Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Passion

"Sex without pain is like food without taste" Marquis de Sade

…I’m not necessarily talking about hot wax and nipple clamps here, but a little biting and clawing never hurt anyone (okay, hurt maybe but ….)

I saw this quote tonight and it just made me grin like a kid. It reminds me why I started exploring all this naughty bdsm stuff anyway…

Intensity. Passion. Complete and total abandonment of “that good girl” who was raised Catholic and a good girl and who always behaved herself like a lady (until I turned 16 apparently. That’s when my dad says I turned a 180 in the middle of dinner one time and never looked back).

These are the things that I enjoy. They are the things that make sex worth having for me, make the tangled hair (and take a look at the picture – do you really think I enjoy brushing fuck-tangles out of that?), the smeared lipstick, the ripped underthings and bruises, scratches and sore thigh muscles worth every minute.

Does every time have to be a circus? *chuckle. No. I can – and have – enjoyed what most kinksters would call “vanilla sex” many times in my life. But there is almost always some kind of “edge” to it. There is pain or teasing or someone holding my arms above my head. There is nasty whispering, directions, touching of one’s self for another viewing enjoyment. Those things on their own are vanilla (right? Ha ha). But they add a level to sexual enjoyment for me that I just don’t get from what I call “careful sweet sex” on a regular basis.

I’m a passionate person. When I believe in something, I go full out. I don’t back down. I explore eternally. When I want something, I try hard for it. I think endlessly. I feel deeply. When I am moved to tears you can bet your ass there is a damn good reason for it. I do not run from the depth of my emotion; I run toward it. I *enjoy. Period.

You’ll note one of the nicknames at the top of this blog is “Screamer”. Yes, it means what you think it means. And yes, it’s all part of the package – the part of me that enjoys intense sexual interaction.

This is, of course, not to say that a bit of spanking, the use of nipple clamps or a belt or paddle during sexual interaction isn’t something I enjoy. But it’s just to clarify – maybe just to myself – what it is I enjoy. And what that is, darlings, is passion.

Show it anyway you like. But show it often and proudly.

Hurt vs. Harm - Again.

There’s an age-old argument in the BDSM community about not playing when you’re angry. I’ve blogged on here about that before and I’m not going to go into it all over again, but a conversation with a friend recently brought up another extension of that discussion.

He said something along the lines of – “I could never hurt someone that I was dating.” (No, it’s not an exact quote, I’m not digging through IM logs for it, but that’s the jist of it.)

Now, this is not to say that this friend does not have dominant tendencies, he does. It’s also not to say that he doesn’t have any fantasies about force or spanking or shoving his cock down someone’s throat or anything of that ilk – he does.

But I think where things get tangled up for people is with the word ‘hurt’.

I’m pretty sure I’ve blogged about hurt vs. harm here before. If I haven’t, let me explain briefly:

Hurt: Cause pain but no permanent damage physically or emotionally.
Harm: Cause pain and permanent damage physically or emotionally.

The two words are far from interchangeable but they are interchanged sometimes, and it makes discussions like this much more difficult.

(I was actually working toward a different point, but I’m on a roll here so let me finish this up and I’ll get back on the other road. Further, this is not a discussion about sadists and masochists, or people who’ve been doing bdsm for years. It’s for anyone else who lives on the fringe of this.)

Maybe in casual relationships – those in which the two (or more) people don’t know each other all that well, hurt could be mistaken for harm and vice-versa. But if you’ve spent enough time talking with someone about your own fantasies and desires, and you’ve listened to theirs – along with exchanging fears and dislikes, too – it’s going to be pretty hard to tangle those two words up. For instance…

Discuss “face fucking” with partner. Male partner has it as a fantasy. Female partner is not concerned about it, finds the idea exciting. Male partner tries to pull it off one night. Female partner gags a bit, but doesn’t pull away or run away screaming. Female partner has tears on her cheeks during the “act” but isn’t really crying. “Scene” ends.
Did he hurt her? Perhaps.
Did he harm her? No.
When he asks her about it later, she admits that it made her weak in the knees.

He was concerned about hurting her, and he likely did (No matter how much you might enjoy a good sound face-fucking, gagging does not feel like a massage for the gagger *smirk). But he didn’t harm her – emotionally or physically – and the small amount of pain she endured was done out of desire for same.

Push my back up against a brick wall? Hurt? Maybe. Harm? Fuck no, hot as hell.

Getting a picture here? *evil grin.

With above-average communication skills, fantasies that involve a bit of “controlled force” can be highly charged and hellaciously fantastic for both people.

