Tag Archives: public play

“Sexy”

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I have never considered myself to be “sexy.” Ever.

That is not to say that I consider myself unattractive or ugly, or that I don’t think people desire me. I just have never thought of myself as sexy.

This evening was a lovely example of why. For one of my jobs I make my own hours. I found myself in one of my favorite neighborhoods in the city tonight after several hours of work and a parking spot miraculously appeared. Being a fan of signs from the Universe, I decided to take the spot and give myself the rest of the night off.

I was parked across the street from Good Vibrations, one of my favorite stores for toys of the buzz buzz variety, novelty items, informative classes of a variety of topics, and erotica of various topics (they have a fantastic website as well and are super female friendly. Seriously, if you can’t get to the stores check out their website. They tend to throw in free goodies whenever you order… – http://goodvibesblog.com/). The only catch with the store is that you have to be 18+ to enter, understandably considering what they sell.

I was standing in the store perusing the erotica to see if there were any holes in my Alison Tyler collection when one of the employees of the store walked over and just sort of..stared at me. I was in my more saucy outfits (again, not sexy… so saucy is about as close as it gets), a bright blue, low cut leopard print dress with a back cut out. It’s form fitting on top, flairs at the waist, and hits me just above my knee. My ass is covered so long as gusts of wind behave themselves and manage not to blow in an upwardly direction. That happens and..well.. I flash Valencia Street, but otherwise I love the dress. I had my hair back to show off marks on both my chest and neck left behind from James, actually had a dash of makeup on for once, and thought that I looked liked my nearly-24-years.

“Excuse me sweetie, but I’m going to need to see your I.D.”

I had been zoning, mentally reliving some of my favorite spicy moments from old erotica friends when she spoke to me. I think my head actually snapped up in surprise.

“Ok.. may I ask why?”

“Just let me see it please, sweetie.”

I handed it over and watched this poor girl turn scarlet. She couldn’t have been older than nineteen, if that, and was not someone I was familiar with working in the store.

“Oh I’m so sorry miss! I really thought you were closer to my age! You just.. you look seventeen!”

I am a rather compact creature, standing all of 4 ft 10.5 inches. I have been called a people mcnugget, pocket sized, fun sized, nibble sized, and a lot of woman in a little package.. I have curves, an ass that I’m pretty sure has its own orbit..and a baby face with big brown eyes and full lips on top of it all. I am very used to people thinking that I am younger than I am. It’s one of the main reasons I fought my Little side for so damn long. Under 21 I am used to, and I have accepted that I will be carded until I either finally go grey or wrinkles take over my face and my tits sag to my ankles.

But under 18? I haven’t passed for that young in a very long time.

So, why am I rambling on about me being mistaken for a teenager?

I do not consider myself sexy.. However I can do adorable very well. And innocent. And innocently wicked. I can do sexily sweet, easily corruptible, wide-eyed with wonder, and I’ve been told I look rather pretty when I cry.

There is no one-way to be a submissive, or to be attractive as that submissive.

When you dive into the public scene you quickly discover that there is a sort of dungeon uniform for the submissive type; corsets, garter belts, thigh highs, heels… Nipple clamps and cuffs and leashes, oh my! With that uniform comes a certain mental expectation as to how that uniform is going to end up looking on you.

The harsh reality is that the uniform almost never looks how you imagine.

After that harsh reality begins the hard part, figuring out what your dungeon uniform will be.

Dressing up for public play is not about fitting some subby stereotype. It’s about putting on whatever makes you feel like you are the most desirable creature on the planet. What makes you feel like the best you possible, whether you are the 6 ft 5 Amazon or the innocent looking 4 ft 5 little pet.

“Sub-type” is a very big blanket term, as is “bottom”. This includes, but is not limited to, Littles, pets, submissives, slaves, masochists… the list is endless… and what makes a pet who sees themselves as a little lion look their best is going to be different than a slave who sees themselves at their master’s feet whenever humanly possible.

I try really hard to remind myself of this during those ‘you look 17’ moments. I know my strengths. I work my curves, my innocence, and I’m damn good at batting those big brown eyes and pouting those lips. But when you’re involved with someone who makes a living taking photographs of the stereotypical ‘gorgeous’ and ‘sexy’ women it’s hard to remember your strengths. There are times when I wish with everything in me I weighed about half of what I did and was about half a foot taller, where I could scamper around and pose in a way that people would consider me ‘beautiful’ as well and look twice at me.

But most of the time I remember that I have my own unique ways of making the lovers in my life look twice. My ‘uniform’ fits me, and while I may not be the definition of ‘sexy’ you would see if you looked it up in the dictionary, I feel my best walking around the dungeon in my corset and frilly panties. I’m slowly reaching the point where I feel confident walking around the dungeon in nothing at all, especially after a scene. I know where I fit. I know I belong in that space and that the people that want me there want me as I am.

That’s about a sexy as it gets in my book.

Yours fun sized đŸ˜›

-Rena

Are You In or Out?

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It’s a loaded question in BDSM, with different consequences for different people one way or the other. When it comes to the community or the scene (note: I said “the” not “a”. “A scene” is very different) are you in or out?

I feel like I straddle the line a bit, between vanilla and otherwise in public. My social life these days is mostly in the BDSM world. My friends are all involved in something kinky or another, a normal conversation involves the word “dungeon” being said at least five times, and I’ve made a permanent divot in one of the big arm chairs at Wicked Grounds from all the nights curled up in it, be it with a book or with friends.

However I have a job that would probably frown on my extracurricular activities, and while most of my friends here know my interest I can count on one hand the ones from collage and further back that know. I suppose they know something of my submissive tendencies. I’ve had them since I was young (things like cooking and cleaning for others before myself, letting boyfriends pick my clothes, the food we got at restaurants, where we sat in movie theaters, etc). But they don’t know about official titles and have no clue I like to go to dungeons and get flogged in my spare time.

Kane is not in the Scene at all.. And in certain ways that is a huge blessing. The relationship between us is just that; between us. The play is somehow more intimate, and we can talk and chat freely when we aren’t in the middle of a scene. Being with him means that annoying cliquey social climbing that seems to have infested the BDSM world is nowhere in sight. Yes, he’s been a Dom for a good fifteen years. But his name doesn’t flow from people’s lips in the community and no one is vying to be his toy or his lover or his sub and edge me out of my spot. His standards are also slightly different as far as protocol goes. He gets off on service and submission, but he doesn’t care if I’m kneeling the right way or know all the proper positions. He’s not worried about having me kneeling silently at his feet while he talks to another dom in public. He cares that I give myself fully when I am with him… And oh do I.

At the same time I am drawn to the social aspects of BDSM. I like dressing up (or I suppose undressing?) and going to the play parties with my head held high, confident in my appearance and in my belonging to this world whether I choose to play or no. I love that outside play is a choice, that everything is about consent. And sometimes I really love to feel my ass warm and sore from a flogging that pushed me to sobbing.

It’s a need in myself I don’t quite understand yet, as it only flairs occasionally. There are times when I crave being strapped to the cross, people or no, and whipped until my legs turn to jelly and I’m flying. I don’t care about fucking in those moments. Just push me. Show me how far I can go; how much I can take before I think of uttering the word “yellow”. Take me to breaking but don’t push me over. It’s a fine line that I only desire to dance over on occasion.

I very rarely crave pain. I’m a service bottom. I crave tasks. Duties. Chores. Homework. Things I can do to please my Dom. The floggings and the beatings are an itch I need to scratch once a month or so… And it seems those opportunities arise at play parties in public dungeons.

Another aspect I love of being in the scene is the close-knit protective community. Maybe it is because I am a submissive, but I have some fantastic Doms in my life who just… Protect. Socialize. Teach. They don’t want to dominate me specifically. Heck, a handful are gay and I don’t have the proper bits to please then if I wanted to! They just… Surround, in a safe, reassuring way, and have explained so much to me over the last couple of months.

This is probably partly to do with my appearance. I look much younger than I am, with big brown eyes and a heart shaped face. I’m also TINY. The threat to someone of my appearance can be very real… And I am starting to notice that in good Doms the instinct to protect submissives is as natural as breathing. They watch out for newbies in the community and make sure they aren’t harmed as much as they can. Some of them put serious weight in the “under protection” label on fetlife and Godde help you if you cross them.

In or out… It’s a balance for me, I suppose. For others it’s different. For some jobs, children, or spouses prevent them from fully diving in to the community. For others it’s just not their thing. Others crave the buzz of people around them in order to enact a scene to the best of it’s potential. Others still will do nothing but flog outside of the privacy of their own bedroom. The extent of how far you are into this world is up to you.

Thank you, as always, for listening to my thoughts.

-Rena