Things I forgot…

I forgot how much i love this song:

In case you can’t see it, or it won’t play, it’s Bob Marley doing Three Little Birds.  “Don’t worry, ’bout a thing, cause every little thing, gonna be alright…”

I forgot how much more fun it is to do dishes and other mundane chores when listening to reggae.  And –

I forgot how much better i sleep if i give myself a little orgasm before I go to sleep.  I mean, I have my Magic Wand next to my bed for a reason.  But too often, even when i’ve kind of revved myself up a bit before I lie down, i still fall asleep about as quick as my head hits the pillow.  Y’all, even using the wand begins to feel like a chore.  Silly, because –

I forgot how damn easy it is to have an orgasm.  I mean, a quick fantasy –

“But it is time,” he says.  Firmly.  Gently, but firmly.  “Go ahead and pull up your skirt and pull down your panties.”

i don’t want to do this, i don’t.  And yet the thought of doing it makes me shiver with anticipation, and i know that if i touched myself, i would be wet.  So i do it, i pull my skirt up so my ass is exposed and tuck it into the waistband before he even tells me to.

i hook my thumbs in my panties and pull them down to my knees, widening my stance so the panties stop there.  He doesn’t need to tell me to do that, i know what he wants me to do.

i’m facing the corner already, i can feel him behind me.  “Step back,” he says, “two small steps back.”

i step cautiously, not sure if i’m going to bump into him, but he steps back too.  “Now,” he says, “both hands against the wall.   That’s it.  No, bend your arms, I want you leaning forward.  Push your ass out more.  That’s it.  Offer me your ass.”

It’s just a bit awkward, and definitely humiliating.

“Get comfortable,” he says, which makes me roll my eyes.  “Once we get started, I’ll want you to hold your position.  I don’t want you wiggling around.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and i do shift my weight some to make sure i’ll be able to maintain the stance.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes, Sir,” i say, making sure my tone is pleasant and cooperative.  i don’t like the consequences when i forget to do that.

“We’ll start with the ruler,” he says and there is no time for breath before it lands, hitting both cheeks hard.   The second  blow is lower, the third lands above the first one.  i’m gasping already, the stinging burn driving away all thought, filling my world.


In the meantime, the lovely wand pressed to just the right spots, one hand on a nipple, and that’s all I need – that scenario – and Whoosh!!   A lovely little orgasm that leaves me more relaxed than i’ve been in days.

Thank you, universe.  I’ll try not to forget!





FFF – 3-16-18

5 pounds.  I’ve lost 5 pounds since the week of February 10th.  I just looked back at my planner, and there it was.  I weighed 5 pounds more that week.


If I lost a pound a week for the next – oh, let’s say the next 26 weeks – I would be at a comfortable weight.  But even if I don’t lose any more weight, I’m 5 pounds lighter than I was.

I’ve done a little bit better on movement this week – walked more, made sure I took more breaks from sitting at my computer.

Other than that, it’s pretty much the same ole-same ole around her.  (Ok, that phrase, particularly in writing, makes me giggle.  Is it Southern or do Northerners say it too?)  We were supposed to close on our house today, but that’s not happening, for reasons that are incomprehensible to me.  It’s through no fault of ours – our stuff is all together.  And seriously,  the reason they give doesn’t make a bit of sense.  (I almost said “a lick of sense” but that was a bit too “country” even for me.)

Anyhow, it’s not the first time in this process that things have not made sense.  I woke up at what seems to be my usual 3 a.m. wondering if maybe it’s the wrong house after all and we should just walk away from it.  We could do that right now, and just keep looking.  It has some problems.  Sigh…  but the location is really good.  And even though it’s turned out to need some work, we’re getting it for significantly less than it appraised for.  And…

Ok, I can torture myself with that back-and-forth debate for a long time.  Enough already.  This is, after all, supposed to be a blog about BDSM.  Or kink.  Or something like that.  Not a bunch of boring, banal bullshit.

