This past week has been beautifully documented by Jenn. My twin and I have both been very proud of her for sharing her torment with you on the blog ,at times as it occurred, and always when told. She suffered her many surprising indignities and humiliations of the weekend with great grace and many orgasms.
Now what? I don’t know. We fly by raw emotion only. I don’t know word one about bdsm so scene politics mean shit to me. Find the tender points and thread the hooks. The blood in the water is so pretty this morning. Thank you, Mine.
I haven’t decided yet how I feel about Lick My Legs. They sell a variety of print t-shirts and dresses, all in vanilla cuts and styles, that have kinky prints on them, a nod to kinky couture.
With T-shirts featuring nipple clamps (right) and dresses and shirts featuring girls in ball gags (bottom) the vanilla clothing style is undercut by the graphic fetishistic images on the clothes themselves.
I do like the juxtaposition of fetishism with the kind of clothes I’d wear with jeans, but I also feel like there’s more than a little bit of cheating going on here. The risqué images are an homage to the kink world, without being a part of it.
Prompt: I want you to write a post listing the things you are actively doing to try and make the best of your time in TX.
This is my first writing assignment in months. While I cannot stand the writing prompt, I will make a sincere attempt to have this be as honest and introspective as I possibly can.
For the last two months, I have experienced a heightened level of depression and anxiety that didn’t start until we moved to Texas.
The depression has been the worse it has been since high school. I’ve been frightened and worried about my mental health for weeks.
Now that Master & I are settled into O/our apartment, the depression is slowly ebbing away, with the anxiety reluctantly following.
The main issue I have with this prompt is not the fact that these types of writing prompts, but the fact that due to the shift I must work, it makes it extremely difficult for me to do anything I want to do.
So, I will make my list. But unless my schedule changes to something that would benefit my life better (like Monday-Friday 2am-11am for example), I’m stuck.
I’ve looked for concerts that would interest me. As my primary nonhuman love is music, and I love going to concerts, this one is a no brainer. Knowing I will have to work tomorrow night while Muse, one of my favorite bands of all time performs in Houston, just kills me. I guess I’ll just have to wait until Warped Tour at this point. =[
I’ve found 2 wonderful dance studios with talented instructors. I have found prices and schedules for classes. My schedule clashes with the majority of classes that would help me grow as a dancer. Go figure.
I have researched the local BDSM scene in hopes that Master & I could attend a munch. As most munches are on the weekend, and we work on the weekends, it’s damn near impossible to dredge up the energy to meet new people.
Due to feeling discouraged by the above, I have also been discouraged from finding bars similar to the ones I danced at in West Palm. Dive bars with indie/electro nights.
What’s the point when W/we are budgeting O/our money tightly to afford more furniture, as well as move O/our belongings? Can’t very well go out and drink all of O/our money at a bar. That wouldn’t really be responsible, now would it?
*sighs* If I wasn’t so exhausted already, I’d consider obtaining a second job. But that’s another story altogether.
This weekend was a whirlwind of activity. Friday night Alderon and i just kind of (as my niece would say) chilled. My daughter went to her father’s until Sunday. We watched TV. We took a late nap. We stayed up way too late watching more tv. i cleaned the place up for the visitors we were having over Saturday.
Saturday came and i woke up in slave mode. i knew that was coming though – probably why Friday was so quiet. i got up, showered, shaved, lotioned, and got myself just the way that He likes me. He put the wrist and ankle restraints on me. He removed my daily collar and put on the play collar. Our visitors came over, and they were greeted by a slave that was completely naked except for the restraints and collar. Later, i was prepared for the munch by having rope bondage tied onto me before getting dressed in an outfit picked out by Alderon.
The munch itself was so much fun! i did get to wear clothes, since it is kind of a vanilla affair. However, He had me keep on the play collar and restraints. So, here i am, in a regular restaurant with a large group of fellow kinksters worrying about the fact that i was wearing rope that was visible on me because of my v-neck shirt, wrist and ankle restraints, and a play collar that has a very large O-ring on it and several chains. The waitress, who is also the manager, didn’t look twice. Thank the Gods that she is used to us. Plus, i think that we all tip well – i’m sure that helps a lot *smiles*.
After the munch, a few of us got together for a play party. i love play parties. i was really excited for Miss Donna to play with me again. i had so much fun the last time that she did. First, i got to watch Her play with Her boy (for those who don’t know – i don’t mean boy as in child – the guy is over 50 – i mean boy as in Hers) for the weekend. That was fun. Another sub and i sat on the floor, watching Her fire flog this charming male and we were drooling over his penis. The other sub and i both have oral fixation issues – but that’s a whole other blog post. When She finished with him, She moved on to one other woman, and then i was next.
By this time, the group of spectators had moved upstairs, where there was another scene or three happening. i was put on a horse (not tied down for a change), and had a fire glove used on me. It was nice. You know how when your butt is cold, a crop, cane, flogger,or what-have-you stings the wrong way sometimes at first? That glove warmed me right the hell up. There was no issue with cold butt. It was nice.
Fire Play by Miss Donna
So was what came next. Don’t ask me to remember it all – i was giggling.
Yes…giggling. Remember that? i said i was a giggler during a play session. i do and i did. i giggling so hard i had tears in my eyes, a runny nose, and so did everyone else! By now, of course, there were other people down there. i didn’t care – i kept watching feet walk by the horse. i’m not sure who exactly or how many…but there were many voices of laughter joining mine.
It was an absolute blast!
Miss Donna used a single tail on me. A lot. i still have quite a few welts that are striping my backside and lower back. Mostly my backside. It was nice. It was stingy. It was like having quiet streaks of stingy pain that lashed my ass, and i loved every one of them. There was an attempt to take an after picture, but it didn’t happen.
i don’t remember much of the ride home. i nodded off a lot. i got home, found some blankets and pillows for our guests, and then fell exhausted into bed. It was 5 am. Up at noon to make coffee and brunch for our guests (Alderon went out and bought some eggs and hashbrowns for me – i somehow got out of a trip to the grocery store AND peeling and shredding potatoes!!!). My daughter came home in time to eat with us and visit (she loves You guys…she really does). Off they went on their way and my daughter and i took our afternoon nap. Sandwiches for dinner (i even got out of making dinner!!!!), did our pre-bed reading, and tucked my daughter into bed.
Then i had more fun!!
Since i was having an oral fixation issue for most of the weekend (and there was a fleeting promise from one of our house guests to perhaps help remedy that situation when it happens in the future – and don’t You think i’ll forget it *grins*), Alderon was feeling well enough to help me out with that problem – for about an hour. Very nice. It was the first time that i used ice while i sucked on Him. He didn’t seem to mind too much.
Then, He tortured me. The energy was intense. Imagine Him kissing, stroking, scratching, pinching, biting, suckling, and every other way of awakening every inch of my skin without the use of toys for more than an hour before any kind of sex actually happened. The energy was intense. He growled His testament of ownership of me. i completely whole-heartedly agreed. It was wonderful. Did i mention the energy was intense?
If you haven’t seen it already, Lady Gaga and B’s new vid Telephone is TOO many things. Chock full of lesbian/gender-bending images, the whole women’s prison context, Goth/BDSM hints, freaky fierce fashion, the femme-fatale enigma, gang signs, some MJ moves, product placement, autotune, some Thelma & Louise energy, a pussy wagon – it goes on. In fact, it is SO many things – a lot of it I can’t figure out. But honestly, if Gaga has a jones for HONEY B, she doesn’t hide it. Shoot….what red blooded female wouldn’t look at Beyonce with the sexy side-eye? Even the straightest straight girl. Love her or hate her, Beyonce is definitely girl crush material and Lady Gaga makes her point here. Beyonce looks positively edible as always (when she rocks that black lipstick, yo.). At least i think she does. And if this is all for show to boost their relevance – I vote YES, it’s working!
