Posted on | March 1, 2015 | 19 Comments
I have been trying to get this Scavenger Hunt location for so long! At various times over the last few years I’ve eyed up three different spots around Auckland: in the central city, out in Albany, and on the Shore near Hylas’ place. Then finally, a few weeks ago, Hylas and I spotted that the Waitemata Fire Area Headquarters in Takapuna had been abandoned/mothballed (a new place has been set up one suburb over). Unfortunately it’s on rather a busy street – midday Saturday was not the time to get photos there.
But on a Tuesday evening as the sun was going down? Perfect.
This picture was fun to get, because we wanted to reflect me, but not Hylas. Also, it’s right by the street, so timing was important! Click through for another ‘next to the main road’ flash.
What am I standing in front of? It’s rather tall – I think it might have been used to dry out the hoses? Click through to see.
This one was great fun to get! There are big doors on both sides of the building, to let the engines in and out. Hylas went around to one side, and I was on the other, at the back of the building. Want to see them in situ? Click through!
As the sun was disappearing we managed to grab just a few more shots (also, doesn’t Hylas take gorgeous photos?). Click through for my final flash for the day.
Did you see the atrocious erotica I posted earlier today?
Posted on | March 1, 2015 | 6 Comments
aka The World’s Most Awful Euphemism Loaded Sex Scene
You can blame Chintz Curtain for starting this – and Lunabelle for encouraging it! The three of us have embarked upon a journey to write atrocious, awful, horrible erotica. Up to 500 words of it. What’s wrong with us?
So, cider at hand and phrases I want to remember to use written down in a notepad (contributions from m’Lady and Hylas are included), here’s my attempt at banging out something really really bad for the “Euph-off” we’re all doing. I would say “enjoy”, but …
(Anyone else want to embark? Hop aboard!)
Of course this is heteronormative, as part of making it terrible. Feel free to queer this as much as you can be bothered.
There was nothing but the two of them – the rest of the world had ceased to exist. As they rolled around naked, clothes ripped asunder and discarded onto the floor, she could feel her love cupcake bubbling like the Tar Pits of La Brea.
Hovering over her, he hoped she hadn’t noticed the smegma he’d missed in his swift bath, and prepared to insert his turgid stem inside her. With a swift pelvic thrust he sheathed himself, and they joined together with a cataclysmic explosion. He began to slip and slide, arms and anus clenched as he tried to keep his balance. Lubricant flowed copiously from between them, dampening his plums and the crease of his muscular thighs.
“Yes, take me around the word!” she cried, ramping up to orgasm as he moved his yoghurt gun inside her.
“It’s the apocalypse,” he responded. “There’s no world left.”
“I was talking about bursting my dam,” she replied somewhat breathlessly.
“You’re already leaking,” he said, clutching the rumpled sheets in an attempt to stay in her tightly furled flower.
“Cumming!” she yelled in frustration, her zeppelins banging against his nipples.
“You are? Already?” He looked impressed.
A volley of love juice exploded from him, as he was always polite enough to wait for a woman to orgasm first. She grimaced and groaned and glared at him.
“Where’s my shejaculation, you twit? My yaya hasn’t twinkled yet!”
He looked started, then ashamed. Losing his balance on the lubed sheets, he slid free and wilted under her gaze.
“We could always plunge your coffee bean…?”
Rolling aside, she muttered to herself. “I shouldn’t have said I’d only fuck him if he was the last man on earth!”
Posted on | February 27, 2015 | 2 Comments
It’s just one word, aimed at me like a bullet. “Come.”
I orgasm. Hard. Zero to one hundred in a few seconds.
Coming on command, as it’s known, is something I’ve been able to do for a quite a few years. Only with two partners, mind you – Adonis and m’Lady both made and make full use of the knowledge that hearing this order from them would send me over the edge. With the former it was a command often spoken when we were in a scene and I was well aroused, which is quite likely how I learned to do this: I was already turned on, and already wanting (if not needing) to come. Being ordered to do so gave me permission, and off I went like a rocket.
