On Littles Being Littles

January 28, 2016 at 12:42 (BDSM) (, , , , , )


“She’s a little.  What do you expect? “

These words make me cringe, an I wish I could say they weren’t ones I hear too often.   As a matter of fact,  I was horrified when I came to the realization that I’m a Little myself, though less Hello Kitty Little, more Wednesday Addams Little.  I’ve been to my share of events and conventions,  always making a point to avoid the Littles’ corner, as there is not an ounce of tolerance in me for bratty, whiney, petulant behaviour.  Did I act that way and not know it?

The answer was yesand no.

You see, I can be a little bratty and difficult when I want to be.  I can be cute and cuddly.  I can earn a damned good spanking or rewards when I want to.  When I want to.

I can also sit and have a rational discussion, like an adult.  No matter who my Daddy is, I can conduct myself like the mature woman I am, and he expects me to be able to do so.  We can talk politics or household issues.  We can discuss work, families, and hobbies.   I can socialize with mentamours and vanilla friends.  Why? Because I’m an adult, that’s why, and a real life relationship between adults requires it.  

I don’t know where the idea came from that Littles have found a magic loophole that allows them to shirk responsibilities, but it’s simply not true.  It’s not fair to anyone to pout or stomp my way out of an argument or into an uncomfortable situation.  It’s not fair to anyone to make anyone else pull my extra weight because I’ve decided not to be an adult when appropriate.  It’s a disservice to a partner to enable unacceptable behaviour as a person with the excuse that “Littles are gonna be Littles”, and it’s offensive to those of us who conduct ourselves like decent human beings.  

Maybe this makes me a bad Little, but I’d rather be a bad Little than a hurtful partner, but there must be an expectation that a Little knows the appropriate time and place to be a Little and when to be an adult.  That’s what separates us from actual children.

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Being Whole Again

February 24, 2015 at 02:16 (BDSM) (, , , , , )


I’ve stepped back twice in as many years.

The first time I felt like if I didn’t I would forever hate things I which I had found joy, freedom, and intimacy.  I had tried to force myself into a mold not meant for me, and it had begun to break me.   I felt trapped.  I felt suffocated.  I felt like I had to fight for my voice to be heard.   I stepped back, and for a long time I couldn’t even speak of kink or people I once considered family, causing discord with my partners, who still are all very deeply immersed in the community.

When I stepped back in it was only half of me.  I didn’t yet feel safe letting my submissive side out, so I took a sub and let my Domme side reign.  Let me tell you, friends, that can be exhausting, and there were times I just needed to be held and nurtured.

Then it happened.  I spent a night doing both, and something within me began to reawaken, because I needed both halves to be healthy to be healthy myself.  This,, the true nature of a switch.

When I lost my sub I took another half step away from the scene.  I had been responsible for him, and I had failed.  It wasn’t the same feeling of revulsion I had felt the first time.  This time it was a mourning of sorts.  He needed me, and I was helpless.

It’s been a few months now, and as I’ve branched out into a community 3,000 miles away from the one I’ve known for over a decade I find that I’m hitting a new stride.  There’s no one here who knows me as a Domme or a sub, so I’ve been able to express both with different people.

This week I found myself craving things I haven’t done in years, and it felt good.  To be able to feel the rope bites and fight against the power struggle, this is what I’ve needed for my chrysalis to be complete, because, friends, I’ve been bored, and it’s been no one’s fault but my own for being timid and patient.  Holding back had caused everyone around me to mistake me for complacent and fragile, and I couldn’t convince anyone to be what I needed it I tried.

So here I am, once again feeling desire and need for things I haven’t felt a part of me in a long time.

I’m back, and I’m stronger than I have ever been.

Aloha

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Why I Handed in My Collar or Flipping the Switch

September 15, 2014 at 21:16 (BDSM, M/S)


(Two years ago I wrote about this very same subject, and at the time I should have stuck to my guns.  I knew what I did and didn’t want then, and I knew how this would play out.  And it did.)

It all came to a screeching halt on what started as a quiet morning.  Trust.  It boiled down to trust.  I won’t drag Angelflare through the mud here; we were both at fault.  All that matters is that my security and my trust were broken, and I could no longer see myself in a collar, at least not until the issues in my marriage were mended.

I had been warned in the past that ending our D/s would be the beginning of the end of our marriage, that we had never been equals even in a vanilla setting, and that it was my choice whether or not to be happy in collar.  At the moment I handed in my collar I felt like it was that or I was going to do something harmful to myself.  It had crossed my mind, and as much as I didn’t want my marriage to end, I couldn’t fathom living one more day not being true to myself.  I had already sacrificed too much time and too much of myself for us both to still be so unsatisfied, and a lifestyle I had once loved had begun to feel like a prison.

