24 ~ A Dash of Fantasy

“Right,” says Wendy.  “Let’s start with getting a baseline.”

Naomi, her feet strapped in the stirrups, leaning back in the big chair, can only moan.  Sara’s fingers are stroking her in such a lovely way, focusing on the hard, swollen nub of her clit, that she thinks she might cum any second.

“Go ahead and cum,” Sara says.  She rubs a few more times, while Naomi feels herself climbing still further up ~ up ~ and then, ” Cum now,” says Sara ~

~ and she does.  Falling over the top of the cliff, crying out in pleasure, trembling shaking moaning her way back down muscles unknotting juices running down her thighs and tears rolling down her cheeks.

Vaguely, Naomi thinks, i’ve never cum like that, never, omigod, omigod o mi god ~

~ but Sara is not through.  She continues to stroke Naomi, gently but persistently, and Naomi is beginning to squirm again.  Naomi thinks she has never been so turned on, and wonders if the dildo in her asshole is part of the reason.  Even though her pussy was empty while she came, the sensation of her asshole clenching around the dildo is amazing.  

“One minute and 35 seconds that first time,” says Wendy, and Sara nods.  “Of course, she was really worked up already.  Try the dildo this time.”

Naomi feels something between the lips of her pussy, sliding gently to settle at the front entrance.  It’s a large dildo, and it enters her gently, pressing, pressing, until she opens to it, whimpering.   Sara has quit stroking, but one finger remains on Naomi’s clit, as if holding her place.

The dildo slides in easily and Naomi is stretched and filled, caught between the dildo in her pussy and the dildo in her ass.  She has never experienced this before, and she responds with her hips, moving into the sensation, feeling herself begin to rise again.

“Yes,” Sara says, “That’s it, find your way, you can do it, you can cum again.”

But Naomi barely hears her, she is rising again, tension filling her in that wonderful way it does, her ass and thighs tightening, the dildo in her ass claiming her and the dildo in her pussy building sensation and the finger on her clit ~ and ~

“Go ahead,” Sara says, “Cum again when you’re ready, good girl, cum again,” and to her amazement ~

~ Naomi does, and this time she thinks her body will explode with the pleasure, as she cums, crying out, wordless cries of pleasure and delight as once again she trembles and shakes her way back down from the peak.

Wendy smiles, “Two and a half minutes,” she says.  “Nice job.  Keep going. See if you can find the g-spot with your fingers.”

The dildo in Naomi’s pussy is withdrawn, a gush of juice running out of her as well, leaving her pussy clenching, seeking the fullness, and her ass clenching, and she presses up with her hips, wanting more and more.

To her delight, there are fingers inside her, and she closes her eyes and moans, moving into the hand that probes deep inside her, Sara’s fingers exploring and pressing, finger fucking her deeply until ~ omigod, omigod, omigod ~  there ~ omigod ~ there ~

ahhhhhhhh ~~~

and it is not a huge, earth-shaking orgasm, it is like riding the waves, a gentle rise and fall so lovely, her pussy throbbing with pleasure, and she doesn’t notice Sara’s smile, or hear her say, “Bingo.”

“Two minutes!” says Wendy ~ “Keep going, don’t stop now.”  

And the fingers continue, pressing,  filling, omigod, again, and this time as she’s sliding over the peak, Sara says, “Cum, yes, that’s it, cum for us,” and she wiggles the dildo in Sara’s ass a bit, which increases the intensity just a bit, and Naomi thinks that if she died right now, she’d die happy.

“Two minutes, three seconds,” says Wendy.  “Wow.  Keep going, let’s add the nipple clamps.”

Naomi might have protested if she had not been so lost in a sea of pleasure. She feels the clamps going on, her nipples are already hard, and they hurt ~ oooooh, yes, of course they hurt, but Sara’s fingers are continuing to explore between her legs, and the pleasure so outweighs the pain that  Naomi barely whimpers.

O, and really, she thinks, it kind of feels good, at least it doesn’t feel bad, ooooooh, this is ~ and she is cumming again, while Sara croons to her, “Yes, that’s it, cum for us, cum now.”

“O my,” says Wendy, “Again?  That’s one minute, 45 seconds.  Wonderful.  Now stop.  That’s 10 minutes, and 5 orgasms.  Not bad.”

Quite suddenly, the fingers are withdrawn, the nipple clamps removed, leaving Naomi gasping, hips thrusting upwards, nipples tingling, wanting more, more, more, and “Don’t stop,” she says, “omigod, please, o, don’t stop.”

Wendy and Sara laugh, Wendy strokes the inside of Naomi’s thighs.  “O, don’t worry, we’re not done, not by a long shot.  We’re just through with that part of the program.” 

