poeticdesires

Category: Dirty Things

  • A Punchy Mood

    “Plates or pony tails?”
    “Pony tails.”

    The first Friday of the month meant Dirty Things.

    I prepped in SkinnyBitch’s room and chatted with her, asking for her opinions as I dressed, before leaving out for the party clad in my usual fare, a school girl outfit.

    Upon arrival, I could tell this would be a low key affair. I was in a rather chill mood and that seemed to fit the crowd for the night, which ended up being smaller than normal.

    Among those in attendance were TwistedView and BrighidsCross. I watched both their rope scene and a highly physical takedown rope scene before heading down to the cigar lounge.

    Taking in the haze, I lazed about, chatting with folks, and having a pleasant time.

    Then TwistedView entered the room. My eyes grew wide.

    “You have shot gloves,” I noted, as a huge grin formed on my face.
    “Well I guess this means we’re having a scene then.”

    After surveying the space available, we settled under an open arch.

    “Murphy showed me the wave punch.”
    “Uh oh.”

    I asked what he wanted me to take off. My new vest. My tie. My white shirt.

    “May I give you a show?”

    He leaned against the wall as I delighted in giving him a small strip tease. I slowly unsnapped the front of my shirt, one at a time, then turned around and slowly slid the fabric down my back, flinging the garment to the side.

    Without warning, TwistedView grabbed me from behind, using one of my pony tails to pull me, slamming me against the wall.

    He started by punching my chest lightly, warming me up. This didn’t last long.

    Like the last time he was in a punchy mood, the music was dubstep. He used the rhythm of the music in our scene again, increasing and decreasing the intensity of his punches with the tone of the music. At one point, he began smacking my nipples.

    “Pause, just for a second.”

    I pulled out my cigar lighter and cutter from my bra, tossing them to BrighidsCross.

    “Forgot those were in there.”

    TwistedView went back to his assaults.

    Turning me suddenly, my face against the wall, he punched my back. I can take much more pain on my shoulder blades, which he gratefully gave.

    Foolishly, I at first pulled my face from the wall. When he began wave punching my back, I couldn’t help but hit my head and/or chin against the wall. When I finally began resting my forehead on the wall, my teeth now chattered with his strikes.

    Flinging me back around, he ordered me, “On your knees.”

    Sitting in seiza, not only were my chest and nipples his targets, but now too my thighs received his assaults. I whimpered especially when he hit my inner thighs. This he took note of.

    “Sensitive there?”
    “Haven’t you heard of chub rub?”
    “I didn’t know they had a term for it.”

    Even as my thighs burned from the leg position, I was thankful for his punches to the front of my flesh. It was almost as if his pain kneaded out the oncoming cramping my legs wanted to inflict.

    Wrapping his arm around me, he pulled my body towards him. I gripped him tight, my hands on his back as he again punched my back. I felt the sweat of him, the heat of him as he worked over my body. I held him tight, breathed heavy, took his pain into my flesh.

    Throughout the scene, I caught the sounds of his growls.

    My eyes opened and closed randomly. I didn’t want to look, but if I peered on him I would not flinch before his punches. On the occasions I did close my eyes, more often than not I heard his growls in my ears as I gasped or moaned from pain, especially we he waved punched me, pressing into my flesh to accentuate the blows.

    Finished with my back, I begged to be allowed to sit cross legged. I accepted the fact this gave him even more access to my inner thighs. I didn’t care; my legs hated the fatigue of working so hard to keep me up more the possible pain from TwistedView.

    Predictably, he punched at his now very open target. I whimpered and cried, once trying to grip the wall I leaned against, once trying to move away.

    Unpredictably, he stood, and then placed his left boot on my right thigh. For a second I whimpered, but then I moaned. As he slid the edge of his heel into my flesh, my cry was a mix of pain and pleasure. I had not told him how much I liked to be stepped on.

    “You like boots, and you like pain, so I thought ‘Why not?’.”

    He pressed into my left thigh, and then, happily, his boot found my chest, pressing into the right and left sides equally. Once, his heel caught my necklace and jammed the metal into my skin. Even with this unexpected (and surprisingly excruciating) pain, I did not care. I was getting stood on, therefore I was happy.

    With the music tempo slowed, he softly hit me, slowing down the scene, finishing up.

    His aggression let out, and me happy-floaty, BrighidsCross fetched us refreshments, and all three of us chatted as I came back down to earth.

  • Following The Rule

    “The rule is do what you want.”

    I parked a block and a half away. He carried my toybag up the stairs to the second level to check in. He paid my admission; I’d forgotten to swing by an ATM.

    I looked through the throng and saw Diamond was there. I rushed into her arms for a hug. Murphy walked in. I introduced the Gent. 

    As everyone chatted, I stepped away for more hugs. Coming back into the conversation, it seems Diamond had read my blog, which sparked the interesting moment of “I don’t know you, but I know about you.”

