This morning I sat down to catch up on my blog reading….I went over to Luna’s blog and was astounded by what I read there. Well, not astounded by her actual blog post – but in the comments another sub decided to take Luna to task for “grating on her nerves” (which quite frankly was the nicest sentence in the whole comment).
http://lunakm.me/2010/01/over-complication/
This bothers me on a lot of levels. First of all, if you don’t like what you read on a particular person’s blog, then QUIT FOLLOWING THE BLOG. Why waste time reading a blog you don’t like?
Second of all, it is tacky to throw a tantrum on someone else’s blog.
But last, and most importantly, since when is it okay to tell someone they are inferior just because she lives a different lifestyle than your own? This person proceeded to yell at Luna for not having children, for expressing her misery at being ill, and for mourning the fact that she didn’t have private time of her own. Evidently if you are a submissive and a blogger, you are supposed to present a happy front at all times?
Honestly – everyone is different, everyone is unique. There are Dom/sub relationships out there that are 24/7. Some people have a D/s relationship that revolves purely around the bedroom – in every other area of life the partners are equal in all things. And still others have different styles of BDSM. That doesn’t mean that one style is superior to the other….it just means it is different.
The “holier-than-thou” attitude that I see coming out of some subs really pisses me off. As an editor of a human sexuality forum, I see this a LOT. Quite frankly, whenever I read it I feel as though I am a recess monitor at a school for delinquents!
Every sub is different (and I can hear all the Dominates saying “Amen!” over that fact). We are individuals with differing viewpoints, priorities, habits, and values. We are also, all of us, united by our status as submissives. We are members of a sisterhood that is already attacked by the mainstream public who believes in myths and misconceptions. The last thing we need is dissension among our own ranks.
So please, people – if you read a blog that you disagree with, and you feel the need to post something to that affect in the comments, then do so with tact and empathy. You wouldn’t like it if others attacked you for YOUR lifestyle choices, so offer the same courtesy to others.
I am so kicking myself right now. With a smile, but still…
Last night, Sir popped over quickly as he’d dropped his brother off in town and wanted to swing by for a quick blowjob before he left for the hospital again. He also brought the head box he’s building over to do a fitting. I took his cock in my mouth like a good little hungry slut, and savoured every squirt of jizz that he sprayed over my tongue. It was heavenly. Afterward, he wanted some food before he hit the road again. We got in the car and went through a drive-thru, and as he was driving me back to the apartment, he asked if I wanted to come with him for the next day and a half. I wanted to jump right in and say yes, but I didn’t. I thought for a second, and then made the mature decision that he should probably spend time with his mom in the hospital and not just take me back to her house and play with me for the entire time. He seemed a little disappointed, but at the time I felt good for not taking advantage of his time.
And now I’m sitting home, horny and alone, and chatting with him at his mom’s house and wishing so much that I was there. It would just be Sir and me. I could be kept naked and collared, serving him, servicing him and feeling that wonderful tingle in my body that lets me know I’ve entered into an entirely different mindset. Supersub. The idea of his hands gently running over my skin, awakening the sensitive nerves all along my most sensitive areas; the thought of the biting sting of a quick, shallow slap or nails digging into my flesh; the heat and moisture building in my cunt as I anticipate his fingers or his tongue or his dick penetrating me…And toys! Using the flogger, or the paddle (my new favorite) on my ass and thighs until I beg him to stop in the most wanton, breathy voice I’ve ever heard come out of me. Yeah. Damn those mature decisions.
Goodness, I am all worked up! Sir bought me a new vibrator for my birthday, as I said, and I think I’ll have to use it. I don’t even need porn at this point. My imagination is running wild.
As life develops we tend to progress with the relationships in our lives. Shedding acquaintances and the faux friends acquired through time. As we grow, we notice that the circle of true friendships become more about quality verses quantity. Life circumstances dictate the strong ties we build. Either we cherish them- or relationships become another cigarette butt thrown out the car window as we cruise through life on our own bumpy potholed road.
My husband, soul mate, life partner, best friend and yes my KING has opened my eyes to the wonderment of a TRUE relationship. A relationship of understanding, mutual respect, individuality, oneness and compromise. I love his approach to our marriage. Gentle, loving, open, supportive and protective. While we share the same creative mind, our individuality is always our own. Our goals always clear, known and mutual. Our own relationship has been such a strong foundation that many of the same principals transcend to every relationship I encounter. Friends, family even how I deal with various play partners in the scene.
