Friday, March 10, 2017

Glimpses of intensity

A latex outfit.
Too tight in some spots,
too loose in others. 

Seeing all my flaws,
and not caring.
The look in your eyes changes what I am.
What I see. 
What I feel. 
In your eyes, I'm the most beautiful woman in the world.
And I believe you. 
In that moment only, perhaps. 
But such a glorious moment.
I'm beautiful.

A goddess
All-powerful
Confident.
In control. 

All you want is to grovel. 
Beneath me.
All I want is to rule.
Above you.

Your face to the ground,
Shoving you down.
My toes into your mouth. Woolen socks. Slightly dirty. 
You hate it. It's disgusting. 
I hate it. It's disgusting.

Who'd ever do something like this to another person?
Who'd actually enjoy something so disgusting?

You don't get a choice.
Submitting to my will. 
I make you beg.
I hear you whimper. 

You love it. 
I love it. 
I decide all.

Through my ruling
we're both free 
to enjoy each other
and enjoy ourselves.
The connection.

Love you.
Love me.

Later on the bed:
Still in latex, my skin out of bounds. 
Grinding against me. 
So turned on. By everything.
And me as well. 

Begging me to hurt you. 
Hurting you,
too much.
Reminding you that you begged for it.
Laughing.

Making you cum,
handsfree. 

Afterwards:
Dazed
Like a drug, a buzz.
Feeling high as a kite, 
mind like fog,
thoughts like molasses. 

Conclusion: 
It wasn't about me. 
I didn't want cuddles, 
didn't want penetration, 
didn't want petting, 
didn't want orgasms. 

And yet it was all about me.
Never stronger,
more powerful,
more sexy,
more beautiful.

Never believing it more. 

Under the latex
Wetness
Soaked
Though not from physical touch.

All mental.

Pure control. 
Pure dominance. 

Perfection,
or so it felt
in that moment,
the moment was all that mattered

Love. 

Thank you. 

I'm still flying.

A rebuttal

You can mostly ignore my previous post. That was 80-90% the drop speaking. I feel much better now.

Wonderful tonight?

It's late in the evening
I'm not wondering what clothes to wear
I sit in the darkness, braiding my long red hair
And then he asks me, "Do you feel all right?"
And I say, "Yes, I feel wonderful tonight"

Or do I?

Tonight has been intense. All highs and lows. Or actually.. Mostly a huge high, but not unexpected I'm now dropping like a stone. I probably would have gotten some sort of drop no matter what, being tired and having had a really intense play session. But I made it worse by hurting someone I care about. And right now, all the guys that l care deeply for are either busy or asleep. So I write. It's how I deal with stuff.

Sometimes it feels like whenever I try to share something of mine... Try to share the joy, the love, the life that I feel/think/experience... I end up hurting someone.

Is this just the drop speaking? Probably. That doesn't make it any less unpleasant, though.

I worry about writing these very words. I'll probably hurt someone by giving details of my awesome play session tonight... But I'll probably also hurt someone by not writing about it. And if I write of this funk that I'm currently in, and all the elements that combined to cause it, I might also cause someone pain. So this blog post will cause pain by being positive, and cause pain by being negative. It's like no matter what I do, it's wrong for someone.

I guess I could refrain from writing anything at all. That might hurt me, in the end. Maybe that's preferable?

Why would I hurt? Because I need this blog. To think. To process. To document. To go back and read through stuff from earlier and go "man, what I crazy back then" or "wow, I guess I really have changed" and sometimes "hm, guess I wasn't as stupid as I thought I was".

I need it because writing helps me go through things, helps me get in touch with my feelings and figure them out. Unravel the chaos, and wind them all up on spools... Separate by colour, material and weight. Crying from an overwhelming mess of emotions feels like adding chaos to the mess, making more knots and tangles. Crying while writing this feels better. Cathartic, cleansing. Like a balm.

But my comfort is not worth hurting the people I love. Maybe I should write, and not publish?

No, I think that would feel fake to me... Like I could go back and change it at any time. Also, I couldn't go back and read through it in the same way. I couldn't sort them by categories and keywords, I couldn't do word searches, couldn't cross-reference and link, or add pictures. Not without making a completely different system for my notes, and using some kind of cloud program with an inbuilt archiving system (like a blog?)... And changing to a whole new system just doesn't feel worth it. I think it would be easier not to write at all, and damn my personal consequences.

Gah, I don't know. Feels like I'm running in circles, each argument countering the previous one. Can't decide, can't think.

Tea, a blanket and simple entertainment (my usual recipe for drops) doesn't seem to work. Writing doesn't really seem to work.

I'll just leave this as it is, and come back to it later. Maybe I can make more sense of it then... Or maybe it will all feel different tomorrow and I'll write my own rebuttal then.

"I feel wonderful because I see
The love light in your eyes
And the wonder of it all
Is that you just don't realize how much I love you"

Monday, March 6, 2017

Service from Saint

Saint and I have started working on me being more comfortable receiving service from him. Like having him pleasure me orally just for my sake, massage my feet, hold things for me, fetching things for me etc. Little things, but they've been hard to me to accept. Hard, but good, because I feel like this is something I need to work on.

The other day, he first made me tea and then knelt at my feet. I used him as a footstool, while I read a book, ate some sandwiches and checked my phone. While it was going on, my mind was like a pendulum going back and forth between enjoying it tremendously and freaking out.

It got easier when I felt that he was relaxing and enjoying himself as well. It made me feel less selfish, less like I was taking advantage. And I did enjoy myself. It was submission and dominance, but in a calm almost zen-like manner. Not directly sexual (at least not to me), just very pleasant. Close, intimate, nice.

I want to do it again, if I get the chance. I just have to overcome my own insecurities each time, to actually suggest it. I'm working on that.

Monday, February 27, 2017

Unfair to the comets?

When I first met Swede, we tried to do a more "full time"-ish relationship. Despite the long distance. After a few months, I realised (again!) that I didn't have the time or energy for yet another full time relationship. I've come to this realisation several times before, but I keep trying again. Because I like having intense emotional connections with people.

Instead of cutting Swede completely off, he became something like a comet (which I explained here). Sometimes we chat several times per day, sometimes we don't speak for a week. We have some great long skype calls, but they have become much less frequent than they used to be. I still care deeply for him, and I'm really looking forward to seeing him again this summer. I hope we can play and have fun, but just as important is cuddling and talking. Because I love him and look forward to spending time with him.

For me, this amount of contact works out perfectly. I spend time with him when I've got the energy and opportunity to do so, and don't feel bad when that isn't possible (or try not to feel bad, anyway). I've got a fairly busy schedule, he has a very open schedule, meaning that he's almost always available whenever I want him to be.

What bothers me about this arrangement is that it gives me too much power. I feel like I become some sort of royalty, doling out my attention to supplicants who come begging. He has to wait on my time. On my whims. I'm keeping him at arm's length, because I don't have the energy for anything closer or more involved. And he accepts that, despite missing me and despite not having anyone else in his life that he can turn to for intimate relations or close emotional support. It feels too unfair, for him. Too unbalanced.

Of course, I don't see how we could have any other sort of relationship. This is the best and the most involved that I can offer. I don't have any other solution. I guess it just makes me feel bad that I'm his only source for emotional or physical closeness, so he's left bereft whenever I can't prioritize him.

We've spoken about this, and he claims to be ok with it. He says that some of me is better than none of me, and that he's glad he's getting anything at all. That the longing and emotional ups and downs are worth it. I have to trust that, and trust that he's able to take care of himself and his own needs. I just worry that I'm taking advantage, seeing as everything is on my terms.

The reason this has come up at all, is because of Cogito, the guy I met this weekend. If things work out, and we keep getting along, he could theoretically become another comet. Another "this is great fun when it happens, but for long stretches of time it won't"-kind of relationship. And I worry.

That guy claims that it only seems unfair from my standpoint, but I don't understand that statement. It's the guys I worry about, after all. Not myself. I'm in the sweet spot, getting the most by giving the least. I don't understand how that isn't unfair on some level, but like I said: I don't have a solution.

Sunday, February 26, 2017

What did work out

After the first 30 hours or so of the festival this weekend (some, of course, spent sleeping, so perhaps they shouldn't count), no one had shown any interest in me that wasn't just regular friendliness. At least not that I could notice. (Now, I don't want to rule out that I might have lacking abilities in discovering when people are flirting. If I do, that could be part of the problem.)

I'd been participating, asking questions, meeting new people, dancing, and even (for the first time in over two years) drunk enough to make me slightly tipsy. I'd been very frank about being poly and about being sexually liberal, open and interested. I'd also talked to quite a few people about my interests in kink and in particular in bondage, though not in great detail.

I made a decorative shibari pattern of yarn on my name tag, as a sort of kink-recognition trap. You either see what it is, or you don't, and if you do... Well, we could have overlapping fields of interests. I also carried a half-length of rope on my body during the evening hours, so as to be able to show people rope stuff in a social context, if they were interested.

I was trying to present myself and my interests in a way that was light hearted and fun, so as to not come off as too aggressive. I also wanted to leave people the option of pursuing those topics further if they wanted to, but also the option ignoring those topics and just talk of other things.

After well over 24 hours, I was slowly becoming disillusioned and concluding that still practically no one found me attractive enough to show any interest beyond friendliness. I was seriously considering seeking out the French guy whom I'd gotten to know during the previous week, even though I didn't really fancy him at all. At least it would be some physical attention, even if I didn't feel quite comfortable with the idea.

