I'm off on my travels again with work. It's not too glamorous - 18 hour journeys in economy that leave you dying for a shower and a sleep (but what I do is worthwhile so it's ok). One of the pluses is that we can access the business lounges at airports so if we're in transit we can recharge laptops and chill out a bit. My membership card's only just arrived so I was very excited as I bounced off my horrid night flight and went in search of the lounge - and felt very pleased with myself as I settled myself down with a coffee, orange juice and some museli on a nice big sofa.
There were 'no sleeping' signs on all the sofas but it was pretty quiet so I commandeered one as I checked my email. Then stretched out on it, then lay all the way down and had a bit of a snooze only to be woken by someone telling me that was against the rules. It would have seemed rather apt if they gave overly dozy girls a spanking to ensure that they wouldn't fall asleep again - and with the view over the airport would have been quite a cool place to play. Sadly not, though I did charm the man into getting a diet coke for me to 'wake me up'...
Friday, 30 October 2009
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
Sing a song of weekends...
the internet gone awry,
four and twenty stern strokes,
though I didn't cry.
Enough bad poetry I think. Due to the incompetence of O2 we have been internetless at home for the last week and a bit, which has led to a bit of a hiatus in posting. This is a great shame as I've been rather busy on the play front - a visit to the boy interest (who has abandoned me to study down South temporarily - booo!), various extremely hot scenes with friends not to mention kinky clubbing fun.
However I am well aware that the burning question for many will be the true identity of Mr Brown. During my weekend visit much debate over this ensued which ended in my conducting a straw poll via text of several friends asking
'A survey - do we think Mr Brown most resembles a) a fluffy bunny b) a cuddly koala or c) a cute guinea pig?!'
Surprisingly the majority voted for guinea pig! I was however rather charmed by Jessica's response, which concurred with me that he is really a fluffy bunny but painted a delightful picture of him hopping around the staffroom for Miss Cavendish in his ears and yellow shorts (I will not divulge the rest of the text - I do have some mild sense of preservation but it did involve a carrot!). Unfortunately the majority have spoken - Mr Brown is really a cute guinea pig. Possibly except for when he's whacking me for *actually* surveying my friends on this delicate question - then he is neither cute nor guinea pig like but really rather scary...not to scary as to dampen my spirits for long though - when he accidentally added 'hamster' to the list of choices I had given people I was still very tempted to re-poll including the option of d) happy hamster but did have to think about my phone bill. Ahem.
More about the other shenanigans to follow...
four and twenty stern strokes,
though I didn't cry.
Enough bad poetry I think. Due to the incompetence of O2 we have been internetless at home for the last week and a bit, which has led to a bit of a hiatus in posting. This is a great shame as I've been rather busy on the play front - a visit to the boy interest (who has abandoned me to study down South temporarily - booo!), various extremely hot scenes with friends not to mention kinky clubbing fun.
However I am well aware that the burning question for many will be the true identity of Mr Brown. During my weekend visit much debate over this ensued which ended in my conducting a straw poll via text of several friends asking
'A survey - do we think Mr Brown most resembles a) a fluffy bunny b) a cuddly koala or c) a cute guinea pig?!'
Surprisingly the majority voted for guinea pig! I was however rather charmed by Jessica's response, which concurred with me that he is really a fluffy bunny but painted a delightful picture of him hopping around the staffroom for Miss Cavendish in his ears and yellow shorts (I will not divulge the rest of the text - I do have some mild sense of preservation but it did involve a carrot!). Unfortunately the majority have spoken - Mr Brown is really a cute guinea pig. Possibly except for when he's whacking me for *actually* surveying my friends on this delicate question - then he is neither cute nor guinea pig like but really rather scary...not to scary as to dampen my spirits for long though - when he accidentally added 'hamster' to the list of choices I had given people I was still very tempted to re-poll including the option of d) happy hamster but did have to think about my phone bill. Ahem.
More about the other shenanigans to follow...