Now, though. Now I don’t need to be in a scene. I don’t need to be aroused. All I need to do is hear (or read) that order from m’Lady and I’m right there. The mental grooves have been carved, and I respond. This means that it doesn’t even have to be spoken aloud – handy as we’re only on Skype once or twice a week – I can receive that single word from em via instant message or text, and as soon as I see it I’m clutching and clenching in my seat, trying not to drench my knickers.
Yes, this causes people to give me strange looks occasionally. When orgasming like this I can be quiet and rather subtle (for me), but grabbing at the desk/table and shivering can only be interpreted so many ways. (If I hang my head at the same time people often think I’m having a migraine spike. Which is sometimes true if it’s a particularly strong orgasm!)
The occasional other partner has tried ordering me to orgasm, and it hasn’t done a thing for me. Which makes it pretty clear to me that it’s all tied into power dynamics, perceptions, and (because this matters too) the ability both have to growl deep and speak commandingly. When I read that word? I’m hearing it – and then my mental grooves take over.
Sometimes it’s not even the word. There was one rather memorable dinner out in Melbourne, with m’Lady, one of eir partners, and one of eir partner’s partners. Before we left the house to meet them I was informed that when a certain word was spoken, I was to orgasm – which, naturally, meant I was on tenterhooks all evening!
‘Moreover’ was the word chosen – one that’s not part of m’Lady’s everyday conversation, and yet familiar enough that it could be slipped into conversation. And yes, when it was finally spoken? I came just as hard as if ey’d lent over and whispered it in my ear.
So yes. I can come on command. (Some people believe there’s no such thing. I beg to differ.) This ‘X Man mutant ability’, as m’Lady describes it, was a learned response – all my study reading about Pavlov and Skinner confirms that for me. I’m ordered, I orgasm, I receive praise. It’s a win win win so far as I’m concerned – and it means that when I check my phone and there’s a message ordering me to orgasm? It happens before I can even think about it.
Mind bypassed. Cunt clenching. Juices flowing.
And a shakingly penned response: “Thank you, my owner. That was a great orgasm! I may need fresh underwear now…”
Posted on | February 23, 2015 | No Comments
The title is the first line from my favourite poem – but it’s also been distressingly accurate over the last month. While I’ve been getting to sleep just fine (the 3mg melatonin I’ve been prescribed for the last half-decade does the job very well), I kept waking up early. And as my various chronic ailments mean I operate best on an average 9-10 hours sleep? The 7-8 (and occasionally 5-6) I was getting was running me into the ground, and fast.
The outcome of this was I spent a lot of time mooching about achieving very little, which is a challenge when studying; losing my libido; losing all desire to write (hence the quietness here); occasionally getting hysterical upon realising I was awake AGAIN; and reading a whole lot, because I wasn’t really up for anything else.
So about ten days ago I went to my doctor, as you do when something keeps happening. Now in addition to my go-to-sleep melatonin I also have a slow-release version (2mg) which does the job over the night. It’s slowly taking effect – thankfully! I’ve also switched to drinking camomile tea after dinner, instead of my beloved Earl Grey, making a concerted effort to get my arse into bed before 10pm, and being asleep between 10:30 and 11pm.
At the other end of the night, the black-out curtains we installed at the start of January are doing a stellar job, as is the rotating fan on hot nights.
What’s the upshot? Well, I’m blogging again, somewhat sporadically. I finished my study unit and am on to the next one. The wallet took a hit, as this stuff (called ‘Circadin‘ if anyone’s curious) isn’t subsidised.
And I’m sleeping. Which is the important thing.
Posted on | February 22, 2015 | 23 Comments
Do you know what scrummaging is? If you’re in a society that’s heavily invested in rugby culture then you likely do – and for the rest of you, well, it’s a part of a rugby game, and looks very grunty.
