Politics and Fun

July 5th, 2014

The courts are playing my ‘favorite’ game these days – one step forward, two steps back. Lots of striking down of gay marriage bans – yay. But then the SCOOTUS decided to step on women’s rights and men’s, too for that matter. Contraception affects men as well as women, though I’d argue it’s a bigger health issue for women, as one who doesn’t use it for birth control, but for better health myself.

They’ve also make it a religious freedom issue, too. I think it really ought to be freedom from religion, myself, instead of freedom of religion. Freedom to have our laws have nothing to do with religion, other than to allow people to privately practice whatever religion they want, without harming others. Yes, denying health coverage of other people based on your religion, is harmful.

Yesterday, on Independence Day, a coworker of mine was going off about how unpatriotic he feels, and how messed up he thinks this country is. I know we’ve got problems, we’ve all got problems, but I am glad to be an American. For a lot of reasons, but the biggest one being that we have a participatory government where people can work towards the changes they wish to see in the world.

Weeee! Political blogging. Okay, done now.

 

Had a great time the other night, playing around at the bar. Came home with pretty bruises and fun, spoon-shaped marks. This is what happens when crew gets bored. 🙂 Also played with toothpicks earlier this week – fun times.

Looking forward cautiously and hopefully. Getting ideas of things I want to do, so I can start asking for them soon. And sorting out getting to do them, as time and space allows. Not a whole lot of either of those things, so patience and more patience, as always.

Watched fireworks in a videogame for the 4th, but therefore also avoided children running around with sparklers. Had enough sparkler “fun” when camping a few weeks back, as he chased me around the field while everyone else played at the bonfire. Fairly sure most of the crowd had no idea what was going on.

While camping, there was also an amusing conversation about “how would you, while continuously moving, facilitate a blow job while on your way to the car?” The group was creative, but not a lot of D/s or sadomasochists in the group, so when my answer of “on your knees…” didn’t go over well, I realized they wanted it to be comfortable for all involved parties. I did not, therefore, give my answer of, or offer to demonstrate, “grab her by the hair, bend her over, and just keep walking, what’s the problem?” It might not get you the Best blowjob ever, but it seemed fairly simple to me. They all wanted carts, or dollies, or gurneys – anything with wheels to make it a smooth ride.

Anyway, hope everyone is having a good holiday weekend. Happy Independence Day/Weekend!

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4th of July

July 4th, 2013

“Fuck you!”

She stumbled backward, away from the sparkler he was holding out towards her.

“Careful…” he warned and she glanced around.

“Fuck you all!”

She was surrounded by sparklers, waving through the dark night, spewing fiery bits into the air. She spun around, looking for a hole in the circle, but they each had two and there was no gap.

“Get the fuck away from me!”

“Language, my dear, such foul language.”

She turned back to face him. Rage and fear warring for dominance made for an interesting glare being cast his way.

“I.. just… oh!” She couldn’t figure out a sentence in that moment that didn’t involve swearing, so she clenched her fists and closed her eyes.

“No,” he replied. “You will keep your eyes open and your tongue civil.”

“I don’t think I can do both… sir.” She shook her head and the shaking went down to her toes.

“Open your eyes.”

She stared at the ground, but it didn’t help, the sparks were falling all around her, peripheral vision be damned. She held her breath, mouthing silently; fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Look at me.”

She shook her head again and he repeated the command. Clenching her fists, she lifted her chin, afraid he would step closer if she didn’t.

“Shit!”

She stepped back, he was closer, but so was the person behind her. She startled and spun and stumbled, trying to center herself in the shrinking circle of sparklers.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

“STOP.”

It wasn’t a shout, he didn’t shout. But it was the Dom voice and she froze, dropped her head and stared determinedly at the ground, gasping for breath, fists tight by her thighs, tears starting to drip down her cheeks. She stared at her feet, willing them to be still, even as her head twitched this way and that and her shoulders hunched up around her ears.

“Breathe slower. Control yourself,” he ordered.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking control, counting her breath. Six in, six out, six in, six out. And opened her eyes again, tears still leaking out.

“Raise your head.”

She summoned all her will and lifted her head once more. They were all right around her, and as she looked up into his eyes, they all brought their sparklers up over her, sparks showering down.

She screamed wordlessly and fell to the ground, into a tiny ball of terror, tears and inarticulate sound.

The sparklers burnt themselves out and the sparks stopped falling. He knelt down beside her and scooped her up in his arms, the others drifting away.

“Good girl. You did a very good job.”

He held her to his chest while she sobbed herself out; twitching and shaking long gone sparks from her hair and clothes. He handed her a bottle of water, she took a sip and then dumped the rest over her head.

“You’re alright, you did a good job, I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, sir. Also, fuck you, sir.”

He grinned and kissed her wet face.

“You’re welcome.”

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Loud and Sparkling

July 5th, 2012

It’s a rambly day I think. I’m on vacation with hubby, back to his hometown. Back to being quiet and hiding. Not because I have to be quiet here, but because I am. Because everyone talks loudly and at length, and I mostly just listen. We’ve been gone five years, there’s a lot to say, I guess.

Hiding? Well, I’ll have to on the vacation to see my family, too. No telling the parents the truth. No mentioning my boyfriend or his girlfriend around the family, though hubby did mention rope work, and suspension to MIL, she didn’t seem sure what to make of it. She has recently read the 50 Shades books, and liked them, but “would not want that to happen to” her. I haven’t read them, but seems to me, the lady made the choice to do those things, they didn’t just “happen to” her, but I digress, and don’t actually know. Though, I feel like I ought to read them, just for blog’s sake if nothing else.