Fantasies of Rape and More

After my post yesterday, i got a comment from ‘Nilla that included this:

do you (and I say this knowing that you’ve had past trauma, so I’m just being flat-out nosey here, and hoping this isn’t a trigger of any kind)…have rape fantasies? That’s the one thing I keep coming back to as that “fantasy that I wish would just go away” and doesn’t. I dunno…maybe i”m weird…but the thing that gets me hot and stewy is the idea of being taken, used…not so much in a violent, knock ya down and fuck, but “this is what I’m gonna do…gonna get you all turned on against your will..t.hen fuck your brains out” kind of way.

That would be a kind of amended rape fantasy, right?

My friend, Jade, from The Chrysanthemum and The Sword came back with this in her comment:

@Nilla….i’m sure Aisha will point this out as well….but rape fantasy is incredibly normal. It makes sense that we would want to have a situation that allows for us to have the intensity of such an experience removed from the guilt our culture/religion tries to dump on us for not being “good/pure enough.” If it helps, i will share that i have been raped a few times in life mostly as a child, and occasionally have a fantasy that on the face of it is a rape fantasy. Real rape is, obviously, not what this is about. But who among us doesn’t crave full loss of control, at least at times? i liken it to the way that it is common for gays/lesbians to have sexual fantasies about straight sex and vice versa. It does not mean you really want that.

Jade’s right, of course.  Well said.

What i’ve read and heard suggests that rape fantasies allow us to enjoy sex without guilt.  To throw our inhibitions aside and really let go.  To give up control.

And if your rape fantasy includes the idea that he will “get you all turned on against your will..then fuck your brains out” ~ well, that makes me think of Clark Gable sweeping Scarlet up the stairs ~ one of the most romantic scenes i know.   i always imagined ~ once i was old enough to imagine what was happening upstairs ~ that it was very like the fantasy you describe.

i promise you, being raped is not like that.

People do sometimes get turned on when they’re being raped though.   Their bodies may begin to respond.  Some people take this to mean they “enjoyed it” in the sense of wanting it to happen.

This can be very confusing for the person who’s been raped.  They may think that they are complicit in the rape because their bodies responded.

i recently heard a story of the way one therapist addressed this with a woman she was working with, who had been raped as a young girl.  

The therapist brought an onion to the session.  Without any explanation, she asked the client to help her peel it.   The client thought it was a little odd, but of course she agreed.

As they peeled the onion, tears began to run down their cheeks.

“Look at us,” says the therapist, “Sitting here crying.  Why are we crying?  Do we want to cry?”

“No,” says the client.

“Does it mean we’re sad?” asks the therapist.

“No, of course not,” says the client.  “Oh, wait I get it!!”

“Yes,” says the therapist.  “Sometimes our bodies just respond and it doesn’t have anything to do with what we want or how we feel.”

The other thing about fantasy is that ~ it’s fantasy.  In a fantasy, who’s in control?  Not inside the fantasy, i mean, who’s directing the fantasy?

i am!  For sure.  If it takes a turn i really don’t like, i can go back and erase it.  Um, delete it.  i can redo it.

In many ways, the same thing is true with kink.  Because it’s consensual, the submissive or slave actually has the ultimate control.

Yes, we give up control.  The key word there is “give up.”  In order to give something up, you have to have it in the first place.

And really, that control can always be taken back.  If you’re truly in a BDSM situation, and not an abusive situation disguised as BDSM, then you always have the option of walking away, and often you have the option of negotiating changes.

So in a way, BDSM allows us to explore our fantasies.  Safely.  Rape fantasies, spanking fantasies, whatever fantasies may lurk in the corners of our mind.

But as Jade pointed out, just because we have a particular fantasy, doesn’t necessarily mean we want it to come true.  Story of O turned me on immensely, and gave me great fodder for fantasy, but i really did not want to live my whole life like that.

Um.

At least i don’t want the part where she has to wear the ring and go with anyone who’s also wearing the ring.   And i’ll take a pass on the getting branded scene.  Although it’s a hot scene…

Anyhow, i think that my own fantasies tell me something about myself.  My Dash of Fantasy with Naomi ~ i think it means more to me than just the sexual/kinky parts of it.  But i don’t know what yet…

Speaking of which, i guess i’d better get back to writing that or i won’t have a new Naomi post for tomorrow…

The Last Liebster Questions

Ancilla, from Slave to Master, gave me the Liebster Award.  Thank you, Ancilla!!  

i think of Ancilla as one the new generation of bloggers ~ she started blogging in August. She’s been married since 1993, but they just recently added kink to the relationship, which  fascinates me.  You can visit her blog here, 

Here are her questions:

1. When did you realize were “kinky”, if ever?  Well, the tendencies were there quite young, but i didn’t have a name for it that i could accept til about  8 or so years ago.

2. What is your favorite fantasy?  Um, see A Dash of Fantasy. At least, that’s my favorite for the moment.

3. What is the fantasy that you wish would get out of your head, but keeps coming back, if there is one?  i don’t think there is one.  i used to wish all my kinky fantasies would go away, but that was a long time ago.

