would be leaving soon. I did my best, but I couldn't talk him into it. That left us with me feeling toppy, two more tops in Sophiste and Caner, and Him, who is vanilla (though he enjoys watching). I think it was J_S who suggested that we steal Miss Jack, who was topping Tabby. Sophiste and I set up the scene: while Miss Jack and Tabby were occupied in the corner, we pulled the piano bench into the middle of the room, put wristcuffs on the front two legs and a spreader bar with attached ankle cuffs behind it. Then, we got everyone else in on the plan. On my mark, all five of us turned on the couple in the corner. Him and I grabbed Tabby off of Miss Jack while Sophiste, Caner and J_S wrestled her to the piano bench. I turned Tabby over to Him and helped the other three strap down Miss Jack, who was really not very resistant at all.

Once she was strapped down, the rest of us picked up various implements and began testing them on our helpless bottom. I started out with my suede flogger, J_S borrowed from Sophiste and Caner an electric racket, Sophiste applied bulldog and binder clips to Miss Jack inner thighs and upper chest, and Caner brought out his canes, including a shower curtain rod. Miss Jack was getting mouthy, so Sophiste made her take a dental gag. It didn't keep her from trying to talk, but it made it much more amusing. As you can imagine, things got crowded around Miss Jack. I didn't have room to safely swing a flogger, so I moved to my leather flogger, which has slightly shorter tails, and began working on Tabby instead. He was crouching facing Miss Jack, which was a good position for a flogging and made the scene even hotter, as they watched each other get beaten. Around this time, J_S left.

When Miss Jack's back and rear were well and truly beaten, we uncuffed her, flipped her over onto her back, and put the cuffs on again. The gave me the opportunity to use my small rubber flogger on her breasts while Caner attached the clips of his Electro Sex box to her labia and proceeded to find out what kind of reactions he could get. The "Massage" setting, it turned out, produced bloodcurdling screams. I stepped back and left Miss Jack to Caner's ministrations, joining the rest of the party in voyeurism. Caner played around with different settings and intensities, eliciting a range of reactions from quiet moans to the aforementioned screams. Of course, the screams were everyone's favorite. They became so loud and alarming that I started to get concerned in case the neighbors heard and called the police, but I didn't want to end the scene, either. Everybody was clothed except for Miss Jack, and it wouldn't take long to get her out of the cuffs and looking relatively innocent, so I stood back where I could keep one eye on the window in our front door and the other on the scene. Eventually, Miss Jack reached her limits and Caner put the Electro Sex away. I stepped back in and continued flogging Miss Jack's breasts. The blood vessels on the surface were starting to break, leaving bright pink nipples and beautiful bursts of red on either side of her aereola.

For the grant finale, I joined Caner, Him and Tabby on the couch as we watched Sophiste fist Miss Jack. Miss Jack has lots of experience being fisted, so it didn't take long for Sophiste to get her whole hand in, and managed to fit four fingers of her other hand as well. I was sitting between Him and Tabby, cuddling a little with both and hoping that Him would reconsider being completely straight.

I'm not sure if Miss Jack came, but she sure was making some nice sounds. When the scene ended, we all cleaned up a bit, and I took this photo of Miss Jack's tits. The pink marks on her chest are from the binder clips that Sophiste had attached earlier.

Sophiste and Caner left, and Him and I left Tabby and Miss Jack to go up to my room for some vanilla fun.

Play Party

2006-12-31T22:46:00.000-05:00

I hosted one hell of a play party last night, and what made it so great was all the terrific people who showed up. It started out pretty crazy - I was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, directing the several people who'd arrived early to help clean and set up, trying to make sure that everything was done. I'd never hosted a play party before, and it was great to have people who had more experience to help and advise me.

I was worried that I'd be stuck in getting-things-done mode the whole night, but once everything was set and the first few guests had arrived, I excused myself and Pet to change out of our street clothes. I wore a tight faux-suede skirt and a dark pink camisole, and I dressed Pet up in his punk-girl outfit. Oh, I didn't mention that on here, did I? Thursday evening, Pet and I went shopping at The Garment District, a funky second-hand clothing store in Cambridge. I picked out some fishnet stockings and two outfits for him. The punk-girl outfit includes the stockings, a short black schoolgirl skirt with blue pinstripes and silver buckles, a lace-covered black bra, and a black mesh shirt. When we were both dressed, I buckled leather cuffs onto his wrists and ankles and a collar covered in blue Chinese silk onto his neck. He looked dead sexy, and when we came downstairs, Miss Jack whispered in my ear that she thought he was really cute, too.

