Hello. I do not have any experience yet with labia, but I have experience with penises and scrotums. I have not pierced through testicles yet - but that must be done with sterile needles or auto-claved objects only and I suggest you have a lot of experience before driving anything into this area. I would also not suggest going down the urethra, due the risk of injury in an area a lay person cannot attend to well. (There are sounds to play with down there instead).
I suggest you have a look back through my [fetlife] profile that will give you some scope, and maybe join some of the many cbt, genital torture groups for more. (You need to go back awhile in the pictures, because I stopped when my sub developed cancer - not in that area).
I am not sure about your region, but I and people I know get their needles from needle exchanges. Just say they are for play piercings and so you don't need syringes. Their products are sterile and safe, and they are efficient. You will need to buy a needle disposal unit. If you bring back a full one you get a free one back and the needles are cheaper the fuller the unit. The one in Auckland that I use is in East St, just of K'rd.
I have pierced along the cock and on the edge of the glans/head and in various parts of the scrotum. I have stretched and pegged the scrotum out on a large cork with the middle bored out on it with large needles (soaked in janola). I had plans to autoclave nails to do this, but my sub became ill before I was able to. Due to the fine skin in this area I have found it easier to work with small needles such as 23 and 25 gauge needles especially in the scrotum. I have however used up to 16 gauge needles in both areas before.
Remember for bondage and needles this area is like a snail. The balls slide easily from your fingers and try to escape the needles. The cock usually shrinks when in pain, but some lucky people manage to remain in tacked.
I suggest you or whoever is doing it start by learning on backs, arms, hands and thighs before moving to such a fragile area. The skin is very different down there though, so try the web between the thumb and pointer finger. Northern Bonds occasionally has needle workshops, I suggest that you join up if you are prepared to come down to Auckland for them. I do not think they teach you cbt needle play, but it is a good place to get pointers.
As for how it feels I am sorry I have no experience there. I know it hurts in the nipples and that my new sub finds it too painful in the cock and balls. Some people love the pain, some even get turned on by it, but all I have spoken to say it is painful.
Good luck in your journey
WW ;-)
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Different levels of play
In response to a thread about levels of sexual energy in play:
I have played with quite a few people and for me there are different levels. Sometimes we may cross from one level to another depending on how open the person is and how much energy I wish to give and receive.
As far as sex goes: I rarely play in a sexual way in front of people other than my sub, except for a bit of touching and hitting. I only want my sub entering me and going down on me. That may change with someone special, but I doubt that it will be another man. I am gender queer. At the moment I usually feel like a man working through a woman's body when I play intimately with women and therefore I do sexual things to women, but my bottom half is stone in regard to them doing things to me. This may change with the right women, because there are some women that I do feel like an evil older women with. I have not had the chance to explore sex with trans people yet. Interacting with most men I feel female, but with some gay men I feel male.
Needle play is non sexual for me.
Level 1: Teaching. My energy is focused purely on making sure they are ok and as relaxed as possible so that I can inflict pain. I am talking to the group as I play and stopping often, therefore I do not play hard. I will talk to the subject to ensure they do not sink too far into subspace.
Level 2: Educational play. Playing with people new to BDSM who want to give it a go. I pay full attention to them, but do not release much energy, because this is an impersonal play. I may try releasing any pent up energy from them and give them some good energy so that they may experience light pain better. I speak only to check in on them, praise or reassure them. I allow them to sink into subspace if possible. I give them pain at a level I think they will enjoy and a bit of a tease of harder play.
Level 3: Hard educational play. Same thing as above, but the person has approached me explaining that no one has taken them far and they would like to experience a hard play. I give and release a bit more energy, to carry them through the pain. But I remain mainly impersonal not taking their energy. I may check in more with them. I hope for their sake they can sink into subspace.
Level 4: Playing for real - non sexual. The level of play may be from light to very hard. There is no sexual contact other than my fingers sliding around their body at the beginning to relax them and for me to understand their body and energy; and my nails at the end. My crops may move up between their legs and give their crutch a few taps, I may play with/torture their nipples/breasts, but I do not release any sexual energy towards them. It is pure sadism.
Level 4a: CBT. As above but of course I am doing evil things to their cock and balls. I am happy for them to consider it to be sexual, but to me it is sadism with humour. I talk a lot and laugh with my subjects, but if I see them sinking into subspace I allow them so that they can handle the pain. I have only done sounds with my deceased sub and that was sensual - he would often cum. The rest was non sensual, but often afterwards we would have sex.
Level 4b: Playing for real – non sexual for me, but maybe sexual for them As above. I fuck them up the arse with a strap on or piss on them. It is a D/s buzz, but not the sexual buzz that I get from fucking a women with a strap on.
Level 5: Play for real with sexual energy There is nothing that would be called sex in a vanilla sense, but we are both open giving and receiving energy. We are aware of others in the room, but we link together as if there is a circle of energy surrounding us. I may or may not use this time to also release energy blocks they have, but there is a sexual feel to the play. In this state experienced women who are open to energy can have orgasms from my pain. They can vary from very intense to just nice. Often their orgasmic energy rolls up and hits me and then I cum as well. I often squirt during these plays. When I scratch them at the end of a play I usually cum.
Level 5a: The above with women and I may digitally penetrate or rub their clit. We are not well connected yet, but are ok with it leading to this stage.
Level 6: Play with no holding back This is when there are no restraints such as audience or concerns about relationships and we are in a good space. It is just us at that moment in the world and the play flows to wherever I wish to take it and they are ok with this. We have negotiated previously about what is ok. Usually this consists of a good hard S/m work out leading to sexual play. Usually this is with my own subs occasionally it has happened with others (and happened when I was a sub with two people). The air becomes hot with our energies flowing back and forth and mingling together. If I feel they have a block I will release it quickly so that it does not interfere with our play.
Level 7: The trev stage I have only experienced this with one person and so I have named it after him. (trev is my deceased sub). Because he could handle whatever I gave to him the S/m energy was intense, the pain would rise to an intense degree and it took all my energy to dish it out. Yet energy creates energy and so I would thrive on it and have plenty left over for sex. After that we would both be exhausted of course. When we were in a relaxed state with a good environment our energy would become one. That energy that I am sure many of you have felt with a really intense sexual session with someone you love is what we would feel in our impact play and that would then carry on to sex afterwards. He had absolute trust in me, he could handle a missed hit well, he knew tantra so he could get off really well from the pain as well as processing his and my energy easily.
Hopefully I will find new levels in future exploration :-)
I have played with quite a few people and for me there are different levels. Sometimes we may cross from one level to another depending on how open the person is and how much energy I wish to give and receive.
As far as sex goes: I rarely play in a sexual way in front of people other than my sub, except for a bit of touching and hitting. I only want my sub entering me and going down on me. That may change with someone special, but I doubt that it will be another man. I am gender queer. At the moment I usually feel like a man working through a woman's body when I play intimately with women and therefore I do sexual things to women, but my bottom half is stone in regard to them doing things to me. This may change with the right women, because there are some women that I do feel like an evil older women with. I have not had the chance to explore sex with trans people yet. Interacting with most men I feel female, but with some gay men I feel male.
Needle play is non sexual for me.
Level 1: Teaching. My energy is focused purely on making sure they are ok and as relaxed as possible so that I can inflict pain. I am talking to the group as I play and stopping often, therefore I do not play hard. I will talk to the subject to ensure they do not sink too far into subspace.
Level 2: Educational play. Playing with people new to BDSM who want to give it a go. I pay full attention to them, but do not release much energy, because this is an impersonal play. I may try releasing any pent up energy from them and give them some good energy so that they may experience light pain better. I speak only to check in on them, praise or reassure them. I allow them to sink into subspace if possible. I give them pain at a level I think they will enjoy and a bit of a tease of harder play.
Level 3: Hard educational play. Same thing as above, but the person has approached me explaining that no one has taken them far and they would like to experience a hard play. I give and release a bit more energy, to carry them through the pain. But I remain mainly impersonal not taking their energy. I may check in more with them. I hope for their sake they can sink into subspace.
Level 4: Playing for real - non sexual. The level of play may be from light to very hard. There is no sexual contact other than my fingers sliding around their body at the beginning to relax them and for me to understand their body and energy; and my nails at the end. My crops may move up between their legs and give their crutch a few taps, I may play with/torture their nipples/breasts, but I do not release any sexual energy towards them. It is pure sadism.
Level 4a: CBT. As above but of course I am doing evil things to their cock and balls. I am happy for them to consider it to be sexual, but to me it is sadism with humour. I talk a lot and laugh with my subjects, but if I see them sinking into subspace I allow them so that they can handle the pain. I have only done sounds with my deceased sub and that was sensual - he would often cum. The rest was non sensual, but often afterwards we would have sex.
Level 4b: Playing for real – non sexual for me, but maybe sexual for them As above. I fuck them up the arse with a strap on or piss on them. It is a D/s buzz, but not the sexual buzz that I get from fucking a women with a strap on.
Level 5: Play for real with sexual energy There is nothing that would be called sex in a vanilla sense, but we are both open giving and receiving energy. We are aware of others in the room, but we link together as if there is a circle of energy surrounding us. I may or may not use this time to also release energy blocks they have, but there is a sexual feel to the play. In this state experienced women who are open to energy can have orgasms from my pain. They can vary from very intense to just nice. Often their orgasmic energy rolls up and hits me and then I cum as well. I often squirt during these plays. When I scratch them at the end of a play I usually cum.
Level 5a: The above with women and I may digitally penetrate or rub their clit. We are not well connected yet, but are ok with it leading to this stage.
Level 6: Play with no holding back This is when there are no restraints such as audience or concerns about relationships and we are in a good space. It is just us at that moment in the world and the play flows to wherever I wish to take it and they are ok with this. We have negotiated previously about what is ok. Usually this consists of a good hard S/m work out leading to sexual play. Usually this is with my own subs occasionally it has happened with others (and happened when I was a sub with two people). The air becomes hot with our energies flowing back and forth and mingling together. If I feel they have a block I will release it quickly so that it does not interfere with our play.
Level 7: The trev stage I have only experienced this with one person and so I have named it after him. (trev is my deceased sub). Because he could handle whatever I gave to him the S/m energy was intense, the pain would rise to an intense degree and it took all my energy to dish it out. Yet energy creates energy and so I would thrive on it and have plenty left over for sex. After that we would both be exhausted of course. When we were in a relaxed state with a good environment our energy would become one. That energy that I am sure many of you have felt with a really intense sexual session with someone you love is what we would feel in our impact play and that would then carry on to sex afterwards. He had absolute trust in me, he could handle a missed hit well, he knew tantra so he could get off really well from the pain as well as processing his and my energy easily.
Hopefully I will find new levels in future exploration :-)
Saturday, August 13, 2011
I Live The Lifestyle When I Can
I am going to step out there and say that BDSM is my lifestyle and my culture.
Here am I a 47 year old woman sitting in bed typing with my 23 year old sub cuddled asleep next to me. Sure I got my own breakfast, but with a nudge and some cheeky banter back and forth he would have race down to get it for me no matter who was in the house at the time and if he didn't he knows he would get hit with the toy that he hates the most, which is sitting openly in my room with many of my BDSM toys. I rarely use the stick because he loves looking after me anyway. If I was still vanilla I do not think I would have a 23 year old man in my bed and probably not a man at all. I have no interest in a relationship with a straight vanilla man.
I have one vanilla friend the rest are kinksters of many levels. My son knows what I am into, and my daughter will when I see her in person. The rest of the family have no involvement in my life and never visit me. I will be working soon and that part has to remain vanilla. If I had my way I would be paid to teach people about and demonstrate BDSM.
My studies were nearly always about queer and transgender issues and culture so they were not about BDSM, but they certainly were not promoting the heterosexual vanilla world that dominates our society. When I go on holiday I usually stay and mix with BDSM people. Since I was 22 my interests and exercises have usually been of a solitary nature.
I went to erotica. I was in the stage/bar area. The young show chickies were wandering around playing up to the crowd. They walked straight passed me - I did not exist. Yet one of them was flirting with a fat old man. I remembered that I was a fat old woman in a very different world to which I move in.
In my world there are many acceptable body shapes, in my world it is about personality and skill and style. Age is more just an interesting characteristic. In my world women are respected far more by all genders. In my world that chicky would be walking away from me with a big smile on her face after a flogging - if not more instead of a weak fake smile from doing as she is told. There would be people on the stage all shapes and sizes and ages and being cheered for shaking what they got.
As the profile status says I live the lifestyle when I can. This is my culture with all its good and bad and in between elements, because when I look out at the rest, it does nothing for me.
Here am I a 47 year old woman sitting in bed typing with my 23 year old sub cuddled asleep next to me. Sure I got my own breakfast, but with a nudge and some cheeky banter back and forth he would have race down to get it for me no matter who was in the house at the time and if he didn't he knows he would get hit with the toy that he hates the most, which is sitting openly in my room with many of my BDSM toys. I rarely use the stick because he loves looking after me anyway. If I was still vanilla I do not think I would have a 23 year old man in my bed and probably not a man at all. I have no interest in a relationship with a straight vanilla man.
I have one vanilla friend the rest are kinksters of many levels. My son knows what I am into, and my daughter will when I see her in person. The rest of the family have no involvement in my life and never visit me. I will be working soon and that part has to remain vanilla. If I had my way I would be paid to teach people about and demonstrate BDSM.
My studies were nearly always about queer and transgender issues and culture so they were not about BDSM, but they certainly were not promoting the heterosexual vanilla world that dominates our society. When I go on holiday I usually stay and mix with BDSM people. Since I was 22 my interests and exercises have usually been of a solitary nature.
I went to erotica. I was in the stage/bar area. The young show chickies were wandering around playing up to the crowd. They walked straight passed me - I did not exist. Yet one of them was flirting with a fat old man. I remembered that I was a fat old woman in a very different world to which I move in.
In my world there are many acceptable body shapes, in my world it is about personality and skill and style. Age is more just an interesting characteristic. In my world women are respected far more by all genders. In my world that chicky would be walking away from me with a big smile on her face after a flogging - if not more instead of a weak fake smile from doing as she is told. There would be people on the stage all shapes and sizes and ages and being cheered for shaking what they got.
