What to Wear (Part II)

Have i ever mentioned that i don’t much like to shop?  i like buying things, but going from place to place, trying stuff on, all that… i can live without it.    After a while, i completely lose all judgement, and i either like everything or don’t like anything.   Sometimes, i think i’m missing part of a female gene that would make this process easier. 

Tell me to organize a potluck at my house for 30 people, and i won’t bat an eye.  Even – send me shopping for something that i might want to wear sometime to go somewhere, and i’m probably all good.    But a classy slut dress?  Omigod. 

i went to a couple of stores today, but unless i want to look like i’m going to prom, there was nothing.  So here’s what i have so far:

 

Um, this is a dress. It's black, and the design is mostly grey and white, with some purple.

 

The dress is actually shaped the way the one Sir – and youall – liked was, and it’s a silky material.  i think it looks better with my body in it.  Maybe.  The bottom looks funny cause I pinned it – it needs to be shortened.   The neckline is not very scooped out, so i don’t know what jewelry i’d wear with it…  maybe just my slutty earrings.



Ok, skirt and one possible top. The skirt is spandex-y and short

There’s a bunch of other tops i could wear with the skirt, including a grey v-neck t-shirt type top with a black sweater-jacket type top over it, or a grey and black shawl over it, or a black chemise with something over it, or several other possibilities.

So, i don’t know.  i think i’ll maybe stop somewhere else on the way home tomorrow.  And maybe the next day.  And the next day…  But at some point, i’ve got to decide so i can shorten stuff if i need to.

It’s funny.  In a way, this is kind of fun and exciting, or it was at the beginning.  Now, i mostly just feel incompetent – and i HATE feeling incompetent.  Could i organize a fundraiser instead, please?  Maybe do some crisis counseling?

Ok, i need to stop it.  Breathe.  It’s gonna be ok.  This is not a life or death situation.  Well, not really.  Maybe kind of.   

{Laughing}

Ok, it’s not.  i can do this. 

It’s a gorgeous fall day.  It’s Halloween.  i’m going for a walk, and then i’ll have a salad for dinner, and give out candy. 

If you have opinions on my selections, by all means share.  Just be gentle, right?  Thanks!

Wash your balls?

i saw this  wash your balls video on facebook last night – shared it and asked people (mostly kidding)  if it was a real commercial.  i almost never watch tv, and when i do, i’m often amazed by what’s on there and how much it’s changed since the mid-90’s.  Among my fb friends, a few people claimed to have actually seen this on tv, which cracked me up.

i think it’s clearly a BDSM commercial, so of course i wanted to show it to youall!  Just click on the “wash your balls” link and it should take you to YouTube.  i hope you enjoy it – and let me know what you think, and if you’ve seen it on “real” tv.

IRL, i’m still shopping for something to wear next weekend.  i actually bought a couple of things on Saturday, which can be taken back if i find something better.  i may post some pictures later today and look for opinions…  (That’s pretty funny all by itself, isn’t it?)

In the meantime, i need to go exercise and get ready for church… 

Happy Halloween, and/or Blessed Samhain!

 

 

Appreciation

There are things i do for my Sir that He appreciates – appreciate meaning “to be aware of” and “to place a high value on,”  more so than “to be grateful.”    And sometimes He tells me, “This is a gift – this thing you’re doing.”  Of course, my little submissive heart just swells with joy when He says that. 

But He doesn’t think submission itself is a gift. 

i know this is a greatly debated point, and that people will argue passionately one way or the other.  That’s not where i’m going with this.  i agree with Him because – for me, submissiveness is a trait, a way that i am.  Almost like – don’t laugh – like being an artist.  (Ok, you can laugh.)

But seriously.  Just because i’m an artist, doesn’t mean you’re going to like my art work.   Just because i’m submissive doesn’t mean you’re going to want me to submit to you.  Does that make sense? 

At the same time, there is value in being an artist, regardless of whether or not you care for my particular style of art.  And there is value in being submissive.   We can call it a gift. 

i think any time we open our selves to each other it is a gift. 

Fifth Angel, the sadist, tells the story about a time he pushed his submissive to do something in a workshop he was leading.  She did, despite great emotional distress, and grew through the process, despite the pain.  At the end of the workshop, she was surrounded by well-wishers and supporters, congratulating her on her courage and strength.

