2012/01/03

Raven and the "Dom"

It took months of debating and self-assessment to decide whether I should act on the desire to explore total submission that is coupled with strict discipline. Locally it meant that I had to explore the fringes of the BDSM world, and although I am very comfortable in the spanking environment, it took a lot of courage to finally take a very tentative step into the unknown. However, anyone that reads Uncle Nick’s blog will know by now that it turned out to be a disastrous first experience.

I do not hide the fact that I have a dominant personality, but yet, that I am submissive. My self-awareness and understanding of my psyche in relation to the desire to submit, is also at a level where I acknowledge that certain actions, conscious or sub- conscious, are purely based on assessing whether the person commanding submission, is truly a dominant, and a strong dominant at that. I have a tendency to push against set boundaries, simultaneously testing that the boundary posts are not moved to make an allowance for my actions, and that where I have overstepped, real consequences whatever they may be, will follow.
However, where consequences are concerned, it is based on mutual and informed consent. I should also be able to fully trust the person in all aspects, to experience care and nurture at the same time as it is not a weakness, but a further strength in the person responsible for the submissive.  With all of that in mind, an initial get together with a “Dom” lasted nearly three hours in a local restaurant. Some more conversation followed the following day, in which I agreed to a second meeting to further discuss whether he would be right person in terms of what I need. Due to circumstances this meeting took place at his house, which, yes, in hindsight, I should have never agreed to.  
It turned out that he had a serious drinking problem, and within an hour or so was totally drunk. As the drinking escalated during the hour, so did his aggression. His ideas and theories around what a true dominant male should be and act as, were nothing more than a wall to conveniently hide sadistic and abusive tendencies behind. Apart from thrashing the local BDSM scene as pretentious, fake and only for show, he built in his need for alcohol by mocking an important safety rule, apparently within the local BDSM group: “No play when alcohol has been consumed”.  
A total illogical and surreal speech was made where BDSM where likened to Afrikaner culture, and it was during this speech that the danger signs appeared. I was informed that he wanted to slap me (and my assumption was in the face) at the previous meeting, because I had the audacity to reply to a waitress without asking him first as he was the “host”. Upon correcting him that I arrived first, it was a meeting between two adults with no prior arranged consent to do anything but talk, that I was responsible for my own bill,  a list was set out of what will be allowed and what will not be allowed.
Between the glasses of brandy with some very limited Coke and ice, I was informed that he will decide when and what I will say to Uncle Nick. I will not mingle with the local BDSM scene, yet in another breath, he wanted me to go to a local upcoming BDSM function. His desires will always come first, and as far as what he was concerned, the needs of a submissive are of no importance. Somehow, in his mind, I have somewhere along the line agreed to be “trained”.
 I was locked in a house with him, and I had no idea where the keys were, and no words can describe the cold feeling that I had in the pit of my stomach. Fortunately as he became drunker, he also became more uncoordinated and off balance, and towards the end of the ordeal, it appeared that he was ready to pass out. I did finally manage to leave relatively unharmed, partially due to some well placed text messages and calls from Uncle Nick, however, it took several days to make peace with the fact that I had to ‘submit’ to certain demands in order to do so.

My initial reactions of total rage, coupled with a sore body and feeling totally violated although no sexual acts were required, left a very bitter taste in my mouth towards the BDSM scene. However, common sense did prevail, and although so easy to do, the actions of one man cannot be transferred onto a group, nor can they be held accountable.
The sad thing though, like a true alcoholic, his response to my text message that I will not be seeing him again under any circumstances, reflected that he most likely did not remember half of what he did or said.  A harsh and scary experience, I do admit, but at the same time, my desire to continue exploring has not diminished, and after receiving some moral and emotional support from individuals within the BDSM community (local and internationally), I do know that I will be okay.

2011/12/27

How Red is my Bottom?

In an effort to relax I decided to avoid television and do some reading. A Kindle is a lovely toy to have when you are a bookworm like me. I did manage to read the latest Terry Pratchett, Lee Childs, Kathy Reich books, I downloaded a couple of ghost and vampire stories and finally got around to read a book about the Broadmoor Lunatic Asylum – I was in my element. I normally do not bother with erotica, but in a mood to try something different, I also downloaded a couple of   spanking romances.


Some of them were poorly written with no storyline, but in between, I did find two or three books that really was worth the while. The formula is quite simple – sort of a Mills and Boon recipe with some spanking and sex added. Stubborn and cheeky girl that is forever in trouble, meets imposing, larger than life and very strict male – that invariably also seems to be rich, and sooner or later, normally sooner, she lands over his lap – and in his bed.


BDSM was incorporated in a few, spanking as part of sexual foreplay in another, but Domestic Discipline was reflected in most of the books I read, even though, each author’s interpretation was quite different from the next. And this is where I found myself responding and reacting to these books, either telling the guy that he can go and erm...stuff himself, or having (blush!) a “OMG!!” complete with butterflies in the stomach feeling.


I know that it is all different strokes for different folks...no pun intended, but definitely included in my  “I do not think so!” list would be things  being sent to bed at a certain time, or having my  internet or television privileges “removed”. Oh, and a raised voice? Armageddon will arrive in her finest fury...truly!


On the “Depends on how much trouble I am in” list, I will most likely, but not quietly either, submit to demands such as having to stand in a corner although I am not sure about the bottom on display thingy though.


The “OMG!! Some serious butterflies in the tummy” list? Having to answer a simple question of “Why are you here?” while you already over his lap, or fetching and delivering the implement of his choice (in a structured way – erm...not thrown across the room...), being made to wait in position, that promise made quite clearly and softly in a public place, taking you home to fulfil said promise...well, I think it is suffice to say that one definite reaction (but definitely not the only one) is a bottom that tingles quite deliciously in anticipation.


Now, if I could only get HH to hurry back from his damn holiday!!

2011/12/22

T'was a slight hiccup and an ex...

After having to live in the same house with my ex for three years after our split, we managed to sell the house, which by the way, was on the market for the same period.

The joy of finally selling the house was soon too replaced by utter chaos. I was dealing with a buyer which had taken upon himself to become the “expert” in everything and at the same time, tried his hand at every given moment to change or amend the sale...totally disregarding the contractual obligations.  In the end, it took a very polite attorney letter for him to realise that I am neither a pushover nor an idiot. The ex’s contribution to all this? Absolutely nothing.

Then came the packing up and selling of the content within the house. It was not exactly the smallest house on the block, and it took me two exhausting months to clear out a five bedroom house. The ex’s contribution? Nothing again.
A couple of other details had to be seen to as well. The roof had a leak that needed to be fixed, the garden had to be sorted out, an electrical compliance certificate had to be obtained...and again, the ex did not surprise me. No contribution whatsoever.
However, at the height of everything I was told that there is no understanding why I am so stressed or worked up about everything. Have you ever had those moments that you could actually see your hands around someone else’s neck? My language use I have to admit paled in comparison to what Uncle Nick had to say, and although my mother tends to stay away from the more descriptive type of words, she was in full agreement with him.
HH though had the “pleasure” of dealing with a very unsettled and grumpy Raven Red. I am thoroughly convinced that my rather striped and very tender bottom at times, was the most important factor that prevented the very untimely demise of the ex.
Fortunately it is all over and done with now...I have moved out, and for the first time in nearly two months, I have time for myself again. However, there is the flip side of the coin...I no longer have valid excuses NOT to visit HH more frequently, of which I have been casually informed that I am in need of (see the rolling of eyes)... Oh, and the ex? Rhett Butler said it perfectly; “Frankly, my dear, I do not give a damn”


2011/11/14

Piano Lessons

Getting ready for a lesson...


or on her way to face the music...
perhaps both?

