Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Miss Switch Regales

The first post in the blog was an update on the state of my life, between the year before I got into BDSM, and where I was then.
Really, that was only a few months ago, but with steady play, things have changed.
Not hugely, but I thought I'd catch you all up.

First off, with the advent of more lashings, we've recently added two new eyehooks to be wonderful bed, sticking straight out of the supports for the loft, perhaps two and half feet apart and more than five and half, but not quite six, feet up.
They are anchors for wrist restraints, to be used more or less expressly during lashings (at this point). They work fairly well, but sometimes bend the back in a way that makes it difficult to hit without doing actual damage -- remember, Doms, "No Unintended Pain."

Secondly, my partner and I have started reaching out to a smallish group of like-minded friends and acquaintances. We're looking at area organizations, mostly at talk-only meetings, but also at the possibility of dungeons, clubs, and play. On the home front, we're thinking about the possibility of hosting our first play party. We'll see how that goes.

And, of course, the level of intensity of play grows ever higher.
Toys wise, we currently own:
A flogger, three butt plugs, a ring gag, a ball gag, two sets of wrist restraints, two lengths of bondage-worthy rope, a bullwhip (never been played with, probably never will), two blindfolds, a collar a piece, a leash, a large quantity of clothes pins, several cock rings, various and sundry chains and clips and choke-collars, and my bed, which is, really, a toy in itself.
Oh. And we just obtained a cord flail. Very stingy.

As I mentioned, we will be getting:
A vibrator, a strap on, some nice nipple clamps, a significantly nicer flogger, and light-use suspension cuffs.

It is note on our personalities that the ring gag and cord flail are home made and the clothes pins modified for nipple-clamp ussage by my partner, and I'm making the suspension cuffs myself.

We've also got a bit of a to-do list:
Have sex in our house's laundry room. Have sex in the shower. Have not-sex in the shower (my partner has expressed a desire to come on my naked breasts, and I think the shower is the perfect location for this). In return for this, he's promised me that once we get a vibrator he's going to make me cum and keep me cumming till I absolutely can't stand it anymore.
I, of course, plan on taking him with my brand new strap on, because that's my idea of an absolutely fabulous time.
And we'll see if I can't put that vibrator to use on him, too.

Beyond that, little has changed. We're still very big on the open, honest communication, and constantly working to be better as tops and bottoms, both. We both have a habbit of being very obedient when we're subbing, which makes it somewhat difficult to dom, but, as I'm sure you've noticed, we get along just fine.

I should also mention changes within my head. I read more things as BDSMish than I used to. Recently I was hanging out with a friend of mine in what was, to me, very clearly a submissive (me) and dominant (him) situation. I was wearing my choke chain around my neck, and he grabbed the end and pulled it tight, and generally controlled my movement with it for a while. He was niether particularly attentive to what he was doing nor particularly gentle, probably because he wasn't reading it how I was reading it. He was sitting on a swivel chair, I was seated on the ground (see? He was above me. So clearly D/s), and at one point he hooked my chain to the chair and started to turn. At that point I stopped him and removed the chain from my neck. I remember thinking "My Master would never do that, and if he were here he wouldn't let you do it, either."
So, I've been completely and irreversibly warped. Go me.

And there it is. A general post, and update about how BDSM fits into my life (it fits in about every other night, very nicely, thanks), and where it's going from here.

Sorry if you were expecting erotica. Check back soon, duckies. It's never long with Mistress Switch.

