Rambling

As you may know, the title of my last post was Darkness & Light.  So imagine my surprise when i pulled up my vanilla facebook page yesterday and saw, posted next to my friend Jeanne’s icon, the words “blog” and “Darkness and Light.”  My heart stopped.   Outed?  Omigosh, NO!  

Then – that’s ok – no one could know it’s me.

Then – wait – why would she post my kinky blog on her fb page?  O, wait  –

– No – SHE wrote a blog piece called Darkness and Light too, and posted it today!  Whew!

And i wanted to call her:  “Hey, you won’t believe what just happened…  talk about great minds…”  O, wait – no, bad idea.  Can’t do that.

So i’m telling you all instead.  Wasn’t that amazing – that we each posted blog pieces with the exact same title?  Hers was about finding light in the midst of some darkness in her own life.  Very cool.  So, in her honor, here’s a quote on darkness and  light: 

“I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.”   Og Mandino

 Last night, Sir D told me that He’ll have time to spend with me, not this weekend (which i already knew) but NEXT weekend, which i didn’t necessarily expect.  So i’m doing a little happy dance in my head.   i’ll actually be on call that weekend for work, but hopefully that won’t interfere with our time together.

This is really not a kinky sex blog so far today, is it?   i think i’ll go walk and see if any great kinky stuff comes to mind…

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Sometimes, the kink is in my heart.  It  starts with a tug there.  That moment of connectedness when i believe that – against all odds – He will see me as i am.  See my passion, my strength, my weakness.  My curiousity and excitement.  That He’ll see my need, my desire and longing.

When i believe that He’ll want me as i am.  Not in some nice, vanilla way, but in that naked-to-the-core lust that strips away pretense, tosses it to the floor with my open crotch pantyhose, and snatches me up.   That He’ll contain me, hold me, possess me.

Not forever – you know, no happily-ever-after dances in my head.    But for now.  Bind me with ropes, mark me with His mouth.    Make me shiver,  push me into one more over the top, not-to-be-denied orgasm, and fall, tumbling down, trembling into His arms again.

Hold me safe, unafraid to kneel, free to worship His cock, to recognize and pay homage to the wonder of masculine power, symbolically stroking it, even as my mouth sucks and licks His…  mmmmm.  

Recognize the soul connection, feel our spirits join together in the intensity, the pleasure and the pain. 

i want all that. 

And then- always more – i want Him to help me put my Self back together, so i don’t wander, only half myself, until i see Him again.

Darkness and light

“Pain, when pushed and endured long enough, brings to the surface the uninhibited, raw soul of human beings. When two people can experience this together, it is like meeting on another plane.” –FifthAngel

One of the workshops i went to at the BDSM event involved inflicting pain and pleasure through pressure points.  Yikes.  The presenter was the incredibly sexy sadist, who i’ve quoted before.  He used volunteers in the class.  On a mat, in the middle of the circle of chairs in the room –

 He asks for volunteers.  Ten or so young women eagerly raise a hand.  He scans the audience, scans and – points.  You. 

The lucky young woman comes up.  Eager,nervous, on the verge of giggles.  But not for long.  He takes her hand, and in less than a second –

-she gasps, and falls to her knees. 

Seriously.  It is dramatic.  And obviously painful – for her.   As He continues the demonstration,  fewer people raise their hands to volunteer.  He has predicted this too – the drop off in willing victims.

He demonstrates some pleasure points from time to time.  It’s fascinating to watch his model shift from barely restrained moans, clenched teeth, body taut and strained,  to utterly relaxed,  a purr of contentment heard throughout the room – in a moment.   But that is not his focus.   He is all about the pain.

Watching it is – odd.   Even though i know better, the urge to stop pain is deeply engrained in most of us.  We’re taught in all kinds of ways that life should be pain-free, so watching someone experience real pain – NOT an o-ouch-isn’t this fun? kind of pain – is just odd.   i’m used to doing it with emotional pain – i watch my clients suffer all the time.  But physical is different for me. 

