It’s been quiet here.
Partially because I am flooded with work and have not had time to write.
Partially because I have not done much worth writing about.
It’s also quiet generally on the kinky blogsphere. I have loads of sites on RSS but get very few updates. Maybe it will improve after the summer and we will all have more time to write in the long winter evenings.
See you in the autumn!
Life is full of rituals: Church (Not that I subscribe to any religion, far from it) Freemasons (another group I shunned) School (I hate school role play) Parliament (Bunch of tossers here in the UK) are just a few that spring to mind.
So it may come as a bit of a surprise to learn that I have a thing for ritual play. I am not alone, chatting with some kinky friends over the weekend revealed that they all employ a certain amount of ritual in their play.
The school scene is an obvious example, and judicial punishments are another. But some folk have created their own elaborate rituals that they play and replay.
Which brings me to:-
TW has a book, several in fact, beautiful hand crafted with bound covers. Written in immaculate copper plate italic handwriting that is reminiscent of a medieval religious text. But these texts are as far in content from those medieval documents as you can get. She writes elaborate kinky stories and descriptions. The whole exercise is a ritual, describing rituals.
She has only shown me a few of these. I can’t describe them, she won’t let me. But they provide an insight as to what goes on in her head.
I have something similar, but mine are word documents and they are locked in an encrypted file on my Mac. No one has ever seen these, nor are they likely to. I cringe with embarrassment just mentioning them.
Writing out fantasies and stories appears to be quite common. Destroying them because the writer is ashamed or thinks that this is somehow wrong is also very common. (As it disposing of pornography collections and toy collections) I have deleted my files a few times myself and destroyed porn collections.
I suppose blogging is an extension of this private writing, hiding behind a pseudonym and letting the world see inside your head. It’s scary in here don’t you think?
The Duck Tape held me firmly.
The mouth was warm and wet, the tongue swirled gently over the glans.
“Was that nice?”
“Mnnnnn.” The gag precluded intelligible speech.
A soft hand gently stroked my erection.
“How long before you come do you think?”
“Mmmmnnn. NNNmmmm.”
“As long as that? It’ll hurt more if you come first.”
The thin whippy cane lay ready nearby.
“I think we can start with twelve strokes, then maybe a few more if you don’t grumble too much?”
“NNNmmmm. Mmmmnnn.”
“Oh dear you have made a mess! Ah well; better make it eighteen.”
The pleasure faded, the pain was about to begin.
The bindings were tight against my legs and hands.
“It’s going to be a long night…”
Let’s get a few things clear here. I am not saying I go around tying folk up and beating them against their will.
Unless they want me to of course, that’s different.
Sort of consensual non-consensual, if you see what I mean.
The Duck Tape held her firmly to the chair.
I pulled her knickers down and ran my fingernails across the cheeks of her bottom.
“Are you pleased you decided to come with me?”
“Mmmmm. Mnnnn.” The pacifier gag made her speech unintelligible.
“I’ll take that as a yes. So pleased we have a consensus.”
I fetched the thin whippy cane from my suitcase.
“I brought this just for you.” I swished the cane in front of her.
“MMMMNNNNNN!” “NNNNMMMMMM!!!”
“I knew you would be pleased. I thought we could start with six strokes quite hard and see how nicely you mark. What do you think?”
“MMMMNNNNNN!” “NNNNMMMMMM!!!”
“OK then; twelve it is!”
She struggled against her bindings.
“It’s going to be a long night…”
Inspired by a blog post from Naughty Eliot.
A guy fell asleep on the beach for several hours and got horrible sunburn, specifically to his upper legs. He went to the hospital, and was promptly admitted after being diagnosed with second-degree burns.
With his skin already starting to blister, and the severe pain he was in, the doctor prescribed continuous intravenous feeding with saline, electrolytes, a sedative, and a Viagra pill every four hours.
The nurse, who was rather astounded, asked, ‘What good will Viagra do for him, Doctor’?
The doctor replied, ‘It won’t do anything for his condition, but it’ll keep the sheets off his legs.’
I found this while looking (perving) at some HNT pictures!
Now, here’s what you’re supposed to do. . .
Copy and paste this into your blog, delete my answers, and type in your own answers.
1. You can ONLY answer Yes or No.
2. You are NOT ALLOWED to explain ANYTHING unless someone messages or comments you and asks. Believe me, the temptation to explain some of these will be overwhelming as nothing is exactly as it seems.