Thursday, 15 October 2009
Mine
I'm kneeling on the bed trying to sit still as I wait. Seamed stockings carefully straightened, frilly french knickers and a pretty bra. Lots of make-up, he likes it when it runs. I can see myself in the mirror and sit up so my tummy looks better but nervously appraise that I look pretty hot. Good.
He comes in, looks me up and down and strokes my hair. I purr and then wince as he slaps me across the cheek, feeling a bit silly
"Not yet." He laughs, forcefully drawing me over his lap and yanking my knickers to my knees. The sarcastic part of my brain questions why I'd bothered when losing them was inevitable. To make sure it was inevitable I suppose in a bizarre way. One hand crushes my neck into the bed as the other plays across my bottom and thighs and my breathing becomes more shallow.
"You know that you deserve this." He says quietly, more of a statement than a question. I nod slightly and hide my face and gasp as he painfully uses my hair to yank my head up and asks me again.
"Yes sir." I whisper, feeling my cheeks start to burn with shame. He releases my hair and resumes his grip on my neck, which is strangely comforting. I take a deep breath and cross my ankles in reflex to playing the waiting game. When his hand smacks down hard upon my bottom it's almost a relief, no more waiting. I lie there quietly as he none too gently warms me up and try not to make too much of a fuss.
He indicates I should kneel up and slides out from under me before pointing at the bed. I give him puppy dog eyes but kneel on the bed with my knees slightly apart and shoulders all the way down, making myself available. He taps at the insides of my thighs with his crop and I reluctantly shuffle them apart, shivering slightly.
I'm not surprised when he strikes my bottom hard with the crop, it was always going to happen - both what I want and what I need. What we both want. He's not holding back though, laying it on hard and relentlessly covering my bottom with fiery welts as I whimper and try not to wriggle. There's no point counting and I try to focus on my breathing as the pain builds, yelping as a stray stroke strikes my thigh and then groaning as the next one hits the other thigh and it's obvious it wasn't a mistake. I claw at the duvet as he dishes out a few more, I can see in the mirror the vivid red against my white thighs through eyes that are beginning to water.
Then the crop is flicking teasingly against my inner thighs and I shudder nervously. Suddenly it's not so teasing and I'm squirming in pain as he hits them harder. Just as I reach the point of struggling to stay still he runs the crop across my pussy, making me moan as he teases me and then gasp as he slaps me there lightly. The message that he can do what he likes couldn't be any clearer.
He runs the crop down my spine and I shiver suspiciously. His hand is rubbing my shoulders and he's whispering that I'm a good girl and I relax a little. Then he squeezes my nipple hard and I gasp and then sigh as he massages it between his fingers, stroking my hair with the other hand. Suddenly he pulls me up by my hair and seeing the clamps laid out on the bed I bite my lip and close my eyes, sometimes it's better not to look.
"Look at me." He insists and I open my eyes and look into his as he tightens the clamps around one nipple and then the other. I try not to whimper but from the sparkle in his eye my face is obviously a giveaway - it bloody hurts. He pushes me back down onto the bed so my breasts are against the sheets and gives the chain a little tug. I can hear him rummaging around and then a swish I know only so well - the cane.
"Two dozen. Count." He decries and I nod but almost jump up after the first one sets me on fire, I can tell it's the dragon cane and that was hard. I count off the strokes obediently, fingers tight on the covers as I try to keep my back arched and not to yelp. Even the slightest movement increases the pain in my nipples, until I don't know what's worse - that horrible aching pain or the burning fire in my bottom. He stops after twelve and traces the welts with his fingernails as I focus on my breathing and try to compose myself. I sob as he pulls on the chain and laughs before slipping his hand between my legs and laughing again and I try not to blush.
"Bad girl." He teases, running his finger through my wetness and casually slipping one inside me. It's embarrassing but that doesn't stop me moaning as he begins to gently tease my clit with one hand and play with my sore nipples with the other. I shift my hips slightly and he slaps me hard on the bottom for being lascivious, I know I'm pouting as I fight to stay still.
