Rope, Beatings, and Service

February 10th, 2017

I had a really nice time at WW last weekend. I got to hang out with many members of my chosen family, and one even offered me a bed, so I didn’t have to drive home in the middle of the nights. It was fun to hang out and snuggle and go to classes together.  I even got to do some rope with him when we went to afternoon classes, including one very intense, randomly generated groundwork tie.

I had two scenes over the weekend, one each night. One a reprise of a last year’s scene with an old friend. This time with more pressure points than body drumming, but a good mix of both. He pulled much writhing and many squeals of pleasureful pain out of me with pushing his nails into points on my calves and thighs.

The other, with him, our usual, extremely enjoyable flogging, beating, whipping mixture. Pounding my back to the beat of the music. Spinning me round for whip kisses while he looks into my eyes. And a good few hard shots with a leather cock to lay some nice defined bruising on my thighs. I even asked for a light dragon tail tip cool down to settle me back to earth, since there wasn’t enough room for the full whip. Then we went to the rope room to sit and chill while I rested my head on his thigh and he occasionally stroked my hair. We saw many beautiful rope scenes while we relaxed together.

There was also service throughout the weekend. Fetching drinks and chocolate, monitoring his space when he flogged others, helping with tools and clean-up, watching his bags when needed. I also did a little bootblacking for the friend who scened with me. He had shiny boots, so I actually got to use polish on real leather boots that weren’t my own.

One of the classes I went to in the morning, before he arrived, was on Service, given by Mollena. It was a really fun, engaging, and educational class. She spoke not only about giving service gracefully, but receiving it gracefully, as well. She talked about how service is part of a power Exchange – heavy emphasis on the exchange. If you, as a service giver, are not getting anything from the one receiving service, then it is not an Exchange. There are many ways to create this exchange, and it’s important to figure out what you need, not just what you can give.

Sometimes what you are getting is the attention of the person you are serving. She gave a great in-class example. She asked someone in the back for a glass of water, and while they got it, she went on talking. When the woman handed her the water. She then looked right at her and asked for another, and then paid full attention to the woman the entire time she went and came back with the glass of water. Holding her with her eyes when the woman gave her the water and as she thanked her for it. The entire class felt the difference.

She also talked about being your True Self. How some of her early service relationships/trainers had her providing service that she was unfit for or uninterested in providing. She told some really horrible stories about the results of that service. She advocates for deciding for yourself what service you have to offer, and finding the person who wishes to receive that service. Being a slave, she told us, isn’t about becoming what someone else wants you to be, but about being yourself and connecting with those whose needs match what you can offer them.

Let’s not forget the Prime Directive either, which I have talked about here in other words: “It is the primary responsibility of the slave to protect the master’s property at all times, up to and including protecting the property from their master.” This is not only about speaking up for yourself, and making sure that you are being taken care of, but it is also about self care. That is one thing I struggle with every day.

It was an excellent class, and I still have more processing to do on it.

All in all, it was a very good weekend.

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“You Are Loved and Desired”

November 24th, 2016

He does a very good job of making me feel loved. When he sent me the above message today, I nearly cried. But let’s be honest, I cry so very easily, especially in stressful times. He always makes me feel loved and appreciated. Desired, however, is a harder one. Do I know that he enjoys playing with me? Yes. Do I know he enjoys my company? Yes. Do I know he enjoys both my suffering and my service? Yes. Do I often feel desired by him? No?

Desired is a loaded word, for me, I guess.  English Oxford Living Dictionary defines it as: 1) A strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing for something to happen, 2) strong sexual feeling or appetite. My overthinking, self-judgmental brain tends to focus on the latter of these definitions, and as he and I have a “non-romantic/sexual” relationship, desire is not a word I often use for his feelings for me. I desire him in this way, always have, always will, but I put it on hold and keep it at bay, to keep expectations managed and balanced. Over the years, it has wobbled up and down, depending on what’s going on, and his testing various waters. But it tends to return to this balance.

Today, he sent me that message. Tonight, after his initial plans were dashed by unexpected class set-up, he got me aside for a flogging.

