26 February 2009

A nice night's work

Jack's girl, post some of Tenderdom's BDSM waxplay candles:

Copper anklet HNT

Another beautiful piece of chainmaille jewelry out of my mom and sister's household. This one was actually made by my mom :)
As always, their store is here.

25 February 2009


His body pressed beneath mine, spread beneath me like a banquet. His beautiful, v-shaped back, its muscles rippling as he writhes in need. His arms, corded with muscle as he clenches his fists in pleasure and pain while my teeth dig into his flesh and his face tightens in pain even as he thrusts his ass back up against me, asking, wanting, needing. 
Gods! He is so beautiful now, like this, open to me with every line of his body. Offering to me everything that he is. His soul is in his eyes in this moment, and I am overwhelmed with tenderness and the need to protect him for the entire world... even as a deep, primitive part of me wants to sink my teeth into his neck and crush the spine with teeth I have never had. 

My body is wrapped around his, tight and hot and hard and sweaty as my hips pump into him and his arch to receive me. My hands are wrapped around his wrists, holding him in place with the force of my will far more than the strength of my body, and my legs are wrapped tightly around his, binding his body with mine as my beautiful cock slides into him so easily. He is making those little noises that I love, moaning and whimpering with every thrust, occasionally wincing when I press too deep but it only spurs me further. I want  to hurt him with my cock, want to fuck him until he is sore and begging me to stop. 
Part of me wants to make him pay for every poor lover I've ever had, every man who's forced his way into my woman's body and hurt it. Every man who's believed that my pain is his right, my cooperation in in his harm of me is a given. 
I want to make him pay for all of those men, want to fuck him as they fucked me- hard, fast, dry, not caring that he writhes in pain more than pleasure, not caring that his whimpers are those of hurt. I want to fuck him and not care that he is sore, hurting, that he will be for days. I want to fuck him like too many men fucked me. 

And yet as I see the lines of his body offering himself to me, his beautiful eyes wide with the giving over of himself to me, I know that this man will accept that pain if I give it to him, will pay penance for everyone who's ever hurt me, and will thank me for the opportunity to do it. This man will never be one of those, and it it makes me love him even more than I already did. 
So I slow my movements, changing my angle just a little to ensure him greater pleasure, and I smile as I watch his face tighten in something like joy, something like agony, as the sensation builds until he is clenching his hands so tightly around mine, whispering over and over, "Yes!"
And something that was broken in me begins to heal.

21 February 2009

Genderfluid loving

I want him here, in front of me. I want to heal the hurt in his eyes, and almost more than that I want him bent over my bed. 
I want him so deeply that it's a low ache in the pit of my stomach. 

I can see him now, in a long pencil skirt which emphasizes his beautiful legs, a cowl-necked blouse softening the width of his shoulders and emphasizing his tiny waist. I can see him in shiny, patent heels, walking toward me with an uncertain look in his eyes. 
His woman-self has been hurt, decried, and it complicates my craving for her. 
The hurt that she was caused, that I was a part of, complicates the image I have of her in my mind's eye- the soft swell of breasts and sweet little ass, the long, beautiful legs encased in sheer thigh-highs. 
I want this part of him- this her- and that wanting is complicated and mixed in with my desire to heal her pain and express my love for this side of him, that is her. 

I want it, though. Want to walk beside her with my cock heavy in my slacks, my already-masculine gait modified by its weight. Want to bind my breasts down and open doors for her like a gentleman, then press her to the floor beneath the weight of me. I want to drag her skirt up her thighs, leaving the heels and thigh-highs in place, and pull lacy panties out of the way for my cock, which is already aching. 

I love him as a boy. And I am learning that I love him as a girl. It took nearly losing her to begin to see that. 

In my mind's eye, I see my hands, devoid of their feminine rings for once, sliding up those thighs I know so well as a boy and seeing anew as a girl, slipping on the unfamiliar texture of the thigh-highs, which I've only known on my own skin, feeling the elastic slip into skin too soft to be a man's as my fingers travel higher, find scratchy-soft lace and what for this moment is my cunt. 
The only cunt that I have, today. 
The only cunt that I want. 
I can feel my lubed fingers sliding inside, hear the little gasps and moans that drive me completely insane in either gender. 
I can feel the urgency building, and I understand suddenly why so few men take the time that women want. This is intoxicating, and I want to press immediately into her- no lube, no prep, just my body owning the beautiful one beneath me.  
Just this body, this man who today is my woman, writhing beneath me and moaning, begging me for more while I ride her.

It took almost losing her to begin to learn how much that I need her.

I'm sorry, my darling. 
I want you.  

20 February 2009

Nothing erotic in a while

I know, I know. You don't read me for updates on my scintillating daily life. 

But sometimes it gets busy enough to ensure that there's not much else to read on here. So deal with it :-p

Lately I've had a lot going on in my non-kink life, and not much at all going on in my kink life... hence the quietness. 
Jack is sick right now, and we've just gotten back from Alabama with my new car. I sold my little del Sol last night, and I'm currently working for a friend (a very sweet rope Top, with an artistic bondage website) doing personal assistant stuff, as he's disabled and has limited mobility. 
I'm struggling not to get sick myself, but with a busy weekend ahead (dinner dates tonight with Kat and his new partner, AND with the Cunning Linguist and his girl, then Saturday lunch with the lovely Laramie, a Frolicon staff meeting, and Whippersnappers. Sunday will be an exotic bird show, and I think we have dinner plans again but I can't remember with whom. If you're who I have plans with, remind me, please?), that's rather unlikely. 

Meanwhile, I haven't seen Lucivar or Chris's Cat in a while, and Jack and I have been too busy imitating headless chickens to even consider playing. 

Hopefully, though, I'll be able to play soon. Lucivar and I have tentative plans for Tuesday night while Jack is at a hockey game, Saturday will be (hopefully) playing at Whippersnappers, and next weekend are (very) tentative plans to spend the weekend with Lucivar, as well as another play party. 

Be patient, my lovelies! I'll be back into form soon!

19 February 2009

Chainmaille HNT, and some changes

I have a very good friend, who's struggling with a porn addiction. To save his marriage, and heal himself, he's choosing to stop it cold turkey. 
My HNTs are one of the things he's been looking at, so to support his 
decision I'm changing them for a while. 

No more sexy/sexual HNTs for a while. If you're here for smut, you'll have to enjoy my stunning writing ability, rather than my photos. I realize this will lost me some of you, but I hope that you'll bear with me while I support my friend in his decision to heal himself.

This actually works out pretty well for me, and isn't really any kind of sacrifice, JSYK. I recently received a lot of my mother's old jewelry, and I'll be featuring it for the next little while, alone with the beautiful chainmaille that my sister makes.
So you'll get to see my sparklies for a while, rather than much of my body.

Enjoy, and as always visit my sister's Etsy store if you like what you see!

17 February 2009

Strays, part deux

I just gave Sarah to my godfather. He’s disabled, from a motorcycle accident. He lost his left foot just above the ankle. He’s at home most of the day, so she’ll be a good companion. She… wasn’t impressed. Their apartment smells like smoke, and he is loud and can be pushy.
Sarah is extremely shy, and spent the first 20 minutes hiding in my lap. It took me 35 to get her into his lap, and the rest of the evening to convince her that she couldn’t keep running back to me.

I cried as I drove away.

Don’t tell me that she’s better off, and don’t tell me that it needed to be done.
Do you think I don’t know that?

But you know what else that I know? I know that we’re all strays, and we’re all just looking for someone to love us.

I took her in, and then I abandoned her again.

She tried to run out with me when I opened the door to leave. I nearly cried as I shut the door while she watched me leave with big, frightened eyes.

I'm sorry.

14 February 2009


For the record, while I'm in a relationship (ok, several) and happy in it (them), I think that Valentine's Day is one of the most ridiculous holidays ever. Celebrating the torture and death of a priest (the most popular of the VD myths) by feeling obligated to go on rampant buying sprees is rather against any interpretation of the spirit of love. And, of course, there's simply the fact that if you need a 'holiday' to tell your partner that you love them, well, then you have bigger issues. Period. Now, that said, I hope that this day brings you everything you desire. May your day, and year, be joyous.

13 February 2009

My lover's lover

I walk into the house, and it's oddly quiet. There are two other people here, but I can't see them, can't hear them. 
Slowly, I wander the rooms of my home... my sneakered feet are quiet on the hardwood as I wonder what I will find when I find them.
The guest bedroom is empty, the same with the main bedroom, the media room... until I wander into the kitchen.

He is pressing her into the refrigerator, his pants down and pressed against her while she writhes and moans. Her hands are locked above her head in one of his fists while the other delves into her moist cunt and he is making low, pleased sounds at her response.
The line of his body, pressed against her, is beautiful and I go to them, pressing my suddenly painfully overdressedboday into his. I can taste the slick salt of his sweat and arousal as I press my mouth into the curve of his back. 

My lover is beautiful right now, as he plays with this girl we've both come to care for.  

12 February 2009

Doggie HNT

Me with my babies :)
And yes, Sarah, the smaller bulldog, is still up for adoption if you or anyone you know might want her!

10 February 2009

Erotic Artwork

The lovely and inimitable Gloria Brame (author and sex therapist extraordinaire) pointed those of us who read her blog to this amazing erotic artist duo. Many, many thanks, and may you enjoy the artwork of Roseros Erotic Masterpieces as much as I have!

09 February 2009

Another blog

For those who read me for FemDom erotica, I highly recommend who is rapidly becoming one of my favorite authors: Ferns of Domme Chronicles

08 February 2009


I dreamed about fucking him last night. 

I dreamed about his body stretched beneath me, my hands on his wrists and his head popping the headboard with every thrust of my hips. 
I dreamed about the slick sweat of his skin, of my skin, mingling as we're pressed together tightly, and the high-pitched little whimpers that he makes as my cock slides in and out of him. 

I dreamed about how wide his eyes are when I'm fucking him.

05 February 2009

Foot HNT

I didn't have time this week to take an HNT pic.

So here's an old one, courtesy of my Katzelien over the summer. 

04 February 2009


I am missing the taste of his skin. The smooth planes of his shoulders, and the rough whorls of his elbows. 
I am missing the shape of his hands, and the way that he smiles, almost shyly, when I touch him. 

I have this image in my head, of one of the last lunches in my car. Of him twisting his neck to look at me, almost over his shoulder, his smile shy and hesitant, and his eyes green and tender. 

I am missing him. 

03 February 2009


Kat and I said goodbye tonight. 
Actually, it was close to zhai'helleva than goodbye. 'Goodbye,' is a shorter version of "God be with ye," and in our culture it indicates an ending. A leaving. 
Zhai'helleva, however, is a phrase from Mercedes Lackey (shut up, I'm a fantasy buff. Deal) which means, "Wind to thy wings." It acknowledges the parting, but focuses not on the leave-taking, but on the hope of good fortune for your companion. 
It means that the parting is irrelevant, only the people and the emotions matter. 

Kat was my first submissive, and I cannot tell you how much that he taught me. He gave me a confidence in my own dominance that I could not have started this blog you're reading, or many of my other myriad projects, without. 
In many ways, he taught me my own dominance. It was his deferential smile and hopeful offer of a footrub which propelled me into the world of public kink and true polyamory. He taught me what I can handle as a dominant (not just a Top), and what I can't. He taught me so much, and I will always be grateful to him.

But I do not have room in my life right now for that responsiblity, and he deserves better than that. Also, he is developing a budding relationship with a lovely woman, and his loyalty and interest is rightly situated there. 
So tonight we sat down, and we agreed that it was time to part ways, and that we had been huge, wonderful influences in one another's lives. 

Zhai'helleva, my katzelein.


We sat in the car, side by side and not looking at one another except brief, short glances... stolen, like kisses in the twilight. 
Normally, when we're together I can feel him like a humming warmth along the line of body closest to him. 
I couldn't today.
I'd hurt him, broken his trust and we were both payig the piper for it. 
My chest hurt- a solid, dull ache that felt like the weight of tears. I'd done everything I knew how to do- explained, and apologized, and now I waited. Waited for the little boy in his heart to crawl out of hiding and decide if he would trust me again. 

Abruptly, I shifted, uncomfortable.The shift reminded me of my wallet in my back pocket, and I removed it before it could get any more uncomfortable.
He watched me move, and I heard his amused, exasperated sound, and before I could look over again my wallet was snatched from my hand and I was being smacked with it and his hand was on the back of my neck. 
It was the first time he'd voluntarily touched me since he'd gotten into the car, and I melted into him. Guilt isn't the Toppiest of feelings, and I sank into bottomspace gratefully.

I'm going to take this thing and beat you with it, one day. Stop wearing it in your back pocket!

I giggled at the image- my wallet being used as a paddle- and he wrapped his hand in my hair.
I always wear it in my back pocket. I've been doing it for 10 years and I'm not going to stop now. It's not like I carry a purse. 

He was smiling now, a more honest expression than anything I'd seen on his face in days.
I'm going to beat you with it one day until there are bruises and you'll wince and be like, 'They're from my wallet on my ass!'

I giggled, and curled into him.

He kissed my forehead. 
Are we better now? I wanted to ask, but when I looked at his face, I saw my answer. 

And I almost cried again, but this time from joy.  

02 February 2009

25 Random Things about Me

Moved over from Facebook, because I thought it's mildly interesting. 

1.) I've been dyeing my hair red since August '08. I love it. I always thought that long, blond hair was kind of false advertising on me, and short, spiky red hair is far more accurate despite its being 'fake'.

2.) Horses are my single biggest passion, but since I usually don't have access to them, I tend to shut down and not let myself think of them much. I know that's not healthy, but it's a working coping mechanism. 

3.) I have a trust fund, which isn't *nearly* as cool as it sounds. 

4.) Nearly all of my furniture is 3+ generation old antiques. I inherited all of them.

5.) My boyfriend and I are polyamorous. He has another girl he's dating, and I am dating another guy. This actually doesn't diminish our devotion to one another in the least.

6.) Jack is the person I want to spend my life with.

7.) I have a set routine in the shower, and if I have to deviate from it for some reason, it throws off my whole day. 

8.) I sometimes think that I was actually born a boy. 

9.) I love tea. I have over 40 teacups- not in sets, but individual teacups and saucers- and about 6 teapots now, plus over 2 dozen different loose teas. 

10.) I used to collect swords, but I gave them to my little brother when I went into the Navy. 

11.) I feel like I failed in my duty to society by having to medically separate from the military. To try and help with that, I volunteer with the Red Cross. 

12.) I love the fact that my friends confide in me, even when the secrets are hard to bear. It makes me feel trusted, and needed.

13.) My other overwhelming passion is human sexuality. Not sex, specifically, but sexuality and all its myriad forms and functions. I'm seriously considering becoming a sex therapist, in fact. 

14.) I spent nearly a year unable to have sex- while dating Jack. I still don't know why he stayed with me through it. 

15.) My birthday is 9/9, and my numerology chart is full of 4's and 9's. In numerology, that means that I'm a passionate, but pragmatic humanitarian who will walk through fire for my loved ones.

16.) I'm a complete bibliophile. If I go too long without reading a book, I literally have withdrawal-symptoms. I get headachey, moody, body aches, and constantly cold. 

17.) The constant cold isn't too different from normal, though. My hands and feet are perpetually cold. Seriously. It can be 80F outside, and my hands and feet will be cold. 

18.) I've been pagan for more than 10 years. My family thought it was a 'phase', but it's been a long damned phase. 

19.) My favorite music is 'whiny chick rock', ie girl-with-a-guitar folky pop rock.

