tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78803512588795798432024-03-13T22:18:43.752-07:00Midnight DelicaciesHarlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-17978252104313945702009-09-17T08:29:00.000-07:002009-09-17T08:48:26.528-07:00Pretty SubmissivesThe other day Colombina and I were out together, and she was wearing a tremendously pretty, and rather posh, dress, and nice shoes. When we got back to the apartment, in the elevator, I pulled her dress up and spanked her a little, and then, when we reached our floor, I put my fingers in her hair, gripped hard, and pulled her close to me.<br /><br />"When we get inside, I am going to sit on the sofa. You are going to fix me a nice drink, and bring it through to me. You will then be my footrest for as long as it takes me to enjoy the drink."<br /><br />As I sat, with my feet up on my well dressed slavegirl, I thought about how much fun it was to treat someone like a whore when they are dressed like a princess.<br /><br />This lead me on to another idea.<br /><br />I want to dress my Colombina in some very nice underwear, and some nice shoes. She will make herself up very prettily, with mascara (non waterproof, for reasons that will become obvious), and eyeliner, and eyeshadow, and lipstick, and maybe a little blush. Her hair will be up nicely.<br /><br />When she is all prettified(NOT, dear readers, that my Colombina needs any prettification- it is all for effect, as you will soon see), I will handcuff my delightful princesswhore's hands behind her back, and lead her to the bathroom. She will kneel down in the shower, and take my cock in her mouth, being very, very careful not to smudge her lipstick. When she has done a good job of sucking me, I will pull my cock out of her mouth, and come all over her face. And then, just for good measure, I will piss all over her.Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-87109081052074560542009-07-23T10:45:00.000-07:002009-07-23T10:55:49.340-07:00Face fuckingI like it when Colombina treats me like a whore.<br /><br />And when she calls me a whore.<br /><br />When she tortures me, and licks me all over my face, and pushes her whole hand into my mouth and then wipes it all over my face as well. This has become a theme of our play ever since I got the enormous dildo. Since it won't fit anywhere else, I guess it just *has* to go in my mouth. And I adore being facefucked with it. In fact, you know what I would like?<br /><br />I would like to be tied up, on my back, wrists and ankles together, getting fucked in both holes at once. Or maybe have a ballgag on, with Colombina sitting on my face... Or maybe be made to sit on one dildo, while Colombina face fucks me with the other... Or maybe have one dildo stuck to the floor, and be tied, wrists to ankles, so that I cannot lift my face from it, while Colombina fucks me from behind...<br /><br />I really am a greedy little whore.Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-27333619543514908192009-07-17T07:44:00.000-07:002009-07-21T01:40:44.284-07:00Evil Bitch<span style="font-family: georgia;">That's me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">But how, Colombina?, must you all be thinking. We thought you say you were all sweetness and smiles, even when you were being mean?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">Well, that was before. Do let me explain.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">I shall begin by explaining that I love tickling Harlequin. It makes him squirm and giggle in the most delightful manner, and sometimes I can't stop myself, to the point where he has to stop me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">And this means I always arrived to the same problem: Harlequin is big and strong enough to put a halt to all my tickling assaults. But that didn't dampen my tickling urges in the slightest.</span><br /><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"><br />So we decided to do a scene where he'd be all tied up and entirely at my mercy and desires, that is, my desires to tickle him until he begged for the aforementioned mercy.<br /><br />Oh, boy, was that FUN!<br /><br />It was tremendously arousing, as well as hilarious, to tickle him with all my might, and then to make him all horny and keep tickling him, and bring him to the edge of orgasm and keep tickling him, and let him come and <span style="font-style: italic;">keep tickling him</span>.<br /><br />This combination of tickling and sexual stimulation is what made him call me an Evil Bitch, because he got to the point where he was desperate to come, but the tickles ministered by the Evil Bitch, that is, <span style="font-style: italic;">moi</span>, wouldn't let him concentrate.<br /><br />Tee hee hee.<br /><br />Of course, I did let him come in the end. Me, I'm an Evil Bitch with a heart, people!<br /><br />But do you want to know what I did while he was orgasming, and after?<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I kept tickling him.</span></div>Colombinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05862269247290652222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-4435574979198234102009-06-29T08:43:00.000-07:002009-07-21T01:41:04.532-07:00Let's Celebrate!<div style="text-align: center;"><img class="alignright size-full wp-image-4641" title="spanko-day-banner" src="http://americanspankingsociety.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/spanko-day-banner.jpg" alt="spanko-day-banner" height="262" width="262" /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Harlequin and I plan on celebrating this thusly: we are going to go around town, searching for a new spanking implement, and come the night, we'll give it a thorough try. Hooray!</span><br /></div></div>Colombinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05862269247290652222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-7293040551627172132009-06-26T14:02:00.000-07:002009-06-26T14:24:03.955-07:00Colombina wants to be thrown around.<br /><br />We have, on certain occassions, delightfully rough sex, grinding against each other, biting and scratching, calling each other dirty names, pulling each other's hair, one grabbing the other by the throat while licking and biting their lips...<br /><br />Now Colombina wants to do a scene like this, but more one sided. She wants me to use my physical superiority to throw her around, bite her, tease her and hurt her, all with my own pleasure being her sole concern.<br /><br />To begin with, I was not sure how well I could do this. I was very happy to try, but I wasn't sure how far I would be able to go.<br /><br />The more I think about it, however, the more I look forward to it.<br /><br />I look forward to hurting her, to making her moan and scream and writhe, to grabbing her hair in my hand and leaning close to her and whispering<br /><br />"Scream louder, little slut."<br /><br />I look forward to fucking her mouth, coming all over her face, torturing the soles of her feet, and leaving her bruised and sweaty and incredibly wet.<br /><br />I look forward to rubbing my hand over her dripping pussy, and then rubbing it all over her face, where it will mix with my come and her sweat.<br /><br />I look forward to coming in her mouth, and making her beg for a drink of water. And to making her worship my feet before allowing her to drink the water I spit into her mouth.<br /><br />And then, when I am done, I will pick her up, and carry her to the bed, and lie her down, and lie on top of her, pulling her into me and telling her what a good girl she has been.Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-29745419978210613242009-06-24T13:30:00.000-07:002009-06-24T14:21:09.024-07:00Her Vampire Cuddles<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">When I saw that Harlequin had reviewed our latest acquisition, I just had to give my two cents on the matter.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Oh, these vampire gloves... these vampire gloves are one of the best things in the history of glovedom. They can reduce one to a puddle of shudders with a simple handshake, go figure.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">So, as you can see, they are extremely low-effort, as toys go. Not that we have that many high-effort toys, like, say, a bicycle or a battering ram (my mind reels with the things that could be done with these), but this, these gloves really are the pinnacle of lazy dominantness. A soft caress, a little squeeze, turn immediately into an ocean of sensation (I find it the substitution of "pain" by "sensation" by the BDSM community a little puzzling, but also very cute). I love these gloves because they are an extremely psychological toy. The brain processes the feeling they cause as much more painful than it actually is. On one occasion, Harlequin was grabbing my breasts, just squeezing them firmly, but I felt like he was twisting and trying to literally unscrew them off my chest. Another advantage is that they are quite discreet on leaving marks. If one squeezes hard enough, a few red dots appear on the skin, and they may take a while to disappear if the skin is punctured, of course. But they certainly fade much quicker than bruises, and if one bruises like a peach like myself, that is something to behold.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">But they are also a psychological toy in the sense that they give a new twist to gestures that before were harmless or sweet and turn into menacing and very powerful. A caress, like I said, especially on the face, has a brutal effect on the submissive, in our experience, at least. We can certify it rendered both of us speechless when we experienced it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">To further illustrate the point, let me bring forth an example from our personal experience: After a particularly intense game that ended up with Harlequin lying on the bathroom floor and me wearing the gloves, he suggested coming on my gloved hand and then licking it off, because he is inventive that way. I was enthused by the idea, and I immediately held out my hand, the palm facing down. And he took my hand and turned it. I turned it again, to have the palm facing down again, because I am naïve that way, and he turned it up again. And then licked his come off the spiky palm of the cloves. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Another of their advantages is that they are really easy to clean, by the way.</span><br /></div>Colombinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05862269247290652222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-13920286574480143112009-06-23T14:05:00.000-07:002009-06-23T14:14:16.419-07:00Vampire CuddlesColombina and I have a new favourite toy.<br /><br />I got them because I wanted a particular paddle, but the company who made it wouldn't ship to me. So I looked for the next best thing.<br /><br />And i found it.<br /><br />Soft, sweet smelling leather gloves. With dozens of tiny metal spikes on the fingers.<br /><br />These are incredible. The first time Colombina used them on me, I almost dissolved, they felt so good.<br /><br />They are wonderful, because they set your skin on fire, and feel like they are going to tear it off, but it's actually very hard to make them break the skin. They can be used for stroking, squeezing, or slapping, and they feel incredible, and very different, in each way.<br /><br />We also enjoy vampire cuddles. We remove our clothes, and put one glove on each, and... cuddle.<br /><br />I feel I should say more, but I cannot think of what I would say without just rambling about how great they are.<br /><br />However, I will say this.<br /><br />I love it when Colombina sits next to me, wraps her arm around my shoulders, and puts a hand over my mouth. When she does it with these gloves on...Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-85370977620582364092009-06-09T12:04:00.000-07:002009-06-24T14:15:52.663-07:00Pubic shearing as a public sphere<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I am sat next to Harlequin in his bed. He is gleefully reviewing </span><a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.boyzshop.com/vampire-gloves_11.html">this</a><span style="font-family: georgia;">, and I am idly sitting back after a very long day of traveling. But all is good now, because we will get to spend a few days together.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">The only problem is that my pubis is slightly sore. You see, I foolishly went to have it waxed yesterday, when I should have allowed a couple of days to recover, and although the waxing lady was very nice and careful, it still got slightly irritated.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">Thankfully, I am anything but hirsute, and so I've never had the dilemma of waxing or not waxing, really. But Harlequin seemed to appreciate the idea of hairless nether regions, and so, soon after we first got together, I decided to go for it and get a complete waxing.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">I am sure a lot of people will have fliched at the mention of pubic waxing. I understand, I flinch when I think about shaving. I mean, a </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;">razor</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">? </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;">There</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">? </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;">Really</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">? Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. Also, I have heard all those stories about hair growing stronger and more stubborn the more you shave it, with a risk of infected ingrown hairs that I get nightmares about it. "</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;">The revenge of the razor pussy</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">". Hollywood, here's one for the books.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">The reason I want to share this with you is not gratuitious. The thing is, I've already undergone the procedure several times, and it never ceases to surprise me just how similar it is to a spanking. Or to a BDSM scene in general, really. But because spanking is, we could say, so far, my field of expertise, that's what I am going to relate it to. But, in general terms, consenting to someone, a stranger at that, to do very terrible things to your private parts? Surely you can see the connection.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">First, they smear the wax on you. That would equal the rubbing before a spanking. I love to have that wax put on me. It's just the right temperature, and smells heavenly, and there is that OMINOUSNESS when the smearing of the wax stops and you feel the first paper strip being firmly stuck in place, and you know that...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">... the first pull is exactly the same as the first blow in a spanking. It catches you by surprise, can leave you breathless and you know that there's many, many more to come.