Dear Santa,
I know I have been oh so naughty this year (and every year) but I am
hoping you can see past the shin kicking, tongue out sticking, rope
tying, subspace flying shenanigans to the good girl I really am, under all that delicious naughtiness.
I work so hard Santa, I do! I am studying like crazy and have gotten
several scholarships and awards, and you know at my age it is difficult
to stay in school, but Santa!! I did!! Third Year!! Surely that is a
good girl sorta thing, right?
And I take good care of my family, I am responsible, pay my debts,
follow the rules and prioritize the health and well-being of those in my
family (myself too!) over fun and games.
I try very hard to be a good person, to not hurt anyone, to be there
with a ready smile for those around me, to help where I can and
empathize and be supportive of those in need.
Come on, Santa, surely you and your silly elves agree, I have been OH So Good. So this year, please, Santa , please!! Do Not leave me coal this year!! I will happily take my spankings for whatever naughty silliness you are upset about, I Will!!
But please, please Santa, I deserve a gift this year!! I would be ever grateful she bats her eyes sweetly
if you would bring me my new rope book (Douglas Kent, sky, please
please please) some carabiners (for.. uh... hiking and stuff) and some
undyed hemp or jute rope, 6mm.
And Santa? If you would like to see some more naughty
behaviour from this good girl, you could bring me some thongs, a hot wax
kit and a new paddle, that one with the stingray skin on one
side...mmmm...
Saturday, 22 December 2012
Wednesday, 14 November 2012
When the rope seduces me...
As we sit there talking I can feel myself becoming more and more
focused on that length of rope I have been absentmindedly let slide
through my fingers. Each fiber of the rope feels as if it is more
pronounced than it as a moment ago, there is a sensation of warming
where the rope caresses my skin, sliding, rough and smooth, gently
abrasive, leaving my hand tingling.
I turn to face FHB, as he is talking, and I have this moment of disorientation, as I am looking at his sexy frame as a rigger, imagining what I could do with this rope, did he let me-and that image is for a moment superimposed my vision of him... I smile wryly, amused, because while he often lets me practice on him he is NOT a bottom, nor does he get any glee from rope, in his hands or on his person.
BL says something, and what little focus I have left shifts to him, the rope still sliding, fibers catching on my skin, yet sliding ever so soft and wicked... hmm?? What did he say??
I put the rope down beside me and concentrate a little... follow the conversation, participate.. And I am doing good... Right?? But when bk says something and I make eye contact I am suddenly very aware that I have picked the rope back up and continued my tactile junky fix-and suddenly I very clearly see what this rope should be doing.
This very pretty pink hemp rope that is stroking my hand, sliding across my forearm and pooling sinfully at my feet should be winding itself over her skin instead... wrapping around her waist, cinching just on this side of good... Then down and through her legs, creating a cradle to lift her buttocks just so... tightening just a bit here, more there... And one wrist fastened here, elbow there....
And maybe.. yes that purple rope... it just wants to slide up her abdomen, wrap itself over her rib cage, asymmetrically binding one breast, this knot right there... this one just off kilter... now cinch it tight... I can hear that amazing soft squeak she makes when you startle her in a good way... Yes, this rope can now bring that foot up... just so.. bind bind... and the leg.. bind bind... more rope....back to pink, this arm now... it needs to be like this... secure it.. double column tie... and that foot like this... with purple... secure it, double column tie...
I can see it, the whole time they are talking.. I can feel my heart beat slow down, the feel of the rope sliding through my fingers, the tension, the warmth of her skin... I can hear her sounds, the rasp of the rope...
I can see it... the finished picture, arm and leg fully suspended, body partially, the position looking so impossibly uncomfortable but made peaceful by the rigging... Her form swaying slightly on the ropes, that glazed look a rope bunny gets that makes me feel... so... damn. just so damned good.
I stand up abruptly, obviously not in time with conversation, judging by the startled looks everyone gives me... I shrug.. Socially awkward?? Me?? yup...
