Friday, December 22, 2017

Where's the Line?

So, I slowly seem to be crawling out of this hole I've been languishing in for most of the year. I've started engaging with other humans. I actually go out to events. I even sometimes get out of bed during the day. I've started playing again, and with new people. Still haven't crawled back on the fitness wagon, but baby steps, I suppose.

As a result getting back into playing, my libido has kind of skyrocketed. I tend to be fairly libidinous normally, but not having a real outlet anymore has got me stirred up into a sort of sub frenzy. Not in the same way that you might think of, of just accepting the collar of whatever happens to show up. I'm too OCD for that, but my brain keeps going to what I can and can't do with play partners. Or rather, what I can feasibly do and retain my core values.

I have my codes, and I try to stick with them.

I'm trying to figure out how far I can let myself go with someone who could never be a romantic partner for me and keep my codes. Sex is off the table. I know that much. Sex is too...sticky for me. There are too many emotions wrapped up in that degree of intimacy. I view the joining of two bodies as a sharing of souls, and I inevitably develop more intense feelings for those I give my body to. I can't engage in casual sex for this reason. I find people too addicting, and being monogamous, becoming addicted to humans that belong to others is decidedly dangerous.

I tend to be more comfortable with more intimate play as I get closer to a play partner, but I've never quite gotten to the point where sex toys have come up. Wands, dildos, plugs, and such. Part of me, the frenzied part, I'm sure, really wants to go there. Because those things are always more fun when they're being used on you by someone else. Masturbation is well and good, but when your fantasies all skew in the CNC direction, there's quite a bit lacking there.

As a submissive masochist without having a dominant/sadist half, I've always felt a little selfish about being the one who receives all the sensations. Particularly when I don't reciprocate. I've been assured that toppy types get their unique jollies from stuff, but my brain is like, but I'm getting all the fun stuff. So that becomes another reason I hesitate to bring up more intimate forms of play.

I'm sure my bodily insecurities have more than a little to do with my fear of going there as well. I am also very conscious of the fact that pretty much all of the people I've played with are poly folks in established relationships. I don't want to unintentionally step over the line where that's concerned. But then I find myself hesitant to play with single men unless I find them viable relationship prospects because I don't want to foster emotions that won't come to anything. Also, playing with men that I'm not in a relationship with is new for me.

There's just so much conflict up here in my head about what is okay to ask of another and what is okay to ask of myself, what is okay to offer of myself, without compromising the rules which I have set for myself. How I can indulge in certain fantasies without crossing the line that would wound my soul. And, I suppose part of me is always afraid that people are indulging me rather than actually possessing a desire to do those things with me. I know that's ridiculous and irrational, but I have a lot of brain squirrels up here and they're loud as fuck. I'm bad at humans, okay?

I'm envious of those around me who have already managed to cultivate those play relationships where intense, intimate play isn't something that requires lots of internal deliberation. I hear others talk about the scenes they're planning, and I wish I had that. Or had that again. I had an easy play relationship like that a few times in my past, but they tended to be people I had taught, so scenes were limited in scope and I often did pretty much all of the planning. There's something alluring about experienced d-types. The ability to try new things. Not feeling like I'm directing all of the action, because I really hate controlling all of it.

I think that's why negotiations often amount to "Here's my list of limits. Aside from that, do whatever the fuck you want." I can't say it's the best of strategies, but I get tired of being a teacher. I just want to be able to give up that control. I want to feel that vulnerability that flips so many of my "fuck yes" switches in my brain, and I can't do that when I have to be aware enough to correct technique or know when something's not going right.

Basically, I'm doing better, but I'm still really fucking confused about so many things.

Thursday, December 21, 2017

e[Lust] #101

CandySnatchReview for Elust 101

Photo courtesy of Candysnatch Reviews


Welcome to Elust 101-

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #102 Start with the rules, come back January 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Email from my ex-boy

Geography

Two’s Company, Three’s A Crowd

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Why should we call ourselves sinners?
Repeated Patterns

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Fuck Yourself

 

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Fiction

The Red Chair ~ A Cuckold’s Story – Part 1
Caught Part 3: the punishment
Get up! Stand up!
Chastity Fiction: Aaron & Melissa

Body Talk and Sexual Health

The 39 Days
Do Not Delete

Thoughts and Advice on Kink & Fetish

Afflicted
Tooth and nail
Event Horizons
Bee’s wax

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Sex Q&A: An Adventure into Ass Play
She was poisoned by your utter indifference.
Orally Ambiguous

Poetry

-02.12.17_09:45-

Erotic Non-Fiction

Walk in, beat him, leave
What Is My Dream Trying to Tell Me?
Thought of Her
The Biter

 

 

 

Elust 88

Friday, December 15, 2017

A Festive First Bite



The local scene has regular rope nights every week where they teach different techniques. I haven't attended for the most part because it's an hour drive and, since I work nights, I'd have to leave early to get to work on time. I decided top pop up this last week though and volunteer as tribute, and popped my rope cherry in the process. I'm interested to see what other binds I can get myself into. I had to do a heavy edit on the marks to get them to show up, but here's the unedited tie photo as well.





Tuesday, December 12, 2017

My First and Only Experience with Canes

Seven years ago, I was in the first couple months of my first bdsm relationship, my first relationship, period, actually. I'd been on Fetlife for a bit longer, but I was still new. I was in the BDSM on a Budget group, and ran across the $1 toy thread. One of the things mentioned was a plastic candy cane yard decoration. you can still find them today. I got mine at Walmart, but I see them most often at Dollar Trees.

It's about 3 feet (~1 meter) long and made of multicolored braided plastic. I had never played with canes, and my experience with most toys was limited, but I was eager to try out new things and I was still in the NRE phase of my relationship.

My dom at the time did that annoying thing of counting up numbers of strokes (that typically went undelivered), usually adding to the number for ridiculous reasons. We got a chance to be alone at my house a few days after Christmas. We had initially planned a day of kinky fuckery, but the night before where he camped out on my couch, I was so sick from some bad meat I'd had at lunch, I didn't get any sleep.

I mentioned being ill when we got up, but he wasn't having any of it. I don't remember exactly what we did before, but I think we showered together. He had decided that he was finally going to make good on at least part of his persistent threat of punishment.

He decided that he was going to use the cane I'd just bought. I believe he had mentioned it previously and I had implored that he not go too hard because it was a new toy, and I was still skittish from a previous punishment where he'd used a spike-studded leather belt. He said he would go a little easy.

He did not. I couldn't think much through the pain, but I think I managed to count 36 blows, 30 with the cane, 6 rather hard swats with his hand. I knew I'd started bawling only a few lashes in, maybe from the very first, probably from the shock of it. I remember trying to stand up at some point because I couldn't take it, and he popped me on the back with it to make me go back down.

