Tuesday, June 26, 2007

The Rest of My Life

I have a rest of my life. Bits of it trickle through into here. Lots of it have to do with food. If you want to read about the rest of my life, the food bits and the city bits and all of the more PG bits that make up the time between scene and scene, check out www.basilontheterrace.blogspot.com .
It's new.
I figured since I've been so very good about posting on this blog, I could totally handle posting another one, too.

Check it out? Leave a comment, perhaps?

Read about food.

Sunday, June 24, 2007


Boy just snuck up behind me as I was catching up on the fabulous Goose and Gander, and savaged my neck. He asked me very politely (while pinning my arms to the chair) what I would like him to do if he were to do a long, formal scene tonight.

SO! If you are lookin' at this on the afternoon of the day it is posted, please! You have an opportunity to help make me a writhy, beggy, moany little Switch.

Comment with your ideas, you twisted fuckers.

Make me regret this post.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Folsom East, Etc.

I just sent Boy out to get cash to pay for pizza. All last year we would eat pizza with the kids in our little kink group after we'd talked or tied or whatever we were doing that Friday. So Boy and I are used to gettin' our pizza fix on Fridays. It's a nice tradition.
Last weekend was Folsom Street East, a New York leather event. We went to see what it was like, get our fix of kink society and generally scope the scene. We saw a lot of bears, an otter or two, some an amazing pair of gladiatorial lesbians, a drag queen or two, boys in collars, men in leather pants, etc. It was much more gay-oriented than the Fetish Flea, but it was also much smaller and we did see some het couples. We were one, in fact.
And we were the one with the rope.
I always forget how much a niche rope still is. We got into it as early as we got into kink, and we hold it dear to our hearts. Boy is a rigger in the theatrical sense as well as the kink sense, and I work hard to be a capable rigger as well, partly because too few girls are. I wore my Rope Slut tank down there, and we brought several hanks of hemp. Having wandered the length of it and back, I brought it out. I intended to do a very simple tie, putting Boy's hands behind his back and wrapping to a chest harness. But we just had so darn much rope with us, it didn't stay simple very long.
Most of the people wandering with cameras stopped us for pictures. Some of them we won't see unless we search the web for them, but some of them are up here:


Can you spot the Switch?

It was fun, and very hot, and we paid three dollars for water and rubbed shoulders with more beefcake than you could shake a huge, throbbing stick at.

We have also scened since then. Yes, I tied Boy over his own improvised spanking bench, and yes, I caned him till his bottom was bruised and tortured him with an inflatable but plug and made him cum all over himself (he got it in his beard!). But that's not what I'm here to talk about.
I'm here to talk about Alice. And the restaurant...
No. I'm not here to talk about that either.
I'm here to talk about the night before last. Night before last Boy tied me up. I did a bit of yoga first and we lit candles and we made it nice and calm and mood-y. The plan was for him to tie me into yoga positions, but until I'm better at yoga or he's better at tying on the fly, that's impossible. Still, it did get me very relaxed for when he started tying.
And tying.
And tying, slowly and deliberatly. Just a basic chest harness, and my ankles in a two column, and later a two column on my knees. But I was relaxed to start with, and he was so intent, letting me feel the rope so much, that I just left. I lost track of time. I didn't know what was going on. I knew he was touching me, but I can't for the life of me remember how. When I came out of it, it was like waking up when you hadn't realized you were sleeping. Apparently I was only gone 15 or 20 minutes, but once I came out of it, it was time for me to be untied. It took me a while to get used to having a body again. Freedom was strange.
I felt sort of floaty all night.
I've never been that far gone before, I don't think. Maybe when suspended, but that's a different thing: because of your weight on it, the rope focuses you much more, you're much more aware of it. This was just plain old every day shibari, done with such perfect skill and such well tuned feelings that it sent me sailing.
Yet another benchmark in our fabulous kinky journey.

