Holy hell new experiences!

First, I now know how to drive some stunt tricks and how to shoot a variety of guns. I know how to tie tourniquets, do CPR, and do a variety of bandages and medical triage procedures. It’s been a long week, but I do feel better equipped to handle emergencies. I also am considerably more confident when driving.

Second, I went on a weekend trip with some kinky friends, and it was amazing! I was a little worried that I’d be the 7th wheel, but you’d have to try really hard to feel like that with this group of people. Instead, the weekend was awesome, and full of new experiences and sexy fun times.

I expanded on my very hesitant exploration of bisexuality. I made out with almost everyone there (letting out my inner slut a little bit…), including the women. I helped hitachi a girl, although I was a bit hesitant with that. Women went down on me – well, women and men went down on me – and I had screaming orgasms. I let my inner stripper self come out, and got down and dirty with some dance songs. I love dancing, it’s exhilarating and makes me feel sexy.

I also had it reinforced that I really cannot handle large man parts. I’m debating asking my girl doctor if there is anything they can do to facilitate sexy fun times without unwanted pain.

Basically, it was a weekend of debauchery. I’m surprisingly not concerned with my slutty-ness, at least not yet. We’ll see how these feelings progress as the week goes on :).


After a great weekend, my emo attitude from last week is almost entirely gone. Amazing what friends, dancing, and pain can do for a girl!

First off, I bought some lingerie a little over a week ago. Some of it was too big (perils of buying online and being curvy), but the stockings and garter set fit perfectly. This weekend was my first chance to wear them, and it was great. Somehow wearing thigh-high stockings with garters makes me feel incredibly alluring and sexy. It’s also a great reminder of femininity.

In general, going to this month’s Rapture event really amped up my mood. I was able to try a bunch of things for the first time, I met some new people, and I got to hang out with some really good friends. Since I live across the city, I don’t see these folks as much as I’d like. I forgot how much I enjoy their company. I really appreciate being able to be myself without any judgement. One benefit of moving this month will be being closer to these folks, enabling us to hang out more.

Now, for the things I tried. I actually tied someone else up all by myself! I did a chest harness and hogtied my friend, and then her boyfriend stepped in and did knife play on her. I was able to get it all to stay and she couldn’t get out, which was awesome. It was kind of strange because when I finished I realized there were a bunch of people watching me. I didn’t ever think I’d enjoy being the one doing the tying, but I did. I think it was primarily because I could joke with my friend, and try out the things I wish I could have done to me.

That experience is one more step along my journey of admitting my internal switchy-ness. I was thinking about this on my commute this morning, and how I enjoy teasing people and messing with them a bit. I like turning the tables every now and then (or trying to). For rope, I just love everything about it, and it’s fun.

Another new thing for me was experimenting a bit deeper with breath play. It still frightens me, and the only reason I was willing to go there was because this person is truly an expert. Breath play doesn’t have to involve smothering or being choked out, but can include general moderation of the way in which you breath. Really, it was mainly a mindfuck – he wasn’t cutting off my air, but his hand around my throat made me think he was so I would stop breathing. It intensified the other sensations we were experimenting with, and I surprised myself by enjoying it.

I also worked up the nerve to try needle play. This one was a biggie for me. It was kind of funny, I was watching my friend do a pretty intense needle play scene from a distance, and someone caught my expressions. (I have a horrible poker face.) Apparently, I looked confused and somewhat upset by the scene. I admitted that needles squick me out – something about going in and out of the skin just freaks me out. Logically, I knew it probably didn’t hurt that badly, but still. Despite my fear and uncertainty, I really like to try things before I judge them, and this person offered to let me try it. Crazy enough, I actually enjoyed it. On my arm, I didn’t even really feel the needle at all. Same on my thigh. On my back, however, it hurt quite a bit more. I don’t know what it is, but that type of pain immediately sent me on an endorphin high, and I came pretty close to getting off on it (and there were just 3 needles). I should’ve suspected I’d like it, given my propensity for playing with thumbtacks. It’s not something I can do to myself because of the squicky factor, but I enjoyed doing it with someone else.

I was comparing needles to cutting in my mind, and trying to figure out how I feel about it. I’ve written before on the cutting scene I did and how it really messed with my mind. It’s basically too edgy for me. Needles, though, while still being edgier (and considered more extreme by many BDSM players), are far less dangerous. As long as you avoid veins, your many layers of skin can pretty much handle being pricked without much danger. If you use small needles, than there’s not a lot of blood, few (if any) lasting marks, and yet you can still get endorphins and pain/release. Anyhow, I definitely surprised the hell out of myself for enjoying it.

Lastly, I also did some rough body play for the first time. This has actually left some marks, which rarely happens, so that’s kind of interesting. I had a lot of fun with it, particularly because it involves a lot more physical contact, intimacy, and reinforces the physical overpowerment that I enjoy.

