Sometimes It’s Just A Leg

August 25th, 2016

Listening to class on Wednesday. He’s practicing a single column tie, on my wrist. Pulling hard to make sure it doesn’t collapse, bouncing my arm like a puppet. A half dozen times. Then he grabs an ankle and does the same thing.

Only this time, he starts tickling my foot. I cover my mouth and squirm, but his tie is firm, and he’s grinning happily, tickling it just lightly to watch me react. Then he decides to go for more.

He starts tying my foot at a hard 90 degree angle, then runs the rope up over the top of my calf muscle, taking wraps Tightly down my leg back to my ankle. Tighter with every wrap. It reminds me of the Torture with Twine class, where I tied my own leg like this, but with much thinner stuff. I tighten my hand over my mouth, trying to keep my squeals of pain in, but then managed to switch over to processing with breath – gasping and breathing heavily as he squeezes the muscle tighter.

Then he starts tickling again. I clap my hand over my mouth as my brain tries to process the two opposing sensations at once without screaming. My eyes are wide as I stare up at him, and his eyes and mouth are full of sadistic amusement. And he tickles and tickles, and then squeezes the torture calf, and I have to muffle screams again. Light touches driving me mad, my hands are flapping helplessly, but I can’t fight, I can’t move my leg. He tries to straighten it a few times, pulling gasps and squelched groans out of me. It just can’t move. I try to move my toes, they feel so odd forced up like that, assuring there’s no problem, just strangeness.

Eventually, he unties that leg, and we both admire the markings the rope has left. Then he grabs the other and starts up again. Tight and tickles, pain and weirdness. Gasps and flappy hands. So much fun with one little rope. Together.

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Transitions

March 30th, 2015

I am quite spoiled when it comes to suspensions. His were all designed for the high-flying rig, to be comfortable and secure, while flying in 30′ arcs through the air from 15′ high points. We did not do much experimenting until very recently, with uncomfortable ties, and even less with transitioning. He had worked on these with the engineer a bit more, she having different experiences and preferences with suspension. Lately, though, he has been wanting to expand his repertoire, and has been learning a variety of new ties.

This past week, both on Wednesday and on Friday, we played around with transitioning between various positions, using the chest-loading harness he’s been working on, a new waist harness we picked up at Snowbound, the futomomo I’ve posted about a few times, and simple single column ties on thigh and ankle. It was mostly quite painful and challenging, but also a lot of fun.

My body posed a new challenge that he does not encounter with the engineer. Anyone who has ever been to our flogging class knows that my shoulder blades stick out quite sharply. We found that this makes the two-stemmed chest harness a bit trickier to tie, without the knots landing right on the blades. He had to raise the top bands of the harness up quite a bit, which forced the kunukis into my armpits. Wednesday, this caused some nerve issues in the arm that was down, but on Friday, it was not as much of a problem. The change was possibly due to the clothing I wore Friday which protected the area a bit more than the lack of a barrier on Wednesday. I also have fairly thin arms, so we had some issues keeping the bands off my nerves on the outside of my arm, as well. Again, on Friday we seemed to have sorted it out a bit better. Practice makes perfect, or at least better each time.

I really enjoyed getting to experiment again. Trying out new things, challenging myself and adding to his skills.

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Saturday: Tortures of Edo Japan

February 9th, 2015

It started in the room… no, it really started weeks ago. Him dropping hints, having secret conversations, building things in private. He had Plans for our weekend. Saturday, he said, the monster was coming to play.

Then it started in the room. He wanted consent, so he told us his plans. Showed us a picture. Pulled out the kneeling “mat” he had made (omg that looks horribly painful… but I’m curious), and the beating stick – bamboo wrapped in burlap and cotton rope. He hit us with it a few times, she tried kneeling on the mat (I don’t want to start the pain so early, so I don’t). He showed her the pole he wanted to suspend her from. What else did we want to try? I like the shrimp tie (ebizeme, she corrects), and I’d like to try the mat, and yes, please hit me with the stick. It’s a really great stick, so deep and thuddy. We finalized our plans and head downstairs.

