The Forbidden experience 2018

Posted: September 2, 2018 in Uncategorized

Bob, Krys and I made it out to Forbidden again this year, but this time it was a Quad affair as Gun opted to join us as well. Some of our activities were similar to past years; the Scotch and Cigar Social, hanging by the pool, scenes throughout, Krys and I participated in the Kinkmart (selling some of our jewellery) and just chilling by the campfire with friends. A few things stood out for me though.

I caught myself several times referring to Sir Bob by my every day pet names for him, love, sweetie, hun, whereas past Forbidden events, I have completely immersed myself in the D/s dynamic and referred to him only as Sir Bob. In fact, coming back to real life, it was difficult to go back to my every day pet names. I am still trying to figure out why I couldn’t completely give in to the dynamic but suspect that my recent struggle with depression contributed to this.

We were invited to a handfasting ceremony where Krys and I had the honour to have been the creator of the bride’s headpiece. It was a beautiful ceremony in a clearing in the woods by the bonfire pit. It was a short ceremony but very meaningful. We were later invited to the betrothed cabin for a potluck dinner. Conversation was light and festivities were grand. It was very nice to be part of a such a natural setting for such a beautiful union.

At one point during the weekend, Sir Bob took me for a walk to one of the vendor’s sites where he had me try on a few pillories. After checking sizing for the wrist and neck holes, Sir Bob paid for the one we liked best. As we walked back to our site, my head and wrists secured within the pillory, people looked at me and smiled. I am not sure what they were thinking of predicament, but I felt on display. I had a mixture of wanting to proudly be seen and wanting to go hide in a corner. I sucked it up and told my shy self to be quiet and enjoy the moment. When we got back to our site and rejoined Krys and Gun, the two looked at me arriving and they both had sly smiles. It wasn’t long that I could no longer sit comfortably and started getting restless. Wanting to now do something, I asked if I could get out of it. The response was a resounding “no”. So I tried to remove it myself and was told to stop at which point, Gun mentioned he needed a drink as he looked at me. So I changed my focus to attempting to make the drink for him while trapped in the pillory. It required me to move in ways I had no idea I could. Aside from requiring a little bit of help from Krys to loosen screw caps, I managed pretty well. The entire time I was doing this, Gun was egging me on and the site across from us (Ottawa friends of ours) were laughing. I realized that they weren’t laughing at me though. They were laughing cause they realized that Gun, who self professes he is not kinky, is actually kinky “by proxy” (see Gun’s blog post at All this to say that this was a very satisfying scene for me.

To this point, I have not had very many experiences with objectification scenes. Sir Bob and I have had a few in our own home, but I think this was a first in public. I felt satiated. There was a scene that Sir Bob and I had talked about for years and circumstances had always prevented it. So every effort was going to be made to make it happen this year. Well, after the impromptu scene with the pillory, I felt that I could go home happy not overtly disappointed if the other one did not happen. I said as much to Sir Bob and he insisted that my long awaited scene would happen. And happen it did!

To be honest, I didn’t think it would happen again this year as we sat on our site on Sunday evening and no one was around. This scene was dependent on the participation of several people. But then people started to discreetly show up. They would stop by, chat for a minute, and then go and loiter on other sites nearby. Sir Bob put on my blindfold and covered my mouth with a leather silencer with the word BRAT stamped in it. He tied my hands behind my back and secured my ankles to a spreader bar. 

Then I felt pen scratches into my skin as people started to write and draw on me. As people finished there messages and drawings, they started to touch, caress, and kiss me. The sensation of different hands and mouths on me at the same time was overwhelming. After a time, Sir Bob removed the spreader bar and hooked a leash to my collar. He led me away from our campsite and paraded me around the campground, offering to others we encountered along the way to write messages on me and caressing my body. 

Many obliged. Some voices I recognized as we ran into friends and acquaintances along the way. When the scene was over and I was safely back at our site,nI asked if any pictures were taken. Krys shared with me some of the messages participants wanted me to be aware of in relation to the dr awings they made on my body. I keep the images dear to me and use them to remind me of the things that my mind tries to make me forget when I am in a depressed state.






All in all, this year’s Forbidden was a resounding success with many memories beyond the ones described here. I felt quite zen afterwards. I was able to have some very meaningful conversations with my partners, which definitely helped settle my demons, for a time.



A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of experiencing probably one of the most intense scenes I can remember. This one involved knife play.