It’s been a few weeks since I’ve posted, and I’m gearing up for a few more demonstrations and performances coming up in the next few months! Stay tuned for more details!
In other news, I’ll be celebrating my birthday this year at Torture Garden Toronto – at Toronto’s Fetish Weekend as it falls on the May long weekend! So this is an informal invite to come out and party all weekend with me!
I finally had a chance to shoot with my good friends at Kink Engineering – makers of custom fetish latex gear! I even took home a little gift with plans to make some of my own fetish latex wear! I’ll definitely update my adventures with playing with latex! Adventureseeker2 graciously hosted us at his downtown studio while we messed around with latex, rope, suspension, and some hot shoe bondage! Keep an eye out for photos!
The blog is going to be going under construction in the next few days, please bear with us as we evolve and make this kink-friendly space more fun!
Last night I played with the guy I met last week. It was incredibly anti-climactic. He is 20 years older than me, and is not in the same mindframe. I wanted to just go there, play, and leave. He wanted to wine and dine me, and have intimate conversation. When we were done he asked me what my tattoos meant. I told him that it was personal. And he was just like, well we just fucked, that’s personal. But it’s personal in a different way. You know?
Anyways, so I got to his house, which was in a brand new apartment building, which was kind of weird. It made me think of those people who have like one play apartment and one normal one. Although I knew this was not his play apartment since he had a bed for his 5 year old daughter there in the same room as his bed.
After I got there, he gave me some wine, and we had some awkward and forced conversation. He wanted to order some food but I wasn’t hungry. Then we went into the bedroom. He had asked me to not wear a bra, so I wasn’t. He just took off my shirt and started caressing my torso and breasts and kissing my neck. Here is the thing. Especially in VERY casual situations like these, I’m not into kissing, or intimacy such as snuggles, hair rubbing etc. I just want to play, get tied up, tossed around, teased, a little beat up, fucked and be on my merry way. So immediately when he started intimately kissing me I was weirded out.
Not to mention that, in the tiny bedroom, near his bed, separated by a sheer curtain, he has a bed for his 5 year old daughter complete with pink flowery bed clothes and flower decorations on the wall. FUCKING Weird.
Anyways, so he starts by caressing my breasts, I wanted him to pinch my nipples hard, but he was too gentle. Then he told me to lie on the bed. He held me down and started making out with me. As long as I closed my eyes the making out wasn’t too bad. (terrible I know) Then he tells me to get up and undress. He puts these cheesy wrist cuffs on. They were leather and stuff, but kind of bulky. He attached them by a clip. It was annoying though because I could still do anything with my hands. Anyways, then he put a blindfold on me and started teasing me. He would tickle my clit, rub my vaginal area, and tease my actual vaginal opening. He slapped my thighs a little, and my clit, and my tits a few times. I was a good little girl and kept my legs spread and my hands above my head, even though I could have done anything I wanted really. I was turned on, but it wasn’t like awesome or anything.
Then he shaved me. Which was annoying. He obviously didn’t really know what he was doing. It took a really long time. I mean it felt alright, but when I saw it after I was pissed off. It was uneven and terrible looking. Also when he finished up and wiped me off, he lifted up my legs like he was wiping a baby’s bottom. Then he went back to teasing me a bit. He flipped me over and clipped my hands behind my back. This was more like it! I felt a little better being more helpless. But after just a few minutes, he removed the blindfold and unclipped my hands and pulled me up next to him. He wanted to snuggle. UGH. He wanted me to rub his chest. He wanted me to suck on his nipples. blah blah blah. I obliged. He kept teasing me being like “oh will you get to come or not?” I know guys like this. They always let me come. I tell them I want to be teased. What I really want is to be told NO, you can’t come. But they always let me/tell me to. They are pushovers.
Finally, he removed his pants and had me suck his dick. It was kind of small and circumcised, although his balls were unusually large. I like a nice big cock though, and this was not really satisfactory. I sucked him, then he fucked me. It was kind of interesting when he fucked me, he was doing it from behind. I was on my stomach. He clipped my hands together behind HIS back. I thought that was kind of hot.
Then afterwards, he got me off. I knew it. He was weak.
We awkwardly ate Thai, and he tried to ask me all these personal questions. Just because you fucked me does not mean we are like BFF now! I didn’t have a personal connection, or even a good sexual connection with this guy. Being with him just made me miss G, who has like fallen off the face of the planet or something.
To make matters worse, afterwards he sent me a message that just said: good job tonight. Like wtf! What does that even mean?
This guy may have been a “dom” but he didn’t do it for me. I like to be tightly and intricately restrained, I like to be completely helpless, I don’t like it when I feel like I still have SO much power over the guy. I mean obviously any guy should respect your limits, but within that, I would like to be without choice.
This is a film directed by Stuart Gordon based on a short story by H.P. Lovecraft and starring Jeffrey Combs. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? This certainly isn’t the first collaboration between Gordon and Combs, and it certainly won’t be the last. I believe this is actually one of five movies Gordon has made based on short stories written by Lovecraft, which makes reviewing any of them tricky. If the movie is bad, who do we blame? And if it’s good, who do we commend? As much as I would like to blame H.P. Lovecraft for writing awful stories and being a racist, it’s hard to be mad at a dead guy who wrote The Call of Cthulhu. Sorry, Stuart, but I am going to blame you for the this one.
She chose THIS over Ken Foree in his underwear?! Ugh, WOMEN
I think to simply call this movie “bad” would be unfair to all parties involved. Rather, I think this film suffers from a case of split personalities. One thing I noticed about Gordon, which I actually think is pretty effective, is using the opening scene to set the tone of his films. True, most of his films have the same tone, so maybe it’s easy for him to recreate scenes that get the desired effect, but I suppose that’s debatable. The film opens with Combs, playing Crawford Tillinghast, and Ted Sorel, playing Dr. Edward Pretorius, using some sort of device that is glowing and doing wacky stuff. The device causes Dr. Pretorius’ head to explode, but then a dog comes in a licks it. Gordon uses special effects to gross you out, but then brings in comedic relief to avoid frightening you completely. That’s hod most Gordon films are; rather than terrify you, he tends to juxtapose the grotesque with the light-hearted, leaving you unsettled. Turns out this machine was used to manipulate an unused part of your brain that is essentially your sixth sense, seeing more than is actually there. Another doctor finds out about this, and wants to attempt using the device with Crawford there to help, and then the hilarity ensues. There are weird leaches coming from the machine, Dr. Pretorius keeps showing up in stranger and stranger disfigurements, Ken Foree is running around in his underwear, ladies are wearing BDSM outfits, and Crawford is running around with an antenna popping out of his head. The insanity that is the plot can probably be blamed on Lovecraft, but since he was a weirdo freak anyway, I’m sure it made sense in his head.
To be fair, this eyeball sucking scene was pretty touching
The reason I feel this movie suffers from multiple personalities is based on the special effects. I mentioned that Dr. Pretorius keeps showing up and is becoming more and more disfigured, which is where most of the special effects come into play. The effects look like Stuart Gordon had just watched both The Thing (Kurt Russel version, duh) and Videodrome the day before filming this movie and demanded those props be used again. I mean, I don’t blame him, the special effects in both of those movies were awesome, but seeing them used in a different context just a few years later was just a little underwhelming. I mean, there were definitely moments where the effects were cool, which is why I am rating this movie a little higher than I wanted to, I can admit that. But even then, it still appeared as though the effects didn’t work as well, as it seemed there was less movement with the effects than what was achieved in the aforementioned film. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the Gordon/Lovecraft/Combs project that was released a year earlier, Re-Animator. From Beyond, however, just really didn’t do it for me. If you are going to take a short story as bizarre as this one, I would really have liked to seen it go even more bizarre than using recycled effects, sex appeal, and the familiar faces of Ken Foree and Jefferey Combs to try to gain cult credibility.
