Category: Love & Relationships Page 12 of 17

Relationships End and Other Fears

On August 31, 2008

Everything I know about relationships means that Dominus’ and mine will never last. At some point we will find that we no longer fit together like we once did. Is it logic or fear that is telling me that? Sometimes I’m not sure. I don’t completely believe it, but I don’t not believe it.

Part of me can’t imagine a reason for ever needing to leave, and that in and of itself scares me. We are both solidly committed to the growth of the other, of bettering the life of the other, and we are both poly, so I can’t see myself ever needing to leave him for someone else as there are other wonderful poly people out there and I’m sure some or many of them are compatible with me/us.

I read about people who have been together for long periods of time and I wonder how they do it. Maybe it is because all of my immediate examples of relationships just tell me that things don’t always work out the way they should. I’ve grown up with the idea that people fall apart and love isn’t always enough replaying over and over in the relationships I’ve witnessed. My experience of relationships is such that I question commitment.

I know this is typical, I do have a degree in Psychology after all and I’ve read about attachment theories and imprinting of relationship patterns and all of that. I can point out the way that this is both logical (for my brain) and fear-driven but it wouldn’t necessarily be logical for anyone else, because it’s the way my brain works. I also continually compare my relationship with Stian to my sister’s first big relationship, because in some ways they are eerily similar and even though in other ways they’re worlds apart it’s easier for me to see the similarities… that is a bit of a side-note though.

I feel like I’ve been running hot and cold lately, and I’m not sure what to do about it. There are some days when I can’t imagine my life without him and there are others that I can’t imagine being with him forever or even for long. My sex drive has been rather diminished lately, and I’m not quite sure of the cause. I’ve been playing with toys for reviewing, and we’ve had sex just not a lot recently, and not as much as I have been before.

It all comes back to my preset ideas about relationships as well as my general unhappiness with my bodily health and living in SLC. I’m working to change the two big things I’m unhappy with, but for an instant-gratification junkie like me it is difficult to have the two big things making me depressed both not being able to be fixed quickly. In order to change my unhappiness with my bodily health I’m having to change the way I think about everything regarding what I put in and do with my body, but the big changes will take a lot of time. In order to move out of SLC we have to wait until we have the money to do it.

As for my preset ideas about relationships… well, we’ve been living together for two years, we’ve been together for over three, and I’ve been thinking about that a lot, since we just had two of our anniversaries within the last month or so. My relationship fearing brain tells me that we have been together for a long time and that means our time must be running out. I worry that because we’re not having sex that means he no longer desires me, which means he’s growing tired of me, which means he may reject me, which means my fears about relationships ending are somehow validated. When in reality I know he is tired from working so much and that if I initiated sex we would have it, I’m usually the one who initiates and I haven’t been lately first because I haven’t been feeling very sexy, and now because I don’t feel very desired.

The catch, of course, is that because I feel he doesn’t desire me as much I’ve been pulling away from him. I’ve been not initiating sex even when I want it, I’ve been waiting to see if he will take the initiative while at the same time knowing that he’s tired from working his butt off most of the week and that he’s feeling me pull away which makes it less likely he will initiate anything, and my pulling away means that he pulls away because I’m pulling away… basically it’s a cycle that is never-ending until we talk about it and it’s hard to talk about when we’re in the middle of it.

That’s what this post is for, though. This is my way of processing the situation and getting to a place where I understand it enough to bring it up and talk about it. This is the first step towards change: realizing the problem on my side so that we can talk about it and come to a resolution. We talked a little the other night about things that have been bothering us, but we didn’t get to the heart of the issue. Most of our problems come down to the same things: we both have a huge fear of rejection and we both have highly developed defense systems. Put those two together and we get into these cycles which will go on until one of us brings it up. One of us meaning me.

Basically what I’m saying is: I need to go ask him to come into the bedroom on our new red satin sheets (which we have yet to fuck on) and play, touch, tease, flog, and fuck our brains out.

Kissyfaced Love HNT

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On August 28, 2008

In a Love: Onyx, Introspection

Click here for the larger version.

So, I’m cheating a little. This pic was taken a while ago, January of 2007 in fact, so a damn long ago considering what I am posting it for. Today marks two years that I’ve lived here in Salt Lake City. Exactly two years since I made the horrible decision to move to SLC but the wonderful decision to be with the wonderful partner, lover, friend, and Dominus I have here.

I wrote not too long ago about the first of our three anniversaries, the day we met face-to-face, and this is the second. The third comes in November, and we’ll get to that one when it comes.

