Thursday, June 27, 2013

Kinky Picnic

We went to the Southern California Leather Gathering annual picnic this last weekend. A bunch of different leather/kink groups from all over SoCal were there and we had a great time. Great weather, good friends and a nice social environment.

Lizzie and I arrived at the regional park wondering where the picnic was. We were directed to a fenced in area of roughly two acres in the middle of a busy, public park. We found this amusing as it was like we were animals in a cage, put there for the protection of the vanilla parkgoers, but it was a great afternoon with a bunch of groups represented--straight, gay, pansexual--in all kinds of kink.

As we hung out enjoying the atmosphere and activity (including a double-headed dildo toss for distance and accuracy) Lizzie and I noticed a group next to ours that were dressed in quasi-Girl Scout uniforms with merit badge sashes.

We introduced ourselves to the “troop leader” who told us about their mostly female D/s group. As they say on their website (dommescout.wix.com), they don’t take themselves too seriously. I think this was most notable by their troop patch/logo and salute:

Best of all were the merit badges. I said to Lizzie, “It’d be awesome if they had kinky merit badges.” And sure enough, they did!

As with most occasions, this one started with the question: What does one wear to a kinky picnic held in a public park? The needs of my fair skin won out - I wore my SPF50 shirt, complete with long sleeves and a brilliant yellow color. But I enjoyed the variety of “street legal” outfits other kinksters had come up with for the event.

But the quasi-Girl Scout uniforms caught and held my attention. I’m a lifetime Scout (Gold Award and all), so I pestered Craig until we went over to have a look at their banner. Of course, upon seeing the poster, we had to seek permission to post a picture here. The leaders quickly agreed, if they could be included in our picture.

We enjoyed talking with the scouts and learned that these merit badges are available online. You can get your own at kinkymeritbadges.com.



The atmosphere of the picnic was great - very laid back, lots of socializing, games, and fun. We ate our picnic lunch and shared the cookies I’d made. Craig sampled other shared items (with my food issues, I didn’t bother). A lovely way to spend the afternoon.
Once we got home I was feeling quite toppy, all that leather and brotherhood cameraderie rubbing off on me in the warm Southern California sunshine, I decided to give Lizzie a good caning.

Afterwards, she looked me in the eye and said, “Thank you, sir.” What a sick fuck. That’s why I love her. I put her to bed and it wasn’t long before I was there with her.
At the picnic, Craig instructed me to take my cookies around and offer them to others. I’m shy; this was no easy task, but I managed. Afterwards, he promised me a caning as a reward for being such a good girl.

I looked forward to it all afternoon. And I loved every minute of it. Some people would probably say there is something the matter with me...
In the morning, the day after the picnic, we were getting ready to head out to run errands and I took it upon myself to appreciate the pervertable merits of a damp wash rag.

Lizzie stood still like a trooper, but I’m still not sure how much she enjoyed my little bathroom scene.

I’ll tell you what, I liked it a lot, but maybe it wasn’t as entertaining as that double-headed dildo toss. (For the record, grabbing a head and flinging it overhand in an arc that the flexible member curled through the air end over end was the technique for the win--just in case you ever need to do this yourself.)
I was blissed out after a lovely, morning fucking when Craig decided to use his washcloth in a most inappropriate way. He flicked the wet rag at my bottom, over and over again.

It hurt. Not in a bad way, but in a "I'm not really getting off on this" way.

Sometimes, it's enough that he likes it.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Domestic Bliss, Chapter 1

Earlier this year, we wrote about using stories as negotiation. This story was used more for discussion of non-kink things, as you'll see when you read it, but Lizzie is experimenting with the formatting for blog purposes.

Below you'll see the original story as written by Craig, with the addition of footnote-style numbers. Those number correspond with the comments in the other column. Lizzie initially wrote these comments in red, right in the text of the story. Craig responded with a different color, and the discussion continues in technicolor...

Domestic Bliss Discussion
Craig pulled his Acura SUV into the parking garage, parking, grabbing his brief case and heading toward the elevators of the artsy/industrial loft building. Just as the elevator doors were closing he saw Lizzie’s Mini Cooper zip in, tires squealing around the corner on the slick concrete. Rather than try to hold the door he pressed the button for the top floor and let the doors shut. (1)

On the 12th floor Craig got out, put his keycard to the lock on the door and went inside, (2) touching the lightpad next to the door and hitting preset 3 so the entire loft changed atmosphere automatically (3) lights came on, but dimly; accent lighting came up on the art the two shared (4) the sheer curtains to keep the glaring sunlight out parted on the floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall windows to allow for a beautiful view of the San Fernando Valley and the twinkling lights of evening and the colorful accents of holiday lighting on rooftops. The heater kicked on—it was cold outside. (5)

(1) There's something about this that is just...us. The cars are part of it. But I like that you go ahead, because it's domestic; it's real; it's not a surreal weekend...I dunno if I'm describing that right, but this just struck me as *real*. Plus, of course, the names. I get it.

