The High Contrast In My World

You didn’t think I’d be out of the loop for the majority of April as well did you? I have been somewhat neglecting my kink world, and been somewhat absent from my blog, not to mention the rest of my online world. So far, unlike last year, 2024 has been a really positive one. But the directions I’m being pulled are in high contrast to the pressures I’ve put on myself the last few years.

But Easter weekend rolled round and I knew it was time for a play.

The weekend was planned to be with SWL, and we both needed some time on the Moor. With a desire to dunk myself in cold water SWL and I decided in advance that Easter Saturday was my chilly dip day. It being the end of March, the temperature wouldn’t be too bad. Surely?! HA!

Do you know, we had a generous dump of snow just two days before our planned adventure?

I knew it would be cold, but how cold exactly? Well, I would worry bout that when the time came. The week before I’d been chattering away to JayDS. He’s a photographer and I was running some ideas by him for the Sinful Sunday prompt of High Contrast.

We had some hearty back-and-forth, and he took me off in the direction of marks, with an example of the high contrast between some of my most beautiful blooms and my flesh.

While I know that a heavy impact scene would help keep my brain focussed at the moment, I don’t have the time to set aside for a scene. But when I was packing up to spend the weekend with SWL I knew that I was already having a scene of sorts with myself. And when my thighs are cold they mark beautifully. Plus, the floppy, silicon chain-style whip/crop/strap, which bundles up small, hurts like a… So I bundled it into my bag, looked at my ceiling and asked myself what on earth I was doing.

I always know it is going to be a fun adventure when I look skywards.

All those times S tasked me to push myself… I would come up with a hair-brained scheme, look towards the heavens, question my sanity. (While coming up with my plan I’d ask myself those two questions, just for safety’s sake.)

And so that’s how I stood on the grass bank beside a flooded quarry on the Moor. Having dunked myself in the 8 degrees C, then feeling like my heart was about to explode out of my chest, I got my top half dressed and started thwacking away. While I was high on sunshine and a plunge into icy water, I was disappointed that my marks didn’t contrast as I’d imagined. The angry welts were, to my naked eyes, barely there. My lily white thighs were still lily white, covered in goose bumps rather than decorated with chain links.

I worked both thighs, down the backs of my calves, and SWL even took matters into her own hands and attempted a hand print.

So I stood there a little longer hoping they would develop.

Standing first on one leg, then the other. Imagine the view, if you will. One middle-aged woman, half dressed in semi-formal jumper and blouse under, balancing on one leg, laughing and shivering. Some faint pink marks developing on her thighs, grass stuck between her pointed toes, and the browny-green water rippling behind in the strong breeze that tried to knock me over.

It must have been quite the surprise for a lady who silently swept up the Moor, passing maybe 20 metres alongside. It certainly was a shock for us! Her intensity at climbing this secluded patch of high Moor was in sharp contrast to our silly shenanigans, shrill laughter. It had felt strange, being “decent” while in front of the camera. I felt less comfortable, MORE naked for having clothes on. Until the lady walked past. In that brief moment I’ve never felt more grateful to be dressed. Nor for the brilliant sunshine to be hiding my welts in plain sight. Pushing the limits of ethical exhibitionism.

And so I’m sharing my Easter weekend of High Contrast.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my rambling thought. This is what happens when I don’t write for a while. Like the socially starved extrovert, with a group of people to bounce off. This introvert has lost herself in her laptop again.

See you all soon! Hopefully with some more sensible chittering.

Click the lips to see what everyone else is sharing this week. Or follow this trail to my Sinful Sunday archives where you can find all of my past submissions.