As the profile status says I live the lifestyle when I can. This is my culture with all its good and bad and in between elements, because when I look out at the rest, it does nothing for me.
Friday, July 15, 2011
I have been fortunate in being able to play with some lovely and interesting people over the past 10 years. From one off plays to five glorious years – they have all have brought something to the relationship and take something away. Each interaction is different bringing variety to each other’s lives.
Admittedly there was one relationship that had devastating effects on me and my kids, but even that relationship had its good points and the most to learn from. I not only learnt from the negative experience but also because I was a fairly new sub therefore this was my path into learning about my relationship with pain. For the later I will say he did a great job.
Although playing with new people can be refreshing and a new challenge, I feel much better when I have got to know someone through play. Some relationships are brief, for example play party ones. There are one off plays where you see someone and chat and then ask if they wish to play, but after that one play we are back to the social only. However, I prefer it when I see someone I have played with before, and ask if they are interested in another play and they say yes! This way I have some idea of how their energy works, their body language, their noises, their reactions and their pain tolerance. This can vary each time of course, especially their tolerance, but if I have played with them already I have some idea of what to expect.
For myself I would far rather have a few regular playmates than a string of new ones. I can relax more and go with the flow of each play. With domming there is always so much to concentrate on even though you may be relaxed and having fun. So if you know your playmate well instinct kicks in and it becomes more pleasurable as you relax into a familiar flow; and you are both more likely to be open to try new things. To help someone on their S/m journey is indeed an honour and a pleasure.
Best of all is the relationship I had with trev and the one I now have with bear. To be really close with someone in life, love, play and sex suits me very well. I would miss not playing with others, but as long as I have my sub then I am happy. The energy playing with someone you love is amazing and I never want to take that for granted. We would like to share our lives with another (or others), or at least have regular casuals, but if that does not eventuate we are very happy with just each other.
I recently went to a party and just played with bear. There were a number of distractions for us both and so our play was not flowing as it should. Other than being asked to scratch someone briefly I did not have the opportunity to play with others that night. I came away from the party a bit flat.
The next day, however, I thought about how lucky I have been and how grateful I need to be. Many times it has been a matter of trying to fit all the play in one night or at least playing with one other person other than my sub. I recently stopped playing with a regular play partner, but it really warms me to see her happy with her girlfriend. That is a bigger buzz for me. We both enjoyed and learned from this play relationship, then moved on. I was sad to have clicked well with one woman, but due to circumstances we could not continue. However, the brief interactions helped me to understand a new part of myself that I hopefully will be exploring again soon.
Of course loosing trev through cancer was devastating, but bear came along to ease me through this and look how much we have grown together! Our play may not have been the best that particular night, but we sure made up for it the next few times I am indeed fortunate.
So many people come away from parties with only the chance to watch, not participate. They constantly are looking for someone special in their lives. I am very grateful for all the play partners I have had in my life and all the ones I have yet to play with. We would like to enter into a long standing play relationship with another whether that is together or we both have someone separate to dominate, but the main thing is we have each other and enjoy each other every day. We say I love you throughout the day and when that collar goes on we are reminded each time of how very special our relationship is. I honour this and I must remember how very important my sub is in life.
Love you my bear xxx
Admittedly there was one relationship that had devastating effects on me and my kids, but even that relationship had its good points and the most to learn from. I not only learnt from the negative experience but also because I was a fairly new sub therefore this was my path into learning about my relationship with pain. For the later I will say he did a great job.
Although playing with new people can be refreshing and a new challenge, I feel much better when I have got to know someone through play. Some relationships are brief, for example play party ones. There are one off plays where you see someone and chat and then ask if they wish to play, but after that one play we are back to the social only. However, I prefer it when I see someone I have played with before, and ask if they are interested in another play and they say yes! This way I have some idea of how their energy works, their body language, their noises, their reactions and their pain tolerance. This can vary each time of course, especially their tolerance, but if I have played with them already I have some idea of what to expect.
For myself I would far rather have a few regular playmates than a string of new ones. I can relax more and go with the flow of each play. With domming there is always so much to concentrate on even though you may be relaxed and having fun. So if you know your playmate well instinct kicks in and it becomes more pleasurable as you relax into a familiar flow; and you are both more likely to be open to try new things. To help someone on their S/m journey is indeed an honour and a pleasure.
Best of all is the relationship I had with trev and the one I now have with bear. To be really close with someone in life, love, play and sex suits me very well. I would miss not playing with others, but as long as I have my sub then I am happy. The energy playing with someone you love is amazing and I never want to take that for granted. We would like to share our lives with another (or others), or at least have regular casuals, but if that does not eventuate we are very happy with just each other.
I recently went to a party and just played with bear. There were a number of distractions for us both and so our play was not flowing as it should. Other than being asked to scratch someone briefly I did not have the opportunity to play with others that night. I came away from the party a bit flat.
The next day, however, I thought about how lucky I have been and how grateful I need to be. Many times it has been a matter of trying to fit all the play in one night or at least playing with one other person other than my sub. I recently stopped playing with a regular play partner, but it really warms me to see her happy with her girlfriend. That is a bigger buzz for me. We both enjoyed and learned from this play relationship, then moved on. I was sad to have clicked well with one woman, but due to circumstances we could not continue. However, the brief interactions helped me to understand a new part of myself that I hopefully will be exploring again soon.
Of course loosing trev through cancer was devastating, but bear came along to ease me through this and look how much we have grown together! Our play may not have been the best that particular night, but we sure made up for it the next few times I am indeed fortunate.
So many people come away from parties with only the chance to watch, not participate. They constantly are looking for someone special in their lives. I am very grateful for all the play partners I have had in my life and all the ones I have yet to play with. We would like to enter into a long standing play relationship with another whether that is together or we both have someone separate to dominate, but the main thing is we have each other and enjoy each other every day. We say I love you throughout the day and when that collar goes on we are reminded each time of how very special our relationship is. I honour this and I must remember how very important my sub is in life.
Love you my bear xxx
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
The Slutwalk
I went on the Auckland Slutwalk. For a wrap up of the media coverage (including blogs) and why one may wish to go on a slut walk see my friend Curvaceous Dee’s blog - http://curvaceousdee.com/ She has done an excellent job and therefore I won’t repeat it. There has also been discussion about it in online comunities.
Instead I will talk about my personal journey in relation to Slutwalk. I am a rape survivor four times over. I will give you background before moving on to how Slutwalk relates to me at 47 years old marching down Queens St. It is a long story with no juicy bits, this time WW gets serious. Move on if you wish, stay if you want to know more.
I grew up under the tyranny of an emotionally manipulative mother, who has proudly said she brought us up like ‘perfect little zombies’; and an emotionally detached father who barely knew I existed. I rarely brought friends home due to Mum’s extensive screening and blocking programme and except for Mum’s tantrums there was very little noise or communication in our house. Then there was this weird as incident I have only recently recalled as a very young child where something sexually happened with my arse and a stranger in a toilet that was shared by a group of seedy shops. It is too blurry to understand.
Otherwise it was a pretty sweet childhood with little complaints other than being taught that girls and women had to behave and appear differently to boys and men – and that was just how the world worked – so don’t be difficult by asking questions and know that men were in charge. Put on your pink clothes, ride your bike like a women, don’t get dirty and no you cannot play soccer because you will get hurt!
However, the above conditions produced a painfully shy and paranoid kid until my first boyfriend at 14 years old when I came alive. Also I have always had and still do have communication difficulties in female friendship, whereas I have often felt an affinity with boys and men.
Cue: a montage of the teenage stoner, party animal with the same manipulative first boyfriend. We learned about sex together and there was no one to ruin my penthouse and cosmopolitan informed ideas of being a sexually liberated woman. I was the woman that could eat more, drink more and take more drugs than the other women and never cough when I spotted oil. I wondered what it would be like to be a slut and have more sex than other women.
I then slimmed down and transformed into an ‘in your face’ punk rocker in my early 20’s and ditched the boyfriend. I thought I was ugly and then I discovered I could score men at parties – what an awesome game that turned out to be. Oooh he’s hot, I wonder if I can score him – yay another notch in my belt – if it is good enough for men then it is good enough for women. I loved sex and my appetite was insatiable. It started as a fun game, but through the haze of heavy drinking and drugs it became a desperate search for someone to spend the night with me instead of being alone. I scored bad skinheads in one scene and hung out with the nice stoner friends in another. There were fucks, competition, anti conformity and hard times in one scene and fading friendships and mellow times in the other. I became a slut and I was labelled as such by men who were sluts themselves.
What protected me was that I could fight really well and I would scare the shit out of the boring normal people of Wellington, and so the men respected me and were amused by me and the women feared me. I had a few female friends who tried to warn me about my slut rep, but I did not listen.
One night I was at a party with a different crowd at an acquaintance’s house. I was looking for fresh meat in a new scene. I was given a joint that was laced with angel dust. I thought I was sleeping on the floor next to the acquaintance’s bed and being fucked by his friend. When I woke up in the morning I discovered that his entire rugby league team, and then some, had been through me. I felt shame and guilt and disgust in myself. I never saw those people again. Stupid slut – you deserved all you got!
Being a slut had brought me pain and shame and so I tried to find a relationship with the skinheads, but who wants a relationship with a slut? They could not believe that I would remain faithful. I had spent so much energy in pretending to be a nasty, tough punk rocker that they did not know the true me anyway. Then I got a boyfriend who had broken up with his wife. He was wanted by the law and it seemed exciting at the time. I went to a party one day and as I walked up the street and into the house all the skins and punks yelled “slut, slut, slut, slut”. What could I do, but hold my head high and not let them get to me. Once inside I discovered why they were doing that. There was his wife returned from a break away and she was fully pregnant. It had all been lies and manipulation. Stupid slut – did you really think you were worthy of being loved?
After he went to court and was sentenced to an alcohol programme I slashed my wrists and ended up in good old Porirua Hospital for a few days observation. I then realised that I had nothing to complain about when I saw what others went through with mental illnesses. I came out a new, but broken woman.
That week our unofficial leader was stabbed to death at a party I went to. It was time to move on up to stay with Mum for a spell then off to Auckland. It was the same sort of scene, but friendlier. I was starting a fresh with new people and doing it in a new way. What job could a messed up young women do with a flat full of people on heroin? I was damn good at sex, everyone told me so – why not get paid for it. I became a paid slut!
I felt I had gained some control in my life. I had money, I had new drugs, new parties, and I fucked people in my scene that were worthy of my friendship. I called the shots - and I had a new game to play! Entice the customers so that they move on from a massage to sex. If they didn’t then we did not get paid. If I did not get paid, I could not party and wear cool clothes and I could not keep up with the heroin culture of my new scene. Flirt + entice = survival and fun. I moved up to being the second most requested girl in the parlour.
One night a huge gross taxi driver came in and chose me. He told me that he had no money for sex, but wanted a massage. I did what we were trained to do, and I hoped that maybe he was not a time waster after all, that maybe he had some money tucked under that huge fat gut after all. I was good at what I did, and so I was up for a challenge. Flirt and entice, do the sensual massage, get the fucker horny, get money for drugs and fun. Wank, wank, money in the bank!
He pinned me down and said I was a dirty little tart and deserved to be taught a lesson. He fucked me without a condom. I could hardly breathe under his sweaty fat mass. I thought I was going to suffocate. I usually could shut part of myself off from customers and go on to automatic pilot, but this time I felt every disgusting shunt up my dirty little cunt! I felt disgusted and ashamed and stupid. Ugly, stupid slut – you deserved all you got!
I did not tell anyone, because I was ashamed and felt it was my fault. I went for a holiday back to Wellington to my old stoner friends, but I did not fit in there anymore, and returned feeling lost and alone. Work was no fun anymore. I found it hard to pretend I was having fun with the customers. I no longer flirted with my Daddy figure boss and he sensed my withdrawal. He became very controlling of me - his asset. I left and went to another parlour.
Then I met my future husband. Someone loved me after all. I stopped being a paid slut and he stopped being a drug dealer’s body guard and thief. We moved away from Auckland and started a new straight life together.
Happily ever after it was not. Zoom through 19 years moving to many places with kids in tow. The feisty part of me slowly died through a destructive marriage to an emotionally stunted, violent man with a drinking problem and my own marijuana habit. I had lost myself completely.
But then I was reborn! I gained some certificates, got work, kicked the dope, lost the husband and went to university. I was in control of my children’s lives and myself. A fresh start. Then I discovered BDSM! Wow – my life took a running leap and landed on a very cushy mat. Hard time, but good times.
Except for one time on the top I was learning to be a sub. Then a switch I had bottomed to let me top him. He turned on me and fought me until I could not hold him off anymore. He cuffed me and laughed at me. He said that he would beat me until I cried. Instead of trying to talk him down or screaming for help I went cold and numb inside. I did not back down from the challenge, because I was furious with him and the tough punk rocker surfaced and refused to back down. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of me crying and I was not going to show any pleasure in this.
After a long while of no consent he finally said that he would beat me with his belt and asked me if that was ok. In the weird state I was in by then I agreed to this ridiculous challenge. He finally gave up after the most severe beating I have ever had. I even had a cup of tea with him and thought it was all ok! Then driving home from Auckland to Hamilton I broke out of the coma and could not stop crying. I phoned him to explain how bad I felt. He just laughed at me. I realised then that this was his plan to break a strong woman. He had told me he was tired of weak subs and wanted a strong woman – now I know why. Stupid slut look what you got yourself in for this time – you deserved all you got.
A vanilla friend helped me to realise that because we had negotiated for me to top him and that there was a long period of no consent then that period was RAPE. I held on to this through a very destructive and lost time. All that power I had regained after my marriage break up had been stripped away from me. I was back to the bewildered and scared little girl in that toilet, as the shamed out slut waking up from the drugged gang bang, as the messed up hooker under the fat taxi driver and as the sad old mother and wife to the embarrassing drunk. Stupid old slut – haven’t you learned anything!
What got me through was my children, the support of friends and the realisation that it was rape – I was not to blame - my history was. I still am mad at myself for not yelling out and for my anger taking over my reasoning, but I was angry at him and all the other people that had taken away my power. That is a lot to back down from.
