Pi Day Planning
March 14th, 2013
What to write tonight? It’s after 11 and I really have to go to bed, the next 36.5 hours are going to be rough. Work early in the morning, then rush around to get ready, pick up gear, set up for class and party, run electric scenes, clean up, go to work just a few hours after I get home, and then hopefully still be awake enough to drive home at 11am. The writing group is really not helpful for actual writing. Every week I’ve gone, I’ve taken something with me to write on, but nothing useful ever gets written. I wrote a few notes last week, an author’s name this week. One week, I wrote a tiny flash of a stun gun scene description, but it wasn’t much of anything. Damnable stun gun makes my brain go all wibbly. Did I mention he got one at WW? And there was much rejoi… whimpering. And cursing. And shaking and crying. Mmmm tasty.
Bootblack class last night. I really need to get some leather dust and acetone for my kit. I also really need to kidnap his boots so I can fix them up properly. I should probably work on my own boots soon, too. They’re all scuffed up and stuff. Oh, yeah, need the sole stuff, too. Make all the boots pretty again.
New projects in my head. Making the anthology into a real ebook, with proper editing, formatting and all that. I don’t do a whole lot of editing of my posts, especially scene descriptions, but I think I can really make some decent improvements if I just put my mind to it, with a little (lot, probably) help from my editorial friends. And format it a lot better instead of squishing it all together to make it fit in the least amount of pages, let alone taking them out of the chronological order of how they was posted. I only grouped them by topic, but I really think I could do it more cleanly with a little time and effort. Make it into an ebook people would actually want to share with friends.
Also thinking about putting together some of my more useful posts into an advice/poly/bdsm beginner ebook. Again, with the editing and adding to, and maybe even just taking the ideas, and fleshing them out into good chapters. That one is going to take a lot more work, and effort, but I think it could still be fun. Not a “here’s how you should do things” book, but more of a “what did I learn from the mistakes I’ve made” book. 
I sometimes feel like my blog posts aren’t… serious enough.. journalistic enough…? I’m not sure the right word. I just go off and ramble, and rarely stay strictly on topic enough that I would consider any of the quality that could be submitted to one of the many community-focused informational sites. So, I’d like to do a bit more focused writing for this project.
Third project in my head is a creating a fantasy novel with bsdm elements. But I feel like I need to read more of what is already out there, or at least become more aware of what is already out there, so I’m not just rewriting what everyone else has already written. I’ve only ever created one novel-length manuscript, and when I think of “romance” it always feels fake and false in my head. Not to mention, I have no idea what kind of plot I want to build it around. So that project is the furthest off in my head, but hanging around with the writing group has a least put it more solidly in my head as an idea.
Not to mention trying to get a real(full time) job, so I can finally achieve financial independence. And taking the time and space to be on my own and take care of me. It’s going to be an interesting year. I intend to make it an upward swing.
Fun Scene Ideas
January 31st, 2013
I wrote a bucket list for 2013, of things that I haven’t tried yet. But what about things that I’ve done before, to one degree or another, that are just fun. I don’t mean another list of what kinks I enjoy, but fun thoughts of what to do inside those kinks. Ideas for upcoming parties, scenes or what have you. If you try anything, let me know how it goes. With WW this weekend, I’ve been thinking on and off about clothes. So, I’ll start there.
Clothing Ideas
Wearing nothing but rope. I’ve run around with rope on before. He even put rope under my clothes once. I’m not talking about a rope scene tied up and immobile, but to be dressed in only rope is fun and can be quite beautiful. Lots of different things one could do. Rope corsets, bracers, anklets, decorative boots, rope dresses of various designs, even full body wraps. And you get three “scenes” out if it – putting it on, wearing it around, and taking it off.
Liquid latex. I’ve only played with liquid latex a little bit, but it seems fun. I need to do more research on it. I know that complete body coverage is a bad thing, you have to leave space open so your skin can breathe. But it would be a fun way to dress up or decorate the body, putting it on can be half the fun. I also like the peeling of removal.
Speaking of removal. That’s something I really like no matter what I’m wearing. Having my clothing gently removed can be very sensual. Having it forcibly removed is very arousing. Having it ordered off speaks happily to my submissive side. Having it cut off is something I haven’t done yet, but sounds like a lot of fun in the same sense as the forcible removal. It isn’t always about wearing clothes, sometimes it’s about taking them off.
Rope Ideas
Mummification. Everyone knows I enjoy mummification, but how about with rope? I believe I tried it once, but I’m also pretty sure we didn’t go full-hog on it. I’m talking head to toe, wrap every inch of the body in rope. Now, naturally, as with any mummification, the top may want to play with various parts of the bottom, so you’ll have to strike a balance between fully covered and secure and the ability to move ropes out of the way to access the desires bits. This would take quite a lot of rope, but as they say, you can never have too much rope.
Rope races. I’ve talked about eeling often, and I’ve written about various scenes. But what if you have two rope bunnies? Why not tie them both in the same tie and have a race to see who gets out first? Or, if they’re aspiring rope tops themselves, have them each tie the other in turn, and see whose tie holds out the longest. If they’re not a competitive pair, you could do cooperative eeling instead. Tie them both up and set a time limit for them both to be completely untied by, rewards for how much under time they come. Predicaments are also fun to add to any of these ideas, or for extra challenge, pit the top against the eel, can the eel get out while the top keeps tying?
One rope scene. What can you do with just one rope? Try making a scene out of a single piece of rope. Use it to restrain, to gag, to whip, to tickle, to choke. Come up with as many different uses as you can think of and incorporate them all into a single scene.