Been arrested? No
Kissed someone you didn’t like? Yes
Slept in until 5 PM? Yes
Ran a red light? Yes
Been suspended from school? No
Experienced love at first sight? No
Totaled your car in an accident? No
Been fired from a job? No
Fired somebody? No
Sang karaoke? No
Pointed a gun at someone? Yes
Done something you told yourself you wouldn’t? Yes
Caught a snowflake on your tongue? No
Kissed in the rain? Yes
Had a close brush with death (your own)? Yes
Seen someone die? No
Played spin-the-bottle? Yes
Smoked a cigar? Yes
Sat on a rooftop? Yes
Smuggled something into another country? No
Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? Yes
Broken a bone? Yes
Skipped school? Yes
Eaten a bug? Yes
Sleepwalked? No
Walked on a moonlit beach? Yes
Rode a motorcycle? Yes
Dumped someone? Yes
Lied to avoid a ticket? No
Ridden in a helicopter? No
Shaved your head? No
Made your boyfriend/girlfriend cry? Yes
Eaten snake? No
Marched/Protested? Yes
Had Mexican jumping beans for pets? No
Puked on an amusement ride? No
Seriously & intentionally boycotted something? Yes
Been in a band? No
Been on TV? Yes
Shot a gun? No
Skinny-dipped? Yes
Gave someone stitches? No
Ridden a surfboard? No
Drank straight from a liquor bottle? No
Had surgery? Yes
Streaked? Yes
Taken by ambulance to hospital? Yes
Passed out when not drinking? Yes
Peed on a bush? Yes
Donated Blood? No
Grabbed electric fence? No
Eaten alligator meat? No
Killed an animal when not hunting? Yes
Peed your pants in public? No
Snuck into a movie without paying? No
Written graffiti? No
Still love someone you shouldn’t? Yes
Been in handcuffs? Yes
Believe in love? Yes
Sleep on a certain side of the bed? Yes
Found on:- http://frenchiestories.wordpress.com/ and http://slaveisabellesjourney.blogspot.com/
The micro blogging service Twitter is very useful and I am big fan. I have multiple accounts.
The trouble is it’s quite addictive. Eliot points out in her recent blog post she is giving it up and I can quite see why.
It’s quite intrusive.
I have a vanilla account where I follow news and tech related stuff. I also have a kinky account where I follow kinky people and I have a third account for a project I was involved in. I just archived the third account.
I have decided to follow Eliot’s lead and cut down on Twitter. It’s time to stop following so many people. Take back the inbox so to speak.
I will still Tweet, but not as much.
Thanks for leading the way Eliot.
TW and I had a trip to Brighton a while back. We went for the World Naked Bike Ride, but we stayed on for a few days after as Brighton is a nice pervy place to stay.
We were in TW’s dinky RV and we were wild camping. (Boondocking as our American cousins would call it.)
We went up to Mill Hill and parked in a remote spot overnight.
It was very quiet and peaceful in the evening sunshine.
“Shall we go for a walk?” TW asked.
“If you like.”
“Let’s go naked!” she giggled “I dare you?”
“I am not sure naked is a good idea.” I could see us bumping into ‘Angry of Mayfair’. (See footnote.)
“We could take a pareo to cover up if we bump into anyone.” she suggested.
She rummaged in the closet and produced two pareos, a pink one and a grey one. They were translucent.
“They’re not going to conceal much.” I complained.
“We are not going to meet anyone, come on where is your sense of adventure.” She got undressed and stood waiting expectantly. “Come on get nekkiid we are going for a walk.”
So I got nekkid. We stepped out of the RV and locked it up. She put the key around her neck on a ribbon. We crossed the road and headed off up the footpath, hand in hand. I expected hoards of outraged puritans to descend at any moment.
“This is nice.” She commented. “Gentle breeze and warm sunshine.”
It was very pleasant and as as we got further from the road I relaxed a bit. The footpath was straight and we could see a long way ahead. The chances of meeting anyone was very slight.
We wandered along the path until we reached a T junction where the path met another road. There were some old farm buildings alongside.
“We should have brought a camera.” TW said.
“Next time maybe. Make a nice HNT setting.”
We turned around and retraced our footsteps. The sun was setting; we had a good view of the sunset as we walked down the hill towards the RV.
Back at the RV TW unlocked and we stepped inside. I was quite pleased to be ’safe’.
“See, we never saw a soul.” TW gave me a naughty look. “Next time nekkied, just our shoes and the camera.”
Footnote: Angry of Mayfair: A character on the Kenny Everett TV show:- A middle-class City gent complaining of the risqué content of the show, banging the camera with his umbrella, only then to be revealed as actually wearing women’s underwear. I searched the web to no avail for a video clip of this character; I am bitterly disappointed.