Unfortunately, Pet couldn't stay for the entire party. Before he had to leave, the party hit a little lull. I sat next to him on the futon with my hand up his skirt. When I was ready, I told him to go upstairs to my room and wait for me there. I got a condom from the box in the play room and went to my room, where he was kneeling on the bed. I told him to lie down, and then I lifted up his skirt and pulled down his panties. "You're such a dirty slut," I said. I held him down while I fucked him and told him that his cock is mine to use whenever I want to. He already seemed close to coming, so I held him down tighter and threatened him with severe punishment if he came before his Mistress did. I rode him hard until I came, and then I let him come. We cuddled for a little while afterwards, and then he dressed in his street clothes and left and I rejoined the party.

At the end of the night, he and she stayed over for continued fun in my all-to-small bed. The quote of the night was, "You know what's better than two girls giving head? Two girls giving head and giggling." Which of course triggered a vicious giggling cycle that lasted for the better part of the night. And we even managed a three-way 69 triangle for a while. Oh, and I got fucked wearing nothing but my pirate boots - how cool is that! Fuckin' A.

Click

2006-12-31T15:24:00.000-05:00

_{Note: I started writing this post more than a week ago, but only managed to finish it up today. In short, it refers to the week before last, rather than this past week.}

Sometimes, you just click with the way someone plays. Something about them matches something about you, all the pieces fall into place, the brain chemicals start pumping and before you know it, you're in headspace and having a great scene. This week, I clicked with two people, once as a domme and once as a sub.

Tuesday I had a date with a sub, Pet, I met online. We'd spent a lot of time IMing and were getting along really well, so I was eager to meet him in person and find out if we worked as well in person.

Pet took me out to dinner after work and we lingered over drinks and conversation. We hadn't really been planning on playing, but the chemistry was good, so we headed back to my place. We were crowded together on the bus home, so I put my arm around his shoulders. He leaned his head on my shoulder, I started petting his hair (mmmmm, hair fetish), and there it was - the click. When we got back to my place, he curled up in my lap and I petted him while we talked a bit more and I got into a good dominant headspace. He's not very masochistic - so he says - but he's very submissive and eager to please. I was very pleased to make him stand naked and blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back while I tied ten feet of parachute cord tight around his balls and semi-soft cock and then teased him with my fingers and tongue until his cock was almost purple and bulging out between the criss-crossed rope. He started begging to please me, so I let him beg for a while before I pushed him backwards to sit on the edge of the bed and shoved one of my tits in his mouth.

He showed sufficient enthusiasm, so I untied his hands and let him play with my other tit and finger my cunt. I got his cock as hard as it could get with the ropes so tight around it. Stretching a condom over the bindings was a little tricky, but I managed. Fucking Pet's bound cock would've been hot as hell even without the ropes rubbing against my clit, and I came hard. Later, I untied Pet's cock and let him come while I fucked him.

Thursday I met with Brooke (his drag name), who I also met online, IM with quite a bit and met briefly once before. Brooke is several years older than I am, cross-dresses on the sly, and has fetishes for gags and smoking. I could take or leave the smoking, but there's not much I love more than a guy in a skirt, and it had been years since I'd had a chance to indulge that particular fetish. We met at a nice hotel, I got dressed up right away, and we each showed off the toys we'd brought. He's a switch, too, but I thought I'd be more comfortable bottoming to him if I topped him first. I picked out an outfit and a wig for her and helped Brooke put on her makeup. I'm afraid I wasn't very good at it - all my makeup skills are in a dramatic, gothy style that's good for clubbing and dark play parties, but Brooke's look is very subtle and sophisticated, and I had some trouble toning it down. Once we were both dressed up, I put on some music - Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong, perfect for Brooke's look and style. We smoked and talked a little, and then I began tying her up. I started with a rope corset, which she really liked. Then I had her sit on the sofa and tied her at the wrists, ankles and knees. I gagged her while I smoked some more. Then, I moved her to a chair in front of a mirror so she could see how she looked while I stroked her and talked dirty to her. I was having trouble figuring out what to do with her so I set her on the floor, bent her over the chair and ended the scene with a nice spanking a few swats with my paddle. It was a good scene, but not great.

We took a break and Brooke changed into a different outfit - a tight, short skirt and red blouse that made her look very dominant. She cuffed my hands behind my back and made me kneel in front of her. She instructed me to call her Mistress and pushed my head down to make me mouth her cock through the skirt. With a little dirty talk, I clicked and went right into subspace. Brooke put a gag and nipple clamps on me and bound me in a hog tie. I hadn't been hog-tied before and was worried that it might get uncomfortable - my knees usually start to hurt if they're kept bent for very long. But my knees were in fine form and didn't bother me at all. I was flogged, spanked, paddled, tickled and humiliated. Finally, she untied me and cuffed my hands in front of me. She sat me down in a chair, handed me one of my vibrators, and made me masturbate with it while she sat across from me jerking off. It was hard for me to hit a good spot or rhythm, so it took me a long time to come. When I finally did, I came hard and long, and by the time I opened my eyes, I'd missed watching Brooke come.