Then it stops and the caning resumes. My bottom's cooled down a bit and the first one takes me by surprise and I almost jump up but stop myself in time. If I jump up it doesn't count. I mutter out the count between yelps and cries, it's hurting too much now, past the point where I have full control over my reactions. Without looking I know my bottom is a mess of welts and there's still six more to go, and that they'll be the hardest. He starts high and true to form they are harder, it's like being branded and I start to tear up and have to point my toes to keep still. The next three are placed neatly an inch below the one before with about a minutes gap for me to roll my hips and breath it out before resuming my white knuckle grip on the duvet for the next one. The fifth one lands right on the crease and I shriek and kick my feet but stay down, deep breaths almost choking me as I close my eyes and wait nervously for the last stroke. He swishes the cane through the air a few more time and I tighten my grip in anticipation as my world explodes with white hot pain.
My breathing slows and suddenly I'm aware of the awful pain in my nipples again, he is touching them gently and even that is agony. Slowly he pulls them off one at a time and I sob as the blood rushes back in and wriggle around in response. Roughly he forces himself inside me, squeezes them hard and whispers "Mine."
He comes in, looks me up and down and strokes my hair. I purr and then wince as he slaps me across the cheek, feeling a bit silly
"Not yet." He laughs, forcefully drawing me over his lap and yanking my knickers to my knees. The sarcastic part of my brain questions why I'd bothered when losing them was inevitable. To make sure it was inevitable I suppose in a bizarre way. One hand crushes my neck into the bed as the other plays across my bottom and thighs and my breathing becomes more shallow.
"You know that you deserve this." He says quietly, more of a statement than a question. I nod slightly and hide my face and gasp as he painfully uses my hair to yank my head up and asks me again.
"Yes sir." I whisper, feeling my cheeks start to burn with shame. He releases my hair and resumes his grip on my neck, which is strangely comforting. I take a deep breath and cross my ankles in reflex to playing the waiting game. When his hand smacks down hard upon my bottom it's almost a relief, no more waiting. I lie there quietly as he none too gently warms me up and try not to make too much of a fuss.
He indicates I should kneel up and slides out from under me before pointing at the bed. I give him puppy dog eyes but kneel on the bed with my knees slightly apart and shoulders all the way down, making myself available. He taps at the insides of my thighs with his crop and I reluctantly shuffle them apart, shivering slightly.
I'm not surprised when he strikes my bottom hard with the crop, it was always going to happen - both what I want and what I need. What we both want. He's not holding back though, laying it on hard and relentlessly covering my bottom with fiery welts as I whimper and try not to wriggle. There's no point counting and I try to focus on my breathing as the pain builds, yelping as a stray stroke strikes my thigh and then groaning as the next one hits the other thigh and it's obvious it wasn't a mistake. I claw at the duvet as he dishes out a few more, I can see in the mirror the vivid red against my white thighs through eyes that are beginning to water.
Then the crop is flicking teasingly against my inner thighs and I shudder nervously. Suddenly it's not so teasing and I'm squirming in pain as he hits them harder. Just as I reach the point of struggling to stay still he runs the crop across my pussy, making me moan as he teases me and then gasp as he slaps me there lightly. The message that he can do what he likes couldn't be any clearer.
He runs the crop down my spine and I shiver suspiciously. His hand is rubbing my shoulders and he's whispering that I'm a good girl and I relax a little. Then he squeezes my nipple hard and I gasp and then sigh as he massages it between his fingers, stroking my hair with the other hand. Suddenly he pulls me up by my hair and seeing the clamps laid out on the bed I bite my lip and close my eyes, sometimes it's better not to look.
"Look at me." He insists and I open my eyes and look into his as he tightens the clamps around one nipple and then the other. I try not to whimper but from the sparkle in his eye my face is obviously a giveaway - it bloody hurts. He pushes me back down onto the bed so my breasts are against the sheets and gives the chain a little tug. I can hear him rummaging around and then a swish I know only so well - the cane.
"Two dozen. Count." He decries and I nod but almost jump up after the first one sets me on fire, I can tell it's the dragon cane and that was hard. I count off the strokes obediently, fingers tight on the covers as I try to keep my back arched and not to yelp. Even the slightest movement increases the pain in my nipples, until I don't know what's worse - that horrible aching pain or the burning fire in my bottom. He stops after twelve and traces the welts with his fingernails as I focus on my breathing and try to compose myself. I sob as he pulls on the chain and laughs before slipping his hand between my legs and laughing again and I try not to blush.
"Bad girl." He teases, running his finger through my wetness and casually slipping one inside me. It's embarrassing but that doesn't stop me moaning as he begins to gently tease my clit with one hand and play with my sore nipples with the other. I shift my hips slightly and he slaps me hard on the bottom for being lascivious, I know I'm pouting as I fight to stay still.
Then it stops and the caning resumes. My bottom's cooled down a bit and the first one takes me by surprise and I almost jump up but stop myself in time. If I jump up it doesn't count. I mutter out the count between yelps and cries, it's hurting too much now, past the point where I have full control over my reactions. Without looking I know my bottom is a mess of welts and there's still six more to go, and that they'll be the hardest. He starts high and true to form they are harder, it's like being branded and I start to tear up and have to point my toes to keep still. The next three are placed neatly an inch below the one before with about a minutes gap for me to roll my hips and breath it out before resuming my white knuckle grip on the duvet for the next one. The fifth one lands right on the crease and I shriek and kick my feet but stay down, deep breaths almost choking me as I close my eyes and wait nervously for the last stroke. He swishes the cane through the air a few more time and I tighten my grip in anticipation as my world explodes with white hot pain.
My breathing slows and suddenly I'm aware of the awful pain in my nipples again, he is touching them gently and even that is agony. Slowly he pulls them off one at a time and I sob as the blood rushes back in and wriggle around in response. Roughly he forces himself inside me, squeezes them hard and whispers "Mine."
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
Three's a crowd?
Living in a kinky girls' flat the issues surrounding poly and it's many permutations never stay out of the conversation for too long. Of the four of us I have the boy interest (though it's probably more accurate to say he has me :) ) and we can play with other people, one girl has a vanilla monogamous boyfriend (which causes all sorts of problems - particularly because she's very minxy and he is horribly possessive), another has a boyfriend but they play and have sex with other people and the fourth was in a poly relationship with a couple.
'Was' being the definitive word above as the last few days have been fraught with the break-up. Things hadn't been good for a while - they alternated between voicing their adoration and ignoring her when life got busy and so the poor girl's been up and down like a yoyo. At a party at the weekend they pretty much ignored her to play with another girl (henceforth to be called skanky ho bag) and talked about skanky ho bag visiting them and being their pet, which understandably really upset lovely flatmate.
All of this got me thinking about how well various dynamics do or don't work. I have several friends who have been badly hurt by being the third in a collapsed poly dynamic. I think the problem is that unless all three people meet at once the original couple have a shared history and tendency to divert to looking after each other when things get tough. You also have the issue of roaming eyes - if they spot something newer and more novel there's a fairly high risk that the third gets pushed away to make room in the cupboard for a new toy. Not pushed out, just pushed away, at which point self-protecting types walk away and take their independence over a dusty corner (aka most of my friends).
Don't get me wrong - I do think poly can work but am not sure about proper poly relationships - I do know people who have them but generally not all dynamics are equal, which seems to help. Please comment if you have your own thoughts! Some friends I have are a couple and have multiple girlfriends and special friends and coordinate it all via complex diaries, a ginormous bed and strict divisions of time - they swear by it. Others keep the emotional stuff monogamous but play and physical things are more flexible. Don't even mention all the various shades of grey!
What's great about our house is that we can talk about these things - so if someone has a problem with a playmate or kink influences relationship issues there are no barred topics. We can convivially discuss increased risk of STIs, problems with bruising between sessions and how to deal with someone's boyfriend wanting to have a threesome with a girl they don't like as we can problems at work or whose turn it is to clean the bathroom. Actually, I think threesomes are easier than the dreaded cleaning chat!
