Captivated

*Mature Content

“Don’t move,” he said, backing slowly away while pulling the camera up to his face, one rugged hand gripping the curve of the case and the other wrapped around the large lens. His thumb and middle finger delicately and  deliberately squeezed and turned, slightly this way and that.

She could hear the friction of his knees against the sheet as he scooted back and forth, positioning himself for each shot, his breath quickening with each movement.

Preventing the usual, “Yes, Sir,” in reply, the ball gag rested snugly between her teeth, wrapping around to clasp tightly on the back of her neck at her hairline. She didn’t even nod in response. She was still. Captivated. Mesmerized by him. All she wanted to do was keep watching him, watching her. Her eyes replied for her.

With a few words or the grip of his hands, he lead her to where he wanted her, and she followed. She moved when he moved her. She shifted with his words. She did anything he wanted.

Every click of the shutter sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel his energy building, an electricity growing. Every so often, she’d catch a glimpse of his eyes and the bulge in the front of his jeans. His hunger was palpable; it emanated from him in waves, making her insides hum and forming goosebumps on the surface of her skin.

Without notice, the world around them melted away. It was only his lens pointing at her, and her looking back. There was no peripheral, no background, no noise in her head. There was no sound, other than his movement and his breathing and his words. Nothing else.

Except for the click, click of his shutter.

-older post reworked a bit and shared as part of Masturbation Monday.


-photo is mine

Jumping In (Our Way)

*MATURE CONTENT 

Several weeks ago, M and I went to our first play party. We had no idea what to expect, aside from the community organization’s description and pics of the space that were offered online. We didn’t know anyone in the community yet; we’d only attended one rope group and nothing else. 

And there’s a lot to consider in deciding to go! How it could potentially impact our lives if we are outed, the exposure and vulnerability in being naked (me) and playing in front of others (us), the trying to make friends, what we expect to get out of it, developing rules and expectations between the two of us beforehand, and so much more. I think one of the biggest things is being unsure about what part of fantasy is meant to become reality and what should remain fantasy. 

We talked so much in the months before going, wrapping our heads around it all. One doesn’t know for certain which is to remain fantasy and what may become reality until one gets out there and begins to experiment…

So we jumped in.

The first play party was overwhelming, in both good and not so good ways. It’s impossible not to have expectations and visions of what it might be like – how it will look and feel, both the physical space as well as the atmosphere, in the group setting, as a couple, and as individuals. We did some reading online, and openly discussed ours beforehand, which was very helpful. 

No matter what sort of talking we did, there  were still a bazillion things to see and hear and take in at once. Above all, right away, it was the most freeing thing to walk into a room with people who are so open and accepting, who celebrate free sexual expression. The apparatus was fantastic as well; there were many stations and endless possibilities. We walked around, looked, and touched it all. We watched others play. It was exciting – an emotional and sensory playground in so many ways. And the single biggest thing I noticed right away is that no one there was body conscious. No one I saw! It was wonderful. The acceptance and freedom was unbelievable.

Other things weren’t so great feeling. The loud techno music was wearing on me after a while. There was also this feeling – a feeling that many interactions were missing a connected, erotic charge. I mean, they were having fun, but it seemed sort of coldish or disconnected in many instances. It also wasn’t very social, in that we didn’t talk to many people. And I hadn’t needed all that lingerie I bought, because most wore street clothes and just took them off to play (bottoms). 

We did not play this time. We watched and talked, and talked and watched. We took it all in.

It took a while to process it all together, and it was pretty overwhelming that night. We were both overflowing with input and measuring what we saw and felt against what we’d expected, as well as how the atmosphere and experiences could possibly meet our needs and desires.

After a lot of talking, we knew we wanted to go again. We knew some of the things we didn’t love or had perceived the way we did had to do with our own expectations and notions, and by filtering it all through our own narrow filters. We saw acceptance in ourselves. We saw possibility, in many forms. 

A couple weeks later we went again. The second time was much different; we knew better what to expect, and having processed the input as well as possible, we could process more in the moment. Some of the off things that we felt the first time, we didn’t as much the second time, and that probably had to do with not being so inundated with new feelings and information all at once, every single second!

