Pondering hoods - Kink Of The Week

I distinctly remember the first time I saw someone wearing a hood. It was a beautiful slave, at a party. Her master had her on a leash and she was wearing very high heels. The hood was made of leather and covered her head completely. She could not see anything. She completely depended on him for guidance. She was very calm and he was very nonchalant, walking around with her casually. Tying her to a post sometimes, showing her off. All I could think was: "I want a hood like that".

The next time I saw hoods was when I was in California. A good friend took me and his slave to some stores. One of them had the biggest collection of hoods I had ever seen. We were shopping for a kinky dress and I was too shy to tell them I wanted to try one of the hoods. So I admired them secretly. They looked great. Leather hoods, latex hoods, gas masks, hoods with openings, hoods without openings. Just looking at them made my knees weak.

A hood shows form. It is round and smooth. To me it shows perfection. I love looking at people wearing hoods. I can't keep my eyes off them. You know there is a person inside. But that doesn't matter. All that matters is the perfect form and the complete surrender of that person to his or her Master. Giving up their personality, being anonymous. I want to touch the leather. Or the latex. Or whatever fabric it is made from.

I love hoods. As I wrote earlier in the post that lists my kinks, I love wearing hoods, even more than I like watching people wear them. It makes me surrender completely. I don't have to watch out for what comes next. I can hear everything much clearer, but more distant at the same time. When I wear a hood, I know all my imperfections are hidden. All I have become is a body. It calms me. Lately I have come to a realization though. I tend to withdraw when I surrender. When I am wearing a hood, I can concentrate on the other person for a while. But soon it becomes harder and harder. I register sensations, but nothing else. I can't interact anymore. I can't talk coherently. I can't think. I just am. It feels great. I am in subspace. It feels like I am in heaven. But it is really difficult to serve someone well when I am in that state. I can't focus on him. I can hear, but not really understand. I can obey, but not concentrate. He can use my body, but not count on my mind. Which makes me wonder. Why do dominants like their subs and slaves in a hood?

Kink related song - 30 days of kink

Day 9. Post a kink related song or music video you enjoy.

I enjoy different type of songs. Sometimes I hear something kinky in the lyrics. Sometimes the music brings me to a submissive place. Sometimes a voice can take me to a dark place. Sometimes the combination brings back memories. 

One day at bondage night, our host played a song for us by Rammstein. It is a German band. The lyrics are posted here, with their English translation. It really is the only kink related song that is perceived as such by everyone.



What I like about this song is its directness and the rawness. I like lots of different types of music, from David Bowie to Eminem. From Roxy Music to Korn.  What I like depends on my mood, the venue, the company I am in, the occasion. Most songs I associate with kink because I heard it at a play party. Or because I am kinky and I interpret the text that way. With the exception of this song. Sometimes I enjoy it. Sometimes it annoys me. Sometimes I laugh at it. But it is always a kink related song, no matter how I look at it or how I feel. And other people think so too, as the text on youtube states:

" Ich tu dir Weh" (I hurt you) is the second single from the 2009 album Liebe ist für alle da by the German band Rammstein. Mainly because of the sado-masochistic content of this song, the album was placed on the "index" maintained by the German Bundesprüfstelle für jugendgefährdende Medien. In May 2010, the original uncensored album and the single were unindexed and consequently released in Germany."

I am happy I got this day out of the way and can return to more interesting parts of the series....

 

Kinky image - 30 days of kink

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I need a different mindset

I need a different mindset. A lot of what I write here is about me. That has several reasons:  I can't presume to know what the people I interact with think, feel or want. And I don't want to invade their privacy by describing here what they do and what they think, say or feel. But it is also because I am very busy thinking about myself.
When I displease one of my Masters (My state changed recently, MrReg has decided to share me with someone, but that is the topic of another blog. Maybe), I am upset because he is upset with me. Or angry with me. Or annoyed with me. Or displeased with me. Not because I displeased him. Or upset him. Or made him angry with me. Or because I annoyed him.

 

 Realization

Today I was running. When I run I think a lot. About work. About my relationships. What is said to me. What it means. The other day I was told I was being selfish. I realized that after not talking to him all day, I was thinking about him. Not about how I felt about him, but how he might be feeling and I was genuinely upset because I disappointed him in a time like this. Not because I disappointed him, but because he was disappointed and displeased. The fact that I was the person who did that makes it worse, because I am supposed to be dedicated to him. To serve him. And to want to please him. Not please him because it makes me feel good. But please him because it makes him feel good.

I need a different mindset. And I am working on it.

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I love canes

Kink of the week: Canes

The first time Mr Reg took me to play somewhere outside our home, I was spanked thoroughly. His friend put me over his knee and worked my ass for a long time. My buttocks were glowing and warm. I was excited. I had submitted completely. Next, he tied me to a vault. My arms and feet against the legs. I could not move and was blind folded.

My first caning

The pain from the first blow startled me. I felt a rush of adrenaline flow through my veins. Then the sting followed, right after impact. That was pure pleasure. I don't remember how many hits I received. They were aimed at my ass and my legs. After a while I was told I would receive three more. I felt relieved and disappointed at the same time.

 

 Where it hits me

I love the feeling of the cane on my ass and legs. However, I really don't like feeling it on my outer thighs. For some reason it doesn't sting there, it feels damaging. The feeling I get the second after the cane hits my flesh is one of destruction, not pleasure. It hurts in a bad way. Obviously my inner thighs are even more sensitive, but being hit there has an erotic aspect to it. The worst thing is being hit on my feet. I run as a way to workout and to clear my mind. Being hit on my feet feels crippling. Even if done lightly.

I hate thick canes

Mr Reg bought a cane soon after my first caning. And then he started buying more. Thicker canes, fiber glass canes, rubber canes etc. I don't really like thick canes. The feeling when I get hit is more thuddy, not stingy. It feels like I might break. One day we had another date with our friend. When we came to his hotel room, he showed us the thick cane he brought with him. It really scared me. He hit me with it, and it was really difficult to handle the blows. Only after hitting me with something else putting me in a light form of sub space, I was able to handle the hits. Thinking about that one makes my heart beat faster and I become excited just thinking about how afraid I was of it. I love being scared like that...

The really thick one left some marks

Why I love canes

I love canes. I love the stingy feeling right after impact. I love being close to the person that handles the cane. Unlike whips and other implements, canes require the other person to be close. And because of the shape and form the person using the cane can really control how it will hit me: how fast it hits me, how hard it hits me, where it hits me. I love the swooshing sound it makes and the sound of the impact. It is a symbol of punishment. That excites me. Even though I have never been punished with it. I think I like the feeling too much for that ;) And last but not least I love the marks that it leaves. The two red stripes with white in the middle make me smile for weeks after being beaten with it. I love canes :)

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My ambivalence towards marks

Kink of the week: Marks

The first time I was caned I was appalled by the bruising it caused. After a while they faded (but not before turning yellow and purple and all the other ugly colors) and what remained were the cane marks. I loved those! They looked very different compared to the bruises: neatly aligned in a row, on my ass and legs. All the same color: two red stripes with a little white line in the middle.

This basically has not changed. I don't like bruising but love marks from a cane or sharp things. They remind me of the event, the person who caused them, the feeling it gave me and it somehow serves as a measure of the pain I endured.

Marks just after the fact

Hiding at home

One problem with marks is the kids. We are pretty open in our house. The bathroom door is almost never locked. When I shower, the kids walk in all the time. To brush their teeth, ask a question etc. When I am bruised, I need to make sure they don't see it. I walk around in a bath robe, need to get up early to make sure I shower before they wake up, and make sure my clothes cover my bruises.

Dating and going out

I date other people apart from MrReg, as I described here. Obviously all people are different, so some people I date are not into pain and don't like marks. A couple of months ago I planned a play date. Usually I end up with plenty of marks. Mostly on my ass and my legs. The timing was bad though; a couple of days later I was supposed to go on a date with a friend who does not like marks. There would be no way I could hide them so I asked MrReg to go easy on me and not to mark me. Thankfully he agreed and I could go on my date unmarked. A similar situation ended differently: right after a play date that would leave me marked we would go to the sauna. I expressed my doubts to MrReg but he did not think it was a big deal. This time I would have to go out with the marks. In the sauna I wore a towel around my waste most of the time, to hide my bruises. According to a friend, it looked like I had been in an accident. I was very self conscious, because my legs were so bruised. Not neatly marked, but black and blue. Under normal circumstances I like being in the sauna; looking at people, being looked at by people. This time I enjoyed the company, but not so much the sauna experience of being naked.

Showing off

I don't like bruises. I don't like looking at bruises. But, if I see a sub or slave with marks and bruises, I envy them. I wonder about what caused it. What the occasion was. How they interacted together. And I like to show off my own marks. To other subs and slaves. As a trophy. To sadists. As a token of my masochism.

Body

As I said, my feelings about marks are ambivalent. I was not going to write for this weeks kink of the week, because marks are not a kink for me. However, the other day a friend made a remark that got me thinking. He said he would like to see me marked. As an aberration. Which made me realize something: it is not about what caused the marks, it is about what is marked. It is about my body being altered. Temporarily of course. But still. Maybe that is really why I have conflicting thoughts about marks. It has something to do with the ambivalence I feel towards myself and my body.


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What I remember

Memories have always fascinated me.  
 

Missing memories

When I was little girl I suffered from a concussion. I was on my way to school in winter, and was sliding on little hills and playing around. At a certain point I fell and hit my head on the frozen ground. My sister walked me to school and the janitor brought me home in his car. My mom called the doctor. I don't have any recollection of this at all. But I have vivid images in my head when I write this down. Like memories. Even though I know they aren't. They feel like real memories.

Same event, different memories

When I was an adolescent, my parents divorced. My mom, my dad, my sisters, my brother, me, everyone has different memories of it, even about the order of events.  Similarly, After Mr Reg and me visit friends or a new place, he will talk about things he saw there. I remember conversations I had, things people have said to each other and the presence of certain people. We know we were at the same place at the same time, but we remember different things and remember the same things differently.

Reappearing memories

I wrote about my first kinky sexual experiences in a previous post. The thing that doesn't seize to amaze me is that the memories of my kinky sex life disappeared completely. Mr Reg and me started in a vanilla relation, and I slowly forgot the kinky things my former boyfriend used to do. Not deliberately, but somehow it happened anyway. When Mr Reg and me started to be kinky in the bed room, it did not come back to me. Only after meeting someone else, who asked me about my fantasies and previous experiences, these memories came back to me. Not all at once, but slowly. And I realized I had more experience than I knew. It felt like I reinvented myself, but a healthier happier version than before.

New memories

I have a very active mind. However, I am very bad at remembering names, or even faces. I am not a visually oriented person. If you take me to a city, I won't remember 90% of the places we visit. Not that I don't enjoy it, I just don't remember. But I do remember parts of the conversation we have during that trip. And the feeling it gave me being with you. If we have sex, I might forget what your body looks like exactly. But I will remember what you whispered in my ear. And how it felt to be with you. What we talked about. When I think of you, I think of your presence, your energy. I think of the things you have said to me. I think of what you feel like. And then, but only then... I might think of what you look like.

Obviously, I like to look at gorgeous bodies just as much as the next girl. But what I remember, that is a completely different story and very personal..... memories have always fascinated me.



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