Two Sadist and one Masochist Went Into a Play Space …

Co-topping. I never really thought all that hard about it before it happened to … happen. I have heard that it can be a fantasy for bottoms – two or more tops playing more or less simultaneously with the same bottom. I didn’t think much about it, one way or another, but I read about tops that found it irritating or frustrating that their bottoms wanted more than one. Not necessarily because the tops didn’t want to share at all, but because there is only so much space on one body to play with; it can be hard to have fun when another top is hugging the place!

I can’t say that I share this view. I really don’t.

From time to time I have loaned Kitty to others, but there are rules. (Aren’t there always?) The most important one is; I will be there the whole time. Unless it so happens that I don’t want to, and Kitty feels comfortable with that. The common reason for this is my own body’s sometimes lack of willingness to cooperate. As a consequence, I can’t give Kitty the beatings she wants, and that I want her to have.

While I say ‘common reason’, it really hasn’t happened that often and it didn’t happen at all before our relationship had reached a place where we both where comfortable with it. It’s actually quite fun watching your girlfriend get a beating from someone we both like and trust. From time to time I have also agreed to have her being a rope bunny for V or others. Only a time or two has any of this led to discomfort of any kind, and then it was elements in play that we could not foresee. Luckily, they were easily fixed, or forgotten.

But neither of this is co-topping.

I have only really co-topped once. Having someone to plan with, even if it was just planning then and there, was great fun. Having someone to send sly looks and big grins or laugh with when Kitty howled, was great, great fun. It was V that was my co-top that evening. Naturally, I guess.

We had planned for somethings, and other things just happened. I had packed a small bag; she had packed a bigger one. The venue provides ice-cubes and we were all set. V had brought ropes and Kitty where very soon in them. It was the first time I saw her in predicament bondage. On her toes with clower clamps on her nipples. If she put down her heels the clamps bit harder. The ice made her shiver and gasp.

(Now I’m starting to regret not writing about this earlier. Details have been forgotten and what I remember best is Kitty’s howls of pain and V and me laughing until my face hurt.)

Later on V put Kitty over a high bench and tied her to it. We proceeded with various tools; hands, wooden spoons, spatulas, paddles, the very evil stick and the thing that made Kitty cry out the most; two long zippers. (In case you do not know what a zipper is: it’s a long row of clothespins on a thread. You attach all the pins to the skin, preferably a place where the skin is delicate. When you start ripping of the tread all the pins get ripped off at once. It hurts. A lot. Hence the howls.)

While V came up with good ideas and was excellent in executing them, she also deferred to me. If this was because Kitty is my girlfriend and submissive or because I most likely know her the most or some other reason, I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I didn’t really think about it until later. (Perhaps I should ask now?) But V did. And maybe that is the reason why I don’t see the problem with co-topping? Maybe other tops bicker over place and power in the scene, and I didn’t experience that. Maybe.

All of us had a really good time.

That is not to say that Kitty didn’t have objections. Or objections are too strong a word; she wished somethings a little differently, should something similar happen again. I have taken them to heart and plan to have her refresh my memory, because sooner or later, something similar will most certainly happen again.

On this V and I agree wholeheartedly.

My First Experience as a Rope Bunny.

Even before my actual first day in the kink scene, I could not understand why so many liked rope, being tied up and tying others up. More than liked – they were completely hooked on rope. Now, bondage I could understand, but rope, this intricate and time-consuming business – not my thing. Quick bondage to prevent my submissive from moving around and to let her feel that she is, in fact, not in control – that is something else entirely.

My girlfriend have liked – or more correctly loved – rope from long before we met. Because I had no interest in binding her up, I had no trouble letting others do the deed. I was not going to take something she liked away from her. With a trusted friend, V, who likes to rig rope – there never were any problems.

Except for one. I still did not get why people so loved rope. Of course, this was a minor problem – and wholly mine. Nevertheless, I am curious of nature.

After over a year and a half in the BDSM community, that curiosity finally got the best of me and I asked V, the rigger, if she could use me as a bunny, at one time or another. She thought that was a definite possibility.

I told V that I had thought a lot about being tied up, and what it was about it that gave me the willies. Because the thought really gave me the willies, most of the time. The few times it did not, it made me curious instead. Not being able to move and not being able to get away was naturally on the top of my list. I am a control freak and it is not easy to be in control if you are tied up. Or, more accurately, it is not easy to feel in control. I am sure there are some dominants out there who like being a rope bunny and order their partner to tie them up.

V got past this worry by stating that we could try a leg first. One leg is far from a full body binding. It would most likely not give me the feeling of utter helplessness that I so much feared.

After we agreed that I could be her rope bunny at one time, I began thinking about it even more and wondered if I would ever dare to bring it up again if she did not.

