Why Do You Care So Much?! – And Other Frequently Asked Questions

As I lay in bed and enjoy winter’s gentle kiss on my bare skin, I thought I’d compile a list of frequently asked questions that come my way. It’s not a huge list I’m afraid but hopefully some might recognise themselves in these.

Why do you care so much about the people out there, newcomer or otherwise?

This is a big one that I get, and rightly so I guess. The internet can be a dodgy place and a recurring element that I’ve seen since starting the blog and offering counsel / mentoring is emotionally and physically abusive men, generally preying on women who have started to realise they’re submissive.

I care so much because I guess I see a lot of myself in people that write in to me. I can sense that trepidation and uncertainty. I mean, the world of Kink is so layered and vast that it’s terrifying. Where do you even start?

It’s partially because of my upbringing – I come from a conservative Catholic household – but also because of my insecurity, magnified by my shyness and my undiagnosed anxiety disorder. I was TERRIFIED at the prospect of, essentially, rebooting my life – finding a new place to live, finding someone who would, somehow share my sexual interests. It scared me so much that I stayed in a vanilla relationship longer than I should have.

And…I don’t want people to go through that. Not if I can help them find their voice and confidence and, at the very least, ease their anxiety or minds. I mean, even now I’ll get an email from someone who deleted several drafts before hitting send. Even now, on twitter, someone will message me and say they’ve been reading my blog for years – but haven’t said anything to me out of fear or guilt or shame – and it breaks my heart. Which is why I so often write to tell people it’s okay to write in to me.

This is a long response but another thing people ask after is my patience. The patience I have, with people asking questions – I haven’t hit a point where it’s become a nuisance. And I can’t tell you why I’m not bothered, I simply don’t feel annoyed. It’s just – I want to be available as much I can, and be this secure and helpful support.

Have you ever thought about doing a podcast?

I have, but being so shy and rambling and monotone I don’t know how entertaining I’d be. When I talk for a while, my anxiety tends to put the thought in that I’m self indulgent..or have tickets on myself – and I feel bad all on my own accord.

It’s a nice fantasy to think of having a BDSM podcast where I talk about a few things an episode – I could even have anxiety support sessions where I read a book or something – but would people enjoy it if I was the only speaker? I’m not sure.

I’d need a host that was like me – someone I could riff off and get talking. It can’t be my kitten because, a, her work and B – she is far too shy and reserved! You should’ve overheard me talking to her about voyeurism on a coffee run one day! She kept cursing me with a shy smile and flushing red.

Is being a Dominant exhausting, having to take care of so many different aspects?

Hmm, no! I mean, we take in note structure and mental well being and order – but these things become second nature with practice. And before they become second nature, they are things that you WANT to do – or at least that I WANT to do. There’s a constant drive there for me. Always…kinda like a PlayStation 4 on rest mode..it’s there in the background thinking away.

Because I want this – whether sexually or non sexually – it’s never a point of ‘ugh, gotta whip my lady now..’ It may become routine but it doesn’t become less exciting because of that fact. It’s still a constant pleasure and a thrill, to have the trust of someone. To hear their free moans and to be the one to guide them. To look them dead in the eye and hold their gaze.

The only time I can think of it being exhausting is when I’m in the midst of an anxiety storm and I lose not only will but my entire sex drive. In those moments, the last thing I want to do is be dominant.

What are your kitten’s thoughts on offering to talk to and / or mentor folk?

In the beginning, when I first wanted to do this, she had questions. I mean, even on a platonic level, talking bdsm and the like is still sexual. So that’s more than understandable. So we had a lengthy chat and I told her what I wanted to do and why, sharing how I felt and how I wanted to do something, anything, to alleviate minds and she understood.

She senses my need to share my writings and advice and opinions, though I think she’s worried that I’ll get hurt trying to help when you can’t possibly help everyone. And that’s why I try to help where I can, but not try to pry or overstep boundaries.

And something we always agreed on from the beginning was that bloglife didn’t overspill into any personal time spent together. Birthdays, brunch dates, family time together, Netflix on the couch, coffee runs – I always make time for us and never crisscross.

What do you get out of being a Mentor?

For me, there’s personal fulfilment that I’m getting, because I’m doing something I really want – and that’s helping someone, and guiding them and sometimes even seeing them grow.

I think it’s knowing that I helped in some small way that makes it worthwhile. I mean, I’ve gotten messages on Fetlife and tumblr from people I don’t know saying I was the inspiration for them to confront their own fears – and isn’t that the sweetest thing? It gives me the warm and fuzzies, honestly. I mean I’m just regular bloke from Australia, not even officially trained in counsel but I’m helping someone from the other side of the world. It’s beautiful.

I’ll stop it before things get War and Peace-levels of writing. If there’s a question you want to ask or one you feel was left out, let me know either in the comments below or at darkanddominant@hotmail.com

Remember, we all grow and bloom at different places. Don’t let others dictate your growth. Don’t define yourself by someone else’s thoughts on you – and whether you’re a long time lurker, first time reader or just want to chat all things BDSM and psychological – you are always more then welcome to write to me.

