…continued from Cougarling, with rope of course
He worked himself loose, of course. When he wriggled his hands free from the rope, he looked at me in triumph.
“If I’d known you were going to fight your way out, I’d have tried harder…” I protested weakly.
He smirked, nodded indulgently at me.
Pushing him down onto his back, I took the length of rope, and wrapped it more firmly around his wrists this time, something that approximated a double column tie, but probably wasn’t. I tied the end to the bedpost so his arms were stretched overhead, his body angled … Continue Reading
Some light rope play in the morning. A pentagram chest harness. Easy enough, but not for her: Unskilled and clumsy, painstakingly following directions shown on a youtube video, backtracking, trying again.
He was patient, always. Happy enough to feel the rope on his skin, gentle kissing, her chin already scraped raw from the night before when he had arrived after a full day’s work, a flight, a drive, carrying his five o’clock shadow into his long weekend. The rope play had a friendly camaraderie rather than some hot intimacy that spoke of more.
They’d agreed a bike ride along the … Continue Reading
Hidden under my bed is a beat up old suitcase. It’s a large bright orange lockable Samsonite that I’ve had for countless years of various kinds of travel.
It’s always locked. It’s heavy. It’s full.
When you open it, it looks disorganised, but it’s not.
Dildos of silicone, glass and steel, vibrators, butt plugs, lube, strap-on harnesses, various kinds of rope, cuffs, leashes, clips, blindfolds, an electronic zapper, paddles, a carpet beater, a breadboard, a slapper, a gorgeous leather garter set and…and… I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT ELSE.
I don’t know how that happened.
An entire suitcase full of femdom … Continue Reading
The vanilla man bailed.
I’m not really surprised, but I AM disappointed.
He has legitimate reasons that I don’t doubt are true (he expanded a bit on serious family issues that he mentioned earlier), but really: If you’re in the middle of some emotional upheaval, maybe, you know, don’t say ‘yes’ in the first place. I’d guess that he didn’t quite realise the mess he was in until he tried to add something else on top, and then he realised later that he didn’t have emotional/mental energy for it/me.
In taking stock, I’m not invested so it’s no big deal … Continue Reading
The vanilla man is not proactively showing interest. I vaguely wonder if that’s a vanilla/submissive divide. But honestly, it doesn’t matter much.
I felt it on the weekend after we didn’t have the date. His communication about possibly not being able to make it was good, so that was fine. But when the get-together was clearly not going to happen (and didn’t happen), we both dropped communication.
While that would have been fine if we had an alternative time lined up, we didn’t have anything else lined up. I hate texting, so don’t do any ‘just because’ chatty exchanges with … Continue Reading
After a lot of sage advice in my comments and on twitter, I did indeed invite the vanilla man to come and have a drink with me.
Hi vanilla man: If you’re interested in a drink down at [where I live] sometime, let me know. I can offer stellar views: we can compare :).
-Sharyn (the tall blonde, pink sarong, [my dad’s] daughter
(if you don’t remember who I am, let’s both just pretend that you never got this, mmkay? :P
The ‘we can compare’ relates to him giving me a tour of his unfinished house when I was there: … Continue Reading
I overthink everything. It can get very boring, even to me.
The other day I met a vanilla man who somehow appealed to me. He bought the place next to my dad’s house (over an hour away from me): We had a chat when I visited and I asked for a tour of his as-yet-incomplete house. We had an easy rapport, he was somehow very open with me (he’s recently divorced, talked about his work, was showing off a bit about an article in the newspaper about him). The interaction was nothing special but he’s still on my mind.
A … Continue Reading