19 months.
It has been 19 months.. 19 long.. dry.. and very sad months. That is almost two years, people. Like a desert, I lie dry and dusty, awaiting even the barest sprinkle of rain. All life and hope shriveling in the absence of clouds, not a single drop to slake my deep thirst.
Okay, yes, I'm being intentionally dramatic here. However, for someone as sexual as I am, 19 months is painful torture. Don't get me wrong, I am pretty patient and I can go months without. It's far from my preference, but I can manage. It's at about the six month mark where I start to squirm a bit.
Oh-ho, the six month mark has come and gone.. three times.
My sex life, much like my romantic life, appears to be the universe's idea of a joke. Here, have this enormous sex drive, but not be able to do anything about it! Haha! Through much trial-and-error, I've discovered that it makes no difference whatsoever if I am proactive or if I am passive. It is 100% dependent on luck and, apparently, on whatever is meant to happen at any given time.
I'm pretty sure this is the longest I have ever gone without sex and, frankly, it's very much starting to wear on me. To my credit, I have tried to deal and to not take it personally. I have been patient and trying to send out the right energy to attract what I'm looking for. It's just, apparently, not meant to be...
I'm starting to feel a bit bitter about it, frankly. There's really only so much masturbation a person can do, you know? It's not at all a substitute for what I want, which is the slow and sensual touch of another person. Making love, kissing, savoring another person's body. Fucking. Mouths, tongues, skin, the taste and scent of a woman's nexus. Being penetrated by someone else, feeling them, the weight, the wholeness of both our bodies connecting, on top of me. I want to run my fingers over someone's skin for hours, to lick and bite their neck, to make them squirm, and to hear their breathing and soft moans in my ear.
On the humorous side, I'm actually a bit anxious about it having been so long because I'm pretty sure whoever gets me next is going to have something akin to a teenage boy on their hands. Like... the barest anything will likely set me off into ridiculous, overblown paroxysms. On one hand, that might be fun, but on the other, it might be kind of embarrassing.
Anyway.. I'll be the one over here in the corner praying for rain and contemplating doing a rain dance. Wish me luck...
Monday, September 19, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Food for Thought
BDSM’s Dirty Secret – The Real Risk of Kinky Sex
By: Midori
Published: August 15, 2011
As kinky folks, most of us have heard of the risks associated with certain activities we like: rope cuts off circulation, bruises invite suspicion and speculation, infected wounds or bites just plain suck and breath play can flat out be deadly... but there's more.
Kink and Sadomasochism come with a load of risks. The list is long enough to make your eyes glaze over. But, I'm not here to trot out the usual suspects. Yes, they're real and no, you shouldn't ignore them, but there's another set of dangers that often go unmentioned. They are intrinsic to kink and yet so potentially threatening to some that they do everything within their power, subconsciously, to avoid them.
That danger inherent in SM is….
(Cue horror movie soundtrack….)
Intimacy and human connection.
Yes, intimacy.
Because, at some level, SM demands participants to be true to their desires and hungers, vulnerabilities and savagery. Fully engaged kink insists on full presence without pretense and willingness to connect the raw humanity to another’s raw humanity. The elegant defenses and social rules of appropriate behavior are built up by civilization and maintained in culture to insulate ourselves from that dangerous primal state. SM, along with some sports, is one of the few remaining semi-sanctioned arenas where the raw emotions and connections are permitted and even celebrated. To engage in this behavior may lead to a flood of emotions, elation and even risk failure to achieve connection, with the added danger of feeling genuine loneliness. It takes guts, skill and personal risk to fly high with another person.
This is a mighty scary proposition to some people.
But there’s a solution for people who can’t bear intimacy or potential failure. Highly technical scenes with clear standards of tangible procedural success can minimize the risk of messy emotional authenticity.
Over the years of I’ve been to more than a few dungeon parties – big and small, public and underground, posh and sleazy. Usually the scenes I see make me hot, but a few would leave me troubled, cold or deeply sad. Were they too shocking or taboo for me? No. Were they technically incompetent? No.
Instead, they were highly technical, well-executed and fascinating to watch. Multiple floggers fly and spin, wowing the crowd, in a spectacular choreography of Florentine flogging. Single tails and bull whips snap and dance stunningly on the skin delivering subtle strokes and deep cuts. Ropes wrap around limbs suspending flesh in complicated mid-air acrobatic poses. We gather around for these and other skill intensive scenes to ooh and ahh. But eventually I’d walk away, wondering why I was suddenly overcome by sadness. As I step away, people get in line to be the next to bottom, as the top processes yet another through an exquisite set of maneuvers.
I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not watching two people sharing an experience, but rather two strangers having separate thrills over one activity. The top feels satisfaction in displaying competence in a set of measurable standards (The ropes go on. The person goes up. They come down and they’re still in one piece), while the bottom gets to have a self-contained experience delivered by a competent technician. The human factor of the other person seems irrelevant in either case.
When I see this, it feels like SM is reduced to an amusement park ride, and people choose if they’re the rider or ride operator. Or maybe it’s the bungee jump. When I’ve gone bungee jumping, I looked for a service provider with qualifications and a good reputation. I certainly didn’t expect, nor want, any raw human connection with the dude strapping me in. I wanted him out of my head and heart. I wanted a thrill and to be able to talk about it to my friends. Maybe that’s what some people are seeking in their SM.
Recently someone came to talk to me about the suspension he did. Breathless with excitement, he talked to me about the thrill of doing it. Never once did he mention the other person he tied up. There was that sinking feeling in my heart again.
The more difficult the technique is, the harder it is to establish that human connection. But the more technical the play is, the easier it is to visibly ascertain a level of success and external validation. Emotional and mental states are, by nature, nebulous and not easy to determine success. There can always be doubts if the other person flew as high as you did, or if they flew at all. “Was it good for you?”
The greater the technical demand, the further at bay you keep the risk of intimacy, vulnerability and disappointments. To experience emotional connection in highly technical scenes is truly challenging. I’ve seen it done and it’s hot, but their biggest expertise went well beyond the complicated ties or whips. It was their willingness to be naked to the soul with the other person. Sadly, the intangible emotional scene success seems rarely celebrated as we’re distracted by flashy and tangible skill standards.
Firmly establishing a set rules for play where disconnect is the norm in, effect lowers the bar, guarantees and redefines success. Super difficult techniques can protect the players from biggest risk of all in SM – intimacy.
But if you play hard with nothing more than the most distilled, simple techniques, with teeth bared, sweaty, breathy and entwined with your partner as you expose your darkest desires to them, leaving you exhausted and elated in one another’s arms, congratulations – you are truly a pleasure artist.
By: Midori
Published: August 15, 2011
As kinky folks, most of us have heard of the risks associated with certain activities we like: rope cuts off circulation, bruises invite suspicion and speculation, infected wounds or bites just plain suck and breath play can flat out be deadly... but there's more.
Kink and Sadomasochism come with a load of risks. The list is long enough to make your eyes glaze over. But, I'm not here to trot out the usual suspects. Yes, they're real and no, you shouldn't ignore them, but there's another set of dangers that often go unmentioned. They are intrinsic to kink and yet so potentially threatening to some that they do everything within their power, subconsciously, to avoid them.
That danger inherent in SM is….
(Cue horror movie soundtrack….)
Intimacy and human connection.
Yes, intimacy.
