Poly chat

Cherry is ready to talk about poly. I'm scared. Scared to be judged on all the non-conventions of the things I find desirable. We might be talking about this in a couple days over lunch. Eek!

My sister is reminding me to be myself and to be honest. If I'm excited and communicative in my answers the understanding will come through in time, and perhaps a much more real and deep emotional bond will strike up in relation to this topic. Cherry wants to know more about my views on poly, "other than that it's awesome;" thus all the potential answering on my part.

The freak out portion of this is that see-saw of "I don't want to break up" vs. "I need to do what's right for me."
And even if this is not an issue in our next conversation, that is the seed that might be birthed from it. Will anyone plant it, and where? That is the uncertain debate; and the emotional roller coaster.

Breathe, breathe, breathe... and drink some honey chamomile tea with potentially Yiddish writing on the tea box (wtf? how did that get into our cupboard?)

Breathe. Sleep. Must.
In other news, I made a hand out of candle wax. It was certainly enlightening and infinitely fun to play with hot wax from a candle dripping on my hand! I dripped lots onto the sink surface as well, to protect it from getting stained by the hair dye that was waiting to be rinsed out of my head at the time; worked like a charm. Double whammy!

Peace. Meaow.

Power/Sex

Power and sex. So many discussions and triggers there. Being certain kinds of feminist probably doesn't help.

I don't know what to do with you. Now, when you are trying to be in control, often I just have to laugh. You are too eager. Just let it flow; let it feel. I don't like being put in the spot of a lamb; I do not enjoy playing the lamb. Ever. Makes me zone out.

So respect me in such a way as to ask me before doing something within my physical and emotional bubble. Let's try that for a bit. No surprises, please. Even the good ones place me in that "young woman being courted" (and trapped; and objectified; and eventually slaughtered; like a lamb) space, and it is not pleasant.

I have triggers; I don't know what they are yet. I won't know, ever, what all of them are. But I can try to follow.

I can't enjoy myself within an interaction with you if I can't trust you. So could we work on rebuilding that trust, please? From the beginning, almost, maybe? It's OK to not know everything. Things you "know" about me and I "know" about you change all the time, anyway.

I feel like me writing this is almost an attack. It is turbid and turbulent. I don't like it. But I'm in upheaval, and I'm trying to figure it out. How much should I actually share with her, and in which ways?

I haven't a clue but I will need to address it tomorrow, somehow.

Could we try, maybe... *gasp*... having a completely egalitarian interaction? No "control taking" by either party, when it comes to physical interactions, at least? There can be "control giving" (the person who wants to give up control for some particular thing at some particular point brings it up.) Yes! Let's try that.

Hmmm.

Sister

My sister and I are friends again. :)

I may or may not detail this later.

XD <33

Knives and kink

Why are people so afraid of knives?

Is it the lethal aspect? 'Cause trust me, honey, I could just as easily kick at your spleen, attack your temple, or poison your mind. For life.

*muahahahaha!!!*

But seriously. Rinnie won't come within two meters of me when I have a knife in my hand. Cherry kind of flinches and backs away/out of range. It's just a throwing knife, for god's sakes! Or just a paring knife! Or just a gorgeous foot-long saber, mmmm.... That last one is more, like, in my dreams; or at an old friend's house.

Rinnie's reasoning is that she knows me and that I am... 'sporadic' - by which, in her own sort of vocabulary, I think she means that I am unpredictable. Cherry... I'm actually not sure. I took a dull blade of a black ninja throwing knife to her throat today. There was flailing involved, as well as the communication that the pointed end is sharp and pointy (which it is.) I followed the whole thing with a kiss, but it wasn't erotic, at least surely not intensely so or further than the slight eroticism of any teasing boundry-pushing thing (that after-rush of 'woah.')

It takes trust, control, and consensual power exchange. Trust builds with time, and intergrates into the display of interest in a power exchange. Cherry reacts rather intensely and enjoyably to my hand on her throat, or my hand gathering her hair at the back of her neck; she seems to check herself, though, after these reactions and pulls back - consciously or unconsciously. She's getting more used to the back of the head thing, but I have only taken her neck a couple of times, so that one she still definitely withdraws from a little. She also admits to like being on top, and I tease her about it but, in a way, the question is always there: will she flip, switch, desire other experiences as well? More submissive ones, or those of a bottom? I'm trying to ensure there's a variety of power plays going on so that she gets a perspective of these different interactions. There is no plan, per se, but it would be pretty rockin' if sex+Cherry=d/s variety. (Re-reading this, I notice the inherent assumption of sex here, though I am, in fact, meaning sexual interactions of any and all sorts.)

The point of that story was that her ability to trust in me is just developing, and with that is the ease and comfort with which she displays her d/s characteristics (whatever they may be(come)!)

Control. Big part #1: placing your trust in another person, from both parties' ends.
Bottom/submissive's end: you trust your partner and are handing over the control of the situation and the stimuli over to them. You have communicated the boundaries you do know, the things you might want to find out about, and are able and eager to voice/communicate clearly the things you are not okay with: before, during, and after. You understand the risks associated with the chosen activities; these have been discussed. You have discussed your physical and psychological needs in case of emergencies/crises. You know that you will be taken care of, if all is well; you know that you will be supported and helped to take care of yourself in a negative situation.
Top/dominant's end: you trust your partner to be able in, and engage in self-relfection, to be honest about their self-knowledge; you trust yourself and are ready (and happy) to accept the control and responsibility they are giving you over the situation. You have established mutually agreed upon communication devices with the bottom/sub. You have a good grasp of what you will do in emergency/crisis situations. You are comfortable with using the safeword yourself, and have tools in your mind for helping the sub if they use their safeword. ...is there something missing here from the top's end?

I don't have all the answers, because other lovers have appreciated knives intensely in the past. I don't know if it's almost a pre-exhisting knowledge of the fetish for knives that drives them to excitement; perhaps the sense of risk of letting someone else handle a weapon at their skin; perhaps the interaction style (i.e. it had been a long-term relationship; or we were friends and having fun with each other with less risk of intense emotional fuck-ups.)

The thrill of danger cannot exist in a situation that is, from the beginning, not 100% safe-feeling. A woman that is in an abusive relationship and fantacizes about getting physically attacked as part of a sexual experience won't know whether this is a 'fucked up' thing totally part of the abuse cycle or a fetish she really has (and maybe, down the road, might embrace in healthy ways) until she has left the abusive situation and truly worked through a large part of her past.