No one congratulated Fifth Angel, or recognized his contribution to what she’d done.

He points this out just a little bit petulantly – the “what about me?” in his voice almost amuses me.   Big, bad Dom, serious sadist, looking for appreciation.  But –

We tend to think of submissives and slaves as “giving.”   Giving service, giving obedience, giving of our selves.   Does that mean Dominants and Masters are “takers?”    How would that work? Can it be an endless cycle of us giving and them taking?   

Of course not.  As i write this, it seems so obvious.  It can’t be a one way flow.  

i think – it’s a circuit.  Like electricity.  If you have a flow of electic power, that’s great, but it has to flow into something, it has to be received for the light bulb to go on.  

It takes a battery and a bulb...

 

In the same way, all this “giving” that we submissives want to do has to be received somewhere.   Someone has to be aware of it and value it, or we’re left lonesome and unfullfilled, longing to give more.

So the “receiving” the Dominant does is a gift in itself, the complement of giving.  Even if we call it “taking,” it’s still a gift, the other half of  the equation.   It’s not a passive thing.  They actively receive – accept – are aware of and value – what we have to give.  So when Sir says to me, “This thing you’re doing is a gift,” the circuit is complete.  My light bulb goes on.  {Laughing} So to speak…

AND –

Dominants also give of themselves.  They aren’t just receptors of submissive gifts.  You know, when i say it that way, it’s just obvious, isn’t it?  Of course they give of themselves too. 

When Sir D binds me with rope, or sets me on fire, those are such amazing skills that it’s clearly “gift.”  His talent and the abilities He’s developed are showcased.    And it’s a circuit too.  His gifts also need to be actively received.  i can do that by telling Him how much i like the experience.  i also do it (i think) by being present to Him in the moment. 

Hmmm.  i meant “present” as in “there,” “at hand,” “available,” not like in “gift.”  Interesting though, isn’t it?  The words we use.  Because being present – in the moment – to someone is also gift.  And when Sir and i play in public, we are each present to the other.

But, back to Dom’s – even beyond the ropes and fires and flash, Sir D’s dominance is gift.    Not just His willingness to be aware of me and my needs.  His self-awareness – because without that, how would He know what He wants from me?   His own – i don’t want to sound too dramatic, but it’s true – His own honesty and integrity, His strength and compassion, His self-discipline and self-control  – you know, all of those things – make Him someone i can trust myself to.

AND –

If i’m not actively aware of that, if i’m not “receiving” too, then the lightbulb’s not going on. 

So.  {Smiles}  i’m never sure where i’m going til i get there – but here i am.

Dear Sir,

i am aware of You – just as i want to be seen, i see You.  And i value You. 

Thank you,

aisha

What to wear…

i’m getting excited about meeting Mick and Molly and going to the munch and play party together.    Starting to prep today – just  a hair cut, but still.  Tomorrow, i’m going shopping for something to wear.  Sir suggested i get a dress, something short and snug – “less flowing than your usual style” was how He put it.  “Almost slutty, but with a little class.”

Yikes. 

Classy slut.  There’s a challenge.  Particularly for an old hippie in her mid-fifties.   

However.  i can do that – i think.  Short may be a challenge, being short myself, but there’s still time to get it shortened before next weekend, if i need to. 

i googled “dress short and snug” and came up with these ideas:

 

 

 

 

This one was titled "Sweet Therapy" which i thought made it appropriate, but really, i probably don't want spaghetti straps...

 

This one was maybe a better choice:

 

i like the cut and the fact that it has sleeves, seeing that it’s November…

 

But that’s not really so helpful since those are available on line and i think it’s too late for that kind of shopping.   i will probably have to try on about 30 dresses before i find one that works.  Maybe more than that…

 Sigh.

 However – here’s an option from a real store near me: 

 

 

The way it's made in the front might work better for me...

 

That one might distract from the fact that i don’t actually have a model-like body anymore…

 Ok, enough of that, right?  This isn’t actually the shopping network blog.  (Although i’m totally open to suggestions or opinions…)

In any case, what i wear is not the focus of the weekend, right?  i’m really excited about about the munch and play party.  Not jaded enough yet for it to be commonplace.  And meeting Mick and Molly live – omgosh! 