He then decided a bit of dry anal was in order, and I think that was almost as unpleasant as the caning. At some point, he pulled me up and gave me a choice between continuing with that or sucking him off and swallowing. Under normal circumstances, I'd have never consented to ass to mouth, but at that point, I was so stressed by the whole experience and I really, really didn't want him to put it back in my ass, so I agreed to the alternative.

I knew how this was going to go, however, so I convinced him to move to the bathroom where I tried to do what he wanted. And, of course, the acrid taste and the slimy texture of his semen, combined with the stress and the fact that I was sick, I, of course, immediately threw up into the toilet I was kneeling beside.

That was my first and only experience with a cane. I've not been really up to trying it again in the intervening years. I have made them a hard limit with play partners. I've never established it as a hard limit within a relationship, but I've always been pretty clear about my distaste for them.

I might, at some point, become comfortable enough with someone to try them during play, but I'd probably have to be tied down first.

It annoys me that so many things have been tainted by those first experiences. I carry a lot of issues from that first relationship to this day, and I really wish I didn't, but I'm not sure how to discard it.

But, anyway, that's the story behind my hatred of canes.

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2017!

I'm in the top 50! Number 47, but I'm on it and in the top half. Progress!

Top 100 Sex Bloggers 2017

  1. Kayla Lords: A Sexual Being
I think once Kayla turns her mind to something she dedicates herself to it 110% and this year the result of that is that she has managed to secure herself the No. 1 spot on this list. Her writing is always excellent and her content is hugely varied, she writes fiction, personal essays and thought pieces, as well as advice and reviews. She is an amazing resource for anyone looking for content about D/s relationships and I think she is absolutely deserved winner of this year's No.1 spot.
  1. Temperatures Rising
Mrs Fever appeared at No.10 on last year's list. She is an absolute wordsmith in my opinion. Her writing is intelligent, thought-provoking, sexy and passionate and I am constantly drawn back into her blog to get lost in her world of words.
  • Follow her on Twitter: N/A
  1. Girly Juice
Kate has absolutely earned her place in the top ten this year in my opinion. She is a talented and exciting writer and her blog is well designed and structured and in my opinion she is absolutely brilliant at what she does.
  1. Pain as Pleasure
This is a first since I have been doing the list; a blog going from the 'new voices' section straight into the top ten but Bibulousone has done exactly that. I find his writing utterly enthralling. He tackles the complexities of his life and relationship situation with a raw honesty that is both fascinating and addictive reading.
  1. Rebel's Notes
Rebel's blog continues to be of a consistently high standard both in the content she produces and in the layout and design of her site. This year has been a tough year for her dealing with her Mother's illness and passing but she is not one to shy away from writing about tricky difficult issues and the honesty she brings to her writing is something to be admired.

Follow her on Twitter: @Rebelsnotes
  1. Not So Sex in the City
This was a new discovery for me on last year's list and one I have continued to enjoy throughout the year. She is writer with a compelling style. She can make you laugh, cry and get turned on and sometimes that is all in one post.
  1. Pandora Blake
Over the years Pandora Blake's blog has changed and evolved alongside their own personal and professional evolution. As a result the content currently reflects their extensive work on fighting porn censorship in the UK and their blog is a hugely valuable resource for both those producing adult content and those consuming it not just in the UK but worldwide.
  1. Scandarella
Damn can this woman write a short story! Her blog is a mixture of reviews, personal essays and fiction and it is all extremely well written but her story telling is some of the best around and why she has not published an anthology of sexy wicked stories is a mystery to me.
  1. The Beautiful Kind
Kendra is one of the blogs which I was reading even before I started blogging. In fact she is a very small group of bloggers who definitely had a role to play in inspiring me to start my own blog. Over the years her story has been complex, difficult and inspirational and she has shared it all on her blog in her perfectly candid style.
  1. Red Hot Suz
And in at number 10 we have the awesome Suz. Her blog is a fabulous mix of well crafted sex toy reviews, thought pieces and personal essays that explore a large variety of sex related topics.
11 Love Hate Sex Cake @LoveHateSexCake
12 Tabitha Rayne @tabithaerotica
13 Little Switch Bitch @_littlesbitch
14 Bex Talk Sex @bextalkssex
15 Cara Thereon @thereon_cara
16 Denying Thumper @thumperMN
17 Domina Jen @DominaJen
18 Cara Sutra @thecarasutra
19 Hey Epiphora @epiphora
20 Innocent Loverboy @innocentlb
21 Emmeline Peaches Reviews @EmmelinePeaches
22 Poly . Land @polydotland
23 The Big Gay Review @thebiggayreview
24 Sexual Destinites @victoriavista1
25 The Other Livvy @theotherlivvy
26 Candy Snatch @CandysReviews
27 Miss Scarlet Writes @MissScarletUK
28 Grind N Throb N/A
29 Modesty Ablaze @ablazingmodesty
30 Ninja Sexology @ninjasexology
31 By Aurora Glory @AuroraGloryBlog
32 Miss Eve E. @MissEveBlogs
33 Holden and Camille @holden_cammie
34 Teachers Have Sex @teachershavesex
35 My Trickle Trunk @mytickletrunk
36 Wriggly Kitty @wriggly_kitty
37 Princess Previews @PrincessPreview
38 Ann St vincent @AnnStVincent
39 Happy Come Lucky @ht_honey
40 Exposing 40 @exposing40
41 Cleareyed Girl @_Masterseye
42 Random Red Rose @randomredrose
43 Joanne's Sex Machine and Sex Toy Reviews @joannesreviews
44 Kitten Boheme @kittenboheme
45 Victoria Blisse @victoriablisse
46 Jerusalem Mortimer: Between the Lines @JaimeMortimer
47 Rabbit in Chains @Rabbit_InChains
48 Poly Love & Sex @CPoly69
49 Floss Does Life @_floss_84
50 Sex is My New Hobby @SexIsMyNewHobby
51 Sex Matters @more_matters
52 The Redhead Bedhead @JoEllenNotte
53 Horny Geek Girl @hornygeekgirl
54 A Shared Wife @ASharedWife
55 Mary Q Confesses @maryqconfesses.com
56 Marvelous Darling @marvydarling
57 La Taverne Du Captain @captain_review
58 A to sub Bee @sub_bee
59 subs missives @Sum1Sub
60 Suggestive @suggestive
61 Cooler Than A Glass Dildo @NatandTom_
62 Not Just Bitchy N/A
63 Oh Gush @_ohgush_
64 Krystal Minx @BisexualMinx
65 Mx Nillin @mxnillin
66 Minxy & Caged @minxyandcaged
67 The Ins and Outs of Erika Lynae @erika_lynae
68 Collared Mom @CollaredMom
69 You Won't Tame this Sassy Cat @sassycat38
70 Sex, Death Rock'n'roll @violetfenn
71 Le Journal @Little_xsecret
72 Mischa Eliot @mischa_eliot
73 Exhibit A @EA_unadorned
74 The Casquetero Files N/A
75 Backwoods Bedroom @bkwoodsbedroom
76 Maria Open's Up @MSM1647
77 Sexologist Vixenne @DrVixenne
78 Miss Ruby Reviews @MissRubyReviews
79 Echo Explores @EchoExplores
80 Ina Morata @InaMorataWriter
81 Miss Jezebella @Miss_Jezebella
82 Cammies on the Floor @cammiesonfloor
83 Fiesty Fox Films @feistyfoxfilms
84 Dr. J @DoctorJAuthor
85 Emmanuelle de Maupassant @EmmanuelledeM
86 Poly Role Models N/A
87 Malflic @malflic
88 China Doll 320 @ChinaDoll320
89 F Dot Leonora @fdotleonora
90 Livvy Libertine @Livvy_Libertine
91 Life of Elliot @ElliottHenry5
92 My Sex Life with Lola N/A
93 Asrai Devin @asrai
94 stretchingcandi N/A
95 SweeteN Dirty @Sweeten_Dirty
96 Male Chastity Journal N/A
97 Chronic Sex @chronicsexchat
98 Dildo or DilDont N/A
99 Nicci Haydon @niccihaydon
100. YOU! The last spot is for the all the other awesome sex bloggers out there. It is just not possible to include everyone, I relied on the nominations to gather the list and I am sure there are people missing, but this place is for you because every single one of you counts and contributes towards this community.