4. Where do feel most at home?  Not to sound corny, but at home.  i’ve lived in the same house for a long time, and just in the last few years have made it reflect my self and grown to love it.  With Sir living here now, it’s really my perfect home.

5. What do you most want from the person you are with, whether that is a partner/Dom/sub/slave/Master?  To be seen ~ truly seen as i am ~ and loved.

6. Why do you write a blog?  i started out writing it because i discovered it was fun to write about the kinky things i was doing, then i discovered that it was helpful for me to write about what i was thinking and feeling.  Then i discovered the blogging community and the circle of support i have here.  It’s still all of those things ~ fun, helpful, and a community.  If it ever quits being that, i guess i’ll quit blogging.

7. What is your favorite TV show?  Um, L.A. Law?  i used to love that show.   It ran from 1986- 1994, and i quit watching TV in ’95, when we moved to this house.  i haven’t watched ~ except occasionally ~ since then.  

8. Favorite dessert?  O, ice cream.  Chocolate, chocolate chunk.  In a waffle cone.

9. Favorite time of day?  Early morning.  Even when i was a little kid, i’d get up long before anyone else, before dawn, and enjoyed it.  When my kids were little, it was my time to breathe.  And i made it through graduate school by doing a bunch of studying before anyone else was up.

10. Do you believe in God/ are you a spiritual person?   i don’t believe in the traditional, patriarchal image of God.  i’ve recently realized that i’m not Catholic any more, but  i am very spiritual.  i’m “seeking” these days to define and explore what i do believe.

That could be a whole blog post by itself.  Enough to say that i believe that “God is Love” is a good starting place. 

11. What is your favorite sexual position?  Missionary style ~ Him on top, but with my knees raised.  Simple but effective.

Great questions, Ancilla, and thanks again for the award!

While i’m blogging this morning anyhow, there’s something on my mind.  It’s one of those “do i really want to put this on the blog?” kind of things, and i debated it with myself for a bit.

i don’t know sometimes if my reticence is a sign that i shouldn’t talk about something, that it’s really too private, or if it means i need to look at my feelings around whatever-it-is.

But yeah, i’m gonna talk about it.  Here i go.

i have been thinking for a while that i wanted to be more connected to Sir in a kink way.  We are very connected in many ways, and. i wasn’t trying to solve a problem, just looking for ways to build what we have.

So i thought, hmmmm,  maybe i need to spend some time every day ~ a few moments, an hour, whatever ~ paying attention to His cock.

Or maybe not.

The idea would come back, and i’d push it away.   i’d think, no, that needs to be His idea.  i’d think, no, i don’t wanted to commit to that.   

You know, i have issues around this kind of “you have to” commitment.   Really, if it had been His idea, it might have freaked me out.

So i kept circling around it.  

Remember that book someone wrote recommending couples commit to having sex {with each other} every day for 30 days?   That seems contrived and the idea of having to have sex on a day i don’t want to kind of makes me sick at my stomach.

{Laughing…} i said i had issues, didn’t i?   Don’t ask me why that’s different from being always accessible to Sir.  i don’t know exactly, it just is.

Anyhow.  Despite that, the idea of adding a component of cock worship to my usual routine of sitting at His feet, and making sure we did it daily, kept coming back to me.

Monday, i approached Him with the idea.  A little worried.  You know, what if, what if, what if….

i wasn’t afraid He’d think i was topping from the bottom, i can tell him anything, suggest anything, if He doesn’t want it, He’ll say no.  

This kind of suggestion would have to come from me, it’s not the kind of thing He’s likely to think of.  He doesn’t spend time reading blogs, He’s more likely to be thinking about tethers and paddles and hands-on implements of kink.  So if it was going to happen, it had to come from me.

Once i’d really decided, it was surprisingly easy to do.

And um, maybe not surprisingly, He thought it was a lovely idea.   He was not against it at all.   {laughing…}

So we started last night, we’re going to try every day for 30 days and see what happens.  It doesn’t have to be a full-out, goal oriented thing, if you know what i mean, but at least some time spent in cock-worship.

And we’ll see how it goes…

23 ~ A Dash of Fantasy

“Well done,” says Anna.

At the sound of her voice, it all stops, as if a spell were broken.  The cock is withdrawn, caressing hands, spanking hands ~ Naomi is left bent over and exposed, held steady by Mark’s hand in her hair.

“Playtime’s over,” says Anna, laughing.  “Dry her off, and yourselves too.  Come on, we have things to do.  It’s 8:00, let’s get moving.”

I have been moving, Naomi thinks, but then she’s not thinking at all.  Warm, fluffy towels wrap around her, and she’s dried.  Briskly.  Whisked into a dressing room, where Wendy and Sara rub lotion on her, and then each other.

This is not a slow sensual lotion massage.  It’s all business now, lotion applied and ready for the next step.

Wendy and Sara have robes, Naomi is not surprised that she doesn’t.  Instead, there is Anna in the doorway, an odd shaped dildo in hand.    She moves toward Naomi.  Wendy and Sara have already taken her shoulders and bent her forward.

“Spread your ass cheeks,” Anna says, and Naomi blushes, she wishes she could drop through the floor, but she does as she’s told.  A hand on each cheek and she opens herself so Anna can ~

~ press the butt plug inside her.   There is lube on it, Naomi can tell, it slides in easily, but is a bit larger than the one the night before.  She sucks in air, exhales, trying to relax and accept this invasion.  

Once it’s in, Anna fastens the straps attached to it, bringing the front two around Naomi’s pussy to attach them to a thin belt at her waist, leaving that entrance easily accessible.   

It’s an uncomfortable feeling, very full, and Naomi wonders how long she’ll have to wear it.  She thinks that she’ll never get used to it.

Wendy and Sara replace the leather collar and cuffs, which they had removed before the shower.  

“Is she wet?” asks Anna, with a touch of laughter in her voice.  Naomi thinks that her dripping pussy is obvious, but Sara touches her, casually sliding fingers in her wetness.

“This slut’s cunt is very wet!” she says, grinning.  

Natalie’s body is hot, her face flushes, her pussy clenches.  Damn, she could cum just standing here.  

“Thirty minutes,” says Anna.  “Thirty minutes of orgasm training.   See if she needs to be shaved or waxed, and do that first if you need to.  But don’t take more than an hour, you two need to get to work.”

“You may use a ruler,” she goes on, “A dildo, and the rabbit, but not the Hitachi today.  See what you can do with that.  Nipple clamps if you like.  You two may speak freely, and take notes so we’ll have a baseline.”  And she leaves.

Wendy and Sara take Naomi next door, into another small room.  There’s a large chair with stirrups,  like a doctor’s table, at about the same height, with steps.   Sara helps her up into the chair, attaches the ankle cuffs so Naomi’s feet are securely held in the stirrups.

Sara moves the stirrups closer to the seat, effectively pushing Naomi’s knees farther back, spreading her thighs wider.   Then she pulls away the steps that Naomi had used to get up in the chair, leaving her open, fully exposed, and easily accessible. 

There’s a lamp next to the chair, Sara turns it on, shining the light directly between Naomi’s legs.  Naomi squirms with embarrassment.  There is a mirror above her head, and she can see herself opened like this each time she glances up.

In the meantime, Wendy has pulled some items out of the cabinet which runs the width of one side of the room.   At a glance, Naomi can see the ruler, a pad of paper and pen, the riding crop, although there are other items as well.  She looks away.  

“Inspection first,” says Wendy, picking up the pad.

Sara slowly rubs her thumb over Naomi’s pussy, the outside of it.  “She’s in pretty good shape,” she says.  “She must have just gotten waxed.  There might be a stray hair or two.  Let me have the tweezers, that should be adequate.”

Wendy hands her the tweezers, and  Naomi squirms, anticipating the pain.   Her hands flutter up, off the arms of the chair, as if she’s going to cover herself.  Sara glances at her, “Don’t,” she says.   “It doesn’t even hurt yet.  I don’t mind if you squirm later, but it doesn’t even hurt yet.  Breathe.”

It does hurt when she tweezes though, Naomi jerks as each tiny hair is ripped off.  At the first few, she wants to run away, make it stop, and Wendy comes over to her.  She strokes her hair, and then, when Naomi is still struggling, attaches her wrist cuffs to the arms of the chair.

Wendy picks up the ruler.  “Hang on a second,” she says, “Let me put this in perspective.”  Whack!  She brings the ruler down between Naomi’s leg, slapping her sensitive flesh.  Naomi cries out.  Her hips rise off the chair, which only opens her further and makes her ass hole clench, making her more aware of the butt plug securely held there.

Five times Wendy brings the ruler down, and by the fourth blow Naomi has moved into that space of acceptance.  She is no longer struggling.  

Wendy steps back.  “There,” she says to Sara, “See if she can tolerate the tweezing better now.”

Two ~ three times more, Sara finds and removes a hair.  It still hurts, but Naomi doesn’t move.

“Good girl,” says Sara.  “Much better.”  She  hands Wendy the tweezers, and begins stroking Naomi’s pussy again.  This time it’s a sensual caress, and Naomi moans with pleasure.    Sara’s fingers explore between her lips, finding the hard nub, touching it lightly.

Naomi moans.

“Start timing,” says Sara, glancing at Wendy.

 

Third Time’s the Charm

This is the third post i’ve started today.  And it’s almost 6:00 ~ almost time to hit “publish.”  But i don’t have the next Fantasy piece done, and the one i started to do today doesn’t feel like where i need to be, so here i am.