Because, at some level, SM demands participants to be true to their desires and hungers, vulnerabilities and savagery. Fully engaged kink insists on full presence without pretense and willingness to connect the raw humanity to another’s raw humanity. The elegant defenses and social rules of appropriate behavior are built up by civilization and maintained in culture to insulate ourselves from that dangerous primal state. SM, along with some sports, is one of the few remaining semi-sanctioned arenas where the raw emotions and connections are permitted and even celebrated. To engage in this behavior may lead to a flood of emotions, elation and even risk failure to achieve connection, with the added danger of feeling genuine loneliness. It takes guts, skill and personal risk to fly high with another person.
This is a mighty scary proposition to some people.
But there’s a solution for people who can’t bear intimacy or potential failure. Highly technical scenes with clear standards of tangible procedural success can minimize the risk of messy emotional authenticity.
Over the years of I’ve been to more than a few dungeon parties – big and small, public and underground, posh and sleazy. Usually the scenes I see make me hot, but a few would leave me troubled, cold or deeply sad. Were they too shocking or taboo for me? No. Were they technically incompetent? No.
Instead, they were highly technical, well-executed and fascinating to watch. Multiple floggers fly and spin, wowing the crowd, in a spectacular choreography of Florentine flogging. Single tails and bull whips snap and dance stunningly on the skin delivering subtle strokes and deep cuts. Ropes wrap around limbs suspending flesh in complicated mid-air acrobatic poses. We gather around for these and other skill intensive scenes to ooh and ahh. But eventually I’d walk away, wondering why I was suddenly overcome by sadness. As I step away, people get in line to be the next to bottom, as the top processes yet another through an exquisite set of maneuvers.
I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not watching two people sharing an experience, but rather two strangers having separate thrills over one activity. The top feels satisfaction in displaying competence in a set of measurable standards (The ropes go on. The person goes up. They come down and they’re still in one piece), while the bottom gets to have a self-contained experience delivered by a competent technician. The human factor of the other person seems irrelevant in either case.
When I see this, it feels like SM is reduced to an amusement park ride, and people choose if they’re the rider or ride operator. Or maybe it’s the bungee jump. When I’ve gone bungee jumping, I looked for a service provider with qualifications and a good reputation. I certainly didn’t expect, nor want, any raw human connection with the dude strapping me in. I wanted him out of my head and heart. I wanted a thrill and to be able to talk about it to my friends. Maybe that’s what some people are seeking in their SM.
Recently someone came to talk to me about the suspension he did. Breathless with excitement, he talked to me about the thrill of doing it. Never once did he mention the other person he tied up. There was that sinking feeling in my heart again.
The more difficult the technique is, the harder it is to establish that human connection. But the more technical the play is, the easier it is to visibly ascertain a level of success and external validation. Emotional and mental states are, by nature, nebulous and not easy to determine success. There can always be doubts if the other person flew as high as you did, or if they flew at all. “Was it good for you?”
The greater the technical demand, the further at bay you keep the risk of intimacy, vulnerability and disappointments. To experience emotional connection in highly technical scenes is truly challenging. I’ve seen it done and it’s hot, but their biggest expertise went well beyond the complicated ties or whips. It was their willingness to be naked to the soul with the other person. Sadly, the intangible emotional scene success seems rarely celebrated as we’re distracted by flashy and tangible skill standards.
Firmly establishing a set rules for play where disconnect is the norm in, effect lowers the bar, guarantees and redefines success. Super difficult techniques can protect the players from biggest risk of all in SM – intimacy.
But if you play hard with nothing more than the most distilled, simple techniques, with teeth bared, sweaty, breathy and entwined with your partner as you expose your darkest desires to them, leaving you exhausted and elated in one another’s arms, congratulations – you are truly a pleasure artist.
Thursday, September 08, 2011
'What is it about service?'
I borrowed this from a thread on FetLife, where the original poster, a dominant, inquired, "I would really like to hear other people's take on what makes receiving domestic service so fucking hot."
I liked the following answer from another dominant so much that I wanted to put it here.
I liked the following answer from another dominant so much that I wanted to put it here.
It is, for me, this undeniable feeling of dedication to the one being served. Our distractions are stripped away.
Ego is absent.
It is the depth of our discipline to that that is able to remove these distractions. What remains is the sole focus of carrying out a complete and selfless act of dedication to that one's needs, wants -- to its completion. This act may be simple, but its simple gesture is likened to one paying homage.
Homage is very intimate.
This act builds the dynamic. It is an opportunity to display, with grace, what has been practiced, whether it be in boot blacking, formal tea, food service, or holding grace through stance and postures.
Why is this so important? Why the dedication and small rituals when presenting service? Partly it separates us from simple acts one would receive as courtesy (say, from a family restaurant or the grocery kid at the supermarket), partly because in our vanilla lives we don't often get that opportunity to be in a space to fill that empty vessel.
We are starved and for those moments, the act of service and receiving it restores that balance. We are kings, we are gentlemen and ladies, courtesans, cicisbeos, and chevaliers. whatever part of the spectrum we play in, we are cherished and valued.
We are fed.
Handing someone a cup of coffee is just handing over a cup of coffee, but present that with genuine grace, structure, poise and you separate yourself from a whole group of others. This is the difference. This is what makes genuine service, service.
I am afforded the opportunity to sit back and breathe in, to anticipate the service, to really receive it, as I witness it. I am able to see distinct motion and see that what is expected or shown, has been displayed correctly.
Receiving a feeling of genuine care from service, displaying it in a flawless manner, having needs be the focus, stripping away one's vulnerabilities and distractions and seeing that person thrive from their act, this is the reward for me.
-- TheDisciple
Sunday, September 04, 2011
Vulnerability
My goal at the start of this year was to work on caring less about what others think and, to that end, I have made great strides. Still a work in progress, to be sure, but I'm pretty pleased with myself. Recently, a new theme has presented itself in my life and will take over my personal growth focus: vulnerability.
I could write a book on myself and how I defend from displaying even the barest hint of vulnerability. How I find being vulnerable to be unbearable, terrifying, and excruciating, so I avoid it at all costs. The result is that I live in my own personal kind of hell, with everything locked in tight, to be dealt with quietly, alone, in the dark recesses of my own personal fortress.
I had a dream the other night, about running into JC, which brought up all of those related emotions and which has given me food for thought over the past few days. She and I were together for two and a half years; by far the healthiest relationship I've had to date. Our break up was devastating to me, then I healed, then I saw her again and the wounds were ripped open, then I spent an embarrassingly long amount of time trying to re-heal and trying to stop pining and wanting something that never really existed in the first place.
I did succeed and I did get over her again. That is why this dream took me by surprise, but it was very interesting. In the dream, we flirted while we caught up, but there was no desire, really, to be with her in a romantic way. There was, however, a real desire to be with her sexually. That, I feel, will never go away entirely.
JC and I will always have a deep and caring friendship to fall back on. Our split was highly amicable, just both of us admitting that as romantic partners, we weren't a good fit. One of her chief complaints about me is my inability to be emotionally intimate, especially in a verbal fashion. She has a PhD in psychology, so talking about feelings is obviously huge for her.