(2) So it's a goofy thing to want, but I love the idea of having a keycard at home (yes, this from a person who does not lock the doors at her house)

(3) And this, I'm fascinated by the automated aspect. It's like, living in a movie. Home automation is no longer science fiction. And it's good for the environment. I get that in theory, but it hasn't hit this area yet you know. And I live in a house that was built in 1941...which seriously needs to have the wiring redone...but it's my dream. A weird one that I don't really tell everyone. Which is why reading this was like reading a fantasy in MY head. It's hard and expensive to retrofit, but into a new home or new construction, it's easy.
Craig rushed to the office where there were two desks, one for Lizzie and one for Craig—facing each other (6)—and quickly dropped off his bag. He ran into the huge bathroom and swigged some mouthwash, grabbed a few things—wrapping them in a towel—and coming back to the large living space. (7) The loft had a large kitchen/bar/living room and a separate bedroom and bathroom. (8) The floors in the living room were bare concrete, stained in an artfully splotchy rust color. (9) Separating the living space from the bedroom was a wall of white-stacked flagstone with a double-sided fireplace that could be shared between the living space and the bedroom. (10) Instead of logs, crushed green bottle glass filled the fireplace. (11) When Craig hit the preset the gas fire lit and was now casting warmth and a lovely glow into the dimly lit space. Craig paused for a moment to admire the huge graphic that covered one wall—it was a reprint of a comic book panel oversized to the point that the dithered pattern of print became golf ball sized dots. The frame showed a typical 50s woman coiffed to the max with a man in a “Mad Men” suit about to take her over his knee and a dialog balloon coming from her mouth: “I shouldn’t have told him I went shopping!” (12)

He ran to the long wet bar made of raw wood from an old barn somewhere in Connecticut and topped with huge sliding wood door from the same barn, hardware intact. (13) Behind the bar, antique mirrors of every kind, acquired by Lizzie and Craig on many an antique hunt in their sleek but small motorhome. (14) Centered on the wall behind the bar stretched and hung and lit like a museum piece, an incredible antique hand-sewn quilt. (15) A large leather sofa, big enough for two to lay on, but in the middle of the room facing the window, fireplace and a huge 60” flat screen TV.

At the bar, he quickly opened a bottle of Cabernet and grabbed two Reidel (16) glasses from the barback, deftly opening the bottle and pouring two generous portions into the glasses. From beneath the warm and rustic bar he grabbed a bag of mixed raw nuts from Trader Joe’s and poured them into a small serving bowl the two had picked up on a trip to Spain.

He rushed around the bar, setting the glasses down on the large coffee table in front of the sofa they had selected because it was large enough to turn into a spanking bench by simply adding two custom-made throw pillows that fit atop the table. (17)

He dropped the nuts there and grabbed a remote, turned on the receiver on the built-in home a/v system and selected a playlist on the remote’s small LCD screen. The music came on from a hidden Mac Mini in the a/v cabinet built into the wall just as Craig heard the beep of Lizzie’s key being used on the door. (18)
(4) I love this, the idea that we share art...like we picked it out together, or something, I dunno

(5) I like this. It's like seeing through your eyes, something you've seen.

(6) I like

(7) This is so totally YOU, I can see it. I have seen it. :)

(8) I can't wait to read about these other parts.

(9) I love this. It's probably the part of the description which stands out most sharply in my mind. Perhaps because this is when I started shaking, reading it the first time. But I've always wanted stained concrete floors. I saw them in a home design magazine and fell in love. Every single house I've designed since, in my head or on paper, has included stained concrete floors. I even use it in the houses I design when I play Sims! ALL of our main building is this way. It's just something I really like. I dunno why.

(10) I'm a huge fan of double-sided fireplaces.

(11) And like I told you, I love wood burning fireplaces...but the hassle, the mess, it's entirely impractical. But if it's going to be gas burning, I like the recognition that it is such.

