Day Six – Weirdest Fantasy
January 6th, 2011
Describe your weirdest/most interesting sexual fantasy.
I had a lot of trouble with the words “weird” and “most interesting” while considering this question. Thought about a variety of angles and scenes and potential fantasies. Discarded some for not being all that weird after all. Discarded others for having been written about before. Wondered what would be “most” interesting of all the thoughts in my head. Then I remembered my Monday post. It seems these first few are building on each other.
My best friends and I used to look at each other randomly and pose the question “Jack or Spot?” In fact, a few weeks back, I got that in a text from one of them for no apparent reason. My answer was always Spot. Spot Conlon, head of the Brooklyn newsies, in Disney’s live action musical about the newsboys strike of 1899. Shorter than Jack, more wiry, but tougher and more feared than any other newsie in the city. And those eyes, clear and sharp.
So, my weirdest fantasy that still persists to this day? Being Spot Conlon’s girlfriend come submissive. I didn’t know the latter term when I was young, but all the fantasies hinted at that type of interaction. A look from him and I would immediately still, unable to move under his gaze. A pointed finger and I would stand where he directed. Any order, I would immediately follow. If I did something wrong, he’d put me over his knee right there on the docks in front of everyone. Spanking me by hand, with a belt or with his cane until I sobbed. As I grew up, the fantasies turned more sexual. He’d take me off the dock, to a private room in the back of a warehouse to put me over his knee, so he could toss me down and fuck me afterward. Even then, we tended to have an audience, a few newsies would follow to listen and make sure I was being punished.
Perhaps the weirdest part of the fantasy when I was younger, I’d incorporate Star Trek, the newsies either being a holodeck program, or a favor from Q, taking me back in time.
Day Four – Early Experiences
January 4th, 2011
Any early experiences that, in retrospect, hint at your kinks?
So, I brushed over some stuff in yesterday’s post. But let’s try for more specific things today.
I don’t remember how old I was anymore, somewhere in early grade school, I think. But I occasionally would try to get my friends to play make believe that involved spankings. Enacting The Little Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoe. Or playing school and getting in trouble. My friends were always more hesitant about such play.
In High School, things became more pronounced. Fantasies turned darker (the aforementioned monster under the bed). I read Wizard’s First Rule and was embarrassed that I was turned on by the Mord Sith.
There was some power exchange, too, but I didn’t know what it was at the time. He was an interesting guy. Testing me, poking me, challenging me. And I had a crush on him, so I let him. He taught me to be aware of his presence, even if I was walking the halls reading. Testing me by stepping suddenly in front of me, and expecting me to be aware enough to stop. He taught me to trust him, moving as if to strike, expecting me to hold completely still, trusting he would not ever connect. It’s hard to put into words, but I gave him a lot of control in my life, and as far as I can remember, he only abused it once. Fortunately, she forgave me and I never let him do that again.
Writing, Patience and Happiness
October 15th, 2010
I failed at the writing an extra post to make up for last week’s non-kinky post. I spend at least forty-five minutes every day, writing for him because I promised myself I would. Because I was having trouble communicating, and writing is the medium I feel most comfortable in, and I felt it would facilitate better communication over all. I think it does and I think it has, and so I keep my promise, to myself and to him, to write at least five hundred words every day. These writings are very personal, occasionally nonsensical, and include every day things and other people. Sometimes they are profound, sometimes they are flowery, and sometimes they are just as randomly off the wall as last week’s post on social networking. Some days I wish I could just get up in the morning and write all day, send him his words, send my other partners their own words, and write beautiful blog posts, and let the rest of the world just float by.
Complete Shibari: Land and Sky is quickly rising to be my most popular post. It only has thirty views and two posts to topple until it reaches number one. I really wish I’d done a far better job with that post. Maybe I’ll actually get the books during the holidays and work up a better review. It’s not terrible, especially as I’ve never written a book review in my life, but I feel it doesn’t do the works justice. I’m eagerly awaiting his third book(Stars) to be released, too.
So far this post isn’t any better than last week. I keep thinking if I just keep writing, it’ll get better, I’ll come up with something intelligent to say, some great topic to post on, something insightful at the very least. I was chatting with a friend of mine earlier, saying that “Jealousy, Neediness and all those other things you try to ignore” was probably not a coherent topic. Last week I was dealing with bits of jealousy popping up. But instead of dwelling on them and letting them rule me, I quickly recognized and squashed them. With logic and compersion. Jealousy is not something we can get rid of, it reminds us what is important, but controlling it instead of being controlled by it is the key.