I put aside that vision a wee bit, and show BL and FHB the tie we are here for... I demonstrate on bk, trying not to yank the rope too tight just to hear that sound, ignoring the seductive song the rope is singing I do what I am supposed to do, grinning to myself, even as I am picturing what else this rope can do.
And so we learn the tie we came to learn. We practice the tie we came to learn. BL ties on bk, FHB ties it on me, the tightening of the rope on my own skin just adds to the song in my head. The whole time I am just dancing inside to a different song-being seduced by the rope.
I turn to face FHB, as he is talking, and I have this moment of disorientation, as I am looking at his sexy frame as a rigger, imagining what I could do with this rope, did he let me-and that image is for a moment superimposed my vision of him... I smile wryly, amused, because while he often lets me practice on him he is NOT a bottom, nor does he get any glee from rope, in his hands or on his person.
BL says something, and what little focus I have left shifts to him, the rope still sliding, fibers catching on my skin, yet sliding ever so soft and wicked... hmm?? What did he say??
I put the rope down beside me and concentrate a little... follow the conversation, participate.. And I am doing good... Right?? But when bk says something and I make eye contact I am suddenly very aware that I have picked the rope back up and continued my tactile junky fix-and suddenly I very clearly see what this rope should be doing.
This very pretty pink hemp rope that is stroking my hand, sliding across my forearm and pooling sinfully at my feet should be winding itself over her skin instead... wrapping around her waist, cinching just on this side of good... Then down and through her legs, creating a cradle to lift her buttocks just so... tightening just a bit here, more there... And one wrist fastened here, elbow there....
And maybe.. yes that purple rope... it just wants to slide up her abdomen, wrap itself over her rib cage, asymmetrically binding one breast, this knot right there... this one just off kilter... now cinch it tight... I can hear that amazing soft squeak she makes when you startle her in a good way... Yes, this rope can now bring that foot up... just so.. bind bind... and the leg.. bind bind... more rope....back to pink, this arm now... it needs to be like this... secure it.. double column tie... and that foot like this... with purple... secure it, double column tie...
I can see it, the whole time they are talking.. I can feel my heart beat slow down, the feel of the rope sliding through my fingers, the tension, the warmth of her skin... I can hear her sounds, the rasp of the rope...
I can see it... the finished picture, arm and leg fully suspended, body partially, the position looking so impossibly uncomfortable but made peaceful by the rigging... Her form swaying slightly on the ropes, that glazed look a rope bunny gets that makes me feel... so... damn. just so damned good.
I stand up abruptly, obviously not in time with conversation, judging by the startled looks everyone gives me... I shrug.. Socially awkward?? Me?? yup...
I put aside that vision a wee bit, and show BL and FHB the tie we are here for... I demonstrate on bk, trying not to yank the rope too tight just to hear that sound, ignoring the seductive song the rope is singing I do what I am supposed to do, grinning to myself, even as I am picturing what else this rope can do.
And so we learn the tie we came to learn. We practice the tie we came to learn. BL ties on bk, FHB ties it on me, the tightening of the rope on my own skin just adds to the song in my head. The whole time I am just dancing inside to a different song-being seduced by the rope.
Monday, 12 November 2012
Slave Girl
I am woken rudely by a hand twined in my hair, lifting me, causing me to gasp in pain and struggle to get on my feet.
"Wha-?" I begin to speak, but my mouth is slapped firmly, halting my words. The message is clear. I am to be quiet. The hand, tight in my hair, so incredibly tight, steers me and I stumble in what I hope is the right direction.
My bare feet pad loudly on the cold floor, and I wonder where I am. Surely this is a prank, people just do not get kidnapped like this in the real world... right?
I am shoved forward and I raise my bound hands to catch myself only to feel other hands catch me and steady me, lifting me and swinging me about, then standing me up again. Once I am steady, they drop away, leaving me standing there, tired and scared.
