8-6 My History

It is thrilling, even a rush with the fright that sometimes comes with pushing the boundaries. Be it in writing or in some form of play. The thrill of seeing how far, how fast, how much can be crammed into a single event. Hockey is my favorite game, I grew up watching it with my grandfather and the best games, the ones that had us screaming at that old box on 4 legs near the fireplace was the times when they got into an altercation. Gloves flying off, helmets sliding across the ice as a fisticuffs moment broke out. Even better if the Rangers were beating the crap out of one of those looser Canadian teams, at least that is how it was in that house. Of course, the Rangers never lost, they were robbed by bad calls.

Fast forward to my teen years, decisions that would mold the rest of my life were the word of the day. What college did I plan to attend? What career was I looking at trying out? I remember my career counselor all but beating his head on his desk with me.  Apparently, the troublemaker student I was at the time did not have the foreseen discipline to become a doctor, a gynecologist to be exact. In retrospect that would have been a horrible choice for me, but I will skip the reasons why. I really wanted to become a writer but that was far from smart enough a career choice for someone of my skills. The thing is, I think if I had started back then I might have done quite well at it, potentially even making a name for myself. “Do not sell yourself short!” my parents’ mantra that pushed me into their mold of what they felt would be a good fit for me. During this time, I discovered girls did not give you cooties. In fact, they were quite pleasant company and there were benefits to getting especially close to some of them.

I was smitten with Kitten when I was fourteen. Her long red hair and buxom chest as she smiled with those deep blue eyes. Sigh, my first kiss and making out, first petting sessions. We never got any farther than that and we still stay in contact talking about life from time to time. My real sin was Jen, that brown haired demon in female form. We were rival high schools and both in the marching band of our respected school. We met at a competition and I was smitten with her. Romeo met his Juliette; we sealed the deal of our relationship on my sixteenth birthday when I skipped school and we started making out in a field. I was raw and new to relationships, but she was brazen and fiery, she knew what she liked and wanted without shame of expressing her desires. I got a crash course in sex and sexual fantasy. She wanted it to be rough and me to take what I wanted. Looking back there probably was some issue with her that I was unaware of, but I thought this was how all relationships worked. The next three years we were on and off again, we both dating others in the midst. Several of her female friends ended up in the back seat of my car. I felt like a big deal and I had quite a reputation of being a libertine. I was aggressive and forward, there was no edit button in my mind to mouth connection. I was fortunate that in all that insanity I never “took things too far” despite my aggressive nature.

College was a slap in the face, that pack I ran with had vanished and suddenly I was on my own. I met a sweet proper catholic girl who was always blushing at my forwardness and advances. When we got alone and I pinned her against the wall for a kiss and a feel I felt something all right. Her hand across my face. I was shocked and as much as it frustrated me, I also wanted to know what I had done wrong. That is when I learned my previous experiences were not the norm for a relationship. Of course, I was not interested in her version of a relationship. I listened and learned from her before we went our separate ways. I was soon introduced to another who was a huge influence in my world, she and I would sneak off to have fun in public places, it was a rush and I was hooked. She also introduced me to a guy who totally rocked my world like a F5 tornado in a trailer park.

I was raised men were to be with women, end of story no exceptions. Anyone who deviated from this was a pervert of the greatest order and would suffer horribly in life. He was as bold and brazen with me as I had been with Jen. The first time he took my face in his hand and pressed me against the wall for a kiss I almost collapsed. We spent that evening together and talked once he realized I had never been kissed by a man much less anything else. He was bisexual and that was fine by me, I was submissive to him and honestly in love. The next year was educational to say the least, he allowed me to express my thoughts freely and without shame or judgment. He introduced me to the wonderful world of BDSM and sexual freedom. When a situation arose that meant I would not be following the career path I originally started on he set me free. It was a tailspin spiral that sent me into chaos.