20.) My dog runs my life, especially since we don't have a yard and dog door anymore. I'm still getting used to the idea that I can't just be gone for 20+ hours... unless I want to come home to a huge mess. 

21.) I have a female cat named Chewbacca (that one's Jack's fault!)

22.) Despite being in a het relationship, I identify very strongly with the LGBT community. 

23.) I spent Y2K in the Bahamas- and fought tooth and nail against going. That night was the first time I got buzzed, at 15, on drinks my father bought me. 

24.) I've never stopped regretting selling my last horse. 

25.) I have four 6" bookshelves, *loaded* with books, and I've read nearly all of them.


He is lying back on our couch, while she lies between his legs, her head resting on his chest. 
Every so often, he reaches for her hair, drawing her head back and kissing her deeply. She whimpers, writhing against him as her body begs for what it hopes is coming next. 

And he smiles, and drags slow hands over her skin. 


Today is Candlemas, Imbolgc, Bride's Day.

Today is an ancient Fire Festival of 'waking the earth' from her long winter's sleep and asking her to prepare to bring forth food for us. It is the first of the three spring festivals.

I don't have a garden here, and the ground is still too frozen to till even if I did. Of course, most of these rites took place in northern Europe, where as I write this it's 23F and snowing :)

Today is a day of Fire. A day of cleansing and purification, a day of creativity. Today (and yesterday, which was her Catholic Feast Day) is sacred to one of my patron Goddesses, Brigid. 
Brigid is a unique, multi-faceted Goddess- she began mythology as a Celtic Goddess of fire, creativity, smithing, and healing. Her sacred fire has been tended in Kildare for a thousand years, with only brief interruptions when conquers shut it down (and I suspect that a small flame was kept carefully and secretly nurtured). When St Patrick drove the snakes of paganism from Ireland, she was transformed into the Patron saint of children and childbearing, farmers, and printing presses (the modern way to write), who fostered Christ during the flight from Herod.  

Today, I will extinguish every light in my home, and I will light as many candles as I think is even remotely reasonable, bringing them all together in one place. I will light them from a single candle, which I will light with a mantra (that I don't know yet, something will come to mind). Then I will go and wake my companions and make suncakes, pancakes (another Brigid symbol- a grain-based food shaped like the fiery sun), and discuss our hopes, our passions, and what we'd like to do creatively in the coming warmer months. The goal is for our hopes and passions to ripen as the earth does in the coming spring. 

Enjoy your day, and whatever makes you passionate!

01 February 2009

Good day

So I haven't had much to say lately.
The past couple of weeks have been hard, and I've been taking them harder even than they deserve. 

Yesterday starting me feeling better, though, so I'm going to write about it despite it's (mostly) lack of kinkiness. 

Jack and I started the day with lunch with the Cunning Linguist, who's in town for a kink event. That was wonderful, as always- no really, I hate being cuddled between two extremely attractive men. Seriously. Oh noes!
Afterwards, since we were too early to go to Archer's place, we killed some time at the bookstore, where I found exactly the book I've been looking for- yay!- and spent a happy half-hour taking copious notes in the margins. 
Eventually, Jack and I went out to Archer's house, and spent several hours putting arrows (mostly) into a target, for the first time in 10 years. Jack has a real talent for it, but I struggled a bit, especially since I was learning a new way to nock and fire that will be more compatible with mounted archery.
Yes, you read that right. 
Mounted archery. Like this:

Yes there will be pictures eventually, but meanwhile I have to get halfway decent on the ground again, first :)

Afterwards, Terry and Lucivar joined us and we shot various firearms- Jack is enamored of the AK-47, probably at least partly due to his Russian studies. 
I stuck to handguns, as they're my preference anyway. Next time I might play with the bigger toys, but it's been long enough (and my shoulders were sore enough!) that I decided to stick to what I know. 

From there, we got some rather good Thai food, and then headed home, where I studied more before bed. 

Every once in a while, the Universe reminds me how worth it even the unpleasant periods of my life are. 

About Me

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I am just your ordinary average every day sane psycho supergoddess