A Special Dispatch from Our Senior Correspondent

Mistress is flying off to the East in the morning with our surly teen II for some college visits. She leaves early for the airport. I plan to spend the time she has in the morning with her here in the executive suite at the World HQ, rather than composing a blog. Fortunately, our Senior Correspondent Donna sent me this very personal reflection to share with all of you.

 

I have something amazing to share. Those of you who have known me for some time are aware that one of my great pleasures is encouraging those working in the medical community with clients having paralysis or nerve damage to include BDSM as one of the issues discussed as a potential means to provide sensory and sensual stimulation. Imagine my joy when I received this email last week. Hello Donna,  I wanted to share with you about a session that I did a few weeks ago with a man who has Spina Bifida. His parents were on board and very supportive. The session was absolutely a fantastic learning experience. I am so glad I had the opportunity. xo, Collette Believe me when I say that when that email came in, I was doing my own version of the dance of joy! Not only was the twenty-something year old man willing to express his desires and needs, but his parents heard, understood the depth of meaning behind his words and set out to find a way to help him. I felt elation that my friend was willing to help. The creative, intelligent and beautiful Mistress Collette, a Domme who evaluates and trains other Doms, Dommes, subs and slaves, chose to honor this man's request. Clearly it would have been less involved, less time consuming and less risky for her to simply decline. With all the support she has graciously provided me over the time I have known her, I am not at all surprised she agreed to help, but I am deeply touched to have a person of this character and quality as my friend.   And I was also honored to know that it was the work of Master R, who has for many years faced down the stigma, judgment and pettiness of others while operating a training chateau, who refused to listen to naysayers and took yet another bull by the horns in writing the history of BDSM in the US. That book, when read by this young man’s parents, gave them the confidence they needed to put things in motion for this to unfold for their son. After getting everything set up, the young man’s parents drove him to La Domaine and visited upstairs with Master R while their son had a training session with Mistress Collette.  It went wonderfully well and the young man is more confident and happier than he has been in a long time. His parents will be taking him back to visit again. And just to be clear, this wasn’t about sex; it was about bondage, domination and the sensory stimulation of BDSM. It was about providing a non-judgmental environment with someone familiar with BDSM methods and tools to assess how this man’s body best responds to sensory stimuli even though he is paralyzed from the waist down and has others major health concerns. What amazing parents these people are!  To me, everyone who had a role in this is amazing. The young man, his parents, Mistress Collette and Master R all deserve gold stars in my book! You know, I realize it may be hard for folks not living in or near the disabled world to understand the freedom that comes with BDSM scenes and/or sex. The last time I attempted to write about BDSM and disabilities (at a different blog) there were a few comments made that led me to believe I hadn’t been clear enough to help people understand the differences between vanilla sex and BDSM sex for those with nerve damage. I can’t speak to all disabilities, but I can tell you how this works for me. The very basic missionary position of vanilla sex leaves me helpless on my back, unable to provide stimulation for Bill or to receive enough stimulation for either of us to orgasm. While vanilla sex can be much more than missionary position, the end result is most often a penis in a vagina, and that is not a successful sexual scenario for me. I am confined by and in some parts of my life defined by assistive devices. That's just the way it is and it isn’t always a negative thing, but it is fraught with frustration and sometimes I need a release. Not just a sexual release, I need a sensual, sexual and emotional release. I need to feel that I have some power, and in my BDSM relationship with Bill, my power is as a sub. In the exchange of power that is at the heart of BDSM, when Bill ties me to a chair or the bed with rope or straps, he knows it is what I need, what I want. And even though I am more confined within his ropes than by the assistive devices I use during the day, in the ropes there is a feeling of peace, of freedom. Sometimes Bill stimulates my butt, dribbles lube down my crack and inserts a plug. He swings a paddle and heats and reddens my cheeks, the flogger stripes my back and feeling all those sensations makes me feel alive, really alive. He flips me over and ties me to the bed, uses the flogger on my breasts and beginning near my feet, he crawls slowly up my body, dragging his warm skin against mine. He kneels over my chest, he tugs my hair and feeds me his cock. I feel, I smell, I taste, I hear the sounds we are both making and I need them all. They heal me. I feel whole. I am this man's sub and he is pleased by my service to him. All I need to focus on right then is Bill. He will lead me through all these sensations. On a psychological level, I know I can do this physical thing as well as any able bodied person. It matters to me, and I think it would matter to most people. I suppose the point of all this is to say that while most people can find their way through the maze of life to meet their sexual needs, some can’t and need a friend or sometimes even a parent or two to listen to what they are really saying and offer a word of encouragement, suggest a book, or send an online link. It would be a most wonderful thing if BDSM wasn’t shunned as some dark terrible thing, but for now the best we can do is attempt to lessen that perception one person at a time. BDSM isn't right for everyone, but people should know that it is something to consider, especially for those folks who might benefit from the special gifts BDSM has to offer. Hugs, Donna -- Molly and Mick Collins Reply Forward

Input from A New Contributor

Over the last few months, Molly and Mick have received some supportive and clever comments from Donna, a fellow kinkstress from the south with a serious disability that has not prevented her from dipping her toes and other body parts into the world of BDSM with the rest of us.

She recently shared a lengthy post she has provided to Dr. Dick's website, which I think our readers will enjoy. Here is the link:the indominitable human spirit.

 A few years back, Molly and Mick had the chance to spend some time skiing and talking with members of the US Disabled Olympics Ski Team, who could kick our ass on mogul runs in their custom made sleds, using  hand held tiny skis to guide their turns down Vail Mountain. Their skill was stunning. But their spirit was even more amazing.


Out on the slopes today, the Collins clan saw a disabled skier learning how to use one of those small sleds,  with the help of a ski instructor. One of the surly teens noticed the guy, clearly paralyzed below the waist, and commented: "why would he want to bother...."

I tried not to be preachy, mentioning simply that the skier probably wanted the same experience of being out on the mountain, facing down gravity and nature that we enjoyed so much. it just took him a whole lot more effort and guts to do it than it took us.

Of course that reminded me of the spirit of adventure that Donna's wonderful essay demonstrates. And I wanted to share it with all of you.

Of course, Donna's comments show that she has the type of sense of humour that we appreciate here at UCTMW enterprises. She was quick to chime in on the adventures of the WC's brother with his runaway finger. Here is a portion of her recent email to me:

I have been reading and enjoying your blog for several months and commenting every now and then. [Speaking of comments, do you really believe WC's brother and that whole three times up the bum thing? Any chance this is a brother who is a bit jealous of WC and is talking out of his hat? I mean really, does he carry a dozen finger cots or spare plastic gloves in his pockets, or perhaps one of those pocket sized containers of anti-bacterial cleanser?]

I agree Donna. The WC may have to have an intervention with his brother on the issue of proper sanitation. 

And here is another contribution from Donna, a kinky holiday poem which you may enjoy:

I came across a little bit of seasonal poetry that I thought might appeal to you two as well as WC. It probably won't appeal to his brother since there is no mention of thumbs with attitude. However, I wonder whether the brother's name might really be Jack...as in stuck in his thumb? And yes, it is almost time for my next dose of medication, why do you ask?

 

In any case, this is an erotic romance writer's version of The Night Before Christmas.

 

Have a nice day,

Donna

 

An Erotic Romance Night Before Christmas
By Devon Rhodes

'Twas the night before Christmas, when in every hut
All the authors were reading and writing their smut;

The stockings were net above killer high heels,
In hopes that St. Nichol-ass would soon cop a feel;

The kids were at Grandma’s, all snug in their beds,
While drool-worthy eye-candy danced in my head;

And I in my teddy, and watching the clock,
Had just settled down to await the Big Cock,

When on the front door there arose such a thumpin’,
I reclined on bed to wait for my pumpin’.

From outside the window, Tom opened his sash,
Tore open his raincoat and gave me a flash.

The moon on the breast of my hero's huge pecs
Gave a woody the size of his home state of Tex,

When, what should my wandering eyes watch come in,
But a hot dommy Master, and eight smokin’ hot men,

With a huge throbbing cock, so taut and so slick,
I knew in a moment I must have his dick.

He cock-ringed his buddies before they all came,
And he spanked them, and stroked them, and called them by name;

"Now, Asher! now, Derek! now, Paulie and Darin!
On, Cristoph! On, Corey! On, Donnie and Larren!

On top of the bed! Let’s show her a ball!
Now lick away! lick away! lick away all!"

He was dressed in black leather, from his head to his feet,
And his skin was all oiled, inducing great heat;

A bundle of toys he had flung on my bed,
And I knew he’d torment me before I gave head.

His abs -- how they rippled! his chest smooth, not hairy!
His ass cheeks like apples, and no way was it cherry!

His sexy wide mouth was drawn up in a smirk,
And he looked like a man who knew just how to work;

He was hot and enticing, and wanted to tame,
So he tied me right up and started his game;

An hour or so later I was limp and wrung dry,
The guys were all empty, endorphins were high;

He spoke not a word, but packed up his toys,
And wiped up the cream then zipped up his boys,

And tucked a long finger under my chin,
And giving a kiss, said, “You were a ten.”

He strode to his ride, to his guys gave a leer,
And told me for sure they’d be back here next year.

And I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Sexy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."