Saturday, December 2, 2017

Rubenesque


Sinful Sunday

Star Talker: Part 19: Debriefing

This is one of my more recent paintings that I've added a number of filters
to in order to achieve the lighting effect. I like the physical painting, but I
feel this is the effect that I was initially trying to create.


Rha'han scrolled through the battle reports on his tablet as the rest of the ship captains filed into the room. Each took a seat the large table facing the large screen behind their fleet commander, Fahrash. Fahrash was an older man, his dark grey hair pulled back into a severe knot at the base of his skull. He hailed from the southern regions of the empire, as evidenced by his dark copper skin and the short black horns that crowned his head. His gaze swept around the room, lighting on each of his subordinates in turn. When he landed on Rha'han, he looked down at his tablet, frowned, and looked back up at him suspiciously.

Fahrash cleared his throat. "If you've had a chance to take a look at the reports you were sent this morning, you'll be aware of yesterday's victory. All Terran presence on the continent has been subdued and thirty-two prisoners in total have been taken into Klotharan custody. Two Jin Fai ships were brought down and fourteen Jin Fai females were captured as a result. All males executed. Rha'han?"

Rha'han straightened a bit. "Target was the Centauri research facility located in the Bassir region. Eighteen females were captured. Fifteen Terran, eight potentially viable mates. One Candarri of breeding age, and two cephaloid females that will be returned to their planet. Twenty-seven males executed at site."

Fahrash nodded. "All will need to be interrogated, of course. The fact that both sets speak different languages will be complicated. Are there any Terran translators currently stationed in the Citadel?"

"Negative, sir. Capital-based Terran translators were conscripted by His Highness, the Ambassador, for the annual summit. They have not yet returned," Ma'dar said, scrolling on his tablet. "There are a few in the database stationed at various outposts. We could call one in, but it may take a couple of days for them to get here."

The commander frowned.

"Not necessary," Rha'han said. All eyes turned to him. "One of the Terran females acquired from the Centauri facility was their interpreter. She can at the very least translate for her own people, and there is a strong possibility that she is familiar with the Jin Fai's primary language."

Fahrash squinted down at his tablet. "You said fifteen Terrans were captured. I only see fourteen listed on the holding roster."

"That's because I branded the interpreter on the ship. She's currently in my apartments." Rha'han noted several eyebrows went up.

"Bold move," Fahrash said, still eyeing him. "Not sure the Shara will be thrilled with that decision, but it might make the woman more compliant to our demands."

Rha'han wasn't so sure about that. "If she's not, I'm sure she can be persueded."

Several laughs erupted around the room.

Fahrash went around the table, having each man give his report. Rha'han listened intently, jotting down relevant notes in shorthand on his tablet screen. After explaining the interrogatory itinerary, the meeting dispersed, and Rha'han returned to his office in the military sector. The next few hours were spent cataloguing notes, filling out weapons paperwork, and relaying orders and the other bureaucratics tasks that came with his position.

A remote login alert popped up in the corner of the screen on his tablet. He frowned at it. What in the world? He picked up the device and tapped the alert, bringing up the display of his home computer. A few different net screens were pulled up, all in a language he didn't recognize. The more concerning issue was the console pulled up in the corner of the screen, programming language scrolling past at an alarming rate. He minimized the computer display and pulled up the security app, tapping the camera for the study. An image of Selena in a lovely violet gown rapidly typing at his desktop appeared on the screen.

"Ah, hell."

He maxed the computer app and flipped off the network access for his apartments. He transferred his camera display to the home screen.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Sunday, November 26, 2017

Orally Ambiguous



I've been thinking about oral sex a lot lately. It seems to be a topic that keeps popping up in various chat groups I pop into from time to time. My relationship with oral sex is...complicated. Or perhaps not so complicated. I guess you can be the judge.

I've never really been fond of oral, particularly giving, a fact I've never shied away from here, or anywhere else for that matter. The act has never really appealed to me. It was never something I fantasized about, and I always found it fairly distasteful when the subject was brought up. Blow jobs just really aren't my thing. They have never conjured up pleasant or arousing imagery for me. Mostly just a nose wrinkle and occasionally a disturbance in my digestive force.

That's not to say I'm unwilling or unskilled. I don't find it so unpleasant that I refuse to do it entirely, although my first dom seemed to try and make me hate it with his rather aggressive approach. But I've been told I'm actually pretty good at it, despite my distaste for the act. I'll do it, and do it to the best of my ability, I just won't typically initiate the act or become aroused by performing it. It's purely a service act for me.

As for cunnilingus, well, I addressed that in Factory Defect, and my disappointment in not thinking it's the best thing before and after sliced bread. I can write some pretty hot scenes depicting it. But my handful of experiences with it have been largely unpleasant.

However, a recent conversation got me thinking. I think I might enjoy oral attentions as long as the focus wasn't on my clitoris and getting me off. I can't get off from it. I find the tip of a tongue worrying at that little bundle of nerves overwhelming and annoying, and holding the labia apart to actually be rather painful. But, perhaps, I might enjoy some kissing, some licking of the lips, perhaps some nipping.

But, by all that's good and wonderful, leave mah damn clit alone, for cripe's sake.

