Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Now all I need is a clothesline

So when I posted those stupid things I said over the weekend, what two weekends ago?

Completely aside, I remember desperately wanting to get older when I was a kid, and being pissed that time moved too slowly, and now that I'm older, holy shit, time moves WAY too fucking fast, okay?

Anyway, so I said those two things as, clearly, Jay was in the middle of beating my ass, which is what I have tended to use to refer to any and all BDSM-type activities. In this case, he did in fact beat my ass, but, you know, saying that he should beat me does not necessarily mean that I think he should find the nearest implement and whale away at my ass.

In this particular instance, Jay did in fact beat my ass for a while, but there were restraints involved as well. Now, being as I was restrained, I couldn't do much about the fact that Jay is a sadist. I may have covered that a few times here before, but just so that we're all on the same page, Jay is a sadist and frequently likes to remind me that he likes causing me pain. On this occasion, Jay decided to bring out the clothespins and experiment on my boobs.

Now, while Jay is a sadist (did I mention that he's a sadist? good) I am only kind of a masochist. I don't like pain, so much as I like discrete amounts of certain kinds of pain. Clips and clamps on my nipples are usually right out, if I have anything to say about it.

Guess what Jay loves to do? Well, he proceeded to do that, but not content with only using two clothespins from the bag full of them, he decided to put four more, making little compasses out of my boobs.

At this point I am deep-breathing, and in between deep-breathing, staring at him balefully. But I have to admit, it wasn't as bad as I was expecting it to be, said expectations being born out of past experience. I don't know whether it was because I got a very good warm-up, some wonky hormone deal, what, but... my boobs didn't hurt bad. Oh, they hurt, but I was almost kind of enjoying the hurt.

If you've ever read kaya's blog, you've probably seen the pictures of the boob flowers (and if you don't read her blog, you should pop over there). Jay decided to make boob flowers. He put all of the clothespins in the bag on my boobs, continuing those four single clothespins into four rows of clothespins. But there were only about twenty clothespins in that bag, and there were spaces between the clothespins in the rows.

It was at this point that I piped up with my helpful remark about having bought more clothespins. To this day, I am not quite sure what was possessing me at the time. Clearly, my rational mind was not in control at that point. Jay's face naturally lights up and he goes to get the new clothespins, and proceeds to put them on, for a total of 26 pins on each boob.

And I am enjoying myself. For reals, I am laid back and enjoying myself, because this feels kind of good. I was blatantly ignoring that they would have to come off at some point, and instead basking in the warm glow that can only come from being in pain. He twitched them with his fingers, and jiggled my boobs around a bit, and there were a few sharp intakes of breath on my part, but it was not bad pain.

Jay's kind of an asshole though, and he took them off. That sucked. I spent the entire time with my face screwed up tight and trying not to breathe. But still, this wasn't as painful as other times I have had clips and/or clamps applied to my boobs. I wouldn't say that I enjoyed this, but it wasn't that bad. Okay, well, the nipples were that bad, and I almost cried. However, I did not cry, which earned me a "I'm very proud of you; you are a good girl", which, if I had been standing up, I would have blushed, ducked my head, and scuffed my shoe, most of which did not work as I was lying back on the bed.

I don't know that I would ever personally volunteer for that treatment again (then again, it's not about me volunteering, is it?), because this really was a one-in-a-million, I think. Whatever alignment of stars or hormones or whatever happened that day, while I wouldn't mind it happening again, I don't know that I'm going to go out and test for it, you know? But... dammit, I liked it. Oh god, I liked it. And I had a pair of lovely boob flowers to go to sleep with.

new favorite thing

I am just going to sit over here, and laugh, okay? Thanks. .

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Where I have been the past week

Last Thursday, I flew home to go to my cousin's wedding. That was... interesting. Got home from that on Sunday.

Monday, went to work.

Tuesday, flew to the US headquarters for my company, for a meeting today. Just walked back in the door.

I have been home a grand total of about 48 hours in the past seven days. That is awesome.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Motherfuckshitting christ WHY is there a fucking SKUNK outside my WINDOW

Monday, June 11, 2007

gg french nm

Stupid shit I said this weekend:

1. "See? This is why you should beat me more often! Then I won't be as sensitive."
2. "You know, I bought more clothespins. They're over there on the top shelf."

Thursday, June 07, 2007

fuck it, i'm listening to muse

Jay was on a business trip this week, and is supposed to get home tonight. I've missed him, a lot. He doesn't live with me, so he's normally not here during the week anyway, but there's something different about him being a few towns over and not here and being in an entirely different state and not being here. It feels different, and I've slept for shit all week.

He was supposed to get in at the airport around 8 tonight, and was then going to come over. I kind of feel bad for whining and sniveling badly enough that he was going to come over after a day in airports and on planes, but not badly enough to tell him to just stay home and go straight to sleep.

Clearly, he is not getting in at 8 - instead, it's going to be closer to 11:30 tonight, which means that he wouldn't get here until 1 at the earliest, which is too late for him. So no Jay tonight, and I am sad. Life's just a little bit better when he's nearby - although, truly, it will at least be nice to have him in the same state again.

It doesn't really help the fact, though, that I have been beyond unsettled the past, oh, week or so. I'm having the devil of a time figuring it out, too. I shouldn't be too surprised though; this happens once in a while anyway. There's no reason for me to be upset or sad or anything, and I just am. Work is good, the house is good, life is good, and it's like I'm uncomfortable with success or something because I want to crawl out of my own skin.