The integration of control into sexual contexts in ways that are non-intrusive but demonstrate that "I've got it together" is, perhaps, my quandry. It's the last one in the triangle, and it needs to be integrated into the current. Perhaps time will tell, but I cannot rely on intuition alone. This is the puzzle I leave my mind with tonight, to play with while I sleep and breathe and wake and live and function for the next week or two.

The answer will be there by Halloween night. Muahahahaha. XD

Cherry, Insomnia, Sadness

Wish I could forget the pathways. Forget your blog names, forget the invisible fake connections of technology. Wish we weren't so wise as to take this slow, to not over-do; instead we just feel it out exactly as it is - as best as it's possible to do so, with one's head in the clouds.
I'm in the 'like,' zone, I think. Not the love zone, nor the falling in love zone; perhaps I am too cautious - though from our conversations, it seems that we are both. I do not know whether I will ever love you, nor do I know whether I hope I will.

Leonard Cohen is a lonely old man. Like me. Just like me.

Poly rant

Polyamoury. Isn't there *anyone* out there who doesn't compromise their poly nature for a relationship with that one-really-great-amazing-monogamous-person???? Because to me, it's not a choice; FOR me, at least, it is not a choice. I am non-monogamous.

Monogamy and I don't get along. I get bored being monogamous. I get bored with JUST ONE PARTNER even while being technically poly. *insert any disclaimer you want here to not get you, dear reader, mad at this and for you to continue reading with a mind open as, or perhaps more than, at the beginning* And no, I don't want to work on it. I don't want to go to ex-poly camp, thanks.

I was trying to explain the personal tragedy that is the poly people in my life accepting monogamous lifestyles. It happens, over time; it happens. Perhaps overtime it will un-happen, but that is of no comfort right now.

I wish there was someone I admire that was poly and lovin' it. GAH!

Perhaps this will sound super polytical (ha.ha.) but every time a poly-identifying person abandons their label, lifestyle, idenitity etc. for monogamy, it's like we've lost the battle over again. There go ten or more monogamous people wagging their fingers and saying "toldya so," or regaining 'hope' that their partner will eventually become monogamous, or losing understanding of the seriousness of polyamoury - we just haven't grown up yet, we have abandonment issues that *insert the traitor's name here* has finally worked through, good for them! But not for us. Us poly people, we are scum.

Great.

Gloves

I learned the value of gloves today. I spilled concentrated sulphuric acid on my hand, and my skin didn't get eaten away to the bone... 'cause my hand was wearing gloves. Thank you, Chemistry, for this valuable lesson in safety.

<3

Cherry kissed my hand today, as I often kiss hers. I believe it was the second time, maybe, that she'd done it, compared to my many. It took me by surprise, as it is not her habit. The look she gave me in the backseat of the car after doing this was genuine and gentle; a quiet appreciation. My body is reacting to me simply remembering this look - and that's something.

spoken word - inspired rant

As I throw away a sock with a hole in it, I realize the privelege I have to not patch it up, walk and feel the ridges of the patch, learn to patch it together better when the next hole shows through so as not to walk with blisters in circles and ovals on my soles, toes, heels.


And I realize it in English, in this hated fucking langauge that revolts me to this day to say the name of it. But it is your langauge, is it not? It is the language my lovers share with me. The language I say "she exists"in, even though my communist slut is crying out in shame for concealing that I have known not having any of these fucking priveleges, except for still being white with educated parents and a roof over my head, if not a home. And I cry out, my innards know. They hear the song that in Russian mirrors the rhythm and feeling of "she exists." But what's it to you, English - speaking populus? A collection of sounds, to guitar, w/ no meaning unless you listen closely and then you hear... nothing. Music may be universal, but how many have lifted the deafness of the iron curtain? How many of you didn't scoff when I dared utter the word communist? And would you recognize the irony and the pride and the pain behind that word? From a victor's perspective you celebrate Columbus Day every year and give Thanks to the losers for losing, to the Earth for being so bountiful in her forgiveness that you don't even notice, in this land of immigrants, that we are all playing a game. Playing along to your _____ of conquerors.

So no, I guess you wouldn't hear communism like I hear it, or slut like I wish I heard it, or cunt like a powerful word.

Well enough negativity, don't you think? Let's all say thanks and smile and tourn our backs on the wind.

Cherry - my journal entry, 1

Unedited, as in my journal.

Cherry and I met up today. Picnick with dinner and fire (I made a fire, all by myself!) Bagels w/ tomato, avocado, and mozzarella. Walk down the railroad to a heartstopping view of the river, outlined in autumn colours. There was some wind and rain in these post-fire adventures. She got her mom to pick us up, and we got driven to her house. We hung out w/ the fam for a bit in the kitchen, loving some strawberry rhubarb pie in the process. Went upstair and after a brieft tour, settled down in her room. About 2-3 hrs of making out proceeded to happen, w/ intermittent converstaion. She's a medium-to-good kiser; possibly due to being a bassoonist, or possibly due to being young and eager, she presses herself in just a little too much, w/ just a little bit of a strange mouth shape when it's open. I'm not sure whether there just needs to be some practice going on here, or whether I will get into it (the kissing style she presents) or will need to bring it up eventually. It felt very high school, butg also very fresh and good. There was a lot of giggling, which I'm still not sure whether she got fed up with it at any point. Oh well! A together experience should incorporate every person's experience, otherwise it is each person alone, perhaps. She's unsure on the boobs-fondling thing, which I randomly had the intuition to ask about. So I said sounds like a no and proceeded to not incorporate the boobs into our play. :) She's a bit of a top! I'm cool w/ that, though would love to introduce her to more dynamics (I've started already! - teasing her a tad about the control thing, adn taking short spans of time to top her) and certainly would need to balance my being topped by her w/ lots of topping activities at home (rope practice, etc.)

Anyways... my hands were wanter-y with her ass, but she didn't say anything, and I did ask her at some point about it, annnd got a "I don't particularly mind." Which sounds horrid on paper, but at the time I heard it as a "yes, that's cool." So I will go w/ that for now. Perhaps check in w/ her, though I don't want to be preachery about it either; or perhaps I am afraid she will put other restrictions to our physicalities - but that's fair of her to do; and since I feel icky/unsure about it, I will most certainly ask.

P.S. Our safeword is horseradish! Ho ho ho! Horse.

I like the idea of having a communcal safeword, because then no one needs to be thinking about whether they are on top or on the bottom, or wehtehr it is appropriate for them to call the safeword in their situation. So yay. We didn't discuss explicitly what happens after, we just said "say it if you don't like what's going on." I feel like we both have the common sense to figure it out on the spot, though.