So, we started a new dynamic.  I can’t tell you whether or not it’s saving our marriage, but I know it’s not making it any worse.  I do know that the new freedom and empowerment I feel has done nothing but reassure me that I made the right choice.  No matter where I end up I will have done what was healthy for me.

Friends, no matter what you’ve agreed to, if it’s not good for you there’s no reason to keep doing it.

I look forward to bringing you an ever-changing Sintangible who is finding her own way somewhere she’d forgotten she loved to journey.  Won’t you come with me?

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anatomy of a slave

August 23, 2013 at 00:19 (BDSM)


deep breath
clear mind
silent submission
not born of fear or weakness
but respect and commitment
all around me
i can feel them
vibrating with anticipation
alive with potential
they whisper a longing
the tools He will use
but not because He has to
it is not these tools
that bring me to my knees
but devotion and need
i weep in supplication
every inch of me pleading
not for the pang of punishment or shame
but the awakening pain in which
I find my strength
my wings
that place
that life
where all my power lies
in the passion i inspire
deep in Master’s eyes
the fire in His touch
that makes everything i am
His.
this is no collar of metal or leather
but one of love
i surrender
not because He demands it
but because He never had to
this is the path my footsteps tread
long before i found my place in them
a journey i take
where i am valued and safe
with no need to run
no secrets to hide
from what speaks deep inside me
the shadows that stir
the demons that lurk
the voices that guide me to
open myself and give in
i do
embrace who i am
i do
and dance in the flames
as a part of me burns
the part that felt ugly
damaged
and worthless
i do
and i emerge
free as a word
deep breath
clear mind
silent submission
changed
chosen
cherished
His.

English: Soldier butterfly seen in Secret Wood...

 

 

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Fire Play and What It Means To Me

February 5, 2013 at 00:54 (BDSM) (, , , , , )


Flames Rising from the Egg Cup 2

Fire is a living thing with a life and personality of its own.  It warms and transforms, but it also consumes and destroys.  Some of my best memories come from sitting around a bonfire or in front of a fireplace, but fire has a way of drawing out fears and passions at the same time.

The first time Angelflare brought up fire play I panicked.  I’ve always been very sensitive to heat and fire, and I had spent a lot of my life avoiding it, not asking someone to touch me with it.  Our first experience was rough, but something inside me was awakened.  I hated it, but I wanted more, so we kept at it.  Today it’s one of my favourite activities in and out of the dungeon.

First of all, the physical sensation of a fire massage and cupping is fantastic.  It’s warm and tingly, and it helps a lot of the muscle problems I face with fibromyalgia.  Feeling the rush of fire and hands flowing over me, the warm hand on fresh, cold skin and the soothing touch of a cold hand on just fired skin, is something that cannot be replicated.

Next there’s a mental and emotional aspect for me.  I still get a feeling of trepidation before we begin, so every session I am forced to face that fear and overcome it.  I give up control and trust Angelflare not to hurt me, and I have learned to ride the play instead of bracing for each new touch.  From there it becomes a very intimate exchange between us.

Fire play has helped me learn to embrace and control my inner fire.  Once I learned not to fear the flames or let them have power over me I was able to stop the irrational flames inside me from consuming me.  There is a warm calm within the fire, but it takes waking through it in the first place.

Then there’s the spiritual side of fire play, which is very strong for me.  Not only does the scene become a very strong exchange of energy and passion between me and Angelflare, but it helps me connect with the element of fire and my patron deity, Brighid in a way that I had not found before fire play.  The physical fire speaks to the fire within me, and quite a few times our fire sessions have become spontaneous meditation for me.  This past weekend our session turned into an impromptu Imbolc celebration and re-dedication to Brighid.  It was probably the most powerful inner ritual I’ve ever done, and it was amazing.

Fire play has taught me not to fear new things, but to embrace them.  I love watching how passionate Angelflare gets no matter who he’s cupping or firing, and I love watching the transformation on the other end of his wands, especially if it’s her first time.  He’s still finding new sensations to give me, and my last session was done by two people at once, which was unbelievable.  I can’t wait to see what he comes up with next.  Until then I will dream in fire.

 

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Beyond Awareness

December 9, 2012 at 21:02 (BDSM) (, , , , , , , )


I am typing this with my left hand.

I am not left handed.

