Friday, June 26, 2009

Another Day, Another Shoot at Kink.

This time they flew me out to do their newest site, Everything Butt, which has just went LIVE—check it out! The night before the shoot wasn’t nearly as eventful as the last time where I explored the Armory with the Naked Kombat boys (detailed here. I went to bed early and everything!

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 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!

<3 Ten

Thursday, June 11, 2009

I was asked an interesting question...

He wondered if I would still be involved in the lifestyle if I hadn't lost my father at such a young age. (He died a week before my 5th birthday. Drunk driving accident. Don't do it, folks. You become a deadly weapon when you toy with even buzzed driving).

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

The History of Ten

Ten was born prior to my first Playa. Since it’s also a Playa name, that is kind of cheating… you’re supposed to get your Playa name –ON- the Playa. But meh, petty details.

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.