Archive for ‘Play’

May 29th, 2014

SMD Conference 2014

Well, it is over for another year but I am still coming down from an amazing weekend at the SM Dykes Manchester Annual Women’s Conference.  As always, it has been a wonderful weekend, starting with the auction on Friday night and ending with the final play party on Monday afternoon.

This year was my fourth conference, although I didn’t go to much last year.  It was very different for me, not going along with a partner and also realising that I am such a different person now.  I was so shy and reserved at my first one and now, I can barely recognise myself as I am so chatty, involved and bouncy.  The muscles in my face are still sore as I can’t stop smiling and laughing.  Not only did I have a fun weekend but also a successful one as I was running Lash for Lasses on Sunday and it went really well.  I’ve had loads of positive feedback from it and I covered all my costs too so I was a very happy bunny.

The workshops over the weekend were really interesting and fun and it was hard to choose just one each session.  I talked about cunt, leather community, pegs and Girl Guides and it was really good to spend the weekend with some of my favourite people, many whom I only get to see once or twice a year.  I even got to say my goodbyes when I gatecrashed the brunch on Monday morning!

The main thing I want to write about, though, is the Monday play party.  It was the only time I had to play all weekend, not that that was a problem, although I now also have a few people I need to organise dates with as I just didn’t have time over the weekend (another entirely new thing for me!).  I got chance to experience some different needle play with a top who I have admired for a long time.  She did a needle corset on my chest, laced with ribbon and it looked so pretty (I’m gutted I didn’t get a photo) but felt even more amazing, especially when the needles were being tweaked and played with.  The sensations were awesome and I got very floaty from just over a dozen needles.  I’m hoping I’ll get a chance to play with her more at some point as she really is a gorgeous person too.

I had enough time to come down enough for my main date planned over the weekend.  Time to properly break in my new floggers and to play with someone who I have not done enough mean things to, quite frankly!  Baited by his implication that flogging is just a nice sensation thing, I pushed myself to be that more mean, that little bit more forceful.  Pushing him against the wall, aggressive kissing, pushing my body against his.  Then the teasing hands and nails, running the falls over his skin, gentle caresses, a light, slow start to my flogging on his back.  Build up and pace, teasing, testing.  Adding speed and force, adding my second flogger, encouraged by the moans and hisses as it got harder.  I wish I could have gone on for so much longer but my fatigue of the weekend and timing meant it was time to end things, however much I craved to do more, however much I wanted to continue with my games.

What I do think I deserve is my flogging merit badge.  I love my new floggers and feel I can use them pretty well.  Of course, practise will only make me better but I’m definitely a lot more confident now.

April 21st, 2014

Inadequacy

For some, BDSM is solely an addition to their sex life, something that they can do without, something that is easy to not do when life is a bit stressful and confidence may not be at it’s highest.  For me, it’s a lot more than that as it is something that I find seeping into my life more and more, being a core part of me.  Being kinky is part of my sexual identity and is very important.  It’s not something that I can turn off when I’m not feeling great, even though I don’t have a 24/7 D/s type relationship with anyone.  There are times when, as a switch, my everyday life, feelings and emotions may mean that I lean heavily to being more dominant than submissive or however I happen to be feeling but BDSM and sex are still very important to me.

I have struggled with my mental health for a long time and there are definitely still times when my self-confidence is low.  If I’m feeling submissive, this may lead me to feeling like I’m not good enough, that I’m not doing my best or not taking as much pain as I should be able to or I’m crying too much but, mostly, I compare these things to how much better I can be and have been on other occasions.  I know it’s not the best way of looking at things but it says a lot about me.  I don’t end up comparing myself to others too much in this way; it’s rare that it will matter to me how other masochistic other people seem or whether they are less bratty or whatever other trait.  I hold my standards for myself very high.