We gradually recovered our wits and cleaned up. We spent the night in the big, soft hotel bed, and I left for work in the morning.

Hiatus

2006-12-26T21:47:00.000-05:00

I appologize for the lack of posts lately. I did start one, several days ago, about those dates last week, but I've been crazy busy until now, and now I just can't write about kink. The father of my very close friend and roommate, J_R, is dying of cancer. He was only diagnosed a couple months ago and has gone downhill very rapidly in the last couple weeks. Last week they thought he had a couple months; today, it's a couple days. I promise I haven't forgotten my loyal readers, though, and I'll start posting again just as soon as I can.

Excerpt of an E-mail From my Mom

2006-12-21T19:38:00.000-05:00

I remember so well when you were about 11 or 12 and you and [your brother] and I were all folding clean laundry together. You held up a pair of my lacy panties with a quizzical look and said, "Personally, all I ask of my underwear is that it is comfortable."

My Insanely Busy Week

2006-12-21T15:41:00.000-05:00

Monday I attended Movie Night, a weekly potluck-and-movie hosted by some (vanilla) friends. It was The Sound of Music - totally blah, but I'd missed a couple lately and wanted to catch up with everybody. Tuesday I had a date (more on that later). Wednesday, ditto. Today, ditto. Tomorrow I'm volunteering all day. As in, I'm there at 7 am, probably not leaving 'til 11 at night. Ugh. Saturday I'm working on - and hopefully completing - a project I'm helping a friend with for his dad, who's dying of cancer and won't be lucid much longer. Saturday through Monday, more all-day volunteering, though hopefully the days won't be quite as long as Friday. I don't have any family in town right now, and my out-of-town family and I can't afford to visit each other. Since Christmas is all about family and tradition to me, I'd rather skip it and help other people than celebrate it half-heartedly with someone else's family or sit around stewing in my own juices. _{(That sounds dirtier than I'd intended.)} All in all, as much fun as I'm having, I cannot wait for next Tuesday.

What makes for a good threesome?

2006-12-19T12:34:00.000-05:00

I had a great threesome last Saturday night with a really hot couple - whom I'll call them him and her - who came home with me after a party. I hadn't talked to them much at the party, I didn't even know they were together, but I asked if he wanted to come home with me because I was horny and he looked sexy, and he said that I would have to convince her to come, too. When she came over a moment later, he told her I had to talk to her. "Would you being interested in coming back to my place?" I asked.

"Sure," she said.

"Well," he said, "I didn't say she would take much convincing."

I was happy to discover that we had great chemistry. We were all very playful and there was a lot of laughing and joking while we fucked, and fucked, and fucked. She had gorgeous, round breasts and he had a nice big cock that stayed hard for hours. I really hope we can do that again some time!

Wait, what was I supposed to be talking about? Oh, right, the elements of a good threesome. I've definitely had a couple threesomes that didn't work out as well, and for a while I thought that threesomes just weren't a good idea. I had some group sex in college, but I hadn't been part of a threesome for a few years until earlier this year. I don't think it's a coincidence that the threesomes I've been in this year are the best I've ever had; I spent a lot of time in the intervening years on self-reflection and -improvement. The first requirement of a good threesome is three mature adults.

Maturity is important because in a threesome - more so even than in two-partnered sex - you have to be focused on your partners' pleasure. I once ruined a threesome with a good friend of mine and her boyfriend because I was selfish and wanted all the attention. Ideally, each participant in the threesome should have a chance to receive the attention of the other two participants. Unfortunately, there are these things called "straight people," and if your threesome includes two "straight people" of the same gender, they're probably not going to want to give or receive attention from the other "straight person." (Please note, I have nothing against straight people, except when they're two hot guys who won't make out with each other.) The basic tenant still holds, though, that you should spend as much time pleasing the other participants as they do pleasing you.

Another reason that maturity is essential to a good threesome is the issue of jealousy. A mature person who has jealous tendencies shouldn't agree to be part of a threesome, and a mature person who chooses to participate in a threesome shouldn't feel threatened by the other participants. I've mostly been the third in threesomes - the unattached person who joins a couple. In my experience, few threesomes involve three unattached people or three people who are dating each other; most involve a single person joining a couple. It's important that the third respect the couple's relationship, ask what their limits are, and respect those limits. One couple I played with was open to anything except anal sex, which they reserve as their "special activity." As for the couple, they should know what they're comfortable with and tell the third, and they should trust each other and be secure in their relationship. If you find yourself in the middle of a threesome and something starts to happen that you're not comfortable with, say so, and suggest something else that you are comfortable with. All three participants should check in with each other afterwards, and the couple should talk in more depth, find out whether they're comfortable with what happened and talk through any issues that come up.