Babbling.

i went to the Fourth Sunday munch last night.  Ms. Constance and Drew weren’t there, so it was a bit different experience than usual.  Fun, though.  

i talked to some different people ~ Kenny, for one, who has a practically endless supply of amusing stories, mostly about himself and his experiences.  That was fun.

i think about how different it feels now than it did back even a year ago.   How nice it is not to feel awkward and uncomfortable there.

And it was nice to come home.  Sir got home just a few minutes after i did ~ he spends Sundays with his daughter and grandkids.  Sometimes, i do too.  Sometimes not.  

i’m feeling so much this morning ~~ maybe i can capture some of it here ~~

A Poem

Last night, there were spankings

and orgasms 

the pleasures of cuddling

with my ass still stinging, just a bit.

Today, i’m feeling lucky

overwhelmed with happy, counting the ways

that life continues to smile on me

and make me smile back.

My palms tingle

as if i can feel the energy of my life in my hands.

Partly your energy.

 The invisible connection between you and me

feeds me.

My family, my professional family,

staff and clients and bosses and friends ~

~  the circles of friends in my vanilla life.  

 All those connections linger in the air around me.

And through it all, around it and over,

my Sweet Sir,

who loves me and lets me love Him.  

Who holds me and stands with me.  

Questions and pushes and stretches me,

Lifts me, unwraps me ~~

Sees me.  

He fills me with joy

makes my heart dance and

feeds my soul.

 

22 ~ A Dash of Fantasy

“Position five,” says Anna.

To Naomi, she adds, “You have to roll over.  Yes.  On your knees, ass up, chest down.”  The crop taps Naomi’s ass, indicating she should raise it higher.

“Put your head down, your chest should touch the ground too.  Yes.  That’s better.”

The crop ~ Naomi guesses it’s the crop ~ strokes between her ass cheeks, and she whimpers.  “Put your hands behind you and open your ass wider,” says Anna.

Naomi obeys, reluctantly.

“When we’ve finished the morning exercise regime,” says Anna, “We’ll plug you again.  You need to be made wider for this hole to be useful.”

Naomi blushes, and her pussy clenches.  

After a minute, or two, in this position, the gong sounds again.  Anna says, “Ok, up everyone.  Let’s get started.”  She moves to the front of the room, which has a mirror running across the width of it, like a dance studio, Naomi thinks.

The music changes, it is a more rhythmic beat, not fast, but steady.   “Naomi,” says Anna, “Just follow along as best you can today.   Sara and Wendy can do some extra coaching with you this afternoon.  For now, it’s enough that you’re watching and moving with us.”

The movements aren’t difficult, and Anna talks them through it ~ Naomi is able to keep up for a while.  Mostly belly dance moves, with maybe a touch of strip tease thrown in.  

Watching herself in the mirror, her nipples seem so exposed , poking out through the holes in the sports bra.  And when her legs are open, she’s aware of her nakedness there.   But they are all exposed, except Anna.  It begins to feel natural.

Everyone else seems to be expert at this routine.  Naomi feels awkward and inadequate, but she keeps trying.  When the steps get too hard, she just moves with the music as best she can.

Finally,the tempo shifts again, and they are stretching slowly, cooling down.  Naomi’s tired and a bit breathless, but very aware of her body and feeling good.

“Nice job,” says Anna.  She turns to face them, brings her hands together, palms facing each other, at chest level, and bows slightly.  “Namaste,” she says.

Naomi follows Wendy and Sara’s lead, returning the greeting.  “Go shower,” says Anna, waving them off with a smile.  

Naomi rolls up her mat, as do the others, and puts it away.  Then Wendy and Sara each take one of her hands, and lead her to the shower.

It’s actually a shower room, open, with about eight shower heads in a circle, leaving a space in the middle for the drain.  They all shower together, Mark and Sean as well as Wendy and Sara.  

Naomi has to pee. The toilets are separate from the showers, but not closed in. She would have been dreadfully embarrassed only no one seems to be paying any attention.

The clothes go into a communal hamper.

Under the shower, the water’s warm and feels wonderful.  Naomi starts to ask for soap and a washcloth, but remembers she’s not to talk.  Stopping herself in time, she sees ~

~~ they are washing each other.  All of them, playing like children.  Not talking, but laughing, soaping each other up, rinsing, washing each other’s hair.  Naomi suddenly feels lonesome and left out.

Sara notices her, and smiles.  She darts over, and grabs her by the hand, pulling Naomi into the melee of soap and bodies washing and rinsing and playing.  They don’t allow her to wash anyone else, in fact, Mark pins her arms behind her with one hand.

And they wash her.  They shampoo her hair, rinse and put conditioner in it.  They scrub her feet, and wash between her legs,  They wash her breasts, pinching her nipples gently.  They wash her pussy.  They wash her ass.

Naomi loses track of whose hands are where.  It seems so odd not to be allowed to touch herself, or them, and to feel them touching her everywhere.

