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A Busy Night

It was a busy night in the Dungeon...I had just completed a Tantric session with Arjuna. We were in aftercare, and I was fucking him while eating Sage's ripe pussy when I remembered that I had also been invited to hold space for Seelie, while she journeyed into surrender. I said a very rushed yet sincere goodbye, and left the warm nest of Arjuna and Sage to go to Seelie.

Seelie is my friend, my lover's lover, and my sometimes lover. Our relationship is not exactly clear to either of us, but she is special to me. Dear to me. She asked me to be there with her, because she wanted to go very deeply into surrender and wanted to know that I would hold her, and that I would encourage Rascal to take her deeper than he would normally dare to go.

And as I arrived, I found Rascal atop the St Andrew's Cross, flogging Seelie on her back, reddened by the multiple touches with the mooseskin flogger that Rascal favors. I looked at him, "where do you want me?" I mouthed. "Here." He quickly came down from the cross, and placed me in front of Seelie, my back to the cross.

Passers-by gaped. The photographer shot a bunch of stills.

"Seelie, beautiful Seelie. I am here." I took off my top so our breasts were touching. Mine: heavy. Huge dark nipples. Hers: gorgeously assymetrical, nipples that are so firm and so erect that I long to take them into my mouth, and do, while Rascal beats her with his mooseskin flogger. The purple one.

Seelie in her stockings and heels and me barefoot in my leather skirt.

"Make him hurt me" she whispered.

I gave him the hand motion. That one that says bring it on. She needs. She wants. More.

He loves her deeply. I am aware of this, and while it sometimes pains me how very much he loves her, I support him in this love as best I can. His love for her sometimes keeps him from taking her as deeply as she wants to go into the surrender to pain. Ergo the invitation to me. Hold space for me, help him take me where I need to go.

Some know the exquisite surrender, the purging of everything, the presence only of the sensation that some call pain. Those of us who know this intimately know what she wanted. What she needed.

Come on Rascal, bring it on. This is what she requires of you now. Serve this goddess, this Goddess as she shows up for you here. Shows up in willing surrender to your arm, your will, your mooseskin flogger.

And she is crying, but not quite there. ‘More’ I motion. More.

"Seelie," he whispers, " I have a surprise for you."

And out it comes, a cane. Bamboo. Flexible and thin. He lightly taps her. Too light I think, but she reacts instantly, reflexively. Pulls back, jukes.

One.
"Sweet Seelie, Stand there. Take it."

Two.
"Don't flinch. Yes. Relax into this sensation."

Three.
"Yes, breathe it in. Yes, you can take this."

Four
"Brave grrl. Oh you are so beautiful."

Each time he strikes her, I love her. "Yes yes yes," I coo, "this is for you. How beautiful you are! Oh yes, so beautiful, so lovely. Here just for you."

After 10 or so strikes, he stops to stroke her. He is loving with her. And we whisper into her ears, words of love and acceptance, and appreciation. And she collapses against me, finally empty.

We gently untie her, and lead her to the space we've prepared for her. A soft cushion. A blanket. We spoon her, hold her, kiss her, appreciate her.

"Oh beautiful grrl. Oh Beautiful Seelie."

Water, and eventually a chocolate. She sits up and we gather our things. We lay in their great bed, and as her breathing deepens, as she drifts into sleep, I kiss Rascal, and slip away, go to my own bed. And welcome sleep to join me on my pillow, dreams to crawl in with me under the covers. Drifting into Yes.

This Man Called Angel

“I want you,” he growled it. Demanding. Urgent. Intense.

He fell to his knees and began eating my pussy, through my clothes, even as he was struggling to get them down, off, out of the way.

I hadn’t expected it, after so much loving in the night, and again this morning. It was early afternoon, and I was just starting the coffee. It was the sudden return of his desire, the way he turned to me with such exposed need, as much as the intensity of the sensation of his hungry teeth burrowing into my clit. Again after so many times in the night, I rode the waves of pleasure to the tsunami of cumming

And cum I did, that sudden flooding geyser of cum into his mouth, the metallic odor, the wetness, the liquid heat running down my legs onto my pants, now around my ankles. I pushed my panties there too and held his head fiercely into my pussy as he bit and sucked and swallowed, and his face had droplets of my cum and it was pouring out of his mouth and running down his neck onto his chest and still I came.

And when he had had enough, his face wet and glorious and sanctified, I fell back onto the dining room table, sated.