Here are a few situations that make for bad threesomes: when any one of the participants doesn't want to do it; when the threesome used as a subterfuge for one person to get it on with another person and the third person is ignored; when a couple is having problems in their relationship; and when the third wants a romantic relationship with one of the people in a couple.

And I'll end this with a little secret hint that's worked for me: you don't necessarily have to have the hots for someone to enjoy being in a threesome with them. I was in a situation once where I really wanted to have a threesome with a particular couple, but I wasn't feeling sexy or turned-on. I ignored that and went ahead with the threesome anyway, and it didn't take but a couple of minutes until I was really turned-on and into what we were doing. A little nipple stimulation will do that to a body.

The Story of the Christmas Paddle

2006-12-18T08:09:00.000-05:00

The Boston TNG* group had a gift-exchange at the munch a week ago. There was a price limit of $10, so I brought a copy of Midori's Master Han's Daughter. All the gifts were wrapped and piled on a table.

We chose numbers out of a hat, and I picked number two, which means I was second in line to choose something off the table. I chose a suspiciously paddle-shaped package. I was tempted to pick something more mysterious, because I like surprises, but I had just been telling J_D that the thing I needed most for my toy collection was a paddle, so I could hardly justify passing it up.

When I opened the package, I found that it wasn't just a paddle, but a paddle that had been so finely sanded that the wood felt soft to the touch, and it was inscribed with the words "joy" and "pain."

The person who brought the paddle is someone I've talked to a fair bit at munches and parties, and I asked him about how he'd made it. He told me he'd bought it at Michael's for $6, traced the letters from a stencil and used a Dremel router to carve them out. He sent me these pictures of the process the day after the munch.

I was really excited about the fact that the paddle was unstained wood, because it meant that I could finish it with the same stain I used on my spreader bars, which I'd chosen to match my bed and dresser. The paddle makes it a complete bedroom set!

So I picked up a set of foam brushes and some pre-stain conditioner and stained the paddle over the next few days. It turned out very nicely, although the stain isn't as even as I'd like.

The only solution I can think of would be to stain one side at a time and lay the paddle flat to dry, rather than staining both sides at once and drying it vertically, but that would add a lot of time and there would still be a line on the edge where the stain on each side overlapped. I could also apply the stain in very thin layers, perhaps with a rag or paper towel, but that would also take a lot of time.

Although I guess it wouldn't really matter if it had taken longer to finish, since I still haven't had the opportunity to use it on anyone. *grump* I blame J_S, who didn't come to the party on Saturday like he said he would.

Yeah, I definitely got the best gift of the munch. And speaking of gifts, the jig saw my dad bought me arrived on Friday! The next step will be figuring out where in the basement I can use it, and then making a pair of saw horses. Oh, but I'll have to make Miss Jack's Christmas present first. Top priority.

*TNG: The Next Generation. A social group for kinky people ages 18-35.

Shopping List

2006-12-17T18:39:00.000-05:00

Smooth condoms for anal play - $17.99
Textured condoms for vaginal - $12.99
Unpowdered latex gloves - $4.99
AA batteries - $14.98

The look on the cashier's face - priceless.

Ass Update: Posteriors for Posterity

2006-12-17T18:33:00.000-05:00

I know it's been a while, but what can I say? Not much has happened to my ass lately. This is what my ass looks like in it's natural state:

Thank Og It's Friday

2006-12-15T13:40:00.000-05:00

I'm really sick of the whole "TGIF" thing, but I'm too tired to come up with something original. Thank the good imaginary being in the sky that it's almost the weekend. I really need to catch up with my posting, for one. And after last night, I need to catch up on my sleep before (hopefully) going Round 2 with J_S Saturday night.

Last night, I was supposed to play with a lovely gentleman who enjoys cross-dressing (among other things). Unfortunately, he caught cold on Wednesday and had to cancel. I think the whole city of Boston is sick right now. Anyway, I was feeling disappointed but looking forward to a productive evening at home. When I got home and plugged in my battery-dead cell phone, I had a message from Miss Jack, wondering if I was available to hang out. I called her right back and invited her over. When she arrived, I had just started making dinner. She's had a bad week and needed to talk, so we did, and then ate dinner while watching Mythbusters. When dinner was done, Miss Jack eagerly suggested we try and get someone to come over and play with us. I checked the clock; it was still fairly early, so what the hell. I probably shouldn't be surprised that she instantly rounded up two guys eager to play. What a mood she was in! Giggly and excited as a schoolgirl when the guys arrived, and so horny she practically assaulted them.

It took me a while to be ready to play; I got caught up in hostess-mode and couldn't relax until I finished clearing out a play space in the parlour and taking care of all the practical matters. Then, there was the matter of who would be doing what with/to whom. Miss Jack was clearly after one of the guys, which left me with the other, B. No problem, except that he never bottoms, and I wasn't feeling submissive. Oh, well, who needs a submissive bottom, anyhow? B's big thing is fisting, and I'd never been fisted before. Tried a couple times, but not successfully. I agreed to let him try, but I wanted to be tied up so I could have something to struggle against. It drives me nuts to try and hold still while I'm bottoming!