I'm not at a point with anyone where I'm game to try again. No romantic prospects at this point, and thus no sexual ones, but it's nice to at least be hopeful about potentially enjoying some aspect of oral at some point. So many men claim to like it, and I would like to accomodate an eventual owner in most things. And it's such a small thing. But knowing more about myself and my body now, I'll address that ahead of time when the time eventually comes.

Honestly, it does sound like good foreplay, as long as we aren't trying to dig our way to China diving for pearls.


Sinful Sunday

Saturday, November 18, 2017

Black Hole


I can feel the very edges of me folding in on themselves.
The weight of my soul is too much,
the gravity too strong.
My weak flesh can no longer withstand the pull.
I am collapsing from within,
each layer condensing into that infinetismal singularity,
an inescapable void.

I see the light around me
twisting and distorting,
swirling, spiraling into my darkness,
consumed, unable to escape.

I can cultivate no brightness of my own.
The hunger of the dark is too strong.
It devours each spark,
inhaling each flame,
until nothing but darkness remains.

The last of my luminescence was lost
in that splendid explosion
which cast those glorious remnants
of strength
into the vast expanse of the cosmos,
lost, even, to the ravenous shadow
I have become.

I strive and strain
to draw in the radiance around me,
to,
perhaps,
replace those glimmers of self
scattered by my super nova.

But I only watch in horror
as that borrowed light unravels before me
sinking into the silent obscurity,
swallowed by the endless shade.

And I wonder,
is that gleaming gone,
is the blackness all that's left?
Or are those fractured fractals
still in there somewhere,
clamoring for release?


Sinful Sunday

Friday, November 17, 2017

e[Lust] #100

Photo courtesy of Wriggly Kitty

Welcome to Elust 100-

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #101 Start with the rules, come back December 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!


~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

He’s Out of My League

Pink Hair, Don't Care!

I’m a feminist but...

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Pain Sluts and Brain Squirrels

His Car Keys

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Raw

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Writing About Writing

Why Financial Disclosures Matter on Your Blog

Erotic Fiction

Caught
An American Werewolf in London
The Spider and the Fly
Faithfully
kitten

Body Talk and Sexual Health

Static
Over exposed?

Erotic Non-Fiction

Mirror Image
Return to Position, Part 1
One Present Moment
Edgy Morning
The Date-Aversary Continues
The Smell, Taste and Love of Chocolate.

Poetry

-01.11.17_18:26-

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Asking can be sexy too!
Soaring in Space
Age Play
MY PEOPLE, HER PEOPLE. The FemDom ball
Stroke of luck

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Adult Content on Patreon
Censorship on Share our Shit Saturday
#SSoS Sharing for the Win

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

#iTalkSex Why I Talk Sex
Radical Acceptance In Relationships
So... ghosting is an acceptable thing now
What giving a collar means to me

Blogging

Reflections on us and the blog





Sunday, November 12, 2017

Shadow Play


I used this image previously as a header for a different post, but I like it so much, I think it deserves a feature on Sinful Sunday. My love of chains is boundless and I hope to soon acquire a set of stainless steel irons, because yes.


Sinful Sunday

Saturday, November 4, 2017

Star Talker: Part 18: Culture Shock


I reluctantly submitted myself to Daesha's attentions. Wincing into the pillow as she applied the salve to my bruises. I wrapped the towel back around myself as she disappeared into the bathroom to presumably wash her hands. She returned swiftly, gliding gracefully across the room toward the wall of cabinets and doors. She slid open a door to reveal a closet inset into the wall. An array of gowns in various jewel tones lined the rail. Daesha turned back to me, gave me a quick once over, and plucked a deep purple from the selection on display.

She approached with the garment, dropping her eyes to the floor. "May I?"

I slid off the bed and stood in front of her. She smiled, fins billowing again, and dropped the gown over my head, tugging it into place. It was an empire cut, the waistline hugging me just below the bust. The lining was comprised of a silky material that felt rather luxurious against my skin. Daesha caught up the two bands of fabric at my left shoulder and wound them through some sort of brooch, pulling them until it fit snugly.  I noted that the dress only had one shoulder, leaving the bandage over my brand on display.

I fingered the brooch, noting that it was in the shape of some sort of large-tailed bird made of a collection of colorful stones. "Are all Klotharan gowns like this?" I said to Daesha, who had knelt to put some sort of matching slippers on my feet. They reminded me of dance shoes.

Daesha looked up at me, her gaze drifting to my fingers worrying at the brooch. "There are different cuts, colors, embellishments and such. There are different qualities of materials depending on the wealth of the family in question. Some have more complex designs. However, all gowns of mated women are designed to display the marriage brand. Unmated women tend to cover both shoulders. Those with two mates typically wear halter styles."

I blinked. "A woman can have two mates?"

Daesha nodded, digging through a small case of jewelry, holding various pieces up to me as if judging their appropriateness. "With the abundance of men on the planet, it is not an uncommon arrangement, particularly among the lower echelons of society. The bride price is easier to manage if two men contribute. Sometimes brothers will take on the same mate as well, if the family can only afford one bride price."

Well, that was fascinating. "Are there ever men with two female mates?"

Daesha slipped some gold bangles on my wrists. "It's not unheard of. If a man is rich enough to purchase marriage contracts from off world races, then he can acquire two mates. No man has ever had two Lo'Rahni women for mates as far as I know. It's considered the height of greed to deprive others of a potential mate when you already have one. Now, sometimes, two mated couples or triads will come together to form a single household, particularly if some of the partners have a taste for their own sex."

"What about female only pairs?"

Daesha stood back from me, examining her work. "That is only permitted if both females involved are infertile. Even if that is the case, they are still required to be attached to a male's household in some capacity."

The anthropologist in me was positively humming. "How thoroughly archaic," I said in wonderment.

Daesha shrugged.  "It is simply how things are. You've seen their men. There are benefits to having one of those hulking creatures on your side."

Her eyes went wide briefly, then dropped to the floor. "Apologies, Mistress. I overstep myself."

I snorted. "Well, you aren't wrong about them being hulking creatures. No harm in the truth."

She seemed to purse her lips. "You are going to get me into trouble eventually. I know it."

I tilted my head. "That is probably not inaccurate. I seem to be quite gifted at getting myself into it. Splash damage is probably a good possibility."

I looked down at myself, the lush gown flowing delicately around my ankles, gold bangles tinkling at my wrists, a jeweled brooch at my shoulder. "Aren't I a bit overdressed for being confined to the apartments?"

"This is actually one of the simpler gowns that was purchased. Besides, Master will want you well-dressed regardless of confinement."

I turned, feeling the silk graze the skin of my ass. "And...um...underwear?"

Daesha blinked, confused. "Under what?"

"You know. Smallclothes? Things you wear under your clothes?"