Thoughts, insights or experiences very welcome. I think it is quite an individual thing and dynamics very much depend on the personalities involved. What I know I don't like is people hurting my friends. The question is - is it pleasure doubled or sorrow doubled?
'Was' being the definitive word above as the last few days have been fraught with the break-up. Things hadn't been good for a while - they alternated between voicing their adoration and ignoring her when life got busy and so the poor girl's been up and down like a yoyo. At a party at the weekend they pretty much ignored her to play with another girl (henceforth to be called skanky ho bag) and talked about skanky ho bag visiting them and being their pet, which understandably really upset lovely flatmate.
All of this got me thinking about how well various dynamics do or don't work. I have several friends who have been badly hurt by being the third in a collapsed poly dynamic. I think the problem is that unless all three people meet at once the original couple have a shared history and tendency to divert to looking after each other when things get tough. You also have the issue of roaming eyes - if they spot something newer and more novel there's a fairly high risk that the third gets pushed away to make room in the cupboard for a new toy. Not pushed out, just pushed away, at which point self-protecting types walk away and take their independence over a dusty corner (aka most of my friends).
Don't get me wrong - I do think poly can work but am not sure about proper poly relationships - I do know people who have them but generally not all dynamics are equal, which seems to help. Please comment if you have your own thoughts! Some friends I have are a couple and have multiple girlfriends and special friends and coordinate it all via complex diaries, a ginormous bed and strict divisions of time - they swear by it. Others keep the emotional stuff monogamous but play and physical things are more flexible. Don't even mention all the various shades of grey!
What's great about our house is that we can talk about these things - so if someone has a problem with a playmate or kink influences relationship issues there are no barred topics. We can convivially discuss increased risk of STIs, problems with bruising between sessions and how to deal with someone's boyfriend wanting to have a threesome with a girl they don't like as we can problems at work or whose turn it is to clean the bathroom. Actually, I think threesomes are easier than the dreaded cleaning chat!
Thoughts, insights or experiences very welcome. I think it is quite an individual thing and dynamics very much depend on the personalities involved. What I know I don't like is people hurting my friends. The question is - is it pleasure doubled or sorrow doubled?
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
Love Our Lurkers Day!
Today is the fourth annual 'Love our Lurkers Day' organised by the wonderful Bonnie of My Bottom Smarts. So a chance for any shy, embarrassed or simply rather quiet people to say hello and delurk - I would love to hear from you. Why not just say hi, ask any burning questions you may have (please not why is your posting so erratic - yes I am a bit lazy!) or just give a big wave. The spanking community is wonderfully friendly and it would be great to hear from any new people...in fact if I don't I shall feel unloved and downright pouty!
As for delurking and blogging a bit more myself -later this week I promise :)
As for delurking and blogging a bit more myself -later this week I promise :)
Tuesday, 6 October 2009
ERECTION SPECIALISTS
I know men like to let each other know that 'mine's bigger than yours' but surely this is taking penis envy a bit far? Amusingly the bloke in the van tried to stop me taking a picture but failed miserably...What will we see next?
'TRAMLINE EXPERTS
'MARKS GUARANTEED'
'I HAVE THE BIGGEST PADDLE'
'BRATS PULVERISED'
Feel free to add your own suggestions (yes, I am a little bored today!)
Monday, 5 October 2009
Back to School
For real rather than play for once. Having sorrowfully graduated, packed my bags, bought a suit and moved to London for a grown-up job three years ago it's more than a little surreal. I'm not full-time, as my job is 5 days a week (and more when I'm travelling) it's just one evening a week for three hours, plus at least as much reading again. All in all pretty manageable but when you factor in the job, friends, exercising, coaching and music making I have some worries about whether I'll make time.