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">From there, the procedure follows a very similar pattern to a spanking, except I've never felt that my uterus was going to be pulled through my pores while being spanked. There is occasional further wax smearing/rubbing, and lots, lots of paper strips being pulled. It hurts a lot, it is absolutely endurable, and I am sure childbirth will be ten times worse, because then my uterus will </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;">actually</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> be trying to come out through my pores. Or something like that.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">Once the ritual is over, the kind lady who is getting paid to do that to you rubs some moisturizer on the affected parts. Ah, that aftercare is so welcome! And then you get dressed and pay her (not always part of a BDSM scene) and you part ways amiably.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">I am certainly not recommending anybody wishing to undergo pubic waxing as a substitute for a scene, which would be wrong for many reasons, the first one being that the waxing lady might not take too well to being turned into an impromptu dominatrix. But, much like the branch of anthropology that studies rituals, the similarities between both situations struck me as dreadfully interesting. And it makes me wonder. Are there other ordinary life situations that somehow replicate BDSM proceedings?</span><br /></div>Colombinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05862269247290652222noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-62570223462488032462009-06-02T14:38:00.000-07:002009-06-02T14:44:08.617-07:00PunishmentI have been a naughty Harlequin.<br /><br />Last night, after a bike ride, I was still wearing my lycra shorts. Colombina had gone to bed.<br /><br />And I decided it would be fun to fill these with shaving foam and masturbate.<br /><br />Which I did. It feels incredible. Try it.<br /><br />I sent an email to Colombina telling her what I had done, and how I looked forward to doing it with her.<br /><br />Then she told me that, to wash all the naughtiness off me, I was to take a shower, in which I was to make myself come twice in ten minutes.<br /><br />I failed.<br /><br />Now I am not allowed to come tonight, which I am desperate to do, and I have to do the same thing tomorrow, but I will have fifteen minutes. If I can't manage that, I will not be allowed to come for TWO WHOLE DAYS, while being teased, and then I will be given twenty minutes.<br /><br />So here I sit, alone, desperately horny, my mind full of thoughts relating to one week from today, when I will see my Colombina again, and I am not allowed to come.Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-72620734029672461572009-05-28T11:36:00.000-07:002009-05-28T12:30:48.746-07:00My eyes were bigger than my bottom...Since meeting Colombina, I have, as you have probably been able to tell from previous posts, started to get very interested in being fucked. (In fact, all you guys who, clad in nothing but a sideless satin dress and fishnet stockings, have NOT begged to have that vibrator in their bottoms, please, right now, PLEASE, are doing it wrong.)<br /><br />We bought ourselves a small funfactory dildo, in the shape of a cute <a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7880351258879579843" de="" uk="" pmenuid="32&produktid=303&"">dolphin</a>, and, rather than buying a harness, we fashioned one from our own pretty dyed rope, and I got fucked.<br /><br />And it was GOOD.<br /><br />But I wanted something more. The dolphin was fun, but quite small. So I decided to buy a new dildo, again from funfactory. The <a href="http://www.funfactory.de/uk/produkte.php?pmenuid=32&produktid=268&">Tiger</a>. It really justifies the capital letter. It is enormous, at 8.6 inches long and 1.7 wide.<br /><br />It is less than two weeks until I see Colombina again, and this monstrosity is lying on my bed in front of me. I am terrified, and incredibly aroused.<br /><br />I want this in me NOW. And I can't have it. Because Colombina is not here? Of course, it wouldn't be the same without her, but she could watch over webcam, and tell me *exactly* what she wanted me to do. That's not the problem.<br /><br />The problem is, last time I visited Colombina, I left my lube with her.Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-73439735800494411292009-05-22T01:37:00.000-07:002009-05-22T02:13:40.660-07:00Through the looking glass<div style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;">In my last post, I wrote about the change of idiosyncrasies that Harlequin experiences depending on whether he is being dominant or submissive. Those observations came from noticing similar changes in myself, and perhaps it would be interesting to discuss them as well.<br /><br />I am far from being a very dominant person, and my dominating style is even further away from canon. I can not reconcile the cliché of the leather-clad überbitch in the nasty heels with my vision of myself. One reason is that I can't bring myself to do it. The other one is that, now matter how much I try, I could never pull off that look. I am small and sweet, all soft and no hard angles, and if I were ever to wear full dominatrix regalia, I would look like a little girl all dressed up in her eccentric aunt's paraphernalia.<br /><br />That is why, when topping Harlequin ("topping Harlequin" here makes me think of ice-creams and chocolate sprinkles and other extremely playful delicacies), I am much more mischievous than mean. It is a lot easier for me, and I find it a lot more hot and entertaining, rather than barking orders and expect them to be carried out, to ask Harlequin in a sweet, girly voice if he'd be a good little fucktoy and let me put a few clothespegs on his scrotum while I spank the living daylights out of his bottom. And to look at him with big, worried eyes when he's been bad and tell him that, uh-oh, I'm afraid I can't possibly let him come after this. No matter how much he begs.<br /><br />This might be unorthodox, although I am sure there must be many people who feel more comfortable in a variant of this dominating style, but when I first started dominating Harlequin, I just could not bring myself to be outright mean to him in such an in-your-face manner. The playful, apparently lighthearted meannes, was a tremendously effective subterfuge for me to get in touch with my dominant side. I am not saying there might not come a day where I will feel comfortable in witchy, pointy boots and a leather catsuit, but for now, I am more than happy to wear an adorable, dainty set of lacy bra and knickers while wielding a scary-looking dildo to fuck my sweet Harlequin with.<br /><br />When I am being submissive, however, the best way to explain what goes on inside my head would be that it shuts off completely. Bottoming to Harlequin is the most beautiful way I ever found to let go. I become this dark, hungry bottomless pit, able to take everything Harlequin wants to give me. I can't think straight, sometimes the contradicting tension and relief that fight inside me make it hard for me to even move. I turn into a downright painslut, yes, desperate to be used and abused, but underneath there's also this scared, needy creature that longs to belong to Harlequin in the most absolute way possible.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">On a perhaps subconscious level, Harlequin seems fully aware of this, and he is brilliant at doling out the mean as well as the caring. The feeling of being scooped up in his arms and having my hair stroked while he murmurs soothingly in my ear after doing his very best to hurt me is fulfilling and overwhelmingly moving in a way that's hard to put into words. I never knew I could be this kinky before meeting Harlequin, and I do not know if I could still be kinky with someone else. Because, to me, the dominant-submissive part of our sexual experience is about much more than just our sexual energy. When we go into this dynamic, I feel as if we're tapping out not only on our chemistry and the attraction we feel for each other, but also on the deep current of trust and love that runs between us.