We find a spot, he goes to settle himself as we stretch. He returns, shoos people out of our space. Grabs me first, spinning me around, I assume the position – arms crossed behind my back. She pipes in, asking him for me, to put the blanket down before I sit, he agrees. He wraps the ropes roughly, keeping me tight against him, as I sink quickly in to rope space. Breathing in the scent of him, and the brand new rope, as we go. A simple box tie, just one wrap at the top, and two kunukis. His hand going behind the center of the chest wraps feels like it is crushing my chest, wtf, but it is gone just as quickly as he finishes the tie.

He sets out the blanket now, forcing me down, and I cross my legs. He ties the ankles quickly, wrapping up and around the back of my neck, pulling me down tightly, hooking in so the cinching lines are tight up against the sides of my neck. I keep breathing, it’s okay, I tell myself, it’s not against my windpipe. Relax. And then he shoves me back, up onto my talibone, head and shoulders against the wall. WTF? Oh, this’ll be interesting. No relaxing here. And then the burlap sack goes over my head (ooh hood, I like hoods) and I close my eyes to settle in as he goes to start her scene. Occasionally rocking and scooting tiny bits, trying to get further up my back to relieve the pressure.

He comes to me now and then, smacking with a small piece of bamboo, causing squeals and more scooting. I think he has her kneeling now, as the hits are coming more frequently, and I can hear her reacting, too. Voices murmur nearby, commenting on our scene, both famliar and not. Cracks of the bamboo have me squealing and yipping. Thuds of the stick make me moan. Stabbing with the far end of the bamboo have me screaming until he pulls it away. Long, hard screams as he digs it into my flesh.

Wait, I can’t breathe, I start to panic, gasping, no I can, it’s just thick, calm down. I get my breath back just before he starts hitting me again. Screams and squeals and moans. When he stops, panic sets in again as I try to take deep breaths. My eyes are open now, just to prove to myself that it’s just burlap over my head. Hole-filled burlap, plenty of space. I calm the panic, deep breaths. It’s okay. More hits and screams and moans. He’s gone again, replaced by panic. Stop it, you’re fine, I tell myself, squirming at the bag, scooting down the wall. My arms are on the floor now, so much better. See, look you’re fine, I tell myself. Deep breaths. More hits, more stabbing pain, more squeals and screams. I don’t know how long this goes on (I find out later that after she was tied, it was 25 minutes), but the cycle keeps repeating.

Until the panic wins. Until it doesn’t go away, even when he’s hitting me. And I start sobbing. Hard wracking sobs take over my body. And he pulls the burlap away. Oh gods! Fresh air! Lungfuls and lungfuls of fresh air. He pulls me down to sitting again, and quickly unties my and chest. I lean against him a little bit, and then he goes to get her off the mat and untied. Returning to me to finish.

People are talking at me and I’m responding, but I don’t remember what was said. I am shaking, and hugging myself, they are bouncing with energy. Ready to go on to the next. We have to wait though, for a point to put her up on. So, we talk. He tells her how long she knelt. I tell him about the chest, and the burlap, someone comments on watching me panic. We move our stuff over to near the point as the scene comes down, ready to go again.

He has to focus on her, so he’s going to put me down, and then I can get up when I need to. Okay, I’d like to try the bamboo gag, I tell him. We start with a simple box tie again. Then the gag, I forget to grab it with my teeth and he pulls to hard. I made sounds of protest as it pulls my lips to breaking, and he lets up. Bite it, he says. And I do and he finishes tying it off. He puts me down on the mat, and I glance up at her, standing nearby. Damn, this sucks. She nods. He ties a blindfold around my eyes and reminds me to get up when I need to. Then heads over to start the suspension.

