There was a question in that place and I’m gonna be Aunty Impy ‘beams’and be all helpful and stuff

.. how does a submissive assert her needs?erm… you know… just like i would in any relationship? or within my role as a submissive? (how???) or … it depends how it all comes up?

And then I see this answer…
Hopefully you have a dom that will allow for a little bit of a time out so you can talk about needs and expectations respectfully but as equals.

Seriously?

I’m gonna leave the ‘equals’ bit out of it cause I know plenty of dynamics that the word equal doesn’t come into it. And I don’t personally have an issue with that. People decide how they do stuff and that’s fine by me. But the other part? It irks me. Allow for a little time so you can talk?

Any relationship needs a level of good sound communication. Being able to talk to one another about everything and anything IS important. To even contemplate not being able to discuss things in an adult manner when they arise and instead choose to be a dumbass and not talk about stuff is plain silly. Brains do not fall out of your arse when you decide to submit.

And this one …

I have met a few subs and slaves, who when I meet them or start talking to them I ask them to call me Sir. I have been told you havnt earned that respect yet. I dont get this Im not asking you to submit Im just asking to be addressed properly, this reply I get seems disrespectful. When I hear you havnt earn that its a huge put off, Im not asking you to kneel or being rude when asking, if you have ever been in the south Sir and Ma’am are expected no matter age, lifestyle or not. I dont think its that crazy to ask and little things like the subs/slaves who say Sir without being asked get huge respect from me.

‘blinks’

Gosh. Well for a start you are on an international site so the chances of expecting everyone to call you Sir just cause you expect it is a little obnoxious. There are a fuckton of people who have never been to the ‘South’ and it’s not part of their own cultural upbringing. Here down near the Antarctic where the penguins do their thing we generally address people by their names. Re reading that it seems a case of I AM DOM HEAR ME ROAR.

Do you go up to random people and demand they call you Sir? I’d like to see you do it here at a public event in my neck of the woods.

Same applys on the interwebz. It’s not really about the fact that you haven’t earnt it … it’s more like you are living in a cute little bubble of fantasy and someone’s come along and shoved a pin in it and now you have a megaton of holes in your bubble and you can’t work out why it keeps happening.

Try this … I betcha it’ll work….

Hi I’m *insert normal everyday name here*. I would love to chat some more if you are interested.

But then I’m warped. I get messages like …

I’ve been stalking you for ages and I just wanted to tell you that you would look awesome all tied up and kept under my stairs in the basement.

‘grins’

And last but least for today … one of the most asked questions …

I was just curious who was willing to say what their safeword is and why.

Mine is ‘fuck yew’ … and for the record it doesn’t work.

So yeah … tag team domming.

It’s MEAN!

I have sore ears from gloating about contemplating being mean and using the wonderful powers of blackmail with a friend who is in cahoots with he who is sadistic to me. Result? I had my ears twisted and squished until my eyes were involuntarily watering and my ass was on the floor. Then the mean fucker made me say the damn ‘S’ word.

I had a wee pout on the floor for a few seconds until I heard him mutter something about sending pictures to the other person. Up I got and was gone, hiding and pouting.

Basically I have to be nice and not call my friend names or the big ol’ meanie who is relatively close to me most of the time is allowed to unleash the hands of doom and correct my unruly behaviour.

I HAZ A POUT!

I haven’t behaved like this is … ummm .. fuck I have no idea how long it’s been.

All I know is it’s weird this behaving thing.

I’m gonna IMPLODE.

So basically I’m not allowed to call him ‘buttercup’ or anything else that he deems not okay. I’m also not allowed to use the info I have to blackmail him into being nice. Which basically sucks balls cause I could and it would be funny but at the expensive of my arse. And if I do he tells … damn text messaging.

But buttercup is a term of endearment ‘nods’

I figure writing about it isn’t entirely bad, I’m just talking about it and brain dumping cause this is my journal and as with life there are always LOOPHOLES.

No one said I couldn’t write ….

‘beams’

I want you to grab a fistful of my hair.

Make my eyes water.

Lead me.

I want you to slam me against that wall, press your body up against mine.

Make me stare into those dak eyes.

Yes those ones.

Him.

I want you to focus my attention on you.

Squeezing and twisting my nipples until they harden under your fingertips.

I want you to show me pain and lust and cause my cunt to become wet with desire and need.

I want your filthy words to permeate my skull.

I want you to taste me with your teeth.

Pull at my flesh until my knees become weak and my hips buck towards yours.

I want you to turn me into your filthy little slut.

I want you to wash over me.

I want release.

I need you

to

fuck

me

So it begins.

There’s an eerie quiet but a comfortable one. I can feel the love in the room. There is also apprehension mingled with a sense of excitement and a measure of sick puppy thrown into the mix. There is something about blood and needles and hooks that is beyond hot. it’s erotic in its own unique way. Fleeting glimpses of “oh my god, fuck, I’m doing this” and “Bring it on motherfucker”. Rapture.

The skin is cleaned, measured, everything precise and calculated. It’s like watching surgery. I twitch. All eyes are focused. A gleaming lone hook guided by precise hands meets flesh. It is then I see it, that moment of ecstasy mingled with pain. Pushing through the barrier of mind to somewhere else. It intrigues me to no end to watch and receive. There is nothing quite like the moment where the cold steel pierces flesh and takes you to a place no one else knows unless they have been there themselves.

The journey begins.

Pauses. Deep breaths. Pushing through the pain to get to the other side of euphoria. It is beautiful to gaze at the hooks and needles living in the flesh of the willing cushion. The blood trickles and for a fleeting moment there is an urge, to taste the blood, to feel it. Hungry. More pain, adrenalin rushing through the veins, eyes glazed. Smiles.

The moment of questioning, flesh begins to pull and stretch. The human body is capable of much more than we give it credit for. I watch, in awe part envy. Stretching and pulling. I hear the breathing I see the pain and the warrior heart inside battling the mind. Anticipation, right on the edge of flying and then the feet leave the ground. I hear the agony, the joy, the ride and I revel. My heart puffs in pride, in awe of the brave spirit.

It is not hurting oneself it is finding oneself through a journey. There is beauty to be found.

It is only in pain and ecstasy that we really find ourselves.

.. had those moments where you are in a completely different environment, you don’t know anyone that well but well enough to be there yet for some strange reason it feels utterly right and totally normal that you should be there? That those you are with feel like old friends?

Well I did. Man it was just surreal, and feeling very privliged to be part of something that I can only describe as observing a warriors journey, a journey into the self. To be there, immersed in that world, everything else disappeared, just then and there.

And the weirdest part is normally I’m in there, usually it’s me in those wild fucked up spaces, the places we push ourselves and disappear into. Pain, endorphins, the rush, the euphoria.

This time I was on the outside looking in. It was the most strangest feeling I have had in a long time. Odd because I didn’t get my fix. And strange because until now I had no idea I was craving it so bad. And the most fucked up part, getting a huge kick out of loving being there and riding the journey with them.

I want to thank those that allowed me to be a part of that. It’s something I will always carry. The emotions that washed over all of us made it a very special weekend.

What a fucking awesome weekend.
Love you guys xxxx