Saturday, April 28, 2007


So we have this little club right?
And most weeks we send out e-mails to remind everybody that it's happening and let 'em know what we'll be talking about, but this week we didn't.

Wait. I rewind.
To a week ago or so, when the Boy put the hard point up in the attic. There's a suspension point in the attic, now, weight bearing and with the hardware so that you can spin your victem (I'm sorry, bottom). And mattresses on the floor and room enough to walk around. It's lovely.

Right. So. This week we didn't send out an e-mail, but we told all the members we saw. I meant to send out an e-mail, but I'm busy these days. So in the end, it was myself, Boy, the other fellow who runs it, and two of our best friends, a playing couple whom I shall call Dragon and Jugs. Jugs reads this, and I fully expect her to come and hit me alot with her little fists when she figures out her nickname, but what can I do? It's apt and I need to differentiate my friends without exposing them.
Besides, she's subtacular, so I'll think I'll survive intact.

Anyhow, it was the five of us, in a room full of mattresses in the attic. We hung up Dragon, which was awesome. Boy and I got to rig a suspension together, instead of one on the other. We haven't lost our knack: indeed, we appear to be improving! Despite being a very different hight-weight ratio from either of us (he is perhaps 5'9'', an broad-set. Not even pudgy, in fact rather muscular, just not bone-skinny like Boy), we got him up quickly and comfortably, and he spun and twisted for quite a while before we let him down. We also played with knotwork, Dragon tied Jugs up interestingly, we discussed Kink as a sexual orientation and decided that we think that rather than being one, it transcends them, and we ordered pizza and ate it and smoked.
Also M gave me an awesome backrub, and there was much wrestling.

It was just awesome. It reminded me of Goose and Gander and their little kinky circle of friends, who play together light and more heavily in pairs (Dragon and Jugs are a playing pair: not dating, but well nigh exclusive when it comes to nonsexual BDSM. Romantically, Jugs has a boyfriend whom she loves, but when it comes to the scene, Dragon's her dude. Complicated but comfortable.)It was good and amazingly comfortable and fun, and we talked more and were more interactive than ever before.

Boy and I cuddled and shared a bed that night, and got up this morning and he bought me breakfast and then we went on a series of very fun totally unnecessary errands, drinking in all the things we love about the place we live. Hanging out later, he snapped together a few of the old clothespins I'd made into a poem-sculpture sometime last year: HIS ECSTASY IS HER.

It was lovely. We had a lovely day. And a lovely night together the night before, with some non-school friends. I think we are discovering a joint love of martial arts movies.

By they by, we celebrated our anniversary. This is how we did it: we stayed up too late working on papers, and then I was really tired and grumpy and didn't want to celebrate at all, but once I was out of paper-mode I calmed down and Boy bought me a card that is perfect (la chat gourmand, I mean really) and a surprize bottle of Asti, and we drank and smoked and it was really late, just like it was when we got together. We said it was a pity, it would have been absolutely perfect if only we'd had time to have sex. But we didn't have time we didn't have time we... had sex. Great, awesome, amazing, deep, wonderful sex. It was wonderful.

So tonight I am a sleepy Switch, hiding from people and taking some alone time, but Boy and I are fabulous, even if we both have more work than is in any way reasonable.
In two weeks it'll be over, one way or the other.
And outside of work and school, in the parts of life that are actually important, things are great.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

April is the Cruelest Month

As noted a few posts ago, tomorrow is Boy and my anniversary.
Spring is a time of getting-together-ness.
Two of my best friends have their anniversaries within a month of ours.
Just a little bit later.
Just out of the crunch.
So they are happily planning gifts and romantic things, and coming to me for advice, and I'm looking at tomorrow... I work all day, and then I finish the draft a paper due Friday. Boy does the same.
Today I work all day on starting said draft. He is in meetings all day.
Friday? Who knows. We have our little club meeting, we maybe relax for a day in the midst of everything. I am fairly certain that there is something I am forgetting about that I need to do that day. Maybe it's just the ever-present work.
We don't have the time for an anniversary right now. We were going to go to M's house, but we don't have time. We were going to go to dinner, but we don't have time or money. We were going to do a scene, but we don't have time. If we're lucky we won't be too exhausted for a quickie.
Boy and I are generally doing very well right now. We are in love and happy to be with eachother and the relationship is pretty well ballanced at this point. And I think that probably I prefer being happy and in love right around our anniversary to being in a worse-place relationship wise and having the time to celebrate it.
I'm only grumpy because of the extremity of the situation, really. If we had time to sit together, to pour cider into glasses and toast ourselves, do a nice cathartic scene and then cuddle, that would be fine. I don't need a huge date, I need an hour and a half. But our anniversary fell in the two days when an hour and a half isn't to be found.
(True, we could just put it off, but I know the Boy and myself. If we say "We'll celebrate it next week", we won't celebrate it.)
So that's my ranting.
It's been a year and it's been sweet and bitter and difficult and excellent and I hope that we have alot more to come, and once it has passed I will be alot more zen about not being able to comemorate it, but today it makes me grumpy.