When I am topping, however, I definitely have a different confidence issue.  Some of it is definitely experience levels as I just don’t top as much as I bottom but I do end up comparing myself with other tops and don’t feel like I am good enough for my bottoms.  I worry that I’m not sadistic enough, don’t cause enough pain, don’t push hard enough, don’t leave enough marks.  It’s an easy thing for me to do when I am poly as my partners play with other people and I switch with my main top, or when I co-top someone.  I see them as more experienced, more skilled, more knowledgeable.  I start to wonder why people want me to play with them when there are much better tops for them.  In a co-topping scene, I can find myself shrinking away and pulling back, letting the other person take over as I don’t think I’ll be good enough.  My standards for myself are so high and I don’t want anyone else to confirm my fears by saying I’m not as good as so-and-so.

I know this is my issue to deal with and that it is as silly as wondering, as a poly person, why my partners would want me because so-and-so is better.  Or why do they want another partner?  Am I not good enough?  I know the answer is no, that it’s not about someone being better but being different.  I know that people must want to play with me because they get something out of it that makes it worthwhile for them.  I might not be as sadistic as another play partner but maybe they like someone who’s not all about that.  I might not be the world’s best puncher but I have a pretty good caning arm.  I need to play to my strengths and remember that I am me when I am playing and that’s what people want.

November 12th, 2013

Come For Me

I’ve been interested in orgasm control and denial for a while now, having almost accidentally found out that I enjoy it.  This applies to me as both a top and bottom.  As a top, I love the power it gives me, the joy I get from their struggle, the enjoyment I get from deciding when they can release.  As a bottom, I find giving up that part of me scary but thrilling, frustrating but arousing in itself.  I love trying so hard to obey orders, to do as they desire of me, to not disappoint.  Plus the prolonging of my release makes it ever so much sweeter when I get it.  Normally, it’s just been a case of asking permission to come and possibly being denied.  Or being told I can masturbate but don’t have permission to come.  It’s been pretty straight forward control and I like that. 

Another aspect of orgasms I am interested in has been ones without direct physical stimulation.  I can orgasm from nipple stimulation alone and I have felt really close from just reading a series of messages from a partner but it’s not a common thing.  Reading good erotica will turn me on but not to that extreme.  Having a partner describe in detail what they want to do to me will have me all hot and bothered, especially when whispered in my ear but, still, there is only so far that has taken me before.  There’s something exciting in the idea that I could come without someone’s touch though and I’ve been intrigued for a little while now but I’ve never really brought it up with anyone.  I wasn’t even really that sure that I would be able to and, even if I did, that it would be easy or repeatable.  That was, until last night.

There wasn’t really anything different about last night.  I needed to get a decent night’s sleep to get back to work today and I wanted company in bed as I’ve had quite a tough few days.  I’d turned the light off, said good night and rolled over when his voice is in my ear, low, soothing but firm.  He talked of a scenario, one which hasn’t actually happened but I can imagine would be hot as hell, after a tiny taster of an e-stim unit recently.  His way with words and descriptions will have me shivering with anticipation normally but there was something a little different.  Repetition of words, of phrases, of ideas.  Talk of his control over me, him holding the control box, his decision of how things would feel for me.  The build up of his words describing my own build up in the scene had the real me twitching along, muscles contracting, feelings intense.  He wasn’t touching me, there was no electric pads on my actual body, nothing to give me sensation but the words coming from his mouth and my mind’s own imaginings.  As he talked of a wave of electrical stimulation down my body, I could feel it, prickling, pulsing, tingling.  When he talked of the final wave, I came, everything feeling like it was really happening.  So when he continued to talk, continued to reinforce the ideas and feelings in me, set my triggers and repeated them, over and over, I wasn’t at all surprised at my body’s response.  Everytime.  Even without words.  Some of my orgasms were earth shattering, others just a gentle spread of warmth in me but they continued, even if he distracted me for a while, even if we were giggling about something else; if that commanding tone came back with my triggers, that was it. 

I was scared.  Good scared, I should add.  I never thought someone would be able to have such an effect on me, have such control over my mind, be able to get in my head so much.  And for it to stick.  An unexpected call today with just my triggers and I was stifling my moans in the stairwell at work, afraid someone would hear me.  A series of text messages and I can feel myself let go.  So simple, so easy, so much control given up.  I have no idea how long it will last, whether I can resist, whether I actually want to.  Only time will tell.  For now though, it’s something different and exciting.