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">I trust him completely, I love him completely, and that is what makes the pain and the sweetness feel so beautiful.</span></div>Colombinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05862269247290652222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-70842667091940204322009-05-17T16:39:00.000-07:002009-05-17T16:47:22.410-07:00I miss Colombina's bottom.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong; I miss the rest of her too. But just recently I have been thinking about her bottom.<br /><br />Until I met Colombina, I had no idea I liked to be dominant. But I do. And I *really* like spanking. Colombina has a somewhat theatrical background, and that shows when we play, particularly when I bend her over to be spanked. She collapses across my lap, or the bed, or the arm of the sofa, or against the elevator wall *ever* so dramatically and prettily. And then, when I pull down her trousers or lift up her skirt, there is her beautiful bottom, just *begging* to be spanked. Each side of it fits perfectly in my hand, and it turns the prettiest shades of red.<br /><br />Something that never ceases to surprise me about Colombina's bottom, and indeed the rest of her body, is just how rough I can be with it. For such a sweet, naive, innocent looking girl, she certainly can take a lot...<br /><br />I wish you were here right now, my love. I would spank you, and make you worship my feet, and suck my cock, all in quick succession. I would just tell you to do something, and every hesitation or mistake would earn a clothespeg placed somewhere on your body...Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-24377387073426226422009-05-04T10:46:00.000-07:002009-05-04T10:56:46.561-07:00PresenceThese past two weeks have been wonderful, my love.<br />They have included all kinds of wonderful things, from public bondage, spankings, and sex, to rubbing tiramisu all over each other at home. Your bottom has never known so much attention, and I cannot tell you enough how much I enjoy reddening it.<br />And you, my love, from your humble beginnings, have become an unquenchable painslut, desperate for more, always. We both know that your bottom can never be red enough. I have spanked you with my hand, with a hairbrush, a riding crop, a flogger, a beach tennis bat, and much more besides. You have popped out now, for a little while, and I miss you, and your hungry bottom, hugely. It has been a few days since you were properly spanked, and I think tomorrow may be the day I make up for that.<br /><br />However, it seems that, as the result of a lost scrabble game, I will have to worship your feet tonight, and suffer who knows what other indignities. *sigh*. And this is on top of the other night´s indignities, when, after spanking me until my bottom lit up the room, you proceeded to fuck me, as hard and fast as you could. The dolphin-shaped dildo may look cute, but it feels only rough and businesslike.<br /><br />Also, when I meet you shortly, we are going to our favourite shop. I wonder what wonders it contains?Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-69262060466875879782009-04-21T14:05:00.000-07:002009-04-21T14:07:17.980-07:00ColombinaTomorrow, I will see Colombina again.<br />After six and a half weeks apart.<br />I have missed her so much, it feels like a part of me is missing.<br />My stomach is full of butterflies, and I cannot stop smiling.<br /><br />Soon my Colombina will be here.Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-22334403924770706952009-04-19T11:13:00.000-07:002009-04-19T11:15:21.875-07:00EroticityRecently, Colombina went away, to another continent, for two weeks. We had only email contact. Needless to say, we missed each other terribly.<br /><br />What follows is the unedited text of the emails we sent each other.<br /><br />To: Colombina<br />From: Harlequin<br /><br />I want to tease you.<br /><br />I want to tie you naked, spreadeagle, against a wall.<br />Then I would kneel down and begin to kiss and lick your feet, slowly, sliding my tongue in between each toe in turn, turning you on as much as I could.<br />Then I would slide my tongue up your legs, up the inside of your thighs, until I reached your pussy.<br /><br />Then I would stop.<br /><br />And I would stand up and slide my hand down your body, and then cup it over your pussy, so you could feel the air warmer around it, but not touch my hand.<br /><br />Then I would slowly run my tongue over your lips, daring you to move. Pulling your hair. Whispering.<br /><br />Then I would slide a blindfold over your eyes, and walk away a little.<br /><br />After a few seconds, or minutes, you can't be quite sure, I return, and I kneel in front of you again.<br /><br />I have a soft, soft eyeshadow brush in my hand, which I run slowly over your labia, and up to your clit...<br /><br /><br />This is what awaits you, my darling.<br /><br />Come soon.<br /><br />_______________________________________________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><br />To: Harlequin<br />From: Colombina<br /><br />You wake up on a bed, unable to see a thing because you are <br />blindfolded, your wrists tied together and over your head to the <br />headboard, your legs spread open.<br /><br />Not a thread of clothing on your body.<br /><br />My hands run down your sides as I slide down your body, and you feel <br />the rustle of a very soft fabric. My hands stop at your hips, and, <br />very slowly, I take your cock in my mouth and start sucking it at a <br />very leisurely pace, until you feel you can't take it any longer.<br /><br />And then I stop.<br /><br />Immediately afterwards, my hand grips your ankle firmly, and you feel <br />the ice-cold tip of a fork that's been coated in water and left in the <br />freezer caressing the sole of your foot. The more you squirm, the more <br />the fork digs itself into the arch of your foot, your heel, your <br />toes... And then it starts travelling lightly up your leg, insisting <br />on the insides of your thighs, up your torso and neck, pausing only to <br />tickle the corners of your mouth.<br /><br />The fork stops, and you feel my weight shifting as I straddle you, my <br />bare legs pressing firmly against your sides.<br /><br />Your blindfold comes off.<br /><br />And you can see that all I am wearing is a gorgeous lacy corset with <br />matching knickers, and I start to grind against you without listening <br />to your pleas to be untied...<br /><br />__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________<br /><br />To: Colombina<br />From: Harlequin<br /><br />Imagine you are tied, with your hands behind you, uncomfortably on the floor. Naked. Your legs spread and held.<br /><br />You see me approach you, with a wicked smile on my face. Slowly, I insert a string of beads into your pussy, and then tie a cord to the end of the string, which runs up through a loop in the ceiling.<br /><br />Then I attach clothespegs to your nipples, which are also attached to the cord.<br /><br />The cord is placed in your mouth, and a weight is attached to the other end.<br /><br />You grip the cord between your teeth, knowing that pegs will be pulled from your nipples, and the beads from your pussy, if you do not keep your mouth shut.<br /><br />With another wicked smile, I begin to gently tap the soles of your feet with a cane...