Tuesday, October 6, 2009
On ____________ Sheet, ____ Inventory, and __________Report must match before you start keying for the next week. This mean you need to set down with the _____ people before you start your current week. Your _____Inventory must match your ____ Inventory Sheet and ___ Report, I will like to see this report before any site start keying for the next week. So you can call or email me when you are finishing with your reports. Please put paperwork in daily, as I go thru the report I am seeing mistake, so please organize your day, so you can have time to input CFA. Thank for what all you'll do. Your work is very appreciated.
I received the above e-mail this morning. Before this woman commenced to make my day a living hell. I'm a bit blessed, for now she's not there every day. She only comes in on Tuesdays anymore (and the last hour before I leave on Monday, which is also it's own form of hell).
I had the same reaction: Wowwwwwwww.
Followed by: How the HELL is this the woman I answer to?!?!?!
So anyways... I had it out with this woman today. It's frustrating enough that I'm teaching her how to use her own program and that I'm formulating reports she's taking credit for but then today, today she threw down.
Her: "Why you doing it like this?"
Me: "Because that's how I was told to do it."
Her, incredulously: "Who told you to do it that way????"
I asked many times when she told me, ARE YOU SURE you want it this way, because it doesn't make sense for this and that reason... There were witnesses. Some even stepped forward today. I'm sorry, she was wrong and I put that in her face when she tried to dump it in my lap. So we'll see what the outcome of that will be in the future.
Honestly, I SO would rather deal with the mob.
Sorry this doesn't have fetish, porn, sex, or anything of that nature in it. I'm boring.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
With no 'real' job and not knowing where and when my next gig will happen, money is an issue. I mean, I have enough to pay my rent every month and take care of *most* of the other expenses, but that's all been dumb luck for the most part. I land a random gig about once a month, and have been blessed to work with Kink.com at least once a month as well. However, not *knowing* if I'll have a paying gig in the future is disconcerting to say the least.
So when an opportunity to make the equivalent of 3.5 months' rent and/or pay half of my debt down comes along, it looks pretty enticing. I was ignorant about the site's content, partly because of my lack of computer access and partly by choice-- mostly since everyone I told from seasoned porn stars and directors to the average person who had patronized that site in the past had the same aghast reaction.
I had agreed to do the site right before TESfest (which is what I really wanted to write about today, but my head is still swimming with this moralistic crap), so the entire time at TESfest I tried to ignore the feeling in the pit of my stomach. Except when I saw the reactions of my friends and cohorts...
And then when I returned from TESfest and hit the site and watched clip after clip and saw the description 'neath the shoot, I realized that this site entailed performing every kinky activity that I abhor. I would be making great, amazing money--- and I'd hate every minute of it. (It'd be like working at Starbucks... which is why I entered the porn industry in the first place).
And then the words "economic manipulation" from Matt Smith's ridiculously sensational article echoed in my head. As much as I rationalized doing the site by saying things like "I want to at least try everything once", I knew deep down that I would only be doing it because of my financial desperation, thereby giving weight to this douchebag's words. I realized I didn't want to make him right. I didn't want to be exploited.
My work for Kink.com is the direct opposite. I've had a blast with the work I've done with Lochai and Hogtied.com and EverythingButt.com. Yes, I've broken a few cherries with Lochai, tried new things... but I've had fun with all of it and wasn't motivated by the money. The same will be true when I work with Mark Davis at SexandSubmission.com. I love kinky sex and have honestly been getting off to Mark Davis for years now. This will be a blast. I will enjoy every minute and be able to feel good about myself after the day is over. This would not be the case with the other site.
So I backed out. And the people who run the other site have been amazing about it. And I feel better about myself for having the self-esteem and tenacity to take a stand and dealing with these morals; whereever the fuck they came from.
Friday, June 26, 2009
It wasn’t too long before I was in make-up and wardrobe the next day. I was nervous, understandably so. (I’m no porn star yet, and until I break all of my cherries and get a few notches on my belt, I am going to be nervous.) Then, I headed down to set in my prim little skirt and blazer for Lochai to have at me.
The scenes were hot. Unfortunately, the brand new spanking machine he was going to introduce my butt too wasn’t working properly. This was deliberated after about 45 mins of “testing” which had chained over a desk while the machine had a mind of it’s own, each random whack to my ass scaring the crap out of me. So we couldn’t use it.
The scene was SUPER hot though. They all were. He had my wrists chained to my ankles. I never knew how much I liked chains prior to this shoot… their sound and weight make them a delight for this bondage whore, in a very different way than rope.
Do not fear-- just because the spanking machine broke does not mean I didn’t get my licks. Lochai made sure of that. Lots of caning and paddling to fill the sadistic pleasure of the viewers, and fufill my own masochistic desires. One scene had me counting down strokes in between the different sized butt plugs he wielded as he stretched my tiny asshole. And I had bruises to last me days, so that every time I sat down during the rest of my stay in California, I grinned remembering the details of my shoot vividly.
