Archive for March, 2013

March 12th, 2013

Play, Desire and Intimacy

Things are very different in my life now than they were even just a few months ago. I have changed and adapted so much since I started going out on the ‘scene’ as I met amazing people who have nurtured my development and helped me to learn who I am that little bit more than I could before. I have grown.

One particular aspect of this would be how I approach play, sex and relationships. When I was younger, and probably more naive, I used to see sex as this sacred thing, only to be shared with those that I was devoted to, madly in love with, committed to. I also saw play as a very sexual thing and thought of it as an attachment of sex rather than a separate activity.  I didn’t necessarily feel that play was sexual, just often led there. The idea of doing it with someone apart from B was odd. Apart from rope bondage. That always seemed to have a separate entity in my brain, detachable from sex, able to do it with people I wasn’t in an intimate relationship with. Probably because it made me float into subspace. In hindsight, it was probably all a trust thing, as, weirdly, I felt other kinds of play made me more vulnerable. I was very all or nothing, with relationships too. I was young and fell fast and hard for people.

Move on several years later and I have forgotten who I am. I still had these ideas about intimacy and attraction but had few ideas about my own sexuality and arousal. The first time I played with new things with S, I was actually surprised at just how aroused I was, from nothing traditionally sexual in my mind. Pain wasn’t meant to turn me on like this. I loosened up. I tried to get my head around more casual relationships with sexual activities included, to accept my inner masochist, to distance being a demo bunny from full on intimate relationships. I envied those who had play partners who weren’t full on romantic lovers. I envied their ease with each other and their closeness.

It took a few small demonstrations and an operation to get my head around things. My kink drive and sex drive, although not mutually exclusive, have different levels. I craved kink but didn’t feel sexy or sexual, in an obvious way. A sought play that I thought would be less sexually arousing. Some needle play, some service play as a top. And maybe I got into it with the wrong idea but I could enjoy play without sex. This was with people I didn’t have that kind of relationship with.  In time, the relationships that started at that point in my life have changed to include more sexual intimacy but that developed rather than was expected.  They are both gorgeous individuals that I am very lucky to have that kind of relationship with.  I realised that sex is fun and doesn’t just have to be in long term, romantic, ‘normal’ relationships!  I also actually realised that topping someone and causing pain can get me as hot as having a knife to my throat but that doesn’t mean I have to have sex that instant!

Which gets me on to playing/demoing with people I am not having sex with, and quite possibly don’t even want to. I can’t turn off my body’s response to things that turn me on, if there is energy in the play/demo but I also know how to behave like a civilised human being and not bone someone just because I’m horny, regardless of what they have done! If there’s a connection in that instant and it makes me (or them) feel good, what’s the problem? Life’s too short sometimes.

I seem to have been rambling again! Brain vomit!  Basically, what I’m trying to say is, sex is fun, play is fun.  They can be independent of each other or very much intertwined.  I don’t have to have a sexual connection with someone to play, but I do need trust and to actually like them!

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March 8th, 2013

The Exhibition

I wait for her to arrive. I’m dressed in a corset and heels, cleavage on show. My lips are painted deep red, seams run up the backs of my legs, hair pulled back. I feel confident and in charge.

When I see her, I can’t help but smile. She’s followed my orders and looks exactly how I wanted her to. There’s one thing missing though. I watch as she walks over to me and wordlessly bows her head I slip the soft leather collar around her neck, catching a hint of its delightful smell. I fasten it gently and guide her to look up at me, caressing her check, feeling so powerful.

“You look beautiful and I am proud to call you mine”
“Thank you, Miss” barely a whisper

I plant a tender kiss on her lips and lead the to the stage. The spanking bench is waiting and, will a gesture, she bends herself over it. I tighten the restraints around her wrists and stroke her hair, making sure she is ready. I feel her body relax. As I pull on my gloves, I let her smell the leather, seeing her melt and relax further.

I admire the sight of her arse, presented to me, presented to everyone. A warm up to start, well paced, building up, alternating checks, loving the feel of spanking her, the sound of impact, the aching of her back. I lower her knickers to expose her pale flesh, smiling to myself as I think about how unblemished it is. More gloved slaps, getting harder and faster and still she is silent. I pull off a glove and alternate using my hands until I find myself just using the unshielded one. The feel of the sting when my hand makes contact with bars skin. She’s not been able to stay completely silent and now I know she’s ready.