(P.S. Comment if you want to see pictures of me in said ecstatic bondage)

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

What's been up

Ok. So I suppose I am going to update first on my life, and then on my sexsexsex life.
I have relocated. From my Mystery College (is it mysterious? do I actually name it elsewhere in the blog? I have no memory) to, and I'm not even going to attempt to be mysterious about this, New York City.
I am spending the summer interning at a white-collar job, which indicates that I make copies, file other peoples' stuff, attend meetings I don't understand, and generally have a fairly good time because it's all stuff I'm more or less interested in, and there is usually enough work to keep me busy but not so much that I am constantly pressed for time (that is to say, it's not my last job or the job before that). It's very cushy, really.
Boy is interning doing technical theater stuff, which seems to mean that he does basic building and mostly sorts hardware alot. I'm sure it will get more interesting when they're actually working on a show.
Those are our jobs. Our lives are more interesting. We are in a lovely little one-bedroom apartment, with a terrace-porch-thing upon which I grow herbs in pots. This means that we have our own space (ours, not his or mine), and more important, that we have a kitchen. Mostly I am the one in the kitchen, though Boy does the coffee making (and, I am ashamed and grateful to say, most of the dishwashing). I am cooking dinner almost every night, planning menus, thinking about groceries, and having tremendous fun with it all.
We have friends in the city and enough time and all seems to be more or less right with the world.

And we are playing. Not as often as we'd like: we've been moving and settling in and getting used to our schedule. At school we designated Wednesday scene night, here I think we'll pull of two scenes a weekend, but probably none during the week. Not real Sceney scenes, anyway. Alot of kinky sex, and possibly also some pegging, but not scenes.

We have, though, initiated the apartment into mutual oral sex, pegging, a fair amount of Boy curling puppy-style at my feet, and a quite decent quantity of my rolling around, batting at things and getting scritches, and of course, hot, hot sex. Sex in the living room, sex in the bedroom, sex that I think probably alerted everybody in the building and all the surrounding buildings that there are some new and different people in this apartment.

I have yet to run a real scene here, though I do plan to. I am quietly planning ways to tie him and things to do to him, things involving a cane. I'm growing to love the cane. It's a good way to produce a large quantity of pain in a very personal way. I find that it's hard to keep a good connection during flogging, due to the distance you have to be from your submissive. A cane keeps you pretty close, and you can really feel in your hand the sort of impact you've made.
As if the gasps and moans didn't tell you.

He, on the other hand, improvised a spanking bench, tied my thighs together, tied the magic wand to them in a way that I am having trouble describing, but did the job fine, thank you, and went from there. He didn't turn the damn thing on for quite a while, just left it there, pressing just a bit, and hit me with stuff. He tried out two different canes, the bamboo one and a thin steel one (we decided that one was probably a bad plan), and I'm pretty sure there were other things involved, but I was pretty far gone. Eventually, with absolutely no begging at all, I swear, he turned the vibrator on and let the inevitable happen.

Much bucking and screaming was had by me.

He snickered, mostly.

That was a good night.
There will, I am sure, be many more. For this I am grateful, and will, I swear, relay them on to you significantly more dutifully than in recent history.

I missed this blog.

Sunday, June 10, 2007

It lives...

Hi. This is a very small post to say, if any of you are still checking this after over a month (gah!) of absence, I'm not dead. The blog is not dead. I have not become disgusted with my sordid lifestyle.
I've just been busy and exhausted and going through finals and moving and all that crazy stuff.
But now Boy and I are safe and sound in New York City, where we hope to do kinky things about town, as well has having screaming amazing obliterating sex in our new bedroom, on the living room floor, etc.
We are happy. We are still kinky.
I will talk to you soon, with an actual entry about what has actually been happening, but I'm getting kissed on the back of the neck and there are declarations of love so I think it may be time for me to go get my coffee now.

(life here is quite nice, yes, indeed)