I want to give her the s.e.x. book by Heather Corinna, but at the same time, she does already have Opening Up (she chose it because the cover looked more promising/hopeful/soothing.) I don't want to overwhelm her w/ information, and it does seem to me like figuring out whether you can handle non-monogamy (ethical) is a pretty important step. So... I will do the 'sex-stuff' reserach, for now.

Making out is kind of like an addiction, a mellow on, in a way. So you keep coming back for more; it is the chosen activity for the night. There are magical moments, and simple moments.

I'm afraid to let her talk, to ask meaningful questions. I'm afraid to get to know her and her world; get abosrbed and intertwined in it, and then get to the point of collapse, or of pathetic tries to fix it, the broken yellow sun-umbrella-table-thing. We will see, we will see. And then what? yanno?

*dun dun dun dun*

So, slowly; get to know her slowly, through other activities and wittnesing the decisions she makes. '
'She' is an exciting pronoun.
Cherry has only gone to 2nd  base (once) w/ her ex.

I will expand on one or both of these thigns later, as I am currently exhausted. Poof!

Favourite quotes from Jens Peter Jacobsen

Translation by Anna Grabow. Quotes from Morgen and other stories. Rilke lead me to this.

 "Had I, oh had I a grandson, trala,


And a chest with heaps and heaps of gold,

Then very likely had I had a daughter, trala,

And house and home and meadows untold.



Had I, oh had I a daughter dear, trala,

And house and home and meadows untold,

Then very like had I had a sweetheart, trala.

And a chest with heaps and heaps of gold."

"The councilor was interrupted among his asters, but the


district-judge's son was too irreproachable a blending of nature and

civilization for the councilor to raise objections."

 

"Then he ran again for a long time with a

low moaning. Scattered flashes of memory of happy days came to him,

and when they had passed the darkness was twice as black."

annnd... I ran out of reading steam when he turned out to be a hypothetical psycho (or just a really judged man w/ lots of enemies.) But I shall finish! Eventually.

P.S. I have a journal entry from today that I will probably type in here tomorrow

I can't give you everything. But the things I can give you, I will, wholeheartedly, without hesitation once it is the moment that tells me 'yes.' I will not hold back. I will listen. You are part of my world now; my hopeful world.

Life + Girl

Where do I go and how do I share that this is so wonderful? Rooftops, rooftops, rooftops.

There's this girl (refreshing, I know, after all the boys.) She's rad, and I don't even know what or how it is, but we laugh a lot and there is something; I had been questioning this 'something' all week, until finally today I was walking, and taking a deep breath w/ my eyes closed in the sun. My thoughts often come in the form of imagined facebook statuses: ... ponders that she exists. It kept repeating itself in my head, and as I breathed deeply I realized that this is the thread I had been trying to see all week and, finally, in the sunlight, it had caught fire. She exists.

She exists, somewhere in the world, out there, and I don't need to see her right now - no, that is not the pull I am feeling. It is just a reminder, a knowing; I will see her and it will be wonderful, but right here, in this moment, it is this realization that is asking to be fulfilled: she exists.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

An amazing, controversial, kinky number I've been practicing for rather intensely has been cancelled by one of the performers.

I will write more on this later. For now, I am just attempting to let out the frustration. AH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Perhaps throwing knives will help.

Girls

You spin me, baby... :)

I am resisting the urge to facebook stalk excessively. Yay. :)


Meaow!!!

Dimitri

I love Dimitri. Again. :)

Dimitri

A new site is up, of a dear friend of mine. Subscribe! It shall be full of life and fulfillment. :) <3

Mumiy Troll

I am currently obsessed with this band. I went to their show recently and was blown away. Other cool links for them: the lead singer's blog,  and the networking site that the band started up, where they have their own blogpost as well (under the user MumiyTroll, obviously.)

A few of their most queer/raunchy/awesome videos:










The one I can listen to over and over though, as it's turned out, is":




Along with tons of their album songs that aren't easily available on YouTube> <3

FetLife

I've decided that it's alright that my blog address is so obvious. I've decided it's okay to not include my blog on fetlife, aside from posting occasional things as notes (depending on time and will, of course.) What if I want to rant or rave about someone ON that site? Certainly I wouldn't want them reading it, regardless of whether they know my real name or have seen nowhere about my jawline in the photo collection. Thus, I am calm and glad.

Sky was bored, so I wrote her a snip bit out of an imaginary erotica. It is pasted below, so as to not have it disappear into infinity. I don't know whether I was imagining myself as the top or bottom. Well, that's a lie. I tried to be in both perspectives, interchangeably. I just don't know which ones were the ones that got me all tingly and dizzy and disoriented. Might be the time (late!) and the sugar rushes (multiple of these is worse, unlike orgasms). Might be the shiny, spiky boots I was imagining; and the smell of leather. Or the slap, and the harsh words. Perhaps the femme connotations of a black skirt, requiring some effort to get down over the hips and thighs. ...


*
She whispers slowly: "drop your skirt."
The female softness of the voice confuses you, but she moves and the smell of leather surrounds you. Specific, strong, promising. You inch the already unzipped skirt down your thighs, and receive a harsh slap.

"Too slow," comes a cold threat. You jump out of the skirt on this command, eyes welling with disgust. Embarrassed and scared by the swelling of your cunt, you look up only to hear her delighted, proud chuckle.

*
I feel like I missed something here, between the disgust and the embarrassment. But I'm too much of a lady (at least in type) to feel her up without first telling her I will; and got way too distracted by my family at that point to continue an effective dialogue, spoken or silent.

I'm off to not sleeping, then sleeping. Cheers.

Travel

How I got to wanting to go to Dark Odyssey is a few stone hops away across the river.

There once was an anarchist bookfair. At the book fair, there once was a men's workshop on violence, in which supporting only woman+positive and/or woman-made porn was mentioned as a strong ally point. There once was a Human looking for porn, then looking for feminist porn, then coming across this blog. How rad would it be to organize feminist porn awards in my city, anyways? Rad. So, once upon a pretty ole' time, I followed the links to some of the 'big names' in feminist porn. Once upon a time Tristan Taormino's page popped up, wherein there are three locations of Tristan's workshops this fall... one of which was Dark Odyssey. Holy. Fuck. Yes

.
Too bad it's right when school starts. But it is on the to-do list in the next few years. Oh my goodness, yes!

That is all for now, other than that I need to come up with a name I can use for myself in the kink/sex community. Because, boy, do I ever want my name to be out there! But is it not going to be a profound experience, if my name is something other than what I have been called at birth? I do want to keep these worlds separate, I don't want someone going  "oh... which ___. the ____ one? oh..." when circles intersect. Hmmm.