And he began to lick me, long slow wet tongue muscle pushing proding soothing arousing as he licked me. Exquisite pleasure and rough comfort in his tongue. And again, already primed and running, it poured over the edge, the rise of my juices, the shooting pressure of relief as my hot amrita washed over my swollen labia, my buttocks, the table and onto the floor.

I became hungry for the smell of him, the feel of him, the taste of him. I pulled him toward me and turned onto my left side, and looked into his eyes. In that glance, each of us exposed to the other. Open. Vulnerable. Lost in Want. And then, I plunged his cock into my mouth. And slowly ever so slowly, I began to pull away from him, hard and gleaming with my saliva, with my desire. The taste of his precum in the back of my throat and the full long length of him caressing the inside of my mouth. Slower still, until neither of us was certain that my mouth was moving on him at all, and then even slower. Plunge him in, linger him out. Over and Over. Every molecule of my mouth was on fire with the pleasure of his cock. Over and Over. Slow, slowly, slower still. Dragging in liquid pleasure across all the nerves in my mouth. Over and Over. The nerves for hot and cold, the nerves for salt and sweet and sour, the nerves for smooth and soft and hard and slippery and slimy, and the nerves for pinching and poking and gagging: all vibrating humming in a kind of ecstatic hymn to my pleasure.

And in my ecstasy, I also began to hum and that deep in my throat vibration caused him to moan and grab my head and slam his cock into my mouth, Over and Over, and then at last release into my mouth…my hungry pleasure mouth, my humming mouth, my eager mouth, my open and wanting mouth…And he released his own gift to me. His cum white and thick and sweet and salty and oh so very sweet in my mouth, on my lips over my chest.

His face wet and beatific and glorified. His face angelic.

This Man Called Angel.

The Healing (warning; disturbing content involving child abuse)

The sky above her head was Brilliant. Blinding. Blue. Her eyes in mine brown and golden and green. Seelie Eyes.
The Seelie-Eyed Grrl held my eyes in hers. Rascal behind me in the clear late summer sky, holding my head, my hands, stroking my face, my breasts, murmuring sweet words of encouragement and praise.
And Seelie between my legs. My legs open and afraid and lost in childhood memories, stored deep within the tissues of my legs, my pussy holding onto events from oh so long ago.
For fifty years I have sought, without knowing, a woman to hold me in love. To hold me in this tender place, my vulnerable child crying hysterically.
Rascal stroking me with his voice and his hands and Seelie between my legs. The masculine to hold me, the feminine to love me.

Two fingers. Three fingers. Four fingers. Fist me. Fist me. Fist me.

Blinding intense pain. A Physical Pain. An Emotional Pain unleashed in the memory/ in the rememory that fills the little girl, strapped to the kitchen table. The cold grey formica against her back, the mommy holding the child down with her strong hand, her face contorted in her drunken insanity, in her rage. Shoving objects into the little girl, screaming at the little girl, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT? A broom handle. IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT? A rolling pin. TRAMPWHORESLUT! Her hand.

My back is arched so high I can see into his eyes. I see that he is weeping silently, tears running down his face, as Rascal holds my hands and holds the space for this healing. And Seelie's right hand deep inside me, reliving her own traumas with the feminine, sobbing.

And suddenly, I come back to myself, to the now of this scene here on the lawn at Summer Camp, my first fisting in 50 years. I am gasping with the intensity of the pain. Let me breathe you out, I beg, and she does.
Her hand from my vagina, her hand is blood-streaked, and we are both crying. I hold her as she holds me and Rascal holds me and we hold Rascal, and we rock together in the surrender of all women everywhere who have been hurt by another woman. All women who have hurt another woman. All the girl children who have been hurt, and all the boy children who have watched feeling helpless.

As an adult, I have done tremendous amounts of work to understand the memory, to accept and learn from it, to exorcise it. And everything I have learned about myself, about my childhood, about my mother, is suspended in this aftermath of this extreme surrender.

In the aftermath of this extreme surrender, the feminine, the masculine, and the child, together on a blanket in the sun, holding each other...Seelie and Rascal and dangerous in the space of our own and collective healings, from the physical tissues to the emotional vulnerabilities to the space of no-thing, no-judgment, no praise, no condemnation.

Nothing except the feminine, the masculine and the child, sleeping under a brilliant, blue, late summer sky.

Sugasm #174

October 3rd, 2009 by Vixen | Updated: October 3rd, 2009

Veronica Zemanova courtesy of Bad Girl’s Hotbox.