In my mind, I could react in three different ways to being tied up.

Either I would freak out, as I feared. It was what I thought most possible, in my heart of hearts. (In my heart of hearts, I am a pessimist.)

Alternatively, I could end up with feeling like this: “Eh, is this what they are going on about? Why should this be so special? Could you get me out of the ropes now, please, this is boring.”

Or, I could love it and finally, totally, understand why so many love rope. (This feeling and understanding is what I wanted the most, naturally. I am pessimist, but I am also a dreamer and never without hope.)

Shades of grey is seldom present in my day dreaming scenarios.

In the Easter vacation, I was at a kink party and while looking at V tying up another woman, I tried to figure out what I felt about being tied. Not at some time or another, but then and there, with these friends. I decided that I was okay with it. Even if I freaked there was no one there to hold it against me or call me weird or stupid. Just friends.

Therefore, when V had let the other woman loose I asked her if I could be her rope bunny during the party. She said that we could try it at once. I got out of my skirt and over to her on the mattress. I have seen enough rope scenes to know that a tight skirt is not the right thing if you are going to be a rope bunny. I laid down on my back and V begun to tie my left leg, heel against backside.

And … I was gone.

She could not have gotten half way up my bent leg before I floated off on a cloud.

I have nothing to compare it to … I was just … gone.

I was not indifferent and I certainly did not freak out.

I loved it.

I loved the feeling of the rope. I loved the way V tied me up and the way she repositioned me so she could tie the other leg too. I loved the music in the background.

I was on a happy, little cloud, but I was still aware, if only barely. I can remember hearing people talk, but not what they talked about; only that it was too loud at one point. I can remember V and my girlfriend talking to me and to each other, and that I answered, but I cannot remember what. I think they asked how I was doing several times, which does not surprise me. I was very doubtful to the whole affair only minutes earlier.

When V had done both my legs, she asked if she should tie my hands too. I focused enough to think how I felt about it, before I said yes. Having my legs bound was so much not a problem; I could not believe it would be a problem having my hands bound too. It would probably feel even better.

It did.

For a while the only thing anyone could get out of me, was small moans. It felt so good.

Time disappeared completely. I still do not know where it went or how much of it that got away.

Even on my little, fluffy cloud I felt my limbs begin to protest against being in the same position. I think I told V that she had to let me loose. I have doubts as to how coherent I was at that point, but V did understand what I wanted and began taking the ropes off.

It took a good, long while for me to land after the rope high. Truth to be told, I think it took days to completely wear off. At first I could not talk, I could not hold a cup and I could not sit up on the mattress. I felt so weak and full off fluff and I did not mind the least. I just mumbled, moaned and laughed. My girlfriend laid down beside me, petted me and laughed with me. I was so high and so happy.

Even now, over a week later, I still do not understand what happened or exactly how it could happen. If I should try to describe the experience with other words than me on a happy, fluffy cloud, I would say that it was a bit like a deep mediation combined with a good, warm massage. At least, I imagine something like that. I was so relaxed, mentally and physically, both during and after being tied up.

I think my intense reaction to being tied up have several sources. The major one is that as a control freak I seldom, if ever, let go of the control of my life and my surroundings, not completely or for long. To let go so utterly must have felt kind of heady in and for itself. As to how I could let go like that when I expected to freak out more than anything … I think that has to do with the feeling of safety, warmth and amity in the room. There was nothing to fear, on any level or in any shape. And of course, I feel that I know V and I trust her to look after me when I am in her ropes. Having my girlfriend there did not hurt either.

Summa summarum: The fact that I felt safe made it possible for me to turn of my head in a way I am rarely capable of.

I have never had my movements so restricted and I have never felt so free and at peace.

It was glorious.

A Dominants Perspective on Feeling Safe

My impression is that a feeling of safety is a necessity to make submissives (and dominants) want to play, but when this feeling of relaxation and safety is developed, it persists through humiliation, pain, tears and even fear. If consent is not violated, of course.

To feel safe is paramount for both submissives and dominants before, during and after play, but it is also my impression that what makes a submissive feel safe is not necessarily what makes a dominant feel safe. And of course, there will always be differences between people, even if they use the same label.

Feeling safe when bound tight with ropes does not make much sense for me, but I know of several who feel safe that way.

Feeling safe with a hand or two around my throat does not make much sense either.

To give up all my power to someone else, even someone I trust, is not safety, for me.

I have other safety triggers, so to speak.

Lying in bed with my girlfriend with a leg over her legs, my face snuggled against her neck and a hand at her throat makes me feel loved and safe, because she trusts me and feels safe that way. Being the big spoon with my arms around her is also a good place to be.