I have a good friend who had recently started learning techniques in knife play. There are different purposes for knife play which can include a focus on drawing blood, fear factor, sensation, or a combination of all three. I was curious about the fear factor and sensation.

I was skeptical about the fear factor. You see, I only play with people that I trust implicitly, the ones I know will not touch what I have put in the red zone. So, while we have toyed with scenes that should have instilled fear in me, I never did feel it.

Playing with sensations is my thing. I want to feel! I want to feel cold, hot, soft, hard. Essentially, I want to feel everything. If emotions come out of that, then even better. And the more simultaneous feels there are, the better.

Well, knife play does that for me, or so I discovered.

Abby was my top for this experience. I wore clothes that I didn’t like anymore and/or that didn’t fit properly. I think she was happy that I even wore a bra, as that added to the experience and provided her a challenge.

She tied my hands over my head, to a hard point in the ceiling. She took out the two knives she was going to use that day and showed them to me, ran them up and down my arms so that I could see what each felt like. She then blindfolded me.

I will take a pause here to describe the room as I saw it just before the blindfold was put on. There were

  • a couple of people sitting on the sofa to the right of me;
  • a few people playing with another inside the vacbed in the corner in front and to the right of me; and
  • a few people were behind me chatting in the kitchen.

Music was playing and there was a light murmur of conversation throughout the room with the occasional scream of delight from the vacbed.

Abby started to run her knives down my body, wherever skin was already exposed, from the blade to the tip of the knife. Eventually, I started to feel her tug at a section of my clothing followed by a sudden cool spot where she had just cut a hole. She would make use of these ever growing number of holes to poke me with the tip of her blade.

The scariest part of the experience was when she would work on my bra. The thickness of the material made it so that cutting through it with the knife was a challenge. There was a lot of tugging and pushing, sawing away with the knife. I won’t deny that I was afraid she may slip and cut my boob, or worse, nick my nipple.

As the clothes started to fall away from my body, the more I could feel the chill in the room, and hear an evergroing silence as the murmur of conversation die away. I started to feel exposed. I felt like all eyes were on me. I felt vulnerable. I felt alone but not alone at the same time. My breathing became shallow as Abby’s breathing became primal. Once all of my clothes were cut away, she moved behind me, her mouth close to my ear, she tilted my head back, thus exposing me even more. Her breath was hot, passionate, primal as she moved her blade across my neck and gently along my jugular, making me feel my pulse move against her blade. This is when I started to truly feel that things were dangerous. Even though I trusted that she would not hurt me, I felt an inkling of fear, that “what if” moment.

When Abby was done with me, she removed the arm restraints and pulled me into her. As I stood there in her arms, I said: “That was amazing!!! Can we do that again at camp?” She laughed and said “Of course”. I was delivered to my Sir and sat between the two of them for my aftercare. When I was grounded again, those in the room came over and told me how amazing that was to watch. I think I was beaming.

Until next time…


Depression rears its head again

Posted: February 16, 2017 in depression

I am finding myself on the edge again with no understanding of why.

The worst part about depression is the feeling of utter sadness while realizing that things in your life are good.

We just got back from an amazing vacation as a quad family. Everyone had fun, we all got along as we always seem to. I have people in my life that love me; Bob; Gun; Krys; Clay; my kids. Speaking of kids, my daughter did an amazing job of cleaning my house while we were away. Sounds like my son is planning to ask his partner “the big question”. I have a job that I enjoy very much, not many people can say that. I have great friends. Gun has just met a new girl for which I am super stoked. He has been waiting for this for such a long time. I have metamours that care for me as well.

So why do I feel so sad lately? Part of me feels that I do not deserve so much good when so many people are suffering. But I don’t think that is truly the cause of my sadness. I wish I could get out of my funk.



Syracuse with a dear friend

Posted: February 10, 2017 in polyamory

I just had a wonderful weekend with one of my dearest friends.

A few months ago, Clay and I had discussed a second weekend away together. So I started to think about where to go and what to experience when I saw an advertisement that Jeff Dunham was coming to the area. I should probably mention that I have a fairly large geographical space that I consider “the area”. Lol. So this area was Syracuse, a good three hour drive south of my current location and a need to cross a border.

While we could have made this trip over a 24 hour span, staying an extra day would have allowed us to have more leeway in the amount of goods we could bring back across the border. So we decided to make it a full weekend.

