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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Not Just a Masochist

November 7th, 2016

I’ve talked about my masochism many times before. About how it’s not just about pain, but “intense sensation.” Especially controlled, intentional, intense sensation. I’ve talked about my RA, and how that pain is unwelcome, unsexy, and uncontrolled. I’ve talked about pleasurable stimuli, as well as painful stimuli.

Sometimes, though, it doesn’t even have to be intense. Light fingertips on my skin. Warm hands stroking my body. Whispers of breath on my neck. Lube rubbed over latex clothing. Rope pulled across skin, or wrapped around limbs. I like sensations.

But not just sensations. I, like most people, am far more complex than a single kink, or even two, or three.

I like power exchange. The way he can just look and point. Or grab me by the hair. Or smack my face. And I’m there, reeling into subspace.

I like roleplay. School girl, vampire, predator/prey. Fulfilling deep hidden desires as someone, something, else.

I like sex. Teasing, toying, hands, mouths, bodies, hours long sex.

I like bondage. Take down ties, corsets and clothing, prisoner ties, eeling, transitions, suspensions, flying, experimentation, encasement. With leather, metal, ropes, saran wrap, duct tape.

I like fear. Playing with breath play, needles, stun guns, sparklers.

And many more.

Sure, some of these things have the intensity in them, too. Though, not all, not always. Sometimes it’s about relaxing, spacing out. Letting go of the “real world” and delving into yourself, or each other. Making those connections that keep us grounded, secure, and happy. Or making connections that send us soaring into the sky, if only in those moments.

There’s no reason in this world to be just one thing. Be everything you want to be, everything you can dream.

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Jessica Jones and Choice (Spoilers)

November 26th, 2015

Jessica Jones – Netflix’s newest Marvel Superhero show. 13 episodes all released at once.

(Possible Spoilers Ahead)

The guys had showed the preview at gaming. They’d talked about the back story. Friends had posted Trigger Warnings as well as praise for it on FB. I knew what I was getting into. On the surface.

I don’t suffer from PTSD. I haven’t had a traumatic past. For those that do and have, I imagine JJ would be quite the challenge to think about, let alone watch. I didn’t see any reason why it should bother me at all. Other than on the surface.

I identify as submissive. I enjoy power exchange from the giving up control side. I fetishize being under someone else’s complete control. I have a con-non-con rape fetish. I like being told what to do. I like the thought of being used. I’ve not been careful about my boundaries in the past.

JJ was a different kind of mindfuck for me. Watching the effect of complete control wielded by someone without a conscience. Watching the effect it had on the survivors. Watching her do what he said without him exerting the mental control. Shouting at the TV not to do it, he didn’t control her anymore. But she’s a hero, so she had to, to save the other people.

It churned up some stuff inside me. Doubt, disgust, fear. Why did I want those things? Was I so weak willed that I wanted someone else to control me? Do I not have any self-respect? What if I ran into a guy like that (not super, but charming, controlling, abusive)? Hadn’t I already let a few guys do that to me? Not to that extent of course. Remember the one who convinced you to lie to your best friend? Remember the ones that had you do things you didn’t want to do? Remember thinking you were not worthy of boundaries? Could that all happen again?

(Definite Spoilers Ahead) Read the rest of this entry »

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Discovery

December 28th, 2014

I’m 34 years old and I’ve just realized something new about myself. And I’ve always had a particularly odd kidnap fantasy. But I never really thought about it. A guy once told me it wasn’t sexual enough, or some such thing. And I shrugged, to each his own, but I still didn’t think about it. Yeah, I like the kidnap thing, the capture and bound thing. The stockholm syndrome thing. The rapey bits, too.

But there is something else about it, that I think is odd. Perhaps it isn’t, I don’t know, I don’t really talk to other girls about their fantasies. But I was running it in my head again this weekend. And a lightbulb went off, as my brain went back to my post about Titanic. I said it was the drawing scene that got me, but I didn’t really explain. At the time, I just thought, ya know, it’s really sexy to pose naked for an artist to draw, especially if you’re attracted to that artist. It’s a small scale power exchange.

But this weekend, I began to think on it more. My kidnap fantasies always include being forced to pose for a camera – pictures or video that the kidnappers are assumedly putting on the internet. Now, in the past, I have stopped working with a photographer whose aim was a pay to view site, not wanting to be a “porn star” and have rejected offers to be on clips for sale sites. But this fantasy, it’s about being forced, about the power being taken away from me.

I have always had the school girl fantasies, being told I’m a naughty girl and ought to be punished turns me on. So, I think this plays into that, too. Doing something naughty, dirty, and being forced to do it, under threat of violence. I long ago stopped trying to answer people asking, why do you like that, if they cannot understand. The simple answer is, because it turns me on.

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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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Blossoming Submission

September 27th, 2012

I don’t think I did justice to the topic of my journey into submission in my long rambling post. Not sure I really did justice to any of the topics I covered, but this one struck me especially. I talked more about my development over the last few years, mixed with a few popular questions of the day, around the cyclical nature of D/s and how a strong woman can be submissive. All those thoughts about control came much later, when I finally got the language for it. But how, exactly, did the submissive grow within me to start with?

Early desires, and my most guilty pleasures, revolve around over the knee spankings. I don’t know why this came about, but it started as early as grade school with an unhealthy(or so I thought) enjoyment of the poem The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe. And in middle school blossomed into school girl fantasies that I very much enjoy to this day. With stops along the way to incorporate a Newsie spanking fantasy or two, as well.

This is where my submissive side started. A desire to bend, or be bent by, a person of authority. I was a good girl, I didn’t like causing real trouble, never got a detention, though I came close once, only got grounded once, I don’t even remember ever being spanked as punishment, though I’m sure I was when I was very young. But in these fantasies, I would get into mild trouble, and the person punishing me wouldn’t actually be angry, they’d simply be teaching me a lesson, usually in private. Punishing me for being “bad” or “naughty,” but without the public humiliation of being paddled in front of class, or others. And after I became a bit more sexually mature, I would always thank them for this lesson.

In grade school, we had a hierarchy among my friends. The one at the top of the pyramid could still the rest of us with a look, and usually a smile. I never wanted this power, but I certainly respected it. And fantasied about it. To be quelled and cowed with just a look. It made me shiver, it aroused me. It took me years to understand why. We gave him that control, and he used it, without abusing it, so he got to keep it. He ruled our part of the playground, but he was always kind and always fair. He took care of us, so we followed him. That exchange of power, so simple on the playground, and so much more powerful in a relationship, has always thrilled me. And for those who can express it with just a look, it still makes me shiver and smile.

I comment in the long rambling piece about meeting “strong men,” but what I really meant was strong dominants. Men can be strong without being sexually/kinkily dominant. And I met a woman, as well, who fit this role. I had a few boyfriends that were tops – we played physically, the only power exchange being that I was physically submitting to having things done to me. Usually things like biting, spanking, pinching, pressure points.

Then I met a couple of friends online, who, when they were dating, adopted me in a non-kinky RPG we were all playing. I still call him Daddy, or my Aussie Daddy, to this day, though it never was kink-related. When I lived with him for a (US) summer/(Australian) winter, he preferred Sir in our play. They taught me about what power exchange really felt like. I loved it, though many will say online isn’t the real thing, it was where I was first able to explore it. And explore it I did, in role play, in cybersex chats, in long-distance telephone calls. When I went to Australia, Daddy wasn’t active in the community, but we made the best of our time together. Our kink relationship was mostly physical, but I also enjoyed the bits of D/s we tossed in here and there, as well.

It was a long while before I found that again. Hubby, a sensualist, enjoyed the physical play I asked for, but D/s was not something we managed to figure out on our own. When we found the community, our explorations took different paths, as I found two dominant men that I was drawn to, and he found his own path to kink.

This blog tells the story of my journey since then, for the most part. Exploring different types of D/s and the different ways to submit and serve, learning about taking and giving control. I have tripped and fallen many times. I have had high expectations, and been crushed by reality. I have lost sight of the path and been shown the way back. I have run headlong into the darkness, and survived the fall. I have been taught, guided, chided and chastised. I have been cared for, comforted, crushed and rebuilt. I have been programmed and reprogrammed. I have experienced amazing scenes, awesome service, and incredible love, trust and understanding. Submission has always been inside of me, and these last four years have made it a rich part of my life.

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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.

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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.

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Power vs. Control

August 18th, 2011

A friend on FetLife asked: in the context of BDSM and/or TPE relationships, what do you think is the difference between the concepts of “power” and “control”? I find this a very interesting question, and I’m going to try and wrap my brain, and my typing fingers around it today.

Let’s start with the basics of the question: power and control. Dictionary.com has this to say about power: “1. ability to do or act; capability of doing or accomplishing something. 3. great or marked ability to do or act; strength; might; force. 4. the possession of control or command over others; authority; ascendancy: power over men’s minds.” (Numbers 2 and 5 were political in nature.) And this to say about control: “6. the act or power of controlling; regulation; domination or command: Who’s in control here? 7. the situation of being under the regulation, domination, or command of another: The car is out of control. 8. check or restraint: Her anger is under control.“ To start, it lists power as the ability(normal or great) to do something. Then goes on to suggest you must have power to have control. Control, by direct definition here, seems to be more about an act than an ability, something you do, rather than something you have. The dictionary listed noun first for power, and verb first for control, though I have copied in the noun definitions for both.

How does this compare to BDSM, and in particular, my experiences with these concepts?

My first instinct is to say that power and control are the same thing. If you give someone power over you, you are giving them control over you. If you are in a power exchange, then you are giving up/receiving control. But I think this is using narrow, singular definitions of these terms.

Another way to look at control, is self-control, inner control. I would not give power to someone who is not in control. In this case, control is required to have a power exchange. I require a person to have control before they have power over me.

If we look at the first two definitions of power, we find another interesting discussion. The ability to do or accomplish something. Having the power or ability to do something would be necessary if I’m going to ask it of that person. So, from this side of things, the person would have to have the power in order for me to offer them control.

But are both things necessary and always in the same amounts? Does an offering of power always mean an offering of control or visa versa?

There are always degrees. I don’t give the same amounts or types of power and control to everyone I play with. In fact, they all get different amounts of both. The other generally got physical control, but only on rare occasions did he achieve mental control. He, on the other hand, has mental control, and physical control simply follows. Power is trickier, and I go back to my original posit that they are the same in this context, but it just doesn’t fit quite as nicely as all that. My partners have different powers, different abilities. And different powers over me, sometimes intermixed with control, and sometimes a quality of our relationship or history.

So, I agree with the dictionary. Power is something you have, whereas control is something you do. Power is your ability, learned or intrinsic, and your strength of mind and body. Control, however, for me, is actively given and received, and actively exercised.

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Rope Scenes

July 14th, 2011

I’ve posted a lot about rope. About why I like it, what I like about it, about scenes I’ve had with it, about buying it, about learning to tie it. There have been a lot of classes on rope lately, with more coming up, especially at COPE in September. The most recent was on Eeling. And he said he learned more about me by attending than about the subject, because he and I don’t play like that. Way back when we first met, he challenged me to get out of a tie, but not since. Our scenes are about other things that escape. So, it brought to mind today, what kinds of rope scenes are there, what kinds do I enjoy, and what do I get out of the different kinds?

Suspension is one, well, two really. There are high-flying suspensions, and there are static.

High-flying suspensions I have written about a few times, describing particular scenes or the freedom in it. The care for comfort of the tie, and the attention to detail of the rigging are very important. Swinging from a point 15-20′ in the air by thin ropes tied around the body is a feeling like no other I’ve ever experienced. We compare it to a swing set of childhood, or a roller coaster ride. But it is so much more than the first, and so much more sensual than the second. It is about trust and control. Giving it all to the person tying and flying you. One mistake and bad things could happen. But when it’s done right, with care and attention. The energy, the joy, the sense of freedom, is incredible. The dizziness from spinning well worth the feeling of the spin. The rope marks can last for days, bright red lines where the ropes lay, holding you in the sky. And for me, the scene doesn’t end when I’m back on the ground. I float as he unties, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, leaving burns with the lines. And then I sink back down to earth, surrounded by the rope, coiling it up, breathing it in. Landing mentally, only when it is all put away again.

Static suspensions share a lot of the same sensations and feelings with high-flying ones. But they tend to be more sensual for me. More about the rope touching and holding. More about the feel of him close to me, often playing with me while I’m suspended. Static lends to deeper space, less wide-eyed excitement. I sink into rope space whenever I am tied, but when left to hang in it, my mind sinks deeper into my body. Feeling everything. And floats out to him, feeling the energy and the exchange.

A similar state is achieved through floor scenes. When he ties me, not to a suspension point, but into a ball, or a hog-tie or some such, self-contained tie. These, though, have me grounded, literally, and mentally. I am not floating away, finding the freedom of being suspended. I am tied into myself, molded into the shape he wishes. I am made vulnerable in a completely different way. No longer is my life hanging by a thread, but rather, I am at his mercy. I am where and what he wants me to be. I am bound and helpless, and available for whatever he wants to do, with less safety concerns to distract. (Yes, there are always safety concerns, but not maintaining steady breathing, or a numb limb isn’t going to end a ground scene nearly as quickly as a suspension.) Floor scenes can be as simple as tying and leaving to melt, whether in a ball on the floor, or walking around with just the upper body bound. Or tying and then tormenting – whips, floggers, paddles, pinches, nipple clamps, tickling, what have you. A fully sensual and power exchange scene for me.

Coming off floor scenes, there are bed scenes. Tied down to a bed, for sex and torment. To be tied completely open and vulnerable. These have a different feel from ground scenes, for various reasons. One, obviously, if the intent is sex, is quite a bit different than the above feelings. But the other, for torment, is still different, too. Tied in a ground tie, immobilized and tormented is one thing. Often you can’t see what’s coming, or you can curl and squirm at the very least. Tied out spread eagle, unable to even pretend you can protect or defend yourself. Waiting, watching, often enduring torment that you can do nothing about. It is a similar, but uniquely delicious space. For me, there is far less sinking into the rope in these scenes. Sometimes I use pulling on the rope to process the pain, or as a focus point, but these scenes do not take me to rope space nearly as much as a ground tie.

The last type, I want to talk about is what sparked this post. Eeling. Getting out of the rope you were put in. I used to do this type of scene with the other a lot, or folks on the crew, just playing around when we were bored. See how long it took to escape a particular tie. Or tie myself up so the other could watch me escape. Or be tied up and left to escape on my own. Or one particular friend like to keep adding rope as I would untie the first few. These were interesting scenes for me. Scenes of challenge. I like challenges, challenging myself, being challenged. The ties were puzzles to be solved. And learned from. I love learning, too. I started learning suspension ties by untying them. I learned a lot about floor and bed ties by untying myself. There was discussion about what about eeling turns eels on, and about the rollercoaster that eeling scenes can be. For me – the joy of being tied, the thrill of the challenge set before me, the frustration of a difficult (or improbable to escape) tie, the thrill of getting a knot undone or getting some slack, the frustration that it did no good, continuing on to either end with the satisfaction of escaping, or the arousal of surrender. These scenes can be very tricky. The frustration can overwhelm, or the eel can cause themselves physical injury, or panic can set in (especially when combined with abandonment). But if the balance can be maintained, the frustration can be channeled and the panic controlled, and injury avoided, I enjoy these scenes very much if it is what the top is also after. I am not one to get out of any rope put on me just to see if I can. I like being in it far too much for that.

Are there any other types you enjoy? Do you have a favorite? What about the different types do you like?

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