Imagine – there they are – Molly all gorgeous and flashy in leather and boots (at least that’s how i imagine her) and Mick, distinguished and dapper.  And Sir D and me.  i’m wearing this perfect dress i found really cheap, thigh high stockings, and cfm shoes.  So there we are – having dinner at a vanilla restaurant, just like any couple of couples out on the town.  Only  –

They know that before the night’s over, i may be taking my clothes off in public.   i may be publicly bound, set on fire, or flogged.  And –

i know that, under his clothes, Mick’s wearing the symbol of his submission… Da Da Da Dum… the cage. 

The secret is part of the thrill, isn’t it? 

And then the unmasking.   The exposure.   Ahhhhh…

 

 

The Ordinary

Last night was an “ordinary” night, although an unusual one for us.  Sir got here right after i got home from work.  i was delighted that He was here, of course, and also relieved that i hadn’t had to work late. 

We hug – and He grasps my hair the way He always does, twisting his hand into it at the base of my neck.  Ahhhhh.  Im sure He knows – my pussy immediately clenches and gets wet, my knees are weak.  It’s a signal – a reminder of TTWD.  And every time He does it, i slip an inch or so into submission.

We sit in the living room, talking.  i am sitting at His feet. 

We don’t talk about anything deep or intense.   My day.  His day.  The upcoming play party.  i tell Him that Molly is wondering what to wear.  “What does a domme wear to a play party?” i ask, and He makes some suggestions.  (Mick, we’ll talk…)

Ordinary.  When we get hungry, we decide where to go for dinner.    

Sushi.  Yum. 

“Would you pour me some tea, please,” He says. 

“Of course.”  And He watches me, as i carefully pick up the pot and His cup.  Fill the cup.  And i look at Him as i set the cup down – no one else would know, could possibly know, the pleasure i take in pouring Him some tea.  

We order way too much food – but who’dda known they would have huge portions?   And we talk, and laugh, and share the sushi bites.  He uses chopsticks expertly.  i don’t.  i ask for a fork.   

When we leave – with our go-boxes – i have an extra set of chopsticks to practice with at home.

He lets me take His shoes and socks off.  i rub His feet as we talk.  i don’t know why, it’s easier to talk to Him while i’m doing that.  i guess the intimacy of touch just makes it easier to be open.

We talk about the lifestyle and service.  He gives examples from stories of people he knows, i share some stories from different blogs.  Like any couple, talking about couples we know.

And after a while, He needs to check his e-mail, and i check mine, and we do separate things for a little bit.

Then He lies down in bed.  i brush my teeth and wash up and get undressed.  i join Him under the covers.  And He reaches for me…

******************************************

Later, satisfied and content, i curl up behind Him to go to sleep.

“There is no language of the holy. The sacred lies in the ordinary.”

~~Deng Ming-Dao

Going Nowhere

‘Nilla wrote a comment on my last post about being blindfolded when she’s with her Sir.   Being the gifted writer that she is, the comment was as good as a whole blog post.  Combined with her last actual blog post, it got me thinking about my early pre-kink-experience days.

One fantasy i used to have – the only fantasy i can remember having that wasn’t a BDSM kind of tale with me as submissive – involved seducing a blind man into his first sexual experience.  i was maybe 19 or 20 when i developed that one.  It was probably as close to Domme as my fantasies have come.   i would guide him through the whole experience – apparently he’d never “seen”  a woman before, so there was lots of exploration.   And teaching.

i’d teach him how to touch me to make me cum.  Explain how women’s bodies worked.  i’d tease him, sucking his cock til he was on the verge, then stop.  It was a lovely fantasy.  i don’t know why i quit having it. 

Sigh.  It makes me smile to remember that. 

{BTW, this isn’t a focused post; i don’t think it’s going anywhere.} 

Sir is going to spend the night tonight, and i suspect that is warding off subdrop.  Generally, once i get through writing about what ever experience i’ve had with Him, i slip off the edge of the cliff.  Knowing that i’ll see Him tonight has been a nice barrier for the drop.

