Q&A

From reading your blog, I noticed that you and your Master have a pretty no-holds-barred relationship. You don’t seem to have any limits in the “conventional BDSM” sense! No safewords, nothing. (I’m pretty sure I’d die if I were in that situation. lol I admire you!) So – here’s my question.

If you could give your Master hard and/or soft limits, what would they be? I’m sure you and Master have certain things you don’t mess with that are considered limits (My Keeper and I, for instance, by mutual agreement and squickishness, don’t go golden showers or scat play.) but that doesn’t count! I mean like … If my Keeper said he wanted to do electrical play, I’d tell him, very proudly and firmly, to go to hell and that it’s a hard limit and he is NOT allowed. So yeah. What would yours be?

Soft limits- Gimme back the chocolate. Don’t even THINK about denying me American Idol. Let me quit the gym if I want to. Loosen up the purse strings. Lets go bar hopping, get drunk and dance our asses off. YOU clean up the dog poop (if we ever get another dog, that is). Snow shoveling. Urine (Unless Im in the mood.)

And- one cigarette. Just one.

Hard limits- Hammers and nails. Misery sticks. Anal sex. Scat, kids and animals. (We don’t do scat kids or animals but lets cover the bases here, shall we?? ) Public displays of nudity. Taking off his dirty, sweaty socks after work. Licking balls BEFORE a shower. Spit (blech!). Having to kneel on the bathroom floor when he’s going #2. (Srsly! What the hell was that all about, you sick fucker. Sir.)

I’m sure I’ll think of more as the day goes on. This is kinda fun.

And, just for fun – If you were allowed a safeword, would you just use “red” like all the normal folk, or would you have a superspecialawesomesecret safeword?

I have a particular affection for “Stop it, Motherfucker” as a potential safeword. It’s certainly easy to think of in the moment, you know what I mean?

Otherwise, I think I might go with “assualt and battery” or “Bubba’s prison bitch” or “domestic abuse charge”. Something that really has an impact, you know? None of this pansy-ass traffic light kindergarten bullshit. *snicker*

I gots a question too! Actually, lots, but I’ll just post a few and let ya choose. 1. Does using pain to punish a masochist work?

From everything I’m told, it can. In my personal experience, it does not.

Some people say the intent matters, or the lack of warm up and aftercare matters- I say pain is pain and I’ll find a way to get off on it no matter what.

So, depends on the masochist I guess.

(Though that tiny little cynical and jaded part of me says that masochists who claim pain as punishment works are lying through their perverted little teeth and have figured out a way to get some pain, the fucking junkies. But that’s not nice to say, so shhhh.)

2. What does it feel like to have your breasts nailed to a board?

Well. It hurts, of course.

He’s actually nice about it. He won’t go right through the nipple (which is where it would hurt the most, I’d think) because he isn’t willing to risk any sort of nipple damage. And he doesn’t (hasn’t yet?) used those ridiculously large spikes or gone down through any really meaty breast tissue.

Nonetheless, it hurts. It’s still a regular old hardware store nail going through flesh and ending up in a board.

More than the pain though is the mindfuck of it. You’re NAILED to something you know? That’s insane! Who does that??

That’s something that really fucked with my head. Still fucks with my head. Who does that? He does. And without even a hesitation, no worry, no angst. He’s just like, oh hold still and let me pound this nail through your tit. Like he’s making a fucking sandwich or something!

He’s so weird!

3. Where’d all the kitty love pics go??

I guess I got bored with them. Or distracted with baby love. Or I figured all of you were bored with them.

All of the above.

Why? Does that mean you WANT more kitty love??

4. What’s the best way to make a handle for a home made lexan rod? (thought I’d ask cause you’re the queen of crafts and all lol)

Oh jebus. Why would you WANT to? lol. I loathe the lexan cane.