I just... as much as I trusted her and loved her.. I could not bare myself like that. I would draw a blank in discussions and have no idea what to say. In some ways, it's very frustrating because the feelings are there, but I can't manage to get them out in words or in ways that most people expect. Not to mention, I have a legitimate personality quirk (alexithymia) that makes it difficult for me to find the words to match what I'm feeling, so that combined with the person sitting there, staring at me, waiting with bated breath for what's to come out of my mouth next... it's terribly nerve-wracking, full of pressure, and not at all conducive to my opening up and sharing the most tender and sensitive parts of myself.
On the other hand, what made our sex life so hot, was due greatly in part to the fact that the only time I was able to be completely bare, open, and vulnerable with her was in bed. We had loads of mind-blowing sex and I was over-the-moon delighted to discover what a dirty, experimental, and sexual creature she was. I think about all the various moments we had together and the biggest thing to stand out was how open, giving of myself, and completely vulnerable I was. And, subsequently, how fucking HOT that made things.
My feeling that comfortable to be so bare with her is absolutely why it was the hottest sex either one of us had had to date. JC is still my benchmark for 'hottest sex ever' and while I did have one experience after JC that surprised me by coming close, the lack of vulnerability, love, and caring was what kept that experience from being as good.
I had hoped, in a small part of my heart, that my vulnerability during sexual intimacy would be enough. That she would see that I was completely open and giving her everything that I had. That she would be able to see how deeply I felt and cared and wanted her, and that that would be enough. Obviously, though, sexual intimacy is generally not enough to fuel a real, healthy, adult relationship.
A lot goes on in my head and most of it I keep to myself. I'm going to be working on courage, which is living with my heart. Vulnerability is one of the keys to happiness.
(If you are on a mobile device, you probably can't see the video above, but you should come back and watch it. It's a superb and funny TED talk on the subject of vulnerability.)
I could write a book on myself and how I defend from displaying even the barest hint of vulnerability. How I find being vulnerable to be unbearable, terrifying, and excruciating, so I avoid it at all costs. The result is that I live in my own personal kind of hell, with everything locked in tight, to be dealt with quietly, alone, in the dark recesses of my own personal fortress.
I had a dream the other night, about running into JC, which brought up all of those related emotions and which has given me food for thought over the past few days. She and I were together for two and a half years; by far the healthiest relationship I've had to date. Our break up was devastating to me, then I healed, then I saw her again and the wounds were ripped open, then I spent an embarrassingly long amount of time trying to re-heal and trying to stop pining and wanting something that never really existed in the first place.
I did succeed and I did get over her again. That is why this dream took me by surprise, but it was very interesting. In the dream, we flirted while we caught up, but there was no desire, really, to be with her in a romantic way. There was, however, a real desire to be with her sexually. That, I feel, will never go away entirely.
JC and I will always have a deep and caring friendship to fall back on. Our split was highly amicable, just both of us admitting that as romantic partners, we weren't a good fit. One of her chief complaints about me is my inability to be emotionally intimate, especially in a verbal fashion. She has a PhD in psychology, so talking about feelings is obviously huge for her.
I just... as much as I trusted her and loved her.. I could not bare myself like that. I would draw a blank in discussions and have no idea what to say. In some ways, it's very frustrating because the feelings are there, but I can't manage to get them out in words or in ways that most people expect. Not to mention, I have a legitimate personality quirk (alexithymia) that makes it difficult for me to find the words to match what I'm feeling, so that combined with the person sitting there, staring at me, waiting with bated breath for what's to come out of my mouth next... it's terribly nerve-wracking, full of pressure, and not at all conducive to my opening up and sharing the most tender and sensitive parts of myself.
On the other hand, what made our sex life so hot, was due greatly in part to the fact that the only time I was able to be completely bare, open, and vulnerable with her was in bed. We had loads of mind-blowing sex and I was over-the-moon delighted to discover what a dirty, experimental, and sexual creature she was. I think about all the various moments we had together and the biggest thing to stand out was how open, giving of myself, and completely vulnerable I was. And, subsequently, how fucking HOT that made things.
My feeling that comfortable to be so bare with her is absolutely why it was the hottest sex either one of us had had to date. JC is still my benchmark for 'hottest sex ever' and while I did have one experience after JC that surprised me by coming close, the lack of vulnerability, love, and caring was what kept that experience from being as good.
I had hoped, in a small part of my heart, that my vulnerability during sexual intimacy would be enough. That she would see that I was completely open and giving her everything that I had. That she would be able to see how deeply I felt and cared and wanted her, and that that would be enough. Obviously, though, sexual intimacy is generally not enough to fuel a real, healthy, adult relationship.
A lot goes on in my head and most of it I keep to myself. I'm going to be working on courage, which is living with my heart. Vulnerability is one of the keys to happiness.
(If you are on a mobile device, you probably can't see the video above, but you should come back and watch it. It's a superb and funny TED talk on the subject of vulnerability.)
Monday, August 29, 2011
Fairness
The way I was raised, by my mother's example, no gift is given freely. Drilled into my head and extremely difficult to shake, even when it upsets my partners and doesn't serve me well, is that every gift given garners some sort of debt. I've thus spent my life with a mental tally sheet -- not so much because I'm concerned about whether I'm getting my share, but because I want things to be fair and that everyone involved be happy and satisfied.
When I originally broached the subject of providing service in exchange for beatings, it took the form of 'trade'. And, as trade, it is important to me that Mistress feels that I am working adequately to pay for her time and energy. With weekly playdates, it put me well behind in terms of hours worked and what I would owe for a session.
Things have evolved, I feel, into more of a personal service relationship rather than a tit-for-tat straight trade. What I mean by that, 'straight trade', is strictly business. I recently had a brief discussion with her regarding how I feel that things are perhaps more fair now that I have play dates every other week, in terms of the hours I'm able to work in that time. She thought about it and, bless her, she told me that she didn't think of it that way.
So, even though things were originally broached as a trade situation, to my delight, things have, in reality, become more of a personal service situation. After talking with her, I feel I can relax somewhat on keeping a mental tally, of fairness, and know that she's satisfied.
When I originally broached the subject of providing service in exchange for beatings, it took the form of 'trade'. And, as trade, it is important to me that Mistress feels that I am working adequately to pay for her time and energy. With weekly playdates, it put me well behind in terms of hours worked and what I would owe for a session.
Things have evolved, I feel, into more of a personal service relationship rather than a tit-for-tat straight trade. What I mean by that, 'straight trade', is strictly business. I recently had a brief discussion with her regarding how I feel that things are perhaps more fair now that I have play dates every other week, in terms of the hours I'm able to work in that time. She thought about it and, bless her, she told me that she didn't think of it that way.
So, even though things were originally broached as a trade situation, to my delight, things have, in reality, become more of a personal service situation. After talking with her, I feel I can relax somewhat on keeping a mental tally, of fairness, and know that she's satisfied.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Safety
One of the most unexpected things I've found while exploring this whole service thing is how comfortable and how safe it feels to be fully myself. Not just the parts of me that are silly or dorky or that I often keep to myself for fear of judgment or whatnot. I mean that I'm free to fully be myself, in the broadest sense. Most surprisingly, what I'm finding is how freeing and safe it feels to be as giving of myself as I want.
It's 'weird', but I have a deep need to give and to do. I need to feel helpful, useful, and wanted. I'm someone who really enjoys giving, making others happy, and, honestly, I enjoy putting others ahead of myself. I don't know how to describe it, other than it just doesn't feel right any other way. Not to mention, I have difficulty expressing my feelings, so the primary way that I show people I care for them is to do things. I realize now that I am a service-oriented submissive; I love being helpful, useful, needed. I love to make the lives of the people I care for easier and I want them to know that they are loved and appreciated.
