missrenie: (Default)

I was recently asked the following question:  "How has kink helped you in your day to day life?"  It's a question I get asked often by people who know me and some who don't.  Although its most often phrased as: "Why the hell would you do that?" and quickly followed with the  business card of some really highly recommended physiologist being pressed urgently into my hand.


The answer is  involved and goes beyond the obvious of getting to play dress up in latex and leather and killer shoes...although that is a decidedly hot bonus.


Kink made an appearance at a very fucked up time in my life. I was just ending a long term relationship that was draining to all parties involved and I had gone from being sexually dead to freakishly alive. I was running wild and doing alot of unsafe things. Kink forced me to stop, listen to my body, get in touch with my body and made me realize that I was searching for very specifiic things:

~validation of my beauty,worth and goodness

~absolution from guilt through punishment

~awareness of my own body

~love and intimacy


I found all these things in kink along with some other stuff


Being able to withstand focus through extremely painful stimulation has taught me the power of my own mind. My body is screaming stop but my mind is very clearly screaming back "Take another, you can not be broken, will not be broken." Suddenly the aggravations of the mundane day to day became speedbumps instead of huge mountains.


The ability to turn pain to pleasure reminds me that the things in life that are hard to deal with have a lesson that goes with them bear any beating life dishes out will make me stronger in the end.


I am a huge control freak... life has turned me into that. With kink I am forced to believe that my partner will protect me, listen to me, push me past my comfort level but not past my sanity. Its softened me enough to let the right one in while hardening me enough to tell the wrong one to go directly to hell.


Being submissive has also shown me that I AM IN CONTROL. It is the submissive that says when the scene is or isn't over for the most part. It is the submissive that the Dominate is trying to please. It is the submissive that notices, listens, learns, gets under the skin.


My submission has shown me my worth and it is the accumulation of everything I am... everything that has brought me to this point in my life. I'm not just a girl bowing down to some Top. I am an intelligent, self possessed, self sufficient woman of color, an entrepreneur, artist and ego maniacal magnificent misfit. And if the Dom can't appreciate all that then he/she doesn't get to play.


As a Domme I learned how to give creative loving and intimate service to another person. I learned to listen for the unspoken words, to read sounds, faces, bodies and minds. How to be soft and tender and thoughtful and how important is it to give positive reinforcement to people. How much power I can have over another and how much I should respect that power and the person who gave it to me.


The ability to give and receive power in close union with another person as either a submissive or a Domme taught me confidence.  When some trusts you with their physical, emotional and mental safety it is a big responsibility.  If you can handle that you start to figure that you can handle alot of other things.  When you trust someone with your physical, emotional and mental safety you can't allow yourself to get stuck in what you look like as you go about your multitude of demanded tasks.  You have to focus on getting the job done and withstanding  to the best of your ability... not omg I look so fat and ugly right now. 


Kink taught me just how damn pretty I am...if you've ever been privileged to see the face of submission you would  how beautiful it is.  It is a beauty composed of love, trust and mutual respect and it is gorgeous regardless of age, weight, features, and blah blah blah.  It is deeper than the skin and beyond the bone.


I learned BOUNDARIES. I learned how to say no to myself and others when it is something that is not right for me.


The person that I am today was not here two years ago. My relationship broke me and kink was a big part of what rebuilt me. In a crazy fucked up way it was my salvation. It held up a mirror for me to see myself and reshape myself in the image that I chose. 


I didn't do it alone... I couldn't do it alone.  I had an amazing loving partner walk me through the rabbit hole.

That was two years ago but it feels like a life time. 

Two years ago I entered a dungeon for the first time

Two years ago I was bound to a mahogany cross of cool polished wood  and  painfully, pleasurably initiated into the surprisingly not so mysterious not so dark world of bondage discipline sadism and masochism


I died on that cross

and he brought me back to life

and for that

and for the woman he encourage me to be

I am eternally thankful and grateful.


missrenie: (Default)

Me:: omgeeeee I just got the cutest message from Daddy:

“I'm going through my naughty list. OMG You need more punishment than there could possibly be time for tonight. Consider tonight to be part 1 of a ongoing punishment session. Remember to bring your toys including your blindfold.
Are you worried? Yes, you should be.