I also got my rope fix, thank goodness, in the aforementioned scene. Though it wasn’t a full suspension, it was still quite taxing as I had to hold the position and the buttplug whilst he continued to paddle my VERY sore behind.
Thanks again to Lochai and the crew at Kink.com for having me out again. Again, you won’t see the last of me. I’m booked for Sex and Submission at the end of July with Mark Davis. Nervous as hell but looking forward to it!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
This was my response:
A very good question.
The short answer is yes.
I would probably not have the Daddy/LG attraction as much as I do. I wouldn't have missed out on that relationship, causing a void in my past that I now try to exorcise through ageplay and with my penchant for Daddy Doms, rather than simply sadistic tops or dominants.
I was, however, born a spanko. I got turned on from watching spanking scenes in cartoons as far back as my toddler years. I would read and reread passages from stories where the main character, a child my age, would receive some sort of corporal punishment as a consequence of foolish actions. Of course I didn't know what it was at the time-- it just felt like my tummy feels when I went on a roller coaster. But I liked it.Same thing when someone was whipped. I'm preconditioned to get wet from this stuff.
Gay men and women were considered psychologically unsound 10 years ago for their sexual proclivities. People thought that some event in their past caused them to suddenly shift their sexual preference. Now we know it is mostly biological. Same with me. And hopefully that idea too can begin to be accepted... The idea that I simply can't help myself. I am what I am, I was born that way.
I would've found this lifestyle no matter if my father passed on or not. I would've came in a spanko and still would've evolved as I experienced new things-- such as rope. Ten would still be Ten.
I'd like to hear some comments from the peanut gallery. Is your kink biological or psychological and why?
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
I had a very different life then—collar and ownership and all. I literally belonged to someone else. So yes, it was true, those who said it was a phase.
The man who owned me named me. Slave 10. The number. Not just because that was all I was. But because I was his perfect 10.
We’re different people now. But I’m still Ten. I’m not a number, and not just someone’s Perfect 10. The word is now personified into the person you see before you today. The person who came to Playa del Fuego and left a changed woman. Who took the collar off, but still remains active in the BDSM community. Because that’s who I am now.
You ask about BDSM? As a “community”? Those who aren’t a part of it will never know how strong we really are. A BDSM “community”—it’s a hard concept for those who think it’s all about beating the snot out of people for sexual gratification. But I assure you, I’ve never felt more a part of something, more supported, and more self-aware before I found my kinky chosen family.
I never fit in anywhere. I never belonged. High school, college, even with those of similar age in the workplace… I was always different. I mean, I got along well enough, I had my fun. But never fit in. Never got let in.
Now. I know what community is. My first chosen “home” where I could be me (Ten) was Dressing for Pleasure’s The Crawlspace. Master Ed and Karen took us in and accepted us as family that very first night. I learned so much there, about different fetishes and people and statuses--- and about uniting under one flag.
It was there that I met Firefly who would take me to my first “big event”: Black Phoenix’s Winter Solstice. It was a sleep-away event where I stayed in a hotel and attended classes during the day. I met soooo many people. And it became apparent that people accepted me, as Ten. The person who I had to hide from others. That I wasn’t strange, crazy, or a burden.
Since then, Ten has attended many events. And Ten has spilled over to daily life. I introduce myself as Ten to most anyone new I meet. I am called “Ten” by both of my roommates, the kinkster and the ‘nilla both. Few people know me by my old name anymore. Those I still talk to from my old life (not the ones that simply keep tabs through Myspace and Facebook status updates), know about my lifestyle… and while they may not want to know details, they accept me as Ten as well, even if they call me by my given name.
Which is why I don’t hesitate anymore in declaring that name dead. While I’m not legally changing my name, please note, that if anyone ever asks if “Ten” is my real name, I will now say, "Yes" emphatically.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
My first night there was ALMOST enough fun to have me leave happy without even doing my shoot. I hung out with the boys from Naked Kombat and we set about exploring the Armory and scaring the crap out of ourselves. They made me feel welcome and I was happy they were keeping the same hours of me. I couldn't sleep for the life of me!
I slept with the black cat cuz I was scared... Ghosts are a thing for me. I'm terrified of the prospect of seeing one. So at least I had a bed partner. I got a surprise at 3 am when I finally tried to lay down and sleep, and a really hot chick and her rather butch 'friend' went into the room next to me and had reallllly loud sex. While I can appreciate hot lesbian fun and the smacking noises as someone was getting their ass whacked, I needed sleep. Man, y'all are kinky... couldn't you gag her or somethin? I don't even know what time I ended up falling asleep.