(And yes, Controlled Force is where I started this to go, but I got all kinds of distracted. I’ll come back to that later *wink)

Be careful how you define yourself......

I think one of the things about the bdsm lifestyle that bothers me the most is that people take their definitions of words like “dominant” and “submissive” to the extreme.

For instance, I witnessed a discussion recently in which someone stated that they felt that making any request to a dominant, as a submissive, was “topping from the bottom” and that they felt like they were telling the dominant what to do.

What?

Wait. So, if I’m a submissive, I don’t get to offer any suggestions or ask to try anything new?

Who the fuck made up that rule and where do I go to get that over-turned?

Talk about taking themselves too seriously…

Listen, I don’t know about other submissives, but my mind goes a mile a minute sometimes. I read a LOT, and talk to a lot of people and read a fair amount of erotica. Am I supposed to *not share anything I’ve read about with a dominant-type person simply because it’d feel to me (or them) that I was telling them what to do?

There is *no relationship in this world that cannot benefit from a bit of give and take from both sides. And frankly, I would be a poor match for someone who didn’t want my input in the sexual – or any other – part of our relationship. That does not mean that as a submissive that if I make a request or suggestion I expect to have it acted out RIGHT NOW – or even ever. But having the ability to say it – share it – ask for it – these things are pretty much necessary for me. I don’t speak for all submissives of course, but I would hope that anyone in an adult relationship would not gag themselves (err…wait) from suggesting something that seriously pushed their buttons.

Call me crazy, but defining yourself too strictly by what you think your kink terms mean can be hazardous to not only your relationship, but your sex life, too /wink.

What's on Your Mind?

One of the things that people in the bdsm community often pride themselves on is the added “trust” that’s inherent in their personal relationships as they relate to each other.

Why then, do you suppose, are discussions about how submissives always seem to have difficulty talking about things that are on their minds to their dominants?

I see about one of these discussions a week. And while I’ll admit that I have occasionally been guilty of this myself – when the trust, or more specifically the intimacy – seems to be in a downward flux in a relationship, I also have trouble swallowing the idea that submissives don’t or won’t do it because they’re being respectful.

What’s more respectful than tempered honesty? I don’t mean honesty to the point of being hurtful, but more honesty in the interest of a healthy adult relationship. If I want or need something I’m not getting from a relationship, chances are I’m going to find a way to say it somehow. I don’t see a point in suffering with it in silence for an extended period of time (say a year or more – like I used to). As with anything, relationships and relationship energy ebb and flow. And yes, patience is a virtue. But if you’ve waited a long time and you haven’t seen a change for the better, it’s probably time to speak up and let your partner know what’s on your mind.

When my ex joined the Navy, any and all bdsm in our relationship came to a screeching halt. Whether this was because of the Navy directly, or his internal energy levels, I still don’t know. But I waited a very long time – well over a year – to bring this up to him. He made a few half-hearted attempts at it, and I recognized the fact he was putting forth an effort, and let it be. As it turns out, that was all she wrote for bdsm for us, and it doesn’t really matter why – it just was. I had to make a choice at that point if the marriage or the bdsm was more important to me, and because of my relationship with him, I chose the marriage. But that was *my decision, and it was made after discussing the issue with him a few times in a few years. I didn’t just sit and wait for it to magically happen and I didn’t suffer silently for an extended period of time. (Some might argue a year is extended, but the fact is, he was gone for more than 8 months of that year on the submarine).

When the time comes and I have another consistent dominant-type person in my life, a high priority for me will be making sure that he’s fully aware of what’s on my mind. It’s not disrespectful to do so; it’s necessary to intimacy and trust. And anyone who thinks otherwise is fooling themselves.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

Eggshells

I don't like it when people walk on eggshells with me. And I don't like having to do it with other people, either. It makes me extremely uncomfortable from either side.

What starts out as being a protective thing usually ends up feeling more like a fear thing. "Oh, I can't say that, it'll upset them." Which results in trying to come up with something *to* say, which is forced and un-natural and makes me feel awful.

This is especially uncomfortable for me when dealing with someone I am submissive to, or I feel submissive to sometimes, or have been submissive to in the past. It feels dishonest, even though at the start of it, I'm trying to do something protective. I guess one has to weigh the warrant of it against the desire to be honest and open. And sometimes it is warranted. But even then, it's not something that makes me comfortable.

===
In other news, I got an email on alt today from someone who wanted to wash my hair and brush it for me. Considering some of the other ones I've gotten recently, it was pretty mild but for some reason it made me giggle.