Then, due to a series of random events, I started talking with a guy at a party (edited to add: This is the guy I've since named Cogito.) I offered him some of my cider, and he commented on my name badge (with the shibari-like decorative pattern on it).

I showed him the length of proper shibari rope that I "happened" to carry on my body, saying half-jokingly that I was looking for "willing victims" to tie up. I asked him, like I'd asked everyone else I'd talked to about it, to spread the word to anyone who might be interested. However, as opposed to everyone else I'd talk to, he said "I might be a very willing victim".

Score.

Admittedly... Not quite in the way I originally wanted to.
It was not someone who saw me, found me attractive, and started flirting with me.
It was not someone who viewed me as a sexy and interesting person, based on who I am or how I look, and therefore desired me.
It was someone who saw me as an available dominant woman, and who desired me for that. For what I could do to them. For the experience I could provide. The service I could give. Not for who I am.

After the comment about being tied up, things quickly developed. We talked a lot, got to know each other better, negotiated, kissed and played and had fun. I loved the time I had with him, and really grew to care for him over the two short nights that we had. I have no doubt that he enjoyed spending time with me, liked me as a friend, found me intelligent and interesting, and that he liked the things I did to him.

However, the idea of being desired for who I am, and not for my skills or the service I can provide, is an old insecurity of mine. I wrote about this already back in 2012, and although I'm somewhat more confident now than I was then, most of that blog post is still true. I am not just my looks, of course. I also consist of my experiences, thoughts, ideas, temperament, and all those other things. But my looks is my weak point. (If not in reality, then at least confidence wise.)

I had a great time with him, I'm glad we found each other and very happy that we played. I'll probably write more about it at some later point. But just like with Swede (and back in 2012 with Tight), I have a very hard time to believe that this guy actually desires the person I am.

It might just be a personality issue...? Thinking back, I notice that both that guy, Swede and Tight (and Corvus and Mondage, before them), are rather reserved people. Not all of them are shy, but all are careful in social contexts. They sometimes struggle with what to say, they over-think, and they aren't among the most "popular" or loud guys in a crowd.

However, that description fits Saint as well. And I feel very confident that Saint desires me for me. I've been able to trust that since the first week we played. So personality isn't the whole explanation...

Besides, as opposed to Swede, Tight and Corvus, this guy is really, really good at speaking his mind. He seems to be more in contact with his emotions, he articulates both feelings and intentions clearly, he expresses his needs and he's able to explain (to a large degree) how he "ticks".

So am I just misreading him? Putting too much weight on observations and behaviors, and not enough into what he actually says? I'm not sure if I can do otherwise...

Maybe I'm the one over-thinking things?

What didn't work out: The French

This weekend, T and I participated in a conference/festival. It's not a kink/poly/BDSM event, but many of the participants were kinky/poly in some way. And the majority of the participants were sex positive, open minded and fairly liberal.

This festival has a long and proud tradition, and many of our friends and acquaintances have participated several times before. I went there mostly to figure out what the fuss was about, and to be more "in" on all the jokes and stories people in our social group tell to each other. I also wanted to find someone to hook up with and have some casual and intimate fun. I'd prefer if it was BDSM-related, but would also have been happy with some heavy vanilla petting.

Or so I thought.

A few days before the event began, three people crashed in T's and mine appartement. One of them was a polyamorous, bearded french guy around 40. Not particularly kinky or at least not part of any kink scene, and therefore unused to the typical BDSM-like negotiations. We got to know each other a bit (despite his poor English and my poor French) and he was nice enough, and we ended up kissing for a bit. However, I hesitated with taking that any further.

I spent the next two days trying to figure out why. Partially, I think it was because I wasn't particularly interested in him. He was nice enough sure, but I didn't feel like we "clicked" in any way neither physically or mentally, and he didn't have the charisma to overcome that lack (as some people do).

But partially, I think it was because I felt uncomfortable entering into any intimate encounter without a proper negotiation. At least, I felt a need to express where my boundaries were (for example no penis-in-vagina sex), so that he wouldn't feel like I was leading him on in any way..  and I wanted to talk about health issues (like the use of protection and those kinds of things). And with the language barrier being as it was, I simply wasn't interested enough to actually make the effort of having that talk.

And that makes me wonder... If I actually did catch the eye of someone interesting.. On a dance floor, for example.. Would I actually feel able to do anything with him? Spontaneous, in a darkened corner of a room, music blaring? Or would I not be able to go beyond a kiss, without really talking properly first? Doesn't all that talking remove some of the magic, the spontaneity, the flow, the feeling of being in the moment?

Is this attention that I desire, really just a mental construct? A fantasy that I'm too much of a control freak to actually explore in real life? And if the answer is yes: Is this something I ought to change? Or is this desire for control actually a good thing, because it means I'm being more safe. Not just for my own security's sake, but for the sake of my other partners and metamours..

The French encounter has given me new insight into my own reactions, thought patterns, wants and needs. I don't have any answers, but I've at least discovered more questions.

A philosophical ramble on attention and attraction

(I thought I'd written this elsewhere in this blog, but apparently I hadn't. So I'm writing it here.)

In the kink community, dominant women are in high demand. And since I'm an experienced, highly visible and outspoken person, who's willing to play casually with others.. Well, I'm usually not lacking in offers.

However, in no other social scene do I get the same attention. In other social settings, it feels like I'm still stuck in high school, sitting in a corner and watching the more popular girls having all the fun. Being alone, while others are swimming in offers (often more than they want).

For this reason, it's always difficult for me to deal emotionally with the discussions concerning unwanted sexual attention from guys. Like cat-calling or people groping women in a bar queue.

(Now, I don't doubt that this is a problem, for lots of women, and I can sympathise on an intellectual level. I've also felt slightly worried when walking alone in town at night, I've taken precautions with where I meet someone for the first time, I try not to get overly drunk at parties, I worry that I'm "leading someone on" if I'm too nice to them... So yeah "rape culture" is definitely a problem. I do think about my own safety in my daily life, and especially when interacting with men I don't know that well.)

But on some level, I wish I could get some of that attention that other women seem to hate. I know it's irrational, and that I probably wouldn't want any such attention from guys if it did happen to me... I know that stalking and cat-calling and groping and veiled threats hidden as compliments aren't nice, and they don't make people feel wanted or desired or safe. But still...

But still, I can't help notice that some women get all the attention. All the positive attention AND all the negative attention. Some women... not me.

Like I said, it's like being back in high school, watching the popular kids. Sometimes, I feel like negative attention would be better than none at all. That way, at least, I'd know that SOMEONE was attracted to me. Someone thought I was sexy. (Someone, who didn't know that I represent the commodity that is "Dominant Woman".) Someone who saw me, and was attracted to me. Yeah, it's sort of irrational, I know.

Still, I can't quite shake it.

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Rope weekend (with pictures!)

Saint and I just had an amazing weekend with a group of shibari / bondage enthusiasts. The entire weekend was just ropes, ropes, ropes. I didn't read books, or use my computer, or check Facebook or read blogs like I use to. On our way home on Sunday, my fingers and hands were so raw and sore, even typing on my phone hurt! I'm still sore, and my muscles ache.

It was SO worth it, though. The atmosphere was amazing, with several couples all tying, watching, learning and enjoying rope in the same room. I got to try stuff that I'd never done before, practice techniques that I've yet to master, and got to develop as a rigger. Saint and I also had a great time as a couple, growing closer and sharing our love of rope with each other.

One technique I kept practicing was a "rope ladder", for use with (full- or partial-) inverse suspensions. I did it four times (!!!), and still it kept slipping. I just couldn't get it tight enough. Finally, another woman there showed me how to do it tighter. Here's a picture of her work, on Saint's legs. I look forward to practicing some more, and see if I can finally get it right.


(Also, Saint dislikes feet, both his own and other peoples. So posting this might embarrass him a bit... And we both enjoy humiliation, so hopefully that will be fun.)

Under the skilled guidance of a friend of ours, Saint even got to tie me up. He's never done such advanced bondage before, only some self-bondage and some simple cuffs. He did a "3TK", a box tie with an extra rope added for security and tightness. Here's a picture of my back with the ropes in place:


I had to struggle between freaking out (because I was tied up) and enjoying it (because I was tied up). It was exhausting, and several times I was close to using a safe word and begging them cut me out. In the end, the exhaustion, thrill and pain of the ropes, made me zone out. Meditatively. Drunkenly, sort of. A very interesting experience, and I've still got the bruises to show for it. Though in my mind, this has confirmed that I'm still more of a rigger than a bunny.

I also did my first self-suspensions during the weekend. Both times from a hip harness, the first one very improvised and the other one a proper (if slightly loose) Leto harness. You're supposed to be able to turn up-side-down in it, and another women there did just that... I only dared to go down to about 60 degrees, and then chickened out. I've never liked being up-side-down. It was fun to swing, though!



I'd like to try self-suspension again. As long as I could control it 100%, being in the ropes itself wasn't so bad. I want to do it again, not only because it was challenging (though that's part of it).. But also because self-suspension will make me a better rigger. It demands more control, more strength and better technique. Honing my skills, will make the bondage experience better for both my bunny and me in the future.

Monday, December 19, 2016

What is love?

A friend of mine told me that when he first heard of polyamory, he thought that meant that two people would have to share the love previously reserved for one. As if a person has 100 "love points" to give out, and one person used to get all the points. But with polyamory, that person would now only get 50 points and the other lover would get the rest.