Despite involving a manic dash across town after work and increasing fixation on dinner as the class progresses the whole process is quite nostalgic. Repeatedly going back to the union to see if my card was ready, photocopying journals in the library at lunchtime, hiding the last copy of the book I wanted because my library card hadn't come through (naughty by necessary), taking the piss out of the really annoying girl in the class, stocking up on shiny new highlighters, pens and paper - lots of things. The deadline deja-vu hasn't arisen yet as the first essay isn't due for weeks - a huge difference from my first degree when I was expected to churn out 3,000 words three times in two weeks! I am fully anticipating that I will still procrastinate gloriously over it though!
Another big difference is that I'll be in trouble if I don't do the reading or make deadlines - with the boy interest off to study to be a Master (ho ho) a long way away we've made some rules. I'm determined to be good and keep *that* particular rule as the course is something I really want to do for me...as for some of the others...we'll see...rules and Rebecca have a somewhat rocky relationship (hence the blog title). Still it is rather brave of him - the first guy who spanked me in my last year at Uni didn't dare impose rules around me studying, not that I'd have let him if he'd wanted to! It does feel a little like I'm living in interesting times as rules and me don't tend to mix but I think it's important to have some to help us maintain our dynamic over a distance - I'll probably live to regret it!
Despite involving a manic dash across town after work and increasing fixation on dinner as the class progresses the whole process is quite nostalgic. Repeatedly going back to the union to see if my card was ready, photocopying journals in the library at lunchtime, hiding the last copy of the book I wanted because my library card hadn't come through (naughty by necessary), taking the piss out of the really annoying girl in the class, stocking up on shiny new highlighters, pens and paper - lots of things. The deadline deja-vu hasn't arisen yet as the first essay isn't due for weeks - a huge difference from my first degree when I was expected to churn out 3,000 words three times in two weeks! I am fully anticipating that I will still procrastinate gloriously over it though!
Another big difference is that I'll be in trouble if I don't do the reading or make deadlines - with the boy interest off to study to be a Master (ho ho) a long way away we've made some rules. I'm determined to be good and keep *that* particular rule as the course is something I really want to do for me...as for some of the others...we'll see...rules and Rebecca have a somewhat rocky relationship (hence the blog title). Still it is rather brave of him - the first guy who spanked me in my last year at Uni didn't dare impose rules around me studying, not that I'd have let him if he'd wanted to! It does feel a little like I'm living in interesting times as rules and me don't tend to mix but I think it's important to have some to help us maintain our dynamic over a distance - I'll probably live to regret it!
Saturday, 3 October 2009
Vulnerability
Vulnerability is a huge part of what we do. Vulnerability for subs in really letting themselves go and submitting to someone else's whims but also vulnerability for Doms in exercising what the mainstream labels as misogynistic or abusive. I've had some interesting discussions with guys who've always had urges to spank their girlfriend or tie them up but found it really hard to accept because they were 'nice guys' and it wasn't really socially acceptable. Likewise as a tough and independent girl sometimes part of my head questions what I'm doing in giving someone such power over me.
Having the confidence to let myself be vulnerable is a difficult thing it contradicts almost everything that I am. We moved a lot when I was a kid so I was often 'the new girl on the block' and learned to stand up for myself or be stood on. In a rough secondary school I struggled with being bright in an environment where that was a very negative thing - when you added an interest in music, drama and sport (it wasn't the done thing to be interested in anything) I was a natural target for bullies. I took up judo and earned a reputation as a bad person to pick a fight with because I'd hit back hard and was capable of being just as foul-mouthed as anyone who wanted to have a pop at me. Amusingly I gathered a bit of a following - I remember my Mum sitting in horror as I bought home kids who spoke solely in four letter words and would pick fights on my behalf. University was fabulous but I was socially a bit out of my depth as most of the others were from much more privileged backgrounds, my Director of Studies made comments about having problems with people from 'schools like yours' and was unable to understand that I *had* to work two jobs all summer if I wanted to come back next year at all. I've made my mark by my ability to stand on my own feet and still do - I'm ten years younger than anyone else in my current job, and confidence and presence are crucial for pulling it off - sometimes I laugh at how on earth I'm doing this job.
So, letting myself be vulnerable isn't easy and takes a great deal of trust. On a subconscious level it's probably a big part of why I'm wired to be sexually submissive - something has to give somewhere. It takes time for me to feel comfortable letting myself go with people, which is why I role play a lot. In big scenes like schools I don't have to be vulnerable - Rebecca at school certainly isn't. Some people I've played with probably don't think of me as being submissive at all. The boy interest and I did something new recently and afterwards he commented that he thought I'd fight more and I explained that I didn't need to as it was his choice and I wanted to make him happy and I trust him.
Being vulnerable really comes into play when you're one on one or in small groups. Letting myself stop fighting, whimper when something hurts or purr when I'm happy is important - it's part of the intimacy of what we do. Being vulnerable is really letting my playmates in, through all the barriers to a part of me that lies deeper inside. As I've grown as a sub it's something that I can do more easily but it's still a very personal part of myself that I can only relax into with people that I really trust and feel safe around.
You don't have to go to that part of your head to enjoy play - it's just another aspect - a bit like the fear factor. If I'm socialising with friends and someone jokingly pulls me over their lap or tells me off it's not an issue. As a bit of a masochist sometimes I don't want to be vulnerable and play quite tough characters - resistance is fun and the banter that goes with it can be very sexy and make for a great scene. But the bit where the resistance falters and I crumple and yield and let myself go is special and something I can only do with people I feel totally comfortable with.
Having the confidence to let myself be vulnerable is a difficult thing it contradicts almost everything that I am. We moved a lot when I was a kid so I was often 'the new girl on the block' and learned to stand up for myself or be stood on. In a rough secondary school I struggled with being bright in an environment where that was a very negative thing - when you added an interest in music, drama and sport (it wasn't the done thing to be interested in anything) I was a natural target for bullies. I took up judo and earned a reputation as a bad person to pick a fight with because I'd hit back hard and was capable of being just as foul-mouthed as anyone who wanted to have a pop at me. Amusingly I gathered a bit of a following - I remember my Mum sitting in horror as I bought home kids who spoke solely in four letter words and would pick fights on my behalf. University was fabulous but I was socially a bit out of my depth as most of the others were from much more privileged backgrounds, my Director of Studies made comments about having problems with people from 'schools like yours' and was unable to understand that I *had* to work two jobs all summer if I wanted to come back next year at all. I've made my mark by my ability to stand on my own feet and still do - I'm ten years younger than anyone else in my current job, and confidence and presence are crucial for pulling it off - sometimes I laugh at how on earth I'm doing this job.
So, letting myself be vulnerable isn't easy and takes a great deal of trust. On a subconscious level it's probably a big part of why I'm wired to be sexually submissive - something has to give somewhere. It takes time for me to feel comfortable letting myself go with people, which is why I role play a lot. In big scenes like schools I don't have to be vulnerable - Rebecca at school certainly isn't. Some people I've played with probably don't think of me as being submissive at all. The boy interest and I did something new recently and afterwards he commented that he thought I'd fight more and I explained that I didn't need to as it was his choice and I wanted to make him happy and I trust him.
Being vulnerable really comes into play when you're one on one or in small groups. Letting myself stop fighting, whimper when something hurts or purr when I'm happy is important - it's part of the intimacy of what we do. Being vulnerable is really letting my playmates in, through all the barriers to a part of me that lies deeper inside. As I've grown as a sub it's something that I can do more easily but it's still a very personal part of myself that I can only relax into with people that I really trust and feel safe around.
You don't have to go to that part of your head to enjoy play - it's just another aspect - a bit like the fear factor. If I'm socialising with friends and someone jokingly pulls me over their lap or tells me off it's not an issue. As a bit of a masochist sometimes I don't want to be vulnerable and play quite tough characters - resistance is fun and the banter that goes with it can be very sexy and make for a great scene. But the bit where the resistance falters and I crumple and yield and let myself go is special and something I can only do with people I feel totally comfortable with.
