First Suspension

September 17th, 2012

First scene of the weekend. I’d asked my ex-Lover to suspend me. He’d talked so animatedly about a Shibaricon class on Transitional suspension, that I was super curious. We had never done suspension before, he and I, so we talked it out, what did I want, what was looking for. I wanted a challenge, I wanted to see what it was like, I understood it would be the comfortable suspension I was used to. I wanted to try this thing that had him so excited. Just the rope, just the suspension, ex-Lover, me and the rig, nothing else.

We arrived at the rig, and he began to set up, getting the ring in place, as I stripped down to just my skirt. It was still my long skirt, so I pulled it up over my breasts to keep me warm while I waited. When he was ready, he looked at me with a grin, and pulled a long white cloth out of his bag. I nodded assent, and he wrapped it around my head, blindfolded to start the scene. Trusting him more than I had in a long time.

He pulled my skirt back down to my waist, and began a Taka Takote chest harness. I focused in on the rope and on his movements and body. Sliding my wrists to a comfortable spot after he tied them together. Feeling the wraps as he laid them down. Listening, I could hear a familiar voice off to the side. He, my boyfriend, was there, chatting, the tone of his voice, if not his words carrying across the dungeon, for a little while, and then he was gone again. The lower rope of the tie worried me, I have a short ribcage and I spoke up. Ex-lover assured me that no weight would be on it, but raised it a little anyway. Then the skirt came off the rest of the way, and was put aside. He wrapped rope securely around my upper thighs, just a couple wraps on each leg, and that was all. Then it was time to begin.

He tied me off to the ring, chest harness first, pulling me up to my toes. Then one leg, up high, weight shifting, as I tried to stay balanced a little bit. Then the other. Assuredly, the most uncomfortable face-down suspension I had ever been in. See, no weight on the lower rope. He pulled me up higher and tied off my ankles as well. I kept breathing, my fingers tingling. I felt like I was spinning so much. I can’t, too dizzy, not going to give up. I opened my eyes and looked down. I could see the carpet in a triangle below the blindfold, I was barely moving. I wanted this suspension, but the blindfold was too much. He took it off and I could relax again. Changed my angle a bit again and then he was on the floor below me, smiling big and telling me I was beautiful.

A rope dangled between my legs and he tugged on it, thin little crotch rope. I gasped and squealed and then called him off, crotch rope is one thing, but most of the pressure was uncomfortably centered further back. Hanging there, enjoying the pain and the rope. Floating in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

He was up again, changing the ropes, trying for something else. My legs were lowered and he was adding ropes to the chest harness. It seemed some sideways action was coming up next. But then my left arm went cold from the elbow down, and my left hand stopped moving. Done, I called, I can’t move my fingers. And down I came. He untied quickly, bringing me back to my feet, and untying me from the ring. I need to sit, and he caught me as I tried to sit on the floor, calling for a chair. I wasn’t going to fall, I thought, but did not say, I just wanted to sit, but he waited for the chair and set me down gently, all smiles and floaty.

Breathe for a few moments as he untied. Turn sideways so he could get the back. Gently move the arms down, check the damage. A little numbness below the elbow, and the thumb-side half of the hand. Ah well, it’ll come back in time. (In fact, came back by the end of the night, so all is well.) Hugs, a kiss and thanks and gathered up my clothes, for a floaty-naked walk back to my room to get dressed for the night. A great way to start the con.

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COPE 2012 was Amazing

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.

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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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My Passion

May 21st, 2012

Today, I want you to do whatever is your passion. That was the start of the GRUE this weekend. People were invited to put their passion, in the form of a class title up on the wall, and to lead classes all day to teach/discuss their passions. I’d had a few ideas to put up on the wall until that was said, then I had nothing. Instead, I went and put up his passion instead, he wanted to fly people, and to teach his favorite tie. So, that’s what we did.

He taught the drum tie, with me assisting. It was a big class, so I went around and helped those who were having trouble. I pointed out where they had gone the wrong way, or I showed them what to do next when they got lost. I helped with the tricky knots. It was great, and he often praised or thanked me for it. Once folk were tied, I helped guide their heads off the ground and back down again. In between, I got to watch them Fly.

Oh, did they fly! So many new faces, so many first times. Such joy and amazement. And him, bouncing and running and grinning so wide. The onlookers staring and laughing, all of us enjoying the moment and the energy. And when they came down, and I cradled their heads in my lap. They were still glowing so brightly. It was incredible.

