Elspeth Demina

Just another sexy weblog

Adventures In… Fantasies, Kink, and Bucket Lists March 14, 2012

Last February I posted about being asked what my sexual fantasies were, and my issues expressing or understanding them (such as they were). At the time I was struggling with how small and vulnerable I felt being asked to tell my Daddy about my fantasies were, what thoughts came up upon seeing him, and what things got me off at home when we were apart. I was very shy and the shyness about these questions made me feel very Little indeed. I came to the conclusion that I don’t fantasise like others, and rather fixate on things from past experiences, and that fills my fantasy gap. I was content with answer at the time, it seemed.

We’re a few weeks past a year later, and here I am to think on it some more. I’ve actually been thinking on this quite a bit of the last few months, through my time laid up from surgery and illness (those really are some good times to just sit back and think about yourself and your goals and feelings, I find). Later in the same year Lee Harrington’s delightful journal on Sexual Fantasy was published and helped me further into insight of how to create these solid communicable ideas which I can open up to others, and where my fears lie, to accept those, and put them in the open as well. There are certainly worries and fears, moreso perhaps for those of us who do feel Little and as such want to blush, hide, runaway, brat, or lose our words.

Opening up to fantasies also opens us up not just in these vulnerable  ways but also to the risky delicate dance of facilitation and negotiations for some things. As Lee says so nicely in his journal:

Things I often get shy saying, because of fear of rejection, or fear that they will be promised to me but not happen (that has happened a LARGE number of times in my life, and it sucks).  I tend not to tell folks what I really am looking for, because if I get excited about the possibility, I feel let down if it does not happen.  I worry that when I discuss my actual body realities, my health concerns, my safer sex rules, etc, that I may get turned down even after folks get all excited (which has happened many times to be honest).  I have moved for the most part to instead speaking desires out loud, and if they happen, cool.This too, is not the best system.  But its what I can do right now emotionally.  Some days I go proactive.I have major challenges with the shopping-list approach to sexual and kink negotiation.  Sign up here for a gangbang.  Um… gr… just can’t wrap my head around it.

Which brings me to me, and some of my fantasies. Sexual fantasies sounds rather limiting to my mind, so I’m going to call them kinky fantasies. Anyhow, in no particular order:

  • A boot and leather centric scene, blacking a series of leathers through predicament situations and sensation, but also being permitted time to truly just dedicate my entire body to blacking. (requires an existant partner)
  • Sensory depravation. My mind wanders to heavy leather sleepsacks, or palatte wrap, or somesuch similar. A hood. A blindfold. Headphones with pre-programmed music in. Suspended in the air, and just let to feel, to think, to process, and to be. (This would be a deeply personal and carthartic scene, and requires someone willing to help with anything that would need addressing in the intermediate. Pre-planning to have a therapy appointment follow the day before is a must.)
  • To be collared in a more serious collar than a play collar. A collar of daddy’s-girl-hood, protection, perhaps even property. (would depend on many factors for property, that’s a rather charged word to me)
  • Fun and floppily dynamic partial suspensions. Lots of laughter. Lots of lightheartedness. Lots of hitty-hitty.
  • Being bound, somewhere dark for a long time, enough to lose track of time. Occasionally to be used or beaten. (Would need to be someone who is ok with my flipping out/getting emotional)
  • Being drugged and fucked/played with while unconscious.
  • Heavy boot play, my body grinding into the ground beneath you under your soles, your bootprint on the side of my face, treadmarks on my cunt.
  • Combined intense candle wax, rope, and spanking/flogging scene. (relies heavily on the D/s dynamic for this to not just be a very surface scene)
  • Nazi interrogation/rape scene.
  • Having my body pissed on, then my cunt pissed in and fucked full of piss. (obviously someone I’m fluid bonded with)
  • A day of learning whatever lesson Daddy deems I need in order to be able to grow. (potential for fun, or for awful)
  • Going to the movies, or a day at the Aquarium, or to the arcade, with some sort of naughty thing going on under my clothes. With a companion, not just alone. I’ve done this with rope before, so I’d like to add more next time.
  • Electrical play. Let’s not forget the electro-bike saga. I really want to explore this more. I have ideas, and a scary-as-fuck gift to be given once I work up the nerve to do so.
  • To play right on the edge of true fear. Again, like the deeply cathartic scene, this is risky business. I still really want to do it though.

Now, I still have my old style fantasies, where I think intensely hard on one aspect of something I like or have done. Things like the ingenius little leather cuff Daddy owns and which I wore on one of our formative dates. The first time he spanked me, where, when, how, how I felt… and the first time he beat me with his belt, where, when, how, how it felt, how it compares, what I have learned… I dream about mornings waking to Daddy rousing me from my cage for an early morning fuck before we both head off to work. I dream a lot how Daddy takes my breath away, and how happy it makes me feel.

