May 2nd, 2013
There is something growling inside her tonight. She’s looking for a fight. Not an argument, not to win, she just wants to fight, to struggle, and to be beaten down, held down, forced to surrender.
He sees the gleam in her eyes, the set of her jaw. He can sense the tightness in her body, as she comes to the bedside. Usually, he would just point to the floor and she would kneel and relax, but he knows that isn’t going to work tonight.
He grabs her roughly by the hair, fingers tight against her skull and forces her down to the floor. He gauges her resistance by her hands on his, instead of in her lap, the tension in her neck, and then he pulls her back up and shoves her onto the bed. Usually, she would stay where he put her.
Tonight, she scrambles up onto the bed and turns to face him. He glances down at his toybag, considering his options. Rope. Metal. Canvas. Clamps. Gag. Hood. Tape. One step at a time, he scoops up the handcuffs.
He grabs her arm and snaps one cuff on before she can pull away. Now she does, but he is stronger, holding the captured limb, while he tries to grab the other. She squirms and holds it out as far away as she can, so he twists the one he has behind her back, forcing her onto her stomach, and pins it with a knee. Using both hands, he captures and twists the other to meet the first, locking it in.
Off the bed again, for the next item. She rolls back up to her knees, glaring at him. The familiar jingle of nipple clamps has her growling out loud as he returns to the bed. Hands, trapped, she face-plants, spreading her legs wide to keep him from rolling her over.
He straddles her ass, grabbing a shoulder in one hand and a breast in the other. She wriggles against him, cursing now, through her growls. But a nipple is freed and quickly clamped and she freezes, not wanting to squish it back into the bed. Breathing hard, teeth gritted, whimpering, waiting for it to sink in.
He gives her a choice, keep turning or get it shoved back down. He’s stronger than her, she knows it, turns over, the other clamp is put in place. More cursing and growling and whimpering, she bucks her hips to give him extra momentum in dismounting her this time.
She barely notices as he picks up rope next, but when a loop drops down over her ankle, she yanks it away. Too late, he yanks back, wrapping the rope under the bed, he has the leverage, and is already at the other corner. Her free leg is curled up, but a quick yank on the nipple clamps and she, screaming, relinquishes the ankle. Tied off and he’s back at the bag.
Returns with a gag and hood. She clenches her teeth, hates gags. Choking and panic and oh gods, the drool. He holds it in front of her mouth, she shakes her head. He cocks an eyebrow, she closes her eyes and shakes her head. Pressure points and her mouth cracks open, thumb in over her teeth, forcing her wider. The gag replaces fingers, tight grip keeps the tension while he buckles it on. She bites down hard, trying to stay calm, breathing already rushing in panic. His hand on her throat and she freezes. Breathe, eyes locked with hers. And the hood comes down over all.
He goes back to the bag, one last time. She hears the click of large buckles, suddenly her burning nipples return to the front of her mind. She sits bolt upright, leaning forward, trying to curl into a little ball. Oh o, o, o, o. She can’t form an N through the gag. He is behind her, the straitjacket in hand. Cursing and writhing, she rocks back hard against him, pushing, shaking.
He grabs her hands, unlocks one wrist, pinning the cuff with a leg to control the still-cuffed arm. He grabs the free arm, threading it into the jacket. She tries to throw it off, tries to bungle it up, tries to push him off the bed. But she moving too much and her nipples are screaming, and she is coughing on the gag. Once her arm is in, she has to stop, has to breathe.
He slips a hand up the back of the nylon hood and grabs her hair, yanking her up out of her defensive curl, drapes the jacket in front of her and then lets her go again. She does not move, does not want to press the clamps against the canvas. Carefully, he uncuffs the other arm, and starts to maneuver it into place. She fights weakly, whimpering and moaning with pain, trying just to keep her arm still, but slowly, he pushes it down into the sleeve.
He yanks the back closed and she is bucking and screaming again. There’s no stopping the pain now, so she is no longer careful. Shoving back against him. Shaking back and forth. Rocking side to side. He wraps his legs around her to pin her in place, yanking each buckle tight as she groans through the gag and hood. Her arms are out to either side, straight out and locked tight.