What he realised, after talking with poly people and thinking about it some more, is that it doesn't work like that. A person has 100 "love points" to give to you, whom they love. If they love another person as well, that person also gets 100 "love points", that are unique to them. If the relationship those two have with each other were to end, you don't all of a sudden get 200 points. Those 100 points go away with that person.

What he learned from this is that love is unique to each individual. There is no competition for love, no struggle to get more than the others, and no point on worrying that you'll get less. Love is love, and the love you two feel for eachother is special. Different from the love you would feel for anyone else.

This post in at least partially inspired by this blog post here. The point was that we shouldn't worry so much about the word "love". Love simply means that you like this person so much, your feelings have transcended "like" and become something much stronger. You might love this person for the rest of your life, that's true. But you might as well love them for a few years, or a few months, or for even shorter time spans. Does that make your feelings any less wonderful? Valuable? Real? Any less strong? No! Love is love, regardless of time, or distance, or relationship status, or gender, or age.

When you stop believing in The One True Love, and recognize that all relationships are unique and have value in themselves, love doesn't need to be "saved up" for anyone. Saying "I love you" doesn't have to mean "let's get married". It doesn't have to mean "let's move in together". It doesn't even have to mean "I will now only love you". It simply means "I love you".

In the Scandinavian languages, there exist middle ground between "like" and "love". In Norwegian we say "glad i",  which could be translated to "cherish" or "care for". Commonly, you say that you "cherish" your parents, your children, your friends and even your lovers. Then there is the Norwegian term for being "in love", which is "forelsket". That doesn't carry such strong connotations of love either. You could say this to a boyfriend/girlfriend, without implying that you love them. In other words, in Scandinavian languages, saying "I love you" is a big deal. Even more of a big deal than in English.

I love T. I've loved him for many years, I loved him when we got married, and I'll most likely keep loving him until the end of my days. I can't know this for certain, but we've been together this long and we're showing no signs of stopping yet. I love him.

I love Saint. We've been together for over three years now. I fell in love with him really quickly, and said that I loved him after we'd been together for a very short time. I still love him, and it feels like my love for him grows every month we're together. My love for Saint is unique. So different from my love for T, to the point where they're practically incomparable. One is no less than the other, no more than the other, because "more" and "less" love are moot points. Love is love, and love is unique. It can't be compared.

But it doesn't stop there. If I am to be honest, I've probably loved almost every man I've ever played with. At least everyone where I felt there was some connection, some spark. Where the play actually worked like we both wanted it to. BDSM fuels this heady mix of trust, passion, excitement, pleasure, surrender, pain, and this cocktails combines to form really intense memories.

I have loved all my long-term play partners. Mondage. Corvus. Tight. I loved them. I never told them so, but I did. War, as well, even though that was just vanilla. I loved him. To have long term bonds grow into love isn't so strange. But in the hours when we played, I also loved Donald, in a unique way. I loved LOL. I loved Pet. The feelings didn't last, of course. I never did for any of them. It might only have been true love in the hours we spent playing. But that sensation WAS love. There is no other word for it.

Does the duration of a feeling make it more or less valid? More or less wonderful? Strong? True? I refuse to believe it does.

This spring, I loved Giant. I loved him as strongly as I've ever loved anyone. Do I love him now? Yes, no, maybe. I don't know. The feelings have faded somewhat, like muscles that shrink from disuse. And they will fade further in time, until I don't love him anymore. I'll probably always care for him, but not love him.

And last weekend, I loved Swede. My love for him is unique. Different from any other feeling of love I ever had. It doesn't carry any connotations, any expectations, it doesn't even mean we'll have any sort of relationship. "Love" doesn't mean any of those things. Love is just love. And my feelings for him probably won't last. We don't have enough time together, we don't have enough to build on. It will fade, like my feelings for War, or Tight, or Corvus. But it was love.

Duration doesn't make it less true.

Love is love is love.
And love is wonderful.

Sunday, December 18, 2016

A primal place of pain

Swede grew, changed and developed a lot in our extended weekend together. But he's new to BDSM, so that is to be expected. I always adapt and learn new things with every new partner, but I didn't expect just to what extent Swede would influence me.

Perhaps I should have seen it coming... I haven't been a bottom / sub for years, and I find it challenging to take on that role now. Challenging in a good way. I'm really enjoying myself, but it's difficult to yield control to someone else. To yield my body and mind to someone else. Difficult, scary, but interesting.

A lot of our play was still done with lots of starts and stops. I'd introduce a topic, something I wanted him to try or experience. We'd talk about it. He'd try it out. We'd talk some more. He'd try some more. And so on and so forth. At first he was a very "good student" in the sens that he only did the things I told him to do. No initiative, no experimentation, but after I'd pointed this out to him he got better. He started putting together all the puzzle pieces I'd given him, and make something that felt more like proper sessions.

Swede still needs to work on planning scenes and transitioning from one part of a scene to the next, but that comes with experience. Also, for whatever reason, he didn't experiment as much with dominance (for example postures, commands, humiliation, control etc). Perhaps because sadism, once you get over the moralistic "one shouldn't hurt people", is easier than dominance...? Easier because the feedback from the bottom is instantaneous and very clear. This hurt that much, this hurt THAT much. And if your goal first of all is to hurt, not dominate, the fact that something hurts is a good thing. With dominance, the feedback is more subtle and can be more difficult to read.

I've never been a masochist. A submissive, yes sure. I can accept pain as a means to an end, as a way to make me submit and know who's in charge. But pain for the sake of pain? No. Why would I? It hurts! Who wants to hurt?!?

My extended weekend with Swede showed me that I have a masochistic side after all. I never would have discovered that side of me, if Swede hadn't been such an enthusiastic sadist. I have him to thank for this:

We had one session that went beyond intense. We'd been playing on and off for most of an afternoon. I was warm and somewhat sore, my body flooded with the various hormones that get released during intense BDSM play. And perhaps most importantly, I trusted Swede not to do me harm. I knew he got off on hurting me, but I trusted that he wouldn't harm me.

My wrists were tied to the corners of the bed with leather cuffs. He was sitting on top of me, pinning my hips to the mattress. He gets turned on when I struggle and fight him, and I get turned on by losing to him... And by his reaction. Therefore, I held nothing back. I fought and I screamed, and I tried to get him off me. Of course, I had no chance in hell.

He started pinching and pulling on my nipples. Now, my nipples are very, very sensitive. I can't take much stimulus there at all before it really starts to hurt. However, he kept going. Kept on pushing me to endure more. And I did, because I knew he enjoyed seeing me hurt.

I was the strangest thing. I went from swearing at him and begging him to stop, to screaming, to just making incoherent, primal sounds. He managed to push me to a place I've never been before. A place where nothing else existed. There was only the pain, and his hands that gave me pain. I vaguely felt my body pinned under his weight, but I doubt I could have told you my name if he'd asked. Or which country I was in. And I didn't want him to ask, didn't want him to interrupt the flow, but at the same time, I was very close to how much I could handle. I just didn't want to leave that place. It was terrible, so incredibly painful, but also wondrous. Zen-like. Primal in a way I've never experienced before.

He stopped, with perfect timing. I'm still amazed at his instincts. I came back to myself immediately, and lay shivering in his arms for a while. Hours later, when the aftercare was done and we were sitting on the couch doing other things, I was still feeling high. I was trying to write a message to Saint, and I had to struggle to string words together. I was high as a kite, from the incredibly painful session we'd had a few hours earlier. My body was buzzing, everything felt clearer and more colourful. I loved everything and everyone. A euphoria of sorts.

The rest of the weekend, I craved that primal place of pain. Not just for the feeling once it was done. No, I craved the pain itself. I would initiate play, with the sole purpose of making him hurt me. Can you imagine how insane that felt, for someone who's never had masochistic inclinations before?!?

What did I love about it? I loved the intense connection between the top and the bottom. The undivided attention from him. The feeling of struggling, losing and eventually yielding to him. I loved how the pain was unavoidable. Completely out of my control. It hurt, and he loved to hurt me.

We had several similar sessions, but didn't obtained that same level of intensity again. Annoying at the time, sure, but it doesn't worry me. I know that it's obtainable. I know that place, that state of mind, can be reached again. And I long for it.

Weird, hu?

Swede: Endings and new beginnings

It's Thursdag the 12th of December. I'm at work, writing about this weekend I've just had with Swede. I've needed some time to digest it all. 

Our time together was so intense. Challenging, difficult, chaotic, confusing. But also sexy, lovely, exciting, exhilarating and wonderful. I want to write about a couple of our play sessions specifically, but first I want to explain our conclusions. An ending, of sorts:

I really like Swede. I care about him deeply. I want to keep him in my life. But! I just can't have a third full-time partner. I don't have the time, or the energy, or the will to make the sacrifices and priorities needed. That fact that it would be long-distance makes it worse, but I don't think I could have done it even had he been local.

This makes me feel bad, because I care deeply for him. But I just can't do it. Not now, not in this phase of my life. There's too much else going on, plans I'm working on that will change my life in other ways. So Swede and I won't be having a continuous connection or a full-time relationship.

However, I hope that Swede will become a comet. A "comet" is a poly term that first showed up on Fetlife. It means "a person that passes through your life repeatedly who is intense and awesome, and when gone you are still in contact with that person in some way but they are not a continuous partner."