More Masturbating - More Hoods

Well!

Any wrist cuffs that quadruple up as ankle cuffs, a partial face hood, and (potentially) a kinky corset/bra are well. worth. the bucks. Just sayin'.

Tonight was the first night that I made much sound masturbating alone. When I'm doing it in front of someone, I'll play up or let the sounds escape more. Alone, I'm usually not in a soundproof safe haven... plus, I am content with staying silent, save the occasionally loud breath or once-per-session moan. Tonight was different. Tonight, I put myself in a promptly-constructed hood. My thick leather cuffs are fluffy on one side, and leather on the other. They have D-rings and straps and buckles, but also two complementary leather straps w/ buckles and holes that are long and thin. They allow for greater distances between the two cuffs, while still having them bound to each other. This great construction also allows for lots of fun improvisation. One of the big leather cuffs, today, was folded over my mouth, buckled to the other cuff which wrapped around the back of my head and over to the other side, creating a leather belt pressing over my mouth and up at my nose. One of the long thin straps was doubled over and connected to the front and back of this belt, holding it up (one D-ring near my mouth, the other near the back of my head), running over the top of my head and over my nose. It was kind of like an upside-down "T" from both the front and the back. And boy, did I have fun with it. The smell of leather warming up at my breath, combining with my sweat and arousal was enough to send my kegels pulsing, already. My hands became more confident and insistent, without a doubt doing whatever they wanted to my body. I love that rush of control, whether it is over myself or someone else. That rush of determination; of cruel, beautiful, arousing DOING. It is a fetish of mine, I think: the pressure on my skin, especially my face; the obstruction of normal breathing. After I'd come and kept going, I moved my hand to hold my neck; my body contracted again. Unfolding the leather strap over my mouth revealed the furry underside that was previously folded onto itself. It sat there, over my mouth. I breathed through my mouth, holding it pretty open, feeling the texture on my lips; and the way the air ran differently through the soft faux-fur before escaping at the edges of the cuff. It's like I'm pressed face down against a carpet, my body being aroused and done things to...

The sounds were whimpers, coming out periodically and colliding with the leather and fur. It was the safety of that soundproofing pressure, and the leathered, controlling insistence of the pressure itself that birthed the whimper-moans. I love each one that escaped from me tonight. I love rendering myself helpless, safe, sleepy, and smiley... the smiley part comes from the realization that I love inducing the former three.

Well... what else? I felt some urgency in writing this post before I had forgotten the pressing points that came up as I was crashing post-orgasm, but either I have already covered them, or have forgotten them.

Heartbreak Hotel

Well. Today is my day to rant. I wish I had someone to talk to, but my ex was my best friend for the last year and a half. We were just getting to the point where we were okay opening up about negative emotions, not just positive ones; especially ones that would impact our relationship. And then I bailed and he didn't fight for me.

That's not even the point. Our entire relationship was a disaster. I opened up to him, somehow - the submissive side of me. I was okay going either way, but near the beginning of our relationship somehow it became that he was topping and I was bottoming and it was working out well. Our trust developed quickly, probably jumping over many short-cuts that later became our foils. Soon I was experiencing positive submissive feelings in the bedroom... then within some aspects of our relationship outside of sex (though these were more often wishful thinking than actual events.) And now, well... I do not want to love again, but I know I will. What I am unsure of, is my submissive side: will it ever trust? How and why? It got royally screwed over this first and last time. Parallel to my and Alex's relationship becoming strained, he also became more and more bottom-y while I researched and embodied topping. By the end we had almost completely flipped roles.



What boggles my mind is that I still love him. I enjoy spending time with him. He is a drug, for me. I wish I was with him now, him cuddled up and sleeping beside me.

What also boggles my mind is how fucked up my brain is about emotions. It seems that most people seem to be happy when they are in love. I just get screwed up. I lose things more often - and more important ones. My brain goes slightly haywire. If I go for something related to the person I'm obsessed with at the time (even if it's something small) and do not get it, I become sad... like tears sad. Like crying-and-staying-up-at-night sad.

It hurts it hurts it hurts so much.

Sleep Texting

It veered on to oncoming traffic, crashed, and burned in a fiery fiery death. It was tragic. I contemplated shedding an artificial tear.

Such was the text I received from Joan regarding a question I asked of her. Something about it captivates me. The imagery... it truly feels like a snip bit of literary beauty, of her soul.

It was a full moon almost 21 hours ago. The effects of it continue. I am craving blood and have no access to any fresh blood. I've tried period blood of my own before, and it did not appeal to me... but seeing as I was checking if my pj's were going to be okay while I sit here and type up my blog, and there was already some on my finger... I gave it a second chance. Yum, yum, yum! Something coursed through me as the smell and taste infiltrated me. I suspect it was the taste and smell of my cunt juices more so than the blood itself, actually. I am still rather unimpressed by that part. But seeing as they are coming together today, I might as well take both. *smells hand again* It truly sends me somewhere else. My body starts moving in random places, expressing a craving that is difficult to control. My mind goes blank. I feel like a detoxing drug addict immediately after it's all gone and I've lapped up every last drop. What an interesting thing to explore.

I should be sleeping (12 hour shift tomorrow), but evidently there are things I need to get out. I was going to write about... Perry, as well as my dog's new trainer (let's call him Gregory.)

Well, Perry... is odd. She sent me a lovely package of gifts (loose leaf tea, a packet of fake drinkable blood, some delicious vegan chocolate sweets, hand cream and a cipher to puzzle over.) The cipher, to my disappointment, was not of her imagination but from a newspaper. I have yet to try the blood, as I am so amused by it, but all of the other gifts were muchly appreciated (even the cipher, as it did entertain me for a good hour or so.) In another package, she sent me my bike lock bracket (yay! now for me to find the actual lock, lol...) and a notebook with her letter to me. The idea is that we will send the notebook back and forth but, to be honest, I cannot afford that. And the notebook is ugly. So yeah. Anyways, I shall compile a package for her when the inspiration hits me. There's a particular type of tea she wants from a tea house here, and I might send her some Kegel exercise balls for her to develop her muscles on, depending on how expensive they are here. I don't know what else to send her, but perhaps I will find something. Er... and I will write her a letter. Wherein I may deliberate about how communicating over text long-distance constantly, without knowing when I will see her next isn't really my thing. She came out to visit me a month or so ago for a few days, and, well... I much more enjoy seeing her *often* but in a more lighthearted manner, than all the time. I talked to Alex about this when I went to visit him, and he reminded me that back when we were crashing at her place, I found her wayyyy too intense to live with - and only really started to enjoy her once we moved out and I only saw her in short bursts of time. So yes... that is something I may attempt to explain to her. Visiting each other for the soul purpose of *seeing each other* is just too much. Ayyyyyyyyyyyyy vey. The frustrating part is that when I tried to explain the whole not-so-much-with-the-texting thing over text, she just made fun of the whole deal. Said it was better than nothing. Talked about her awesome voice and her other great attributes. I'm all for self-confidence and such, but this felt a little over the top; almost desperate. It annoyed me to a great extent, and I ended up simply deleting the message thread from my phone. Done, done, and gone. Gah.