I never planned on moving to Salt Lake City. I can’t say it was ever even remotely near my to-do list before meeting Stian, and it wasn’t on there until my birthday 2007. We had been planning on moving to Portland (or, I had been anyway). I needed to go to a different school in order to get the degrees I was wanting, and he wanted to get out of SLC, so it was a win-win situation. I applied and got into PSU and even got WUE there and everything. I was looking for apartments and working out all the moving details when I came to visit him here for my birthday.

Honestly, I had kind of a horrid time that visit. It wasn’t very long, but he had just taken a new job in the middle of our (my) planning on moving to Portland, and I felt like we didn’t have much alone time because of his roommate at the time. I was hurt and upset and needing to talk things over but we didn’t really have the time until it all came tumbling out late that night. I was upset, I cried, and we talked about our options. He suggested I could move to SLC, we checked out the U of U and they had the degrees I desired. I wasn’t really that excited about the idea in general, but I wanted to be with him.

I started warming up to the idea more when I went back to Ashland. The more I thought about it the more it worked, though going to the U was a problem. I decided first that I would wait until December, that I would take another quarter at SOU and then move to SLC after, giving me time to figure out all the school issues and more time at SOU instead of leaving so suddenly. That was the plan for a while, anyway, but as time drew on I was just so impatient to be with Stian (it had already been a year of being apart, after all) that I looked into getting here as soon as possible.

It was a whirlwind of only about four weeks from the time I decided I would move here to the time I arrived. I worked the night before, Sunday, until 2am and then caught a plane at 6am (6:18 if memory serves, yes, I did post this exactly at that time) and headed here. I had that Monday to get used to everything before having to start classes on Tuesday (though I had already missed the first three days of class). It happened very quickly, and although parts of me still wish I would have done things a little differently, the rest of me knows that it was the best thing to do with the options I had at the time.

I love Stian, my Dominus as I have been referring to him lately. While there are times when he drives me up the wall (as is to be expected in any relationship) those times are far less frequent than the rest of the time, when he is absolutely perfect. After three years of being together and now two years of living together with hardly any time apart I still love being with him, and I would do it all again in a second.

It's Just Breath Control

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On August 15, 2008

In a Love: Onyx

I sat astride his chest, “It’s just a thrill,” he said,
as he relaxed on the dark, dark bed,
“it’s just breath control.”
He whispered “Hold me here” and I did and his head fell back.
He whispered “Press harder” and I did and his eyes rolled back. It’s just breath control.

-“Breath Control” by Recoil

This post comes to you by request of the sweet, lovely, and brilliant Elizabeth (I may have a bit of a crush, shhhh… and let’s not mention her partner Gabe as well… they are both amazing and fabulous), she asked me about the allure of breath play, what I see in it, and why it’s appealing. This is something I’ve been thinking quite a bit about lately, as both the play parties we went to ended up with me desiring breath play at one point or another. It really is something that I highly enjoy, and I don’t ask for it as often as I feel the desire for it.

One instance in particular comes to mind for me to talk about. This was back when I still lived in Ashland, Oregon and Master was coming over for a weekend at a time to visit. I think it was around his birthday in December 2005, our relationship was still pretty new, especially on the physical level, and we had played with breath play a little bit already, but this was the first time I remember experiencing a big “wow” factor, it was what turned breath play from a casual desire to a permanent kink.

We were cuddling on the couch, watching Buffy or Angel (I don’t remember which) as we usually did. Pretty much all we did when he visited was fuck, eat, and if we could pull ourselves out of bed, watch Buffy or Angel (as I own all twelve seasons and make everyone that gets close to me watch through them with me). I forget what provoked it, I may have asked for it or we may have been talking about it, I’m not sure, but I do remember that he had me breathe in deeply before covering my nose and mouth with his hand (my favorite way of experiencing breath play).

I took a breath and we looked into each others eyes as he began controlling me. He held me past he had before, making me light headed and a little dizzy, but in an exquisite way. I felt completely under his power, extremely helpless, and a little out of it in a weird way. I was completely conscious, but felt almost drunk or just loose, basically I was a lot less self-conscious and my overanalytical brain was shut off a bit, I was in the moment rather than overthinking everything as I usually do.

So, basically, there are three main factors which I believe contribute to my enjoyment of and desire for breath play: control, vulnerability, and headspace. The control aspect should be fairly obvious, the Top is controlling the breath of the bottom, controlling something which is usually automatic and subconscious. It brings focus to the mundane and is a way for the Top to illustrate the power ze has over the bottom, because ze controls not only the bottom’s conscious actions but also the unconscious. It can easily be worked into mindfuck scenarios that way as well.