I generally think that coming out is a bad idea. Anytime you have to articulate your identity you are giving credence to the ideology of heteronormative behavior. When was the last time someone came out to you as straight?
Coming out presupposes a world of coerced conformity. A world where nuclear, heterosexual, two person, monogamous relationships are the prescribed norm. Coming out states that you acknowledge this and are stating your identity as something other than this. Making an apology. Telling people that you understand that everyone is presumed straight, until they say otherwise. This fosters an ideology of reinforced heteronormative behavior patterns. Expecting that people will love you, even though your queer, puts the burden of tolerance, and the power to represent the default identity, on straight people.
I never really thought much about coming out. I grew up in San Francisco. Everyone was queer, queer friendly, out and proud. There were more gay flags flying in my childhood than bigots screaming slurs, a lot more. I’m thinking about this a lot this week as last week I was chased out of a party being called gay. How is it possible that “gay” is an insult? I’m living in a very scary world where heterosexuality is presupposed, expected, and thought to be desirable. I’m living in a world where people use heterosexism as a weapon.
I have issues with coming out, with having to come out and with the problems that you cannot undo once you come out. I’m all about being yourself and not having to explain it to anyone. I’m gonna come out though. Not that you don’t know I’m queer. I’m sure I have said it before. I talk about my girlfriend and about how I prefer to be in non-traditional relationships with people of non-conforming gender identities.
I’m gonna come out as a parent. I have offspring. I almost never mention it to people who don’t need to know. I want to protect my children from the bizarre world of professional perversion I live in and love. I want to keep my worlds separate. I want to have a modicum of privacy. I want to have my cake and eat it too. If I never told you I have children don’t take it personally, you have to be very close to me to have been brought into my world. I don’t trust most people with this part of my life.
I’m in a position where I feel I must come out though. Being silent about my children on my blog and in my art is no longer advantageous. The man who knocked me up when I was a teenager is not giving me any choice. I must come out if I am going to write about the full spectrum of a major problem I am dealing with. If I am going to not censor my writing, I have to come out.
Alright, so now you know I’m a mother. You might be asking how this is relevant. I’m getting to it.
The father of my children, after our brief high school fling, became an evangelical Christian. Once he was into kinky sex and drugs. Now he is married in the suburbs slandering my queer intellectual identity. His wife is a stay at home bleached blond who has nothing but time on her hands. She is reading this blog.
The two of them have a real problem with the way I live my life. They want to throw stones and suggest that I’m not allowed to have more fun than they are. It has been a long time since I have been able to deal with the father of my children in a way that is indicative of adult communication. I’m tired of being called the antichrist. I’m tired of the threats and the hostility. I’m tired of them trying to keep my children from me because I’m a queer, kinky, sex working academic.
The shit has to stop now. I can’t really process things without writing about them. When the wife started posting hate mail to this blog I realized that I could not tell you what I was doing without these crazy Christians knowing too.
I sat stewing for a while. I was going to post my upcoming travel but I didn’t want to tell them what I was up to. I thought I would be covert about it, telling you that I’m having problems with the right wing and that I can only tell you vague details of my trip. I’m sick of trying to dance around their bullshit so I figured it might be easier to out myself as a mother than it would be to deal with them holding this over me, trying to harm my family, playing games. I’m sick of it.
I’m coming to New England to attend a conference, visit some family, and play. I’m bringing my teenage son who wants to look at colleges in the area. I’ll have a little bit of free time to play. Hopefully you want to play. I’m really in the mood to have some fun, get off this crazy coast, away from the Christians, out of the vapid self-loathing monotony of southern California.
I’ll have time to play March 13th – 16th in Western Mass. I might be heading to Cape Cod on the 13th and I will be in NYC for a day but I’m not sure which day. I’ll be in Cambridge with very limited availability March 19th – 21st.
I hope I get to beat you, piss on you, and write a dirty story to anger the crazy Christians. Help me have some fun, pay my increased tuition, and get out of the funk that is becoming the essence of my life. Come on, let’s live a little!
In the midst of a particularly hectic time for me and Sir alike, it is always so comforting for me to come home at the end of the day and find Sir sitting at his desk. I walk up to him, kneel beside his chair and put my head in his lap while he strokes my hair. It isn’t long until I’m the one doing the stroking, unzipping his pants and taking his cock in my mouth.
There hasn’t been much heavy impact play, which I both miss and am grateful for, as I’m incredibly busy and more often than not just want some intimacy and some satisfaction from pleasing my lover, my master, my best friend.
I also love the quick jaunts home for lunch, when we meet, shovel food into our mouths and have a hard, rough, sweaty quickie before running back out the door, all smiles from the nasty secrets dampening our pants.
After two years, I think I’m even more passionate and even deeper in my submissive mindset than I was early in the lust stage of our relationship. And that makes me smile. I’m sitting here naked, in my collar, just finished fucking myself and…happy. I hope everyone feels that ray of sunshine-y goodness today. At least for a moment.
It’s been a hard week filled with good and bad. I am a lucky woman. I have some amazing people in my life and the fact that I am so blessed sometimes scares me. I am scared of it all being taken away. I feel silly talking about it now because the zen thing to do would be to enjoy, be happy and just bask.
My grandma tells this story… she was out in a friend’s orchard with the family, picnicking. As they sat there eating, a dog comes by. In that area, the dogs are semi-stray. The farmers feed them but they are not pets. They fend for themselves as well and when they aren’t out on their own they stick around and guard the area. So my grandma, seeing the dog, throws him some food at which point the dog grabs it and promptly runs in a corner and buries it. Then he trots back and stares expectantly. My grandma throws him more food and he performs the same routine. This gets repeated quite a few times and the dog never takes a bite of anything, opting to save it all for later.
I feel like that dog. Like sometimes, I get so scared of future I completely forget to enjoy today. I’d like it to be otherwise and I am slowly teaching myself to live life with more tranquility.
That aside, did you all see canucks kick American butt in Olympic hockey? Our girls and our boys did us proud! The men’s game was really a good match to watch too. We were on the edge of our seats the last half an hour. Now you think having an American around the house to tease and taunt would be fun but Luke wouldn’t play. He thinks Olympics are frivolous and over rated and he simply met my taunting with, “I am glad Canada won.” The man can be so aggravating!
Otherwise, I am so bogged down with work that I can hardly look up. I’ve been dreaming of sucking Luke’s cock and we just don’t have enough time. When I have a moment he is busy. When he finishes up, I am sleepy. It’s just ridiculous. I have been so focused on my desire to suck his cock that today I was in passing telling him I liked his cock and he asked, what do you like about it, and I replied that I love how the skin moves over the shaft when I suck it. He countered with, “how about the way it stretches your cunt open” and for a second there I was thinking what?!!!. And a split second later it occurred to me that yes, his cock can also be used for fucking my cunt and not just my mouth. I suspect I have an oral obsession.
Long and short of it, I have to clear my schedule. Can you believe I still have not received my spanking related birthday surprise I was promised? And I need to be hurt so badly. I want his hands on me not in the nice blissful way. I want to feel how hard and heavy his hands are. I want him to be cruel. I need him to make me scream. I NEED it. The little masochist girl in me is getting close to start begging for it. And I hate begging for it. It’s one of the very few things that still have the capacity to make me shy. But I can’t help it. Any second now I am going to make a tray of a ginger plug, his biggest butt plug, nipple clamps and his belt then strip naked, go down on my knees and kneel somewhere noticeable and wait for him to ravage me.
Puhhhhleeeeeeaaaaaaasssse. Hurttttt meeee.
Ok, that’s just sad.