Daesha frowned. "Why would you wear clothes under your clothes?"

I raised my eyebrows. Well then, something to add to my notes later. Underwear didn't exist in Klothar. At least, not this part of it, anyway.

I clasped my hands in front of me. "Care to give me a tour?"



Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Saturday, October 21, 2017

Star Talker: Part 17: Morning Ablutions


The other side of the bed was empty when I woke. I was keenly aware of the missing pressure of his arms around my waist. I rolled over and sat up, hissing at the ache in my backside. My movement must have triggered the lights, as a white glow appeared around the perimeter of the ceiling and intensified to mimic the effect of natural light. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, noting the heavy metal cuffs still adorned my wrists. I slid off the bed, even the softness of the sheets scraping against my raw skin.

A small note sat on the beside table next to a cobalt blue ring. The note simply said "Your key" in a surprisingly delicate script. I slipped it on my finger and shuffled off to the corner of the suite where another lavatory appeared to be. It was much smaller than the bathroom from last night, but it was appointed with a toilet and a generously sized shower. I poked around in the cabinets until I found a stack of enormous, plush white towels. I quietly relieved myself and proceeded to figure out the switches that operated the shower. A strong spray erupted from three different shower heads, converging in the center of the stall.

I walked into the spray, moaning with pleasure as the hot water ran over my aching flesh. The water pressure was delightfully strong, almost massaging me from all directions. I pulled a bottle of soap from the shelf of toiletries on the shower wall and proceeded to scrub away the dried sweat and the sticky remnants of the rather intense coupling of the night before. My shoulders were sore from the weight of the chains and from being strung up, but the hot water beating down on me was easing the stiffness in my muscles.

I turned my head, noting the far wall of the shower was a wall length mirror. I rolled my eyes, wondering if the mirror was a result of severe narcissism or simple lechery. I stepped out of the spray and turned to examine my ass. Splotches of deep purple decorated my skin low on my buttocks, and a few had bloomed on my thighs. I touched the colorful spots, finding them tender to the touch.

I returned to the water, washing my hair with the fruit-scented soap, which I now realized was scented with maasi berries. I wasn't sure how I felt about the night before. The sex had been fantastic, but my ass hurt like hell. Aside from the bruises, I was no worse for wear, but that shock wand had fried my brain and that fucking paddle needed to die in a fire. All in all, it wasn't an insurmountable situation. Rha'han, despite his...sternness, seemed a decent sort of man. He had done very well with my needling so far.

I just needed to figure out what I was going to do. Centauri Prime would be expecting our monthly research notes, inventories, and status reports in a few weeks. Investigations would be launched when no response was given. Once they realized what had happened, Lo'Rah's global IP would be blocked from accessing Centauri satellites and any of us still in possession of our Arkivs would also be blocked from accessing the Centauri data banks. The only data files we would be able to access would be those already on our tablets and those on Arkivs still on Lo'Rah. The situation was a diplomatic nightmare. I wasn't above wanting the Lo'Rahni to pay for the unprovoked attack on our facility, but I didn't really want to be stuck on a banned planet.

I turned the water off and wrung the excess from my hair. I stepped out into the cool air of the room, wrapping myself in the fluffy towel, using the ends to dry off the cuffs. Daesha was standing near the bed when I came back into the bedroom. Another tray sat on a small table beside the bed with some fluffy eggs, a few pieces of fruit, and a piece of toasted bread on a plate. A smaller tray sat beside it with bandages and two jars sitting on it.

"Good morning, Mistress, " Daesha said with a small curtsy. "I see you already found the shower. I have brought you breakfast."

I tucked the towel so it would stay in place and took a seat at the little table, gingerly eating the proffered fair. "Thank you. This tastes wonderful," I said, taking a bite of the airy eggs.

She smiled, fins billowing happily. "If you will permit me, Mistress, I can brush your hair for you."

"Um...okay," I said, slightly uncomfortable. I had vague memories of slaves brushing my hair when I was living on the Lo'Rahni ship as a child, but no one had done so since.

Daesha was infinitely gentle, drying and combing until my hair fell in a smooth sable sheet. She then began weaving it into a complex braided knot similar to what Rha'han had done to my hair. I guessed it was some sort of popular style here. By the time she had finished, I had finished my meal.

"Master has bid me to change your bandage and treat your bruises. If you'll permit me, it shouldn't take more than a few minutes." She clasped her hands demurely before her, her voice pleasant, but I  could hear the uncertainty in her tone.

"You can change the bandage, but the other is unnecessary."

Her eyes shifted, then dropped. "Ah...may I speak freely, Mistress?"

I sighed. "I'm not from a planet with slaves. You can always speak freely with me. Please do, actually. And you can call me Selena."

She opened her mouth slightly and closed it a few times. "I'm not sure Master would approve."

"Well, he's not here, so who gives a shit?"

Daesha's eyes widened.

I sighed. "Sorry. If it makes you more comfortable, you can just do it when he's not home and do whatever it is he prefers when he's here."

She looked off to the side, contemplating my request. "I suppose I can do that." She then busied herself with stripping my bandage and cleaning the brand. "I strongly advise you allow me to treat the bruises as well. Master wishes it done and will be displeased if it is not."

"Surely he wouldn't blame you for my refusal."

Daesha arched a scaled brow. "It won't be me he's upset with. Trust me, it would behoove you to acquiesce. It's just a simple ointment. It will make them heal faster." She pressed the edges of the bandage down, forming a seal against my skin.

I gritted my teeth. "Fine."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you...Selena."



Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Friday, October 20, 2017

e[Lust] #99

Elust99 Exhibit A Header

Photo courtesy of Exhibit Unadorned


Welcome to Elust 99-

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #100 Start with the rules, come back November 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Private Eyes
Brittle
Lust Highway

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

I love a man in a suit
Church Smells, Beliefs and Fornication

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

The House Next Door

 

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Feelings about bisexuality
On scheduling sex
Reasons I Didn't Orgasm That Aren't About You

Erotic Non-Fiction

Wet on the Washer
Smack
Alice Takes a Spanking
The GP - Part Two

Erotic Fiction

Rope Tattoo
Poseidon
Taking the Lead
Rites of Passage ~ Part 4
Home
Spanking Desires
How Could I Resist
Summer Smoke
Angel on My Shoulder

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Marks are Memories on the Skin
Him. His cane
Being Naked
A Prickly Situation
Collars in bdsm: Where did they come from?

Poetry

Secret
-05.10.17_15:03-

Sex News ,Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

“What Were You Wearing?”

 

Elust 88

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Pain Sluts and Brain Squirrels

One thing I see come up a lot online in regards to kink is the subject of mental illness. Whether it's safe to play with someone who has one, or how BDSM doesn't replace an actual therapist, or how you shouldn't use BDSM like therapy.

I, personally, have OCD with a social phobia and periodic depression. I've had them for all of my post-pubescent life. Due to my brother's disastrous history with the local mental healthcare, I didn't see a psychiatrist until I was in college. It was a shit psychiatrist too. Charged $300 for a 10 minute appointment to promote a therapy I couldn't possibly afford. I finally started getting my meds from a physician, but it wasn't until last year that I found a doctor that finally put me on the right medications.

But, I've been in the lifestyle since 2010. I've been in the scene since early 2011.  And, I have to say, BDSM has done way more for me psychologically than doctors ever have.

Prior to entering the scene, I was an antisocial virgin with acute physical paranoia. I only had a handful of friends and I didn't like anyone touching me who wasn't a close family member. When I was still going to church, my preacher once touched me under the chin and I had to fight real hard not to instinctively take a swing at him. I was terrified of people. Well, I still kinda am sometimes. And, Lord knows, I didn't touch anyone if I could help it.

Discovering masochism and the community was a Godsend, honestly. And it makes sense, because I used to cut as a teenager to help deal with the untreated depression. But that first flogging? Everything just clicked. The nausea subsided, my brain finally stopped screaming at me, the tension headache I'd been nursing just bled away. It was bliss.

I have always been my happiest when I'm getting beaten regularly. Even during my long distance relationship, I had play partners in the scene who took care of my masochistic needs and I was happy. I wasn't depressed. I still had my OCD, but I wasn't laying around staring at the ceiling all day with no energy for anything.

For the last 8 months or so, I've been without regular play, and its been a rough go of it, I assure you. Probably some of my lowest months, well, ever. Major life events have triggered it, sure, but I was without what I now realize was self-medication. The best kind, really. Forcing my brain to produce its own chemicals without drugs.

Now, I am medicated, but even so, the last two parties I've attended, I've gotten a beating. And I noticed, after that first one in a long time, my mood jumped way up. I still wasn't as energetic as I used to be, but things definitely improved. I cleaned out my car for the first time in months. (It was pretty gross in there, by the way). I cleaned my room for the first time since I'd moved. Things were just...better.

This weekend was great. I had a friend stay over, we went to another kink party. I beat her. I got a great beating from someone I'd never played with before. I had an orgasmic piece of chocolate cheesecake yesterday at lunch. I am riding high.

I also started a new medication this week, but I haven't been taking it long enough for it to take effect, so this is all the masochist fix working.

People say not to use BDSM as therapy. But honestly, why not? Finding this community has done more for me than the medical profession ever has. And there are so many with similar issues in the scene. We can talk about different medications and psych issues without fear of judgement or stigma. There are others here that know the row you hoe.

I'm not saying eschew therapists entirely. For many issues, that's obviously not a good idea. But, honestly, kink is my therapy. I don't have panic attacks when people touch me anymore. I have more than 4 friends. I actually leave my house and do things with other humans. I'm still awkward as fuck, but I'm always going to be that way. I still don't have the best self-esteem, but I'm way better than I was when I came into all of this.

I have my pills, but honestly, BDSM, masochism, this community. This is my wonder drug.

Saturday, October 14, 2017

Star Talker: Part 16: Feral Passions


There was an oddly alluring combination of fear and fury in her expression as she looked down at his improvised rigging. She tried to draw her knees together, but the few centimeters she managed weren't enough to shield herself. Rha'han tilted his head, considering her, watching the trickles of fear being swallowed up by the anger. He plucked a midnight blue sash from a drawer and tied it around her head, taking away her sight. Every muscle in her body tensed as if readying for battle.

She jumped slightly as he drew the tongue of the crop gently up the length of her thigh. He whispered calming nonsense as he continued the trail of the leather across her body, as if speaking to a spooked animal. Her breathing slowly returned to a somewhat normal rhythm, although her chest still heaved with long deep breaths. He circled her, using the crop like a paintbrush to draw the letters of his name in Klotharan calligraphy all over her body. She stretched her fingers in the chains, curling them into fists, and releasing them. Slowly, she relaxed, shivering occasionally when he trailed over a sensitive spot.

He snapped it up between her legs to strike her damp and swollen lips. Selena cried out, squirming in her bonds. Rha'han smiled at the sound. She sounded startled, but not pained. He landed a few more pops, just hard enough to sting a bit, but nothing too hard. Her breath quickened. He snapped the leather across each delicate nipple, watching the small globes bounce with the impact. She gasped. He did it again and capped it off with another slap of her sex. She was panting again, fidgeting restlessly. He flicked the crop low on her ass several times, watching the skin there blush pink to match the bruises forming from the paddle.

Her hushed whimpers filled the silence around them, meshing with the snaps of the leather to create a rather enticing melody. He kept a steady rhythm, striking with varying intensity, always in a different place, always returning to the heat at her core. She was panting now, muscles flexing and straining, reaching for something she couldn't quite grasp. He drew the leather gently up the length of her slit, stopping just over the bundle of nerves nestled beneath the lips.

She sucked in a breath. "Please," she said, the plea barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, laying two of his large hands on each of her hips. "Please what, miiyah?"

Her jaw tensed and ticced. She let out a long, slow breath. "If you make me say it, I promise I will murder you in your sleep."

He barked a laugh and detached her cuffs from the chains. She groaned as he eased her arms back down to her sides, massaging her upper arms to restore blood flow. Tossing the crop aside, he knelt and released her ankles. He scooped her up into his arms as he stood and carried her to the bed. He tossed her onto it. She bounced a bit, flailing as she fell. He climbed atop her, forced her thighs open with two of his hands and plunged into her heat.

She moaned as he moved within her, turning her head back and forth, still blinded by the sash. She lifted her arms, reaching out for him. He grabbed her arms below cuffs and pinned them firmly to the bed, continuing his wild thrusting. She pushed against his arms, but her efforts were weak. He could feel her hips rocking with him, the muscles of her sheath contracting around his cock. Her slightly parted lips caught his attention. He captured her mouth with his, devouring those lips, plundering her with his tongue. She responded enthusiastically, biting his lower lip sharply, sucking it into her mouth, scraping it with her teeth as he pulled free of her. He growled, kissing her more forcefully. She met him stroke for stroke, ravaging his mouth as he ravaged hers. He released one of her wrists to get better leverage. Her arm shot up and she wrapped his hair around her fist, yanking hard as she bit his lip again.

He lifted up to shove the sash off her face. Her eyes were glowing galaxies awash with feral passion. She pulled at her other hand. He released it, and it joined the other to tangle itself in his braids, pulling his head back down so she could swallow him up once again. He reached down between them and found that bead of flesh that drove women crazy. She moaned into his mouth as his fingers danced around it. He could feel her abs twitching, her thighs straining, the movement of her hips becoming more erratic as she chased the high which he was pushing her into. She came with a long, loud moan, muffled by the press of his lips. Her body convulsed around his squeezing around his length, her body brushing against every bit of him. He slipped a hand around her throat and lifted up to look her in the eyes as he moved faster, chasing his own high. She clawed at his hand, but her gaze never wavered from his, the black holes of her pupils nearly consuming the entirety of her galactic pools.