There was a warmer atmosphere, but there were also fewer people, which was nice. The interactions didn’t feel so cold in many instances, and that was partly because we adjusted our perceptions. There will always be some people who are there to play who seek connections in much different ways than what we have or want. There are people into all sorts of things, free to experiment and live out their desires. That is the beauty of being in an accepting environment, having the freedom to do just that! I even wore something on top that was revealing by my standards and felt (mostly) comfortable! 

After being there for a while, talking to a couple people, and watching some play, M decided we’d play. He chose a spanking bench, which was a beautifully crafted and comfortable piece of wooden furniture with pads.

M was pleasantly surprised at how easily I stripped off my clothes and was ready for him as he unpacked his bag. He buckled on my collar, told me he loved me and asked if I was ready. Although I was a bit nervous, I was ready. Very much so.

It was intense and surreal. Tiring and exhilarating.

Although I didn’t register it fully in the moment, a small cluster of people gathered near our bench to talk and watch. We played hard and connected like we always do. The change of venue didn’t inhibit that at all. 

It was unbelievable. 

Our community has a party every month, and we are going again next weekend. He intends to play again. Woot woot! 

It’s so freaking exciting to be traveling this journey with M! We don’t know exactly where we are heading, but that’s half the fun. We are enjoying the ride!

-image found via google images, free getty images

 
 

Out to Sea (haiku)


Time weathers tired soul
When one has long been beach bound,
Free thyself to sea

-Image via Pinterest
-Shared in response to Ronovan Writes’ Weekly Haiku Challenge, Beach and Time. Out to Sea is written in English form. Curious about haiku in English form? Ronovan gives an excellent explanation.

(Edited)

Taking Flight


With precision, wings extend
Laser focus, to the end

Fluttering, she lifts in flight
In twists and turns, with all her might

Freedom in routine, led down a beam
Of her own light, following her dream

Head over feet, through the air
Smile upon her face, completely unaware

As loving hearts with pride look on
In their eyes, she’s already won 

-photo is mine, and this is dedicated to my youngest daughter

Talks to Angels

  

Although she wishes it were not true,

bedtime rarely means sleeping.

Her pillowcase is often damp

with silent tears, solemn weeping.
 

Whispering to Angels high,

in the quiet light of the moon,

she desperately seeks forgiveness,

morning coming far too soon.
 

But, this morning, when she wakes,

ahh, hope has blossomed and bloomed!

So, tonight, just maybe, sleep will come,

no more penance, soul attuned.
 

~another art piece by my daughter

Not Today

for as long as she could remember, she’d felt it, even though she wasn’t superstitious,
she couldn’t deny it, 
this unwelcome, 
yet eerily comforting presence,
signs of its existence
ever-present,
but no more so than in vulnerable situations,
especially when her feelings
were so big she thought
she’d crack 

sometimes, it consumed her,
when she most wanted to hide; she’d feel it in the pulsing pressure of unfallen tears behind her eyes,
in the ball of rubber bands tangled and bouncing in her belly,
in the twisted tightening behind her ribcage, the anvil resting on her heart,
in the shallow breathe, because anything deeper would make her burst, collapsing her into herself

it was most present,
and most potent, 
as this toxic voice inside her head,
one which constantly told her
she didn’t belong,
that she wasn’t enough,
that she owed something she could never quite repay,
was expected something she could never live up to,
that the world must be railing against her,
this voice loudest when the world seemed to quiet around her, 
when she desperately attempted to slow,
to try and savor it, 
her pillow’s other side never cool,
and her mind never quite at rest 

it was a blurred existence, 
a constant feeling of living in a black mist,
one she couldn’t shake no matter what she tried, no matter how much she laughed and smiled and pleased on the outside

she’d tried to hide from it by pretending it wasn’t there, 
by speeding through her days at 100mph, trying not to blink,
and yet, here it was, still,
a backpack of lead upon her back, 
making her feel as if she were living in a spiral, 
every action destined to repeat itself

it took 40 years of this sinister ghost chasing her,
40 years of futile running,
years upon years of spiral and repeat, 
until she finally slowed, 
until she looked with unclouded eyes,
startled when she saw her own reflection

all that time, she’d been haunted by herself,
the weight of regret, 
a relentless stream of
self-deprecation,
and even punishment,
obscuring every decision,
every interaction,
every day

afraid she’d become the epitome of everything she’d cursed, 
she’d become just that in the running,
the illusion of control causing her to fall further and further out of its grasp,
making her want to scream until there was no voice left to hear, 
her fear of vulnerability so strong,
it had begun to shroud the hope in her eyes

but not today

Your Wings…

For fifteen years,
You gave your all
Refused to quit,
Refused to fall

You used your voice,
Created opportunity
Helped so many,
And built community

Authentic and honest,
They counted on you
To weather the storms,
To lead them through

