I’m lying on the bed, tied, immobile. Already sore and exhausted after she’s worked over my nipples till they are sensitive and raw. A bowl appears. It’s full of clothes pegs. She pushes my legs apart so she can reach my cock and balls. I can do clothes pegs. I’ve been here before. I’ve had more then… Read More »
This session was never really meant to happen. It was, after all, only a week since an outrageously kinky threesome. However, that session had left me highly charged and wanting to push myself. Also I had the perfect opportunity; an afternoon flight to a week of overseas business meetings. If I was to end up… Read More »
The blindfold lets in no light. There is no imperfectly sealed corner through which I might glimpse something familiar or comforting. It’s been on since the moment I walked through the door of the basement apartment in response to the text. Just an address, a time and a two word instruction: “Be there.” How could… Read More »
Twenty four hard strokes in groups of six for both Mistress Elita and I. An unusual session to have with a dominatrix perhaps, but Elita occasionally likes to play hard games as a submissive. It was a lot. The bruises are still visible, though somewhat faded, a week later.
It’s his stance that worries me; makes me realise we are in trouble. It’s his stance that brings two weeks of anticipation and fear into immediate and sharp perspective. It is something in the way his feet, widely spaced, seem to be planted to the floor.
I have written quite a bit about anticipation; the delicious fear during the run-up to a challenging BDSM session and, just as delicious, the body’s reaction to it. At risk of turning my blog into amateur psychoanalysis of the worst kind; I think I know why this is almost a whole separate kink for me.
/you, close to the edge/ /softly, I push you over/ /whilst holding your gaze/* A different kind of story as I let my inner dom loose for a change….
A hotel room. A man lies on the bed, naked, waiting. A woman walks in. She removes a cane from her bag. She beats him with it. Hard. She leaves. There is no contact other than the cane. No words are spoken.
I love this song for its louche, languid style, for its wail against the ennui of everyday life and the search for a counter to it. But mostly I love it because……. IT’S ABOUT ME!
My ‘normal’ day to day life is a room painted vanilla. It has nice furniture and carefully chosen highlights in blues and purples. It is an altogether pleasant and undemanding room. In the corner is a closet. Once every month or so I enter the closet….
Sensory overload – When the six senses: sight, sound, touch, smell, taste, & proprioception in any combination become stimulated so as to induce a temporary haze of brain confusion. (UrbanDictionary.com)
Anal sex: taboo, dirty, unnatural, filthy. I am, more accurately I ‘was’, a bit of a prude with this. I struggled for years with the idea of what is a staple of many people’s Domme/Sub sessions and turned it down on many occasions in my early BDSM life.