I picked Clay up wearing a lingerie bodysuit which left very little to the imagination, a pair of jeans, and a sweater for warmth. When I pulled up his to his house, his neighbour was outside. So I conservatively pulled the zipper up on my hoodie and walked up to his front door. Upon entering though, I pulled the zipper down again so that he would get a full view of my cleavage. This was enthusiastically appreciated as his eyes widened as did his smile.

Back in the truck, and settled in, I made sure that my hoodie was zipped down so he would be teased by my bouncing bosoms as I navigated the truck over the roads infested with potholes, welcome to winter in Canada. Lol.

We chatted and laughed as we made our way South. Pulling up to the border, Clay started to laugh at me as I pulled the zipper back up on my hoodie. I didn’t feel the border agent needed to be privy to my angelic ways.

I was quite surprised that the border was empty. Only a few cars passing through at the same time as us. The border agent seemed quite bored and couldn’t seem to be bothered with us. He only asked where we were going and why. When I stated we were going to see Jeff Dunham, his face broke out in a big grin. Obviously he was a fan and said it would be worth it.

We made it to our hotel by dinner time. So we stopped at a liquor store to pick up some wine, which we didn’t even open. Dinner was served in the hotel restaurant. The wine was less than mediocre but the quesadillas were quite tasty. (Fast forward to the show. ;))

As we sat in the venue, we did some people watching and realized that many of the people attending the show, did not take much time with their appearances, wearing old sweatshirts and dirty coats and clothes.

Jeff Dunham did not disappoint. He was funny, performing a monologue for about an hour about the birth of his twin sons and also learning the difference with changing the diaper on a boy versus changing one on a girl. I just about died laughing as it brought back memories from when my son was a baby and the adventures we encountered while changing his diaper.

Of course, he brought out Peanut, who took a flying leap across the stage and his jaw got jammed open. And Achmed the dead terrorist fell apart. All in all, quite a hilarious time.

We took a cab back to the hotel and cuddled in bed while watching Titanic, the only thing on tv and one I didn’t care if I missed bits and pieces. As we cuddled, Clay’s hands began to wander and for the first time in a long time, I began to feel aroused.

A side note here, and probably a prelude to another blog post, but I have been struggling with my libido of late and I suspect it has to do with medications I am taking. Either way, absorbing and enjoying another’s touch has never left me but the ability to be aroused by the touches has been a struggle. So, back to the arousing touches:

As his hands wandered, I placed myself in ways that I felt would get a rise out of me and he obliged and followed my lead perfectly, not hesitating to ask for clarification if he was unsure of what I was wanting. And I gladly told him what I was looking for. And he obliged until I finally orgasmed.

Satisfied, we snuggled into each other and fell asleep. I only got about 5.5 hours of sleep that night, but that seemed to be all I needed as I was wide awake by 6:30. Clay indicated he needed more sleep so I got out of bed to go do my own thing and promised to wake him in a couple of hours, which I did.

After breakfast, we headed out to the Destiny USA mall and did some shopping. I controlled myself and only bought things I needed for our upcoming trip to Disney. It is going to be a hot one and I am so looking for it.

I love shopping with Clay. He is an active participant in the shopping experience, looking at the clothes and making suggestions. He is also very good and only making suggestions related to what I need, only showing me things that would be a nice have if he believes it would hold a wow factor and that I can permit myself the luxury of such an item.

It was close to 4 by the time we made it back to our hotel. With approximately an hour of free time before our dinner reservations, we donned our bathing suits and made it over to the pool.

Dinner was at a very posh restaurant called the Melting Pot. So we had each brought a nice outfit to wear. I wore my black mid calf length dress with lace across the back and he in a very stunning black and white striped shirt with matching tie and a pair of black slacks.

Clay had reserved a table in a very small nook in the middle of the restaurant. This area contains only two very small tables. It is most often used for their “romance package”. Typically, they place roses on the table, but since we could not bring flowers back over the border, they provided us with an extra bottle of wine and some chocolate covered strawberries.

Dinner consisted of a cheese fondue of choice; we chose the spinach and artichoke, followed by salads and then the main dish fondue; Clay chose a fondue containing chicken, duck, andouille sausage, and shrimp. I chose a fondue containing chicken, filet mignon, and shrimp. Our bouillon was a coq au vin. Everything tasted so divine.

For dessert, we had a chocolate fondue with dark chocolate and chambord. Perfect combination.

After dinner, we made our way back to the hotel and shimmied into our comfy jammies and just sat together on the couch and watched tv together until we were so tired we went to bed, which wasn’t too late.