I got up at 9, too excited to sleep in. Knowing Lochai's affinity for everything anal, I let it slip that although I do love getting things rammed in my ass, this dirty girl has never cleaned herself out prior to. Jumping on this opportunity, Lochai decided he was gonna tie me up and administer the enema. My first enema was caught on camera for the new Everything Butt site (which I've just been booked for in June, so Kink.com hasn't seen the last of me!)
I'm no stranger to BDSM, but Lochai took a lot of my cherries that day. First my enema, then he used the deliciously tortuous clover clamps on my tiny little nipples which was new for me, and one scene took my anal hook virginity (and boy, did he thoroughly take it!)
I wish I could recount everything, but much of it is a blur, seeing as though there is one scene which just has me continuously orgasming so violently that it looks like I'm having a seizure
And let's not talk about what happened afterwords. Let's just say I had a few more orgasms and got to make a pretty kitty purrrrrrr.
Lordy I hope they bring me on other Kink.com sites. I'm about ready to move to San Francisco. What an experience!
Friday, March 13, 2009
Who has two thumbs and got three consecutive scenes with David Lawrence?
That's right! This girl!
This occurred last weekend at Black Phoenix. The evening began with Master_Tombstone and I meeting with David for dinner at Applebee's. It was a really fun and interesting dinner as David introduced the poor bartender to his "line of work"... and also introduced
Then we made our way to Black Phoenix. David stopped me and told me I had one job—to carry in the bamboo that would make it’s way into my bondage scene. I did so, obediently and dutifully. After all I *am* known for my obedience.
The beginning of the night had me in the dressing room with Vanessa where we drank champagne and made her VERY, very sparkly. She was prepping for her collaring ceremony between her and Markart. The end result was this beautiful woman virtually became an angel. She is already gorgeous but between the semi-virginal (it was practically see thru) white dress and the glitter overload—Vanessa looked positively radiant.
The ceremony was gorgeous, the candlelight that surrounded them highlighted her seraphic features. She was stripped naked and crawled with the collar in her mouth to Mark. They then exchanged vows. Even I started to feel happy tears coming. You can read more personal accounts of this beautiful ceremony on Vanessa’s blog.
After the champagne was popped open and the Mark and Vanessa were duly toasted it was time to get down to business. David pulled me to the small little bamboo pyramid and he commenced to tie me first face down. I wish I could remember the specifics of his ties, perhaps he can comment later on the logistics, but all I know is that I floated from the second the plain hemp touched my skin. And once I became suspended- I no longer floated but FLEW.
The second suspension was on the same rig. This time he did a semi-inverted backwards… thing… that had me in an almost diagonal position, head towards the ground, and upside down. All four of my limbs were tied to each of the bamboo poles. This gave he and
The third suspension was a completely inverted suspension and was on one of the higher rigs… and was a one-legged no less! As if that wasn’t enough, he had secured the suspended leg to one of the notorious bamboo poles. I, unfortunately, couldn’t hold this position long enough for them to drive me as crazy as they did in the other positions. In fact, at one point while disentangling me, David produced some sort of cutting instrument and commenced slicing the rope, to my astonishment. I’ve been around a lot of rope guys, you see, and their rope is their *baby*. So to see him casually cutting his rope (he cut a BUNCH off) was surprising to say the least. I must’ve said something or made some audible noise, because he looked at me and said “The rope is my medium, but you, you’re my art” or something to that effect. At that point I was simply in a daze, but that sentiment gave me all kinds of warm and fuzzies.
Three restrictive bondage scenes, pain via spanking and single tails, and enough vibrator action to give me significant practice for Hogtied.com, left me bone dry, exhausted, hoarse from screaming—and extremely content. I even experienced some heavy drop the next day. But I’m still carrying around the pieces of rope he cut in my purse. Creepy? Maybe… or maybe I’m too lazy to take them out. But it sure does help with the drop….
Cherries popped by David Lawrence with the assistance of Master Tombstone:
-First ever fully naked public scene
-First ever one-legged suspension
Needless to say, it was a helluva night!
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Blog to come...
But just wanted to make a quick note about his new book reBound. The entire book is available online so be sure to check it out. And I highly suggest you purchase a copy NOW at the discounted price. It makes a great addition to your coffee table book collection!
Friday, March 6, 2009
OK, I can make this vewwwwy easy on you. Skip to the bottom, to the "Quick and Easy Version" if ya just wanna read some fortune cookie type advice.