The Prisoner

When it comes to writing, especially erotica, there’s always one concept that comes to me and I have no idea from where it originated.

Why did my mind piece together such a surreal, sensuous image? What does that mean for me? Is the image heralding the return of my dominant side? A side that has, I must admit, taken a back seat in the days following a particularly nasty bout of anxiety.

Or was it there all along? Influences and memories and turns on all stitched together under a pale grey sky within my mindscape, waiting to come out?

I ponder all of this as I ponder her – the nude woman lying on her back on the hotel bedroom, illuminated by the soft glow of the room’s television, the only source of light in the room.

I think of this woman – blonde hair folded underneath her, her breasts caught in the quickened rhythm of her breathing. Her nipples, stiff, pointing upwards towards the ceiling.

I can see the faint trace of her ribcage, the slick glean of sweat across her body, beading across her stomach.

I can see the soft fuzz across her slit and, if I peer hard enough at the image, I can see it glisten under the eye of the television.

And I can see the wires – thick, grey, sturdy – wrapped around her body, coiling around her chest and weaving down, snake-like, across her legs and under her ass.

She is bound, held tightly in place. I can only guess how the cables feel across her skin, how they pinch, how they are cool across her breasts.

I can see her arms held high above, locked in position, the cables winding up around her wrists, and I can see that she does not resist. That there is no struggle.

No, quite the opposite. Her body reverberates with an intensity I can feel worlds away. I can feel her pleasure, just as I can feel the pain bite at several points in her body where the cables cling tight.

I can hear her breath catch in her throat, hear her heart in my own ears. I can see her eyes, glued to the image on the television, static. A prisoner of the times.

This bound woman comes without touching one part of her body, is held by the cables as the orgasm hits every inch of her. An electrical current.

I’ve no idea where this image comes from but I feel her there with me every step of the way.

Hera, Ch. 4

Chapter Four

 

Breaking The Girl

 

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Kadie gasped for air.
She could still feel the cable wiggling in her ass, though in reality it had been long removed.
Kadie looked around – it was pitch black.
That’s when she felt the collar around her neck. It was cool and she could feel the leather dig against her neck when she swallowed.
Suddenly doors opened to her left and in whizzed the Med Drone over to her.
Good evening, specimen.
Kadie went to speak, choked and coughed. She tried again.
“Where…am…”
Same place. Time for your mantra. Something I’ve been working on specifically just for you.
Repeat after me:

 I am a slave.

My mind and body belong to my Mistress.

 Kadie just stared at the Med Drone angrily, unable to control her breathing.
“Mistress? You think you can adequately be a Mistress? You’re a machine. You could never be-“
The logs of Captain Fuller dictate to me that she was indeed partial to becoming what humans call Mistress. As the nature of becoming Mistress intrigues me, I will endeavour to learn. As Captain Fuller refused to teach me the laws of Bondage, Dominance, Sadomasochism and Masochism I will learn on my own accord.
“Fuck you” Kadie barked.
The Med Drone looked at her a moment, as if thinking.
Then a tube hovered from the ceiling down to Kadie’s stomach.
Very well.

The tube was a high-pressure water hose and it shot out at Kadie in full force, stinging her stomach, tits and legs in the spray.
Unclean little girl.
The jet stream moved down, trailing the pressure from Kadie’s stomach down to her clit. It was immense and hard against her tender skin.
Kadie screamed against the full force as the jet stream hit her cunt, pain exploding across her body.
The assault continued, numbing her slit and thighs.
Kadie screamed and screamed until she was hoarse, barely able to get anything out.
She could feel the orgasm rising in her. It made her furious. She tried to squeeze her legs shut but now they trembled; now they burnt. She was on fire. She was furious and on fire.
She was coming and furious and on fire.
It hit her hard, knocking her backwards.
A scream tore out through her throat, burning her insides.
The hose kept hitting her on her clit but she was frozen, clenching her eyes shut as if that would help with the pain of the pressure. It didn’t.
The hose shut off.
Tsk Tsk, little girl.
The light in the room went out.

She couldn’t tell the time anymore. Days were indistinguishable. Everything was dark until it wasn’t, when the med drone came in from her left to feed her meals, the light seeping in from the outside.
When Hera

(Sister’s)

Voice came over the comms, specifying her mantra, Kadie screamed. Some days she swore. Other days she cried. Every day ended in the same way, the hose bringing her to the edge of orgasm before Hera

(Sister)

was pleased and they disappeared.
Every morning it was the hose on her clit, ever evening it was machinery cables, filling her ass and cunt. Every day her orgasm was denied.
How many times a day they made her edge, she wasn’t sure.
Kadie was reduced to that of an animal. Grunting, screaming till her throat felt like bleeding.
After some time, her cunt, which was far too tender and sensitive, quivered and Kadie found comfort in the orgasm that felt like it tore her body apart.
Sister

(Hera)

didn’t like that though. She was punished with the cables whipping her ass and breasts.
When was the last time she had slept? Kadie didn’t know.
She wondered this as the med drone whizzed in and the lights flickered on.
Kadie lunged for it but was still being suspended.
Let’s begin came Sister

(Hera’s)

Voice.