Vulnerability is pretty obvious as well, I think, basically the bottom is putting hir life into the hands of the Top. If the Top was to hold on for a little longer ze could make the bottom pass out or even die (though, of course, none of us would pick Tops who would even consider doing something like that, but the threat is there). The bottom is completely under the power of the Top, and must trust hir completely in order to engage in breath play, and I believe, like all edge play, if done correctly it can strengthen the bond between Top and bottom.

I find that breath play gets me in an immediately vulnerable, helpless, and (basically) a submissive mindset. My brain shuts down a bit (in a good way) and I am taken into a form of sub-space. I am able to dip into that mindset quicker than any other method which we have played around with. In some ways it’s a very spiritual experience as well, as I find all sub-space or pain-space to be, which is really a seperate post I’m working on as well. It brings me more into the serving aspect of my personae, which doesn’t usually happen very easily.

That said, each experience I’ve had with breath play are all slightly different, but they are all slightly the same. The mindset which results is not always identical, and it also depends on what else it’s coupled with and the intensity of it. If we do a short amount while Master is fucking me the affect is completely different than if we are doing nothing but breath play (like the scenario above) or if he is caning me and holding my breath (like the experience at the play party). Every experience slightly varies but the core tenants are the same: control, vulnerability, and headspace/mindset.

The Day We Met

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On August 14, 2008

In a Love: Onyx, Smut

A couple weeks ago Master and I had one of our three anniversaries. Yes, one of the three. Now, I’m not big on anniversaries, I don’t demand gifts or things like that, and this last anniversary passed with little recognition until a few days later when I realized it had passed. I do like anniversaries for the sheer and simple fact that it is a way of marking the time we have spent together, a way of remembering the day we met, or the day we collared, or the day I moved a few hundred miles East to be with him (those are the three anniversaries if you didn’t figure).

I like remembering the day the anniversary celebrates, so I thought to commemorate the anniversary of the day we met face-to-face (which was actually two weeks ago, July 29th) I would tell you a little bit about that day.

First, to tell you about the day we met face-to-face I have to give a little background about how we met and all that other stuff. I have a little bit of it written in my about page but it doesn’t go into great detail. I haven’t really talked about how we met in this blog yet, just where we are now.

Master and I met online on irc.sexnet.org in late 2004, December or so. I had just gotten out of a relationship and was rather sour on relationships in general, he was still married and rather sour on relationships in general as well. I had been told by a friend of mine that he thought I was one of “Pan’s girls” (Master goes by Pan or Pantos online) as in, someone that he scened with on a regular or semi-regular basis. I had never really interacted with Pan although we had similar friends and had seen him around since 2002, so I told him that, and he was surprised because, as he said, Pan and I have really similar desires and sexual tastes.

Needless to say I was intrigued. I made it my intention to get to know Pan better, to talk to him, see if we really were as compatible as J had said. Obviously we were otherwise I wouldn’t still be with him three and a half years later. We began talking, just getting to know each other at first, and then it moved to more. We both declared that we didn’t want a relationship, that we would just be friends and have fun online and chat on the phone and whatnot, but that we weren’t looking for anything serious. I had a crush offline that I was trying to subtly get with, and I talked about her with him, and we got to be good friends.

We talked about him coming to see me in March of 2005, though only idly, and so it didn’t really happen. We were in and out of touch for quite a while, talking most days but not quite every day, that usual online stuff. One night in June we were talking (he was drunk) and he told me that he loved me, that he was in love with me. I was surprised because we had sworn to each other that we would be just friends, but not that surprised because I had suspected he felt for me more than a friend. I knew I felt for him as well, and him telling me that allowed me to feel what I felt for him. I told him I loved him as well, and we started talking about him coming to meet me.

I moved in June, and went home to Alaska for a couple weeks, and then when I came back to Ashland we started seriously planning. He was going to come over on the weekend of the 22nd, arrive Friday night then leave Sunday night, be back home in time for work the next day and all that. He wasn’t able to get on a flight that weekend, he was flying standby at that time as his (ex)wife works for Delta and so he got free flights. And a side note on the wife thing, they were polyamorous, and she knew about me. He was not cheating and I wouldn’t have been with him if he had been. However, I did know that he had been unhappy with her for a few years prior to us being together, so I was a catalyst–though not the reason–for him eventually leaving her.

Back to the story. He wasn’t able to get a flight on the 22nd, which we both bemoaned, and catching a flight the next day would just not be good enough, since we would have even less time together. Since the Medford airport is so small there was only one flight from SLC to Medford a day, so it wasn’t like he could hop on a flight an hour later. We grumbled and were upset but he told me that he would try again the next weekend. And so, on July 29th, 2005 he hopped on a plane from SLC to Medford, then took a taxi to my apartment and knocked on my door.