*laughing*
You know what is stoking my fire by the way? I usually tend to maintain a slow burn for a long time without complaining. What is making it worse is that he wants to hurt me and I can see it in his eyes and feel it in the way he touches me. He wants to bruise me and when he wants, I go into a frenzy. He can give me a hungry look and walk away and I go from a mild state of horny into wet, flushed and begging for it in 2 seconds. His desire is my aphrodisiac.
Ok, I am going to go schedule myself some sex. Or at least a blow job and a spanking.
I think the hardest part for me when I was getting started was actually accepting the label of submissive, it seems to have a bad connotation with it in every day society, and was connected with being passive too much, or a push over. I’m not necessarily submissive in every day environments, especially not to everyone, although I do have my submissive tendencies. Just because someone tells me to do something doesn’t mean that I am going to go and do it. I do like making people comfortable and making sure people are alright, but there is an extent. Also I had to argue with the fact that I love to debate with people and have discussions where I don’t easily back down. I also had to deal with the fact that I had spent most of my years from elementary school to recent to prove that I could do anything a guy could do. I felt like proclaiming that I was submissive took away from that and discredited any attempts or successes of the past sense I had ideas of submitting to a man. I somehow felt that would make me less of a person.
I eventually had to come to understand that the fact that I am submissive doesn’t change me as a person, it’s not like all the sudden I wake up, decide I’m submissive and never have an argument again, and never try to prove I can do things just as well as the next person, that just wasn’t it. I also had to learn that being submissive doesn’t mean I am submissive to every person out there, and defiantly not even every person that calls themselves a Dom. I had to learn that I didn’t mind being submissive to one person. It doesn’t make me any less of a person, and it doesn’t make me weak. This issue has come up with me at least twice so far, once when I first entered the BDSM world which was the hardest and another time while I was in my relationship, which wasn’t as big of an issue it was just a matter of reminding myself.
I had to understand that I am only submissive to my Master, and that doesn’t make me weak, and it doesn’t mean I am a doormat. I think it becomes quite the opposite; it makes me a stronger person. Not only am I able to trust him and his decisions, weather I fully understand them or not, I can trust him to make the correct decisions which I have learned over this past year. I trust myself more now in knowing I made the right decision in choosing to be his submissive which gives me a sense of empowerment strangely enough. It also shows you how to fess up to your actions and take responsibility, regardless if it was there before or not it’s a whole different concept. It gives you a whole new sense of accountability and honesty. For example for him to make the best decision he needs to know of all the aspects of the situation which requires me to tell them to him no matter what they may be. Which is different because I am used to taking responsibility for my actions, the difference is its not in the terms of then explaining them to someone else, and not just acknowledging that I made the ones I did. If I do have an issue with something I know I should bring it up. It’s not wrong to ask questions, or raise concerns, or have an opinion if you don’t then how will they ever know you have them?
I also had to realize that its not that I’m incapable of making a decision, it’s that if I want to live under him I do so by his standards, and by allowing him to make the decisions he feels are necessary, and going in the direction he feels is best for me and us. It’s more of being able to trust that he weighed all the pros and cons and made the best choice for you. It has also built my confidence in many ways, I know that when I do as he says I will always have someone to back me up and be there for me, and stand behind me. Someone who will not let me fail, and will encourage me to try again, and if I am stuck or need help, that there is always some there for me.
I don’t think this would apply to any relationship though, I don’t think these words would hold true had I ended up choosing any other Dom. I had met quite a few before I met my Dom, and I could never see myself trusting them the same as I trust my Master now. I couldn’t see myself allowing myself to submit to them at least not to the same extent I am working on with my Master. Just with the way they acted, carried themselves, the way they expected there to be a certain amount of ooh’s and aah’s because they called themselves a Dom, the way they acted, and the fact that I felt I could out smart them with a majority of things. At that point I somewhat dismissed my taking on the submissive label in a sense. I knew I was submissive still ,that didn’t change, but I didn’t know, where to place that at the time, if it was something I then just wanted in the bedroom, or something that I wanted full time. I had basically changed my mind and decided that my idea was my fantasy. I didn’t see it in the cards that I would find someone I could trust someone to the extent of handing over my decisions to be made for me, and allowing myself to submit to someone, and give them any type of control within my day to day life. Especially after meeting some of the Dom’s I met I thought it was just going to be all for entertainment after that, something to somewhat sit and laugh at later. I didn’t really think there was going to be anyone that I would meet that I would click with, or anyone half way sane, but it also made me laugh. I guess half of me was holding out hope and figured it couldn’t hurt if I met up with people in my spare time. Basically what I learned from this is there are many different types of Dom’s out there, there are going to be a lot that are not for you and maybe a handful that are your type. Don’t build yourself up every time going “this is it this has to be the one! We’re meeting up and then were going to be together forever” look at things rationally. Also don’t let the idiots block you from your happiness, enjoy the entertainment while your searching and have fun with it. But please be safe about it, and don’t settle for someone who isn’t a match for you, they arn’t going to change for you, just like they shouldn’t expect you to change for them.
Recently I began interacting with a new submissive. it’s enthusiasm and desire to serve was charming. it’s organic want to please divine. while I had great hopes for it and the dynamic we were building, I knew it was time to say good bye. Bittersweet yet severely necessary. After much analysis and contemplation I felt it was in it’s best interest to terminate the mere thought of it’s servitude- as it’s life situation was not conducive to what a honest D/s relationship would require. It is hard to say good bye and release someone when you know that the gift of servitude is a pure pleasure in their heart. Yet it IS a Dominates responsibility to recognize when one’s emotional state is fragile and life needs time to heal. While part of me mourns the beautiful submission it offered, it was indeed in ‘it’s’ best interest to be released. For many being released is the highest dishonor, yet at times, depending on situation- it comes for a warm and loving place. I warmly wish you my friend lots of healing light. Saying good bye to our D/s relationship is not saying good bye to friendship. It’s our friendship that has led me to this most caring decision. While I am a Dominate, I am human first. Safe, sane and consensual…always.
Sure it has to do with the fun of role-playing, but much of the time it’s really about something way deeper than that: it’s about the power of healing, something that is so often so hard to get in touch with, especially where we need it most.
Role-playing, if you take it seriously enough, becomes REAL. Your mind forgets that you have constructed a situation, and “goes on autopilot,” and you just go with things as they are. Kink/BDSM (bondage/discipline/dominance/submission/sado-masochism) allows us to do this where we are often most vulnerable: in the primal/sexual arena of life.
Some of our most extreme feelings happen in the realm of sex and intimacy. Feelings of unbridled passion, beautiful sensations, sensual flights to distant spiritual lands… and then, unfortunately, there is the flip side when it stops or goes badly. Feelings of inadequacy, of worthlessness, of disappointment and shame. These intense feelings rip control from our grasp, knocking us around and often leaving a traumatic feeling of having been violated.
A friend of mine who is studying child psychology notes that a significant amount people in the fetish scene went through certain traumas as children–experiences that left them feeling abandoned, violated, or markedly disoriented. This is not the case for everybody, but it does illustrate how powerful BDSM is for people who have intimate questions about the nature of their very existence–questions that cannot be answered with a 5-minute conversation, or even a 5-hour one.
As “dangerous” as BDSM sometimes sounds, it is actually so powerful and therapeutic because it must involve safety and trust, otherwise it won’t work! But you see, once you do assume complete trust and attention to safety, you become free to do and experience things you could not normally–such as putting yourself in pain. Thing is that, where there is pain in a safe context, no matter how sharp it is in a moment, there will soon be healing–and healing feels so good and soothing.
The actual physical aspect of BDSM is only one aspect of the experience, and often not the principal one. It is the psychology of possibility that really drives things… the feeling that, for example, when you have someone tied up, you could do anything to them–or, if you’re the one tied up, that the other person could do anything to you. It is healing precisely because it is extreme–or rather, because the possibilities are extreme.