Friends were made,
You touched their hearts
Leaving a piece behind,
When you part

Now, into your box,
Go more than things
They are promises you made,
The ideas with wings

That’ll carry you on,
To this new endeavor 
I’ll be the wind beneath them, 
We’ll fly on forever

Today is M’s last day at a place he’s been for 15 years. He’s gonna kick ass at the new one!

Merging

There was once a girl inside this chamber
Nestled in my heart,
It’s where she safely laughed and played,
So we were never far apart.

A very long time ago,
She skipped and giggled free,
Until the scary darkness came,
Causing her to flee.

The darkness began to multiply,
And she’d hide more each day.
Before too long she stayed inside,
And never came out to play.

I locked tight the chamber door,
To save her innocence.
In hopes one day there’d be a safe place,
In which we could sing and dance.

For years she frolicked all alone,
Nestled safely in my core.
Waiting to trust the sunshine,
So she could play freely once more.

Then one day I looked around,
And realized the sun had been SHINING.
I’d missed it while guarding the chamber door;
I couldn’t see the silver lining.

Now she roams, unrestrained,
Her smile upon my face.
Another set of eyes to see,
On this journey I embrace.

Shakin’ My Ass

Dancing has always made me self conscious. I was never terrible at it, but I loathed the thought of drawing attention to myself; I just wanted to blend in, to not be noticed. Even with M, I was self conscious, and even more so when I gained weight. Other than slow dancing, I think we’ve only danced together maybe two or three times in 22 years.

But there’s this song I just heard for the first time a few weeks ago.

One night recently, it was on our playlist during some intimate time. After some whip and cane impact, M covered me with his body as I lay on my belly. He was propped up on his arms, pinning my hair to the bed with his forearms, making it almost impossible for me to move, but when this song came on (and I rarely hear the music), it gripped me! The sultry tune draws me in every time.

I moved my hips and whispered the words to his lips next to mine. I’m not even sure how I know the words, they must have stuck from the first time I heard it.

It’s been stuck in my head for days at a time and even visited my dreams, it seems, because I’ve woken up singing it. And last week, I played that same playlist while I was in the kitchen making soup, and I just felt it. I closed my eyes and moved my hips, I swayed and I moved…and all I could think about is how fucking sexy he makes me feel, how deep in my bones and throughout whole my soul this love is. I moved, and got goosebumps. It gripped me again, this song.

When I hear it, I imagine our two bodies moving slowly to its tempo, two as one warm, flowing fluid, permeating and intoxicating, just like the liquor about which they sing. I feel the heat between us, I see the passion in his eyes. I see white-knuckled fingers, trails of wetness, and teeth sinking in.

And I move my body, effortlessly. For whatever reason, this song has helped me to further break the self-conscious barrier and truly remind me of the confidence which M helps to instill in me, confidence in myself and confidence in us.

That day I danced in the kitchen, I captured it on video for M. Nothing special, just me moving as I do when I hear this song, thinking of him, being me. Then I sent it to him at work.

My M praises me all the time. He thanks me, tells me I’m sexy and beautiful, and makes sure I know he appreciates the things I do. And over the last few years, I’ve begun to truly internalize those things. It’s not that I never felt I had worth, but his support and honest expressions of truth have helped me to see with more clarity and BELIEVE him. To better see my value, to feel my worth, and to see myself through his eyes.

I’ve gone from being so self conscious that I often wished I was invisible, (despite my outer hard shell), to feeling happy to be seen…as me. Even in the bedroom, I’m less inclined to have my attention pulled away with concern about how I must look in this position or that. I’ve enthusiastically participated in him taking photos of me and willingly (and even deviously) sent him photos.

And then, I danced for him and sent him that video. He was so pleased, but not just because he thought my body looked sexy – he was truly pleased with my confidence. My confidence IS SEXY! I see it in his eyes, and I know how much it pleases him.

So, tonight for his birthday, I’m gonna play that song and shake my ass for him in person. I’m gonna show him just how he makes me feel.

Confident. Sexy. HIS.