Cgosms_2012-11-2504-03-56

I have a mid-humeral spiral fracture and radial nerve damage in my right arm that caused a blood clot and acute cellulitis.  The break will have me out of work for at least six weeks, the nerve damage could take much longer to heal.  Until then I have no use of my right hand.  I currently have no income, as even my supplemental work requires dexterity.  It’s Christmas, and we were scraping for bills as it was.

I signed a consent form.

Let me start by saying that no one is to blame for this.  Accidents happen, and with most of our serious interests it’s not a matter of “if” but “when”. Everyone involved was aware of my sensitive spots, and a plan was made in advance to ensure I was safe.  Every precaution was made that could have  been, but still, accidents happen.  I am extremely lucky my accident happened where it did, at a fetish event surrounded by community veterans.  Without the immediate attention of a great group of people with experience my memories of the events that night would have been much worse.

We’ve all been to an event at some point where we signed a waiver.  We look cute in our vinyl, lace, or leather and heels, boots, or whatever else, and we sign it without question.  How many of us take them to heart?  We’ve all heard the term “go hard or go home”. What happens when “go home” becomes “go to the hospital”?

The kink community is a huge proponent of “risk awareness” and safety, but what does that mean beyond knowing it could happen in some hypothetical situation?  It means knowing it will happen and that there is no such thing as an acceptable level of risk.  It’s all or nothing.  You don’t get to decide the severity of an accident.

My point here is not to scare anyone away from anything she enjoys  but to stress that, more than awareness, our minds should be focused on preparedness and acceptance.  If you were seriously injured during a scene right now would you be prepared to accept the real life consequences of that injury?  It’s a pretty heavy thing to consider.  Could your life, and even your relationship, survive that sort of blow?

We could not really have prepared for much of this past having medical insurance and a savings account, but we can get over those hurdles.  It’s the the people who have come together to help us do so that have made the difference between a terrible situation and one we can tolerate.  As soon as it happened our community came together to offer support, concern, and advice.  People I hardly knew before this have messaged me on Fetlife just to see how I’m healing.

Right now all the onus of running our household and taking care of me rest solely on Angelflare’s shoulders.  He’s had to keep up his end and pick up all the things I just can’t do.  Our play is severely limited, and may be for some time, and money is a thing of fantasy.  He really has stepped up to what it really means to be a Master and a husband.  He’s been patient and understanding, even when the pain and frustration make me cantankerous and unruly.  Our D/s is still in place, but he has shown me that it is not inflexible in times like these.   It’s not easy or ideal, but our family has survived worse, and that’s the only reason I accept this kind of risk with him and only with him.  I also know I can trust him to only involve dependable people where my safety is concerned, and because of that I feel as secure as I do with the more high risk play.

Am I turned off to kink?  No way!  Will I consider a short term disability plan in addition to my long term?  Definitely.  This life is about balance.  Right now I’m frustrated and a little concerned, but as all things in life this is fluid.  I will take it as a wake up call and a learning experience and move on with a dedication to my D/s and a firm grasp on just how serious it is to keep a calm head about risk and safety before, during, and after any type of incident.  That’s all we really can do, friends.

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A Very Merry Sinbirthday to Me

August 11, 2012 at 22:03 (BDSM) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , )


birthday party

It all started with a Tweet.

This year I spent my birthday at the Floating World, a weekend long fet event.  Being my first, I was excited, and admittedly a little nervous, but I went into the mode in which I work the best; pack and prep.  Once that was done, the only recourse I had was to make sure I made an appropriate entrance into the realm of local kink events.  The fact that it would be my birthday had already given Angelflare delicious ideas, and I was anxious to see how the weekend would treat me.

Then there was Twitter, where one of my followers is The Floating World.  I very naively had sent them a Tweet asking if they had any packing sugegstions for newbies, obviously forgetting the kind of smart-assed crowd our community can be.  I received an answer, albeit an entirely unhelpfull one, suggesting newbies be wraped in bubble wrap.  “Not because they’re fragile.  We just like bubble wrap.”    With that in mind, I got to work.

What I ended up with was this:

And so, our adventure began!

I arrived Thursday night straight from work, still in my work uniform and exhausted from the ride, which included two SEPTA trains and a New Jersey Transit double-decker.  I managed to gt us unpacked and organized, double-checked our class schedules, and hit the bed running with dreams of suspended sugarplums dancing in my head.  My classes of the day included tips in suspension for curvy girls, M/s philosophies, and service positions.  I met some new people, made some new contacts, and had some insightful conversations.  I ran into a few people I recognized, which is still a rare but joyous thing for me, and managed to find my foothold in a somewhat overwhelming environment.  I felt immediately upon entering the facility that I was somewhere I belonged, but by the end of the day I felt like I was not going to just follow; I was going to flourish!

That night Angelflare decided it was time to debut my creation, and for him to unveil his plans to honour my birthday.  I bounced in my ebullient plastic skirt as people stopped me to ask for a pop or two, and I considered auctioning off the bubbles in the good bits.  Then it was time to really get the fun started.  I was pierced in both arms with a total of twenty-nine needles with birthday candles glued to them.  Once they were lit, a group of people who had flocked to watch sang the slowest version of Happy Birthday I have ever heard as birthday candle wax started to trickle, drip, and coat the skin around the needles before I could blow them out.  The resulting high was phenomenal.  I don’t remember the rest of that night, but at some point I lost the bubble wrap dress and sang some Eve 6 at Kinky Karaoke.  With Angelflare on his volunteer assignment, the night was mine, and I soaked up as much of it as I could before my head and body demanded sleep.

The next morning we were at it again with classes on cell popping, punishment, service, and single tailing.  I realized a love for swivel handled floggers and mentally added them to my Domme list, but ultimately we walked out that night with a newly adopted Violet Wand.  I skipped dungeon time to save my energy for the last day.  Instead I sat in the hotel room watching Mean Girls with the cheesecake Angelflare had bought me from the diner across the street.

Our last day was a lead up to dungeon time, with classes on duct tape and..well, duct tape!  I bought a new book on M/s, which I will review when I’m done, and we learned yet another suspension harness. Our time in the dungeon that night was intense.  I still have polka dots on my back from the fire play, which left me buzzed and alive all over.  Then there was flogging and my first single-tail experience.  A puddle of myself, I was given the best birthday gift a slave girl could ask for when Angelflare told me I had earned his mark (in the form of a cell popping).

At that moment I couldn’t even properly respond except to keep sobbing and let my mind whirl.  I hadn’t felt that wanted and cherished since he proposed to me.  In hindsight I realize it was the moment I finally felt like I was his, that I’d surrendered, and that I wasn’t just going through the motions.  He had noticed my evolution as a 24/7 slave, and he approved.  At that moment I felt and owned my position as a slave, and it was an indescribable release.  At that moment it felt like my birthday.  I had been given new life, as his slave, with new purpose and new resolve.

I felt like a different person on my way to work Monday morning, still in my event buzz.  I can definitely say this was one of the best first experiences I could possibly have imagined.  The people I met were fantastic, supportive, and immediately accepting, and Angelflare managed to make me feel loved and celebrated.  It was, indeed, a Very Merry Sintangible Birthday to me!

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Choosing Pain

July 28, 2012 at 00:12 (BDSM) (, , , , , , , , , , , )


BDSM activity

I was recently asked to give my two cents for an article about chronic conditions, physical limitations, disabilities etc and kink, the main question being Why would one who is in chronic pain choose to be in more pain?  As some of you may know, I am have Type 1 Diabetes and Fibromyalgia, and because of both I can be anywhere from mildly irritated to severely debilitated on any given day.   This has created a few extra considerations in how I lead a BDSM lifestyle, and at times has been a slight inconvenience.  It  has also not only helped in some ways, but the benefit seems to be mutual, meaning my kink and my chronic pain have found ways to improve each other.  Who knew?

A friend of mine who is a tattoo artist mentioned to be during my last session  that she has noticed a higher tolerance from people with chronic pain when it comes to tattoos.  The theory there is that we have grown so accustomed to dealing with deep aches and pains on a daily basis that the superficial irritation caused by tattooing is not registered as intensely by our nerves.  I have noticed the same can be said for flogging, spanking, scratching, and most other surface sensation pain during a scene.  Unless it’s a particularly bad day for me, as long as Angelflare doesn’t bite into me right away, I have more endurance than I used to.

Having a day-to-day condition has pushed Angelflare to get to know my body language more intimately than he might have to otherwise.  I never have to tell my Master I’m having a bad day or what tasks I may be incapable of performing.  He already knows.  This has strengthened the trust I have that he will always protect me as his slave, and I am more ready to be blindly obedient knowing he has that kind of consideration and ability to read my pain and energy levels.

In what ways has kink helped my chronic pain?  For one thing, fire play and percussion play are an excellent way to massage and loosen muscles, not to mention the endorphin release our bodies naturally experience at times of intense pleasure or pain, but it goes even beyond that.  Being in service has done wonders to fill the hole my illness tore in my self esteem.