He grunted his release, milking himself with her body with slow strokes. He rolled off of her, wiping the sweat from his brow. She gulped in air, panting, sinking into the bed. She grabbed the sash and wiped beads of sweat from her own face.

She turned to look at him, eyes still dark. "That was interesting."

He jerked his head toward her, eyes narrowing. "Impudent little she-beast."

He dragged them both up to the nest of pillows at the head of the bed and pulled her against his chest, wrapping his lower set of arms firmly around her middle, preventing any escape. "Go to sleep. If you don't try to kill me in my sleep, I might let Daesha treat those bruises in the morning." 


Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked


Masturbation Monday


Sinful Sunday

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

30 Days of Kink: 3&4: The Masochism Tango

Day 3: How did you discover you were kinky?
Day 4: Any early experiences that, in retrospect, hint at your kinks?

I've always been a masochist. Back when I was knee-high to a grasshopper, it manifested itself exclusively in oddly fucked up fantasies inspired by scenes in movies or strangely spanking-filled vintage cartoons. Seriously, there are a lot of old cartoons with spanking. Merry Melodies, you are some kinky bastards.

As I aged, I ran into my first bout with depression and I started exploring physical masochism in the form of minor cutting. Well, I say cutting, it was more like thin line abrasion. I would basically scratch lines in my skin with sewing needles, straight pins, or whatever small sharp things that were available and then swipe it with alcohol. I only used a knife once, the very first time. I still have a small scar from that one. I think that's the only scar that's still visible.

I'm sure that particular choice was inspired by my brother, who engaged in self-mutilation for attention when he was a teenager. He even got himself intentionally kicked out of a detention facility because they weren't equipped to deal with self-harm.

But I found it to be a way to relieve the mental shitstorm I was dealing with. I've always been a silent seether. I'm largely non-confrontational, often to a fault. It most situations, I'm flight, unless it's a physical altercation and I hit primal space, then I'm solidly fight and I will attack whatever limb I can reach.

I remember my first flogging, my first beating of any kind really. That weekend was awkward as hell. I was anxious and nauseated pretty much the entire time, but the two beatings I got were the brief moments of peace in that. The nausea faded. The headache disappeared. Everything relaxed. It was absolutely wonderful. I was instantly addicted, although it would be a good while before I was able to do that sort of thing regularly.

I know tops often lament when a bottom is stoic or doesn't make enough noise. I've always been a quiet one, but pain is relaxing to me. I want to lose myself in the sensation, give into the peace of the impact. Now, if it's a more relaxed, casual scene, I'll happily tell you to go fuck yourself if you land a good hit. I'm nice like that. But the more intense or connected scenes I have, the more I slip into the silence of just experiencing the sensations. I'm much the same way with sex, too. I've had to work on making noises, because it doesn't come naturally to me.

I don't know that I would call it subspace. I'm still fully conscious of my surroundings. But I do tend to be very focused on the sensation or lost in thought amidst it. So I find it insanely distracting and mildly irritating to get asked questions in the middle. It's why I hate counting strokes. It ruins the experience for me. I can't go anywhere if I gotta think.

I need a beating right now in the worst way. If I could get a daily dose of it, I'd be all over that shit. The pills aren't doing a great job right now. I haven't gotten a chance to flex my masochistic muscles much at all in the last several months. I can feel the tension in my neck and shoulders, the tightness in my chest. I need to go until I've cried it all out and need to slip into that exhausted coma, preferably in someone's arms.

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

30 Days of Kink: Day 2: The Big List


Day 2: List your kinks.
This list certainly isn't comprehensive, but it is extensive, I think. And in alphabetical order! You're welcome.

Kinks:

24/7
anal
belly dancing
belts
biting
blindfolds
bondage
brat play
breast spanking/whipping, nipple play
breath play
butt plugs
candle wax play
chains
clamps
collar/leash
consensual nonconcent
corporal punishment
cuddles
D/s
Dd/lg
device bondage
dildos
discipline
domestic servitude
face slapping
fingernails
flogging
gags (cloth, bit)
glass dildos/plugs
gloves (leather, work)
hair play
hair pulling
kitten play
leather toys
Master/slave
mind fucks
OTK spanking
petting
paddles (some)
power exchange
primal play
rape play
remote control devices
riding crops
Scratching
sensation play
sensory deprivation
shackles
slave bells
spanking
temperature play
TPE
vibrators
wrestling

Curious About:

e-stim
fucking machines
vampire gloves
hair bondage
hoods
water bondage
abduction play
anal hooks
extended captive role play

Sunday, October 1, 2017

Under the Sea


Under the sea
Under the sea
Darling it's better
Down where it's wetter
Take it from me!

A bit of an abstract interpretation of the theme, but I was super excited about my new mermaid Pusheen. So enjoy some mermaid hair with a cute little Mewmaid. And obviously, I'm not taking part in the competition, but I hope you enjoy it just the same. Good luck to the rest of you sexy folks!
Sinful Sunday

Saturday, September 30, 2017

Summer Smoke

Busy with a comic convention this weekend, so here's a bit of flash fiction while I finish writing the next installment of Star Talker. I got a bit Hemingway with the style of this, but I hope you enjoy it.

I stared across the yard watching the wind stir up a flurry of packing peanuts strewn across the road, the remnants of some haphazard box that had flown from an unsuspecting truck bed. It was just after daybreak, but not quite sunrise. The sky was a dreary gray, spattered with darker clouds that might converge into rain later. It was still tolerable, the sticky heat of late summer still sleeping.

I leaned back on the rough wood steps of the porch and took a drag off my stolen cigarette. The smoke burned the back of my throat and I coughed a bit. I’d never smoked before, but I’d seen it enough in movies to give it a go. If this wasn’t an “I need a cigarette” moment, I couldn’t say what one actually was. I sighed, coughing again.

The screen door creaked as it swung open behind me. I glanced back to see Jack shuffle out the door, his pajama pants dragging the ground in his bare feet. He took a seat beside me, staring out at the whirling white bits of Styrofoam, not looking at me.

“You shouldn’t smoke,” he said, tapping a fresh pack of Marlboros into is palm and plucking out one for himself.

I silently held out the lighter, which he took wordlessly.

I took another drag and looked up at him sideways. He was annoyingly beautiful in all his gruffness. Lines of sun and age marked his skin, giving it character. His eyes, still small with sleep, all but glowed in the dim morning light, a lovely shade of gray that sent me into a veritable trance when I stared too long. He reached up and scratched his goatee, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air.