Pink: LOL

Me:: I am gonna get it tonight for sure...  I replied

“Why Daddy,
i have no idea what You are talking about... i'm the picture of perfection i suggest we review this "list" together in great detail. You are somewhat older than me…maybe You should bring Your glasses with You tonight.
~~~Your totally young lady”

Pink: you know that button that says "don't push"?

Me:: yeah

Pink: you're the type that not only pushes it, you slam your hand on it 15 times yelling "IS THIS THING ON??!!" - meanwhile, 15 nukes have launched and LA is a crater
Whatever beating you're going to get tonight - you deserve after the vision comment


missrenie: (Default)

Me::      bad bad Renie

flirting with coworkers

I should be spanked


Pink:      don't tell me - tell Mister


Me::      haha you're right

that WILL get me a spanking!!!


Pink:      see, now aren't you glad I've never met him?

I would tattle...all. the. time.


Me:        omgeeeeeee can you?!


Pink:      *snort*

missrenie: (Default)

I didn't use to care.

I never cared.

I mean as long as it fit and I could get from point A to point B comfortably it was all gravy on mama's Sunday best biscuits as far as I was concerned.

But then somewhere around eight or nine months ago He said to me. "I like heels. I think they are hot" and something switched.

Haha switch anyways...

I found my first pair courtesy of Auntie Shadow at Leather Masters. She went through the styles, pros and cons with the confident finesse of a sultry sage I was still very new to all of this... so new what my bottom was still smarting from my fifth ever flogging and consequently complained loudly as I sat down to try on a pair of six inch patent leather platform stilettos with steel grommets accenting the ankle straps.

I stood up... and kept standing. I was pretty sure my nose was going to bleed from the height. And even though I teetered and tottered I dared not take a step. One miscalculation and knew I was headed straight into the boxes and out through the glass. I was already light headed and tumescent from the delicious smell of all that leather.

Auntie Shadow put a steadying hand on my arm and smiled warmly as she asked how I felt in them. When I told her I wasn't sure but they looked nice and fit well she nodded with compassionate understanding and told me to stay for a bit and walk around for a while before I considered purchasing them.

"These are going to take some getting used too." I said gripping her shoulder for a moment.

"Most things that are worth it do"

"I have to get used to them today. Edges is having a prom and..."

"Oh yes I know. " She said with another one of those disarmingly charismatic smiles. “... what are you wearing?"

"I have no idea... I had not thought past the shoes!"

I felt like some kind of twisted Cinderella as I tried on a few things she tossed my way while she told me about the kinky community. In that half an hour I learned alot from listening quietly even though my feet were screaming... she imparted knowledge without even knowing she was doing it. She left a few times to check out costumers and make sure her patrons were comfortable.

I remember three women and one man walking in together. The purchases consisted of two collars a set of metal nipple clamps that looked absolutely vicious. When they left Auntie Shadow noticed me staring after them.

"What is it?"

"They look so normal"

"So do you"

I laughed so hard I nearly fell over.
It was a vast relief to know that the lady knitting a scarf for her grandchild could just as easily scratch those needles up and down my spine, that the guy who fixed my car last week might actually be up for bending my over his knee and spanking me... all of a sudden I didn't feel alone.

In the end I purchased the shoes and my own pair of slightly less vicious nipple clamps along with a few odds and ends that I can not even begin to recount now. As soon as I got home I took the shoes out of the box and stared at them. My toes were recoiling at the thought of being in them again. But my heart was beating with joy at the thought of Daddy's pleasure when he would catch sight of me in them for the first time.

And He was pleased :) even though I was miserable at walking for more than five minutes in them.

When I got home I put the shoes on my kink altar. It didn't seem right to stuff them in a box again... besides I was pissed at them... or rather pissed that my body was neither strong nor graceful enough to handle them.


So I did what any girl in her right mind would do in my situation...

I took to doing housework in them to the shock of my roommate her boyfriend and sometimes visitors. I cooked in them, dusted in them, mopped in them(not a good idea). I even went to payless and bought 3 inch normal heels to get myself into shoe shape. I thew out all my non heels save a pair of sneakers and committed myself to conquering those damn stilettos.

I even had conversations with them. I wanted them to know that they were gonna be my bitch someday soon. That my will was stronger than a few aches and pains and pvc. That I was not meant to merely step in these sons of beyotches... noooo I was gonna strut in them.

It was all very "when Tom Hanks met Wilson the Soccerball"