He grabs on, pressure points and bent, and wrapped, pinned with a leg. Then the other, forcing it around. Nice big hug. Buckles together and her struggling weakens. Pulled tight one big scream. Head shaking, teeth clenching, hood soaked in tears and drool. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her tight against his chest, pulling her to lie down on top of him. Her whimpers turn to sobs, struggles to shaking, and then all to stillness.
September 17th, 2012
What an amazing weekend! I didn’t get to do everything I wanted to do, but that’s the nature of life, and what I did get to do, more than made up for anything that we didn’t manage to squeeze in. The best plan falls apart upon encountering the enemy, and that was the case for several of my friends, but for me, this time, nearly all my plans survived, and some of them far better than I ever anticipated. A lot of people are saying it was the best COPE yet, for me, this is entirely true. I have never had so many scenes, I have never stayed at the hotel, let alone with my partner during the event, and I’ve also never been so well fed at an event. About the only thing that was “on par” for my other experiences, were the classes. They always bring in great presenters to teach really fun classes. I had an incredible weekend.
What happens at COPE stays at COPE, they say, no outing other people by talking about their scenes. But that’s not what I do here, as you all know, I talk about what I did, and my experiences. So let’s begin at the beginning.
Our con began with meeting up with friends, helping out, and getting registered. We found quite a lot of our usual crew and gathered up for a nice dinner at Buca di Beppo. We even got to sit in the Pope Room, because there were so many of us. We talked about crew and the con ahead and even about the upcoming Trauma. Enjoying time together as a family, and then we took food back to feed the rest of our family who couldn’t make it out. Being a group with the volunteering spirit, many were working the con, too.
Back to the hotel, I had a scene right up front, so I didn’t even change, but went and found my ex-Lover, and we took our place for my requested “challenging, transitional suspension.” That, will be a post later on. Afterwards, I went back to the room, got on my shiny kimono and boots, and went in search of him. He was bringing down a suspension, so I knelt nearby, helping clean up rope until he was done. The engineer was nearby scening, too. After that, we sat with friends for a time, until he retrieved us, stun gun in hand, to go back to the main room for our suspension scenes with him. Another post to come. He tormented us both with the stun gun while we waited for the high point, but the battery died out as he tried to keep tormenting me as he began to tie her. We played on the rig in the corner until they turned the lights on that night, and then headed back to our room to take care of each other, with massage and orgasms, and cuddling to sleep.
Morning dawned quietly, but I was awake early. I really wanted to attend class right from the start, so I was up, rinsed off and dressed in a sari while they were still gaining consciousness. They said they’d catch up, so I headed out, grabbed an apple(I was too late for bananas), and found a seat in Bondage for Punishment and Pain. They joined me sooner than expected, but before the class changed rooms in favor of a high point, and we knelt beside him, as much as we could manage, for the entire entertaining class. I found myself able to manage for 15 minutes or so at a time, not wanting to distract myself too badly from the presentation. 4mm rope, a high point, and a flexible bottom, made for quite the class. Stopping by the vendors on the way out, he found some great new toys to buy, a dragon tail and three leather “cocks.” The latter being woven leather cylinders of various widths, with rounded ends, that work great to bludgeon your partner with. We headed back to the room to test them out, and were quite happy with the results.
We then headed off to brunch at First Watch. The second class session not holding our interest more than finding food did. Waffles, bacon, pancakes, eggs and coffee later, we were satisfied and heading back to the afternoon classes. I did wear my bratty shirt, and very short skirt, but I took my sari as a wrap to stay warm, as well. Extreme Bondage was up next, with more kneeling from us, though the presenter invited folk to come close and watch, so he was up in front away from us most of the class. This time, I found the tops of my feet beginning to hurt much faster than I was losing circulation. The class itself was quite interesting and entertaining in its own right, with a handful of really restrictive ties. The next class period, the engineer headed off to a latex class while he and I wandered back to the vendor area, this time picking up a book, a new suspension ring, swivel and two hanging straps. The final class of the day, Predicament Bondage, was the same couple as our first class, we all sat in chairs this time, and had a blast watching (and helping with) the crazy stuff the presenter came up with. Electricity, water, rope and weights and everything else he could grab from his bag of toys. Such fun.
We headed off to dinner, then, Fish Market our destination. Got a seat quickly in the bar portion and, though it was noisy there, we had quite a nice meal together. We he asked us if we’d seen anything that day that we’d like to try, we grinned and said all of it. I took my leftovers back to the event, but couldn’t find anyone in need this time. We attended closing ceremonies, complete with lube-tossing, auctions, NCSF and gratitude. And then the final play party began.
We headed back to the room to get dressed, the engineer donning her blind contacts and me my straitjacket over lacy bodice with garters to red fishnets and shiny boots, he even wrapped my pleather skirt around my waist. I was to be her eyes, and her my hands. We headed back to the dungeon, all grins and giddiness. He showed us off down the hall, through the social area and all around the dungeon. Then we headed to the back rig for him to do his scenes and assist in others. I tried to keep her informed of the things going on around us, and once he sent us to fetch water and candy from the adjoining room. After his scene, she wrapped up the rope for him and I returned it to his bag. When these scenes were complete we headed back to the room for more private fun.
Back in the privacy of our own hotel room, the engineer and I stripped down, but she kept in the contacts. We rearranged some furniture, and sat down side by side, facing him, for an incredible needle scene. Post to come. How I didn’t freak out or pass out, I’m really not sure, let’s just say I’m stubborn, and they were incredible in supporting and encouraging me. We thanked him with massage and curled up for a well-deserved, good night’s sleep.
The engineer had to head off early the next morning for school, and we hung around to help tear down and load out the dungeons. After many good conversations and goodbyes, I headed home to check on the internet, crash for a couple hours and then went out to dinner with hubby and friends. Home again for the last two episodes of BSG, some Lactaid ice cream and then crashed out completely for at least twelve hours. Amazing weekend of awesomeness. Thank you to everyone who made it possible and who made it great.
September 14th, 2012
COPE is today, it starts in just 8 hours! I’ve packed my suitcase, my toybag and my purse. I’m ready to go. Okay, not entirely ready to go, I’m still naked, but my bags are ready to go. Super excited and happy! The corset may not work out, health and postal issues have delayed the work, so I’ve had to change some clothing plans. But it doesn’t really matter, it’s COPE! I could run around with just a short skirt and no one would care. Though, I think he has some straitjacket ideas in his head. At least that’s warm. I’ve mostly given up the idea of being warm. I have one long skirt in the bag, and my saris. But I’m not too fussed about what I end up wearing. Go with the flow and just enjoy.
The class schedule is up and all crazy. Four rope classes the first period! WTF, guys? Ah well, so many good classes, so little time. I think it’ll work out anyway, not to many periods where there’s two classes I’m dying to see. Looking at Extreme, Predicament, and Painful bondage classes. Maybe a latex, a foot care, a single tail class. We’ll see how things go.
So bouncy and happy, I’ve gotta hit sub-mind when I get to the hotel. I can still be bouncy and happy, and all, but we’ve set up some protocol fun, too. Gotta keep my head in the game. Such a great weekend ahead! Boots, and rope, and private things, and shiny things, and pain and pleasure, and learning. So Excited!
See you on the flip side.
July 21st, 2011
So, this extra post is inspired by a several things. One, it’s my birthday on Sunday. Two, toy was giving me a hard time about not asking for things I want (for my birthday). And three, he made a comment the other day that a lot of our play has been about things that he likes(it’s awesome and fortunate, that our kinks match up so well), and due to various things over the last week, he’s curious to try some of the stuff that I like. Thus the straitjacket on Monday. So, without further ado, here’s a short list of scene ideas that came to mind when I thought about my upcoming birthday… while at work… and bored… in the order they came to me.