Leather mop warm-ups. Good and steady, get me bobbing and swaying, into the zone. Eyes closed, just feeling it, and him. Fingertips make me shiver. Then off to get the big deer flogger, gods, I’ve missed that. But solid thumps. Heavy sounding thwacks. Pounding me into the wall. Knocking groans out of my chest. Then snaps. Sting. Not the whip, not the tips, heavier. Squeals of pain. I have a vague notion, but it’s not until he lays it over my arms in front of me that I’m sure it’s the dragon tail. A few more heavy hits, and then the deer flogger is over my arms, as well.

He bring up the rubber mops. Ready for this? It’s been a long time. Too long. Let’s find out. Surprisingly, I am. They feel good, heavy, solid. Slamming out more groans, eyes squeezed shut makes balance occasionally hard, but keeps me deep. Tipping Florentine brings out more squeals, then heavy, deep double blows, rock me into the wall. He counts me up to orgasm a few times. Thank you, Sir! Do you feel desired? He asks between them. Yes, Sir. And we go right back into it. I last a lot longer than I expect to, though we both know our old endurance challenge is probably a bad idea. It feels so good, slamming my back, pulling out screams with the tips, groaning with the big hits. I know he lifted me by the hair at one point, but I can’t even place where that was. Finger tips on hot flesh send me gasping. He spanks me to another counted orgasm as we finish up. Kisses and hugs and thank you. He grabs my back a few more times in the evening, even another counted orgasm before we’re through. A very nice Thanksgiving night.

That’s what desire means for us, between us. A different kind of energy – the smack of flogger on flesh, the screams and groans, the rocking and tapping and swinging. The pushing back and forth of our energy. The gleam in his eye as a crumple against the wall, squealing at the lash. The grin on his face when I pop back up and present my back again, and again. The one, two, three…. Thank you, Sir. The touch of fingertips on burning skin, and the rough grab and squeeze to get one more squeal.

I forget that sometimes, when I let my brain run on. It is still very programmed with societal norms. There are things I still want to find in my life, to add to my life. But I am extremely lucky and blessed by what I do have. A partner who loves, appreciates, and yes, desires me, in our own special way.

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Scened All Night

February 8th, 2016

It started in the social area. Friends with a stun baton. She’s negotiating, afraid. Wants to see someone else be hit with it first. He of course, volunteers me. Zapping my leg, making me scream and squirm away, and scream some more. Her face in shock. His eyes light up.

Grab it. He holds it out. Grab it. Tears streaming down my face in an instant. Hand making grabby motions six inches above it. Grab it. Crying harder, more grabby motions. 3. Put your hand around it. 2. Do I need to give it back to him? 1. Grab it. More grabby motions and crying. Counting doesn’t overcome my fear, that’s not wired into me strongly enough. That Voice: Are you going to grab it or should I give it back to him. I look at his eyes, crestfallen. That’ll do it. Should I give it back to him. no… I couple more breaths and I wrap my fingers around it. Keeping my thumb on top, so I don’t get stuck clenching it.

Now, he says, turning to her. You have to push the button. I’m still twitching, and she’s shaking her head. You have to push the button, or I’ll hold it down much longer. I can’t, she says, I don’t hurt people. You got her into this, you have to push it. Do you want me to hold it down, I’ll do it much longer than you. I didn’t mean for it to be her, she looks terrified. Maybe you should ask her if it’s okay. She does, I tell her yes. If you don’t press it, I’ll hold it down for at least three seconds. Okay, she agrees, but she’s still twitching almost as much as me. Do it, come on, press the button.

She does, and I scream, and jerk my hand away, shaking it rapidly. She covers her face, aghast at what she has done. He pulls me against his chest in a tight hug. You okay? Yeah. I squeeze him tight. I shake my hand a bit more. Hey, it’s okay, it really is, I tell her. And now it’s her turn to play with her partner at it.

This gets his energy up and we go get dressed and bring the toybag up from our room.

What are you up for? I asked you to beat the stress out of me. Okay.

He grabs me from kneeling and pulls me over his lap and starts pounding on my upper back. Still chatting with those around us. Drumming with his hands. Punching the persistent knots. Knocking the breath out of me more than once. By the time he’s done, I am more than warmed up. Grinning up at him. Alright, now we’re ready to go.