I hope I get to see Swede again. Maybe this summer. Or maybe in a year or two, at some party or other event. I don't know, we don't have any specific plans. But I hope I see him again. And I hope we hook up again, and have more breathtaking fun with BDSM. I want that. 

I want him.

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Receiving service and giving humiliation

Saint and I are in a really good place these days. We just celebrated our 3rd anniversary as a couple, and although we both struggle with mental illness, stress and other stuff to distract us... We're good. Our play these last few weeks have been really intense, and we keep experimenting and evolving. Both as individuals and as a couple.

Saint is helping me come to terms with some self confidence issues that I wasn't aware that I had. For example, I have issues with accepting service from a sub/bottom, because receiving service makes me feel bad. And by service I mean stuff like them being a foot stool, or sitting by my feet holding my drink, or massaging my feet etc. I feel like I'm being too selfish, that I don't deserve this attention. I feel obligated that such service MUST evolve into more active play, because otherwise I'm just taking advantage. Basically, I'm struggling to accept that someone might DESIRE to service me.

So when I'm feeling tired or just not in the mood for active BDSM play, but could feel up for such D/s service.. I usually don't ask for it. Because I feel like this SHOULD lead to something more, something I just don't have the energy for. So rather than feel like I'm a tease, I refrain from any BDSM activity all together. Which isn't productive, as it denies both Saint and me some great opportunities for D/s interaction.

But we're working on that.

We're also exploring humiliation in ways I never would have anticipated. It's weird sometimes, to be so turned on by stuff that's so grose. Or just weird. For example: He's been asked to open his mouth and stick out his tongue. I'm standing over him, and slowly letting a large glob of spit drip from my mouth and onto his tongue. From there, it rolls back into his mouth. Nothing violent or forceful, but slowly. Purposefully.

And weird stuff too... Like making him suck on my strap-on dick. It's a silicone dildo... That shouldn't feel good for me. There are no nerve endings there. It makes no sense. And yet... And yet, I get SO turned on by it. And so does he. The other day, I made him suck my dick while I was sitting on a chair.. And he was in rope suspension, face down, just over my lap. He was completely tied up, had no say in the matter, and I moved his head and body in whatever way I pleased. I was ridiculously turned on, and so was he.

In fact, for the rest of that night I wore the strap on harness underneath my dress. Not with the dick in place, but still.. Just the harness turns me on. It makes me feel powerful.

Weird, I know.

Friday, October 28, 2016

Fun with free tying

In the workshop a couple of weeks ago, we practiced free tying. Meaning doing shibari ground work, without any pattern, system or symmetry in mind. The goal in the workshop was erotic bondage, connection, and a D/s power dynamic. But if you aren't really confident in hitches, you rather need "lets practice hitches". Or it could be both.

Saint and I have done both these past few days.

Yesterday, we did free tying on his torso while we were both sitting on the bed. He was leaning back towards me, and it was all kinds of nice and close and hot. And like you'd expect, this derailed into play and pain and sexy stuff. Which is also fun.

(His body against mine, tensing as I hurt him. Pleading with me to hurt him more. His breath, heavy and labored, as I push a hand against his throat. Damn, he's sexy!)

Today, I did more of a pure practice run. I tried to figure out the things I did wrong yesterday, and practiced the kama hitch and the Munter's hitch. In the end, he had five lengths of rope criss-crossing from his shoulders to his thighs. No pattern, no symmetry, but a tight and nice tie.

When the free tying was done, I used the web of ropes to tie him to the bed. Then I tortured his feet, tickled him, caned his thighs, and teased his nipples. In the end, I sat on his face and made him come.

All in all: Two great days. We've had fun with free tying. Hopefully, we'll do it again sometimes soon.

Monday, October 24, 2016

Learning / experiencing

I've also participated in two workshops recently.

The workshops were done by Barkas and Addie, two very experienced shibari teachers. They hold similar workshops all over the world, and I really see why. They were fantastic! So knowledgeable, so helpful, so nice and funny, and surprisingly humble. I loved watching them tie, their dynamic was beautiful to see.

The first workshop was called "The Rope Interview", and concerned non-verbal communication and dynamics in rope. I went to this workshop with Saint, and I've never seen him "disappear" into a sub headspace that quickly. It was amazing! The workshop helped us take our rope play from a neutral "let's practice this knot"-dynamic to a clearer "dom/sub"-dynamic. We experienced how ropes can be play in itself, and not just a preamble to "proper" play.

Sure, we'll still have plenty of practice sessions. But it was fun to discover how much you could play with the sub's mind, using just a single rope.

The second workshop, on the very next day, was floorwork and basic suspension. I had a different rope bottom for this workshop. I was also really tired from the previous day, and I guess that made me more emotional. So whilst he was a really nice guy, and we got a decent dynamic when tying, it felt weird... I had all this development in my rope skills, these "aha!"-moments, and Saint wasn't there with me.

I learned a lot, though. Even if it was with the wrong guy. I learned a few new techniques. I've practiced some hitches, and learned a new one (the reverse munter's hitch aka kama hitch). And I've had fun with spontaneous, unplanned, non-symmetrical shibari. And I've done my first partial upside-down suspension, which was awesome (and scary).

As the workshop progressed, I just missed Saint more and more. That evening, there was a bondage party, and Saint wasn't really supposed to go. However, I managed to convince him to come anyway. We were both tired, but we had a fun time and the party. I got to show him a few of the new things I'd learned, and we had a really fun scene with bondage torture. He's becoming quite the masochist! I had great fun sucking his dick (which I love), and at the same time hurting his feet and toes in ways he's never before experienced. Pain and penis, two things I love that begin with P.

So yeah. Loved the workshops. Had a great time at the party. Adore rope bondage.

Love Saint.

Teaching / lecturing

Like I said in a previous post, this fall is full of learning experiences.

I've developed a workshop in basic rope bondage, and held it twice so far. The workshop had two goals:
1. They should know enough not to kill anyone in ropes.
2. They should know enough to be able to experiment further on their own. Ropes shouldn't be scary anymore.

The first time I did it, was in someone's living room. It was cramped and stressed, as it took longer than I thought it would, but people were happy. The second time went much better. I got exactly the positive, helpful, curious atmosphere I wanted. When the workshop was done, people were still experimenting, having fun and supporting each other's explorations into rope. It was great fun.

I've been asked to hold the workshop again in November, for a large BDSM organisation. For this workshop, I've gotten a friend to help me out so that we're two people who can walk around and help people. Saint is also looking into some more high tech solutions to enable people to see my ties better. Both these changes means we can accommodate more people.

T and I also held our aftercare workshop/lecture again, coupled with a newly developed lecture on pain. The pain lecture/workshop needs a bit more work, and maybe some more practical demonstrations/tasks to engage the audience, but it's a decent start. I hope we can hold it again sometime soon.

Sunday, October 2, 2016

Intense, part two: Control

Swede (yeah, that's going to be his name now.) and I have kept chatting this past week. Last night we also spend a significant number of hours on Skype. And let me tell you, face-to-face communication (even through a webcam) is very different from written chat!

There is no doubt that I'm crushing on him. We have something, some connection or attraction, that is undeniable. I look forward to his messages throughout the day. I smile when I think of him. When I got to see him on cam last night, I felt a flutter in my stomach and couldn't help grinning. Yep, this is definitely a crush. I'm not sure I'm quite over Giant yet. It feels too soon, too sudden. Unasked for. But I don't have control over it, and I enjoy what's happening. So I won't fight it.

We still have a ways to go with the communication. He's still shy and uncertain, and probably not terribly aware of what goes on inside his own mind. This makes asking him what he feels or thinks about something a challenge. And we need to get to know each other better. But we're making progress.

We've been playing around with control and domination. He's triggering my submissive side in ways I didn't expect. I keep thinking about him and things he could do to me. And yesterday evening, chatting with him on Skype, was really intense.

We chatted for several hours, and we talked about everything from our family, to books we like, to politics. And we talked a lot about kink and sexy stuff. I don't even remember it all, and I'm uncertain of what parts came before or after what other parts. It's all a bit of a blur of naked bodies and laughter and touch and moaning.

But I remember two situations really well. The first was hot, but a bit absurd.

I asked if he'd ever had anyone kneel to him before. He said no, but also claimed he probably wouldn't like it much. So I placed the laptop on the table, and knelt down on the floor in front of it. Looking up on the camera, he could get an idea of what it would be like. His reaction was immediate and 100% positive. He got really turned on by looking at me on my knees. We kept playing around with this for a while. I put a small chair on the living room table, and placed the computer on top of that. This made the camera angle more realistic.

So there I was, kneeling naked in front of an absurd tower of furniture. And was turned on by it. I couldn't help but laugh, it just felt bizarre. But the image on my screen made his reaction obvious. I could clearly see how it turned him on.

The second situation was really, really intense.

Earlier in the evening, we'd been chatting and talking for awhile, and I was really turned on by it all. I got my vibrators out and started touching myself. I gave myself two orgasms while he was watching me on the webcam, and for an exhibtionist like myself that was highly enjoyable. After I've come, I always laugh (or cry, but that's very, very rare). It's a spontaneous reaction to the release, and I can't help myself. Besides, laughing feels nice, even when I can't control it.

Swede is curious and interested in the things I can't control. So while I was kneeling on the floor, he made up a rule he knew I was bound to break. (For no other reason than to be able to "punish" me for it.) I wasn't allowed to laugh when I came. Of course, this is absolutely impossible. I have no control over this. But it was a fun challenge, and I went along with it.