He finally shot me a sidelong squint as I coughed again. “You ever smoked before?”

“No,” I said, defiantly taking another puff.

He snorted, picking at some lint on his pants. “Why now then?”

I shrugged. “Well, I’m already on the road to self-destruction, might as well set the car on fire while I’m at it.”

He pursed his lips. “If we’re at that point, we might need something a bit stronger than nicotine and arsenic.”

I blew out a puff of smoke, failing miserably in an attempt at a smoke ring. “Save your good intentions for someone else’s road to hell, yeah?”

He leaned back, the wood creaking as he did so. I snuck a glance at his bare chest, admiring the dark hair there.

“I take it you regret last night?” he said.

I stared off into the trees, eyes unfocused. “I was talking to Sheila the other day.”

“Yeah?”

“She asked me how much I fucking hate myself.”

He was quiet for a moment. The crackle of burning tobacco was oddly loud in the silence of the muggy early morning. “Do you?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t figured that out yet. I’m pretty damn broken. I know that much.”

“How so?”

I looked at him, sucking in a deep breath, fighting off the urge to touch him. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

Another puff. Another cough. “I’m not sure how I feel about anything anymore.”

He snatched the cigarette from my fingers and ground it out into the little ashtray that lived on the porch. “You’re done with that.”

I coughed again. “Let’s go inside. My ass is numb and I’m starting to sweat.”

He rose with a groan, bones cracking, and followed me through the door. Add a little gasoline and the explosion would be spectacular.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

30 Days of Kink: Day 1: My Kinky Self

I've decided to give the 30 Days of Kink a go, although, they aren't going  to be consecutive. So here's day one for you. This is my kinky self.

In the land of kinky labels, I have a fairly extensive collection. It's a daunting list to rattle off in quick introductions and I usually just stick with slave/pet/little when I'm trying to be quick about it. I'm going to try and break the list down.

Submissive

I struggled over whether to tackle first between primal and submissive, as both of those color everything else, but I guess the best choice would be submissive, as that is a vital part of every other label. I have a rather submissive personality. I can be assertive if I'm annoyed, but I'm largely passive in most interactions. I'll usually cede to others in many interactions. Sometimes it can be a bit of a detriment, trying to please others to my own disadvantage. But, this is the first label I ever identified with, and even as I've gotten more specific about how that is expressed, it's still the umbrella under which everything else falls. With the right partner, it's an instantaneous response.

Primal

I added this one to my list a few years ago when I learned about what it was on Fetlife. Because the submissive aspect informs everything else, I identify as primal play. I'm under no illusion that I'm a predator. I'm about as scary as a fluffy duckling. However, I do enjoy wrestling and rough play with a partner, biting, scratching and all sorts of primal sex. Around others, it largely manifests itself in being able to feel dominant or submissive energies from people. Some people just feel one or the other to me, regardless of whatever label they identify with. I've met d-types who don't feel dominant, and I've met s-types who do. I have to say, that being able to sense dominant energy from a man plays a large part in my attraction. The primal aspect also shows up in forming opinions of people almost instantly, much like our animal pets do. I have encountered people I instantly dislike and I don't really have a reason at first. They just "smell funny" for lack of a better phrase. Of course, this works in the opposite too. I can instantly like a person without really knowing them, just from the vibes they put off.

Kitten

This one fits somewhat under the primal classification, and I think partly with the Little aspect. This isn't something I've really done much of, besides some small things in my most recent relationship. I mostly identify as a human primal, but I don't mind a bit of kitten play. I have cats. I love cats. Cats are awesome. Also, meowing is fun.

Masochist

I am a masochist through and through. I'm not a pain slut, by any means, but I enjoy pain. Spanking is my favorite. Within any dynamic I participate in, I would expect this to be an essential feature. I'd consider myself a middling masochist. I'm not a complete lightweight, but nor am I capable of handling the types of pain several of my friends seem to enjoy. I also enjoy some forms of mind fuckery and many aspects of force play, which I would consider to be aspects of the masochistic part of me. Those would be the kinds of emotional masochism I'm into. I am not, however, into humiliation and degradation.

Little

This is a rather new label for me. I've struggled with it, as it can be rather polarizing, and a lot of my experience with littles online has been less than, um...I dunno, appealing? I don't regress. I don't have an "age." The little part of me is not a separate entity. It's just another aspect of my personality that meshes with everything else. I enjoy coloring, cartoon movies, stuffies, and collecting toys like vintage Polly Pocket sets. But the little part is just the youthful parts of my personality. The desire to be cared for. The habit for cutesiness, although I refuse to do baby talk, as it annoys the shit out of me. Honestly, this is still an aspect I'm exploring, and I'm not sure I have a concrete concept of what this is for me yet.


Brat

I say I identify as a brat, although I hesitate to do so very often around others because of the general negative view of brats in general. However, as I've mentioned in other posts, my concept of brat is different. This is a form of play for me, a way to initiate certain types of play with a specific headspace. I make sure that my partner is cool with this, and if they tell me to knock it the fuck off, I will. And it never involves deliberate disobedience.


Slave

This was the second primary label I identified with before finally settling on pet. It's one of my primary labels. I fall into the Total Power Exchange/Total Authority Transfer (TPE/TAT) side of things fairly naturally in a relationship. I don't really think in terms of choice. I assume I don't have one unless explicitly stated. I have limits, but I try to only make things limits if I find them physically, psychologically, or spiritually damaging. If I have or use a safe word, it's more just a way of communicating a problem exists rather than indicating a full stop. When I first came into the scene, I was very much against being a slave. I was certain it wasn't something I wanted to be, but that was before I knew much about any of the labels available. The epiphany moment came when a friend said "You might as well just go ahead and call yourself a slave. You do everything he says anyway." And that's been part of my labeling since. I'm not high protocol at all. In fact, the primal side of me hates protocol, but obedience, service, force? Yeah, totally my thing.

Pet

This is my primary label and has been for about five years now. The definition I came up with five years ago, to paraphrase, was a type of slave, but with lots of physical affection and affection in general, including petting and cuddling, cute mannerisms, etc. I want to serve, but I also want to serve as a companion and an object of affection and care. I think pet still fits now, even with the addition of new labels. I feel that it's likely even more accurate now, as I think it conveys, at least to me, the ideas of slave, primal, and little all wrapped up in one neat little package. I have the concept of TPE, but also the ideas of primal and little in there as well. Although, I find I have to make sure and state that by pet, I don't mean that I want to walk around on all fours and eat exclusively from a cat bowl. I'm not that kind of pet, despite the kitten thing I mention above. I might do kitten play, but I don't identify as a kitten specifically. The other labels overshadow that entirely.