It makes me feel safe when she tells me that something is wrong during or after play. She takes responsibility and help me take care of her, and of us. She does not want to hurt me by letting me hurt her.

To have one hand in her hair or a hand around her jaw, or even better both, makes me feel both powerful, relaxed and safe.

It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy when she kneels by my feet and put her head in my lap. Or when she sits in front of my chair so I can lean forward and embrace her, and maybe give her some cuddly pain.

To have one or both hands around her throat does not only feel good to me, it feels safe. She has given herself up to me, and I find a sense of well-being in that.

Sometimes putting my collar on her makes me feels safe. In a particularly stressful situation some months back I got up, found her collar and put it on her, so I would have control over a part of my life – her. It made me feel better.

All this is not to say that I never feel safe when I am the little spoon or when I have my head in her lap – I do, no doubt about it. However, I think these examples are good illustrations as to how dominants and submissive have different ways to feel safe, as well as similarities.

This is just my perspective, of course.

The Three C’s

As a newbie in BDSM I have done quite a bit of reading and thinking and discussing. Both about doing kinky stuff and about having a D/s relationship. It did not take long before I saw some words repeat themselves, and I dubbed them the three C’s. The three C’s is probably on the top five list on how to make a D/s relationship work – or any relationship for that matter. For me, those words are the top three on that list. Better yet, they are all on the top of the list, together.

Consent. Compatibility. Communication.

Consent.

Consent is vital for any relationship. From consensual non-consent or blanket consent to enthusiastic consent and everything in between – consent is what distinguish a healthy power exchange relationship from abuse. I read and hear about consent everywhere, and for a reason. It is not easy to be new and not completely get how important consent is and how many shades consent comes in. In the beginning, consensual non-consent sounded awfully like abuse to me. Now I know a bit more and the term does not sound as frightening.

Personally, I like enthusiastic consent the most. It is not necessary all the time, but often enough to hold my doubts and worry in check. A lot of the time, I get her consent by asking her to do something and she does it, and by her sounds and other reactions when I do something to her. It is not as if I find something new and just do it without talking about it or give her a warning first. Informed consent is important. Here is where the two other C’s comes in.

Compatibility.

To find someone that you are compatible with is not easy, but if you find someone who floats on the same waves as you do, the wait is worth it. I am not only talking about kinks. For a relationship to work compatibility is necessary both in a vanilla setting and in a kinky one. It will not be easy to have a relationship when one partner only wants to party in their free time and the other only wants to go on hikes. If there is no middle ground, there is not much for a relationship to grow on. The way I see it, compatibility in a vanilla setting is as important, if not more, than having compatible kinks. (If you want to have a vanilla relationship too, that is, and not just a D/s relationship.)

As for compatible kinks, who cares what rest of the world thinks of your kinks when you have a partner that enjoys them as much as you do? To find someone that you have many kinks in common with can be a hardship for some. I have read about people who just cannot seem to find someone who is into the same things as them. And I have read about many people who have found the one that fulfill their own kinks to perfection, even if they did not think it possible at first.

I think it is important to remember that people are first and foremost not kink delivery systems, but people. Chances are you will not find someone who like all the things you like as much as you like them and nothing else. Do not write a list about all the things that a prospective partner have to be and like; you might miss out on a lot of great people if you do. Then there is the fact that some people might learn to like and love new kinks, because their partner like this kink or that kink so much. They might grow into it, given the chance and the time to get used to it. Then again, they might not. It is probably not smart to begin a relationship on the assumption that the new partner will learn to love a kink that you cannot live without. Talk about it, a lot, and be clear when you communicate. This is where the last C comes in.

Communication.

I have read a lot of post and articles that has claimed another version of the three C’s. Communication, communication and communication. In a D/s relationship, communication does not fix everything any more than in a vanilla relationship, but it is a beginning. There will not be possible to clarify or fix anything if you do not communicate.

In addition, open communication is even more important when one partner have all the authority in a relationship and a green card for giving pain when one wants to. I would think it is good to have a submissive who is a secure enough communicator that she may tell the dominant that she feels like she is coming down with the flu, before the dominant decides to give the submissive an ice cold shower. Informed consent goes both ways. I would feel horrible if I inadvertently made my girlfriend sick, (I would certainly not consent to do so) or harmed her in any way when it could have been avoided by open communication.

I can honestly say that I have never been in a relationship where I have communicated this much. I am not a great communicator. I like to talk to my girlfriend, my friends and my family, but I am not good at talking about heavier stuff. It gets stuck in my head, sometimes in my throat, and I cannot get the words out. If the other part is as bad as I am at communication, little communication will find place. I do not like the fact, but it is a fact.

Fortunately, my girlfriend is much better at communication than I am and makes it possible for me to communicate without having too much trouble. It does not make all conversations easy, but it makes it possible even when it is hard.