In the recent years he’s opened himself up to learn more about BDSM/ KINK. He loves the beauty and art of the Lifestyle, yet participation isn’t in his grasp. His limited knowledge and experience has had him inquire more. He’s fascinated by many aspects and has done a bit of exploring of his own.
I recall attending a fetish event with him and being so excited he wanted to attend- that I missed the quick lesson in protocol and disclaimer I should have given prior to leaving the house. Long story short, he approached a collared slave and couldn’t understand WHY he was not responding to his very polite introduction and offer of a gentlemanly hand shake. After a few moments of proding the very well behaved slave who was being orderly and obedient- then steps out of his ’sub-space’ and leans over to my husband and courteously says: “Hey man I know you’re new, but I’m not allowed to talk to you. I’m NOT being rude. I just can’t.” Then the slave retreats and assumes the same position his Master left him in.
I caught the tail end of the conversation and saw the slave retreat. A wonderful way to handle the situation I thought and I appreciated the way he approached my husband. After explaining what just happened, my husband and I laughed and it has actually turned into a fond memory for us. Although what made me happy was my husband’s reaction. While we did find humor in the situation, I noticed that he felt embarrassed by his lack of knowledge and his non intended disrespect. He seeked out the slave’s Master and humbly apologized, acknowledging that there was not any intended disrespect by his earlier actions. He simply did not know. My husband did this on his own accord. The Master was kind and generous and welcomed my husband into the scene with a “No harm, No foul…thank you for respecting our protocol.” Most folks would of been intimidated, my husband was man enough to do the right thing.
As we’ve grown in our own personal relationship- he has come to the conclusion that he can appreciate the BDSM Lifestyle, but it is not one he practices. We share many of the same friends from my world and that both adore and love dearly. My husband allows me to be me and practice a Lifestyle independent of his own. I do keep the lines of communication open and the conversation always flowing. He knows all the toys I play with. The submissives I train and those I intend to collar. As he puts it: “Go ahead, do you…I appreciate what you do. I just can’t wrap my head around it.” He still attends fetish events with me and KNOWS who to approach now. lol Although he can’t ‘wrap his head around it’…I do notice how royally comfortable he is when I send my female toys to attend to him and sit at his feet. A King is a King. He IS MY KING and I’m a grateful Queen to share court with him.
Hi there..My name is Sarah (My porn Name being “Sarah Kelly xxx”) and for my Sins i”m an Adult Glamour Model,Pornstar,Swinger and fully Fledged Dominatrix.. I grew up in Ireland,the youngest of 3 girls with 3 older brothers,went to a Catholic School and was taught by Nuns. Those Nuns have alot to answer for,ALOT,I kid you not. We were taught “Sex is for procreation ONLY”and thats inside of marriage! Hence in Ireland, you get so many guilt ridden,horny young girls with “dirty”thoughts that are thoroughly repressed until adult hood, where they break away from the family and home and discover a whole new world outside. Just As i Did upon leaving home for England,A world full of nightclubs, full of men wanting to “Teach” them,of other girls who have masturbated over rude thoughts of discovering their Bisexual side,of beingwatched,of Swingers Clubs and Porn and Erotic images in books,on Tv,all waiting to be eagerly explored and devoured. To be savoured,enjoyed and experienced over and over and then,expanded on as you discover what you like doing to yourself and to others,and what you like having done to you …… Out of that background grew “Sarah Kelly xxx”. The type of normal,unassuming girl you”d pass every day in the street -but who behind closed doors,on set, at a Swingers Club or Sex Party becomes a Dominatrix,Swinger and HardcorePornstar …. In my ever continuing journey i have discovered That im VERY Bisexual and that i LOVE Dominating Guys and “Training”Girls,That I love exhibitionism and using my Strap on Cock,anal sex,Fem Dom scenarios like Ball busting,face sitting,Spanking,cuckolds,footworship and other Fetishes..I love fucking machines,Sex Parties,Swinging,flashing,sucking cock,watching guys spurt and girls gush when i fist them,using vibrators and dildo”s on them on Porn shoots or at Swingers Parties …… and a whole lot more i will share with you ……………….. Its an extensive list,with few boundaries and its being fully explored all the time . Like i say,if only they could see me now – those nuns have ALOT of explaining to do! … They say “God loves a Sinner”…..Well,I guesse he would love me..Read my Blog, I hope you love it,and me,too…. Sarah Kelly xxx
It’s one of the search terms that landed people in my blog. It isn’t one of the oddest ones I’ve seen by any means but this particular one caught my attention because it just sounds… well so cute!
