All posts by Steeled Snake

The Fantasy Quota

“Here you go…” she says, handing me a dice. The 4-sided die rattles around in my hand. I was just sitting here passing the time on one of our favorite shows and she walks in and hands me this.

“What’s up,” I ask. Not knowing if I really want to know. The answer on gaming stuff like this is usually some strange setup that puts me at a, well, disadvantage, to put it lightly.

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Locktober… and Chastity Overall

Looking back at October, and at chastity in general, it’s bizarre to think it’s been something like 6+ years of full-time for Charmer and me. We’ve learned a lot, we’ve had some interesting debates (both with us and from outside folks) and we’ve seen this kinky twitter and blogging space roll back and forth as different things sweep through, chastity being one of them.

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Always More, Eh?

See, one of the things about kink is that it opens up your mind. It opens the thoughts of “if that was great, what about “X”” – it’s an ongoing cycle that drives kink forward and gets you to consider all sorts of things… I mean, what if…

That’s exactly the thing that is happening right now. What if the impact play is, well, played with. What if it’s more, different, etc. Not in a “beat the crap out of me” standpoint, I’m not really interested, and she’s not really interested in dealing out, the art of being a butt-fillet. But…

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Moonlight Picnic

As you pull in from a long day out working and just flat-out getting stuff done, you slowly walk to the door and fumble around with the key. I open it from the inside for you and hold my hand out – helping you across the threshold. “Well, hello, stranger… ” you say as you step in.

Just inside the door I have a blanket, folded up and on top of a big picnic basket.

“What’s this,” you ask, “are we going somewhere?”

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It’s Just a Little Handprint

This was to be a DD play night. But something is up. Something is whirling around in that head of hers that says it won’t “just” be a DD kind of night, but rather something else that is poking around.

“Remember when we were kids and made handprints in the sand,” she asks. “Yes, yes I do… but that’s sort of random, don’t you think?”

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100 Edges, 12ish hours.

Charmer likes to push boundaries, heck, we both do. I think little nudges in new directions tend to add up to big nudges that introduce new ideas, new things to think about, new experiences.

We’ve added Boot Camp weekends to the mix of late – we do them when it strikes Charmer’s fancy, no real schedule- but it has lately been running Friday-Monday on choice weekends.

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Whispers in the Dark

We’re laying there, just listening to the dark around us. I can hear the rain on the roof (a rarity and amazing) and the winds howling outside off and on. I also hear far-distant thunder. It’s that rolling kind that’s just fun to listen to, not violent, not jolting, just almost like a drummer with a massive kettle drum of some sort playing a random tune.

I hear you whisper to me…

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F… Fine, be late. Not.

You’re in the front room, singing. It’s that Foreigner song – I hear you, just perfectly on tune. “I’ve been waiting… for a boy like you…” you’re singing. I call across the house and correct you – “it’s ‘waiting for a girl like you…” I tell you. “You’re not REALLY correcting me, are you?” you say back.

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E-Stim… Electricity, and Me.

We’ve played a bit with e-stim before. I got frustrated at the lack of control a bit, and not being able to get to “too much!” in the use of it. I always tend to seek out that line – the too-much-line – so you know what the full range is that you have to explore.

SO, I went on a hunt. Find a different machine, different approach, and try, try again.

And I did. We did. And we found that line…

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Improvement (not as in home-improvement)

Improvement is a tough one. It’s hard to talk about improving something with this thing we do, without making it all mechanical and such. At least, for me that’s the case.

At the same time, it can be really effective over time – you may look back in the future at how, why or when you did “this or that” and realize just how much things have changed. Here’s a quick look at how I try to keep this all swimming around my head.

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I is for I Guessed Wrong (Part 8)

This is part 8 in an ongoing story, a segment by Charmer, a segment by Snake…

Part 1 (Hers)Part 2 (His)Part 3 (Hers)Part 4 (His)Part 5 (Hers)Part 6 (His), Part 7 (Hers)

He was in trouble, and he knew it. He hadn’t paid attention early on when she was talking about dinner places. Or, at least he assumed he hadn’t paid attention. He sure didn’t remember anything at all about it, that’s for sure. Gabe couldn’t for the life of him remember the conversation with any specifics. All he COULD remember were those legs, and the mental buttons she was busy pushing in his head.

He’d guessed at the Italian place since they so often loved going out for good Italian food.

He’d guessed wrong, clearly.

Even more to the point, he felt like a big buffoon for letting her down. He really wanted to have this whole weekend thing go really smoothly and was reveling in how she approached things, her attitude, her strength. He really didn’t want to blow it right out of the gate.

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