Otherwise... have fun readin' wha' goes on in mai head!*
I thought the day was going pretty shitty. Things had been kinda-- less colorful-- since Monday and my experience with my ex (aka the General Manager of the NJ branch of ****ers Inc.-- the company I work for) which led to my resignation. I mean, having to go in for these last 2 weeks (ok, actually twelve days as I don't work Sundays)... it's killing me. It's been two days and I'm getting more and more depressed. I love my fucking job. I mean, I maintain the structural and financial center of an entire company, I work with truckers all day, I can wear pajamas to work, and I can fuck around on Fet all day without fear of reproach. This is a gig to kill for. And yet, one person, who happens to be my boss, who I happened to be VERY in love with at one point, sullied it so much that I need to leave because I feel as though I am mentally and physically in danger.
Today sucks worse than Monday... I have to get all of my stuff out of the warehouse, where I'd been storing it since, what, July? I mean, me and P had been going around these last two days faking it until we made it. As if I wasn't leaving. It seems like it's the way everyone feels like dealing with my exodus...
"Naw girl, don' tell me dat. Naw, you playin'. Stop playin." I get a huge hug as the man wrestles with emotions ranging from anger, anxiety, and sadness
Ohhhh Alv--. Alv-- the skinny African American from North Carolina who repeats the same thing over and over, who got real excited over the "crystal clear" picture of a T.V. a customer had given him (I mean REAL excited), and who thinks won-ton soup is some kind of strange, foreign delicacy. He's so special. But he's the only one who showed emotion when I said I was leaving. who was the only one out of all the members of ****vers Inc. to willingly enter the Delancey Street Foundation where all of the workers of this company met.
Oh yeah, I probably forgot to mention that, not only do I work with truck drivers all day, but I work with reformed (reformed with the exception of my ex) drug addicts and ex-cons. The stories you hear, the things you learn when you work in an environment like that... well it should probably be considered a part of your benefits package
OK BACK TO THE POINT
So moving out kinda sucke. It was another blow of reality that I really wanted to ignore. Thank goodness I had the help of Christian Davids and ElisabethDavids (who will always be "Ismene" in my heart). They kept me in good spirits and that they drove 2 hours to help me means the world to me. These kind of friends are VERY few and far between.
I took them and Master_Tombstone out to dinner and we were shootin' the shit and then I got kind of bothered. My mom had called me earlier and said something about a house fire but that everyone was ok and she'd call me later. It didn't really sound all that bad, something like a cooking accident that destroyed a cabinet or something. But at dinner with these fond friends, something hit me, in the gut. A feeling. An "ohmigod". I suddenly felt the need to get in touch with someone, anyone who could explain to me what the fuck happened.
I called my mom, my granddmother, my stepfather, my brother, and my sister. None picked up. They complain that I distanced myself from the family-- argh. Finally get my brother. While I thought his voice was the least likely I'd hear, it was a pleasant surprise to talk to him. Still, he's also the most likely to know nothing beyond the pot smoke within his college dorm room.
Then my mom called back. Actually my stepfather did, from her phone. I used to hate the man. 8 years ago, before they got sober, him and my mother, he used to terrorize the household with empty-- and full for the matter-- threats of bodily harm and anguish. But tonight, I was never more relieved to hear his voice.
He started to tell me what had happened but he was slurring a bit- while he'd given up the sauce, I know he was probably on his second dose of Percocet, whether or not his back really hurt. So I was really happy when he put my mom on the phone. I may think she's an ever-loving cunt and a "douche-cannon" (thanks Eric) but she's still my mom and at that point I was ready to start taking laps around the parking lot, I was so nervous.
I started going into shock when she recounted the events of the previous night. As an empath I could feel how it felt when C**, my 7 year old brother came in to tell her the TV stopped working and how terrified she was when she walked in to see gray smoke pouring out of the outlet. I felt what it was like to grab the kid- to scour the immediate surroundings for what you should be taking in case the place goes completely up in flames. I felt what it was like to have your husband of five years (although she has shitty taste, it is love after all, and love-- I understand-- see excerpt above about loving a toxic asshole) battling the blaze for 25 minutes while you impatiently wait for the FRIGGEN firemen to arrive to save the day. I felt the terror as the firemen went to leave and my fairly high husband asks if they checked the basement and as they open up the crawl space (no, NOT DFP's) and watch as smoke BILLOWS* out. The anguish as the hoses the inept firemen used only pushed the fire farther into the house and destroyed more of the precious irreplaceable stuff that one stores in the basement...
And what's the kicker of it all? My mom, the person who, in my angry adolescent angst years used to positively hate, the woman who beat several HEAVY addictions and continues to fight against rampant co-dependency (AKA wiping my douchebag stepfather's ass all the damn timer-- ok well he's not so much of a douchebag now either)... the woman who sold herself and her kids for drugs, who very nearly lost her identity as a human being... she said that we (meaning her, my stepfather and my little half [whole in my heart) brother] were blessed.
