hands

I can’t get into shibari. It’s fascinating and sometimes really beautiful, but I just don’t even think I have the patience for it.

I need it rough and sudden and urgent. The time it takes to get the ropework just right really detracts from that. I prefer function over form. Hands to hold me down, rope or whatever is around to replace the hands, then hands and pressure to subdue me when I try to fight.

And I want the other person to not even be able to wait to have everything tied off so perfectly before tearing me apart. After the takedown, sure, things can be adjusted. But, during that first struggle, I want to feel the urgency. And shibari is too paced, too patient for that.

While by no measure mute, Switch isn’t usually a very outspoken person in public situations. By this I mean he’s usually not one to speak his mind, to get too blunt. He’s fairly polite.

So, it’s even sexier when he does stuff like shoving me up against the wall of his place once we’re alone after being out with other people, grabs me through my clothes as if he’s going to tear right through them and murmurs in my ear, “I love when I finally get my hands on you”.

Because contrasts are hot.

Meet Switch, Part Ten

By the time we finished, the sun was rising. Switch removed his belt from my wrists, pulled me back against him and we fell asleep curled up with each other. There was something sort of sweet about the way he held me.

We slept only about three hours, we both had things to do or places to be in the morning. We wound up lingering in bed another hour before having to rush off.

I got a text later that day from him expressing that he’d like to see me again and asking what I was doing Friday night. It took some restraint to not just be cheesy and reply “you?”.

But, uh, yeah.

Meet Switch, Part One

Tumblr, meet Switch.

We’ve been friends for about a year now. In January, it seemed like something was going to develop between him and I. But, he’s teammates with that guy from my frat and he sort of backed off once he and I got involved. Man code or whatever. But, that guy from my frat and I are quite done for reasons I’ll detail when I have time. So, the playing field was wide open for Switch and I was receptive.

Just around twelve hours ago, I was at Switch’s place. Prior, we’d been out with friends to see a band and sort of broke off and hung around together. We danced. We started kissing. We made it through the whole night being relatively civilized adults. But, after a swing by my place for a toothbrush and some other essentials, I wound up at his.

And at around this time in the evening, he had removed his belt and tied my wrists to the headboard. Normally, he admitted, he liked to be submissive. But something about the way the night was panning out had driven him to ask if he could take charge instead. My top, jacket, bra, and shoes were scattered across his floor. My panties were still on, my skirt was bunched up around my waist. He was still fully dressed when he tied a scarf over my eyes.

“You know why I think I wanted to tie you up?” He asked as he ran a hand down my thigh. He was standing beside the bed. He gripped my thigh and pulled my legs open wide. “I think I liked the idea of having this body all to myself, to do whatever I wanted with.”

He ran his hand over my stomach and stopped at one of my breasts, tweaking the nipple. In normal interactions, he’s fairly reserved. Suddenly, now, the tone of his voice had changed and he spoke with a blunt confidence that seemed to suit him better. “And now that I have it, I think we’re going to have a little fun.”

“The stage is set
Someone’s going to do something someone else will regret
I speak in smoke signals and you answer in code
The fuse will have to run out sometime
Something here will eventually have to explode
Have to explode.”

The real bonds that hold someone aren’t rope or chains or leather. You can’t buy them in a sex shop or a hardware store. You can’t call them pervertibles or pass them off as arts and crafts supplies. They can’t be removed with a scissor or a key.

There’s a point where you just decide to give yourself over and that’s it. You’re bound, hand and foot. Locked away. Restrained. Vulnerable.

Sometimes, it’s incredibly freeing. Others, it’s horribly painful. There’s moments where it tears at you so completely because you realize the true depth of it. There’s moments where that same realization fills you with such utter joy that it renders you wordless. Surrender is a strange feeling because you haven’t completely lost yourself, just the battle.

And you’re bound long before you realize you are. There are new feelings and there are ways you can no longer move. And there’s a persistent idea, a simple phrase that at the same time feels so desperately painful and so indescribably wonderful.

I’m your girl.

itmakesmewet:

lovely.

fullfrontalnerd:

catphrodite by Marcus Ranum

It’s difficult when you’ve grown so used to submitting to someone and then, suddenly, you’re not. A balance is thrown.

Specifically to that person, there’s still a sort of deference you afford them. There’s something very much “there” that is sometimes difficult to just let lie. Because these things become forces of habit and suddenly your signals are completely crossed.

Generally, it’s just difficult not to have that dynamic. I don’t want to say I’m just hardwired to submit to people, but there is something about it that makes me very happy and feel very secure. Beyond the sexual aspect of it, the psychological level is incredibly powerful. And it’s hard to sit there sometimes and think you’d like to be serving someone but it’s just not happening for you right now.

I’ve noticed quite a few of you lamenting on here recently over a bdsm relationship that just ended and I send my condolences and best wishes. Because I know how it feels. I’m there right now and everything’s just a little off-balance.

“We sat in the car
& the night dropped
down until the
only sounds were
the crickets &
the dance of our voices

& for a moment
the world became
small enough to
roll back & forth
between us.”

– Brian Andreas, Hearing Voices.

Oh my gosh the caption on this made me laugh hysterically. Well done, quickienewyork, very well done.

quickienewyork:

©2011 The Dirty Gentleman (#388)

I love those tender bro moments in the middle of a threesome.

The thief likes to make me do this.

Kneeling, ass up, back arched, hands spreading myself apart, mouth open. It emphasizes vulnerability, availability, openness. I’m not allowed to speak when I do it, just listen and receive.

At first, I wasn’t too into the idea. I didn’t like how, after a few minutes, having my mouth open would make me drool. I didn’t enjoy just how exposed and small it made me feel.

However, since then, it’s grown on me. Sometimes, I don’t want it to end. It’s just so very simple. And when I seem a bit overwhelmed to him or when I have too much on my mind, he’ll stop what he’s doing and have me get into this position. It centers me. I don’t even mind the drooling anymore.

Ivy

Just another Adult Content site