Service Ideas
Be the furniture. Sometimes dungeons just don’t have all the furniture your dom needs. You can offer service by standing in. Whether it’s being a drop table for his toys, an ottoman so he can put his feet up, or a cross to restrain his current victim. There are a lot of ways you can be of service by standing in as that missing piece of furniture.
Leather care and worship. I enjoy bootblacking and licking very much, but you don’t have to stop there. All leather needs taken care of, and it can be fun to do so while your dom is wearing it. Make a scene out of it. Get him in a comfortable position and go to town.
Body service. I love brushing his hair. But it doesn’t have to end there. Showering together can be quite enjoyable, just remember you’re supposed to be getting clean… but the end, at least. Massages are also a wonderful body service to provide, and happy endings are good for everyone. Take care of your dom’s body so he can take care of you.
Electric Ideas
Electricity for everyone. It is easy to zap your bottom with electricity, and sometimes easy to get them to zap themselves. But there are a few ways to take the ease out. For me, the flyswatter and the stun gun are the way. I am far less a fan of the sudden muscle spasms, and also the sound of them both makes me twitch. So, I’m not keen on hitting myself, or anyone else with them. Sometimes the violet wand is all you need, if your bottom doesn’t like hurting other people, and insisting he or she zaps another bottom(who may or may not be fond of it), or yourself. Some subs will have a harder time zapping their top, while the more bratty among them will do so gleefully. If this is the case, maybe a tit for tat game with it.
College experiment. Do you remember those videos of psych students being paid to zap other students? Why not give it a try? Without the money, of course. Set up a scene where folk can drop in and zap the obviously suffering bottom. See how many sadists you can attract. See if you can guilt any other bottoms to take your bottom’s place. Up to you how much is theater and how much is real. Another way to do this, if you’ve got a mobile unit, order your bottom to go around inviting folk to zap him or her. Maybe have a pad they have to sign after participating so you can see how many played.
Metal bits. Something fun to do is to find new metal objects that will work for electric play. Maybe there are some things in your toybag already that you haven’t even tried with electricity. Try everything out. Find new bits of metal to play with. See how conductive those needles are, that set of sounds, those hooks or cuffs or shackles and chains. Do be a bit more careful if your are restraining your bottom in hard bondage before zapping them, it’s easier to get hurt when the restraints have no give.
Corporal Ideas
Target practice. Want to practice your aim? Grab a sharpie and draw targets on the bottom, then see if you can keep all your strikes within the target. Alternatively, give each target a point value, and keep score. This game can work for multiple tops or multiple bottoms. Depending who you have available. It can also be fun if the target is suspended, or able to turn, making it trickier to find the target you want. Blindfolds only encouraged on the targets. This has also been done with clothespins, set them up and knock them off, but once it’s off you don’t have a target anymore.
Pick three. Always one of my favorites. Have the bottoms pick the implements of their destruction. This can be a lot of fun, especially if you don’t use the tools the way they expect them to be used. As we always say in our classes, a single flogger can provide many different sensations. Make sure you give them a few surprises along the way.
Practice communicating. So, you’ve seen people count their birthday spankings – I’ve done it in multiple languages. But what about answering questions, too? How about both? Can the bottom keep track of a number, and answer questions at the same time? What happens when the number or answer is wrong or missing? Make sure the rules are stated at the beginning to increase the pressure. Communication is important – practice, practice, practice.
Other Ideas
Childhood games. There are so many games you can pervert. TENs Unit Jenga. Strip can be added to just about anything with a score, and even some without. Naked Twister is ever popular. I’ve even played a perverted cross between Pictionary and Twenty Questions, using a sharpie and a willing back. Or Tic-Tac-Toe on skin. Just have fun!
Be a lazy dom. Let your submissive do the work. It’s Simon Says with a kinky twist. Sit back and have your sub do the tying, or the attaching of clips, or the zapping or whatever. Just relax and lead the scene verbally. See what all you can get him or her to do to him or herself while you watch.
Surprise me. Put the bottom into sensory deprivation. Blindfold, earplugs/headphones, what have you. Then take them somewhere to play. If you can have them stand in the middle of a room with no furniture, even better. Just stand there vulnerable while you plot their doom, I mean gather your toys. So many sensations you can provide, that will be heightened by the sens dep and anticipation.
I’m a Bootlicker, and That’s Okay
June 7th, 2012
He came in and sat down with his dinner. Tells me he’s really done a number on his boots, with camping and bartending, they’re a mess. I glance down and nod, indeed. Go get your kit. There’s not a lot of time. Oh we have half an hour. Hey, you wanna help? The engineer has been asking for a lesson for a while now. Sure.
So, I get my kit, get some water and set down at his feet. Me on his left foot, her on his right. I begin the lesson. Gotta get new soap. I have a bare ring left in the tin and the edge is all rusted. I get the rust on my hand and onto a spare rag. Gotta keep it off the boot. We make lather and start in. Wiping off a lot more than I usually have to, for all the gunk on them. Even the soles get work this time. We get a few stray comments from the peanut gallery and he comments on how good a massage it is. Then they are clean and I’m about to grab the grease, but I look up at him first.
“Now, this is the time to lick them.” he tells her.
I explain that some people lick after the grease, but that creeps me out, especially with the black dye in mine, but my heart is beating just a little faster. Did he really want us to?
“Guess what I read?” he says to me.
“My blog.” I answer, starting to blush.
“Yep, I got all caught up before I came out tonight.”
I’m blushing harder and mumbling to her, but she hasn’t read it yet. He really means it, he really wants me to do it. She’s a bit in shock to, as he tells her to as well. And then we begin.
I’m scared and nervous and embarrassed and excited all at once. I’ve never done this before, oh I’ve wanted to. Dreamed about it. Went to classes on it. But, but, but. Just do it.