(12) Totally fun! This doesn't actually exist, this art, but it's based on a piece I'd seen before and it's totally something I could get a friend to do. I wondered, but even as an example, it's awesome. My favorite actual comic book art is from Richie Rich - none of that entirely suitable for a living room, because of the child part (it was my favorite series as a kid...if only because there was spanking, what can I say?). I guess what I'm saying is that comic book style art that includes or suggests kink is something that strikes a very basic cord with me. Does that make sense? And what you describe is more...us...than some of what I've seen online. I'm utterly fascinated. Fascinated by what, exactly? My perverse interest in spanking in comic books as a kid? YES. I want to understand.

(13) I do like wood, especially old or repurposed wood. But I think an airplane wing would be cool too, just so you know.

(14) Love the reference to the rest of our lives. And I like the idea of hunting through antique shops with you, collecting something. Finding treasures.

(15) I like this too.

(16) Totally you - and I suppose me, now...but such will always make me think of you

Craig jumped over the sofa to lean against it casually, holding two wine glasses in his hands nonchalantly. (19) Lizzie beamed when she saw the room, Craig, the fireplace and the wine, setting her bag down next to the door, (20) tossing off her work shoes (21) and bouncing over to Craig to give him a kiss firmly on the mouth. (22)

“Hello, lover,” she cooed.

“Easy!” Craig said. “You’re going to spill the wine!”

“For me?” she said, eagerly taking the glass from him. “Should we drink too much? Aren’t we going to dinner?” Craig silently toasted her and they clinked glasses, sipping the wine where they stood. (23)

“We’re eating in tonight. I’ve already ordered Thai. You’ll like it. Trust me.” Lizzie knew to trust him and since moving to Los Angeles she had already experienced so many new things—most of which she liked—that she eagerly looked forward to every new and exciting experience Craig served up to her. (24) “But it’s not coming ‘till later, so I got you a snack.” He motioned to the nuts on the table. (25)

The two went around to the coffee table, sitting on the sofa, a tangle of arms and legs. “How was your day?” they both asked each other at the same time. (26) They chuckled. “You first,” Craig said.

“No, you first,” Lizzie replied.

“You know: meetings, meetings, meetings. Hey! We’re going to be doing that project I told you about. Oh! We’ve been invited to go to the movies with the gang from work tomorrow night at the Arclight.”

“What’s the Arclight?” Lizzie asked, nibbling nuts from the bowl.

“It’s this like gourmet multiplex. Huge recliners for two. Reserved seats. Servers and a bar, appetizers in the theatre. Top not audio and projection. It’s awesome.” (27)

“Neat,” Lizzie said. “Is it a long movie?”

“Don’t worry!” Craig said. “You can squirm. The seats are huge!” She kissed him on the cheek. Craig took the wine glass from her.

“Hey!”

“Shhhh,” Craig said. He set the glass down on the coffee table, along with his own, and grabbed Lizzie by the torso, yanking her across his lap. Before Lizzie knew what was happening, she was getting spanked over her tight black pencil skirt, Craig’s hand running up between her legs to pull her panties aside to slide a few fingers into her already wet pussy. (28)
(17) I love the selection of furniture...from a sofa big enough to cuddle easily upon to a coffee table that turns into a spanking bench. I half expect to see eye-bolts sunk into the majority of our furniture, discretely out of sight, of course, but always handily located.HAHAHAHA It'd be far easier to hide than the random bottles of lube I have scattered around my stories! And equally useful. hahahahaha!

(18) More fun techy stuff!

(19) Did you jump with wine glasses in hand? :) I love this, the contrast between the hurry-hurry-rush-rush of the first part to the decidedly relaxed and casual.

(20) Right...so have I told you there has to be a spot near the door for my work bag? It's a "launchpad" type thing - an ADD coping mechanism, putting it by the door so it doesn't get left somewhere else along the way, having a designated place for it, easy to pick up on the way back to work (along with anything else I intend to take to work the next day, I can just put randomness there and it goes, I don't have to remember in the morning). No. You didn't tell me. But it's based on my observations at various hotels. I do that with other stuff too? Wow. Neat...in a "I carry my insanity along with me everywhere" sort of way. You're not mental.

(21) Yup, I feel like you are watching me come home. My work shoes are always in a pile next to my launchpad. I suppose you could have seen that in my tour of the house, but still. I didn't see it in the video(s). Oh...I use the telephone chair as my launchpad - work bag (and anything else going to work) on the chair, shoes in a jumble on the floor in front of it (where I took them off after setting down my work bag. :)

(22) Yay! There is kissing in this story!

(23) Just so sweet.

(24) You know I do, right?

(25) And you get me.

(26) That is sweetly hysterical.

(27) Is this a real thing? Yes. Please? When you come to LA or if we go to NYC I will take you to one. Very cool.

(28) I like this, of course. But I really enjoyed the set up, the descriptions. Just...everything. It really hit me today, when I read it...but you know that.

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Feature: Picture Fiction

This story was inspired by a recent purchase for Lizzie, a sexy maid costume for her to wear around the house (on weekends the kids are away, of course). And don’t think we’re nuts—she’s not expected to wear it all the time. Just for a bit of fun, submissive service.

Maid to Serve Choices
He pulled into the driveway, grabbing his suit coat and briefcase before walking up to the front door. He wondered if she would have everything in place the way he had instructed.

He unlocked and opened the front door, finding her standing there in her new, sexy maid outfit that consisted of not a lot more than a short wispy black apron with lacy fringe, a maids cap and cuffs. She wore a pair of black heels. The apron exposed her backside completely. She stood there holding heavy glass with a single, perfect sphere of ice and his favorite single malt.

She curtsied on his entrance, a sly smile of anticipation on her face. “Good evening, sir.” He kissed her forehead, took the glass while handing her his suit coat and walked without saying another word into the den. This was all part of the scene.
She stood naked in her closet, staring blankly at her options. He had ordered her to “wear a costume to set the mood.” But even with half her closet given over to costumes, nothing seemed to fit the mood she was in. Of course, she was having one of those days when clothes did not seem to suit.

But he had been adamant that she wear something, so going naked was not an option. She forced her attention back to the plastic bins stacked neatly on the shelves. Clear bins allowed her to see the fabric of each costume and a handprinted label left no doubt about the options folded within.

Maybe a lingerie-inspired outfit would bridge the gap - enough clothing to constitute a costume without being enough fabric to irritate her.
In the den his home desk featured an array of implements and a large metal plug, things “the maid” had laid out for him. He sipped the scotch while taking stock of the array of pain inflicting tools in front of him. He ran his fingers across them, choosing one of his favorite (and one of her most hated) wooden paddles to start.

She padded in behind him, attaching the wrist restraints that hung from the wall herself, leaving the second wrist dangling for him to finish, which he did wordlessly. He reached around and felt for her breasts beneath the open maid’s uniform, pinching her nipples so hard the maid sucked in air as he twisted them.

Moments later, he laid into her exposed bottom with the wood paddle, starting slowly and ramping up until he had raised a sweat on his brow.
The French Maid outfit was new. Something he had purchased for her as a surprise. She had tried it on immediately, of course, but never worn it for a scene. It would have to do, as she was quickly running out of time to contemplate.

She stepped into the panties and then quickly tied the straps of the apron around her. The headpiece was a bit of a struggle, keeping her hair out of the strings, but she managed. The wrist cuffs were simpler, affixed with bits of velcro.

She stepped out of the closet and studied her appearance in the floor length mirror. A hint of service on a generous helping of slut; that should work.
He switched to a thick leather crop, smacking her thighs, hips, the back of her legs and focusing in on her firm bottom, taking careful aim at the sweet spots. Moments later, a short whip, the loud crack-crack reverberating around the den.

The maid was panting now, nearly dangling from the restraints. He smacked her ass with his strong hand as he reached around and held her waist to him as he did so, repeatedly striking her bottom again and again, back and forth, until she was utterly breathless and whimpering.

He finished by pulling out his violet wand, sending pulses of blue electricity dancing across the surface of her skin, releasing impulsive squeals and yips from her. After using it all over her body he finished by punishing her pussy with it, making her scream.

He switched the wand off, set it on the desk, freed her from her restraints and caught her as she collapsed into his arms. He took her to his favorite distressed black leather chair, holding her in his arms while he sipped the remains of the scotch the maid had prepared for him earlier.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” she asked with a sleepy smile.
His face lit up when he saw her, which made her smile. The outfit had been a good choice. She hurried over to him. He immediately pulled the sides of the apron in, revealing her full breasts. He played with them for a moment, squeezing handfuls before pinching the nipples.

After a moment, he spun her around to take in the back view. He growled when he saw the panties and jerked them down.

“I told you I didn’t care for those. Now I’ll have to punish that beautiful ass BEFORE I fuck it.”

His words raised goosebumps on her skin. But as he pulled her over his lap, she knew that she had done exactly right.