    I gave Gent a tour. The smoking lounge.  The darker somewhat quieter third floor.  The second floor packed with hard points. I reminded him he had an easy out clause if he wanted or needed to go.  He said he hadn’t seen anything new.

    I saw Lochai. He said cigar time would be starting soon. I grabbed my humidor and headed downstairs. Gent followed.

    He sat in a chair; I sat on the floor. I explained I never sat on the furniture in the smoking lounge. People filtered in. I got my first request for cigar service. I grabbed my lighter and cutter and made my way over. Ten minutes later, when I looked around, the Gent was gone.

    I hung out in the smoking lounge for about an hour. But, because I am who I am, I went looking for him to make sure the Gent was doing okay. Heading back up to the second floor, I paid a toll.

    In the lounge area, I hugged KnownUnknown from behind and greeted Nomad. Since Nomad had never been to the Playhouse, I gave her a tour. 

    First we peaked our heads into the smoking lounge. Then we headed up to third floor, where I saw Gent was watching an impact scene. Making our way down to the second floor, I pointed out to Nomad that a Murphy was tying. Did she want to go watch a Murphy tie? She quite enthusiastically nodded her head yes. I was glad I could make a Nomad happy.

    I found KnownUnknown again and we chatted more.

    There was a raffle; I lost.  I don’t have good luck when it comes to raffles. 

    I checked-in with Gent. He was doing fine. He encouraged me to go back to mingling.

    I made my way to a corner with friends. I sat on the floor in front of them. Among those seated was N3rddom. We talked about the scene he was planning for me: kidnapping, beating, mean meanness. 

    N3rddom pulled me into his arms. I leaned into his legs, happy for the embrace. He talked into my ear. We watched the scenes going on around us. N3rddom then went for water. TwistedView came over, rather punchy.

    After he relieved his ease, he sat behind me. Gent reappeared and sat with him. I turned to Gent and mentioned he had not yet ripped my shirt; he had promised me the gesture earlier in the week. Giving TwistedView the first yank, both men ripped open my gray tank top. I sat back in between Gent’s legs.

    I grabbed his hand and put his fingers into my hair. He massaged my scalp. I let myself float away again.

    Nomad and TeddyBear started showing off bite marks. Inspired, I bit Gent’s left arm. He reached down and started playing with my nipples. I felt the warmth rising in my abdomen, but I wanted more. Softly with his hand, Gent veered my face to his other arm. I bit down hard again.

    With both bite marks complete, I wasn’t done just yet. He continued to play with my nipples, scratching, twisting, pinching hard. I bit here and there on his arms. Eventually, I asked permission. He gave it.

    As I leaned forward, my abdomen convulsing, he ripped the back of my shirt open. Digging his nails into my skin, he scratched up and down my back. He glided his fingers under my bra hooks, but did not open them.

    When he finished, I realized I wanted something. Turning around, I put my chin on his knee and said, “I’m hungry.”

    “What do you want to eat?” I looked down at his crotch and then back up into his eyes.

    “I’m trying to think of a reason to say no.”  I pointed at my face.

    “This…this is me pouting.”

    “Well, you shouldn’t go hungry.”

    I pulled his cock out and started sucking.

    “No balls?”

    “Getting there.” He wore jeans, which made it difficult, but I was able to pull out his balls and suck on them. He softly put his hand in my hair and pet me as I played. I practiced my deep throating, able to resist most of my gagging, opening up my throat as I stroked his cock.

    “Is your friend still coming with us?” I didn’t have time to enjoy his cock for long. It was near the end of the event.

    “I’ll go check.” I put his cock and balls back inside his pants, zipped, and belted his jeans. Checking with Slut, she did still need a ride.

    I bopped downstairs into the smoking lounge to retrieve my shoes, socks, and humidor. There was no one in the room. Hmm…

    Scurrying back up to the lounge area, I packed my humidor and pulled out a condom. Finding Gent sitting close by, I whispered in his ear, “You should come with me.”

    I took him down to the smoking lounge and closed the door behind us. I pulled the condom out of my bra.

    “Ok.”

    He motioned me towards a chair. He pulled out his dick, put the condom on, and had me bend over. As he fucked me, I cursed and moaned. I heard the door open and close, but took little notice of it. He fucked me for only a few minutes, just enough to tease me.

    Breathing hard, I took a moment before I stood up. When I did, I saw we had had an audience of two. They clapped and complimented us. We headed back upstairs.

    Retrieving a Slut, we headed home. 

    I dropped off Slut before taking Gent back to my place and his car. 

    As we were about to get out of my car, I leaned over and kissed him. We had never kissed before, but I was the following the rule. Our styles were similar, his soft lips exquisite fun as we lightly sucked and played.  Gentle strokes of his tongue ended the evening just right. 

    I gave him better directions home. We hugged goodnight.

  • Punchy

    “You have to pay the toll.”