Overall, the evening revisited my exploration of pain quite a bit. It was a lot of fun, and generally helped me release some of my frustration from school and life. I’m still not comfortable with masochism, especially as I can enjoy and tolerate relatively heavy amounts of pain, but I’m trying to just roll with it. I rationalize things because I enjoy them, they’re consensual, and they don’t cause lasting harm. Despite that, my discomfort comes from the associations with self-harm and that it really doesn’t scream “I’m a healthy, sane person” when you enjoy someone beating up on you or jabbing you with needles. In many ways I love being unique, but I’m not fully comfortable being downright edgy either.  Since I went a few months without any type of intense/edgy pain, I know it isn’t necessarily a need I have, but it is something I can enjoy quite a bit. That makes me feel a bit better about it, but I’m still not sure the role my masochism will (or should) have in future relationships.


My parents are increasingly unhappy about my job decision. Whenever I talk to my mom, she brings up Afghanistan with this very worried tone. My father just keeps asking if I’ve had other offers or if I’m still applying to places. It’s comforting to know they care that much, but I really think I’m making the best choice given my options and situation. Of course, this is all assuming I pass the medical exams this week and the security clearance. If I hate the job, I can always keep applying elsewhere after I’ve started work. It’s weird to have my folks vocally worried about me, though, especially my dad. He tends to be quieter and not as emotional, so it was a tad disconcerting to hear his concern.

I had a pretty awesome weekend, which was definitely necessary after this past week. I even got to check another thing off my list – snow tubing! It was really fun, and kind of hysterical given it was about 50 degrees and there was no snow anywhere but on the course. I also made a sort of interesting connection. I learned these friends are both familiar with kink, one is even on fetlife. I also realized these are my most adventurous friends in this area in that they are usually down for going out and exploring town or trying some new activity with me. It makes total sense that the adventurous friends are also the open to kink/kinky ones.

I also went to the Crucible for the first time on Saturday, which was a really amazing time. I learned that forced orgasms are something that may be fun to think about but are better left out of my reality. It was also interesting to compare that space to the Playhouse. I’d say that the Crucible is better if you’re looking for a space to have a scene with dungeon equipment and maybe some public exposure but still want a great deal of intimacy with your partner. The one time I went to the Playhouse was for BBN, and it was much more of a “party” vibe in comparison. Strange to think of a dungeon as refined, but that’s the word I’d use for the Crucible, at least compared to what I thought it’d be.

In other things, I’ve been bit by the writing bug again lately. It started Wednesday in class, when to get through the boredom (nothing like a 3 hour lecture on something you’ve written 40 pages on for another class) and the burst of emotion, I started drafting poetry again. I think the real catalysts to this creative burst were the open mic and the burlesque on Sunday. Whenever I see a really good show, attend a great open mic, etc. I end up writing, singing, sketching, and everything again. These are my lost hobbies, in the sense that I get so busy with school and work that I kind of forget about the right side of my brain. I ended up writing one decent poem and a short story. I might post them at some point, we’ll see. It’s kind of good timing – who knows, maybe if I end up without work for a few weeks I’ll just write a novel (more likely a novella) or something. Why not, right? I wrote 2,000 words in one night, so it shouldn’t be too tough to get 15,000 in a few weeks. I doubt it’d be something people would want to read, but I do like writing. That should be obvious, given this blog.

In the course of a conversation with a friend, I realized I’d been keeping this journal for 15 months. I’ve journaled off and on all my life, but never made it more than 2 consecutive months. I’m sort of amazed that I’ve managed to sustain it for this long. I think, if anything, it’s just a factor of how confusing and crazy things have been over the last year or so. Getting involved with the kinky community has necessitated a non-judgmental place to process. I do better talking through my feelings with friends, but kinky stuff is more private than that would allow most times.

And for a total random note: Getting lost in DC is better than in Pittsburgh since you don’t end up going through a bridge and tunnel and having to go 20 miles before turning around, but worse because you always (if you’re me) end up in shady parts of town between 12-2am. Lesson here is to stop being overconfident about my navigational abilities and surrender to the GPS.

Who are you? ~ Original Poem (slam style)

This was another old poem, actually written to be read in live performance (kind of the old poetry slam type of dealio). There is a very deliberate rhythm that is meant to be heard when reading/listening. I’m not sure if that rhythm translated – I tried to use line breaks, punctuation, and bolding to translate the specific emphases into text. Either way, I still have a fondness for the piece.


Who are you –

Who has made me think, who has encouraged me to question?

I need more people like you.

More people who understand, who encourage.

I know I can be the best if I truly want to be,

But I don’t want to be the best, just the best me.

But people seem to stifle me, to put down my opinions, to tell me I can’t succeed –

Is it so much to want to dream,

To want to move beyond this life into a realm beyond that of my deepest imagining?

I want so much from life – I want to love and live and learn.

People tell me that’s not good enough. That I need a plan, that I need to be realistic;

But you — You mysterious entity never truly insult me.

You give me something to think about, you pose a question and give me time to answer it without rushing my answer.

You let me dream.

Though you never encourage the impossible – You understand your limits and my own,

But you know how to stretch them.

It isn’t about being perfect, or being beautiful, or being optimistic – It’s about being real;

And reality can sometimes feel like a dream,

And in dreams all is perfect,

But perfection is in the eye of the beholder

And in my eyes,

I see you.

And I say thank you

For being there

For being true.