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thelandofloveanddrownings

dreaming-artemis

I steal lots of Sir’s clothes, but I know one of His favourites is the flannel shirt, no bottoms look.

thelandofloveanddrownings

dreaming-artemis

I’ve decided.

Time to go dress shopping.

finding-art-in-everyday-life

dreaming-artemis

This looks like something Sir would appreciate...

benchleyfan

dreaming-artemis

Sir’s views on coffee.

Personally, I’ll take the top one with about half a glass of creamer.

#not D/s

pervertsofcolor

Kinky Reminders

* Reminder that kink is techinally freaky illegal shit so maybe if you go to a munch, meet a cute guy, whatever, you should get to know a person for longer than 1 season of Dr. Who to make sure they are actually cool before getting into a situationship that turns ugly.

* Reminder that it’s technically illegal to practice kink activities in America and you do not have the ability to consent to kink activities in America. Meaning if your partner leaves a bruise, bite marks, rope marks, you can not consent to abuse so they are illegally hurting you even if you personally love that shit. Even if you tell the police you are consenting, your lover can be punished.

* Reminder that practicing consentual S&M or D/s, having a fetish (sexual desire for object) can get you labeled as violent, deviant or insane.

* Reminder that police can target local establishments and harass customers because they can legally conflate sex trafficking with anything sexual with a reasonable doubt.

* Reminder that people have lost their jobs, kids, their private lives for being involved in kink activities so BDSM and Leather isn’t just a fun aesthetic for some of us and that’s where the term lifestyler comes from.

* Reminder that learning about kink and consent is about understanding body autonomy and the right to choose or to refuse freely.

* Reminder that there are just as many bigots and rapists in the kink communities as there are in your churches, your schools, your hospitals, your army, and all your high valued institutions.

* Reminder that photos and videos are evidence and can be used against you. That includes photos of you, your partner or porn you’ve watched.

As for me and my family, we gonna do what we do because I can’t live another way but if you claim to be kinky then you gotta know the risks…

pervertsofcolor

The National Coalition for Sexual Freedom (www.ncsfreedom.org) has a program called Consent Counts that works to educate kinksters about the laws that can affect them.

You can read the entire statement (7 page PDF) on consent for kinksters and learn about the Consent Counts Program

Here is a snippet:

Source: http://www.ncsfreedom.org/key-programs/consent-counts-64083/consent-counts-44979

**Consent is not a defense for causing serious injury**

When “serious bodily injury” occurs during a scene, it is possible that criminal prosecution for assault will take place even when consent was clearly and validly given for the BDSM activity that caused the injury. Here the ethical and legal obligations are different. Ethically, each BDSM participant has a duty not to violate the other participants’ limits or to cause injury that was not anticipated and consented to. The law, however, will punish BDSM actions that cause serious bodily injury regardless of consent.

The Model Penal Code, which has been adopted in some form by many states, defines serious bodily injury as harm “which creates a substantial risk of death or which causes serious, permanent disfigurement, or protracted loss or impairment of the function of any bodily member or organ.” Any actions that result in injury fitting that definition create a risk of criminal prosecution even if consent was given.

It is not safe to assume that BDSM activities which cause lesser injury will not result in criminal prosecution EVEN if consent was given. The courts have ignored the Model Penal Code definition and have found that minor harm—redness from dripping hot wax or the pain of nipple clamps, for example—is enough to be “serious bodily injury.”

This is the legal issue that NCSF’s “Consent Counts” project seeks to correct.

Until then, any participant in a BDSM scene should assume that there is some legal risk if a participant or an observer complains to the police. It is always important to communicate and be sensitive to and aware of the other participants’ feelings, needs and limits.

fuckmethroughthesheets

Signal boost the hell out of this please.

dreaming-artemis

Signal boosting.

crusoesampersand

Sir Knows

I dressed for work as I always do on Friday. Jeans, t-shirt, collared shirt, thick socks, cotton panties, a bra reminiscent of the Kevlar I wore while on combat operations (creates one EPIC mono boob), steel-toed Doc Martens, hard hat, safety glasses, hearing muffs and a windbreaker. Oh, and it was 86 degrees. I was one sexy beast! Sir likes to tell me that the Village People is looking for the shortest member of their group as I walk out the door…. He’s quite the comedian.

I worked Friday morning, but was scheduled to donate platelets in the afternoon. Alas, it was discovered that my most recent tattoos prohibited my donation and I was sent home instead. Sir decided to meet me there. We would have several hours of kid-free time before school was dismissed! I was ecstatic! Right until I looked at myself and realized I would have to go through a tunnel and cross a bridge in order to beat Crusoe home in time to catch a shower before he arrived. Trust me, after several hours of work in the heat with no AC, the shower was not optional. I floored it and prayed for a wide open tunnel and clear lanes of travel!

Amazingly, I made good time home. I was stripping as soon as I walked in the door. Dropped the AC temp down to about 65. Made him a drink and left it in the fridge. Pulled a handful of sexy clothes from the drawer and headed for the shower. Fuck! No soap…. Well, no “normal” soap. It’s all that farmer’s market soap that makes me break out everywhere. Damnit, who cares. Then DONKEY BALLS, my glasses are on the bedside stand, guess I’m going to shave blind. I say a quick “Hail Mary" and pray that I don’t bleed out in the shower. Whew! Managed to dodge that bullet. No bloodshed. Cookie is cleaned, everything is bright and shiny. Quick brush across the teeth, some gel in the hair, drag a brush through, spot of deo under each arm – I’m feeling okay, until I hear the text ding that he’s on his way. Damn! I’ve got mere minutes. I’m hopeful the thick indentation around my ankles from the socks fades fast. And for goodness sake! Why aren’t the lines from the Kevlar boob smasher going down? I look ridiculous! Hard to look super sexy with sock rings around your ankles and bra lines across your boobs!

I drop the towel and come up to see what lingerie contraption I can put on. There’s a black number, a pink one, another black one, a corset. Hell, there are about 30 matching bra and panty sets in the drawer, most of which I’ve never even taken out of the bag!

Crusoe is visually driven and likes stockings so I narrow it down to a set with a camisole and stockings and panties, and a corset with panties and stockings. Regardless, it appears I should have brought someone along to help dress me. Apparently, I need a Master’s in structural engineering with a minor in physics to figure out where all the straps go.

I start to sweat. My pulse is racing. I can’t even figure out how to put on the corset OR the camisole. HOW CAN THIS BE FUCKING POSSIBLE???? I can make really big projectiles fly for a very long distance, why can’t I figure out how to put on a garment with $2.67 worth of material in it?

Frustrated I give up and go blow-dry my hair. It’s my hair and a round brush, can’t jack that up, right? Don’t ask. If this was one of those shows where you guess who a person looks like? I’d be Marge Simpson.

I want to put some make up on, at least a little something. Maybe just lipstick and mascara, but about that time I hear the front door. Shit!

I’m still naked. I run to the bedroom door and kick it shut (that’s truly abominable behavior from a sub to her Sir) then started quivering (quite actually) over the door situation, the fact that I wasn’t dressed, looked a wreck…and did I mention just slammed the bedroom door??.

No stopping now. I wrestled that camisole looking thing on, hiked up the skivvies, dragged the thigh high stockings up to my crotch. Darted around looking for some heels, then found the only robe I could find… some old man’s terrycloth robe where the arms had been cut-off.

Crusoe came home to special sexy times to find his Ampersand out of breath, looking really, really raggedy, wearing a torn-up old bathrobe and ready to cry. Probably not what he hoped for when he walked through the door.

I started to stammer and fidget and my eyes welled up. I wanted to do this right for him, but I really don’t know how.

He slowly walked toward me, took in the scene, didn’t say a word.

I started telling everything that I had done wrong and he stopped me. Put his finger to my lips and said, “SSShhh. Stop. I will help you. Please turn around.”

And he got down on one knee, reached over, gently thread the garter under my panties then attached my stockings the garter. Then he repeated the process with the other side. He tapped my ass and said, “please turn around” and proceed to repeat the process with the front garters.

Watching him, his big hands successfully manipulating the tiny little clasps from the garters to the stockings? My eyes welled up with tears again. It was so tender, He was so tender. He led me around the bed, nodded for my collar. I handed it to him and presented.

I didn’t need to wait long for the punishment for slamming the door. I heard his leather belt being pulled from the loops, what a distinctive sound! The punishment was well deserved and much needed.

We may not have had a particularly long time together….. the bus comes whether we are ready or not!

We had a short, but magical interlude, love and violence in just the right amount. When I think of how defeated I was, how I was ready to give up, to curl into a ball and just pretend the opportunity didn’t exist - Crusoe turned us around, he turned me around. With a gentle and tender act He defeated my negative thoughts and salvaged our time together. He taught me that it doesn’t have to be perfect, that he can (and will) help me (and us) be better. I don’t know what you call that, but I call that love of one Sir for his sub.

crusoesampersand

Here’s the deal folks, even my Sir knows that garters go UNDER the panties. It isn’t rocket science (and I know rocket science!) I swear I’m starting a blog devoted to the most egregious garter violators. Whaddaya think? @magpie-69 @submissive-seeking @itsshinycollectordestinyworld @chocolateharmonyperson @patientlydominant @asubssoul2013

I know ya’ll feel my pain, the struggle is real!

itsshinycollectordestinyworld

We can call it “The G-Files” or something.

I say we do it @crusoesampersand

mr-growly-pants

That’s a better name than the one I thought of, @itsshinycollectordestinyworld. 😉

*drum roll*

Accidental Pee Desperation

Count me in, @crusoesampersand!

dreaming-artemis

Oh! Oh! This makes me feel like such a dumbass....

(Insert head shaking emoji here)

For years, I have worn garter and panty sets. Sir loves them, I feel sexy in them, and it’s a wonderful time. For years, I have been putting the garters over the panties because that’s how the package shows them. For years, W/we’ve had to pause sexy times to remove the pretty garters to get the panties off. For years, I’ve just been doing it the WRONG DAMN WAY.

Thank you, @crusoesampersand, you have saved me from awkward garter encounters for the rest of my life. And with a funny, touching story too.

#D/s #garters #lingerie

friedcherryblossomprincess-deac

So Fine

On the way to work this morning, I passed a man preaching in the street. He was going on about all those gay people like it was any of his business. As I walked past he was shouting that if women sleep with women it will feel so good that they will lose all interest in their men.

“Do not do this thing, it FEELS SOOOO GOOD!” does not seem like an unsell to me.

Also, you know. I don’t want to sound boastful but yeah. We all know it is true. We’re pretty good at the loving and the sexy making feel nice.

Come on in, the water’s fine. It is so fine. So fine.

friedcherryblossomprincess-deac

And because it put it in my head and I kept humming it at boxing training, I had to sing it for Master on the way home and Alouette when I got home:

Oh Master, you’re so fine You’re so fine you blow my mind, hey Master, Hey Master!

Oh Allie, you’re so fine You’re so fine you blow my mind, hey Allie, Hey Allie!

Except I used her name, not “Allie”.

They are so fine. 😍💕

dreaming-artemis

Oh dear, now I’ve got an earworm...

#friedcherryblossomprincess

You Take One Little Break....

...and a follower list full of porn bots to block pops up. Heavens.

For whatever it’s worth, I think I’m coming back to the tumblr again? Sir and I were very busy and I was in a poor headspace besides, but I think I’ve reached the point where tumblr will be more of a benefit than a drain. And besides, I missed the lovely people :)

#personal #hopefully actually staying this time

verse50

He brought me up to my knees and gently removed the ball gag, dripping with my spit.

“Are you ok?” he said, looking at me. “Can you breathe alright?”

I nodded and gave him a little smile.

“I’m going to feel this mouth,” he said, putting his fingers inside. He rotated them around and felt at the back of my throat, watching my face the whole time.

“Suck my fingers,” he ordered. I did, relishing how I could relax my mouth now. My tongue felt so much better, too.

“Good,” he encouraged. “What about here? Nothing sore or hurt?”

He felt my lips and chin. I shook my head and smiled more.

‘What’s your name?” I told him. “Where are you?” I replied again.

“Good girl,” he said, sincerely, kissing my forehead. He brought me in for a big hug and stroked my hair.

“You were so brave and sexy back there, baby. You did so well. I’m proud of you.” I clung to him, burying my face in his chest. The tears started to fall now, soft and releasing.

“That’s my girl,” he soothed, still stroking my hair. “Let it out, just hold onto me. It’s ok, baby.”

