Picture You

 Do you picture me like I picture you?

Am I in the frame from your point of view?

Do you feel the same? I'm too scared to say

Half of the things I do when I picture you

So tell me now (tell me now)

All your perversions

Am I doing research in a mini skirt

At the library in your hometown?

https://youtu.be/EqUHnojFH5Y?t=2

All of my blogs are titled with Chappell Roan songs lately, because of... reasons.   The slow, leisurely, seductive pace of this song perfectly fits my mood today.  

I had a hard time getting out of bed and getting going this morning. I have been pushing myself to do too many things lately.  The gym. Marches. Community organization meetings.  Work. Driving to Eau Claire in a snowstorm. 

 I made it to Sad Friends Happy Hour group a little bit late, looking "out of it" and feeling worse.

   

Then I had lunch with Dr. Peter.  He asked me if I wanted to eat first or play and I said either way was fine.  He said he'd very much looked forward to beating me.  And in fact a new implement had just arrived in the mail minutes before I got there, a beautiful dark leather custom made paddle from a craftsman in the UK.   It turned out to be like a shot of liquor- stiff and warming.  

All the other implements were laid out just waiting for me and I began to be excited as I threw off my clothes (so modest- not really!).  I knelt on the couch.   I very much liked the leather paddle.  It felt different than the older tan one which is softer, thinner and more flexible.   After I was good and warmed up with both leather paddles he switched to canes, laying down some marks on my upper thighs which are still visible.  He went lighter and harder with various implements in a pleasing sine curve of sensations.  Heavy flogger, light flogger, light caning, heavy caning with the Australian school cane, the stingy cat o nine tails and the even more stingy single tail whip.   

Afterward we laid down for a long time, just relaxing. I gave him a massage.  I was feeling very lazy and sleepy and pleasant. 

Lunch was absolutely delicious:  Sambar, dosas (like a pancake, sorta), Kerala mix (crunchy-spicy) and coconut chutney and vegetable dal curry (I think it had a name but I forget).   And of course spiced tea with milk.    

All the way home and through a quick trip to the store I was floating in a cloud of pleasant feelings.   All the good brain chemicals were mine to enjoy.  And I still have some stripes to look at in the mirror.  Now it's time to have another cup of something warm and lie under a blanket.  Perhaps a nap.

Red Wine Supernova

Another song has been been bringing back memories for me.  This is a post from 2013, slightly re-written because I couldn't help it.   

https://youtu.be/WOg93THAyE0?t=13   I recommend putting this song on before reading further.  

 "You should let her bite you"  Mystique declared, as she opened the hotel room door for her friend, Ms. J.  

Master nodded at me.  I sat on the bed and this beautiful woman, a stranger with long, dark wavy hair, pulled a chair up close to me.  All I could see were her eyes as she drew me in.  My heart beat faster and my eyes widened as she stroked my hair.   

We were balanced in a moment of excitement and strange tranquility. 

Her hand found the back of my head.   With practiced grace she tightened her hand in my hair.  My breath caught as she pulled my head firmly to the side to expose the side of my neck.  I was inflamed by desire.   She leaned in, her eyelids lowering, and took hold of the top of my shoulder with her teeth.  She bit down hard and just as I began to wince her hand tightened and gave a slight shake hand holding the hair at the nape of my neck, refocusing my attention and taking away some of the pain.

Mystique told her I would come on command to the name of a state. 

 Ms. J began naming states seductively in my ear.  "Wyoming.  Utah.  Alaska".   Imagine a breathy phone sex voice, full of temptation, promise.

I gave her a hint, not quite daring to give it away, but wanting to hear it.

 "It is one close to us.  In the Midwest". 

"Ohio.  Indiana.  Minnesota"..................

Then, as if she had known the right one all along, her voice grew stronger, commanding, but still a whisper in my ear: 

"Iowa." 

 I bucked and rocked in ecstasy; her hand was still in my hair.  Then she repeated the whole thing on the other side, leaving two matching bitemarks on me.  

When I had recovered my senses I smiled and introduced myself to her. 

Some women know how to make a first impression.  

The Pink Pony Club

 In the past day I have become obsessed with this song:  https://youtu.be/GR3Liudev18

I can't stop listening to it, and when I do have to stop listening to it, because I'm walking into work, it floats around in my head, I'm gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club.

When something drills in that hard and fast it's trying to unearth some things.  At least that is what I suspect.  Right in the middle of the song, on my 51st (or so) listen, I started crying.  All the memories of the leather bars at Tryst had been flooding back while watching the video.   It was exactly like that, although we were in the woods of Wisconsin or Michigan, not West Hollywood.  They did a good job of creating the atmosphere.  I had to go back and read some of my blog entries of those times and soak in them.   I will link them here, because they were somewhat hard to find.   

Nipple Torture Scene at a Leather Bar  2016

Dirty, Dirty Girl  2016

There are only certain memories I dare to revisit right now.  You probably won't notice First Choice Cunt in there, and that's for a reason.  My heart is tender and I'm not ready to go there. 

This one was only the final third of a really long post, so I'm just going to copy the whole thing in here:  

2015 Leather Bar

We almost didn't go.  I was tired, uncomfortable, whiny and getting on Master's nerves; he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with cigar smoke.   We sucked it up and went. 