Monday, April 23, 2007


I wanted to post about how Boy cut his hand open and had to get stitches (he's fine, I promise) and then because he had to keep it dry I made a scene out of washing him in the shower, and how lovely it was and how service is something I think I could quite get off on, and also about how beautiful the Sun today was and how it felt lovely to be around my friends and outside and grilling, even if it meant that I have a million work that I need to get done... but then late night happened and a good friend of mine and the Boy had a spat due to silly meeting-ness, and I cheerfully plonked myself right in the middle even though they both very smartly told me not to, and now I have made her mad at me as well as him, and I feel guilty and in need of comfort but one cannot easily take comfort when guilty, especially not from one of the people one feels guilty about.
So today was lovely until the end, which is horrid. Boy and I long ago figured out that it is the end that counts, in a day. Soon he will come upstairs and we will cuddle and distract eachother, but I think it will be bittersweet at best.
I am sad that this day had to have a horrible end.
It was a beautiful day, before that.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

The Wages of Bingo is Canes

I don't care if that's not how the phrase goes, that's how it happened.
About a week ago the Boy wrote an entry that never got posted, a private little note to me about his sadness at the lack of sceneing in our lives (due to the previously mentioned time constraints). He said he missed hurting me, the doll.
Well, he got his chance.
At the munch, during kinky bingo, I got bingo first. Among snap-crotch leather shorts, two boxes of needles, various pieces of 'bling' (that's beaded necklaces to all you cretins who think bling only refers to diamond studded gold medalions or over sized rings and such), stuffed tiger and and evil stick, there were two canes, a thin one and a thicker bamboo one.
I'm not stupid, but I do like to try new things: so I chose the thicker one.

Last night the Boy tied me to my bed (remember when we used to play in my room, with all the eyehooks and such?). He tied my knees apart, and then put me in a chest harness and tied it to the frame over the bed, so that my weight was taken partly by the rope and partly by my arms.
Then he caned me. He'd never done it before. I'd never had it done before. It hurt, it was intense, it was amazing. He started light and got harder, and stopped several times, convinced he must be hitting harder than I liked. He wasn't. Eventually, after much longer than I think either of us expected, I did call yellow. He played with me at the edge of too much for a while, and I went pretty far into subspace, hugely enjoying the depth of the sensation and the care that my Master was taking in giving me the punishment.
When he untied me, we lay around and giggled.
And that's what was most remarkable: it felt like we'd just had sex. It was post-orgasmic, lying around and cuddling and chatting, but there hadn't been any orgasm. Just a scene that was intense for both of us, new and different and deep, that left us happy and breathless and slow to come back to earth.
It was pretty bloody lovely.

That said: I have not forgiven him for using my cane before I got to, and I have a feeling I will need to take it out of his hide with, natch, the very same.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Since Last Post...

We got the time.
And we did some scenes, of course.
He topped me at least twice, in fun ways. One of them involved stealth caning! We had never done caning before, and he was very careful to make sure I was doing ok. It hurt, but he had set me up pretty well gone in subspace, so I liked that it hurt, and it was all very nice indeed.
A different night, I topped him, a lovely little thing that was slated to involve pegging, only to hit a snag when we discovered my strap-on harness needed to be washed. No Problemo! Rigger-Switch can make herself a harness out of rope! (Thanks, Lee Harrington!) It was pretty neat, to do some on-the-spot rope work, all by myself, quick and effective, and then get to screw the Boy senseless.

At the last meeting of our little university group the third member of our triumverate, M, did the talking. He went over kinesthetic theory and the language of touch. How to pay attention to somebody, in a scene or a massage or both or anything, and know when they appreciate how you're touching them. How to be sensitive and still confidant in how your body interacts with somebody elses. How to inspire trust by gentleness, which you can then use to take your bottom farther into pain and subspace than either of you expected.
So the Boy and I have been playing around with that. We are remembering to communicate as much as possible. We are back into regularly negotiating scenes, either immediately before or just as archetypes and ideas for the future, and we are doing a much better job of going over them after.
And remembering to cuddle. That's paramount.

And today we went to the Munch. And brought a friend. That was nice. She had a good time, and liked everybody she met. And they liked her, of course, because she's pretty and spunky and loves rope and has the rack of Doom and Justice (no. really.)
Like wolves to a kill, they will swarm around her.
But she's a tough cookie, she knows what she wants, she'll be fine. She'll be better than fine, if she sticks with the group and it interacts with her the way it's interacted with us. If she sticks with them and they stay the same, she'll be golden.