B obligingly tied my hands to my legs, just above my knees. I was on a couch, with a towel under me. B had latex gloves, a bottle of lube, two very large dildos, and condoms. Just a few feet away, Miss Jack was applying various implements to her guy's back and ass. I was enjoying the sexy show, but after a short while, he said he wasn't in the right headspace, and the two of them adjourned to another room.

In the mean time, B had started working up my clit and pussy with his fingers. My nipples were feeling a bit neglected, and I considered asking B to put nipple clamps on them, but I decided that I wanted to focus on the sensations in my pussy.

Those sensations were not always pleasant, and two or three times I had to ask B to slow down or stop when the burning got unbearably intense. From time to time I was able to articulate what I was feeling, but for the most part I communicated through various moans, curse words and facial grimaces. How he knew the good, "Oh, God, fuck!"s from the bad I have no idea, but he did, and responded with greater enthusiasm or encouragement accordingly. When the pain peaked, I changed my mind about natural childbirth.

B never did get his whole fist in my pussy, though. He did fuck me with the larger dildo (approx. diameter 3") by rubbing my clit at the same time (amazing pain-killer, that!) but apparently my vagina isn't deep enough to accomodate a hand. That's right, everybody, I have a shallow pussy. Who knew? Well, at least it made it easy for him to reach my g-spot. After one clitoral and two or three g-spot orgasms over the course of the scene, I was exhausted and begging him to stop. He kept going for a little while, of course. I mean, come on, begging a top to stop making you come? That's just egging them on. But I was immensely grateful when B did stop shortly thereafter because, for the first time in my life, it felt so sweet not to have anything in my cunt.

Skandalismus!

2006-12-13T22:56:00.000-05:00

I should've posted this a few days ago, but I've been mad busy, as the kids say. The night I stayed over a J_D's, I had a strange and heretical dream. I dreamed that J_G (who asks that I call her by her scene name, Miss Jack, and so shall she ever hereafter be) were walking around a city. Who should come walking up to us but J_S, dressed in a shiny vinyl interpretation of a Russian military uniform (probably inspired by watching this YouTube video). He was, of course, sexy as hell, so Miss Jack and I got on either side of him and the three of us walked arm-in-arm to a nearby inn that rented rooms for sex in hour-long blocks. We already had a room reserved for the next few hours, but when we got there and looked at the reservation book, we found that somehow there'd been a mistake, and someone else had taken that time slot. Whoever it was, they had left the door of their room slightly ajar, and as we walked away, I was able to look in and see who had displaced us.

It was the Pope and God.

My Ass Still Stings

2006-12-10T15:34:00.000-05:00

Last night, I went over to J_D's house for our first play date. Unfortunately, _D didn't feel like playing, so I was left alone to be subjected to J_D's tender mercies. As it turned out, they weren't so tender. She spread out all her toys and fetish clothes, and we started out innocently enough, taking pictures of her for her b.com profile. Now, I'm no shoe fetishist, but I think these could convert me:

When we were done, she showed me her violet wand and all its attachments. I'd never played with a violet wand or any other other electric toy. I had a chance, once, but I passed it up because, frankly, those things scared me. I was so naive! I shouldn't have been scared of the violet wand; I should've been terrified. After practicing on my arm, J_D took this "before" photo of my ass before going to town on it.

In retrospect, I realize that it may have been a mistake to start posting regular Ass Updates on this blog; J_D seemed to see it as nothing so much as a challenge. I lay face-down on her bed as she used all but her very most evil violet wand attachment on me. When she was done with the violet wand, she started in with the floggers. I think she used four, total, including one with tails of stiff, thick patent leather. And when she was done with the floggers, she used a cane made of three thin, stiff plastic sticks held together at the suede grip. Owwwww, that one stung like a sonofabitch. After several minutes, I started to wonder if J_D was trying to see how much I could take before I said the safeword. A single clear thought entered my brain: all I had to do was say a single word, and the pain would stop. Wouldn't that feel so sweet? But safewords are to use when you can't take any more, and was I really at that point? Was this as much pain as I could possibly stand? No, I realized, it wasn't. It was intense, but it had reached a plateau. I could stay there for a while, if I had to.

Fortunately, I didn't. J_D stopped a little while later, and then she took this "after" photo:

(I have it on good authority that that photo failed to truly capture the redness of my ass. Also, there's a welt or two that didn't show up.)

As we lounged on her bed after the scene, J_D said something about two hours. I hadn't been paying attention; I was probably checking my ass for damage.

"What?" I asked.

