A Kinkster's Ramblings

Hello, Operator. I'm in something of a bind.

I'm lying naked in my kitchen and my penis

Has turned a frightening shade of blue. Please don't laugh, ma'am.

I was in a chatroom yesterday and met a mistress

Who told me all about a lovely whip and matching cuff

And collar set that she'd let me wear, if I'd be her slave.

I pictured myself as an abject, leather-clad slave

With a stern and lovely lady who would tightly bind

Me with colored ropes, or perhaps she'd choose to handcuff

Me to her bed--Oh no! Can't think of that! My poor penis

Already hurts! How could she be such a cruel, cruel mistress?

You don't need to rub it in. I should have known better, ma'am.

"What will you do for me?" Mistress asked. "Anything, Ma'am!"

She entered my home and I became her willing slave;

I bought her furs, fine gowns, shoes-- anything my Mistress

Asked for, she received, which put my wallet in quite the bind.

The financial bind is nothing compared to my penis,

Which is sorely suffering in this awful metal cuff!

I beg you to send someone to undo this damned cuff!

I'd rather do it myself, but I really can't, ma'am;

My hands are tied behind my back, trapped like my penis,

My poor penis that's trapped because I thought I was a slave!

I only have myself to blame for getting in this bind--

Yes, I should have known from the start that bitch was no mistress!

Please don't tell anyone about this awful mistress

Business; make up some tale of how I fell on this cuff

Doing a magic trick; that's how I got in this bind!

Your constant laughter is not reassuring at all, ma'am.

I shouldn't be left to your mercy; I'm not your slave!

If you don't send help, I'll sue you if I lose my penis!

Don't hang up! I dialed with my nose! My poor penis

Is ready to fall off and that woman, that mistress,

Left with all my money, escorted by her new slave.

Now I am penniless except for this collar and cuff

Ensemble made in China. I promise I'll be good, ma'am!

Save me and get me out of this humiliating bind!

Do I hear sirens? Oh save my penis from the bind

I put it in! Rid me of this slave-wear! I'm free, ma'am.

Thank you for saving me from the mistress and the cuff!

I like playing with 2nd person perspective. That's what this piece is all about.

Your heart thrums so hard it might rip through your chest. Each beat is as rapid as a hummingbird’s heartbeat. Your eyes are ink spots; your eyeballs are dilated with fear in the dark room. You fight against the sisal rope that binds your wrists to your ankles. Your panties are wet, but you don’t realize that.
The black leather hand wipes away a tear careening towards your hairline. The owner of that hand breathes with calm focus, savoring your terror. You see the knife he flicks open. You can’t see his smile behind the leather mask he hides behind.
You try to stifle your breath as he tickles your throat with the tip of the blade. A red scratch blooms on your flesh as he cuts through the thin dress fabric. It cuts as if it is softened butter. For a moment you are outraged that he has destroyed your favorite dress. You bought it at full price. Then you remember that more is at stake. “Please, stop. Please!” You beg, barely able to choke out the words.
He feels the bulge in his pants grow. He was wondering when you would start begging. He wants to hear more pleading, not that it will do any good. He pushes two fingers into your panties, shoving them in your unwilling wet cunt. You want to close your legs; you want to kick him, but he has secured your limbs well. You’re really enjoying this, slut, he’s thinking as he watches your face while he finger fucks you. He knows you feel humiliated; he wants you to feel like the whore he knows that you are.
He slashes the sides of the panties so he can push them further into your pussy. It feels scratchy as the fabric consumes your juices. That’s what he wants. He doesn’t stop pushing the panties inside you until they completely disappear. He wants them to marinate while he does other things to you.
He moves away from you. You wonder if this is some sort of reprieve. His back is turned while he rummages through some items on a nearby table. You are trying to make use of this break. You are trying to slip your hands out of the rope shackles, but they only seem to grow tighter. You can’t see the rope burns forming beneath the coils of rope, but you can feel them.
He returns and slides between your legs. Sweat glistens on your chest, beneath your boobs, on your neck, under your arms. The smell is intoxicating. It mingles with the leather around the mask as he leans in to kiss your neck and suckle your nipples. You see the clamps when he dangles them. First one nipple is imprisoned and then the other. A chain unites the clamps. You choke back a cry from the sharp pain that is easing into a dull compressed pain. He embraces you, pushing your tits against his chest. Tears are falling freely now. You feel so frustrated at your weakness, your vulnerability. You feel his teeth seeking the flesh at your throat. They pierce you and you scream out, but not loud enough to deter him from his work.
It becomes clear to him you will become more vocal. He pulls the panties out of your cunt and shoves them in your mouth. You can taste your own juices, smell them. You feel empty down there. He has returned to biting you. He bites the other side of your neck, pausing to let his teeth sink into you. He is a wild beast who has found the most delectable prey. He intends to savor every morsel.
Lower and lower he leaves his bites. All around the clamps teeth marks and bruises bloom. He scarcely notices as he moves to mark you fleshy upper arms, your belly, your thighs. Soon he buries his head between your legs. You expect him to bite the most tender flesh, but instead his tongue darts inside you. His fingers push those lips open so he can reach deeper in. You can hear the juices he is lapping up. Your body betrays you. Your face is red. Your cries are muffled as he sucks your clit so hard it hurts…almost as if he were biting it off.
He is ready now. He admires how disheveled he has made you. He stands up and unfastens his pants. His cock springs out ready for action. He wants to smack your face with it, shove it down your throat, feel you choke it down, but one look tells him to keep the panty gag in. He brings a gloved hand hard against the side of your face. Leather sounds so much nicer than bare flesh slapping against bare flesh. You look dazed. Not so defiant now. He approves. The cock finds its target with ease. He is mounted and he uses the chain that tightens the clamps as a rein. “Fuck me, you little whore!” He cries out, pulling them tight enough that one of the clamps slips uncomfortably. He doesn’t notice it. He hovers over you, slapping your face with each thrust. He stops. He is still inside you. You move beneath him, hoping to assuage him.
He pulls out of you. He reaches for a vibrating dildo. It’s somewhat larger than he is. He hopes it is large enough to make you feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t bother with lube. You are wet enough. He fucks you with it, turning it on the highest speed. “Your ass is going to feel so good,” he says, “when I rip it open,” His cock is looking for the desired opening. You’re shaking your head, protesting. Your ass tightens, hoping to not permit entry.
He grabs the paddle he used on you earlier. There are some beautiful welts. You freeze when it lands across your ass. He is glad he tied you in this position. He doesn’t want to wait anymore. He positions his cock over the tight pink ring. He watches her face as he slowly pushes, forcing her ass to open. Her eyes are so wide and he can hear her muffled protests. It is a great sport to force a woman to feel every inch of a cock tearing open her ass. He savors how tight it is, relishing the vibrator in her cunt.
Your holes are full. It hurts and you can’t stop thrusting, responding to his movement. He’s calling you a slut, cunt, whore. He is squeezing your tits, clamps and all in his fists. It’s so much sensation all at once. Just then he pulls off the clamps. Your back arches and you know you are having an orgasm. He’s watching you writhe beneath him, feeling the juices leaking from around the vibrator that is staying inside you only because of his position.
He squeezes your aching tits, smacks them before bringing his mouth down on the right tit and biting hard. You feel his body shudder. He gasps, taking a mouthful of your left tit and biting. Your gagged cries seem distant to him as his cum fills your ass, still squeezing and pumping every last drop from his body.
He collapses on you, breath heavy and warm on your chest. He gets up, lets the vibrator slip out and fall to the floor. He exits the room, leaving you bound ready for further usage.

Day two began with laughter and admiring bruises incurred at the play party the night before. After breakfast we settled down to the day’s classes.

The first class was a discussion on assertiveness. We talked about the importance of being assertive as a submissive. The conversation turned to how assertive females are regarded in the workplace (a threat or bitchiness for some men, strong when it comes to other female supervisors). There was also a discussion of being assertive as a submissive and how challenging it can be to be assertive and submissive at the same time when it comes to one’s dominant. It can be a tightrope act and it can take some time figuring out the best way to communicate with one’s dominant when you are assertive.

The next class was taught by Dan and we talked about ways of deepening our kink experiences by getting to know ourselves better. A couple of the things I took away from this discussion was that meditation can be a useful tool to understand ourselves and creating a user manual about yourself is a terrific idea. Lady Moonfyre sat in on the discussion and suggested an addition to the user manual, an elevator pitch. Since I’ve spent most of the month talking about creating elevator pitches and introductions, I have at least somewhere to begin:

Hi, I’m Laurie. I’ve been a belly dancer, burlesque dancer, and knitter. I love studying women’s forgotten history and Shakespeare, who was a champion of bold women. I love inspiring others to be fierce and live with passion.

Obviously in a kink environment I’ll want to add that I’ve been in the kink lifestyle for fifteen years primarily as a submissive.

The other suggestion I loved was to keep a joy journal. I’ve been researching this a bit since I got home and discovered that it’s also a tool that can help depression.

The third class was taught by Dan and Dawn and it was about Sexual Ritual. The discussion focused on how to employ the senses for a deeper spiritual connection. The conversation began talking about sexual healers and sacred sexuality, primarily the Temple of Venus and Qadishtu. More info can be found here: http://youareatthecrossroads.com/potq/. I really enjoyed the different suggestions for using touch, sight, taste, smell, and hearing to deepen the connection you have with another person—whether it’s in a scene or with whom you are in a relationship. There was further emphasis on mindfulness as well.

The final class was a sort of Q&A with Dan and Dawn. It was fun to wrap things up with this class.

I was invited to participate in part of the Erotic Awakenings podcast that evening. Dan and Dawn wanted to know more about a terrific thing we have here called The Wasatch Academy for the Refinement of Ladies and Gentlemen of Leather. It’s a finishing school for leather folk.  Here’s the link to the podcast: http://eroticawakening.libsyn.com/ea390-wasatch-academy-for-the-refinement-of-ladies-and-gentlemen-of-leather

It’s great to hear Dan and Dawn discuss what they thought of the weekend. It’s also been fun to see Lady Moonfyre’s posts in the weekend retreat group on Fetlife asking about the next one…which isn’t even in the planning stages yet! There’s more I’ll explore in a later blog post, but this gives you an idea of how amazing this retreat is. It’s a profound experience and C. and I are discussing ways we can integrate some of the stuff we discussed into our relationship.

NLA-Utah’s weekend retreat is an event unlike anything else I’ve experienced. It’s called a retreat but it’s more like an intensive in that participants and presenters are encouraged to dig deeper inside themselves and their relationships.

Two years ago was the first weekend retreat. It was an event that was in the works for at least two years before it happened. That first event was emotionally intense for at least half the people who attended (most of the submissives/slaves had some sort of epiphany and many doms had similar reactions). As soon as we knew about this year’s event we were ready to buy our tickets simply based on the first weekend retreat.

Most events are held at convention centers or hotels. This means that for at least part of the time—the drive to the event, while going to find meals, etc. you may not be in a kink friendly environment. This weekend retreat was all inclusive so participants don’t need to leave the space or their kinky headspace for the entire weekend.

Friday was the beginning of the retreat. It began with people finding their rooms (there is a room with queen size bunk beds! QUEEN SIZE BUNK BEDS! SO AWESOME!) and ogling the massive space and the magnificent view. It’s a day for getting into the right head space, meeting people, and relaxing. In the evening there was a formal reception where the special guests were introduced and the rules were gone over (i.e. don’t be a dick). Our special guests were Dan and Dawn from the Erotic Awakenings podcast and Lady Moonfyre, a presenter a group of us met at the kink event Conception in British Columbia (another event that I highly recommend).

Saturday we broke into two tracks for most of the day: the dominant track and the submissive track. Participants could go to either track and mix and match. Since I consider myself some sort of submissive, I opted for those classes so I’ll just be writing about those classes.

The first class was a discussion about being a submissive and communication. We talked about how while we know how important it is to communicate our needs, it’s a lot harder in practice for many of us. There was a discussion about the challenges of communicating in a polyamorous relationship. We shared our own tips for effective communication.

The second class was about how mindfulness can improve your ability to serve your dominant. Dawn made a very convincing case for daily meditation and the value of focusing on the moment. Mindfulness can be a terrific tool to help us calm down and savor the moments we have with one another. This is definitely something I need to utilize in my everyday life.

The third class of the day was after our delicious lunch. Lady Moonfyre talked about role playing and how to make things happen even when our bodies (and state laws) might not let it happen. She emphasized the importance of involving senses other than eyesight to set the scene. It’s really amazing how if sight is taken out of the picture how easy it is to make a believable scene, for instance, if you have the fantasy of being taken to your office and being fucked that’s more than likely going to get you fired (even if it is on a weekend…you never know). But, if you’re blindfolded and driven around a bit before being led into a place that smells like your office, has a rolling chair and a desk, you can approximate the sensation of being in your office (extra points for printer and computer sounds, maybe even find a recording of people typing). There was also an emphasis on the value of sharing our fantasies with each other so we can inspire one another and help each other figure out how to make crazy awesome scenes happen. Most of us are creative sick fucks and we love collaboration!

The last class of the day was Stoking the Fire also taught by Lady Moonfyre. For this class everyone came together to talk about ways of keeping our passion alive and finding ways of being creative in long term relationships. It was a great way to end the classes for the day.

Imagine a lovely mountain retreat. A cabin overlooking a lake and surrounded by pine trees. The only way in is through a security gate and then up a steep hill that is nearly impossible to traverse in the winter. Secluded. Scenic. Charming.

Now imagine this cabin is bigger--it's not your modest cabin. It's the largest log cabin in the country. Imagine that you are with forty-something of your favorite kinky people, maybe a few people you don't really know but they are clearly just as sadistic as the rest of your pals. Throw in a few phenomenal presenters-- Dan and Dawn from the Erotic Awakenings podcast and Lady Moonfyre from Vancouver.

That's just a little taste of what I'm doing this weekend. I know you're jealous. If you're good I'll tell you more about my weekend next week.

I thought it would be fun to create a kinky bucket list. I've done some pretty awesome things like being tortured among redwoods and being a human piñata, but there are so many more things I'd like to do! I'd like to hear other people's kinky bucket lists as well!

Kinky Bucket List

 1. Abduction and fantasy Rape scene 

2. Alien Abduction Scene

3. Being shared/ temporarily given to someone

4. Blindfolded and forced to suck multiple cocks

5. Bound like a puppet so limbs can be moved in different positions

6. Breast and genital torture scene

7. Double Penetration

8. DP while riding Sybian

9. Fake recording of being used 

10. Fire Cupping

11. Fire Flogging

12. Forced Exhibition

13. Forced to strip dance

14. Forced to use fucking machine and give BJ

15. Gangbang

16. Have clothes ripped off with a knife

17. Humiliation scene with face slapping

18. Interrogation Scene

19. Making out outside 

20. Outside scene…tied to a tree and tortured

21. Primal play scene

22. Sensory Deprivation in a swimming pool

23. Sex by a fireplace

24. Slave for a day or weekend

25. Strait jacket and psych ward scene

26. Suspension from rafters

27. Terror Play Scene

28. Torture scene with multiple torturers

29. Vampire Scene

30. Whipped with a single tail

               He watched her furiously typing on the computer. She was still wearing her pajamas, a ragged t-shirt and a pair of baggy, thin flannel pajama pants covered with ducks. Did she know he was standing behind her, watching the curve of her shoulders and the way her hair clung and curled around her neck? He doubted she even knew he existed. He fondled the knife he carried with him everywhere. It seemed eager to be flicked open and used.

               She didn’t notice the subtle metallic click. Maybe it was drowned out by the plastic clicking of the keyboard’s keys. In two swift steps, he was across the room, grabbing her ponytail and holding the knife against her throat. “What are you—“

               “Not another word!” he said sternly. Now he had her attention, “Close your eyes.” He saw her cheeks flush. Was she angry because he disrupted her? It didn’t matter. He dragged her out of her seat, knife still pressing lightly against her throat. For a moment, he savored the feel of her warm body against his. Could she feel his dick starting to bulge between the fabrics that separated their skins?

               “Keep your eyes closed,” he ordered as he pushed her forward. In the bedroom he found the blindfold. He put the knife down long enough to put the blindfold on. As he was picking up the knife, he noticed the handcuffs on the dresser.