So later on that night, I got really horny again and started touching myself in front of the webcam. I was teasing myself, not really on the brink of anything, and I asked if I might be allowed to come. He told me "no". I begged him, and he told me "no".

You see, once I'm up on that brink, about to come, I don't handle denial at all. It doesn't turn me on, it just makes me frustrated and angry. I'm difficult enough to make come as it is! However, when I'm just petting and stroking myself, like I was doing then, a bit of tease and denial is just fine. So of course this denial just turned me on even more.

I asked again, and he said "yes". That's when I went to work for real. I was so horny, even with two orgasms earlier that night, making myself come was easy. And just as I came, I remembered his rule: "Don't laugh." I couldn't control myself at all the first couple of seconds, and laughed and trembled. But then I grabbed hold of myself, and started fighting. And it was a real fight. I had to use my own arm to gag myself, I trembled and my body shook wildly. It took every single bit of willpower that I possessed, but I was able to do it.

And here's the weird bit: I'd thought that having to fight against this automated response, would diminish my pleasure. That it would be annoying and distracting. It wasn't.

I've had some good orgasms in my life, and this one was up there with the best of them. Not because the orgasm itself was anything out of the ordinary (good, sure, but those I give myself are never as good as those others are able to give me). It was so amazing because of the fight to obey, to do good, to please him. It was a loop of pleasure, control and lack of control, and yet more pleasure.

It was really, really intense. Unexpected, weird, a bit scary. But so pleasurable, and so intense. Now I just want more.

I'm curious to see where this will lead.

Intense, part one: Sadism

Yesterday was intense, to say the least. Or.. It actually started on Friday. I got home from work, feeling cuddly, and Saint was happy to oblige.

So we were in bed, cuddling, and cuddling let to petting and kissing.. And kissing let to more cuddles, and all of a sudden I was really horny. I put his hand on my crotch, and he touched me just the way I like it. I wasn't particularly wet at this point, the hornyness was too new. It was still mostly in my mind.

Then I hurt him. And it was as though someone had squeezed a wet sponge between my legs. Instant wetness! My pussy opening up, like a budding flower. I laughed, thinking it was just a coincidence, and did it again. And again, the same result.

In the end, I made him finger me until I came. His fingers are glorious and magnificent, and probably made of magic and unicorns or something. Love them!

I'm a sadist, it is known. However, I've never before experienced such an instant and tangible reaction. His pain turned me on. His suffering turned me on. It felt glorious, and slightly disturbing. Abnormal.

Then again, yesterday, we played. This time with bondage, as well as some pleasure and pain. At the end of a rather long and intense session, I had him on his back in the bed. His wrists were tied to the bed posts, and I was sitting on his face. Dripping wet, his tongue doing what it does best.

Now, I enjoy face sitting because it makes me feel powerful and in control. But the cunnilingus itself isn't really that good in this position. It's nice and pleasant, but there is no way I can get even near an orgasm. For that, I must be able to relax. And I don't relax when I'm sitting on someone's face.

However, yesterday was different someone. No, I still didn't orgasm from it. But I got as close as I've ever come before. I sat there, and took pleasure for myself, in stead of just focus on giving pleasure to him. My own enjoyment took over most of the conscious, analytical part of my mind, and I just DID things. Almost no thought, no plan. Animalistic need. Hornyness.

What triggered this strong response in me? Pain. Again.
I hurt Saint, pinching his nipples and hitting the inside of his thighs with a cane. And his reaction, how he was obviously in pain and yet enjoying it, triggered something in me. I don't think I've ever gotten that turned on by someone else's reactions ever. We ended up in an amazing loop, where his pain created pleasure in him and in me, and this in turn intensified the pleasure the other person felt.

It was raw, amazing, intense. And a bit scary. I'm scared of my own reactions. I knew I could enjoy hurting someone, enjoy their reactions and responses, enjoy the control. But in my mind, this cold, analytical enjoyment (which also turns me on, just in a different way) is very, very different from the intense, primal hornyness I experienced this weekend. A hunger, a need for him. His body, his cock, his pleasure, his pain.

There was still a sliver of control left. I didn't hurt him too much. I didn't suffocate him. I knew enough to hold myself back, somewhat. And I hope that controlled, civilized, safefy-minded part of me never, ever goes away completely. However, I'm used to even more control than this. Control over myself, my own reactions, but own desires. The sadism feel so strong in me, it's like an unruly beast. One I've only just got a leash on, but who fights the handler with every step.

It feels scary. Exciting too. Titillating. Tempting. Sexy. But scary.

Monday, September 26, 2016

On the Flip Side

This weekend has been interesting, to say the least. I went to a non-kinky cabin trip with another 12 people. Some I knew really well, some I had never met before. Among them was only one adult man. A Swedish guy (so I'm naming him Swede), three years older than me.

The two of us had never met before, but we hit it off really well on the first day. I felt in the mood for some cuddles and stuff, so I asked him straight out if we might hook up. I hadn't any expectations that I might get a "yes", but I figured it was worth a shot...

He was a bit surprised by my suggestion, and I gave him plenty of opportunities to back out. But he never did. When it also turned out that he was really curious about BDSM, but had very little experience with it, the weekend took a very unexpected turn.

After some cuddles and heavy petting on the first couple of days, two things became apparent:
1. He had very little sexual experience at all. Sure, he'd had sex before. But he'd experimented fairly little, had very few kinky experiences, and had a lot of preconceived ideas about what BDSM was and what it wasn't.
2. He wasn't a sub. Or even much of a bottom. He was a top and probably dominant as well.

This combination meant that he didn't respond well when I took charge. He went along with it, sure. I guess that was partially to please me, and partially for the experience itself. But it became fairly obvious that this wasn't his prefered role. At first, I couldn't figure out what was wrong. I felt as though he wasn't responding to me the way I'm used to, and I wondered what I was doing wrong. Pretty soon, I recognized it for what it really was: He's a top, and so am I. We ended up in a loop of "wanting to please the other person", where neither one was really happy. And although it wasn't exactly bad, it was pretty far from good...

We both wanted to fool around some more, even though we were far from a perfect match. So one of us had to yield the position of top. He didn't have the experience to recognize or articulate this, so it had to be me. Now, in principle I'm a switch. I started out as a sub and bottom, back when I was 18 and entered the BDSM scene. But I play from this position very, very rarely.

(In the last 10 years, I've been in a similar position once before: In the summer of 2015 when I fooled around with Arthur. He was also obviously a top, but very, very uncertain of how to handle it. Back then, it didn't go so well, as Arthur struggles with mental illness and freaked out by it all. We remain great friends, but I didn't feel like I managed to teach him that much... I needed to do better this time.)

So I took on the position of teacher and bottom. I remained firmly in control, both of myself and of the situation, but placed myself on the bottom in our dynamics. I made up small scenarios, where Swede got to play around with control and power in VERY controlled circumstances. For example, I tied some rope around my wrists, placed the rope around the bed posts, and just held the rope tight. This way, I was "tied up", whilst being able to just let go of the rope and be completely free. Or I would tickle him, and make him try to stop me by grabbing my arms and holding me down.

We would play like this for a few minutes, to let him have a taste of it, and then we'd back up and talk about it. My goal was to give him some experiences, and then make him analyze them, and practice articulating his thoughts and feelings. And this worked out especially well today, which was our last day together.

During the weekend, and especially today, he made great progress. He started out shy, uncertain, afraid he'd hurt me or that I didn't actually want it, unable to articulate what he was thinking and mostly unaware of his own feelings. And while I can't "fix" all this in a single weekend, I felt like he really came out of his shell. He got a lot better at expressing himself, and I think I managed to poke a few holes in his emotional defences as well.

But what did playing the bottom for a few days do to me?
It made me realise that I miss it.

It was bloody hard, and it felt terribly strange, just lying there and being touched. I couldn't give anything back, I couldn't do anything to him. On the other hand, I could see how much he enjoyed it. And seeing/feeling/hearing that people are turned on, turns me on. So we ended up in a really good loop of sexual desire. Also, I got really turned on by the lack of control in itself. It scared the hell out of me, but it turns me on too.

And I really enjoy the position of teacher. Not only the power, although I'll admit that is a considerable part of it... But I also enjoy giving back to the BDSM community, but using my experiences and skills for the good of someone else. "Pay it forward", as they say. And I enjoy the trust it builds, the connection between two (or more) people.

Would I be a sub again? I don't know. Not right now, certainly. I've too many control issues, don't trust people enough, and it just feels to scary. And I'd need the right play partner for it.
But would I bottom again? Probably, yes. For the right guy, in the right circumstances. If the mood strikes me.

What about Swede?
I had fun. I hope I'll see him again sometime. I had a good time, it was interesting. I wouldn't mind bottoming for him again. There aren't any immediate plan to that end, but we'll see what happens...

Saturday, September 10, 2016

A Giant Status

The summer is over, fall has come. And with fall comes more volunteer work and preparations for next year's big volunteer event. Giant is the head of the entire project this year, and I've agreed to work for him. Work with him.

I need to take stock and try to figure out how I feel about that. About him.

I wrote in the Giant Summary that I learned that it's possible for me to juggle three men. However, that takes a lot of dedication, and willingness to cooperate, and compromise, from all parties involved. I was feeling resentful and bitter towards Giant for not being willing to dedicate himself to me. Not in the same way that I was willing to dedicate myself to him. I wanted to make it work. I wanted to make us all work, even with the new girl. He didn't, and that made me feel hurt and angry.