"It's 1:30," she said. "We started playing two hours ago."

So what did I learn? I learned that posting pictures of your ass online makes the sadists you bottom to try to outdo each other, and I learned that violet wands leave prickles that feel just like hayburn - the stingy rash that you get as a child when you play around on the piles of hay bales on your grandfather's dairy farm.

J

2006-12-10T13:32:00.000-05:00

Referring to people by their first initial for the sake of anonymity is a fine idea, unless you know four people whose names start with J.

There's J, my roommate, ex-boyfriend, and close friend.
I have a girl friend, J, who's cute as hell and always plays with me at parties.
J, of the same name as my roommate, whom I brought home last Saturday and tortured the next morning.
And I just got home from an overnight play date with J, who lives about an hour's drive away and has a sub, D, who has fantasies of being used as a kind of teaching tool while J shows me some new techniques.

So how do I make it clear to you, dear reader, which J's testicles I tied up in knots, and which J made my ass prickle? How 'bout this:

My roommate J is now J_R.
My girl friend and play partner J is J_G.
J who's sexy as hell when he's being tortured is J_S.
And of course, J who's sub is D is J_D.

Scene names

2006-12-08T21:56:00.000-05:00

I started thinking a little while ago that maybe I should have a scene name. All the kinky bloggers and podcasters use one. So do a few people I've met at play parties, though not many. It had never interested me before; scene names seemed a way to separate one's kinkiness, one's sexuality, from the rest of one's self, giving that aspect it's own personality and being. To me, it suggested a kind of split personality: here is me, here is my kink. My kink is an integral part of my sexuality, which is in turn an integral part of my self. But obviously to the podcasters and bloggers and other online folk, it was mainly a way to maintain anonymity. And I met a couple people whose scene name seemed intended to introduce themselves and their kink at the same time, i.e. a woman who introduced herself as Girl. That seemed useful, like a kind of shorthand.

And then I started thinking about creating a blog myself, and I also thought, maybe it would be fun to have a scene name. Sometimes I do have difficulty getting into the right headspace, especially when I'm topping; maybe it would be easier if I had a separate personality to slip in to. But what would I call myself? The only screen name I use regularly has my last name right in it. I decided I liked the screen name I'd given myself on Bondage.com, Intriguing, but I couldn't imagine introducing myself that way at a play party. I might as well hold out my hand and say, "Hi, I'm Pretentious." But online? Online is different. Online, I see my name in the corner - Intriguing - and it makes me feel sexy and seductive.

So did I ever come up with a scene name I was comfortable using in real life? Yes, sort of. You see, Desi, who's commented here a couple times, is my oldest friend, and until I entered the scene, she was my only kinky friend. We've been long-distance friends since middle school, and our lives have gone in very different directions, but our friendship stayed strong through everything that happened. And to be fair, she deserves a lot more of the credit for that than I do. Anyway, back when we wrote notes in class and then letters to each other, she created a special nickname for me. She simply replaced one letter in my name with another; it didn't change the pronunciation, just the spelling. But when I was searching for a scene name, I suddenly realized that I already had one. The nickname Desi gave me years ago, the name that introduced her notes, letters and e-mails, was the perfect expression of my sexuality, because for so many years Desi was the only person I shared that sexuality with. Nobody notices when I'm using my scene name, of course, because it sounds the same as my real name, but in my head I know.

D&S vs. S&M, a differentiation

2006-12-07T14:06:00.000-05:00

If you're reading this blog, you probably already know what BDSM stands for, but just in case: Bondage & Discipline, Dominance & Submission, Sadism & Masochism. I'm not entirely show why bondage and discipline go together, or why they're given their own categories outside of D&S or S&M. Anyway, that's not germaine as far as this post is concerned.

A few weeks ago, Roper, the excellent author of Confessions of an English Gentleman wrote a provocative post on the subject of sadism. It caused a flurry of commenting, which is quite unusual for that blog, and led Roper to write this follow-up post. At issue - for me, at least - is a question of semantics. Roper uses the word "sadism" to refer to people who enjoy causing pain regardless of whether they have their partner's consent or not and "Dom" to refer to people who enjoy causing pain as long as their partner consents. I think it is important to use separate words to differentiate between those who require consent and those who don't, but I don't like Roper's solution. For one thing, I think it's too late to try and pigeonhole sadism. The word has been in use too long and is used too widely in the BDSM community in reference to those who enjoy giving physical pain to those who want to receive it. It's too late in the game to try and change the meaning now.

I also disagree, quite strongly, with the use of Dom to refer to one who enjoys giving physical pain. There is a very important distinction between dominance & submission and sadism & masochism: the former is mental, the latter physical. There are people who enjoy feeling superior or inferior to another, humiliating or being humiliated, being served or serving, but do not enjoy giving or inflicting pain. There are others who enjoy giving or inflicting pain (or both) as equal partners. Of course, a lot of people enjoy a mix of both the mental and physical aspects of kink. And then you get into the realm of dominant masochists and submissive sadists... oh, they're a tricky lot! But Roper's use of Dom confuses dominance and sadism and doesn't differentiate between the mental and the physical.

