Why does being whipped affect me in such a different way to being caned? The sensations are certainly very different, but this is not about sensations for me; it’s about the emotions, especially the day/after emotions.
I was reminded yesterday of a very particular moment in my last meeting with Miss Donna Hardy. Donna is very lovely, with short black hair, an “elfin” look that I find appealing and a slight sense of vulnerability about her. She’s a lot of fun to play with and I enjoy her company.
A while ago I was caned. I was caned by Elita’s man with a cane of startling brutality. I hadn’t been caned for a while and I handled it badly. I felt myself to be in shock afterwards; rattled, knocked sideways.
I saw the wonderful Miss Hunter in The Peacock Parlour, one of the best equipped dungeon spaces in London. It has everything: benches, crosses, hoists, chains and every imaginable impact implement (as well as a few you wouldn’t imagine). So we packed our session full of different positions and different sensations to take advantage of this… Read More »
I can see she is nervous. Her eyes are sparking; her laughter is bright, more than normally bright, adrenaline adding half an octave to its pitch.
I love posting other people’s stories on here. I’ve been in contact with Twitter friend, Honey for a few years and we recently had an extended exchange, effectively “swapping” details of our recent, intense BDSM experiences. We share some kinks, notably our masochism and our desire to take emotional risks as well as physical ones… Read More »
Not all canes are created equal and this one was an absolute bastard. (The story of how I came to be in this uncomfortable position starts here)
(Continues from Part 1) I knew immediately the first stroke landed, knew with absolute certainty, that I wasn’t going to get to twenty four. How could I? Not when I’d been reminded of the safe word just before he started, been given that easy way out; not when I was in the front room of… Read More »
I saw the bloody thing as soon as I walked in. It was sat on a table with her two-tailed Hydra whip. Jesus wept! It was longer and thicker than any cane she had ever used on me, and I knew for sure, even without picking it up, that it would be heavier and stiffer… Read More »
It was cruel really. I had proposed to the lovely Miss Hardy that we do a series of sessions, each with a different theme. This one was a meeting in a bland business hotel (the company booked it) and the theme was “aftercare.” Miss Hardy had worked out (prompted helpfully by me) that to play… Read More »
I am neither artist nor art critic but I love works where a single, well drawn line or a few brush strokes hint at the beauty of a scene and invite us to fill in the rest of the picture ourselves. This image does that for me.
I’ve been playing with Katie, all be it irregularly, for well over two years now. There’s an intensity to our sessions, a wonderful sense of challenge. Given that I am always (well, almost always) holding the cane you might assume that I am the one challenging her: “Can you take this? How about harder? How about… Read More »