May 27th, 2010
Last week’s post marked one year exactly, of this blog being published. It also was the first post directly posted here.
A lot has happened in a year, and I am working on pulling all my blog entries, journal entries, emails, chats, and random ramblings together into one work. I have come a long way, and there is a long way yet to go. I have grown and learned and done so much more than I ever thought I would even have the opportunity, courage or ability to try.
Last night, I asked him to flog me. I wanted some stress relief from the week to purge and prepare me for the convention we are attending this weekend. He started with the thin tailed rubber flogs, moved on to a dragon tail, Uncle, a quirt, slapping, smacking, punching, drumming, caning, an electric flyswatter and a taser. He took me into object space and attacked me mentally as well. I was in tears nearly the entire scene. It was wonderful and painful and incredible and brutal. When he was done, when he had broken me down to the single thought of “maintain the position,” he picked me up and carried me to the bed. He took care of me with a blanket and two women to stroke me. He left me in object space for a while, before he asked for his girlfriend back, and I served and took care of our things. Afterward, we talked about the scene on the drive home.
One year ago, I would not have taken half the beating, and probably none of the electricity. One year ago, I would be a tired, worn out, droppy mess today. But as I write this, I am about to head to a hotel for a weekend long convention and I am feeling great. One year ago, I would not have been able to talk about the scene so quickly nor say I would have been happy staying in object space had he so chosen to leave me there. One year ago, I was in a very different place in my journey, and I am grateful to everyone who has helped me get to where I am now. Thank you, Husband and Master. Thank you, Lover and Top. Thank you, Boyfriend and Dominant. Thank you, friends and family.
May 13th, 2010
With apologies for last week’s post, I was not in the writing frame of mind…
He snapped his fingers with a smile, and my clothes came off. Shirt, shorts, shoes, socks. Piled neatly on the floor near the suspension ring, out of the way. Thirty feet of hemp, doubled up, around my waist three times, knotted and wrapped into a short tail. Sixty more feet, thirty for each leg, from waist to thigh, a small band, and up and down, thigh to waist. A drum tie. Tuck the tails into the wraps, a double coin for style.
I’m going to blindfold you, turn you upside down and spin you around, how does that sound?
Sure, sounds fun.
A carabiner in the crotch, catching all four runs of line. Hoist rope run through pulleys and ring, up I go, only slight pinching as the ‘biner shifts from down to up. Feet straight up, lift until only my fingertips touch the floor, feet below the beam. He sits in front of me, checking in, all is well.
Aren’t you under dressed?
Now you’re screwed.
A blindfold, tied around the head. Spinning and swinging, checking that all is secure.
Now I’m going to go get the stun gun.
Whimper, squirm, gasping for breath. He asks, receives and returns, electricity crackling. I yelp at every snap, louder at the noise than when it touches me. Unable to move, the shots with it flow into me. I squeal at the short bursts, my arms around my head, panting with fright. More spinning and swinging, more zapping and crackling. His voice breaks through again.
I’ll let you down after you do one hundred crunches. Do you understand?
Spinning, spinning, crunching up. Tired quickly and oh so dizzy.
Are you giving up?
Spinning and crunching and counting. The stun gun comes in to help motivate. My arms are numb.
If you pass out, I’ll leave you there.
Oh yeah, and breathing. Breathing and spinning and crunching and zapping.
How many now?
Are you giving up?
Should I get the dragon tail? See which of us can do finish the next 50 first?
More crunches, desperate to finish. Counting down now instead of counting up. People watching, some amused, some sympathetic.
Are you sure?
His arms around me and a table slid beneath me. Some one lifting my ass while he unhooks me from the ring, and down on my back. Gasping and shaking. Finally catch my breath and I feel him nearby.
Dragon tail. Scream. He moves around the table, snapping thighs, belly, breasts. My arms are still up around my head. I flatten out, but rock with each snap. Grabbing at the table for a moment before falling flat again. Legs curling up and back down. Tears come, filling the blindfold.
I straighten my legs, feet out, whimpering, crying. Screaming as he snaps the sole of my foot, curling up and forcing myself to flatten out. Shaking, crying, screaming, writhing.
A different sensation. Slapping my belly and thighs. The screaming stops, I sink into the more solid continuous pain, coming out for a vibrating yell.
More snapping, screaming, crying and then…
Stand up. Move it.
On my feet, blood rushing out of my head.
On your knees.
Down I go, back up, head down, knees spread, palms up. He circles snapping thighs, arms, breasts, long strokes on my back. I arch and squeal, and return to position. Head throbbing, but slowly calming.
He walks away and leaves me to come down. Tears stop, breathing calms, shaking quiets. Sound returns, cool air of the dungeon on my skin. I feel him in front of me. Blindfold is untied. Ordered to my feet, he unties the ropes, handing them up to me.
Can I have my girlfriend back?
Smiles and hemp coils. I take care of the rope, inspecting and coiling, putting it back in the crate. My stomach, reminds me I was abusive to it, spinning upside down. He sends me up for water, I down a few crackers and return. A few glasses later and I’m curled up by his side. All fuzzy and glowing from a spectacular scene.
March 25th, 2010
I had face slapping as a hard limit and he stripped it away with logic and I let it go the rest of the way in a burst of confusion, but given the chance, I did not take it back. When I am in that space, I call him Sir, except when I fail to, which is more often than either of us would like, but that is another topic entirely. He convinced me to agree that I deserved to be slapped for forgetting to say Sir because I was disrespecting him by doing so. I agreed to this, feeling he was right, I deserved to be punished for these infractions. Not long after this, he asked if he could now slap me whenever he wanted, and I said Yes, Sir, thinking he meant as punishment as we had agreed. As he laughed at my quick agreement, I realized he meant for any reason, or for none. I fluttered and stammered, but did not take it back. We talked about one reason behind the limit being facial bruising. He even asked me, if I wished to take back my agreement and I said no. I trust him, I love him and I want to give up control to him. Face slapping does not turn me on, but it is one example of stripping away my limits to give him full control.
Giving up my limits, thus far, has been smoother than I thought. Though I still cling tightly to a few, knowing full well I will give them up, but still allowing fear to hold tight so far. He has been steadily working me up to longer whips, and harder floggers since we met, pushing me and my limits. As noted above, I gave up face slapping. Just a few weeks ago, I inadvertently gave up breaking the skin and blood when he used a grill brush on my thigh that did more damage than we planned. He called my limits a checklist, and he is not wrong.
I want to give up everything to him, I want to let go of all control and all choice when I am with him in that space. Limits have no place there. To truly submit to his will, I must be willing to do anything for him, without hesitation. This scares me, but I must not let fear take the control I want to give to him. I must be willing to let him slap me, poke me with needles, whip me, yes, even wrap a snake around me, if that is what will please him. Not just let him, but ask him, ask him to use me in whatever way serves his will. Fear and limits will only hold me back, I must let go.
November 21st, 2009
I was asked recently what I would not offer freely. This got me to thinking about my limits. I had not explored them seriously in quite some time. Just random comments of, “no red,” or “you know that’s a hard limit” when things came up. Back when Husband and I first entered the community, I did a lot with lists. Filled out fetish lists, filled out like/dislike/limits lists. But it had been quite a while since I seriously visited the topic, and limits do change over time. My partners have challenged my limits, poking them gently here and there, never Leaping over the line, just prodding it until they made a hole to slip through. Or, in a couple cases, waiting until I changed my mind and Asked to try something.
So I now have three lists. Current Hard Limits, acknowledging that things do change. Previously Hard Limits that have been pushed to Soft Limits, acknowledging that these are still tricky ground, and often partner specific. And a very short Soft Limits list of two things I didn’t know enough to have put on my Hard Limits list in the first place.
Current Hard Limits
Animals(yes, this includes snakes)
Blood (except for sex during menstruation)
Cutting of the skin (does not include scraping/scratching or breaking from impact play)
Medical Play (specifically enemas, sounds, catheters)
Removal of my pubic hair
Bull whips (longer than 4 feet)
Significant Facial Impact (smacking, hitting, punching, etc)
Public sex (more than two other people present)
Willfully Breaking the Law (only exception is private play in a public area where there is reasonable safety of not being caught, (i.e. sex after dark in a car or park))
Previously Hard Limits that have been pushed to Soft Limits
Grabbing by the throat
Gentle face slapping
Single Tails(under 4 feet)
Sex while menstruating
Essential Flavored Oils
November 12th, 2009
Late post, sorry, busy busy life.
I was asked last night, why do I let him do certain things to me. Aside from the obvious, because I like those things, because I do not always “Like” the particular thing (Dragon’s Tails, for instance) though I like the result, I answered because it makes him Happy. The smile on his face, the joy in his eyes, the glow of happiness that radiates off of him in waves.
I will do a lot of things, endure a lot of things, try a lot of things, to give him happiness. Fortunately, I also enjoy Most of those things, or at the very least I enjoy the result of pretty much all of those things.
Because he does the same for me. Relationships are two way streets. In all my relationships, we do things to make Each Other happy(and ourselves, of course). It isn’t me pleasing him all the time, or him doing everything to make me happy. We do things that make us both happy. It can be a cycle of: I do something that makes him happy which makes me happy which makes him happy. But it’s even better when we’re doing something that makes us both happy and then it amplifies from there.
BDSM is about having fun for me. There is the physical, the play, the bondage, the sex. But it’s the rush of Joy and Love and Passion that makes it all worthwhile in the end.