This goes just as much for the dominant, power-wielding person as it does for the submissive. A person taking on the dominant role may feel inadequate at times, fear being disrespected, or simply want to be admired. By exercising power over the submissive, the dominant person is able to transcend fears of not being adequate or not being respected. And thus as a matter of course, proper behavior in the dominant role involves being intimately in touch with the person you are dominating, always listening and making sure they are enjoying the experience too. Through this kind of interaction, you build confidence in your abilities and learn to trust yourself, as other people learn to trust you, and that quickly spreads to other areas of life.
The key throughout all this is that, because these activities are safe and consensual to start with, you get to own your own experience. So, for example, if you were sexually assaulted and/or have a fear of being forced, you can actually use “rape play” as a way to face that experience in an atmosphere of safety and trust. It’s like a fantasy, except it is real–but you can hit the stop button anytime. And facing down and owning a fear, especially an intimate one that isn’t easy to talk about, is one of the most healing things you can do for your soul.
The best control isn’t about restraints, collars or fancy equipment. It isn’t confined to submission or a specific session. The best control is the kind that you can’t help, that you remember consenting to and now there isn’t an easy path back. Mind play is one of a number of things that Mummy introduced babykat to herself, and in that way it will always be special to us, something that babykat associates with Mummy, where she will always be the one with that hold on her.
Mummy’s voice really is perfect. It’s like that kind of candy you can’t get enough of, that you find yourself stealing a few minutes for yourself to get back to. Whether it’s on the phone, or an mp3, Mummy’s voice has a huge effect on babykat. Maybe it’s her accent that’s so attractive, or maybe that it’s filled with emotion and a completely sweet sounding voice. It is like candy, babykat’s favourite candy. Maybe it’s the way that she’s just so nice! There’s a deeper love than just the connection babykat feels hearing Mummy, though. Something that’s most likely incomprehensible to many of those beyond the mind play scene. The hypnosis element of our relationship means that babykat has a desire for Mummy’s voice in her ear. It’s her weakness. It’s the voice that could tell her to puncture her skin with needles, and she would. There really is a switch, buried deep inside babykat’s mind, that flicks over as Mummy speaks up.. babykat focuses, shuts off distractions and mundane thoughts, feels that for those moments, Mummy is all that matters in her world.
It’s a delicious feeling, it really is. The moment when you close your eyes and feel like you’re falling, except it’s into something better than sleep. To have no other care, to know that Mummy is looking after her babykat and it’s their time together. The flood of emotions that hypnosis brings on is something equally addictive, as much as Mummy’s voice itself. In that, there’s the huge element of connection, love, trust, the feeling that babykat is special to Mummy and wants to do this for her, and how she knows exactly what’s best. (Because, despite everything Mummy does for her babykat, it’s still hard to believe babykat’s so special to her.. not because she doubts it, but purely that she can’t believe she’s so lucky when she doesn’t deserve all this..) It’s not only relaxing, but reassuring. Whether babykat is angry or upset or overexcited, hypnosis and her change in mood afterwards just lets her settle down. The feelings don’t disappear, but she’s calmed enough to let them out. She’s even found herself crying once or twice because it’s just such a relief to be taken any from any troubles and to forget about why she felt down. Mummy’s hypnosis has become desirable as an escape from day-to-day stresses, as well as the need to feel a deeper connection with Mummy.
When Mummy sent babykat her first hypnosis mp3, she never thought she’d really get into it. Babykat had done some research about erotic hypnosis and had become interested but not really fully convinced. The thought stuck in her mind, ‘it would never work on me, I’ll try but it won’t work’, as clips from the internet seemed impersonal and ineffective. Batlings was different. The main difference being that she made it for babykat. Yes, she’s sent babykat a couple of others that she’s done for public sale rather than for babykat privately, and now that babykat has fallen deeper under her spell those have almost as much of an effect. Inside, though, she’ll always reach for the unique ones.. the ones where Mummy was thinking of babykat as she spoke. For babykat’s first few times, this was particularly important. It made her less scared. It reminded her why she wanted to begin this journey and how both Mummy and herself were both glad she had. Although babykat didn’t know what was coming, she knew that whatever train of thought Mummy had decided was best for her, it was for her only. It was reassuring because Mummy would be particularly careful and slow with her, and even from the first few words, being given time to get used to the sound of Mummy’s voice, meant that babykat felt more at ease. She had taken this step and was anxious that it became a part of her relationship with Mummy, because she knows how much it means to her, having someone share her passion. Babykat never thought it would be her own passion, however, she thought it would become a duty, just another task.
But Mummy’s created an addiction.
Mummy’s mp3 is having a particular effect on her at the moment, she listens three times during the day usually. Since the first few days getting used to Mummy’s voice, it’s not something babykat has to prepare herself for anymore. She used to feel the need to get in the right mindset, to relax and have a little think about Batling before she began to listen. But now it’s just become a part of her everyday routine, she has the file on her iPod and looks forward to those times when she can take time out and fall under Mummy’s control. It’s gradually becoming a more and more desirable five minutes to listen to, some days babykat ends up finding excuses to turn it on and more recently, has taken to listening to it while she masturbates. It’s such a turn on to have Batling’s voice in her ear as she reaches climax, or before she falls asleep. It’s funny, the way babykat’s mind has worked. The initial doubt in this aspect of their relationship has developed into a craving for the mp3s, a feeling of frustration and not being complete without them. Her mind has opened so readily to Batling’s voice, and it’s her that heart skips a beat when she receives a new file. After one listen, the topic of the session is firmly set in her mind. After a fortnight of regular listening, it’s become fact, a rule, a restriction. Mummy’s voice is stronger than any chastity belt she could lock to babykat.
Opening that first mp3 took a lot from babykat. To want hypnosis to be a significant element in your relationship takes a lot of dedication, and shouldn’t be taken lightly. Being eager for it initially didn’t lessen the length of time babykat spend thinking about a life with hypnosis before she took the first step, because as a beginner it’s a very daunting, if not scary prospect. To have somebody be able to tap into your mind, to give them that core part of you requires so much trust, so much understanding. It’s not as easy as a scene is to stop. While safe words are effective with physical play, with mind play the logistics are different. To an onlooker, pressing ’stop’ on an iPod or giving a safe word over the phone may seem the obvious option, but under trance it’s different. Having been listening to Mummy’s mp3s for a couple of months now means that babykat feels she can give a valid description of the way it feels to be, almost out of control.
To begin with, it was difficult to relax and lose herself in Mummy’s voice, but now she feels that she falls deeper than ever with each step Mummy has her take into trance. It’s not how she thought it would be. Babykat is never completely unaware of her actions, her surroundings. She knows where she is and that she’s listening to Mummy (something that’s beginning to sound as if Mummy’s really there), and she still feels herself.. well, that’s the thing. She was about to say ’she still feels herself lifting her arms to rub each letter one by one from the chalkboard, falling deeper into trance’. But of course, babykat doesn’t actually move her arms, and that’s what makes hypnosis so powerful. It’s the inability to distinguish between reality and the description within the audio. The way an image within the audio described is so vivid that it’s beyond being told, and it’s as if it’s being inscribed into babykat’s mind. The connection made is that which makes hypnosis so exciting. You never know what’s coming. There’s no preparation needed, or anxst beforehand because you can see what’s about to restrain you. It’s all in your own mind, but in a way in which you have no control over. It’s amazing and terrifying at the same time. Babykat is sure that there are people out there who could pull themselves out of a trance, most likely hypnotists themselves, but she certainly isn’t one of them. It’s like packing all your schoolwork away into a box and focusing on your favourite book. Like taking a plane without knowing its destination, and telling no-one where you are. Part of the attraction is that hypnosis is so intimate. It’s just Mummy and babykat, holding a connection that’s uninterruptable for those special minutes.