Missing it would have been a huge mistake.

The leather bar was huge this year, made of canvas and lights and pvc, but transformed into a hot and sexy magical space.  Also, we were visited there by the Scotch fairy.  I bet you didn't know there was a Scotch fairy.   She's a fairy... that brings you Scotch.  So, Yay! 

We met PK there, and did a quick negotiation for a scene that we'd be talking about in vague terms since before Tryst. Master told me I should speak for myself this time.   I thought right then and there would be the perfect time and place to do it.  He threw me to the ground, in the gravel and dirt outside the leather bar, surrounded by crowds of people, and began slapping and hurting me.  It was intense, and hot, and violent.  Then he began pinching and twisting my breasts.  It hurt so bad I tried to push his hands off, which didn't work at all.  I was on the ground, and he was over me.  A wave of primal fear and anger swept over me, caused by the pain.  I had the impulse to hurt him back, to do anything to try to escape from that pain. It was in my awareness that my fingernails are almost 1/4 inch long and tough enough to be used as screwdrivers in a pinch.  I could just dig them in...then it flashed into my mind just as quickly that this would be a stupid thing to do.  This is what your safeword is for, dummy.  I said RED as clearly as I could, and he stopped.  Master also heard me in the midst of the crowd noises and came to see what was wrong.  I could not explain what was wrong, so I just lay on the ground trying to catch my breath.  I wasn't sure I could continue, but I also wasn't sure I wanted to stop, so I just waited.

Eventually they helped me up and we talked again.  The boob torture placed off limits for now, we started up again.  I loved the face slapping, and other places slapping, and being thrown all about.  And having my butt punched as I bent over a chair.   Then there were big hugs all around and I went off  feeling a certain smiley glow.  

 We entered the leather bar proper.  And the backroom, where there was a big sign saying "Entrance here means consent".   

Master and I did stuff together.  Naughty backroom stuff. It was fun.

I was wearing my thigh high boots, and was at the bootblack station in time to witness an incredibly powerful moving occurrence there.   I waited in line, as WM had invited me to have my boots done, and they are new but they had gotten a little scuffed and dirty when I was thrown around in the gravel.  It was really wonderful, comparable to a leg massage, and she is so damn sexy all the time anyway.  But then her owner/master/husband (Travis) told her to put the conditioner on with her tongue.  The conditioner is non-toxic, mainly beeswax (as I learned in class earlier).  She started licking it on and it was even more amazing, sensual, almost sexual.  Which was not something I would have ever imagined feeling.  Anyway, I need Master to get some leather boots now so I can learn this. 

After that, we stopped by the sex swing for some fucking, then back to the tent for more fucking.  

And that's the end.  I didn't bring in the field trip to the Mr. Leather contest, or any of the other wild things.  

But when I was going through the Tryst entries I found 

The Hunger Games

It's hard now looking back on it, to believe that was something we did, something they pulled off and everyone had a great (or painfully bad, as the case may be) time.  If you've read the Hunger Games, just imagine trying to organize it in real life with a bunch of BDSM lovers, and of course nobody gets killed.  

Made a new friend

 This friend has nine tails and is a cat that doesn't meow:   

I visited Dr. Peter's for lunch and this surprise was waiting for me.  Before any eating, first comes the beating.   We have decided to make it more of a regular event instead of just occasionally, so we have been getting together every month.   I didn't write a blog last time, but then people were asking and I need to please, evidently.  

We got straight into the fun, with me stripping off everything but my socks (I like to have warm feet, you know) and kneeling on the couch facing the wall.  We had a little chat during the warm up of my back, about the implements and about various friends and how they are doing.  Maybe not traditional, but whatever works.  The Smoked Dragon Cane has a name full of mystique, and now I can't remember what it looks like, but I imagine it looks like a dark swirly marble, only wooden.   I had my back to it and also my glasses off and mostly my eyes closed.  But for the Australian school cane, Dr. Peter had me turn around and look at it after a few strikes.  It's a massive thick thing, with a beautiful braided leather handle.  It feels... like a thick heavy cane.  How do you describe the feeling to someone who hasn't experienced it?  The Smoked Dragon is lighter and a bit stingy.  A bit of fire.  The Australian Cane hits you like the weight of a demanding teacher's expectation.   

He also brought the Cat O Nine Tails (we counted to make sure) around for me to admire and I already started falling for it, before feeling it, if one can fall for an implement of pain.  I love leather, I love whips and I loved the craftsmanship that was stamped all over this one. 

He started out whipping me with it lightly, getting me used to the feel, and I was really enjoying falling into the trance of the rhythm, but I kind of wanted it harder, and I was about to say "You can go harder" when he really started to ramp it up and then I was past trance level and getting into euphoria territory.   Come on baby, make it hurt so good, my theme song of the day.   When I started to shift and move and yelp he had me turn around, seated on the couch and he used a much softer implement, a flogger, on my front side.   

Then he asked me to use the toy I brought (glass dildo, many ribs) on myself.  I started out doing well, but after a while I was feeling not as pleasurable.  I just couldn't do myself by myself.   So he helped me get there. And there again.  And a bunch of multiple there's all run together. 

It was quite the afternoon!    Maybe February is the Month of Joy after all.