I moved then into a manipulative relationship with a dom and eventually moved into a house with him and my kids. He showed me love I lapped it up and like the loved starved slut I was I closed my eyes to the warning signs until they were staring me in the face. I discovered he was into kiddy porn. I kicked him out of the house and a few years later thanks to my reporting he served time in prison for pictures of children in BDSM contexts that were as young as seven.
Somehow I climbed out of all this mess. I graduated university, I brought up two awesome kids and I made some awesome friends. I became a dominant and my personal power bloomed much more than it ever did before thanks to my wonderful deceased sub slavetreva and some really cool friends along the way. I have people writing to me all the time saying how much they enjoy my writing on BDSM. I now have a fantastic young sub and fun playmates. Thank you all xxx
The good Master I used to play with called me slut in an affectionate way and so a new loving form of slut was reborn in me. I am a slut in how much I love sex and how slutty I can behave – but I am now an exclusive one with only some special people. I am very particular who I have sex with and who dominates me. I try hard to make sure the people I dominate are looked after and know that they are valued by me. I usually only wear ‘slutty clothes’ in the privacy of BDSM spaces. I do not allow others the privilege of seeing me like that.
I am a rape survivor four times over. Only the first was your classic straight forward rape situation. The other three are tangled in their actions, blurred in meaning and therefore easy for fingers of blame to be pointed at me. The thing is that I DID NOT SAY YES TO ANY OF THEM. The last one had a period where there was not consent, even if later there was - but I will add that I was very subbed out by then and it was not how we negotiated the scene. They all knew what they were doing. They all took advantage of the situation to get a trip out of my non consent. They enjoyed stealing my power
We talk about consent over and over again in BDSM, yet when it comes to rape, people are still blaming the clothes and behaviour instead of focussing on what rape is really about. That is someone taking someone else’s power away – WITHOUT CONSENT. Clothes do not give consent – people’s words do.
My little black dress does not mean yes.
When I walked down Queen Street on Saturday I walked in my doc’s symbolising my punk history (if you were not tough enough you were beaten up and had your boots taken off you – no one has ever dared do that to me). I wore a slut top and a bdsm style skirt to represent my lifestyle of fun and consent, my warm coat open for protection from the outside world, but showing the inner slut inside.
I did not want to shun away in the crowd. On the way there I posed for photos laughing and dancing as I subverted Queens St’s business and shopping space – slut on the loose! I walked up the front of the march with a banner and friends. I yelled out hard and loud for all the people before me and all the people ahead of me that have been or will be raped. I yelled out for the pain that we feel. I yelled out at how wrong societal messages are. I yelled out at the people who took my power away from me .... without my consent. I also yelled out at the fun to be an activist again after a break of seven years.
This was a very cleansing moment for me and it helped me remember how much I enjoyed activism when I was a student. A new breath of fresh air has rushed over me. A new direction is about to be known.
Thank you for reading and please remember to always stick to the pre-session negotiation.
Wonder Womyn
Instead I will talk about my personal journey in relation to Slutwalk. I am a rape survivor four times over. I will give you background before moving on to how Slutwalk relates to me at 47 years old marching down Queens St. It is a long story with no juicy bits, this time WW gets serious. Move on if you wish, stay if you want to know more.
I grew up under the tyranny of an emotionally manipulative mother, who has proudly said she brought us up like ‘perfect little zombies’; and an emotionally detached father who barely knew I existed. I rarely brought friends home due to Mum’s extensive screening and blocking programme and except for Mum’s tantrums there was very little noise or communication in our house. Then there was this weird as incident I have only recently recalled as a very young child where something sexually happened with my arse and a stranger in a toilet that was shared by a group of seedy shops. It is too blurry to understand.
Otherwise it was a pretty sweet childhood with little complaints other than being taught that girls and women had to behave and appear differently to boys and men – and that was just how the world worked – so don’t be difficult by asking questions and know that men were in charge. Put on your pink clothes, ride your bike like a women, don’t get dirty and no you cannot play soccer because you will get hurt!
However, the above conditions produced a painfully shy and paranoid kid until my first boyfriend at 14 years old when I came alive. Also I have always had and still do have communication difficulties in female friendship, whereas I have often felt an affinity with boys and men.
Cue: a montage of the teenage stoner, party animal with the same manipulative first boyfriend. We learned about sex together and there was no one to ruin my penthouse and cosmopolitan informed ideas of being a sexually liberated woman. I was the woman that could eat more, drink more and take more drugs than the other women and never cough when I spotted oil. I wondered what it would be like to be a slut and have more sex than other women.
I then slimmed down and transformed into an ‘in your face’ punk rocker in my early 20’s and ditched the boyfriend. I thought I was ugly and then I discovered I could score men at parties – what an awesome game that turned out to be. Oooh he’s hot, I wonder if I can score him – yay another notch in my belt – if it is good enough for men then it is good enough for women. I loved sex and my appetite was insatiable. It started as a fun game, but through the haze of heavy drinking and drugs it became a desperate search for someone to spend the night with me instead of being alone. I scored bad skinheads in one scene and hung out with the nice stoner friends in another. There were fucks, competition, anti conformity and hard times in one scene and fading friendships and mellow times in the other. I became a slut and I was labelled as such by men who were sluts themselves.
What protected me was that I could fight really well and I would scare the shit out of the boring normal people of Wellington, and so the men respected me and were amused by me and the women feared me. I had a few female friends who tried to warn me about my slut rep, but I did not listen.
One night I was at a party with a different crowd at an acquaintance’s house. I was looking for fresh meat in a new scene. I was given a joint that was laced with angel dust. I thought I was sleeping on the floor next to the acquaintance’s bed and being fucked by his friend. When I woke up in the morning I discovered that his entire rugby league team, and then some, had been through me. I felt shame and guilt and disgust in myself. I never saw those people again. Stupid slut – you deserved all you got!
Being a slut had brought me pain and shame and so I tried to find a relationship with the skinheads, but who wants a relationship with a slut? They could not believe that I would remain faithful. I had spent so much energy in pretending to be a nasty, tough punk rocker that they did not know the true me anyway. Then I got a boyfriend who had broken up with his wife. He was wanted by the law and it seemed exciting at the time. I went to a party one day and as I walked up the street and into the house all the skins and punks yelled “slut, slut, slut, slut”. What could I do, but hold my head high and not let them get to me. Once inside I discovered why they were doing that. There was his wife returned from a break away and she was fully pregnant. It had all been lies and manipulation. Stupid slut – did you really think you were worthy of being loved?
After he went to court and was sentenced to an alcohol programme I slashed my wrists and ended up in good old Porirua Hospital for a few days observation. I then realised that I had nothing to complain about when I saw what others went through with mental illnesses. I came out a new, but broken woman.
That week our unofficial leader was stabbed to death at a party I went to. It was time to move on up to stay with Mum for a spell then off to Auckland. It was the same sort of scene, but friendlier. I was starting a fresh with new people and doing it in a new way. What job could a messed up young women do with a flat full of people on heroin? I was damn good at sex, everyone told me so – why not get paid for it. I became a paid slut!
I felt I had gained some control in my life. I had money, I had new drugs, new parties, and I fucked people in my scene that were worthy of my friendship. I called the shots - and I had a new game to play! Entice the customers so that they move on from a massage to sex. If they didn’t then we did not get paid. If I did not get paid, I could not party and wear cool clothes and I could not keep up with the heroin culture of my new scene. Flirt + entice = survival and fun. I moved up to being the second most requested girl in the parlour.
One night a huge gross taxi driver came in and chose me. He told me that he had no money for sex, but wanted a massage. I did what we were trained to do, and I hoped that maybe he was not a time waster after all, that maybe he had some money tucked under that huge fat gut after all. I was good at what I did, and so I was up for a challenge. Flirt and entice, do the sensual massage, get the fucker horny, get money for drugs and fun. Wank, wank, money in the bank!
He pinned me down and said I was a dirty little tart and deserved to be taught a lesson. He fucked me without a condom. I could hardly breathe under his sweaty fat mass. I thought I was going to suffocate. I usually could shut part of myself off from customers and go on to automatic pilot, but this time I felt every disgusting shunt up my dirty little cunt! I felt disgusted and ashamed and stupid. Ugly, stupid slut – you deserved all you got!
I did not tell anyone, because I was ashamed and felt it was my fault. I went for a holiday back to Wellington to my old stoner friends, but I did not fit in there anymore, and returned feeling lost and alone. Work was no fun anymore. I found it hard to pretend I was having fun with the customers. I no longer flirted with my Daddy figure boss and he sensed my withdrawal. He became very controlling of me - his asset. I left and went to another parlour.
Then I met my future husband. Someone loved me after all. I stopped being a paid slut and he stopped being a drug dealer’s body guard and thief. We moved away from Auckland and started a new straight life together.
Happily ever after it was not. Zoom through 19 years moving to many places with kids in tow. The feisty part of me slowly died through a destructive marriage to an emotionally stunted, violent man with a drinking problem and my own marijuana habit. I had lost myself completely.
But then I was reborn! I gained some certificates, got work, kicked the dope, lost the husband and went to university. I was in control of my children’s lives and myself. A fresh start. Then I discovered BDSM! Wow – my life took a running leap and landed on a very cushy mat. Hard time, but good times.
Except for one time on the top I was learning to be a sub. Then a switch I had bottomed to let me top him. He turned on me and fought me until I could not hold him off anymore. He cuffed me and laughed at me. He said that he would beat me until I cried. Instead of trying to talk him down or screaming for help I went cold and numb inside. I did not back down from the challenge, because I was furious with him and the tough punk rocker surfaced and refused to back down. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of me crying and I was not going to show any pleasure in this.
After a long while of no consent he finally said that he would beat me with his belt and asked me if that was ok. In the weird state I was in by then I agreed to this ridiculous challenge. He finally gave up after the most severe beating I have ever had. I even had a cup of tea with him and thought it was all ok! Then driving home from Auckland to Hamilton I broke out of the coma and could not stop crying. I phoned him to explain how bad I felt. He just laughed at me. I realised then that this was his plan to break a strong woman. He had told me he was tired of weak subs and wanted a strong woman – now I know why. Stupid slut look what you got yourself in for this time – you deserved all you got.
A vanilla friend helped me to realise that because we had negotiated for me to top him and that there was a long period of no consent then that period was RAPE. I held on to this through a very destructive and lost time. All that power I had regained after my marriage break up had been stripped away from me. I was back to the bewildered and scared little girl in that toilet, as the shamed out slut waking up from the drugged gang bang, as the messed up hooker under the fat taxi driver and as the sad old mother and wife to the embarrassing drunk. Stupid old slut – haven’t you learned anything!
What got me through was my children, the support of friends and the realisation that it was rape – I was not to blame - my history was. I still am mad at myself for not yelling out and for my anger taking over my reasoning, but I was angry at him and all the other people that had taken away my power. That is a lot to back down from.
I moved then into a manipulative relationship with a dom and eventually moved into a house with him and my kids. He showed me love I lapped it up and like the loved starved slut I was I closed my eyes to the warning signs until they were staring me in the face. I discovered he was into kiddy porn. I kicked him out of the house and a few years later thanks to my reporting he served time in prison for pictures of children in BDSM contexts that were as young as seven.
Somehow I climbed out of all this mess. I graduated university, I brought up two awesome kids and I made some awesome friends. I became a dominant and my personal power bloomed much more than it ever did before thanks to my wonderful deceased sub slavetreva and some really cool friends along the way. I have people writing to me all the time saying how much they enjoy my writing on BDSM. I now have a fantastic young sub and fun playmates. Thank you all xxx
The good Master I used to play with called me slut in an affectionate way and so a new loving form of slut was reborn in me. I am a slut in how much I love sex and how slutty I can behave – but I am now an exclusive one with only some special people. I am very particular who I have sex with and who dominates me. I try hard to make sure the people I dominate are looked after and know that they are valued by me. I usually only wear ‘slutty clothes’ in the privacy of BDSM spaces. I do not allow others the privilege of seeing me like that.
I am a rape survivor four times over. Only the first was your classic straight forward rape situation. The other three are tangled in their actions, blurred in meaning and therefore easy for fingers of blame to be pointed at me. The thing is that I DID NOT SAY YES TO ANY OF THEM. The last one had a period where there was not consent, even if later there was - but I will add that I was very subbed out by then and it was not how we negotiated the scene. They all knew what they were doing. They all took advantage of the situation to get a trip out of my non consent. They enjoyed stealing my power
We talk about consent over and over again in BDSM, yet when it comes to rape, people are still blaming the clothes and behaviour instead of focussing on what rape is really about. That is someone taking someone else’s power away – WITHOUT CONSENT. Clothes do not give consent – people’s words do.
My little black dress does not mean yes.
When I walked down Queen Street on Saturday I walked in my doc’s symbolising my punk history (if you were not tough enough you were beaten up and had your boots taken off you – no one has ever dared do that to me). I wore a slut top and a bdsm style skirt to represent my lifestyle of fun and consent, my warm coat open for protection from the outside world, but showing the inner slut inside.
I did not want to shun away in the crowd. On the way there I posed for photos laughing and dancing as I subverted Queens St’s business and shopping space – slut on the loose! I walked up the front of the march with a banner and friends. I yelled out hard and loud for all the people before me and all the people ahead of me that have been or will be raped. I yelled out for the pain that we feel. I yelled out at how wrong societal messages are. I yelled out at the people who took my power away from me .... without my consent. I also yelled out at the fun to be an activist again after a break of seven years.
This was a very cleansing moment for me and it helped me remember how much I enjoyed activism when I was a student. A new breath of fresh air has rushed over me. A new direction is about to be known.
Thank you for reading and please remember to always stick to the pre-session negotiation.
Wonder Womyn
Thursday, June 16, 2011
For this and so much more ...
Your service to my needs
Your curves under my hand
Your warmth radiating against my body
Your thirst meeting my passion
Your strength bowing to my power
Your tolerance raising to my sadism
For this and so much more I thank you for coming into my life
xxWWxx
Your curves under my hand
Your warmth radiating against my body
Your thirst meeting my passion
Your strength bowing to my power
Your tolerance raising to my sadism
For this and so much more I thank you for coming into my life
xxWWxx
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Maakari Toa
She is tiny – and I mean tiny - but has a bum big enough to grab, grope and whack … extremely hard. At first I was scared to play with someone that small in case I would break her in two, but I soon found out she is Maakari Toa – the Little Warrior.
