Anticipations
Okay, cut, everyone take three (months, apparently...) and we'll try again.
I was talking to Pandora recently about the subject of blogging. Pandora's a journalist by nature, in the archaic sense of someone who writes about their interactions with the universe in a thought-provoking and erudite way, on a fairly regular basis. To me, this doesn't come naturally: I suppose the closest that I am to this is an essayist, in that I always feel I should have a structure as well as a basic idea for my article before I sit down to write it. P. has persuaded me that in fact, what I need to do is write more regularly so that people have something to read, and that what I want to say will come naturally once I start to write, so I'm going to give it a try.
I've not posted here since September. An awful lot of my life has altered in the intervening time period, but one of the things that hasn't happened very much is opportunities to continue my professional work, either with or without Pandora. I started writing here expecting that we'd be working together at least once every couple of weeks and would therefore be constantly generating material for entries (and, more importantly, would be regularly able to post newly appeared pictures of Pandora's bottom, which is the real point of visiting these blogs, isn't it? :)
As it is, I think that what I need to do is widen the scope of my search for inspirations. For example: I recently took my belt to Pandora, which is something I've not done in well over a year, and the experience gave me an intense memory from years ago of the first time I ever whipped a girl with a belt.
The thing that caught at my mind was the way Pandora looked at me over her shoulder while I was approaching her, folded leather in hand and a predatory look in my eye. There's a kind of anticipation, a kind of trepidation, a kind of lust and mostly a kind of domestic fear evoked by the use of an implement which is both so mundane and also so stereotypically a symbol of the fear of authority in any culture which needs to keep its trousers up.
Ruminations on this, memories of that delightful first time (of which more, I suspect, in another post) and thoughts about the different ways that anticipation of a scene works on Tops and bottoms, brought me to thinking about the Night of the Cane, run as always by Ishmael Skyes. Pandora and I attended the event in a private capacity in 2004 and I'm rather looking forward to going in a professional capacity this time.
My anticipation of this event is a complex admixture of pride in my girl, enjoyment of the social atmosphere, the opportunity to put names to some of the bottoms I've seen, and a very acute anticipation of how much I'll enjoy caning Pandora for the annual Competition. There's a physical component to this: thrashing Pandora is fun, and it's definitely a spectator sport so it'll be nice to have a proper audience. There is a performer's exhilaration to it as well: I act because being on stage or on camera gives me a lift and an energy which is the same as the ones I get from music. There's a solid degree of smugness, because I know exactly how attractive and how responsive Pandora is, and I know that I get to escort her home: and, loath as most dominants are to admit it, there's a healthy dose of showing off, as well.
Not all Tops are driven to show off in public: but I don't believe I know of a Dom who isn't, at least at times, motivated by the simple, and very human, desire to indulge themselves in a bit of peacockery. A caning competition is the perfect opportunity: one can show off one's immediate skills (like accuracy and control of the implemnt) and also the more subtle ones (like the deportment of, and your control of, the sub): and an audience of one's peers will appreciate these things and recognise in them a little of themselves.
Anticipation, for a submissive, lends itself mostly to the texture of fears: physical fear of pain, emotional trepidation, fear of failure to please, etc. For me, at least, and for many Dominants I know, anticipation is textured with pride: pride in their sub, pride in their experience and their style, pride in their own strength. There are times when showing off is a good thing, and this is one of them.
I was talking to Pandora recently about the subject of blogging. Pandora's a journalist by nature, in the archaic sense of someone who writes about their interactions with the universe in a thought-provoking and erudite way, on a fairly regular basis. To me, this doesn't come naturally: I suppose the closest that I am to this is an essayist, in that I always feel I should have a structure as well as a basic idea for my article before I sit down to write it. P. has persuaded me that in fact, what I need to do is write more regularly so that people have something to read, and that what I want to say will come naturally once I start to write, so I'm going to give it a try.
I've not posted here since September. An awful lot of my life has altered in the intervening time period, but one of the things that hasn't happened very much is opportunities to continue my professional work, either with or without Pandora. I started writing here expecting that we'd be working together at least once every couple of weeks and would therefore be constantly generating material for entries (and, more importantly, would be regularly able to post newly appeared pictures of Pandora's bottom, which is the real point of visiting these blogs, isn't it? :)
As it is, I think that what I need to do is widen the scope of my search for inspirations. For example: I recently took my belt to Pandora, which is something I've not done in well over a year, and the experience gave me an intense memory from years ago of the first time I ever whipped a girl with a belt.
The thing that caught at my mind was the way Pandora looked at me over her shoulder while I was approaching her, folded leather in hand and a predatory look in my eye. There's a kind of anticipation, a kind of trepidation, a kind of lust and mostly a kind of domestic fear evoked by the use of an implement which is both so mundane and also so stereotypically a symbol of the fear of authority in any culture which needs to keep its trousers up.
Ruminations on this, memories of that delightful first time (of which more, I suspect, in another post) and thoughts about the different ways that anticipation of a scene works on Tops and bottoms, brought me to thinking about the Night of the Cane, run as always by Ishmael Skyes. Pandora and I attended the event in a private capacity in 2004 and I'm rather looking forward to going in a professional capacity this time.
My anticipation of this event is a complex admixture of pride in my girl, enjoyment of the social atmosphere, the opportunity to put names to some of the bottoms I've seen, and a very acute anticipation of how much I'll enjoy caning Pandora for the annual Competition. There's a physical component to this: thrashing Pandora is fun, and it's definitely a spectator sport so it'll be nice to have a proper audience. There is a performer's exhilaration to it as well: I act because being on stage or on camera gives me a lift and an energy which is the same as the ones I get from music. There's a solid degree of smugness, because I know exactly how attractive and how responsive Pandora is, and I know that I get to escort her home: and, loath as most dominants are to admit it, there's a healthy dose of showing off, as well.
Not all Tops are driven to show off in public: but I don't believe I know of a Dom who isn't, at least at times, motivated by the simple, and very human, desire to indulge themselves in a bit of peacockery. A caning competition is the perfect opportunity: one can show off one's immediate skills (like accuracy and control of the implemnt) and also the more subtle ones (like the deportment of, and your control of, the sub): and an audience of one's peers will appreciate these things and recognise in them a little of themselves.
Anticipation, for a submissive, lends itself mostly to the texture of fears: physical fear of pain, emotional trepidation, fear of failure to please, etc. For me, at least, and for many Dominants I know, anticipation is textured with pride: pride in their sub, pride in their experience and their style, pride in their own strength. There are times when showing off is a good thing, and this is one of them.
posted by Mr. Cameron | 11:00 pm
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