(Please, kinksters, read that as I meant it, not as your twisted little minds can pervert it.)

So, that's about it. We are doing better. I knew we would, but it takes time to let that sink in. Boy made a comment, as we talked about our relationship and the future and such. Something he'd heard in a play. Essentially, if you're making eachother miserable and you still want to be together, then you know you're doing well.
And even when we're miserable, with life or eachother, it seems that what we want is to be happy together, never not to be together. So hoorah for that!

P.S. We love the group.

P.P.S. We are planning campus wide guerilla suspensions as soon as the weather gets warm enough. We intend to tell Public Safety that we're doing performance art.

P.P.P.S. 4-26 = one year since the Boy and I gave up and made it official. Any kinky ideas for how we should celebrate our prolonged failure to not be in a relationship?

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Sweet and Bitter Don't Always Make Bittersweet

Waiting, waiting.
College is BUSY! And you know what that means? Boy and I can have deep talkings one night, steal time from papers, show and restaurant to hash-out where things need to be worked on and why each of us might be having some wobblies about the relationship, and get it all mostly figured out... and then the conversation ends, and we don't have time to spend the rest of that night together, nor see eachother for more than an hour the next day (and that in the midst of Boy's last huge and immediate piece of work), and now it is today and it isn't looking like we'll have much more time than the past two. And poor Boy slept maybe two hours, probably less last night. Weather The Storm is not a good analogy for this. It's a drought, more like. Believe there will be a chance to make things better. Believe that we will take that chance when it comes.
This, compounded with the slow build of my stress, and the truly horrendous overlap of the bad point in my hormonal cycle and not getting enough sleep, equalled a crying little Switch last night. Poor Boy! He flat out did NOT have time to give to me. I'd taken the extra the night before, with the conversation! He came and held me anyhow, but it's hard. I'm very, very bad at asking to be comforted, and knowing he had work I asked him as a last resort, after several friends had not realized that there was desperation under my requests for company. So good to be comforted, but not as effective as it should have been because I always manage to compound it with guilt. Silly little Switch, full of issues like a magazine.
So we are waiting. To relax, be together, get things going good again.
One of his perennial problems is that he has trouble forming close bonds, and we have managed to form one, and so he spends much of his time with me, because it is so easy. He needs to spend time with other people, without me. That was the last thing we talked about, after I had thought our talkings over, and now, again, I worry. He has a good point, and it's important: but I worry that we'll try to tackle that problem first, and in doing so not get to any of the issues in the relationship itself. Send him off to spend time with other people, get to know them and form bonds with them, and the bond with us will weaken and become a symbolic shell of what it is supposed to be. Worries. He as much as told me last night that he's not planning on doing that, but this is where I voice my worries.
Some hours I am full of joy and faith and optimism, others full of worry that edges on despair. This hour I am well. I think that the wellness will win out.
I wonder why I feel the need to publish these feelings?
I suppose because I don't have a confidant, really. You who read this, far away and without meeting me, with your own relationship struggles and such, posting this and giving it to you is the best way for me to get it out, give it to somebody, know that it is being heard, and yet not feel guilty.
I want somebody to say to me "I want to be with you when you are sad, and make you happy. Of course seeing you cry isn't fun for me, but I would prefer to be here than to be anywhere else, and have you crying alone."
Of course, that's what I tell people when I am comforting them, and I always mean it. They don't always listen, but I always mean it.
(Which is to say, told to me it would be my own words coming back, and therefor, despite my knowledge of my own sincerity, it would ring false).
These are musings.
I have faith that today will be a good day. I hope hope to resume my partnership with my lover starting today: because we have been on shaky ground, and I have not felt that bond, that he relied on me and I on him. That is partnership to me, and there's been a gap. But I know that, at this stage in life and our relationship, all of that can be turned around in a day. And so I have faith, and I have hope.

I really do.
Things will get better, they'll be fine.

I love to see him smile.