Maakari Toa may have had a hard life, but she is still very sweet, genuinely lovely and very witty. If someone needs assistance or is being harassed Maakari Toa swoops swiftly in righting the wrongs, helping all and sundry, and ensuring that those she cares about are comfortable, well fed and content. Always on the go, she only rests when everyone is looked after or she is releasing her beautiful spirit in play. While service is her forte, masochism is her life breath.
Such a strong, fit, defiant and beautiful Toa; her voice and mannerisms gentle; making you laugh with her funny observations and sprightly attitude as she dishes out compliments all round. If only she could see what we all see - hot, sexy, funny, beautiful, passionate, witty, gentle - but so strong … and an amazing masochist.
When I play with the Maakari Toa the world stands still and watches in amazement. The buzz I get from releasing my sadistic energy hard on this incredible warrior is a rush that is difficult to describe. She is a sadist’s dream come true. She not only takes it well, but I can see her spirit rise and inflate and spin in wondrous directions the further I push her. Our energy inspires us to go to beautiful places; and the rush of making this warrior cum from my pain is euphoric. We feed on each other’s energies. Watching her cum from caning her inner thighs will always be a highlight in my BDSM memoir. This woman deserves a special place in New Zealand’s BDSM history – if only she had the opportunity to shine.
There is so much to explore with her. I once owned a super masochist, but he died. I once was a masochist whose spirit soured high from extreme impact play. However, I have never played with a female masochist quite like this. I thought I could finally return to the level I lusted for, but alas Maakari Toa is going vanilla for awhile!
Her life has become too difficult not to be vanilla at the moment. For with the Toa it is all or nothing. Nooooo! I respect her decision, but I so want to dominate this super masochist, to inflict pain on her that only a warrior can handle and watch her melt into an adrenalin fuelled subspace that matches my sadistic space so very well. To own such an amazing being would be a huge honour that I would respect and love.
For the time being I get to enjoy her company and encourage her in her life. I draw on the memories of hot, wild plays filled with wondrous pain. Here is one such memory. I will entertain you with more later.
Maakari Toa kneels before me silent and nervous, waiting to play. She has provided me with an array of nibbles and beverages placed beautifully on the table. There is more on an after play tray waiting in the kitchen. She has just put black shiny stilettos on my stocking covered feet. Her slave spirit is settled knowing that all has been done. It is now time for the masochist to enter our space!
Stroking my legs, admiring them along with my shoes, she suddenly realises that she did not have permission to touch me. She draws back and controls her hands on her splendid legs, whispering’ “Sorry Ma’am”. I have never liked the word ‘Ma’am’ yet it really works well between her and I. Our special word!
Her little breasts heave encased in her black opaque play dress; the floral detail highlighting their delicate form. Maakari Toa’s doe eyes are lowered as her dark brown hair flows gently around her splendour neck and shoulders. I can tell it is taking quite a bit of control to stay still and wait in anticipation. How lucky am I to play with such a beauty? Smiling, I wait a little bit longer just to build the tension more.
I am impressed with the hard flogging I am giving her. There is no point in starting with the soft floggers! Her olive skin seems so velvety; yet when I use all my force on her tiny back with the skin cutting flogger it only leaves marks. The harder I go the more defiant her stance is, and the more alive she becomes. I snap the thin rubber flogger like a wet tea towel on her back and bum repeatedly. Her body draws in. I leave it there for some time before I allow a few seconds respite for the strong muscles to shift her body back into place and stretch her arms back up the wall. Quickly she pushes her petite round bottom back out ready for more. I observe her face hard against the wall, grinning between blows, daring me to try to destroy her. I hear her breathe quicken with excitement and anticipation.
It is quite a task to moderate my play to such a small body after playing with my bois and voluptuous women. I love a challenge and she proves to be a very exciting one. The moves need to be more precise. If a stray flogger hits that cute gap between her legs it could bring her out of subspace. She has had kidney damage from play with another. I am not about to repeat his ridiculous mistake. I move her to a leaning position over the back of the couch with a pile of cushions in place. Her sway back protrudes her bottom deliciously into place. Turning to impact play I go full strength with everything in my arsenal and little build up. It reminds me of playing with my painslut before cancer robbed him off his strength. Is she even aware of how much this heals my spirit? The more I know Maakari Toa the more I realise how she does not acknowledge her own strengths and her good work. Therefore, these words are written here instead of whispered in her ear after play when we curl up on the couch melting into each other.
I pound her firm buttocks like a drum in time the music of ‘The White Stripes’ with my two hard wooden spoons. This shifts to golf swing movements as she braces herself clenching the cushions, she watches me smiling in amazement. This girl is in awe of my skills just as I am in awe of her tolerance.
I suddenly sip my juice leaving her wondering what is next. I draw my two crops out. They have a sting that she both loves and hates. I rapidly dance the crops hard all over her body whipping them violently on her back, bum and thighs. Her breathe becomes louder and more laboured. Just as she sinks into the endless pain I change to the thuddy truncheon, moving from pounding to golf swing blows. This is followed with a different sting of the dressage crop.
After a while we arrive at the cane - my absolute favourite BDSM implement. I love to work up to this moment with anyone, but with a painslut like this we both soar in a frenzy of pain from canes both thick and thin. I start off with teasing movements – soft, soft, medium, medium, hard, harder! This repetition increases in intensity as the cane whooshes between strokes and I move from one side to the other. Allowing her to get her breath back and prepare for the inevitable, I work up in waves of pain towards golf swing caning. She loves it! Maakari Toa is cuming in delightful moans. Whack-whack, whack, whack!
How can she handle such pain and be in such ecstasy? This girl is a wonder. I know that feeling from my past, but I am sure it was not with such intensity. Her slim legs quivering as she braces herself against the couch almost ready to drop. In a hoarse whisper I ask her if she wants to stop or go on. I know the answer before it leaves her lips. “Please Ma’am, can I have more”. What is a sadist to do!
I lie her on the couch and spread her trembling legs wide open, exposing her glistening, wet tender inner labia. An olive version of the thinnest slices of salmon you have ever seen. I see down her tight little hole and look forward to exploring it later. I have always wanted to do this since hearing about it in ‘The Story of O’. No warm up this time Toa! I am straight in with my school cane - hard out on her toned thighs. I focus on getting in the right area, and all the time her dark eyes are shining at me daring me to go further, her lips braced in a smile that shows her struggling to not safe word or close her legs. “Good girl,” I say. “You are doing well”.
Bang, bang, bang - WHAM! Maakari Toa lets out quiet moans working up to loud. Her face is in raptures, her body spent as she cums from our favourite game – sadomasochism! We hug as she quivers in after cum rapture. “Oh, Ma’am that was so good. You are incredible”. I smile with tears in my eyes, “No you are incredible. You are so amazing and beautiful, thank you so much - that was fantastic”!
Until we met she had never cum from impact play. It has been a huge pleasure to bring her to such special moments of pain and ecstasy. Oh Maakari Toa, you cannot deny yourself that which sets your spirit alive!
Will she return to BDSM? Will we play again? Will we form the bond that seemed to be developing between us before she was forced to turn vanilla? I am watching this space the same as you!
