Tuesday Teasing for Mr. Wildcard

Ah, Punish Tuesday!

It is a lovely day that was set up by none other than the delightful Miss Pearl, Dominant Lady Extraordinaire (in this town she’s Kink Royalty). It is a day she has set up with her Gentleman Nemesis to satisfy her kinky urges, and because scheduling in regular kink sessions seems to help with anxiety and whatnot. It is an inspired idea, and one that I have admittedly taken up with my subby-hubby as well.

Source: http://au-oui.tumblr.com/post/144540708220

“Wanna Come Over for Tuesday?”

Subby-hubby was tired on Tuesday. I was left with no one to punish. Dejected, I took a nap after work.

When I woke up, there was a message in my inbox. It was from Mr. Wildcard, and, as he is in all his interactions, very direct and to the point. “Wanna come over for Tuesday?” I could hardly believe what I was reading. Was I, switch and newbie Dom, really being invited by the Royal Couple to join them in a scene? Remember, this wasn’t in a play party context. I was delighted at the invitation, but also trepidatious. I had never played one-on-one like that before.

But subby-hubby was late coming home from work anyway and he kept complaining about tiredness, so I happily obliged. I asked when I should join them. The response was as succinct as ever: “8:30.”

I hastily dressed, but had a dilemma: should I dress for subbing, or Domination? Nothing had been determined in the messages. I chose to wear some nice lingerie (the only one not yet packed up for my upcoming move) and over that I wore a blue shirt and mini circle skirt. Versatile.

Eight thirty crept up on me quickly and I left. Continue reading

Thirty Days Of Kink – Start –

So, I found this neat little questionnaire on another blog I follow: Anonymouskinky posted this Thirty Days Of Kink “meme” and I’ve decided it is a fun way to have a couple of blog posts that aren’t painfully afflicted with Real-Life-itis. Because, sadly, Real Life is currently taking its toll on me. This Dom is very, very tired. I am hoping to get my game back on by the end of the week, but this is some casual blogging fun in the meantime…

Thirty Days of Kink

-DAY ONE-

Dom, sub, switch? What parts of BDSM interest you? Give us an interesting in-depth definition of what that means to you. Basically define your kinky self for us.

I am a Dominant, sometimes Switch.

I enjoy the Switch part because, honestly, I am a sucker for the rush of endorphins and it allows me to release the inner Brat. The Brat is strong in me, but she does not get to come out much when I Dom. She comes out sometimes in my Dominant moments as this very playful, kind of mischievous creature, but she is difficult to control and that’s usually when I accidentally do something that is not all that enjoyable to my sub. So I prefer keeping her in check by keeping her to my submissive moments. She is really fun to release though! I would also be lying if I said I was not a total masochist – see endorphins above.

But why do I associate more to the Dominant side if I enjoy being submissive (and pain) so much? Because if there is one thing I like more than that, it is control. I am a control freak over every last aspect in my life – so much so that when things are out of my control, I fall into Anxiety and get panic attacks. It is a slippery road, to be honest.  Continue reading

A Walk With Miss Pearl

A few days back, the weather was glorious, and I got invited to go on a walk along the water with Miss Pearl.

Over the short time that I have known her (barely half a year, really), I have come to regard Miss Pearl as a close friend whom I can trust and share things with in a way that I never had in a friendly relationship before. Most friends I have had in the past would violently flail and make gagging sounds if kink was mentioned in any shape or form. Add to that the fact that I have trust issues as deep as the Marianas Trench and you’ve got a recipe for an antisocial recluse – which I sort of am. So I am very grateful for Miss Pearl’s ability to coax me out of my burrow and – sometimes under protest – into the real world. (Not the real world!! The light; it burns us. I will melt!)

She is, also, partly responsible for my return to the bosom of the Kink community. Truth be told, I view Miss Pearl as a friend and mentor when it comes to Kink. She has more experience with the world of BDSM than I and her advice is pure gold. And that advice, dear Internet, is something I feel the urge to share with you.