So now you can see why a safeword is worthless? The direct connection that babykat’s mind makes, turning the description under trance into a belief of reality means that the thought that a safeword exists isn’t even there. Mummy’s talking to her and she shouldn’t need to interrupt. It’s a lesson, imposing advice or help or even strong boundaries. You wouldn’t just ask a lesson to end. It is this lack of desire which forms the initial resistance. Beyond that there are two ‘feelings’ that are just about describable. Firstly, the attention side of it. There’s no part of babykat that is focused on the idea of a safe word, or any word or action beyond the audio. It’s not about willpower, because she’s totally under Mummy’s control when she’s in trance, and that’s the only feed into her mind. Mummy can alter her desires and shift her attention. Really. Secondly, the actual inability to move. It isn’t numbness or a feeling that your limbs aren’t there. Babykat knows they are, in fact she’s even more aware of every sensation in her body a lot of the time. Instead, the feeling is such that from your eyes downwards your whole body is heavy, muscles are so relaxed that the limbs are simply immobilized. No about of willpower can change that either. Babykat couldn’t move her fingers if she wanted to and besides, she never wants to. There won’t be a safe word. It’s as simple as that.
The lack of a safeword during a session has such a powerful effect on babykat’s mind. She knows she can’t pull herself out, that it’s Mummy in control. But it also means that the vital communication element of BDSM is altered. It has to be before the session, all of it. Without this communication, hypnosis poses risks. You wouldn’t start a scene without a safe word, after all. As much love and trust as you can have for someone, and however much the idea of hypnosis arouses you (it does for babykat, at least!) you need to know what’s planned. It’s your mind they’ll be playing with, and that’s not something to be taken lightly. Communication is a fundemental part of babykat’s relationship with Batling, and without it, it wouldn’t be as strong as it is. Babykat trusts her, but still asks to know the aim of the audio. Batling plays with babykat, but babykat isn’t her plaything. She’s a real person with real feelings and a mind that’s just as fragile as Mummy’s own.
It makes her love Mummy even more because she is able to to put her whole trust in her, hand over little pieces of her mind for Mummy to explore. Hypnosis is perfect for her relationship with Batling. She was scared to try at first, but she’s so glad she did. And babykat adores the pleasure Mummy gets from hypnosis with her, because beyond everything else, babykat wants Mummy happy. Babykat is slowly developing and knows that Batling will be with her every step. Babykat knows she doesn’t have to hold back.
Marco Bolognesi does awesome photography along the lines of something you’d see in Sci-fi or Fantasy. He combines images we’re used to seeing in more typical fashion photography, with surreal, and even fetishist themes that makes his work stand apart from typical BDSM or fashion photography.
From his website:
Marco Bolognesi is a multimedia artist with experience encompassing drawing, painting, cinema, photography and video. His influences include religious iconography, science fiction, street art, avant-garde manifestos and pop icons.
Bolognesi’s artistic identity is a multi-faceted one. After spending his childhood in an artistic environment and attending DAMS, the school of drama, arts and music in Italy, where he thrived upon a diverse means of expression, he chose for his final thesis to analyse works by the artist and filmmaker Peter Greenaway. In 1994 still in Italy, Bolognesi went on to illustrate a selection of works by the poet Roberto Roversi and the following year he collaborated with the graphic artist Guido Crepax on a comic strip. In 1994 also he shot his first short film, ‘Giustizia e Verità’, on the victims of terrorism, which was subsequently screened at the Venice Biennale. In this experimental documentary, images and music are deeply interwoven, as they are in his second short film on the same theme ‘Il Partito del Silenzio’, which was made in 1996. His overall editing method was so particular and his style so original, that both films were presented in Rome by the Academy Award winning composer Ennio Morricone, and then toured internationally around the Italian Cultural Institutes. Cinema subsequently became Bolognesi’s focus and he soon started working as a director’s assistant for some well known directors, including the controversial Nanni Moretti. Although during this period his fascination with the moving image remained, he decided to explore the potential of still images and the photographic medium.
I was talking about the article I posted on Wednesday and the follow up article written by the same person (it is pretty good too). He was at the party and thought it was a good article, but was disturbed that a private event was reported on. That got me to thinking. My response was that we were always under observation.
We all live under glass.
Every day, every where, we are all being watched. At work, at play we are surrounded. People are watching us and judging us. In the past, gossip would be the means that this information was spread. People talk. When we got together, stories would be told. Usually the tales told were the truth, sometimes creative interpretations, but sadly sometimes these yarns were maliciousness. The difference is that today we have Twitter, Facebook, and FetLife to gather around and spread our stories. Life is more public than ever.It will get out, even if we don’t want it to.
We all live under glass.
Watch what you do.
It will be seen.
People will talk. They always have.
Yes character counts, that is true. But people cannot see your character. They can only see what you do. People are not mind readers, they will not see your true intentions, cannot know what is in your heart. This goes for your friends, your slave, and your enemies. You friends will love what you do, your enemies will try to twist it. Your actions will speak louder than your words. Be consistent, don’t be erratic in your actions. You can and will out live the malicious attacks of those that try to twist your words.
Try always to act in a way that is true to yourself and you will do fine. Remember:
As I am a lazy little girl today and quite frankly, just returned home from a garish night of doctors appointments and unhappy needle sticks. I am going to bed, but not before I leave you with a few more pretty pictures to look at…
I am a fan of rope bondage. Truly it takes a singular talent, time and appreciation. It is also one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.
I was reading a kinky message board and found a post called “Looking for a toy…” and, like when one drives past a car wreak, I just had to look. It consisted of a single line, where a women asked any submissive men to pm her. With no details at all posted about herself (her first post.)
God damn it, this is why we can’t have nice things. There are so many things wrong with this I don’t know where to start, and the sad thing is you know that this person got tons of messages based entirely on nothing! Are submissive men really this desperate? That they would immediately throw themselves at any WSH (woman shaped object.)? This just screams objectification to me, it turns the woman into a prop that you use as a set piece for your fantasies. And that’s not a fulfilling place for anyone.
Of course she’s not entirely without blame either, it this sort of behaviour (admittedly from a minority) and sense of self entitlement that allow this attitude to persist. It’s sad to see one pedestal for another.
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If you go to It’s My Pleasure or SheBop, it’s cash only dollfaces. If you want to pay with a card, go online and pay.
OH… AND GUESS WHAT??? We are paying the service fee at Brown Paper Tickets. Because you have welcomed us and we appreciate you, we will handle the $1.99 for you. It’s just a flat $15. PERIOD!
I took this little test today, thought it was pretty telling. Shocker, I’m submissive. The specific breakdown of things was interesting to me, as it gave a perspective on which things trip my trigger.Tie me up, hold me down, make me yours. Yep, pretty much does it for me. http://quizfarm.com/quizzes/Sex/poeticthinker/do-you-have-an-inclination-for-bdsm.
You Scored as Submissive
(((Note: This quiz is not totally comprehensive because of the length such a quiz would be. I kept it sex-based because I felt that psychological profiles and motivations were too complicated and vary too greatly among people that practice BDSM.))) It feels good to serve. A lack of control in the bedroom can be fun and relaxing. Being with a dominant person wouldn’t be a bad idea.
So this past weekend I get a very random text from a photographer friend of mine.
“I have a couple looking for a Domme to session tonight. Can I pass along your information?”
Due to how selective I am- I usually have a long process of filtering out potential new playmates. Yet this photographer I’ve known for a while and is someone I respect tremendously and consider a friend. So I knew I wasn’t going to be thrown some random couple. I was assured that this couple was perfectly sane and actually personal friends that the photographer. So with that validation I decided to touch base with the couple.