Now, Gregory. He came this Monday to do the initial consult with my dog and I. Let's give my dog a name... Ginger. Ginger is a 8 1/2 month old black lab cross. He is gorgeous, ridiculously smart, and totally not under control (especially since I moved back to the parental abode, and everyone just kinda... interacts with him whichever way they please.) I also haven't gotten him neutered yet, so I'm sure that's another factor in his behaviour. Anyways, he will be fine. He's a smart dog and wants to please... he's just a puppy and a trickster. On to Gregory. He rang the doorbell and I answered the door. When he saw me his eyebrows jumped as he walked in, mouthed my name in a questioning tone and shook my hand, introducing himself. My sister was upstairs and said that she, herself, heard the surprise in his voice as well. I was intrigued and surprised, myself. He is young-looking for his age (whatever that age is). Cute. "Adorable but old," my sister said. By "old," I would guess... 31? 34? 29? ...ish? She's a teenager... so apparently that is old to her, lol. It was a fun interaction. He spent an hour and 15 minutes with Ginger and I (well, actually, less with me as he took Ginger out for a run to "get rid of some of the excess energy" without me.) The three of us went for a walk and he told me a bit more about dogs, their body language, and how I should be correcting Ginger. He demonstrated for the first part, then let me take over with Ginger. He continued instructing me at a distance, noting a particularly good correction, etc. We both smiled lots, and I tended to chuckle and laugh. I... it's not a crush. In fact, one little stance of his that I saw just once may very well point to him being gay. That's not even the point. It was just a fun outing, and it was like we spoke the same language. I knew he was teaching me so I could train Ginger. I knew he was showing Ginger who's the boss, and in a way showing me how to be that - and the fact that he is my trainer, too. There were moments when Ginger was being the perfect dog while I was relaxed and looking straight ahead at the road - and it felt amazing. I've had these moments since, while walking Ginger again.

I continued grinning well after Gregory left.


Sleep well, friends.

Submissive Haven

I stumbled upon this link (click on the title of this blog post to go there), but have yet to check it out to see how active it is. I am intrigued, however, and amazed. I have subbed before, and I have been hurt through it - so I should fit right in if that's what I need to qualm about. If anyone else has any input in regards to this link, please comment below!

Thanks:)

Deliberations on a Non-Empty Stomach

Well hello, there!

• Today is my day off. 

• It's snowing where I live. 

• I went for a walk with my dog, which turned out to be 50 minutes instead of half an hour - yay! 

• Energy-feeling is awesome: when Genie and I felt each other's right from the start, I knew this was going to be interesting. Well! Our period started on the same day this month (today *grins*). And, well... there are things about her of a nature that I really enjoy. I hesitate to call it servicy, subby, or slave-y. I'm not sure where this one fits. I've already called her on how she enjoys service... when she was satisfied with my explanation of what I meant by this, she replied "only to people I like and respect." I found this a most awesome addition!

Now... onto the part that I don't know quite how to call... Genie told me that she was lacking motivation for starting to work out again. My sister suggested a few things but, alas, none of them were sufficient for Genie. She said that usually someone needs to withhold something important to her, or offer her a reward  - "but no one will do that for me here." It was a ridiculously cute explanation of this part of her nature. It complemented so well with my own. *smiles* It's interesting because I often do not know *how* exactly I would envision having a D/s relationship with someone... the specifics are unclear to me, but the general sensations of the spheres within which I would enjoy being dominant are easier to... suspect, let's say. Genie does these 's' things so naturally, and some of them really strike a chord with my own enjoyment.

My demands for this motivation 'thing' were clear to me instantly, but I was unsure whether they were reasonable considering I couldn't check that she was complying, us not living in the same household or even in the same city. So I double checked with her, then, that she would never lie to me, right?

- right, why do you ask?

- Because. 

Then I took some time to compile the message, and make sure that it was clear and concise to my satisfaction:

- From now on a workout from you earns you 48 hours of texting/non-in-person communication with me. Right after you work out, you will text me each time to let me know that you have, and in return I will communicate with you for the next two days. If I don't get such a text, I will not be doing any not-in-person communication. Right now I am defining a work out as lasting at least 15 minutes. It has to work out your heart for sure (heart rate up continuously for 15 minutes!), while  muscle exercises are optional.

My sister said "well, now she has to agree to this, right?" Which was interesting... "No, I've set my conditions. It's not a 'deal.' It's just the way it's going to be." She didn't understand, but I was beaming inside from this very fact: Genie had asked for it, and she was now in training.

A half an hour or so later, I heard back:

- you're good at this. lol 

(Yay for ego boosters!)
Then a bit later, again:

- I like this. deal.

(It's not a 'deal.' I'd already made everything perfectly clear, and thus remained silent.)
And then a couple hours later:

- poke-

This livened my face into a multitude of expressions (cute ones, I assure you), and I knew she was testing my word and my patience. This was close to my bedtime, and it was ridiculously difficult to go to sleep without having said our usual good night's over text. Aaaaaahhhh! My own patience was being tested - of my own volition. Perfect! I pulled through the night, though, eventually having to get some "sleep well" tea in me to calm my mind (it's been a pretty hyper mind for the last week or so!) The next day at 12:09 pm I got a text:

- painful. but done

Yay! What immense satisfaction from this confirmation. I asked what she'd done for the workout and how long for, and offered her some praise. She thanked me for it, as well as for 'doing this.' I welcomed her heartily, smiling to myself in regards to how much pleasure it gave me. Part of me is curious to see how this will progress, but that's the people-watching part. Mostly I am just enjoying the moment and glow of having such an obedient Genie. :)

As for our periods, it'll be interesting to see how our bodies align with the moon cycle and each other. 

Woohoo!