2011/11/12

Zebra Crossings

I had a look at my bottom in the mirror this morning and they are still neatly striped thanks to HH's enthusiasm with the cane on Monday...

Seeing that it is nearly thirty degrees again today, and I will be spending the day in a swimming pool, I am frantically trying to think of excuses if anyone might question the zebra crossings on my rump.

What I do know is that I should inform HH that stripes should rather be displayed like this...prettier and far less painful...




2011/11/10

Love our Lurkers Day

(A huge thank you to Bonnie at My Bottom Smarts)

Dearest Lurkers,
It always leave me with a smile,
when I see that you came along and lingered for a while, 
When you do pay me a visit...

You might find me laughing, or in a teasing mood
Not cheeky - I am never, ever cheeky...
I am sure you will agree. 

Or I might be in a state of rebellion -
most likely because I was judged to be cheeky or insolent...
Really? Me? 

You might come along and see that I have once again landed myself in hot water.
I have been told that I have a natural born talent for being in trouble...
I have no idea what they mean...

Invariably, somewhere along your visits, you might find me in quite akward positions,
with my bottom undergoing some changes in status.
Something along the lines of red, sore and rather tender...

Oh, and at times, you will find me sulking - slightly sarcastic even,
lamenting about how misunderstood I am,
normally around my definitions of cheeky, rebellious and insolent..
and quite often about my problems in being able to sit down.

But whoever you are, and wherever you are from...
I appreciate your visits more than what you would really know.
And if for today only, you would like to leave a comment
I would really love you to do so...
(Erm...even if only to agree that I am NOT cheeky...ever!)


2011/11/09

Caned

I left my office shortly after five yesterday afternoon for my meeting with HH. I had a brief conversation with him a couple minutes before that, wanting to confirm that the appointment is still on. He answered my question with a question: "Do you think that you want to keep the appointment?” He knew that given the chance I would have wanted to opt out, but that little question took away any escape routes I might have considered. I tried for a clever retort; "Yes is the correct answer, but No features quite a bit as well" but his response was just as quick: "Yes No then".

True to myself, I was trying for a way out, but I realised that there was not much of an option, and that this appointment should be kept. He knew it as well and by understanding me rather to well, he was gently directing me towards total submission – a simple acknowledgement that I will report to him as was agreed. On my arrival, he did not waste much time. We had our chat, albeit much shorter than usual, and when he uttered the dreaded “Right, let’s get down to business”, I did not argue. I must admit when he reached for the cane, a couple of words were muttered, which dried up drastically when he threatened to take out the paddle.

Bent over, waiting with a bared bottom, I could feel that panic was close at hand. The last time I could barely manage six strokes, and I knew that this time, he will not stop at six. However, instead of receiving that first searing stroke, HH started striking my bottom with quick and light strokes gradually increasing the intensity...and then, that first hard swish of the cane could be heard, but before I could even draw a breath, the cane was back, quick and rather harder little strokes warming my bottom all over. This was, I soon found out, to be the format of the caning.


http://red.charls.free.fr/

I started dreading the tapping in-between the hard strokes...never I have been so alert, so tense – on tenterhooks, not sure when I would feel the deep line of fire across my cheeks. There was no format to the taps (that I might add, grew a little bit stronger in force as time went pass) that I could accurately anticipate the hard strokes. And, the little quick taps started to add to the soreness; it was as if they were sealing in the deeper strokes...my bottom soon felt as if it was on fire!

I have no idea how many strokes I did receive in the end (I lost count after twelve), but I do remember staring at the yellow files on the desk, trying hard not to cry...for I did not want to get his files wet, and my bottom was hurting so badly that I could not summons the energy to move them out of the way. Although I slept on my stomach, and had (and still do) some problems in sitting comfortably today, I am calmer, more relaxed and reacting to the world in a much softer way...

Thank you, HH.



http://red.charls.free.fr/

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