We head to the dungeon, looking for a good piece of furniture. He sends me to the other one, to find the ladder he likes. I find the wrong one, in the right spot and wait. The right one is being used. I stretch and bounce, and he arrives with his other scene. I set out the floggers while they prepare, then kneel to watch and guard for unwary walkers. They have a good scene together, and I clean up while he escorts her back to her partner.

My Turn.

He starts with the soft pair. Thumps and rhythm, florentine. It feels good, rewarming my back. I bob my head to the music, but its strange in this space. We up to the next set of floggers, heavier. Still trying to bob to the beat, but he seems to be hitting on the up while I nod on the down. I sync up with him, groans of happy when he slams down hard. Florentine is sharper now, leading to louder moans. Floggers pounding me into the ladder.

Next pair, some long rubber ones. Sharp and stingy, have me screaming quickly. Writhing on the ladder. Squirming and dropping with screams of pain. He switches up again, to the thinner ones, he can make good thumps with these, but the florentine is so stingy I am screaming again. And too quickly, my back is bleeding, a small scab pulled off by the tips. He bandaids it and notices my bare ass, neither of us ready to be done.

Grabs up a Malaprop multi-layered stick. Strikes having me screaming and dropping, and standing up again. Double thumper, less stingy, but still pulls screams. Hold onto the ladder, don’t let go. Then he finds the devil pop, and lays about my ass and thighs, leaving its very distinctive marks with every scream. Next he pulls out a paddle, Five. Okay. Tap, tap, tap, tap, SMACK. Screaming and dropping, he motions me back up. Tap, tap, tap, tap, SMACK, scream, SMACK! Scream, tap, tap, SMACK, SMACK! He giggles as he digs for another toy.

Dragon tail! His grin is as wide as my rueful smile, as I face him, and hold on to the ladder. Snapping and screaming and twisting, and dropping. He motions me up every time I fall. My hands tight on the ladder instead of grabbing the places he hits, pulling myself up. Legs coming up protectively instead, and he just snaps them, too. Breasts and thighs and hips, and a few right down the middle. How’s my aim? Very good, Sir. Every snap pulling a scream or a squeal. Alright, turn around. Ass, and shoulders, and back and thighs. Snapping and cracking and screaming and squirming.

And then he is standing by my side, happy and hot. I lean over and kiss him. I love you. I love you, too. I reach for him and kiss him again. Thank you. He smiles, all bouncy and happy, and I clean up our toys.

We head back to the social area, find friends to sit with. He pokes around in his bag showing off some toys. Then comes up with the Irish 8s. Snaps them on my wrists as I smile. Oh, how I’ve missed these. A bit more chatting and he digs around some more. Comes up with the gas mask, shows it off a bit, and then onto my head it goes. Shows how it works. Then grabs some ear plugs, plops them in my ears. Then ties a blindfold around the eyes of the mask. Can you see? Only the lights if I look at the ceiling. He chats, and I can hear his voice clearly, but not the other ones around me, he is the only one right in front of me. Occasionally cutting off my airflow. Tightening the mask when it gaps. I have to keep my head down or the chin gaps when I breathe. So tight on my forehead. Chatting and playing with my air. Waiting til I just start to panic to let me breathe. The cuffs keep me mindful and I don’t reach up to stop him. Occasionally, though, I rub my forehead.

It gets late, and he asks if I’m done. Yes. He pulls off the blindfold, out the earplugs, and off the mask. I rub my forehead and work my jaw back into place. Take the bag back to the room, and bring the keys back with you. I stand and he pulls my dress down for me, and I set off. Halfway back to the room, my dress is back around my waist. Silly shiny thing. I get some compliments from a few in the hall. Thanks, I call back. Drop the bag, grab the keys, I can’t get the cuffs off to put on a robe, so I just throw it over my shoulders and head back, keys and robe edges in my hands in front of me.

I get back to where he was, but he’s gone. I head down to Cookies and Cocoa, but he’s not there, either. So, I head back to wait for him. Realizing he’s outside, in the cold, with the smoke. I wait for a while, listening to the muffled chatter and laughter. I can hear him. Eventually I get bored, and head back down for chocolate. He arrives a bit later, and I get him cocoa, only spilling a bit of water with my cuffed hands. We hang out and chat some, until we’re ready to go.