Tantalize

"The Word of the Day for April 06, 2010 is:

tantalize • \TAN-tuh-lyze\ • verb

: to tease or torment by or as if by presenting something desirable to the view but continually keeping it out of reach

Example Sentence:

The older brother mercilessly tantalized the younger one, repeatedly holding out the ball to him only to snatch it back at the last second.

Did you know?

Pity poor King Tantalus of Phrygia. The mythic monarch offended the ancient Greek gods. As punishment, he was plunged up to his chin in water in Hades, where he had to stand beneath overhanging boughs of a tree heavily laden with ripe, juicy fruit. But though he was always hungry and thirsty, Tantalus could neither drink the water nor eat the fruit. Anytime he reached for them, they would retreat from him. Our word "tantalize" is taken from the name of the eternally tormented king."

Taken on April 6th, 2010 from http://www.merriam-webster.com. 


P.S. Photo suggestion?

Vampirism and other RISKY activities

I've decided to... allow for, and acknowledge, my vampirism in a sense greater than simply voyeuristic. It is dark, but hot. My kinks seem to be within and beyond edgeplay, which both thrills and terrifies me. It's intoxicating: to think of biting someone, fangs piercing their resilient skin, and drinking their blood. I don't want to just dream about it anymore.

I will be writing this blog and researching the activity of drinking blood at the same time. So that is what this post will contain. My research, my responses, others' opinions on the matter. Some relevant side-notes of other activities that are mentioned as at the same risk level. The content with change with time as I add more things/edit. *nods definitively*

Interesting hearsay:
* eating garlic with make your blood taste better
* stopping smoking for at least two days will make your blood taste better
* many players know shit-all about hepatitis (a/b/c) transmission

I wish...
* I had sharp enough fangs to draw blood by biting
* Omnomnom blood

Oh my Goddess.

This shot is from a user's Fetlife account. The caption is "more from the ritual." This photograph is incredibly gorgeous, and it literally fills me with trepidation. It makes my breathing jump faster, makes me body experience some sort of prolonged rush all over. The drops of blood in the glass, the ritualistic setting and matching of colours... it's very intense for me. *breathes*

Looks like for the minimal amount of scarring and maximum amount of blood, phlebotomy is really the best way to go: needles (no scarring), tubes(method of transmission), feeding from a vein (maximum blood amount in shortest amount of time). Medical equipment. A course in phlebotomy, with lots of practice. *ponders* There is a Medical Assistant course at a technical institute where I live, but it's near four grand for 19 weeks (including internship)... so it would be a serious investment and consideration. Of course, the course involved many other things, not just Phlebotomy... so if I could find a course in just that... hm... someone online suggested that at least 100 'pokes' with a needle should be done successfully before one is qualified at all, really. So that is an interesting standard to try and search with. But then, if I will be paying for a course like that... I would prefer that it come with some certification, so it can pay back in terms of job at some point in my life (yay society and its concept of credibility... but that's a sticky ethical debate, there!).

Alright. I have officially been distracted by sleep deprivation, sugar+tea, and a conversation with the woman that I wrote the last post about. This conversation involved talking about her sister hinting at her keeping friends as friends and such, and that a part of her agrees with her sister, and another part is "just saying yeah whatever." You can see how this is a distracting topic (antagonistic factors in this tale we weave: her religion; her family's super-traditional values; our internalized homophobia; my parents' non-acceptance; perhaps there are more...) Blood over love, in her case. Blood over love has, really, been my case as well. I was immediately enlightened with the idea of backing off, which I stated. She asked for an explanation, provided below: "On a selfish level, the choices you make may impact me; so it is definitely wise to consider (not necessarily "worry" about lol) what this may mean. On an honourable level, being the cause of torment of a creature I care about is a sticky ethical issue, perhaps best prevented kindly when possible. Makes sense?"


Further explanation for those who can't decipher my 3-am babble (myself included): "Basically, I can back off. So the choice to be friends is more in your hands, in a way. And if you choose to pursue the friendship, then again I will try to not do anything to specifically encourage you to engage beyond a friendship level. However, if your soul chooses to fall in love, and you choose to act on it... That's as far as I know what my own choices would be."

So now we are in a preamble meeting of sorts, with each other, on how to best continue. And she doesn't know. But she's definitely not sorry that she met me. So now I just want a hug. A good bear hug from her, or  a super long hug from, like... yeah I don't know who else. I wonder whether to transcribe the entire text message conversation on here but, in the end, it will all come down to seeing her again. Touching her hair, her skin, her body with my eyes.

The end.

Post Scriptum: I want a vampire bite piercing. XD

Twitterpated

I am going to run far, far away from this place.

Where being twitterpated is allowed. Condoned. AWESOME. *is twitterpated*

I am. Sam I am, twitterpated. With this girl, Oh My Goodness, whith this girl. Person. MEAOW.

And we're being cute over msn. EEeeeeek!

And I played w/ the back of her neck w/ a throwing knife in the car. And she said thank you over text message, later, for the scratches on her neck from it. Just like that. Thank you, btw... *melts* That's hot. She agrees. It's hot.

And thinking about it all, the way she enjoys serving, the way she threw my waterbottle off the bleachers outside after asking if I'd already drank from it and then appologized...

We ran across the field, raced, to the opposite goal post. I won, by speed and advantage of knowing where I was going. Sat on the sunnier slope. She started poking me with this big stick, and as I looked over I felt that energy emanate between us. It was splendid, and then I saw her sister coming across the field towards us and I broke the moment, for now. I wanted the energy fairly level between the three of us.

And then there were vegan cupcakes. YUM. They dropped me off at work, 'cause I was running a few minutes late, and then said that they'll drop a few more cupcakes off at my work before heading off to a concert. WELL!!! This was the moment of truth. Would they both come in? Would it be just one of them? Muahahahaha.

It was her :) She came in, alone, to drop off three cupcakes, each of every flavour made. I thanked her, she hung around awkwardly, but I had to work... I gave her a hug and said goodbye. Oh it was so satisfying. And a brilliant, brilliant hug.

I'm going to go melt off into memories and tiredness and possibly more msn conversations.
//collapses

Manga on my Walls

I've been looking at art mediums and the different ways in which they are used. I am looking for a medium, or combination thereof, that will inspire me. Inspire, in this case, translates to "enable me to see myself transferring the realities in my head, using these media, with acceptable likeness." Perhaps I will create a gigantic drawing of a Manga girl on my wall... that would be so disquieting! Walking by her all the time...

I went for my first bike ride of the season today. Took on some roads and a bumpy trail, and then sped down a couple grassy hills, the latter two being exactly what my mountain bike was made for. I could feel it in the way the machine responded to the terrain... amazing, fitting, fast.