The problem has been that it has, historically, been extremely unsafe for me to be this way in most of my vanilla relationships, including my familial ones. It's tough being a person who thrives on the things I do, particularly when people can be so selfish and so easily take advantage. I've spent a lot of time trying to please the people I care about, but never without danger and rarely in a healthy manner.
I started this life very idealistic and naive and I've had to harden myself up quite a bit. I learned that I had to withhold things and to stay guarded. I look back over my life and there's a lot of being taken advantage of or being taken for granted. Being manipulated or even abused by those who recognized the right buttons to push. It took me way too long, but after all the shit I went through in my last romantic relationship, I finally reached my limit and found the balls to stand up for myself. I am honestly totally fed up and no longer willing to take shit off of people.
So, it's ironic to me, that after becoming so guarded, that I suddenly feel really safe being open, giving, and totally myself.
I don't know why I'm this way, but it gives me great pleasure to make other people happy. I love showing people I pay attention to them by attending to their desires. I particularly love if I can read someone and provide what they want or need without them even having to speak a word. The reward of someone's delight, the awe of my remembering their preferences, is so worth the time and energy!
I have worked in the service industry for a very long time and I don't think it's any coincidence that a) I am drawn to this line of work or b) that I'm pretty good at it. Being thoughtful, anticipating someone's desires, remembering the things they like or how they like them, going a step or two beyond what is expected with the hope of putting a smile on someone's face... all of these are things I naturally do for those I care about. It's just that it hasn't always worked out very well for me.
Perhaps it's because I have empathic tendencies, but another thing is that I can't be happy if the people around me aren't happy. It also feels selfish to put myself ahead of someone else and I just feel much more comfortable if I let another person have first pick over me. I do have self-sacrificing tendencies, in that I'm happy to put myself second if I can be of service for someone or something greater than myself. I'm drawn to service, to helping others, and I'm most happy when I can do that.
A couple of my friends have cautioned me to be careful, afraid that I might get taken advantage of. I assure them that they don't understand because if they did, they'd see there's no worry at all. Mistress is so wonderful and has only my best interests at heart. She is extremely giving, kind, and thoughtful, so it is my absolute pleasure to look after her. I know that I can approach her with any concerns and I also know that she has my back and is looking out for me.
What they also don't understand is the amazing feeling that comes from being fully recognized. For the first time, I'm free to be myself because someone finally sees who I am and understands my need to give. Not only that, but I feel like Mistress knows that what I have to offer is given of myself as a gift. It's this difference of perspective -- gracefully accepting someone's gift, rather than taking what's on offer without any thought -- that makes all the difference.
It's really the most marvelous feeling and so freeing to be able to be totally myself! I can do what I love -- giving, doing, putting others ahead of myself -- and feel totally safe and comfortable.
It's 'weird', but I have a deep need to give and to do. I need to feel helpful, useful, and wanted. I'm someone who really enjoys giving, making others happy, and, honestly, I enjoy putting others ahead of myself. I don't know how to describe it, other than it just doesn't feel right any other way. Not to mention, I have difficulty expressing my feelings, so the primary way that I show people I care for them is to do things. I realize now that I am a service-oriented submissive; I love being helpful, useful, needed. I love to make the lives of the people I care for easier and I want them to know that they are loved and appreciated.
The problem has been that it has, historically, been extremely unsafe for me to be this way in most of my vanilla relationships, including my familial ones. It's tough being a person who thrives on the things I do, particularly when people can be so selfish and so easily take advantage. I've spent a lot of time trying to please the people I care about, but never without danger and rarely in a healthy manner.
I started this life very idealistic and naive and I've had to harden myself up quite a bit. I learned that I had to withhold things and to stay guarded. I look back over my life and there's a lot of being taken advantage of or being taken for granted. Being manipulated or even abused by those who recognized the right buttons to push. It took me way too long, but after all the shit I went through in my last romantic relationship, I finally reached my limit and found the balls to stand up for myself. I am honestly totally fed up and no longer willing to take shit off of people.
So, it's ironic to me, that after becoming so guarded, that I suddenly feel really safe being open, giving, and totally myself.
I don't know why I'm this way, but it gives me great pleasure to make other people happy. I love showing people I pay attention to them by attending to their desires. I particularly love if I can read someone and provide what they want or need without them even having to speak a word. The reward of someone's delight, the awe of my remembering their preferences, is so worth the time and energy!
I have worked in the service industry for a very long time and I don't think it's any coincidence that a) I am drawn to this line of work or b) that I'm pretty good at it. Being thoughtful, anticipating someone's desires, remembering the things they like or how they like them, going a step or two beyond what is expected with the hope of putting a smile on someone's face... all of these are things I naturally do for those I care about. It's just that it hasn't always worked out very well for me.
Perhaps it's because I have empathic tendencies, but another thing is that I can't be happy if the people around me aren't happy. It also feels selfish to put myself ahead of someone else and I just feel much more comfortable if I let another person have first pick over me. I do have self-sacrificing tendencies, in that I'm happy to put myself second if I can be of service for someone or something greater than myself. I'm drawn to service, to helping others, and I'm most happy when I can do that.
A couple of my friends have cautioned me to be careful, afraid that I might get taken advantage of. I assure them that they don't understand because if they did, they'd see there's no worry at all. Mistress is so wonderful and has only my best interests at heart. She is extremely giving, kind, and thoughtful, so it is my absolute pleasure to look after her. I know that I can approach her with any concerns and I also know that she has my back and is looking out for me.
What they also don't understand is the amazing feeling that comes from being fully recognized. For the first time, I'm free to be myself because someone finally sees who I am and understands my need to give. Not only that, but I feel like Mistress knows that what I have to offer is given of myself as a gift. It's this difference of perspective -- gracefully accepting someone's gift, rather than taking what's on offer without any thought -- that makes all the difference.
It's really the most marvelous feeling and so freeing to be able to be totally myself! I can do what I love -- giving, doing, putting others ahead of myself -- and feel totally safe and comfortable.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Favorites
Mistress gave me an assignment this week, to write about what, in our sessions, that I'm finding that I like most and least. The issue for me is that this is not at all a simple question with an easy answer. There are a great many variables to take into account. So, much like when she asked me this question, post-beating when I was feeling stoned and spacy, I ponder this question and find it really difficult to answer simply.
I think the conclusion I've come to is that, so far, there isn't anything I don't like. I enjoy all of the different sensations and I like that she switches things up and varies them. There are things I don't like as much as others, but it so happens that those things cause her obvious delight and I like hearing her laugh and have a good time much more than I dislike any activity. So, no complaints and nothing I want less of. (that is my honest answer and not a cop-out to avoid answering the question)
On the other side of the coin, there are way too many things I love -- haha... -- and I will try to narrow it down..
While I like all of the implements and sensations, if I had to pick, I think my most favorite thing is when she pulls my hair and spanks me at the same time. There is something super hot about that and it feels really good. I do so love to have my hair pulled...
Barehanded spankings are at the top of my list, but I do enjoy the differing sensations of the other weapons and I enjoy not knowing what's coming next. I love being bound, tied or held down, the various cuffs and restraints, being blindfolded. I also really love when she banters with me throughout. I love the marks afterwards and the sore nipples, my private souvenirs, especially when she makes them on purpose. I love her awareness of the senses; the scratching, the caressing, or the deliciousness of well-timed application of ice on very red, hot, and sore skin.
