Crossing A Line With Friends

Crossing the line with friends header shows my naked bottom with cane stripes and a sticking plaster.

With the house move complete, the shoot with Dr Lovelace and Darklion was the beginning of a flood of activity for me. Not the same kind of activity as I’d used to fill the hole of Sir after he’d gone, with crossing different sexual encounters off a list. I was, instead, enjoying my continued explorations within my friendships.

The day that I popped over to Master Bigfoot (MBF) and Juggler was fun indeed.

I’d had plans in their town, and as my car had died (quite catastrophically) I got the train down. This meant that I would arrive too early for my plans to catch the ferry crossing across the water. It was finally time to take them up on their offer of ‘a cuppa next time I’m in town.’

At this point we knew each other well through the munches and parties, and even though I’d not visited their home previously I was absolutely at ease. Why wouldn’t I be relaxed with my friends?

Tea, conversation and kinky banter flowed.

As you know, I love impact play. MBF is an experienced and technically skilled cane wielder. It didn’t take long before an impromptu scene was concocted. Having not had any impact play in a few months my need was growing.

What better way to satisfy that need than crossing a line and asking a trusted friend for help?

By the time I’d broached the subject I had nervously taken up a lot of the time between my train pulling into the city and my ferry leaving on the other side. But he stepped up quickly, and once I’d stripped off and lay down he made light work of criss crossing my bottom.

Because we had a baseline understanding of each other it was easy for us to pin down the details of the gentle caning I was about to receive. What he could do, where I didn’t want him touching, how we would communicate… If only ad hoc scenes could be a safely cooked up as this one all the time.

We relaxed into the swing of things quickly.

As he talked me through what he was doing with the canes – using different techniques to stimulate me in different ways – I started to float. While I didn’t hit subspace I was a supremely relaxed, giggly mess. Joy!!

In the process of the impact scene my skin split a little. For such a thick skinned woman, my rump is decidedly fragile. As I’d expect, with MBF, he told me what was happening and asked if I was happy to continue. (Once he’d applied a plaster to the offending place.) Please do, I requested, and he did, avoiding my sensitive spot.

All the while Juggler was enjoying the play from her seat across the room. She was busy working, but keeping half an eye on us, enjoying the energy.

Noticing the time we stopped. Plenty of time to come to my senses before I had to leave, and another cup of tea was placed in my hands once I was dressed. Bidding a fond farewell I promised to return soon

Then I skipped off across the city towards the ferry which would soon be boarding.

I say skipping…. You might not believe me that this is how I moved but… If you love impact marks on your bottom, and you also carry a long strapped handbag, you’ll know why this is the only suitable descriptor of my movements. And when I boarded the boat, sat on the hard, wooden benches, I settled in deeply to the discomfort. The rise and fall of the waves exacerbating the sensations, silently thanking MBF while smiling at my fellow travellers. Travellers who, quite frankly, will probably have been wondering what I had to smile about on that grey, late October crossing.

The crossing was to take me over the water to see Mr Marks.

We had a walk, dinner and conversation planned. I certainly felt lighter for my first visit since our play dynamic fell apart so spectacularly months before. It was nice to see him. He’d been unwell, and seemed more mellow, calmer, less grating. I don’t know how much of that was me being relaxed thanks to MBF, or if he was genuinely sorry for his behaviour. Perhaps a bit of both. It was a thoroughly pleasant evening though, and I was very glad to be in his company again.


With my February Photo Fest theme in mind, I think todays post helps me to see that I don’t hold grudges. I used to as a teenage girl, and even in the early days of post-P I could harbour resentment over old arguments. But now, I don’t like to spend my energy on bad feeling towards others. I can maintain my boundaries without allowing the rage to continue simmering. And then I can spend my saved energy on fun things with my family and friends.

February Photo Fest 2023

Thank you for joining me for February PhotoFest 2023. This is my fourth time joining the month long celebration of erotic and sensual photography. If you’re enjoying it please do go and check out the previous years: 2019 was an incomplete month. I skipped 2020 due to not blogging at the time but 2021 was a joy to plan and complete, in spite of lockdowns. 2022 was a little more relaxed behind the scenes, but jam packed with pictures and memories I love.

This is the latest chapter in the story behind the blog. If you’ve not read any before you can dip in and out of the posts or start at the beginning. The next post will be published soon. Please do subscribe (in the sidebar) if you want to stay up-to-date.

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