NaNoWriMo organizers are doing another awesome event - Script Frenzy, scheduled for this April. Their Script Frenzy swag is fabulous! I hope to collaborate with Sky on a script, or perhaps practice my Goddess organizational skills by writing my own smut.

All of this is to say that I am currently mastering myself. I have no intention of giving another the gift of being their Master, or even their Guide. I believe the decision to be one's Master is connected with love and the Universe - and so it truly is a gift, even if the undertaking itself is more of a journey or rite of passage. The decision must stem from a space infinitely wise and calm. This conflicts, in my mind, with my passionate desires to inflict pain and command obedience. How can I, while burning up so with pleasure, remain calm? I can, of course, and I have... but is it worth it? (Yes. It is. I feel, however, that there is a missing piece to the puzzle here...)

I am, and always will be, Goddess. I am a kinkster, fetishist, lover of play, one to be worshipped, and many other wonderful, burning-hot boxes, labels and ambiguities. I do intend to master and guide others - to caress their souls; but I am taking myself on the path first, and others can follow suit.

Perry

Perry is coming to visit me from the 16th to the 20th of March. I am supremely excited. Her and I plan to go hiking (with or without the dog, depending on how kinky I want this hike to be,) attending a queer production that I am a part of, and generally having lots of awesome interactions. Cleaning my room and practicing up on some combination knife/fire play are on the list of things to do before next next Tuesday. *grins*

Hallelujah

Submission is in the eye of the... well, submissive. What about domination? Is it in the eye of the beholder? Will how I look affect how another will perceive me (possible Domme vs. just some girl), or will how I look influence my channeling of energy, which will in turn reflect on how The Eye sees me?

Consequently: can I harness my energy to the extent that I will be perceived as dominant whenever I want, no matter how I look? Can I manipulate it so that it trickles or gushes, hovers or overtakes one as a warm wind at my will, as the situation commands it, as I feel would be most effective, or positive (not always the same thing?!)?

There are lots of questions. I look forward to finding more photos or links for this post. :)

Top

Sky wrote a particular entry (With my hands up, you got me now) that inspired me to start writing again. There was a quote from a Dom that wrote to her, and her subsequent emotional response as a submissive. It reminded me of my interchange with KittyBoy, when I came over to his place just a few days ago. He is so sure of his non-kinkiness, and this very well may be the case. His skin is incredibly sensitive, marks very easily, low pain tolerance on the surface(vs. work-out-type muscle pain, which I would assume is high for him, as he does quite a bit of body training.) Awesome to work with! I was pondering consent afterward, as I randomly do. It is interesting that no verbal consent was taken or given, nor were we doing a "scene." He is an old ex, one I see a couple times a year due to circumstance and/or emotional readiness - and perhaps we will see each other more often now, who knows. We're very comfortable with each other, cuddling and such. It's nice. It's warm. It's a brilliant and perfect gateway to us testing out each others' boundaries and desires. I don't mind his attempts at topping me, as I enjoy the physical sensation of someone's hand at my throat, even if it often amuses me to see the other person try or assume that it comes with a mental level of domination (which is possible, but not at this stage in my life, not with all the wrong people, not while I'm in topping mode.)

I am back from work, now - had to cut myself short, before. I am going to a roundtable discussion on mentorship in the kink community next week (location confirmed!) I'm excited to meet some old and new faces, hear what people have to say... perhaps even find someone who I can see eye to eye to on some issues, or perhaps knife to knife, flogger to flogger? *grins*

Back to KittyBoy, I really enjoy the fact that I took the lead. I am ready to admit that, hey... I like hurting people; I like handing out pain, withholding pain, increasing pain, leading people to like pain, showing people different kinds and how far its effects can go. I love giving pain even if it wasn't asked for. Let's face it, I enjoy giving pain, as well as all sorts of domination in general, in a different, sick and twisted way - even when the other does not want it at all. I acknowledge that, and I do not indulge my sadistic side in the 'true' meaning of the word.

Aight, now sis is in the room so I shall finish this tomorrow... ciao! :)
And I'm back. It's fun to follow all the interruptions it takes for me to finish this post. Yay.

In my ever-growing path of coming out as queer, kinky, etc., I've run into some fun situations. Like coming out to my parents over and over again without any change in the level of acceptance (i.e. denial) when it comes to my liking people - picky as I am, gender is not one of my main considerations. Unless I just want to taste the entire rainbow before choosing my part of the spectrum!

I wonder how I would feel if I was in a D/s relationship with someone that went beyond the bedroom. Whether my emotional balance would be different if the power was exchanged as opposed to divided, balanced, compromised. For me to give concise directions on how I want to be treated and interacted with, on how I want my sub to behave (and misbehave). To care for someone, treat them as a Being, but have them submit. I won't say human Being, simply because I do not place value of a human life over another life - but I figured I would clarify the extent to which I value respect and mutual admiration in any interaction.

I have a vagina. Does that mean I have a "wound between my legs," as Isabel Allende's countryfolk say? It means I couldn't pound someone with a real cock. I am of 'the weaker sex,' and these considerations (both from society's perspective and my own) are utterly, utterly depressing.
I have a CUNT. Does that mean I will write myself a Womanifesto, as Inga Muscio tells me? Will I carry it with me to refer to for those bad days? What are those bad days, anyways? Certainly not when I'm bleeding - unless I am living with folk who do a lot of emotional arm twisting, but then there are bad days all the time:

 



Now think about the baby vaguely understanding what the parent *just said* to them up there. Awesome, hey?!

There is a lot more to ramble on about, but this has been sufficiently long.

Yay - Zombie Image

Things that are awesome

Things that are awesome about my life today:

Vegan Ethiopian food

Peeps that care (Perry, Sky)

Perry and I went for  food today, and even though she is not vegan or vegetarian, she got the vegetarian (vegan) platter for two with me so that we could share our food, as Ethiopian food is intended to be shared. That being said, she's more of a seafood slut than the standard chicken/lamb/beef fare anyway. *smiles*

 Sky is just awesome and frequently on msn to talk with.

Facing my palms up on my lap, or while holding my hands out in front of me... this is a great "openness" position. It is for when you are open, your energy flowing up and intermingling with that of others and the room. Keep in mind that this is also a vulnerable, much less protected position, so do not force yourself into it. If you're curious about which part of something makes you uncomfortable or anxious, it may be useful to use this open position in a comfortable and safe space, then start thinking or talking about your topic of interest... note when your hands naturally curl sideways and up into fists... those moments are clues of what specifically has that effect on your energy within that topic! They are like notes to consider: "oh, hmm, okay."

