First time in subspace
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Posted:Feb 15, 2021 7:52 pm
Last Updated:Oct 17, 2021 6:29 am
13236 Views
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Subject: First time in subspace Edited: March, 2020 Written: March, 2007 Happened: August 2006
I met Rob online and liked him a lot. We met for coffee. He said he wasn't dominant, but liked explore rope bondage. He had never tied someone in r/l. We agreed that no sex would be involved. This first time we met, we didn't even take our clothes off.
I went his place. We probably spoke a bit first, but we already had the foundation of our friendship from talking online. I've always enjoyed bondage, but considered it somewhere get as quickly as possible. I thought rope seemed slow put on, and leather cuffs seemed easier and faster. I'd never been tied with rope before. Was I in for a surprise.
He asked me sit in a hard backed wooden chair. He began by tying my hands beside me. He wrapped rope around each wrist and then the chair. was a very comfortable position for a first tie.
He was also very into gags. I like being gagged, and had a rubber bit gag that I didn't like much but had used before. I hadn't played in a while, and I was about to find out that I was ready to go to some pretty different places than I had before. When I'd played before it was mostly a bit of flogging at a local club, but I had never explored the psychological sub dynamic extensively, and had never gone into subspace, or whatever you would this place I was about find.
He stuffed my mouth with a small beanbag, and wrapped non-sticky bondage tape over it. After he tied off the tape, he put his head near the side of my head. I could hear his breathing in my ear. He touched the tape, clearly fascinated. His touch felt so smooth against the tape. He was fascinated and excited by the gag, and this fed my excitement. He took my hair in his hands, and that's when i went into subspace for the first time.
I tend to worry. I'm always trying to figure out what I should be doing, or could be doing different, or want to do differently next time. I say it's like 's a hamster on a wheel in my head. I had no idea that being bound and gagged would get the hamster off that wheel, but did. That hamster went sleep, and was like a euphoria for me. Being bound and gagged, wasn't any way for me control what was happening, unless I wanted indicate was a problem. Other than that, was out of my hands. What a relief. I had no idea this would be my reaction, and I'm not sure I'd ever felt the hamster go sleep before this. My head just rolled, and I didn't care how silly I looked. I was in a blissful place.
must have gone on for a couple of hours. He tied ropes around my torso. He tied ropes around my breasts and behind my neck. He got down on the ground and tied my ankles apart to the chair legs. He put more ropes around my torso. Each piece of rope going on, made feel more safe and secure, and took deeper. He'd stop and touch my face, touch the gag, kiss the tape, touch the ropes and if they were too tight. I just watched his eyes. I'm very shy, and rarely right into people's eyes. In this situation, it gave me a high to into his eyes, to be really present with him, to know he was in control, to know he was turned on by me being immobile and unable to talk.
He moved to stand behind and touched my breasts. His touch was hard. He them, and reached down my dress pinch the nipples. was incredible feeling him all around me and not knowing what might happen next. Our limits were firmly in place, and I knew this person well enough know that wouldn't go into a genital sexual direction, which was what I needed. Our clothes never came off, although the top of my dress was loosened. (I actually ended up with large bruises, so we should have taken our clothes off.)
He began take the ropes off eventually, and I began cry. I didn't want leave that place, I wanted stay. He seemed know why I was crying, and said me was time for the ropes come off. Just as he'd slowly put them on, he slowly took them off, always remaining the one in control. One rope after the other, as I quietly cried. Afterwards he held me, and I helped wrap up his ropes. He showed me how to wrap different lengths of rope so they would stay neat in his bag, and this became a favorite thing for me to do as a thank you to him after each scene.
We explored rope bondage once a week for a while. Each time it was like that, the head-rolling subspace. Sometimes things would be silly, sometimes I'd struggle, sometimes it was uncomfortable, sometimes it was erotic. We got to where all he had to do was pull my hair and I'd go into that peaceful place. He claimed to the end that he wasn't really dominant, and that lack of pressure was one of the things that helped me let go. I have played since then and gone into subspace, but nothing has been as powerful or as much of a shock as that first time.
The ropes going on had been such a slow process. Each wrap had taken me deeper. I say was a bit like canoeing for me. Strange connection I know. When I was younger, I used go on canoe trips in the Boundary Waters of Minnesota for a week at a time. We'd put in where were people, and then for 3 days we'd head deeper into wilderness away from people and civilization. Each day, took you further away from any easy way to get out. The way out if was an emergency was request a helicopter, or canoe back out the way you had come. was the reason we were , get so far away from civilization, but at the time was sort of scary. The silence in was so deep was palpable. was just a bit of relief for me when we were in as far as we were going go, and started head back out. Rope bondage was like that for me.
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Death's wings
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Posted:Feb 15, 2021 4:55 am
Last Updated:Feb 17, 2021 7:16 am
11716 Views
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I look at the buds still wrapped on the ripening kernels. I want to be in there, unhatched and unpolished. —Shirley Kaufman, "Poem in November", Gift of Tongues
Death's wings written January 10th, 2021
The Angel Death wraps his wings around me I feel him there when I stop suddenly Death's wings jostling around me settling into place.
He holds his breath so I won't have that proof of his presence or any other reassurance in this life.
Are his wings protection? or curse? Their silence wrapped around is my well known company these many years Death's wings my comfort in life.
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4
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Lucky
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Posted:Feb 14, 2021 4:25 am
Last Updated:Mar 12, 2021 9:02 pm
10488 Views
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Lucky written January 20th, 2021
"I've always been lucky," he says, standing at his gate talking this dirt road "I survived an inoperable brain tumor, cancer and they took one of my lungs, but I had 2, so I'm fine. Always been lucky."
He turns back to his home and dogs rolling the gate shut behind him.
I am left to wonder how does fate dispense luck? Who gets it? What type? How much?
Is it years served? arrests made? women loved? raised? dogs cared for and buried?
I sit in my car and watch him walk through the trees to the house he built with plenty of room to turn around in
I see the inexorable path the luck dispensed and choices made that has brought him to this moment he and his dogs at the end of this dirt road.
If he could choose different luck would he? this man who has always been lucky.
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Poems and people
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Posted:Feb 11, 2021 7:17 am
Last Updated:Feb 11, 2021 4:25 pm
11096 Views
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You hear yourselves in them, self after self ... when I leave, I leave alone, as I came. —Denise Levertov, "Poet and Person", Gift of Tongues
Poems and people started January th, 2021
Each morning I arrive into this world anew with a sigh and a memory of day before day self before self that has tried to take up permanent residence in this body each one feeling right until one morning it isn't.
This is my record of poems and people page after page after page.
At the end of the day each one perches on the edge of the night to fly away alone into the dark.
I sleep and wait to see who will arrive with the morning.
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4
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Snowing up north
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Posted:Feb 6, 2021 5:09 am
Last Updated:Feb 7, 2021 4:22 pm
11818 Views
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Enter now, O bird on the green branch of the dying tree, singing Sing me toward home; Toward the deep past and inalienable loss: Toward the gone stranger carrying my In the possible future —Thomas McGrath, "Part One", Letter an Imaginary Friend
Snowing up north Started February 2nd, 2021
They say is snowing up north And I am back walking over the roads I grew up on the crunch of the snow sings me home
past the fields waiting spring planting fence lines stretching off into the horizon
across the front yard always needing mowing now winter gives reprieve
up the front steps mother's pansies growing riotously ghosts from summers past
my fingers brush the doorbell cats never learned to ring now forever silent
I open the front door and go into my memories stepping on the black slate entryway
I wonder if his coat is already in the closet or if everyone is waiting for him to get home
in the kitchen the table is set the tea ready
this is the time everything will be properly arranged each talisman in the proper place
so the ghosts live here will finally have the longed for peaceful night
all of us keeping company in these memories that sing us home.
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5
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With each poem
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Posted:Feb 4, 2021 6:43 am
Last Updated:Feb 5, 2021 9:34 am
11107 Views
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With each poem written February 4th, 2021
I write the same poem again and again.
There are slightly different words but it is always
the entirety of my life that I write with each poem.
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6
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Weft and warp
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Posted:Feb 2, 2021 7:12 am
Last Updated:Feb 19, 2021 5:19 am
11278 Views
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Weft and warp started January 22nd, 2021
The cloth is woven weft and warp twigs and twine bits and pieces gaps and flaws make the fabric of my life.
I try to worry out the threads that I know aren't right the flaws that threaten collapse yet have become integral parts of the weft and warp that is me.
I smooth this cloth with my worn hands then fold it up and put it away to work on another day.
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5
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Precious gems
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Posted:Jan 31, 2021 4:35 pm
Last Updated:Feb 18, 2021 7:27 pm
11607 Views
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Precious gems started January th, 2021
Sometimes I think of poems and people misplaced lost missing gone
they live on as gems in my heart
tumbled smooth by the turbulence of my frantic love
each a precious polished stone ruby labradorite jade peridot
nightly before I sleep I kiss them each one so they will have sweet dreams.
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3
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Turn on the lamp
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Posted:Jan 26, 2021 8:20 am
Last Updated:Jan 29, 2021 3:45 am
11497 Views
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Turn on the lamp started January 13th, 2021
Turn on the lamp for the end of the day is near
Turn on the lamp let the light warm this page
Turn on the lamp and let go the worries of day
Turn on the lamp there is nothing fear from the coming night
Turn on the lamp that is your heart tonight you are enough.
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6
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Planting words
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Posted:Jan 24, 2021 8:45 am
Last Updated:Jan 29, 2021 3:45 am
11089 Views
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Planting words written December 26th, 2020
Each day I plant words eager see what they will grow into.
Some sit as seeds buried at the back of my notebook jostling against each other drunk on their own potential.
Some get lost in the wind gone before they can be grasped, someone else will catch them and plant them deep in distant soil.
Some are so bitter they burn through the page leaving ash as their only record.
Some form themselves sweet into orderly patterns ready to be released into the world.
Some days it seems right to polish those planted before that only now have started sprout.
Today what will you plant with your ? love? attention? I watch to see what you will grow.
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Tendrils twining
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Posted:Jan 21, 2021 12:52 pm
Last Updated:Jan 25, 2021 9:16 pm
11394 Views
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Will sunflower turn us, will clematis Stray down, bend us, tendril and spray Clutch and cling? —T.S. Eliot, "Burnt Norton" Collected Poems 1909-1962
Tendrils Twining written January 21st, 2021
Tendrils twining tightly around pulling towards? or away? or apart into pieces? wrapped tightly by tendrils twining these cherished treasures I have been pulled into resting here held safe while the world builds around over them and and us until we are seen no more known no more remembered no more tendrils twining tightly around.
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For you
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Posted:Jan 18, 2021 8:07 am
Last Updated:Feb 3, 2021 1:54 pm
9387 Views
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but you dart through future which memory your boys voice shouting out remainder of poems of which I know simply beginnings —Carolyn Kizer, "For Sappho/After Sappho," Gift of Tongues
For you written January 18th, 2021
My future self I want you to have songs in your heart and your tongue.
I need to see you darting through future boldly singing chanting screaming crying that today are unimagined and unborn.
Beginnings are anything but simple but for you to be comfortable having a voice I have to start today.
So I write these which feel so inadequate forcing myself not be mute
for you.
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This silence
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Posted:Jan 10, 2021 1:00 pm
Last Updated:Jan 22, 2021 6:21 pm
8602 Views
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"Silence is the only common language." - James Baldwin
This silence started December 26th, 2020
Our days are filled with words words around us and on us words that embrace and pierce words comprehensible and strangely made.
Among all this chaotic cacophony sits each of us with our own words spoken and unspoken understood and not understood.
Now it is the frayed evening and the one thing I can offer is to listen to your words, to bless them in my own way like the abbot at compline in the monastery dark and deep.
Then we both will part into the silence of the night the silence that surrounds us in the womb and greets us when we cross over at our ending
this silence which is our only common language.
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