Thursday, February 28, 2013

BOLD 2013

This past weekend we attended BOLD 2013, an MDHL conference. It was an amazing weekend in which we both had some amazing discoveries. Here are our observations from the event. We not only attended, we were volunteers at the conference, working as much if not more than we experienced the event, which was rewarding in and of itself.

MDHL Focus
First off, MDHL is Male Dominant Heterosexual Leather. It's more than a scene, it's indicative of a lifestyle and a movement. Getting a chance to bond at an event with couples that were like-minded M/s and D/s pairs was amazing. Sharing experiences of our journeys, of our progression and what we've experienced and learned was truly awe-inspiring.

Two full days of talks presented in three tracks: male/dom, couples and female/sub. Each track focused on the overall theme of this year's event, "Strong Men, Strong Women, Strong Relationships." The talks focused on that relationship aspect of D/s and M/s, encouraging better communication, stronger ties (not in terms of restraint, you pervs) and better, loving respect within the boundaries of a BDSM-based, D/s and M/s relationship. Just to hear people talk in terms of their own experiences and how much they paralleled our own was extraordinarily therapeutic and meaningful.

It was refreshing to hear other people's screw-ups, their fears, their successes and their dreams in terms of their dynamic with their subs / slaves / girlfriends / partners / wives. Strong couples spoke of their relationships, of the mutual respect they shared and the consensual aspects of their personal M/s dynamics.
To spend a weekend surrounded primarily by other who have, want, and need an MDHL relationship was incredibly affirming. I am, largely, comfortable with who I am, what I want and need, and the relationship I have with Craig. While the vanilla world (including family) no longer directly challenges us, our society does not support us either.

As Craig said, we volunteered at BOLD. Like many of the girls, I worked registration, the information desk, and as a room host. Despite the forbidding presence of so many men in leather (or perhaps in part because of it), I was approached several times by attendees of other conferences asking about our event. Most were unsatisfied with “BOLD” as a description, so I would add, “it’s a relationship conference.” This was enough to chase the vanilla men away, but it was also true.

BOLD was a weekend to focus on our relationship, to think about the aspects that work and the areas that could be improved. It wasn’t one remarkable speaker (there were many) or one defining moment (there were many of those as well). For me, BOLD was a reminder to focus on our D/s relationship every single day. We have a house full of family and chaos and real life, but in every glance and every touch, we have a wonderful, power-shifted relationship.
My Remarkable Moment A Defining Weekend
For me, it was the communing and bonding with men whom I respect and who have strong relationships with their subs / slaves / partners that was most remarkable for me. To learn that these "infallible" men had gone through transformative journeys not dissimilar to my own was the greatest revelation of the weekend. To learn of their trials and errors, their mistakes, their learning experiences.

All of which, when reading back over the post thusfar, seems very esoteric and New Age-y. I don't mean to sound like that. It's just so...hard to explain. Each of you, my Fellow Kinksters, have gone through your own journeys to come to where you are today in the lifestyle. More likely than not, you have navigated those waters more or less alone through trial and error, coming to where you are today. So imagine how refreshing it is when you meet people with like interests who've gone through what you've gone through and come out better on the other end. That's what I experienced, and it was so refreshing and eye-opening.
I’ve said BOLD was not one particular speaker or one significant discovery – it was an experience. I left BOLD knowing that I needed to focus on the D/s relationship I have and enjoy.

It’s easy for me to daydream about the future – when the kids go to college and start their own lives, when we finish this chaotic move, when Craig and I can focus on one another and engage in all the play we want. But I realized this weekend that the play, however much I love it, isn’t the most important part of our relationship. The power-shifted dynamic is what I want and need.

Regardless of the children, grandchild, moving stress, and anything else taking our attention, our dynamic is strong and important. It’s there when I run to meet him at the door and it’s there when I kiss him goodbye in the morning. It’s there when I answer “of course” to his requests. It’s there when he takes my hand, orders my meal at a restaurant, and when he captures my wrist. I need only focus on what we have, instead of the practical limitations that real life presents.
Something to Ponder BOLD 2014
Afterwards, I didn't want to leave. I had truly communed with people that felt like "my people," getting to know some of the people I knew as acquaintances quite a bit more. Both Lizzie and I shared similar experiences and feelings.

The Keynote speaker, Professor Bert Cutler, spoke of the dynamic of M/s relationships and even wrote his PhD thesis on the subject. You can find text of his speech here.