So what's the solution? Roper's way leaves no way to distinguish between dominance and sadism, my way leaves no way to distinguish between consensual sadism and non-consensual sadism. Either way we're a word short. It's a bit broad, but I propose we call out those non-consensual sadists on what they are: abusers. If you enjoy actually - not just in fantasy or as part of a role-play - hurting someone who doesn't want to be hurt, you're an abuser.

There's another, smaller, issue I have with Roper, and that stems from this part of his more recent post on Sadism:

The term sadism, of course, is derived from the work of the Marquis de Sade. If you read de Sade’s Justine you will soon realise that consent was not a concept that greatly troubled the Marquis. Poor Justine, his unfortunate heroine, is subjected to a series of unspeakable ordeals by a group of debauched libertines, dissolute aristocrats and monks mostly, who care not a jot for the poor girl’s screams, and indeed delight in her utter powerlessness to resist their evil designs. There is thus a yawning chasm between Justine and that classic of D/s, the bible of submissives, Pauline Réage’s L’Histoire d’O (Story of O). In that masterpiece, O endures many painful and degrading experiences. She is fucked by men she has not even been introduced to, is beaten by the hired help, is pierced in the genitals and branded, and ultimately given away by her lover as a present to the mysterious and domly Sir Stephen (an Englishman, of course; how could he be anything else?). But at every moment she revels in the cruelties imposed upon her. Her suffering is sublimated into a kind of sexual ecstasy, because it is what she most earnestly desires.

This would be an excellent illustration of the difference between abuse and sadism, if it weren't for the fact that Justine was a work of fiction, a fantasy. And one that I thought was incredibly hot, though I would never, ever want it to happen to anyone in real life. Saying that "consent was not a concept that greatly troubled the Marquis" because he wrote a fictional account of rape and torture suggests that those of us who fantasize about or role-play non-consensual scenes are equally unconcerned with the actual consent of our partners. Now, I'm fairly sure that's not what Roper meant to say, but it's a mistake that society as a whole often makes about the kinky community, always to our detriment. The widespread fear and antagonism towards kinksters mean that when we're communicating in a forum as public as the internet, we need to be careful not to reinforce negative ideas about who we are and what BDSM is about.

Now, all that said, I just want to make it clear that I don't by any means dislike Roper, I just disagree with him as far as those two posts of his are concerned. Otherwise, I quite adore his blog.

Huh

2006-12-06T11:59:00.000-05:00

I just took a shower so I won't smell so rank when I head in to work this afternoon, and I realized that this cold must've made my brain pretty fuzzy, or else I wouldn't have failed to notice the now-faded bruise on my right breast. I wonder where that came from.

Ass Update No. 1

2006-12-06T10:48:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, a friend who's been reading this blog asked me how my ass was doing. I told him that it felt fine, but I'm not normally in the habit of looking at it in a mirror, so I didn't know whether the bruises had faded yet. We thought maybe I should do a regular "Ass Update" say, twice a week. God knows it would be a hell of an incentive to lose weight! Anyway, here's what my ass looked like as of this morning:

Personally, I find it has a watercolor quality to it.

Musings While Ill

2006-12-05T11:11:00.000-05:00

I'm home sick again. Here are some of the products of my diseased brain:

It's really hard to fantasize about sucking cock when you have a sore throat.
The best part about being in a long-term relationship is having someone to take care of you when you're sick.
The second-best part about being in a long-term relationship is dispensing with condoms. I hate having to use condoms
Is it just me, or are women not supposed to say that they don't like condoms? I feel like women are supposed to want their partner to use condoms and men are supposed to reluctantly comply so they can get laid. Fuck that. Condoms are a necessary evil, and I use them, but I hate them.
Except for anal play. Then condoms are the best things ever for making clean-up so easy.
The best part about having a sore throat is letting yourself eat ice cream for breakfast.
I wonder if other people set their freezer temperature based on how hard or soft they like their ice cream.
You know what would feel really great right now? A nice warm bath and a mug of chicken broth. Maybe a nice warm bath in chicken broth. Hmmm...