I really have no complaints whatsoever and I pretty much enjoy being on the receiving end of whatever she feels like doling out at the time. It's all so good, so masterfully orchestrated, I always leave feeling seriously bowled over at how fucking amazing things were. I wander out of there spacy, floaty, high, more than satisfied, and deeply grateful to her for her skill, time, and energy. Also a little bit of wondering how I got to be so lucky, because I really am!
I think the conclusion I've come to is that, so far, there isn't anything I don't like. I enjoy all of the different sensations and I like that she switches things up and varies them. There are things I don't like as much as others, but it so happens that those things cause her obvious delight and I like hearing her laugh and have a good time much more than I dislike any activity. So, no complaints and nothing I want less of. (that is my honest answer and not a cop-out to avoid answering the question)
On the other side of the coin, there are way too many things I love -- haha... -- and I will try to narrow it down..
While I like all of the implements and sensations, if I had to pick, I think my most favorite thing is when she pulls my hair and spanks me at the same time. There is something super hot about that and it feels really good. I do so love to have my hair pulled...
Barehanded spankings are at the top of my list, but I do enjoy the differing sensations of the other weapons and I enjoy not knowing what's coming next. I love being bound, tied or held down, the various cuffs and restraints, being blindfolded. I also really love when she banters with me throughout. I love the marks afterwards and the sore nipples, my private souvenirs, especially when she makes them on purpose. I love her awareness of the senses; the scratching, the caressing, or the deliciousness of well-timed application of ice on very red, hot, and sore skin.
I really have no complaints whatsoever and I pretty much enjoy being on the receiving end of whatever she feels like doling out at the time. It's all so good, so masterfully orchestrated, I always leave feeling seriously bowled over at how fucking amazing things were. I wander out of there spacy, floaty, high, more than satisfied, and deeply grateful to her for her skill, time, and energy. Also a little bit of wondering how I got to be so lucky, because I really am!
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Three Mistresses
There are times where I feel emotionally out-of-sorts and I just don't feel like myself. I cast around trying to figure out what I need to feel better.. Do I want alcohol? No.. Do I want weed? No.. Junk food? No.. Masturbation? No.. I'll simply be feeling agitated and cranky, with no solution. I go through the list of possible remedies and none of it's right.
Well, at least until I land on being beaten. I'm not quite used to that being the answer sometimes and I'm also not sure exactly why it is, but quite honestly, being spanked is exactly what I need sometimes.
I've been having a couple of rough weeks emotionally, due to various things that keep happening one after another.. hormones, my stupid job, trying to wean myself off weed so that I can get a new job (pre-employment drug screen), and subsequently, not enough sleep. I've been very irritable and bitchy and basically not at all myself. Mistress, the wonderful, perceptive woman that she is, recognized that I needed to be beaten and made time to do just that.
I arrived at the Domme house and we hung out and socialized a bit with one of her Domme friends, to whom she extended the invitation to knock on the door if the friend felt like spanking someone. I was amused and, I admit, hoping it would happen. We headed upstairs to the room she'd picked out for the evening. This room consists of a couch and a spanking horse that has been affectionately and humorously dubbed 'the rape rack'. I encourage you to say it out loud, it's pretty fun. Rape rack!
She had me move the spanking horse more into the middle of the room and then laid some towels over it, all the while giving me playful and meaningful looks. I still get shy and blushy, especially at the beginning of our sessions. I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to just strip off so that she doesn't have to ask, but it feels kind of weird and awkward to do that without any sort of instruction, so I like to wait until she tells me to undress.
Get on spanking horse, tied down. Mitten cuff things. Blindfolded. Fingernails scraping my skin, caresses. Starts spanking, easy at first. Whip.. bare hand.. paddle.. spanking my ass, thighs, shoulders, pussy. Warming me up.
Tickling because she likes to see me squirm. Beating me all over with various implements.. paddle, slapper, rubber flogger, leather flogger. She then stopped, walked out of the room, closing the door and leaving me strapped down and blindfolded. She was gone for a while, leaving me wondering what she was doing.
Returns and lights a clove cigarette, brushing the tip over my skin, the warm, reddened skin of my shoulders and ass. I've discovered I love the fear and danger of this. I trust Mistress implicitly and I know that she is expert at what she does, yet there is still an element of fear, which is oddly arousing.
A knock at the door, making me chuckle a little. Another Mistress popped in to ask about a particularly evil implement -- the dragon tail -- that she was looking for. After she left, Mistress told me that she'd told the other ladies to not hesitate to knock and come in for anything they might need. Anything at all, she chuckled.
Great, I said, laughing. That was very nice of you.
Well, of course, we can't deny them things if they need them for clients.. she playfully replied.
More beating, tickling.. dripping water and champagne on me, then the harsh, extra stinging slaps of an implement against wet skin. Spanking my feet, my pussy, my inner thighs.
Then.. another knock at the door. Mistress' friend entered. They began discussing me and my red ass, Mistress saying that I'd been pretty quiet so far, but that I was warmed up and that I'd scream for her.
What followed was mind-blowingly hot and awesome! The two of them proceeded to torture me in the most delicious ways.. scratching, biting, spanking, hair pulling.. all the while laughing and talking about me almost like I wasn't there. I always imagined that would be super hot, and it was. I gasped to feel lips and teeth on my neck.. a very sharp pinch of a bite which is now raised, bruised, and sore (no complaints here.. I love souvenirs!). I almost died with pleasure when I felt lips wrap around my toes, then the delicious sensation of them being sucked.
The two of them were having a blast torturing me (okay, I was having a blast being tortured, as well!); scratching, poking, tickling. If that weren't enough, there was another knock at the door, mid-torture. Another Mistress came in to join in the fun. I've mentioned how lucky of a girl I am, right?? Holy shit.. the three of them, I lost track of what was going on. Some time during all this, Mistress applied clothespins to my nipples. Pleasure and pain at the same time. Loads of scratching and beating, but wonderful, pleasurable, sensual things at the same time. Stroking, soft female bodies against my bare skin, their laughter and giggles tickling my ears as they teased and tortured me.
They poured champagne over my back and then licked it off, but that was short-lived and I received some sharp bites. Nails raking the skin on my back, my ass, and my thighs. Tickling in earnest to make me struggle and fight my bonds, but pretty much in vain, as I was tied down and unable to escape.
I so didn't want it to end. It was beyond amaaaaaaaazing! The funny thing was that I really didn't feel shy or embarrassed at all. I do have an exhibitionist streak once I get over my shyness and self-consciousness and truthfully, I'd had a fantasy about being dominated and tortured by more than one woman at a time.
When it was all over, my entire back side (back, ass, and legs) was warm and red. I have so many marks all over, which I love! Several really decent bite marks, some serious scratches, and my skin is plenty sensitive all over, even if there are no marks to be seen.
That was so much fun.. so intense, but ridiculously hot and amazing. :)
Well, at least until I land on being beaten. I'm not quite used to that being the answer sometimes and I'm also not sure exactly why it is, but quite honestly, being spanked is exactly what I need sometimes.