    I happily bopped up the stairs and hugged my friend, TwistedView, who was in town to teach a rope class and enjoy in the merriment that was Dirty Things. He stood a step above me, so my face mussed into his tummy as well pulled each other in tight.

    Randomly, TwistedView started thumping on my back. I moaned from the massage, letting my body fall fully into his fists  Once finished, I looked up, floaty-headed, and thanked him for the wonderful greeting.

    Later that night, as I sat in a corner chatting with friends, fully clothed, relaxing into the party atmosphere, TwistedView came over and knelt down before me.

    “So you like hard thuddy pain?”

    I happily told him how I loved being punched. Talking with my hands, I went over the various places I was often hit: my chest, the sides of my arms, my shoulders, my back, my thighs all around, and of course my ass. People love my ass for obvious reasons. As I spoke, TwistedView sat on my shins.

    A dubstep song was playing in the background as TwistedView started punching my thighs. He began slowly, easing into harder hits.

    “Why hit someone in the back when you can see their reactions from the front.”

    I gasped with each punch, my breathing progressing from light puffs to moans to yelps as the force of his blows increased.

    He switched to my chest, rattling my ribs as he punched from my nipples to my clavicle. I brought my body up into his blows, not allowing myself to lean back, taking the impact.  It felt like my body was creating a wave as it found a rhythm with TwistedView’s hits.

    He switched back to my thighs. He punched harder still, jamming his fist into my flesh to accentuate his blows. Running his knuckles over my muscles, the pain sunk in deep.

    Punching my chest once more, his hits increased still further, forcing my back to lie against the empty chair behind me. He thumped and thumped my torso. Throughout I gasped and yelped, moaned and screamed.

    Then, without warning, TwistedView pulled me towards him. My face once again sunk into his tummy. My hands now gripped his sides as he beat against my back. 

    He followed the rhythm of the dubstep, beating out the music through my frame. At a particular interlude, the music slowed. He took this moment to run his knuckles up and down my spine.  But, once the beat dropped, he again pounded my back relentlessly.

    My beating complete, he rubbed my back and held me tight. I slowly leaned back and finally opened my eyes. I smiled, floating high.

    Later, when it was time for everyone to depart, TwistedView explained, “Sometimes I’m just in a punchy mood.”

    “Well, if I’m ever at an event, and you’re in a punchy mood, tap me on the shoulder.”

  • On Our Way

    He arrived late. There was traffic. There was rain. I was nervous.

    He parked in my driveway, leaving room for another car to fit beside him. I gave him a hurried ten cent tour of the house before I grabbed my things and got us into my car. My bag was heavier than normal; I stuffed everything into the one rolling case.

    Since we’d lost an hour, I wasn’t sure where we’d eat. And I needed gas. 

    We got on the road. I briefly stopped for fuel. We decided to just head to the city and find food nearby. As we got back onto the interstate, traffic slimmed, and we found ourselves in the city with an hour before the party started.

    We both wanted steak. We choose a nice restaurant I had actually visited a few times. I mentioned this, noting that I ate there during special occasions with my father and brother.

    “I could be your Daddy.”
    “I…Ah…No comment.” If I could have, I would’ve turned beat red.

    We walked through the chill wet air to the restaurant. We sat in a booth at the bar.

    “Do you want to see me do something dorky and cute?” 

    The table between us was huge. I got up, nudged him over, and sat beside him.

    “Wow, that is dorky and cute.”
    “Does this freak you out?”
    “What do you think?”
    “Yeah, you don’t get freaked out.”
    “Rarely.” 

    I sat back on my side.

    He wanted a drink, which made me want a drink. We ordered our food and our booze.

    I tried to take a cute picture of myself for FourSquare, but the lighting wasn’t right. I settled on a shot of our drinks, which arrived rather quickly, and his hand. After I checked-in, he pulled out his phone and, using his flash, took a picture of me. I sipped my Platinum Margarita; he drank his Blue Moon.

    Our server brought over bread. I waited, wanting him to have the first slice. He could see this, and asked me if I wanted bread. I told him he was hungrier. I had had food more recent than he, therefore, to be polite, I wanted to wait for him to eat first.

    “What’s the phrase? Ah, yes. My Momma raised me right.“

    “Eat the bread.” I split the slices in half and started nibbling. He ate his portion too.

    He told me, for the party tonight, I should do whatever I wanted.

    “But that’s not what you said before. Before, when we spoke on Wednesday, you said the rule was I was to not worry or check up on you. I like to follow the rules, so which is it?”

    “The rule is do what you want.”

    Our food arrived. He got his steak medium well; I got mine medium rare. I tried not to judge. The lobster mashed potatoes had a sauce on top that looked like it could be cheese based. He doesn’t like cheese. (Once again, I tried not to judge.)  I ate some off the top.

    “Could you move that a little closer to the center?” I didn’t realize I had monopolized our shared side dish. I pushed the bowl in the middle.