Although.   i think about the clients i know who hurt themselves physically in response to emotional pain.  It blurs the line.  Lots of people are horrified by that – and some teenagers call it “being emo” and embrace it.   Have websites and chat rooms where they can talk about it.   i know a lot about this type of seeking out pain.  i know some ways that it’s different  from what i watched at the workshop, and some ways it isn’t. 

i think about initiation ceremonies, which involve some kind of pain.  And the range – from sailors who used to get tatoos to mark their first sea voyage to genital mutilation.  Tatoos are part of our culture now, no shock there anymore.  And genital piercings – not such a big deal.  Not to mention circumcision, which is pretty much taken for granted.   (Side note on circumcision – a study showed that babies who underwent circumcision as part of a religious ceremony cried for a shorter time and less intensely than babies who underwent the procedure in the hospital.  They speculate that the difference is in being surrounded by people who love and care for you.  Isn’t that cool?)

We don’t mind other people’s pain too much, but we avoid our own.  Advertisements for medication – selling magic pills – and my clients come in certain that Pill X,  Y,or Z can fix whatever’s bothering them.  Even if it’s an abusive boyfriend, an out of control child, lack of money, housing, or love – surely there’s a pill that can make it better.  (ooh, i didn’t know that rant was coming… sorry.)

i know that my clients who’ve experienced trauma – childhood sexual abuse, rape – want to avoid the memories, avoid feeling the emotional pain.  Of course they do.  When i tell them they need to remember, to come to terms with it, to process it, they look at me like i’m insane.  “WHY?” they ask.   “Why would i want to remember that?”

I sympthize with them.  Sigh.  It sounds crazy, what i’m telling them, i know that.  But i know, if they can’t feel the pain, they can’t feel pleasure either.   Emotionally numb, lives caught up in trying to avoid pain, and still the pain hangs on.  That’s what drives them to see me, what eventually, maybe, pushes them into the healing journey.

Embracing the pain is powerful.  That’s the message of initiation rites.  We subs know that too,  whether we’re masochists or not.   If there’s no pain, no discomfort, how do we know He’s in control?   Could there be subspace without pain?  Subspace without subdrop?

Submit:  To yield or surrender (oneself) to the will or authority of another.   {Laughing}  Just reading the dictionary definition starts to make me hot.   Submission is about doing some things i might not really want to do.  The idea thrills.  Accepting pain, whether it’s spanking or orgasm denial or pressure points, is an easy way to show i mean it. 

Last night, Sir suggested that he might require me to wear my open stockings to a vanilla event – pantyless, of course.  It made me squirm immediately.    Would i do it?  Of course i would.  {blush}  In a heartbeat.   And it makes me squirm right now.

Last night, i went to a lecture.  i knew some of the people there, i was interested in the topic, and it all lived up to my expectations.  About halfway through, i looked around the audience, and i got this tremendous rush of love and pleasure.   The shared experience, sense of community, and feelings of connectedness were deep and powerful.  Big waves of joy flowing through me. 

i believe the joy and the pain are linked.

Like pieces of a puzzle – some parts i understand a little.  The actual pain of trauma.  Survival.  Numbness.  The pain of memories.  The pain inflicted by a sadist on a masochist.  Pleasure.  Endorphins kicking in.  Self-harm.  Submission.  Acceptance.   Joy.  i may not know exactly how they fit together.  i may be missing some pieces – how do  Doms and sadists fit into the picture?  What does their piece look like?  But i know it all goes together.  It creates a harmony.

“Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.”  Kahlil Gibran

i don’t understand it, but i know it’s true.  And the pain is linked to the joy.  i can’t claim one without the other. 

Namaste.

Stocking Study

If you’ve been reading my “comments” section,  you know that Mick and Nilla have been discussing the picture of what i called “crotchless pantyhose.”  Mick challenged Nilla’s assertion that she hadn’t seen any before “IRL” {laughing} and even provided  the link to a picture of his wife wearing some.  (Lovely stockings they were, too, Mick.) 

Nilla – always the astute observer – notes that the “loop” on mine seems to be larger than on Mick’s lovely Mistress.  And, yes, she is sooo right.  The ones i’m wearing don’t have a discreet little opening – they look like this:

They’re actually called open butt and open crotch pantyhose…

These are Serious Slut Stockings.  Note:  That’s not me in the picture.  

