Donna is over the bench, clips on her wrist cuffs connecting her to the metal frame. It’s a simple, but effective, bondage. Mistress Elita and I stand behind her with a pair of perfectly matched, suede floggers. There’s complicity in our shared glance; there’s a recognition of how hot this scene is; there’s anticipation for what… Read More »
It was one of those sessions that shouldn’t really have happened. It was too soon after the previous one, but my first weeks back at work after the Christmas holidays had been horrible and I was facing a long, lonely weekend.
A heavy BDSM session can be deeply affecting and sometimes I’ll walk out of the dungeon in a haze, barely able to believe what just happened. It might still be with me days later.
I can feel the fabric of the sheet slide against the rawness of my back as I move in my face-up position on the bed. I’m still a little sub-spacey from the whipping she gave me earlier, and the rubber rope she has tied round my balls is pinching, adding a sharp sting to the… Read More »
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.
(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 »
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 »
I hadn’t exactly been stalking Carla James; I have a rule that I don’t follow sex workers on Twitter unless I have played with them or are leading up to doing so, but others were unintentionally dropping her tweets into my timeline. Eventually I bowed to the inevitable and took a look at her website.… Read More »
I met with the delightful creature that is Miss Lilly Watson recently. It seemed like it had been ages since we had been together, and I had missed her soft, sweet smile. I’d missed a lot of other things about her too. She was just as I remembered her. Beautiful, warm, fantastically affectionate and adventurously… Read More »