My upper lip and teeth are bone dry already. I start to drool – oh yeah, that’s the other reason I don’t like gags. Dammit, nothing to be done, though, drool is the least of my problems. Man, my shins hurt. Pointy triangular slats poking the bone every couple inches. Thank gods he smoothed them down from sharp points. I lean forward, she’s right, the ankles are the worst, putting all the pressure at the top of my shins, head sitting on the floor support of the suspension rig. I hear him comment about it, but I cannot reply. Damn gag.

Then the real problem starts. My hips are on fire. Apparently the tie wasn’t the best lead up to this scene. Damn. I sit back up. Nope, that’s not any better. I try to relax into the pain, but this isn’t good pain. This sucks. I curl back down again. Trying to move the weight off my hips. No, this isn’t going to work. Back up, what happens if I kneel up? I only start to when I realize this will put my kneecaps into the triangles, no efing way. Back down again.

I’m frustrated now. I know I can stay here longer, if my shins were the only problem. He comments on me drooling, you know, someone else still has to kneel on that. I don’t make a sound, the gag keeps me from even grinning. Nothing I can do about the drooling. Stupid hips, stupid stupid hips. I try shifting my arms, rubbing my hips, trying to find a spot to make them feel better. To no avail. I know I cannot stay here, I know he doesn’t want me to injure myself, or endure bad pain.

So, I rock back and off. Sitting on the floor, I’d so recently asked a blanket to be put down on. But I don’t think about this just yet. I am mad at my hips. I just sit and fume for a few minutes. A scene is over, I want to kneel, but no, still can’t do that. Stupid hips.

Now, I remember that I don’t want to be sitting on this floor, and stand. I put my back to the wall. Stand there in the box tie, blindfolded and still drooling. I hear him put a third person on the mat. I know the suspension is up by now. My throat is so damn dry. I want to see the suspension, I open my eyes and can see some light at the bottom of the blindfold. I lift my head, but the bamboo pulls tighter on my mouth. I relax, sink into the ropes around me.

No, I really want to see, so I lift my head just long enough to catch a glimpse of how she’s tied and then drop my head again. Ow, but nice tie. I sink back into my ropes. Trying to ignore the drool dripping down my dress. Once tilting my head back to try and swallow some to wet my increasingly dry throat. I do like this gag, breathing is just fine, there is no moment of panic. But damn, the dryness of winter.

He finishes the suspension, and comes to let me out. Pulling the gag and blindfold and boxtie. You’ve drooled all over my new rope. I just smirk at him. Not my fault. I tell him that my hips are stupid and the shrimp tie was not my best choice leading into the kneeling scene. Then he unties her and I help put the ropes away. We try out the bottom side of the mat, the sharp pointy side. Damn, it’s such a good thing he sanded down the points on the other side. The tortures of Edo Japan are a huge success.

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All the Rope (aka Munter, Munter, Munter, Half Moon!)

January 30th, 2015

Had a great weekend at Snowbound last weekend. Missed the first night due to working the club, but made it early the next morning (too early, way too early). We went to really good classes all day. Starting with lashing people to bamboo (where we won some bamboo), getting back into box tie rhythm while learning some new variations, discussing partial suspensions and what you can do with them, and then a really awesome hip harness, and a really mean waist cinching sadistic tie.  Plenty of nuggets to be had, and new ties to experiment with, which we did later that evening at the play party. Sunday’s unconference brought more ties to learn, talk about, and practice, and So many munters, you wouldn’t believe. And while we stayed longer than anticipated, the discussions were still going strong when we headed home mid-afternoon.

He and I have decided to make Monday our date nights, complete with rope lab time. And we have plenty of new things to work on, not to mention the chest-loading harness that I started researching for him when the idea was first proposed. I’m not a huge fan of suspending in TKs. He spoiled me with several years of simple chest wraps for suspension, that putting that kind of pressure on my (already poorly circulating) arms, is just terribly uncomfortable. And that’s not what I learned suspension is. So many years of comfortable flights. But there are always new things to learn, new experiences to be had, and so we go forward. Looking for ways to make it work, for us both.