(Did you spot the two people and dog in the background? They were throwing around a rugby ball, and occasionally glancing in our direction.)
Kiana pointed out, somewhat sensibly, that I was not doing it right. So of course we had to fix it:
Okay, so I’m still not doing it right (this is how ‘right’ should look). But if I was you wouldn’t see what I’m showing off!
This was a fun – albeit muddy – day!
Posted on | February 17, 2015 | 2 Comments
Photo courtesy of Rebels Notes
Welcome to Elust #67 -
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~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~
~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~
Posted on | February 3, 2015 | No Comments
My irregular roundup of interesting reads, found from all over the place.
Why I Hate The Word Sex-Positive: “There are lots of things I’m positive about! I’m consent-positive! I’m autonomy-positive! I’m people-being-happy-positive! But I’m not really sex-positive. I’m more sex-neutral, really. If people want to have sex, then they should have sex; if people don’t want to have sex, then they shouldn’t have sex. As long as everyone involved is happy, I don’t really feel entitled to have an opinion about whether other people have kinky lesbian orgies or hold each other’s sleeves because they’re not yet emotionally ready to hold hands.” (Ozymandias)
Examining Emotions: BDSM Under The Influence: “For some, Playing high or tipsy is the antithesis of safe or sane, and is something to be avoided at all costs. It’s a huge no-no for many (a limit, even) and is viewed as very irresponsible. For others, it’s a way to augment a good time, something that might happen spontaneously or helps relax them and provides lubrication to higher states of being . They know their limits and are okay with the risk taking that goes with playing under the influence.” (Kasai / |XCBDSM)
Procrastination Is Not Laziness: “[P]rocrastinators tend to be people who have, for whatever reason, developed to perceive an unusually strong association between their performance and their value as a person. This makes failure or criticism disproportionately painful, which leads naturally to hesitancy when it comes to the prospect of doing anything that reflects their ability — which is pretty much everything.” (David Cain / Thought Catalog)
My Bottom Line: What I Require and Expect in My Solo Poly Relationships: “I’ve found it’s absolutely essential to know what your own bottom line is. To be clear and confident about it, and not waver or cave under pressure. To not settle for, or rationalize, getting less than what you need. To not cave to pressure, manipulation or abuse. To be as flexible as you can, but to know where bending or changing would be unhealthy or destructive. And ultimately, to be willing and able to walk away from relationships which fall irretrievably below your bottom line — even if that means not having any partners, or enduring some loss.” (Aggie Sez)
Bowel and Bladder Control During Sex: ” We stay ignorant because the generic and euphemistic language erases the diversity in bowel and bladder routines. And it keeps us feeling ashamed because we understand that despite the euphemisms, if we are someone who either has no control over our bowel or bladder, or sometimes urinates or has a bowel movement during sex , we don’t fit the “norm”. ” (Cory Silverberg / About)
Norton Elissen pastel art of Monica
Posted on | January 31, 2015 | 17 Comments
I am delighted to celebrate my fourth anniversary today with m’Lady Tethys! This is also an opportunity to post a copy of my latest Title Deed (this is the fourth version – we’ve signed one every year since our first anniversary). My relationship with m’Lady is complex, comprehensive, and full of joy: we are not just owner and property, but also partner and partner – we have an overarching relationship structure which does not rely on our D/s interactions, but is intensified and increased by it. Being long-distance adds extra challenges, but we have persevered and grown together through them.
In all discussions about our kink relationship, being owner/property, and the Title Deed itself, we work on the meta level; that is, not within the dynamic but within our overarching relationship, with respect and honesty.
Back in January 2012 we signed the very first of our Title Deeds. It took us nearly eight months to put together, and we decided we wanted to formalise our o/p relationship on the anniversary of the start of our overall relationship. We spent a lot of that January finalising details, checking we’d not forgotten anything (we had!), and making sure that that this was not only what I wanted, but what ey wanted as well. There were more than a few questions about this once I’d posted about it, so there was a follow-up where I clarified what this meant to me.