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #175? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
5 things I have learned from customers last week at the adult store
“Attractive men typically buy the freakiest toys on the market.”

Doctor’s Visit
“Reach back and spread your cheeks for me”

Voyeur
“Recently it was in a more public venue.”

Sugasm Editor
Freebies

Editor’s Choice
A Race to the Finish

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

Erotic Writing & Experiences
An Afternoon With The Ex
Being a Stranger, Being Fucked rough
Conditioner
Designated Cock
The Display
The Fantasy And The Reality
Gloved
I Just Want to Watch
Killer Heels - Red Satin Skirt
My G-Spot does exist- HER perspective
Library Offences
Nothing is sacred
Staying After Class
Sunday
Teachers Pet

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
24/7 BDSM
Danielle Lloyd Topless and All Nude For Nuts - September 2009
Handcuffs
Spanking High Impact!
Spanking in the workshop
Strapped on her bare ass!!!
Veronika Zemanova
When The Sunflowers Bloom (HNT)

BDSM & Fetish
Be Careful What You Wish For
In the Dungeon with dangerous: Notes from Dark Odyssey Summer Camp
Knife Play
Lessons Learned (2/2)
The Long Awaited Demo
The M/s Relationship~Fact or Fiction
More Fun with Clothespins
Sub space and sex before bed
Thing
Wake Up

Sex Advice
Bareback sex = better sex?
How to Give Your Woman an Orgasm during Intercourse
Trans girl sex: I’m a clumsy asshole

News, Reviews & Interviews
20 Questions With Courtney Trouble
Lelo Gigi
Tres, Dos…nah, Uno

Thoughts on Sex & Relationships
Cyber
Sex with Dopey
Without any choice in the matter.

In the Dungeon with dangerous: notes from Dark Odyssey Summer Camp

He had been in the dungeon before, but never with dangerous. His first experience subbing for Angel left him hungering for just a little more. He got cold, nakkid in the dungeon, strapped to the St Andrew’s Cross. He was shivering, he explained earnestly, that’s why he cried "red."

Arjuna, this sweet earnest loving magnetic dancer man, has been a friend and colleague of mine in the Sacred Sexuality world for years. We trained together to learn to channel sacred erotic energy, and have been on many retreats together. He has held me when I’ve cried about one lover or another, and I have held him when he has been uncertain, confused.

But a dungeon date with Arjuna was breaking entirely new ground.

Arjuna and I were lying on my bed at Dark Odyssey Summer Camp, aka, sex camp. We were connecting, cuddling, planning his next descent into sub-space. Our long friendship demanded authenticity from each of us, and we wanted to stretch this power and surrender play into an erotically charged sacred sexual experience.

When in surrender, dangerous totally dissolves. She is Present in her vulnerability. And when in power, dangerous rears her Beast and rides that Beast with almost total abandon.
This is what Arjuna wanted of dangerous…to ride her Beast, riding him. To knit together the submission, the breath, and erotic charge of surrender, and to take Arjuna on that ride.

“Take me where you go” he whispered into my heart, into my eyes, into my gut. Into my Beast.

SHE began to stir within me, this Beast. SHE began to stir and dangerous felt the stirring deep in her gut and lower. Pussy tingling with desire to feel this man’s flesh beneath HER strength. To push this man into real and complete surrender.

SHE takes him by the hand, and leads him to the ladder. SHE has no hesitation. SHE undresses him, this man once called arjuna, SHE pulls his pants down, and leaves them there, part of the submission. SHE blindfolds him with a silk scarf, and binds his cock with yellow silk cord. SHE watches as he resists the binding, and SHE ties his balls as well. SHE uses hemp rope on his wrists, a simple knot, but oh so effective, and secures each wrist to the ladder. He squirms and dangerous lays her body against him on the ladder.

“Do not move,” SHE hisses into his left ear, and his body stills.

In the place between in-breath and out-breath, dangerous coaches this man once called arjuna; where to place his breath, where to place his intention, and they begin this wild ride, this erotic sensation play, this roller coaster of pleasure and pain.

SHE stands behind him, him tied securely on the ladder, his pants around his ankles, sightless, immobile, he waits.