- Obviously, over the knee, barehanded birthday spankings. This one’s just a given. It’s tradition in all parts of life, to give birthday spankings. So, I want bare hand on bare ass and dear gods, please over the knee, but hey. Girl’s gotta have something special.
- Clothes cut off. I have had this in my head for a while now, but I never really thought too much on it. But when I was writing this list it was second to come to mind. I realized that Every kidnap fantasy I have, they cut off my clothes. This is one I’ve never indulged (it requires pre-planning or the sacrifice of cute clothes), but apparently is a huge turn-on for me.
- Suspension. It’s just all kinds of wonderful and always on my mind. He suspended me last week, quick and dirty, but oh so nice, and spacy. Lovely. So, I think this wish has been nicely fulfilled.
- Sex. Oral. Masturbation. Well, duh, it’s fun. (I’ll get a little more creative further down the page.)
- Intense rope scene. You know the kind. Tied up tight, rope after rope, losing freedom bit by bit. Digging in, dropping down, nothing but you, him and the rope. Eeling optional. The kind of eeling that when you get something free, he just ties it down tighter. And you’re both exhausted by the time the last rope is removed.
- Electric oral. I’ve been curious about this for ages. Since the first time he mentioned it. In that kind of terrified, but oh so curious kind of way.
- TENS masturbation. I want to find the right places. I’ve played with TENS units on various occasions in various ways, but I’ve never found The Spots. Yeah, we’ve turned me all tingly and what not, but I hear stories of more and better. Of getting it to cross the clit. Of getting it to cause orgasms. So very curious.
- Vibrator orgasms until collapse. Writing this made me laugh, then blush. There’s nothing like a Hitachi going on and on until you’ve had so many orgasms that you’re begging for it to stop. And then being forced to have more.
- Clothespin challenge. I wrote this at work with ?’s around it because most of my thoughts were not around painful scenes. The idea popped into my head, inspired by Monday, and spurred on by memories of a game show. How many clothes pins would it take? How many is too many? I think lying down I could take more than standing up. I have this problem with breathing. And then what about taking them off? One by one? Or a big long zipper?
- Sensual flogging or drumming. The rhythmic kind, meant for spacing out and massage. Not the pain of catharsis, not looking for tears or challenge. Just music and thumping and letting go.
- Full body massage. This goes on the same line. Just soft sensation, of touching and caring and love.
July 21st, 2011
Fourth Monday. Finally. Only three months to get here. Such busy, crazy lives we lead. He asks me to bring my straitjacket and blindfold. My turn for isolation. Picnic on Sunday, so some cleaning is already done, but there’s different things need doing. I set to the dishes and the grills, Toy grabs the recycling and trash. Floors are given a once over and the playspace is cleared up a little. Dressed and waiting, he’s got the collar in the truck.
Chat and chicken and dinner. We head downstairs to curl up and flip through the television. Toy heads up to get coffee and he and I discuss my jacket. Doesn’t really work with a skirt, but I’ve got underwear in the bag. Put them on and bring the jacket.
So I strip down to bra and panties – look they match. And he jackets me up, nice and tight. The straps crisscrossing between my legs. Blindfold next, then earplugs. Sound is deadened around me, and then headphones – blocking out most everything else. He puts me down on the couch, laying back on some pillows. I fold my legs, but he soon pulls them straight and shackles my ankles together with something I’ve never worn, hard metal, that seems to crank down.
I settle in, trying to see what I’ve got left. I can hear whispers of sound. His voice raises in question – can I hear him? But it sounds so faint and far away. Is he talking to me? I turn my head towards the noise, but nothing else comes. I feel like I should have answered, but he doesn’t ask again. I can’t hear anything but odd whispers of noise. A creak of the stair, the ceiling, whispers of the tv that only sound like static.