A Year and Then Some

It has been one year and some weeks and I still have not managed to completely kill of this blog. Granted, I have starved it quite a bit. One post a month was not what I had planned, but I do believe it is better than nothing. This is the third blog that I have made, and the only one who kind of survived a year. That must count for something.

One year and some weeks ago, I started this blog. Almost at the same time, I went to my first three kinky gatherings. Three gatherings in the span of two weeks. I am still a little proud of myself because I did that – I was terrified the first times -, a little proud and very pleased.

Getting into the scene has been one of my best decisions for years. I have met some amazing people, learned a lot about myself, gotten new friends, gotten a bit into board games – which is great fun by the way – and found a wonderful woman I have a very good and fulfilling relationship with.

Life is good.

Wonderful Vulnerability

Before yesterday, I didn’t understand why having someone that was vulnerable towards me could be a good thing. Why should someone be vulnerable? What did I get out of it and what could she possibly get out of it? We could do everything we wanted without her being vulnerable – and wasn’t it better that way?

We really can do whatever we want, and whatever I want, without her being especially vulnerable, but yesterday’s session was … a bit magical.

The beginning wasn’t promising at all. I had a headache that was on its way from bad to worse and that kind of pain makes me unhappy and slow. On the other hand, I knew that it would be a while before I would have her with me again and I wanted some private time with her. Private time is not the same as playtime; we could just have cuddled and talked. It was my decision to do otherwise. I had one thing I wanted to use on her and another thing I wanted to try for the first time. Because of this, it was playtime.

In lack of a better description – the energy exchange began almost immediately. It was like turning on a switch. I was her dominant and she was mine to do as I pleased. I don’t think it has been like that for me, ever before. We could both feel it – a closeness, an intimacy, which has been with us in the past, but maybe not like this. No, not quite like this.

Between my orders and my giving her pain, there was hugging, petting, stroking and kissing. We were in our own little bubble, our own space, where only we existed. It was like floating. Floating on her expressions, her whimpers and moans, her softness and her kisses. We have had similar experiences, or I have at least felt almost like this before, but not quite this strongly. As I said, it was a bit magical. (I wonder if it was domspace I was in?)

At one point she said in a low voice that she liked being vulnerable to me. That she felt so safe with me that her vulnerability was something she wanted to give me. If I ever have gotten a bigger compliment from anyone, I can’t remember it. My breath caught in my throat, I could feel tears threatening and I leaned forward and hugged her. Hugged her hard while we both struggled to get our emotions under control.

I believe her vulnerability was a big part of making that session so special, so intimate. It wasn’t anything I thought about then and there, at least not before her quiet words. I simply noticed, on some level, her openness, her susceptibility, and I took what she offered me, and used it. Both of us where very satisfied with the outcome.

When I think back on yesterday’s session and on the playtime’s before I can see that I more than once have put her in slightly vulnerable situations and liked it. I just haven’t really thought through what I have liked about it and why.

Now I know; I like it when she is vulnerable towards me and I like it a lot. Vulnerability in my partner is wonderful.

Later that evening when we both had gotten home, I called her and we talked a bit more. One of the things that she mentioned was that during that session I was more in control than before, I was more confident in myself and what I wanted and what I wanted her to do, and not do.

Therefore, the question is this; did her vulnerability make me take more charge of the session, or did the fact that I was more confident with myself and with being in charge make her more vulnerable?

I really don’t know. I only know that it takes two to tango and that I truly like this dance of power exchange.

Fuck Toy

I don’t remember when I first began to think about the idea of a fuck toy. I don’t remember why or how the idea arrived in my head and my fantasies, nor do I particularly understand why it remained, why it became one of those fantasies that I wanted to explore. I just know that it did.

I do know that the notion had spun inside my head for a while before I acted on it.

I remember the first time I treated my girlfriend as my fuck toy and little else. Without explaining anything or telling her what to expect, I told her to undress while I stayed clothed. Already there it felt like something exciting and fun. To fuck her and almost pretend that I was detached from what I did to her and what she felt was sexy. To feel, hear and smell her reactions while she did exactly what I told her and simply accepted what I wanted to give … it was beyond sexy.

Afterwards I felt a bit like a cat that had found a perfect spot in the sun and was warm, relaxed and very satisfied with life and everything in it.

I knew I wanted to do it again, soon.

Later my girlfriend told me that I had taken her by surprise that day. (Which I liked a lot, of course.) She hadn’t believed that I was interested in doing something like that, maybe not even capable of liking it. She said that she hadn’t believed it of me when we began to get to know each other, at least. Then again, neither had I.

Now the term fuck toy is almost an endearment in my vocabulary and I like to remind her that she is mine.