I often communicate to him, while trying new things, about tingly feelings and loss of circulation as follows: “So, X is tingling, but I’m alright with it.” I know how my body reacts to restriction, and being a masochist, I’m alright with a certain level of discomfort when doing things I like. But he always taught me that complete verbal communication is vital to suspension. So, I let him know, and we keep going, until it gets past a point where I’m alright with it, or a point when we feel it’s been tingly too long, or the pain starts to go in a not good way. With suspension, this can be a tricky line, especially with TKs. But we’ve also learned when just a finger slid under the line, or a movement of half an inch is all that is needed to relieve the pressure.

As was repeated often last weekend – suspension is not safe. We only can work to mitigate the risks as much as we can. Going forward, there is a new space we are working with. It has amazing potential. And for us, RACK, isn’t just about knowing there are risks, but making sure everyone is educated to what all the risks Are. Learning and teaching is a continuous process, each new tie, each new space, each new piece of gear, or rope, gives us something new to learn. And to share with others.

Wow, I’m rambling all over the place. 🙂 Let’s just end with – my life is amazing, rope is wonderful, and I am so incredibly grateful to everyone who is with me on this journey.

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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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Time to Fly

November 3rd, 2014

“If you want to go up Be here asap”

Two nights of Trauma, and one more to go. We’ve done over 250 scenes, we’ll do another 240 that night. And now he’s gotten access to the hight point. I scramble to get ready, my house guest is happy to drive me over. It has been so long since we’ve had a high point.

I arrive, to catch a few glimpses of the video taken of the engineer going up just moments before. Someone else has taken the stage, practicing for the night. I might not get to go. He unties her. I strip down, worried, by trying to hold on to hope.

He checks in with the guy in charge of the rig. No problem, just let him know. He starts tying me, and another group takes the stage. We’re running out of time. He’s apologizing, but still tying. They run their performance a couple times and then the stage is free.

He takes me up and I lie down under the point. Waiting as he goes to find the rigger. Still waiting. I look up and he is coming towards me, shaking his head. Can’t find him. Is he outside? He goes, tries again. Nothing. Gone, his camera is gone.

Disappointment threatens, but then he appears from the back. Relief. Something is wrong with a piece of the rig. I put my head down, waiting, hoping they’ll fix it or use the other one. They figure it out, and he joins me back on the stage.

“You okay, you sound emotional?”

I’m okay. I get to fly. Nerves running up and down, exhausted, of couse I’m emotional. He ties me in, and lifts me up. Way up. Gotta love pulleys. The rig feels good. A few false starts, but he tied it beautifully. Back down to a reachable height and locks it off. Time to fly.

He pushes me into the sky. I am free and flying. Wind rushing through my hair, ropes biting into my chest, hips, and thighs. It is glorious. Pushes me higher and higher. Oh, how I have missed this feeling. Nothing else matters in these moments, but him and me and the rope.

Now I am spinning, head curled in, focus on my belly. I haven’t forgotten the lessons, no matter how long it has been. And then he stops me short. Oh my, that still sucks. Offers to spin me the other way to unwind. No, no. Just one more big push and I’m done.

Flying high, enjoying the last taste of freedom. And then she is there, holding me steady while he lowers me down. He lets my lie as he unties, breathing heavily, all smiles. Thank you. Up to my knees for the hip harness. And then sit to bundle the rope. We have to go, get ready for the night. A big hug, kiss, and more thank yous. It was wonderful to fly again.