When we chatted I learned that the hubby was indeed a seasoned submissive, his wife a newbie who wants to explore her submissive side as well and along side of her husband. We discussed their needs, limits and play style. hubby claimed to be a pain slut, which intrigues me. Yet I’ve learned that most who proclaim such are usually taken back by my methods of testing that theory.
While I had a full schedule for the evening, I was able to squeeze in a hour of debauchery in between festivities. So, let the fun begin.
As they walked into the dungeon I could smell the anticipation and nervousness. It fuels me. Although, being mindful of the wife’s newness I softened the approach by allowing them to settle in. We discussed their desired scene, went over safety precautions as well as my expectations for the evening. We had a rush lesson of BDSM 101 for the mrs and taught her the proper way to present herself. I then asked her to get dressed while I began with the husband.
As he kneeled before me presenting himself. I motioned with my fingers to look into my eyes. Pain slut resonated through my malicious mind. I warmingly cupped my right hand along his face and held it there. Looking deep into his eyes. I smiled and quickly layed upon his face my signature sting. The look of sheer terror and shock rang from his flushed face as his eyes tried to regain composure. wife GASPED. I giggled. “Pain Slut- are we?” I mocked. A moment of stutter then he says astonishingly, “I’ve never been slapped so hard Mistress.” I let it settle in a moment and grazed his cheek with my palm, simply to feel him jump at the thought of another. Just the thought…
As the night progressed, I introduced the wife to flogging and the various types of floggers. Their sensation and use. She met the St Andrews Cross, Spanking bench, paddles, feathers etc. her eagerness and thirst to experience was rather sweet. The sadist in me had to take a back seat for this exploratory session. I found the connection this couple shared was strong and enduring. They came to me to safely open their minds and push boundaries gently.
We shared a session of beautiful power exchange. Both husband and wife blissfully in subspace. Learning the basic protocol and exploring their deepest desires. Truly beautiful. At the conclusion of our time, I had them both kneel before me holding hands-heads bowed. I saw the wife with a satisfied smile as she looked toward the floor. Their breathing beginning to calm and deepen. With a squeeze of hands visible- they began to understand we were almost done. It warmed my heart. They both kissed my boots like synchronized swimmers. I command their eye contact and embrace them both assuring them that yes, this was indeed a special moment in their relationship. With a warm smile I release them and ask the husband one more time: “pain slut are we?” as I snickered. My how I love couples sessions.
I just finished reading Clarisse Thorn’s account of her developing relationship in South Africa with a Baha’i sex educator, who is for religious reasons abstinent. She doesn’t yet know what the parameters of that are, and Clarisse being Clarisse, she’ll probably write some interesting things about it as she finds out. (These Carnal Nation bloggers make my life easy. They have all this smart stuff to say, and I just bulk-paste it and comment on it.)
So far, she says, she’s told him: “I promise not to push you- though I confess I’m curious about the vow’s limits. ” Clarisse, as she communicates clearly in this piece and at her own blog, is a BDSMer, and a BDSM educator. For her (and for me), eliminating any one act from the palette of sexual intimacy is not really all that critical. She muses, for instance:
And maybe, just maybe, his vow allows him to practice BDSM … a girl can dream, right? But seriously, if we can do BDSM together, then I just might be his dream partner. I’d be happy to focus our sexual time on BDSM and foreplay, and to ignore “actual” sex indefinitely.
I bristle at the “foreplay/actual sex” construction. I think that’s part of the problem. But that’s a minor point.
BDSM, depending on the BDSMer you ask, may be sex, or not sex but sexual, or not sexual but sensual, or not sexual at all, depending on the participants and the particular scene. It makes perfect sense to me that this guy would be able to do a lot of varied and very heavy BDSM with heavily erotic components without feeling he’s in violation of his vows, but I don’t know enough about Baha’i religious thinking, or about him, to know if that’s how it actually works for him. And apparently neither does Clarisse. Yet.
At a minimum, Clarisse is thinking here about embarking on a relationship without PIV for the forseeable future. She notes the irony, but that should be entirely workable. I’ve been in a long relationship that involved BDSM but no PIV (though it was an open relationship). It wasn’t a problem. I can and do negotiate my sexuality around my partners’ needs and limits. We all do; it is only a view of sexual conduct that places PIV on a particular pedestal that makes this limitation any more problematic than many others. Speaking for myself, I certainly could not have a relationship without BDSM unless I had another outlet for it; while no PIV in my primary relationship would be a relatively less significant issue for me. I’m not the only person to say that; Patrick Califia said some time back when the earth was cooling (and before he transitioned) that he’d rather be stuck on a desert island with a leatherman than a vanilla dyke.
But I realized that the flexibility that I adopt for my partners’ needs may sometimes be at the expense of flexibility for my own needs. Clarisse said,
I think a man who wants to abstain has a far trickier journey ahead of him than a woman: America’s sexual assumptions may be formed around stereotypical male sexuality—which really sucks for women—but it’s a very narrow stereotype that limits men too. Men are expected to be insatiable, and preferring not to have sex casts a man’s entire masculinity into question. His abstinence can cause anxiety for the female partner, too: after all, given an assumption that men are nigh-indiscriminate sex machines, a woman might feel that there’s something terribly wrong with her if a man won’t bang her.
[Emphasis supplied.]
I’ll cop to this being hard to write.
I can’t say no to my spouse. In thirteen years together, I have not turned her down for sex; not once, not ever. If she wants me to top, I’ll top. If I’d rather bottom, I’ll ask. If she wants to be eaten, I go down on her, and if she wants to be fucked, we fuck. If I’d prefer to get fucked or to get a handjob, I’ll say so; she’s flexible about how she and I get off. I have no problem communicating a preference in how we’re sexually intimate, but … I can’t say no. I can’t just say I’m not interested.
It’s not like she hasn’t noticed. She has said outright that she knows I’ve never turned her down. And that if I ever did, she would know something was seriously wrong. And that’s true. I wouldn’t turn her down just because I’m too tired or I have my mind on other things. I can always get my head in the right place at least for a quickie; I always have.
In a way, it’s a moot point. The reason that’s the pattern is in part because I’m so hypersexual. Even as my body ages and finds its limits, my preference for frequency is much higher than what our lives allow. I pretty much am good to go all the time. And yet, it has occurred to me that our dynamics have evolved so that it’s not really an unconstrained choice.
This is not a two-way street. She can be, and frequently is, too tired, or unwilling to give up the extra sleep, or just plain not in the mood. I don’t nag; if she says “no”, it’s a complete answer. Not that she ignores when I say no. I just … don’t say it. Not ever.
The reason I bring this up is that I don’t know how much of this is my need to keep my partner happy; and how much of it is Thomas the self-described hypersexual kinkster. A certain amount of “anywhere, anytime” is important to my self-definition. And I don’t know how much of the rest is me playing out just the gender role Clarisse points out, and reacting to that role as my spouse projects it on me. But it’s not right to just let these assumptions hang around unexamined. So there it is.
I’m fairly sure that I’m writing this blog for my own cathartic reasons, but never the less, I can never start a diary or other such ongoing piece of prose about myself without an introduction of some sort…it’s an addiction; send help. I do feel however that this isn’t going to be my usual ‘family friendly’ snippet of information, so I’ll get the warning out of the way.
I am a 20 year old female and, of my own volition, I am incarcerated in the world of BDSM, D/s, M/s, and all of the ramifications (god I love that world) of such an existence are accepted and welcomed by myself at all times. There may be times when what I write or the way I write makes it sound non-consensual; it isn’t. I am likely to be blunt, coarse and likely obscene in my manner of description…if any of the above offends you then I suggest you find another blog to peruse. Even if you are kinkily inclined I’d caution you that I may still touch on your raw points or hard limits. You have been warned.