    I ate my three asparagus spears, which were seasoned perfectly. He looked down at my plate and asked me if I had received my vegetable. I confirmed I had. He remarked that I ate too fast. I argued that, for me, my eating of the asparagus had actually been slow.

    As the meal progressed, I started following his bite rhythm, waiting to eat another morsel until after he’d cut off a piece for himself. He noticed, and told me I should just do what I wanted. I wanted to follow his bite count.

    He ordered a second beer. I drank his and my water; pre-hydrating.

    As the server passed by, we asked for the check. We gathered all the plates and cups into a neat configuration for her to collect them. We left our credit cards at the end of the table. She split the check evenly. I said, since my half was $44, I would make it an even $55 with the tip. He paid $55.01.

    We got up. He held my coat for me as I put my jacket on. We lazily walked out of the restaurant. 

    I was giddy and happy and excited. My belly was fully, I had a slight buzz from my drink, and I was taking the Gent to his first play party.  We were on our way to Dirty Things.

  • A While

    Going into tonight’s Dirty Things party, I had three aims. 1- There would need to be much cigar play. 2- I wanted to spend some time with N3rddom and KnownUnknown, who would be traveling from far away to attend the party. And 3- I absolutely wanted to kiss VoodooPrincess again. Thankfully, all three of my aims were met, and more.

    Almost as soon as I checked in, I was down in the smoking lounge. VoodooPrincess and I both served as cigar sluts again, with Lochai adding his ingenious ideas for fun into the mix. There was much preparation of cigars, and eating of ash. VoodooPrincess, however, got the gold star for the evening with her inspired idea for an ash s’more. One of my highlights from my smokey fun time included a lump of ash atop a half eaten strawberry. My mouth was full of all new tastes and sensations.

    I indeed had the wonderful thrill of kissing VoodooPrincess for quite some time. Once involved passing ash from her tongue to mine. Our first embrace was merely her proper greeting to me. I felt more than welcome in her presence.

    Close to the apex of the cigar smoking, Celeste and Veskrashen arrived. Celeste found herself drawn to my hair, noting how soft it was. She then proceeded to run her fingers through my curls, then down my back and across my skin. I ceased contributing to any conversation and could no longer give service. My world existed only in the inches of skin her fingers caressed or scratched, the curls she twirled, and my breath.

    As Celeste’s manipulations came to an end, N3rddom and his crew arrived. I greeted him, asking if he wished to smoke the half of a cigar I saved him from our New Years play. He politely declined, taking a seat next to SirRonC to chat.

    As people filtered in and out, I made my way back upstairs. I strolled about for a while, naked, until the cold got to me. Scurrying back downstairs, I restored some of my clothing, to the disappointment of some, including myself.

    Back in the main play space, I approached Veskrashen and gave him a proper hug hello. Before I was too distracted for a cordial greeting. In a moment of “why not”, I asked if he was interested in some sharp-and-pointy time. He said he was, but would need some time before we could play. I politely agreed and asked that he come find me when he was ready.

    It was not long before we crept upstairs, found a table, and my naked body was once again under his blades.

    “It’s been a while since we last played.” – V

    “Tickle!” – me
    “Really?” – V
    “Shit! Shit shit shit shit. I shouldn’t have said anything. Why did I open my mouth? You didn’t hear that.” – me

    “You have this lovely bruise. I must poke it. It is in the Domly code.” – V

    “You growled again.” – me
    “You know, I use my blades, but it’s always the growling women note.” – V
    “It’s just something about it that brings the scene to a new level. It’s layering the levels of kink.” – me

    “Your knives are beautiful, both in their decoration and their great ability to inflict pain.” – me

    His knives once again danced across my skin. We began with my body face down. He mixed light wispy strokes with hard languid movements and occasional pointed jabs of pain. He found my tickle spot, the mix of squirming from torture and almost giggling was incredible.

    He used his blades against my shoulders to make me turn over. He started with my face. Next, my neck. He went after my thighs, my stomach. He lashed at my Mons, eliciting my highest pitched shrieks. The tip of one of his blades rested an inch above my clit. I moaned as I bucked my hips up into the air, wanting his blade tip just a little farther down.

    His knives found my breasts and nipples. My moans increased. I breathed my arousal into my abdomen. I loved the feel of his knives squeezing and scraping my flesh.

    He ended with a flourish, pushing his knives into my neck, crossing them on my skin, and growling his loudest of the scene into my ear.

    As before, he placed his hand on my chest and helped me to slow my breathing. We waited until I was less swimmy headed. I did not need to immediately lie back down when I sat up, and I was able to walk around just fine a few minutes after that.

    But, before we parted, Veskrashen gave me a taste of his beating stick. It was yet another implement that gave not a thuddy or stingy but burny feeling on my ass, my arms, my thighs. I made sure that stick stayed very far away from me after we finished our time together.

    My night ended with a tie. Murphy had been rigging none stop for some time, but his last bottom was nowhere to be found. He still had time to tie and wanted to tie. I volunteered myself.