So, I think about fantasies, but I’m shy and unusually awkward compared to how I seem. I am a little girl at heart, and I carry my Daddy’s watchful eye and protective heart with me wherever I go. I’m an autonomous individual, free to do as I please, but knowing I’ve got him in my corner looking out for me is giving me a bit more confidence. Not much though. I’ll likely continue to limit who I will play list rather strictly for the time being. Who knows, maybe that’ll change too!

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Adventures in Nudity: A Straight Razor Saga August 9, 2011

Filed under: adventures in...,events,my life,observations — Lorax Of Sex @ 3:38 pm

It seems that breaking through limits is something that happens rather publicly for me, or at least that’s the trend so far. Earlier this year there was my experiences at SEAF with the Electro-Bike, and then my weekend in Portland for Sunday School with PDX Bad Girls. Not sure what this means about me…

Sunday School was a special three-part workshop being put on by the PDX Bad Girls, a women’s kink social group, as an annual part of Oregon Leather Pride. This year the event featured Dr. Evil Boi teaching two workshops: one on mindfucks and one on blood and ritual, with Twisted Monk teaching a workshop on straight razor shaving in-between. While these subjects (well, the mindfucks and the razors at least) are generally of interest to me to begin with, this wasn’t just another workshop for me. Oh no. You see, I was to be a part of the workshop. Being friends with interesting people has its perks, and one of those is that sometimes opportunities such as being a demo-body for a straight razor workshop arise. So it was that I found myself naked from the waist down, feet in stirrups, a big examination light spotlighting my cunt, in a room full of (mostly) strangers.

This may seem like no big thing to some. People get naked at kink events and play parties all the time, so what’s the big deal? Well yes, people do do that, but I don’t. I have spent much of the past decade appearing to the rest of the world more than a little conservative. Floor-length skirts, long sleeves, even covering my hair, were a normal mode of appearance for me. While not quite that severe these days, I am still generally much more modestly dressed than most. On the rare occasion that I engage in any sort of public play I still don’t strip down to my birthday suit, opting instead for underoos and a tank. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll go topless if I’m feeling particularly daring that day. I’m certainly never caught with my junk out in the open in public though. I tend to refer to public full or lower nudity as a soft limit for me. It’s a difficult thing to explain why that is — it’s not based on fear or repulsion, as many limits are. A lot of it is trust, and some of it is modesty, and the rest just is. Pair this with the truth that I am a bit of an exhibitionist, and things get interesting.

I was fully aware of what I was getting into when it was settled that I would be offering up my body and my hair for public removal. I’ve been straight razor shaved before, so that part wasn’t new. I’m comfortable with it, as much as anyone ever is comfortable with someone using a frighteningly sharp blade around the most sensitive parts of their body. I knew that Little Brother and his Daddy would be there too, which was both reassuring and not (Brother simply loves goading me into trouble). I trust Monk unquestionably. The variable here was simply being naked, in public, with strangers.

What was interesting to me, was how much more arousing the shave in this situation ended up being. I found myself getting excited and damp even before I was down to my underoos (which, incidentally, being my new Batman y-fronts, prompted the entire room bursting out in the Batman theme song upon sight). Even shaving my legs and underarms had a profound effect on me, enough that by the time I had to slip off my underoos my body was pretty wired, my endorphins up, and my mind definitely somewhere rather good. Kudos to Monk for being able to safely navigate my nethers despite the added slipperyness. I’m sure getting a good grip on my flesh to safely shave it was a bit tricky. I can’t say for sure as I couldn’t see what was going on down there, but it certainly felt like I was getting far wetter than I’ve been in a long time. I might even hazard to use the phrase “dripping wet”.

It’s funny how something like this can create such a response in my body and mind. Afterwards I was far more altered than I have been even from my intensest scenes. I’m not sure I’m ready to start being fully nude or nude on the lower half in public on any sort of regular basis now, but I’ve found the power in choosing to offer this option as a rare treat. I have to say thank you to everyone who was there too. To Little Brother for lending a boot of reassurance while my legs were being shaved at the beginning of the workshop, and for not inciting too much trouble. To my Family as a whole for being supportive, present, and helpful. To Monk for keeping me in one piece, working through my laughter when the razor tickled, and for providing me this amazing opportunity and experience. And to everyone in attendance, for having a sense of humor, for being so kind, for being an amazing audience, and for making me feel comfortable despite my vulnerability.

 

Who is Running This Show Again? April 23, 2011

Filed under: my life,observations — Lorax Of Sex @ 12:00 pm

Sometimes I really wonder who is running this show, my head or my cunt. If amount of money spent is any measure, then my cunt is winning by leaps and bounds. Good thing I like her, ’cause otherwise I’d totally be making an ultimatum right about now that she start pulling her own weight. Yes, it’s a good thing we’re on good terms indeed.

 

Observation January 19, 2011

Filed under: kink,my life,observations — Lorax Of Sex @ 7:24 pm

Why do I love being kinky? Because it makes me notice and evaluate how I confront my life and the world.