It was kind of Invictus all steeming from that special hell.

You know the one where they send child molesters and people who talk in the theater.

But I did it. after I got over the pain after I built the right muscles in the right places after I learned balance I did it.

Today around 1:30pm I caught myself fawning over another pair I spotted online... another pair I want to break in and own. Another pair that would please Daddy ever so much. I realized in that moment that for the past couple of months I have been doing that. Getting distracted by shoes… all sorts. That when I think of them my head tilts to the side and I clench on the inside a little.

Its not about the sexy

well okay that's a lie. They make my legs look a mile long, lift my ass, accentuate the swish and pretty up the profile but it’s also about conquering something

conquering myself

and that in the end

is really what gets my pussy purring~~~~~~

missrenie: (Default)

Friday night at 8:05pm 

I’m standing on a darkened street. 
my eyes are rimmed with khol, my lips shiny with blood wine colored gloss,
my dreds are pulled into two low buns at the back of my head.
I am dressed in a red and black striped corset,
short black skirt with a slit up the back,
and appropriately uncomfortable shiny black patent leather 6 inch fuck me stilettos whose steel grommets accents wrap scandalously up my ankle…

And I am trying to convince one of San Jose’s finest that I am not a whore.


We are way past the do you know why I pulled you over, where are you coming from, where are you going song and dance.  It is flawless until we get to the registration part.

See I brought my car a while ago and didn’t register it until that Tuesday.  I have the paper work proving that it is registered in my binder… that is on my futon… at home along with my proof of insurance.

So now I am trying to prove that I am not a whore and the car is mine.  Frantically searching for my cell phone in my purse so I can ask Marlene to bring me the papers, pulling out things like a leather collar and nipple clamps while telling him my entire life story or at least the part about buying the car, the breaking up of my relationship, moving to a new place, working seven days a week and the reason why the car was not registered sooner.

The officer informs me of all the fines and penalties that I am facing

I get  angry…

I admit I behave badly.  I am really looking forward to play time with Mister…. seriously I am  going through withdrawl for a while.  And the thought of having my car taken away, fined 1,300 dollars for not having my proof of insurance on top of the possibility of not being able to see Mister was more than I could handle.

I get emotional.

Maybe it’s the massive amounts of cleavage
Maybe it’s that I’m about to cry
Maybe it’s the fact that beginning throws of crying makes the massive amount of cleavage dance like a hula girl on the dashboard of some teenagers first hand me down or maybe his first teenage hand me down but he softens.

Look I want to believe you but you don’t have any paper work or any proof that this is your car.

At this point the phone rings and its Mister who sounds a little worried and wants to know where I am.  I apologize to the officer and take the call and explain what’s going on… when I hang up I tell the officer that I’m going to get scolded for running late and speeding.


Where were you going again exactly?

Where is it?

~I give him vague directions because I do not know the street address.

He gives me a look boarding on incredulity You don’t know the street address?

~I give him an equal look of indignation I’m a woman I drive by landmarks.

So what exactly is ********? 


A club a dinner what?

~It’s a

A social event, a dance hall?


A rave?

~It's...What ensues is a nearly 15 min conversation about the nature of bdsm, dispelling the myth that it is all about sex, the importance of safe,sane and consensual,  basics on submissive and dominate relationship, power and exchange and overview on the psychology involved in play.
So what are you?

~Right now… a Submissive Switch.

Ahh that makes sense. That should be helpful with balancing out your A type personality.

~You really think I have an A type personality? I’m clearly if not blantly appalled.
Raises an eyebrow....with incredulity

~Okay okay you're right


He laughs and it’s a real laugh.
And he lets me go… even tells me that I can continue onto  ********* instead of going home to get my paper work first.  Tells me to drive slower, wash my rear window so I can see (if I’m being followed by the police) and tells me his name and where the station is and in case I am stopped again his card.

About 20 mins later (cause I went home and got my paperwork) I’m gripping onto the St Andrews Cross screaming/moaning my new mantra.

Early is on time
On time is late
Late is never acceptable


and for a brief moment I can’t help but smile because the sheer visual of myself dressed up like that defending myself, my sexual preferences, and the legal status of my ride is stranger than fiction
and what’s even stranger is that I think that officer knew exactly where and what ******** was and I think

… I think he made a pass at me.


missrenie: (Default)

November 2011

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