And he didn’t stop. He helped put up everyone from the class that wanted to go up. And then he kept going. People kept coming and asking to go up. He had quite the queue. We didn’t even get halfway through it. All day he kept going. And people came by to learn, as well. He taught the tie at least three more times throughout the day.

I was so full of energy, I couldn’t stay still. Often, when he was tying, I would wander off. I wandered off to a bootblack class for a bit. Talking with one of the bootblacks that I learned with, and discussing technique and products with the others that showed up. I cut out halfway through to see if he needed help when I saw him lowering someone, but her boy was catching her. He did have me run out for his gloves then. I went back to bootblacking after that for more discussion. I learned a lot about high polish boots, that being the side I don’t work with at all right now.

I wandered in and out of a lot of other demo classes. Fire, paddles, floggers, cigars, another couple suspension classes. But never for very long. I was curious, but not focused on them. I wanted to keep an eye on everything going on, but I kept coming back to him. Kept checking in. Bringing him water, making his sandwich after another friend insisted on getting us both food. Fetching things from the truck. Cleaning up the ropes between scenes. Keeping track of the queue. Basking in the energy each and every suspension created.

People kept asking if I was having fun. Some concerned that I wasn’t getting suspended. I told every single one of them yes. I was having a great time. Didn’t they See the huge grin on that girl’s face? Didn’t they see how awesome a time everyone was having? It was so great to see so many people have their first experience flying. I had an amazing day.

At the closing circle, my emotions were on a rollercoaster. I was so very near to tears then calm then up near tears again, all joy, full with the energy of that room full of people. Leaning against him, his arms around me. When he spoke up, he said how great a support I had been to him all day. Several people thanked him for his passion. I couldn’t speak, afraid I would cry and be unintelligible. We went to dinner, buzzing about the day, chattering, happy. It was a great day. I’m so glad I decided to go.

I began to wonder though, as he talked about having done his passion all day. What had I done? What was my passion? Had I fulfilled my purpose at the GRUE? Had I followed the rule? I fluttered around all day. Did that mean I didn’t have a passion?

No. No, I did indeed fulfill the purpose of the GRUE. I lived my passion. I spent the entire day serving him. Even my fluttering. To learn more about bootblacking. To keep an eye on who was using the other point. To check on everyone around and see what was happening and that everyone was happy and safe. To help him teach. To help him suspend new people. To share his joy and theirs. I spent the day fulfilling my passion of service to him. And it was wonderful.

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Writer’s Block

March 2nd, 2012

I’ve struggled with blogs posts lately. Both here and my “family friendly” blog. My kink life has been centered around Modern Dungeon Quarterly lately, and I’m already posting about that over there. I’ve posted here a few times, but I don’t want to just keep repeating myself. That’s what twitter’s for, eh? And I certainly can’t tell my family about That project, even though I’m really excited about it, and enjoying the process. Other than that, normal club nights, with a new suspension point, and practice nights as usual. Having the suspension point back at the club has been nice. I have some lovely rope trails across my chest still from last weekend’s flight. Relationship wise, well last week’s babbling is still about where I’m at, so. A chance for progress on Monday, we’ll see how it goes.

So, what do I write about this week. I’m already a day behind. Watched Search for Spock yesterday instead of blogging. I poked around Fearless Press, looking for inspiration, but nothing spoke to me. I wanted to have something for eLust this month, but I don’t think I’ve got anything coherent enough to put in the digest. I’ve switched from Netflix to WoW, but that’s not for this audience either.

It was suggested that I write a story, toss out an erotica piece if I didn’t have anything else to say. It’s a good idea, I enjoy writing them, but my mind just won’t focus on that kind of writing today. I’m journaling in my head, which is not nearly as helpful as journaling on paper, but it’s also not the kind of thing I want to do here. Not today.

I’m writing around in circles. Sorry about that.

Maybe I’ll get in the mood for a good story this weekend and you’ll get a bonus post that’s a lot more fun than this one. Maybe once I finish the book I’m reading, I’ll start reading more bdsm and poly books and do book reviews. I really owe Complete Shibari a better review than the one I wrote all that time ago. And I really ought to read more books. Always ought to read more books. So, dear readers, help me out, comment with books you think I should read. Because I haven’t ready much at all in the lifestyle category.

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In and Out of Space

November 24th, 2011

Monday. Contract day. He says he wants to get off work early to help us clean. The dungeon needs put back together. It’s been storage space since July. He wants to put up the suspension point again. Sounds great to me.

Toy is eager to arrive, but I’m not ready. Come to mine first. I finish eating dinner and we go over at 5. He’s aiming for 530. Toy is stressed out and grumpy. Grouching about cleaning for the first time in a months. But she does her share, as I do mine. He is waiting for the boss to leave so he can. Apparently the boss stayed late as he is a bit later than usual getting home. I remind toy of her promise, and she is appropriately dressed by the time he gets home, but not yet changed into play clothes as the dungeon cleaning awaits.

We greet with hugs and kisses and head down to tackle the dungeon. Tubs and tools and crates and wood scraps. Stage stuff and sawdust, and lots of bits of cloth. We clean and sort and move everything back where it belongs. A vise clamp comes out to play for a bit, fitting around our legs, my belly, and then making a nice breast clamp and head clamp. We reclaim his space and reset the furniture. Taping the mats together, we create a nice pad below the suspension point. He rigs it up and we each take a spin. Just right.

Toy and I go fetch some water and change our clothes, when we return, he has two candles lit and fits a new bulb in the socket. A nice dark glow fills the room. He kneels on the mat and invites us to join him. I drop down into my kneeling posture, toy beside me, him in front of us. After a couple minutes, it feels like silent prayer at church, how long are we going to kneel? Are his eyes closed? Is he moving? I glance through my eyelashes far too often, trying to relax, but eager with anticipation. He shifts to sitting, which doesn’t help, then grabs toy and pulls her into his lap. I listen to her whimper, and then he pulls her up and I hear rope hit the floor. This finally calms me. I sink into my position, eyes fully closed, relaxed and just listening to the rope and to their interaction.

Eventually, he positions her on the bishops chair to the other side of me. And starts making passes back and forth in front of me. It takes a few for me to understand he’s taking the floggers out of the tub. I start to come back into my body at this point, wondering what’s going to happen next. I feel him kneel in front of me, I hear him rub his hands. I know he’s going to slap me, but when the strike comes down on my thigh, I’m surprised. He slaps my thighs, alternating. I crumple a couple times, and one of them, I move so that his strike bounces off my left wrist painfully. When I get back up from that one, my arms go behind my back, protecting the sensitive joint. He starts slapping my face. Harder and harder, until I’m gasping and moaning. I get my eyes back open at this point, and see his grin. He grabs me by the hair and pulls me off my knees and onto my back. I lay there gasping while he shows toy what face slapping feels like.

He pulls me up and stands me under the ring. I grab it for support, my right leg doing fairly well, but my left still half numb. Toy looks very good in her box tie chest harness, sitting happily on the chair. He starts tying a tabletop with jute on my waist. Tossing out the rope and yanking it against my legs when it gets tangled. Most things give into his will if he tries hard enough, eh toy? Yes, Sir. We fiddle with where my hips are and he threatens nice tight crotch ropes. When he finishes the lower half, he steps over to toy to give her the first taste of wax. Dripping it across her thighs. She gasps, and likes it. He lets her process and returns to me.

Chest wraps now, teasing about duct taping the remote control vibrator to me. He adds a little more wax to toy and she squeals as he gets closer to her inner thighs. Just before he attaches me to the ring, I ask if he really wants the vibrator, he does, but he doesn’t want the interruption of fetching it. Ties my chest and then tries something new with the lower lift lines. Up I go, but it’s not balancing on my hips right, so back down and rigs it the usual way. Up again and balance it out. He gets a cloth and ties a sling for my head. I’m already spacing and he pushes me into a gentle spin as he returns to toy and the wax.

I was fairly well gone. Occasionally my feet or legs would rub against him. I moved them up and down occasionally. He put wax on her and took it off with a knife. At some point he poured some over the bottoms of my feet. I squealed a lot and when it got really hot, I jerked away into a little ball. But it felt really good up to that point. He asked if I was still in there and counted me to orgasm once, biting me while I did. I remember him scraping the wax off my feet. Some felt good, some felt really good, and some just tickled the hell out of me. Whenever that happened, I clenched my hands against my face in an effort not to squirm against the sharp knife. He dragged the knife near more tender bits when he was done, causing soft moans and ragged breathing. I can’t remember when he tied my ankles up, if it was before or after the wax, it must have been before, it relieved the awkwardness and some of the pressure.

At another point he was flogging the wax off toy and took a few shots on me as well, legs and then crotch. I think that popped me out of space. I was getting dizzy but it wasn’t time to come down yet. So he stopped me spinning for awhile and then he started playing Open Sesame with toy. Eventually she did, and then he asked her how many more she could take. She said four. So he counted them out, sending me into orgasm at three, and then counting 1,2,3 again for her forth strike. He bit me again, I think. I dropped back into space and he let me spin a bit more.

Then it was time to come down. Dropped my ankles, then my legs and I was standing, leaning into the chest rope heavily. He pulled out the lift lines and then undid my chest. I stumbled a little, but held the ring until I got my balance. He started to undo my legs, but then told me to untie the toy so we could clean up the wax. Reminding me of how to wrap his rope now.

I started to untie her hands, she pulled out, and got scolded for her impatience and desire for modesty overwhelming safety. I finished untying her and set her to sweeping up the wax while I put up the ropes. He returned and we finished off the jute. Then he sent us off to change back into our regular clothes as he sets up the massage table. Down again and we set to work on his knotted muscles. Working hard on his back, my hands are fairly weak, but toy still has her strength and we work together to find what he needs. Energy all coming down as we work, pouring out gratitude for what he has given us into taking care of him. It ends abruptly when his wife gets home. But a wonderful night of reclaiming the space and connecting with each other.

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The Violet Wand

October 9th, 2011

“Do you enjoy this?” “You’re having fun, aren’t you?” “How’d you get this job?”

Questions I get asked every weekend. I do violet wand scenes for strangers, and friends, almost every weekend. It’s volunteer, it’s not a job, though occasionally it feels like it. I do it for fun, for my chosen family, and for those random strangers who walk in off the street and are curious, drunkenly brave, or scared but pressured by their friends. Even the most macho of drunken frat boys gets a little jumpy the first time a glowing violet bulb comes near his skin.

I got the ‘job’ by showing up. By helping out, by wanting to be around, to participate, to learn, teach and share. I found family and they accepted me. They taught me, they shared so many things with me. And what could I do, but join them, and pass on what I had been given? Life, for me, is about experiences. The best gifts I have received have not been things, but adventures. Roller coasters, festivals, conferences, conventions. Flying through the air, held only by a few hemp ropes. The thrill of the first glowing bulb on my skin. The crazy run of emotions in all sorts of scenes. The first time I asked for something I wasn’t sure I really wanted, to make him happy, or because I was curious. The joy of my first virgin scene, and the one after, and the one after…

There’s nothing like that. Introducing someone to something new. Showing them there’s nothing to be afraid of, or that the fear can be intoxicating. Helping them enjoy themselves, let go a little, relax. Getting them to want more. I can’t even count the number of people who’ve sat down in the chair terrified, and got up planning to browse eBay for their very own wand. That’s why I do it. That’s what I enjoy.

And more. When they come back week after week, month after month. The ones who really enjoy it, really get into it. The ones who have no where else to go to get this particular feeling. I do it for them, too. The ones that squirm in their seat, giggle or moan. The ones who clearly enjoy themselves and give back the energy to me.

It keeps me going on nights when the macho men feel like they have to sit perfectly still and show no reaction. Or the girls are too afraid to let their boys see how much they like it. Or the ones that just feel embarrassed by their pleasure and sit stiff and nervous. I don’t mind the ones that don’t like it. I share with them the experience, the range of sensations, and if we can’t find one they like, no problem. Not everyone enjoys electricity. But the ones that don’t react at all are draining. I’ve learned to read people and I do the best I can, but when all the energy is going out and being absorbed with no return, it can be a very long night.

But even on those nights, I keep on going. I still enjoy it. Because I know, some of them will still come back. Still try again, and maybe next time, they will be calmer, more relaxed, give something back. And even on those nights, most of them still thank me, and smile when I’m done. And almost every one of those nights, I get a scene that makes up for it. A new, excited, squirmy, giggling, moaning virgin, who exudes pleasure and recharges me as I charge them up. And if all else fails, I’ve still got my family around me, and with just a few pokes and tickles, I get the energy I need to keep going.

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Broken Not Fragile

September 22nd, 2011

One of the first times I answered “the heath question” before playing with someone, that’s what I said. I’m not fragile, but I am broken. I have RA, so I have fussy joints. Hubby has a badly injured back. He has had surgery twice in the last two years. Toy has a myriad of problems, treatable and mysterious. And we all get injured, ill or just plain exhausted. So, what then? What do you do when your play partner, your loved one, is not feeling up to snuff?

He once asked me if I could be happy not being suspended by him for a whole year (at the time he was suspending me three nights a week), and suggested that such could be the case some day due to health. Now, I have not gone a full year between suspensions, but often it is months. And yes, I’m still quite happy with him. It isn’t about what we do together, but more about being together.

There is a lot of service in my submission to him, so taking care of him when he’s not feeling well comes naturally. I’m not really the maternal type, but fetching food, giving massages, just sitting and stroking his hair, all feel good to me. Hubby and I are making time to take care of each other more now, too. We plan out our date nights, but sometimes, one or both of us is feeling rough, and we just take care of one another in the same way.

Toy has a unique way of taking care of the sick. She likes to be the Get-Well Fairy and goes to the store and drops of little bags of whatever is needed or wanted. She likes to help people out, and even remembers to let us help her when she’s ill, too. She does ask for help when she really needs it, but sometimes we have to push past her reflexive “I got this, guys.”

So, this is all good and nice and happy. What about the parts I don’t do so well? This is two-fold for me. One, I don’t take care of myself. Two, I over-protect those I love. So, let’s take these in backwards order because the one leads into the other.

Over-protectiveness. If someone is not quite up to their full health, or feeling tired or sore, I assume the role of care taker. Which isn’t a bad thing, but it also means I don’t ask them for anything I might want. I feel that their health is more important and it would be selfish to ask for anything. This happens a lot on Wednesdays. If he comes in late from work and looking worn out or complaining of headache or pain, I won’t ask to play, even if it has been on my mind all day. I don’t want to push him if he’s not up to it, I don’t want him to feel bad for saying no, or make himself feel worse by saying yes. I’m taking away his ability to make that decision for himself by not asking. Bad me. There’s a bit more baggage around that one than just health issues, but that’s not today’s topic.

So, that also leads into not taking care of myself. Just because the desire mentioned above is a want instead of a need (I hesitate to call anything defined as play or sex a need), doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have it. Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t ask for it. I don’t often ask for things I want, because, I tell myself, I don’t really Need them. I put those I care about first, my assumed responsibilities second, and myself third. It’s why I stopped Tai Chi and Yoga, it’s one of the reasons why I can’t get back into kneeling regularly. Those things all came to be “about me.” I’m doing them for myself, so they aren’t as important as the things I’m doing for others.* The only thing that over-rules that is exhaustion. I do veg on the couch when I’m too tired to do anything else, until I fall asleep. With taking on a second job recently, exhaustion is winning out more, and the second job is taking all the time usually reserved for “my things.” Only illness and injury slowed me down this week and did not provide for productive “me time,” and I took extra shifts to make up the missed days. So much to do, it’s hard to find the proper balance.

*As I reread this, I decided some extra discussion was, perhaps needed, to define how this ritual came to be “about me.” Roughly a year and a half ago, he asked me to kneel for him, to get up to thirty minutes a day and to reflect on our relationship during this time. Tai Chi and Yoga became part of this ritual to take care of myself, to be healthy for him. I wrote a post about this just a few weeks ago, about what I could do to reclaim this habit. However, the changes in our relationship, and the problems I had with the kneeling, and my efforts to overcome them, have cast this ritual in a different light. Yes, once upon a time, he asked me to do it. But it no longer feels like a part of our exchange. It is something I do to center myself, or to take care of myself. Not something I do for him. And so, when I fail to do it, it’s just one more thing I don’t do for myself because I don’t have or make the time after everything else I put first.

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Birthday Wishes

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.

 

    1. 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.
    2. 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.
    3. 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.
    4. Sex. Oral. Masturbation. Well, duh, it’s fun. (I’ll get a little more creative further down the page.)
    5. 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.
    6. 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.
    7. 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.
    8. 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.
    9. 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?
    10. 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.
    11. Full body massage. This goes on the same line. Just soft sensation, of touching and caring and love.
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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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