Or.. Calling me out on my shit!
So in my last blog, That’s not camping! I mentioned that I offered Izrina’s ass to a couple of drunk nilla’s. No one called me out on my shit for that one, but if someone had, I would have definitely agreed with you. Offering your slave to a drunk is just plain wrong, no shit! Right? At least the way I described it, it might have seemed that way.
DRUNK, MY ASS! Its a cardinal rule with most intelligent folk that when you are drunk, stoned, or otherwise incapacitated, and are incapable of reading the subtle signs of a bottoms reactions to your sadist efforts, you do NOT try doing an S&M scene. You need to be in touch with your bottom, you need to read their body language, feel their head space, when you play.
Plus, I don’t know about you, but I have will power of steel.. until I am drunk, then all of my steel will goes right out the window. That slice of pie that has been calling me all day to break my diet, suddenly becomes a small indulgence I can make up for another time. Most pie is a weakness that can thankfully be corrected later but not all “small indulgences” are so forgiving. There is a reason college boys like drunk college girls.
Weakness is a problem. As a responsible top, its up to you to call an end, even if a limit hasn’t been reached. Ever have a bottom ask for more than you think is safe or responsible? Well, sunshine, guess what happens when neither of you can judge safe limits? Yeah, not good.
Such a fine ass! Some days I just caress that wonderful ass uv mein flogger bunny, and proclaim in a loud voice Mein! Ja!, Ein feines Arsch auf mein Flogger Hase. So why in the name of all that is holy, would I break a cardinal rule with my prized possession? Well, first it was fun to put my nilla buddies on the spot and to push my control of Izrina in front of them. That was a pretty nice high right there. Plus, since I have something most men only dream about, why shouldn’t I flaunt it a little bit? I LOVE being a property owner!
Nothing to see here. I would never however, allow my valued property to be in a dangerous situation. I instructed them where to strike, and created a box with my hands, so if they strayed, I would take the hit.
Now I am NOT going to say they hit like a girl, cause we all know that gender has nothing to do with sadistic ability, but these gentlemen certainly needed SOME kind of encouragement to hit a little harder. I mean really. I barely heard the slap of the leather. I think Izrina might have yawned if she wasn’t giggling.
They hit like they might break her. Like the poor thing was some frail little china doll. Ha! I’m not kidding when I say it takes a lot of strength to be a slave. I love that girl. She made me proud. They had this opportunity to leave a mark and I don’t think they even got any color. It was barely even a warm up by our standards, so yeah, nothing irresponsible happened. In fact, by our standards, it was more amusing than a scene and that was pretty much what I was hoping for.
The lubricant of the evening. What alcohol did facilitate was to get these folks loosened up enough to try something new, and it was fun for Izrina and I to have this happen. You might say it was the lubricant that made for an interesting evening. And just as you should have a designated driver, the sober one was me. This gave me the ability to monitor, and control the situation.
One size does not fit all situations. So in conclusion, if you were to admonish me I’d understand. I would NEVER go into a serious S&M scene with Izrina if either of us were unable to make important judgement calls.
But I also think that just like being a little too politically correct can take the fun out a room, being a little to rigid in your life can eliminate some opportunities to make some crazy memories.
Being responsible, with your irresponsible indulgences. One rule can not fit all situations. We need the latitude to make judgements on some things, and if they turn out well, as this evening did, perhaps you made the right call. Some rules were made to be broken, some fences meant to be jumped, some wild moments necessary to a full life. The object of life is not to arrive safely at the other end with no wild tales to tell. I came away proud of my girl, and amused, and I’m sure everyone else had a crazy evening they’ll remember for a while. Viva la mémoires!