Friday, February 23, 2007

Mirror

I woke up Thursday morning with a cute dirty-blonde looking back at me in the mirror. I went to bed Thursday night with a full-blown sexy blonde gazing at me *grin*.

I asked for highlights. I got a bit more than that. But spring is coming and I actually love the look. Maybe since I'm soon to be snowed in this weekend, I'll actually get some new pictures taken.

I'm getting a bit more used to the image in that mirror. Not just the hair cut and color, but the weightloss as well. It's a good feeling. I smile a lot.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Redirect, don't restrain

I send a lot of people to read here.

When I get responses from my ads (of the kink variety), I send them here to read to get to know me better. This blog says more about me than I can sum up in a paragraph, and shows how I express myself most of the time. I do make a conscience effort to keep most negative stuff out of here, though, and I'm wondering about that today.

Expressing myself when I'm in the mood to, whether it be positive or negative, is important to keeping my writing channel open. The last few days, I've had a very negative feeling around me. I'm not 100% sure why (I do have a pretty good idea), I need to express it, so I've been doing so in a private journal on my computer, rather than up here where half the world can read it. That's probably the healthiest thing I can do, both for myself and my writing.

But I'm wiping all that negative out today by doing something nice for myself /wink.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

This made me laugh

...and then it made me feel it.

Have you ever felt like a phone call that's been disconnected?

Shannen Doherty

I saved you

...I wrote a two page rant, and I decided to save you from reading it.

You'd thank me, trust me.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Percentiles

So, what percent vanilla are *you*?

This question was posed on a message board I read, and I really had to stop and think about it for a minute.

In reality, most of my life is vanilla. I have a vanilla job, vanilla family, vanilla friends. Despite the fact that I live, breath and sleep sex -- only a small portion of my time (on a typical day - lately my days have not been typical *wink*) are spent actually doing anything that pertains to sex in general. Even less that pertains to BDSM (*sigh*)

If we're talking in generalities, most of my life is vanilla.
If we're talking about sex, be it writing, reading, thinking, talking - I'd say probably a portion of my life is vanilla.
If we're talking about desires, it's some vanilla but mostly kink.

Now see, you kinda have to define vanilla here, too. But for me, vanilla means mostly that there's no kink involved at all. Kink is a huge range. Kink is anything (for me) from anal sex to age play to BDSM.

I'm a girl who enjoys a variety of kinks, and while being dominated is mostly certainly one of my basest and most prevalent desires and kinks, it's not the only one I have. "There is more to me than this."

So I guess I can't really answer the question (and didn't). But it's interesting to think about.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Playing Catch Up

I had a quiet night tonight, good for catching up with various boards, and emails from alt and another bdsm site I belong to.

A wonderful quote: "I want the kind of Man a Woman can trust when she can no longer trust herself. "

I got asked in an email tonight (y'all knew I was going to start sharing the silliness again didn't you?) if I had to classify my submissive self as one of the following, which would it be? The choices were passive, trashy, innocent, bratty or obedient.

What the hell - no "all of the above"? What kind of crap is that?

I am all of those things. Sometimes more than one at once. Sometimes I am none of them, and something else entirely. I do not fit one mold. I do not wear one pair of boots (you were expecting shoes there, weren't you? How long have you been reading here?). Over the course of a day, I can be many or none of them at different times. I sometimes adapt to my surroundings, I sometimes create my surroundings with my behavior.

I don't blame the guy. He probably stole the question from somewhere else. But expecting anyone - even a "submissive" to fit into one role 24/7 is akin to expecting the sun to stay out all night and day.

My response to him was simple: I asked what time it was where he lived. /shrug

As a nice bonus though, it was all spelled correctly and he used proper grammar, so I couldn't possibly be mean /wink.

Oh.

And if I see the word "Subbie" one more time tonight, I'm liable to go postal.

Monday, February 12, 2007

You Learn

Yea, you learn, cause I'm tired :p

I, recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone, yeah
I, recommend walking around naked in your living room, yeah

Swallow it down (what a jagged little pill)
It feels so good (swimming in your stomach)
Wait until the dust settles

You live you learn, you love you learn
You cry you learn, you lose you learn
You bleed you learn, you scream you learn

I, recommend biting off more than you can chew to anyone
I certainly do
I, recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time
Feel free

Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind)
Hold it up (to the rays)
You wait and see when the smoke clears

You live you learn, you love you learn
You cry you learn, you lose you learn
You bleed you learn, you scream you learn

Wear it out (the way a three-year-old would do)
Melt it down (you're gonna have to eventually, anyway)
The fire trucks are coming up around the bend

You live you learn, you love you learn
You cry you learn, you lose you learn
You bleed you learn, you scream you learn

You grieve you learn, you choke you learn
You laugh you learn, you choose you learn
You pray you learn, you ask you learn
You live you learn


Thank you, Alanis. I needed that.