 

Trauma was pretty awesome, too. Nearly 500 scenes, and that was only cupping, electric, and corporal. We sent the rope all upstairs. We feared we would not have enough crew, cancels and three nights running. But we made it, even finished all our lists each night. Got to see some great performances. Dinner out with the family after Friday and Saturday. I had almost all good scenes with happy and reactive people. Even the skeptics were fun. Exhaustion ran rampant, but the energy of the event kept us going. I stress out about it every year, but this time, I’m happier afterwards than any other year. And not just because I got to fly. 🙂

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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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Floating and Tingly

November 21st, 2013

In the mood for rope, sure, we don’t mind. A nice dinner and head to practice.

Me first, I strip down to bra and panties (quickly pulled on under the skirt). Face up or down? Face up to float? Yeah, especially with all that dinner in me.

He starts the waist, checking the hips, double coin. It has been a long time, under and through. Hooks in repeatedly to make a thicker band in the back and back around. A couple tries to get the thighs smooth and low enough. 6mm keeps rolling over itself in my thighs.

People all around, grinning and chatting. Enjoying the rope, but not falling yet. Legs done, he stands. I put my hands on opposite shoulders to clear my chest for wraps but he shakes his head. Puts my hands behind my back. Everything bending alright? Yeah, that’s fine. Taka takote, or whatever. Not my favorite for suspension, my arms are so thin, but he wants to try something.

Wrists tied off, I shift for comfort. Around the arms, wriggle shift again. Lock off the bottom wraps. Good. Now what else to do. Over the shoulders? Across the chest? He tries a few things, but nothing looks quite the way he wants. Oh well. Wrap up the back to give me good support.

Ties the chest off to the ring, and I’m gone and down. Rubbing my face against the strands, floating, smelling. Caribiners through the leg wraps. Lift rope, takes a couple tries. Too far back at first, then further forward. Second lift and we’re good, ties me off and my arms start tingling almost instantly. Is it a problem? Nope, just letting you know.

Floating, flying, zoned. gently swinging, spinning ever so slowly. Just gone. Grabs a washcloth and ties a sling for my head. Moving the fingers of my right hand every so often, just to be sure I can. Grab his finger once. Floating, free. Lovely.

He pushes me a bit more, swinging and a slightly faster spin. I relax into it, not up for the super twirl. Loving the feel of the rope and the air, even the tingling. Head sling keeps slipping tiny bits, but not much. Happy, content, loved.

And now my hands aren’t working quite so well, time to come down. Head sling first, then legs. Oh gods, the blood flow back to the arms. Leaning my head into the ropes. Breathing, but it’s not enough. Light headed, can I please sit down. Please can I sit down. He unties as quick as he can, a quick safety lesson to the crowd about keeping the chest tied until last so the bottom can’t fall. And then he’s done and lets me go to the floor. Kneeling behind me, while I rest my head on my knees, untying my arms and letting them straighten. Pulls the harness over my head. Hands off the rope to the engineer to untangle.

Blood flow normalizes, breathing resumes regular pace. Much better. He pulls me back up to my knees by the hair, so he can finish untying my legs. Wraps the rope around my neck. Breaking the law, breaking the law. But only if it’s hot. Pulls it tight a moment grinning into my wide eyes and then tosses it to me to clean up. Thank you, Sir.

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I Made Stuff and Things

May 30th, 2013

No clear ideas, so, what’s been going on? Last night I made a 15ish foot piece of 8ish millimeter hemp rope, as well as four whip crackers – one thick yellow, and three thin pinks. It was craft night, and I actually participated and it was good fun. Others were making “pillow” floggers from thread and beating sticks from bundles of skewers, always a good time.

What else? Camping with the poly family and friends this past weekend. Getting accepted to grad school. Looking for a new place to live, and ways to cut expenses. Looking for a new job. And pondering the universe, as always. Topics that have recently crossed my mind: body image and clothing, collars and belonging, private time and scheduling, and erotica. I wrote the next month’s worth of Monday Morning Microgasms and scheduled them to post. I considered writing an erotica today, but my brain just isn’t in it. Summer is kicking in and it’s just so hot out and inside. I’ve got journals typed up and printed, and now I have a 3-hole punch so I can put them into binders and start going through things chronologically all together. I might still need to dig through email as well, but I’m closer anyway. COPE tickets are on sale this week, but I’ve officially decided to save that money for my trip to England next August.

Started watching some Star Trek TNG this evening when I found I could still access Netflix after all. Puts me in mind of embarrassing old fantasies. Fantasies of Riker, Wesley, Q… Not to mention playing off Q’s powers to send me back to live with the Newsies or the TMNT cast. Though, lately, I’ve found the Casey Jones character more interesting than the turtles themselves. I mean, he carries a cricket bat, FFS… Mmmmm cricket bats.

Anyway. Last week’s post should have been the 4th Anniversary post. This blog is now four years old, with over 320 posts, with 199 comments, and 421 pingbacks (thank you e[lust]). This site has had nearly 20,000 views, with the most views in one day being 120 on Monday April 16th, 2012. This was mostly people coming through the aforementioned e[lust] to read Special Request. A post which is the top viewed post on this site with nearly 1000 views all on its own. Followed closely by Tied up and Tossed in a Corner coming in just below 850 views. And my favorite stat to browse, the search terms that bring readers in. Topping the list, of course, is perverted imp, but following just behind are: “art or porn” and “clothespin zipper.” Oddly enough, this week, someone also came in with the search term “plastic shrews fiddle.” Why would you want one of plastic, I wonder?

So, happy anniversary dear readers, and many more to come.

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Face Down Floaty, for Old Time’s Sake

September 17th, 2012

Face up? Or face down? Nice and floaty for old time’s sake?

Face down, I reply nodding. I’m his third suspension of the evening, the other two were quite energetic, and time is running short on this night’s play party. I strip down to my shiny boots, it’s been a long time since he’s suspended me naked. Catacombs? No, I had panties then. Had he ever? I’m trying to remember if one of the nights with toy had me up and naked. He pulls me out of my thoughts. Wraps around the ribs, and tied off to the ring. Down to the waist, double coin, and I’m gone. Down in my head, in my body. Sunk deep into the rope, as he wraps my thighs. I worry I won’t be able to answer him when he puts me up, not sure I have control of my vocal cords. The biners are in, the lift ropes threaded and he lifts. Levels me out and it is good. He ties off my ankles. I’m able to answer, even ask him to run his fingers through the thigh ropes. So much more comfortable than my earlier scene, as it is meant to be. He ties a blindfold around my head, and I’m gone again.

Sinking into the ropes, floating in midair. I don’t know what order things happen in from here on out. I’m floating and he’s pushing me gently. Spinning a bit, slowly I think. And he’s hitting me gently. Shoulders, thighs, ass. I can’t tell what it is. A handle? Is he using the handle of a flogger? (I later learn it was his flashlight.) Walking with my as I spin to keep hitting the same spots. Am I spinning? I am not sure. I focus on my hands, so I don’t get dizzy.

Then he’s pushing me. High up into the air. Higher than I think the rig can go. I’m grinning and giggling. He is too. I move my arms, behind my back, across my chest, hanging down. Swinging and then spinning. A little too much, I don’t want to stop, I hold up a hand and he stops spinning and keeps on pushing. It feels wonderful. So wonderful, I reach for him. I want him. He turns me to him, my hands on his shoulders, gasping, heads together. Oh god, I can’t even describe the energy flowing between us. Almost done, I tell him, holding him tightly. I push up, relieving the pressure, two face-downs might have been a bad idea. Okay, yes, I’m done.

He’s up and untying, feet first, then lets down my legs, to my feet, blindfold off and I’m smiling at him, leaning into the rope. Arms wrapped around him. Thank you, so much. I float down slowly as he unties, handing off the ropes to the engineer. When he finishes, another tight hug and kiss. Thank you. Time to take are of him, we go back to the room.

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