And I do, and it tastes like clean leather. And it’s his boot. His boot. Those Carolina boots I’ve been staring down at for nearly four years now in this form or the other pair. These are the steel-toes I’ve been cleaning and caring for since he bought them. I’m holding his boot and running my tongue down the leather, from toe to heel.
And I can hear him appreciating it. I can hear people around him saying how hot it is. My face is burning, so I bury it in his boot. Kissing and licking. Pressing the sole against my chest and my shoulder as I turn my head to one side then the other. He says it’s a mix of warmth and pressure, and I’m glad he can feel it. I glance occasionally over at her and she is just as happily involved as I am.
So happy, and excited. Arousal has replaced all fear and is chasing embarrassment into a corner. I’m gasping against his boot, kissing and catching my breath. Enjoying the sensation of the tread against my chest. Loving the taste and feel and smell of the leather. I don’t want to stop,
I can hear them getting ready for class. We’ll have to stop then, we are far too distracting and distracted. Not yet, please not yet. I ignore the sounds and keep licking.
The arch of the boot is my favorite, a sensitive spot on my own foot, but hard to get to. I remember what Bootpig said about speaking to the person through bootlicking. I thought I understood it then, watching. But I really understand it now. I pour my love, gratitude and yes, arousal, out my tongue and onto his boot. And it is amazing. I never thought it would feel like this.
And I’m glad the engineer is on the other boot. There wouldn’t have been time for this if I’d had to do both. And while we are separate in our licking, together, we are making him happy.
When class does finally start, I have no idea how long we were licking, but we come up grinning like mad, and curl up, arms around his legs, happy with our first taste of bootlicking.
What I Like and Why
May 31st, 2012
So, let’s say someone new came up to me and asked, “Hey Imp, what do you like to do? And could you tell me why? What about those things interests you?” How would I respond, at this point in my life?
Hey, random person. Welcome to the community. I like to do a lot of different things, for a lot of different reasons.
Well, Imp, that’s not very helpful, could you be more specific?
Sure, random. I like bondage, sensation, deprivation, fear, pain, suspension, sexuality, dressing up, fire, electricity, corporal punishment, erotica, mind fucks, new experiences, serving, bootblacking, learning, teaching, submission, power exchange, biting, sucking, cuddling, challenges, sub space, and a whole host of other things.
Wow, Imp, that’s a lot. Could you tell me about all those different things?
Sure, random, let’s start at the top.
Bondage. I love bondage. Always have, always will. Cuffs, shackles, stocks, straitjackets, rope, saran wrap, or just mental. I love it all. But some for different reasons than others.
Cuffs, shackles and stocks. These are the stuff of erotic fantasies for me. Prisoner fantasies, slave fantasies, and the like. These are things for “bad girls” and as such, turn me on to that mindset. They are solid and secure and sometimes painful. They are a solid reminder that I am in bondage to the one who holds the key. I am at his mercy until he sets me free.
Straitjackets and saran wrap or mummification. These are the all encompassing, all enclosing, complete restriction of movement. They can be comforting, a big huge hug from the one who put me in it. A place to sink into myself with the outside kept at bay. Or they can be complete vulnerability. I am trapped, only allowed that which he gives me. Whether that’s simply air or pleasure. Only free when he allows it. And oh so helpless and available to whatever he wants to do. An excellent power exchange.
Rope. Glorious rope. I didn’t know how much I would love rope until it was used on me. I didn’t know I would fall in love until I first smelled hemp, and then he suspended me. And I was done. Forever a rope slut. Rope is a multitool. It can be used for sensation, for decoration, for bondage, for suspension, for pain, for pleasure, for service, and if you have enough, even for mummification. Rope makes me incredibly happy. The bite of the rough natural fibers on my skin. The taking of my power bit by bit as each limb is confined. The sense of freedom when I am held in its complete thrall.
Sensation and pain. So many different types of sensation. Floggers, whips, paddles, canes, drumsticks, clamps, clips, clothespins, slapping, spanking, body punching, kicking, biting, pinching, pressure points, scratching, knives, violet wands, stun guns, TENs, massage, wax. I’m sure I’m forgetting some.
Corporal punishment. Spanking, floggers, whips, paddles, canes, punching, kicking and drumming, all excellent examples. Let’s start with rhythmic fun. Floggers, canes, and drumming can all be used to beat someone to music, to a rhythm. This can take us both into space. Feeling connected as one as we flow and move with the same beat. Relaxing and soothing, it can also send me into the most incredible high. Spanking and paddles, also belts, are in the fantasy category for me. They send me into that “bad girl” headspace that I find so arousing. Pain space. This is where whips, body punching and kicking come in. They don’t fit in the first two categories for me, but if I want intense sensation for the purpose of going into pain space, they are added to the list of all these other tools. Pain space, for me, is a place where I fall into the pain, and enjoy both the pain and connection to the one causing it. Catharsis is another part of corporal for me. All these tools can be used to cause me such intense sensation that I am pushed through pain space into an emotional release.
Body manipulation. While I’m talking about spaces, and body punching and kicking. Let me go quickly to pressure points, biting, pinching and massage. These, for me, are direct, personal intense sensations. Biting goes into arousing fantasy, vampires and the like. Pressure points and pinching and focused intensity. He is close up, exploring my body and reactions. Some of them are painful, some of them are pleasurable. But they all make me want to kiss his hands afterward. I like the closeness, I like the personal intensity. The direct energy exchange. Massage has this, too. The closeness, the energy. It also has the element of service that I enjoy when I’m giving it. Or when I’m receiving, it makes me feel cared for and appreciated.