Sunday, April 08, 2007

What We Did with S

As mentioned in last post, we stole a trick we learned from Goose and Gander.
But that's the end of the story.
The story starts, as all great stories do, with porn.
A week ago, the Boy and I and some friends were, for no particular reason, watching kinky porn in the basement of our house. The Boy, as I'm sure I've mentioned before, has a truly amazing library of porn (all of it kinky). And, as will happen when you are watching porn, we all got a little bit randy. A while ago we had done a photo shoot with a friend of ours, S, which had turned into a bit of a scene. Last week after hours of porn, we asked her if she might like to come up and play with us again.
She said yes.
It's been a week, so we are having some trouble remember what exactly we did to her, and in what order. It is mostly a happy blur.
I know she showed up a in a charming little sundress printed with little ducks, a thing she had told me was supposed to be a little girl's nightie.
We-ell, I had to discipline her a bit for dressing as though she was dear and sweet and innocent when we all knew so much better. She wound up a little dishevelled. I think she may have been spanked a bit. Or possibly pulled around by her hair. You know. Things happen.
Then we stripped her naked and put her on the bed. And tied her in a ball. Now, S is significantly smaller than either the Boy or I, which means that she is basically a little toy. I am fairly certain we more or less rolled her back and forth for a while. And then we hit her on her bottom with a paintstir (oh, HomeDepot, you are so good to us).
We had been told that actually inserting things into her pussy was offlimits, because her fiance (heh) says that's his territory. So we got out the buttplug. Last time Boy was home in his shop, he made a little round metal ball with a neck and then a ring, the cutest little buttplug you ever did see. So in that went, and she started making the most delicious little noises. We also had her hitachi magic wand going, and the ring on the buttplug that takes the place of a flared base. One can grab this ring very easily, and spin the buttplug. Man, does that get a reaction.
There was another buttplug, and more hitachi magic wand. Through all of this, she was not allowed to cum.
Then we untied her from the ball, and tied her ankles to her wrists, so that her vulva was nice and spread out.
And I took our nipple clamps and put them, ever so gently, on her outer labia. And then I did something with them, but we are having trouble remembering exactly what. I seem to recall attaching them to a string threaded through her nipple clamps and then doing some other nasty thing, but the Boy thinks that the nipplerings and pussy clamps were independantly attached to her toes. For the sake of making us look as wicked as possible, I'll say we threaded a string through the nipple rings and attached the whole shebang to toes on either side. All of this leaving her lovely pink pussy all exposed.

At this point I got a little bit mean.

We inserted the Boy's inflatable butt-plug, and I told her not to scream (this girl can be heared all over the house when she's having fun, so I was asking something difficult of her). I told her if she screamed, the butt-plug would get bigger. Then I took her magic wand and I spread a bit of lube over the end and then I pulled back the skin of her vulva and place the buzzing thing directly on her exposed clitoris.

The butt-plug got quite large quite fast.

The rest of the night was a pleasant haze of making the poor girl scream and then gasp and then scream and then gasp, of putting my mouth on another girl's pussy for the first time in my life, and generally taking away cognitive function as much as possible. Eventually, after well over an hour, I let her cum.

THEN, Boy hog tied her on the floor (hands in front), blind folded her, gave her her wand, and we proceeded to attack each other like a pair of lovers who have spent the night creating their own porn. This is the bit we stole from Goose and Gander (if I could link to the entry, I would, but suffice to say they did it first and probably better). We fucked like cats in heat, and we hear her cries and she hear ours, and we tried to race to see who could keep from cumming, but that didn't last long.

Eventually we stopped shuddering, untied her, and we all cuddled on the bed for a long time and talked about it.

I don't know why this works so well. She's not my best friend, this girl. I've known her for a while, and we haven't always related very well, but sexually, we just connect. I've done scenes with her in public and private now, and they have always been dynamite. In this one thing, I can trust her implicitly: she'll let me know that she's enjoying things, and let me know if she isn't, she'll follow my lead and trust me and is just generally a pretty darn awesome sub. I do things to her I had never imagined, because we build off eachother that well. And then there's Boy. He is always in the background of the scenes the three of us do, taking my lead and doing some playing, but mostly doing the rigging and putting objects in my hands, and as far as I can tell very much enjoying watching. And having him there gives me the performative aspect I love, and just being a fallback thing that I love and know and trust.

We arent' in any sort of relationship, and it's not something I could do every week, but as an occasional joy, it's lovely to have a third that we can play with.

I think there is more to be said here, but I'm not sure what. The shallowest layer is that we did wicked things, made a girl scream like a banshee, got our rocks off something fierce, and had an awesome time. The layers below that all show good things, but they take unpacking for another time.

I'm sure it'll end up here.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007


Ask us to tell you, later, about how we stole a trick we learned from Goose and Gander, and all the wonderful crazy things that ensued, including but not limited to my own vastly grown appreciation of the fun inherent in a ladys hidden bits. Well, a different lady. I alwasy appreciated my own bits just fine.

But that is not for tonight. For tonight, pictures!

Look, the Boy made me a pretty rope corset!

Here is a closer look at it. Nothing fancy, but nice.

I told you our toybag was ever-expanding. We've actually more or less reached a stopping point, but we've done well for ourselves. At some point I swear I will go find the original entry listing what we had and what we did and do a redux letting everybody who doesn't already know what's changed (what hasn't! ) .

This last one is a special treat. Recently the Boy pulled out candles for me. But I had to hold them for him.

Well, that's what's happening. What do you think?