At the very end of last year, I opened my email and was absolutely delighted to see a message from Molly (of Molly’s Daily Kiss) asking if she could interview me for her new podcast, the KissCast. Of course I said yes – how awesome was that?
So in early January we got together on Skype and talked enthusiastically about many things, the end result of which is this, the fourth episode of the KissCast. (I recommend the others as well – they’re great listening!) Molly was a wonderful host who asked great questions about all sorts of things. Between the laughter there may even have been some answers!
I don’t often use gags in my sexual play – for the most part I prefer to have my mouth available. But I do like having them as an option, especially during kink sessions. I know how remarkably loud I can be when I get going, and they’re good for at least muffling me a little bit!
Over the years I’ve purchased a variety of different gags, but some of my favourites have remained the simplest: a hand; bondage tape; rope. And I never, never get tired of gagging on fingers or cock…
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.
There are a lot of different things you can do with an arse as comprehensively large as mine is. While those who top me usually spank, paddle, and crop it, flogging also takes place from time to time as well – and in a long session often implements that do all types will warm my rear!
It’s important to start with a good position. I learned early on that I can’t stand or lean for long periods because I simply don’t have the energy. If it’s going to be a relatively short session I can hold onto the back of a chair for support, but for something longer I tend to be better lying over a table like so:
I’ve only played with ginger the once, on a long and depraved weekend where I had quite a lot of fun with quite a lot of things! Rather than penetrating any particular orifice (although both Dionysos and Kiana tormented me with the notion), I instead had freshly peeled sections placed directly on my clitoris, its juices slowly leeching into me and intermingling with my own.
It was a good breakdown of sadism. While Dionysos made sure I couldn’t close my legs and ensured I was extremely moist; Kiana took the ginger root and peeled it, all ready to go places. As you can see, she was clever and wore a glove, so she didn’t accidentally juice herself! (You can click above for a different view of the ‘placement’ process.)
It was one of the best types of predicament bondage I’d ever been put into, and both Dionysos and I had a blast in the process!
First there was the lovely cotton sash rope, tied beautifully to my hands and then down to the end of the bed. Next came the cuffs around my ankles, locked to a spreader bar which was extended to its maximum. Then the rope came back out and was tied to the D-rings of the cuffs (and thus my legs / the spreader bar) and roped to the headboard above my head. I was thoroughly exposed – or so I thought.
It was my evening home alone – Apollo was out gaming – so I made the most of it and indulged in some wanton and wicked self-care (also known as revelling in nakedness and masturbation).
Which meant I was extremely surprised when there was a knock on the door. I reluctantly removed my hand from its happy place, and just as reluctantly put my book of erotica aside. Still naked, I walked to the door. I could, after all, choose not to open in.
On the night of Dionysos’ wedding, I took some time out for myself. At big social events I often need to take a break, spend a little time recuperating in the presence of my own thoughts, and this was no exception. So as the guests danced and socialised and wrote funny messages on the whiteboard for the couple in question, I found myself a lovely rimu bench outdoors. I could smell the garden, see the band preparing, and hear various outdoor wanderers conversing.
For those of you come part-way through the tale, let me tell you about Dionysos. He was part of this story right from the very beginning, as together we discovered what kink was – he from the top and myself from the bottom.
Over the years, we experimented with rope and chains and orgasm denial and pegs and flogging – all sorts of wicked and wonderful things. With him we learned swiftly that I adored having photographs taken from every conceivable angle … and somehow that it was extra funny when ducks were involved.
Last week I held my second general amnesty, asking folks to delurk and say hello. Well, seventeen people got up the courage to comment and share a bit about themselves! As a thank you, each of them (and you, dear readers) get a never-before-posted image.
Are you ready for a lot of photos? Here we go!keep looking »