Let me explain.
When I saw it, I immediately imagined a fellow bdsm spanko ingénue sitting in front of their computer, typing this up. Maybe they’ve never had a spanking and have been fantasizing about one… or maybe they’ve been spanked but just lightly and are *just* venturing into something more serious… maybe their top has made promises of impending doom and they are shaking in their boots and dying of arousal. I didn’t imagine any particular gender or age mind you… just that particular mindset of the virginal. I remembered/imagined the sense of intrigue, the near obsession, the curiosity, all so rich in desire and heavy in yearning that they almost have a unique taste or texture, oddly satisfying and yet by innate nature lacking in sensory input which makes it all maddeningly lacking. Can you see it? (remember it?)… looking at pictures, videos… watching the expressions on the bottom’s face, the grimace, the yelp and moan… listening to the sound the wood makes on flesh. Watching the flesh flatten and bounce, see the bruises bloom… reading stories… wondering, “is it that bad?” or “is it worse than this?”.
Tee hee.
Well sweet innocent ones…
It HURTS.
It will overload your senses. It will set all your neurons firing at such rate that you will literally will get stuck between the fight and flight response. The pain will be sharp enough that you wonder why you ever wanted to be on the receiving end.
Then endorphins kick in.
Don’t get me wrong, it still hurts. But now it’s also niiiice. But still hurty.
THEN I started thinking about when I used to work on the hotline for teens to ask any questions they had about sex, etc and the creeps that used to call in and ask the same question over and over again just to hear someone talk about it. There was this one particular guy that kept calling with the same question. The older operators knew his voice and disconnected but anytime he got a new person, he’d trick them into answering his seemingly innocent question and as they were explaining, he would just start asking weirder and weirder questions geared to have you repeat certain terms like “vagina” or “penis” and by this point you could hear he was getting excited and probably jacking off.
*shudder*
For those of you… you know who you are… one word:
EW
EWWW
EEEEEW
EEEEEEWWW
At least you aren’t doing it to poor volunteers who take time out of their busy life to help teens have a safe space to learn about sex.
The reason why I picked the title of my blog can be seen from a little episode between me and The Kitty. As you can read on her blog, she has had a sexual nova burst recently, feeling very horny all day. Now, this is all in all a very good thing. But there were two things that troubled me. For one, I was not there and I was wondering a lot whether she would have felt the same had I been there. For another, she talked again about having sex with other guys and how she was flirting at everybody. This vexed me and got me bitter. I starting feeling, out of despair and some subliminal anger, that she should just go and fuck all she liked, since that seemed to be what she really wanted most of all. And maybe it would really be good for her. I don’t know. How should I? Also she probably would not feel horny anymore once I was around. So I told her on that evening that I had been thinking these things.
Fast forward to yesterday. We were sitting at a cafeteria with one of her friends, talking, when the conversation switched to an “instant sex” topic at a forum they both frequented. Kitty had posted there that soon she might be free to do stuff with guys again. Nobody had replied to that, a fact about which she was a bit annoyed, if not sad. Then the conversation shifted to her plans to use adultmatch and similar sites to find guys to have sex with, since “I might maybe be available” was judged as being less effective in attracting guys than some direct “I want sex, now!”. Guess that’s pretty much true.
Hearing that was quite painfull. I felt that she wasn’t interested in having sex with me, but already planing how to have sex with as many strange guys as she can find, using those dating sites. And what kind of guys would reply to offers like that? Not me. Clearly, I was not good for her and not what she wanted.
We soon talked about it, though I felt very much like not talking about it and just swallowing it down. I told her about my problems with what she had said/done and she told me that she was very happy to hear me say that maybe having sex with other guys would be good for her, interpreting it as a step towards full blown openness, while for me it was mostly a despair reaction. also, during the conversation she talked again about her ideal of a relationship, how much she was sure that that was what she wanted and how much my reservations and feelings conflict with that. Again the suggestion of leaving me. And while the conversation was clearing and help set us straight with each other again, that kept on nagging at me.
But on the other hand, we had a marvelous time. Things really are getting better. I spent roughly half an hour using the new whip on her and we both enjoyed that a lot. There was touching of boobs, rubbing of backs, lots and lots of naked cuddling, some long and rather passionate kissing, a random, unintentional touching of her cunt (which was ok ) and she even touched my erect cock. Also, she bought a new sex toy, that I liked to call “a vibrating piece of ice”, which she even proposed we’d try out together. That didn’t happen in the end, in part I guess because of the conversation we had. And then there was the zoo and the very nice evening and dinner with the Anthropologist and the Composer, two of Kitty’s poly friends, who turned out to be very nice and enjoyable company. We laughed a lot together, it was a very good weekend.
So there you go. Ignorant armies of thoughts, feelings and perceptions clashing on a darkling plain, not being able to recognize each other. I’m trying to navigate, but sometimes I just don’t know where everything is.
One of the sexiest elements of BDSM – to me – is the bondage element. First there is the simple beauty of what can be done with flesh and rope. Then there is the very real sensation of being restrained and at someone else’s mercy.
True bondage will of course require trust. But I am happy to play with Velcro or clip on cuffs to begin with.
I like this as a summer outdoors fantasy. It involves this fictional park where no other person ever goes… so it may be best for me to switch the fantasy indoors.
Indoor bondage fantasies would be great using a four poster bed, or to be a bit more modern a large board room table. The intricate bondings are something I would try with an experienced Dom/me, including suspension. But to start, the simple bonding of tying me up spread-eagle so that I cannot close my legs or bring down my arms… my body is completely exposed to what you want to do to it.
Blindfolds heighten the fantasy as do gags.
I have tried this fantasy a few times but with limited success. The trust was not there, and the tying was done with that in mind so that I could escape should I want to. I’d like to establish a trusting relationship so that I trust you to tie me up so that I can’t escape and give you free reign of my body.
Part One of the story from Wolffie’s collection Cane4Cuff
It is not a standard erotica/ BDSM fare. It is not a standard fantasy slither. It’s a Wolffiction.
Please remeber: it’s ONLY a fantasy:
A Hot Halloween in Jerusalem
Dramatis Personae:
King Richard I,Coeur de Leon, the one who set forth, the brave one
Prince John sans Terre, his brother who stayed behind, the Soft Sword, the smart one
Prince and Sultan Saladin, the stern, yet chivalrous Master of Kingdom of Jerusalem, present custodian of The Goat.
Philip Augustus, king of France
Sir Wolfbane of Bane – meddlesome knight of dubious lineage and intentions.
Princessa Nina d’Queue de Cheval – vagabond princess of very dubious reputation, suspected witch.
Soldiers, knights, cute captives, harems, ghosts, ghouls, the citizens, pumpkin jinns, the goat… the usual… did I mention harems?
The time 1192 Anno Domini, Halloween Eve or thereabouts.
The place: just off the walls of Jerusalem, the other Earth or thereabouts.
The flags and banners on the spears of both armies hung limply in the hot air. There was stench of death and sweat. The city was about to change hands yet another time and the negotiations were hot just like the weather.
King Richard was shouting, sweating, clanking and waving his ironclad fist appropriately.
“Quarter? I give no quarter to nasty unmanly rascals like you. You raped, you pillaged, and you invaded the country, which is mine to invade! And you made the filthy peasants pay to you, not to me! And you took all the women and cattle. And my harem… And … and…. “
“The Goat Sir, I Took THE seven legged Goat o mighty king…..” injected Saladin softly. Saladin’s caftan was rich, steel helmet was wrapped in a green turban; his men bore the standards of the crescent moon.
“… yes and the goat and the girls and….”
“THE Goat Sir!” Sir Wolfbane pointed out.” La Chèvre!”
“Oui, La Chèvre, the Goat! Bring it to me at once! And all the harems and…”
“THE GOAT – he’s got IT!” kindly added Sir Wolfbane. A huge cloak with embroidery of grinning wolves obscured his shiny armor. I do not need to tell you what his helmet looked like.
The wings on Sir John’s helmet finally rose. He was a bit hard on his ears.