September 26th, 2013

Fear Him

Tied down
Gagged
Naked
Sat up but baring all
Restrained
Rope across my neck, no pressure until I strain
My fear
Brutal canes
Haphazard hits
My obvious arousal
Random marks
His cold eyes
My fear
And still my arousal
The threat of the gun
The warning shots
My fear
His cruel laughter
My heart racing
His mind games
His blows with words, with taunts
Searching his face, searching his eyes, searching for something
Finding only my fear
Eventually my tears
His smile at that
Unbound, still gagged
Begging to be used
Begging for him
My broken body
My adrenaline filled shakes
My smiles
His arms, his safety, his comfort

September 22nd, 2013

Shiny Kitty

Yesterday, I got to experience something I’d been imagining for quite a while, something I almost thought I wouldn’t get to do with the person who had helped me realise how much fun and how sexual latex can be. I’d actually been pretty nervous about it all (and so had E) because we had talked about it so much and didn’t want it to be less than we had imagined.

Months ago, we had started to talk about me dressing up as a cat, all in latex.  We sent each other links to parts of the outfit; a cute little pet collar, pretty gloves, a set of paw mitts.  We talked about scenes, I wrote stories, we shared ideas.  Even thinking about it all would turn me on; not because I like animal play particularly but because I love the sensation of latex, the idea of a pet-owner dynamic enthralled me and there was just something about the way we talked.  I even set up a board on Pinterest, putting all the things I liked on it that I had or was going to buy for the outfit.  Then, on my last trip to Cathouse, I found myself putting a deposit on a made to measure catsuit, one of the largest latex purchases that I’ve ever made.  A few weeks later, I, rather nervously, ordered the hood.  It didn’t really seem very real until I got a text saying the catsuit was ready and a card through the letterbox from the postman, letting me know I needed to pick up a parcel that I knew must be my hood.  Even then, until the trip to pick things up, I was still thinking in terms of the fantasies in my head and my writing, not having a clue what it would really be like.

Then I got to do it, to dress up, with his help.  To slip on my perfectly fitting catsuit and new gloves.  To carefully zip on the hood, cute little cat ears and all.  To have the little collar fastened around my neck.  The first polishing, both of us grinning like children on Christmas day.  It felt so wonderful, to be almost fully encased in rubber, my catsuit hugging every curve, a (borrowed) corset nipping my waist in, the buttery soft hood across the skin of my face.  Considering that less that a year ago, I said to a friend that they’d never get me in a catsuit, this felt so natural.  The smell was delightful and the feeling of polish being worked into the material made me melt inside.

Kitty collage

We spent a lot of that evening just cuddling up, sharing the amazing feeling.  And then getting so horrendously turned on we had to do something about it!  I felt so cared for, so loved, so sexy.  To share this with someone who means so much to me, who I’ve explored so many new things with recently and for it to feel so good was just…indescribable.  We spent some time just hanging out, T and E both gaming, me happy to sit back and watch.  Even T, who’s nowhere near as obsessed with latex as we both are, was quite taken by the whole thing and was petting away at me.  E would get a little distracted by his game and then catch sight of me and get a little giddy all over again.  I was just so happy; I really am the Cheshire Cat!

I didn’t want to have to take it all off, to feel so naked again but we got to sleep in each other’s arms, falling asleep to words of love and happiness.  It certainly lived up to all my expectations and so much more.  I never expected to feel this amazing head rush, to have such a high from it all.  And to be so desperate to do it all again.  All the fears and nerves were for nothing, all the anticipation so very much worth it.  I really am to the point of accepting that part of who I am is a massive latex fetishist and to have someone to share that with makes me so very, very lucky.  The fact I have so much more with him makes me pinch myself just to check it’s not just a dream.

September 15th, 2013

Back to School

It was Club Lash on Friday.  As usual, I was helping the RWN guys and was able to actually carry equipment in and out of the venue!  That’s a huge deal for me as I’ve not really had the strength in my hip to be able to do it until now.  It was also the Skool! theme night, something I would often ignore but felt like dressing a little bit silly.