Sexuality. We are sexual beings. And we all express our sexuality in different ways with different people. Depending on my mood and my partner, I enjoy kissing, hugging, cuddling, nibbling, licking, orgasm control, masturbation, oral and sex. Physical connection, intimate connection, can be soothing, energizing, or just plain crazy fun.
Deprivation. On the opposite end of the physical, is the lack of input. Sensory deprivation. Sensory deprivation makes me depend on whatever I’m left with. I sink into my body away from the senses that were taken away and if I have anything left, all focus goes to that. If it has all ben removed or reduced, I’m often able to just float away deep inside. It’s incredibly relaxing. And can also be used to intensify whatever sense is left. Touch becomes so much more intense when you cannot see, hear, or smell. You are focused on the only thing you have left to sense the world around you. Pain in such a state is so much more intense for me.
Clips, clamps and clothespins. I’m not even sure how to categorize those. Pinchy things, I guess. These can be great fun and are usually a test in endurance. Last night, he showed up with two bags. One of 50 teeny tiny clothespins, and one of 24 two inch long clothespins. He decided our faces were his canvas, and went back and forth between all three of us, putting clothespins all over. It was crazy and intense and fun. I had to walk in place and keep touching him to ground, so I would keep breathing properly. These are an interesting category. They are intense sensation, and it just ramps up as you go along, without even having to do anything. And when you’re done, the fun isn’t over. You still have to take all those little things off. Which hurts a heck of a lot more in an instant than they have the whole time they’ve been on. This is why zippers are such great fun. Taking a whole line of them all off at once, can send me into such a great pain space high. This is one time when orgasms are especially appreciated for me, as a way to channel the energy created.
Electricity. Ah, electrical energy. In this category we have TENs, violet wands, electric flyswatters, and stun guns. TENs is a lot of fun. It can be therapeutic to tense or sore muscles. It can be silly giving over of control. It can be used to make Jenga a hilarious game. And it can be used to cause intense sensations and pain. Violet wands are one of the few things I top, for the crew. Anywhere for gentle vibrations of a massage, to sharp jolts of pain. Happy tickling sensations, to skin burning zaps. So versatile and fun. Electric flyswatters and stun guns are the next step up. Sharp, painful sparks when there’s a gap. Muscle jolting when held tight to the skin. For me, just the noise of these sends fear shooting through my body. Sends adrenaline racing, and depending on what he’s threatening, can drive me straight to tears. Delicious.
Fire is another of those adrenaline rushes. Someone is lighting you on fire FFS. It’s a nice warming sensation, which can also be slightly painful, but the fire is generally gone before the pain really starts. I’m not into burning/branding of the skin. But the fear. The primal fear response to being light on fire, is intoxicating. It brings my focus in to just that. Nothing else matters when you’re on fire. Then there’s sparks. Not electrical sparks, those don’t bother me. Fire sparks. A lighter, a sparkler, a log popping in the fire. Terror. Pure terror for me. This will bring me to tears faster than a stun gun, if I’m forced to be close for more than a couple sparks.
Fear. Oh yeah, fear. Sparks, needles, snakes. Fire, stun guns, flyswatters, gags, being in pain and helpless and abandoned. Fear is delicious. Adrenaline rushes are great. Phobias will bring me to tears and panic and breaking points. So they are dangerous to play with, but so far, have all gone well. Being brought to the point of panic, and then pulled right back to keep going can be an amazing power exchange, as well.
Power exchange. Submission, serving, mind fucks. All the mental stuff. To take me out of my head, to give up control. To take care of him and his boots. To dress up for him. To just simply be for him. To challenge myself. To be forced to think and use my brain. To be turned around so hard and fast that I don’t know where I am. To be scared and aroused and dropped all through the power of his voice. So many different head spaces and power exchanges. It can be absolutely amazing.
New experiences. Learning something new. Teaching someone something new. Trying something new. Helping someone else try something for the first time. There’s nothing like it. The joy, the excitement, the energy of new is unique and incredible.
And then there’s this. There’s writing about it. I love writing about it. Writing erotica about it, blog posts about it, journal entries about it. Sharing, processing, explaining. Teaching, learning. Writing it down gets it out of my head and into a place where I can look at it. Where I can share it with others. Where I can learn about myself and really see my own thoughts and reactions. Down on paper or screen, it’s not all jumbled up anymore. It’s clear and it’s wonderful. I hope you all think so, too.
Lifetime of Learning
May 24th, 2012
He’s going away for the long weekend, and may not even be home for an extra day after that. So, I was thinking, what can I do while he’s gone? I’ll be spending some of that time with hubby, but not all of it, he still has his girl and friends to take care of. Sometimes I want to ask him “What can I do for you while you’re away?” but most of my service for him is in person stuff. So figure I should come up with my own things. Then I remembered the GRUE and all those people teaching their passions. And I realized what was odd to me, I didn’t go to the classes, except bootblacking. Was there nothing there that interested me? Nothing I wanted to learn? I don’t even know what all the classes were, so intent was I upon my purpose, so I’m going to say no, it was just I had other things in mind. But that leads me to my point. What do I want to learn?
Heading into the GRUE, I had some rope questions I wanted answered. How to tie thin hair? How to tie a Solomon bar cuff? How in the world all these random knots I learned can actually be used in bondage, as opposed to rock climbing/sailing? So, that’s a place to start. One of the hair tie suggestions at the GRUE was hemostats in the hair, and then tie to those. Others I’ve seen are tie into buns, or behind ponytail wraps. The Solomon bar has lots of good examples online, I just need to practice. And get the correct length ropes to do the cuffs with (11′ and 6′ I think). The knots? Well, that’s something to research.