On the drive home, Lizzie and I talked about our progression and our journeys in the lifestyle and how our own dynamic went from play partners to a Dominant/submissive partnership to the Master/slave relationship we experience today. We talked about all we learned from the conference and how eye-opening it had been. To have been a part of it in some small way as volunteers only contributed to our valuing the experience.
I’m very excited about BOLD next year. I look forward to being immersed in that experience again, surrounded by those who understand the strength of MDHL. And I look forward to all the things I will see and learn. I even look forward to volunteering again, despite my shyness.

Craig and I used BOLD as an intensive “checking-in” on our relationship. I know from the discussions and stories I heard from others, that many other couples did the same. It’s a chance to reassess the relationship, what you want from it, what is working well, and what can be changed. But one of the most poignant moments for me last weekend came from an unpartnered, young woman. She realized over the weekend that she needed to work on herself first, to deal with as many issues and hangups as she could before finding that special partner. It was a powerful reminder that even within this dynamic, we must be responsible for ourselves as well as responsive to our partners.
A Bonus
On Saturday night I decided Lizzie needed a good strapping (what? as opposed to a bad one?). I pulled off my belt (she loves that--just the sound alone makes her transfixed), had her take off her clothes (not a difficult task) and had her place her hands on the bed, bent over. I doubled over my belt, took a few, slow practice moves to measure the distance, and set to strapping. After a few strokes I realized I was "in the zone." It was perfection. The angle. The strokes. The strike. The force. It all was happening. I even mumbled something, as I hit topspace, about being in the zone. Lizzie muttered agreement between exclamations of pain.

What I didn't mention to her was that, even though the geometry, telemetry and ergonomics were all there to make the perfect strapping happen, what was also happening was that, for some reason, as I swung through (thanks to the tutorial I got from Brit Paul Allen at last year's ShadowLane party!), I also was managing to have my belt flip around and whack me in the arm. I figured a little collateral damage was worth the price of a perfect strapping. (After all, I'd managed to beat myself up in various ways over the years, particularly when I was teaching myself how to use a 10-foot bullwhip and nearly tearing my own ear off!) The strapping done, Lizzie satisfied, we went to bed. Two days later, this is what showed up:



















...a lovely bruise on my forearm. Well, if that's what I had to endure for Lizzie's bliss, so be it. It was worth it. A perfect weekend and a perfect strapping. What more could a partner/lover/dom/top/master ask for?
Reading my description of BOLD, you might think this was an idyllic weekend. Unfortunately, that was not the case. On Friday night, back-to-back shifts at the information desk and registration, without dinner, (and on top of the absolute chaos at home) had me a sobbing mess. Craig ensured that I ate on Saturday and I was able to deal with the outgoing nature of my volunteer positions much better. But even with that care, I wasn’t up for going to the Lair Saturday night. Instead, Craig gave me a much needed strapping.

Craig’s belt can stop me in my tracks, even when he has no intention of using it on me. Living together, we’ve had several entertaining moments because he didn’t realize how powerful this was. I’ll stop in the midst of doing my hair if he unbuckles his belt to use the toilet – I’ll just turn slightly and stare at him, which he finds (inexplicably) disturbing. I mean, doesn’t every guy want to be stared at while they pull out their junk and use the…oh, right, probably not. But it’s those simple things – the rattle of the buckle, the whisper of leather across fabric, or the rasp of leather against denim. It’s like an electric shock delivered from across the room.

I probably need not even say that the reason for my fixation on his belt is the fact that I adore strapping. A good strapping takes me to subspace more quickly than anything else. And Craig delivered an amazing strapping Saturday night. I cannot begin to describe it because I was so quickly lost.

As Craig says, it was a perfect weekend and a perfect strapping. Even my Friday night meltdown and my Sunday migraine don’t take away from the incredible weekend we had. Or the profoundly simple takeaway from the weekend:

I want and need to appreciate our power-shifted dynamic, each and every day. We have a lovely future living alone together, that I can look forward to with great joy. But for now, we live in a house with the family I’ve chosen and come to love. I’ll not begrudge their presence or mourn the activities Craig and I cannot engage in with their company. Instead I’ll engage fully in the simple things we can do – the looks, the touches, the short silent scenes in our closet, the acquiescence that goes unnoticed, the submission that simply is.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Valentine's Day Review

Valentine's Day this year was a very special date for us. Our first Valentine's Day together! Lizzie hadn't experienced much in terms of celebration for this day over the years, so Craig decided to make sure all the appropriate trappings were in order. Red roses? Check. A red box of (non-dairy) candies? Check. Fancy dinner out? Check. Lizzie wasn't sure what to do, so she did something truly amazing...

