Being a Switch Is Awesome, Part Two: Fire Tickles and Old-Timey Guy

As I was finishing up with The Puncher’s Girl, the Fireman’s Girl (Who, it should be said, is less a girl than a grown-ass woman a more than a decade older than me and light-years hotter. We should all be so lucky!) came over to tell me that it was my turn for fireplay. I went over to the area where the massage tables were set up, handed a nice guy my wings and halo (left on the pretty shoes) and was told to lay down on my belly. Another fire-helper showed me a case full of paintbrushes as the fire Dom asked if I was ticklish.

“Um…a little bit,” I said a warily, but decided to let it happen.

It felt good to be back under the flames, warm hands running over my back and legs. There was none of the romance and Daddy-ness of my Fireguy; this was more like a really excellent massage. With gentle hands on me and the comfort of knowing people were watching, I very nearly fell asleep.

Then he told me to turn over and I got to watch the fire. He dabbed the rubbing alcohol along my legs and belly and then lit the brief flames. There was sometimes a quick burny sting, but mostly just all the warmth. He found a ticklish spot on the right side of my waist (Hey! I even sort of HAVE a waist these days!)  and made the most of it. I held back the laughs at first but he goaded and encouraged me until big shrieky guffaws came out. The Fireman’s Girl was watching from another table and smiled with me every time I got the giggles. So did the spectators watching behind my head. This was a particularly smiley dungeon night.

After I thanked the Fire Tickler for his care, I felt all relaxed and sleepy but also reallyreally ready to get spanked. I asked Cute Master, but he was utterly uninterested—I guess that’s just the end of that. Super frowny face, but also, next!

Old –Timey Guy was all tired out from a day at the Renaissance Fair so I didn’t think he’d do it, but when I mentioned what I needed to Punk Rock Girl, she asked him and he said of course. This is why they’re the awesomest. I may have graduated from having them as protectors, but they still take such good care of me.

He tied my wrists together with my pretty-but-not-super-effectual satin cuffs, and I knelt down on the bench where I’d just spanked TPG. Old-Timey Guy said to leave on my wings and halo, they wouldn’t get in the way. A spectator who’d been avidly watching my girl-spankings raised his eyebrows, smiled big, and said “OH, now it’s YOUR turn.”

Hence the title of these posts. The endorphins of topping and fireplay, combined with the above-mentioned awesomeness of my Dom-of-the-moment made this session utterly, triumphantly delicious. He started with his hands, spanking and eliciting moans of happiness and relief right away. It felt so good that I was making sex-noises, groaning and sobbing and wiggling my ass for more.

Once he’s warmed me up with spanks, he moved on to my favorite strap: sure, thuddy whaps interspersed with little stings. He pulled me close to his front to hold me still and I lost myself in the sensation, intimate and animal, pressed against his junk and wriggling to get closer still. I truly felt like I was going to come—some day before long, it’s gonna happen like that, and it might make a MESS. That’s how much I felt his impact, all the way in somehow.

By the time I moved up to the flogger, I was pulsating with joy, getting ready to float right up off the earth. When he was finished, I told him he’s a nicenice man and asked for a few extra hugs.

I told him I think he’s one of my most successful playpal situations. At no point have I ever felt a bit of fuss or about him, and every single time he hits the spot better and better. I really appreciate the place he has in my life. (Mostly, behind me.)

Next: How to get more snuggles: beat up a boy.

Being a Switch is Awesome Part One: Being an Excellent Spanky Winggirl

I had a very hard week last week—my job is seeming impossible at times and my body spent the whole work week fighting the urge to run away, leading to depressed exhaustion. I’m going to try and advocate for some changes, but over the weekend the only way to make it better was to spend time feeling competent, safe, and happy. So off to the dungeon I went.

I’m not usually one for costumes, but while I was out running some sex-toy errands I saw the above angel wings and satin cuffs and got inspired. I didn’t have any good-girl white underpants though, so I just went with my lucky ones. Actually, I think all of the underpants are my lucky ones lately.

It was Winggirl One’s birthday and she’d asked me if I knew any Doms I could introduce her to. I didn’t, but it occurred to me that if I invited my Asker-Outer guy from last week, I could test out his spanking skills and then pass him on to her if he did well. He had other plans but liked the idea of me coaching him into the local kink scene. Of course I’m almost as new at it, but I know what I like and I think I can show him—I got a warm feeling in my belly from that plan and assured Winggirl One that she would at least get spanks from me.

Anyway, so when I got there, I was happy/sad to see Cute Master and Pretty Slave at the bar. Even though I know it was the right thing to break things off with them, I felt terrible about not having that connection. She buried her face in my glitter-covered cleavage and I just wished I could whisk them away. She’s so pretty, you guys, I can hardly stand it.

Apparently, she felt the same, since she said: “You’re too pretty, go home.”

“You’re too pretty too! Let’s all go home.”

And we all wished we could but agreed that I oughtn’t fall for them. Supersigh.

The Fireman’s Girl (you may remember her draped pinup-style across the Huge Handed Fireman at that Labor Day party I loved so much…) was there too, and was, somewhat appropriately, waiting in line for fireplay. She convinced me to join the line, too. I’d run across a street fair with fire-juggling earlier in the day (as one does) and had been hankering to be set lovingly on fire. There were four fireguys working that night, none of them the Fireguy from this story. I love that the Fireman’s Girl was egging me on so encouragingly, what a good influence!

Winggirl One came over to watch and wait with me. A cute guy was watching next to her so she said hello, and I saw my chance to instigate some fun. “It’s her birthday!” I said helpfully, and from there they took it right to spanking. It was agreed that I would warm her ass up and then he would take it from there. Huzzah! Winggirl mischief managed. I asked one of the fireguys if I could be next and when his response was (ha) lukewarm, I decided I was bored of waiting.

Winggirl One’s new friend and I led her over to a kneeling bench and had her strip down to her (my) Hello Kitty nipple tape and sheer teal panties. I promised to remember this time that she doesn’t like wedgies the way I do. The DJ was having such a good ear for spanking rhythms, and after I asked her to give me a hand signal if it got too stingy, I got right into the rhythm of it.

Everyone should have the experience of spanking somebody while wearing lingerie, pretty shoes, angel wings, and a halo. I’ve never felt hotter. The more I got into the beat, the bigger my grin got. Joy was just shining up through me like a beam of sparkling light. It was a charge not just of power, but of I-can-do-this. I loved that my friend was smiling big and everyone who was watching was smiling too. I figured she was warmed up and handed her over to the guy, high-fiving him with my not-sore-yet left hand.

But I wasn’t done. The Puncher’s Girl had told me she’d take all the aggression I had, so I aimed to sneak up behind her, grab her by the hair, and pull her over to another free kneeling bench. She caught me, though, and I led her over in a more civil manner. She told me to hit her as hard ad I could and wiggled her ass with joy.

She looked beautiful, everybody. She was in a blue lace leotard and had matching bright blue eyeshadow. Her long, dark, wavy hair was streaming over the bench like a princess. When I wasn’t yanking on it, I was smoothing and arranging it to look even more princessy.

“You look so pretty and you’re being so good. You’re such a very nice young lady.”

She smiled and cooed and wiggled some more and I pressed her against my front to hold her still. I hit her harder and harder until my hand started to hurt and she offered to go get me a paddle.

“Are you sure? I’ve never used one before. Will you tell me if I mess up?”

She assured me that she would and went to their toy bag to get a smallish paddle.

“It’s just like a hand, but wood,” she said.

I tested it a little and found a good spot.

“Right there,” she said “If you have any rage you want to get out, that’s the place to do it.”

It’s hard to be mean to someone so sweet but I went ahead and let it out, let myself lose control a little bit, even if I couldn’t help checking every so often if she was okay. I love hitting her. She feels so lovely underneath me, my right hand pressing down on her back between her perfect shoulder blades, my left hand wielding the paddle. Sweat dripped down. I felt like a goddess. I pulled her up, hugged her and thanked her. She said that if I wanted to, I could use her ass to learn all the tools.

Next: Fire tickles!