Nothing else is forthcoming, so I relax into the jacket and the blindfold and the quiet. The tv hisses. Annoying. I hear little things, indecipherable, whenever I fully relax. But I can still manage enough. Keeping still, I feel my mind sinking into my body. I feel like I’m in my bones instead of in my skin. I keep thinking about Harry Potter whenever the tv hissing pulls me up. I try to stop, I focus on my breathing, on the heavy sensation in my limbs. I could move if I needed to, but it seems like too much effort to even want to. Little ticks of pain. A prick in my foot, my nose itches, my fingertips of my left hand are pressing uncomfortably. Little movements to relieve the little ticks. Sinking, comfortable. Mind wandering, recording the sensations, knowing I’ll be writing this. I wonder what they’re doing, but no way to know, so I don’t wonder long. I’ve read so much Harry Potter lately, why won’t it stay out of my mind. Breathing, sinking.
I hear more sounds. My breathing picks up. Clanking, like chain in a bucket. What is that? Are they back? I smell hemp. The pillow below my feet moves. It scares me at first, til I realize what it is. The clanking noise stops. I strain to hear where they are, what they are doing. What he is doing.
Music starts playing. I can hear it softly, but clearly. And I relax. I don’t know why, music signals playing, but I relax. It’s a continuous sound, and I focus on it and relax. My breathing slows to normal. He hasn’t come to me yet. I sink back into myself, more easily now.
I think I hear sounds from them. Indistinct. The pillow moves again. My heart jumps, but the music soothes. Then Uncle lands. Ripping me out of myself and back into my skin. And I scream and writhe. More strikes on my thighs. I curl up and he strikes the back of my thighs. I scream and moan. Then he is gone. I curl up whimpering. Then I hear her. Hear strikes at the other end of the couch. When they stop. I whimper and fidget, cowering, and the strikes come again, legs and breasts. Squealing and thrashing, the blindfold starts to slip, he pulls it back down, but it comes up again. The headphones are taken off and a hood forced over my head, squashing my ears. It’s a hood I’ve never worn, the area around the mouth seems to have a leather piece to it. I can breathe easily through it. More strikes with something different and writhing and screams, but this stays in place.
He goes to her again, I listen to the strikes and her squeaks. Straining to hear it stop, cowering whenever it does. More strikes, he lifts my legs to hit the backs of my thighs better and strikes my breasts as well.
Clips come. Along my thighs, left thigh first. I gasp and squeak, sinking into the pain as he steps away. Then returns, my right thigh now, and two above my panties. I rock with the pain, chewing on the leather by my mouth, breathing and moving my legs to take in in and process. More clips around my legs, and then…
A clamp – forcep? – goes on my left nipple and I scream and cry and writhe and shake. He takes it off. It takes me a bit to calm down and listen to them again. He returns and puts one on the right nipple. I scream and groan and moan and twitch my foot, biting hard on the leather, determined not to let this one beat me. He strikes off the clips with a flogger and removes the forcep and I scream and shake. He retrieves them and puts them back on. Having to dig between the cushions under my ass for some of them. As I write this I am not sure I’ve got the clips and clamps in the right order, but I can’t remember clearly.
I was scared of what might come next, gasping hard through my nose, trying to calm down so I could hear. Finally, relaxing enough to uncurl some, to feel the cushion at my feet again, to listen to whimpers from Toy. And then he’s sitting beside me, a blow to my crotch and then his fingers, working away at my clit. Rough and insistent, I arch and groan, pressing back against him. Gasping and moaning, finally I beg, pathetically. Please. Please. The words aren’t even clear to me, but he seems to ask what. Please may I come? He taps my chest twice. I take this as a yes, and let myself go. Orgasming, but he does not stop, pushes harder, and I orgasm twice more before he stops. And leaves me shaking and breathless.
But not for long. He unshackles my ankles, takes off the headphones and hood, and ear plugs. I blink in the light, fidgeting in the sudden brightness and sound. I come up and out again and he sits near my feet and waves me over. Rocking myself up, I turn and cuddle my head against his chest. He kisses the top of my head and asks a few questions. I assumed two meant yes? Yes, especially when he didn’t stop. Then he points out toy, tied up in the corner of the couch and we smile. She looks beautiful.