But what else? What haven’t I tried that I want to? What scares me? What intrigues me? What do I not understand? What have we had a class on that I still want to do? What haven’t we had a class on yet? There is so much out there, I know there will always be more to learn. (And I have just learned that Fetlife fetish lists are a little annoying to edit if it’s not on the bulk list.) So, research project number two for this weekend: a curious about fetish list, with any necessary research on the hows and whats, with notations on the type of interest: scary, intriguing, confused, or aroused.
Brain just ran off in an odd direction. If you’re a regular reader, you know that an interrogation scene is one of those someday dreams I have. But I was just thinking about Strangeland, and the thought occurred to me: What’s worse than an interrogation scene – a torture scene. It’s like an interrogation, but there is no way to end it. They aren’t after anything, there’s nothing you can give them to make them stop. You can’t give the right answer, or tell them the secret, they are just doing it because they enjoy it. They might have some end in mind, or a set of things they want to do, but you never know. And none of it is being done for your enjoyment, only theirs. That’s the biggest kicker, I think.
Anyway. So, learning and trying new things. I think that would be a good way to spend my weekend, finding out about all there is yet to learn and try and do. And maybe also make a list of all the things I already enjoy and why. I like lists, but I like writing even more.
My Passion
May 21st, 2012
Today, I want you to do whatever is your passion. That was the start of the GRUE this weekend. People were invited to put their passion, in the form of a class title up on the wall, and to lead classes all day to teach/discuss their passions. I’d had a few ideas to put up on the wall until that was said, then I had nothing. Instead, I went and put up his passion instead, he wanted to fly people, and to teach his favorite tie. So, that’s what we did.
He taught the drum tie, with me assisting. It was a big class, so I went around and helped those who were having trouble. I pointed out where they had gone the wrong way, or I showed them what to do next when they got lost. I helped with the tricky knots. It was great, and he often praised or thanked me for it. Once folk were tied, I helped guide their heads off the ground and back down again. In between, I got to watch them Fly.
Oh, did they fly! So many new faces, so many first times. Such joy and amazement. And him, bouncing and running and grinning so wide. The onlookers staring and laughing, all of us enjoying the moment and the energy. And when they came down, and I cradled their heads in my lap. They were still glowing so brightly. It was incredible.
And he didn’t stop. He helped put up everyone from the class that wanted to go up. And then he kept going. People kept coming and asking to go up. He had quite the queue. We didn’t even get halfway through it. All day he kept going. And people came by to learn, as well. He taught the tie at least three more times throughout the day.
I was so full of energy, I couldn’t stay still. Often, when he was tying, I would wander off. I wandered off to a bootblack class for a bit. Talking with one of the bootblacks that I learned with, and discussing technique and products with the others that showed up. I cut out halfway through to see if he needed help when I saw him lowering someone, but her boy was catching her. He did have me run out for his gloves then. I went back to bootblacking after that for more discussion. I learned a lot about high polish boots, that being the side I don’t work with at all right now.
I wandered in and out of a lot of other demo classes. Fire, paddles, floggers, cigars, another couple suspension classes. But never for very long. I was curious, but not focused on them. I wanted to keep an eye on everything going on, but I kept coming back to him. Kept checking in. Bringing him water, making his sandwich after another friend insisted on getting us both food. Fetching things from the truck. Cleaning up the ropes between scenes. Keeping track of the queue. Basking in the energy each and every suspension created.
People kept asking if I was having fun. Some concerned that I wasn’t getting suspended. I told every single one of them yes. I was having a great time. Didn’t they See the huge grin on that girl’s face? Didn’t they see how awesome a time everyone was having? It was so great to see so many people have their first experience flying. I had an amazing day.
At the closing circle, my emotions were on a rollercoaster. I was so very near to tears then calm then up near tears again, all joy, full with the energy of that room full of people. Leaning against him, his arms around me. When he spoke up, he said how great a support I had been to him all day. Several people thanked him for his passion. I couldn’t speak, afraid I would cry and be unintelligible. We went to dinner, buzzing about the day, chattering, happy. It was a great day. I’m so glad I decided to go.
I began to wonder though, as he talked about having done his passion all day. What had I done? What was my passion? Had I fulfilled my purpose at the GRUE? Had I followed the rule? I fluttered around all day. Did that mean I didn’t have a passion?
No. No, I did indeed fulfill the purpose of the GRUE. I lived my passion. I spent the entire day serving him. Even my fluttering. To learn more about bootblacking. To keep an eye on who was using the other point. To check on everyone around and see what was happening and that everyone was happy and safe. To help him teach. To help him suspend new people. To share his joy and theirs. I spent the day fulfilling my passion of service to him. And it was wonderful.
Healthy, Happy Submission
March 19th, 2012
Very late posting, sorry about that. I was busy and sleepy the last few days. And well, three posts the previous week, I hoped would tide you over until I got down to work. Several things running around in my head today. Might get a couple posts again.
I’m trying to get myself back on track. Getting back into my exercise and meditation routine, this time with music to keep me going. Music without words so I don’t get distracted. I’m going to do a bit of research on meditation as well. I want to make this a sustainable, healthy habit. Not get stuck in my head running circles like I did last time. That wasn’t the intent and I want to do better now.
Working on eating better as well. I’ve been slacking in my own shopping, and while I do enjoy eating regular meals with him and with hubby, I have to at least eat more alkaline on my own. Healthier imp means happier imp means better able to do relationship work means healthier and happier relationships. Everyone wins.
The engineer asked me a good question the other night that I want to ramble about. She asked my why submissives get such joy and fulfillment out of kneeling and/or sitting at their dom’s feet. I answered her saying, it gives me a feeling of being in my place, of being below and looking up to him. So, where does this come from? Old systems of government where you knelt to your sovereign? Slaves kneeling before masters? It has always been a symbol of a power exchange. The one kneeling giving up power to or acknowledging the power of the one standing or sitting above them.