My first so called marriage was filled with secret affairs and wicked games. It was the only thing that made me feel alive and human, when that ended, I was a rogue free agent with a lust for adventure and all things pleasurable as I saw them. I lived on secrets and lies as a way of life. My second and very brief marriage was Jen 2.0 with a taste for rough and forced. We had no boundaries set, no safe words, her world was drugs alcohol and sex and mine was sex and alcohol. When I came to grips of the coming disaster, I got sober and she left. I spent years just floating about doing what I wanted but never in anything that resembled a committed relationship. My third marriage was good at first. I had hit a point I needed a break because this was not how “normal” people lived. It was good for a while, but a series of personal tragedy started ripping us apart. I missed the chaos, I needed it back to keep my sanity as I watched my wife of the time shrivel into a shell of the person she once was. I was an online flirt, perverted, shameless and found my footing in the poetry realm.

I started back on my exploration of my darker side; it was like coming up for air. Epic horror poems were rolling out as I reveled in the shock and awe they produced. That is when I ran across the mistress of angst. She was a force of nature and we ran in similar circles. A friend introduced us, and we got to talking. It was life changing to again be with someone who understood and accepted me as I was. She became my submissive and we were handfasted not long after. It was been a beautiful messy ride of an intensity I cherish, perfectly balanced chaos. We are open and poly, there are no lies, no secrets as we talk about everything.

So here I am, looking back as I am trying to make since of a upside down world. What is my next step, how will I proceed? Maybe I need to get that dark ink flowing again, after I wrote Dark Christmas several years ago it seemed to have stalled me. Maybe I need to revisit it and see what comes to mind.

Can we negotiate

I felt a shudder as Steven was close to my other side. Sara took the Bowie knife and slowly cut the remaining cloths off Jackie and tied her down.

Continued from the story like I have been running for the past month. Enjoy and for those under 18 this is not a place for you do please leave.

The previous stories are .The Great Adventure .The Game .The Cave

Sitting down on one side of the makeshift table with Jackie my mind raced as Chad, Sara and Steven stood on the other. The feeling of apprehension growing in my gut as different scenarios played out in that crazy space everyone has in their mind. Best case we would somehow walk out unscathed from the cave then run like hell back to civilization. I am not really one to focus on a best case though, my mind ran more along the lines of never being found as we are tortured and left in the woods for the bears. Maybe our remains be found when they were breaking ground for the banjo hall of fame or something like that.

Sara was the wild card, twirling her long pigtails and smacking her gum like some country version of Harley, I knew she would have to be the one to reason with. The guys might be the muscle, but it was easy to see she was in control. Her crop top just barely covering her ample breast showing off her tight abs, the short cutoff blue jean shorts all but flaunting the rest of what she had to offer. Both the guys in their dirty stained blue jeans with dingy cut off tee-shirts sporting a different rock band, were calm as their eyes stayed focused on us. Jackie did her best to keep herself covered with the remains of her cut tee-shirt.

“So Bo, riddle me this,” Sara started off with a playful glen in her eye “you liked it when you thought Chad was watching you two, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I stammered

“Oh no big boy, you liked it. You made sure Chad got a good look-n-see. You did not really seem to mind till you felt trapped by me and Steven. So, do you feel trapped, scared, worried thinking about what we might do to you guys?”

Swallowing hard I new she was toying with me as well. Testing my reaction, my response. A classic battle of wills and resolve, or was it something simple as she was taking charge even if I did not wish it? No, if that were the case we would not being talking, the guys were people of action more that thought and restraint. This was more a cat and mouse game with her, or maybe more a couple kids coming to the playground and the others wanting to see if they could play too.

“The lady asked you a question.” Steven barked gruffly

I snickered and he bowed up. I knew he felt slighted but calling Sara a lady was funny to me. She was a far cry from my definition of a lady.

“My apologies man, no need to get all bent out of shape.”

It was easy to see he was trying to show off for Sara, but she was focused on me. I doubt there had been many men in her past that would have been difficult for her to manipulate. For her, I was an unknown, a challenge, she needed to know how far she could get into my head.

“You think I am not a lady” Sara said with a playful pout.

She got up and rounded the table. Running her hand up Jackie’s arm I saw Jackie tense up even more. Sara leaned in close and kissed the side of Jackie’s face, her lips slowly gliding towards those soft lips I had felt many times. Sara’s hand slid to the back of Jackie’s head and applied enough pressure to lock lips as I watched Jackie melt into the moment. I was far from the first time she had been with a woman and I always enjoyed watching or participating with them. The situation here though was quite different than any other we had been in before. It was obvious Chad and Steven were enjoying the view too, but they remained on their side of the table.

“Tell me tasty little thing, what would it take for you to agree to let me any my boys enjoy some time with you, and your guy?”

Jackie looked at me with confusion and concern in her eyes. We were far from exclusive but normally we had an evening or more of negotiation for the wants, needs, soft and hard limits. This would be a first for us negotiating on the fly.  She looked at the trio as they eyed her like a new toy then looked back at me and bit her bottom lip. That was a sign I knew saying she was game for seeing what would happen.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked after the long hanging pause

“Well big boy, how about you guys watching us girls enjoy each other and I tie this little sweet thing down. Nothing harsh just some oral and fucking. With condoms of course, we like to be safe when we have fun.”

I looked down at Jackie and gave a shrug, she looked up and smiled sheepishly then gave a nod to say she was game. The tension changed from apprehension to excitement as the guys started to shuffle around to get a better view.

Sara smiled as she kissed Jackie and ran her hands over her body and slid open her already cut shirt. It was so sexy watching them play together. Chad crept up next to me to get a better view. He reached down to his boot and I gasped as he pulled out a boot knife.

“Hey buddy, relax. Sara is a pro and you are going to love watching this.”

IMG_20200719_220455926

I felt a shudder as Steven was close to my other side. Sara took the Bowie knife and slowly cut the remaining cloths off Jackie and tied her down. Chad was right, I loved watching her work, she was as good with a knife as I was. She turned and gave me a wink then handed me the blade as the guys got undressed and stood waiting for their turn as Sara enjoyed the sweet taste of Jackie.

“Just say red if things get too much for you baby, okay?” Sara said with a wink.

To be continued…

Come enjoy more wickedness at

Wicked Wednesday

 

BDSM and limits

The topic this week is how sexual is BDSM to you. For me this brings up so many different ideas and scenarios, thinking back over a couple decades of various kinds of scenes and categories of play. Different partners, locations and styles I have engaged in or with. At the end of the day it really is all about how far you are willing to take things. What are the things one wants to explore, are there limits that are soft and where is that do not cross line? The mind of my partner is just as sexy as their body. I enjoy sharing ideas or possible scenes and letting thoughts sink in as the anticipation grows till it is almost tangible, it is a type of foreplay for me. Negotiating a scene/relationship is something that may seem tedious but in the end it is necessary for any healthy engagement.

Several times I have been asked what are my personal limits, is there I line I will not cross. If you have been reading my blogs for a while you would know I tend to push the boundaries and can make many people uncomfortable. I will admit I get a sadistic thrill of reading how a scene sent a cold chill running down someone’s spine. I am not without personal limits though and I will share a few here.

I respectfully refuse to engage with someone that say they have no limits; everyone has something that is out of bounds for them. To hear someone say they have no limits means possibly they do not have a  understanding of the BDSM world, potentially they lack a sence of self-respect or preservation. It only takes a couple of questions to figure out which it is. With the former a little education and suddenly it turns from a kinky conversation to an explanation of things in the kink world and possibly a scene later. For the latter I suggest they find help. Some just like the idea of danger, but a few are seriously looking for harm from another. I could write a whole blog about those I have encountered that are looking for someone else to do them harm but that is not what this post is about.

Another absolute rule and definite hard limit for me is the use of alcohol or drugs before a scene. A drink or two depending of what is being consumed I might consider but when it becomes a point of impairment then I will simply walk away. If someone needs to alter their mind or lower their inhibitions to allow a scene to happen then in my humble opinion it is most likely past the comfort zone of that individual. I did not come to this personal limit arbitrarily, in fact there was a time when it did not matter either way to me. With age comes wisdom I guess, plus a couple mornings of regretting the previous nights actions. I get it, not everyone agrees on this, but it is my limit.

Consent is my last hard limit here; some would say that is an oxymoron given my proclivity toward CNC (consensual non-consensual) and RACK (Risk Assessed Consensual Kink) but there is a huge difference between consensual play seeming like it is from a non-consensual direction and actual non-consent. A CNC scene takes a lot of time, trust and effort, limits have to be discussed in detail, wants and desires need to be clear and concise. There is always, always, always a safe word that can be the fallback if things get too sideways for either party. Yes, I did just say either party, because as a responsible dominant, top, whatever you call the lead aggressor in a scene, he or she needs to be aware that the object of their attentions is still another human beings with normal physical limitations. This goes for RACK scenes as well. Even though risky and exciting situations can be fun the top must always be mentally aware of the potential danger they are putting the other person in, even though they have full consent. Why do I put it all on the Top? Because simply put when a submissive allows them to be put in a situation like that they literally are trusting you with their life, health and mental wellbeing. For those that understand this goes without saying but when a bottom gets into what we call subspace their thinking is altered. The lines between pain and pleasure blur, danger becomes some abject thing that does not really exist, previously discussed limits become flexible. In other words, they are extremely vulnerable and could be easily manipulated. If those boundaries are broken, the limit pushed past, lines of consent ignored they may seem to enjoy it at the time but once it is all said and done there will be damage to deal with. After any scene they will crash and need to be comforted, then they will begin to process what they experienced, if all went well and according to the preset negotiation then they will be happy and content. If not, they will feel guilty, angry, betrayed and lash out in some manner, from angry words to legal action against the person who they allowed to be in control of them.

Yes, I know I got a little off topic it seems but for me the ultimate sexual satisfaction for me is what I would call a perfect scene. One where every party enjoyed, we connected mentally as well as physically, even if what is typically perceived as sexual actions never occurred. Clothing does not have to come off, though yes, I do enjoy that as well. It is the satisfaction of a scene well done. That is how sexual satisfaction in BDSM works for me.

come see who else is being wicked this week

”Wicked
 

I am Disgusted

I am disgusted, enraged, revolted and otherwise just outright ashamed at the recent events in the kink blogging community. I will not be naming names or calling people out, I am seething, waiting for the childish hateful attacks to stop. If someone’s feeling or ego are so fragile they shatter like glass over a post that they took in a way so few have, then maybe they might want to look closer at their own self and do some soul searching. I am all for supporting friends and acquaintances but not at the cost of being divisive in our community that is already under heavy scrutiny and disdain from much of society.

These recent activities I have witnessed seem more like a pack of coyotes trying to take down prey rather than an honest mistake or blatant attack on the person or group that claims to have been wronged. To claim that someone apology was disingenuine or just for show will never allow them to ever be able to make amends. It is a militant mindset that disavow someone’s apology while constantly escalating till only their opinion is being touted loud and clear as if it is the only correct view.

It is disheartening to watch as bloggers that have supported and worked together for years now take sides. Suddenly there are lines in the sand, people that we are not supposed to talk or associate with. What happened to my kink is my kink and I can support others even if it is not my thing? Together we are a powerful force to be reckoned with, divided there will be infighting till only ashes of a once thriving community existed. As kink bloggers will we allow this to happen? I know tensions are high with all that is going on in the world, but people wake up, put aside the petty differences and allow an apology to be accepted. I consider those who will not accept an apology as the aggressor and danger to the community. The person/s trying to cause the fractures are a plague and the covid-19 of the blogging world.

For now, I will continue to blog what I feel like, write what I want to write. Participate where I enjoy participating and share what I feel like sharing. It is ok if you do not agree with me. There is a reason Baskin Robbins had 42 flavors, because we are all individuals and our likes vary. I will encourage everyone to stop and think how they would feel if suddenly they were under the same level of attack. Just be you, accept we are all different. Education is fine and disagreements will happen, but we are part of a big, fun great and often dysfunctional family. It’s time to stop bashing and start building one another up.

Life’s Pause

This week the topic was pause and I thought it was quite fitting for my life today. By definition a pause is a temporary stop in action or speech.

I hope it is just temporary, after all this was defiantly not on the list of how things were supposed to go. Without going into details on what has transpired it suffices to say interests have been shuffled around. Activities and events once participated in currently have been put on hold. It is no one’s fault, there is no blame to be placed. It is just life and the most insane timing in a series of events that has set every part of our world back on its heels.  It was not just us either, I was hearing story after story amongst our blogging friends, some so catastrophic I wondered how they were holding it together in the waves of chaos.

For everything there is supposed to be a season and a reason, or so that is what is said. Honestly I do care to know the reason, I just want the season to be over, for us to get back to the life we had and enjoyed. I know the reality, so much has happened and changed returning to how things were is impossible. Alas it is still human nature to look back to what we were comfortable with and wish life was like it was. Life is about change for sure, sometimes it seems that only through pain and destruction will we accept the changes. It is forced upon us as we fight tooth and nail till we are exhausted and succumb to how things are.

There is a personal struggle as well for me, two sides always battling, always at odds when facing issues. Do I go into military mode and scream damage control? Toss the broken parts out and attempt to cobble some facsimile of what used to work? Replace damaged items with new once we have weathered the storm and reached a safe port?  Next to expect the repairs to to make everything good as new, it seems preposterous and idea that things would go on the same. I seriously doubt this would work because then it ignores the history and scars that have shaped us. Honestly it has felt more like a siege for a couple years. Flaming boulders being lobbed over the walls of our inner circle. Outside forces we couldn’t control or predict having an extreme impact in our lives. Now that is more like it, the debris and burned walls that has been left behind. The concerns, fears, real emotional and physical pain that ripped through our world. It still hasn’t ended but it has lessened some, it went from external to internal. Nothing will ever be quite the same, I would be naive to ever think that, rather now it is a time for rebuilding, reshaping, remodeling. This is the part of life that we can use it to make us better and stronger.

I know, right now you’re thinking damn Raven, this isn’t sexy, this isn’t even fun stuff. No it is not, but it is honest life in all its raw reality.  In the depths of it all it has caused, or at least I have allowed myself, to draw on the deepest darkest places of my mind and soul for what has been a series of mental distractions. I hadn’t stopped writing, but rather I had stopped sharing. Why? Because it has been down abysmal dark lines that had become a twisted comfort. To know that could be a level of pain and horror deeper. That is where my muse has been digging, churning and bringing up depraved and what most would call vile and degenerate thoughts. I have wrestled with the thoughts if I should even share these stories. It would most assuredly make many people uncomfortable, trigger others, excite and thrill and unknown part of my readers. It would be a trip down a dark branch of the rabbit trails my mind runs along, where fear, chaos, torment and pain live. The predators and prey come alive, the bad guys win, there are no heroes, and no one saves the day. I had toyed with writing dark erotic/sex based horror in the past, but as event from the outer world unfolded the ideas that fueled the horror became an obsession and a release.

So I’ll just wrap up this long winded woe is me post with saying this, I started this blog unsure of where I was planning of taking it, what I was going to do with it. As life changes so do we and our view of others. I think it is time to let the colors fly and share what has become my obsession for some time. Enjoy, or not, that is your choice. I really hope in part it makes people feel and think, like any other good author would. After a pause for the past few years, it is time to come out of the corner once again.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked