Cage Calm

Everyone holds a different mental image of what a dungeon will look like. Mine is informed by years of reading kink blogs, combined with years of peering over Apollo’s shoulder (and occasionally participating myself) at tabletop gaming. Which makes for an interesting mental image.

It turns out that a professional dominatrix’s dungeon, or at least the one I visited last Friday, isn’t anything at all like I expected. Even with pictures to give me an idea first. For starters, there is absolutely no way photographs can describe how big it is – and how much furniture and equipment is in there. About fifty people had shown up at the social gathering (which was considerably more than I could cope with comfortably, even though I did know about half of them), and they all fit pretty easily, with space to move about.

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Cathartic

I need to be able to let go – and it’s damned hard for me to do. Over the years I’ve had to hold on and keep it together for so long, that even awesome orgasms only bleed off a bit of it. Mostly I’m still holding on – those subconscious muscles are tensed, and often I can’t figure out how to relax them no matter what I do. Lucky for me, I have amazing partners who are there to help me.

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Dee’s birthday story

It’s my birthday, and I have received many wonderful gifts from many wonderful lovers today. But my owner and m’Lady, Tethys, has given me a very precious present: a story zie has written herself, read out and recorded for me to hear in hir own voice.

I am delighted and honoured that zie is willing for me to share the text of that story with you all. I hope you find it as arousing as I do. Enjoy!

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Endorphins

I love endorphins. And when I have lots of orgasms, or get a really good beating, or have been bitten and clawed until my brain stops whirring, then the endorphins kick in and I start to giggle and I can’t stop. Which is challenging if I’m still in the middle of being beaten – so I warn tops beforehand that I’m likely to laugh uncontrollably, and that it’s definitely not at them or their technique!

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Marked flesh – a photo essay

One of the many things I missed when my relationship with Adonis ended was his skill with sharp and pointy objects. From scratching with hat-pins to deliberate designs with porcupine quills to carefully planned and executed cuttings with scalpels, the pain and pleasure and delicious results were something I sorely missed.

I’ve chosen not to let anyone other than Adonis do that to me – it’s something peculiarly his and mine. There’s trust involved, but also the feedback of verbal and physical communication. The awareness that he knows what he’s doing and it’s turning me on but he’ll stop if I ask it, or pause if I need it.

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Topspace

I’m delighted to introduce another guest post by m’Lady, Tethys.

i’ve read and heard a lot about ‘subspace’ in the context of kink1, but not so much about what i call – and might be generally called, for all i know – ‘topspace’2.

When i’m in topspace, i feel like i’m a rutting beast glowing with power. Whereas i normally prioritise a sexual partner’s needs and desire over my own, in topspace this gets inverted: i care less about what my partner wants than what i want. i’m not in the mood for a slow mutual exploration of desires; what i want, i want now. i want to use my partner as a sexual object to give me pleasure. i want to take what i want and need and don’t really care either way whether my partner is getting pleasure from me doing so. i don’t feel it’s exaggerating to describe it as a type of high. i’m still completely responsive to safewording, but it’s more like a “magic word” which dissipates the topspace, rather than being something i process and respond to in the usual way i respond to language.

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Staked Out II

You asked for more pictures showing my staked out experience, and I am happy to oblige. But you have to read about it as well:

By the time Hylas had finished pinning me down with rope and tent pegs, I wasn’t going anywhere. Not that I wanted to! With immobilised arms and legs, a mouth full of ball-gag (and drool), and a blindfold keeping the sun out of my eyes, I was very happy indeed. Not to mentioned rather spaced out.

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Staked Out

He’d teased me with the idea for months. How he would stake me out in the bush where potentially anyone could walk past. My entire world reduced to skin and grass and trees and sky, rope and tent pegs and wicked toys.

How I would be roped in place, unable to move at all while he tormented me and eventually – maybe – brought me to orgasm.

He had a tendency to remind me of this idea whenever we were out at lunch. My knickers would get wet and my thighs would clench as he whispered in my ear what he would do to me. How I wouldn’t shout because of the gag in my mouth. How the blindfold would not only stop me getting sun-strike, but would prevent me knowing if he was working on me alone or if he had some assistance.

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Wrong turn

I enjoy getting lost. Provided I have the time to spare and a map in the car, I always view getting lost as an adventure – I am perpetually entertained when I take a wrong turn and end up where I did not intend to be. It is exciting and interesting, not to mention a great way to discover new places and new experiences.

Last Thursday, Persephone and I managed to take a wrong turn on the way to the medical centre. I should know the way by now, having driven it a dozen times, but I still managed to get us thoroughly turned around! Following our noses down completely the wrong road, we found a gorgeous view looking out over the Tamaki Estuary, as well as a carpark next to the Tahuna Torea Nature Reserve.

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Angelic

Not only is HNT up a day early (being a celebratory, table-groaning, busy-busy day on Thursday), but it’s another themed HNT – this one is three wishes.

For 13 messages, if I was able to give a gift it would be a huge fluffy duvet – with me tucked beneath it! There’s nothing like warm and squishy snuggles beneath warm (yet not stifling) covers.

To Bad Bad Girl, I wish a year of bottom adoration. Be they admiring glances; friendly pats; lascivious compliments; enthusiastic spankings; or attentive stroking – it’s a gorgeous arse, and it deserve attention!

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About Dee

Exhibitionist with words, skin and sex. Free with kisses, compliments, and friendship. Open with heart, passion, and laughter.
Labels I choose for myself: pansexual, polyamorous, fat, kinky, New Zealander, writer.
You can keep my partners and close friends not-mixed-up by reading more about them here.
I write fortnightly for GLBTI magazine Express, for whom I am also the sub-editor. I also write upon occasion for other publications!
If you want to get in touch, send me an email: curvaceous.dee@gmail.com.