I remember I had dressed up for him. I put my hair in pigtails, wore a black button-up shirt and my short yellow and green plaid schoolgirl skirt with thigh high fishnets and a garter belt. I was looking hot, and I knew it. I had just moved into the apartment and had very little furniture at the time, though I did have a bed upstairs, and a chair and futon in the living room, but that was it. The living room was large and spacious with just a few scraps of furniture in it. I opened the door, we said hello, he set his luggage down, and then we proceeded to maul each other. He pressed me against the door, we kissed hungrily, he slid his fingers under my skirt…

The first meeting is somewhat of a blur, honestly. I remember kissing him seconds after he came through the door. I remember us not making it two feet before just getting down and fucking right in the living room. He had me kneel and take his cock in my mouth while still against the door, then we moved and he fucked me from behind, my cunt and my ass. It was a whirlwind of excitement for the both of us. Nearly eight months of foreplay had led us up to this point, and there was no way we were leaving any inch of each other untouched.

I remember cuddling up next to him lying there on the floor of my living room, both of us spent and happy after an uncountable number of orgasms. We were cuddling my favorite way, him on his back and me on my side facing him, my head fitting right in that nook that still feels like it’s made for me. We were grinning like fools and so amazingly happy, and all I could think was how perfect we fit together.

Caned and Bruised, Never Satisfied

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On August 7, 2008

In a Love: Onyx, Introspection

Click for the larger version

For my second HNT I wanted something, again, which is going along with another post of mine. I just yesterday published my recap of the weekend play party and my first public play experience, so I figured showing you all the pictures taken after that experience would fit right along nicely. The picture above was taken via Master’s camera phone, so it’s obviously not very good quality. Unfortunately we didn’t bring my camera with us to the party, so we didn’t get a good picture post-play aside from this one.

Obviously the coloring is a bit off, my skin is not actually that blue, but you can see the pretty cane marks on my butt and upper thighs, as well as some flogger marks mixed in for good measure. I think it’s pretty yummy, and hope you appreciate it as well! And, because I can’t just leave you with one poor quality picture…

Click for the larger version

Taken two days after the party by Master (with my Rebel XT), just so you get to see the pretty bruises it left as well! I love bruises, but, unfortunately I have a butt of steel (or leather, which works too) and it doesn’t bruise very easily. It was being spanked, flogged, and caned for a good 45 minutes or so, including quite a bit of caning, and all I get are two lousy bruises? Curses!

That’s not to say I don’t like the bruises or think they’re pretty, far from it! I just adore marks and want more! But, then, I’m rarely satisfied, am I? Alas, we’ll just have to try harder next time.

My First Public Play Experience

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On August 6, 2008

In a Love: Onyx, Power Play

Master and I went to our second play party this weekend, our first was a couple weeks ago where we didn’t play, we just observed. Despite being into BDSM for many years, we’ve never gotten much into the actual community, and since we didn’t know people very well and we didn’t bring any of our own toys to the first play party we didn’t feel like playing (though, I felt like playing near the end, but we didn’t).

This party, however, we did end up playing. We mingled and chatted for a while, observing others in their scenes, getting introduced to new people and seeing a few friends. I was wearing a black leather corset with spiderweb tights on my arms (basically spiderweb tights with the crotch and feet cut out, which works very well as a pseudo-shirt), a black skirt with D-rings and black bondage straps, black lacy panties, and silver and black cute femme shoes. I looked good, if I do say so myself.

We made the rounds, watched some delicious scenes including some caning, rope bondage, gas mask breath play/asphyxia, pressure point play, and physical force (not all in the same scene, mind you). I got a little antsy watching all the others playing and I asked Master in my coy and subtle fashion (until he made me ask him verbally) if we could play somewhere. We walked around, looking for an empty room, and ended up getting one after a little bit of waiting. I took off my corset and skirt, stripping down to my panties and spiderweb tights, and got up on a long flat massage table with my head facing away from the door.

We pushed the boy-cut panties up a bit so they were more thong-like and he had access to my ass, as I didn’t feel comfortable taking them off. He started with some nice swats to my ass with his hand, getting me warmed up. I was nervous, but it was kinda nice to be nervous and heightened the experience in some ways. I was facing away from the door so I couldn’t see people looking in, and we were somewhat secluded, in a seperate room off of the living room and most people were outside or downstairs, which helped with my nervousness as well Once I was able to focus on what he was doing and not on the fact that we were doing this in public it stopped being an issue.

Once I was sufficiently warmed up with his hand he began flogging me. We used to have a flogger that I liked better than the one we currently have, not that this one is bad mind you, and at that moment I missed the old one. It was much heavier and had a better thud. Despite missing the other, the flogging was long and yummy. He alternated between slow and fast, hard and soft, all as a good flogging should go. By the time he moved on to the next implement I was so far gone and loving every second of it.

The cane was next and, honestly, I love canes when I’m in the mood for them. I think they have a wonderful combination of burning and stinging, plus they leave the most gorgeous marks (look for that tomorrow for my HNT, by the way). I was deep into masochistic pain-space and loving every second of it so even though the cane hurt there was also an amazingly warm and yummy feeling coursing through me. He alternated between the cane, back to the flogger, then to the cane again, and I would occasionally notice someone at the door behind me, but was unable to tell who it was (various people, I’d assume).

At one point, our friend Ashley, who is gorgeous and graciously invited us to come with her (also my newest favorite friend here in SLC), came into the room and observed. She remarked that I have a nicely rounded butt (a bubble-butt I call it) and Master asked if she’d like to get in a smack with the cane, which he was currently using on me. She readily accepted, warned me that she isn’t nice when it comes to inflicting pain, and asked how hard she could hit. I told her I had a pretty high tolerance, so she gave me a nice hard smack, and let me say: it hurt! It wasn’t unbearable, though, and it was actually really nice (and painful). She hit me a few more times before realizing that Master had only asked her if she wanted “one” smack with the cane, not multiple (though, honestly, she probably could have kept going and neither of us would have cared).

She handed the cane back over and either departed or watched for a bit longer and then departed (I’m not sure). Master asked how I was doing, and when I said “wonderful” he informed me that he would continue until I asked him to stop. I was more than fine with that. I found that I really like multiple fast semi-hard swats with the cane, it creates more of a burning sensation than a stingy sensation, and I really like that better. I asked him for that a few times over the session. He switched back to the flogger, and then back to the cane, all the while I was flying high.

I asked him if he would put his hand over my nose and mouth while he spanked me, which is my favorite method of breath play/asphyxiation. I find it extremely intimate as well as much more solidly breath-affecting and slightly less risky than hand-on-throat. We had seen some gas-mask breath play earlier in the evening which was also suitably arousing. He controlled my breath perfectly, I thought, and spanked my ass with his hand and then with the cane while controlling it. As you probably can imagine, I was taken even higher into that pain-space/sub-space/play-space mindset.

After playing with my breath for a good amount of time he stopped and kissed me and told me that we were done. I still wanted more and could have taken more, but I knew that he was right in stopping before I hit my limit. I got off of the now very sweaty table and he cleaned it with alcohol as I fixed my panties and put my skirt back on, choosing to opt out of the corset since it would be a pain to get back into and I was much more comfortable without it, plus the spiderweb mesh makeshift-shirt looked hot by itself.

We headed to the kitchen where I ate a bit of food and had some water, and then headed outside where we were told that our scene was hot by someone I didn’t know had been observing. I realized I didn’t know who all watched and who didn’t, aside from Ashley, which was a little strange, but not bad (and actually kind of hot). For the remainder of the party we chatted with people, wandered around, and observed more, including a fantastic play piercing session with 50+ needles which was amazing. Master and I played with the idea of flogging my back a couple hours after we ended our session, but it didn’t end up feeling right, so we decided against it.

All in all it was a wonderful party, and I really enjoyed meeting new people or meeting people I had seen at other events. I’m finding that I’m more interested in getting involved with the community here the more I get to know people, which makes sense, and I’m really looking forward to getting into it even more.

A Wicked Tease

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On July 30, 2008

In a Love: Onyx, Smut

Master and I were lying in bed last night and I remarked that he had forgotten to turn off the light in the “office,” the door of which is next to ours in the corner of the small hallway in an L configuration ( | = our bedroom door _ = the office door). Since our door was open, light was coming in, and we like it to be pretty dark when we sleep.

He grumbled a bit, told me to do it, I teasingly refused, and he got up to turn it off. I told him I would have turned it off, but on his way back to the other side of the bed (his side is the side opposite from the door) he straddled my legs to softly grind his cock against my ass before lying back down. He then mentioned that if he hadn’t gotten up he wouldn’t have been able to tease me.

Two can play at that game, I thought, so I leaned over and down and licked at his cockhead before taking it into my mouth. I didn’t want to just briefly tease for a second, I wanted to get him hard and then move away and stop. I figured that would get him to fuck me, at least my mouth if not somewhere else. I bobbed my head a few times until I could feel him harden and tried to pull my head away.