No one got hurt, not even Lucky, the dumbass chocolate lab. And within 24 hours, her connections within Alcoholic's Anonymous found them a "home". Not a hotel. 2 bedrooms, every amenity you could imagine. And the insurance company is paying for it. A home. Within 24 hours A place to stay until the damage was repaired. And this ex Meth head, who has no other faux "silver linings" was able to see the positive.
I tell ya. If ya met me a year ago you'd know I fucking HATED her. So to admit that I love this woman and that she taught me a lesson today is rough... I'm so happy for them and the energy they give me over the phone. Even if it took her other 3 grown kids from previous exploits and her making a new life with the ex-psycho, now somewhat reformed husband and the kid they made.
The only thing that is still making me feel these intense JABS-- yeah, they're fucking jabs... and they need to stop-- of depression is that she made me give her a bin I had taken mistakenly when I moved the fuck out. It had all of my dad's stuff in it and my old report cards, art from art shows I did (holy SHIT, I used to do art shows. And poetry contests. And speech and debate and fiction writing... wow I am a person. And not just someone who likes to be tied up... Sorry just need to remind myself sometimes because I really do love to be tied up) in it. She made me give it back. Luckily, I planned to do a scrapbook for my siblings (the one that share the same Daddy) and I had swiped a lot of his pictures, his wallet, his school term papers... and other random things. So something was working with me there.
But still. My past. A lot of it. Is gone. While it's not my dream home, like that house was to my mother... my past, the happy parts I like to hold onto... are gone.
shakes head vigorously
This blog was SUPPOSED to be about perspective. But yeah, if ya haven't figured it out yet, skip to the Quick 'n Easy Version at the bottom:
Quick 'n Easy Version My parent's house burned down. My past is missing. They don't have their dream house anymore but still feel blessed. So... yeah... how the fuck are you blessed?
Monday, February 23, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
Then we meandered to Graydancer’s Tie ‘Em Up and Fuck ‘Em class. With a title like that who wouldn’t want to attend. By then the sleep deprivation was again taking it’s toll, so much so that when Graydancer walked in, after knowing me all of 24 hours, made a comment about how tired I looked. But there was no way I was going to let it stop me from watching just how simple it was to utilize rope as a facilitator for…well…fucking. He even did a demonstration as to how much quicker it was to use rope instead of cuffs in restraining the “victim”.
After these classes were over, I ambled about, looking for a couch to pass out on for a bit to recharge for the nightly festivities. Everyone in our room had already checked out (I had to leave Sunday night, having to be at work at 9am Monday morning—and it was a 4 hour drive, blah), so I no longer had a home base. I ended up on a couch in the room that ended up turning into the Kiddie Day Care and Petting Zoo. Which is something I know nothing about… But seriously, the naughty nighttime exploits and such had made it difficult to indulge my inner little. While I was still exhausted and spent much of this activity with my head in MasterTombstone’s lap and watching the juvenile chaos around me, it did me good to play with the bubbles and play-dough that MinaMeow provided and to allow myself to regress a bit.
Soon my blood sugar got the best of me again. MasterTombstone and I were slotted to have our V-day dinner so we made our way to the restaurant and enjoyed some quiet time and yummy food. Then it was time to prepare for the dungeon to re-open. Inspired by my regression earlier, opted to go for the school-girl—something that was quite prevalent on Sunday. Did I miss the memo?
When I walked in, I caught MasterTombstone tying MinaMeow up in the big cage so I sat in front of it and watched for a while. And then I spied Graydancer tying up Naiia, and I think Mataleao was assisting? (Forgive me if details are more fuzzy than usual at this point, I was functioning off of about 7 hours of sleep in 3 days). Then in the corner I saw Lochai suspending calliopeo. After wandering around the main dungeon, my attention drawn between these three scenes, I decided to find a vantage point where I could see ALL of the scenes while being inconspicuous so as not to disturb any of them with my presence. So I sat on a table in the corner (where Lochai had been binding someone the night previous and next to the rack that would serve to suspend me).
I lost track of time, my ADD going wild as I immersed myself from scene to scene, when I noticed Lochai was untying his “victim”. The scene was over. As he gathered his ropes I caught his eye briefly.
“Hey you. Wanna get tied up?” he asked, his East Coast accent peaking through. This time I didn’t just think it.
“Hell yes!” I jumped right off that table, exhaustion pretty much forgotten for the moment. After a brief negotiation, the scene commenced. Again, nearly the second the rope touched my skin, I melted, the world around me fading away. It was only he and I as his handmade rope and his hands caressed my skin, securing me tighter and tighter with each wrap, each encirclement taking me one more step into a different plane. I remember how good I felt at the sound of approval he made when he discovered that my elbows could touch behind my back.
My legs started to shake, my muscles screaming from the heels I was wearing. On a normal day, I could handle those heels, but after wearing sexy 5-6inch heels every night, my legs decided that now was the time to protest. I tried not to let the pain distract me, tried to keep myself in the alternate reality I had entered, tried to focus on the delight and pleasure Lochai’s hands and his rope administered to my entire body. But the constant persistent objections of my tired legs made it difficult. By that time, he’d wrapped rope in my mouth around my head and I was grateful that the makeshift gag was containing my mewls of pain.
I can handle this, I told myself, I’m being tied up by a celebrity rigger. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t ‘hardcore’ or something. No sooner did I tell him this that he bent down and began to unbuckle my shoes. I was in a state of disbelief at his ability to read what I tried so hard to keep contained. Was he a mind-reader? After my feet were out of the implements of torture that I’d been wearing I sighed and gave him a resounding, “Thank you!”
“If you’re going to be in pain, I’m going to be the one to cause it,” he said matter-of-factly. My stomach flipped excitedly and I felt an erotic heat flood throughout my body at that simple statement. To illustrate his point he produced a pair of nipple clamps, each with its own chain, connected to a keychain-like “O” at the middle. I’d never ever experienced nipple clamps before so I was both aroused but nervous about what would come next. He removed the ropes from around my mouth and then stuck the “O” in my mouth so that the chains tugged maliciously at my nipples, making my vision flash white.
Then he went to work on me, driving me further over the edge, fondling, stroking, smacking, pinching, kissing… It’s all a blur. At some point the “O” had fallen from my mouth and he replaced it with his tongue which possessed me as his hands continued to tease and torment. His assault began to focus on my more naughty bits and as he stroke, fondled and slapped down there I felt the first climax building slowly, encompassing my entire body, filling me more an more until I felt it begin to spill over. I begged for release and Lochai assented, telling me that I should climax as needed.
His assault continued for… who knows how long. The number of orgasms I’d experienced were now well into the double digits. At one point—I don’t even remember how it happened now—I was on the ground and he fastened me in a strict position, elbows still touching behind my back, but my chest to my upper thighs, legs straight out, and me on my side. This position afforded him quite some access to continue with his “dastardly deeds”.
At one point I started to beg for mercy, I had orgasmed so many times I couldn’t catch my breath. The scene winded down and he began to untie me. I stood shakily and he caught me up in an embrace as I regained my sense of reality. We ended up back on the floor cuddling and talking. This time Kelley was no where in sight to snatch me up. I don’t know how long we talked but it had to have been at least an hour. We talked about his wife and family, his life, our views on bondage and submission… then he turned the conversation to Hogtied.com.
He basically said that if all of that was real, then I had a spot, if I so chose. I was completely taken aback. Really? Little ol’ me? On a big time site like that?? I told him I’d put some thought into it and then get back to him. But the offer itself was such a compliment. I’ve since made my decision. But that’s a story for another blog…
We left around 11:30-midnight and made our way back to Dirty Jersey. And I knew that after that whole experience, life would not be the same.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Dark Odyssey: Winter Fire 2009 Saturday- Valentine’s DayDark Odyssey: Winter Fire 2009 Saturday- Valentine’s Day
After pulling ourselves out of bed, I stumbled down and paid a ridiculous amount of money for the overpriced breakfast buffet. (What can I say, that blood sugar, it’s a BITCH). Then I made my way to my desired classes. I went to Rough Body Play by Phantom. For having what very little (what was it, 3 weeks?) experience in the scene, it was quite informative. The illustrations on the Powerpoint were extremely relevant… ‘cause ya know… kittens play rough, I tell ya! Plus I got to watch Phantom beat up super hot ladies—who could ask for more?
Then I attended Defining Moments by Graydancer. It was extremely refreshing to find a class that had to do with ideas and emotions and the otherwise intangible aspects, that could be applied not only of BDSM, but also mundania. Don’t get me wrong, I love learning about physical technique, although I’m usually just a practice bottom. But stimulating my body is one thing. My brain—well that’s where one can really fuck me good. So anyways, after the class ended, MasterTombstone went up to introduce himself to Graydancer. For some reason, my normal, very extroverted self morphed into some kind of reserved and shy, and I even might have stuttered a bit when I finally spoke. This occurrence was abnormal to say the least, but was also quite entertaining to me.
