30 Days of Kink – Day 20: Curiosity

Day 20: Talk about something within kink/bdsm that you’re curious about/don’t understand.

I can’t write this from the “What I don’t understand,” perspective. I just don’t think that way. If it’s not something I enjoy/want to do or don’t get, but others do… ~shrug~  Who cares if I don’t get why it works for them? Why do rubber fetishists or foot fetishists or adult babies get off on what they do? Who cares why they do? If it’s enough for them that they do, ten more power to them.

The first part of the question, though, “what am I curious about” is a great one! There are many, many things I have yet to experience (see my Kinky Bucket List!) and that I am interested in/curious about:  Erotic hypnosis. Pussy pumping. Anal fisting. Gloryholes. Long-term bondage/confinement. Electricity. Urethral play.  The list goes on.

Right now I am very curious, and looking into, erotic hypnosis. It just so happens that there is a person that teaches it on the cruise, and will be giving a class. I have had to practically twist W’s arm to agree to go, but he has agreed to do so, so we shall see what fun comes of it! Maybe we can use it during the cruise to make me act like a wanton slut at one of the bars on the ship.

More wanton. More of a slut. Hah.  Since I actually don’t act that way around strangers for real, it actually would be a fun experiment. But I’d really like to explore mind control/body control with it.

So there is one thing, and something that I will be able to tell you all about when I get back. :-)

30 Days of Kink: Day 8 – Image

Day 8: Post a kinky image you find erotic.

I guess I could look for images from Creative Commons to find something to post here, but, though it makes me feel a little self-conscious to admit it, I have a whole lot of images that I find incredibly erotic right here–scenes W has photographed.  Why should I seek something else out?

There are all kinds of reasons I find this image erotic, but the main one, right now, is that it is touching on all kinds of fantasies I am having as I explore the idea with W of engaging in a fantasy kidnapping while at Dark Odyssey – Fusion in June.

There are other reasons it gets me hot though.  This was supposed to be a simple photo shoot. I wanted a certain picture taken, so I set up the scene, asked them to tie me a certain way, etc. It wasn’t play, it was photography fun.

But, as he always does, W couldn’t just take a picture.  He had to make it real.  That hand that he is holding the rope gag with? It’s also fisted in my hair.  He wasn’t playing as he yanked my head back and held me there.  And he wasn’t playing when he opened the shades up just a tad too early–possibly showing the crew of a passing boat my naked form silhouetted in the window.

I also like the detached way he is standing, barely looking at me.  He really is just exhibiting his latest “acquisition,” and I have had many masturbation sessions following that thought through to actually having the door open and men file in, one at a time, to make use of the ship slut before he sells her off to a whorehouse somewhere.

Damn, now THAT’S a hot fantasy.  Too bad DO doesn’t have a ship handy, eh?

30 Days of Kink: Day 7 – Favorite Toy

Day 7: What’s your favorite toy?

Are we talking sex toy or BDSM toy? I’ll go with BDSM toy, since this is 30 Days of Kink. That’s a really hard one to call. I both love and hate all of W’s toys, all of his implements of misery, because he can use every one of them in a way that is good pain, and a way that is a misery. But even that, while I am hating it, is good. Sort of. In that weird, fucked up way that I feel about all our kinky toys.

It’s also a moving target. I can love canes for days and days, and then suddenly be unable to tolerate them. I’m kind of in that space now, actually, mainly because my tolerance level in general has diminished in the time that I’ve been recovering and not playing much, but W is still using them like he used to, heavy and hard with little build-up. So I wince and cower and tremble as soon as I see one of those fuckers in his hand, whereas before I used to anticipate them, if not with joy, at least with some expectation of pleasure.

In any case, right now I am in a love/hate relationship with the new whip I got him at Spanksgiving. A little 2-foot singletail, it can be used close up and has all the lovely zing of a long whip with none of the space requirements. It can be vicious or not, and I love it both ways.

As I mentioned in today’s Wanton Wednesday post, there are more pictures to go with the “Prisoner” picture, and more story to tell.  Here is one of those pictures: the result of that wicked 2 ft singletail.

30 Days of Kink: Day 4 – Early Signs

Day 4: Any early experiences that, in retrospect, hint at your kinks?

I was such a shy, withdrawn teenager.  All I thought about was my horse & reading. And boys, but less so.  Kink would have been right outta there.

There were two things that might have indicated where my future interests would lie, however. One I don’t consider “kink” but definitely is my sexuality, the other is definitely kink, but it’s hard for me to say that any 14 year old that read what I did wouldn’t become aroused…

I lived in a small mountain town with my mother and stepfather and spent summers with my father in Berkeley, CA. One summer, when I was about 14, and just becoming aware of myself as a sexual being, I was in a park near my dad’s apartment. I saw two women kissing there, and holding hands, and just acting like a normal couple.  I watched them, surreptitiously, for a long time.  I was deeply aroused, and also ashamed by that arousal. But I was also something else…something I can’t really name.  It was the first time I had ever considered women loving each other, both sexually and romantically. It was an eye–and heart–opening moment for me.

Later that week I looked up in an alternative paper where the local Gay/Lesbian Center was, and I walked by it several times that summer, but never worked up the nerve to go in.

The second memory has to do more directly with kink. I found a copy of Nancy Friday’s My Secret Garden, in which women told their sexual fantasies. The ones I remember most? The enema and alien sex ones. LOL But I remember paging through the book to get to the kinky ones, in whatever form.

Check out the list below for other kinky blogger’s answers to Day 4’s question!

Cinnamon

Scarlet Lotus

Mistress Says

Pornocracy

He Says She Says

Nimues World

Roles Defining Rules

Deviante

Perverted Imp

There’s also someone new doing the 30 Days, and though she hasn’t gotten to Day 4 yet, I wanted to point out her blog, because it’s lots of fun (and okay, hot and sexy too…):

Molly’s Daily Kiss

30 Days of Kink: Day 3 – Discovering Myself

Day 3: How did you discover you were kinky?

One of my first memories of being aroused sexually was while I was reading one of those “bodice ripper” romances. I don’t remember the title, but I do remember the exact scene: a highwayman waylays a young gentlewoman’s carriage and proceeds to rape her.  Roughly, and yet gently too, and of course she climaxes as well, and she can never forget him, and, after a lot of rough, steamy, half-raping sex, they admit their love for one another and live happily ever after.  Heh, now that I think about it, I recall that it even had elements of one of W’s fantasies: blackmail. She offers herself to him if he will let her brother live, or maybe keep him out of jail or something, and later he uses that against her to affect her acquiescence several more times, until she discovers that his supposed hold over her is all a lie…and well, it’s a smarmy romance.  You get the idea.

That’s not actually when I “discovered” I was kinky, but in looking back it certainly is a pretty clear indication of one of my kinks. I remember feeling ashamed of my arousal even then.  I don’t know if my shame was about being aroused, about feeling sexual, or if it was shame over what had aroused me, though.

It seems that I have felt shame over being sexual, feeling sexual & liking sex for as long as I have been sexual.  I’ve been doing some cogitating and talking about that with W and Ad…working thru some of my own hang-ups, parsing out why I am me, and why I react/feel the way I do about certain things. Hopefully some of that will make it’s way here, although it’s an awful lot to digest in one sitting, so who knows.

In any case, I was introduced “properly” to kink via a couple that I dated for a short time. They weren’t kinky per se, but he was quite dominant, and did some dominating things to her sexually when we were together that I was at first shocked to witness, and then surprised to discover I really liked and that really turned me on. That was my first inkling. Then when I went to one of the websites that she recommended and started reading about this so-called “lifestyle,” well it was like a lightbulb turned on in my head. I was so fired up in fact, that I didn’t even bother with the 12 months of exploring in secret online and instead jumped right into the local, real life scene. When I saw a woman get tied up at a PEP meeting as the demo bottom, I knew right then that I’d found my place. I was “home.” And I haven’t looked back since.

For the rest of this series, and to see who else is participating, visit here: 30 Days of Kink.

30 Days of Kink: Day 2 – Kinks

Day 2: List your kinks.

Good heavens, what do I not find kinky? What doesn’t turn me on? Oh, hmmm…actually, there are a few things, as I discovered in talking with W the other night.  Although (sigh) I wonder if, in the middle of the things he does to me, in the middle of being taken, being used, being fucked, if even those things would turn me on. Sometimes I wonder…what are my limits?  Where are my boundaries?

But perhaps that should be discussed in a different post.

The short answer to the question is that there are too many to list.  But I’ll name a few off the top of my head.

  • Being controlled/loss of control. This is a big one, and probably informs everything else that follows.
  • Being forced to do things that I don’t want to
  • Being exhibited
  • Being given away or used by others
  • Being talked dirty to, whether that is being called names or being told dirty stories about what he wants to do to me/have me do/have others do to me
  • Hands on my mouth or throat
  • Being restrained, either by hand, with rope or any other material
  • Consensual non-consent
  • Rough sex/fighting back/being overpowered
  • Feeling small, humbled, embarrassed

Geez, the list seems so short. I guess I am trying to list things that specifically get me hot and bothered, as opposed to things that I just enjoy during BDSM play. I mean, I like gags, anal sex/toys, being filled and stretched, crops, canes and other implements, piss play, objectification, etc., but really, any of those things–as well as, let’s face it, any of the others listed–are all under the umbrella of having my control stripped from me. That is my true kink. And under that umbrella, if I was told to do, or forced to do, anything else, it could, and would, become kinky.

Here’s a few things that don’t really trip my sexual trigger (which is how I define a “kink”):

  • Ageplay
  • Playing a top
  • Blood play (although doing some things that might cause bleeding are hot, it’s not the blood itself that gets me)
  • Scat (although being enema’d is a huge turn on)
  • Death themes

And no, you don’t see anything on that list having to do with the truly non-consensual, because–duh.

There are some things that I do get off on from a non-sexual kink perspective. Needles would fall in that category. Some predicament bondage as well. And some pain play.  W usually eroticizes our pain play so that pain = some form of pleasure, but occasionally he does not, and yet I still enjoy it (enjoy not enjoying it, lol.)

30 Days of Kink: Day 1 – Defining My Kinky Self

So, I did it. Sent off my first day of the 30 Days of Kink meme to Rayne of Insatiabledesire to post as a guest on her blog.  You can see that post here: 30DoK: Define Your Kinky Self by Jade. Go on, take a look, and while you’re at it, catch up on all the other posts in the series. There are some bright, beautiful, interesting kinksters out there.

As I continue this meme, I’ll be updating and posting the links to a new Page I’ve created here: 30 Days of Kink.

In conjunction with that, here’s a different kind of snapshot of my kinky self than what I wrote there (I had to be all, like, intellectual there, yanno.)

I was at W’s for the first time since my surgery. Not quite feeling 100% yet, but just on the verge of feeling “good enough.” Earlier that morning he had managed to fend me off when I tried to force him to have sex with me, even going so far as to try and climb on top of him and put it in before he knew what I was doing. I’m so sneaky. ;-)  I didn’t succeed.  He has SO much willpower, the bastard. (This all makes sense if you understand that I was still on a “no sex” rule after my surgery, lol.)

Anyhow, I don’t know how it started. In fact everything before “The Radiator” is fuzzy to me. One minute we were sitting across from each other, each on our own computers, as sometimes we do in the afternoons, and the next…he had his hand in my hair and his cock down my throat as I crouched with my back against the radiator, trying to open my throat to him without gagging while managing to keep my head from smacking against the radiator with each thrust.  I didn’t succeed. (Apparently I was doomed to failure in everything I tried that weekend.) I gagged, he pressed harder, deeper; my head bobbed back and forth, slamming into the radiator every time he pushed himself deeper into my mouth.  I think at one point, he may have said something about enjoying ramming my head against it.  The bastard. (Did I already say that?)

And me? Oh yeah, I enjoyed every thrust. I savored the taste of him in my mouth, his musky man-smell in my nostrils, the feel of him filling my throat, of his hand gripping my hair in a tight fist and forcing me against him, holding me there when I struggled to pull away.  That and the knowledge that he could and would do this, any time, simply because he felt like it.

And then he pulled abruptly away, pushed me aside, and told me to get ready to go home.  I fell back on my butt and sat there, momentarily bemused; quiescent.

And wet.  So fucking wet.

My bemusement rapidly turned into a voracious “I wanna get fucked!”-ness and I stood up and wrapped myself around him, rubbing against him and panting and mewling against his throat as I tried to convince him that I really was ready for sex. No matter what that pesky doctor said. Again, I didn’t succeed.

Of course…this weekend was another story. ;-)

For more fun, here’s another snapshot, with something else stuck in my mouth (and a bit of wetness dribbling down my chin):