My dog... his first baby tooth to come out is all wobbly and waiting for that tooth fairy moment! I made him a frozen damp rag to chew on as a present of his coming of age. *grins*

Chocolate makes everything better.

 I am considering program options at university and while the financial considerations are on the priority list at this point in my life, Women's Studies is still the most appealing. The study of feminity and the possibilities of participating in a cuntlovin' world distract me from any financial consideration momentously. But who knows, perhaps I will be part of the movement to "design and implement cuntlovin' economic and legal systems, run huge cuntlovin' corporations and make sure all of our children are loved, protected, fed, clothed, educated and tucked into bed with a sleepytime story that has a happy, cuntlovin' ending." And then I will be comfortable financially as well as living the life! The order there is wrong, somehow; but it is there.

Well, I'm off to type up an article for Sky,of the kinky submissive feminist perspective! A former partner that was fond of bottoming for me described my style of domination as a caressing of one's self (the sub's). Goddess that I am, off to nurture I am. Human I am. *smiles, smirks, grins*

Masturbation Gallore

 The first post - an erotica, of course. *smiles*

          Here is my story to you from a couple days ago. You see, I was lying in bed and my fingers touched my clit, then my breasts – questioning, seeing if my body and mind were up for a rumpus. I let my mind drift, then questioned my body a little while later, feeling that tonight is the night – I haven’t come in days, probably even over a week. I smile in my mind, trace my finger down my soft stomach, pass near my bellybutton with a hint of erotic suggestion, then smile and feel the entrance of my cunt. It’s wet. Yeah! This is a pleasant surprise as I was fully expecting myself to be unresponsive, roll over, get to sleep. Well, looks like I’m in for some exercise. I let my hands roam over my naked body, palms embracing the touch of my skin. I’m not getting there, it’s not erotic, my body is stationed at ready to be turned on, but unresponsive. Well then… kinky night it is! I grin as I remember some of the things I’ve done to myself in the past with thrilling success. I search our house in my mind, then run to the bathroom, remembering I’ve got some safety pins there. Beside those, I find my glistening Master chain, and grab that and the wide blue elastic bands I’ve been collecting just in case. I clench everything in my hands, feeling the textures, my face full of secret desires and excitement.
          I’m back in our bed, warm and content with the heat on. My toys are at my side. The lights are off. I feel up my nipples, now plump and ready, and reach for a safety pin. My right nipple gets to be squished up into the slot between the two thin wires of the pin. It’s not quite the right amount of nipple constricted, though, and so I open the pin, and readjust it to capture more flesh… the sharp pointy wire wobbles a little, then finally locks into place. Everything is already getting more sensitive, with the metal touching my skin, my nipple and fingers meeting in collaboration. My left nipple is free of constriction, so I touch, squish, twist, pull, twist some more. The inside of my cunt is buzzing with anticipation. I touch my clit, massaging it gently to find that spot, then move on down inside myself, frustrating my clit in the process. It wants my fingers back – now! My hand roams on the bed beside me, trying to feel what I have in reserve that I want to play with. I realize, suddenly, that I brought my accessory eye glasses with me into the bedroom. How delightful!
          The slender plastic bars that would run along the side of my face and behind my ears, if I were wearing the glasses, are called the “temple” (the straight part), and the “temple tip” (the curvy part behind the ears). I know this, now, so that’s what I shall call them.
          Anyhow, the temple tip ends up exploring my clit and the rest of my cunt, the curve providing a moan-worthy double sensation of pleasure. The transparent plastic glides smoothly along my wetness. It is a different feel – not so warm or rough, like my fingers are. The tip doesn’t know exactly where it’s going to hit, unlike my hands, which have a map of my delicious, spread-open cunt memorized. I like the surprise and the tender, shuddering sensation of that interaction. I like how the curve of the temple tip touches almost half the circle around my cunt opening at one time. I like how gently my mind and body, now one, guide this unexpected object of eroticism carefully inside me. Not too far, at first. The tip provides just enough curve that it stays inside, tantalizing the entrance to my cunt in its wetness, sending an elevated sense of sexuality throughout my being. The awareness of something that thin, but contacting my fluids and a part of my walls inside is that of a general sensation of pleasure. I enjoy it… it makes me hunger for more, allows my body to know it’s okay to not always consciously feel the exact details of what going on. It attunes me to my pleasure just as it is, and leaves me in balance, relaxed, and victorious.
          I leave the tip inside and use one hand to glide over my clit; tease it, feel it deeply and surely, use my cunt lips – each movement reverberating with an echo of pleasure just inside me. I slap my cunt over and over, getting harder and harder with my strokes, yet ever gentle. My other hand returns to probe my right nipple. It’s far more sensitive, the blood having rushed to it. Touching it and playing with it increases my general state of arousal even more. Knowing to increase the sensitivity again, I pull a plastic band under and around where the safety pin is squishing my willing areola. I fasten it with a few more turns, and the extra little bit of pain and arousal rushes through me. I take the knobby metal of the Master chain in my left hand entirely, and press it into, around, against my left breast. This way, the harder I tighten my fist, the more the chain presses into my breast and my left nipple. My right nipple is all set. I touch, flick, and twist it a few times. Then direct my right hand to my waiting cunt. My left hand stays with my left breast and the Master chain, pressing in. I explore the feeling of the temple of the glasses going in a bit further inside my cunt. As I probe to see which part of wall will respond the best, I settle on the curved tip pressing lightly into the side and bottom wall of my cunt – towards my ass. My hand rests on my clit, then massages it and taps it fervently. My left hand digs the Master chain further and further in as I come closer to orgasm. The soles of my feet are against each other, my knees turned out and legs relaxed. There’s no way to cheat or redirect my orgasm into contracted leg muscle. So I keep going and going, my hands swirling and swirling away, the common household objects doing their magic on the dirty, wonderful, sexy, wet and near-orgasm slut that I am. My body warms, relaxes. I’m fulfilled, though not there yet. Finally I move my right hand from the fervor around my cunt to squeeze and rotate my bound nipple. My body arches, the soles of my feet still together. I lift off the bed while the contractions in my cunt ripple within themselves, like an ocean wave coming in and out at the shore. I relax again, in a different way now. Everything is soft and pliable. I release my nipples; they feel so soft that my hands start roaming again, continuing. But my body is settled for the evening, and I snuggle into my post orgasmic feeling, resting my head on our bed for another dream-filled night.