The next morning, Clay was still tired when I woke up starving around 6:30. So he told me to go get some breakfast and he would go later. When I came back from breakfast, he was still dozing, so I set myself up to watch a tv show. Clay got up just after I started my show, so he got dressed and went to find himself some food for breakfast. When he came back, he sat beside me on the couch while I watched my show and he dozed a bit more.

When my show finished, I was feeling a little frisky, so I straddled him and woke him up good. I knew we were cutting it close to check out time, so it felt a little urgent to fit this in. But we managed and laughed about it afterwards as we scrambled to pack up our stuff and check out on time.

On our way back home, and realizing that we would be crossing the border too early, we stopped in Watertown to hit up a store called Kohls so that Clay could pick up some new shirts and dress pants. It was interesting to watch a man as particular as he is with how he looks go about picking out his shirts and ties. But we managed to find him 4 nice shirts with matching ties and two pairs of dress pants. It took us the better part of 2 hours, but it was well worth it and a lot of fun.

We then went to grab a bite to eat for lunch, which was rather disappointing as our chicken was quite dry. Either way, I was keen on biting into one of the chocolate covered strawberries from the night before.

Oh, I forgot to mention that we had to drive through some lake effect snow squalls and whiteouts on our way from Syracuse to Watertown. The truck handled it very well, but traffic was going much slower than I felt comfortable going but Clay is a nervous passenger, so I stayed in the queue, even though the truck, set to 4×4 could have plowed through the other lane. As soon as Clay gave me the go ahead to pass, I zoomed through, cautiously of course.

Back on track with my story. I was surprised again to arrive at the border and be able to drive right up to the border agent…no waiting time whatsoever. She was more concerned about what was in the bed of my truck than anything else. She asked several times and in different ways what was in there, to which I replied “my luggage”. She didn’t even ask how much we spent. She did ask why we didn’t go see Jeff Dunham in Ottawa when he was there recently (last year, I think). I told her our spouses don’t like him enough to see him in concert and we didn’t know each other at the time. So we took advantage of him being close by to go see him this time. She shrugged and gave me back our passports and off we went as we chuckled and my answer.

The rest of the drive was uneventful.

I really enjoyed this weekend with Clay. He was so much more at ease and relax and seemed more sure of himself than I have seen yet. It made me feel much more at ease in our relationship. It was a very nice, relaxing weekend with a very dear friend.

Reconnection Sex

Posted: August 25, 2016 in erotica, polyamory, sex

We make our way to the bedroom, quietly as we don’t want to disturb the kids. Gun climbs into bed, his lovable brute of a dog in tow, needing his cuddles. I tend to my bathroom routine, making sure to brush my teeth and wash the makeup (or war paint as Gun calls it) off my face.

Back in the bedroom, I strip myself out of my pyjamas and slide under the covers, cozying up to the Boomer. After all, he is in my way from getting in for cuddles with Gun. But it doesn’t take long for Gun to tell his dog to move, at which point I wriggle my way over to rest my head in the crook of his shoulder, draping my arm over his body.

My fingers twitch and trace over his body as we lay snuggled under the covers. A few moans escape Gun’s mouth, but nothing beyond that. This is our reconnect night, the first night together after a time of being apart. I want to reconnect with him physically. I sigh. I move the blankets aside and kiss his belly, his pelvis, his thighs, before taking his cock in my mouth. He groans. 

To my surprise, it doesn’t take long for Gun to take over. I move to get off his cock and rest next to him again when he grabs my head and growls that I am not done. I look at him playfully and say: “Really?”

“No, now climb on me and fuck me!”

I do as I am told, giggling a little inside. I ride him to my speed, not quite giving him what he wants. He finally has enough of my teasing flips me over. He finds his way into my pussy and pumps himself in and out. I start to wriggle under him to increase the sensations. He stops and whispers forcefully in my ear:

“Did I tell you you could fuck me?”

“No, but…”

“Stop moving, and be quiet. Not a sound, understood?” he says as he pins my arms over head.

I whisper “Yes”

He switches his position and slides his cock into my ass. He proceeds to fuck me as I lay still, not making a sound. He then makes use, once, or twice more, of every one of my available holes until I have cum a few times and he finishes off himself.

We lay in bed, panting, until we fall asleep. This was the best reconnection in a long time. It is a bit of challenge to cum without moving, for the record. 😉

Until next time…


Kinky Camp

Posted: August 14, 2016 in BDSM, kink

Kinky camping was rather freeing. I immersed myself in my submission to Bob, so much so that I am still having a hard time switching my brain back to the real world, thus catching myself still referring to Bob as “Sir Bob” or simply “Sir” in regular company.