With no plans for Valentine’s Eve (dinnerish time) I was open to almost anything. I got the invite from Sir_Q take part in the shoot we’d been planning like… forever ago. I met him at Wicked Faire ‘08 when some random guy stopped me and asked me to model some [armor]( http://www.wickedvillage.org/photo/10-armor-man-4032-cropped?context=user) and he was the photographer. He also caught the beginning of Master Tombstone’s and I *gasp* FIRST public Suspension. Then, small world, I ran into him at Playa del Fuego which is the East Coast regional Burning Man. You can see the pics he took of that in my gallery…
However, I never really had any personal time with Q and his lovely partner Emily. So I definitely snagged this chance. Plus, he promised me fire. Those fire aura pictures you see on profiles like Sister Dee’s? Yeah, I got to do that. Pics are forthcoming so I’ll be able to post them soon I hope! But besides the fireplay, we ordered some room service and had some real intimate fun and what was once supposed to be dinner and pics turned into a 4 hour long play date! Not that I’m complaining. But it was 11 o’clock by the time I was able to compose myself and go downstairs and I knew I’d be seeing them the following weekend at Wicked Faire ‘09. More fun was sure to be had there, and I didn’t want to miss out on things unique to D.O.
Once downstairs back at the party, I found a group of my friends and was hanging out and talking with them. I happened to catch Graydancer out of the corner of my eye and remarked impetuously about how I thought having a play session with him would be amazing or something like that. So, of course, my good buddy Mataleao takes this as a cue to literally *drag* me over to where he was, talking to a group of very delicious females, with me struggling along the way because I would’ve rather have approached him myself, when he wasn’t otherwise occupied. My near struggle had me tripping as we reached him and practically falling into his arms— as if the stuttering wasn’t enough. I was definitely feeling both “I’m gonna get you back” and grateful to Mataleao for putting me in this predicament. For, although I felt kinda goofy (which really isn’t so bad IMO :) ) I was standing there with Gray’s arm around me as he finished his convo with the pretty ladies. Finally he looked at me and smiled and said, “Shall we?” Oh hell yes!
We found something that resembled a masseuse chair (again, I’m lost on the actual names of all this BDSM furniture) and quick as a flash, he bent me over it. Once he began securing me with his rope, it all went blurry. You see, I melt once rope hits me and I begin to be bound—provided it’s not any average joe schmoe on the street and the energy is there. Previously I’d only felt it with MasterTombstone, but really, he was the only one who’d ever tied me up (adeptly) in the past. So I melted and flew all at once and time slowed down and the world faded away and it was only him and me. I don’t remember particulars, only that he used his other amazing skills and instuments (a flogger and other instruments of mass destruction/pleasure) to make me go further into space. Then, I’d almost forgotten… I’d volunteered to take his birthday spanks. As it was, I’m assuming, well past midnight, it was time for me to take what I’d committed to (oh no, please, not that). He did have an evil wooden paddle—did I mention I HATE paddles?—and he made me count the swats in my head, beating my already sore bum in various rhythym and patterns to try to confuse me so that I’d answer incorrectly when he asked me how many I’d taken. I did, I must confess, screw up once—after being over halfway through! And so he started over. After getting less than halfway, he launched into a tirade of blows on my poor little bottom and thighs and SOMEhow I managed to count them despite their rapid descent. He asked how many…
“Only one more, Gray…” I said, huskily and half-tauntingly. I swear I heard him smile. So he gave it to me and then began rubbing the OUCH out of my posterior. “Happy Birthday, Gray,” I managed, my thoughts starting to roam elsewhere as he rubbed against me. Like I told him, I was really starting to regret my “no penetration” rule, J .
Once he’d untied me, we walked around, his arm still around me as I started to return to earth. We paused at the front door, I needed water, and I think he needed to talk to someone… I’d mentioned wanting to meet Lochai since I’d been logging onto www.Kink.com since I was 15, but I really didn’t think he’d give me the time of day as I’m sure he has women clamoring for his attention all of the time. Graydancer immediately took me to him and introduced me, then introduced my ass, which he claims is “literally the nicest ass he’s ever seen, it’s quite exceptional”. Given the tremendous number of beautiful women Gray has had the good fortune to work with, this was quite the compliment. We talked for a bit and I’d told him how many times I’d looked at the Model Call page and he said I should apply… hmmm… yeah wasn’t too sure about that one. But I didn’t have much time to ponder about it before I was snatched up by someone from behind.
I’m not sure how it happened, I was still so foggy from my extraordinary scene and from meeting someone I’d been watching make women cum in a way that only existed in my fantasies, but Kelley Dane struck again. Grabbing me, he told me he was going to take me hostage and ask MasterTombstone for random. I shot a pleading look at Graydancer and he said, “Well, I guess I’ll see ya later!” Thaaaannnnx.
I put up a pretty good fight but Kelley managed to bind my arms uselessly behind me and sat me down by one pole of a mechanical suspension rig thingee. He then proceeded to duct tape around my entire mouth, all the way around my head. Then tied my neck (loosely for all you safety freaks) to the pole. Then he had his cronies stand watch as he went to make his demands (of one dollar I would later find out) to MasterTombstone. I nearly escaped the ropes binding my arms once, when Kelley appeared out of no where and bound me back up again, this time tighter, while I kicked and struggled. He disappeared again.
I sat there and looked back, and in the dark depths of the very front of the room, in the corner behind the rig, I spotted Lochai doing… what Lochai does—tying up a pretty lady for to use and abuse. He saw me and looked approvingly at Kelley’s handiwork. Next thing I know I see MasterTombstone out of the corner of my eye coming toward me. He snapped out his knife and in one swift motion, the duct tape was cut off. He began to untie me and picked me up of the ground… Yay! He saved the day!
It wasn’t much later that I was bound with (what else?) six, dollar store, belts. I was bound with my knees to my chest and my wrists to my ankles and who knows what else, but I was bound so securely and so simply that MasterTombstone attached me to the pulley machine and I heard a wonderfully disturbing noise and I, bound in a human Ten ball, started to lift off the ground. MasterTombstone then took out his single tail and started to go to work on me although I was swinging above his head. I always marvelled that he was able to do that.
But alas, it only lasted a few minutes. We got kicked out of the dungeon again…
But the night was still young! We went to a V.I.P. party and I met up with known friends like my dear Ammre who introduced me to some new people, including the gorgeous Bella who indulged me in some delicious face slapping. I wasn’t at the party long before leaving with an extremely attractive couple. The events that went on in that room…well… I won’t go into them in great detail, but suffice it to say that I made someone my hand puppet for the first time, and I became a hand puppet…
Another night of creeping to bed in the dawning hours of twilight.
And yeah, there was still a day left yet.
Having been my first major hotel event, I had no idea of what to expect about D.O. I sort of felt a little as if it was going to be disappointing because of the massive amounts of hype. Boy was I wrong.
We arrived in the mid-evening Friday night due to a flat tire. I scurried to my room to change for the evening’s festivities and I opted for the newest addition to my wardrobe- a pink and black apron-like piece and matching thigh highs—oh and I finally got to wear the pink shoes that were obtained from a photoshoot a long time ago. I really never thought I’d wear them again, pink isn’t exactly my color… but they were the perfect accent! The reason I detail this particular outfit is because I was quite nervous. It left very little to the imagination and while I’m an exhibitionist, I’m also kinda self-conscious, plus I'd already got a glimpse of some of the hotties that were in attendance.
Changes spotlight from me to the major event of the evening
MinaMeow had her first hook Suspension scheduled that evening. I remember how nervous and scattered she was, sheesh, I’d be too! She didn’t make a sound (that I could hear) as they inserted the hooks which was amazing to me. But she sure as hell did as she started to go up. I work with truckers and I don’t hear that much foul language! I was really anxious as they hauled her up. She was so tense and loud and I started to wonder what the heck was the point of the act until I saw her face relax. I felt this tremendous energy wash over me as I watched her. She positively glowed. She began to sway back and force, like a little kid playing, and I caught myself swaying in time with her at one point. She started to ask those who are closest to her to spin her…. WendyBlackheart, MasterTombstone, etc. and then she yelled “Ten! Spin me!!!”. I felt honored that she wanted me to interact with her in this intense and notable moment. When it was over, that glow that I obtained in viewing this didn’t leave. Like I said in her LiveJournal/Fetlife entry —she didn’t climb the mountain that evening, she soared over it.
Focuses spotlight back on herself After I’d gone up and had a snack (low blood sugar-- it's such a pain) and recovered to join the land of the living, I started getting antsy. It was getting late and I still hadn’t had any playtime. So I started play-bratting (much different than my real bratting I assure you) with MasterTombstone and when he started to “chastise me” I told him I’d been a naughty girl. So he decided to do what should be done to naughty girls. We got to the spanking (bench? Chair? I’m not sure what to call it) and he started going to town on my rear with various instruments. It didn’t take long for me to get “pliable” when Mina happened by. I didn’t see her right away. She started beating a rhythym on my back in tandem with Tombstone. It had me flying in no time. Then they switched, he came to my front and she stayed in back. She suggested he… well… blushes “take it out and put it in my mouth”. (JEEZ how am I going to be a porn star if I get all embarrassed typing about sucking my man’s cock) So anyways… what started as a harmless little spanking scene turned into a really hot three way action and my first encounter with public fornication
Except we got kicked out of the dungeon before it was all done. Needing a place to finish we ran into Mr. Kelley Dane and the sweet little sprout. They invited us up to continue the havoc and we did. There was rope, hitachi’s, a dragon’s tail and many other instruments of doom. At one point sprout and I ended up with an apple duck taped into my mouth, which I thought was a titallatingly novel and off the cuff move on Kelley’s part. I don’t know what time we ended up heading back to the room to pass out and rest up for the following day, but suffice it to say that it was in the wee twilight hours of morning.
I swear if that was all there was to the event, I could’ve gone home happy. But no… there was two more days left…