Do you?

What happens when your thoughts stray to me? In the day, when you should be working but find yourself with nothing to do? At night, when sleep is cast off in favor of memories of my scent, my flesh, my desire mingled with yours?

I want to know – how hard is it not to touch yourself in those moments when memories of me and what I do to you are circling your mind? Do you ever give in and touch yourself?

Do you?

When you’re driving, alone with just your thoughts, are you ever tempted to find that sensitive spot and slowly circle your thumb around it, lazily, with just a little bit of fear that someone is going to know what you are doing?

Do you imagine, in that moment, or caught off guard while making dinner, or purposefully after scrolling through your Tumblr feed and seeing the images of things to come that I’ve left for you, do you imagine the words you want to hear me whisper in your ear?

“Kneel” or “Don’t move” or “You’re going to stay there until I say you are done”? or “I’m going to fuck you until you forget your name, and that’s just the beginning”?

Do you pause what you are doing as you savor the feeling of your pants constricting your swelling cock?

Do you go one step further and imagine all the ways in which you could be used, debased down to nothing but the most primitive systems running because all higher functioning is really not needed for what you’re going to be doing?

In those moments, do you touch yourself? Does your hand circle your shaft, squeezing, stroking, letting go of the tension and lust built up since the last time? Do you shiver, just a little, slightly drunk from the combination of physical pleasure and memories of how I know just what to do to make you a puddle of hedonistic desire?

Do you imagine, in those moments, that I am watching? That I am directing?

Do you?

Discoveries with a new partner

I admit I had built it up a bit in my mind; we all tend to do that when we meet someone new, don’t we? We’d been texting for a couple of weeks, and we’d talked about kink. I established that he was definitely kinky, and in most of the ways that I was looking for in a play partner. He mentioned liking pain such as CBT, and I thought, “Great! I finally found a masochist!” I was clear that I am a sadist. I didn’t dance around it or use cutesy terms. I was as forthcoming as I could be, and he was very receptive and eager.

I drove the ~70 miles to the town over to meet him for lunch. I didn’t have a game plan or any expectations. In fact, I had been adamant that there would be no play on the first date. I took no toys or restraints with me. We had lunch, which led into dinner, which led into a decision on my part to stay the night because the road to his home is steep and covered in loose gravel (I’d lost traction twice driving up the mountain to it) and the deer on the highway from his city to mine are thick (there’s frequent and sometimes lethal accidents).

I liked him as soon as I met him. He is German, and I love accents. He is smart and funny and I had an amazing time just talking to him. He was a complete gentleman and I didn’t feel creeped on or objectified at all. We meshed as friends so incredibly well – far better than I’d expected.

When I changed my mind and decided fuck it, let’s play, I initially enjoyed it. I was able to be rougher in ways that I’m normally not, but in other ways – ways that I’m use to and enjoy – I had to tone it down. The whole point for me in finding a play partner was that I wouldn’t have to hold back. While I regret nothing and would like to see him again, having to temper my sadism was a let down. He said that I provided the right amount of pleasure and pain; I don’t really know how to tell him that something was still missing for me.

So that experience leads me to wonder how I relay just what I do need so that I can determine if someone I’m talking to is going to mesh up with me. I suppose I should start saying I need a “heavy masochist” or a “serious masochist.” When I get going, I’m very feral and predatory. He is my prey, and I will take him down, claw and bite and devour him, use him up until he has nothing left to give. But how do I determine if someone is going to be that person for me, when their idea of sadism is some ball slapping and spanking? That’s like, a Tuesday for me. It’s run of the mill, nothing special; that’s light foreplay as far as I’m concerned. One person’s horror movie is my walk in the park on a sunny afternoon.

I do get to see my husband later this week, which is very happy making since it’s been over 3 months, and we’ll play and be our happy goofy selves then. But he is so going to be in for it. I hope he’s prepared!

*headdesk*

Ok I’m trying to pic a good dom and I kno they r supposed to pick me . Just a little frustrated right now bc I kno that I’m ready for one just can’t decide I need help !!!