Okay, so, I’m assuming you already have the cane part, yes? I think what I would do is try two things:

One, zip on over to your local wal-mart (or better yet, a sporting goods store) and browse their bicycle hand grips. I bet you could find one that’s pretty cool looking and it’ll already have the handy-dandy hole in the center. Fill said hole with some sort of glue and shove your cane down in there. Let it dry and viola! Lexan cane handle.

Check a hardware or craft store for a small wood stair baluster. It’d (probably) be all fancied up with some carving, you could paint/stain it to your color preference, and if you get the right thickness, you should be able to drill out a center hole deep enough to set the cane in.

Otherwise, I’d take a plain wood post, drill out the center like I mentioned above to glue in the cane, and wrap the post in leather.

Actually, what I’d really do is toss the cane and tell him it simply couldn’t be done. But that’s me.

Assuming you were allowed any one type of chocolate with no restrictions, what would you choose?

Do you dream in chocolate?

Okay, a second question:

Even though I’m drunk posting will you still respect me in the morning?

I respect anyone who, when drunk, gets even more perverted than they are sober. And you, my friend, are a pervert.

Since I’m asking questions about your M,and you both say ask, he on his Fetlife profile, you here…I know from reading you that he got the nickname on his birthday, but exactly how did he become the “sparkling, grand master cupcake”, and what does it mean?

Actually, he didn’t get the nick on his birthday.

Or maybe he did. I can’t remember now. All I remember is some good-natured ribbing between doms where terms like cupcake, sugarbritches, honeydumpling were being thrown around- and cupcake stuck with him.

That might have been his birthday though. No matter anway.

Sparkling, grand master cupcake. At some point just prior to going to a munch, I’d made a journal entry with some obscure reference to the sparkling Twilight-esque vampires in the title and Master being an emotional vampire. That entry had been read by some of the munch goers and during conversation Master Cupcake just kind of morphed into being sparkly and from there…

You know, we really hang out with some weird folks..lol. Cuz this just sounds crazy to try and retell. I love them all dearly, but there is just no predicting the flow of things when with this group. Rly. *nods*

Does your Master pick out your daily clothes? Does He ever pick out anything for you to wear that you absolutely hate and what do do (or would you do) if it was just a really bad fashion choice?

Basically would you tell Him there is no way you would wear something

When we first got together, Master mostly solved that problem by approving, or disapproving, of the clothes I already had and then buying everything else himself. So everything I own has already been “pre-approved” by him and he, nor I, has to worry about the daily process of picking out something pleasing.

He will pick out a particular outfit if we’re going somewhere, especially if it’s somewhere kink-related. Often I’ll have to try on this or that and model it for him so he can decide.

For his birthday last month, he’d given me permission, for the first time, to buy a couple of kink-outfits without letting him see them first. I was extremely nervous about that. I kept trying to beg out of it for fear that he wouldn’t like what I’d buy. He finally had to tell me to stfu and do it, and it all turned out fine anyway, but it’s not something I want to repeat anytime soon. I much prefer that he picks the stuff out, tyvm.

He has picked out things that I don’t like. Sometimes he listens to me, sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes I can convince him that his fashion sense is off, other times, he doesn’t give a shit about fashion. Most of the time, I can change his mind by offering something that looks better but still has whatever attribute that was appealing to him about the first outfit.

He did buy me one skirt one time that is just.. man. It’s not that it’s hideous, it’s just.. well, it’s hideous. LOL.

It’s hideous, unless you are a mexican salsa dancer doing a performance. It’s bright, bold colors (blue and green and pink and white) with ginormous flowers and lace trim- and it’s big and flowy and long and flouncy and-

He bought it for me when he was on a trip in Mexico and he just thinks it’s beautiful. So I wear it here at home and he loves it and I love that he loves it and, truthfully, it makes me feel very feminine and twirly and free..

But I don’t wanna wear it to the store. Nuh-uh. It’s not fashionable AT ALL.

So far, he hasn’t made me. He’s content that I’ll wear it here. Would he make me? Yes. Would I do it? Yes.

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