Friday, 2 October 2009
The Fear Factor
The 'Fear Factor' can be one of the biggest rushes in a scene BDSM in general. The slightly sick, out of body feeling when you hear that tone of voice and the build-up has been just right. The looming realisation that something's going to happen and it's going to hurt and you deserve it. For me the fear factor is greatest in role play scenes as in reality tangible fears don't hold much sway over me (but don't get me started over the intangible fears). Be it the strict headmaster, the reformatory warden who is clearly a real sadist or a vengeful slave master someone people who can go with me to a place where I'm genuinely scared and subsequently repentant or at the very least cowed are wonderful.
There was a time in the not so distant past when the fear factor rose more quickly. In a couple of very memorable scenes when I was first dipping my toes into the waters of 'the scene' and BDSM as opposed to kinky games with a boyfriend I actually fainted. The fear (and shock) factors of being in a real dungeon with real implements I'd only heard about in books with someone I barely knew scared the hell out of me but in a really hot way. In all honesty the actual fainting wasn't hot but that level of nerves whenever someone so much as spanked me was.
The fear factor doesn't necessarily kick in because you're going to play really hard - it's a mindset. It's the build up, the uncompromising tone of voice, the unyielding nature of having to be in a certain position or respond in a certain way, the relentless hand forcing your head further down and the associated feeling of helplessness. The indicators that someone means business kicking in and you senses hitting a heightened level meaning less can even be more. I love it and the sick feeling in my stomach that comes with it.
Thinking about recent play it's not something that has been kicking in so much. The boy interest and I are experimenting with Ds and playing more as us (which is both scary and wonderful in a completely different way) and I don't seem to have got round to playing that type of imbalanced mind-fuck of a scene. This led to me thinking about why and I think part of it is being rather stressed with real-life issues and physically away, which has left me with less time to plot evil scenes and ferment bad behaviour - I haven't been playing so many 'formal' scenes and those I have played have been hot and fun rather than scary. I also have been too taken with the boy to meet new people. I'm not sure if you tend to have these scenes more with someone new but I think sometimes it can make it more scary but then as Emma Jane rightly pointed out if a scene is going to push your limits as part of the fear factor the trust of being with established playmates is absolutely crucial. Thinking about it has given me the urge to plan some scene that will push the 'fear factor' as looking back those scenes have historically been some of my favourites (and I may write about a few) but I throw the floor open - what gives you the 'fear factor'?
There was a time in the not so distant past when the fear factor rose more quickly. In a couple of very memorable scenes when I was first dipping my toes into the waters of 'the scene' and BDSM as opposed to kinky games with a boyfriend I actually fainted. The fear (and shock) factors of being in a real dungeon with real implements I'd only heard about in books with someone I barely knew scared the hell out of me but in a really hot way. In all honesty the actual fainting wasn't hot but that level of nerves whenever someone so much as spanked me was.
The fear factor doesn't necessarily kick in because you're going to play really hard - it's a mindset. It's the build up, the uncompromising tone of voice, the unyielding nature of having to be in a certain position or respond in a certain way, the relentless hand forcing your head further down and the associated feeling of helplessness. The indicators that someone means business kicking in and you senses hitting a heightened level meaning less can even be more. I love it and the sick feeling in my stomach that comes with it.
Thinking about recent play it's not something that has been kicking in so much. The boy interest and I are experimenting with Ds and playing more as us (which is both scary and wonderful in a completely different way) and I don't seem to have got round to playing that type of imbalanced mind-fuck of a scene. This led to me thinking about why and I think part of it is being rather stressed with real-life issues and physically away, which has left me with less time to plot evil scenes and ferment bad behaviour - I haven't been playing so many 'formal' scenes and those I have played have been hot and fun rather than scary. I also have been too taken with the boy to meet new people. I'm not sure if you tend to have these scenes more with someone new but I think sometimes it can make it more scary but then as Emma Jane rightly pointed out if a scene is going to push your limits as part of the fear factor the trust of being with established playmates is absolutely crucial. Thinking about it has given me the urge to plan some scene that will push the 'fear factor' as looking back those scenes have historically been some of my favourites (and I may write about a few) but I throw the floor open - what gives you the 'fear factor'?
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