Yikes

Remember when y’all encouraged me to ask for my toys back?  Yeah.

So I did that.  And then it set off a reaction, a chain reaction, and suddenly – like a kaleidoscope – things are different.  With a quick turn of the wheel, from this:

images      to this            images-1

 

 

 

 

 

Just that quickly.

I had kind of forgotten that, a long time ago, back when MP was my Sir, I had given him the passwords to my fetlife profile and my olivia email.  And the link to this blog.  Gulp.

Not that I actually had anything to hide – I have not done anything wrong.  Haven’t done anything that I feel guilty about.

But that might have been hard to believe.  I talked about some stuff, for sure.  And I talked to some people.  And some of the posts I’ve done might have been hard to read.   It might have been a difficult weekend for both of us.  Ok, it was a difficult weekend.

With lots of painful conversation.  And explanations.  And more conversation.

I was really not sure where we were going to land.

But this kind of amazing thing happened.

He understood.

No, not just “he said he did.”  He really did.

He wants to try again with the D/s relationship.  Which would have just made me skeptical, but – he’s going to get some Dom coaching.   (Yes, that’s a thing!)  So that he can work through his own stuff and we’ll have a chance to really make it work.

Wow.  That made me a believer.

I want to respect his privacy, so I’ll stop there, but I think that is sooooo cool, I just about can’t stand it.

Of course, there’s no guarantees on anything and who knows where we’ll end up.  It’s taken me a little while to even begin to let myself be open to the possibilities.  It’s kind of scary – um, I’m a bit scared.

I had shut myself off from him so thoroughly.  To protect myself, you know.  To protect my heart and my submissive little soul.   (Don’t laugh, you know it’s true!)

I didn’t want to open again.  Seriously, I didn’t.

But i am.  I can feel it starting – it makes me think of the scene in The Secret Garden, after she finds the garden when she’s looking at the plants – do you know what I’m talking about?  If you’ve read that book, you might remember.  Of course I don’t have the book with me, but it’s when she’s first in the garden and she sees that flowers are starting to push up through the ground and begins to clear away the weeds that have grown up over them.  And she’s not sure she’s doing the right thing, but just feels like they need room to breathe and grow.  She’s so amazed that the flowers are still there.

I guess it sounds silly, but that’s a little bit how I feel now.  Like i can make space for feelings i’d tried to bury.  Like springtime.

Anyhow.  He’s still MP right now.  Nothing has really changed yet.  But yikes – the possibilities!!!

 

 

Sex, Power, and Leadership: An online Conference {Free}

Sex, Power, and Leadership:

A Free Online Conference 

It occurs to me that some of you might be interested in this free online conference which starts Monday.  I should have mentioned it sooner, but better late than… you know, never.

Consensual Power Exchange as an Antidote to Patriarchy is one of the segments.  The line up of amazing speakers for this part is Lee Harrington and Midori, who are classic instructors and gurus in BDSM along with a couple of other people I hadn’t heard of, Kali Williams and Laura Antoniou, who might be equally famous.

The Power of Birth and Medicine: Where Sex and Power Intersect and Sex, Power & Trauma in Gynecology, Birth, & Motherhood also looked super interesting to me.  Ok, actually, it all looked super interesting to me.  Because I am a maniac, I spent the $100 to get the videos too, with workbooks for journaling and such.   I think the audio and workbooks package is $50, but I’m hoping to catch a lot of it “live.”  {Most of the presentations are videos, but the group watching is live and I’m assuming there’s an opportunity for interaction there.}

Anyhow.  Just wanted to pass that on.

Thanks for the support yesterday, I am feeling less like pond scum, which is nice.  I had started a different post, and will come back to it, I’m sure, but wanted to share the conference right away.

 

 

 

 

Things I forgot…

I forgot how much i love this song:

In case you can’t see it, or it won’t play, it’s Bob Marley doing Three Little Birds.  “Don’t worry, ’bout a thing, cause every little thing, gonna be alright…”

I forgot how much more fun it is to do dishes and other mundane chores when listening to reggae.  And –

I forgot how much better i sleep if i give myself a little orgasm before I go to sleep.  I mean, I have my Magic Wand next to my bed for a reason.  But too often, even when i’ve kind of revved myself up a bit before I lie down, i still fall asleep about as quick as my head hits the pillow.  Y’all, even using the wand begins to feel like a chore.  Silly, because –

I forgot how damn easy it is to have an orgasm.  I mean, a quick fantasy –

“But it is time,” he says.  Firmly.  Gently, but firmly.  “Go ahead and pull up your skirt and pull down your panties.”

i don’t want to do this, i don’t.  And yet the thought of doing it makes me shiver with anticipation, and i know that if i touched myself, i would be wet.  So i do it, i pull my skirt up so my ass is exposed and tuck it into the waistband before he even tells me to.

i hook my thumbs in my panties and pull them down to my knees, widening my stance so the panties stop there.  He doesn’t need to tell me to do that, i know what he wants me to do.

i’m facing the corner already, i can feel him behind me.  “Step back,” he says, “two small steps back.”

i step cautiously, not sure if i’m going to bump into him, but he steps back too.  “Now,” he says, “both hands against the wall.   That’s it.  No, bend your arms, I want you leaning forward.  Push your ass out more.  That’s it.  Offer me your ass.”

It’s just a bit awkward, and definitely humiliating.

“Get comfortable,” he says, which makes me roll my eyes.  “Once we get started, I’ll want you to hold your position.  I don’t want you wiggling around.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and i do shift my weight some to make sure i’ll be able to maintain the stance.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes, Sir,” i say, making sure my tone is pleasant and cooperative.  i don’t like the consequences when i forget to do that.

“We’ll start with the ruler,” he says and there is no time for breath before it lands, hitting both cheeks hard.   The second  blow is lower, the third lands above the first one.  i’m gasping already, the stinging burn driving away all thought, filling my world.

***********

In the meantime, the lovely wand pressed to just the right spots, one hand on a nipple, and that’s all I need – that scenario – and Whoosh!!   A lovely little orgasm that leaves me more relaxed than i’ve been in days.

Thank you, universe.  I’ll try not to forget!

 

 

 

BDSM History for Fun

A friend of mine posted an article on FB with these amazing pictures of dominatrix from the old days of BDSM.  They’re pretty fun to look at.  Here’s the link:

https://dangerousminds.net/comments/vintage_photographs_of_dominatrixes

Here are a couple of the pictures.

sexy-cruel-vintage-femdom-mistress-photograph-am

dom1hkjhkjhkkhkhkhkhkhhhhhhh_465_651_int

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I think they’re both pretty cool, but my favorite is the blonde. There’s something about the precision of her stance, the way the crop intersects the black triangle of her lingerie, and the whites of her thighs above her boots…  just lovely.

I wish they had posted a little bit about each of them, but they didn’t, so I’ll just have to wonder who they were, if they were really Doms or if they were models.  In either case, it would have been an interesting photo shoot

Watch This – Dungeon Fantasy 1

“Do you wish it were you?” he asks.

Without taking my eyes off the scene unfolding before me, i shrug.  “I dunno.  Maybe.”

“Is that how you answer me?” he asks, and there is laughter in his tone, but also a sharpness that had not been there before.

i turn to look at him.  “I’m sorry, Sir,” i say quickly.  “I – i really don’t know if i wish that was me.  Maybe, but I’m not sure, Sir.”

He nods, “That’s a better answer.  Let’s watch here a few more minutes, then we’ll move to something else.”

I turn my attention back to the woman in front of us.  She is at one of the stations in the dungeon, on her knees.  A man is fucking her from behind, another man is seated in front of her and i know she is sliding her mouth up and down his cock, although all i can see is the rhythmic motion of her head.  We are close enough that i can hear her moans, slightly muffled by the cock in her mouth.

The man next to me fists his hand in my hair, holding my head in place.  A whimper escapes me.  “What do you think you might like about that?” he asks.

“Oh,” my mouth suddenly so dry i can barely speak, “oh, i think, i think it would feel very -” i lick my lips, “very , um full.”

He releases my hair and offers me a glass of water.  “Drink.”  He holds it to my lips – well, I could not have taken it since my hands are cuffed and attached to the belt around my waist, so he holds it to my lips.

I drink, gratefully.   And remember to say,”thank you, Sir,” when he withdraws the glass.

“I think,” he says, “that it would feel more full if she also had a butt plug in her ass.  Keep watching her – don’t you think that would be even more full?”

“Ye-yes, Sir,” i say and my voice is shaky.

“Have you ever done that?” he asks.  “Been filled in all your holes at the same time?”

“No, Sir, i haven’t.”  i am shaking my head too, “no, Sir.”

“Well, not yet,” he says, and i hear the smile in his voice.  “Do you think you will – do you think you would like it?”  And then he adds, “‘I don’t know’ is not an acceptable answer, girl.  I’m asking if you think you would like it – obviously either way your answer might be wrong.  What do you think?  Would you like to be fucked with a butt plug in your ass and another man’s cock filling your mouth?”

i don’t think i can answer, but i remember to turn and look at him.  There is something about his face, his eyes on me with such curiosity, and so i say, “yes, yes, Sir, i think maybe i would.”

And then i’m embarrassed – i wish the floor would open up and swallow me, i can’t believe i just said that and what kind of person would even think they might like that, much less say it out loud?  But he smiles and says, “Good girl,” and all the shame slips away and i smile back.

“Thank you, Sir,” i say, and he nods like he understands why i would say that.

“Come on,” he says, “let’s go see what you might like in the way of being spanked.”  He stands, and i manage to stand too, although i’m a bit wobbly, between the heels i’m wearing and my hands being secured at my sides.

I’m wearing a corset that raises my breasts, as if offering them, and it’s obvious through the sheer material of my dress that my nipples are hard.  He glances at them and grins.  Bring his hand up toward my right nipple, coming closer as if he might pinch it, or flick it.  My nipple tingles, getting harder, anticipating the touch.

He stops.  His hand stops, a breath away from my nipple.  “Do you think you would like it if I touched your nipple?”

i swallow, barely able to breathe, looking at his hand, still so close to my nipple which is  poking at the material of my dress like it’s inviting him to play with it.  “Yes, Sir,” i say, swallowing hard again, “I would like it.”

He smiles, and drops his hand.  “Good girl,” he says, and i almost whimper again, with desire and longing.

“Follow me,” he says.  “See if you can stay just a step or two behind me.  I think Ms. Constance is going to start her caning demonstration in a minute.  I don’t want you to miss that.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, following behind him like a baby duck, trying to stay close enough without actually stepping on his heels.

Powerful Words

“For the rest of history, for most of us, our bright promise will always fall short of being actualised; it will never earn us bountiful sums of money or beget exemplary objects or organisations….

Most of us stand poised at the edge of brilliance, haunted by the knowledge of our proximity, yet still demonstrably on the wrong side of the line, our dealings with reality undermined by a range of minor yet critical psychological flaws (a little too much optimism, an unprocessed rebelliousness, a fatal impatience or sentimentality). We are like an exquisite high-speed aircraft which for lack of a tiny part is left stranded beside the runway, rendered slower than a tractor or a bicycle.”
― Alain de Botton, The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work

I’m doing some work on Conscious Aging, and when I ran across these words they slammed me like the voice of truth.  Interesting.

The next question, of course, is “So what?”  What does that mean for me and my life?  Or you and yours?