I've been having a couple of rough weeks emotionally, due to various things that keep happening one after another.. hormones, my stupid job, trying to wean myself off weed so that I can get a new job (pre-employment drug screen), and subsequently, not enough sleep. I've been very irritable and bitchy and basically not at all myself. Mistress, the wonderful, perceptive woman that she is, recognized that I needed to be beaten and made time to do just that.
I arrived at the Domme house and we hung out and socialized a bit with one of her Domme friends, to whom she extended the invitation to knock on the door if the friend felt like spanking someone. I was amused and, I admit, hoping it would happen. We headed upstairs to the room she'd picked out for the evening. This room consists of a couch and a spanking horse that has been affectionately and humorously dubbed 'the rape rack'. I encourage you to say it out loud, it's pretty fun. Rape rack!
She had me move the spanking horse more into the middle of the room and then laid some towels over it, all the while giving me playful and meaningful looks. I still get shy and blushy, especially at the beginning of our sessions. I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to just strip off so that she doesn't have to ask, but it feels kind of weird and awkward to do that without any sort of instruction, so I like to wait until she tells me to undress.
Get on spanking horse, tied down. Mitten cuff things. Blindfolded. Fingernails scraping my skin, caresses. Starts spanking, easy at first. Whip.. bare hand.. paddle.. spanking my ass, thighs, shoulders, pussy. Warming me up.
Tickling because she likes to see me squirm. Beating me all over with various implements.. paddle, slapper, rubber flogger, leather flogger. She then stopped, walked out of the room, closing the door and leaving me strapped down and blindfolded. She was gone for a while, leaving me wondering what she was doing.
Returns and lights a clove cigarette, brushing the tip over my skin, the warm, reddened skin of my shoulders and ass. I've discovered I love the fear and danger of this. I trust Mistress implicitly and I know that she is expert at what she does, yet there is still an element of fear, which is oddly arousing.
A knock at the door, making me chuckle a little. Another Mistress popped in to ask about a particularly evil implement -- the dragon tail -- that she was looking for. After she left, Mistress told me that she'd told the other ladies to not hesitate to knock and come in for anything they might need. Anything at all, she chuckled.
Great, I said, laughing. That was very nice of you.
Well, of course, we can't deny them things if they need them for clients.. she playfully replied.
More beating, tickling.. dripping water and champagne on me, then the harsh, extra stinging slaps of an implement against wet skin. Spanking my feet, my pussy, my inner thighs.
Then.. another knock at the door. Mistress' friend entered. They began discussing me and my red ass, Mistress saying that I'd been pretty quiet so far, but that I was warmed up and that I'd scream for her.
What followed was mind-blowingly hot and awesome! The two of them proceeded to torture me in the most delicious ways.. scratching, biting, spanking, hair pulling.. all the while laughing and talking about me almost like I wasn't there. I always imagined that would be super hot, and it was. I gasped to feel lips and teeth on my neck.. a very sharp pinch of a bite which is now raised, bruised, and sore (no complaints here.. I love souvenirs!). I almost died with pleasure when I felt lips wrap around my toes, then the delicious sensation of them being sucked.
The two of them were having a blast torturing me (okay, I was having a blast being tortured, as well!); scratching, poking, tickling. If that weren't enough, there was another knock at the door, mid-torture. Another Mistress came in to join in the fun. I've mentioned how lucky of a girl I am, right?? Holy shit.. the three of them, I lost track of what was going on. Some time during all this, Mistress applied clothespins to my nipples. Pleasure and pain at the same time. Loads of scratching and beating, but wonderful, pleasurable, sensual things at the same time. Stroking, soft female bodies against my bare skin, their laughter and giggles tickling my ears as they teased and tortured me.
They poured champagne over my back and then licked it off, but that was short-lived and I received some sharp bites. Nails raking the skin on my back, my ass, and my thighs. Tickling in earnest to make me struggle and fight my bonds, but pretty much in vain, as I was tied down and unable to escape.
I so didn't want it to end. It was beyond amaaaaaaaazing! The funny thing was that I really didn't feel shy or embarrassed at all. I do have an exhibitionist streak once I get over my shyness and self-consciousness and truthfully, I'd had a fantasy about being dominated and tortured by more than one woman at a time.
When it was all over, my entire back side (back, ass, and legs) was warm and red. I have so many marks all over, which I love! Several really decent bite marks, some serious scratches, and my skin is plenty sensitive all over, even if there are no marks to be seen.
That was so much fun.. so intense, but ridiculously hot and amazing. :)
Monday, August 08, 2011
The Arsenal
Here is her personal arsenal. After our last session, I was instructed to take the bag home and to organize it. There wasn't much to do in that regard, so I think this was mainly so that I'd have some private time to check everything out. I took the opportunity to photograph the cornucopia of weaponry...
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Service
My sessions with Mistress... I am a bit overwhelmed with emotion and I really don't have adequate words yet. They are simply amazing... intense, so deliciously sensual, and she gives the best spankings ever. I feel so lucky that our paths crossed, both in terms of the kink and also because in our developing a more personal relationship, I've come to discover that she is super sweet, kind, intelligent, and all-around very wonderful.
After my first session with her, it was all I could think about for weeks -- I have a kind of highlight reel of my favorite moments that I like to replay to amuse myself. I couldn't believe how good it had felt, how tender and kind and sensual she was; it completely exceeded my expectations and I knew that I would have to go again!
The second session was amazing, too.... she is masterful and superb at what she does. I'm sure I'll eventually write more on the in between, but for now, I need to carry on so I can start talking about the present. After our second session, we chatted a little bit and I asked if she might be willing to trade spankings for service. Super, super lucky me, she agreed. :)
I guess I've been in her service for a month or so now. This situation is new to both of us in different ways (obviously, less new to her) and we've been just kind of playing it by ear. I started off working in the garden and am gradually taking on more and more tasks as time goes on.
I'm finding a tremendous amount of joy in all of this, much to my surprise. While I was very drawn to it and while a part of myself was filled with a deep yearning for this sort of thing... as much as I've thought about it, I didn't have enough experience to be certain that serving a Mistress was something I really wanted. In hindsight, I see that this was unfounded: I worry a lot unnecessarily. I guess I was most afraid of disappointing her by getting involved in this and finding out it wasn't a good fit. I mean, I thought that I would enjoy it, but until you experience something, how do you know if you'll like it?
Sure, I experimented and played at D/s, but never seriously and only once before with someone who had previous experience. For a long time, it was a fantasy, something my girlfriends and lovers would do to turn me on, but never its own thing. I spent many years thinking about BDSM, fascinated by the width and breadth of people's interests, pondering my own, dreaming, fantasizing... wishing I could meet someone with a natural dominant streak that would see and appreciate my submissive side. Not only that, really, but who would know what to do with it.
As much as I was drawn to it and felt that I wanted it, I had very little luck coming even close to what I was looking for. Honestly, I wasn't even sure what that was or how to articulate it. I started to think that I was chasing a pipe dream, that what I desired didn't exist and/or that it was one of those things that are simply much better residing in one's head as a fantasy.
I have a confession, which I hope you find as ironic and amusing as I do: I usually hate to be told what to do. I'm incredibly independent, dislike being ordered around, am not a fan of most menial tasks, and I generally am most happy doing things when they are my idea. I also generally can't stand being micromanaged and corrected.
So, obviously, knowing this about myself, I had some concerns about whether this was a good fit, whether it was what I really wanted, whether putting myself directly into this kind of situation would tweak my rebellious, sassy streak. I didn't really have much experience to draw from, so I wasn't sure what it would be like or how it would feel.