I strain to hear... Footsteps fade away. I can hear breathing. One person? More? I flinch when hands are unexpectedly on my wrists, raising them high. I hear a "clink" and my hands are fastened, above my head. I flinch again as hands pull the cloth from my eyes. I blink in the bright light at the man in front of me. WTF... I don't know this person. I whimper in fear as he leans forward my eyes glued to the knife he holds.
He smiles evilly at me, then, when I flinch away, he barks, "hold still". I freeze, eyes squeezed shut. I feel a tug, but no pain. I peek.
Ahhh... he is cutting away my clothes... oh my..
I stand there, trembling, as he cuts away every last scrap of clothing, my eyes closed in shame, I tug on my wrists, helpless to cover myself. Eventually I open my eyes, and see that I am chained to a hook in the ceiling, standing beside a floor drain. I turn my head and see a hose, a table with towels and bottles upon it.
I hear footsteps and turn my head to see a woman walking towards me. I don't recognize her, either. She doesn't make eye contact with me at all, but rolls up her sleaves and grabs the hose and a bucket, then turns back to me.
"Who?" I begin, only to flinch as she smacks my mouth. Got it.. no talking...
She goes about the process of scrubbing me, from head to toe, using sweet smelling soaps and vigorous scrubbing with a loofah that leaves my skin tinging and near abraded. The water is slightly cold. The whole situation seems so surreal, I scarce know what to do with myself besides shiver miserable, small whimpers escaping with the occasional tear.
She leaves me standing there, miserable and wet, only to return quickly with the man, who walks in, moves the bucket so it is upside down and beside me, then lifts me off the hook. He sets a foot on the upturned bucket, then tosses me face down over his bent leg, so that I dangle there, fingertips barely touching the floor. I struggle a bit at the feel of fingers upon my now very exposed genitals, but the firm shake I get is enough to have me settle down.
I feel fingers probing me, then something very cold and metal is pushed inside me. There is a warm rushing sensation and I realize it is a douche, water filling me. I whimper again, shamed beyond belief as the water trickles, nearly dieing of shame when he turns me, and by pressing on my abdomen forces me to eject the water. ewwwwww...
This is repeated a few times, then suddenly fingers are pressing something wet and cold against my ass. I go rigid, then fight to relax, knowing that resisting won't help me.. I would give anything to be able to hide my face as I feel the nozzle enter, and the pressure of water filling my bowels. As the pressure increases I make sounds of distress, trying to not shame myself.. Just when I think I am beyond hope, I am turned over and pressed over the bucket.. (oh gawd... nooo....) I feel the liquid expel and am horrified, my eyes squinched shut.
more cold water is sluiced over me, and I stood and toweled off, my hands once again hooked above me. Oil is rubbed into my now dry skin, warming me slightly. A collar is placed around my neck, with a strap that runs from it to the middle of my back. My hands are released, wrists rubbed for a bit, then refastened to the end of the strap. I am then nudged to follow the man, with the woman walking behind me.
I am taken to a room. The room is all dark reds and browns, with only a few furnishings. There is a small table and one armless chair, a narrow padded bench, and a couch.
I am led to the center of the room and the woman poses me, spreading my legs, tilting my head slightly before she leaves the room.
The man stands just inside the door, smirking at me as I stand there.
Then there is a knock, the man goes out. He comes back in with a strip of cloth, which he binds over my eyes. I stand there for a few minutes, then there are hands on me, making me flinch.
Hands explore my skin, touching every inch, pressing, pinching, patting, smoothing. Every toe is touched, my belly ring tugged, my nipples pinched and rolled. Hands are on my face, fingers in my mouth, touching my teeth, my tongue as I tremble. a finger is shoved inside me, and I gasp. The finger is removed, and I am tugged and pushed until I am face down on what I think is the bench. My hands are untied from behind me and refastened elsewhere.
Then I feel something, I know not what, being pressed inside me. It fills me, as I struggle and whimper, unable to do shit about it.
Then something is pressed elsewhere...
To be con't
"Wha-?" I begin to speak, but my mouth is slapped firmly, halting my words. The message is clear. I am to be quiet. The hand, tight in my hair, so incredibly tight, steers me and I stumble in what I hope is the right direction.