And ususally if i were seeing Him, i’d have been on orgasm restricition, and all excited about the upcoming event.   But this time is more mundane – He needs to be in town,  He’s going to spend the night, but we both have to work in the morning.  And i may have to work late tonight.  We may just be the proverbial ships passing in the night… 

{Smiles}

On the other hand, it is awfully nice to think about seeing Him at all.    i like being with Him, being around Him.  i hope i don’t have to work late, it would be nice to have dinner together.  Doesn’t have to be anything fancy – we don’t have to go out.   Just sharing food and conversation would be nice.  Just a normal kind of night.

So i need to go now – go exercise, go shower,  go get ready for another exciting day.   Looking forward to all the things ahead of me, and enjoying the ones i have right now.

i’ll try to do a more purposeful post tomorrow!

 

 

Rope (Part III)

It would have been ok if the adventure had stopped there – my first suspension – with all the excitement and pleasure of that.  Lying on the blanket He had laid on the floor, smiling.  But instead…

He looks down at me for a moment.  As i start to struggle to my feet, He puts His hands on my shoulders to steady me and guide me.  i need the help, my arms are still pinned behind my back.  

He grins at me.  “How was that?” He says, soft and low.

“O!”  i can’t stop smiling.  “O, it was – fabulous!”

“You want to try another one?  A different suspension?”

 

“O!” i feel like that’s all i can say, “O, yes!”

 

“I’ll do a hip halter this time,” He says.  “This might be a little more comfortable.”  So He is spinning rope around me again, and around me again, wrapping me.  

 

i am still attached to the pulley, so it doesn’t take long to be ready.  And i am so buzzed anyhow, the rush running through me, that time no longer exists.  It is all Him. His hands.   His voice.

 

And He does – these things – with the ropes, and then my leg is raised, just the left leg, and it’s a little awkward, but not too uncomfortable.  He says,”It’s all up to you now, you just shift your balance, lean back when you’re ready…”

 

So i do, i lean back.   And amazingly – it’s a lot like this:

 

 

 

Like lying back in a rope chair, except i'm the chair...

And it’s surprisingly comfortable.  Only one leg is actually suspended, but i lift the other leg, cross my legs, and i can swing myself back and forth.  i even spin a little.

And the excitement, the thrill is sooo strong, not so startling this time, and i have more control, but  i’m laughing again, and Sir D is watching me, enjoying what He’s done…

And then in a little bit, i begin to get tired, and He realizes it and lets me down.  He begins to unwrap me…

 

Reversing the process, starting at my hips, then my ankle, my thigh.  Working His way over my body, releasing me.  Toying with the rope, snaking it over my body. 

 

i can tell already, the rope marks are clear, leaving a pattern design where they pressed on my body.

 

And He is watching me, watching my face, watching my body respond to Him.  Pulling the rope…

 

And finally, finally at the very end, He unties my arms.  And for a moment, i think i’m so stiff it will hurt to move them, and it does, but just for a second.  And then they’re fine.

 

And He’s holding me, hugging me close, and i’m happy

              

                        and content

 

                                        and tired

 

and then He lets go and starts to unfasten the rope pulleys He’s made.  And i start to get dressed, but i stumble, and He says, “Do you need to sit down?” and i can only nod.  “Sit here,” He says, pointing to the blanket He has laid on the ground. 

 

So i do, i sit right there.  And i’m suddenly very cold, so i pull the blanket up around me, curling up on myself while he takes the rope down.  Sir hands me some water, and i drink.  And then a piece of candy, which makes me smile.

 

Then, when He’s through with the rope,  He cuddles me just a little, and helps me up. He leads me to a quiet alcove nearby.  With the blanket half draped around me, half trailing me, i follow Him. 

 

And we are still enjoying the moment, savoring the connection.  i’m floating, buzzing, happily drifting, and i think He is too, in a Dom-space kind of way.

 

Finally, when some people move into the area next to us, preparing for a flogging scene, i begin to move again.  i get myself dressed, and give up my blanket. 

 

Sigh.

 

i loved it. 

 

Thank You, Sir.

 

Can we do it again?



 

 

 

 

Rope (Part II)

So i’m kneeling, watching Sir D attach rope to the suspension frame.  The other people, other activities in the room begin to fade.  i’m focused completely on him.

“Get up,” He says, “and take your top off.”