I just want... something else, I suppose. And really, that's a neat explanation for why I desperately wanted to call Joseph last night; he's most certainly something else. A bad idea, to be sure, but feeling like this makes me want to do something dramatic and monumental. It's just that when I shoot for those things, it usually winds up being monumentally horrible. And doing, oh, just about anything with Joseph with perfectly fit that bill.

Tempting enough that at 2 in the morning I was still awake and thinking about doing it, though, which, yeah, that was really unspeakably awesome, okay? It's not like I've slept well all week, and then to be up past 2 in the am with strained effort to keep my hands still and under my head... well, I can think of more fun things.

The best part? I thought I had totally shaken him off, for good, finally. Oh, but no no no. He's ba-ack. Bastard. Clearly the lesson I'm supposed to learn here isn't nearly learned enough.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007


I really, really want to call Joseph right now. I don't even have anything to say. But I want to call him. And it would be a bad, bad plan.


Maybe this just makes me a dork, but I am entirely too gigglingly pleased at the fact that I am taking a business trip in two weeks.

Now, when I travel on my own, I am definitely a shoestring type of person. I find the cheapest way to get there, I rent a bike or walk or take public transport to get around, I stay in hostels, I cook my own meals... like, we are trying to avoid spending money, so that we can stay longer, you know? I spent a week in Canada, going to two cities, and spent less than $500. US.

Now, this work trip. I am flying to my company's headquarters the night before a meeting, going to a meeting all day, and flying back that night. I will be staying in an upscale hotel, I will have cars to pick me up from the airports and take me to the hotel and to my house and to the headquarters, my meals will be paid for, etc. I am a little shocked and awed at the amount of money that the company is spending to fly me there for a single day.


(blah blah blah, corporate excesses, blah blah blah.)

Also, I hope that this kind of travel never becomes so routine and ordinary that I start thinking it's my due, or something. I like being entertained by the fact that I'm staying in a $200/night hotel room with a king-size bed, and that it's 100% okay with my company. It kind of makes me feel like a six-year-old trying on Mom's clothes. Look at me! I'm a grown-up! (No, no I am most definitely not).

Sunday, June 03, 2007

On the nature of deals

I've been addicted to PostSecret for some time now; even bought a couple of the books. It's something between voyeurism and bonding with the rest of the human race.

There's a secret posted this week, and a reply - since they are only posted for one week, for posterity's sake, I'll record the text of both here, but if you see this before June 10th, I encourage you to head over to PostSecret and check them out:

Secret: I don't like BJ's. I hate how they assume all guys want one. Or even prefer them.

The text is pasted on an x-ray image of a girl with braces giving a guy a blowjob.

Email: Good to know, because I'm tired of giving them.

At first it was just the email that made me irritated and sad, and then once I sat and thought about it for a while, the postcard made me sad too.

The email got to me for a couple of reasons, mostly because the initial reading made the person come off as a selfish bint who was tired of doing something for someone else's pleasure. Yup, most guys I've met like blowjobs; Jay being one of them. But he likes them, and I KNOW that he likes them, so because of that, I like giving them to him (also, I would like giving them to him even if he didn't like them so much, because I <3 penis, but that's an entirely other story). Granted, I don't give him a blowjob every night or anything like that, but the Man's penis is in my mouth on a regular basis, okay? And there are times when I'm not particularly interested in giving a blowjob, but unless I have a serious objection, I will, for at least a little while, because I know it gives him a lot of pleasure. This was even before we decided that he got to be in charge. I just like doing nice things for people I happen to like, okay? It just really irritated me because there are people out there who are missing the entire point of sex. It becomes not about pleasures, but about duty. It becomes this negative thing to be avoided, and they are seriously missing out. Secondly, the email made me sad because I know there are guys out there who are just as selfish and demand blowjobs all the time. I am not talking about within a D/s context (and even then, I would say that demanding blowjobs all the time, while well within the rights of a Master, would be kind of assholish, but maybe that's just me), I am talking the guy who shoves a girl into his groin on every date, and doesn't do anything for her. Even for someone like me, who likes giving blowjobs, that would get real old, real quick. So I can understand being sick of giving blowjobs, and that is sad, that something sexual has become so not-pleasurable. The postcard makes me sad too because I think I would cry if I were with a partner who didn't take into account my preferences when it came to sex (okay, that's a lie; I'd dump they ass). And because there's a whole lot of young women out there who think that all guys want is blowjobs. And this person is either not communicating what they want, or when they do, their partner doesn't believe them because there have been a whole bunch of other guys who have persuaded her of the opposite (and she's not smart enough to realize that everyone is different and adjust for that). It's just... well, everyone is missing the point of the deal. You're both supposed to get pleasure. Not just one person. And it's supposed to be reciprocal and mutual. You should take into account what the other person likes, what you like, and compromise if necessary. And it's supposed to be enjoyable, goddammit, not some onerous chore that you have to get through so that you can get other benefits from the relationship.

Even BDSM. Nobody does that because they don't like it, I think. And there are certainly things that aren't fun, per se, and perhaps even a bit of a chore. But, it's negotiated, and I'd argue that everyone involved gets pleasure out of it.

People are just really fucked up when it comes to sex sometimes (and hey, even I have some of my own hang-ups), and it really gets to me.