I like to think that the person who posed this question doesn’t have a middle finger on her left hand. It’d surely be hard to hit the “e” and “w” keys without that middle finger…. although not impossible. It would also be unfortunate if she tried to flip someone off with that hand, forgetting the tragic beaver accident that lost her a VID (Very Important Digit). Perhaps she also missing her pinky finger on that hand, since the “a” is also missing.

Why she seems to think she is in an entirely different era, I don’t know, but there sure are a lot of people who seem to forget we are in “AD” not “BC.”

Oh, and she’s 41.

Yeah. And I thought I only needed to worry about the younger generation.

(Nope, not even touching on the absolute idiocy of her question. Not.going.there.)

I want you to stalk me

I want you to stalk me. Follow in my shadow as I let my thoughts spill out here, there, in all the corners I visit and leave little parts of me behind.

I want to know that when I talk about you, when I talk about us, when I reblog and repost and reply that you’re going to be there sometime after me, taking it all in to mold yourself to me, using my castoff thoughts to fit me better, to know me better.

I want to go back over my tracks and see the footprints four sizes larger than mine and know that you’ve been there too. I want to look at the walls of our mazes and see your writing there, under mine, snuck in after I’d turned the corner and carried on.

I want you to follow me the way I follow you, an endless loop where we never actually know who’s shadowing who.

We use to. What ever happened?

“I don’t agree with that lifestyle” and that’s ok

Let’s talk about why this is all wrong:

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I’ve seen this making it’s rounds on Tumblr, and I feel like I need to say something.

#1. It’s not “a lifestyle” for everyone. Yeah, I’m dominant. I’m also a mother, and it’s okay if someone says, “I don’t agree with bringing kids into this world.” I’m a wife, and it’s okay if someone says, “I don’t agree with marriage.” Those people are not a threat to me unless they’re holding a gun to my head and insisting I have a hysterectomy or get a divorce.

I don’t go to munches. I don’t go to play parties. I’ve been to exactly one event. I learned that I don’t enjoy them, at least not the ones I went to (the munches were fine, just not the event & play party). I don’t consider this “a lifestyle” anymore than I consider being married “a lifestyle.” It’s just a thing I do that ties in with my personality. Yeah, being dominant is who I am, but it only has influence over me and my husband. It doesn’t effect my earning ability, my choice in clothing, my stance on abortion, my ethics, my parenting, or the myriad of other things that constitutes a “lifestyle.”

#2. Well, you somehow found yourself having a conversation about BDSM with this person, so what role did you play? You could have feigned disinterest or pleaded ignorance. You aren’t forced to discuss kink with anyone.

#3. Disagreeing with something doesn’t make someone an asshole. Expecting to be accepted by everyone makes you entitled and selfish though, and that’s two strikes against you.

Not everyone views BDSM, or D/s, or M/s, or any variation thereof, as a lifestyle, and that’s entirely acceptable.

Not everyone is going to agree with all aspects of BDSM either. I personally think age play (the “I going to go swing, then color you a picture, and then I suck your dick Daddy!” kind) is just a way for pedophiles to hide among us – and no, arguing with me won’t change my opinion and there will NOT be a debate on my blog about this. What makes it okay for me to have that opinion is that I don’t tell that to anyone who is into age play. I let all the age players go about their business without me meddling in it, because it’s NOT my business unless I come home one day and find them on my couch. I don’t respond to discussions about it on Fetlife, I don’t go into those groups to say “tsk tsk,” I don’t friend them. I stay out of their way. That is *my* responsibility to being a decent human being.

Disagreement is not discrimination. Avoiding people and situations you don’t enjoy because you choose to be kinky and others there aren’t is not discrimination. Being excluded from a private organization – be it a munch or a Fetlife group – is still not discrimination. Being kicked out of the family or losing a job with a morality clause because they discovered you were a polyamorous pansexual masochistic sex worker is not discrimination.

What that graphic up there does more than anything is promote a sense of entitlement. It’s not furthering “the cause.” Calling people assholes who disagree with what you do doesn’t help to show BDSM in a good light. It shows an immature snapshot of people who insist that they be accepted for “who they are,” by calling those “other” people assholes. How, exactly, does this show people into kink as being sane, healthy, and happy?