This was a first for me to be naked out in the open and not in a swingers or kink club. A friend of mine strongly encouraged me to be naked at the pool. I did pack clothes as security blankets. I felt very self-conscious about being naked, so the first trek to the pool, I donned my coverup to get to the pool. Upon arrival to poolside, I removed said coverup and quickly made my way to the shower and then to the safety of immersing myself in the pool as soon as I could; and I stayed there as long as possible. By the end of the weekend, I would make my way to the pool in my chosen clothing and take a little more time to get into the pool, but still felt self-conscious and fought to keep myself from hunching over to hide as much as I could. Why go naked at all if that is how I felt, you ask? Well, I wanted to be naked in the water. I like how it feels on my skin. That being said, I was most comfortable being dressed outside the pool area, and generally wore short shorts with a sports bra only.

The woods were quite exilirating in several ways. The first experience, Bob made me walk naked into the woods behind him, toy bag in his hand. We made use of the first station which included a set of swings, the st-Andrew’s cross, and a structure with glory holes, not to mention a couple of different types of benches. Bob gave me a very releasing impact session on the St-Andrew’s cross followed by trying out the swings. Positioning was quite interesting as they are set up to allow easy access for anal, which Bob obliged. But they were still not the easiest to use.

I was so happy when Krys arrived. Bob had spoken with me about his debate as to when to have her heavy impact session. I encouraged him to have it that evening. She needed the release and would be on edge until she got it. Not to mention, he was having a good day the day of her arrival. With Bob’s health, you never know when that crash is lurking, so I encouraged him to take advantage of good space healthwise and take care of my sister sub. He concurred and did just that, and man was she all shades of purple and blue all weekend after that. She garnered so much attention and reverrance as did Bob for his handiwork. It kinda of made me feel lesser to a degree since I do not seek marks on my body. I do not seek pain for the sake of pain. I seek pain as part of sensation and experiencing different sensations is my goal, not the amount of pain that can be inflicted on me. I know I am not a lesser submissive/bottom than someone who seeks out the pain for the pain itself. But in moments where the marks are reverred like that, I do feel it. Either way, I was also proud of our Sir’s handiwork and of Krys’ ability to take so much.

Bottoming for Krys to learn how to flog was fun. She is adept with the flogger and it was interesting to hear Sir instruct her on the nuances of wielding such toys. She took great care in making sure she was hitting in the right spots. We quickly realized that I was too high for her reach (the St-Andrew’s cross we used this time was on a platform) and her target, my ass, was in the wrong position for her. So I was instructed to get down from the platform and bend over (think…touch your toes). This is not a position I can sustain for very long. I was a little surprised to get up from that position and realize that we were being watched. The gentleman in question kept a respectful distance. When I was turned around for more demonstrations on different parts of my body, he would move and remain in my line of sight, which made me feel self-conscious of my body again. I worked really hard that weekend to disregard the feeling of running to cover up and just accept my nakedness. But it was a hard instinct to curb.

The porcupine quills were an interesting sensation. Going in, they feel very much like acupuncture needles. Coming out, they feel more like a black fly or deer fly bite. I only wanted to know what they felt like so MissusM and Bob only stuck me with two quills, moved them around ever so briefly and gently and then pulled them out quickly. I was apprehensive to try them since, well…pain. But I was surprised to find that they weren’t that bad and had more of a sensation to them than pain, although, they can be used to inflict pain for the pain itself. I would be willing to try this again and see what other sensations can be brought forward through their use. That said, I am not sure what would happen beyond another session, but I am willing to expore this a little more.

Our camp mates were very chill. They were easy going and we got along very well. They had been to camp before and were very helpful in guiding us through our first experience while we brought our experiences as avid campers.

The sounds around camp went against all my instincts. I am a mother hen and a protector. So when I started to hear screams of terror from the woods or screams of pain from fellow campers, it took every bone in my body to stay still and just let things be. After all, the things that were happening had been negotiating before hand and everything was consensual. I was not hearing anyone call out “RED”. So sit still and listen to the sounds of play was all I could do. But my curiosity was on high alert. I kind of wanted to go see what was happening but afraid of what I would find, not to mention getting lost in the woods. lol. But the sounds are probably the things that play back in my mind the most from the weekend.