Five pounds.  Five pounds down, 25 to go…

Guilty Pleasures

I was talking about one of my guilty pleasure in the comments (which happens to be reading Nora Roberts novels.)  And it made me wonder – what do other people consider their guilty pleasures?  Not something really bad, just something that you kind of keep private because you think people might judge you if they knew about it.

Like – I can eat half a bag of Doritos and half a container of French Onion Dip (a particular brand) at one sitting.   Ok,  maybe I can’t do that any more – but it was fun when I could and occasionally did.  It was a huge bonus if I was reading a new Nora Roberts while I dipped my Doritos and avoided touching anything with my orange fingertips.

So what’s yours?  Tell me in the comments or write a post and link back – enquiring minds want to know…guilty-pleasure-reads-2


Bonus Question – from Jz

Thanks to Jz, I have this fascinating question, which i’ve spent an inordinate amount of time pondering.

You have won a special magical vacation:
For one year, you will live the life of any character in fiction that you choose.
Who do you pick?

My first thought was, aha! I can be any BDSM character I like!! Story of O! I can be ~~~ oh. Wait. Hmmmm, maybe not Story of O. A bit too extreme. Nope, gonna pass on the whole branding thing.

Ok then, someone else kinky. But who? The 12 and a Half Weeks woman wouldn’t be bad, but that doesn’t end so well. And I have no idea what she was doing outside of that little time frame. No.

Then I went to childhood books. Heidi? Too much mountain climbing. Little Women? Which one would I be? Jo was the only one I think I could pull off, but I’d have to hurt Amy when she burned my notebooks. No, not Jo. Mary Poppins? No, no, no. Anne of Green Gales? Noooo, I’m not that good. Pollyanna! Oh, maybe Pollyanna – but no, wait. Not. She ends up pretty miserable for a while there. No.

I rejected a lot more possibilities, but finally conceded, ok, not a child’s book. Then what? The classics. Madame Bovary.   Good grief, no.  Nobody from War and Peace or any of those kinds of books.  Ok, maybe some character in The Masters of the Castle series. Hmmmm. That wouldn’t be half bad. But I can’t really remember much about them as people. So no.

OH! Someone from the Lily Yu books!! Lily herself? Cynna? Oh, that’s tempting. Which one? I think Cynna. But not the year her baby gets stolen and they have to go through hell and… can I pick which year? I didn’t think so.

Darn you, Jz! {Shakes fist in the air…} Why did you give me such a hard question???

Oh – ok – yes. I got it. Nora Roberts book – three books. The Garden Trilogy. I want to be Roz. Yep. An independent, interesting woman with a romantic interest. Or – no – I should be one of her characters that has some kind of magical gift! That would be good. But I can’t actually name one, they all run together in my head.  Actually, I had to go look Roz up, I didn’t really remember her either.

So that doesn’t really work you know. I don’t really think I want to be any book character – once I settle on one, I know it’s the wrong one.  And what if I picked the wrong one and then it really happened?  That would be really bad.

Can I pass my gift back to you, Jz? Who the heck would you be? Or any of you – who would you be???


A Story of Being Called to Oneself

Today, i’m feeling overwhelmed and worried.  I feel like the foundation i’ve been standing on has turned into sand and i’m slipping around in it.   i’m working on trusting myself to reach out to others for help where i need it and to resolve the new problems that have come up as best i can.

i’ve posted this story before, maybe not in quite this form.  When i read it, i usually think about how different our culture would be if we had this approach to people who do wrong.  i was particularly thinking about that lately when i read about a renowned trauma expert who was apparently also a bully to his staff.  It seems like the original wrong-doing has been compounded by his denial and unwillingness to recognize the problem and to change.

It makes me think about our shadow selves and how if we don’t recognize and own that aspect of ourselves, it acts out in the world in harmful ways.  i was reading about the allegations against this man and wondering where my own faults lie.  Am i doing things now that could someday lead to me being publicly called out, chastised, discredited?   Maybe.  More importantly, would i be able to hear feedback that would let me correct my course now?  i hope so.