My mind wanders now, to kneeling for him. As a symbol of the power I give to him. Even when he is not there, in front of me. It was the reason, originally. To think of him and what we had, when he wasn’t there. I warped and twisted it as things got difficult. Used it as time to dwell instead of internally reconnect. I get so lost inside my own head sometimes, but that was not a healthy way to explore it. Kneeling is about the exchange between us, not about the problems or the confusion or even about communication. It is a symbol of my submission to him, given freely.
I have gotten a lot of joy from blacking his boots. I put my kit together specifically for his boots, with just a extra tin of polish just in case. I found a fun box for it at work, and soon the engineer will be letting me borrow a headlamp so I can do better in the dark club. My boots this Saturday and the angles I was at even allowed me to remain kneeling the entire time, which I haven’t managed often lately. That made me extremely happy. As did his playful rocking of his boots on my thighs that caused quite delicious pain. I still have a couple happy marks from it.
Through all the ups and downs, and busy times, and changes in schedules, this has been one of the constants. Taking care of his boots has been one way I can serve him regularly. It is something I can do at any of the venues the crew gets together at and it is something that is regularly needed. And I can do it while he works, observes or holds other conversations.
I am very grateful that I found bootblacking and that our local title holder was an open resource to me. She helped me and taught me when I first started out, and showed me how happy I could make him with such a simple service. As well as the joy I could get out of it. I have been called a baby bootblack, but really, it is more personal than that, I am his baby bootblack. And it makes me very happy.
Wonderful Night
March 8th, 2012
I may want tears tonight.
I smiled back at him, warmth filling me at the thought. I’d been aching for that, and we were both finally in a place where it would be healthy to go there. His boots needed attention, too. Having just gotten the soles replaced on both pairs. I hadn’t blacked the steel toed ones in a while. It was going to be a good night.
Arrive, hugs and snuggles. His boot toes are certainly dirty. The puppy is too rambunctious though, we head downstairs. My kit in hand, he sets up a chair in the back corner in a decent pool of light. Down onto the cold cement I go, think skirt barely any protection. Set out the kit, go get water. He gets distracted by a self-suspension and goes to offer advice and assistance. I wait patiently, preparing myself to serve him.
He returns and we roll up his pant legs. I unlace his boots, draping the waxed strings over my neck, bight towards the respective boot. Lather created while I waited, I head for the right boot, pulling it up onto my thigh. Snip a few strings. Saddle soap, brush, toothbrush and fingers, working into the soft leather. Switch. Left boot on right thigh. It feels good to have them in my hands again. Clean it up and snip a more strings. Switch. I have to sit at this point. Bare feet on cement with the added weight of his leg is doing no good for my feet. Black gold for the shine. Fingertips working every inch. The class has started behind me at some point, I’m listening, but the boots hold my focus. Switch. More black gold and work into the leather. China marker and I bring out the sole lacing, bright white beneath the gleaming black leather. Quick run with a cloth and done. Pack up and sit to his right. Arms around his leg, head on his knee for the rest of class. The engineer girlfriend on his left. He pets and strokes, and squeezes our shoulder knots as we listen and talk about violet wands.
Class over, I am responsible for a few minutes, organizing for the weekend. He warms up on the wall and then smiles over at me. Ready to go? Yes. I put aside my phone and glasses, toss my shirt to the floor below them and walk to the cross. Taking off my bra, I drop it against the wall and hug the beams.
He starts off with the short, soft ones, but they still sting a little with the power he uses. The music isn’t playing yet, he’s got mp3s playing in his ears, but I don’t know what song. I close my eyes and concentrate on the strikes. Catching his rhythm, I bob my head with the hits. The room is full of conversation, but I focus in on us. On the cross, on the floggers, the energy between us. The leather feels so good on my back. His hands beat into the muscles, fingers drag over the heated skin.
He rides the waves of the music in his ears. The strikes come harder and faster, bringing moans then screams. I bounce and stamp, my heel begins to tap with the beat. I am grateful for the mobility of the cross. I shake it and pull on it. We ride the wave back down. His hand in my hair, he pulls me off the cross and down to my knees. My hands on my thighs, I breathe and wait.
He pulls me up again. Stingy floggers, and I scream. Jumping and bobbing and writing against the cross. Falling deep into space. Growling with determination. I can feel the attention some of my screaming is drawing. I smirk, but it is swallowed by another scream. He pauses whenever I jump around. Waiting for me to come back to him. I hear the engineer beating the wall beside me. I know it is her, though I don’t look. Her strikes familiar. I feel his hands again, sending shivers through my body.
Now there are mop floggers. More solid hits. Hard, throbbing against the cross. I hear music, but it isn’t what he’s listening to, so it doesn’t matter. The mops beat into me and he goes faster. Six count and my head can’t keep up, it starts rolling as the flogs roll over my back. The scream builds low in my belly until it bursts free.
His hand in my hair, pulling me up. Your skin is breaking, we’re going to have to stop soon. How are you? I can only smile. I think I manage Good. Do I need to put you in the corner? I nod. He puts me back down. I nearly cry. My body betrays me.
He strikes again and I jump. Oh, we’re starting again, he grins. I nod and he hits. Hard and stingy. I scream and writhe. I hear the engineer beside me, singing. Some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abuse. I smile through my screams. Her voice a perfect compliment to the end of our scene. My head bobbing with the song as I scream and shake the cross. I hit my knee once and bounce quickly back up. I hear him start to count with his strikes. 1. Scream. 2. Scream. 3. I drop, but not to my knees, hanging from the cross momentarily in orgasmic release. I pull myself back up. And he finishes off with a few more strikes.
