Once upon a rain storm

Another episode in the continuing series of flashback posts that Chloe has been doing. This time, John makes a contribution.

Chloe wanted me to contribute to the “Once upon a… ” posting set and I will go back to one particular scene she engineered at a camp we attended.

It was our first time at “camp”, having been lured there by two friends in kink who were beautiful and wonderful people. And were great at helping to engineer an good abduction and torture scene.

Chloe had rigged up a nice spot down on the lawn near the pool and dining hall. A high traffic area. We had this kind of spanking bench we had brought with us. I brought it down to the area she designated, she posted a sign or two, as she is famous for her signs. To this day, I don’t know what the signs said. But I do know that they invited people to do things to me. There was some measure of cock sucking involved, there were people who beat me, there were people who fingered my ass and people just wanted to touch. And that was all okay and it was what people did for a good hour or more.

It was a very hot summer at camp. Temperatures in this section of the mid-atlantic were well into the 90’s and people lived in the pool. And with such temperatures and summer heat, it was inevitable that summer storms rolled through. There I was, bound hand, foot and neck on the spanking bench, having had people doing terrible* things to me. Chloe was sitting nearby in the shade while I, out in the sun, was used and abused.** There was a veritable parade of people who stopped in, some of which we play with to this day. But more to the point, the weather turned. I was in the sun, she in the shade. Lube had dripped down my ass and down my thighs. My cock, tortured and teased also dripped. The sky darkened. The high traffic area became low traffic. We were on a downward slope and little risk of lightning where we were, but the storm blew in quickly. Chloe sat in the shade while the rain started. I remained bound to the bench, rained on. The rain became hard, even painful as it struck my body. It was almost at the point where you stick your arm out of the car while driving down the highway in the rain. All the heat and anxiousness of being laid out in public to be used was washed away. All the concern, all the worry, it all simply was washed away as the rain pelted on my back and ass and legs and feet.

Having already been in a head space where I was floating and heated, the rain washed through me, a cleansing bath, one of the more public instances of my being abused out in front of others. And the rain baptized me in the society of kink where my sins were… well… part of the life I was in. My sins had no forgiveness in this baptism, as there was nothing to forgive. But perhaps it was any misgivings I might have had, any doubt I might have had, any worries about accepting my kinky self were washed away in that rain. I was born anew, baptized in the waters of the camp and welcomed into the church of the inherently kinky and accepted into a tribe.

Man in rain

Man in rain

I was unclipped from the bench. I was so spacey, so drifty, so much head space… and she escorted me up the hill, the rain still pouring down over both of us. I naked, her not nearly so. We returned to our cabin space wherein our roommates had already taken refuge from the storm relishing in the relief of the temperature drop from the rain. And here she was, walking her dog up the hill, in the rain naked. His body chilled from the outlay of energy into others, washed off from rain, dripping with wetness… and she lay me down on the dog pillow beside our bed, a towel roughly drying me, then a blanket covering me. And all through my laying down and coming down I heard the soundtrack to Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, by Bob Dylan.

To this day, the soundtrack of Pat Garrett exists between Chloe and I as a beautiful soundtrack to our life together. And it all comes back to this scene at a beautiful camp when she was able to craft a wonderful and perfect scene, one that began innocently enough, with me, her and a couple signs. And it rose and roared in the heavens, rained down upon us to wash so much away, but left us together in our space to come back to each other again later… recovered, rejuvenated and so deeply attached to each other.

Even as I write this, I’ve called up the soundtrack on my computer to listen to, just so I can hearken back to some of the wonderful feelings I shared with her on that day.

Since then, we’ve been back to this camp countless times, joined the staff, met many people, had so many scenes together there. We know this camp far more intimately than many of its participants and we are continuously drawn to it. And we share these memories with each other across so many miles and years and can only smile at the thoughts of them.

 


 

*By terrible I mean delightful wonderful and deliciously tortuous things… ;)

**Ibid

T time indeed.

NakedMenPlayingWithTheirBalls

John was correct in his post yesterday; it was lovely indeed to have ‘t’ over to our place, visiting us where we live for the first time. t seemed comfortable, so very soon after his arrival, and after john got home and changed into his naked, collared self, t was instructed to join john in that nakedness.  Two naked submissive men, working together to cook our meal. How lovely.