Blasphemy

Awhile ago, I was given an idea to write a story with a religious theme. I found this difficult for several reasons. I started it three or four times. Religion is a hot-button for me. I was raised Catholic, and basically booted out of the church for my views on abortion and birth control. I don't believe at all in organized religion (which includes wicca as far as I'm concerned).

Well, my cable went out last night. No tv, no internet. So I was thumbing back through my list of ideas and saw that -- and decided to start from scratch.

The result is... well, I'm slightly proud of it.

Here's a nibble:

“Do you touch yourself like this at home? In your room at night?”

“We’re not supposed to….”

“But you do….”

“I have…”

“And what else have you done?”

“I can’t…I can’t tell you ….”

“You can. You trust me don’t you?”

“Yes, but …”

“Then tell me.” He leaned back again. “Or, show me.”

She didn’t believe it possible, but her cheeks burned even hotter then. “Father, please don’t make me….”

“Do you do things that make you feel good?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Then how can this be bad? The whole point of this experiment is to reward you so that you can learn to be a better girl, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but it’s…”

“It’s dirty, isn’t it?”

His words hung in the air, pushing against her. Her voice suddenly left her, and she could not answer him.

“It’s dirty and naughty to touch yourself, but you do. When the lights are out in your room, you pinch your nipples and you reach down into your panties, don’t you….”

“Father please….”

“Put your heels up on the edge of the desk.”

She swallowed hard again and let go of her breasts and pulled her legs up onto the desk.

“Spread them further apart. That’s better. Good girl. Now push your skirt up for me…over your hips… good.”

She began to do as he asked automatically. Tears hung in the corners of her eyes and her cheeks still burned, but she lost her fight.

“Now pull your panties to the side. No, better yet, just slide them off. That’s it, all the way off. Good. Put your heels back up now…further apart…fix your skirt….good. That’s perfect.”

Friday, February 09, 2007

Swamped

I wrote another "perspective" but I'm not going to post any of it yet. I'm not happy with it. It's a complete departure from what I typically write, and I'm not sure I captured the essence of what I was after. I'll read it again later and see if I feel the same.

However.

I do have another story I'm working on as I write this. I started it a few weeks ago, and couldn't find myself getting back into it tonight.

Writing is like this for me. It comes in bursts. When I am properly inspired, I can churn out 8 stories or so in a week.

I am currently so inspired.

This is a bit different. It's written from the perspective of two characters from a role-playing game. Two characters of different races, who find themselves alone in a swamp without companionship of the opposite sex of their own race.....

It's not finished, but here's a bite:

Remembering his warning about resistance, she swallowed hard, and leaned her head back against the soft grass. She spread her thighs as far as she could and prepared herself.
He nudged the head against her outer lips, rubbing it between them, wetting it. Slowly, he started running it up and down, grazing her clit with it several times before placing it at her opening and pushing just the head of himself inside her.
He howled at her warmth and wetness surrounding him. Orc women were built for orc cock. Troll women were built for smaller, leaner ones. She was tight around him, with just the head. He tried to push the lust aside long enough for her to get used to him but he knew it was a losing battle for much longer. Desperately trying to pace himself, he pushed in a small bit at a time, until he was nearly halfway there. He forced his eyes up to her face again, and saw her staring wide eyed at him.
“I can’t…”
“You will.” He growled.
A look of fear crossed her face, and drove his lust into overdrive.
He growled again loudly and grasped her hips, pushing himself deeper into her. She cried out but did not fight against him.
“Take it. You want it, I can feel your want dripping onto my balls….”

Different Perspectives

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day, and a scenario came up. A man, watching his "woman" (girlfriend, submissive, mistress, whatever) get fucked by another man, without the other man knowing about it.

There are so many ways to write that story. So many different possibilities. Is she doing it because he wants to? Because *she* wants to? Is it her fantasy or his? Is she teasing him? Teaching him a lesson? Trying to show him some new part of herself?

I decided then that I would write it. But I'd write it in two or possibly three different ways.

The first one, I wrote today. "Because You Asked Me To."