“THE Goat! He’s got THE goat? You will bring it to my tent at once! The King cannot soil his hands with such a…. “
“Mon dieu!” injected Philippe.”We’re not here for the infidel goat. Holy Father said that no goat is to be worshiped or….”
“Holy Father did not speak of goats! His Holiness said… “
“Yes but she did! L’sorcière! Nina D’Queue de Cheval! The Ponytail. She said that you need the goat.”
“She is no witch!” shouted Sir John. The wings on his helmet fluttered wildly. ”Her blowjob was absolutely heavenly!”
“You mean she actually blew your job?” Kind Richard scratched his helmet. ”Of course she is L’sorcière. All women are witches! Where is my harem? I remember once when we were raping one of them …..”
“I’ve got THE goat!!!” Prince Saladin was known for his patience. His hands were shaking now. He cast a desperate glance at Sir Wolfbane.
“Yes Sire! The goat! He’s got it!”
“What goat? Oh, you mean la chèvre? Yes! No! The infidel goat goes to my tent! I will examine it at once!”
“With all due respect brother, the goat goes to ME!’
“To me! I am the leader of this crusade and I get to examine THE goat!”
“No, me!”
“Me!”
“MEEEE!”
Sir Wolfbane was grinning in the full discretion of his wolf helmet. They were on his track again.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen.”
They looked at him.
“I am sure we can resolve this little problem like a true Knights Templar and men of good taste.”
“How so, good Sir Wolfbane? You helped me so many times but this requires the Wisdom of Solomon methinks.”
“Well and good, my good Sirs …” quoth Sir Wolfbane. ”You, Sir John, want to examine THE goat in detail, n’est-ce pas? In great detail, right? See what it can do for you and what you could do to it?”
Sir John blushed hard under his helmet, but his eyes shone. “When you put it that way…. Forsoot, , good Sir Wolfbane. That is the truth.”
“And you, my good King, would want the same – especially what it can do to you, but I will not talk of that under the walls of the Holy City…” The King turned his head and bit his tongue. He nodded.
“But you are uncertain about the mechanics of it. How it would work, n’est-ce pas?”
The both nodded looking at each other out of the corner of an eye.
“And that is the real reason for this unsightly quarrel over THE goat. I humbly propose that you both go together in the tent and find out at the same time.. I am sure you will find it surprisingly easy once you get over the initial shyness.”
The King was making circles in the Jerusalem dust with his ironclad toe. “I just don’t know… “
“Oh come come, your Majesty. You know you want to do it and you are the brave Lionheart after all. And I have this pair of lovely devout and pious sluts who will show you exactly the right moves.”
Uh … well… Brother… ” He looked at Sir John.
Sir John smiled shyly: “Brother.”
The King and Sir John hippity hopped towards the tent, iron clad fist in iron clad fist, entourage of pious sluts in tow.
The goat, now forgotten ambled behind them.
King Philippe’s nose wrinkled.
“Mon cul, la chèvre pue!” He waved a scented handkerchief in front of his royal nose. He looked at the goat again then at the receding royal brothers. He hippity hopped after them: “Garcons! Hey, garcons….”
“Finally! Right.” At last Sir Wolfbane could cast always the silly metal gloves and rub his hands like a man, a naked hand on a naked hand. He raised his voice over the gathered armies in front of Jerusalem. He was speaking to multitudinous faces on the walls too. These royal shenanigans of the High Ones were nothing new to them, but Sir Wolfbane had a commanding presence.
“Ok men, listen up. This crappy war is over. Everyone is pardoned and we shall finally start having some fun Take jewels, gold, carpets, and lamps (and THE lamp too), the scrolls…. “
“And THE goat too…..” injected Prince Saladin.
“Yes the goat too! Shut up.”
“You told me to bring up the goat when I talk to Richard.”
“Yes yes, Salahuddin, but if you do not shut up about the damn goat right now I will send you to hell to find out what the Shaitan does to ducks down there.”
“Salaam!” grated Saladin angrily and turned on his heel. Over his shoulder, he added, “I’ll be back!” and stomped off. The turbans and crescent moon banners o his retinue swayed angrily.in the dusty heat,
That sounded too Teutonic to Sir Wolfbane, but he had other things to worry about right now, like that damned Princessa Ponytail. Beside he knew it was true.
Sir Wolfbane spread his hands. Life was good. He liked feeling like Solomon occasionally. He felt just as he did when he and Merlin were devising carved pumpkins and giggling like kids over it.