The truth is, none of these worries were very huge, just little niggling doubts. When I stopped and listened to my heart, this was what it wanted and so I was driven in this direction. Plus, I also just had this feeling that Mistress was extraordinary and I was very interested in getting to know her better. I am so grateful that she was open to giving me a chance because this has turned into one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
What's surprising to me is not that I'm enjoying every minute of my service, but that I find myself thriving in the biggest way! I'm really, really happy and I find it extremely enjoyable and fulfilling.
I love being asked to do things and I love being put to use! I don't mind the menial tasks, really, because it's for a very pleasant purpose -- making her life easier, maybe making her smile. I live for that smile.. it's just about the best thing ever.
Often, in other situations, I'll see something that needs to be done (say, the dishes), not want to do it, and then avoid the task (at least for a while). With Mistress, I'm eager and sincerely happy to do it. I feel a real sense of responsibility and duty, and I am always aware of my place, which is also satisfying in a way I didn't anticipate.
Weirdly (for me), I really enjoy when she asks me to do things. I feel a deep sense of happiness and satisfaction, that I'm being useful, and it's also a nice reminder of my place in all of this.
After my first session with her, it was all I could think about for weeks -- I have a kind of highlight reel of my favorite moments that I like to replay to amuse myself. I couldn't believe how good it had felt, how tender and kind and sensual she was; it completely exceeded my expectations and I knew that I would have to go again!
The second session was amazing, too.... she is masterful and superb at what she does. I'm sure I'll eventually write more on the in between, but for now, I need to carry on so I can start talking about the present. After our second session, we chatted a little bit and I asked if she might be willing to trade spankings for service. Super, super lucky me, she agreed. :)
I guess I've been in her service for a month or so now. This situation is new to both of us in different ways (obviously, less new to her) and we've been just kind of playing it by ear. I started off working in the garden and am gradually taking on more and more tasks as time goes on.
I'm finding a tremendous amount of joy in all of this, much to my surprise. While I was very drawn to it and while a part of myself was filled with a deep yearning for this sort of thing... as much as I've thought about it, I didn't have enough experience to be certain that serving a Mistress was something I really wanted. In hindsight, I see that this was unfounded: I worry a lot unnecessarily. I guess I was most afraid of disappointing her by getting involved in this and finding out it wasn't a good fit. I mean, I thought that I would enjoy it, but until you experience something, how do you know if you'll like it?
Sure, I experimented and played at D/s, but never seriously and only once before with someone who had previous experience. For a long time, it was a fantasy, something my girlfriends and lovers would do to turn me on, but never its own thing. I spent many years thinking about BDSM, fascinated by the width and breadth of people's interests, pondering my own, dreaming, fantasizing... wishing I could meet someone with a natural dominant streak that would see and appreciate my submissive side. Not only that, really, but who would know what to do with it.
As much as I was drawn to it and felt that I wanted it, I had very little luck coming even close to what I was looking for. Honestly, I wasn't even sure what that was or how to articulate it. I started to think that I was chasing a pipe dream, that what I desired didn't exist and/or that it was one of those things that are simply much better residing in one's head as a fantasy.
I have a confession, which I hope you find as ironic and amusing as I do: I usually hate to be told what to do. I'm incredibly independent, dislike being ordered around, am not a fan of most menial tasks, and I generally am most happy doing things when they are my idea. I also generally can't stand being micromanaged and corrected.
So, obviously, knowing this about myself, I had some concerns about whether this was a good fit, whether it was what I really wanted, whether putting myself directly into this kind of situation would tweak my rebellious, sassy streak. I didn't really have much experience to draw from, so I wasn't sure what it would be like or how it would feel.
The truth is, none of these worries were very huge, just little niggling doubts. When I stopped and listened to my heart, this was what it wanted and so I was driven in this direction. Plus, I also just had this feeling that Mistress was extraordinary and I was very interested in getting to know her better. I am so grateful that she was open to giving me a chance because this has turned into one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
What's surprising to me is not that I'm enjoying every minute of my service, but that I find myself thriving in the biggest way! I'm really, really happy and I find it extremely enjoyable and fulfilling.
I love being asked to do things and I love being put to use! I don't mind the menial tasks, really, because it's for a very pleasant purpose -- making her life easier, maybe making her smile. I live for that smile.. it's just about the best thing ever.
Often, in other situations, I'll see something that needs to be done (say, the dishes), not want to do it, and then avoid the task (at least for a while). With Mistress, I'm eager and sincerely happy to do it. I feel a real sense of responsibility and duty, and I am always aware of my place, which is also satisfying in a way I didn't anticipate.
Weirdly (for me), I really enjoy when she asks me to do things. I feel a deep sense of happiness and satisfaction, that I'm being useful, and it's also a nice reminder of my place in all of this.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
New Chapter
A lot has happened in the past few months and suddenly, my life has taken a most wonderful and magical turn. It all started with finally finding a job after several desperate months of job searching. At my new job, I met a really cool girl -- who for this blog's purposes, we will call "Ollie" -- who very quickly became my best friend. She and I are so alike, it's both scary and ridiculously awesome.
Right around the time Ollie and I met and were starting to get to know one another, her girlfriend answered a Craigslist ad and was interviewing to become a mistress at a local house of BDSM. I was immediately intrigued, of course! Visiting a professional Domme was on my bucket list and something I had thought a lot about, but I never expected to be able to overcome the intimidation and anxiety regarding the process, particularly the simple act of picking one place or one person. I wasn't even entirely sure how to articulate what I wanted, so how could I be certain that I'd be able to find it?
Over the next couple of months, I was in rapt attention any time Ollie offered bits and pieces of information regarding The House where her girlfriend was being trained to be a professional Domme; eventually, my curiosity got the best of me and I started to pepper her with questions. The knowledge made it a bit less scary and I grew closer and closer to the idea that I might be able to actually DO this. I justified the cost to myself by allowing myself an indulgence for hitting the 6-month mark of quitting smoking.
I often get overwhelmed to the point of paralyzation when faced with too many choices. It's like, how in the world do you choose? All of the women are gorgeous and powerful and intelligent... without some sort of guidance, it's practically impossible to pick one over the other. Seeing that I was lost in indecisiveness, Ollie's girlfriend recommended someone, who I then took a closer look at. Immediately, I was rather intrigued. I mean, she hit a bunch of my big turn-ons: beautiful, fair skinned, tall, curly red hair, obviously intelligent and well-spoken, physically powerful... there was also an allusion to sensuality, or at least so I hoped.
It took me two or three weeks to wrap my mind around the whole thing and to get comfortable enough to where I was able to call to make an appointment. By that time, I kind of knew the low-down, but I was extremely nervous and intimidated by the whole process. I knew from reading the website that, as a new client, I'd have to call on the day on which I wanted to book an appointment. This was a bit difficult for me because, ordinarily, I'd call ahead, make an appointment, and then spend the rest of the time mentally preparing for it. This time, I had to wonder what was going to happen all the way up until I worked up the balls to call. Ha.
Honestly, the process was not that difficult and the ladies I spoke with were very nice. I just am such a huge dork that I only make things worse for myself through my shyness, anxiety, and awkwardness. I'm grateful that a lot of people see it for what it is and are amused by it and that some of them even find it endearing. Anyway, after about a month of consideration and discussion, I managed to work up enough courage to book an appointment.