<br /><br /><br />___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________<br /><br />To: Harlequin<br />From: Colombina<br /><br />You are tied to a wall, with some degree of movement to lean forwards <br />and backwards. There is a buttplug on that wall aswell, and whenever <br />you lean against the wall, you impale yourself deeper on it.<br /><br />I am sat on a table very close in front of you, legs dangling and <br />spread open, and I tell you to come fuck me.<br /><br />But do you know what happens if you lean forwards?<br /><br />You see, there is a cord tied to the wall too. And that cord runs over <br />your shoulder and down your torso, and at the end of the cord there is <br />a pair of sweet clothespegs, and the clothespegs are attached to your <br />testicles. Everytime you move towards my pussy, the clothespegs tug at <br />you, and if you lean back to ease the tension, there is the buttplug <br />to behold...<br /><br />__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><br />To: Colombina<br />From: Harlequin<br /><br />Imagine you are naked, and bent over your bed. The dolphin is in your bottom.<br />Then I come up behind you, naked, and slide my cock into your pussy. I bed over you and grab your left shoulder with one hand, and you hair with the other, and pull you into me, so that every thrust pushes my cock and the dolphin into you more...<br /><br />__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________<br /><br />To: Colombina<br />From: Harlequin<br /><br />I want to tie you into a tight chest harness, in pretty purple rope, a harness that holds your breasts in position *very* firmly. Then, I want to take a riding crop, and begin to gently crop your nipples...<br />Then, when they have had enough, I will loosen it off slightly, add a pleasantly taught crotchrope, and take you for a walk...Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-67229480898038810862009-04-17T01:14:00.000-07:002009-04-18T01:59:08.850-07:00It's all in the eyes<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">One of the many things I love about Harlequin is the changes in his demeanour depending on whether he is dominating or I am. I am not talking about the *obvious* changes (if he is topping, then chances are he'll be the one doing the spanking, and if I am, then he'll me doing my bidding most of the times), I mean those very subtle and delicate signs. In a way, it's like he is retreating into different Harlequins to suit the situation. I don't know if he sees similar changes in myself in these circumstances, and, if he does, if he deems them equally significant, but to me, these idiosyncrasies are at the very core of his sexual persona.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">The dominant Harlequin is expansive and grave. He delights in catching me by surprise, in using his physical superiority to his advantage, in showing me just how *easily* he can lift me up and throw me on the bed, or restrain both my wrists using only one of his hands. And his eyes, oh, don't get me started on his eyes. They become hard and dark and hungry, letting me know with every blink that I am his and nobody else's, and that he is going to make sure I don't forget it. That I am his to torture, his to fuck, and also his to protect, and his to love.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">But when my dear Harlequin becomes submissive, those very same eyes become warm and big, oh so big, staring at me in awe, begging me to do my very best and very worst with him (which, to all intends and purposes, tend to go along the same lines), letting me know that he is utterly mine, my sweet little fucktoy, mine to play as I want. Although there are no physical changes about his person (other than the fact that he tends to wear considerably less clothes than when he is being dominant), he seems to become smaller, and vulnerable, which makes me want to bite him and spank him as much as it makes me want to gather him in my arms and cuddle him.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">These are not the only Harlequins I share the bed with (now that I think of it, it might be fun one day to talk about the Ravenous Beast, a personality we both share), but they are the first two I got to meet, and I love them both to bits and cannot wait to meet them again.</span><br /></div>Colombinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05862269247290652222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-45718413533934441792009-03-29T15:48:00.000-07:002009-03-29T15:57:50.437-07:00FeetAs has probably become clear by now, I am something of a foot fetishist. I find that no other part of the body has skin as smooth as the top of the feet, and I adore kissing such velvety skin.<br />The feel, the taste, the smell... I know feet have a reputation for smelling bad, but I find that Colombina's feet smell wonderful, and taste better.<br /><br />I love kissing, licking, nibbling and rubbing her feet. And I love her reactions to all of these things.<br /><br />In an earlier post, Colombina mentioned that I find that part of the appeal of footworship for me is that it is a submissive act. That is true to an extent- I find it very hot to be *told* to kiss Colombina's feet- but I also enjoy doing it of my own volition- because it seems to bring such enjoyment to us both.<br /><br />It seems *very* unfair, therefore, given how nice I am to Colombina's feet, that she takes so much delight in being mean to mine. She drags her nails down my soles, she bites them, she scrapes them with her teeth... What did my poor feet do to deserve such treatment? And why does the rest of me enjoy it so much?Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-57831138599205517512009-03-26T10:31:00.000-07:002009-03-26T11:01:29.408-07:00Blushing cheeks<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">I love being spanked.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Correction: I love being spanked by Harlequin.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Which, to be honest, is not something I would ever have imagined.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I have always enjoyed having my bottom touched, but I never thought of asking anyone to elaborate on that despite how much I enjoyed it. Like, that thing you are doing with your hand and the squeezing? Would you mind doing it a little bit harder, and for a little bit longer? Like, maybe, ALL DAY LONG longer? No. I was one of those women afraid to say "Stop moving those hands and the blowjob deal is OVER, buddy".</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">So the first time Harlequin bent me over (a kitchen sink; I was doing the dishes) and landed a blow smack on my behind, there was no frame of reference for what had just happened other than "Oh, my GOD, do that </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" >again</span><span style="font-family:georgia;">". And, being the sweet, compassionate, caring partner that he is, he was happy to oblige. And that one spank soon became a few more, and my bottom had never been this happy.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">There is something feral about Harlequin when he grabs me around the waist and bends me over or throws me on the bed, making me tingle with <span style="font-style: italic;">anticip-pation</span>. It's something that makes me want him even more that I normally do, which is *a lot*. Think supernova numbers and maybe you'll start to approximate. There is a delicious mystery in those first few moments of wondering "Is he going to pull down my trousers?" "Is he going to take off my knickers?