Missed opportunities suck. I had spoken to an aquaintance prior to camp about wanting to be part of a take down but that I was hesitant cause I don’t know what I want from it. He had given me some things to think about and told me I should write out my ideal scenario. Well, my ideal scenario has yet to come to mind, so I backed away from the idea for this year and I never replied to his last message. In addition, I had told him of my interest to learn and toy with grappling. I suggested that if he were to see me standing around, to feel free to take me by the hand and bring me onto the mats. Well, I did see the grappling station as well as the jello wrestling station and…I didn’t stick around. In addition, due to the heat at camp and lack of shaded shelter, I was not in a great place since I am very strongly and adversely affected by the sun. So I wasn’t in much shape for play during the day. Bob too was struggling with the heat and the pounding sun. So one of the main scenes he had planned fell by the wayward. He did replace it with a great sensual scene which allowed me to float followed by a good and thorough fucking by the campfire. This, I think, has to be one of my favorite things to do while camping.

Lessons learned:

  • There is no need to pack so much clothing. And underwear? not required. Simply pack comfy shorts and sports bras along with anything required for theme nights.
  • More research before hand on things I want to experience. It’s just a little hard when you are not sure what kinks are out there that could be more sensation based when the kink community seems to be pain-centric.
  • Bring a regular broom. Small tent brooms do not work efficiently in larger tents.
  • Make sure that all toys being packed will get maximum use to avoid overpacking.
  • Pack food before heading out for camping. Last thing I want to do is grocery shopping upon arrival.
  • Bring a sunshade of some sort or attempt to reserve a site with shade/cabin. Only concern with cabin is that I don’t think they have king size beds so may be tight for three of us to sleep.
  • Find a better king size air mattress before next year.

All in all, it was a great experience and I would do it again in a heartbeat. Just wish I didn’t need to sleep on the ground. My body is still achy from that.

Until next time…


Welcoming newcomers to kink communities

Posted: August 10, 2016 in BDSM, kink

We’ve all been there. We’ve all been the “newby”. But I think we forget what it was like.

On our way back from Forbidden camping last weekend, for those who don’t know, this is a kinky camping weekend held in Southern Ontario, and we began talking about some of the new experiences we had during the weekend. It then flowed into accepting new people in the community and the Fifty Shades of Grey effect.

While the book series and subsequent movie are not a great reflection on the kink community, in fact it is not a good representation at all, it has still opened people’s minds to the world of kink/BDSM and many people who have found the bedroom boring are now wanting to try different things. So how do we welcome these newcomers?

It is important for those of us that are seasoned members of the community, to remember that we are still learning new things as well, whether it be a new kink or our preferred kinks. We never stop learning. But there are no formal teachings. As such, we become the teachers to these newcomers.

It irks me to hear all the complaints about the “want-to-bes”, or kinksters as they are usually called. Like they are less than the rest of us. But without them, the community will dwindle. Remember, not all of the newcomers will stay. Once those that think Fifty Shades of Grey is a true representation of our community and what kink/BDSM is, realize that it is not a true reflection, AND if that was what they wanted, they will leave the community unsatisfied. But those that realize the gratification that kink/BDSM and being part of the community and those that really want to learn about their interested kink, they will stay and they are the ones we will want to nurture. Sure there is a period where we have to deal with the want-to-bes for a time. There is nothing wrong with that. They are in self-discovery as well, and we should allot them the time to discover and the support for them to make that discovery…SAFELY and it is our responsibility to give them all the necessary information that we have garnered through our experiences to make sure that they are able to do that.

We also need to remember that the kink community is underground to a certain extent. It is a taboo subject. So these newcomers to the community cannot turn to a parent, a colleague, a family member or friend to ask questions. At least, not in most cases. So we become those people. Do you remember when you were a newcomer and wanted answers about a specific kink? I do.

We were in our early twenties and curious about bondage. I wanted to be restraind. The internet was just starting, social media was basic at best, if there even was any. So connecting with like-minded people needed to be done in person. But how could we find these like-minded people? It wasn’t like it was openly advertised. So we only found the community three and a half years ago and we have grown within our kinks so much in that time; way more than we did in the previous 17 years or so. At least now there is internet and a place online where we can start chatting with people about our common interests, which makes things much easier and far less intimidating.