He grabs me by the hair, dragging me up onto tiptoe, pulling me down the hall beside him. Mouth open, moaning with pleasure. 1. 2. 3. Orgasm. Thank you, sir. He drags me up the stairs, through the halls, down the stairs and through another hall to our room. Groaning and squealing with pleasure and pain at the tightness of his grip as he pulls me along by the hair. Pushing me into the room. I gasp and shake for a moment, before he removes the handcuffs and we head to bed.

Amazing night full of pleasure and pain and love.

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Post COPE Post

September 19th, 2015

It was a different event this year. A different crowd, a different feel, a different energy. He had a lot of requests, I was just planning on one scene with him. I demo-bottomed for one part of one class, attended one demo, and sat with him for part of a third. I did my usual service thing, cleaned his boots before opening ceremonies, got him drinks and food, lugged the gear, claimed furniture, and knelt/sat attentively for his scenes. It was a quieter weekend for us. The scenes went really well, for all of us. Four flogging scenes in a row Friday night, mine being the finale, and one more on Saturday. All very good and energetic scenes.

I usually do scene write-ups after big events, but I haven’t really got it in me this time. It was a good scene, it was what I wanted and needed. Flogging, paddling, even a jolt of electricity. There were screams and groans and tears, by the end I was floating high. But I don’t have the words for it. It wasn’t a journey of distinctive parts. I could probably identify most of the tools he used – floggers, the new butt hammer, thumper and paddle, and the stun gun. I can’t, however, remember the order, or the flow. It isn’t a stream of consciousness like I usually get in my head. It is more like a nice, hot, comfortable whirlpool of love, emotion, and connection. Except for the cross we used… that was fucking awkward. 😉 But we made it work, together.

I had another scene-ish thing this week, too. At practice, which in the near future, will be more like old practice once again. He was teaching people six-count. One of them was doing really well, so he gave her my back, to test just how well. They took turns, her more than him, and her aim was pretty good. Trying different floggers for weight and feel. It was nice to be doing that again. He even had me turn around to show her breast flogging. Doing quite the number on my chest between them.

Then he pulled out the dragontail, and they traded that off for a while. I pointed out to her at one point that she was the only person other than him who I let him me with that thing. He was teaching her to watch body language, processing and reactions. I only let her do it because he was teaching. She, who had not wanted to “hurt me” with the floggers, really got into laying red lines and spots with the tail.

Then she got into another conversation, and he proceeded to go through the toy bag to hit me with other things. He grinned at me at one point, “Do you feel thanked enough for your service this weekend?” He had not left a lot of marks on my during our scene at COPE, but he sure made up for it that night. Even going so far as to lay Uncle grid marks on my thighs at the end. Gods, I love him so much. I even got in some snuggles after, while he surfed the net, and we waited for the night to wind down.

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Friday 2: Corporal, Please

February 9th, 2015

We head to the cross, blocked off by chairs, another scene just ending. He has his bag of toys, and an assistant to hand him things. Strip off my shirt, but leave the skirt. I step up and find my grip, making sure my back is as flat as possible. The mop floggers, first, he tells her. Fitting headphones onto our heads, so we can have the old club in our ears.

He starts of nice, easy hits to get me going. Bobbing with the music, into florentine. Relaxing into our energy together. My eyes close automatically, ignoring the world, focusing just on him. They become stingy faster than I expect, but I just bear down into it, vocalizing and squirming at the hits. He rides the waves up and down, finding our rhythm. I have missed this.

He steps away a moment and returns with one of the little sticks. Smack and squeak, smack and squeak. He attacks my ass and thighs, and back. I squirm and squeal for a bit. He returns to floggers for a bit after that. Back into the rhythm, hard and pounding. Sinking into it.

Another change, and I scream, the loopy bat already. I hear her comment, You remember when she helped? And I laugh and Scream again. He turns me around, and I realize I’ve got my eyes closed, I’m not blindfolded, and I open them, to see his big grin. He hits my thigh, still marked from Wednesday. And then my breasts, loop around my nipple. Fuck! Ow! I squirm and he places my hands up. It is very hard to keep them up. And then she hands him the pony pecker.

He comes at me spinning, and I cringe and yelp, but the loopy bat is so much worse that this is almost a relief. Almost. Pounding and squealing. While he bounces and grins to music only we can hear. Then she hands him the deerskin and I melt. Big solid thuds on my chest, and then he tips a few and I yelp. Turns me back around again, for soldi thuds on my back. Oh that one is heaven. Even the handle pounding into me is lovely.

The unbreakable paddle is next, he pulls up the skirt for a clear shot. There is much screaming, and dropping, and climbing back up the cross. And trying to keep my ass out and then falling again. He steps away again. And comes back with the dragontail.

Snap, scream. Snap, scream. I am bouncing as he is striking. He puts my feet in the holes at the bottom of the cross. Don’t move them. Snap scream snap scream snap scream. Twisting and writhing, but keeping my feet still. Then he turns me around again, hands put up to hold them still. Snap scream snap scream snap scream. He decorates my breasts and thighs with whip kisses. Where are you at? Throat is raw. Just over the crest of the scene.

He pulls out the demon pop to finish me off. Pounding my thighs as I wail in pain. Turning them bright red and purple while he smiles at my pain. Pounding me until I’m done. Hugs and kiss and time for clean up. Such wonderful pain, just what I asked for.

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My First Futo

November 29th, 2014

I should be working on my term project, but the upstairs neighbors are blasting music again. Ruins my concentration. I haven’t quite figured out if it is band practice, or just a really loud stereo. It’s only 6pm on a Saturday, so not a huge deal, just not helpful for homework. So, writing instead.

He came home from his visit up north with some new rope skills to practice. So, we had a ropetastic Wednesday night. First he showed the other riggers the new Y-hanger he had learned, and they worked on it for a bit. Then he moved on to the new Futomomo.

I’ve never actually hung in a Futo before, though he tied one on me a couple weeks ago, the better to beat me, when I could not get away. I knew my leg would bend well enough for it, but I forgot to take into account the bruises from the last few weeks when I decided on which leg to offer.

He tied my ankle, and then started the wraps up. No problem, then he started feeding through the center and locking down each wrap. Pain. That’s odd, pain on the inside of the futo, not the outside like I expected. Ow! Is it too tight? I don’t even know what that means for this tie. No, I don’t think so, but Ow. I am so very confused by the strangely located pain while he finishes the tie. Some on the lowest wrap, but mostly inside. He keeps asking if it is too tight. Rope is hardly ever too tight for me, and he’s going to hang me by it, so I keep saying no. The I remember the bruises, must be hitting those. Okay, makes sense now.

He ties the lift rope and pulls. OW!!! Fucking hell! Okay, yeah, this is an excruciating tie. Ow, Ow, Ow! You okay? Yeah. It’s actually really comfortable on the rest of my body, just hurts like hell. He ties me off and grabs the dragontail. Of course he does. Gotta not scream, I cover my mouth, swearing and spinning and flailing. Hook my free leg up in the lift rope. Snap, breathe, snap, yelp. Free leg is awkward, trying to keep away from the tail. Fuck my tied leg hurts. Okay, I need down.

He lowers me, lets me breathe for a few moments, then back up, but only partial. My shoulders are still on the ground, but I can’t quite get my free leg down. Twisting, and swearing as he snaps the tail some more. Cover the screams, don’t bother the neighbors.

Tied foot is a little numb, but still moving and feeling. Okay, free leg is really getting annoyed now. Hurting my hip trying to figure out how to support it. He lets me down.

Fun? Yes. Comfortable? Yes, but it fucking hurts. Grins and kisses and he unties my leg. Oh, that’s what blood flow feels like. Try to straighten my leg. Nope, not yet. Yep, the rope was on All the Bruises. Wee! He drops all the rope in my lap. Happy space. Mmmm hemp. Excellent night.

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Two Hours of Bliss

September 17th, 2014

Getting ready for the party. She wants a long slow burn. Do we want beat together or separately? Together seems like a better chance of a longer scene, trading off. We go in search of furniture, but end up in an alcove, against a wall, side by side.

That wall becomes my friend, my anchor, my focus.

He has 8 new wooden toys, plus all his floggers, and the cocks, and the dragontail, and the stun gun. He uses them All.

We start with floggers, warming up the skin, sinking into our heads and our bodies. I am nodding, hands searching the wall for purchase, for best position, shoulders tense and tired. We find our stride, slow and steady.

He comes forward, pulls our shirts off our shoulders, for a better view. There is more moaning and screaming now as floggers hit bare skin. Arms trapped, my hands now have a place, forehead sometimes against the wall. Heels tapping and body rocking and head nodding with the strikes.

Skirts pulled down next, revealing asses for the new paddles. Screams and jumping, twisting, but keep facing the wall. Falling deeper inside now, there is some growling and more stomping.

He pulls giant rubberbands down our bodies and around our asses. Oh, the screaming and swearing, whimpering and arching. Stop turning! Am not trying to turn, am bracing against the pull, but I don’t argue. He is giggling so much.

Put in the corner, marinating, breathing, sinking, floating. And he is back.

Toys keep switching, turn around, time for thighs and breasts. The joy and huge smile on his face is excellent. I grin right back, she is sobbing. I freak out a bit at heavy breast hits, hard to kept my hands down. Wall sits. What? She shows, okay. Beating thighs. So good.

Zap. Zappity, zap. The stun gun makes me twitch, a lot. The horrible noise of death. Even him zapping her, I am whimpering and twitching. Choice time, stun gun or dragontail. She takes stun gun. I take the tail. Her first, I cringe and twitch in the corner, and then leaves her holding it. So many kisses of the tail. Nope, no blood. The shirt is slipping, so I let it drop. Oh really? He snaps my hip. Fuck you! What? Sir… many more snaps and much screaming.

Turns us into the corners. I am so high! The texture of the wall is super interesting, feels so good on my fingertips. This is how people describe ecstasy. My whole body is humming. And we are not done. Skirt is completely gone, when I did that happen? Before the shirt fell, I think.

Paddles, floggers, and whips, oh my! Up and down we go. Filling the space with screaming and pain and giggles and tears. Floating and shaking and now, I cannot see the texture of the wall. My eyes and words don’t work.

We just keep going. Sticks and cocks and paddles and popper and floggers and dragontail. Oh, his nails and hands feel so good on raw flesh. So deep in my body, gone from my mind. The wall is so comfy and nice to lean on.

How am I going to blog this, with pictures of all the toys? And now I am giggling again. Or a running description of the wall? Hey, look, I can see the wall again.

She is screaming and crying, and I am giggling. We are facing him again. He snaps the rubberband on my thighs. She is begging no. Knees. We don’t get it. On Your Knees. We both drop. Come here. We each curl up on an arm as we come down. I am feeling great. Happy pool of goo, covered in pretty red and purple. 

 

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Rope, Rhino Cock, and a Balancing Act

February 13th, 2014

What would you like?

Sideways or face-down?

Or do you want to float?

I can float face-down.

Clothes off to get them out of your way?

Sure.

Stripped down to a black bra, red fishnet stockings and shiny black boots.

He pulls out the hemp that we had learned is really 5mm that day. Two hanks for the hip harness. There is so much going on, noise and light and people, it takes me a bit to focus down into the rope as he ties. We are in a corner though, so it’s not so bad.

Tight around my hips, through the crotch, down to the thighs. The smell of help reaches my nose, my fingers hooked on a carabiner above my head to keep steady. The biner slide in on the backs of my thighs, only a little pinching.

Then he’s up for the chest harness. Wraps above and below the breasts, hooked into the ring. Now the lift line and I’m up, leveled out, tied off. Run fingers through one spot to smooth the skin. He grabs the cloth and supports my head, over my eyes. Darkness and floating. I feel like I’m spinning, but I can’t tell how fast. Arms pulled up to cross behind my back. I float there, sinking in.

A couple light snaps of a dragon tail, but then he’s gone again, taking care of the engineer. And I disappear for a little while. Gone into the ropes and the darkness and the slow spinning.

And he is back with the sting. There’s some dragon tail, but it’s not long before he pulls out the new toy. The rhino cock. Beating my inner thighs while I squeal and twist. He smacks a breast and my hands come down protectively. Back to my thighs, and my hands go away. Another breast hit and they return. So tender in this position. He pinches a nipple and I all but yank his hand away.

What are you doing? Protecting your nipples?

That too.

My chest is starting to hurt from all the twisting and writhing, it feels better to have my arms down. I arch my back to take some more pressure off. But every smack comes with a twist and a howl.

Are you about done?

Soon.

A few more strikes, but then he’s onto something new.

I hear the clink of chain – fear and anticipation run high.

Nipple clamps, first one, and a scream and then the other, more screams.

Okay, but can I come down now?

No.

Please?

Not yet.

I breathe into the pain and arch my back to help my chest. And he adds weight to the clamps, Eliciting whimpers and screams. More weight. He wants to get it all the way to the floor.

He pulls the blindfold off and I can see all the metal bits he’s attached to the clamps – forceps and flesh clips and another set of nipple clamps, all the way down.

He gets up and lets down my legs so I can stand. But oh, we are not done yet. He yanks on the line attached to my nipples, adjusts a few things for stability and then hooks it up to the top of the suspension beam. His eyes light up and he grabs a water bottle, resting it on the clamped nipples.

Then he starts to untie, and it falls off. He replaces it, but it slides off again fairly quickly. This time he returns with the stun gun, which he sets upright on the floor in front of me. A meaningful look and the water bottle is replaced once more.

Don’t drop it.

I stare hard at the water bottle, gauging the levelness of the water. Focusing solely on keeping the water inside from moving. Keep it balanced. He returns to untying, pulling and yanking, but I growl and glare at the water. Keeping it steady while he works.

He gets to the chest harness and I panic a bit. He is only a little careful, but I am more. It does not fall. I am still glaring at it when he comes around and picks up the stun gun. He puts it right above my mound.

It didn’t fall!

You’re right, it didn’t fall.

He moves behind me and yanks me back. I scream and tears fall as the whole line of metal attached to my nipples falls to the ground. Leaning against his chest crying for a moment until he steps back and grabs the still-attached clamps. Oh gods no.

He’s grinning and nodding.

Ready?

No.

1, 2, 3.

Squealing orgasm.

1, 2, 3.

And another, the pain isn’t nearly as bad as the fall a moment ago.

Breathing, happy, hugs and kisses.

Thank you, sir.

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Rubber Floggers and a Dragontail

July 18th, 2013

Had a great night last night. There was some passing around of the stun gun because one of the girls wanted it, but didn’t want to do it to herself. Had my shoulders rubbed and some snuggles from a friend. Then was the demo bottom for him and his girl, while my boyfriend took random shots to show them what to do. He, of course, was using the rubber floggers to pound into me. It was the girl’s first time flogging, but she was gaining accuracy by the end. The guy is already pretty accurate, but my small back was a challenge. Then my boyfriend decided to six-count with the rubbers, and I shrunk away, grumbling that he can’t do that when I’m not allowed to scream. He let them go back to practicing until they were both tired out.

There was some chatting and he asked me how my back was. I said it was alright, and he asked if I wanted some more. I said sure, he said he wasn’t going to be nice, and I asked if he had a gag in the tubs. He came back with a Japanese washcloth which he knotted up and a leather strap to hold it in place. I choked a bit and he backed off one knot then strapped me in. I slowed my breathing, bit in and confirmed I could spit it out when I needed to.

Then up on the wall, and out came the rubber floggers again, well, off my arms, really, because he had me holding them from earlier that night (don’t let them fall). He was having a lot of fun with the tips last night. I screamed and swore into the gag, pounding the wall, stomping my feet, spinning in circles to see his grinning face and shining eyes, and dropping to the ground. Always to climb back up and put my face back to the wall. Well, almost always, once, I turned and had him hit my breasts for a few strikes, just to give my back a break. Tears fell, I ran headlong into pain space and there was some growling, and breathing. Sometimes I’d end up on the ground and he’d just keep swinging. I’d try to keep my back to him until I could get up again. Eventually, he told me to stop turning around and I curled up on one foot, the other against my chest, and breathed through the pain, til he tipped me something fierce and I started stomping my feet again.

I choked on the gag a few times, collapsing to my knee and spitting it out to catch my breath. I didn’t have any panic moments this time, only some choking. Crying and breathing on the ground, he asked my if I was done, I said no, and stood up again, and he got out the dragontail.

I turned to face him, eyes wide, hands behind my back. Oh really? I nodded, my back was so tender already. He took about five or six shots at my breasts before he really nailed a nipple and I screamed and turned around again. He was stuck on tips, still. Getting the super sting of just the tip. I screamed and cried, jumped and pounded, collapsed and bounced back up. He found a new favorite, super painful spot – hitting as close to the armpit as you possibly can from the back. Fucking hell, that hurts! A few stray snaps to the ass, the arms, the calves, the thighs and shins, as I spun dropped and danced around to the strikes.

I collapsed to a little sitting ball, and he tapped my forehead and I rolled back flat to the ground. He snapped my thighs a few times, whipping my skirt up higher and higher. I hardly responded. You done? I nodded and grabbed his ankle for physical contact while I lay there, just breathing and floating. He pulled my skirt down a bit and let me relax for a minute or two. When I let go, he picked up the stun gun, and I suddenly felt stabby metal bits in my legs. I writhed and squirmed, pushing it away time after time, until he pinned me a bit more and zapped me a few times while I screamed into the gag. I covered myself back up this time, relaxed for a few minutes until I started choking on the gag again. Somehow, I’d maintained a hold of on of the rubber sets of floggers this whole time, so I sat up cradling them. You alright? Yes. Happy grinning floating the whole rest of the night. Back all beautifully marked and tingly still today.

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Needs, Wants & Desires

June 27th, 2013

Last night, I was introduced to a new way to view things. I have talked before about wants and needs, but this is a different way to look at them. We were talking specifically about scening, and broke it up into Needs, Wants, and Desires. We were talking about Role Play, and the presenters set forth that if you know what you need, want, and desire, then you can find creative ways to do have good scenes. I found this concept very interesting to think about narrowed down to just scenes/play.

I will be addressing these, first, as a bottom, which is my preferred place in a scene.

Needs. What do I need in a scene for it to work for me? Without what, is a scene just pointless and flat? First, connection. I need to feel an emotional connection to my scene partner. That can be friendship, love, or even just attraction. Second, power exchange. I need there to be some giving and taking of control. This necessitates the third, trust. Without trust, there is no scene.

Wants. What do I want out of a scene? What, if I don’t have it, will make the scene feel off afterward? Bondage. Mental or physical. Rope, leather, chain. Stay there. Don’t move. Don’t let go. Keep quiet. Hands behind your back. Hands on the wall. I want the power exchange to result in control of my physical being in some manner. Intense sensation. I’m a masochist, I love intense sensation. Pain, pleasure, adrenaline, endorphins. If I’m blacking his boots, I don’t need him to grind the sole into my leg, but I certainly want him to and I feel like I missed something if he doesn’t. If I’m flying through the air, I want to feel the bite of the rope, and the adrenaline of the flight, and the pull when I spin. Floating can all soft and comfy just isn’t the same, fortunately hemp is good at biting in even in floaty scenes. Not to mention the feel of it sliding over my skin going on and off.

Desires. What are the figurative cherries on top? What makes a scene extra special? Spacing out. Reaching rope space, pain space, sub space. Often in that order. I love pushing through pain space to bliss out in subspace. Or using rope space to get to one of the others. Break down. Sometimes pushing through pain space doesn’t get me to sub space, it leaves me in a puddle of sobbing goo, and that can be awesome, too. Sexual intimacy. Orgasms, hand jobs, blow jobs, boot licking, sex. Even just cuddling up naked after a scene. That skin on skin contact to ride the waves back down.

So, how do these things play out. Let’s take last night’s play as an example. A dragontail and paddle scene.

Needs: connection, power exchange, and trust. He and I are very connected, in a loving relationship for over three years, and a friendship for even longer. I am submissive to him, and when he comes at me with that dragontail, it is definitely me giving up control to him to let him hit me with it. And I trust him absolutely, to not slice me open or hit me in the face.

Wants: bondage, intense sensation. When he comes at me with the dragontail, my hands go instinctively behind my back. When we play in that venue, I have to control my volume, or cover my mouth. When he’s hitting me, I have to try my best to be still. Pain? Oh hell yeah. Dragontail stinging and paddle smacking, awesomely intense sensations.

Desires: Last night, the cherry was pain space, into sub space. After a while, I was squeaking less and breathing more with the strikes. When I was done, I was all cuddling dopey sub spaced out for a few minutes. And I got some hugs and kisses to top it off, too.

Needs, wants and desires met.

Part Two

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