When I started to get sick I felt useless as both a wife and a lover.  I couldn’t take care of my family or our house.  We couldn’t have sex at all let alone engage in any kind of kink activities.  I was sure Angelflare hated me and regretted marrying me.  I felt sick, ugly, old, fat, weak, and broken.  It took me a long time to heal those wounds to my confidence, and being in service has helped with that.  I feel wanted, I feel capable, and I know that I will be pushed to go until I need to stop not just until I want to stop.  Being a slave has also given me a constant awareness of my body, which has helped me identify bad days from just feeling down or every day aches and pains, and has given me no wiggle room to make excused.  Angelflare will tell me when to rest.  Until then, I have to believe I still have the strength.

The biggest benefit I have gotten out of kink has been community.  Whenever I have been sick or had a particularly bad stretch our friends in the community have been the first to offer support in any way possible.  It’s always been one of the best unexpected side-effects of our lifestyle, and I would never trade it for anything.

To answer the original question, why would I choose pain?  It’s the same reason anyone in the lifestyle would still be mad at an unrequested punch in the face.  When the pain comes from something I’ve chosen, something that brings me pleasure, or at least brings Angelflare pleasure, the pain is acceptable.  Chronic pain or not, I can’t think of anyone who would get pleasure out of breaking a leg in a skiing accident.  The concept here is the same.

The pain I choose is pain I can harness and transform into something powerful, something positive, something that cannot be replicated.  The pain I choose is mine, and it is bliss.  The pain I choose makes the pain I do not seem a million miles away.  The pain I choose makes me feel desired, and beautiful, and strong, even when I do not feel like it.  The pain I choose makes me feel human again, and that’s something I never want to lose sight of again.

 

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Opting for Hopeless (Part 2)

July 20, 2012 at 00:57 (BDSM) (, , , , , , , , , , )


Gothic Ballerina, October 2008, Marcillé Raoul...

I wrote a couple days ago about the place for romanticism in a poly relationship.  As I did, I realized that I have heard the same comments about BDSM, D/s, and similar relationships.  Is there a place in a 24/7 M/s relationship for romanticism?  Dear gods, I hope so.

I think the first thing to address about a 24/7 relationship, well mine anyway, is that while I am always in service we are not always in a scene. We do have loving, tender, married couple sex.  We do have dates, sweet moments, and do touching things for one another.  So, yes, there is still room for romance in our life.  No, I would not expect flowers and mushy cards on a dungeon night, although I may expect a flogger or two to show up at the end of date night.  I’m kidding, but you get the point.

Unless the relationship is a completely detached, casual play situation with no intimacy I think romance finds a way in to a loving BDSM relationship.  It’s unstoppable, it’s inevitable, it’s vital.

Just an opinion from a slave who happens to be a hopeless romantic and wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

 

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In Suspense

June 10, 2012 at 22:45 (BDSM) (, , , , , , )


I don’t get to post about “firsts” very often, but last night Angelflare and I attained a long sought after goal…suspension.  I have always been interested in suspension, and we have set up our own rigs in the past, but we have never successfully gotten me 100%, off the ground, slaves in space suspended.  I am slightly alarmed any time my feet leave the ground.  I am a floor-dweller by nature, not a light specimen, and a bit awkward at times.  I am, however, a rope slut and fan of flight, so of course suspension was a given.  But how?  Here’s how.

We started in one part of the dungeon, with a harness, then I was planted in a seat to watch while Angelflare prepared the ropes.  Not having a second set of strong arms to hoist my curvy self, we relied on a chair for assistance.  I promise you I was safe, as my upper body was plenty secure before I mounted the chair.  That fact didn’t stop my fear of height and falling from triggering a small meltdown, but I couldn’t have done it without being confident in Angelflare’s abilities.  First one leg went up.  Then I did a little maneuver that brought back memories of 16 years of dance training before Voila! I was off the ground!  I was only there for a short time as it took a while to get me there and I had already say around for some time, making the harness extremely uncomfortable, but we had done it!  We had suspended me!  Angelflare gave me a twirl or two before bringing me down, and we made a few improvement notes for next time, but I did it!

The feeling was amazing.  I always find a blissful place inside myself when I’m being bound, but this was a whole new level of flying for me.  Throughout the experience I found myself slipping in and out of deep subspace, and once I was up and had assured Angelflare that my discomfort was not detrimental I let myself float away for a moment and revel in weightlessness.  It was a step past a  blockage for me and a step towards a higher goal, which is actual suspension play.

I felt absolutely unstoppable after the experience, and I cannot thank Angelflare enough for his patience, dedication, and support…pun fully intended.

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