My bare feet pad loudly on the cold floor, and I wonder where I am. Surely this is a prank, people just do not get kidnapped like this in the real world... right?
I am shoved forward and I raise my bound hands to catch myself only to feel other hands catch me and steady me, lifting me and swinging me about, then standing me up again. Once I am steady, they drop away, leaving me standing there, tired and scared.
I strain to hear... Footsteps fade away. I can hear breathing. One person? More? I flinch when hands are unexpectedly on my wrists, raising them high. I hear a "clink" and my hands are fastened, above my head. I flinch again as hands pull the cloth from my eyes. I blink in the bright light at the man in front of me. WTF... I don't know this person. I whimper in fear as he leans forward my eyes glued to the knife he holds.
He smiles evilly at me, then, when I flinch away, he barks, "hold still". I freeze, eyes squeezed shut. I feel a tug, but no pain. I peek.
Ahhh... he is cutting away my clothes... oh my..
I stand there, trembling, as he cuts away every last scrap of clothing, my eyes closed in shame, I tug on my wrists, helpless to cover myself. Eventually I open my eyes, and see that I am chained to a hook in the ceiling, standing beside a floor drain. I turn my head and see a hose, a table with towels and bottles upon it.
I hear footsteps and turn my head to see a woman walking towards me. I don't recognize her, either. She doesn't make eye contact with me at all, but rolls up her sleaves and grabs the hose and a bucket, then turns back to me.
"Who?" I begin, only to flinch as she smacks my mouth. Got it.. no talking...
She goes about the process of scrubbing me, from head to toe, using sweet smelling soaps and vigorous scrubbing with a loofah that leaves my skin tinging and near abraded. The water is slightly cold. The whole situation seems so surreal, I scarce know what to do with myself besides shiver miserable, small whimpers escaping with the occasional tear.
She leaves me standing there, miserable and wet, only to return quickly with the man, who walks in, moves the bucket so it is upside down and beside me, then lifts me off the hook. He sets a foot on the upturned bucket, then tosses me face down over his bent leg, so that I dangle there, fingertips barely touching the floor. I struggle a bit at the feel of fingers upon my now very exposed genitals, but the firm shake I get is enough to have me settle down.
I feel fingers probing me, then something very cold and metal is pushed inside me. There is a warm rushing sensation and I realize it is a douche, water filling me. I whimper again, shamed beyond belief as the water trickles, nearly dieing of shame when he turns me, and by pressing on my abdomen forces me to eject the water. ewwwwww...
This is repeated a few times, then suddenly fingers are pressing something wet and cold against my ass. I go rigid, then fight to relax, knowing that resisting won't help me.. I would give anything to be able to hide my face as I feel the nozzle enter, and the pressure of water filling my bowels. As the pressure increases I make sounds of distress, trying to not shame myself.. Just when I think I am beyond hope, I am turned over and pressed over the bucket.. (oh gawd... nooo....) I feel the liquid expel and am horrified, my eyes squinched shut.
more cold water is sluiced over me, and I stood and toweled off, my hands once again hooked above me. Oil is rubbed into my now dry skin, warming me slightly. A collar is placed around my neck, with a strap that runs from it to the middle of my back. My hands are released, wrists rubbed for a bit, then refastened to the end of the strap. I am then nudged to follow the man, with the woman walking behind me.
I am taken to a room. The room is all dark reds and browns, with only a few furnishings. There is a small table and one armless chair, a narrow padded bench, and a couch.
I am led to the center of the room and the woman poses me, spreading my legs, tilting my head slightly before she leaves the room.
The man stands just inside the door, smirking at me as I stand there.
Then there is a knock, the man goes out. He comes back in with a strip of cloth, which he binds over my eyes. I stand there for a few minutes, then there are hands on me, making me flinch.