Remember that there are no schools for kink. Our community and fetlife basically become that school. Please remember to be kind to the newbies, be patient, share your experiences and learnings, and if you don’t know the answer to something, I am sure that you know someone who does. So don’t hesitate to refer them to the right resource for their question. Also, while many people entering the community today have only been introduced to the lifestyle through the Fifty Shades of Grey books/movie, they do have every right to explore if the lifestyle is right for them and all we can do is point out to them the flaws of the books/movie and show them what BDSM truly is and how beautiful, freeing and empowering it truly can be. The books weren’t all wrong, it was just presented in a very extreme fashion that, in real life, would have been considered stalking followed by abusive. And that is what we need to clarify with the newcomers.

Until next time…


The other day, while friends were visiting, the discussion turned into a healthy debate around today’s criminal justice system with regards to rape. The question is not whether or not there is an issue here, there is. We were all in agreement with this. The debate revolved around from where the root cause of today’s rape culture stems.

I brought up my thoughts in a few instances about this, but as in many instances of heated conversation, I did not fully express all of my thoughts and many of them manifested themselves the next morning. So I felt I needed to express them today.

Rape has existed for a very long time, and often guised as marital obligations. So rape is not something new. That being said, we as a population, have created a rape culture, one where the act is often excused as not the fault of the perpetrator because “did you see how she was dressed?” or any other list of excuses.

Many say that women are constantly objectified. It is not unilaterally on men towards women. Women do this to men as well. And they do it to each other.

There is a lack of respect for our fellow human beings, our neighbours, our parents, our friends. We tend to worry about ourselves and what we want at any one particular moment in time and most of the time, at the detriment of others. We take with very little regard to the cost involved, both emotional and physical. And we aren’t teaching our kids otherwise.

As a woman, and watching my daughter grow up in this culture, I realized what a fine line women have to walk along to dress in just the right way to not draw attention to herself. Dress too conservatively, and we are called prudes and shamed. Dress too provocatively and we are told that we are sluts and asking to be raped. Why can’t we dress to be comfortable? The way a woman dresses, in my opinion, is directly related to her self-confidence. She will dress to be comfortable and to make herself beautiful to herself and no one can judge that, no one SHOULD judge that. It is very personal. Men and women should respect that choice. Just because a woman is dressed a certain way is not a reason to think that they want sex with YOU.

A woman also enjoys the attention of the people they find attractive. I believe the same applies to men. I don’t think that means they ALWAYS and AUTOMATICALLY want to have sex with the other person. We have words to use to clarify the nuances and we should use them. We would avoid so many conflicts this way.

And this brings me to the point of after the fact remorse accusations of rape. My mind was reeling when Bob told me this is what was going on. I have, in the past, succumbed to peer pressure for sex. This was during our early days of swinging. I gave in to make Bob happy. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the attention and how things felt while having sex in these situations. But…Bob could definitely tell stories of some of my meltdowns as I suffered from remorse towards my actions. But never, did I ever, think of crying rape after the fact. Yes I did it for reasons other than my own, yes I felt remorse, but I still said YES. Therefore, I did not give the other person/people the opportunity to stop upon changing my mind. That being said, it did happen once where I changed my mind during, said stop, and everything stopped, respectfully. Whatever happened before that moment was consensual.  Now, had the other person not stopped, that would have become rape. So this story of claiming rape after you consented is a load of crap to me. Don’t get me wrong, I sympathise with the person who has remorse, I’ve been there, but you never gave that other person the chance to stop because you were no longer comfortable, pressured or otherwise.

And finally, I feel for all the men who get raped and are where women were 20 years ago, where they could not come forward at all. I will say, that we still have a long way to go to allow women to come forward safely and comfortably to tell about a rape occurring, but we need to make that leeway for men to be able to do the same. The issue for them is that our society says that “Men always want sex”. Again, they don’t necessarily want sex with YOU. “Men are stronger than women and should be able to fight them off.” Not always. There are women that are much stronger than some men these days. Also, women can be devious and use the psyche to get what they want. Also, with more women in positions of power, the same trend that happened with women entering the workforce and being coerced into sex in order to move up the ranks, well that is now transposing itself with the other gender. Some may say “Well good on them. What goes around, comes around.” But why should we take the things that happened to a previous generation and punish the new generation for it? It wasn’t their actions. And all we are doing is fostering a culture of revenge and getting what we want at any cost.

All in all, we need to start fostering a culture of acceptance and respect for one another. We need to understand that we all come from different backgrounds and it is OK to not agree with each other all the time, but we can respect others opinions and attitudes all the same. It is OK to agree to disagree and move on to other things. It is not OK to take advantage of others. It is not OK to hurt others, emotionally or physically. It is not OK to steal from others. So long as we are not hurting each other, can we not just live and let live? I strongly believe that if we, as parents, grandparents, politicians, educators, and society, foster positive and healthy attitudes, we can live in a world of respect and harmony. This may be a pipe dream, but I certainly hope the pendulum can swing back towards the middle sometime soon.

Until next time…



It’s been a month

Posted: July 28, 2016 in Uncategorized

Well, Clay and I have been seeing each other in what you might consider a dating capacity for the last month. We celebrated the milestone last Monday. He took me out for a very nice Italian dinner. Not before he gave me a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and a poem he wrote. More beautiful words could not have been captured.

After dinner, we came back to my place and basked in each other’s company while the TV played Mrs. Brown’s Boys in the background. What? I couldn’t get the TV in the basement to work and the TV upstairs didn’t contain the password for our Plex servers. So Netflix it was…with mostly chill. Lol.

And all of this was following a weekend as two couples on a wine tour weekend through the Prince Edward County. We stayed in an inn with amazing turn of the century architecture. I had passed this inn and spa several times growing up and had thought that I would like to see the inside of this place. I hadn’t realized this was the place I dreamed about as a child until we got there.

We visited many wineries and a cheese factory on the Saturday and bought way too much wine. We had a snack upon returning to the inn and a late, absolutely delishes, dinner, cooked to perfection. We chatted and chose new Ringtones for our text messages into the wee hours of the morning (and for us old folks, that means just after midnight. Lol)

On the Sunday, before leaving, I got to show Clay and Abby some of my favourite spots in the area, the ones I dub “happy places”. We spent hours in the water at the outlet beach at sandbanks provincial park and then about an hour at the lake shore Lodge point. I was so happy to recount so many of my childhood memories. And Clay showed true interest in hearing about them while Abby and Bob chatted away about whatever. Lol

On the drive home, I lay across the back seat, drifting in and out of sleep as Clay passed his hands over my legs gently or massaged my feet as best he could in our respective positions.

It was truly a nice, relaxing weekend where we let ourselves be ourselves.

Until next time…


I have been looking for another partner for the last 2 1/2 years, give or take. But, I didn’t really know what I was looking for. And then, when I did know, I felt bad making it clear and actually describing what I wanted. It sounded so selfish.

I determined that I wanted someone who would surprise me with the occasional gift (bottle of wine, flowers, chocolates) and take me out to dinner, even if I paid my own way. I wanted someone who would want to stand on plans that I might have made with Bob but Bob was not up to carry them out, such as hiking, skijoring (cross-country skiing tied to the dogs), swimming, etc. I wanted someone who would want to come and cuddle. And all of this without the promise of sex. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy sex as much as the next girl, but just cause I enjoy all those things with someone does not make it automatic that I want sex with that person. And this made me feel selfish since I couldn’t come up with anything concrete that I could return for all these things that I was seeking.

Well, I happened to find a person that fits all of what I described above and more. For the purpose of this blog, his name will be Clay. He makes feel wanted and desired. He makes me smile and he is a romantic. I wanted someone who is a compliment to my Bob and my Gun, and he is just that. He has the utmost respect for both of them and tries to show that every chance he gets. And he expects nothing in return beyond my time with him. We discussed how I felt selfish in seeking my above described list, and he said that he feels that I give him more than he could imagine in return.

We have been dating now for 3 weeks. I am beginning to consider him a boyfriend, besides, it is easier to introduce him as a boyfriend vs “someone I am dating”.

Yesterday, we went to the spa and baths not far from here. By we, I mean Bob, Clay and myself. Yes, I was there with two of my men and with their full attention on me. Well, except for the occasional drool over some women walking by with their desired attributes, which always makes me laugh. It was strange, but very amazing, to have their hands and their attention on me the whole time and openly. We had some glances but we didn’t care. It was such a magical day for me.

There is just one thing that has been plaguing my mind. One of my fucket list items is to have a weekend/sleepover between two men, whether or not sex is involved as a threesome. I could see this happening with Bob and Clay at some point (alothough I am getting ahead of myself here). But I really want this to happen with Bob and Gun first. I strongly believe that I cannot and will not have this happen with Clay until I have been in that situation with Bob and Gun. I don’t have very many “firsts” with Gun. This is one thing I really want to keep for him.

All in all though, I am in such a good place, and I am happy.

Until next time…