Playing with Lightning

You know those globes with the electricity inside them? Aren't they fun to touch? Making different patterns in blue lightning with your fingertips? I love those things... even if they don't hurt a bit.

Imagine... being inside one. If it was safe, that would be fun.

Imagine... becoming one. All of that energy dancing inside. Invisible. Branching out. Reaching out for... contact.

Imagine... the power being turned up. Quite a bit. Now the lightning inside is a sensation... even if barely noticable.

A human plasma globe to play with. A naked female plasma globe. And this one felt wonderful.

If I put my hands flat, I could feel the 'bloom' of current beneath the skin, following along beneath the surface. Pet's reactions assured me she could as well. Nothing too intense. Just energy we could feel. Together.

If I used my fingertips, currents tingled and tickled them. Almost uncomfortable... but not quite. Walking my fingers across her skin, all over her body... dragging fingers across it, sometimes slow, sometimes fast. I loved playing with the lightning. I didn't need to see it. Pet was writhing. I felt the power.

I got toppy.

Sir grinned.

Now to make it hurt.

When I pulled my fingertips away... just a bit... the lightning followed. Sparks flew. They hurt. Both of us.

Cool.

This is where many Sadists would stop the physical contact. It's a good thing I am a masochist.

Sir turned up the power.

My hands were implemets of increased pain. Or increased pleasure... depending on the level of contact. My nipples and lips were as well.

We were both sharing the same pain... and I was controlling it.

I was loving it. Pet's muffled sounds indicated she did as well.

Some metal implements worked as well. A D-ring on a collar had no effect. A metal clip produced beautiful arcs... and pet danced beautifully beneath it... but I could not feel the wonderful pain. A knife arced too intensely and make us both yelp, even though I was holding the wooden handle. With that one, we tried a lower setting. It was still too painful. I wonder why...

More metal items will have to be available... next time.

And I am also eagerly looking forward to being the ball. *big grins*



Before you ask, I showed the kit here.

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Electric

My camera phone couldn't have captured any of the sparks in the dark. There were many, many sparks.

The ball gag for pet came in especially handy with the internal probe.

*walks fingers up spine and chuckles evilly...* ;)

 
Tonight apparently will be even more interesting...

*shivers*

See who else is being sinful with me today at Sinful Sunday.

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Over The River and Through The Woods...

... to the Big Bad Wolf's house I went.

I didn't get photos of my outfit hanging in shreds off of me, hanging from the ceiling... or the knife.

I didn't get photos of me screaming, writhing, turning 360s in my restraints... fighting the pain.

I didn't get photos of my back arching, ass raising, teasing, seeking... dancing for more pain.

I didn't get photos of when he filled each hole, as much as I could possibly take... and then 'just a little bit more'.

I didn't get a picture of being unable to move, trapped by vibrators, left alone... cuming helplessly.

I didn't get a picture of the blissful look as I flew, so relaxed, so gone... only the primal, greedy, animal me remaining.

This was all before dinner and only the beginning of a very long date. So much  pain, so much screaming, so many orgasms... And I didn't even think about a camera... I must be doing it wrong. ;)

I did remember my camera the next day when we went out.

Now the smell of sulfur will make me wet...

See who else is being sinful with me today at Sinful Sunday.

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Slut Quotes

I didn't pick them... You guys on Twitter did...

Why is it called 'blow job' anyway?

I don't blow, & 'job' sounds like work.

How about 'swallow fun' instead?

 

Girl: "He peed on me."

Me: "I think that means he really likes you."

 

"god, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to tell my mom to blow it out her ass..."

 

Subs remember that sometimes anger over a wrong doesn't surface for days. Like subdrop. Have a support network if you play on the dark side.

 

"Men who are good with cats are usually good with women."

 

I don't do 'innocent' well.

 

Wouldn't it be nice if you could safeword in real life?

 

Sexy isn't in your body. It is in your soul.

 

Yay! Prevention is fun! RT @UberFacts Having an orgasm at least 3 times a week reduces your likelihood of dying from heart disease by 50%.

 

I love it when one holds me down, his hand clamped over my mouth, so another can use me harder. Then they trade... again... #FucktoyFriday

 

"I would call you a cunt, but you have neither the depth nor the warmth."

 

Hey guys quit sending cock pics. If I want to see one all I have to do is ask any nearby man. And believe me I've seen better than yours. ;)

 

Inject oranges the day before with vodka.

Then eat them.

Best. Screwdrivers. Ever.

And environmentally friendly.

 

It is masturbation o' clock!

 

Hey everybody! @slut_t has her phone on vibrate on her bare cunt under skirt at work until lunch. EVERYONE say "Hi" to her... ;) Please RT!

 

Video: Mmm… Throat fucking and bukkake… from a very sexy Dom… http://tumblr.com/xrx186gd7a

 

The music my collar made as I worked made me smile all night. The rings jingling reminded me of fucking. No one else knew what the sound was.

 

"Never water yourself down for someone who can't take you at 100 proof."

~a coworker on FB

 

My mind goes into a very different place when I go into Subby Service mode. A very happy place. Ego reduction is not a bad thing. Freeing.

"May I please cum again Sir?"

"Yes, if you must."

"Oh, I must Sir. I must."

*slutty grin*

 

Video: #FucktoyFriday Me cuming. Hard! The story I have yet to write… http://bit.ly/eEx3Cx

I can make even a funeral sluttier. #Slut

 

Any bar that stocks boxes of wet wipes & bowls of condoms in every possible location is now my favorite bar.

 

I said the other day I wanted to learn how to make towel animals. Now I know how to make a towel cock. http://bit.ly/oL5L0w

 

Yes. The rape/kidnapping story: http://t.co/kYLqBle “@xntrickk: @SlipperyWhnWhet was that a pre-planned experience?”

 

So if you star my tweets but don't talk to me, it's like you're a secret admirer. Or a stalker. Or want to fuck me. Whichever. Thank you.

 

Some are under the impression that I am the perfect sub. This is not true.

 

RedTube link: http://t.co/pvprlox0 There may be other interesting things there... ;)

 

"There is only Sir. And oxygen. The second is a privilege. I exist for him." *eyes lose focus*

 

Just look at what happens when my mood turns switchy... http://t.co/p9bI29RR http://t.co/CXoZ0aAn

 

I wrote it. Finally. Public Exposure: The Third Birthday Fantasy | A Slut's Memoir http://t.co/mdxVdXzo

 

#ThingsILearnedLastNight: I truly am a slut.

Submissives: The one thing you can't be subby about is your own aftercare. Demand it! Explain your needs before. And have a backup. #Subdrop

 

Please don't ask me what I think then tell me it's wrong.

 

My post upset/angered some. Trigger warning ... Fuck you. Without a condom. | A Slut's Memoir http://t.co/wkFNGQJ7

 

"How r u" tweets bug me. Let me stop tweeting how I am & type it all over just for you. It's Twitter, not IM. If you really care read my TL.

 

Unfollowing disrespectful tweets about a death. Period.

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A Submissive Masochist Slut's Review of 50 Shades of Grey

I caved. I read it. I didn't read it to count the number of times the same words were used. I didn't read it to bitch about how much better I could have written it. I started reading with an open mind. I tweeted while I was reading the book, and after I finished it.

I am... reading 50 Shades... *hangs head in shame* 

One can not mock what one has not read. 

Sometimes... ok, all of the time... my facial expressions give me away. I shouldn't read this book at work on the floor. 

The juniors clothing sections should go 'kinky' after the movie. I fit in those sizes right now. Junior girls have the best slutty clothes. 

Having it *did* start an interesting conversation at work last night... 

"Oh, you're reading that book too?" *grins* 

Finished the book. Six lashes? Seriously? Try 100! 

*now passing that book on to a coworker* 

That book wasn't written for experienced masochists, but I can understand the buzz for vanillas. I remember back then... ‪ 

I also can't say it was written well... but then again, my blog isn't either. 

They also cut out some of the most fun stuff with that hard limit list... ;) 

But it did get me wet. 

I am a masochist. I do not write fiction. And I am bored enough at work to tweet a link into the ‪#50shades‬ hashtag. ;)100 Lashes 

I can only speak for myself. To me submission = confidence.

So many have mocked the writing, the research, the characters. I have more important things to do with my life.

What if all of this helps some women find what I have found?

I do remember back then before I knew anything at all about kink. It hasn't even been three years for me.

I remember that first time.

I remember a tall, mysterious man with unreadable grey eyes... and so many rules... so strict...

I remember being swept up and away by all of the sensations, by the surprising joy I found in only being an object for his pleasure.

I remember that fucking.

I remember falling helplessly, hopelessly in love with him.

I remember the devastation when it ended.

It was only the beginning...

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DARING: What are your 50 shades? (TMI Tuesday)

I decided to play along with TMI Tuesday for the first time. I just finished this book yesterday, and much of this was already on my mind, so the title caught my eye.

Who am I kidding? It's always on my mind...

What are your 50 shades?

1. I enjoy the idea that my partner wants to inflict pain on me that:

a. makes me curious 

b. is titillating and sexually arousing 

c. that leaves me screaming and/or crying because that’s the way I like it

I pick B. Definitely B. And C. I am not a silent, suffering masochist. I love to fight it. *grins*

2. Do you like being forced to dress or act in a way that is humiliating? If yes, please describe. If no, why not?

If it is someone I trust, I do enjoy it very, very much. Describe? I am a lazy blogger... but here is one example: http://www.aslutsmemoir.com/2011/10/public-exposure-third-birthday-fantasy.html

3. Do you like seeing bruises, scars, or marks that were caused during sex on either you or your partner? What kind of marks?