“…. As I was saying, men, the time of peace of prosperity is at hand! Just hand over the above mentioned. Livestock too. My pickers will lead my choosers through all harems in the city, starting with King Richard’s. Have your women lined up on streets. They do not have to be kneeling but it is a good idea as my choosers come by before our army. There will be no raping before they are brought to my harem for search and testing. But each will be provided with l’cul godois on the spot. “
“What’s l’cul godois Sir?” asked his aide d’camp.
“Dildos my good man!”
“Uhhh…?”
“Butt plugs! We used them all the way down here to prevent evil spirits from enterng the temple of our bodies. Don’t you know anything?! And when I said no raping I meant it! Make sure that each raped… person gets one of those small pumpkin masks we got off Venetians. Do not forget to wish everyone a happy Halloween. Oh yes… and no mock trick and treating. Any suspect witch is to be brought to me at once! I will search her personally con significato!”
Then Sir Wolfbane pulled out his shining sword. “This mess is settled then. Now I have to do something personal. Bring me that old lamp.”
He knew that the only witch he was interested in would not be found in the city where a mean Halloween masquerade was beginning.
He had to catch that elusive Princessa Nina himself.
He rode of in a cloud of dust, in search of THE Ponytail. The Middle Eastern wind billowed his Wolfbane cape. His ghostly entourage flowed after him, translucent in the desert dusk.
Tales have it that he never really returned to his harem, being too busy with THE Ponytail but do not beleive all tall tales.. After all one such tale has it that King Richard and Prince John eventually tired of each other and finding out ‘what the goat can do for you and what you could do to it’ and decided to have a go at Robin Hood and his Merry Men. And that there was much rejoicing in the forest.
*****
Desert ghouls dragged naked Princessa Nina d’Queue de Cheval, the Ponytail to the water hole. In the shadows of red outcroppings water was bitter and the whole place stank in. The sun was westerning.
They were looming over her, giant and gray, stinking to high heaven, drooling all over her. Worst of all, they were dirty.
{c} 2009 Wolffwerks
the rest of he story and other sizzling Wolfferotica can be had righ here:
You know what I am thinking? I am thinking: OK this was supposed to be one measly little post. How the heck did it blow up to a 3 part series?! “Concise” I ain’t.
Pardon the grump-puss routine.
We got some bad news today. Well I got some alarming sounding news after I woke up and before I was half way into the phone convo trying to assess the damage (which was really minimal), I got hit with the second actual bad news. All this before I was fully awake. I knew I should have stayed in bed today.
Monkey’s ass I say.
*sigh*
Oh well. What is one to do? Stuff happens. You gotta work around it. I don’t WANT to work around it. But I don’t really have a choice do I? No I don’t. I’ll figure it out. It could be worse.
BUT, it’s the weekend and I won’t face or deal with reality until Monday.
Now back to our normally scheduled programming…
Luke is the star of most of my fantasies. (Some say unimaginatively so but *I* prefer thinking that I am infatuated!) I tell ya, this makes it hard to masturbate when I’m mad at him. I am serious! Call me crazy but when I am mad at him I don’t want to imagine him pulling my hair, tanning my hide and fucking my ass. *laughing* Yes I know how ridiculous that sounds.
I do imagine other “figures” when I fantasize but these characters are usually faceless and vague… you know, place holders. The only “celebrity” I’ve ever masturbated to is K.D. Lang. I’ve always wondered if she ever sings between her lover’s thighs. *drool*
Anyhow.
If I fall in love with a new fantasy I write it down erotica style and send it to Luke. I usually have 2 or 3 stories in progress going. I am pretty decent at short stories but longer stories require more attention than I am always willing to give… so I just write sections and string them together later. I write non-erotica too but not nearly as much.
Speaking of erotica, I love me some Patrick Califia. I wish he’d write more. He writes amazing erotica. Have you read his stuff? Queer bdsm erotica at it’s very best. Go read one of his books. As a matter of fact go buy one.
But I digress (I see you rolling your eyes!) Most of the time Luke just reads them as entertainment but once in a while, he decides to act on one. Of course he always changes them to suit his own taste which I actually like because while it has elements of my fantasy, I don’t quite know what will happen next. When we both get off on something, it’s just amazing.
