5/16/09 Private Party

It was nice for a change to be able to sit back and shoot the breeze and toss back a few with dear friends. It was a BYOB party, and I was hesitant to bring my own booze because it seems that alcohol seems to precipitate my massive, inexplicable sub drops, as of late. But after talking to F on the way to the party, she helped me change my mind, as she had the ingredients to make our newest fave—the cosmopolitan. It brings a smile to my face, and it thrills my heart to know that I'm responsible for turning her onto this easy little mixed drink recipe. It's very special, and brings back fond memories for me of our girl's night out. :)

We all started out in the front lobby, sharing stories, drinking and shooting the breeze. We then all proceeded into the lounge, and that's where Miss F reminded me that I was in trouble, in front of the entire group. And yes, although that was somewhat humiliating, she was absolutely right. I'd not written my journal from the last play party. I'd missed my own deadline, and I had no excuse. I indeed had blown it. She said that the worst punishment she could possibly dole out upon me was to be ignored the rest of the night (very true), she also commented that would be punishing herself, as well. So she would contemplate what she was going to do with me, while I sat there with m and caressed her beautiful thigh-high boots.

(At some point, some are going to think that I'm totally SAMming (SAM=smart assed masochist) on her to get her to punish me cruelly. And yes, I am quite the masochist, but truly, it is the last thing on my mind to make her angry or displeased with me. Nothing could be further from the truth. I tend to blow things quite frequently, and these usually revolve around a theme of procrastination, not just in D/s, but in my vanilla life as well. It is at times (read—frequently) my Achille's Heel, and I know a skill I need vast improvement upon. I really do like to write. You'd think I wouldn't put it off, and want to write as quickly as possible, so my memories don't fade over time. I don't know why I do this. I wish I had a plausible explanation.)

My first mode of punishment involved a quarter, my nose, and the wall. F asked m if he had a quarter, which he didn't have one on him. Being the eager beaver that I am, I jumped up and volunteered that I had one in my pocketbook. So I ran as quickly as possible to fetch said quarter, not knowing that this would be the quarter I'd be holding against the wall with my nose for the next 20 minutes. It was indeed an unforgettable punishment, as H was beating a new subbie on the triple cross right next to me. I could hear what was going on, but couldn't watch (insert big poop lip here). It sure sounded good. But I was determined that I was going to pay my penance, so there I stood. I know there were several flashes in my direction, and people making comments, further adding to my humiliation. I was very glad when F came over and released me from the quarter. I would have stayed there the entire night, though. I'd certainly deserved it.

It was also cool that our newbie was enjoying the evening in the cage under the long table. H had several of us come and commence with a “gropefest” on the girl, and she had to guess how many hands were on her body at one time, which was pretty enjoyable. I also helped H by rubbing her down with the potato peeler gloves, and the whartenburg wheels. It was a cool scene, and very empowering.

Later on, H had me over on the triple cross, and was torturing my breasts, which he loves to do. This particular evening, however, I didn't tell anyone that my nipples were especially sensitive because it's getting around that time of the month, and like clockwork, because of my hormones they get especially sensitive, and tend to calm down once my period starts. I didn't want anyone taking it easy on me because of that reason, so I kept my mouth shut. But it was OH so much more excruciating, and made me much more reactive than I would have been under other circumstances. F also allowed another of our guests to top me in the same scene. I have great respect for this dom, but felt it completely improper to even broach the subject with MissF to allow him to play with me (which is how I feel with all doms or subs in the space). But for this evening, he'd been granted permission, and I consented to allowing him to top me for this scene. And just as I thought, he did an amazing job. I was severely chest flogged, squeezed, nerve blocked, bitten, and mind-fucked right there on the cross. He was pretty amazing. And I dropped. Again. I really wish I could get a grip on that. It's completely unnerving to me, and leaves me feeling days afterward unnerved, with a healthy dose of trepidation. Nonetheless, I do enjoy being cradled and comforted by my dear Queen, being fed water from her precious lips like a baby bird fed from its mother. I just wish that it wasn't from the floor.

Our last few hours was spent playing a game of sexy dice. We all gathered around, “renamed” some of the sides to make it more interesting, and commenced to playing a the game, which actually felt more like the kinkiest possible version of “spin the bottle”. Because of this game, I finally, FINALLY, got the chance to not only see my Queen's beautiful “stuff”, I actually got to BITE it! (AWESOME!!!!! SCORE!!!!!). And everyone else got their chance to get their own “licks” in on me, too. It really was great fun.