Craig Lizzie
The first photo came through on my phone and I thought Lizzie had managed to find a nice picture on Google. I had no idea it was a photo of her hip, taken by Lizzie! It looked so professional!

Throughout the day, more photos came through, teasing me. I realized (of course!) that every picture was of her. I later learned that she was using the photo editing app, Camera+, that I had recommended ages ago.
I knew Craig was planning dinner out for Valentine’s Day. And he’s always amazing, finding gifts for such occasions. But he’s difficult to buy for.

I was discussing my Valentine’s Day lingerie shopping trip with my best friend. He suggested I take several pictures and send them to Craig during the day - as my Valentine’s Day gift. I was a little skeptical, but Craig response was better than I ever imagined.
Better than any greeting card or kinky e-card, each one revealed more and got more exciting as the day progressed.

Of course, when this one came through at the office, I almost fell out of my chair!
I took the pictures and started the morning off with photos of my evening outfit.

After finishing my day’s tasks, I settled in to the bathroom to prep for the evening. I decided to take a few more pictures.
Some more teasing, making it so I could hardly wait to get out of the office, get home and get on with my own devious plans (involving some well-timed erotic humiliation--I handed Lizzie a remotely controlled vibrating egg at our Valentine's dinner out and told her to insert it in the restroom. Of course, some real fun happened after that, but I think that's all for another blog post... I had time for one final picture before I got dressed for dinner. I knew the pictures had been a good idea when Craig told me he owed my friend a beer!

We headed out for a wonderful dinner. It was so lovely to have some time together, just enjoying our meal. Then Craig added some erotic humiliation play, always a favorite.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

50 Shades of Funny

On Tuesday night we went to see "SPANK! The Fifty Shades Parody," a three-person theatre show that lampoons both the novel itself and the lowbrow writing “stylings” of EL James.

His Hers
A few weeks ago I got a promotional email from Ticketmaster offering me tickets to go see something called “SPANK! The Fifty Shades Parody.” Tickets were cheap ($20) and it was nearby, so I forwarded the email to Lizzie and said, “Check this out.” Almost instantly I got a reply: “We should go!”

Without even reading reviews I bought the tickets. Hell, it was cheap and I figured, as a worst-case scenario, we’d have something fun to blog about.
I got an email from my best friend’s wife, including the ad for “SPANK! The Fifty Shades Parody.” She’s known about my kink for years, since I noticed she had Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty series listed among her favorite books on MySpace (an obvious sign that this disclosure took place six or seven years ago).

But I thought it sounded like fun, so I sent the email on to Craig. He made arrangements for us to attend the show (and forgot where he heard about it).
Arriving at the venue we noted a distinct ratio/demographic pattern to the crowd on hand: mostly women (like an 80/20 ratio), mostly over 40, many on an obvious “girl’s night out.” At the bar in the lobby many cosmos and something called a “Spanktini” were being ordered over a lot of giggling.

You might have read a couple posts from Yours Truly that appeared on my blog, Dark Musing, a while back about 50 Shades of Grey, but I have to admit, I never read the book. Between Lizzie’s accounting of its mediocre writing and the author’s clear lack of research on the subject plus Erica’s own acerbic comments on it and plenty of other articles I read of the “phenomenon” I felt I knew enough that I could appreciate the humor. After all, there’s nothing worse than a parody with no reference to the source material. Still, I was game.
Even in the parking lot, I could see that Craig was not in the show’s demographic. I would guess women outnumbered men at least 10 to 1. Over intermission, I discovered that the venue was prepared for this - they had a sign over the men’s room door declaring it to be a women’s restroom for the evening (only one of the men’s rooms was available for men’s use).

The drink specials for the night: Faded Blue Jeans (a shot with rum, blue curacao, and pineapple) and Spanktini (a martini with rassmatazz, vodka, lime, and sweet and sour).

We skipped the specials and ordered red wine. I wish we could have tried the drinks, goofy as they were, but my high fructose corn syrup intolerance/allergy simply wouldn’t allow it.
“SPANK! The Fifty Shades Parody” is a three person show with no set, just a few props and a couple of chairs. The story revolves around fictional writer E.B. Janet, a lonely fourtysomething housewife with a libido the size of a Mac truck. She monologues about being a famous fan fiction writer and decides—with her husband and two boys out of town for the weekend—that she’ll set off to write a book... “maybe even a trilogy!”