“I’m sorry!” I sobbed. “I don’t know why…I don’t want to ruin anything…”

“You aren’t ruining anything, sweetheart. Just let it out. It’s ok. I have you. Things were a little intense there, that’s all.” He was rocking me now, arms around me like a vise.

We stayed like that for a few minutes as my tears dried. He whispered to me, caressed my hair and shoulders, softly touched my ear and neck. I felt warm and protected, finally perfectly content. Then he turned my face up to his.

“How about a nice warm bath and you can tell me all about it, baby?”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied, giving him a big smile.

instructor144

This right here? This is aftercare.

dreaming-artemis

This is a lovely description of aftercare and checking in to make sure a sub is still present mentally.

#D/s #aftercare

crusoesampersand

Unspeakable Indelicacies

Reader BEWARE – Overshare to follow.

Picture the scene: I was sound asleep early this morning when I was woken up by a few taps on the cheek. Looking up from my slumber, I saw Crusoe towering over me. “Happy Mother’s Day my little cocksucker.”

I smiled, stretched, and eagerly took him in my mouth. Personally, I love that particular position; me on my side, Crusoe on his knees. It makes me feel small, I love the view, hands aren’t required (there are no hands in blowjobs! – ha-ha)

Things were moving right along, both of us having a good time. However, there was one small detail that Crusoe had overlooked, but was troubling me greatly. While morning sex is my favorite kind of sex, he had woken me from sleep. I had actually slept many hours in a row!! It was so unlike me, as I generally sleep terribly and am usually up a few times in the night. Not last night. Nope. I bet I slept for six hours.

There we were, having this great early morning experience, and all I can think is how badly I need to go to the bathroom. But, a blowjob doesn’t require any orifices in my nether regions so I just kept working on Sir’s wonderful cock.

Crusoe pushed me to where I was lying more prone and really started driving the action (so to speak.) I had far less ability to control movement in that position and he was going deep. I was gagging and struggling for breath. Crusoe took that opportunity to really go deep. At the moment he thrust and cut off my oxygen supply, I farted.

FARTED.

Not some cute little toot that could conceivably be something else. Not a ladylike poot. No, it was like one of the cartoons where the character is playing a tuba filled with soup.

Blllluuuurrrrrrppppp!

Sweet Baby Jesus.

It took exactly one millisecond for both of us to erupt into laughter. I was convulsing and crying I was laughing so hard. He immediately pulled out of my mouth and rolled onto his back – I think he was afraid of being in the blast zone.

Crusoe propped himself up on one elbow and asked, “are you done?”

Still hyperventilating, I asked if it would be possible for me to excuse myself for a moment. Off to the bathroom I trundled, chortling all the way. I went back to bed, we resumed activities, Crusoe painted my face, and all was well in the world - the best way ever to start Mother’s Day.

What does this have to do with D/s? Kink? Power exchange?

Probably nothing, but we are bombarded with images and videos of perfect people doing amazing things, but with a soundtrack and airbrushing. The reality is that humans make noises, not always pleasant noises. Every action has a reaction. Cause and effect.

Crusoe thrust his cock into my throat, gagged me, created a vacuum and caused my body to involuntarily fart. My knowledge of anatomy might not be all that great (I realize it doesn’t actually work that way) but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. It was CRUSOE’S own actions that caused me to fart so indelicately during this morning’s blowjob.

We all fart, and burp, and pee, and poop. While personally, I don’t want to watch anyone do any of those things, I wish that we could all be a bit more open about the realities of what happens (at times) when bodies collide.

Overshare complete, please resume normal activities.

lyonesse106-deactivated20190122

Oh my 😂 I think this happens to all of us… thanks for sharing 😍

dreaming-artemis

Thank you for sharing the realities of life :)

Thank you, Sir

Thank you for picking me up from work at ungodly hours.

Thank you for holding me in the car because I’m crying over something sad but normal, not any more special than any other occurrence.

Thank you for patiently outwaiting my tears so I can explain what’s wrong, then reassuring me that I’m not silly for crying about it.

Thank you for staying up late even though you’re busy to make sure that I’m okay.

Thank you for showing me silly pictures to help me feel better before bed.

Thank you, Sir, for keeping me safe and taking care of me.