5/9/09 Cell popping demo

This particular evening, m and I were commissioned to wear matching outfits of black leather look bottoms and white dress shirts. I also had on a pair of black garters and stockings, and black stilletos. F had on a blue shirt that she belted around the waist, which made her look smoking hot, as usual. ;)

My duties had shifted for the evening, and instead of tending to my coffee wench duties, I was expected to sell 50/50 raffle tickets. So I sat in the lone chair by the lounge with my can, and offered the proverbial $1.00ea/7 for $5 deal to all who came in the door. Well, apparently I wasn't being terribly vocal enough, so L took up the cause and started sounding the all-call in the main dungeon area to all the kinksters that I had inadvertantly missed at the door. She as so delighted to do that, and I was more than happy to let her. It was truly nice to see her in such good spirits that night. :)

After the demo was over, not many stayed for the rest of the play party, so the rest of the evening was relatively quiet. We bid our adieus to the last remaining few at the door, and we proceeded to our private play. Apparently, Miss F had some devious little plans up her sexy little sleeve, so m and I helped her get set up to play.

I was given stretchy knit-like cap to tuck as much of my hair in as possible. After assuring F that I was ok with hooding, she showed me the leather hood I was to wear for our scene. It was very fitting, and knowing how big my noggin is, I knew this was going to be a bit of an ordeal to get into. And it was. After a bit of tugging, pulling and zipping, I was finally secure in the head device. She commented that it was funny that she could tell I was happy about to ordeal, because all she could see of the front of the mask were eyes and teeth. :) I was wrist and ankle cuffed and specially eye-bolted straight-back chair where my hands were secured to each side. On the floor behind the front two legs of the chair, she slid a spreader bar and attached my ankles wide to the bar. I was indeed feeling pretty helpless at this point. She had me slide forward to inspect my shave job, which I knew was quite dismal (I am *SO* not good at shaving down there!) and she was justifiably, HIGHLY displeased. So I was left alone for a minute, and I was able to look down and see that she had brought back alcohol swabs and her lighter. OMFG. Ok, WHAT was she going to to with that? I learned quickly enough. She swiped my tender bits in small segments with alcohol swabs and proceeded the light each segment on fire. The heat was quickly intense, and was then gone in flash, taking my hairs in the process. Yikes! The fear element was definitely there, and she looked at me and asked with a slight sneer on her face “do you trust me?” “I do, I do, Miss F”. She continued with a few more swipe and lights, and then pulled out a square, lit it and blew it in my face. The fear was highly charged and erotic, and compounded my feeling of helplessness. I was definitely HERS, to do as she pleased!

Once I was properly cleaned to her satisfaction, she placed some colored clothes pins on the girls, and lined my lower lips with more clothespins. I was slapped, flicked, pulled and pinched with the clips still attached, bringing me higher and higher to an orgasm, but not allowing me to do so. I think at one point, I had squirted a bit in spite of myself, and felt guilty for doing so, because I wasn't given permission. She brought out the wartenburg wheels and further tormented me down there by working them up the sides of my legs, across the top, and inside and outside my exterior lips. Then she got up and left me for a bit, and came back with a red popsicle, commonly referred to a “popacle” (must learn proper terminology, you know). She started working the pop across my legs, up and down my lips, across my clit, down between my lips and circled around and into my entrance. It was melting way too quickly, and she admonished me with a “you've got a MESS to clean up, little girl!”. There was a buzzy toy involved, placed directly on my clit, and again I was brought from my tranquility higher and higher to a point where I came in her hand. It was a delightful, glorious feeling. She had my pleasure in her hands, was so artful and skilled in bringing me to climax, each time looking deeply into my eyes. I indeed am a very lucky girl.

3/28/09 This was a very special night to me. I had been given my clothing directive days before from F, the usual “classy, not trashy” look that pleases her. But she threw in a new twist. “Don’t wear any perfume of any kind. I’m going to give you my own special scent”. Was VERY curious about that one (impish smile), so I obliged and came to the space, completely scentless, save for the standard soap, deodorant and hairspray.