If you are still here, well then, welcome to my twisted fairytale of a life. *grins darkly*
A little about me as a person
I am a twenty year old female; I’m submissive and a slave to the right Master; I appreciate pain; I will fight you if you challenge me; In day to day life I like to think of myself as caring and open minded with a good ear for listening; I don’t look like a ‘bad girl’; I am a piercing junky; I have an unhealthy obsession with kitchen utensils and crave my own home to decorate to my heart’s content; I wish I was a 1950’s wife.
I came to writing this blog after reading the blogs of two friends, namely JamTart and Miss Despotic. I very rarely post about my likes/wants/fantasies/dark yearnings, so I figured ‘why not?’ at the least it’ll amuse me and at best it’ll amuse you as well. You may be thinking my warning was a little extreme, but I’m hoping you’ll see in the coming posts that it really isn’t; I like it to be almost illegal
Well, in reality I guess the legality of everything I indulge in is questionable, as you cannot consent to GBH or assault, but as I’ll never name names, I’m hoping it’ll be ok. One thing’s for sure…I can’t give this buzz up; it’s my life blood.
The story revolves around Oribe Mafuyu and Yamanobe Tomo, who were raised by Tomo’s father at the private St. Mikhailov Academy who was once the headmaster, until when he disappeared. Now the two shojos are taking on the world living by themselves. Because of Mayufu being over a protective “mommas girl” towards Tomo, their classmates tend to tease and make ridicule them to make their lives -literally- a living hell. -insert noticable minor character intros here- One day, on their way back home from school, they come across an unconscious boy after Tomo (acting like a clutz) falls on top of him by accident and sheer coincidence of the precise timing. They decide to take him back home to offer him some hospitality. While the two girls figure out whether this unconscious little boy is a boy or girl, since they didn’t know as he looked in between of a boy and girl, they decide to take the precautionary as suggested by Tomo than to investigate his abdomen just to be sure. Little what they knew during their moment of inspiration, the boy makes a run for it behind their backs.
While Mayufu wanders off by herself to look for the unconscious now live boy she finds that the church dear to them and especially Tomo’s father on fire. Upon entering the scene, Mayufu quickly then attempts to retrieve the “icon”, as it’s the least thing she could save, only until she is then suddenly ambushed and tied up by Mysterious Masked Villain A. For some unknown reason Mysterious Masked Villain A knows who Mayufu and Tomo are and doesn’t believe that anyone especially Tomo isn’t going to come to save her, that is, when the boy who legged it who was once unconscious blissfully arrives and does just that.
The boy manages to save Mayufu in the nick of time but unfortunately runs out of Soma (in other words; BITTY! BREAST MILK!). Fortunately, the nun Teresa appears as well (who was briefly introduced earlier on) and offers her breast milk to the boy, which in while doing so, makes Mayufu reminds herself of an icon she once seen. Re-spawning and replenishing his well-being, the boy, now regarded as a Quasar, to bring forth a magical and deadly scythe like that of a Grim Reaper’s and totally beats the crap out of Mysterious Masked Villain A. Unmasking her in the process and making her flee.
After the sudden battle, Mafuyu tries to thank the boy for saving her, but he tells her instead that “those who can’t save themselves don’t deserve to survive” and that she has to take hold of things on her own (ownage). The next day, little did Mayufu knew, a new transfer student arrives at St. Mikhailov Academy! And much to Mayufu’s surprise, the transfer student is actually the boy who saved her the day before! Introducing his name as “Alexander Nikolayevich Her”, Mayufu tries to convince Alexander (I’ll call him that for now) to spill the beans, but he thinks that it’s better left unsaid for now. When the girls who usually torment Mayufu and Tomo comes up to the boy, he acts all cold and arrogant towards them and proceeds on to make a quick grope towards Tomo’s breast (luckyyy). In the end, he warns Mafuyu that “misfortune falls on those who get near him” and walks off in the campus.
Absolute disaster. Due to the heavy edits done by terrestrial broadcasters almost completely all the fanservice and ecchi/close-to-hentai scenes have been cut out and even ridiculously muted the erotic moaning sounds our female cast makes. Since I’ve yet to read the manga (and the rest adapted into anime series in 2009) I actually couldn’t really understand what the heck was going on at certain times. In fact, as I was streaming this episode, at times the screen would just momentarily freeze, making me think my laptop was acting up, but as matter in fact, it was actually meant to be there to edit out the risky scenes to show on terrestrial TV at the dead of night (srsly nao come on…). But on the bright side, a few ecchi bits where left untouched, such as… the strangely stimulating group hug, a little bug’s eye view of Tomo’s boobs, Mayufu’s expression of her first bondage, Mayufu’s flashy panties when being freed by Alexander and Tomo getting groped by the same boy.
The episode turned out as I predicted it to be. Little action scenes as this is just the first episode, little bits of flashback upon the history of the characters before the series’ time frame, and a little sense of character development. To tell you the truth, at first, when I came across Quasar during my decision of what to watch this season, I’ve always thought of Quasar of being one of those typical action adventure shonen battle series I’ve haven’t seen for such a long time. Until I read the Wiki article that is, when my hopes and dreams were utterly shattered and thus cranks up the perverse side of me (thank you). Haha
The opening is called “Errand” by Faylan, who if you never noticed is the same female artist who sung the opening of Canaan, “mind of judgement”. A bit at a slower pace compared to her singing for Canaan’s opening, but hey, great song there. Ending is called “Pasionate squall”, sung by Ayumi Fujimura, Aki Toyosaki, Minori Chihara, Aya Hirano and Yōko Hikasa. Typically, most of the seiyuus of the main and supporting characters. A little more up tempo compared to the opening, and being performed by the seiyuus of the show, it feels a bit more welcoming than third-party artists if you know what I mean.
Speaking of voice actors, check out the current list of the cast;
Yuko Sanpei as Sasha Ai Shimizu as Lizzie Aki Toyosaki as Tomo Yamanobe Aya Hirano as Katja Ayahi Takagaki as Ayana Minase Ayako Kawasumi as Miyuri Tsujidō Ayumi Fujimura as Mafuyu Oribe Kana Hanazawa as Fumika Mitarai Minori Chihara as Teresa Beria Susumu Chiba as Yūri Noda Toru Ohkawa as Shin’ichirō Ōtori Yōko Hikasa as Hana Katsuragi
More notable and obvious seiyuus here. Say like; Aki Toyasaki… Aya Kirano… Ayako Kawasumi… familiar seiyuus this.
As I’ve heard from a certain source that AT-X is planning to air Quasar on the 26th-something this month, with AT-X known for its uncensored anime broadcasting being a digital channel, I shall put Quasar on hold for now and wait till if AT-X WILL decide to air Quasar on their channel and will air the UNCENSORED version, compared to the analogue channels…
Well that’s it for me now. Take care and leave behind the cookies.
I haven’t decided yet how I feel about Lick My Legs. They sell a variety of print t-shirts and dresses, all in vanilla cuts and styles, that have kinky prints on them, a nod to kinky couture.
photography along the lines of something you’d see in Sci-fi or Fantasy. He combines images we’re used to seeing in more typical fashion photography, with surreal, and even fetishist themes that makes his work stand apart from typical BDSM or fashion photography.
theme ‘Il Partito del Silenzio’, which was made in 1996. His overall editing method was so particular and his style so original, that both films were presented in Rome by the Academy Award winning composer Ennio Morricone, and then toured internationally around the Italian Cultural Institutes. Cinema subsequently became Bolognesi’s focus and he soon started working as a director’s assistant for some well known directors, including the controversial Nanni Moretti. Although during this period his fascination with the moving image remained, he decided to explore the potential of still images and the photographic medium.
As I am a lazy little girl today and quite frankly, just returned home from a garish night of doctors appointments and unhappy needle sticks. I am going to bed, but not before I leave you with a few more pretty pictures to look at…
I am a fan of rope bondage. Truly it takes a singular talent, time and appreciation. It is also one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.