I couldn't understand: If he loved me as much as he said... As much as I loved him... Why wasn't he willing to do as much for me as I was for him?

I still don't "get" that, but I've grown to accept that this is how it is.

And I've realised it's for the best. We would have made terrible romantic partners. Our communication just wasn't working properly. We kept mis-communicating, arguing, misunderstanding and getting angry at eachother over... Nothing. In the end, I started recognizing a pattern of communications that I haven't seen since the boyfriend I had before I met T (when I was 19). Giant was never loud or violent or dangerous, I feel certain he'd never physically hurt me... But we were falling into the same patterns that I've seen before. Maybe I'm just not a match with some people? Not sure why or how or who's fault it is. Probably a bit of both.

However, I'm still convinced that we'd make pretty great sexual partners. Whether it would just be ropes (fully clothed), or it would involve pegging, or domination, or just the vanilla sex stuff (like oral), or most likely a bit of everything... We'd rock at it. Sexually, we work really, really well together. As long as we both mostly shut up and don't think too much. Don't speak too much. The sexual stuff was awesome, and could probably be awesome again.

However, I don't think I could do that. Not now, when I've just started to accept that I can't be in a relationship with him. Why? Because I love my subs. Every. Single. One.

Some I just love for the minutes or hours of play. The intensity of the connection, or even just being able to gift someone new with a good experience. I love them, and want the best for them. It's so fleeting, it's almost gone before it's arrived. But it's still love, of sorts.

Some I love for weeks, or months. Like Tight, or Corvus, and even War (though he was never a sub, just a lover). Eventually, the feeling of love passes. Passions decline, the connection disappears, and love is gone. Only fondness remains.

And some, like Saint, I love for years and years. Like I love T (though he's certainly not a sub).

I could love Giant for months, maybe years. That's what it feels like right now. I don't know when that will pass. I don't know how to make it pass. And because this is so raw, so new, so strong, I don't think I should get sexually involved with him now. I don't want to fan the flames, because I'm not certain that I'd be content with just a sexual relationship. Despite my better judgement, I might want something more than that. And as we've already established, that's not a good idea.

I don't think about him every day anymore. More like every week. My life is still filled by memories of him. Practical things.. I'm still occasionally listening to his playlist on Spotify. He was the last one logged into Netflix on my laptop. I see his posts on Facebook. I see her posts. It's incredible how many memories and connections can be formed in under ten weeks of dating. I haven't actually seen him in real life since he dumped me.

I still occasionally think about sucking his cock. Of running my hands over his chest and shoulders. Lifting my gaze, making him yield to me with just a look. Of pushing into him with a strap-on, staring down at his face. I miss his body, his reactions, his face when he's turned on, the feeling of his hair through my fingers. I miss the sexual stuff. I don't really miss the rest, because those good memories got clouded by arguments and lies. But the sexual stuff... That feels like it's worth missing.

Despite my better judgement, I'd probably come running if he crooked his finger at me.
So how do I feel about working with him again? Scared, mostly.

Scared because I still love him, and wish I didn't. Scared because he has this power over me, when I wish he didn't. Scared because I don't wish to hurt anyone... Not the new girl. Not him. Not Saint. Not T. Scared because I don't feel in control of myself. I hate not being in control.

I'm scared because I expect that we'll keep misunderstanding each other, and not know how to work it out. I can't fix that, and I doubt he can either. Despite both of us making valid attempts.

Will it all work out in the end?
Probably.

We'll probably act really professional around each other. Put on the mask of "co-workers", maybe even the mask of "friends". We're both professional enough in this job to make it work, we know what needs to be done.

I just feel scared. And I miss him.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Workshops, from both sides

This fall will be full of learning experiences, and I'll both be teacher and student.

It starts off in about a week. I've been asked to hold a one-evening long workshop in basic rope bondage for a BDSM organisation in a neighbouring town. I'm flattered to be asked, and more than a little nervous. I've never viewed myself as any kind of expert in rope bondage.

Of course, an expert isn't what they want. They want someone to teach them the basics. And so I've agreed to do the workshop, as that's something I think I can do.

A BDSM youth organisation (for people ages 16 to 30) has also asked if I would do a similar workshop for them. I've not agreed yet, as I want to wait and see how the first workshop will go. But assuming the first one goes well, I'll probably agree to do the same workshop for them as well.

Back in 2014, T and I held a lecture on aftercare at a BDSM conference. Since then, T has been to several cities and held the same lecture for smaller groups. So it's been more of a workshop/discussion kind of format.

Now, we've been asked to hold the same lecture/workshop here in our local BDSM club. And this time, we're doing it together again. This time, the aftercare lecture will be coupled with a lecture about pain. So T and I have been working together to make the new lecture as well.

It's fun to work with him on these projects, as we have such different approaches to BDSM in general and pain specifically. I'm a sadist. I enjoy hurting people. He's a service top and to a degree a dominant. He likes doing stuff that the other person likes. This means I'm much more inclined to push on the sub's boundaries, to show them that they can take more than they thought they could. To laugh at their pain. To revel in it. T is such a good guy... So while he is willing to hurt people, he's always doing it for them. Not for himself. That's the fundamental difference, I think. And I think both those perspectives are useful in a lecture on pain. (I'd probably come off as too scary for the newbies, if T wasn't there to temper the impression. )

On the learning side, I've signed up to participate in two fabulous bondage workshops this October. One about the "rope interview" and how to communicate through rope. The other on floor work, spontaneous bondage and basic suspension. There's a limited number of spots, and I don't know if I get in yet. But I hope I do.

For the first workshop, I'll be going with Saint. I'm so looking forward to spending a whole evening with him in ropes. I want us to learn and to grow together. Amsterdam was really good for us, and I want to build on that.

For the second workshop, Saint wasn't able to go. So I made my first ever add on Fetlife, where I announced that I was searching for a rope bunny for this specific workshop. I'd expected to be flooded with bullshit replies, but to my surprise I wasn't. Maybe because I'd been so specific in my add about the kind of person I was looking for.. Maybe because I wasn't looking for a sexual partner or anything long term, just a bunny for the workshop.. I don't know. I got a couple of replies that were terribly written, and where I still don't understand what the message was, but that was about it. The remaining small handful of replies were thoughtful and nice.

In the end, there was only one candidate that seemed a good enough match. Last Sunday we met up for the first time, to chat and potentially do some bondage if the mood was right. He turned out to be a quiet, nervous 45 year old (for reference, I'm 30). He had quite a bit of bondage experience, but very little experience as a sub. And he was obviously craving to let the sub out. I tied his hands, quickly put them behind his head, and tied a rope around his chest. His reaction was immediate, spontaneous and obviously submissive, and I couldn't help but respond with more dominance.

However, dominance wasn't the deal. It wasn't what I'd planned, and it wasn't what we'd agreed. So I backed off. He was obviously craving more, asking for more, and in doing more bondage he also got a bit more dominance on the side. But I didn't try to keep up the tension, I didn't make it into a session, I kept backing off. Kept letting him back "up" mentally, kept talking to him as an equal.

Still, he kept submitting to me at the slightest touch of the ropes. I don't think he even understood what he was doing, what signals he kept sending out. He couldn't help himself. And when someone is so obviously a sub, and you have them tied up, and they're responding so clearly and strongly, not moving forward is really hard. Still, I think I managed fairly well.

In the end, he was ecstatic. He kept thanking me, saying that I had a way with the ropes unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. I explained to him that for me this was no big deal. So while this might have a deep and personal effect on him, he shouldn't expect the same from me. I was also VERY clear that we would be partners at the workshop, and only that. I didn't want to hurt him, and I didn't want to get involved with him.

He said he understood. As a sub, I think he was like a man stranded in the desert. He'd take any sip of water, no matter how little, and be grateful for it. Sure, he's craving more. But I don't have any more to give. I'm looking forward to tying him up during the workshop, but that will be learning. Not play. And he knows that.

Hopefully, there won't be any hard feelings or drama after this. I think I've been clear enough.

Saturday, July 9, 2016

An exhibitionist's dream (Showboat part 3)

I'm an exhibitionist. The idea that someone gets turned on by watching me, turns me on. The idea that someone I don't know, and who don't know me, sees me and gets turned on by me, turns me on. The idea that someone might accidentally see me in a sexual setting, and get turned on by it, turns me on.

It's my oldest kink. I remember realizing that I was an exhibitionist when I was 13 years old. I was at a nudist beach in Oslo with my mum, and an older man (probably in his 60ies) lay down uncomfortable close to us on the beach. He lay sideways, watching us. Watching me. And his dick was semi-hard. He wasn't touching himself, not doing or saying anything inappropriate, just watching. Being turned on by me.

I knew I should be grossed out by it, or scared, but I wasn't. I got horney too. Back home, I did an internet search on the phenomenon and found my label: Exhibitionist. That summer, I took several long walks in the forests around my home.. Wearing short skirts and no panties, laying down in semi-secluded spots and masturbating. Imagining that someone was watching me from the bushes.

Since then, I haven't done much to scratch my exhibitionistic side. Sure, T and I had sex once in front of people, at a cabin trip with a group of BDSMers. It was kind of clunky and didn't work out as well as it could have. It was fun to have done it, but like most things it works better in my fantasies than in real life. Sure, I've walked around without underwear sometimes, and I've played topless at our BDSM club several times. I've had sex in the water at a beach once.. But most such situations don't really work as well in real life as they do in my mind. Or they don't work at all, because they feel practical and not sexy. Also, I don't want to put unknown people in uncomfortable situations. Random people usually don't expect, or want, to see other people naked and touching each other. I also struggle to orgasm if I can see or hear people I don't trust or know really well. That also puts quite a damper on my exhibitionist side. 

Saint has fingered me once or twice, sitting on the floor in a rather secluded spot in our BDSM club. People could see us, but most don't even notice we're there. That has scratched my exhibitionist itch, sure. It turns me on relentlessly, but the people walking back and forth, talking and laughing, are a distraction. I can't orgasm in such a setting, I just get really horny and frustrated. 

Anyway, last night at Showboat... Everything just worked.

After we'd finished with our session, we went back upstairs for some cuddling and aftercare. We found a secluded spot, a huge empty couch in a dark corner. From this spot, I could still see most of the dance floor, one of the staircases from the basement, and one of the smoking rooms. They weren't that many meters off. But the dance music was loud, so I couldn't really hear anyone not inches from my face. We were clearly visible to others, but not really obvious. Not in-your-face.

We sat talking and cuddling for a while, and then I took Saint's hand and placed it on my crotch. He started stroking and petting me, through my pants and panties. I grew more and more turned on, while I was watching people walking and talking just a few meters away. I removed my pants and pulled my panties aside, and he kept stroking me. (I'm on my period, so no unplanned fingering at this time of the month.)

Eventually, I couldn't stand it anymore. I removed the panties as well, and started touching myself. Now, I usually never orgasm without the aid of a vibrator, but I know that I can do it. I just do it very rarely, in fact so rarely that Saint has never experienced it. The primary reason is that it's both easier and better with a vibrator than without one. But I still know it's possible.

I started rubbing my clit, alternating between having my eyes closed to shut all the people out, and having them open to see all the people. (Yeah, I know, I'm confusing.) 

Like I said, we were in a rather dark area off to the side, but we were still visible. At least a couple of people noticed what I was up to, but they just smiled and passed us by. I was glad for the respect they showed us, by not remaining there or interfering in any way.. No one acted sleazy or stood staring..

Though..  I wouldn't have minded if they stood staring at me, their dick in hand. (As long as they kept a respectful distance and didn't speak or otherwise interrupt me.) As an exhibitionist, the thought that my body or my actions can turn other people on, is part of the turn-on.

So I lay there, touching myself. And I came. In a room full of people, in full view, I orgasmed. Writing about it now, again I'm soaking wet. It was an exhibitionist's dream come true, or at least my dream come true. 

I enjoyed our time at the Showboat. It was a great party and a lovely, intense play session with Saint. But what truly made my night.. Was this. Masturbating myself to orgasm, in full view of other party goers. 

Earlier today, when I had the hotel's jacuzzi to myself, I masturbated again while thinking about last night. A few other people were in the swimming pool and sauna nearby. Anyone could have walked by and seen me, and it would have been awkward and not sexy at all. But I still came, right there. Thinking about last night.

And now, the moment I press "publish" on this post, I will have Saint finger me. And I will orgasm again.

I think this is the single hottest thing I've done in years.

Tie and tease, with latex (Showboat part 2)

Saint and I played twice while we were at Showboat, doing basically the same thing both times. Saint was dressed in a latex body suit covering him from mid thigh to neck (like shorts and a t-shirt, only connected and made of latex). He also wore a full latex hood, with holes for eyes and mouth. (Around his neck was his collar, and I led him around on a leash.) Being a latex fetishist, this was really a dream night for him. I also wore my long latex gown, which he bought for me about a year ago. 

Both times we played, I layed him on his back on a padded bench. I blindfolded him and put a ball gag in his mouth. Already at this point, he was drifting into sub mode. Calm, submissive and horny. I attached his arms and legs to the bench, using some of it's numerous attachment points. Then I started to tie down the rest of his body, using rope. At this point, I had to interrupt our first session, because Saint really wanted to catch the fetish show that would go on at midnight. Once that was over, we went back and started again. 

Both the sessions, this one couple kept watching us. I made sure I stood so that they could clearly see what I did. I enjoy teaching, after all, and don't mind showing off a little. We spoke to them a bit afterwards. He was fairly experienced, a switch who craved to be the sub. She was completely inexperienced, but curious and willing to learn. I explained a fair bit about us and our dynamic. We spoke with them at length after all our playing was done, and they ended up driving us back to Amsterdam. Which saved us 60+ euros on taxi. Very fortunate, and very nice people.

But back to the next play session: 
Saint's legs were spread apart and tied down to the bench. Ropes running across his stomach. His chest and arms tied down to the bench, so tight he could barely lift his head. Gaged. Blindfolded. Covered from mid thigh to the top of his head in latex. Yeah, he was a happy latex- and bondage fetishist, all right.

I then proceeded to tease him, spank him, tickle him, pinch him and stroke him. I used the new crop/tawse on his inner thighs, as well as several other spanking implements. I pinched his nipples, through the latex. I threatened to hit the groin area. I did hit it a few times too, though not as hard as I pretended I would. I spoke to him, asking him to fight against the bondage and really feel how helpless he was. I reminded him that people were watching us. 

I carefully unzipped the latex suit... Just the zipper in the groin area. I let his dick and balls out into open air. The rest of him was still wrapped, hugged, covered in latex. I sucked on his dick and stroked his balls, while alternating between hurting his thighs and stimulating his nipples. I love giving a combination of pleasure and pain like that. It's a real mind fuck.

I then removed the blindfold. He was still gagged. Once his vision had cleared, I carefully and slowly let globs of my spit dribble onto his face. It ran into his eyes and down into the corners of his mouth. My spit worked itself into his mouth, because he was lying on his back, and he had to struggle to swallow while still gagged. He felt humiliated and small and dirty. He knew people were watching us, seeing his humiliation. Seeing his body tied down, his dick hanging out, his face being spat upon. And it turned him on like nothing else I'd done that night! 

It was not only the humiliation, or so he told me afterwards, but the exhibitionism. So says the man who used to hate playing in public. And who didn't like humiliation at all. Who still hates public play and humiliation, to some extent. (I blame the latex. He must have been drunk on it. High. Or something.)

Afterwards, I loosened the bonds, removed the gag and he just lay there. Drifting in subspace. I'd removed my gown, as I was soaked through, and just as he started coming back I lay the latex gown over his face. Getting a face full of latex made him drift again. After a few minutes, he begged me to use the latex gown for breath play. 

I enjoy breath play, and know it turns him on too, so I willingly did as he asked. He started petting his own nipples, and begged to be allowed to masturbate. His dick was rock hard. I told him "no". I wasn't interested in his orgasm, and even if he only edged he'd still leak cum and precum all over himself. I didn't want him to soil himself and his surroundings, not our first time at this club. So even though he kept on begging, I told him "no". I held his head down, one hand pinching his nose, the other one pressing the latex over his mouth and forcing it closed. He used both hands on his nipples, while his hips were rising from the table. He was so horny, he was dry-humping thin air. And yet, I told him "no".

After we'd done as much breath play as I felt like doing, I told him to stop touching himself entirely. And then he just lay there again. Drifting. I was in charge, and I told him we were done.

BDSM / fetish party at Showboat (part 1)

After booking our stay in Amsterdam, Saint did some research and discovered that a large kink event was taking place just that weekend. It's a large, well known BDSM/fetish party that takes place approximately once per month. It's very popular, but luckily we sent emails with some questions a few months before, and managed to get reservations. It takes place a 25 minute drive from the center of Amsterdam, on a large house boat called Showboat. (The rest of the month, the boat is used by a swingers' club.)

We had been advised to come early, so we did. After getting changed and stowing our things into our own private lockers, one of the dungeon monitors gave us a tour. The rules seemed to be mostly the same as in our local BDSM club in Oslo: Clean up after yourself, ask before touching anything/anyone, accept "no" for an answer, keep a respectable distance when people play, and generally don't be an ass.

The major difference between Amsterdam and Oslo was the scale. Showboat is a huge venue! On the ground floor, there was a reception area, toilets, a spacious bar, a large dancefloor, an area for a buffet to be laid out, a kitchen(staff only), two smoking rooms, space allocated for a small kink shop, and several huge, soft couches and other seating areas. There was a DJ the entire night, and dance music was playing loud enough that you had to really speak up to hear each other. The complimentary buffet served both cold cuts, warm food (the paella was really nice), and fruits. At midnight the music stopped for a while, because the dance floor was occupied by a short fetish/bdsm show. The bar and dance floor was fairly well lit with multicolored lights, but there were plenty of dark corners in the seating areas.

In the basement, there were two locker rooms and a "powder room" with mirrors and good lighting so you could get ready for the party. The number on your locker, was also the number on your bar tab. Meaning we didn't need to carry around any money, we just settled our tab at the end of the night. Very practical. There was also the private dungeon of the party hostess, open for anyone to use. That dungeon alone was a bit bigger than the communal play area at our local club in Oslo. It had clear restrictions: Only people playing could enter the dungeon itself. If you only wanted to watch, you needed to stay on the outside and look through barred "windows" in the walls. Also, this dungeon was the only place in Showboat with a clear "no sex"-policy. Everywhere else people were free to do as they pleased, though our guide emphasized that they didn't want the same atmosphere at the BDSM party as you get at a swingers' club (which is much the same as at our local club).

In the basement, there was also two other communal areas for play, both slightly larger than that first dungeon. One was well lit and filled with four padded benches (one with gynecologist style leg rests). This area was close to the showers (not for shy people, they were communal and with only three closed walls), and contained a needle box for those who wanted to do needle play. The second large play area was more dimly lit, soft music in the background. It contained a sex swing, low trusses for rope suspensions, several whipping posts and crosses, and a couch. There was also several smaller playrooms (maybe 4 or 5) with doors that could be closed. Some could be locked from the inside, some could not. You could see into the "private" rooms through small windows, meaning you were never truly private.

We got a really good impression from this party. There were "only" about 180-200 people present, which felt like a fairly thin crowd for such a large venue. (Other people commented upon this being a very slow night, probably because of the summer holidays.) Also, a lot of people started to leave already around 1am, which felt early to me. The bar wouldn't close until 3am, and the basement area not until 4am.

I think it can be hard to come to this party as a single person, maybe especially as a single man. It's not a munch where everyone are chatting, it's a party and I think you can easily feel lonely in such a setting. It was also significantly more expensive for single man than for women or couples. Probably to maintain a semblance of gender balance. While there was no rule against same sex couples, almost all couples I could see were straight. And while there was a surprisingly good gender balance, and surprisingly many dominant women, still the majority was the typical dom man+sub woman. I also didn't see many young people there. The youngest were around 30 years old (like me), with the majority being over 40. So not great diversity over all. Luckily, this wasn't a problem for us personally. We had enough with each other, and just soaking in the atmosphere.

So despite these things, Saint and I had a blast. The other guests were really friendly, and surprisingly easy to talk to. The staff (both dungeon monitors and others) was really nice and welcoming, always ready to answer questions or help out in any way they could. The party has a strict fetish dresscode, which I'm actually quite happy about. It creates a certain atmosphere. People's outfits were amazing, and the aircondition made wearing full latex bearable. The facilities were fantastic. After a long night playing in latex I was soaked with sweat, so taking a shower before changing into a lighter fetish outfit felt divine.

I also really enjoyed the respect people showed for each others' playing. They kept a good distance from us, didn't interrupt or intrude. And when I got involved with something more overtly sexual (more on that exhibitionist's dream in another blog post), people glanced over, smiled, and kept on walking. No one stood and staring at us. (Of course, being an exhibitionist I wouldn't have minded if they'd stood staring at me, with their dick in their hand... But it's the general attitude I'm trying to convey here, not my personal preferences.) People weren't sleazy or disruptive. We all just reveled in each other's kink and tried to enable everyone to have a good time. And we did.

So yeah: BDSM/fetish party at Showboat in Amsterdam. Definitely something I'd recommend!

Guide to BDSM / fetish shopping in Amsterdam

Saint and I are on vacation in Amsterdam. A really lovely city, that has managed to combine old historic buildings with modern architecture and design. Saint has been here several times before, but it's my first time. And I love it here. Walking along the canals. Shopping. Exploring the narrow side streets. Really a wonderful city, even if you don't come here for the alcohol/drugs/partying, like so many tourists do.

We've been here for three days, and so far all we've done is eat, sleep, and go to sex/kink/fetish-stores. No museums (except for the sex museum on our very first day here), no tourist attractions. Just kink-shopping. (Last night we went to a BDSM / fetish party, but that warrants a blog entry of it's own.) Here's a short overview of the various stores we've been to:

The first day, we found a kind of cheap looking BDSM/sex store on a corner at the start of the Red Light District. Not sure what it was called, and he's the only one who didn't recommend any other stores to us. The store had a very good selection of strap-on harnesses, and encouraged us to takes things out of their boxes. The owner even let me try the harnesses on (outside of my clothing, ofcourse), which was very helpful. I'm a larger sized woman, so not everything fits me. After trying on 5 different harnesses, I settled on one that had everything I was looking for: Synthetic materials (not leather), looking neat (nothing pink or fluffy), detachable dildo, changable sized ring, and most importantly: Jock strap style fastenings (not g-string).

Saint and I took it for a test that same night, and we agree it works very well. Now I just want a bigger dildo for it.

I've also bought myself a latex top and a latex g-string (yes, all of a sudden I'm buying my own latex! When did that happen?!?). The string was from a random sex store, and was really cheap. The top was not cheap, but it was SO worth it. It's from a fantastic latex store called Demask, where we got really amazing service. Saint and I spent over 2,5 hours in that store, and I think between us we tried on almost everything close to our sizes. Saint did some latex shopping in Norway right before we left for the holiday, and together with the items from Demask, he's finally got a nice latex outfit or two. He's such a fetishist.

I've also bought a new crop/tawse which stings like hell (Saint loves it). It's from Smart, a store where they make their own leather goods. It was the woman at Demask who recommended Smart to us. Again, great service and a nice chat with the store owner. They have some smart ideas for collapsable spreader bars and adjustable floggers, so we might have to go back there and buy more stuff.

The owner of Smart recommended ROB and Mr.B to us, two BDSM stores mainly focused on men and men's wear. Both these stores had really great quality, and offered to custom make items if we wanted different sizes or looks. We're considering going back to ROB to buy something, because the quality of the leatherwork was really nice, but haven't bought anything yet. At Mr. B, I bought a wrist wallet in this style, approximately. Very handy! Saint also bought some stuff.

Beforehand, I'd been looking at the webshop of Mr. S Leather, and emailed them asking if they had any stores in Europe. They told us about a store in Amsterdam called Underground fetish, that sell their goods. Saint bought some wonderful leather cuffs at this place, having first to go back to Mr. B to get a refund on the cuffs he'd bought earlier that day. Again, amazing service from both stores: Refunds for money (not store credit) usually isn't done in the Netherlands, so Mr. B really helped us out. And while waiting for Saint to come back, the owner of Underground fetish made me tea and chatted with me. Nice fellow.

In every store, we've been searching for more latex clothing for Saint, but everywhere except Demask the largest size has been an extra large (XL). They can all custom make items, but don't have it in stock. Mr. B told us of another kink store called Black Body that specialize in latex for men. They were a bit outside the city center, so we gave them a call: They didn't have any latex larger than XL either, and so we haven't been to their store yet. If you fit into "normal" sizes, I'm sure they're also worth a visit. (I'm a bit disappointed in the general selection of fetish clothing available for larger people, but I expect it's the same everywhere else too.)

So it's been a few busy, sexy days. Amsterdam has impressed me with it's diversity and quality in fetish / kink / bdsm items. The service has been great, most of the stores are within walking distance of each other, and most they speak well of their competitors. If you have a weekend in Amsterdam, I suggest checking out some (or all) of these stores.

Thursday, June 30, 2016

Giant summary

I was looking through my large number of blog posts from these past few months. And I decided: I'm doing a summary of my experiences with Giant. For myself, and for posterity.

It began here, on the 14th of April. The rest of April was a flurry of play and activity and exploration. Lots of NRE.  Lots of play. If anyone wants to read just the sexy bits, April 2016 is the right place to go.
In the middle of May we had our first fight, and I started to get an idea of how vast our communication issues might be. But we still had some play, though I also struggled with my depression a bit.
Around the 10th-11th of June, he told me that he'd lied to me, and that he lies to everyone else as well. He promised me time to get over it, time for him to earn back my trust.
The 16th of June, he told me that he loved me. The next ten days was taken up by stress, work, and fights. Mostly.
On the 25th of June, he started flirting with the new girl (or really, she started flirting with him). I found it hard, but gave them all the support I could.
And today, on the 30th of June, our relationship is over.

Slight de-railing here:
He's turning to her now, giving her 100%. I don't envy her the pressure, or the expectations. To be the cause for someone else's break-up, must feel really painful... But what if the two of them don't work out? What if their relationship to ends too, when so much has been sacrificed and so much pain has been caused to start it.. I would feel terrible, if I was somehow part of that! I don't envy her this position at all.

Though... Maybe these serial monogamists handle it better than I would...? They seem to do those sorts of things all the time: Overlapping, dumping people they care about to be with someone else, cheating, killing their emotions to stay with the relationship they have, lying... It all seems so complicated. So difficult. (Much like what monogamous people say when I explain about polyamory. Haha.) What do I know of the ways of monogamy, anyway? I feel like I outgrew all that drama years ago. I feel like I'm 19 years old again. My ex just dumped me to be with a new girl, whom I'd permitted him to date in the first place. (Oh wait, that actually happened. When I was 19 years old.)

Getting back on track: It's been two and a half intense, exciting, demanding, difficult, joyful months. I'll never look at water melon in quite the same way again. I've (at least partially) overcome my aversion to having my ass played with. I've learned some new bondage techniques, and gotten interested in suspension again. I've bought more rope. I've learned that it IS possible to juggle three men. It just takes a lot of dedication, from all parties involved. But it is possible.

I'm grateful for what we've had. I'm also grateful that he came clean and told me that he wanted to end it, rather than to let me figure out that something was wrong on my own. He didn't do it until he had someone better to turn to, which I'm still kind of bitter about. But at least he was honest. And he doesn't want us to end on bad terms. That's something.

Hopefully, this will not be the last entry tagget "Giant". Hopefully, something else can rise from the ashes. We'll just have to wait and see. He's holding all the cards, so it's up to him. I'm willing.