Maakari Toa may have had a hard life, but she is still very sweet, genuinely lovely and very witty. If someone needs assistance or is being harassed Maakari Toa swoops swiftly in righting the wrongs, helping all and sundry, and ensuring that those she cares about are comfortable, well fed and content. Always on the go, she only rests when everyone is looked after or she is releasing her beautiful spirit in play. While service is her forte, masochism is her life breath.
Such a strong, fit, defiant and beautiful Toa; her voice and mannerisms gentle; making you laugh with her funny observations and sprightly attitude as she dishes out compliments all round. If only she could see what we all see - hot, sexy, funny, beautiful, passionate, witty, gentle - but so strong … and an amazing masochist.
When I play with the Maakari Toa the world stands still and watches in amazement. The buzz I get from releasing my sadistic energy hard on this incredible warrior is a rush that is difficult to describe. She is a sadist’s dream come true. She not only takes it well, but I can see her spirit rise and inflate and spin in wondrous directions the further I push her. Our energy inspires us to go to beautiful places; and the rush of making this warrior cum from my pain is euphoric. We feed on each other’s energies. Watching her cum from caning her inner thighs will always be a highlight in my BDSM memoir. This woman deserves a special place in New Zealand’s BDSM history – if only she had the opportunity to shine.
There is so much to explore with her. I once owned a super masochist, but he died. I once was a masochist whose spirit soured high from extreme impact play. However, I have never played with a female masochist quite like this. I thought I could finally return to the level I lusted for, but alas Maakari Toa is going vanilla for awhile!
Her life has become too difficult not to be vanilla at the moment. For with the Toa it is all or nothing. Nooooo! I respect her decision, but I so want to dominate this super masochist, to inflict pain on her that only a warrior can handle and watch her melt into an adrenalin fuelled subspace that matches my sadistic space so very well. To own such an amazing being would be a huge honour that I would respect and love.
For the time being I get to enjoy her company and encourage her in her life. I draw on the memories of hot, wild plays filled with wondrous pain. Here is one such memory. I will entertain you with more later.
Maakari Toa kneels before me silent and nervous, waiting to play. She has provided me with an array of nibbles and beverages placed beautifully on the table. There is more on an after play tray waiting in the kitchen. She has just put black shiny stilettos on my stocking covered feet. Her slave spirit is settled knowing that all has been done. It is now time for the masochist to enter our space!
Stroking my legs, admiring them along with my shoes, she suddenly realises that she did not have permission to touch me. She draws back and controls her hands on her splendid legs, whispering’ “Sorry Ma’am”. I have never liked the word ‘Ma’am’ yet it really works well between her and I. Our special word!
Her little breasts heave encased in her black opaque play dress; the floral detail highlighting their delicate form. Maakari Toa’s doe eyes are lowered as her dark brown hair flows gently around her splendour neck and shoulders. I can tell it is taking quite a bit of control to stay still and wait in anticipation. How lucky am I to play with such a beauty? Smiling, I wait a little bit longer just to build the tension more.
I am impressed with the hard flogging I am giving her. There is no point in starting with the soft floggers! Her olive skin seems so velvety; yet when I use all my force on her tiny back with the skin cutting flogger it only leaves marks. The harder I go the more defiant her stance is, and the more alive she becomes. I snap the thin rubber flogger like a wet tea towel on her back and bum repeatedly. Her body draws in. I leave it there for some time before I allow a few seconds respite for the strong muscles to shift her body back into place and stretch her arms back up the wall. Quickly she pushes her petite round bottom back out ready for more. I observe her face hard against the wall, grinning between blows, daring me to try to destroy her. I hear her breathe quicken with excitement and anticipation.
It is quite a task to moderate my play to such a small body after playing with my bois and voluptuous women. I love a challenge and she proves to be a very exciting one. The moves need to be more precise. If a stray flogger hits that cute gap between her legs it could bring her out of subspace. She has had kidney damage from play with another. I am not about to repeat his ridiculous mistake. I move her to a leaning position over the back of the couch with a pile of cushions in place. Her sway back protrudes her bottom deliciously into place. Turning to impact play I go full strength with everything in my arsenal and little build up. It reminds me of playing with my painslut before cancer robbed him off his strength. Is she even aware of how much this heals my spirit? The more I know Maakari Toa the more I realise how she does not acknowledge her own strengths and her good work. Therefore, these words are written here instead of whispered in her ear after play when we curl up on the couch melting into each other.
I pound her firm buttocks like a drum in time the music of ‘The White Stripes’ with my two hard wooden spoons. This shifts to golf swing movements as she braces herself clenching the cushions, she watches me smiling in amazement. This girl is in awe of my skills just as I am in awe of her tolerance.
I suddenly sip my juice leaving her wondering what is next. I draw my two crops out. They have a sting that she both loves and hates. I rapidly dance the crops hard all over her body whipping them violently on her back, bum and thighs. Her breathe becomes louder and more laboured. Just as she sinks into the endless pain I change to the thuddy truncheon, moving from pounding to golf swing blows. This is followed with a different sting of the dressage crop.
After a while we arrive at the cane - my absolute favourite BDSM implement. I love to work up to this moment with anyone, but with a painslut like this we both soar in a frenzy of pain from canes both thick and thin. I start off with teasing movements – soft, soft, medium, medium, hard, harder! This repetition increases in intensity as the cane whooshes between strokes and I move from one side to the other. Allowing her to get her breath back and prepare for the inevitable, I work up in waves of pain towards golf swing caning. She loves it! Maakari Toa is cuming in delightful moans. Whack-whack, whack, whack!
How can she handle such pain and be in such ecstasy? This girl is a wonder. I know that feeling from my past, but I am sure it was not with such intensity. Her slim legs quivering as she braces herself against the couch almost ready to drop. In a hoarse whisper I ask her if she wants to stop or go on. I know the answer before it leaves her lips. “Please Ma’am, can I have more”. What is a sadist to do!
I lie her on the couch and spread her trembling legs wide open, exposing her glistening, wet tender inner labia. An olive version of the thinnest slices of salmon you have ever seen. I see down her tight little hole and look forward to exploring it later. I have always wanted to do this since hearing about it in ‘The Story of O’. No warm up this time Toa! I am straight in with my school cane - hard out on her toned thighs. I focus on getting in the right area, and all the time her dark eyes are shining at me daring me to go further, her lips braced in a smile that shows her struggling to not safe word or close her legs. “Good girl,” I say. “You are doing well”.
Bang, bang, bang - WHAM! Maakari Toa lets out quiet moans working up to loud. Her face is in raptures, her body spent as she cums from our favourite game – sadomasochism! We hug as she quivers in after cum rapture. “Oh, Ma’am that was so good. You are incredible”. I smile with tears in my eyes, “No you are incredible. You are so amazing and beautiful, thank you so much - that was fantastic”!
Until we met she had never cum from impact play. It has been a huge pleasure to bring her to such special moments of pain and ecstasy. Oh Maakari Toa, you cannot deny yourself that which sets your spirit alive!
Will she return to BDSM? Will we play again? Will we form the bond that seemed to be developing between us before she was forced to turn vanilla? I am watching this space the same as you!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)