She is so turned on, she wants to cum more than anything, but they do not give her an opportunity to do that.

When she is clean, and rinsed, Mark puts his arms around her, pressing her head to his chest.  She tries to keep her body from pressing against him, not wanting that much intimacy.

This effectively leaves her ass protruding in the opposite direction.  

She is still wet, and the hand that lands on her ass is still wet, and Naomi cries out, “O!!”  It stings dreadfully.   The hand lands another hard, stinging smack on the other check.

Naomi tries to wiggle away then, she would have pressed up against Mark to escape the blows landing on her backside, but now they won’t let her.  Hands ~ whose hands she doesn’t know ~ hold her still, while other hands continue smacking her ass, and the back of her thighs.

Then it is two hands at once, one on each of her cheeks, and she begins to cry.

Only after she is crying do the fourth set of hands begin to caress, touching nipples, probing between her thighs, rubbing her clit, sliding fingers deep into her pussy, probing her asshole, all the while the spanking continues and she’s whimpering and moaning and about to start begging but she doesn’t know what for.

Before she can say anything, Mark takes a step back, pushes her head farther down a bit, grasping her hair so she doesn’t lose her balance, and fills her mouth with his cock.  She begins to suck.

The hands on her ass are taking turns again, one at a time, but she never knows where the next blow will land.  The hands caressing her are teasing, bringing her to the brink of orgasm and stopping, pinching her nipples hard and then stroking gently.

Naomi is lost in sensation.

Littles and Furries and…

…Homo’s, O, My!”  That’s what Kenny said last night, as he looked around Ms. Constance’s living room.

The little’s and the furry {i think there was actually just one} are stretched out on the floor coloring.  Kenny is representing the gay contingency himself, and therefore has the liberty of using the “Homo” label.

It’s an interesting gathering ~ Ms. Constance’s Thanksgiving celebration on the day after.   Ten or twelve of us enjoying fabulous pumpkin pie, Cookie Slut’s caramel blondies, some kind of cake, and even my own chocolate covered strawberries. 

We had just gotten through talking about horse cocks.  No, not the real thing, although i think the conversation started with someone remember a person who was hung rather like the equine stereotype.  Or maybe Sir started it by asking about where He could find an authentic riding crop.  Who knows…

In any case, the conversation turned to replicas of specific horse cocks ~ i mean, how would you know if it was really Secretariat’s cock or not?  And sperm whale cocks too, ‘Nilla.  Apparently some vendor at an event was selling them.

Most of us felt that the regular dildo’s that one attaches to the shower with a suction device were adequate for our needs, without requiring one that was so big that ~

 ~ when you set it down on the table, the weight of it bent it over “like a slinky.”

As Ms. Constance said, who thinks that’s an attractive description of a cock?  Have you ever heard someone say, “O, god, his cock looks just like a slinky?” like it was a good thing?

No, me either.

Anyhow.  We talk about how they got the models for the casts of the horse and whale cocks.  We were imaging all kinds of things, but Ms. Tammy straightens that out.  Apparently, they take pictures and create a 3-d model from the pictures, so “no animals are harmed  in the making of these cocks.  Or aroused!”

Anyhow, i sit at Sir’s feet for a long time, which is interesting to do in front of a room full of people.  Firsts…  

Eventually, it gets too uncomfortable, and i move to a chair.  We old submissives get to take some liberties here and there.

But it’s a delightful get-together.  Lots of laughter, and the pleasure of being able to talk about those things we  don’t usually share.

Of course, it isn’t all kinky.  Drew tells a wonderful story about him and Ms. Constance on their way out to dinner on Thanksgiving, stopping to help a 90 pound Hispanic man trying to push a small truck up a slight incline.

Drew’s linguistic skills come into play when he has to convince the man that his 250 pound friend, who’s steering the car, should actually be pushing instead.   “El Grosso hombre ~ HERE,” says Drew…

But it works, and the larger man and Drew are able to push the vehicle back into a service station/ parking lot.  At which point, one of the men in the lot looks up and says, ‘Truck won’t start?”

With a snort, Drew says, “No, we were just bored and thought we’d get out and push the truck around a while.”

He cracks me up, Drew does, and then Ms. Constance, who may have heard his snort, reminds me of my little, harmless snort at the event the other afternoon.  And Sir Charles graciously confirms that it had, indeed been a snort.

And i have to laugh, because i’ve gotten in trouble for a smart ass reply to Sir that very day.  You can imagine how comfortable i’m feeling that i decide to share the story with this crew of folks.  

It starts with me in the kitchen ~ making chocolate covered strawberries, actually.  Sir is talking about the bamboo poles He bought at Lowe’s.  He says,

“I’ve been thinking about maybe tying them together.  What do you think would work better?  To use them separately, or to tie all three of them together?”

And i say, without missing a beat, “i think they would work better in the garden with the roses, Sir.”  And, um, i laugh.

{It still makes me laugh.  AND it was an honest answer.}

Sigh.

Sir is not so amused.  He says something about missing an opportunity to give my thoughtful opinion, and He barely gives me time to wash the chocolate off my hands before i find myself bent over the bed, panties down, while we experiment with the bamboo canes.

Yeah

i think that we are actually not through with that experiment, because He only used one by itself, and then two and then three together, but now He wants to try each one in combination with each of the others… and yeah.  You get the picture.  Once again, i will “pay with my ass.”

And it would be good if i could quit feeling like i’m going to giggle every time i think about it.

Anyhow, everyone laughed as i told the story, and Ms. Constance was moved to gift Sir with a souvenir of the evening.

It’s a dowel rod, with a handle added, painted a lovely red.   

Just what Sir needed, right?   i’m sure i won’t forget the 2012 Thanksgiving celebration at Ms. Constance’s.

“Thank you, Ms. Constance.”

Giggle….

21 ~ A Dash of Fantasy

“Time for exercise,”  Anna says, just as the gong sounds again.  

Sara and Wendy lead Naomi to the bathroom.  They point out the sports bra and leggings she’s expected to wear, and then leave her alone, explaining that the door is to be left open at all times.

Naomi appreciates the semi-privacy, and is excited about getting to wear clothes.  But when she puts them on, she discovers that the bra has openings for her nipples, and the leggings are split at the crotch so as to reveal rather than cover these parts of her.

She thinks it may feel more exposed to wear clothes like this than to be completely naked.  She’s a little annoyed, this seems a bit ridiculous.  The sight of her nipples poking out of the bra, and her awareness of her pussy and ass with each step is just disconnecting.  

She washes her hands and comes out of the bathroom.  Wendy and Sara are wearing similar outfits, and she’s glad that at least she’s not singled out this way

The yoga mats are arranged on the floor, and Sean and Mark are already sitting on theirs.  Anna is in the front, riding crop in hand.   Sara points Naomi to her mat.

“Kneel,” she says, and Naomi copies the men’s position ~ kneeling, rocked back on her heels, legs somewhat open, hands resting on her thighs, palms up.

“This is the classic slave position,” says Anna.  “Position one.”

The music in the background is some kind of flute and drums, and Naomi is fairly comfortable in this position.  Anna walks back to stand beside her.  With the crop she taps the inside of Naomi’s thighs and Naomi opens her legs wider.

“Good girl,” Anna says.

They hold the pose for a minute, or two, and then, “We move to position two,” Anna says.  “Naomi, i will help you.”   

Crouching beside her, she takes Naomi’s hair, wrapping it around her hand, and then pulls backward.  At the same time, she puts her other hand in the middle of Naomi’s back, so that Naomi is bent backward as she had been the night before.  As if she were doing a backbend on her knees.

This is uncomfortable, and Anna lets her back up fairly quickly, but just for a few seconds.  Then, “Try it again,” she says.  Several times, Naomi has to practice the bend, although not required to hold the position for long.

Finally, “Not bad,” Anna says, “for a first time.”  Naomi breathes a sigh of relief, feeling pleased with herself.  Then, “Position three,” Anna says.  

She pulls Naomi back into the second position, and from there shows her how to move her legs out from under her, so she is lying on her back, knees bent, feet on the floor.  

“Put your arms at your side, palms up,” says Anna.  This is a comfortable position, and Naomi is thinking she could stay like this for a long time, quite easily.

But after a minute, or two, “Sean,” says Anna, “Come show Naomi some of the ways we use this position.”

Almost before she realizes what’s happening, Sean is standing over her, one leg on each side of her.  He kneels, quite close to her face, and puts his cock in his mouth.  Naomi is shocked at this sudden invasion, but doesn’t resist.

His cock is soft and not uncomfortable, but within seconds, he is rock hard and she can barely breathe.  “Breathe through your nose,” says Anna.  

This is a helpful reminder.   The cock is pressing almost against the back of her throat. She is not quite gagging, but all her attention is focused there.  As if from a distance, she hears Anna say, “We practice these positions to make you more pleasing.  The positions are designed to make you accessible in different ways, so you can be used easily.”  

Naomi is acutely aware of this. With her mouth being taken this way, her pussy seems particularly vulnerable.  She knows she is wet, and yet the idea of someone touching her there, while Sean’s taste fills her mouth, his scent in her nostrils, worries her.  Then something ~

~ the crop maybe ~ strokes her pussy, opening the lips, and she would moan but no sound can escape around the cock, which seems to get larger by the second.   The probing continues, sliding against her wetness, resting on her clit, until her hips rise up, seeking more.

Then, “Thank you, Sean,” Anna says, and the cock is withdrawn, Sean goes back to his mat.  

“Position four,”says Anna.  She shows Naomi how to pull her knees back to her chest.  Using the crop as a pointer, she explains, “In this position, they can fuck your cunt or your ass.  Of course, someone can fuck your mouth at the same time, if they choose.”    

A whimper escapes Naomi, and she is not sure if it’s fear or desire.

Happy Thanksgiving

i have so much to be thankful for this year, it’s hard to know where to start.

In the last year, i’ve become a grandmother, retired, started my own business, traveled to Very-Far-Away, and gotten to know so many wonderful people.   i’m thankful for those experiences and the people who’ve shared them with me.

In the last year, i found my real Sir, and started building a life with Him.  

i’m thankful for my blog.  Writing here leads me into a deeper understanding of myself, and has introduced me to many of you.  Well, most of you reading this.  

i’m thankful for you, my cyber-friends.  i love reading your blogs, there is so much beauty and wisdom in your experiences.  i can’t describe what a rich adventure it’s been, diving into the world you share with your readers, learning about you and myself and the universe.

Many of you are my circle of women, my sisters who help me get through the hard times, and celebrate the good times.

i am so grateful for all of you.

When i was young, i thought that by the time i was this old, that my life would pretty much be over.  That it would be boring and bland.  Instead ~~

my life is filled with joy and i am more alive and connected to myself and the universe than i ever thought possible.  It is more like this:

i am so thankful.

Between the Dashes ~ SIG

SIG stands for Special Interest Group, and it’s a discussion group that meets every month here in Where-i-Live.   We break into groups ~ submissives, switches and Dominants, and discuss the same set of questions.  Then we come back together and share our answers.

The discussion questions this time were:

How do you maintain the dynamics of power exchange on a day-to-day basis?
• What changes when company comes over or you’re in a vanilla setting?
• Do you schedule down time from the power dynamic?
• What about when you’re apart during the day, are there rituals or protocols that you can implement?
• Does 24/7 work for you or do you have to have time apart due to life situations?
• What about children? Or pregnancy? Marriage? Financial? Household? Outside family? Religion? Where do these fall in your dynamic?
• How do you handle this if you’re poly? Open? Bisexual?
• How do you impose a power exchange on a long term existing relationship?
• How important is play in maintaining the dynamic? Is it required?

It was a lovely discussion, relaxed, and most people talked, and i really enjoyed it.

We played with the idea of openness.  We ranged across the board in how “out” we are.  J and another woman {actually, another J} are pretty completely out.  Even J1’s boss knows.  And J2’s grown children know.  They’re both comfortable with that.

But one of us had lost a job for “immoral behavior.”  Not kinky stuff, actually, but still.  That would argue against openness.

Most of us are some mix of open and private.  Some members of the group expressed frustration with that, wanting to be more open with family or vanilla friends.

CS had been open with her parents, and discovered they were more accepting than she might have anticipated.  D’s dominant had been open with his father, and it had not been well accepted.  It’s a risk.

Lots of us are not out to family and vanilla friends.  Several people expressed  frustration with not feeling authentic because their family and friends don’t know they’re in a power exchange relationship and would be adamantly opposed to the lifestyle.  

Feeling like you can’t be yourself, that you’re living a lie, is a miserable feeling.  i think we all have a desire to be who we truly are, in the most open and genuine way possible.

So as we talk, i’m pondering this.   You know, i’m not open about my lifestyle to the vanilla world, and probably never will be.  If i were, i’d have a whole ton of damage control to do and it could, potentially,  have a significant impact on my career.  

My daughter doesn’t know {i don’t think} and my sister doesn’t.  i’m quite sure that neither of them want to know.

So does that mean i’m not being authentic?  Would there be some benefit for me in being more open?  i was just holding those questions in  my mind as we talked, and we talked about a bunch of the other questions.  

But finally i found my way through that maze of uncertainty.  You know, for me, not being open about my lifestyle is more a matter of privacy than lack of authenticity.  i’m the same person whether i’m kneeling at my Sir’s feet or arguing feminist principles.

For me ~ and i’m just speaking for myself ~ it’s not necessary for the vanilla world to know about the submissive or kinky aspect of my relationship with Sir.  i don’t feel that sense of being split, of being someone i’m not.

i am an old hippie, feminist, intellectual, submissive woman with a lot of personal power.  That’s who i am.  All the time.

But it’s fun working through all that and talking with other people and hearing their perspective.  i will not tell you the story of my {possibly inappropriate} snort, or the  table moving dilemma, since Ms Constance does both so well here.  i’ll just say it was a lot of fun.  

If you have thoughts you want to share about the questions from the discussion group, feel free to do it in the comments, or take them back to your blog and link here if you want to, or don’t link back, either way is fine.

i have lots of things to write about these days ~ and lots of questions to answer from other bloggers, which is pretty cool.  Thanks to ancilla for putting me on her list of favorites and coming up with more great questions to be answered.

Of course, Naomi is still on my mind, so she’s not going anywhere.   She’ll be back tomorrow…