Kink In Exile

Once again, my apologies for the late post.  Instead of frantically writing toward my self-imposed deadline this week I was frantically writing for an actual publication deadline and filling my spare time with concerts and dinner dates.  I think before too long this blog will be renamed “Kink in Mecca.” 

There are a lot of things on my mind just now so it might be another week before you get a nice formal not-all-about-me kind of post.  As I mentioned in my last post, I went to the TNG4 conference last weekend, which was an educational and play event for people ages 18-35.  It was a fairly small event, but in terms of workshops one of the best I had attended. It is really interesting to me to be part of a group of people who came into kink basically without resistance.  Now, I’m sure that there are people my age who have faced greater challenges and more opposition, but one of the things I keep noticing is how much freedom we take for granted.  It’s beautiful.  Sometimes kink is presented in a bubble and I don’t like that, I don’t like compartmentalization in my life, and so when I see people bringing their cultural heritage into their kink, or their art, or their work even, it’s a beautiful thing to me. 

I’m also having a lot of fun getting to know a new kink community here in the bay area, and playing with someone I’ve known for a while but haven’t really spent a lot of time with before moving out here. 

Oh, and I have a new safeword: “I’m calling the cops you fucking psycho.” Works great

First off, my apologies for the delayed post; I was attending the TNG4 conference, which was amazing.

This morning I went to a workshop on designing assignments for submissives.  It was interesting because one of the key things it covered was what do you hope to accomplish with this assignment.  Now I realize that assignments and service are different things, but this still falls into the d/s realm for me and as I’ve been exploring that of late and exploring the idea of receiving service, and so it got me thinking…

Usually when I ask questions no one answers, but I’m hoping that by targeting service oriented submissives I might get more responses or more thought-out responses.  Then again, I could just be being a presumptuous bitch.  In any case, my question is what do you get out of service?  Does it depend on the kind of service you’re providing (for example washing floors vs. foot worship vs. computer repairs)?  What do you expect out of service?  Do you have any fears or concerns when providing service or negotiating a service based relationship?

I’m curious because I am really interested in this kind of dynamic but the boundaries and logic of it still seems really unclear to me.

On Thursday I started a job in a professional dungeon.

Lesson number one: my play partners are here for my pleasure, my clients are here for their own pleasure. This is not actually surprising in the least, but it does take getting used to. In my first session I picked up a cane only to realize that my favorite instrument is perhaps less than ideally suited for causing very small amounts of pain and leaving absolutely no marks.

One might be tempted to believe that a man crawling around on his knees, calling me mistress, and thanking me for hurting him is a man I am in control of. One would be wrong; this is a customer service job first and foremost. While I have the strange luck to be working in a place that benefits from the repeat business of respectful, educated, and articulate clients, many of whom I can envision playing with in a non-work environment, as long as they are clients I am putting on a show. I may well enjoy dripping wax on an erect penis while my co-worker smothers its owner, but I do not personally enjoy wearing 6-inch platforms for the majority of an 8 hour shift. I do it because it’s my job, just like bankers wear suits because it’s their job.

This also makes me think of the degree to which a top takes discomfort during a scene. For example, my co-worker (the one smothering the CBT client in the above paragraph holds her breath with him. Not because she is a pro, mind you, but because she is a good top. When she releases him, he gasps for air. She, however, gently takes a breath without ever letting him know she was matching his punishment second for second.

This is definitely an interesting job, and I look forward to seeing where it takes me. One thing I am already noticing is that I want to play hard when I’m off the clock. I want to beat a man’s ass without regard for his ability to sit the next day, and I don’t want to do it in heels.

This is my sanity break in which I get to stop thinking about the piece of smut I should be writing and do a 5 minute rant on something else that’s amusing me at the moment. And right now I am highly amused by how I actually look when I write all those sex, sultry things with characters who wear corsets 24/7. I’m wearing the baggiest jeans I own, a tank top that makes me look slightly pregnant, and a sweater I stole from a boy I’m sleeping with. To complete this outfit, I have on funky glasses, red patent leather Doc Martins, and no make up. This very sexy look is complimented by the ultimate porn writer’s accessory – the soy chai latte.

And now back to the world of sultry pouts, tightly laced corsets, and impossibly high heels…