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">And then comes the rubbing. Oh, oh, sweet rubbing. I love having my bottom rubbed just as much as I love having my feet rubbed, if not more. Inventors of the world, I'll let you take the credit for a pair of knickers that rub the bottom constantly if you'll send me the first prototype.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">And one of the things that make me love the rubbing part so much is that knowledge that the beginning of the spanking is inminent. That I can almost feel that very first time when his hand lands on my bottom...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">And there it is. The first spank is always my favourite. Because afterwards, there is always some more rubbing, which is Harlequin's way of saying "Are you okay?", and "Are you ready for more?", and "My, your bottom is gorgeous".</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">And because the first spank means there are more spanks to follow.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Harlequin excells at the manipulation of my bottom. He just seems to know when I am ready move on from his hand to more expeditive implements (do remind me to talk about the World's Beautifulest Flogger, currently in our posession, at another time), and when I need a good rubbing. He just knows how to get my bottom to turn the most interesting shade of red, and how to intude the most delicious, bubbly shivers...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">And he has the most absolutely perfect timing for sliding his hand between my legs. Yes, I am indeed a lucky lady. And no, you may not borrow him.</span><br /><br /><br /></div>Colombinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05862269247290652222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-92082643469435890742009-03-24T14:02:00.000-07:002009-03-24T14:36:49.972-07:00ShuddersI like shudders.<br />For those of you who are not aware, a shudder is that feeling when your lover says something that turns you on so much that you feel like a bucket of ice has replaced all your internal organs, and you are left as a little puddle of arousal on the floor.<br /><br />To begin with, these shudders were infrequent, until we found the right name for them, and started producing them in each other intentionally. Then we began in earnest, sending each other text messages intended to make each other shudder. I remember on one occasion, Colombina was in a meeting, in a meeting room that had wireless internet.<br /><br />We took full advantage of that.<br /><br />Recently, though, we noticed that the shudders have tailed off considerably. We were worried for a moment or two, before we realised why.<br /><br />Being in a long distance relationship means, at least for Colombina and I, a lot of cybersex. But the problem with cybersex is that it can get monotonous.<br /><br />Right now, I would like nothing more than to worship my beautiful Colombina's beautiful feet... To rub them all over, to begin with, and then gently kiss the top of each foot.<br /><br />To pick one up, and slide my tongue from her heel to her toes. To place each of those toes in my mouth, and lick and suck and nibble it. To slide my tongue in between each of her toes, before placing her whole foot in my mouth, dragging my teeth gently across her sole and running my tongue everywhere.<br /><br />Now, if I were to do that to the <span style="font-style: italic;">other </span>foot, I am almost certain that Colombina would not object. But to <span style="font-style: italic;">describe</span> doing it? Not so exciting.<br /><br />And here lies the problem. But I feel that the ending of the easy-shudder phase is the equivalent, for us, of the end of the can't-keep-our-hands-off-each-other phase. And it doesn't seem like that phase is ever going to come to an end.<br /><br />How can it, when I am faced with the prospect of being able to touch the most beautiful girl in the world?Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-58794863872426183112009-03-19T06:24:00.000-07:002009-03-19T06:43:03.079-07:00Red Rant<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;">My period came today.<br /><br />That is definitely a cause for rejoicing. My period is *always* on time, and now it was almost a week late and I was starting to get ideas.<br /><br />Although now I realize that it is not late, February is just three days shorter than January and March and even my punctuality-nazi cycle couldn't make up for three days. I had just counted wrong. YES, I am THAT DUMB.<br /><br />And now I am in SO MUCH pain I am starting to wonder what is the big deal about being pregnant. Ah, yes, that's right, a baby comes out of your vagina after nine mensturationless months. Oh, poo. What's that you say? Swollen ankles? Nausea? Having to pee every thirty seconds? Walking around with an elephant attached to the mid-section? OKAY I GET IT.<br /><br />Menstruation is the one thing that I can't really share with Harlequin. Or that any woman can't really share with their partner. Except if that partner happens to be another woman. Those lucky lesbians! Oh, yes, and a man with a menstrual fetish, I guess. Although the thought of having anyone else's body parts within a foot of my uterus in these moments of abhorrent suffering makes me want to *kick*. So don't come offering sexual favours if you value your life, I AM WARNING YOU MENSTRUAL FETISHISTS.<br /><br />Most men I've known show reactions that range from sympathetic indifference to woman-I'd-rather-have-my-eyeballs-clawed-out-than-hear-about-the-blood-that's-cascading-down-that-orifice-of-yours-that-I-usually-rather-like. The thing is, no matter how compassionate they are about our periods, they are practically oblivious to them, except for the "no sex for three days" consequence, I guess. It's an invisible pain that they can't fully comprehend because THEY DON'T HAVE THE EQUIPMENT TO REPLICATE IT (and offering to kick them in their nether regions won't quite do it, I am afraid). So when your loving partner looks at your bedraggled face and wonders what exactly you are doing in your dressing gown and pyjama bottom and a cup of tea at three in the afternoon, and you tell them your communist friend decided to drop by, don't resent him for not understanding. Is the price we pay for the ability to multitask, boobs, and prettier feet.<br /><br />Oooh, I could SO do with some foot-loving right now.<br /></div>Colombinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05862269247290652222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-66186359410612201952009-03-18T11:03:00.000-07:002009-03-19T00:22:02.233-07:00Stage Fright<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">A few weeks ago, Harlequin and yours truly participated in a Haunted House that preceded a scary show. With several bits and scraps from around the theatre, we composed the following outfit:</span> <span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /><br />I was wearing a pseudo-edwardian shirt, black with white lace around the collar and cuffs, a black, long skirt, a black lace veil that covered my hair and my eyes and cascaded down my arms. Oh, and a plastic black hat that was not aesthetically neccessary, or even all that pleasant, but that was essential to keep the veil in place and hide the scruffy ponytail I had bunched my hair into. My face was painted white and my lips black, with the corners of my mouth elongated in two jagged lines.</span> <br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">And Harlequin? We painted his face as cadaveric as possible, and we got a large piece of fabric to cover him with. We positioned ourselves in our place, a somber corridor lit by one single candle, with cobwebs and spiders dangling all over the place (all fake, of course. I wouldn't have been able to stand anywhere, let alone scare anyone, if there had been ACTUAL SPIDERS dangling ALL OVER THE PLACE) me standing and him sitting next to me. The black fabric he was wrapped in made his body merge into my skirt, giving the impression, in the dim light, that I was wearing a large, albeit, slightly lopsided petticoat.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Maybe you are wondering where the costume is going. Well, once positioned, I put my arm around Harlequin's head, et voilà! We had the fantasmagoric bride with her skeletal groom's head tucked under her arm. And it worked! We unsettled people walking by. Many wondered whether Harlequin's head was real, and he was happy to demonstrate cackling or screaming. </span> <span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /><br />At one point, he put his hand around my knee to steady himself. Maybe now is a good time to reveal that the skirt I was wearing had a gash on the side, and his hand had sneaked through it to rest on my bestockinged leg. Did I say rest? Well, you obviously still don't know Harlequin if you believed that. He started sliding up the inside of my thigh, until he could climb no further. And then, the </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" >nerve</span><span style="font-family:georgia;">!, my beloved incorporeal head started to </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" >explore</span><span style="font-family:georgia;"> the area with his seemingly invisible hand.</span> <span style="font-family:georgia;">All the while I was having trouble keeping a straight face and focussing on the task at hand, which was to scare innocent members of the audience, and not indulge in activities that might make me want to detach from my oversized petticoat to jump him.</span> <br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">"If we are going to do this again tomorrow", he said, "it would be better if you weren't wearing any knickers."</span> <br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">"No tights either, I presume?", I added.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">"Definitely not."</span><br /></div>Colombinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05862269247290652222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-47924075428996952162009-03-15T14:57:00.000-07:002009-03-15T13:22:47.111-07:00Fun and Games<span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Strip Scrabble.</span> <span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><br />For every letter above five that is in a word, one item of clothing must be removed. When all clothes are gone, services may be traded instead.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">The cream game.</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">By special means, which I will explain to anyone who asks in the comments, both players have their hands fastened behind their backs, with a bowl of cream in front of each on the floor. Players must lick the cream up. When one player finishes, players release each other, and the winner pours the remains of the loser's cream over their feet, from where the loser must lick it all.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Tug o' war.</span> <span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><br />You will need two anal toys. I recommend something like </span><a style="font-family: lucida grande;" href="http://www.funfactory.de/produkte.php?pmenuid=32&produktid=255&PHPSESSID=0068ee768a26169a0ee220fe79b33bc6">this</a><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">; the important part is the little loop at the end. Tie a piece of strong cord between the two loops, and insert the toys, one each. Now, get on all fours, facing away from each other. The goal is to pull your opposition's plug out while holding yours in.</span> <span style="font-family:lucida grande;">NB: For bonus anarchy points, play on a plastic sheet covered in chocolate sauce, or something equally sticky. Loser, of course, has to lick the winner clean.<br /><br />Tug o' war II.<br />A clothespeg is placed on each player's tongue, and these are connected by a string. Players get on all fours, facing each other, and pull. You may grip the peg with your teeth, but this will put more pressure on your tongue. Whoever pulls the peg off the other is the winner, and then has oral sex performed on them by the other, with their poor, sore tongue...<br /><br />Dice Game.<br />Each player rolls a six sided die. Whoever get's the lowest roll is bent over, and has a number of icecubes relating to the difference between the two numbers placed in their bottom. A tie results in a re-roll, and one ice cube being added to the eventual total.<br /><br /><br /></span>Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-70496748624821322492009-03-13T15:31:00.000-07:002009-03-15T13:22:34.376-07:00Awakenings<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">I remember the first time Harlequin kissed my feet.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">It was also the first time ever we had some kind of physical intimacy, at the very brand new beginning of our relationship, we could say.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">We were staying at a friend's house over Christmas, and I snuck into the living room where he was sleeping, to bid him goodnight. Yes, *that* is what the kids are calling it these days.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">We started kissing. Serious kissing. That wasn't our first serious kiss, however. That had happened a few hours earlier in the car, when our friends made the mistake (or had the wisdom, I guess we'll never know) to leave us alone in the car for, oh, I don't know, two minutes. And in those two minutes we locked lips and barely came out for air and there was this voice at the back of my head chanting "Must... have... him".</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">But I digress. There were we, on a couch, kissing each other very sweetly, and urgently at the same time (I had always wanted to kiss someone *urgently*). My clothes came off a lot faster than I had anticipated, but I didn't regret seeing them go. There was the urgent need to touch, to smell, to taste, to feel (I had always wanted to feel an urgent need to all that), and a lot of things happened, I don't remember exactly because I was on a high of urgency, but I do remember thinking "I had never felt this good. I had never felt this attractive.", because, the way Harlequin was looking at my naked self, a self that I violently struggle with (more on that at another time, perhaps) like I was the most gorgeous, attractive and delicious woman ever to walk this earth, and everything about him told me that he wanted me, and that was intoxicating.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">At some point, though, I was sort of lying upside down on my back on top of him, and his hand went down my leg from the knee, went past my ankle, held my left foot, and then, looking me in the eyes, he politely asked:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">"May I kiss your feet?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I was startled by the request. I had had my feet kissed in the past, but nobody had ever asked for permission to do so. (Not that I minded. I *love* having my feet played with. Hell, I was *happy* that my feet were a free-for-all buffet).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I was wholly unprepared for the delicate, passionate way in which Harlequin brought my foot to his lips and started to worship it. How he reveled in it, how sincerely he told me I had the most beautiful feet he had ever seen, or kissed, thus making me blush ("He thinks my feet are beautiful!"). I think it was that, the foot-kissing, that forged our physical intimacy on that first night.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I know that for Harlequin, foot worship is an inherently submissive act, as is for most people who are in the BDSM scene. But because of that first time, where he kissed my feet as a way to know me, as a way to love me, in such a sweet, sweet manner, I will never be able to see it that way. To me, kissing, licking, nibbling the feet of someone you love is an act of trust, a display of love, a way to shower them with affection. Maybe it is because I have a very unorthodox and unprejudiced approach to the whole kinky scene, but to me, nothing says "I love you" like showing love and respect to the part of someone's body responsible for holding up their entire bodyweight for most of the day. I don't see it as a kinky or submissive act, to me, it's just love.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Which is probably why I LOVE doing it to Harlequin and I LOVE having him do it to me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">And yes, I had my feet kissed practically right under a Christmas tree. Colour me profane.</span><br /></div>Colombinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05862269247290652222noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-45407754763470098782009-03-13T10:07:00.000-07:002009-03-15T13:21:44.785-07:00d/S<span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Colombina loves having her bottom touched.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">She loves having it stroked, squeezed, spanked, licked, bitten... Whatever it is, if it involves her bottom, she loves it. I love her bottom. It such a wonderful shape and size, and being mean to it makes her moan ever so prettily.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Until I met Colombina, I had never had the desire to spank anyone. But when we met, it developed exceptionally quickly. Now, when we are together, she gets spanked around twice a day. I just bend her over, or throw her onto the bed, and lay into her bottom with my hand, or a book, or our gorgeous flogger, or whatever is to hand.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">It turns a beautiful shade of red.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">But that's not all I like doing to her bottom.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">I also love putting things in it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Fingers, butt plugs, vibrators, beads, my tongue...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">And she seems to enjoy it too. Especially the latter.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Which brings me on to one of the things I love most about sex with my darling Colombina.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">If you watch fetish porn, you get very used to the D/s thing. The Master/slave. The W/we.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">But it's not like that with us.</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Sticking your tongue in someone's bottom is, by those standards, a very submissive thing to do. No self respecting dominant would dream of doing something so Dirty. But when we play, I will go from doing my very best to turn her bottom purple, to sticking my tongue in it, stroking her clit, kissing her feet... Just like that, the roles are reversed, and it is so much fun.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">When we first started talking about sex, we worked out what parts of our psyches wanted what. And it's a lot of fun going from the Dominant One, and being called Sir, to being the greedy little slut, and being called fucktoy.</span>Harlequinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03634071870197909000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7880351258879579843.post-53682508969670606042009-03-11T03:42:00.001-07:002009-03-19T06:47:12.098-07:00We, the undersigned<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">There's an annoying lady in my language class.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">As in, really annoying. She struggles a lot with the language, and that's, you know, perfectly legit. And she sees fit to correct everyone, classmates and teacher, and that's, you know, NOT.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">But sometimes she will be the protagonist of an unexpected humourous moment, and that, I think, more than makes up for the annoying. The teacher was asking which of us had partners from other countries, so that we could explain in what language we spoke. Long after we moved on to another topic, Annoying Lady interrupts to ask if the question was meant in the present, or if past experiences could be shared. Sure, go ahead, the teacher, in her infinite patience, says.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">"Well, I... not at the same time!", she starts.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">The class erupts in peals of laughter in mock-scandal, and I can't help but think that, among all my classmates, she is the less likely of all to be polyamorous. Or a cheater. Too disorganized, see.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I felt compelled to share this anecdote, because this is what this blog is going to be like. A tumbling cascade of the loving and the sexy, of the funny and the ridiculous. Because this is how Harlequin and myself live our story.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Harlequin and Colombina are, obviously, pseudonyms. As liberating as writing this blog might be, I certainly don't want anyone to know that intimate details of my private life are intimate details of </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >my</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"> private life. And I think that the anonymity (</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >thank you, internets!</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">) will be all the more liberating.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">We met through a series of coincidences that goes to show just how strange and wonderful life is (the strangeness and wonder of this life of ours is, I realize, one of the more overused phrases in this relationship), and so far, this has been the biggest, bestest, beautifulest love affair of our entire lives. We are so IN LOVE that we don't bat an eye at the arguably cheesy and/or twee choice of our nicknames. We can afford to be as ridiculous as we want. Why? BECAUSE WE ARE IN LUUUURVE AND WE DON'T CARE HOW LOW WE FALL, THAT'S WHY.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Harlequin is kinky, I am a former chronically insatisfied reborn into an insanely curious budding painslut. We turned each other's tables so much that I got him to question his own kinks, and he got me to explore my own. We have so much sexual chemistry that *sparks* have been known to jump whenever we get together (through a fortunate combination of static and RAWR). I don't mean to gloat, but hell, I was starved off sex for years, YES, THE SEX IS AMAZING, thank you very much.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">So this is what our Midnight Delicacies are going to be like. Some sweet, some spicy, some mysterious, all mouth-watering.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Welcome, and enjoy the ride.</span></span><br /></div>Colombinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05862269247290652222noreply@blogger.com0