i miss...

In between all the other stuff that needs doing, i surf the web (now that we have it again!). Mostly i bounce around FetLife and kinky blogs, and this week has been interesting to watch the shifts.

When Master and i started out, we couldn't attend the various Fet/BDSM clubs. But the minute we could, we were right there. Our first event/play party was actually in October of 2000. Ten years ago. And it was awesome. Bigger spaces, more three-dimensional play, people to interact with, compare notes with, become friends with. Our kinky interactions were pretty important to us, and we made some serious efforts to get to as many as we could.

And then, i got the brilliant idea to take a job far, far away from those kinky interactions that were so much a part of our lives. On one hand, we did things then that we never would have had the opportunity to do if we had stayed near the kinky stuff. We wouldn't have made the awesome friends that we did.

But today, i realize how much i miss going to kinky events where i didn't have to hide in the shell of "normal," i miss people remarking on the chemistry and dynamic that Master and i have. i miss seeing braver subs/slaves than i, watching those uber intense scenes between other people. i miss the diversity of the kinky community we were once a part of. i miss having kinky friends who understood.

This house we're in now. It's still awesome. But it is still very, very far away from any sort of public scene. It is very far away from lots of like minded folks.

And reading all the talk about stuff like Kinky Camping (not quite my type of scene, btw., i don't think i like camping anymore), or Kinky College, or finding out what is going on any particular week for a kinky club, makes me miss what Master and i had in the early days.

Confinement

Ah, a moment to breathe.

And i mean that in a very literal sense -- Master loves his breath play. And if it's His hands, i love it too.

There's been lots of talk about confinement, caging and shelving out and about on the kinky web this week. At least it seems like it. And i always wonder what it might be like somewhat longer term. Master and i have a cage, which we purchased from Petsmart for, as Master told the cashier, a very large, bad dog. i've slept in it over night a time or two, spent several hours of my day in it...

But i think eight hours is pretty much where my time in it has been topped out. And on one hand, i am relieved. Being caged for more than a few hours definitely kinks up my muscles, causing me to feel like i am still caged even after Master has let me out. On the other, how much more agonizing might it be if it was ten hours? How about 12? Or 24? Or (gods help me) 72? How could i "disappear" for that long?

Unfortunately, neither Master or i have the time to do that. And we're extremely possessive of each other, of the rare moments where we can exist without the pressures of our lives, the moments where Master and slave are just that, not Master/daddy/writer/son/brother/worker and slave/mommy/daughter/sister/student... So justifying time where i've been "put away" when i could be doing any other slavish thing under the sun is not easy for us.

But the idea is hot. Like, "hawt" hot.

Sleeplessness....

This is going to likely be a quickie. Hmmmmmmm quickie, but I digress. The night before last, as I mentioned in my last post, we had an opportunity to get some punishments out of the way. Thirteen swats with the leather paddle while the girl was bound, wrist to elbow behind her back. Now, for those of you who didn't know, jenpet has some joint problems so it is a big deal when her shoulders are well enough to be restrained thus.

Taking full advantage of the situation, I flopped her over immediately following the final swat and eagerly availed myself of her wide open, dipping love tunnel. Poetic, no? Anyway, the sex was delicious as I used the evil little plastic spoon to spot her tits with red, angry little marks. Grinding her nipple flesh between my fingers, spurring her to grind her pelvis down on my, ah hem, tunnel invader.

As I said, delicious. Finally I finished up by flipping her back over and ramming her doggy style before covering her back in a long, sticky line of cum from her shoulder down to the crack of her lovely, quivering ass.

But I'm not here to dwell on that at the moment. The little one that provided us such a lovely time together, spanning nearly three and a half to four hours, awoke from his apparent nap wide awake and ready for a full day of hair pulling excitement and adventure. Now he had fallen asleep around eight in the evening and my hopes that he might sleep through the night were dashed promptly at midnight when he awoke. No big deal, I told myself sending my slave off to bed for her early morning classes the next day, a couple of hours and we'll both settle down for a good night's sleep.

How do I manage to lie to myself so convincingly so regularly? By four thirty in the morning, passed my bedtime working nights as I do, I could take no more and dealt with the inevitable fit as I shut down the house and took him to his room to watch a movie so he would sleep. Sadly, the only one falling asleep was me, right up until he climbed up on the tall edge of the futon mattress and jumped onto my kidney. It is really hard to keep one's self from turning someone who just sucker jumped your kidney into a projectile rocketing across the room into a wall or something.

Thus awake, I retreated to my bed, staring at the five o'clock displayed on the alarm clock next to the bed with bleary, rage filled eyes. The slave stirred, and I explained my situation. Given that she had to be up in half an hour anyway, it was her turn. she gladly, yet groggily accepted.

It gets better. I managed to pass out, chasing the sleep I had been denied with single minded determination. That is right up to seven o'clock in the morning when the slave returned to the bedroom, screaming child in tow. she tossed him into the bed with me, explaining that she had to leave or miss her ride, a situation I cannot blame her for in the least. Two hours under my belt and I was back in charge of a screaming bundle of joy. For joy.

Back down stairs and another hour or so of a movie, he finally passed out. A peaceful, cute ball of sleeping child. Little shit. I, myself, managed another two to three hours before having to get up for another fun day. Sleeplessness, I's has it...