    He put me in a chest harness and secured me to his Shibari ring. He stood in front of me, placed his head against mine, and for a moment we shared breath.

    Punch “Ten.” His right fist found my chest. Punch “Nine.” This time, it was his left. He hit me again and again. By seven, the pain became acute. By five, I wondered if I’d be able to take it all. At two, I screamed and leaned into him. He told me I had done well, had been just right. With one, both of his fists hit my chest. I was happy the harness was there to hold me up.

    Murphy hugged me, thanking me. I leaned into him and, for a moment, allowed myself to cry a little. He asked me why I shed tears. I explained I had held back my disappointment all night. However, when he manifested my emotional pain into a physical form, I then had to let go of the droplets.

    I thought I was going to see Gray tonight. I thought he was going to give a cigar play class and I was going to be his demo bottom. Turns out that’s not for another two weeks. I learned this at the beginning of my night. As soon as I felt the pain coming, I shut down those thoughts and attempted to concentrate only on what was right in front of me.

    During the night, when I came down to put on some clothing, Lochai asked me if I was leaving. Of course he made his inquiry after I’d popped a chocolate covered pretzel into my mouth. I pointed to my situation, while chewing as best I could before speaking. He commented on how I was “always so fucking polite” as he waited for my answer. I assured him I was not leaving just yet, but merely trying to brace myself against the cold.

    It took his inquiry for me to answer that question. I had thought about leaving the party. I knew I could go, since my passengers would not be returning with me. I knew I could just slip away. And part of me wanted to do just that.

    But another part knew I should stay, knew that by opening up myself to what could possibly happen during the rest of my night I was self-soothing. And I did feel much better when I left than when I realized how our wires had gotten crossed.

    It’s been awhile since I’ve seen Gray. Our lives are busy. We live on opposite coasts. There is more than enough to explain why I was really looking forward to our planned interactions. And there was more than enough reason for me to slip into the bathroom, or hide in my car, and cry. But I didn’t.

    Instead, I sought out kinky fun from those around me. I enjoyed my time, enjoyed the party. And with a helpful reminder from Murphy, I acknowledged that though I was mistaken about the date of the class, I still had a promise to demo bottom for Gray.

    So, yeah. Even with the confusion and resulting hurt, I found a way to make myself have a good night.

    [pats self on back]

  • Intoxicating

    From my experience at Dirty Things…

    I sat on the floor, naked, my chest covered in ash. The Girl sat next to me, naked save for garters and stockings. Her Daddy sat in a chair beside us. The Empath barely stood, as far away as she could be in the small ten-by-ten room.

    I relished being in their presence, smoke sticking to my skin and in my hair. I relished the sight of the body of the Girl, so beautiful, so close to me. But, most of all, I relished the power her Daddy held over her.

    “Cum.” With one word, the Girl’s body moved, flexed, bent to his will. Her breathing increased. Her hands struggled to find a hold. The reaction was definite and magical.

    “Cum harder.” The Girl’s breathing grew heavier. Her frame shuddered. Her Daddy held a hand against her back for support, lest she fall over.

    “Now, direct it.”

    “NO!” The Empath protested fervently. The effect the Daddy’s manipulation of his Girl on the Empath was more than magical; it was wondrous. The Empath felt the Girl’s orgasm. The swell rolled through her body as well. The Empath was caught in a trap, unable to be released. She could just barely keep herself up against the wall.

    The Girl was new to her control, new to this sensation. The Girl did not know, yet, how to guide her energy. The Empath only found small relief in this. She still felt uneven passion ebbing across the room to her; she still could not get away.

    As I sat and watched, something else happened in that room, something I would not reveal to those around me. As the Girl tried to direct her shudders and starts to the Empath, tried to grow and release her ball of energy, I began to feel it. A soft pulse of lust emitted from her body. I was so close to her, a breath away.

    It wasn’t obvious at first, just a slight warmth in my abdomen. But it grew. And grew, as the Girl sought to manipulate the Empath.

    I kept quiet. I continued to smile. I now relished in the growing warmth inside me. I let the delicious sensation roll around. However, I did not allow myself to get lost in it. I slowly let it melt in, instead of letting it takeover.

    Later that night, long after the Daddy was finished having his fun with the Empath, after my multiple rope moments, when everyone gathered their things to go, I sought out the Girl. I would not leave without saying goodnight.

    I floated on a rope high through the room. I saw her, as bubbly and beautiful as I’d always seen her. I breezed over, smiling; she always made me smile. She saw the change in me, the delicate balance as I hung in the air.

    We hugged our bodies into each other. She lightly kissed the nape of my neck. I nuzzled into hers. Our cheeks found each others, brushing softly. Our noses lightly grazed. Our lips, so soft, met. We kissed. And kissed. And kissed.