BUT the thing about not dating your clone is that regardless of how similar minded you are about sex, you still don’t have an identical fantasy profile. So there has to be compromises. Of course, in a d/s relationship the scales tend to tip towards the top.
For example, I like playing with knives but I don’t necessarily get off on cutting my own damn self. He has to do it to me for it to be hot. He, however, doesn’t like it nearly as much as I do. I’ve already talked about how he feels about threesomes or group sex which is another one of my big turn ons.
And then comes the part about equipment. Sometimes, you just HAVE to have the right equipment. For example, I’d spontaneously orgasm from the mere idea of being locked in a cage and fucked through the bars. I tell you after we put together the big dog crate for our Dane, I was wet for a week. But we don’t have a human cage or really any space for one. Or complete sensory depravation… a decent blindfold and earphones with relatively loud music works pretty well but not as well as a decent hood designed for the job. But that’s way too expensive. Same goes for a good corset. I am not talking about the mass designed junk but a custom made one. Actually I think of being corseted as a cross between bondage and sensory deprivation.
The thing about sensory deprivation and bondage, although they are a heck of a lot less dramatic than being flogged or cut or set on fire… is that they have a deeper degree of mental submission. By that I mean, when I am enduring pain, I have something to do. I am in there, fighting and submitting to the pain. I am patting myself on the back for taking it with grace… or feeling giddy at how he’s reduced me to a puddle. But in sensory deprivation or prolonged bondage, I am not “doing” anything. Even if he is whipping me under bondage, I am not doing as much since I am pretty much stuck there at his mercy, All there is to know is he wants me this way and let what emotions may come wash over me.
It’s so very much more difficult than just submitting to pain. This is much more threatening to one’s identity. You have to, well, willingly give up personal metal/emotional space. Watch yourself become property, utterly controlled. That’s a hell of a lot more difficult and takes a much deeper brand of submission. (only in my opinion) And it’s not something one can do with any old top because it takes much more intricate set up and build up. (once more, I am just speaking for me) And even after I found the right top… it’s not something we can do every day. I come out of a mental submission session much more drained than any other scene, regardless of severity. But this is the domain of MY deep dark fantasies so I am not saying no more. A girl’s gotta have some secrets!
Now in interest of diversity, here are a few of Luke’s favourite fantasies:
-Being sucked off while he is working out – specifically for me to just show up mid workout and service him without a word – can you say narcissistic? *g
-Fucking and torturing me in front of and for an audience – what did I tell ya about the narcissism?
-Me in a wonder woman custom – (I don’t get this one, it’s apparently a guy thing… I can’t imagine wonder woman as a submissive anyway)
-Fisting, always with the fisting… if it’s not golden showers, it’s fisting… I might start needing bigger Kegel weights to keep tight… that or if I ever give birth, it’ll go very smoothly (just kidding, even I am not that delusional)
And finally, I’d like to share the single oddest fantasy I have heard of within consensual kink:
-Fantasy of being devoured… as in eaten… like… as in food. Also known as Vorarephilia.
It produces a problem for me… namely you aren’t around to enjoy it happening caused you’ve been… well slaughtered and stewed. Unless someone cuts off only a piece… but then you probably are in a bit much of physical agony to appreciate it… or maybe not…? Anyway. This would be the point my kink fuse would blow. Yes, I realize I am being a bit literal! That it could very well involve just the role playing for many and I don’t mean those cases… I mean the few cases who literally want to be dinner… you think the fantasy extends to how they are prepared? Like is there a, ooooh marinate me in a wine sauce type thing? And we in the kink community like to say we respect everyone’s kink. To each their own, right? Hard to be as understanding here though… even though nobody is getting hurt unwillingly.
But you gotta keep in mind… there are all shades of rainbow out there.
***Thank you for your attention. This ends this section of ramblings on the subject of fantasies. Please stay tuned for future silly-erotic compositions. Dirty Ingenue out***
Given that this is the first week of the new year, I thought I would take a moment or two and reflect on some of the bigger stories (in my humble opinion) of the last year. It was an interesting year with a lot of events and stories, but some rose to the top.
FetLife: I think this site continues to be the biggest story in the world of Fetish and BDSM. This is now the premier Lifestyle site without a doubt. The have almost tripled in size this past year to over 300,000 members. While other sites may have more members (I am not sure of the actual membership of sites like CollarMe and Alt), FetLife is unique in the quality of the members and the discussions that happen every day in the groups found on this social networking site for kinksters.
