The whip has spoken

I tied his hands onto the eye hooks in my living room and the look he has when he said he was scared. His voice was small like a whisper and he glanced up at me from his lowered head.

 

I’ll stop and we can talk? I told him.

 

“No” he replied.

 

I could tell he was nervous, who wouldn’t be? He had come all the way to the Bronx to be taken someplace he thought he wanted to go. He did in his mind. I stopped and hugged him. His heart slowed from racing to a more humanly pace.

There will be plenty of time to get it going again.

 

I could feel the buzz creeping up my back to my head. And I knew I had to focus to slow the action down. I felt the moister forming in between my legs. We could both smell it. And I smiled when he licked his lips.

 

“I can smell you” he said.

 

I ran my tongue down his now up lifted arms and I could smell him, that musky man. Yum.

 

I begin by showed him the single tail, But I start with the deerskin flogger. It’s soft and in between flogging him I moved in and lick his nipples which were hard. He moans and I stepped it up a bit by nibbling on his nibbles on the next round of flogging.

 

I reached for the single tail. And rubbed the butt end on his nipples’ I then wrapped the body of it around his cock while kissing him. Again there was a moan deep from him, or was it me?

 

I started slow letting him get the feel of it, after a few strokes I started the build up. His breathing became labored, and when I slowed down he looked at me his eyes a bit glazy.

 

I started again pushing aside the fog building in my head. Focus I reminded myself, it was hard not to ride the wave he was pulling me on. The sound of the whip was calling and he arched his body to me pulling on the rope around his wrist.

 

“More?” I asked.

 

“Yes” was all he said in that same small voice.

 

His desire was showing and I had no problem complying to his yes.

A Few Thoughts

I find as in the past that I come across  very few people I’d want to or can call friend. And even fewer people who choose to really live this life, but when I do I expect this much. Since I expect it in myself.  

I am Honest.

I keep my word or damn near die trying to.

I am Responsible.

I am always willing to help those who are willing to help them selves.

I will teach those who really want to learn and I respect my teachers.

I try to avoid debates with those who have closed minds since that is a waste of energy.

I respect others relationships. I will not reveal the personal information of others.

I realize I may fall short of these at times.

I am against bigotry, domestic abuse, child abuse, rape and government interference in our private lives.

I am for individual freedom, personal responsibility, and public service.

I will not bring into my inner circle those who do not strive to live by the above.

Only Human

It’s very rare that I would have the weekend free from work. So Friday I made plans to meet my partner in crime Ms. Petal at Rawhide, our favorite leather/levi bar. And since my buddy Burger wasn’t doing anything and loves the music on the jukebox he came along. It’s nice to go to a bar and the bartenders know you. The first few times there I had to show ID. But now I can just step up to the door, pull those leather curtains aside and walk in. It was a scorcher Friday and feeling the air conditioner was a pleasant relief. I found a sit at the corner of the bar and Tim, one of the barkeeps greeted me warmly.  I like the bar around this time it’s not to full and the conversation is easy.

While I waited for Burger sipping my gin and tonic, I started to listen to two guys who were having a conversation about the military. One had finished their tour in the Army the other still had some time in the Navy. They were going at it talking about the different cities and countries they were stationed in. when they go to talking about the different military bases, Tim had to tap out of the conversation. I guess it was hot while they reminisced about the different kinds of guys they came across.  He looked over at me and said I could never live on a base. I told him that I did and it was really cool. The gentleman who is in the Navy asked if I was enlisted? I made a joke that it felt like it, but I was a wife of a Marine. And the only bases I’d live on were here in the USA, Fort Dix, and Fort Hamilton. I told them that even though I didn’t go to boot camp I was taken under the wing of another enlisted man’s wife to show me the rope of the base.

Soon after the guys went back to talking about another subject and I turned my attention to my gin and tonic. Burger arrived and we talked and had a couple of more drinks. I was meeting Ms. Petal in a few hours at switch. Burger is the only male straight friend I have and I like that he loves the vibe of the oldest gay leather/levi bar in New York. It must be those corny songs they play between 5-8pm? Which he and Tim were singing to. Good times.

I was surprised when Burger nugged me and said “hey what are those women doing in her?” I had to remind him that i was a woman. to which he reminded me that I was a Sir. Yeah I am. I spotted one of them going out to smoke and I don’t know if it was all the talk about the millatry but Rawhide is our bar. I went out side and stuck up a converation with the young lady. Just to lat her know the lay of the land so to speak.

1. Bar staff are freindly and women are made to feel welcomed.

2. There’s no smoking in front of the window. How else are the guys inside going to look at the beefcake that walks by?

3. When going to the bathroom make sure to either have someone to watch the door, or hold the door closed with a foot. There are no locks on the doors. It’s difficult after a couple of drinks but can be done.

We talked some more and I wished her well and hope to see her and her friend again. It’s alway nice to see women in the bar. Each one teach one.

    

The circle of life

I have been on a lot of what I like to call one cup of coffee dates. I get emails from guys who say we have a lot in common then when we met and start to talk about D/s, well if you’ve been reading this blog you know most times its bait and switch. I went out to meet a guy that I had been talking with for about a week. And he was a no show, he didn’t even have the manners to call and say he wasn’t coming. So there I was on 34^th street and 9^th ave thinking I might as well have some lunch, when low and behold I spot a man looking at me.

I thought I knew him but hey this is New York, I might have seen him on the street a few blocks back. But no, he walked up and my memory was a jarred. I met him a couple of years ago. We exchanged pleasantries and as I was going into the dinner to have lunch I invited him. We had been out a couple of times but nothing became of it, since he was looking for someone younger, which at the time amazed me since we had went out a couple of times, but things got real cool after he found out how old I was. Our conversation was good, we have a lot in common he’s funny and I’m clumsy. It was like we picked up were we left off. And just when I was debating in my head to bring up this fact, he asked if I was seeing anyone? Which I’m not he also went on to say that he was not seeing anyone either. Seems he’s come of age as it were. A few women he had been attractive to expressed that they thought he was a bit old for them. Mind you when I met him I just turned 42 and he was 35.  But now a couple of years later he is now 40 and finding out that the young femdommes of internet porn and fiction is not real life. You would have thought back when he was 35 he would have known that. Just like I knew that although he passed on me one day he would be my age and someone would pass on him because of his age and not because of who he is.

Drop That Top

Recently I had the pleasure of taking part of a discussion were the topic of top drop was brought up. Many in the conversation didn’t think it was much of an issue, and why should they? They were bottoms. And for this post I’ll refer to the people involved as top and bottom.

 

When asked if they did anything for the top that they have the pleasure to be topped by all of them gave a blank stare. Some of us gave examples of how top drop effects us, and you would have thought we were speaking another language, or giving details of some horrific crime. The looks on their faces showed they had no idea or had given no thought to what happens to tops after a scene. And why would they? We always hear about after care for the bottom, but what of the top? This also holds true for the lamenting of the gift that bottoms give what gift? It stops being a gift to me when you go on and on about it, give it to me and shut the hell up about.  And God forbid you ever hear mention of the gift tops give. Queue the crickets; yeah that’s what you’ll hear if you ever bring up that subject in some circles. Tops giving the “gift” heavens no.

In the same conversation I explained how much work it was to not only be a top, but to put a scene together. They (the bottoms) looked bored, but every top in the room was nodding their heads. We are the ones, who think about the temperature of the room.

What kind of music to play if any is there something to drink, the kind of scene that will happen and do we have everything we need for said scene?

And that all important question; will the police break down my door and catch me assaulting the bottom? Yeah assault that’s what it’s called when you do bodily harm to someone. Even if they agree to come to you home and be tied down and caned. I’m charged with assault, but thank goodness the bottom is protected.

 

Even if the police don’t break down my door and drag me off to jail, and I do get to do all the things that were agreed on. Afterwards, I’m expected to take care of the bottom. To console them, to gently bring them back from where, only they know.

After all the planning and executing of the scene, who takes care of top?

Think about?

 

 

 

 

 

The last supper but who’s eating

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To The Edge

Hon, that’s dangerous. Fuck yeah it is that’s why I like it.

I got this beautiful knife from Lady Sabrina at Folsom. It’s been sitting on my dresser since then. Every morning I look at it and wonder when I will get to use it?
Knife play is something that is very intimate to me. It brings closeness to things. The knife, sweat and breathing are the only things more palpable in the room then the two bodies the space occupy.

Knife play, along with needles brings a bonding of trust on a level that for nothing else that I do can. Not to say that caning or single tails don’t deserve a level of trust, and can bond people, but knives, and needles can be used as an invasion into the body. There’s always a chance of blood and blood for me binds on a deep level. It says your mine, I’m yours.

What Edge Play Exploratorium
When Tue Jan 27 7:30pm – Tue Jan 27 11pm
Where 260 W 36th, 3rd Floor

Created By
TES
Description
Mistress Didi*s Blissful Breath Play
With safety first, The Mistress Didi* will guide you in the subtleties
and varieties of ways to enhance the thrill of Asphyxiation Play. As
always, you will learn safe and proper approaches to manipulate the
physiology of your Playmate along with techniques and the use of an
array Toys to create truly breath-taking experiences!