While I was focused on teasing he had moved his hand behind my head, not so it was touching, but so that if I pulled away as I did his hand would catch me and not let me back up. My hair was in a bun, so he easily grabbed hold of that and dug his fingers into the hair around it, pulling at my hair whenever I tried to get away. It was deliciously painful, and because of it I decided to clench my teeth together so that he could not get his cock back in my mouth.

We struggled like that for quite some time. He pushed my mouth against his cock, he slapped my face with his cock, he grabbed and tugged at my hair and asked if I would be a “good girl” to which I frequently shook my head or replied with a “no.” He growled and pulled my hair more, making me whimper and cry out with the pain, twisting the bun so that it tugged at what felt like every strand.

He began to stroke his cock in front of me, and I could no longer resist the temptation of the now extremely hard shaft. I stuck my tongue out and wiggled it against the cockhead while he stroked, then took it into my mouth when he let me. His hand still gripping my bun as he began to fuck my face, or, more accurately, he began to forcefully stroke his cock with my mouth, tugging my head up and down by my hair.

It didn’t take long until he was groaning, grunting, and shooting his come into my mouth. I swallowed it like the good little cunt I am, and proceeded to lick and suck at it for a few moments longer, to make sure I had gotten every last drop.

We don’t often play with my cunt side, but it has been coming out more lately. It’s always delicious when it does. Master loves forcing me, and I love being forced, so it’s really a win-win. In an odd way it is also a way for my Domina side to (somewhat) come out during play with Master, as I can have somewhat more control over the situation, but end up being overpowered by him… but this is something to get into for another post.

Afterward he told me that I should know that I would not be able to tease him like he can tease me. Of course I knew that, but pretending is much more fun than just giving in to that fact.

Cuntpet Revisited, or: A Horrible slave but a Wonderful cuntpet

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On June 28, 2008

In a Love: Onyx, Identity: Submissive

This is something I’ve been meaning to post on for a while now, but I just haven’t been able to get around to it. Some of you may have noticed that I took cuntpet out of the title of this blog as well as out of the nick I was using (scarlet lotus cuntpet–now scarlet lotus sexgeek). Cuntpet.com still forwards to this site, and will for quite some time until/unless I choose to do something else with it, and I do still embrace my cuntpet-hood, it was not for that reason that I have taken it out, for it is still in the subtitle “24/7 submissive cuntpet” because that’s how I identify.

Cuntpet has come to be an identity for me, not just a name. This was also it’s original intention but I didn’t realize what that meant at the time. Another original intention of cuntpet was simply to get away from the term “slave.”

I dislike “slave” as my personal identity, and although I used to embrace it, I did not do so wholeheartedly. There has always been something not quite right about it for me, which brought me to the search for something different. I don’t like the historical connotations, or the indication that as a slave I would have no choice whatsoever. While I do think that is one thing which distinguishes slave from sub I also did not (and do not) embrace sub (though I embrace submissive, but that’s for another post). I believe that all consensual slaves have a choice, as they are choosing to be a slave, otherwise it cannot be consensual.

I also dislike the “I’m a slave, therefore somehow better than just a sub” mentality, though it’s nearly impossible to get away from. Not everyone feels like this, of course, and not everyone thinks there’s that sort of hierarchy within different BDSM roles. I don’t believe that someone who is a bedroom-only submissive is any more or less of a submissive than someone who is submissive in a 24/7 M/s relationship.

I didn’t realize how much I have started to dislike the identity of slave for me (not for others who choose to embrace it, just for me personally) until Master and I were talking earlier this week and he mentioned that I signed up to be his slave (which therefore has certain requirements along with it, that too is another post). It wasn’t appropriate at the time to correct him, though I mentioned it roundaboutly later, but inside my head I screamed “not slave! Cuntpet!” Though in some ways they mean the same thing. I even went through and changed all the references to me as “slave” in our contract, protocols, etc. to read “cuntpet” as you can see.

My idea of what it means to be a cuntpet has changed slightly since my original conception of it:

My use of the term “cuntpet” incorporates four dynamics within it: Owner/cunt, Owner/servant, Owner/fucktoy, and Owner/pet. All of these are similar and different in their own ways, some overlap to an extent, some are almost contradictory, and all of which I identify with and either have or am striving to have in my current relationship.