Right around the time Ollie and I met and were starting to get to know one another, her girlfriend answered a Craigslist ad and was interviewing to become a mistress at a local house of BDSM. I was immediately intrigued, of course! Visiting a professional Domme was on my bucket list and something I had thought a lot about, but I never expected to be able to overcome the intimidation and anxiety regarding the process, particularly the simple act of picking one place or one person. I wasn't even entirely sure how to articulate what I wanted, so how could I be certain that I'd be able to find it?
Over the next couple of months, I was in rapt attention any time Ollie offered bits and pieces of information regarding The House where her girlfriend was being trained to be a professional Domme; eventually, my curiosity got the best of me and I started to pepper her with questions. The knowledge made it a bit less scary and I grew closer and closer to the idea that I might be able to actually DO this. I justified the cost to myself by allowing myself an indulgence for hitting the 6-month mark of quitting smoking.
I often get overwhelmed to the point of paralyzation when faced with too many choices. It's like, how in the world do you choose? All of the women are gorgeous and powerful and intelligent... without some sort of guidance, it's practically impossible to pick one over the other. Seeing that I was lost in indecisiveness, Ollie's girlfriend recommended someone, who I then took a closer look at. Immediately, I was rather intrigued. I mean, she hit a bunch of my big turn-ons: beautiful, fair skinned, tall, curly red hair, obviously intelligent and well-spoken, physically powerful... there was also an allusion to sensuality, or at least so I hoped.
It took me two or three weeks to wrap my mind around the whole thing and to get comfortable enough to where I was able to call to make an appointment. By that time, I kind of knew the low-down, but I was extremely nervous and intimidated by the whole process. I knew from reading the website that, as a new client, I'd have to call on the day on which I wanted to book an appointment. This was a bit difficult for me because, ordinarily, I'd call ahead, make an appointment, and then spend the rest of the time mentally preparing for it. This time, I had to wonder what was going to happen all the way up until I worked up the balls to call. Ha.
Honestly, the process was not that difficult and the ladies I spoke with were very nice. I just am such a huge dork that I only make things worse for myself through my shyness, anxiety, and awkwardness. I'm grateful that a lot of people see it for what it is and are amused by it and that some of them even find it endearing. Anyway, after about a month of consideration and discussion, I managed to work up enough courage to book an appointment.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
New Chapter: Session 2
Circling, slapping, touching, applying the cane..
Me panting, out of breath, assimilating the pain.
She circled in front of me again. "Do we remember our safeword?" she asked with a sly smirk.
"Yes," I replied quietly, heat rising to my cheeks.
"Well, let's hear it."
My voice was thick in my throat and my reply came out almost inaudibly. "Louder, so I can actually hear it, " she tsked.
I cleared my throat and tried again, louder this time. "Yellow."
"Excellent, " she said, then began to spank my breasts forcefully. I tried to be stoic, but it wasn't very long before I said my safeword in earnest.
Me panting, out of breath, assimilating the pain.
She circled in front of me again. "Do we remember our safeword?" she asked with a sly smirk.
"Yes," I replied quietly, heat rising to my cheeks.
"Well, let's hear it."
My voice was thick in my throat and my reply came out almost inaudibly. "Louder, so I can actually hear it, " she tsked.
I cleared my throat and tried again, louder this time. "Yellow."
"Excellent, " she said, then began to spank my breasts forcefully. I tried to be stoic, but it wasn't very long before I said my safeword in earnest.
Thursday, January 06, 2011
The lengths to which we go...
My life would make an excellent black comedy. I can only laugh at all the stupid things that I've done in the name of love or lust.
The most memorable (and expensive) mistake I made was getting involved with this crazy girl, JS, who was in love with my ex. I knew she was crazy and I knew she was just using me to make my ex jealous, but because I knew this, I thought I was one up on her and that I had the situation locked down.
It started out with a completely random phone call, where she wanted to know my ex's favorite flower. I was at first confused and surprised that JS was even calling me, considering I had never given her my number, but apparently my ex had. Once I gathered my thoughts, I had to tell her that I hadn't dated my ex that long and I honestly had no idea.
After that, she stepped up her game and started flirting with me hard at the bar. This game was completely transparent and I knew exactly what was going on. However, I was really bored in my life and in need of some distraction, so I decided to play with fire, especially since crazy girls seem to be wicked good in bed. I totally thought that, being fully apprised of the situation, I had a handle on things and that I had JS's number.
Well, tragically, she was horrible in bed, like... in my bottom two experiences ever... so it wasn’t even worth it. She had what my ex and I would later commiserate and call "sexual ADD". She'd start out doing one thing, and just as you were starting to get into it, she'd switch and start doing something else. Rinse, repeat, over and over.. very unsatisfying and strange!
She was wonderful sober, but was also totally an alcoholic who turned into Mr. Hyde when she got drunk. I was out at the bar with my best friend and she was there, wasted, celebrating her cousin’s birthday. I barely remember the details, but I think she got snarky with me and my best friend stood up for me, and then they totally got into it. JS left the bar perhaps 10 minutes later. My friend and I left a couple of hours later and when I got in my car, I discovered JS had stolen my ignition. Yeah, you heard me right.
HUGE F-ING, EXPENSIVE HASSLE, let me tell you. I got dicked around by the mechanic, too, for a couple of weeks, until my friend’s husband called pretending to be my husband, then they straightened up.
Anyway… yeah.
I would like to say that I've learned to not play with fire, but knowing myself....
The most memorable (and expensive) mistake I made was getting involved with this crazy girl, JS, who was in love with my ex. I knew she was crazy and I knew she was just using me to make my ex jealous, but because I knew this, I thought I was one up on her and that I had the situation locked down.
It started out with a completely random phone call, where she wanted to know my ex's favorite flower. I was at first confused and surprised that JS was even calling me, considering I had never given her my number, but apparently my ex had. Once I gathered my thoughts, I had to tell her that I hadn't dated my ex that long and I honestly had no idea.
After that, she stepped up her game and started flirting with me hard at the bar. This game was completely transparent and I knew exactly what was going on. However, I was really bored in my life and in need of some distraction, so I decided to play with fire, especially since crazy girls seem to be wicked good in bed. I totally thought that, being fully apprised of the situation, I had a handle on things and that I had JS's number.
Well, tragically, she was horrible in bed, like... in my bottom two experiences ever... so it wasn’t even worth it. She had what my ex and I would later commiserate and call "sexual ADD". She'd start out doing one thing, and just as you were starting to get into it, she'd switch and start doing something else. Rinse, repeat, over and over.. very unsatisfying and strange!
She was wonderful sober, but was also totally an alcoholic who turned into Mr. Hyde when she got drunk. I was out at the bar with my best friend and she was there, wasted, celebrating her cousin’s birthday. I barely remember the details, but I think she got snarky with me and my best friend stood up for me, and then they totally got into it. JS left the bar perhaps 10 minutes later. My friend and I left a couple of hours later and when I got in my car, I discovered JS had stolen my ignition. Yeah, you heard me right.
HUGE F-ING, EXPENSIVE HASSLE, let me tell you. I got dicked around by the mechanic, too, for a couple of weeks, until my friend’s husband called pretending to be my husband, then they straightened up.
Anyway… yeah.
I would like to say that I've learned to not play with fire, but knowing myself....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)