I am lucky to boast a phenomenal auditory memory and I can frequently quote people verbatim ac litterarim months, even years, later. It is a useful skill for my theatre projects to say the least… But I digress.

So, on our walk by the waterfront, Miss Pearl and I naturally stumbled upon the topic of Femdom, as we are wont to do on such occasions. Of course, in a conversation about Domination, we inevitably ended up speaking of the submissive men in our lives and what buttons to push to get them off.

And this is where Miss Pearl’s advice, while absolutely valuable, also turned to a pure comedy chef-d’oeuvre. You see, Miss Pearl has a way with the spoken word (also reflected in her writing) that  would probably make Jane Austen envious. (I was going to say she could rival Shakespeare, but I fear the Theatre Gods might strike me down if I were to suggest such a thing.)

As we mention our respective gentlemen’s “buttons,” Miss Pearl says to me: ‘When I give blowjobs I like to sing the “Farmer Bingo” song in my head.’

For a moment, I had to ask her what song she meant. Having grown up in a German language household, I could not recall the song. So Miss Pearl sang the first few chords to me. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be horrified: it was exactly the silly ditty I thought she meant!

I had to stop dead in my tracks and burst out laughing. Miss Pearl looked at me with a huge grin. ‘What?’ she asked. ‘It’s got the perfect rhythm to suck a guy off. And if you breathe based on the song and its rhythm, it will prevent you from accidentally vomiting all over the guy’s lap.’ And Miss Pearl began to sing the song again, moving her head back and forth to mime a bj. I believe I might have been crying of laughter at this point.

After I had regained my breath for a bit, I asked her if that song also worked for handjobs.

‘No,’ she told me. ‘When it comes to handjobs, all men are special snowflakes. Some, like [Wildcard], require a lot of care and are all about special handgrips to be able to orgasm from a handjob. Others like it if you treat their cock like a bottle of Snapple juice…’ She paused then added: ‘If you really hated that Snapple.

I had to giggle and asked her what she meant, as the imagery this conveyed to my mind was pure hilarity. ‘Well,’ she elaborated, ‘you just firmly grasp that bottle of Snapple and angrily shake it until you get a result.’ Delightfully irreverent as Miss Pearl is, she actually mimed the motion as well.

But for bjs, the Bingo song works to get a guy off every time, no matter the man,’ she concluded.

We then moved on to a plethora of other topics (our walk did last two hours), but that specific advice stuck with me. It was simply too brilliant not to share.

And guess what I will have to try next time I take my gentleman to bed? *nudge, nudge, wink, wink*

When In Doubt, Improvise!

If my stage combat teacher knew I encourage improvisation, I think she would kill me. Her advice was always: in a situation where someone might get hurt, never, ever, improvise! There is just one problem: I do not own a flogger.

I need one in my arsenal. I WANT one in my arsenal. But I am far too broke to afford one any time soon. So, what’s a girl to do?

After a long and pleasant walk with Miss Pearl, my House-husband greeted me at the door, naked. He was clearly begging for a scene. Having neglected to cum the previous night, he was in for a beating. I thought that I wanted to use a different hitting implement than my usual ones. This thought stayed with me the entire time I was dishing out his warm up (bare hands, to the beat of the songs that are stuck in my head at the time… unluckily for him, it was ‘Zorba the Greek‘).

As I spanked his buttocks to a healthy pink glow, I thought more than anything about that flogger that I wanted. And then it hit me (pun intended): I had some random stuff in my craft room I could use instead!

Source: http://www.cb2.com/artificial-grass-bunch/s580671
Source: http://www.cb2.com/artificial-grass-bunch/s580671

Indeed, a few weeks prior, I had purchased a bunch of Dollar Store plants – you know, those artificial, clearly plastic abominations? – for an art project. They did not end up getting used in the end. Among them, there was a bushel of long grass, or reeds, or whatever they are meant to be. In other words, I had a lot of long plastic strands in a bunch (even with a handy handle) that could sting like the devil if used properly. Continue reading