Owner/cunt is an identity which I have lifted from a post by cunt of Under His Hand, which I take to mean as a way of having fun with bratting and force fetishism within an Owner/owned framework. As she said: “I get to have my “force fetish” scratched without it having hidden meanings of anything bad. I get to dance out of reach and sing “make me” and then run like hell, because he will make me and it will hurt.” Basically I see this aspect as the ability to be stubborn and strong-willed at times, the ability to not be the “perfect slave,” and to play with force, bratting, but also not being able to get away with it, and being completely overpowered in the end.

The cunt aspect of my submissiveness is almost directly opposed to many ideas of what a “slave” or even a 24/7 submissive “should” be. I don’t subscribe to “should”s and think that everyone is able to embrace whatever label they so choose, because labels are not boxes, but categories, and nothing is confined to just one category (my complete view of labels will be another post).

Owner/servant is slightly more self-explanatory. I have come to think of this in some ways as being his personal assistant. I am here to assist him in any way he needs/desires, be that maintaining the cleanliness of the house, fetching him drinks, preparing meals, and all those other daily little things. This aspect of my submission to him does not come as easily to me as the other three aspects do, but mostly that is due to inherent procrastination and not the desire not to serve him.

I love doing things for him, don’t get me wrong. I love the look of happiness he gets on his face when I do something for him, and I love the warm feeling I get from serving him, but sometimes (like when I’m sore and have trouble moving, or when I’m in the middle of something else) it is difficult for me to do for him as quickly as he or I would like. I believe that servant/personal assistant (pa) is the weakest aspect of my submission, and something which I need to work more on, both for him and for me as well.

Owner/fucktoy incorporates the sexual aspects of my submission to him. This aspect represents my sexual willingness and desires, not encompassed by the other aspects. This is my having given over my body to him as his property, my willingness and desire to be used by him in any way he desires. Different from the cunt aspect which craves force, this aspect is the one which simply craves to be used like a whore, like a toy.

Willingness is a big part of this aspect. It’s about embracing and releasing my inner harlot, it’s about being an eager and shameless fucktoy for his (and my own) pleasure. It’s about giving in to all those sexual desires quaking within me. It’s about being able to be free in my sexuality. The ability to be fucked hard and thoroughly without any thought to my own pleasure, but deriving pleasure simply from being used exactly as we desire.

Owner/pet is also somewhat self-explanatory, though also has a bit of the servant and fucktoy aspects in it as well, which is part of why I chose cuntpet (though mostly because it was the best sounding and cuntservanttoypet is too long and doesn’t sound nearly as good). I have always said that I love to be fucked like a dirty whore but also pampered like a prized pet, depending on my mood and the mood of my Owner. Also, one of Master’s favorite terms for me is to call me his pet, it has been for a very long time.

This is the aspect which in some ways covers all the rest, but only with explanation, I think. If I was just to consider myself a pet the other aspects would not come through the same way as they do with cuntpet, though As I said in my first definition of cuntpet: pets can be strong and willful, independent, stubborn, and spirited, while at the same time being able to be tamed.

My darling Kat had a saying “A wild horse doesn’t need to be broken. If she is tamed properly she will still have fire in her eyes while eating out of the palm of your hand.” This quote, in some ways, encompasses the cunt, pet, and servant aspects. I am looking to be tamed, while still retaining everything about me. I desire to be overpowered, tamed, and trained into the mental mindset of each of the other aspects.

Cunt and fucktoy come the easiest to me, then pet, and servant. Even though I have the desire to serve and to do for him I have become jaded over the ten plus years I have been exploring and playing with aspects of my submission, not to mention it’s difficult to work up the desire to clean when it is way too hot outside and in (we lack air conditioning) and when I have things I want to write, and when… the list of excuses goes on. I do have the desire, but inertia is so much easier to give into rather than fight.

We are making massive steps forward, however. I am closer to the mindset I desire than I have been ever before, and we are working better than we have ever before. I constantly marvel at the fact that despite living together for two years, being together for three, I still elate when he comes home from work, or when I know I will see him after being apart for hours. I still ache for his touch, and desire to explore more with him.

One of our major downfalls was that our relationship started as completely sexual-based when I (we?) desired to have a mental D/s connection. Due to lots of hard work, however, we are closer to Owner and cuntpet than we have been before.

Impromptu Ravishment Play

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On June 28, 2008

In a Love: Onyx, Smut

Please note: this post will contain talk of ravishment/rape play and is not meant to be a trigger for anyone who may have suffered from sexual assault. This post or participation in this activity does not condone any sort of non-consensual sexual activity.

As Tart said, “Do I want actual rape? Good lord no!” And I completely agree. I can’t express my feelings of horror when I think that people actually think it is acceptable to have sex with someone completely against their will, and yet I find consensual play incredibly arousing. Playing with vulnerability and putting myself in seemingly vulnerable situations is one of the strongest lures I have to BDSM in general, and is my pull to rape play.