Caning with Lady Raven
Lady Raven, a truly sadistic Dominant, will be discussing caning. The
good, the bad and the downright fun. She will also be discussing
safety, care and technique. And hoping to find the answer to the
question, “when did caning become edge play?”

Knives and Pointy Things with Dov
Knives and other sharp objects elicit a primitive and visceral
reaction in people ranging from fear to adoration. They can be used to
cut, scratch, prod, manipulate, mindfuck or any combination you can
think of. This is a class on how to work safely and understand sharp
objects and how they can be used in a scene

ConMen

After tying him in a body harness, I had him kneel with his ass in the air. I tied his hands to the bed, brought the rope behind him. Using each end I tied the rope around his thighs ending the tie onto the harness. I gave his ass a few swats with the cane to see if I still had his attention, which I did.

Rubbing some lube in and on the right places,I kneel behind him. Grabbing the harness, I slid gently in, and got my rhythm going. I could hear him moaning then realized it was me, We both were sweating from the action, and I wanted to kick it up a notch. I slowed my pace and reached for the lube. Putting some in my hand I reached around and found what I was hoping for and was not disappointed. 

Between the stroking and the stroking, I could feel more then the heat coming from my thighs, I knew from the way he was pushing back he was just as close. I could wait any longer and then…

My vibrator stopped, it stopped. I looked around and saw that my clock was out and the fan wasn’t on.

Fuck

I coud hear voices form the neighborhood, and not wanting to look out my window I heard someone having a conversation with a Con Edison worker.

It would figure a man, not one but two would deny me my orgasm. One guy was telling another, that they were working on it and that it was just this block. I on the other hand couldn’t give a rats ass about them working on it. Since they caused it.

Idea

I jumpped out of bed, set my phone to alarm at 7 am, jumped back into bed and realized my mother (although I hate to admit it) is right. As long as a girl has two fingers and some imagination, she can take herself far.

Now where was I? Ah right.

Feeling like I couldn’t take it any more I grabbed the harnse and stroked until the big O. 

Okay so, this is what goes on in my head after playing with the butterfly. I’m either going to have to work on some shit or get over some shit.

Until next time Perverts

Goddess Worship

 

 

This morning I woke up knowing exactly what I dreamt about.

First I should say that I went to bed last night at 9:30. I was sleepy, thus I took my ass to bed, which is not something I would normally do. I would push past my sleepiness to stay awake. Believing that this would add to my already erratic sleep pattern (read insomniac here). So not wanting to lay on the sofa and fall asleep with the tv on, and have some horrible movie come on while I was sleeping to dig its way into my head and corrupt my corrupt dreams, I went to bed.

 

I woke up knowing I has a dream about Goddess worship, yes Goddess worship, I have no idea were this came from No I should explain, I do know where it comes from, but how it got into my head and the dream that follows is really the question No it is the question.

 

So, here’s the thing.

 

It’s late and we are just finishing up for the night. It has been a great workout of sorts. And we are both flying off the rush of pain and sweet and kisses and hugs (this is the point I knew I was dreaming). Not that I don’t like kissing or hugging, but I’m an Aquarian, thus I can be perceived as being a bit aloof and distant, which I have been accused of and rightfully so. And I don’t give myself intimately very easily.

Back to the dream.

Well after some more hugging and a little bit of dozing off. I got up to shower, while leaving someone in bed sleeping. When I got out of the shower I noticed that the moon is shinning through the window and I pull back the curtain. Climb back into bed and on top of you sleeping. Waking you up I have my way with you and just as I come, you say the moon is like you a Goddess.

 

After, we feel asleep to wake up to the sun shining bright in the window. To which I pulled you on top. When you asked if you could come? But of course, since the Sun and the Moon are continuously chasing each other. And what kind of Goddess would I be, if I didn’t allow this one thing?

I’m still working it over in my mind about this.

Until next time Perverts

Enjoy the ride on the chariot.  

 

 

Hunger

 

 

I want to use my whip until my arm is tired with fatigue, and hunger/ I want to lick the wounds with ice in my mouth to feed my hunger. I want to pour wax over your body until the wick is gone and the jar is hot from my hunger. I want to hear you scream for me not to stop and know that I will not feeding both our hunger.

 

And when I’m done.

 

I want to hold and kiss you and tell you how strong you are for taking what I can give.

 

And in the morning, you’ll make breakfast and over coffee I’ll admire the marks on your body while watching you lay across my bed.

 

Such a show off you are, and I love it.

 

We eat breakfast with no judgment between us just the hungry in my eyes and the lust for the pain in yours.

 

Until next time Perverts

Feed your Hunger