In January 2013 we made quite a few additions and alterations. There were sections we had realised belatedly were necessary and useful (by belatedly, read: within the fortnight). Having lived with the Title Deed for a year, we needed to make some changes based upon what we had discovered had worked and hadn’t. As a living document, like our living relationship, it was right and good to be able to show it reflecting ourselves.
In January 2014 we simplified a fair bit. We combined some clauses, removed others. As always, we discussed language, revised statements, and occasionally reordered.
This year the changes were fairly minimal – if you weren’t paying attention you’d think it was identical. There’s been some removals and some additions, and I will mention them next to the pages in question.
Posted on | January 29, 2015 | 8 Comments
I rather like paddles. Some that I own are heavy thuddy bastards, and some are stingy light bastards. Some look and feel like they’ll deliver a thud (like that gorgeous wooden one above made by The Gunner’s Daughter) but sting incredibly instead. I’ve found that’s one of the downsides of paddles: no matter what I think they’re going to deliver when I get them, I never know for sure until someone’s whacked my bum with it.
The rubber one above I thought would be a little stingy. Turns out that it’s like being smacked with a handful of bees, as all those bits make contact – which appeals to m’Lady, but not to me so much! It doesn’t take much before I’m tapping out with my intermediary safeword and begging for anything else to be used on my rump instead.
I have rather a lot of paddles made from a variety of materials: wood, plastic, rubber and more. Many of them are pervertables, as you can see above. Your basic $2 rice spoon is a particular favourite (m’Lady is a particular fan of the heart-shaped ones, which were a gift from Kiana), but there’s also wooden spoons, table tennis bats, and of course a few rulers!
I find it interesting that while I have a number of paddles, they’re not used very often. Most of the heavier impact items I own are frequently used for bastinado, and generally paddles are too wide or too stingy for my feet. So they’re saved for my rump, and m’Lady’s pleasure.
So yes: paddles. I like them and I dislike them. Generally speaking they make me wriggle and yelp, but don’t mark me very much. But I always make sure they’re packed when I go to Melbourne!
A few posts I’ve written about paddling:
Click below to see what other people had to say about paddles!
Posted on | January 25, 2015 | 14 Comments
There are so many different ways that being owned by m’Lady makes me happy. There’s the tasks ey sets me to do – for example, for the last four weeks I’ve been emailing em links to 10 different arousing images every day (that takes a few hours on tumblr for each one, because I want to find images that not only I found hot but that also, hopefully, ey will). There’s the amazing birthday story that ey wrote for me (go read it!). And there’s the wonderfulness that comes from being in person.
These three images are from my most recent trip to Melbourne. None are particularly explicit, and yet all are utterly arousing to me in so many ways – for the memories of what led to the photograph, for the happiness I had then and have now, and the reminder that I am well-used, and well-loved, property.
What happened here? Well, after we’d relaxed for a while on the sofa, m’Lady decided ey wanted some cock worship while working on eir programming. So I got down on my knees and provided worship (and sporadically had my face fucked). Apparently it was helpful with the programming challenges too! As you can see, it led to a whole lot of drool – and a very big smile
m’Lady and I had talked for some time about having em do a cutting on me – something that only Adonis (and my lovely scarification expert Sadistic Panda) had done with me before. For a first-time cutting, m’Lady did a lovely job – this is a lambda symbol, the same as is on my ownership tag – on my upper back. It didn’t last more than a few days unfortunately (like my angel wings; it seems my back heals fast) but we both thoroughly enjoyed the process. Definitely will be doing that again!
I’m sure you will be shocked to know that this is a post-orgasm (many orgasms) face. Just seeing this makes me grin nearly as largely as I am in the photo. m’Lady knows how to use me until I’ve got no ejaculate and no energy left, and then use me just a little bit more.
Next week we renew my Title Deed!keep looking »