There is something powerful in consensually giving oneself to another, something I’ve talked about numerous times before. Willfully putting oneself in the power of another to create the illusion of helplessness while still having some measure of control is all power play is about. Rape play is another form of power play, obviously, as most rape is about power, not about sex. Being able to pretend to struggle, to be “overpowered” and “forced” into submission is something which appeals to my force fetish and allows an outlet for my strong-willed and stubborn nature while also being in the context of Master’s and my relationship.

As said before: do I want to be raped? Do I want to be taken against my will? Of course not! I would even say: hell no! However, rape play is about the blending of one person’s will to struggle and be overpowered and the other’s will to overpower. It’s about mutual fantasies being fulfilled, and fully consensual and safe, even if it may not always completely feel like it in the moment.

That said, on to the scenario.

Master and I were lying in bed, talking, teasing each other. He moved on top of me and grabbed my wrists as he often does, I struggled a little more than usual, and he became more forceful. As he became more forceful I began to struggle even more, saying “no” and “stop” and trying (not too hard) to get out of his grasp. He told me what he was going to do to me, he slid a finger inside me and told me how wet I was, that I wanted it, and I disagreed.

He began fucking me hard, wonderfully, and he continued teasing me about my desire, which I constantly refused to admit until he slowed down and then took his cock out of me. I whimpered and refused to admit it for a few moments before giving in, furthering the scenario by admitting to be a horny slut, begging to be fucked, begging to be used, begging for his cum.

The few force scenes that we’ve done have ended that way. It’s a long-time fantasy of mine, being discovered as a slut, being called out on it even if I’m pretending to resist. It is something Master loves as well, he’s the one who always turns it to that aspect of it. “Non-consent” erotic stories (or, consensual non-consent scenarios) were what lead me to BDSM in the first place.

These are desires that, when I look into the origin of them, don’t make much logical sense. But, then, what desires really do? The desire to be out of control for me (a control freak) is a big mixture of scary, exciting, and arousing. The same can be said for vulnerability. One of the nice things about rape play is that it allows me to be scared in a way that regular play does not. I can work with feeling scared and vulnerable in a space where I can let those emotions out while still knowing that I am safe and cared for (despite the appearance of otherwise from an unknowing outside observer).

ThunderFuck

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On June 12, 2008

In a Love: Onyx, Smut

Last night I was so close to cumming I just couldn’t. I was right on the edge, but something just didn’t click the way it should have, and I ended up frustrated, though less frustrated than I was a few months ago when the similar thing happened. Part of (or maybe the entirety of) the reason I was less frustrated was because of the difference in the relationship dynamics between Master and me. I was annoyed that I didn’t cum, and he said something along the lines of “be thankful you got that much” and it somehow put things in perspective.

Despite not cumming, it was still a wonderful and delicious fucking session. He hadn’t fucked me since Sunday and said I was spoiled by our vacation, during which we had sex nearly every night. He had me admit to how badly I wanted him to fuck me, and then he fucked me nice and hard, my legs on his shoulders, him pinning me down as he rammed into me. It was good, and perfect, and one of my favorite positions.

There was thunder and lightening outside, and after he came Master opened the blinds so we could see the streaks of light across the sky. Master and I both are big fans of thunder and lightening, and he began fingering me while I was laying with my head near the foot of the bed so that I could watch the sky light up. He had me rub my clit, and after I asked to cum he told me that I could after the next lightning strike.

I whimpered and moaned and tried to hold on as long as I could, but there was a definite gap, as lightning had just struck before I asked. I held on for so long that when he finally told me I could cum, I couldn’t. I was so close but I had trouble letting go, and I ended up not cumming at all. I was disappointed, frustrated, and so close to the edge that I felt like I was going to pop, but for some reason I just… couldn’t!

But, his words to put me back into my place, remind me that cumming is a privilege, not a right, and that really did the trick. I consider this a testament to the way our relationship has furthered, and him saying it as a testament to that as well. I didn’t feel any resentment or annoyance, I was just content with what he had said. All the discomfort and disappointment melted away into loving him.

That’s right, I thought, I should be lucky he gave me the pleasure that he did. Not because I don’t deserve it, but because I have chosen to give my body and my self over to him to do with as he pleases. If my cumming pleases him, then I should cum. If my hanging right on the edge so long that I am somehow unable to cum pleases him, then I shouldn’t cum. This is what I have been wanting for, to feel owned, to be cherished, and even to be denied if necessary.