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Paddles (and floggers and clothespins and a Wartenberg wheel)

This past Friday, there was an awesome TNG party at Paddles. (TNG parties are always great because this means they are closed to the public— only TNG members and their guests are allowed, which means the space does not get overcrowded and there are no annoying “tourists”.)

After mingling a bit and perusing a few scenes, Master decided to strap me into a chair for a bit of sensation play. The chair I was strapped into had straps on the thighs (the “legs” were on hinges, so I was sitting, but Master could open and close my legs easily to reach various parts of my thighs), a strap around the chest, and a few holding my arms out to the sides. And then he blindfolded me.

A few clothespin-zippers winding around my arms and collar-bone (he always puts clothespins on the areas of my body that have very little fat- ow!), a few beatings with a hard leather paddle, and many miles of Master’s new 7-wheel Wartenberg wheel later, and one or two tears were starting to seep through the blindfold. We took a short break, and then I found myself bent over a bondage horse, my arms restrained to the front legs, my own legs free, but of course I must keep them straight with my ass in the air (and I’m in heels and a corset).

Master liked this position a lot because he could use the flogger and paddle on me with less effort on his part than usual. And he LOVES the Wartenberg wheel— which, of course, is much more effective on beaten-skin. (Ok, I should say that I love it too!)

It was a very fun night. Nothing too intense, but we haven’t played like that in a while, so he knew to start slow. I had only a little red on my upper thighs the next day, but that would all change on Sunday. Stay tuned, kinksters :-)

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Birthday (not mine) Spanking Party

On Sunday, Master and I were invited to a friend’s apartment for an on-going birthday spanking party for his slave. Anyone who came had the opportunity to give her birthday spankings. The festivities started around 2, and continued throughout the evening— so one could drop in on any time. (I made homemade French Onion dip— it was delicious!)

The host graciously made lasagna for everyone who came, and of course there was wine and chocolate galore. Master and I only stayed for a few hours, because there was a party that night that we went to (more on that later). We came, had some food, and Master gave the adorable little slave her birthday spankings with a paddle that I believe the host made. (He makes the most incredible leather and wooden toys, corsets, cuffs, etc. Our own wooden paddle and single-tail-whip/riding crop were made by him.)

And then the entertainment began. I don’t know how many other scenes happened before we came and how many happened after, but the scene that we witnessed was pretty amazing. The host is also a very masterful rope rigger, with a few suspension points in his apartment. He had his little slave get naked, then proceeded to whip her using a number of various implements (including some graciously offered by one or two of the guests). He then tied her hands up so she was on her tippy-toes as he continued to whip and beat her. He also had this beautiful sword that he ran (ever-so gently) along her body, even lightly smacking her with the flat side of it.

A vibrator, some canes, and more rope were also used, and I believe he made the little one cum once or twice while we all watched. The best parts of the scene, however, were the dialogue between not only the host and his slave, but with us, the audience.

I run with a pretty funny crowd. Phrases like, “‘Fuck’ is not a safe word” and “Jesus Christ isn’t here” and “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. What?” (when she had a gag on and was mumbling something). The best, however, was when she was on the floor, one leg tied up, the rest of her tied down (so her legs were spread) and the host used the sword along her inner thighs (again, ever-so gently). He brought the blade very close to her pussy and said, “Don’t you want an extra vagina?” She gave a little shriek and said, “No, I don’t want an extra vagina!” 

I think she had a pretty fantastic birthday. Props to her Master for putting all of that together, and I’m so thankful my own Master and I got to be a part of it.

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My Ass is Leopard-Spotted with Single-Tail Bruises and a Gay Slave Asked to Kiss my Boobs

After the fabulous birthday party Master and I attended, we went back to our apartment and got ourselves ready for a night out at Suspension, run by the always fantastic NY Fetish Tribe. We hadn’t been out to a Tribe event in a while, so we were both looking forward to the space (held at the huge Delancey club in Manhattan) and to seeing a lot of our friends.

We caught up with many people, but I also got to hang out with my newest girl-friend. Seriously, she is the prettiest little sub I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I cannot get over how perfectly beautiful she is. We hung out most of the day on Saturday, and we’re planning on hanging out again soon. She’s so much fun and (if she’s reading this right now!) I hope she knows I have a huge crush on her- both as a friend and as a potential lover… (I know my Master sure enjoyed watching us flirt and kiss all evening!)

Master used his 7-wheel Wartenberg wheel on me (and her!) again, and actually used it so much on my breasts that I had little red dots all over them the next day. But, as the title implies, he used the single-tail on my ass and thighs quite a bit. I have such a love/hate relationship with that thing: I love the marks it leaves (and they last for quite a long time- sometimes as long as two weeks) but the pain can sometimes bring me to the edge. This time it didn’t, but there were some tears as there always are with me whenever I go into sub-space.

I was kneeling in the corner of a booth-area, my dress up around my waist, my thonged and stocking-ed ass available for him to work with. As the beating went on, if there was a hit that was particularly painful (especially if it gets close to my inner thighs), I would have to sit back for a moment before kneeling back up again. (Luckily, my Master knows me well enough to know that this is my way of saying, “Give me just a minute” and he allows me those little breaks so I can continue.) 

His after-care is always so perfect. I quickly controlled my crying, and he held me for a while, stroking me and telling me sweet nothings that I love to hear (“Good girl”, “You did so well”, “My baby!!”). I love playing with him so much.

There were a lot of newbies out at Suspension this past weekend. Maybe it was because of that or maybe it was because Master and I haven’t been out to a Tribe event in a while, but I was surprised by how much attention I was getting— not only by our friends (who made plenty of comments about my tits— I was wearing a mini-dress with a corset over it, but could pull the top of the dress down to expose my breasts, though my nipples were taped as is a rule for these parties). 

The best attention I got from a stranger was when this cutest little gay slave (all decked out in leather straps!) came up to me and said, “I just want to tell you how fabulous you are! I’ve been watching you all evening and I keep saying, ‘I just want to kiss her right between those red x’s!’” (The tape I had on my nipples was red.) He asked if he could kiss me there, and (once I got Master’s approval) proceeded to plant many wet kisses right between my boobs and even landed a few nibbles! I have to say, it was the most flattering thing that’s happened to me in a while. It’s one thing to have a straight man or a woman with any sexual orientation compliment my looks, but I’ve never had a gay man ask to kiss my boobs. I still smile thinking about it. I hope I meet with him again! <3 

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BDSM The Naked Truth…

Last night, Master and I trekked all the way to Astoria (which is in Queens, for those of you non-New Yorkers) from Brooklyn to attend a class presented by the Iron Bell Academy. It actually wasn’t so much a class but a sort of lecture from Dr. Charley Ferrer, who is a world renowned Clinical Sexologist and author of many books (such as “BDSM The Naked Truth”).

The talk was mostly about reaffirming what Master and I already knew: that if you’re into BDSM you are not crazy or “sick”, how to safely go about playing with others (and knowing who to avoid- especially those who are mentally unstable), the importance of finding a BDSM-friendly psychologist, and how even vanilla folk use BDSM without even knowing it (a wedding ring is essentially a collar). 

Master and I have been out and about in the scene for a year now, so most of what Dr. Ferrer was talking about, we already knew. However, there were a few “newbies” that attended last night, and I’m sure they learned a lot. It’s a very important topic to think about, regardless. If you’re into BDSM, you are not crazy or sick and you do not need to be “fixed.” As long as the BDSM you practice is Safe, Sane, Consensual, and Informed, and is Risk Aware Consensual Kink, have fun and accept your kinky self!

Dr. Ferrer’s website: http://www.instituteofpleasure.org

The Iron Bell Academy’s website: http://www.ironbellacademy.com

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My Master Does Not Punish Me- In Fact, He’s the Opposite of Cruel

Master can (and has) beaten the shit out of me. He has marked me for weeks, whipped me until I’m a crying pulp at his feet, and choked me until I nearly pass out (among other things).

But he doesn’t punish me. He will never punish me, because he knows that there is nothing worse for me than disappointing him. For example:

I made dinner tonight (as I do probably 3 or 4 times a week). Since I didn’t have much else to do today, I decided to try out a new recipe. I’m always nervous when I try new recipes because the perfectionist in me always wants them to turn out, well, perfect. And I do pride myself in following directions to a T.

So when I fucked up this new recipe, the tears immediately came. (I’m not talking bawling, but just about 10 seconds of my face scrunched and red and a few fat tears rolling down my cheeks.) It’s such a blow to my pride when I fuck up something so simple as following directions, and whenever I cook I want to please Master so badly.

But this is why I am so utterly devoted to him: he saw I was getting upset, he took me in his arms, calmed me down, offered to help, and said how cute it was that I got upset over something as simple as dinner.

Dinner turned out really well, by the way. I fixed the recipe I fucked up and now I can’t imagine having it any other way. If Master had punished me once he saw I made a mistake, I would have been a complete mess the rest of the evening. 

Master uses pain as a reward. Never as a punishment. 

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