That evening, I arrived early to help in setup, and I left shortly after everything was ready so I could pick up a new friend to come visit and have a look around the space. I took her around the space, introduced her to F, H and went to the back with F to get dressed. While back there, F showed me what she was going to “scent” me with. It was a box in a plastic bag, and in the box was a most delightfully scented powder. She had me strip totally naker, and “poofed” me all over with that luscious aroma. I felt very lucky to have the scent on me. Little did I know how every lucky I was that night! J

My friend and I mingled with others, talked quite a bit, and enjoyed the camaraderie with fellow kinksters, whilst simultaneously making the rounds as the official coffee/ashtray wench, which is what is what is required of my service. Since it was not a demo night, and there was a large event the evening before, the turnout was fairly low. But there were still some that came to play commencing in scenes that were a good introduction for my friend. The rest of the night stayed pretty much the same. Huge decided to break out the violet wand to show my friend what it was and how it worked. He had me sitting on the shorter cage bench, and he zapped me with various utensils, each increasing in intensity and caused me more and more to jump, wriggle and bite my tongue to keep from screaming. He explained to her how the wand works and what it does. She was too shy to try it for herself, which was perfectly ok. She’ll learn to appreciate it, all in good time! J

At the magic hour of one o’clock, I took my friend home and came back for more after hours play. When I returned, F already had the long cage bench laid out with a plastic dropcloth, the melted wax cooker sitting ready on the side table. I had a good idea what was about to happen. She had me strip down, tie my hair up, and lay on my back. She then blindfolded me and started to rub me down with a cold, wet towel, which gave me goosebumps. Then I’m not quite sure what was happening, but many hands started caressing me, with Faith climbing up on top and feeding me sips of beer directly from her mouth. I gobbled up every drop like a little baby bird. SO hot!  Then the wax started to pour. My skin was fairly irritated from the previous violet wand play, particularly on my breasts and upper thighs, so when those areas were hit with hot wax, it sent me into a higher pain threshold, moaning and breathing heavy to compensate for the intensity. The wax kept coming, up and down y trunk, my arms, my legs, and more hands were stroking and caressing me. I had no idea who else was playing with me, and at the time, I didn’t care. I felt like I was in the presence of a sensual shiva (BIG grin!).

And then I heard that familiar hum and smelled that burning ozone, which I’d experienced an hour previously.

Oh, Lord.

The wand.

Again.

My senses were in overdrive, but this time, I was set and ready for it. Was I wasn’t prepared for was the “jumps” that were created, through the thinner areas of wax. The electricity couldn’t penetrate through the thicker waxed areas, but once moved towards thinner areas, it created a significant jump, which prompted some loud moans and a bit of screaming. Then there was a strong VIBE turned on, pushed against my crotch, and it wasn’t long before I was sent into a quivering orgasm. F kissed me again, and then removed my mask and started to “peel” me. She then reminded me that I had a H*LL of a mess to clean up!  A GALLON of wax, baby!

After showering to remove the wax remains, I was treated to another kind Mistress who allowed her slave to pick the wax out of the back of my hair (bless his heart!). I sat and rested, while F went to work on her male sub, m. After calming down a bit and recovering, H treated me to a bit of light single tail and an exploration of some of my spinal erogenous areas (some I didn’t even know I had!).

The best part of the evening, however, was the sit down discussion with the interview questions that F had prepared beforehand. She, m and I sat and answered questions about our experiences, our lives, our wants and desires. The question was asked “who has been the most influential person in your life?” My answer, of course, was my mother. F then shared a dear story about her mother, and explained that the scented powder she’d used on me that evening was her mother’s, and it was a reminder to her of what a strong, person she was, and signifies to her a true lady. It sit here typing, and my eyes well up with tears just thinking about it. I felt so very special, comforted and privileged to have her share that with me. It was perhaps the most tender, heartfelt moment I’ve ever shared with another in the lifestyle.

Thank you so much, my Queen. I am truly blessed in your presence.

Rough and Resistant with a Smile J

So, for this play party, I was handed off for H to be used as the service wench for the evening. He takes great delight in clothing (read--FETISH), so my commission for this party was to dress up basically like a two bit whore. And all the rest of the week, we were texting back and forth, discussing my likes and limits as far as play and what I liked as far as D/s and s/m were concerned. I like the humiliation of being called slut and whore, but tend to wince at using the f word (FAT). It’s a body issue with me, as I’ve been WAY much heavier in my lifetime, and those days were pretty painful, and not in a good way. It’s a Pavlov’s dog sort of association with me, and not a moment in time I care to ever relive again.

