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.


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On Being a Privately Owned Slave

February 7, 2013 at 23:38 (M/S) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

Image of spanking

There was a post recently in a Fetlife group about appreciating the opinions of slaves which heeded Dominants from punishing honest slaves publicly on the internet for expressing their opinions.  I took no notice of the litany of comments until I realized that the post was specifically directed towards Dominants who had no ownership of the slaves they were punishing.  The post suggested they should bring the behaviour in question to the owner of the slave in question.  I admit I was taken aback.  As both a slave and a Domina, I took it very personally that anyone would ever be so brash as to even make this an issue.

Maybe I’ve got it easy.  While I will show respect to any D-type in my presence, that’s a politeness I extend because of social decorum not obligation.  I am beholden to no Master by my own, and would never stand for anyone punishing me who was not Angelflare.  I would assume that if I ever stepped out of line he would be the first to hear about it, but it does not take a village to raise a slave.  I had a “Sir” reprimand me once at an event for not responding to a question in a way he found acceptable, and it raised my heckles in ways I cannot begin to explain.  Yes, I belong to Angelflare, but the rest of the world is mine.  I owe no loyalty or obedience to anyone, especially a complete stranger.

As a Domina I am very protective of what’s mine.  I would never punish someone else’s property, and I would take it very personally for anyone to do so to mine.  It’s just common courtesy.  My s-types don’t have the same rules I do as a slave, so they definitely don’t have the same rules as every other s-type out there.  In the same way I wouldn’t let someone spank my child, especially in public, I would never tolerate someone else punishing my submissive.  It’s just rude and presumptuous.

I may have lit a couple fires by responding to the thread as a slave, but I felt like it made my point better from that side of the slash.  When it comes down to it, we’re all adults.  I will not be spoken to like a bad child because a Dominant feels I’ve broken one of his rules.  He can deal with that disappointment like an adult.  If he really feels the need for justice, he can contact Angelflare, who will either apologize and punish me or politely thank him and we’ll have a good laugh about it.  It’s out of respect for Angelflare that I don’t laugh directly at someone who tries to intimidate or enforce his rules on me, but I promise it garners you no respect to do so.  Respect from me, whether as a D or an s, is given to those who deserve it and have earned it, not because it’s been decreed.

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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.


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 Fetlife PSA I Wrote About Adult Behaviour

November 21, 2012 at 19:23 (Fetlife) (, , , , )

I am taking time out of my NaNoWriMo word count to write this, because it’s gotten out of hand. I try to keep drama out of my life, and that includes my public life on the internet, especially when it has nothing to do with me. This is a small community, and combining poly and kink makes it even smaller, which means the chance is great that our social circles and event calendars will cross paths. We claim to be an “adult” community. Why then is it so hard for us to act like adults?

Here are a few guideline to help us all get along like drama free adults:

1. When you see post from people you’ve clashed with on the internet, especially on walls of mutual friends, ignore them. I never mind a little venting, but I start to notice that the moment I get a comment on my status update or forum post from the person you are obviously following like a detective I get a text, or worse, a response to their comment ON MY WALL that is in no way relevent except to try to one-up the previous comment. STOP! I am not a mediator, babysitter, or therapist. Deal with your issues somewhere else. If you have to block each other or tell your friends to block each other, this is not adult behaviour. If you’re checking up on who their new play partners, subs, or lovers are to t he point where they have to block you, this is not adult behaviour. You can say whatever you want in your business, but when it crosses over to mine I just don’t care anymore.

2. When you hear of people you’ve clashed with planning on attending events you plan to be at ignore them. It makes both of you look bad if you have to talk to friends, “protectors”, and event staff about your issues, especially if you ask them to talk to the other person in advance “just in case”. It makes you both defensive and prone to be jumpy, and it makes the rest of us want to not even go if our good time is going to be ruined by your failure to deal with adversity like an adult. I certainly don’t want to have my scene disrupted because of some petty dispute, and I look to event staff to handle both of you appropriately if there is a problem, not just the one you perceive to be in the wrong. Keep it private, friends.

3. When you do see people you’ve clashed with in the past at an event…ignore them!
It’s true, and it’s simple. Showing up at the same local public event does not equate to stalking or harassment. Good events are few and far between, and they have just as much a right to be there as you do. On the same vein, you CAN see someone at an event without talking to her. Go figure! This is not the moment to pine or reconcile. This is not the time to feel victimized because she talked to someone you’re trying to play with. This is your moment to shine as a mature adult. There is no reason both of you need to have a negative experience in a room built for hundreds, or even tens. I have been at private residence parties where I haven’t noticed certain people in attendance. If you’re not looking for a problem you won’t find one, but it takes two to make things drama free and fun for everyone.

4. We are here to have fun, so have fun, and say it with me this time, ignore them!!!! I know we are all serious, and this is a big important lifestyle, but when it comes down to it we are all here to enjoy ourselves and have a good time. Anyone who tells you otherwise is in it for the wrong reasons. Nothing personal, but no matter how close we are as friends, if you cause these issues on my wall and create unneccessary stress for me I will simply remove you from my online community. I am not the fet police, and neither are you. It is not your place to make people go away or steer them away from newcomers. If they aren’t good for the community they will be organically pushed out without your help. You should have more important things to do anyway, right?

I hope this has been helpful, especially in cutting down any hurt feelings if this behaviour continues and my friends list is drastically filtered of the people who bring this kind of drama and conflict into my world. We all have the power to act like adults with brains in our heads, and this is not a place for childish behaviour or dick measuring.

Thanks, and carry on.

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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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