Today, when i read this story, i’m about to share, i hear it as an opportunity to be called to myself.  Feeling uncertain, feeling ashamed of maybe making the wrong decision, i can smudge with sage and connect with the Six Directions.

I can call on the East, spirit of new beginnings; the South, spirit of warmth and love; the West, spirit of the setting sun and autumn’s harvest; the North, spirit of quiet, stillness, and deep earth.  I call on Mother Earth, source of support and bounty and Father Sky, source of light and understanding.  I ask them all to be with me.  I ask for blessings and wisdom and invite them to join the spirit of my soul within, a place of union, love and reverence.

This story reminds me that we each have our own song, even if we don’t know it, and move in our rhythm.  We are each called to be the best of who we are.  And we are still loved even when our flaws threaten to overwhelm us.

Of all the African tribes still alive today, the Himba tribe is one of the few that counts the birth date of the children not from the day they are born nor conceived but the day the mother decides to have the child.


When a Himba woman decides to have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child who wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches him the song. When they make love to physically conceive the child, they sing the song of the child as a way of inviting the child.

When she becomes pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people gather around him/her and sing the child’s song to welcome him/her. As the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or gets hurt, someone picks him/her up and sings to him/her his/her song. Or maybe when the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.

In the Himba tribe there is one other occasion when the “child song” is sang to the Himba tribesperson. If a Himba tribesman or tribeswoman commits a crime or something that is against the Himba social norms, the villagers call him or her into the center of the village and the community forms a circle around him/her. Then they sing his/her birth song to him/her.

The Himba views correction not as a punishment, but as love and remembrance of identity. For when you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.

In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when the Himba tribesman/tribeswoman is lying in his/her bed, ready to die, all the villagers that know his or her song come and sing – for the last time that person’s song.

Today, i forgive myself for being less than perfect.  Today, i send you love and joy – from my spirit to yours…


Some Other Questions

Actually, I’m kind of cheating here – there were a couple of comments on my last post that included questions, and I answered them in the comments, but now I’m thinking it might be a blog post all by itself.  First, I wanted to share this:


And then – Amy had asked a question about spankings which led me to talk about subspace, and she wanted to know how Eric could learn to get her into subspace without a lot of pain.  Then Willie reminded me that subspace also brings the risk of subdrop, which is not so much fun.  To see their comments in full, go here.

And let me be clear – I am not some big expert on these things.  I’m speaking from my own experience, mostly, so other people might have had different experiences or disagree with me, and that’s ok.

But, in response to Amy, I said:

“Lol, I love your enthusiasm, Amy – but go read Willie’s comment first, because she’s also right, subdrop can be a thing (although if you and your husband know it might be coming, it’s easeir to deal with.) Anyhow, if you’re serious, here are some thoughts.

There are events where they have classes on how to do – stuff. I imagine you already know that. Often there’s a play party afterwards, but you wouldn’t have to go that, and if you did go, you could just watch (in a casual way) and just sort of see what it feels like. I love play parties for all kinds of reasons and even if you don’t do a thing while you’re there, you will probably be pretty ramped up afterwards. It’s like the most serious foreplay. I was at an event that had a class in spanking that I went to just for the fun of it and it was pretty fascinating. This might sound funny, but it made it clear to me why my first spankings were not what I’d had in mind.

There are also books about things like that. I can recommend some good books, but not necessarily one on teaching how to spank (not my forte, you know…) But I’m sure you already know that.

Beyond that, I think it’s experience and maybe experimentation. I’m pretty sure, in retrospect, that what happened that night was that my Dom started with a really slow warm-up, which allowed my endorphins time to kick in. As he increased the intensity, he did it in a slow and steady way ( which is why he told me to signal him if it hurt more than I expected, right?) So I got used to it. And the opiods in my system came out and were all floating around and – beyond that, I don’t know what happened. I dont’ really understand what subspace is, other than this lovely thing that happens. But I think it was the warm-up and then the slow, steady pace that did it.

I’ve experienced supspace through the use of rope too, which can be a really sensual and intense experience, so you might see if Eric is at all interested in Shibari. And I’ve experienced it through painful spankings but I’m not a big pain slut either so maybe it doesn’t take that much. I would speculate that you can’t get there as well through punishment spankings, but it’s pure speculation. I know you and Eric have been at this a few years (yay for you!!) and so you may have done this a bunch of times. But has he tried spanking you with different implements, not to see which is the worst, but to see which you like the best?

Ok, I’ve written a blog post here, and you probably already know lots of it. But good luck playing with it! Also, if you’re in the southeastern US, email me if you want recommendations for events. ❤”

Then Lindsey asked me if the same Dom had given me that experience again.  I said:

Yes, he did, although the other times I most remember were with rope and not spanking. He was really an expert in Shibari and I can still remember the feel of the rope on my skin as he created a “dress” or other patterns. I was looking for an article just a minute ago to describe what they call it when they work from the waist down – harness? I don’t think that’s right… But anyhow, I found this article that talks specifically about the mesmerizing effect of rope. I love that it says:

“In addition to creating beautiful patterns, with rope, body and limb placements, Shibari rigging induces physiological conditions known as “sub space” and “top space”, which are similar to the “runners high” experienced by athletes. A Shibari experience results in an increased level of endorphins and other hormones, creating a trance-like experience for the bottom/model and an adrenaline rush for the Top/rigger. When a Shibari scene is performed with appropriate ambience, these effects are actually visible in the face of the model. The term “rope drunk” is sometimes affectionately used to describe the euphoric condition of the model after a Shibari experience.”

Anyhow. We did some suspension bondage too, which was amazing, and – well, thanks for asking. Those are some lovely memories to unfold. ❤

And I was thinking – not for the first time, but in that “here we go round the spiral” way – that between leaving my church and not practicing BDSM, I don’t have anywhere to hang my spirituality – nowhere to call my spiritual home.  I’m still spiritual, but I don’t feel like I really have a community.  Now there’s a goal…

*If you can’t see the meme, there’s a steaming cup of coffee, with a deep purple flower across the saucer.   It says:

A riding crop and a blindfold doesn’t make it

BDSM.  There is a big difference between being

kinky and being in the scene.  It’s not a sexual thing

to me, it’s a very spiritual thing.

~ DominaBlue

The Spanking Question – from Amy

Thanks, Amy!  Love this question.

What was the first spanking you ever received as an adult and would you say it was playful? Sexual? A punishment?  Oh, sadly, the first spankings I received as an adult were the result of sharing my secret liking for spankings with some very vanilla guy I was dating, who then tried to spank me because he figured I’d like it and it would turn me on.  It did turn me on, but being spanked by someone who doesn’t really like doing it and who doesn’t know what he’s doing at all is not as much fun as those of us who crave spankings might dream of.

On the other hand, my first actual spanking by someone who considered himself a Dom for real, and who liked to spank women, was a lovely experience.  I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.  And the best spanking I ever had – well, really, it was “impact play” was from a Dom at a dungeon.  We had been dating and he was really experienced so he’d already spanked me and tied me up and done all kinds of things.

He attached me to a St. Andrews cross.  Just my wrists, he left my ankles unfettered.  He told me if what he did “hurt more than I expected it to” that I should raise one leg off the ground, to let him know, because in the dungeon he wouldn’t be able to hear my safe word.


He started with a flogger, I remember that, but i couldn’t tell you what else he used on me, just that i slipped into subspace without ever feeling real pain and just soared for a while.  The entire room disappeared.

All i was aware of was this amazing sensation of being in my body completely and totally present to the moment, but just focused on me.  Nothing else existed other than the feelings i was having.  When I came back to earth, he was untying me, and my ass was red and welted, but i had still not felt any real pain.

When i said that to him, “but it never even hurt, Sir,” in tones of amazement, he said, “Of course not, it wasn’t supposed to,” adding  “Come on, carry this blanket over here and I’ll wrap you up,” or something like that.   He left me just trembling with submissive longings…

Sigh.  It was lovely.

Thanks for the question!!