Once we were set up, he ordered me to get changed, to make myself look like the cutest school girl I could.  I already had my hair in buns, a look that automatically makes me look a lot younger and more innocent.  On went my plaid skirt, my actual school tie, white knee high socks, shirt and crazy Mary Jane shoes.  I felt so very young, so very vulnerable and very much taken back to being a well behaved girl from when I was at school.  The outfit preparation took me from giggling, over caffeinated me to submissive, well behaved me.  I had thought that I just wanted to be used that night but, from then on, I wanted to be controlled, looked after, protected.

Most of the time, our D/s relationship isn’t high protocol and definitely isn’t a 24/7 thing.  I will often be bratty, take control myself or just be spending time very much as equals, with one of my closest friends.  There are the times, though, that I want to be controlled, that I want to adhere to rules and protocol, I want to do almost anything to make him proud of me.

He started with rope work.  Stripped down to just white knickers and a ball gag, in front of what turned into quite a large crowd.  A sign of things that have changed for me as I used to hate wearing gags and the idea of them in public…  Trying so hard to not just shy away from people’s gaze, trying so hard not to bow my head in embarrassment.  Finding it easier with time as the rope caressed my skin and took me to my happy rope headspace.  Taking a particularly hard beating and caning whilst in stressful rope.  Then being let down, allowed to kneel at his feet, ordered to tidy his rope in exchange for my clothes, him knowing it’s one of my favourite post rope play activities.

Back to reality and he took me for some fresh air, a stroll around the Village, making sure I was well aware of people looking at me.  Showing me off.

Back to Lash.  Chatting with friends, having a drink, asking permission to play with K.  A lovely flogging that put me into a daze.  Heavy, with soothing caresses.

Then back he came, to finish his beating.  Fists pummelling me, teeth biting into my flesh, my body sinking lower.  And then the spanking came.  The heavy, full force, slaps to my arse.  Over and over again.  Followed by my shoulders, my back and my arse again.  Heat rising from me, body craving, back arching for more.  Him pushing me, wanting to hear me cry out, wanting the tears to flow down my face.  And they came, but only when to led me off and sat me down, looked me in the eyes and told me how proud he was, how much he loves me, how beautiful I looked.  I feel so lucky and am reminded of how much I have when I hear words like that.  And I earned myself my spanking merit badge.

Our parting moment, on my knees, kissing his boots, his other foot on my neck, pinning me down, putting me in my place.  The place I want to be.

August 7th, 2013

Pincushion


I have earned my needle play badge, I feel.

I’ve been playing with needles for a while now, mainly having other people use me as a pincushion. In fact, it’s something I’ve been craving again for a while. I also won some supplies in the SMD auction last year, and bought some extra stuff in the hope that I would get to practice on a willing victim play partner sometime. So far, that’s been on my own arm. Not quite so much fun, really.

The other night, I had a surprising opportunity. I have been playing with this person for a little while now and they are revelling in their submissive side with me at the moment. I am able to push them and we both get a lot from it. They have a terrible fear of needles though so I would have never even thought of it until they said they would take anything for me.

Now, I know this is a very risky place to be. When a person trusts you that much, how far do you really push them? I knew they were working on the needle thing as a practical, medical related thing so I talked to them. They knew their safeword, they knew I wouldn’t push them too far and they knew I was there for them, to bring them back, to look after them. Although, I obviously like needles, I wasn’t doing this for me.

Skin prepped, I used needles the same gauge that I know are used for venepuncture. Careful, gentle, reassuring. The power of piercing the skin flowing through me. The immense pride in my bottom. Not because they took needles for me but because they took them at all and so well. I just hope I have helped make life a little easier, have eased the fear just a little bit, for they are strong and able to take more than I ever imagined. They deserve the badge more than I do but, I hope, that when they see I have it, they’ll remember why I do.

image

I want to add that this was with full consent. I would never have done it without talking about it and stopped the second they wanted me to. I don’t play lightly with phobias and don’t think anyone should. I felt very honoured to be trusted this much and am very aware of my responsibility.

May 29th, 2013

Pet

I want to be your pet

I want you to dress me up and made me feel special

I want to be at your every command, to be at your beck and call

I want to kneel at your feet and be stroked, looked after

I want to be yours to play with and abuse

I want to sleep curled on your bed

I want to be locked securely into a collar and protected

I want to be yours for that moment

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 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!