So, having straightened THAT out (and i hope you two – Mick and Nilla – have fun with this new information) – i have a zillion things to do this morning – and need to get to work early too.   Not enough hours in the day.

i’m feeling MUCH better this week, thank goodness.  In fact, i’m starting to just plain lust for my Sir.  Which feels good. 

i imagine kneeling in front of Him, just observing His cock for a minute or two.  Tentatively touching it with my tongue.  Pressing my cheek to it before i begin to lick for real.  Warming it with my breath.  Taking the head of it in my mouth gently.  Grasping the base of the shaft, feeling the lovely contrast of soft skin and hard cock.  Mmmmm. 

Serving His cock.  Just the thought of it sends shivers through me.  His taste.  The feel of it in my mouth.   i feel my pussy heating up.  If i touch myself, i know there will be a pool of moisture,  just writing about it. 

i can almost feel His hand in my hair.  The signal that i’m His.  That hand fisted in my hair, twisting, sends the message to my mind, and directly to my pussy.  It makes me clench in pleasure, even while i’m gasping with the sudden shock.  Ohhhhh.  i miss that.

Dear Sir – i miss You, in the best possible way.   i look forward to seeing you again, and having the opportunity to please You.  sincerely, aisha

 

Quick – pleasant – thoughts

 

So here’s the thing – i may have gotten a little crazed.  After all, i had a whole weekend filled with sights, sounds and sensations i’ve never experienced before.    Which i’m still trying to fully process.  Followed by a weekend with none of that.  i’m thinking it wouldn’t be surprising if i bounced in and out of subdrop like – a yoyo. 

Being in that silent space, inside myself,  for a while was good, and that made me think i was through with the whole subdrop.  But i need to recognize, i may still not be completely through with it.   And that’s ok.  You know, i’m still kinda new to all this – it may take me a while to learn to move in and out of subspace, right?

i’ll probably write some more about all that sometime – but for now – forget it.  Sir D sent me the picture he took of me last Saturday.  Did i tell you?   i bought some great stockings from the vendors at the Event.  Two different pairs actually, but i’ve only worn one.  Anyhow – here they are.  In my cfm shoes, which are NOT the same ones i wore to my first play party. 

Wild, aren't they?

i’m going to think of them as a promise of good times to come….

More Thoughts on Punishment

i woke up about 3:00 this morning, still thinking about punishment.  And guilt.    i realized that i had intended to mention Sin’s post on punishment in my post last night, but hadn’t.  Yes, i really was lying awake at 3:15  thinking about how her thoughts had started mine, annoyed at myself for not mentioning it.

Which led me to thinking about other things i’ve done that i consider thoughtless.  i can feel bad about them even months later, even if i’m pretty sure that i’m the only person who noticed them.  It’s annoying, and a lingering remnant of the perfectionism that still stalks me.

{Case in point – i still feel bad because i did a post a while back that referenced other people’s blogs, and didn’t use  names or link them back to the blogs.   And i know that i LOVE it when my name pops up in one of their  blogs – why would i not do the same for them?  In my own defense, i thought the post was going to mix the stories up so they weren’t clearly Mick’s posts or Nilla’s or Sin’s and after i’d changed it and redone it about 10 times, i realized i could have attributed parts to each of them, but i didn’t have much time left, and it was in my period of borrowed computers, and i just didn’t.  i really don’t know if anyone thought twice about it, i’m betting if they did, they’ve forgiven me and are over it by now.  At least, i hope so.  And i am sorry – it was thoughtless of me…  There, now maybe i’ll let it go.  See what i’m saying?}

On the other hand, there are probably all kinds of things i’ve done that really have hurt or offended someone that i’m not even aware of.  So how do i sort that out?  It’s confusing.

i may do something without even thinking about you that has some kind of negative effect on you.  You may assume that i was thinking about you, and that i purposely chose to  ignore your feelings, or to stomp on your feelings.  If i hurt you, then am i guilty regardless of whether i meant to or not?  

We try to solve that question by weighing how serious the injury is, whether or not the offender should have known it would affect the injured party, and so on.   Accusations and protests abound.  “How was I supposed to know???” and “You should have known – how could you  NOT know???’  reverberates in the air.   This is the stuff the drama triangle is made of (but i won’t go into that today.)

i try not to do all that when i’m the injured person.   i try to “make the benign assumption.”  To assume the other person wasn’t actually trying to hurt me.  That they weren’t directing their behavior at me.  An e-mail unanswered, a text message unreturned – it’s too easy for me to assume that’s about me.   That the other person is mad at me, or rejecting me, or just doesn’t care.

At the same time, for sure, i was raised to know that not everything is about me.   My mother probably had 10 different ways of reminding me and my sister of that.   “The world does not revolve around you,” she’d say, “it revolves around little old women, picking up sticks in vacant lots.”  (T.S. Elliot)

So it’s tricky.  Sometimes it is about me – she is mad at me, he is rejecting me.  More often, they’re just not thinking about me.   “We spend the first two years of our life learning that the world revolves around us,” Mom would say, “and the rest of our lives learning that it doesn’t.”

Sigh.

Where am i going with this? 

That’s right.  Guilt and punishment waking me up at 3 a.m.

In the lifestyle – do we  try to negotiate that all out ahead of time?  Is that part of the rules and punishment thing?  But if “He” punishes me because His feelings are hurt, is that necessarily going to make any sense to me?  Wouldn’t that negate the value of my intentions and make it more about His mood?  Which is fine if that’s what we’ve agreed on, but i don’t quite understand it.   And that’s not my situation, so it doesn’t matter if i get it or not.

But it’s not always about intention either.   Let’s say you cut off my arm, accidentally, while swinging your machete around.  And you’re dreadfuly sorry, and you didn’t mean to.  But then you keep swinging the machete around me.  There’s not much point in arguing about whether or not you’re trying to cut off my other arm, i just need to get a safe distance away from you and stay there.   Right?

Sometimes, it’s hard to know how to weigh it all out.   i wonder if Doms and subs use different scales.  Maybe not.  i know it’s easier for me to forgive you than to forgive myself.   Easier to imagine you holding something against me than the other way around.  And – hear me clearly – i’m not sure that’s virtue.  i suspect it’s something to keep struggling against.

But it explains why, now that i think about it, my other template for a punishment fantasy would be appealing to me!   Listen to this –

i’m in the training school for subs, where they also teach Doms how to be Doms.  In this version of the fantasy,  punishment happens at the end of the day.  You – we – the subs – accumulate tokens for punishment. 

Any time i’m disobediant or don’t meet the standards, the person i’m serving can attach a small ring to my collar.  Each ring represents a certain number of ‘licks” and they accumulate throughout the day.  In the evening, there’s a gathering, a relaxation period for the teachers and the Doms in training.  Sometimes there are outside guests as well, who might be considering sending someone to the school, or who just come to enjoy the activities.

If i have been given tokens, i have to line up with the other girls to be punished.  We are wearing…

Ok, you can probably take it from there, if you want to.  Use a cross or a spanking bench or whatever you prefer.  Be sure to include the whole “i have to count and say ‘Thank You, Sir,'” thing.  Have it end with multitudes of orgasms and cock-sucking, possibly at the same time.  Whew.  Ok.  Now, here’s my point:

If they’re keeping track of all my infractions, then i don’t have to.  i don’t have to figure out what i’m guilty of or what i’m responsible for.  And if i get punished every day, and start over with a clean slate – woohooo.  How cool is that?  

And – gosh, i’m really slow sometimes – for some people in the lifestyle, it really is like that, isn’t it?  Not the tokens on your collar, lining up to get punished, though i guess that could happen too.  But handing over the responsibility for figuring it all out.  And…

…i guess that is what i want.   O, my.

But in a fairly contained way.  A really contained way.  Not around my work.  Or family.  Or friends.  Maybe just in the relationship?  And is that reasonable?    Possible?

O, i need to go think about this.  This might really be the TMI post.  Will y’all all be my analysts?  {Laughing} 

Thoughts on Punishment

In my fantasies, punishment was always part of it.  Corporal punishment usually, with some mild humiliation.   

One of those fantasies went like this:

i am living in a – training school.   Some of the people at the school are submissives or slaves; some of them are Dom/Dommes or Master/Mistresses.  (I’m going with Dom/submissive, but i recognize the variations, ok?)  Anyhow –

The teachers are teaching the Doms how to be Doms by having them practice on us.  So, for example, we might have a class in cock-sucking.  There would be a lecture component (very short and sketchy in my mind – ok, now that part’s over) followed by practice sessions.   If i didn’t perform well in the practice session (an unlikely scenario, but you know, fantasy’s a wonderful thing) – then there’d be a punishment.

Actually, it’s all kind of sketchy – the main point is that at some point, i get punished.  Sometimes, immediately, in the classroom.

“Come to the front of the class,” the teacher says.  

i don’t want to, but i know there’s no point protesting.  Slowly i walk forward.  i know some of the girls are feeling sorry for me, but i can feel the pleasure and excitement of the Doms in training.  

 “”Well,” the teacher says, “I’m surprised, you weren’t able to make Master John cum within the time limit.  Is that right?”  

i can only nod, “Yes, Sir.” 

“So- what do you think should happen when you fail to meet the standards?

i know what i have to say – i can barely get the words out, but i do – “i think – i think i should be punished, Sir.”

He nods.  “That’s right.  And what does that mean?”

i blush, “Sir, it means i need to raise my skirt and bend over the table so -” and my voice gets softer, “He can whip my ass…”

“So – what?” asks the teacher – “I don’t think the class could hear you.  No – wait – go ahead and raise your skirt so your ass is displayed to everyone, then tell us what needs to happen.”

Reluctantly, but obediantly, I tuck my skirt, which already barely covers my bare bottom, into the waist band, so that i’m totally exposed.  

“Now,” says the teacher, “You can tell the class, loudly enough that they can hear you in the back, what needs to happen next?”

“I need to -” trying to make sure I’m speaking loudly enough,  “I need to bend over and get my ass whipped.”

“Right!”  the teacher says.  “Master John, do you want the pleasure of punishing her yourself?”

Of course John does.  So he comes to the front of the room.   The teacher walks him through the next steps – he has me stand with my legs apart.  I’m already wearing ankle and wrist cuffs, and a collar.  My ankles are attached to rings in the floor.  There’s a narrow table in front of me – it’s below my waist in height and i have to bend over, exposing myself completely to the class behind me.   My wrists are attached to the table…

Master John notices that my pussy is wet.  He has the teacher’s stick, the one he uses to point at the board, in his hand.  

 

Using the stick, he  taps the inside of my thighs lightly, comments to the class on the slick wetness of my pussy.  With one hand, he rubs my clit, slides a finger inside me, making me gasp.  The class laughs.  He brings the stick down across my ass – hard.

Whew.

Ok, i’ll let your imagination take the scene from there, if you like.  Be aware that after the spanking, i’ll need lots of practice with John’s cock.   Usually, if i’m going through this scenario in my head, i’m touching myself, and by this point, i’ve probably already cum.  For my next fantasy, i may pick up where i left off this time…

But it’s a pretty mundane fantasy, i think.  Not one likely to occur in my real life – and not one i would want to happen.   

In real life, i’ve never been in a D/s situation with someone where they punished me for real.  i mean, i’ve experienced a little bit of  “funishment” where maybe He acted like He was going to punish me, and then spanked me, with a little drama attached, which (no big secret here) i kinda like.   But punishment for something i really did that He thought was wrong or that displeased Him – just hasn’t happened.

i don’t know that i’d be completely against it. 

i guess it would depend on what kind of things He was punishing me for, and what kind of punishments.  i’m innately a “rule-follower” – give me a rule, and i’ll do my very best to follow it, particularly if i’ve already agreed to it.  If i break the rule, i’m probably going to be pretty upset with myself anyhow.  i’m the kind of person who might be relieved with some punishment, if it led to full forgiveness.  But i’d be careful about what rules i agreed to.

And i like to think of myself as almost always wanting to please Sir D, but just the other day, there was a situation.  i was upset about something, and i started a conversation about it by being – i hate to say this- kind of bratty.  i didn’t mean to be, exactly.  But i was.  My feelings were hurt, and my insecurities were popping up, and i didn’t handle it well at first. 

i realized it after a few minutes, realized i was being petty, and stopped it.   And i won’t do it again, i don’t think, not in that area anyhow.   And i don’t think i deserve to be punished for reacting the way i did at first.  i can’t imagine how i’d feel if He said He was going to punish me for it.

But.

Here’s a twisted thought. 

i can carry some guilt for a long time.   Being Catholic, i used to kid around, I’d say, “I’ve just learned to go, ‘Guilty – check!'” making the check mark in the air –  you know.  “Guilt’s my life,” i’d say, “i do it really well,”  with a shrug, ” I just accept it and move on.”  

Looking back, it’s amazing some of the things i bought into feeling guilty about.   Just a wee bit over-responsible, i’ve been.

i think i’m kinder to myself these days.  i try to be.  But i can still carry a lot of guilt.

i think –

– that i never know where i’m going to end up when i start writing.  Does that happen to you all too?   And then you suddenly have to decide whether to go back and start deleting, or just change the subject … 

And have you all noticed that i’m feeling much better?   Less angst ridden, thank goodness.   And grateful for all the comments and off line support, even though i didn’t follow through with contacting youall like i thought i was going to.  i’ve stayed super busy today.

And this is silly.  i might as well finish my train of thought – cause it’s just a question, it’s not what is.

What would it feel like if Sir D did punish me for things i feel guilty about? 

i know He’s not into that, and i don’t think i am either.  But, just a little bit, i wonder… 

Silence

There is a silence in myself.  An emptiness.  The space inside me that had expanded, filled with joy and sensation, has imploded, collapsed in on itself.   It leaves me hollow.

This is as it should be.

i can fill it if i want to.   With my job, my volunteer work, my activities.  With reading, cleaning, and writing here.   With the support of my friends (some of whom are reading this.. .thank you.   Believe me, you’ll hear from me soon.) 

i can fill it with fantasy – sexual or not.  “What i’m going to do when i win the lottery” is almost as entrancing as “What i’d like to happen the next time i see Sir D” or “What i remember from every bdsm story i’ve ever read…”

But it’s ok to have a silent, empty space inside me.    If i can stay still, and hold the space, it’ll be filled again.  i am right where i need to be.  With my heart open to the universe, open to whatever pleasure, whatever joy, whatever pain the universe is ready to send me.

Namaste

Just for Fun

Don’t worry, it only seems kinky the first time.  ~Author Unknown

Another quote that didn’t make my facebook page…  Do youall think it’s true?  

i wonder sometimes if all  the excitement and thrill will eventually wear off.  I mean,  even purely vanilla sex is exciting at first, right?  That first kiss.   The first time some callow teenage boy’s hand slips under your shirt.  Whew.  Feeling his excitement and uncertainty, his confidence increasing as he manages to unhook your bra.  

i still remember sitting in a movie theatre making out – what a rush.  The first time i felt His hand brush my pussy, sliding over panties that were already wet from the 20 minutes he just spent playing with my nipples.  Ahhhhh.

The look on his face the first time i touched his skin, letting my hand trail over his chest.  And even better, that first moment when he realized that yes, i was really going to do that, put my mouth there – on his young, rock hard, pulsating cock!  It makes me smile now to remember.

Eventually, that all becomes mundane. We start looking for new ways to thrill and be thrilled.   Now i want floggers and yardsticks, hitachis and dildoes.  Going farther and farther into the shadows, exploring darkness, uncovering shining rays of light.

And maybe the basic desire is the same.  To be seen.  To be known.  To be accepted.  i don’t think that ever gets old.  It just doesn’t seem kinky anymore.

 

A Little Tired…

…and maybe a little down tonight.  With no good reason. 

i got a sweet text message from Sir today while i was at work.  Had a good day at work.  Nice dinner.   Went for a walk.  Have plans for tomorrow, and the rest of the weekend.   Already talked to Sir on the phone.   AND have another task.  Good grief, what more could i want?

i must be a little greedy!  Who’dda thought it?   It’s probably just because this is still all so new, right?   i’ll probably settle down eventually and not be nearly so – um, you know, rhymes with greedy – um, needy.

Ok, so i am needy.  i want Him.  i want His hands on me.  Twisting my nipples the way He does – pinching each one til they ache.   Making me moan.  Making me whimper.

Ok.  Sigh.  That’s not going to happen tonight.  But.  i do have a task, and i think i better go get started now.

{Smiles}

 

The Power of His “I Want”

“I want you to cum for me tonight.”  His voice is silk.  “Can you do that?”

O.  Yes.

{blush}

 “Can you do that for Me?”

“Yes,  Sir.  i can do that for You.”

{smiles}

 

 

 

 

Thank You, Sir!