Wednesday, June 19, 2013

FLOGGING: A First-Timer's Experience



As part of my BDSM research I’ve been interviewing submissives. One of these was a woman new to the Scene. When the questions turned to flogging, her description of her first flogging was expressed so well that I decided to give it a separate platform. Thank you, M, for sharing such a delicious experience with us. 

        So, starting at the beginning. Being asked to hand over my panties before heading to the dungeon threw me off-balance (no doubt His intent). Never having seen a private dungeon before, that was amazing and a little intimidating. Being in a large crowd of strangers seems easier than in close proximity to a smaller group - less anonymity. This was to be just an introduction to flogging.
First flogger
        I was not expecting to be asked to strip down to my thigh highs and heels either - I probably should have expected it, but just hadn't. Again, it contributed to a feeling of exposure and self-consciousness. I did expect to be bound to the St. Andrew's Cross and was surprised that He simply placed a towel at the cross-point for my comfort, leaving my hands and legs unrestrained. I was not sure what to do with my hands which were initially balled in tight fists of nervousness. 

       First, He spoke very closely to my ear reminding me to relax and remember the "safe" words in case I needed to pause or stop the flogging. He also said that he would check on my condition regularly.

       I was grateful that no one besides you were there with us, and that the beautiful music and lighting set such a sensual mood. When He started the flogging, it was soft, rhythmic and sensual, and always in time with the music. Strikes to my upper back, shoulders, and ass continued with variations in strength of impact and location. The feeling was pleasant, very relaxing and soothing. I focused on the recollection of His voice commands, the sensual music and the luxurious sensations of the flogging. My hands slowly uncurled and began to slide down the wooden frame I leaned upon.

       When He changed floggers, He checked to see how I felt. The sensations of the flogging changed with the texture and makeup of each flogger - some soft and others harder. Occasionally, I would hear Him take a deep breath and knew that what He was doing took strength, concentration and a focused effort that was exhausting. I don't remember all of it as I seemed to slip into a fugue, leaning my head on the cross and locking my legs to keep my knees from buckling. The flogging impact level increased, but I did not find it painful. It felt like a wonderfully relaxing massage.

       When He finished, I was wrapped in a blanket and pulled into His lap, curled into a little ball with my head on his shoulder, sated and foggy. Water was offered and I just enjoyed the warm cuddle while I came back to awareness of my surroundings. I continued to feel relaxed and foggy for sometime afterward.
       What a lovely experience. 
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
       Photos of his personal equipment courtesy of Wise Protector. He obviously used these floggers with great effect on today's writer. Wise is in demand as a presenter of workshops and demonstrations in the greater Delaware Valley area. He has given his "Flogging 101" class several times at Philadelphia's Sexploratorium as well as many other venues. For more information on scheduling a workshop, contact him at wise@bdsmandlove.com or via his website, www.bdsmandlove.com


~~ Cris Anson

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

WET AND NAKED



The other day the heavy rain beating on my bedroom window woke me early. One of my first thoughts was, Rats. My newspaper will get soaked.

Because I sleep in the nude, I grabbed a discarded t-shirt and a pair of silky running shorts from the laundry basket and, slipping them on, ventured out into the deluge. The rain was warm on my bare arms and legs and I took a moment to splash around barefoot in the rivulets running down my sloping driveway. Then I scooped up my newspaper and brought it back to the house, divested it of its sopping-wet plastic wrap and spread the pages out to dry.

But something in my brain niggled. My peripheral vision had picked out some activity on the porch across the street as I’d traipsed around, and I opened the front door to check it out.

Sure enough, my 85-year-old neighbor, who suffered from Parkinson’s, was standing there in a raincoat, looking timid and small. Her son had just positioned the folding wheelchair at the bottom of the five porch steps and was going back up, a dripping umbrella over his head, to bring her to his SUV which was parked at the curb. A doctor’s appointment, I surmised, for why else would he bring her out in such inclement weather.

Without further thought I splashed across the street, still barefoot, t-shirt and shorts already plastered to my body, and offered to hold the umbrella over Flora’s head while Bob helped her down the steps and into the wheelchair. He steered her to the passenger door then helped her inside, she protesting all the while that I was getting wet, and me assuring her that it was okay, the rain was warm.

Amid his thanks I handed Bob the soggy umbrella and stepped off the curb and into the gutter, where the running water splattered up to my ankles. It felt good. I splashed through the puddles in the street and literally danced up my driveway, arms outstretched (think Julie Andrews atop the mountain in The Sound of Music), face uplifted to the sky, mouth open to catch the raindrops.

It occurred to me then and there that I would probably have a wonderful time at a nudist camp, prancing around naked in the sun or surf or sand or rain. I imagined the raindrops slowly drizzling their way like sensual fingers down my exposed skin, touching every naked mound and crevice, caressing, stroking. I imagined the warmth of its embrace in, say, a pond or a pool or even the ocean.

And it occurred to me that I like being wet and naked.

How about you? Have you ever danced naked in the rain?

~~ Cris Anson

Thursday, June 6, 2013

You Will Want To Have NO PATIENCE



The book, that is. My novella, NO PATIENCE, is scheduled for release on September 13 and I’m thrilled with the cover I just received. What do you think? (I love the ruby ring; I’ll have to figure out in which scene the heroine will be wearing it. But that’s not a problem, I’ll slip it in when I get my edits from my awesome editor, Jillian Bell.)



NO PATIENCE is part of the Curve Appeal series Ellora’s Cave is releasing during September. Here’s how EC calls it:

Cuddle up to some Big Beautiful Women in this series featuring hot ’n’ heavy heroines who have a little (or a lot!) extra cushion for the pushin’. ;)

This, BTW, is the story I wrote about here. That blog is entitled “Lemons Into Lemonade: Blind Date Sparks A Story”.

Here’s a short blurb about NO PATIENCE:

Nervous but eager to explore BDSM, widowed Roseanne gets up close and personal with an erotic Dom. When he sets up some play scenes, she discovers she’s more than a bounteous handful—she’s an exhibitionist.

Mark your calendar for September 13 so you too can have NO PATIENCE.

~~ Cris Anson