Then his hand is in my hair again, pulling me away from the cross. Around other people and then forcing me down to my knees sheltered by some spanking benches. Head down, eyes tightly closed, hands out. I’m too deep in space to be touched. I can hear everything around me, but it doesn’t matter. The energy is all I care about. The floating, happy, gasping, shaking wonderfulness inside me.
Slowly, I float back down into my body. The sounds around me start to invade. I hear him start in on the engineer. The people beside me talking about blow jobs. Noise and cold air. I’m not ready yet. I ignore it for a little longer, my eyes still heavy.
I’m numb from the knee down before I’m ready to open my eyes. I look around. Who are these people next to me? I still don’t know. He flips a flogger out of his grip and we smile. But I’m awake now, time to move. I don’t want to continue listening to the conversation beside me. I drag myself up onto unfeeling feet and make my way to my things. Glasses on, shirt wrapped around me, text messages checked.
I head over to the bishop’s chair to perch and watch the rest of their scene. She stands still. I am amazed and a little confused. Her happy place, she’ll later explain. But then she starts reacting. Screaming and curling up against the cross. He grins with glee, and goes after sharper toys, even the dragon tail, though he only slaps with it, doesn’t snap. She curses and screams until he is done. Then he wraps her up against his chest.
A few minutes and then calls me over to join them. Snuggling together by the cross, until we’re ready to move. I scoop up my bra and we head upstairs. The couch is taken, but he heads for the big chair and we sit at his feet again, heads on his knees. After awhile the couch is free and we pile on in. Snuggled against his chest and shoulders, arms and legs entwined. Relaxing together until it is time to go.
My shoulders are wet and tacky, a layer of skin is gone, but they only sting a bit, not hurt. The next day they’ll be cold. A new and confusing sensation. Hers are quite tender and it makes me want to poke them when I hug her good night. We head our separate ways with hugs and kisses. It has been a wonderful night for us all.
Service, Boot Licking and Throat Grabbing
September 15th, 2011
I’ve got a few other thoughts floating in my head I’d like to share this week. First, thoughts from two of the classes I took this past weekend. And then an answer I gave to toy after she read my Monday reflection.
The thoughts from Bootpig’s service class were many. First, you have to do what they ask before you can add to it or improve it. Second, it isn’t service if they don’t want it. Third, between A and F, there are a whole lot of other letters. And regardless of how well I do something, he will still love me. Fourth, ask and keep track. If I want to do something for him, ask if he wants it, and take no for an answer. But if he says yes, or if there are things he wants/likes, keep track and remember to do them.
In her bootblacking class, I learned about boot licking. I went into the class, looking for technical pointers, but that’s not what she wanted to talk about. She talked about the different between boot licking and boot worship, and I found that the idea of conveying a nonverbal message or emotion through boot licking spoke to my heart. I only black his boots. I love him and want to please him, and have always enjoyed kneeling at or on his boots. So I enjoy taking care of them. The idea of licking them with emotional intent makes more sense to me than just ritually licking them, or licking them because it arouses something in me. She did give me advice about when to lick them (before putting on the black grease which would stain my tongue), for which I am also grateful.
Toy asked my why his grabbing my throat stopped the panic. I explained it to her thus: Grabbing my throat makes me stop. Full stop. It used to be a hard limit with everyone because sideways motion can easily put my windpipe out of place. Then it became fear play – used carefully by the other. Then he started using it to hold me down when we slept together, and I’d get all gaspy with fear, but then arousal and comfort was added into the mix. So, grabbing me by the throat still makes me stop, all focus goes to that hand on my throat in fear, and then it brings arousal and comfort.
Negotiation Win
August 21st, 2011
It was the night. Finally time to fulfill our bargain for a 50 cent pair of scissors. Time to face the music and dance, literally. Bag packed, ready to go. He calls, needs help with the gear. We get it all loaded and head to the club. Wait for the owner and then lug it up and set the stages. The instigator is all bouncy and excited, she says she’s going to explode. Casting about, we finally decide everything is ready and drag toy off to the bathroom to change for the evening.
We can’t remember if there was any exact wording on the shirts, so we do our best with buttons, bras and tying. My skirt is even shorter than I remember. Instigator helps us both with our hair, pig tails for me, hello kitty barrettes for toy. Fidgeting and fussing, and we’re ready to go. Out the door and into the back corner where he sits with hubby, to show off our outfits and drop our bags. The grin in his face matches the light in his eyes as we stand before him. And only intensifies as he has us each turn and bend over to check for appropriate skirt length. Approval is granted and then the fire class begins and we gather to listen.
Class comes to a close, and our performance is announced, massage tables are cleared and instigator’s laptop is set up at the edge of the stage. I drag toy up as he explains what is happening to the curious crowd. There are a lot more unfamiliar faces than I expected, but I’m not really looking at them. Finally, it is ready, we take our places and press play.
The song is ridiculous. Japanese that toy and I have barely learned to pronounce about falling in love and seeing the world in a whole new way. We have macarana-esque parts, and kick lines and spins and air guitars. Everyone is laughing and his smile is huge. I try to look up from the screen when I can, but I’m terrified and don’t manage it nearly as much as I wanted to. But we got through the whole thing, and all fell down together at the end. Then curled up into a cuddle pile around toy, laughing our heads off. I don’t even know if they clapped.
Once we pulled ourselves together, we gathered our things for the bootblack competition. Now, earlier in the evening, instigator had asked if she could borrow my china marker for this, and I, feeling snarky for having to sing and dance, told her, but it’s a competition, aren’t you prepared? To which she replied did I want one boot to not look as good as the other? And I, feeling more snarky, said, don’t worry, I’ll fix it. So, still teasing a bit, we find a quiet space in the back to set up our supplies, turning a couch so the light is better, if not great.