Do you think you can untie her with you teeth? No. Well, you better try, it’s the only way you’re getting out. You two have to untie each other. I blink up at him and his wide grin. He’s not kidding. So I get up and go kneel in front of her, assessing the situation. I start for a knot at her feet, but she thinks she can get out. I let her squirm for a bit, but she only gets one foot out. So I pull the other knot by her feet and she frees the second foot. Got anything more? She tries, but doesn’t get anywhere. Okay hold still. I’m going to pull the crotch ropes through your waist rope. She squirms a bit and I scold her til she holds still. He’s laughing and enjoying the show. I pull the crotch ropes out of her waist rope, though this seems to cause them to enter other uncomfortable places.
I stand and so does she. Still trying to get her hands free she squirms, but can’t. Okay, I can see a couple more I can undo. Hold still. I pull a couple, but that does nothing to help her hands. She’s turning and fidgeting, so I stand on the rope. He’s laughing his ass off on the floor by now, watching us. Hold Still! I pull a couple more knots out and she can free her hands and get the rope off. He insists I do the blindfold and she squirms and ends up on the floor in a ball. Alright stay there then! I bend over and pull the knot free with my teeth and drop the blindfold on her back.
Up on her knees, she makes quick work of the straitjacket buckles, even without her glasses. I toss it on the couch and sit on the floor with them. She’s trying to finish untying the rope and asks for glasses back. He gives them to us both. She untangles and I coil up the jute. It didn’t taste like much but fibers. He had me clean up. I put everything back in the tub and chest while he got ready for his massage. He came back over to us, sitting on the ottoman with Toy in front of him and me behind him, all happy and glowing.
Then over to the table, back, arms, legs, feet, until our hands were getting tired, turn over. Chest, arms, legs, head and feet. Light touch when we can’t push anymore. Then toy starts to drop, energy gone. I wrap my arm around her and she lays on his chest a few moments and then up. Whispered conversation until she’s just about falling asleep on my shoulder. I lean down to wake him. We need to move to the couch. Clothes changed, tv on, coffee retrieved. We settle in to end our night cuddled up together. Most excellent experience.
May 19th, 2011
Wow, I’ve been blogging for two years as of tomorrow. Two on WordPress, and one cross-posting from PervertedImp.com. That also means that I’ve been part of my local community for three years. What a ride it has been. Honest poly relationships, real community, play parties, limits being found, crossed and offered. Learning from classes, from mentors, from friends and from experiences. Journals, blogs, emails, chats, stories, tweets and threads.
I have posted about scenes, relationships, love, polyamory, social networking, wish lists, family, failures, and successes. I have had a couple flash fiction pieces published, and posts reblogged on other sites and did one meme for silly fun. I created an informational section on clothing care, and started a group about it on FetLife.com. I started out completely anonymous, and then sharing it with loved ones, my kinky family, and then friends.
I have an amazing life, a wonderful husband, and awesome boyfriend and a incredible toy. I have tons of people surrounding me, caring about me, teaching me and supporting me. I am part of groups that meet weekly, sometimes more than once a week, and have more opportunities for play parties and learning experiences than I even begin to have time for.
I made a silly post once about the numbers on my blog and the top posts and all that. Today I wanted to see how people were getting to my blog. Some are coming from Twitter, some from Fetlife, some from email subscriptions. But the part that amuses me the most is the search terms that land people on my blog. So I looked at the top terms. Both sites, of course, have Perverted Imp and other permutations in the top of the list. Over at WordPress, we the other top three terms are Shibari (Complete Shibari, or Shibari blog), Resistance Play, and various permutations of Straitjacket. PervertedImp.com is a little more varied, though with (Complete) Shibari still in a lot of the upper slots. The next two amuse me more, though: Consensual Feminization and Masochist Turn Ons. I am definitely becoming more and more a girl in this community, and my masochist turn ons have increased by leaps and bounds. Painslut also features heavily in my most searched terms.
This is a pretty bland post, without much substance. For substance, see the earlier post this week and I promise more fun next week, too. But today, my head is full of vampires and LARPing. For now, Thank You to everyone who contributes to this absolutely amazing life I lead.