As she writes, the characters come to life on stage, conjured by her writing and imagination. At times, the actor playing E.B. Janet even takes on tertiary character roles as the story unfolds. The other two characters are Tasha Woode and Hugh Hanson, and if you’re a 50 Shades fan, I’m sure you can guess who they are supposed to be.

Over the next three hours (including an intermission that allowed time for all the housefraus to refill their Spanktinis) EL James and her novel are skewered mercilessly—and it’s hilarious!

James is played as clueless horndog who stumbles into every aspect of her writing. Her characters in the parody are presented as one-dimensionally as they do in the books (or so I’m told), to hilarious results. Tasha at one point even refers to herself as a “blank slate” while Hugh is a grinning Chippendale stereotype that only a bored homemarm could create.

She writes and writes, guzzling from an endless supply of cheap chardonnay to fuel her “sexy fantasies.” Hugh and Tasha cavort on stage. Much of the action is specific to scenarios in the book, so I’d often lean in to Lizzie to get some context to what everyone was laughing about, but most of the time it was self explanatory.

(Side note: evidently I asked Lizzie enough times what was going on that the couple sitting next to us asked us to quiet down. Really? People are hooting at the simulated fisting on stage and I need to quiet down?)
Unlike Craig, I read Fifty Shades of Grey. It’s horribly written, but I found the sex scenes decent enough to keep reading (which isn’t saying much, I’ve read some horrible smut).

There were several items pulled straight from the books that were so unbelievable that Craig would lean over and ask me about them.

Tasha is a 22-year-old, physically perfect virgin who sees these attributes as having no value? Sure, just the typically insecure beautiful woman.

She goes to interview this fabulously rich man and asks if he’s gay? Yes. [Admittedly, this required a great deal of explanation because this unlikely meeting was not well explained in the show...or the book.]

He has her sign a nondisclosure agreement? Standard practice in the BDSM community, right?

And a contract listing hard- and soft-limits for both parties? Naturally. Everyone wants to play with someone who comes with an instruction manual.

That contract is pages long? Of course. (Where are we?)

He takes her in a helicopter on their first date? Yes, the book is as much wealth porn as it is kinky porn.

Hugh’s character is played by Patrick Whalen. The program gives a wonderful introduction to this fellow: “With his first year working in burlesque, Patrick (Patastrophic Sexapeel) won Best New Male Performer in Strip Search 2010 and was asked to join Boylesque, Canada’s premier all-male burlesque troupe.” His introductory scene / dance lived up to the hype.

The interaction between the writer and her one-dimensional main character is hilarious. Any time Tasha questions something, the author shuts her down, vaguely waving her hands about as if she is some kind of (slightly deranged) fairy godmother.
The best parts of the show undoubtedly were the songs. Famous songs, mostly from Broadway musicals, were used to great effect with truly humorous new lyrics that furthered the action, the characters’ own inner monologues or just to continue to skewer the whole damn thing. This got both Lizzie and I thinking about Erica and her song parodies. (Afterward, Lizzie said, “We should have come with Erica and John. They would have loved this.” She was so right.)

The best song of all was a parody of “Modern Major General” from The Pirates of Penzance, sung by Hugh when he informs Tasha he’s a real dommy dominant. (Sample lyric: “I am the very model of a kinky spanking dominant.” Or something like that.) I was rolling at that and other songs.

Time went quickly. Though obviously every expense was spared for the production (even the programs were one-sided, folded 8.5” x 11” pieces of paper) the show was truly a blast and worth every bit of the two Andrew Jacksons we paid, and more! Though it certainly would have helped to have at least read the book, let alone be a fan, it still worked. Well done. I can’t recall anything in modern pop culture that didn’t deserve a skewering more. After all, Jar-Jar Binks and Episode I have already been beaten to death, so why not EL James?
I have to agree that the songs were the best part of the show. Songs from Broadway musicals and pop culture were brilliantly rewritten with new lyrics. They did an amazing job finding music that fit the scene and writing lyrics to parody the book.

At some point during the show, I leaned back and told Craig (between other random story related explanations) that I wished we had thought to invite Erica and John. Erica has written some great posts about the book. She writes hilarious song parodies as well. And we certainly could have used some company at our table who understood just how laughable the storyline of the books is! There were plenty of things we found hilarious that the crowd, presumably primarily vanilla, failed to appreciate.

Time flew as we watched the show. I wish Craig had read the book, because I’m sure there were references I failed to point out. And I really wish I had a soundtrack, because that was by far the best part of the show.

