Spellbound

I write about all of the BDSM scenes that stand out. I write about the ones I do in public, the ones that change who I am, and the ones that I try for the first time. So why is it that I wouldn't want to write about this one? Why is it that I wouldn't want to write about the one that everyone wanted to ask about?

Because I don't know how it fucking happened.

I simply know that it was.

Don't give me that cynical look like you've never been swept up in a goddamn moment before. I know better. We all have. We all have moments where we look back and say, "How the hell did I end up here?"

I simply know that I was standing and talking to two of my friends at the party and I can't even remember why or what I said that was an off-handed side comment in his general direction. Just that it got his attention.

And then I simply do not know.

I know I was lucid but it was like Bette Midler had strolled up in the bar and cast a spell on me.

I'm sure it had something and everything to do with the way he talked about mental dominance and how the most sadistic thing he could do is stop.

I just know I was terrified of this man. Don't worry, it isn't like this is some big shocking confession, he knew. I remember the shock of finding myself naked. I don't remember the point when everyone else stopped existing and it was our world. And I don't know how I got there. In fact, later it would be explained to me as if he and I were the only ones that mattered, I was in a trance early on.

Then it happened. People came up again to compliment my scene and to tell me how amazing it was to watch. I had forgotten there were people there witnessing it. Each and every time I enter subspace it feels a little more like home and I love to go deeper and deeper still. I want to reach the point to where my very existence feels subliminal like a part of the cosmos. And in a scene where my mind can be given, I might get there someday.

You Did What in Public?

I try to make it a point to go to the different fetish parties around town each month. So I went again. And it may classify as one of the best ones yet, at least for my personal experience.

First you have to know, vainly, how absolutely stellar I looked. I had picked up a fetish corset piece. It isn't a real corset and just something for fun and a vinyl mini-skirt. I honestly felt drop dead gorgeous.

The high that I felt from feeling that beautiful was only bolstered by the rest of the evening. I approached a friend at the party; she is a wonderful woman. I asked her if she would be willing to do a scene with me at this party and she agreed. I was ecstatic.

An hour later, I found myself on a stage, in nothing but my lace panties, being cuffed to a huge wooden suspension rig in front of a bar full of people. Cue one of the most amazing experiences of my life. From there came the blindfold, the breast torture, and the public lashings. If I had had any doubts before I left that house that day about who I was really becoming, it all floated beautifully away with each hit as I became soundly and profoundly a version of myself that I loved.

And as the orgasms came (pun intended, you see), I was held up by the cuffs, caught by warm hands, and tenderly cared for as my head was somewhere off in the subspace and my body was just a pile of pretty squishy mush. And as I flittered around in the arms of my friends and caregivers, I heard the most wonderful compliments about how great it was to watch or that I was a beautiful bottom and so on. The high from that experience was unprecedented, unimaginable, and totally blissful.

If I am honest with myself, when I left the house that night wearing that outfit, I thought to myself the me from 5 years ago would not recognize the me from today. But I love the person I am becoming. The person who is okay with her sexuality. The girl who is okay helping others with their sexuality. The woman who feels empowered by her own strength.

Life is Balance

There is never a way to get out of the inevitable balance that is life. Life is beautiful, you know I think that but sometimes it's just a bitch. I mean it. One minute you're enjoying yourself and in the very next breath you find yourself in the middle of a tornadic shit storm.

If I am honest, I am exaggerating a little bit, but it is how I feel. 

I'm in the middle of something I was afraid to feel. I'm in the middle of a sub drop.

A sub drop is (and its equally opposite top drop but I can't talk about that) when the all the endorphins that are pumping through your body through and after a scene bottom out and dissipate. It is an emotional and a physical state stress.

After a weekend of fun, scenes, friends, booze, and sex I feel empty. I don't like it. I don't want this. I want to bask in after glows and happiness. Instead of that, at 2AM I'm asking someone what the hell is happening to me.

There are a lot reactions that each individual could feel from bitchy, needy, whiny, lonely, etc. What I feel or more prominently when the drop first occurred I was very scared, reclusive, confused and I didn't want to be touched. I was unsure of everything about myself. It is a very ugly place to be.

And also extremely apologetic. I felt like I corrupted the world and it was all my fault.

Aftercare, which isn't something I have really talked about, can help curb this and help bring you down safely but it isn't a foolproof resolve. I will write about that too, but the cosmos had to fucking know about the ugly side of this. The part that says everything is in fucking a balance and just to get over it.

Also, writing helped. So there is that.

Shocking Revelations

About a month ago, I told you that I went to a fetish party. Last time, I was considerably late everything was winding down and it was simply very sensual but I was not actively participating. But this time. This time was different.

What was different this time?

I promise it had nothing to do with the beer I had before I got there.

Or the three drinks I had while I was there. Totally not.

What I experienced was a new level of high. Dabbles in voyeurism and exhibitionism; raw sexual energy could be found everywhere.

It wouldn't be long before the feeling that was coursing over my skin and through my veins would be more than adrenaline. I found myself in a dark bar, surrounded by friends who had their eyes on me but my eyes were only on us. A man, a master of the violet wand, who would open up my world. Who would soon be tearing screaming electricity up my skirt, across my body, and down my exposed cleavage.

This was the experience that would change it all.

I could feel the eyes of people around me. They came back to tell me later they saw the moment I lost myself to the spacey feeling of pure pleasure. They watched as I made a quiet plea for him to touch me. And I don't know if anyone will ever know how close I was to cumming. There on that table where I was unable to control a side of me that wants to be free.

A side that was open enough to later strip down, be quite more than half naked in front of a bar full of people. I climbed up on that table, naked in only boots and panties and was taken to a place where I was in pure bliss. Hot, burning wax was being poured onto my flesh and all I could do was think.

I could hear what they were saying. The voices that were so far away. I heard words like "She's so pretty" or "lovely" or "she looks wonderful" floating in on little whispers as I stopped the tears from falling. For in that place, in the place where no one could reach me, in the place where pain pricks and pleases, I realized that I am flawed and I am always going to be that way. I lay there bare and exposed but my heart wept with the social anxiety of 20 years but as their words floated in and around me, carrying me on a cloud, I knew I was naked and I knew I was beautiful.

And I know I will be okay.

This party is not for the faint of heart. There are beatings. There are violent words. There is pain. But there is pleasure. There is a world of understanding and it is waiting to be found. If you think you're interested in this, don't wait. Please, don't hesitate to feel this.

**Image Credit: electroplyr - ArtoftheVioletWand.com

Subspace Nine

Sometimes you have to allow your sexual journey to flow. Or sometimes you have to grab it by the balls and say I'm going to get laid. It was more the latter of those choices when I decided to say yes and get together with [Mostly Harmless].

This meeting though was about a little more than just sex. I was willing and actively seeking to engage in some S&M. I wanted to submit to someone. I wanted to put my body in their hands. I wanted to be punished. And it started with this, a line so dominating in its simplicity, and I was his:


 The next person who shall make you cum is me.And no other. Yourself included.


I didn't know what to do.

I was not scared. But I was nervous. I was lost.

That was when I showed up wearing only my too-short dress, my leather boots, and a willing attitude.

He taught me about safety. He explored my body. And my dominant side shut the fuck up. She let him take her.

And it went that I was whipped. I was spanked, paddled, and flogged. My flesh pricked and teased.

I have never had such a more blissful experience.

That's when I learned about subspace.

In a D/s relationship, [subspace is a] very special place the submissive enters when he/she totally trusts his/her Dominant, and totally immerses in an intense scene. The sub may not be capable of making rational decisions about his/her safety and well-being at this point. It is the responsibility of the Dom to provide for the welfare of his/her sub, as he/she has trusted him to do. It is also the Dom's responsibility after the scene to help the sub to return to "vanilla space" after the scene. This entails providing both physical and emotional assurance to the sub, until he/she regains his/her sense of self, and is known as, "aftercare".

It had been so long since someone had cared about my experience instead of what was just between my legs that I was drunk on endorphins. I let my soul connect to the pain and beat some of the negativity out of me. And when he introduced me to a wartenberg wheel, I had found a simple addiction. It was the was the same high that I would get from a tattoo needle sawing across my flesh.

I couldn't think straight. I couldn't SEE straight. And I was loud.

And as we lay there, waiting for my sanity to bring me back to reality I was warm, cuddled, and petted. We talked and touched and slowly the world came back but I was exhausted, beyond empty.

It was the most sexually satisfied I've ever been without having intercourse and I see the beauty in that. I can't even be sassy about it because I left her at home. That night was about the other side of me and that is okay, too.