In other big news, our club has closed. So, our Saturday weekly venue is gone. That sucks, but we shall persevere, and actually get to go to community events on Saturdays for a while, not to mention it’ll make summer planning a bit easier. Looking forward to what’s next, as well, whatever it may be.

Brain’s all swirly, and dreams have been matching it. Snakes, crocodiles, non-con knife play, seduction, and electric play. In one dream, I actually told the guy who’d cut the fuck out of my back and legs and pushed me into a pool with a crocodile, that blood play was against my hard limits. Apparently I didn’t mind the hungry croc in the bottom of the pool so much as the fact he wasn’t allowed to cross my hard limits with blood.

The engineer sent me a lovely link for the 4th from FL, of a girl covered in patriotic needle play with sparklers attached to the cross she was leaning against. It was quite pretty, but like the fireworks last night, much better viewed from a distance. I was not happy about the loud explosions and showers of sparks from the drunks lighting illegal fireworks off a nearby roof. Even if none of the sparks reached the ground lit. I could hear some of the bits landing nearby. The legal show down the road was pretty, once we figured out how to see it.

Pulled together all the MDQ Issue 3 articles this week, too. So that’s off to my editor a few days early. Gotta put the photos in and everything still, but it’s nearly ready. Then it’s time to finalize the details for the fourth issue. COPE here I come. 😉

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Masochist Brain

September 30th, 2011

So, Thursday’s story sent my brain off into more dark directions. It decided I was being too nice. That scene was made up of things I would do and enjoy (for the most part). My brain decided That for better fear and helplessness, the bondage chair should be removed. That somehow, the girl should be suspended in the air, touching as little as possible, but without the restraints causing undo strain or sensation. I ran through several scenarios, even drawing some out, until I decided the best I could come up with (between helping customers at work, I haven’t stopped thinking), was to tie someone standing up, spread eagle in the center of the room.

The blindfold stays, but not the headphones. For the specific reason that all the tortures needed to be upgraded. And all the upgrades required sound to have the greatest impact. Instead of the TENs, start with an electric flyswatter. The high pitched whine of its charging, and sudden jolting shocks. Move on to a stun gun instead of a violet wand. The crackling sound can make me cry faster than the pain it inflicts. The clothespin zippers being replaced by a dragontail or single tail. The crack makes me twitch even when it’s used on someone else. The final straw – well, needles terrify me, sure enough, hard to top that. But if we’re going for sounds, it would have to be sparklers.

Ah, the brain of a masochist. It also pondered a snake to top it off, they hiss and all. But then the animal brain kicks in, forgets it’s a fantasy and says, no way, that’s just too much at the end of a hard scene. And tosses the masochist in a cage.

She just tried to escape again. Talking to toy about make up and it being too messy. Masochist brain tried to grab that and run off to design an torturously gooey scene with my dislike of messiness. I quickly slammed the cage shut and decided to write this to keep it quiet.

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Day One – Define Your Kinky Self

January 1st, 2011

To start the New Year, I am going to attempt the meme: 30 Days of Kink. This is Day One, that I wrote as a guest post for Insatiable Desire.

Dom, sub, switch? What parts of BDSM interest you? Give us an interesting in-depth definition of what that means to you. Basically define your kinky self for us.

The first question seems simple. The second question leaves things far more wide open. The third asks for specifics. And the last oversimplifies the whole thing. Defining oneself is an ongoing process made up of all the other questions. So, one at a time, shall we?

Dom, sub, switch? Sub. I am a submissive in my kinky journey. I am submissive to my partners to varying degrees. I relish giving control to those I love and trust. I have no desire to be dominant. I have no desire to take control in a kinky setting. I do provide service topping for electric scenes, but even then, I am in the role of pleasing the person I am working on, providing for what they want.

What parts of BDSM interest you? Well, let’s break down that acornym. Bondage – yes. I enjoy bondage in rope, leather, chains, canvas, plastic, tape, and mental bondage. Discipline – yes. I enjoy having rules and penalties for breaking said rules. Dominance – yes. Submission – yes. As I said, I am submissive and enjoy giving control up to the dominants in my life. Sadism – yes. Masochism – yes. I am a masochist, and enjoy the sadistic tendencies of my partners. So, all parts of BDSM interest me in the very narrow definition of each of those letters, but let’s move on to more specifics.

Give us an interesting in depth definition of what that means to you. BDSM, to me, means exploration. It means pushing and learning and sharing and teaching. It means spending hours in ropes and straitjackets. It means nipple clamps and clothes pins. It means floggers and paddles and canes and drumsticks. It means blindfolds and hoods and collars and shackles. It means knives and needles and sparklers and snakes. It means single tails and dragon tails and stun guns and violet wands. It means giving up control of my body and my mind. It means kneeling for half an hour every day. It means standing back up after every strike that knocks me to my knees. It means relaxing in a cocoon of duct tape and saran wrap. It means pinches and smacks and slaps and bites and punches and kicks. It means cuts and bruises and scabs and scars. It means screams and tears and squeaks and laughter. It means massages and boot blacking and taking care of his gear. It means love and joy and connection. It means experiences so wonderful, awesome and intense that there are not enough words to express them. And it means trying anyway, because it is too important not to share.

Basically define your kinky self for us. I am kinky, submissive, polyamorous, a pain slut, a rope slut, a slave, a brat, a smart-assed masochist, a bottom, a service top and a service submissive.

My 30 Days of Kink

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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.

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