He helps me to my feet – takes my hand, and grasps my hair firmly, pulling  me up.  i tremble, almost stumble, but there is a railing around the play space, i catch my balance, reach for the rail.  He releases me.

i barely think about it now, getting naked in front of these people, and it doesn’t matter anyhow.  i take off my jacket, drape it across the railing.  Pull my top over my head.  Standing there in my bra, it takes me a minute to turn the top right side out, watching Sir is distracting.  Finally, i get it done; i  fold it and lay it on the rail too.

He glances at me.  “Your boots and your jeans,” He says.  i wonder if He can tell i’m in that space where waiting for His direction seems like the only thing to do. 

i unzip my boots, the cute ones with the laces in the back.  Slip them off.

When i dressed for the evening, we’d decided i should wear my fishnet thigh highs under the skinny jeans, just for this purpose.  Now, as i peel the jeans off, the stockings are revealed.  i pull the jeans straight, lay them across the railing.

He glances at me.  “The bra too,” He says, sounding a little surprised.   i reach behind me, unhook the bra.  Slide the straps down my shoulders, and place it on the railing.

i know that it’s cool in the room, i was comfortable with all my clothes on.  But i’m not cold now – or if i am, i don’t know it.  i’m waiting for Sir D to tell me what to do next.

“Ok, stand here,” He says, moving me to the space directly under the suspension ring.  “i want your arms behind your back this time, like that morning at the hotel, when i was practicing the tie on you.”

i put my arms behind my back, bent at the elbows, each hand grasping the other arm.   i move my grasp as close to the elbow as i can, and “I want you comfortable,” He says, “Make sure it’s comfortable, and there’s a little room,” He takes my arms and pulls them away from my body a little.  

“Ok, that’s good,” He says.

And He begins.  Tying my arms first, securing them behind me.  

Then, wrapping the rope around me from behind, around my upper chest, so i am pulled into Him each time He reaches in front of me.   Round and round…  wrapped like a package.  Leaning into Him when i can,  feeling the softness of His shirt against my shoulders.   Feeling His breath on my neck as he wraps me.

Mmmmm.

And i lose track of time, and i can’t tell you the sequences of what He does.  i am securely wrapped around the chest, and under my breasts, lifting my breasts.  And He bends down, kneels Himself, as He spins the rope around my thigh, just my left thigh. 

Puts a knee up, has me put my foot on his leg, on his upper thigh, as He kneels to wrap my ankle.  He is with me, talking sometimes, but always focused on me, and i on Him.   The rope connects us, and the energy hums between us.

Then He is standing again, standing in front of me.  He pulls ropes through the clips on the suspension ring, attaching ropes that are attached to me, creating pulleys.  And then – 

– i am leaning sideways, He’s tightened a rope so that i’m leaning sideways, pulled off balance, and  –

          – for just a second, i’m afraid im going to lose my balance, going to fall, and then –  

                    – i realize that i can’t actually fall – i’m attached to the ropes that create the pulley, and –

                              – i do fall, off balance, and my left leg goes up as my chest goes down, 

                                        – and i’m hanging, completely off the ground –

                                                  – sideways for a minute, gasping in shock – 

                                                               O! O, my! and laughing and Sir D is laughing and then –

                                                                      -i’m upside down – yes, head down, leg up,

                                                                                       Omigods and goddesses!

But just for a minute or two, i’m so shocked and laughing and loving it, and He’s pleased too, and then He lets me down, slowly, using the rope pulley,-

                            – lowering me down

                                                                     – and down.

                                                                                             Til i’m laying on the ground, on my side,

                                                                                                                          still smiling…

Rope (Part I)

i’m at home again, after going to Sir D’s and the classes, munch, and play party where He lives.  Tried to take a nap.  But i become aware of my body tingling.  i don’t quite know why, but it’s nice, and it’s energizing.  i can’t possibly sleep. 

i guess it’s a buzz.  i am still buzzing.  Not surprising.

Yesterday.

O, my.

i can’t write about it either, not coherently. 

Classes – dungeon safety, and edge play.  i know more about being safe.  More about being not safe.

Munch – food, conversation, great stories.  i wish i could share stories, but they’re not mine to share.  Sir D makes the statement that we agree is the Dom quote of the day:

“It’s just easier to do it my way.”

{Laughing}  Yes, no doubt.  i can attest to that.

