I love this image. Not sure why, but I do. The rope was perfect in every way. The date was perfect. Even this selfie was somehow perfect. I could live in that rope. For part of a night, I did. Happy Un-Valentine’s night to me!
The thing I love about modern notions of lingerie (especially in light of kink) is that it doesn’t have to conform to anybody else’s notion of what lingerie is, except for your own. At least I don’t think it does. I suppose, if someone decides that Dickie coveralls are lingerie then maybe that would be too wide a definition? Nah…by the dictionary, it qualifies too: lingerie [lahn-zhuh-rey, lan-zhuh-ree, -juh-; French lanzhuh-ree] noun underwear, sleepwear, and other items of intimate apparel. Archaic . linen goods in general. adjective having the qualities of lingerie; lacy or frilly. So, yeah, those Dickies coveralls could work. I admit I usually think of the more common definition – that of lacy, frilly, underthings – when I want to feel sexy. But not always. The red shorty jammies and thigh-high sport socks I wore on Saturday night (to dinner!) were not exactly what one would call lacy…Read more …
I wanted to write about this topic for Prompt 5 of Brigit Delaney’s Erotic Journal Challenge, “Hurt,” but I’m me so of course I waited too long and the link-up is closed. I’ll link you to it anyway (click the icon below) so you can read what other people wrote. There’s some powerful, heart-wrenching, and incredibly brave writing out there. People really suck sometimes. But that’s not the only way to be hurt sexually. I’m talking about “good” hurt, obviously. And if you’ve read here for any length of time, you know that pain, for me and a lot of people, can be pleasurable, or can lead to pleasure. After play tonight that started with the above picture, V and I talked about our beginnings in BDSM. And I commented on having to ask my then-husband to hurt me. At the time, he was okay dabbling in rope, spanking me…Read more …
Sunday Night, Home Again What a week I’ve had. I got very ill with a stomach bug the Tuesday before we left for Ohio, then came down with a vicious head cold Wednesday morning, the day before I was to go over to V’s before we headed out of town. It was to be our first weekend away, alone at a kink event, in almost 3 years. But instead of the pre-event debauchery I had imagined, I spent Thursday night drugged on Nyquil with a box of tissues curled up in the bed we share at his house, by turns whimpering because I felt so bad and apologizing because I felt so bad. I was medicated to the gills all the way up to Ohio in the car on Friday, although by that time the worst had passed, and 8 hours after we started out I was feeling more myself…Read more …
It’s bitterly cold in the Midwest right now. So a warm butt is what I need to start off the weekend’s festivities.
I’ve done a “panties” (or knickers for all you Brits) post for Sinful Sunday before, here in Kink & Poly. It was a number of years ago, and a completely different situation from any that I have been in since. It was a tease about a scene I had done in which W had offered my services as a paid submissive. I don’t know if I ever followed up on it and told the whole story. Regardless, the image was kind of sexy. I also did a “panties” Kink of the Week post way back when. It is a pretty good post, if I do say so myself, and also has a cute “drunk girl” pic in it, that I’d forgotten about. Check it out here (so I don’t have to repeat words.) tl;dr I’m a fan of panties. Not really a fan of going commando, unless ordered to –…Read more …
So, yeah. Here it is the (almost) beginning of the week and I am looking at my schedule for the next few days, and thinking about writing, and feeling both excited (yay, writing!) and guilty (how the fuck did I lose three straight days off work without writing? Or exercising. Or crocheting. Or, really, ANYTHING I had planned to get done??!??) My bed is soooo seductive. Especially when nighttime in my bed has been rather sucky, what with that whole “Nope, not gonna sleep til, like, 3 a.m. Or maybe 4. Yeah. 4 a.m. seems a reasonable time to go to sleep.” I know, I know, if I didn’t sleep all day I wouldn’t be awake all night. But I swear it started the other way around. “He started it!” But okay. Here we are. Where we are, by the way, is a Tuesday evening when it was too cold…Read more …
When I read the title of the prompt for this week’s Wicked Wednesday, I thought maybe it meant “technologically enhanced” sex. Like…I don’t know, with toys maybe, or VR if you’re really adventurous, or maybe fiction about sex with an android (or AS an android…a sex bot maybe? Hmm, liking that idea…) Anyway, seeing as one of my partners is definitely a technophile, I figured I could come up with something that would appeal to him and satisfy the prompt. Turns out I was wrong: the prompt is, “What technical aspect of sex do you find challenging?” Oh, well hell, there’s a lot of ways I could go here. How certain positions that everyone seems to love don’t work for me, such as 69; How the changes in my body, in its flexibility, has caused me challenges; or How certain kinds of sex (like sex in rope) that my partner…Read more …
I’ve never run into someone actually fucking me while I/he was asleep before I met V. I’d read about it, of course, in conjunction with headlines about it being used as a defense for rape, but never knew it was an actual, real, THING. People could initiate sex while sound asleep, unbeknownst to them. Whether or not that can be used as a defense, as an excuse, I don’t know. All of the times it’s happened to me, he’s always woken up somewhere in the middle, and I am always aware, as I come awake, that he is not. He really doesn’t know what he is doing, and occasionally doesn’t remember, if I rebuff him in the beginning. The morning after I will say, “Do you remember sleep fucking me?” And, depending on how deeply asleep he was, he’ll either have no recollection of it or a vague one, dreamlike,…Read more …
We played in rope last night. Well, I was in rope. He’s got this new hemp, quarter inch, I think? I love the smell of it, the punitive feel of it, where it puts my head. But I dislike the scratchiness. It distracts me from everything else that I am experiencing. And the size of this rope in particular – it makes being tied tight, or suspended, even more challenging. I say even more, because rope, something I love and used to feel absolutely confident in, is now something that I too often feel anxious about. It adds an element to a scene that makes it hard for me to go anywhere else but into a battle with myself, with my body, with my desire to please, to submit, versus simply trying to persevere. To last long enough to make it worth V’s time and effort to tie me. I…Read more …