He finished his conversations and came back with toy. Sitting down, he offered us each a foot and pulled toy down next to him for his entertainment while we worked. I’m not sure I’m a real bootblack, I just love his boots. Instigator’s far more inclined to clean up any boots that pass her way with a polite request for service. So we set in, scrubbing and rubbing. I start noticing some strings, but my scissors were broken. Instigator is burning the strings off her boot with a lighter. Hm. Hey, can you do that on this boot and you can use my china marker? She agrees, I can’t even just ask to borrow it, I’m phobic of sparks. She has a little extra fun making it spark to watch me twitch, burns her thumb and my arm on the hot metal as we are working in very close quarters. Then we oil and shine and whiten. Making them as shiny as we can for an oil tanned boot. Re-laced and done, he sets off to the front room for judging with toy, leaving us to clean up and drink some water toy has brought.
Returning a short while later, he says the reviews are mixed. Mine is a better shine, but speckled. Hers is more consistent, but duller and there are some buff lines in it. Toy just can’t decide who won and lost, so we give it up as a tie, both wishing we’d had better light.
Next up, massage, and there’s just the thing, a king-sized padded table nearby. Toy fetches her massage lotion and he drops his shirt and lays down. We surround him, them on his back and me on his legs. Their hands are stronger and his back is always the most knotted. In silence, we put all our focus on him, working his back, neck, legs and arms, circling around him, doing our best to pull out his stress. He turns over and we continue, upper chest, shoulders, arms, hands and legs. About the time my hands have given out completely, he looks up and smiles
Now it’s his turn to have fun. He grabs me in one hand, toy in the other, and pins instigator with his legs. I lose track of what is happening to toy at this point and only hear her moans and whimpers and Thank you, Sirs. Instigator is pinned by one leg and the other is being used to kick, poke and prod her. A boot-spanking, if you will. Me, he has by the throat to start, eyes closed, one of my hands clutching his arm and I gasp and squirm in his grip. He holds me close, turning to count occasionally, sending me spiraling into orgasm. Kisses and I love you were interspersed with numbers, the moans of the others, and the sound of his boot hitting flesh. He moved his grip to my hair, less of a fear reaction, rocketing up arousal and sensation. Still the round robin of pleasure, he raises me up to see his boot on instigator’s throat. Beautiful.
There was a moment, his grip maybe slackened or I opened my eyes a little too wide. I saw what was happening to the others, and I had a shot of envy for the physicality of what he was doing to them. Before I could process it much further than that, his hand tightened in my hair, and he counted to three. I buried my face in the mat and orgasmed through tears. When I came up again, the energy and reality of the moment reclaimed me, and the negative feeling was gone. I was in his grip, against his body, two of my best friends were sharing in this wonderful scene of pleasure, pain and orgasms with a man we all love in our own way. Just incredible.
I loved the sounds. The slap of his boot, the screams and moans and gasps, the words from his lips: I love you, 1-2-3, fucking your brainto go, taunting instigator as he found new places for his boot . The sound of his breathing as he took a moment for himself. Toy’s thanks.
We cuddled up together, me, instigator, him and toy. All lined up and snuggling. Still occasionally handing out orgasms, playing with programming, appreciating all that we had. Not someplace I ever really pictured myself ending up, but it was just right in that moment. The four of us together.
Time to rejoin the rest of the party. We gathered our stuff and headed back out to the front room. Put away our gear and gathered around in the electric area. His boots are “dirty” from kicking instigator. She offers to lick them clean again and starts to work. Toy and I look on, not really boot lickers ourselves. Then he grins and points me to the nearby violet wand. A straight rod and turned on. I hand it to him and he zaps her a few times, insisting she keep working. Tormenting her until he gets a better idea. Handing me back the wand, I’m to shock her at his direction. She stays more focused on his boots when the rod is coming from the other direction, but it’s still fun to make her jump.
Boots shinier. What else haven’t we done from the agreement? Bondage. He takes instigator’s tie and secures her hands, tormenting her with one hand and holding her other until he finally hands the tie off to me, wanting both hands free. He puts a mask over her head and we are all impressed that it fits over her hair. Then moving me around the wall to hold her hands above her head so he can return to using his boots. His tool of choice on her for the evening. He asks if anyone wants to take her place? Absolutely, I reply, unable to see what exactly he’s doing, but not really caring, her moans are delicious. He finishes her off, and sets her free after she starts squirming her hands as though the tie has become uncomfortable.
Then orders me down on his boot. It’s been a long time since we’ve done that. I kneel on his boot and he goes to work, rubbing and kicking as I moan gasp and writhe, focusing on staying on my knees with hands on my thighs. Alright, time for your favorite part, you have permission to get yourself off on my boot. Thank you, Sir. I ride the boot more intentionally now, moaning and arching into an orgasm. One more. He moves with me a little and I curl up, my head against his leg as another orgasm washes over me.
We are interrupted then, and he has to go move his truck. I sink into my position. Knees wide, hands on thighs, palms up, back straight, head down, eyes closed. Calm, satiated, joyful. I sink hard. I’m aware of instigator beside me, and only barely of toy curled up on her lap. He is only gone for a few minutes, but he doesn’t come right back. I hear his voice throughout the room. I sneak glances beside me, I can still feel instigator, but I want to see that toy is still there, too. His keys jingle louder and he returns, standing in front of me, a single kick to the crotch and I’m awake. How are you feeling? Aside from the eyelets digging into my left foot, I am very good. He motions me up and we all settle in, curled up and relaxing waiting for the club night to end.