Rarely would I say that a show is better than a book. But this show beat the book a million times over. Overall, a very enjoyable evening.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Timeline: Lair

Since we typically write our scene descriptions in narrative fashion we thought we’d switch it up a bit and write this one as a timeline. It's still presented from each of our perspectives, of course. Let us know what you think!

Craig Lizzie
We knew we were going to the Lair on Friday. I had a meeting there. But things have been so busy I couldn’t ask my usual, “So, what do you want/need?” with regard to the scene. Lizzie asked her usual: “What would you like me to wear?” I was a blank. Not a good start.

It got to be Friday and we still were no closer to having it figured out. “I’m going to surprise you,” was what I got in a text from her. I was intrigued.
Craig was in his meeting, so I sat outside with the girls. We talked about babies and poopie diapers, all of which seemed very disconnected from our surroundings. Girls trickled in and our conversation shifts to more “expected” topics. We discussed various types of strap-on dildos. Someone mentioned a feeldoe, which she couldn’t visualize working. I admitted that I have one and that I haven’t had much success with it. Soon we were debating whether the problem is the physical challenge of the strap-on/dildo/feeldoe or our own physical ineptness with having a cock.

I think we decided it was a combination, but mostly the fault of having different body configuration. Girls hips aren’t built to move in the same way. But I was getting distracted, checking my phone for the time.
My meeting went until almost 9, at which time the Lair was ready to open for business (if you can call it that). When I came out, Lizzie was gone, getting ready for our scene and changing from her dinner to fetish clothes. I wandered back toward the kitchen, finding her in one of the play rooms changing. Not wanting to ruin her surprise outfit, I left to wait.

When she came out, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. She was wearing a white and black corset with a tiny mini skirt and stockings. As she came to stand next to me and join the conversation I was having with another couple, I casually reached down to touch her bottom beneath her skirt and discovered she wasn’t wearing panties.
Craig said I didn’t need to change until 8:30, but I started a little early. I was nervous about changing into my “surprise” outfit. I wanted him to find me changed, sitting out with the girls. That didn’t work out.

I started changing in the bathroom, but it’s just a small residential type bathroom, not designed for changing. I went to the room off the kitchen and started changing, heedless of the open doors to the kitchen and bedroom and the open windows to outside. That’s right - I’m shy, not modest.

I could tell the meeting was over because a few of the men had wandered through the kitchen and the room where I was changing. It’s possible that I saw a few of them more times than could be explained by their errands, or maybe they kept forgetting what it was they were doing.

Then Craig came through the kitchen, looking at me through the open door. I waved him off. I wasn’t nearly dressed.
Lizzie and I chatted for a bit, and then she suggested we take some pictures (for the blog, of course!). We went to the front of the Lair (because cameras aren’t allowed once inside) and we shot some pics in the reception area.

A woman sitting there eyed Lizzie appreciatively and commented on how she looked and how lucky I was to have such a lovely girl. I couldn’t have agreed with her more.
I went outside to find Craig. I found him talking to a couple we enjoy. I went over and joined them. The conversation was interesting, comparing experiences with various kink groups.

Craig and I slipped out front to snap a few pictures. Cameras aren’t allowed in the Lair, but we wanted some pictures to share with our readers.

As we wandered, occasionally someone would comment on my outfit. Craig showed me off - having me turn around or bend over. I love that!
I knew exactly what I wanted for our scene, having packed the specific tools and implements before we left. We went into the main room and I honed in on a padded, stepped bench, beginning to set up. With no one else really in the room (it was early), I snuck out my camera and took a few more shots of Lizzie’s hot ass as she bent over to clean the play furniture. We went into the main room, finding a spot. Craig set out his implements while I cleaned off the bench he had selected. We were experimenting with positions on the bench when Craig wanted to take another picture.

It was early, so there was only one man in the room with us. Craig asked if the guy would mind if we took a couple pictures; he wouldn’t be in any of them.
It was time to begin. With the implements out on my customary white towel, I sat on the bench and pulled Lizzie across my lap and began with a spanking, folding up her mini skirt to gain access to her beautiful bottom. I spanked her like this for a while, then pulled her skirt all the way up and spanked her further before unzipping it and pulling it down around her ankles. We started OTK, with Craig sitting on the bench. Craig soon slipped out from under me and had me standing, bent over the bench.

He took my skirt off and continued to spank me. Soon my dangling garters got in his way, so he removed them.

