Amuse-bouche

amuse-bouche (uh-MYUZ-boosh) noun

Similar to but not to be confused with hors d’oeuvre. This is a tidbit, often tiny, served as a free extra to keep you happy while you are waiting for your first course to come. It gives you an idea of the chef’s approach to cooking and the restaurant’s attention to your appetite.

[From French, literally, “mouth amuser”, from amuser (to amuse) + bouche (mouth). It’s more informal twin, amuse-gueule, is the same thing, but may be considered vulgar in some circles. Gueule is the French term for an animal’s mouth, bouche for a human’s.]

Sex and play comes in many forms for us. There are times when we tenderly make love and we form a peaceful and spiritual connection that transcends. There are other times when sex is a fun-filled boisterous romp and we play and laugh and tickle and squeal. We have primal times when we’re licking and biting and tearing into each other like wild beasts and I’m flipped and tossed and practically torn to pieces. There are times when it’s all about his pleasure and he just bends me over and has his way with me. There are other times when it’s all about my pleasure and he makes me cum over and over and over. All of these amazing times are fairly spontaneous or one morphs into another. Time, energy, mood, and homelife all contribute to how and when so we’re forced to be flexible.

And then there is the planned scene. These are unique times for us because we find we don’t always have the opportunity to do that we want to do to the extent we want to do it. These times, especially due to our schedules and homelife, take planning. Our scenes are very physical and when Coach’s sadistic side has lined up with my masochistic side we are loud and we don’t want to feel like the clock is ticking away and we have to hurry things up. It’s been hard to plan the last few months so what I’ve been getting instead is an assortment of amuse-bouche. I get a taste of the Chef’s creativity and desire. My mouth is amused and I want more, so much more, but we never get to the full meal.

Look What’s Happening Between Our Sheets – I Made The List!

image312

Rori at Between My Sheets puts together a list each year of the Top 100 Sex Bloggers and this year I was chosen! I almost spit my coffee out when I received Rori’s email. This honor was totally unexpected and came as a complete surprise. I am humbled, to say the least. Thank you so very much, Rori, for including me with such a wonderful group of bloggers. Such amazing company to be in! [Note – as of this writing Rori’s blog is inexplicably down]

***Good News! I checked today, 1/3/15, and Rori’s site it back up!***

So what will 2015 bring? Hopefully more adventures and surprises. I’ve been adjusting my focus over here to shine more light on healthy submission – physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually and Coach has stated that he would like to bring more to the table along the same lines for Dominants. There will still be plenty of kinky fuckery and lots more fun. We want 2015 to be a year of self-improvement, discovery, and pushed limits. We learned some major lessons in 2014 because we endeavored to get out of our comfort zones. Some lessons were learned by having great success and some lessons were learned by crashing and burning. That’s what life is all about. You try things and see what you’re made of. Personally, I learned that I am not afraid to test the waters to find out what I really believe at my core and to find out where my weakness are so I can strengthen them, to prove my strength and get stronger. If you do not have any failures you have not been living. I choose to live with passion.

That being said I feel like I’ve only just begun and that’s a wonderful feeling. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog; it is so very much appreciated.

XOXO

~Elle

So Good. So Rare.

“I’m coming home at noon. I have a big break during the day and I don’t have to be back at work until five.”

“Really? What are we going to do with all that time?”

Long pause

“Just be ready.”

“Hey, kids, Daddy has a big break this afternoon and he and I have some work to do. He’s going to eat lunch as soon as he gets in the door and then he and I are going to go up into our room and work. We do not want to be disturbed. You guys can watch any movie you want.”

An hour later

“How’s my girl?”

Long, deep, passionate kiss

“I’m good, Sir. I’m so excited you’re here right now.”

“Let’s see how excited you are. Take your clothes off and kneel on the bed.”

“Good girl. Now get on all fours. I want to inspect you.”

Pinch. Smack, smack, smack, smack. Pinch, pinch, pinch, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, bite, bite, bite, smack, smack, really hard bite.

“Scoot back to the edge, ass in the air, and rest your face on the bed. You’re not allowed to move.”

Mmmmmm

“That’s a beautiful site and it’s all mine.”

Yes, all yours, always

 

My Truth ~ Part Two: My Sexual Awakening

Part One

I grew up in an Italian Catholic middle class house in the greater NYC area. My family was different than a lot of other Italian households, or so it seemed to me at the time. My father was the spitting image of the actor, Victor Mature, except dad was taller and broader and in the summer much darker. My mother, in her youth, looked very similar to Grace Kelly. My mother had done some runway modeling in NYC and my father had spent years playing minor league baseball, only to suffer a career-ending injury to his pitching arm during spring training after he had just been called up to the majors. I will always be a Yankee fan!

My father was somewhat of a hero to all who knew him. Aside from being tall, dark, and handsome, he was extremely talented. He was athletic and excelled at any sport he played, but baseball was obviously his passion. He could also sing opera and even performed while in college. He was extremely intelligent and was a product of a prestigious New York private school from Kindergarten through high school. He was funny and witty and made everyone around him laugh. He was well-mannered, gracious, and always a gentleman. He was larger than life. I could write volumes about my father and maybe one day I’ll write a book, but I’m here to write about my sexual awakening.

My father was what they used to refer to as a “ladies man.” Women really did throw themselves at him and I even witnessed it growing up. I have no idea if my father ever cheated on my mother. She adamantly denies that he ever faltered, but I have my suspicions. My mom seemed to go crazy right about when I was 10 or 11 and to my knowledge no cause was ever seriously given. At one point it was thrown around that she was hypoglycemic and that explained why she used to throw herself down the stairs in front of us young children and then supposedly pass out. It was during those episodes that my mother mysteriously spent two weeks in the hospital without visitors being allowed. Hypoglycemia my ass! My mother needed some psychiatric care. My father fell over backwards for my mother during that time. As an adult I recognize the actions of my father as someone filled with guilt and shame. Still, it’s just a theory. Some of the rumors about my dad before he was married to my mom were that he had an affair with the famous burlesque star, Blaze Starr, and that he even tried to pick up Jake LaMotta’s wife, Vikki, at a club. I know for a fact that my grandmother was arranging a marriage between my dad and the heiress to a well-known vineyard. It was right about that time my father met my mother. My mother tells me that my grandmother tried to buy her off so she wouldn’t marry my dad. Nice, grandma!

My great uncle owned a “candy store” just outside the Bronx. He sold candy, magazines, newspapers, and tobacco products. A lot of suspicious activity went on in that store (can you say running numbers or Italian lottery?), but one thing that came from that store directly into my house was a voluminous amount of porn magazines. I can’t tell you specifically which ones because the banners were always torn off. Nonetheless, there were stacks of them in the back of my father’s walk-in closet. I’m sure my brothers all found their way to those stacks, but I did as well. Later on we all generously helped ourselves to the cases of liquor my dad received as Christmas presents from law firms, but that was during the drug and alcohol years. I was a curious 8 year old who had recently heard as a 7 year old everything about reproductive systems and sex in front of many listening ears at the beach that summer from my overly zealous nurse mother. Nice, mom!

At 7/8 years old I could read and comprehend as well as an 8th grader so not only did I look at all the dirty pictures, but I read the stories as well and filled my head with all kinds of imagery. Emotionally I was, of course, a 7/8 year old so the motivations behind those stories in those magazines were confusing. However, I was fascinated and couldn’t get enough. I became addicted to porn at 8 years old. Nice, Elle!

I had my first orgasm at about the age of 9 and I wanted to try to have one for close to a year. I had a routine late Saturday afternoons if there wasn’t a game to go to or a project or chore that needed to be taken care of. My grandmother (the same one I wrote about) had an apartment on the lower level of our house and was the built-in babysitter. Many times on a late Saturday afternoon it would be she and I that were home. Grandma stayed in her apartment to watch TV and all she knew was that I was up in my room reading or coloring. What grandma did not know, and neither did anyone else, was that when I had that private time I would go and get some magazines from my father’s closet (always hoping for new ones), lock my bedroom door, sit on the floor right next to the door so I could hear if anyone was approaching, and devour what was in front of me. I wanted to look like these women and I wanted to feel something wonderful. I remember an erotic story about a woman who was teased with a rabbit’s foot. Well wouldn’t you know it, I had a rabbit muff!

muff

Remember these?

I ran to my closet and took out my muff. I imagined I was getting teased like the woman in the story. I ran the muff all over myself and then settled it between my legs, started rubbing, and had my first orgasm. I masturbated for the first time. I was even more hooked after that and spent as many waking hours as I could with my muff and porn.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot: How BDSM Made Me More Mindful

I saw this article this morning and it’s had me thinking all day. The author really nails it for me about what if feels like to give up control. Like the author, I have a mind that doesn’t stop and I’ve tried meditation over the years, but it never worked. This life is the only thing that has EVER gotten me to stop and focus completely and totally in the moment. I don’t have my to do list running in the back of my head and I don’t think about what I look like or who I am. I am connected to him and his touch and his words and his control. I am completely and totally in the moment and I am his.

Hit Me with Your Best Shot: 3 Ways BDSM Made Me More Mindful. {Adult}

hot bondage girl

My first introduction to kink happened at a goth bar and involved a guy with a Pauly D haircut, a custom made wooden paddle and my ass.

I wasn’t expecting the encounter when I put on a black dress and joined my co-worker for a night of drinks and Depeche Mode, but the initial stings sparked new sensations that alerted me to ways of feeling I never thought possible.

Pauly-D-Hair had gone to a fetish ball the night before; while there, he spanked all the (consenting) women who walked by with his brand new toy. I am a curious cat and I wanted to know more about the fetish ball—what was it, who was there, what happened at one. He answered my questions, but kept returning to the paddle, he just wouldn’t shut up about how amazing it was and how everyone who felt it loved it, etc. Finally, I made him retrieve it so I could discover what all the fuss was about.

In the middle of the crowded club, he bent me over his knee and lifted up my dress exposing my lacy underwear to the world. The object was like a giant wooden spoon and when it came down across my ass, a mega-rush of energy and excitement surged through my body. Was it the exhibitionism of it? Was it the literal pain? Was it the psychology of doing something outside of the small box of acceptable sexual behavior? Perhaps it was a little bit of all three. It wasn’t glittery glamour sexy, it was the deep recesses of a dark cold dungeon sexy. And I realized that’s where I wanted to be.

We set up a scene.

And then another.

I’ve always been a rather high-strung person; I’ve had plenty of friends tell me how much I would benefit from meditation, but I was always like, “whatever, I’m fine.” I’ve been lightly experimenting with different avenues of BDSM for almost a year now and through this journey I have discovered that it has brought me much closer to mindfulness and a sense of calm being—a place I would not have gone without experimenting with my masochistic side.

Three Ways BDSM Made Me More Mindful

1. Practiced Stillness

“Cuffs or rope?” he asked me. It was my first time in a “scene.”

“Rope,” I said, wanting him to work for it.

I didn’t want the restraint of me to be easy.

But then, there I was, naked, wrists over my head, tied to a metal hook in the ceiling.

I’ve always been the leader of a group. I’ve bossed my past boyfriends around easily without even blinking. I’ve persistently complained about any injustice I see come my way. I’ve stood up for the weirdos and the outcasts. I’ve studied and studied the patriarchal system, misogyny, power dynamics;  yet, nothing has felt better than for a moment in time being able to let that all go. To be still. To allow someone else complete control and just be. No decisions, no defending, no debate.

It took me being tied up, unable to move, to realize the value in stillness. I realized it was time to stop running from my problems and get tough—take a couple of hits and power through. If I can take a beating in the bedroom, I can take on any sort of challenges that come my way outside it—and perhaps even enjoy overcoming them.

bdsm scrabble

2. Present in the PleasurePain

“Peace of mind is not the absence of conflict from life but the ability to cope with it.” ~ Unknown

The practice of BDSM requires absolute trust in the partner at play.

When he released his hands from my throat he asked me why I liked what he did.

“It’s because you’re paying attention,” I said.

bdsm rope work

The art of domination and submission takes concentration, complete communication and knowledge of how the body functions and speaks. When I am spanked or choked or slapped, I become present with the sensation. I am nowhere else but where I am. The hits awaken my sense of being; I’m not thinking about my past or future, I am letting the body flow, savoring the moment of intensity between my partner and I.

3. Escape to Sub Space

I have a few friends who are mega into meditating; they spend hours at a time doing it. I know that a major element of meditating is learning how to clear the mind. For those who may not be into meditating or want to attempt to get to that clearness another way, entering what’s known as sub space in a scene is a good way to do such clearing. Sub space is often characterized as a state of deep recession, a way for submissives to separate themselves from their environment in order to process the experience.

stilness

The intensity of a BDSM scene, the restraints, the infliction of pain, causes the body to release enough chemicals—epinephrine from the suprarenal glands, as well as a big dose of endorphins and enkephalins—that the body turns into a near trance-like state. This feels like floating, perhaps one could compare it to being slightly high, you’re there but everything surrounding is faded and nothing really matters anymore.

The body is much stronger than we often give it credit. As a submissive, I am curious to see how far I can push it, how much I can take; at what point does pleasure from pain turn into just pain, and how will I react? How will my dom? When I go into subspace and come back, how will I have changed?

The difference between meditators and masochists is the avenue in which stress is relieved, but the outcome can be quite similar: relaxation, slower heart rate, lower blood pressure and lowered stress hormones.

After a scene I feel calmer; in days that follow I actually feel more in charge of my body and my mind than before. I don’t find weakness in my submission in the bedroom, I find pleasure and presence and peace.

Don’t Let Age Get In The Way

You really can do this for the rest of your life. You just need to make some lifestyle adjustments.

Be On Time!

This is why I believe in schedules. I absolutely must know what I’m doing every hour on the hour!