I picked up a red tube-like top, a denim skirt that I shortened and added red lace to the bottom, a pair of black thigh-highs with red bows, and a pair of chained shoes I’d picked up from Hot Topic. That day, I’d set my hair in giant sausage curls, and made my way to the space in my Hooters t-shirt and baggy comfy jeans. I was not to have any kind of undergarments—no panties, the girls “hangin and swangin”. As I changed clothes, I heavily painted my face (down to the false eyelashes), and used fuck me red lipstick and press on nails. I was officially hooker material from stem to stern.  Had I have taken a stroll outside around the block, I’m fairly certain that I would have been accosted (or at least propositioned at every turn).

People started coming in, and I had various compliments on my get up, and several stares which made me feel a bit self-conscious, but in a good, exciting way. I’m quite the attention whore, so this role was deliciously exhilarating. I was tasked to keep the various coffee pots filled, so I set about dodging people with pots of water in hand a few times during the night.

I followed H around like a little puppy dog all night, being the good little slut as he socialized with fellow members. I donned my “Hello, Im….lacey” tag, and went into the space with H to talk to the demonstrators, B and S. B seemed to take and instant liking to me and my costume, seeming like he sensed that I was eating up the attention. He decided that he wanted to play a little, so he had me grab another name tag, on it he wrote “Hello, Im….Soooo Tastey”. He and H talked for a bit, and B asked me if I’d ever done any rough play. I explained that yes, I do like it rough, and I’ve had some martial arts training in the past, so rough is ok with me. He then asked if he could do anything to me, I said basically yes (which I knew better). He then said “so it would ok with you if I reached up into your colon and tickled your liver?”. I thought about it. And thought about it. Himmed and hawed a little, then said “well, it’s not like it hasn’t been done before”. OY, I’m such a slut!

After H’s round as dungeon monitor, he decided that it was time for a little of our own play. He pulled out a length of thick, red rope and proceeded to tie me into a full body harness. The piece started in the middle as a doubled length of rope with knots tied in strategic places that allowed for more side looping and pretty patterns. The best part, however, was the “happy knot” that was placed lowest, down in my crotch, resting firmly on my clitoris, then back up the backside and connecting to the top knot on the back of my neck. The design was simple, yet quite effective. H was leading me around the dungeon and off to the smoking room, where he proceeded to make me cum in spite of myself in front of delighted onlookers in the smoker’s lounge. And he did this quite a few times, in various places. He brought me back to the space for pictures and had me pose on the triple cross, and then brought me to another orgasm right there on the apparatus.

We waited for the magical hour of 2a to roll around, but there were still people that wanted to stay, so F reiterated the new “after hours” rules, and we started imbibing some Coors Lites that we had back in a cooler. I pounded 2.5 beers in about 20 minutes, and H then decided he wanted to “purple-ize” my breasts. He had me kneel in front of him, placing my hands on his thighs and leaning forward so he could get a firm grasp of the girls. He started to wrap *VERY* tightly, which was an amazing feeling, but by the time he was just about finished, something very bizarre and inexplicable started to happen to me. I  started to get a MASSIVE head rush, and it felt like waves were splashing over me, and suddenly I was catapulted into what felt like a drug-induced state. I could hear him checking in on me, asking me if I was still green. I heard myself say I was green, then another wave hit me again, and I suddenly forgot where I was, who I was, or even why I was there. He asked me again, this time I was unable to utter words. I really don’t know what happened, but it concerned H so much that he stopped our scene immediately. He released me and set me on the floor for a break and some water, and kept checking on me, talking to me to try to figure out what exactly had happened. Thought it might have been too much alcohol in too short a time, so I rested and we watched F work her magic on her sub, m. H went to take pictures and I sat and watched.

An hour later, I was feeling much better, and we started another scene, this time with my being hooked up to the wench. I was wrapped and bound to the bar, the bar then wound up to just over my head, my elbows at shoulder height. H warmed me up with some nice, suede flogger strikes, then proceeded to some of the heavier stuff that I’d picked out, such as the rubber flogger and the ball chain flogger. The rubber flogger had quite a bite to it, and I was reeling in the pain and eating it up, then it started happening again. The wave came crashing over my brain, and suddenly I was back into that drug-induced state I’d felt previously, only this time, I had only been drinking water. Apparently, I dropped like a rock. I could hear people talking to me, and I was unable to respond. F and H cut the ropes from the wench and set me down again, with more water and come chocolate. They both were very concerned about me, and made me stay put on the floor until I was back to normal again.