SHE strikes with a sudden fierceness, that first blow. It’s a deerskin flogger, and SHE wields it mightily. It makes a thunderous clap and snap against his flesh, and he is startled, crying out, and SHE reaches out to him again. And again, and again. At times the fingers of the flogger just grazing his shoulders, his gorgeous ass. At times laying into his flesh like a ravenous beast, which of course, SHE is.

He wanted to meet HER, he invited HER in. And he was not disappointed.

There are times when dangerous forces HER to step aside. When dangerous checks on HER boi, caresses his ass so red from HER ministrations. Dangerous rides HER and this thrills dangerous. Dangerous is sweating in her leather and her red fluevogs, her hair loose and wild and free, her cunt filling with desire for this boi, and for HER, the Beast dangerous rides to take this man once called arjuna to this place of surrender and bliss.

Dangerous is breathing him, this boi, through his chakras; breathing him, in-breath, out-breath, and as pain surrenders to pleasure and the breath carries this exquisite pleasure throughout their bodies, SHE steps forward, roughly shoving against dangerous, and dangerous steps aside, smiling at HER, giving way to HER need, HER fury.

SHE pulls the horsetail flogger out, the one that matches HER hair, and lightly soothes his back with it. He purrs against that sensation, he relaxes into it, he surrenders. And SHE stands poised, flogger in her hands, hands high above HER head, gathering the power, allowing the energy to build in HER hands, waiting until he is ready. Waiting until his body wants it, asks for it, demands it, pleads for it. And into that place of want SHE strikes, quickly and powerfully as a black bear, HER claws extended, SHE rakes the horsetail across his back, his shoulders, his butt, his thighs.

He begins to cry, great racking sobs, and SHE is relentless. Dangerous caresses him, breathing him, spreading the energy, but SHE beats him. And he cries.

SHE taps his balls with HER hand, SHE grabs his cock, SHE fucks him with HER thigh as dangerous whispers loving encouragement, words of praise and admiration for this boi, so courageous as to invite HER to play with him.

Please he said, I am cold. SHE suspects he wants to divert attention from his cock, from his balls, but dangerous lovingly pulls up his pants. And SHE takes over again, pushes dangerous aside and bites his shoulder in that sweet vulnerable place just below his scapula, his angel wings, SHE takes his flesh into her teeth and it is all dangerous can do to keep HER from tearing that flesh triumphantly, tearing it from his body in a victorious cry of the warrior goddess SHE is.

But dangerous says no. “No” to HER who does not respond well to no, and dangerous prevails.

And then it is over. Over for dangerous. Over for this man once called arjuna.

As dangerous unties our boi, as she dresses him, as she leads him to a safe quiet place, his friends gather round him, around dangerous as well, and hold them carefully lovingly and tenderly, as dangerous takes him on a journey of breath, whispered instructions, as they breathe, and then the oh so quiet stillness of sub-space. He is drifting contentedly, dangerous drifting as well in the victory of having once again unleashed HER, ridden HER to this power place. The power of HER energy still flowing,

And dangerous turns to him and her intense desire acts freely. Dangerous poises over his face and when he sniffs her, she lowers her cunt onto his eager mouth. He is licking her cunt, sucking her clit. She cums, her squirt running down his face, forming a puddle on the cloth. She is sucking him and nibbling on him and she finds a condom and suddenly is riding him. His cock deep inside her, and dangerous cums again.

Dangerous is beside him, and the others as well: Seelie and Sage and Rascal on top, all kissing and licking and sucking and biting this beautiful man made more beautiful, beatific in fact, from his encounter with HER and they love this man back to Arjuna and he cums at last; a sweet stream of cum, his gift to HER and SHE finally surrenders to his cum, licking it from his cock, from his stomach where he has sprayed it. It is full and thick and white and sweet and oh so warm.

And SHE joined dangerous again and we drifted into that place of nothing and everything.

Later, a sip of water, a few sweet hello kisses, and we gradually disengaged, gathered our things, and returned to my bed, where I held Arjuna and he held me, and we slept together until long past dawn.

Sugasm #173

---

September 21st, 2009 by Vixen | Updated: September 21st, 2009

HNT courtesy of Secrets of a Blue-Eyed Vixen.

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #174? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Dressing Room Voyeur
“I caught his gaze this time, on purpose.”

It’s Always the Quiet Ones…
“So grabbing her hips, I pulled her in for a kiss.”

Behind Closed Doors
“Others had watched, she beat me, brought me to tears, held me and then began to untie me.”

Sugasm Editor
The Mouse Drama

Editor’s Choice
Let the Rain Come

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm