Doing As I’m Told

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.

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Curvaceous Derp

I post a lot of photos of myself. I regularly receive comments from readers complimenting both the photographer’s talent and how I look, which is always appreciated and great for the self-esteem. Still, with the occasional comment suggesting that I always look ‘amazing’ I must disagree – boy howdy, is that not the case! As it is with anyone who takes and posts pictures, there are a lot of shots that never make it onto the blog.

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Sub in Space

My thoughts on sub-space have been percolating (my word for slowly evolving thoughts in the back of my head) for quite some time, but nothing crystallised until recently, when m’Lady shared a blog post from Submissive by Choice with me. Since then my notions of sub-space – how it is for me when I’m in it; how my experience is the same or different to other peoples; how, for me, sub-space is a definitely distinct experience than rope-space, small-space, fuck-space – have finally found form. It’s been difficult for me to find the words for an experience so amorphous, but having experienced it, for the most part, with three different long-term partners over the last eight years (Dionysos, Adonis, Tethys) I feel there’s enough history there for me to grope my way to a description, whether I’m entirely satisfied with how that description comes out or not.

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I get distinct pleasure from bootblacking. It’s not the act of getting shoes and boots clean and conditioned – although it is, a little. It’s more about the service aspect: being able to do this for my friends and lovers. It’s also sensual, and a little sexual too.

I’ve been improving my blacking skills for a number of years now, and my kit has increased, and my routine settled, over that time. I’ve found myself a case that fits what I consider ‘the bare essentials’ into it; I’ve stumbled across a foot stand so people can rest their foot on it (or on my leg, as they choose).

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Lay Your Hands On Me

Today is day seven – the final day – of the Seven Wonderful Sins celebration, and the delectable focus for today is on LUST. 

And being me, I asked lots of friends and lovers to give me a hand or two …

There are click-throughs on all images – don’t miss out!

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Happiness Overflow

Purring would seem to be, in her case, an automatic safety valve device for dealing with happiness overflow. – Monica Edwards

Sometimes you just want to play – to frolick and pounce and bat things around. So what better than to be a kitten? Adonis recently purchased a gorgeous outfit from Kitten Cream, and was kind enough to let me try it out. Now I think I want a set of my own!

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Steel and Smiles

After busting my back a few months ago and wearing my pale pink corset practically daily for weeks, I discovered that plastic boning really isn’t strong enough to hold my voluptuous curves in check – I’m sure that’s a surprise, right? So I embarked on a search to find, fit and purchase myself a proper steel-boned corset for myself.

I found an utterly gorgeous one, in an Edwardian Stripe style – but by the time I’d done so, I was so sick of having to wear a corset that I took the opportunity my healing back offered (and the strongly worded advice of the osteopath to not, so my back would not rely on one for support), and tucked it away until the right occasion. Which was a play party!

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Torment and delight

What’s a girl to do when her best friend, her pet, and her ex-lover-but-very-good-friend all gang up on her? Well it turns out that this girl will shriek a lot, have (eventually) one hell of an intense orgasm, and finish up giggling like an loon and looking like this:

You’ll have to wait until Wednesday to see how they did it… but here’s a sneak audio peek:

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Streaming, slipping, sliding. Hot water and warm flesh, damp hair and the taste of chlorine and ephemeric bubbles. I lie back, head resting against hard plastic, while you slip (slick) between my legs. You kneeling, worshipping, bubbling breath up past my belly as you dip below to take me in your mouth.

Your tongue is hotter than the water.

Slipping, sliding, streaming. I buck hard (making a bruise on my hairline, which I find tomorrow), spasm over you. You rise to breathe and I caress hair out of your eyes. You rise to breathe and I kiss you, give you my air. You rise to breathe and then sink below again, suckle me. I cannot stop the shudders that move from clitoris to head, cunt to toes, groin to heart. Your hands rest on my waist, so I cannot float away and lose myself completely.

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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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