Hands explore my skin, touching every inch, pressing, pinching, patting, smoothing. Every toe is touched, my belly ring tugged, my nipples pinched and rolled. Hands are on my face, fingers in my mouth, touching my teeth, my tongue as I tremble. a finger is shoved inside me, and I gasp. The finger is removed, and I am tugged and pushed until I am face down on what I think is the bench. My hands are untied from behind me and refastened elsewhere.
Then I feel something, I know not what, being pressed inside me. It fills me, as I struggle and whimper, unable to do shit about it.
Then something is pressed elsewhere...
To be con't
Monday, 22 October 2012
Ropegasm 2012
Kudos to the Ropegasm organizers for a fucktabulous event!! I love
Edmonton kink events as a rule, but this one is one of the top events I
have ever attended.
The classes were small enough for incredibly intense hand on learning, large enough to be entertaining. It was difficult to choose from the classes being offered. All the presenters were amazing!! I can now tie one and two column ties with my eyes closed, add new rope with my eyes closed, wrap up my rope several different ways, tie several different harnesses for suspension (including myself) and various other ties that I have used forever are now improved and practiced.
Rope theory!! How to care for the rope, how to understand how tension works when doing floor work, how to test a tie for suspension, how to paritally suspend, how to do inversions (not that I intend to just jump to that...)
By the last couple of classes the instructor was refuting my claim as a beginner :) (happy face)
I had the joy of practicing my rigging skills on a few different victims, two lovely ladies and my kind Sir who allowed me to practice on him in class and out, with a tolerant yet wry smile and promises of my suffering a little in exchange for his generous service as my rope dummy (his term, not mine).
I did my first suspension, suspended my own self as well, and did a fun improvisational floor tie on a sexy lady. (Sweetie, you made my night, just saying...)
I was too shy to approach people myself, but still managed to say a few words here and there. (Thank you to @WoodenTiger69 for letting me use your ring for self suspension class with Lotus Lily, that was very generous of you. And if anyone knows the lady I shared a suspension point with, thanks to you as well, for the kind words and camaraderie.)
I am saving my pennies for one of those portable suspension points from sirentiybound... Thanks to Ben for all the time and explanations as to how it works.
Here is the rope kit I purchased while there (chain is mine)
What a riot!!
The classes were small enough for incredibly intense hand on learning, large enough to be entertaining. It was difficult to choose from the classes being offered. All the presenters were amazing!! I can now tie one and two column ties with my eyes closed, add new rope with my eyes closed, wrap up my rope several different ways, tie several different harnesses for suspension (including myself) and various other ties that I have used forever are now improved and practiced.
Rope theory!! How to care for the rope, how to understand how tension works when doing floor work, how to test a tie for suspension, how to paritally suspend, how to do inversions (not that I intend to just jump to that...)
By the last couple of classes the instructor was refuting my claim as a beginner :) (happy face)
I had the joy of practicing my rigging skills on a few different victims, two lovely ladies and my kind Sir who allowed me to practice on him in class and out, with a tolerant yet wry smile and promises of my suffering a little in exchange for his generous service as my rope dummy (his term, not mine).
I did my first suspension, suspended my own self as well, and did a fun improvisational floor tie on a sexy lady. (Sweetie, you made my night, just saying...)
I was too shy to approach people myself, but still managed to say a few words here and there. (Thank you to @WoodenTiger69 for letting me use your ring for self suspension class with Lotus Lily, that was very generous of you. And if anyone knows the lady I shared a suspension point with, thanks to you as well, for the kind words and camaraderie.)
I am saving my pennies for one of those portable suspension points from sirentiybound... Thanks to Ben for all the time and explanations as to how it works.
Here is the rope kit I purchased while there (chain is mine)
What a riot!!
Wednesday, 19 September 2012
Spanking Event for COPE Sept 29
Let me present:
Angel's Spanking Academy
Angel's Spanking Academy is offering a chance to challenge their infamous spanking exam to receive full certification and grade on your spanking style!
This event is open to any persons that wish to participate and have their spanking ability "rated" in the categories of "positioning" "dialogue" "technique" and "impact" (This is over the knee hand spankings, to be clear).
Exams would take place in the COPE dungeon, September 29th. Straight back chair will be provided. Bring your own lap and hand. Bonus points for creativity, dress and demeanor.
A spanking rubric will be emailed to any that wish to participate (so that you can practice, mwahaha) and Certificates of "Novice Spanker" "Intermediate Spanker" "Advanced Spanker" and "Master Spanker" will be awarded in accordance to one's score.
This is meant to be fun! Bring your creative streak!
Anyone wanting to participate, please message me with a time slot (count on this event taking 1/2 hour, 15 minutes of that being lap-time, with time to get your certificate and marks ready) I will need to know in advance how many want to play, so that I can gauge how many other backsides besides my own will be needed. (I am a glutton, to be sure, but I only have so much skin!)
Anyone wanting to be a bottom for this event, also please message me with time frames.
Anyone who feels they are qualified to be part of the Academy's grading team please let me know!
Happy Spanking!
Sunday, 16 September 2012
Rope Group of my own!
Tonight I hosted a gathering for rope shenanigans, and oh my what fun!
I got to top, which is always highly entertaining, and tie people up... (ooooh!!) AND I was able to show off my own rope!
Fun fun!!
This is me, learning to splice rope:
Wednesday, 12 September 2012
When Reality Slaps you
Have you ever been so blissfully unaware that your perception did not match your partners, that an offhand comment from him/her is a cold slap of reality?
I have been living in a D/s relationship. A 24/7 sort of deal in which I have felt completely accepted for myself. i am loving it!
For the first time in my life I have felt that someone sees me, sees my submissive sexuality, my SAM (smart assed masochism), my compulsive need to have things 'just so', my need for control clashing for me need to submit.., that someone sees me and loves me, not in spite of these things, but because of these things...
I have never been this content, or this peaceful with myself. I have never been so relaxed about my perverse needs, my kinks, my sexuality. I have never been so self accepting.
So discovering that my perception, that he understood that my submission is part of how I tick, does not match his perception, was a hard slap that left me feeling lost, isolated and even rejected.
Seems silly now, of course, cuz it's only my knowledge that has changed... But silly or not, there I was feeling like the whole foundation for all that has been lifting me had crumbled, leaving me stranded in my own insecurities, lost in my own doubts. I felt helpless, alone and hurt.
I wept. I was afraid.
I don't want to put words in his mouth... I don't remember the exact words he said, and I am painfully aware that I do not know what he was thinking... But what I heard. what i translated his words to mean was...
Everything I feel is real is just play to him. So therefore (female brain, sigh) what is real to me, and has been holding me up is a lie. I am not accepted for who I am, I am not able to meet his needs, I am not enough. That my hidden self is just that, hidden. That he has not seen me. That he has expectations of me that I cannot meet. That I have failed. From there it was a short step to feeling rejected. I put myself out there, i had thought I had been accepted, but... If he is expecting me to drop my 'role', well in my feeling sorry for myself (and pms addled, let's not forget that) brain it seemed he was rejecting me. Not just rejecting me as in turning me down, but rejecting me for who I am.
Of course, we talked about it, after I got over myself a little. We established that my translation is not exactly accurate (lmfao). We talked a bit about the differences in our perceptions. He asked questions, I struggled to answer. He is an amazing man, really.
Now, to move forward i have to do what I wanted for myself. I have to SEE him and accept him for who he is, not a hard thing at all. But I also have to deal with my own doubts, a very hard thing indeed. I have to be ok with our differences in priorities and needs. I have to learn to be more... well.. less I guess... less submissive. Doable, right?
Nothing has changed, really, yet everything has. And it is impossible to know if that is good...
or not.
Update:
We are working on this together. I think this is amazing, really, that we can face these bumps together, when I just share my thoughts. Even when my words carry pain, he listens patiently. Even when we are both struggling with so many other things, he is there, listening.
He and I define terms differently.. soon we will be working on building our own definitions, together.
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