This week, I’m dealing with neediness. I hate it when I feel needy. Of course, I need other people and need love and attention. Sometimes, though, I feel like the need consumes me and jumps up and down like a five year old shouting for attention. It doesn’t help that this is an incredibly inconvenient time for that to rear its head. Five year olds rarely care if the time is right or horribly, horribly wrong. So, logic and empathy to squash that for now. I have many ways to fill my needs, and patience will get me everything I need in plenty. As proof, I’ll end this post with a list of things from the last three weeks that made me happy:
Over the knee spankings
Oral sex wherever we happen to be
Sleeping in
Kneeling
Rope
Suspension
Sex
Simple goals
Achieving them
Boot blacking
Second chances
Plans
Acknowledgment
Service
Carrying and holding a drink in my open palm
Drumming with anything that comes to hand
The leatherman on my skin
Bruises
Seeing and helping with someone’s first suspension
Teaching and sharing the violet wands
Fantasies
Massage
Cuddling
Sleep
A phone call from far away
A latex skirt
A kiss on the forehead
Feeling protected
Latex panties
An unexpected spanking
A relaxing evening
A good discussion
Latex Fetish
August 19th, 2010
He likes latex, more than likes, drools over, pets, strokes, enjoys latex. We have window shopped latex for months. Last month, for my birthday, I bought three pieces (thanks Mom and Dad, and just keep thinking I bought work pants, okay?) – hot pants, a skirt a tank top with molded breasts. I wore the hot pants first, they were quite a hit, literally (wonderful spankings ensued). Latex makes a Lovely noise when smacked. The following weekend, the skirt and tank top. The skirt fits great, except I think I have it up a little too high, I have to fold or roll the top bit down just a little (but more wonderful spankings, and the air pocket added to the fun noises). More experimenting to figure out the best fit. The tank top… well, let’s just say, my breasts are not that shape and my torso not quite that long, so it was fairly awkward, though still quite shiny.
I had to learn a bit about latex care for these new items. Never having worried all that much about taking care of my clothes before, latex requires a bit of attention. I read up online and asked friends for suggestions. Ultimately, I went out and bought baby powder, baby shampoo and a silicone based lube. The baby powder helps in putting them on and staying comfortable in them as well as keeping them from sticking together when I store them. The baby shampoo was the recommended “mild soap” to wash them after wear and has worked quite well. The lube is used to shine them up once they’re on me. Being new to the latex fetish, I did not realize that it was generally dull, unless actively shined. The first two times they were worn, I shined them up with a soft cloth as one site suggested. But the third time, this past weekend, the skirt was just not shiny enough for him. So he told me to do it again, and when he saw I had a cloth, I could just about hear his eyes roll. “Use your hands.” I put the lube on my hands and rubbed it in for a Much better shine. As he pointed out, the cloth was absorbing more than it was transferring.
So, what’s next? I have come to really enjoy latex myself. He was right that I bought it for him and my gift was his happiness (the spankings are a good benefit, too). But I’m finding that I really enjoy wearing it. It makes me feel… shiny and sexy. I’m (window) shopping for more latex. I want more than just black for certain, but also more types of pieces. My first priority is a red (non-molded) top to go with the black bottom pieces. I am also thinking about gloves, though that might be tricky, I wouldn’t be able to do electric scenes wearing them. Stockings. I keep being told I need to get stockings. Right after which I’m told I need more appropriate footwear – high heels or shinier boots. So, having no fashion sense whatsoever, I’m thinking of: black high heels, red stockings, black skirt, red top, black gloves. Also, having no extra cash flow, this is just a dream for now, but it will hopefully become simply a goal in the near future. Then, on to other colors of the rainbow, or at least purple and blue.
Facing My Fears
August 5th, 2010
Phobia – an irrational, intense and persistent fear. I have three. Two have been tested recently. The third, needles, I am still working towards. Sparklers were used in the most recent scene. A snake was used some weeks ago. I knew these fears were strong, but I didn’t know how much.
The Snake
We were moving flats in the backyard. A small garter snake was curled up under one and I quickly moved away.
What’s wrong?
I pointed at it and he picks it up, bringing it towards me. I circle in the opposite direction, keeping the distance between us. He gets to where I was and looks up. Arms crossed, heart pounding, I grimace back at him. The snake is running through his gloved hands and he starts towards me again. I try to be still, but I keep backing up, whimpering and twitching my eyes between him and the ground.
Come here.
I shake my head, harder than my body already is.
Come here.
I whimper and take a step, but only one. He steps forward and I back.
Stop.
Another step towards me and I tense my whole body to stay still. Another step and my foot slides back.
Stop or I will throw it on you.
I force my foot a step towards him. Eyes tight to the ground, filling with tears. Overflowing as he walks towards me. Sobbing by the time he is beside me. But I stay still. Then he takes it away. He puts it near the woodpile. I calm some – enough to move the last flat to the pile. He frees me and checks in. With the snake gone, I can breathe again and the terror melts away.
The Sparklers
Stripped, handcuffed and tossed to the ground. Ankles tied together. Lover is counting and spanking and fucking.
I know you know the box score.
I cannot stop the laughter.
I know you are keeping track. At least the third box.
The laughter continues.
I know you are know the answer. At least a good guess. I have these sparklers here.
The flick of a lighter and I twitch away.
No.
The lighter flicks again.
They’re old. Might not light.
I writhe, trying to throw him off me.
No!
Yes, unless you know the number of 3′s.
I laugh again, desperation, now. More flicking of the lighter. I whimper and squirm. Lover has mercy.
How about a deal? Plus or minus two if you agree to sleep in your straitjacket with my cock in your mouth.
It won’t help. The straitjacket is okay.
Yes or no?
It won’t help.
Alright, how about plus or minus four? You’re a good guesser. I’m sure you have some idea.
My answer hasn’t changed.
Then I’ll just have to light the sparklers. Here, hold it for me.
Lover puts it in my cuffed hand. I writhe and try to let go, breaking it with my other hand to get it away. He plants it in the carpet in front of me.
Look at it. I’m going to light it if you don’t give me an answer.
No.
Lover pulls my head up, and I look at the sparkler.
Don’t burn my carpet.
Laughter, not mine this time.
What’s your answer?
It hasn’t changed. The straitjacket is okay, but it doesn’t matter, I don’t know.
I’ll have to light it then.
No.
He picks it up and flicks the lighter, while I squirm beneath him. The flare of the sparkler lighting and I scream and cry, face in the carpet. Trying to force him off my back, but helpless.
The sparks are dropping on you. In your hair.
No, no, no, no, no.
Fizz of water and it’s out. Gasping for air and shaking beneath him.
So? What’s your answer?
It hasn’t changed. It doesn’t matter, I don’t know the number.
Another one then?
No!
Yes, or agree to the deal?
It doesn’t matter.
The flick of the lighter and the second is burning above me. Lower this time the sparks hitting my bare flesh. Hands brushing at the sparks. Sobbing into the carpet. Struggling to get away, to not get burned as he tells me where they are falling. Sizzle and it is out. Lover lets me sob for a little while, until I can breathe and speak again.
So, what’s your answer, or do I light another one. I have four more.
No. Sure. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.
Are you agreeing? Agreement needs to come with a number.
Sure. 60.
Oh, very good. Good girl. Very good girl. If you had guessed just a little higher…
Thank you, Sir.
Fears faced, but not diminished. The terror is still there, deeply there. I have faced them and sobbed my eyes out. I have faced them and been overwhelmed. I have faced them and surrendered. But facing them has not made them less.
Turn Ons
July 1st, 2010
A short post today. It’s been a busy week and I have more things still to do.
What turns me on? I’ve posted about my fantasies. I’ve posted about my kinks. But what really turns me on? The simple things. What gets me going?
A deep kiss, full of passion.
The joy in his eyes and the smile on his lips.
A tight grip on my hair, right against the back of my head.
Light sucking and nibbling on my earlobes.
Harsh bites on my neck; inner wrists, elbows and thighs.
Hard pinching of my nipples.
Hard rubbing and sucking on my clit.
Naked bodies pressed together.
Sucking on a cock.
Open hand spanking on my bare ass.
A knife blade on my skin.
The smell of hemp and leather.
Rope holding me tight.
Pain coursing through my body.
Fear rumbling in my chest.
Giving up control, giving up completely.
What Turns You On?
April 15th, 2010
I often think of this question in terms of the physical. What can he DO to turn me on? This is often the easy answer, the safe answer. It involves the surface of my being. Often it involves involuntary physical reactions. Kissing, licking, sucking, touching, groping – these things are meant to turn us on. Spanking, pinching, biting, paddling, caning, whipping, squeezing, grabbing, holding, restraining – these things turn on a masochist, it is no secret.
But what about mentally,what about my fantasies, what do I think about to get turned on? This is more risky territory. These are things that aren’t straight forward, are more vulnerable and personal. Not that I think my fantasies are unique to me, if you can imagine it, you can find it on the internet, after all. But to offer my thoughts and my mind has always been riskier than offering my body. The hurt when my thoughts are rejected is far higher than when my physical desires are rejected.
So, what are my fantasies? What are my daydreams? What do I think about to get turned on?
School girl. Kidnap victim. Slave girl. Are my top three.
1)School girl. Typical short skirt, white panties, button up top. It always involves getting in trouble and being made to bend over a desk for a spanking or paddling. It then generally devolves into sex on the desk. Sometimes it begins by being caught having sex on school grounds. Sometimes it involves bad grades or incomplete assignments, and trying to trade favors for good grades.
2)Kidnap victim. Blindfold, duct tape, handcuffs, rope, being driven off in the back of a van. Stripped naked, threat of violence for noncompliance. Photos or video taken as blackmail. Forced to pose or perform sexual acts seemingly willingly for the camera.
3)Slave girl. Collar, shackles, little else. Taught to please and serve. Often involves being raised specifically for this purpose and and may start with meeting the one I was raised to serve, or being shown and tested to find a buyer. Occasionally, involves being taken prisoner and forced into slavery for a more rebellious and discipline oriented fantasy.
So, what turns you on?
Erotic Shorts
October 7th, 2009
—–
Bullet
—–
She felt his hand in her pocket, turning up he dial as she lined up her next shot. Her breath quickened as the little bullet sprang to life in her panties. She barely noticed that her shot went wide and the cue-ball didn’t hit a single thing as she handed off the stick to her partner.
“You missed,” he said, pulling her against his leg, pressing the little vibrator tighter against her clit.
“Umhmm.” She mumbled.
“Stay in control, little one. You have to be ready for me later.” He kissed her tenderly, turning it down just a bit. “Wouldn’t want to distract you from the game.”
—–
Arrest
—–
“Stop right there. Drop your purse and put your hands on the hood of the car.”
She didn’t turn, there was no need, the voice and the tone were unmistakable. She pulled her purse off her shoulder and let it slip to the ground. Taking a step sideways, she put her hands on the top of the hood. She didn’t bother to ask what she’d done, it hardly mattered at this point.
“Spread your feet apart and then hold still. I’m going to search you.”
He waited for compliance and began to pat her down. She was not surprised when he roughly squeezed her breasts and massaged her ass. Then she felt him kneel down behind her as he made a thorough search of her panties and stockings. As he stood back up, he gave her crotch one last grope that made her gasp softly.
“Hands behind your back, we’re going for a little ride.”
—–
Hair
—–
His fingers slipped up the back of her neck and entwined themselves tightly in her hair. He pulled her slowly toward his mouth, feeling a shiver run through her body.
“Behave yourself, little one.” He whispered against her throat. “or I might put you over my knee right here.”
“Master, please, you wouldn’t…” she stiffened and caught a moan behind her teeth as he bit a taut tendon in her neck. “I… I’m sorry, Master. I’ll be good.” She gasped as he release her with a single swat on the ass.
“You better, little one. I’ve always wanted to spank you in public.” He grinned at her shiver and lowered eyes.
—–
Bite
—–
She stood blindfolded at the foot of their bed, listening and feeling him moving around her. He slowly stripped away her clothing, running light fingertips over her skin. She smiled and shivered at his touch.
When they were both naked, he slipped behind her. One hand brushed her hair back, away from her right shoulder and then slipped around her waist. His left hand slipped around her shoulders, over her forehead, to catch a nice handful of hair on the top of her head. He pulled her head firmly to the side as he kissed her throat. She squirmed back against him and froze for just an instant as his teeth sank into her neck. Then she moaned with pleasure as he bit deeper and sucked hard on her flesh.
—–
Spank
—–
“You’ve been naughty, little one.” He ran his hand over her bare back, bending her over the end of the bed. “You disobeyed your Master.” He dragged the leather slapper over her pale ass cheeks.
“Yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master.” She shivered at his touch, anticipation of punishment tensing every muscle.
“Too late, little one.” He punctuated this with a sharp slap on her backside.
“Yes, Master,” she gasped, “thank you, Master.”
He stroked the reddened flesh with leather a moment, enjoying watching her squirm. Then he brought it to bear on the other cheek.
“Thank you, Master.” She moaned as he struck her ass again. “Thank you, Master.”
He smiled behind her, watching her ass grow red, enjoying every gasp and groan and Master that came from her lips. “Such a good little naughty slave you are.”
—–
Collar
—–
“You have much to learn.” He stood over her kneeling form. “But if you work hard, I think we will both be very happy.”
She nodded silently, unable to pull her eyes from the bag at his feet. It was from their favorite toy shop, and the outline of the sagging plastic clearly showed a collar within. She could barely breathe through her excitement at the prospect of finally earning her collar. So much so that she hardly heard him speaking again.
“…at any time, any place. “ He watched her, knowing it was the bag that had her attention and not his voice. “You will learn to be a proper slave to your Master without losing your self to the role.”
“Yes, Master.” She replied, her mind reengaging at the key words of ‘slave’ and ‘Master.’ “Thank you, Master.”
“Good, my little one, now go get dressed, we’re going out for dinner.” He pulled her to her feet and kissed her tenderly. “I love you.”