The Economy: The economy has had a serious impact on the Lifestyle this year. Many conferences were either canceled this year or were cut back drastically (my favorite event, BlackBEAT, was one of those that had to cut back). Many of us were laid off with the rest of America. This has made running BDSM oriented events, clubs and businesses even more challenging than they already are.
Jack Rinella Runs for Congress: Joe Laiacona, who writes BDSM related books and articles under the pen name Jack Rinella is running for congress. I think the outcome of this election may have some significance for our Lifestyle, especially if he manages to win later this year. I wish him luck.
Atlanta Eagle Raid: When the Atlanta Police decided to raid the Eagle, earlier this year, I do not think that they foresaw the consequences that would come out of it. From rallies, to possibly even altering the outcome of the city election, this has had a serious impact on Atlanta, and will continue to do so in the coming year. This may even serve as a warning to other cities who embark on these kinds of policies.
What stories do you think were important this year? Let me know in the comments!
After Daddy Wendell and Jolie had set various parts of me on fire, we cleaned up the kitchen and moved into the living room. They generously agreed to allow me to take pictures of their scene together, and so I sat quietly on a couch in the corner, trying with all my strength not to grin like a creepy stalker, even though I was really, really excited.
Unfortunately, me sitting “quietly” lasted about 5 minutes, up to the point when Daddy Wendell asked Jolie what their scene should entail. “A rope corset!” I blurted out without thinking, and then apologized profusely. As it turned out, though, they both liked the idea and he pulled out a selection of ropes and got started.
Watching the two of them together was quite intense. Jolie is striking – with her pale skin and dark hair she reminds me a lot of a young Dita Von Teese – and the purple rope looked beautiful wrapped around her. Wendell worked carefully, clearly enjoying himself, as I moved around them, taking pictures of the scene.
(Now do you see why I was ready to do anything Jolie suggested?)
I’m sorry that I can’t post pictures of their faces, because I’d love to share her classic beauty, his intense concentration, and the sweetness of the moments when they would communicate trust and tenderness without saying a word. Daddy Wendell has a kind, evil way of slowly drawing you in with his innocent smile and friendly laugh and then unleashing his sadism in one wicked, unexpected blow. He is by far the scariest teddy bear I’ve ever met.
After Jolie was fully bound, he applied clothespins in across her chest and pulled them off with one sharp tug…
and then he held her close, alternately slapping and caressing her face. He used a firm hand and hit hard, but had such a gentle touch, and all the while she was smiling and moaning or gasping and wincing so beautifully I was in awe that I was able to capture even a little of it.
After they paused and I brought them some water, we went downstairs into the dungeon to watch the scene that was playing out there (yes, there are pictures, and yes, I will share some in another post.) Daddy Wendell and Jolie sat together on the couch and soon he was untying the ropes and sliding clover clamps onto her nipples and she was slung over his lap for a paddling.
The glow of a heater along her body was just perfectly gorgeous:
Daddy Wendell with his hand up, ready to bring hard leather down onto a very pink ass
Jolie trying to keep her composure as blow after blow landed. The look on her face was amazing – a combination of beauty, pain and pleasure that almost reminded me of fervent, pious prayer…
..if your god happens to be an evil mother-fucking teddy bear, that is.
I owe gratuitous thanks to both Daddy Wendell and Jolie for letting me photograph their time together – it was my first time taking pictures of someone else’s scene, and it was an incredible experience. And thanks also to the residents (denizens?) of the Big Pink House who regularly lend their space for classes and parties for the kink community.
And after all of this…I’m almost afraid to say it out loud, but I was surprised to discover…
as much as I love being in a scene, I think I might enjoy taking pictures of one even more.
Now where am I gonna find myself a kinky therapist to talk that over with?
The idea of his hands gently running over my skin, awakening the sensitive nerves all along my most sensitive areas; the thought of the biting sting of a quick, shallow slap or nails digging into my flesh; the heat and moisture building in my cunt as I anticipate his fingers or his tongue or his dick penetrating me…And toys! Using the flogger, or the paddle (my new favorite) on my ass and thighs until I beg him to stop in the most wanton, breathy voice I’ve ever heard come out of me. Yeah. Damn those mature decisions.
