In which it is convenient that people I know follow my tumblr:
I would like to try this.
Please and thank you.
ballgag
The real reason she’s tied down that way is because otherwise she would just give in and float away.
There’s something about the word bitch.
Slut, whore, words like that, they all tend to have a lot more accountability. A lot more agency. They seem to be a direct result of the things you choose to do and you sort of own them. My reactions to being called these words during play usually have a degree of smugness to them. It’s an accusation of being the sort of person who enjoys this stuff. And I’m confirming it.
But, bitch, I don’t know. It’s rougher. It screams ownership, subjugation. It reduces you to something animal-like, primal, something that relies on just instinct and physical cues. Simpler thoughts and more visceral reactions usually accompany being called this or having to call myself this.
I guess I should clarify that I kind of love/hate/love the word bitch.
Poor baby. It must be so hard to pretend you’re not liking every second of it.
Peek-a-boo.
Something about the tacky, “rent by the hour” quality of this is incredibly arousing.
You know you’re kinky when a common disagreement in your relationships is which color of bondage tape to purchase.
I really haven’t gotten into the art of knot-tying and rope-arrangement with any of my partners. I’ve just happened to encounter a bunch of function over form people who prefer to leap into action rather than take time in painstakingly spacing and tying each knot. It’s never really a problem for me, either. I love just getting down to business.
But, there’s really something so sexy about having to lie there and wait while your partner goes through the motions of neatly arranging the patterns in the rope work. I doubt I could hold still so long without just breaking down and begging him/her to get the show on the road. But, hm, maybe knot-tying itself is a form of sadism.
Aw, sweetie, I know you’re uncomfortable. But it’s making Master and I so happy. And that’s really all that counts when you think about it, hm?
(In other news, I am so hunting down that dress or sewing myself a version of it.)