I haven’t spent ANY time talking about my trek to see sofia…okay maybe a wee bit there, but I haven’t spent much time talking about ALSO meeting fiona…which was truly a blast. (and she now knows how very easy it is for me to get tipsy. And that I’ve not been in a bar in over 37 years. See? Truly a “vanilla” mom.)
Not only is she sweet and funny and sexy and saucy, but our fiona is a giver. She gave both sofia and I a goodie bag (and I do mean goodies…chocolate. oh my gawd..nom nom nom!) And what do good kinky subsisters also give one another?
Oh, you can’t see them? How bout this one?
Isn’t it the cutest little pervertable? There are little glimmer-y “jewels” and that sweet owl just sitting there and taking it all in. But wait — there’s more! There’s *this* one:
It says (that wise old owl): DO MORE OF WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY
See? It’s a perfectly executed vanilla-into-sub gift. The kind of thing that fiona is amazing at. I wore them Tuesday evening when I got my weekly orgasm…and okay, they’re not alligator clamps…but after about 15 minutes? It doesn’t matter. They still bite. They still give that delicious wonderful naughty painful boost that makes an orgasm just shudder through me.
There is more to share about my time with sofia and fiona…I don’t know if there are words to encapsulate that kind of experience, really. It’s beyond fun to meet up with fellow bloggers, let alone other people who are normal outside but freaky on the inside. To know that a gift box could contain chocolate–and pain pins. To be able to talk openly about the need for spankings, or being pegged into a closet by ones nipples, or being tied to a rock with only enough rope to be able to reach (and fetch) coffee for one’s Dom. To sit in the kitchen drinking tea and not even blink at having to step over said rope on the floor to get the milk out of the fridge.
It’s a gift.
Rare, like diamonds. A kinship of kink, perhaps. We have differing needs, but share the need for submission, passion, pain. The levels of those may vary within each of us, (I know my need for pain is more than sofia’s…but her need to be controlled is greater than mine). I can’t do day-to-day D/s, while my two subsisters weave it into their lives beautifully.
We’re all different. But we’re all kinky.
It all goes to the idea that there isn’t a “wrong” way to do this thing we do. This fascinating dance of giving our control up to another, of allowing–no–craving/needing/wanting/–them to hurt us in order to give us pleasure. The acceding of control (and in some cases, rights).
There was a moment in sofia’s kitchen on the day I was to leave. The kitchen trash was full and I was about to change it.
“No!” Sofia says in her soft twang.
“No?” (I’m chief trash changer at my house)
“No, that’s Sir’s job. I’m not allowed to change that. One of His rules.”
She pauses a moment, then attacks her keyboard.
“There,” she says, her eyes alight with pleasure, “I just asked him if you could change it.”
Right there in that moment she was living the dream. I don’t know if she really got it, felt it…because it was “situation normal” for her. But *I* saw it, as an outside observer. That glow in her eyes. The small happy smile on her face. He was at work but still exerted control over her choices. She would no more have gotten up to change the trash than run naked up the main street of her community. It just wouldn’t be done.
In a few minutes, His reply came back.
“No, she may not.”
Four powerful words that emphasized the role of D/s in their household. Not only was I a guest in their home, but I was a submissive guest. This is the beauty of visiting with others who do this wicked thing we do. To see it, feel it in a different yet powerful way. Whether clothes pins inviting me to “do more of what makes you happy”, or a “no she may not” — it’s all part and parcel of a submissive get-together.
I couldn’t have been more happy.