Christmas List

2006-12-04T21:15:00.000-05:00

I've just about reached the limits of my current tool kit. Except for my power drill, I have only hand tools. Given enough time, they'll get the job done, but my little hand saw is not so good for making clean, straight cuts and sanding by hand is just a pain in the ass when you have a lot of surface area to go over. I want to be able to make straight cuts as well as curves,* so I e-mailed my dad that I'd like a power sander, a jig saw and a circular saw (or whatever he thought would be best for making straight cuts) and could he get me one of those tools for Christmas. Of course, I really want a table saw and a drill press, but I try not to be greedy. Anyway, Dad wrote back that he's found his jig saw does a better job of making straight cuts than his circular saw does. He's not entirely happy with the jig saw he bought himself, so he'll find a better one to buy me. And so I'll take this moment to thank my dad for knowing all those things that dads are supposed to know, for giving me nearly every tool I own, for showing me the joy of working with my hands and with tools, and for teaching me the first knots I ever learned. I hope he never finds out what uses I've put those skills towards.

Once I get the tools I need, the next step will be making a pair of saw horses, and then I can go to town. Paddles - heart-shaped and otherwise, a spanking bench, new slats for my bed (what? they're too short, they keep falling out), St. Andrew's cross. My skills and knowledge are not up to all of those projects yet, which is why I'm also lusting after The Better Built Bondage Book, which I've heard great things about.

Other books on my wishlist, in case I have any unknown benefactors in cyberspace, are:

*A couple weeks ago, a friend of mine brought a fun spanking toy to a play party: a piece of heart-shaped wood mounted on a thin dowel she bought at a craft store for 75 cents. She and I once used it on J with wonderful results - little red hearts all over his ass - but when I used it on her later, the dowel broke. She's reassured me many times that I don't need to replace it, but it only seems like good manners to do so, and I'd like to make her a nicer one that won't break so easily, plus one for myself.

Ugh.

2006-12-04T10:47:00.000-05:00

I woke up sometime in the wee hours last night, dying of thirst and with a sore throat. Apparently, my all-night romp was too much for my immune system to handle, and I've got whatever's been going around lately. I really hope I didn't give it to S or J. Sorry, guys!

How Did I Get Here?

2006-12-03T22:24:00.000-05:00

At some point, looking for something completely vanilla, I happened upon the blog Sweetness Follows, which is unfortunately now defunct. Checking out their links, I found Confessions of an English Gentleman, which I cannot recognize highly enough. Still, I wanted something from a female domination perspective, so I checked out his links, which is how I found Mistress Matisse. After I'd read every post in her blog and sent her a thank-you e-mail, I decided to read the blog of her secondary partner, Monk. When he posted about Gloromo, a decided to click on the link he provided to Graydancer's blog and looked around until I found his Ropecast. I put on my headphones at work and listened to every damn one and when I ran out, I checked out another podcast that Graydancer mentioned, Kinky Sex Radio. Once again, I listened to every show they made and then looked up a podcast they'd mentioned, Fetish Flame. Same thing: listened to every show, started listening to another podcast they'd mentioned Sex is Fun. I have a long ways to go yet, but I think when I'm done, I'll get to work on Polyamory Weekly.

What's black and blue and red all over?

2006-12-03T21:02:00.000-05:00

Answer: my ass.

I took that photo a few minutes ago, at about 5:30 pm, a good 18 hours after I was spanked silly at a lovely party last night. I think the nice marks came mostly from a rubber paddle J had just bought and brought with him. It was a very fun and playful scene; S did a great job of warming me up, and I was mostly laughing on an endorphin trip except when it got really intense. I was definitely pushing my limits, and got very close to safewording at one point. Oh, and did I mention I was still wearing my jeans the whole time? Thank Og for that, can you imagine what it would look like if he'd been working my bare ass? *eek!*

Later, I brought J home with me. He was a little hesitant about dominating me, but he did a great job. He finger-raped me and left my clit and pussy really sore. *swoon*

I finally got him out of bed around 3:00 this afternoon, just so I could tie him up with his back against the wall and a spreader bar between his feet. I tortured him for probably about half an hour. Oh, he's so hot when he's crying out in pain! When I put clamps on his nipples and ran a vibrator over them, he squirmed and moaned in the most delightful fashion. And the nipples were only half the fun! I tied up his cock and balls really pretty and slapped them around while I sucked his cock. I hadn't done much cock-and-ball bondage before, but it was really easy. I did have to retie it once when the loop that separated his balls slipped loose. The cord held his balls in place so nicely, and pulled the skin tight so it was extra-sensitive. I used a burgundy lacing cord with a core from Rainbow Rope.

DIY Kink

2006-12-03T20:50:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I wish I had gone into carpentry instead of graphic arts. I love working with wood, and making my own things. I bought three wooden bars at the local hardware store - three feet long by and inch square. I put several layers of mahogany stain and glaze on them until they're dark red and gleaming. Then I screwed in five eyehooks - at each end, in the middle, and halfway between the each end hook and the middle hook. I have two done so far, I just need to put the eyehooks in the third. It's a very flexible design, plus with a few double-ended snaps, I can clip them together into a T or I (the kind of I with a bar at the top and bottom) shape to better position some poor bottom.