I really, really enjoyed being home, having this night unfold the way it did. Our place has an open concept so that the sitting area and kitchen area all flow together. I was sitting at the long table, doing some writing, and was able to look up and see john and t in the kitchen, working as they were. Two naked, male forms. They chatted easily, occasionally brushing so closely to one another, I wondered if their bodies touched. They do not have permission to touch one another in any intentional way without my directive. Working in close proximity, sure…it happens, but that is not what I am talking about. I have yet to determine what might happen between the two of them. I am more interested in seeing how it all fits together. Chemistry is nearly everything for me. I am observing that first and foremost. The rest is to be determined.

I very much enjoyed that t brought wine, things to contribute for dinner, etc. That is part of the fitting in. He will be trained in what I like. john will help with this. I’m not hard to figure out. I just have my ways, and I am particular about them. That’s all. :-)

Yes, the spanking. How absolutely lovely to administer a spanking to a spanking virgin. I did not know he had never been spanked before. This is all new to t. I love his enthusiasm, his interest and open curiosity. The spanking helped us round a corner. I have a streak of sadism within me that I have to keep in check, not wanting to overwhelm someone new. When I see someone wiggling and groaning, it makes me want to do more, evoke more. I like it! t did some of that wiggling and groaning, but overall, he was very well behaved. And I was too. He should thank me for that, I think. :-)

I like t. I like the possibilities. I like that he is open and happy to experience what we have to offer. He seems to be here for the service and for the fun of that service. It makes introducing him to it all the more fun.

On another note, it was strange to not blog for the days I was not blogging. I missed it. I’m glad to be back. More to come.

 

 

When I’m on fire…..

I want to make a few comments on john’s post from yesterday, “Switching“.

For me, I thought it was hot as hell. I know that’s a very personal observation, and I am being purely subjective, vs objective.

It’s personal because when I took my first, terrifying, tentative steps into the world of BDSM, John was there. He was, and has been, my primary partner and my most trusted everything. I learned my entire platform of learning from him.

I started as a submissive, or, at least, I thought I was submissive. All of my fantasies….the ones that turned me on, the ones I’d reach under the covers and touch myself to when when I was a teenager…. all had me as the heroine in distress, where I was rescued, held captive, and loving tortured for the rest of my happy days. For years and years (like, 25!), those were my fantasies.

Then, I met John, and he was the exact embodiment of those fantasies, and I swooned.

I still swoon over this guy, and it’s been a decade.

We learned very quickly that there is nothing submissive about my personality. I simply can’t hack being submissive and being told what to do for more than about 9 minutes. But bottoming? I didn’t know there was a difference, but once I learned the difference between bottoming and submitting, I clearly knew that I was a dominant who liked to bottom on occasion.

Really….the absolute best of both worlds, if you ask me.

As I learned and saw more within the BDSM world, my fantasies became deeper and darker.  They became darker because I included things in them I didn’t even knew existed. Who knew you could actually apply  lots of fire to a human body and have it be sexy and amazing??  I didn’t know that at age 20 or even 25. I didn’t know until I did fire play….one of the nicest things ever! I’ve tried so many things, things I never, ever thought I would try.

I am also very content knowing that some things are much better left in fantasy than in reality but for the most part, so much of it is simply amazing!

So it goes.

But John was always the exact cornerstone of my fantasy base. When I met him, I lost 40 pounds because I forgot to eat. I am not kidding, at all. That is how much I was captivated.

So, about John’s post from yesterday, his dominant side: I know it is there. I know how turned on I get when I get to see it. It’s the best aphrodisiac in the world for me.

But reading it also make me realize something that was hard for me to admit. Sad, even.

What hit me when I read his post ‘Switching’ was that I am simply not brave enough to handle his deepest, sadistic side.

I really don’t think I will get to be that girl, because I just don’t think I can hack it. I don’t think I could handle what I know he could mete.

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These are particularly deep, kinky places that we are talking about. They are not for everyone. I don’t know that they are for me, even.