January 7th, 2011
What’s your favorite toy?
That I own? That is hubby’s? That is his? That lover had? That I’ve seen at a play party? That exists in this great big world? Just one? Oooh, so many choices.
Rope, the leatherman, the Hitachi, the little vibrating egg, clover clamps, the spandex hood, a straitjacket, the huge deerskin flogger, clothespins. Must I choose just one?
If I must, then it would have to be rope. Rope makes my world go round. It can tie me up, tie me down, take complete control and set me free. It can burn, it can whip, it can vibrate, it can constrict. It can hold a Hitachi or an egg. It can make my skin more sensitive for the clamps or the leatherman. It can hold on a hood, or keep my hands away from it. It can act as a straitjacket, or make one tighter. It can make clothespins into a zipper, or simply a leash. It can hold me up for the deerskin flogger, or make it all the more sweet to feel.
Rope is my toy of choice. The smell of natural fibers. The feel of soft cotton or rough hemp or prickly sisal. The sound of it hitting the floor, or whipping through the air. The sight of coils around my body, and the marks it leaves in my skin. Such a wonderful toy and tool.
December 23rd, 2010
We are putting together a series of rope classes. I am very excited to be ordering another set of hemp ropes very soon. Just trying to find the right vendor. For the first class, the question all the presenters are answering is: Why even use rope? And here is my answer:
I’ve been a rope slut for two years now, thanks to him. Before him, I liked bondage, but I didn’t really care how it was done. Sure, leather smelled good, and rope seemed quite useful, but cheap canvas cuffs could get the work done, and a straitjacket was quick and secure. I still like all those things, but Rope became the bigger fetish – the preferred method. Why?
Rope, for me, is about the senses. The sense of touch, the feel of the rope on my skin, the bite of hemp or the softness of cotton. The feel of his hands putting it on me, the tug as he tightens, the burn as he pulls, the wraps biting into the skin, the vibrations traveling through every inch. The sense of smell when it comes to natural fibers. The deep, sweat earthly smell of hemp and jute. The sense of hearing – rope being tossed out on the ground, the creak of the suspension rig. The sense of sight. The look of smooth straight lines, cleanly outlining the body. Knots lined up, wraps decorating body and rigging.
I also like it for the methodicalness. A lot of people watch ties being done and state that they don’t have the patience for that kind of thing. That is what I like about rope. It takes time, it can be the entire scene. Cuffs or a jacket are put on before the scene and taken off after. Rope is laid carefully and precisely. It takes time, and during that time, you are becoming increasingly bound. You are becoming increasingly helpless. It is a buildup, bit by bit. It is the slowing giving and taking of control. It is a methodical exchange of power.
I also like it’s versatility. Cuffs and jackets are designed for one thing. Chains are hard, heavy, and not as pliable. Rope can be used in so many different ways. Tied to so many different things, in so many different formations. Different lengths, different thicknesses, different fibers. It can be used to blind, to gag, to choke, to beat, to whip, to burn, to suspend, to bind or to set free. And that was just off the top of my head.
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.
We were moving flats in the backyard. A small garter snake was curled up under one and I quickly moved away.
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.
I shake my head, harder than my body already is.
I whimper and take a step, but only one. He steps forward and I back.
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.
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.
The lighter flicks again.
They’re old. Might not light.
I writhe, trying to throw him off me.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
December 23rd, 2009
Wish list of things I’m not getting for Christmas, but some day… I always love some day… it’s going to be such a great day…
Black Leather Straitjacket
Heavy Canvas – Suspension-worthy Straitjacket
200′ of Hemp that smells like Hemp (yes, I’m still a bit bitter)
Black Leather Boned Corset
Black Leather Skirt
Matching Black Silk Bras and Panties(some say it oughta be a thong)
Purple, Red, Black, Green, Blue Lingerie sets
A Little Black Dress
“Proper Footwear” ™
- slippers for the lingerie
- heels for the LBD
- thigh-high boots
A Nice Black Garter