Sunday, January 29, 2006

BDSM as baked-goods

My partner and I and two of our closest friends spent this past weekend at a cottage in the woods. Wonderful times, proving that once and for all that kink for us is, as it has been bescribed before, the chocolate icing on the cake that is really great sex.
Don't get me wrong. The first night he tied my arms behind my back and put the ring gag between my teeth and fucked my mouth and called me Pet, just like ever. I'd like to mention, at this point, what was probably the other addendum to two posts ago: gags make one louder than one is wont to be, because one has something to muffle one's screams. This holds true also for ring gags. Which don't muffle one's screams, at all.
But I had a best friend in the bedroom to the left of me, and a best friend in the bedroom to the right of me, and I don't think they needed to hear me screaming "Please, Master!", so I had to be silent. Perfectly, totally completely silent with ring gag my my mouth and my master telling me that this position, with my ankles near my shoulders and him entering me from above was perhaps his favorite position because he could see me as I came.
Ye gods. Sweet bloody torture.
I made up for it, though. The friends went off shopping in the middle of the next day, and my partner and I were going to take a shower, but there was no more warm water so we couldn't, so we waited, and while we waited, to keep our naked little bodies warm, we fucked.
I hadn't been on top and gotten to enjoy it for a very long time.
Last time I dommed, I was on top, having first inserted a buttplug into my Pet's anus, but when I'm domming I feel I need to be very much in control of things, so the experiance wound up being quite stressful, as it proved to be rather alot for my poor Pet to handle after so long without.
In anycase. This time nobody was domming, so there was no such problem. Just vanilla sex, in two very basic positions, and I can safely say, I really, really like being on top. It's just a great, stimulting position, for me. I like looking down at my partner. I like riding him. It's not his favorite, though, and I'm perfectly happy starting out like that, and then switching.
In anycase. Great, great, multiorgasmic, ride-your-partner-till-you-come-screaming-then-roll-over-and-let-him-pound-you-till-you-
sort of sex.
We did it again that night. I was nominally in charge, and I could write more about the fact that my partner still gives very good head while wearing a ring-gag, and that it's a great luxury to place one's hands on the head of the boy who's going down on you, etc. It was good sex, but the sex that afternoon stands out as the best in a long, long time. Kink, clearly, frosting. Sex, obviously, cake.

Oh. And we've scoped it out, we know what we want, and soon you'll be reading posts about his new flogger, our nipple clamps, my new strap-on and vibrator.

Plans are fun.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Adendum to previous post:

1) Kissing with a ring gag in is really strange and lovely. There's no lips at all, just the interaction of tongue with tongue... it feels somehow very pure.
And yummy. Very yummy.
I know for a fact I have another adendum to post, but I've forgotten it again, so it'll go up when I remember what it is.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Back Again

It'd been a month. I'd had some vanilla sex, and even some vanilla sex with my usual play partner, but it had been a month since we'd gotten to break out to the toys and return to my eyehook festooned bedroom.
Oh, children, it was so good.
Nothing gets ya going like having two entire hours of your time requested days in advance. You've got the knowledge of something, and you don't know what, just sitting back there in your mind. Every time I looked at him it'd resurface... 2 hours, Monday night.
I dressed (well, undressed) for him, in a lacy deep red bra and my long black silk robe.
Nothing but nothing makes me feel so wonderful as the way my Master looks at me, the things he says to me. He makes me feel so beautiful, and I want to look down and examine myself through his eyes, but he has told me not to move, so I stand there, with my legs apart and my hands clasped behind my head and his hands all over my body, and I keep my eyes forward.
Such. Sweet. Torture.
We decided, while we were apart, to up the lashings we gave eachother. We used to dole out punishment in one lash, or two, and it was always sort of anticlimacting. Last night, for breaking when he told me not to move, for throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him because I couldn't stand it anymore, I recieved twenty hard lashes, and I counted every one.
I felt strong.
And as a result of feeling strong, I fought him for maybe the first time ever. He had to wrestle me down. Of course, he had my wrists restrained, so there wasn't actually much I could do, but I twisted and I writhed and I bit him when he came close enough. He wound up adopting cunilingus as a battle tactic. He was trying to tie my ankles up, and whenever I made it too difficult he licked my pussy until I had calmed down some (well, changed from angry writhing to bucking into his mouth.)
It was lovely.
He melted two entire cubes of ice on my body, running them up and down my thighs, between my legs, over my breasts so that my nipples hardened, and he threatened to go through the rest of the try, and I believed him. I was reduced to begging, to shouting "No!", to trying to make him counter offers, but my body was hot and cold all at once and all I could manage to come up with was "I'll suck you off!".
Then, after the ice, there was the ring gag. I like the ring gag, in everything but it's sloppiness. It's a fabulous thing, to have one's mouth held open... there's nothing I've done yet that has hightened the feeling of being possessed as much as that. It wasn't my choice. He could lower my head to his crotch and put his cock in my mouth, push it all the way back to back of my throat and fuck that open orifice he had created, and there was nothing I could do.
The problem is that one's lips keep one's saliva inside one's mouth, and with a ring between my teeth and my lips unable to close, the saliva really went wherever it wanted. My arms were pinned, at that point, too, so I wasn't free to wipe the spit away. I think that might solve the problem. I'll keep you posted.
(It's also worth it to note that this particular ring gag is really lovely, having been hand crafted by my ever-so-talented partner. Ain't I a lucky girl?)
So, ring gagged and prostrate, my Master took me from behind, and I had one hand covering my mouth too keep sound and spittle in, my face ground into the sheets, and his voice in my ears. He talks to me. He tells me that everything I'm doing I'm doing because it's what he wants. He describes how I look, how it feels, and my total lack of control.
This is perhaps the hottest thing that has ever occurred on the face of the planet, ever.
And it was good, and we rolled off of eachother hot and happy, and he removed my gag and called me Lover, and grabbed me the dietcoke from the fridge. He takes care of me.
And we cuddled, but somehow, stupidly, wound up talking about ex-girlfriends of his, and I said let's not, and he said, we could go again...
And we did.
I love it when we do that, when there's actually time. No morning obligations, so we aren't screwing ourselves over figuratively, as well as literally.
That second time was hot, it was heavy, it was the sort of sex you always want, kissing like you'll die if you don't get another, rubbing and touching like you're addicted to eachother's bodies, and I wanted nothing but to have him inside me again.
I turned around and had him take me from behind, again. It's his favorite, and I don't half mind it, and I think I really missed it. This is not saying that it's the only way I ever want to be screwed again, but it was what I wanted last night, and I got it.
Good sex. Really, Really good sex.