I have  been in professional dungeons more times than I can remember, and I have seen everything I can think of seeing, including what I would call “the most extreme” while still remaining SSC (safe, sane, consensual). I really don’t know what John means when he talks about the deepest aspects of his sadism. I haven’t asked, because I don’t actually want to know. Because what if we did decide I could handle it, or try handling it? Then I’d know what to expect, and I don’t want to know those things, I don’t want to remember them. If I am able to have that experience with him, then I want it to be brand new to me.

Knowing that John loves me as he does, it makes my head tingle knowing that we can do these things to one another. How deeply, deeply sexy to create loving torture on the one we care about so much??  John could, if we played out that scene, do terrible things to me, but defining ‘terrible’ is in the eye of the beholder.

And if that were happen, I would want to be sexy about it. I would want to be tied and gagged and immobilized. I would want to be retrained from screaming and running away. Because, I have struggled to handle when he has been particularly hard on me, and with snot running down my face, I have tried to get up and run. Not very sexy at all. I dislike the mental image of that. In my mind, I am strong and stoic and sexy as I endure. In reality, I am a blubbering, sloppy, begging mess. Ugh. Very Unsexy to me.

But I also know that this  messy image is a turn on for others. Again, all in the eye of the beholder.

I just happen to be my own beholder, that’s all.

I don’t have to decide now. But we have not really talked about this level, this side, of his kink in years. Until, that is, he posted about it yesterday. And I smile, knowing we still have so many stones unturned, so many places we can still visit if we so choose.

When I get an itch to bottom, I will crave  him pull my hair, rough me up, spank my ass, boss me around, and fuck me hard and it is enough.  He can intimidate and scare me with his strictness, which I love (ok, it makes me verrry wet). He is a very strong guy, and he can literally do what he wants with me, if he is allowed to. It completely satisfies. And really, I can handle an evening of it, and the itch is scratched, and I am done. It is so incredibly interesting to me, because when nights like this happen, I can literally feel my dominant side (we call her Madame) standing off to the side, tapping her foot, getting impatient to return. I love that she is standing there, as though the bottom of me were getting its tires changes, and Madame is eager to hit the road.

I get that bottom fix, those tires changed, and I am done. Those bags are packed, and I am out the door, as quickly as I came.

Bottoming to me is like vacationing…..nice place to visit a couple of times a year, but I wouldn’t want to live there.

I love living in the land I do: where this female rules the roost, where I am queen of the hill, and where that complex, loving, submissive, loyal, sexy boy john awaits me. That is where I live.

It’s been nice posting about this, thinking about it, and getting roughed up a little bit by John as of late. Such a lovely vacation. Back to reality.

Reality is, it’s 9am, and my boy john is still sleeping, and I am itching to wake him.

<Insert evil smile here>

Good and painful and chocolatey

Yesterday was a good day. For the very large part, it was fantastic.
It had really great moments in it, ones that I didn’t expect to be that good, and ones that made me really happy.

And, it had in it too a few minutes that hurt. I almost cried. I didn’t, but almost.

Date number one was very successful. I am not going to say too, too much in this posting. Not yet, anyway. But suffice it to say, it was really good. I liked him immediately. He had an openness, a happiness, an ease about him and a smile that I found very comfortable to be around. We only had a short 45 minutes to meet because I was teaching a class all day, and didn’t get to take much of a break during the day, but I did scoot out during lunch and meet with him.

He is cute! “Cute” doesn’t matter if you’re an asshole, but this guy did not seem to have any of those qualities. He just seemed…..I dunno…..excited. Curious. Willing to give it a shot.

Our schedules meld perfectly. We live ridiculously close to one another. He does not appear to have any baggage, any bullshit, any reservations that lead me to believe that this does not have potential. I know it’s only the very first meeting, but it would feel a whole lot different if my first impression was shaky and guarded. It was anything but.

Of course, we did not get to talk specifics, and I really wanted to.

I honestly don’t know how he’ll feel about the sexy and  exciting details of what I’m looking for. I did outline those things pretty specifically in my ad, so he must have an idea, but talking about them is another thing all together.

I wonder how he’ll react when he learns that during lunch, I had a hard desire to know what his face looks like when being spanked. That I wanted to see him on his knees, looking up at me, as I looked down upon him, smiling at my new toy.

I wondered what he’ll think when he knows how my imagination is so very amped up right now. I thought of our cute little winter nest here in Maine, me doing some writing while the two are naked in the kitchen, cooking, preparing a cocktail, working together in nothing but flesh and collars. I imagine looking across the room at such a thing, and feeling very delighted.