He doesn’t return to my breast, instead reaching down and unbuttoning my jeans, and unzipping them slowly. He doesn’t slide them down, but pushes me down onto the bed on my back instead, leaving my ass at the edge. He kneels down between my thighs and kisses me hard again, before letting his mouth slide down to my left nipple. Again, I try in vain to forget that you’re watching me, that you asked for this. You have always liked me to show off for you; but this is something new for us. Usually, you’re sated by me masturbating for you, but this time you wanted more.

And despite my initial misgivings and fears, I find myself completely open to giving you the best show you could ask for. As my companion’s hands run down my sides, stroking my skin as he continues to lick and bite at my nipples, I glance superstitiously at the ajar closet door, and give you a small smile.

He pushes me back onto the bed and starts to slowly pull my jeans over my hips. He takes the red satin panties with them. Once they’re off my feet, he drops them casually on the floor, and looks at me, head to toe. I run my fingers through my hair, and gaze up at him as he slowly starts to take off his clothes. I watch for a few moments, and then sit up. I reach for button on his jeans and he laughs at me softly.

"Impatient."

I nod at him.

"You’re ready for me already." It’s not a question, and I don’t answer. Nor do I offer up that while he’s very good at what he does, he’s not the entire reason that the room smells of my desire and my inner lips are slick and swollen.

You’re a big part of the reason for that, too. I lean back a bit on the bed, and spread my thighs apart a bit, to make sure that you can see what this has done to me.

My lover finally has his clothes off, and has my attention again. He moves closer to the bed and stands between my spread thighs, dropping slowly to his knees. I stay up on my elbows so I can watch him.

He runs two fingers on each side of my outer lips, caressing them before sliding them in between and parting them. With both hands now, he slides his thumbs inside and pulls my lips apart, leaning his head forward to taste me. His tongue barely grazes my clit and I moan loudly, lifting my hips up off the bed.

"So wet…." He murmurs softly into me. He looks up and sees me watching him. The idea seems to turn him on more, and he returns his face to my cunt. I wonder what he’d feel if he knew that you were watching, too.

He starts licking long slow lines up and down the length of my pussy, barely touching my clit and running the tip of his tongue around the entrance. He’s still holding my lips apart with his hands, and I wonder if you can see. I hope you can. I want you to.



That one is nearly five pages long. One of the longest I've written in awhile.

Maybe tonight I'll get to work on the second perspective.....

"Silence"

A bit of a story I wrote last night ....

I have to remind myself to breath. I’m waiting for you to say something but there is nothing but silence.

Two hands on my inner thighs, nails dragging upward until they reach my pussy. One hand, tapping it lightly. I’m drenched. The tapping sends the scent of me out into the air and it tickles my nose. You like me this wet. I wait for you to comment on it, but you don’t. The hand cups me, squeezing gently, and a finger glides slowly and effortlessly between my lips, coming to rest against my clit for a moment. I moan quietly and move my hips back and forth. The hand pulls away. I whimper in protest.

And then, nothing.



One finger pushes into me after a few moments, and I react quickly, pushing back against it. There is a hand on my hip, guiding me back and forth. A second finger joins it, filling me and fucking me slowly. I begin to pant rhythmically, grinding backwards until they are both removed. There is little pause before I am entered again; a hard cock sliding easily into me, pushing hard and deep. You do not pull back, but grind hard against me. I cry out and start to rise up on my elbows, but your hand pushes me down again, flat against the mattress.



You start to fuck me. Long, deep, slow strokes. Not what I’m used to from you. I’m not used to your silence either …



And it’s then that it occurs to me.



How do I even know it’s your cock inside me?



I shudder hard as a wave of fear and uncertainty races through me. I want to pull away, to crawl up on the bed and rip off the blindfold so that I can turn around and be relieved.



But I don’t. Because I am somehow intoxicated by that same uncertainty.



I fight it for a moment.

And then, I don’t fight.





It's good to have fantasies.....

It's even better to write them....

Monday, February 05, 2007

Fear

So, like I said, I made an appointment to get my hair cut.

I had the speech all ready for her today. No more than 2 inches, keep it simple (I'm so not a 30 minute in the morning hair kinda girl), etc. Turns out, I didn't really need it, much.

She did a fabulous job. She framed my face with a few layers (she said she'd add more next time if I wanted, she wanted me to get used to this first), parted my hair on the side for a nice change and recommended a couple of products that will keep me from frizzing in the winter and that will let my natural wave come on through.

I came home with an appointment for highlights in two weeks, and fabulous sexy hair.

After the highlights come new pictures.

After the new pictures comes a real social life (maybe) /wink.