               She was cuffed and blindfolded. She was also fully clothed. What next? He pushed her against the wall and traced the blade down her cheek, around the curve of her jaw and ever so slightly poked the hollow of her throat…not enough to make her jump, just enough to make her gasp. It was delightful. He muffled her mouth with his hand. There was no need to do it, since she wasn’t protesting or trying to get away from him, but it turned him on even more than he was before. He ran the knife over her t-shirt. Her nipples were awake and a prime target for poking and scratching with a sharp object. She cried out when he tapped her right nipple with the knife’s tip. He smiled and wondered if she was as turned on as he was.

He watched as the knife slid easily down her torso. It was almost as if the knife had a life of its own and his hand was merely the vehicle as it circled her belly and the roundness of her hips. He held the back of the blade between her legs. “I should make you fuck the knife.” He whispered to her. He could feel the heat between her legs, even through the flannel bottoms. “Hump it,” he ordered her. It was a small blade, but she was eager to please and more than likely terribly horny at this point.

               It was time for something different. He grabbed a handful of the t-shirt and slashed it. The fabric tore easily. She gasped. Clearly she couldn’t believe he ripped her shirt. He grabbed another section of fabric and slashed it. This was fun! Soon, bits of flushed skin were peeking out from the t-shirt. He took his time, widening tears and slashing the fabric. She had stripped for him before and he had undressed her, but none of that compared to this. Slashing through the flannel pajama bottoms was a bit more difficult, but once the slashes were made, they tore easily. He cut the waistband and ran the knife down the fabric on the inside of her leg. It was like opening a birthday present. He ran the blade up her leg, leaving a faintly red scratch. He did the same thing on the other leg. He was savoring the feel of her skin, her scent, her arousal as the blade now touched her bare, intimate skin. He stepped back and took a look at her. Her face was flushed, as was what he could see of her chest. The shirt looked like something a girl would have worn in the ‘80s. He quietly put the knife on the floor. He savagely started tearing her shirt with both hands, tearing away the sleeves and opening the shirt until it was nothing more than a used rag discarded on a heap of other used rags.

               The knife was in hand again, tracing her body, leaving red designs in its wake. At times he poked her, just to make certain she wasn’t bored. It occurred to him that her back side had been completely ignored. He pushed away the pile of cloth around her feet and turned her around. The knife now had a blank palette. He poked at the very sensitive skin behind her knees. It was obviously taking all she had to not move, kick him, laugh, or scream out as he poked and scratched that area. The knife made a beeline to the sweet spot where her ass and legs met. He stood against her, the knife digging ever so slightly in her skin. He knew she wanted him to cut her. He also knew she wouldn’t be able to stand this torture much longer. The point of the knife traced the outline of her cuffed hands, her spine, and the pattern of her hair around her shoulders. Again and again he let the knife leave its mark. Sometimes it glided quickly; at other times it dragged languidly, creating a more complex design.

               He moved her to the bed and forced her legs wide apart. Her pussy had been rather neglected ever since he had stripped her. He used the blade to shave away what little stubble existed in her bikini area. He gently poked at her clit, smiling at her cries and moans.

The knife was pointed at her throat. He told her that if she moved, she’d stab herself; she better be careful, he warned. He got off the bed and took a good look at her. He could tell she wasn’t in the most comfortable position with her hands behind her back, but she was obviously more focused on the knife.

               He grabbed a sword and a toy knife in his closet. She recognized the sound of the sword being taken out of its sheath. “You’re going to fuck my sword,” he told her, well aware of the double-entendre. He took the knife from her throat and laid the long sword on her body. The blade was nearly as long as her torso. She shivered from the cold weight. He could see that she was wondering if he was serious.

               The sword was more unwieldy than he had hoped it would be. He was able to position it so she could feel the point ever so slightly touching her pussy. He grabbed the toy knife. It looked fairly real, but it wouldn’t be able to cut melted butter. He plunged it deep into her and began fucking her hard with the knife, as hard as he really wanted to fuck her, but it would have to wait. She screamed out, “You’re fucking me with that sword? It’s going to cut me!”

               He calmly replied, “But, it’s only a toy.”