It’s only the very beginning, yes. And anything could happen, I know. I absolutely need to have a deeper, more detailed conversation. I need to start slowly, thoughtfully and carefully. ‘Cause really…..you only get one chance to make a first impression.

Date one did an excellent job at this. I am delighted. It really couldn’t have gone any better, for the 45 minute date that it was.

I have plans to meet person number 2 tonight. I am curious to see how it goes. And then there is the lovely sounding stephi on friday afternoon. I think this is plenty. Meeting these fine people is just the beginning. What to do with a new toy such as this is totally different.

The painful part of my day?? I’m not even sure I want to write about it. But I will. It’s ridiculous and I’m slightly embarrassed about it, but here it goes.

Last night I was alone, john was out with co-workers, I had my pool league later in the evening. I stopped at home for an hour or so. I needed to do something for dinner. I didn’t want to deal. I didn’t want to go out by myself. So…..I did what any idiot would do…..I finished off the last two inches of the Ben and Jerry’s container, and then had a coke.

What. The. Fuck.

Who does that? Ice cream and soda for dinner?? Jeeze…..I have not done that in I don’t know how long. It was awful. As soon as I did it, I thought, “What the hell, Chloe….that’s disgusting”. But I did it. And then I took a 15 minute power nap before pool.

Ugh.

I was feeling a little tuggy at john. Sometimes I just crave him to take me. So, I texted him and mentioned my crappy choice for dinner. I specifically said, “The last bit of Ben and Jerry’s and a coke are not good dinner choices, and not healthy. I hereby order you to sternly lecture me against such choices”. john is very good at being stern when he wants to be, and I know this. And kinda of like it.

Ok, I like it a lot sometimes, to be honest.

Anyway, that request somehow turned into an over the knee spanking that he administered to me. And then a paddling. Damn, I hate paddles. But, he was fast, not terribly hard, and he caressed my ass cheeks very sweetly with each stroke. I liked it. But I didn’t like so much was taking off my”Mistress” hat, if even for 3o minutes of switchy fun. I am still figuring out how to maintain the small switchy part of our relationship, because I don’t feel submissive in any way.

Sometimes I just want him to take me. End of story.

For a finite period of time, I just want to be overcome by him.

And then it needs to be over. I want and need my power pack after that.

This morning I gazed at his beautifully sleeping form, and immediately secured his collar back around his throat. Right where it belongs. I smiled. I love that my ass still feels a tiny bit warm, and it’s a great itch that I get to get scratched. I love that I can still switch at times with him, because it makes me happy. I am glad that we can do this, and that I can ask for it when I want it. This is good.

I think I might go reward myself with a spoonful of chocolate cake.

Chocolate cake is a good breakfast choice, isn’t it??

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Orange to pink

This morning we went from the beautiful blood moon in all it’s ranges of orange glory and ended up with a full pink moon as Madame colored my bottom before she left for work. It’s been a while since spankings have been around, but it’s good to see their return. Naturally, I protested, but didn’t really want her to stop.

And then back to the coffee, it was, then a nice tie to put on today and off the office. My shirt is a darker reddish hue than my bottom, however.

Renewed blog, renewed energy

I’m not even sure that Chloe knows that I’ve rejuvenated the blog after a long hiatus. But she was very much in possession of her pup this morning. While I did get to sleep in a bit this morning, as is normal, she came to wake me after her shower, first smothering me, then riding me and then spanking my ass just below my balls while I was laying on my back. She also spent some time smacking my balls as well. This angle of ass spanking was a new thing and was more intense than one might think, but it did keep me laying in a very vulnerable state while she beat me. She also warned me that we were alone this weekend and I should expect more and greater punishments and pleasures throughout the weekend. I should also expect that I’ll be chaste for a long time and that my recent spate of ejaculation has ended.

So, with the renewed vigor of the blog itself, my renewed interest in writing in it, the fact that it’s NaNoWriMo (and for some, NaNoBlogMo it seems) and we’re finally moved in together and really “making a home” together… many things are happening. It should be an eventful and playful weekend and I expect to find that I’ll be a bit battered and bruised by the time I get back to work again on Monday.