    I massaged her back. She ran her nails down mine. I gasped. She bent over. She sucked one nipple while pinching the other. I moaned. She switched. I moaned more.

    She took to one knee. Her hand ran down my thigh, against my mons, and finally, after I slightly parted my legs, a single finger found and stroked just above my clit. My breathing rocked with my body. I softly brushed my hands against her hair.

    I felt it building. And building. And building.

    “Please may I come.” I said it low, a whisper, the lightest of pleas.

    “Please, please may I come.” Louder. Begging. A need.

    “Yes.”

    “Thank you.” My abdomen contracted. I struggled to breathe. My hands flexed. It ripped through me.

    “Cum.” Her Daddy had been watching. Her Daddy gave the command. She obeyed. Her body and her breathing shuddered. We leaned on and into each other.

    Our breathing returned, we found ourselves hugging again. It was time to go.

    “You are intoxicating,” I told her before I had to drift, high and happy, on my way home.

  • Hold On

    From my experience at Dirty Things…

    He told me to go tie myself up. I scurried off, happy to have the practice, and wanting to try something new.

    I used my gifted red rope, along with a length of swapped black rope, for my chest harness. I used my gifted raw hemp for the hip harness (which included a crotch line for extra fun). I cinched to the hip piece and looped around my legs as I had done before. I added all the lifting lines before I began my ascent, just as I had practiced.

    But next was where things changed. I added a fourth lifting line to a new point, the one he had suggested some time ago. I lifted myself, lowered my chest, and floated above the world, my body weight resting solely on my hips. My arms could almost graze the floor.

    I lifted my chest back up, re-secured the line, and lowered a leg. I discarded the long chest rope and switched it out with a shorter from the leg on the ground. I moved the new chest rope to the side, lifted myself once more, and floated sideways. I drifted, sunk into this new feeling.

    I again resettled my leg and moved the chest line. Securing the rope to the back of the harness, I floated half sideways, half face down. I absorbed this new position, and its different set of strains.

    Feeling the time had come to stop, I lowered myself down, sat, and coiled my ropes. I wondered if I could, somehow, perform the transitions without lowering my leg. I promised myself I would practice this new sequence again, soon.

    My things packed away, and the night nearing at its end, I found him unraveling his tie. He asked if I was ready. I informed him we had no time, that the night had left us. That was, unless he wanted to do something “fast and furious”. He smiled at the comment. He went to the organizers to ask a question.

    I sat and lounged and talked, letting myself wind down. He came back and spoke to another. He stood behind me. And then his rope was around me.

    With one quick cinch, and my instant inhale of breath, I understood what was about to happen. I quickly flung my glasses away, caught by another who held them til the end. He cinched my chest again, and again, and again. He pressed into my body with his boot, first at my back, then on my chest. He forced my torso down onto my crossed legs. He then pushed my chest down to the ground. He grabbed my leg and wrapped the rope around it thrice. He pulled tight and cinch my leg to my chest.

    All the while, whenever his body came close to mine, I leaned into him. I rubbed my cheek, my shoulder, my hand onto any part of him that was near me. And he caressed me with his hand, his hair, and his rope.

    With my body secured, he held me, brushed my face, and said, “We don’t have time for me to ease this in, so I’m going to push it.” He counted 1, 2, 3. He struck my sternum, a warm glow now living in my chest. “Hold on to that for a while.” And he held me.

    After a moment, he began unwinding the ropes. Even with the strands flowing off my body, I felt the glow still in my chest. Even as we sat, cuddling, happy to be with one another, if only for a moment, I felt it. On the drive home. As I slipped into bed. As I write this, I still feel it.

    It is caring, affection, friendship, connection. I hold on to who I am, who we are, all that has happened before, and all that is yet to be.

  • Sweet & Gritty

    Have you ever mixed cigar ash with pixie sticks? I have, to wonderful results.

    Last night fortune smiled on me. Work finished incredibly early, as in 10:30pm, and I was able to make my way to Baltimore, where the Playhouse was hosting the Dirty Things party. I’d packed a toy bag, just in case I could actually make it, and found myself arriving for the get together, fully dressed in my work clothes, at 11:30pm.

    When I arrived, I was greeted by the naked body of KnaveKarina. It seemed a bad bad man was teasing her so, not allowing her to close her legs when she came ever so close to a happy outcome. I hugged her, happy to see her once again, the first time since FetFest.

    Making my way into the main play area, I was greeted this time by my Big Bro, who had made his way down from New York to stop by for the fun. Murphy sat with twixmebaby on the floor to his left. Slut sat in front of him, tied in an Ebby, as Bro abused her back. I was happy to be among my family and to have an actual Friday night (mostly) off. I disrobed down to my underwear and joined them on the floor.

    After Murphy untied Slut, we all lounged about, happy to be in each others company. But, I had a nagging question. My main motivation for traveling to Charm City was Slut’s request to tie me up. After her scene with her Sir, I wondered if she still wanted to play with me in that manner.

    Indeed, she did.

    I fully disrobed, tucked my clothes into my toy bag, and removed my smaller rope bag, just in case other fun was to be had that night. I then sat in front of her, awaiting instruction.

    She bade me turn around. Her lips close to my ear, she simply asked, “Hard or soft?”

    “Hard.” Was there ever any doubt?

    Slut began with hair bondage on my curls, which had been out and flowing all day. Cinching tight, Slut ran her cherry red cotton rope down my back and around my left wrist. After she had taken a moment to tie a cuff, she kept my mind on her as her teeth sunk into my arm. I yelped, surprised at the sudden pain. She also kissed and sucked on my neck. My mind remained there, on that floor, with her.

    Slut next secured my right wrist, and brought the rope between my legs and around my right thigh. Slut had ordered me on my knees, to secure the rope around my leg, but now she began to push my back. I thought she wanted me to move forward, so I edged my way along.

    “You’re going down.” Instead, she had wanted me on the floor. I leaned my body forward, not realizing until it was too late, that I no longer had my arms or hands to brace my fall. I landed hard on the floor, my face taking the brunt of my weight. For those of you who follow me on Twitter, you may have seen the fun outcome of my face meeting the floor.

    No matter. I was not about to stop the scene.

    Happy with her tie, Slut had me back in a crossed-leg position. She kissed my face, right at my rug burn, and then began her assaults. She punched my chest, slapped my thighs, and wove her rope around my nipple piercings. She then used these two new perky easy buttons to torture me further, twisting and pinching as she liked.

    “Give me any color of the rainbow.” She kissed and pinched, pleasure and pain nothing new for me.

    “Red.” I started to cry a little.

    “Is that a red out?”

    “No, it’s a red, as in my favorite color.”

    “Good.” She continued with her assaults.

    I began to wail, but not loudly just yet.

    “I want to be the reason you cry. I want to hear you scream.” She continued to bite, punch, and slap me. Soon, the tears came. She licked the droplets from my face.

    In a possible inadvertent move, she flicked at my left nipple, sending a surge of pain through me. I truly screamed, the excruciation overpowering any other sensation. I began to ball.

    “If you want me to stop, you had better stop screaming.” But I couldn’t as she slapped the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs. I cried and wailed, and she loved ever moment of it.

    Releasing my left and right nipple ropes, Slut began kissing me, her soft lips a salve to my pain. She slowly untied my binds with my head resting in her chest, the soft flesh of her breasts against my face.

    My cries soon quieted. My breathing slowed. I came back from my sub space.

    We cuddled, and Slut gave me Gatorade. I was floaty and happy. I was already quite pleased I’d made my way to Baltimore.

    As I wondered what more fun I would get into, Lochai walked up to us. I greeted him with a hug on my knees. Delighted to see me, the subject of cigar play came up. I just so happened to have packed my cigar box and was more than happy to join Lochai downstairs for a smoke.

    On the first floor, in a warm smoke scented room, Lochai sat on a couch while I rested on the floor. He had his own stash of cigars, but I showed him the ones I had to offer. Instead of smoking one of his, he gifted me a cigar and smoked one of mine. I unwrapped the cellophane, wet the end, cut it, and held my lighter as he puffed away.

    Voodoo Princess, Lochai’s slave, sat right behind me, also naked on the floor, quietly watching. Right after Lochai began his cigar, DarianIlRe and his female companion walked in. They wished to partake in their cigarettes. As they pulled out their smokes, I offered my lighter for them.

    Everyone chatted, the conversation meandering through polyamory, kink, porn, and hair.

    Lochai, taking full advantage of his cigar, leaned in close to me. He slowly breathed out his smoke into my face. I inhaled a little, but mostly enjoyed the feel of his breath on my skin and the nearness of him. The second time Lochai came in close, as he finished his wisps of smoke, he sneaked a quick kiss. “Come on, I had to.” If I could’ve, I would’ve blushed.

    As the ash on his cigar grew, I knew I would soon have a treat. Lochai, ready to dispose of some ash, had me lean my head back and stick out my tongue. He flicked the ash onto my tongue and I gobbled it up.

    A female guest slipped into the room and sat beside Lochai. She did not understand why I enjoyed ash so. I explained I actually liked the taste, a sort of gritty and salt & pepper flavor.

    Lochai spoke about how not everyone liked the taste, musing on how Emily did not enjoy that particular act. Even worse, there was something else she also didn’t enjoy. “You know what to do.”

    Emily scurried over to the foot of Darian’s female companion. Reluctantly, she placed her tongue on the woman’s toe. Apparently, Emily hated feet. Lochai reveled in watching her squirm.

    Her tortured ceased, Lochai once again had ash to give. This time, he broke it off in my hand and instructed me to spread it across VooDooPrincess’ chest. I then happily licked off the ash, performing my service with glee. VoodooPrincess seemed to also enjoy it, encouraging me to make sure I got every single fleck across her breasts, stomach, and especially her nipples.