We had attracted something of a crowd, even playing this early. Craig kept my attention, though, ramping the scene up quickly.
I had the Black Hornet next to me on the bench, so I grabbed it and began smacking her bottom. She hates the Black Hornet, a small, textured black leather paddle that’s all sting, no thud.

Soon I had her off my lap and bent over, presenting her bottom to me. I pulled out a newer acquisition—a wood paddle about the width of a paint stirrer, but thicker. A couple swats of the paddle and I could tell Lizzie was tensing up from the implement. I sensed it might not be to her liking. I checked in with her, sensed her tension and decided to move on.
Craig started in with a paddle. By the third swat, I was seriously considering calling the scene. But I took a deep breath, spread my legs a bit further apart, and shifted from my hands to my forearms.

The paddle was horrible, and awful, and painful. My legs would give out and Craig would pause to insist that I stand up again. I slid further forward on my forearms, sliding under the back of the bench. Craig warned me not to hit my head when I got up, but he did not stop using the paddle.
I spanked her with my hand and then got out four plexiglass canes which I used, two in each hand, to smack her bottom as I crouched on the floor to be a the right height. I used the canes all over her body, heightening her sensation. I used another implement, made up of a cluster of rods, but as I whacked at her bottom one of the rods came loose and went flying across the room! By then we had an audience. All I could think of was the line from A Christmas Story: “You’ll poke your eye out!” The rest of the spanking is something of a blur as a result of the paddling. I noticed when Craig broke an implement, because part of it went flying across the room. We’ve broken a very similar implement in the past. I guess we aren’t meant to use rods clustered together.

But it made me giggle and brought me back a little bit. Craig was using canes lightly now, sensation play as he transitioned from the heavy beating to something else.
Her skin awakened, I was ready for the next phase of the scene. I stood Lizzie up and undressed her, then put her on the bench facing me, her back against the stepped up piece in the back. I pulled out a roll of thick adhesiveless tape and began to bind her wrists to the furniture, restraining her in a seated position.

I spread her legs and began to smack her with a stingy, super thin plastic cane. I ran it up her inner thighs, up her belly and across her breasts.
Craig had me stand up and he removed the rest of my clothing. He had me sit back on the bench (ouch!) and put my hands up against the side posts. He brought out a huge red roll of tape and taped my wrists to the posts.

He tried a blindfold, but my contacts were not happy with that plan. So we set it aside after a short discussion of how it needed to be different. He had me lay back and spread my legs. Then he started in with a whippy little cane, smacking my legs, inner thighs, tummy, and breasts.
With Lizzie whimpering and crying, I went into my bag and brought out a baggie of clothespins and put them on her nipples to start, but that was too much, so I took them off and moved them to her areolas, punishing her with four clothespins per breast. I added a few to the folds in her armpits for good measure.

Lizzie squirmed and whined, so to get her gain her attention, I smacked her face and grabbed a handful of hair, focusing her.

Then I moved lower, putting clothespins on her pussy lips. I covered them with the clips, then grabbed one more and held it up to her face, forcing her to focus on it. I reached down then, putting the remaining clip on her clit.
Craig got clothespins out. I was wimpery and not excited about the prospect. I squirmed around as much as my bonds allowed me. Craig grabbed my hair and smacked my face until I settled down.

He soon had them clamped around my breasts, under my arms, and between my legs. Midway through, I was pouting at him and he pulled my lower lip out and clamped a pin on it. When he’d finished putting clips on my pussy lips, he reached for the clip on my lower lip.

“You know where this goes?” he growled.

I knew the only place he would put a single clip, but all I could do was agree. He teased my clit before clamping the clothespin on it.
I stood back to admire my work, then brought out a whip and begin to lightly whish the tail along the tips of the clothespins, driving her to new heights of pain. I moved to flicking the whip, smacking the leather on the tips of the wooden clothespins.

I’m careful to keep duration in mind when I have clothespins in place. During a scene it’s easy to lose track of time, and I won’t do that with clothespins. I removed them and Lizzie nearly screamed out as they came off.

Soon the scene was over and Lizzie was wrapped in my arms. Exhausted, we packed up and said our goodnights and headed out, another wonderful scene at the Lair complete.
With all the clothespins in place, he started teasing me. He used his fingers to flick the clamps. He pulled a flogger across my skin, catching the pins and pulling them among the falls.

Too soon, he was removing the pins and flogging me. He left the clothespins on my pussy for last. Removing them, as always, is more painful than having them put in place.

Craig held me for a long time because I was very much a “limp-noodle”. Eventually, we cleaned up and I crawled back into a change of clothes. We headed out to enjoy a late dinner together.