Play Party –  O.   Um.  Whew.

There was rope. 

And me. 

And Sir.

i’ll tell the first part. 

We talk about doing an “impact play” scene or a rope scene – i don’t care which we do.  Either one would be lovely.  Sir decides to do rope.

He decides to do a partial suspension.  One leg on the ground, one leg suspended.  That’s  fine with me.

So we’re at the party.  There is a structure for suspension.  Another couple uses it first; we watch and wait.

They are finished.  Sir D goes to the structure – it is up in the front of the room, a little bit lit up.  Not exactly on stage, but kind of.  The frame is kind of  like a swing set frame.  Sir puts a ring on the hook in the middle – like a huge key ring, but much sturdier.

The suspension ring is used for suspending someone using rope, by suspending the ring from somewhere else. Additional rope or lengths of rope then suspend the person from the ring.

.

He puts his weight on it to test it.

The ring has a number of metal, narrow, triangular pieces dangling from it.  i can’t find a picture of what they look like – sorry.

Anyhow.  He attaches the ring to the bolt already set in the wooden structure, and tests the weight, and then He gestures to me, “Come here,”

So of course i do.  i am  already in that head space of heightened awareness of my own body. 

“Bring both my bags up here, please,” He says.

i’m glad to do it.   i go back to our table to get them, and return carrying the one bag over my shoulder, the other is a little suitcase on wheels.  i pull it behind me.  i even remember, when i get to Sir, to push the button on the handle so i can push the handle back in – my first instinct is always just to push hard on it, cause that’s how mine works.

He opens the case, the bag.  Then looks at me, i’m just standing there, watching.  Waiting.

“Kneel,” He says.

i catch my breath – really?  here? O, yes, of course really, and why not here – i don’t think i even ask it aloud.

i kneel.  In the front of the room, in front of everyone.  But i kneel for Him. 

He has my attention.  My complete attention.

*********************************************************************

i think i’ll try again to nap.  i’m sure i’ll be back soon to finish the story….

 

 

Power

 i’ve been thinking about power lately, power in the vanilla world.  I just accepted a promotion at work, a couple of steps up the supervisory career ladder, which gives me a bunch of responsiblity.  Not much new power, for real.  But a ton of new responsibility.   And a position of power. 

Sigh.

i’m ok with that.  i’d been steadily turning the offer down for a couple of years now, for a bunch of reasons, but now is the right time to accept it.  True confessions – any job i have, i end up with some degree of authority.  Whether it’s official or not.  Having a position of power is ok with me.  

What does that mean for me as a submissive woman? 

i’ve read about submissive women who find having power uncomfortable.  As if “being in power” is stepping way outside of her comfort zone, almost an unnatural state for her.   So submission to her Dom or Master is a welcome relief; it allows her to be her “true self.” 

Youall already know that i’m not very good at splitting myself.  That i’m all about being integrated.  A real me/not real me dynamic doesn’t work so well  for me.   Although –

– submission is always a relief.    “Letting go of my self.”  “Putting myself in His hands.”  Just the words turn me on.  

i think “Submission” allows me to expresses a different aspect of myself.

And i need both for balance.  i can’t be a tiny, shrinking violet kind of person, because – i’m not.  i’m not loud and pushy either.  i’m often quiet and i may seem shy, meek and mild even, at first.  But i’m not.  i’m just not.  If i  try to make myself that, i lose who i am, and it doesn’t work anyhow.  

So i need both aspects of my self:  the “me” that has authority and accepts power, and the “me” that gives up the power and authority and submits joyfully to Sir.  i wonder – if one half of the equation gets stronger, does  the other one grow to match it? 

Am i better able to accept the power because of my submission to Sir D?   Will having a position of  power in my work life increase my ability to submit?  My need to submit?  My desire to submit?  Will i have more to offer, in some psychic energy kind of way? 

i think that’s part of the image i have.   Like scales:

 

As i gain power, i have more power to give, and more power to give up.  My submissiveness grows too; i have a deeper submission to offer.  Not necessarily deeper than anyone else’s – just deeper than mine was before. 

So i’ll kneel, palms resting on my thighs.  Smiling slightly, head tilted just a bit.  Waiting for permission.  Wanting to serve. Wanting to please.  Having more to offer, i’ll offer it.