Little Glass Marbles...

If we could live in the fantasy that fills our hearts and minds, then jenpet would live in a perpetual state of metal restraints and chains, kept in a concrete cell or iron cage until needed to serve any of the infinite desires of my heart.
The realities of life however allow for very little. Even the most basic and practical of matters must, by necessity, be simplified to the utmost.

In our fantasy life, punishments would be a serious matter, punctuated by time for the naughty slave to contemplate the seriousness of her situation, preferably chained by a short length to the wall sharing quality time with the intimate implement of her coming punishment just out of reach yet imposing. The bondage, slow and methodical, each strap inescapably sealing her fate. The infractions laid out, each counted and addressed, her knowing full well the why of her correction. Then the punishment itself, harsh, measured, each strike counted by the girl with tearful sobs. There would be an aftermath, jenpet on her knees, kissing the implement and my feet in gratitude for the TLC (tender loving caning) and the chance to be corrected to become better. Then swept up into my arms to be held and reassured that she is a good girl and that all is forgiven. Ah fantasy, my dear friend and frequently absent companion.

The reality of our punishments are far less impressive. Quick swats taken in stolen moments of the child's naps, a frantic attempt to maintain some semblance of correction for forgotten infractions.
Nothing like telling the slave, "now, you've been a naughty girl."
"What have i done, Master?"
"Oh... you know... that thing the other day... Yeah that." SWAT!

Yet, we find a way. A simple method for marking infractions to be dealt with later? A glass cup filled with glass marbles, one marble for each infraction. Tonight, we had the opportunity to catch up on some of these marbles. With the little one down, we rushed upstairs, quickly bound the girl up, and got a start. Oh there was tearful counting and the loud slap of the paddle. Thirteen strikes to bring the girl back in line and empty the cup.

We do what we can and though its not easy, if it were would it be worth doing?

Teh Ebils ov teh Intarwebz

Warning: This is a girlie rant.

Not having internet for so long was an interesting experience. And having internet again is just as interesting. i forgot how persnickity the online community can be, i forgot how much people can get wrapped up in their own rules and rituals and when people who are unfamiliar with them might miss one little thing, they come unglued.

Where's the community in that?

Where's the line between "I want to meet new people" and "you're a fucktard for sending me a message?" Why are those two statements so often intertwined?

Why can't we treat each other with some amount of courtesy?

i don't approve random friend requests on any social networking sites. Master and i talk about who i'm going to add and why they want to be added. If people don't send me a message about who they are and why they're interested in being friends, generally, i don't add them as friends -- but that doesn't mean that i don't spend some time engaging in conversation with them. If they send me a polite message, i generally make an effort to be polite in exchange for their politeness.

When did it start to matter what public community we were involved in?

When did that become a sign of knowledge?

When did that become a symbol of "honor?"

How can honor be questioned at all when you don't know someone from Adam?

Do people think that ten years is nothing?

Do they think that i would blindly choose someone without honor to be my Owner?

i don't know -- it all seems so arbitrary. We ask people to accept us as we are, let us be who we are, with the interests we all have, but we automatically attack someone for not doing things our way, the "right" way.

Ethnocentrism at its finest.

girlie rant over....

We're Back!

Well, we've made it back onto the wide world of the internet. Woot! What a hiatus... And what a time to be back on. Work schedules and school schedules and life with a two going on thirty year old.Its a wonder we get any sex at all.

Some really nice things have happened recently though. We just celebrated our tenth year anniversary, a mile stone to be sure. We've settled quite nicely into our new place. It feels just like an old home, very nice. It is truly nice not to have people on all sides of us any more. We have this nice big yard, truly lovely. The only real down sides to it are that is wide open, so no out door fun just yet, and the freakin' bugs. We have been battling an infestation of mosquitoes, flies, and now yellow jackets. Not to mention the million or so spiders we have running around. Crazy!

Some things to look forward to, though. We have a nice big bath tub that we have yet to break in, wink wink. There is a ton of lumber in the back yard and I have laid out plans for a customizable, adaptable bondage chair that I might one day have the time to put together. I have finally finished both sets of the stocks, very nice. There are a number of photo sets that I have in mind, some of my lovely slave in the previously mentioned stocks, one with her cow girl hat, etc.

At some point I would love to section of a part of our yard from view and do some outdoor play. I can already see my girl cowering at the very thought.

Despite all the changes, things have kind of gotten back to normal. That being very little time for ourselves and a great many distractions to overcome. I've taken to writing at least semi regularly again and am approaching a complete work, something that always seems to elude me. Hard to finish anything if you're always rushing off to the next big idea.

jenpet is hard at work, taking up the slack for her project partners and maintaining an impressive homework load. And our little boy continues to be... well a little boy. If he's not destroying something valuable or rotting his brain on video games, and by extension my brain as he forcibly hands the controller off every fifteen minuets because he's "tuck", then it must be one of the rare fifteen minutes that he's asleep and we're off making the most of it until we hear crying, that's not jenpet's at any rate.

So dear friends of the kinky web, we are back and looking forward to sharing with all of you those precious moments and life lessons. Until next time, naughty wishes to you all...