I’ve been thinking a great deal about bondage lately. Random musings keep popping up in my head about the best way to put these ideas into motion. The visions include lovely, spacious hotel rooms, my pretty pink ropes, a game bondage bottom and multiple hours to explore all ways the human body can be restrained. Dreamy, right?
The newest component to these daydreams: Pilates positions! I’ve been a devotee of this exercise regime for many years. A certain amount of strictness is needed to properly execute each particular component of core enhancing workouts. Because of this, it’s a wonder that I haven’t thought to combine the two sooner.
What a perfect opportunity; bondage play and slave-exercise training all in one! How it would work: once each position was assumed (i.e., the hundred, roll up, mermaid, double leg stretch, etc.), I would apply ropes both as a way to fully illustrate proper Pilates form and for my personal amusement, of course.
I can see it now. Ropes steadily tightening and locking my subject into position. Instructions about how to regulate the breath and surrender to the position. My delighted laugh filling the space with each new assumed posture…
I was in 10th grade when I discovered stockings. Not “pantyhose” (which is what most people think of, completely confusing the descriptors). Stockings. Fully-fashioned, nylon or silk, toe/heel reinforced, garter belt required stockings. This discovery was almost more earth shattering than having sex for the first time a couple of years later.
Jenny was my inspiration. A senior at the parochial school I attended on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, she was the most sophisticated girl I knew. My affair with cigarettes began after countless times watching her smoke Benson and Hedges 100s while sucking on cinnamon Life-Savers.
There was something subversive about the way Jenny’s legs looked to my still innocent eyes, so smooth in her nylons, garter belt clipped to the tops stopping mid thigh concealed under our winter uniform of gray wool. I began to imagine what it would feel like, slippery, silky fabric against my own skin. Eventually, my thoughts and curiosity brought me to a small lingerie shop not too far away from the high school I attended.
Regardless of what the ladies staffing the shop thought about this wide-eyed girl with knee socks and book bag tentatively drinking in her surroundings, they graciously shared all manner of knowledge about legwear: stay ups or garter fastened? silk or nylon? seamed or plain? I was completely hooked; the majority of my allowance expended on an ever growing collection of retro glam intimates.
To this day, those early lessons hold firm. I still drool over a perfectly stitched seam trailing from the point of a French heel. The lack of availability for good silk stockings is a constant irritation. 3 garters per side on a belt are always better than two. And, most important, no dress or skirt set is complete without my special secret underneath, decorating my legs.
I adore being a girl.
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I’ve always been drawn to comic books; there’s something about the mythology which is very appealing. Without exception, every superhero (or villain, for that matter) is an outsider who either
- learns to control the innate powers they have possessed since birth or,
- transforms through some incredibly traumatic event and uses their new-found abilities in the service of others.
Both choices accurately describe My path into the business and the lifestyle. It is a psychically powerful thing to start taking professional appointments and/or begin to introduce kink into your personal life. The opportunity to fulfill your fantasies, as well as those of any particular partner, makes the interior life becomes so strong, so outsize, comic book comparisons aren’t completely out of order. At times, My life feels like it exists in a parallel universe far removed from that of most members of My family and everyone I met before the age of 25.
I read from My previous (handwritten) journals from time to time; life on paper seems to be a great deal more integrated than the realities of My everyday existence. I feel like 2 people inhabiting the same body, constantly switching from D/s to vanilla persona during the course of a day (depending on the level of stress I occasionally contend with, the number rises to 3). I feel very close to My X-men namesake, Jean Grey/Phoenix. For everyone who isn’t familiar with her, quick rundown: ridiculously powerful telepath and all-round good girl who happens to be possessed by all-encompassing universal force with a habit of destroying worlds.
I chose My name with some accuracy.
Feeling so powerful, invincible and, on occasion, possessed when I play always makes Me wonder if people coming in contact during the course of an average day sense the alternate person not very far from My surface. Or, that it wouldn’t take long for Me to reduce surroundings to ash when confronted with a particularly vexing problem.