I was SO disappointed. I’m still disappointed.  In the 9 years that I’ve played and been worked over, scene after scene, I’ve NEVER had an experience quite like that one. And it still to this day is very disconcerting. I’m hoping that H is right and that I just had an off night. I’d hate like to hell to think that I’m no longer capable of indulging my masochistic urges because my body wants to just give out on me for no apparent reason.

Mardi Gras Party 

I was *SO* excited to go to this party! I arrived earlier that afternoon at Casa de H & F, and hitched a ride up to the hotel party site. After a few pit stops for last minute clothing items, munchies and adult beverages, we finally arrived @ the hotel several hours before the party. We had adjoining rooms and were expecting my date for the evening, L, to arrive a little later. F wanted to catch a nap before the party, so I sat and watched a movie when L arrived, case of Bud in hand. We started imbibing right away, and we sat, chatted a bit and watched the movie. Hours later, F woke up and we started getting dressed and ready for the party, and pounding the Buds.

I came with F, H & L into the ballroom area, already fairly schnockered, checked in and walked our way back to the tables. We found a place in the back corner table with MR and her lovely slave, j, and C and B. We all sat and shot the breeze for a bit, drank more beer and H sauntered off to chat with fellow kinksters arriving at the party. The band was playing some great 80’s and 90’s tunes, and people were already dancing. We enjoyed some snacks and goodies from the food tables at the opposite side of the room. It was really nice to catch up with the others at the table, and we talked for quite awhile. MR notified us of j’s assignment for the evening, which was to get her cock sucked by another man (FUN!). H was seated on the ledge by her, and MR let her know about j’s assignment, which promptly caused him to bolt from the area. (hehehehe) I then decided it was time to go collect some beads, so I set about propositioning all the bead-bearing men with the BIG beads to view and sample “the girls” in exchange for the baubles (it seemed like such an even trade). I collected a few strands, then came back to the table to imbibe a few more beers. MR offered to show me some of her “toys” back in her room. We went back, she showed me some of her whips and floggers, and we “shared a round”, and went back to the party.

The “round” was my first mistake of the evening. I was already tipsy, and impaired judgement is not one of my strong suits. Nonetheless, in all my sluttiness, after the round I proceeded back to the party room to proposition ALL the beaded guys within viewing distance for their beads. I might as well have just taken off my top and thrown it in the middle of the dance floor. One guy was particularly fond of “the girls” and spent some quality time with them. His wife soon joined in the mutual fondling. And I was becoming ever more oblivious.  They wanted to take me back to their room. At least I had enough presence of mind to tell them that I needed permission to do so (and thank GOD for that!). We walked back to my table and they asked F if I could come back with them, which she promptly told them NO. She then assigned me to a corner and had people “keep an eye on me” so I wouldn’t saunter off with any more complete strangers.

As I stayed around the table behaving myself, darling j and I were goofing around, and she had to use the restroom. She asked MR to go, but MR insisted that she demonstrate the “peepee dance” for everyone, and to show me how to do it properly. It involved holding the crotch, bending over and hopping back and forth with some sense of urgency, begging to go potty. J and I had GREAT fun practicising the peepee dance, to the delight of F, MR and all the others within shouting distance. J

Somehow, I managed to win the doorprize. I remember hearing them call numbers, and thought nothing of it. Then H & L were telling me I had to go up and get my prize. WOOHOO!!!! I never win those things, are u KIDDING ME???   I was busy, dammit. Must. Have. More. Beads. So as I collected my prize of various cheapy adult toys, I told the announcer I wanted more beads. He made the announcement and all the guys started lining up. That was a bigger prize to me than what I had in the bag!  J

A little later, the band was playing an awesome song, and F and I got to go out on the dance floor and shake our tail feathers a bit. She’s such a HOT, sensual dancer! I was having such a delightful time caressing her skin, moving in time with her and looking deep into her eyes. Unfortunately, however, she wasn’t feeling too good, so we eventually made our way back to the table, and finally to our rooms, as the festivities started to wind down.