“Everyone is here to watch him you, to see the marks made on your body, to hear you scream”

She looks at me, pleading with her eyes, but I turn away to reach for the first cane, medium weight, rattan. I start off slowly, lightly tapping to get a feel of the cane. Small moans and yelps follow as I increase the strength of my whipping, working through the canes from thuddy to stingy, natural and man made, flexible and rigid. Her skin glows a beautiful shade of pink, a smattering of marks but not enough yet.

I pick up the final cane. I pass it in front of her eyes and she starts to protest. It’s the stingiest one, whippy and mean and she knows I will use it hard. Loudly enough for the room to hear, I address her,

“I want you to count in batches of 6, clearly, for everyone to hear just how hard this is for you.”

She nods and I begin swiping the cane across her backside, making contact and waiting for her reaction. A repressed yelp, a gasping breathing, a defiant count. Again, the stick meets her skin, harder. Her reaction is louder but still, a hint of defiance. I will break her. My blows continue, some devilishly hard, others so quick in procession that she can barely count. She’s struggling now, the numbers catching in her throat.

I will make this set my last, put everything in have into it. The first breaks the silence with her cry, the welt on her skin visible almost instantly. By the 4th, she is counting through sobs, still determined. When the set is over, I caress her skin,  hand skimming over red marks, making her gasp out. Beautiful lines blossoming on her body. My hand wanders between her legs and I am surprised by her obvious arousal.

As I brush over her cunt, an entirely different moan escapes. She’s forgotten where we are. Gently, I tease her, stroking, prodding, pulling back. Her moans increase, getting louder, more desperate, her body aching into me. A hand at the nape of her neck, pulling her sharply back as my other fingers thrust into her. Another scream, of shock, pain, pleasure.  I finger fuck her fast and hard, until I can feel her body contacting, legs shaking, moans climaxing.

A gentle touch, the careful unrestraining,  the stroking if hair, bringing her back. A kiss on her forehead

“Well done, my good little girl. You have made a lot of people happy tonight. They enjoyed being witness to both your pain AND pleasure.”

A bashful look, a blush on her cheeks.

“I am proud of you, my good girl. You did well” Her smile says it all; now when to show off my girl again?

March 2nd, 2013

Partial Suspension Demo

This weekend saw the first Liverpool and Merseyside Peer Rope event held at THI (an awesome venue that I shall definitely be going back to). I was lucky enough to act as demo bunny for R and I just feel the need to share.

Sat beside her whilst she gives a brief intro, I’m hugging my chest, already feeling vulnerable and a little nervous. I knew what the plan was and was sure my hip would be fine but I wanted to do my best, to be a good bunny. Plus I knew she was going to ask me to strip and I was feeling a little shy!

She got my to my knees with ease and used the rope against me, whipping, binding me tight, showing me who was in charge. A quick warm up before the main event.

The blindfold on, a technicality as my eyes are closed from the second I am in her arms, in our rope bubble. The mix of mean and gentle, building the connection. My arms behind my back, the bindings around my chest and arms, the adjustments made, all have the same passion and energy as kinbaku with her but there is something so different too. Almost a fierceness in the precision of that rope. An additional feeling. A wonderful one.

She partially suspends my upper body and lowers me back, throwing in some pinches and slaps just to keep me there, just enough to tickle the masochist in me. She hoisted my leg, leaving me feel rather exposed, whispering in my ear to remind me of our audience. I know I blushed slightly, a reminder of my shame, made worse by the moans that I couldn’t contain as she gently ran rope between my legs whenever she had a chance.

The fast, sharp, tight binding round my other leg, pushing me, making my feel fabulous. Her pulling my other leg up even straighter before letting me down. The pinches and digs at my ribs, the punches, the rope pulled suddenly at my neck, the gasp and choke as it catches me off guard.  She doesn’t stop putting energy in as she unties, the rope still feels amazing coming off.

I am free but her arms are around me, bringing me back down. Only then can I even think of opening my eyes and registering all the people watching. I barely have that time when the punches begin to rain down on my again. Again and again, with the slapping and pinching and meanness. A pause to tidy and realise that everyone had left,  leaving R to beat me some more and realise just how turned on I am, and how much more so as she slaps my cunt. My legs spread, facing the open door, commanded to wank as she abuses my nipples, given permission to come, knowing that people will have heard, not knowing which people have seen me.

The final comedown, the awesome hugs and the energy that’s still there .  And the bruises to follow!


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