Bruises and marks, yes. Not scars. No permanent marks. A hard limit. What kind? This was the first time for me:

*purrs*

4. Would you like to be forced to do sexual things that you don’t necessarily like to do? Yes or No.

I have given consent for Sir to do exactly that. I always learn something about myself. Example: http://www.aslutsmemoir.com/2011/04/serving-alone.html

5. Do you want to be forced to watch your lover with someone else? Yes, No or It depends.

No. I enjoy watching my lovers with others, but that is not forced. The only time I am ever forced to watch and not participate is when I have been defiant. A Slut Time Out. To me it is a punishment if I want to look away. (No example here. I rarely blog about those times.)

6. What dirty (sometimes inappropriate) things do you like to say to your sexual partner?

I say anything, everything... or just make growls and screams... and usually don't remember any of it later. I wish I did. “Please fuck me. I want to cum. I want you to rape me and treat me like the dirty little cunt I am. I want your friends to use me and cum in all of my holes” is one example I will never forget. http://www.aslutsmemoir.com/p/consensual-nonconsent.html

Bonus: Finish this statement: I like being powerful in bed because __________.

... it allows me to submit. I am a submissive. I am a slut. I have the holes. I have safewords. I hold all of the power. I. Know. It. And I know how to use it... to better serve, of course... ;)

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the weekly TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment on the TMI Tuesday blog (and mine if you'd like) so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to from your website!

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The Long Road

Well, I missed just Sinful Sunday last week. And this week I don't have a lot that I am allowed to share... Well, these pictures are for me anyway. Just a glimpse will bring back the entire memory of the day. You guys will just have to wonder what I've been up to. Trust me. It was amazing!

It had been 56 days. Fifty-six days without any cock. At. All. And only a handful of orgasms during that time.

Why? Because I earned it. I tried to keep my whining to a minimum. I learned a lot during those 8 weeks. It was not easy. I would much rather go through bootcamp again. I needed it though... 

This week it was over. Finally. All that was between me and my date was a very long drive... with no sleep...and a deadline... across the Sound, through fields and forests, up and down mountains, around lakes... 

I was so close to my destination. Originally I had been 30 minutes ahead of schedule, but I had diverted from my orders. I had made a stop. (A decision I would make again.) Then I was running eight minutes late. I had already made up six of those.

I ended up on this road. (Thank you very much Tom-Tom for the shortcut.) It doesn't look bad here at all. It was actually fun bouncing along. This was before my phone bounced into the back of the truck. This is before the gravel disappeared and turned into dirt, then ruts... before the road itself disappeared.

Suddenly there was no more anything. I stopped. I was looking at where a river had washed everything away. What used to be a wide trail was now in the middle of dry waterfalls. There was no water that day, but the landscape was carved into a series of steps that happened to be in my way. Just past the river bed, the trail resumed.

I couldn't turn around. Not only I would be very, very late, I literally could not turn my truck around. There was simply no place to do so.

I wanted to cry. But I did not want to give up. I had waited long enough.

I tilted my head, trying to choose two 'steps' my truck would fit on without rolling. The ground was soft. My truck was already covered in mud. The poor thing is not a four wheel drive.

I did not roll. I only almost did.

I arrived six minutes late. The mud, grass, & branches stuck all over the truck explained why. I was forgiven. It was an amazing day.

Nothing can stop a motivated slut.

See who else is being sinful with me today at Sinful Sunday.

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The little red haired girl

Little one was playing with a friend's Fisher Price toys last night. The original ones. The family of four little wooden people flew on the plane to the Three Bear's house. What a giant key they have.

Now with eight in the tiny home, don't forget Goldilocks, it was a bit tight for space. So out came a bigger home with all the original furnishings except for the television. Little one didn't seem to mind.

The furnishings, sewing machine, washer, and dryer were placed efficiently... as they should be... Remember these are antiques. This was the very early 70's. Did I play like that at her age with these same exact toys?






This is what we did before video games, computers, and cell phones. When we weren't playing outside that is. A full day's entertainment, and were weren't halfway through the box yet.

Suddenly out came all of the other people. The farmer with his plastic hat. Grandma with her white bun. The bulldog. This caught my attention.

Little One happily played with the new barn, silo, and people... setting up the fence, impaling the chickens and rooster on it... posing the horse, cow, pig, sheep, dog... making the barn door go "MOOoo" giggling endlessly.








I was lost though. I saw her. The little red haired girl.

This was me... my choice of character way back then. I remembered her and traveled back through time. My stories were often a bit darker than most girls' though... kidnapping... bondage... forced slavery... spanking... I was always a damsel in distress... as far back as I can remember.


How did you play with your toys?

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