And I will get you back, Pet. You've got thirty lashes coming and I can bet you'll be earning more.
Oh yes. I will take my time with you.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Dungeon in My Mind

No, dear readers, I did not tie my partner to the towel bar in the hostel bathroom. No, I was not told to kneel before him in the tiny shower stall and worship his dripping cock.
There were four other people with us, sillies. We didn't have a chance.
But we made up for it when we got back to our disparate homes and our comforting computers, and the power of text and imagination.
I've got a dungeon in my mind, and I love it. Cybersex is just a grown-up way to play pretend. It's close your eyes and imagine time, and I find it fabulous. Even if we had the stability, the money, the time to create an actual dungeon, it wouldn't be as good as the one I can call up in his thoughts. In this dungeon I can wear true dominatrix gear and not feel silly. I can clothe myself in leather from bustier to boots, and I can be truly all powerful. Because when I started the dungeon was empty except for the hook that my naked, collared partner was attached too, wrists together in suspension cuffs (we don't have a real set yet) above his head, the chain ending just above comfortable standing hight, so that he had to be up on the balls of his feet, half dangling.
As the scene went on, though, I added a fire place, and I conjured a pillory, and in my minds eye I saw them growing from the floor as I described them. The pillory was a low one so that he was bent over, so that I could use my fingers and a miraculous strapon to fuck him senseless, and then remove him from the pillory, flip him onto a leather upholstered bench, tie his thighs to his ankles and his arms to the legs and fuck him from the front (because my bench is just at standing hight for me when I'm wearing boots, which I am). And all of this without any awkwardness, without pauses, without fumbling. In the dungeon of my mind I can conjure what I need and it is there, I can move between positions seemlessly. As long as I keep typing, he keeps needing.
And none of this is the best part.
The best part is that I am still mistress, and my partner is hundreds of miles away, sitting in his room wearing nothing but a ring around his cock, and one around his balls, and his collar to remind him not to do anything amiss.
He reads what I say to him, but he cannot touch himself unless I let him. He earned lashes, and in place I had him squeeze hard on his balls.
(Remember, Pet, you only worked out 10 of the 30 you earned. You have 20 more coming to you next time we talk. And you've 10 real lashes when we play in person again.)
I miss actual touch, and I miss very much taking off the collar and curling up together for a bit when the scene is over. G'night and signing offline doesn't have quite the same feel. Still, this system has it's advantages. I can do things to him in his mind I couldn't bring myself, yet, to do to him in person (or even if I could, we lack the supplies.)
Ah, cybersex. I never thought I'd enjoy it quite this much.