    Soon Darian and his companion needed to depart. But, before he left, Darian gifted me three pixie sticks and instructed me to give away two of them. The third was all for me.

    So when I say I have enjoyed pixie sticks and cigar ash, you can understand why I say it was a lovely outcome. A pile of pixie dust and a lump of ash in my hand, I crush the mixture together and sprinkled it onto VoodooPrincess’ chest. I then happily licked it off of her, this time exploring her belly button as some of the mixture had made its way there.

    Lochai, ever happy to aid in my service duties, kept providing me with ash. Once, I drew my initial on VoodooPrincess’ body with my tongue and saw them emerge when I sprinkled the sweet and salty dust. I also created a smiley face on her stomach in the sweet gritty mixture.

    Eventually, though, VoodooPrincess had to depart. Her birthday was in a few days and she had been offered a scene as a gift. She scurried upstairs, but not before gifting me with a kiss, both with our lips and our noses.

    However, she came back almost immediately. The person with whom she was to have the scene needed ten minutes. So, with a pixie stick to give, VoodooPrincess spread the sweet dust on my body, and licked and sucked it all off. Taking more than her allotted time, she did have to eventually go, but we enjoyed the sweet repreive she was given.

    As VoodooPrincess left, SirRonC came in. He sat across from Lochai and they talked shop about cigars. As they chatted, Lochai presented his left foot, on which he wore an ankle high boot. I could even spot ankle braces for men on his foot, which was maybe due to an old pain that he suffers from. I politely asked if I could kiss his leather. He gave his permission.

    I laid out on the floor, my face on his leather, and began kissing all over his boot. Once I’d loved on his one boot for quite some time, I sat up and he presented the other. I kissed and caressed his leather again.

    As I laid, splayed on the floor, my face full of leather, I realized Ron and Lochai were talking about cigars but Ron did not have one. I offered some of my tobacco so he too could joy in the fun. He accepted my Acid Blondie, a short but satisfying smoke. With Ron, too, I unwrapped his cellophane, wet and cut his end, and held my lighter as he puffed away.

    With his first ash, Ron flicked the lump into my hand. Lochai explained how I liked to eat ash. Ron said I could, by all means, eat the ash he’d given me. I said I would love to eat his ash, but asked if I could eat it out of his hand.

    He presented his rather large palm to me. I poured the lump into his hand and, with one quick swipe, licked the remnants from my own hand. Before I began, Lochai explained to Ron that he should enjoy the experience much like when someone worships his boots.

    Up on my knees, hands on my thighs, I gazed up at Ron, right into his eyes, and gave him a smile. I then ate my treat, softly licking and sucking his palm, happy to perform this service for him. He often said, “Oh, that’s nice,” as I caressed his hand with my lips.

    Darian and his companion soon returned to our smokers’ circle. As Lochai mentioned some of the things Ron could do to or with me, Darian asked if I’d ever had ash in my ass. I said I had had it all over my body, including my pussy, but not in my ass. Darian suggested I act as his foot stole and, when Ron had enough ash, he could use my ass as his ashtray. How could a girl say no to that?

    As I relaxed on the floor, with both Darian and Ron’s feet on my back, the group continued to converse. For a moment, I smiled, realizing how lucky I was that I was there. By all rights, I could’ve been at work, waiting for a party to end. I could’ve been home, sleeping, resting for work the next day (which is where I am right now, writing this). I could’ve been anywhere but there. I was happy life gave me this night of submission and service.

    I never did get ash in my ass. People soon began filtering out. First Darian and his companion departed. As they left, Darian bent down and said how he missed seeing me. My life has been busy with work, and my social butterfly has felt quite stifled. I spoke about making an appointment for him to do my hair, and how I hoped to be out to a TNG Baltimore Happy Hour soon. He gave me a quick kiss before leaving.

    Lochai left right after. It was getting late, and he needed to help clean up before kicking everyone out.

    Ron and I were left for him to finish his cigar. He had one more lump of ash for me. Breaking it off into my hand, I asked if I could once again eat it out of his hand. He consented. I again took pleasure in caressing his palm, in licking and sucking every fleck of ash up. Once I finished, he leaned over, hugged me, and thanked me for providing my service. I was happy to have served that night.

    Making sure all my cigar accessories were tucked away, I scurried back upstairs. I was greeted by Slut, who was fully clothed. Apparently it was after 2am, the official end time for the event. Looking at my face, she said I would definitely need cream to help it heal. I had not yet seen the damage from my tumble, but she said she would buy me a bottle of salve from a drug store on the way home. I redressed into my work clothes, which seemed awfully funny to me.

    Then the hugs began. I embraced Murphy, as well as Lochai, before heading out with Slut and a wayward attendee in tow. After a quick stop at CVS, and Slut bandaging to my face, I dropped off both my passengers and finally climbed into bed around 4:15am.