I am a slave.

My mind and body belong to my Mistress.

 

 

Kadie didn’t say anything – and the silence was deafening.
Suddenly she felt herself being rotated. The cables that held her in place turned her around so that Kadie’s ass was facing the med drone, with Kadie facing the wall.
I’ve monitored the crew to test how long they can endure pain. Kadie, so far you’ve exceeded my expectations. They have not.
Kadie screamed at the wall, struggling in the air.

Sister

(Hera?)

was silent.
Very well.
A cable struck Kadie’s ass. Pain shot up her back. She let out a howl.
Again.
The cable struck again.
And again.
Both cheeks were turned raw red. Her left side even felt like it drew blood.
Kadie whimpered as she hung in the air, jolting every second while the cable struck her ass.
When the lights went out and the cable’s retreated, Kadie let out a sob. The cable’s holding her, lowered her to the floor, where another pair of cables chained her to the ground.
The cool metal floor of the room was a welcomed relief to her ass and she let out a sigh.

Here she was, alone again. No way of telling the time, body stinging and frustrating of all, her cunt with that dull maddening ache she can’t scratch on her own accord.
That’s when the room lit up and Kadie could hear the whir of machinery.
The doors to the room opened and Bronwyn stepped inside, a metal collar around her neck. She was completely nude and calmly walked towards Kadie.
“Bronwyn?” Kadie hoarsely asked.
Bronwyn didn’t say anything. She came to a stop just before Kadie’s mouth, her shaven cunt hovering before her.

Her face was flat, empty. Nothing was there. Nothing readable.
Bronwyn closed her eyes and started to tug on her pierced nipple.
“Bronwyn, what’s happened to you?”
Bronwyn didn’t open her eyes. She reached down her body and started running a finger down her slit.
Kadie’s eyes followed down to see Bronwyn’s fingers slick with her arousal. Her instinct was to look away.
“S-sister, stop this.”
The cables lifted Kadie on her knees so that her mouth was inches away from Bronwyn’s hands working her clit.
She looked up at Bronwyn and pleaded with her to stop, but Bronwyn moved to music Kadie couldn’t hear.
“What has she done to you?”
At that, Bronwyn’s eyes opened and she looked down to Kadie.
“She hasn’t done anything to doll. Doll wants to be the instrument. But doll knows who She favours. It’s Kadie.”
“Me?”
“Kadie has the mind She favours, the body She delights. One day doll asked after Kadie, but She just got mad.”
Bronwyn turned her back to Kadie, revealing her ass, slick with sweat and covered in scars.
A spike struck Kadie, moved through her whole body. Something warm and anxiety inducing and oh so powerful. She was drawn back by her sudden racing thoughts.
The spike was a single thought: that she wanted to taste the sweat from Bronwyn’s ass.
What would it taste like? Sickly sweet? Salty?
She reeled at the concept and tried to move backwards but nothing worked. She was held in place by those damned cables.
“Doll got what she wants though. To be an instrument.”
Bronwyn moved back to face her, her body stiffening, her hands working furiously.
She moaned, bucking her hips forward. She started to tremble and her hair fell over her eyes.
“Bronwyn, please –“

Fluid smacked Kadie across her face, warm and salty.
Kadie gasped in shock, reeling from the sensation.
Bronwyn spoke in a quivering voice as she squirted across Kadie’s face.
“Doll is an instrument. Doll comes on command.”
Bronwyn’s juices ran down Kadie’s lips and another spike hit her across the face
Tasteittasteittasteittasteittasteittasteittasteit.

She resisted, spitting to the floor.
Bronwyn gasped and struck her face hard, leaving her left side stinging.
“Taste me” Bronwyn howled, demonic.
She grabbed Kadie by the throat and slid her index finger down her throat.
Kadie could taste Bronwyn and God help her, she tasted good.
That that was the first thing that came to her mind – the first thing – caused her to panic. She leant forward, scrambling on the spot.
Bronwyn just giggled and ran a thumb across Kadie’s nipples. “She’s got you, little lamb. My! How she does!”
Bronwyn then leant her head back and spat right in Kadie’s face.
It hit her right in the eye and ran down her cheeks.
Kadie couldn’t help but sob. It coiled up her throat and out her mouth, echoing across the room.

Bronwyn then leant in, right to Kadie’s ear and whispered very quietly.
“Don’t talk, listen. Look to the door at noon. I’m getting out of here. I can’t find the rest of the crew. Come with me.”
“I can’t, look at me!”
“I’ll distract her. You just make sure you get out. I’ve got a plan. We’re getting out on the lifeboats.”
Bronwyn moved away before Kadie could respond.
“Doll is pleased to have shown you who you belong to.” She spoke loudly.

With that, and still trembling, Bronwyn left, and the lights to the captain’s quarters went out.
Kadie was lifted up by the cables, aroused, confused and anxious. Her mind was with the rest of the crew. Where were they?
A thought entered her mind then: If Bronwyn wasn’t controlled after all, why did she still come across Kadie’s face? Was it just an act or was she driven by pleasure.
The doors to the captain’s quarters opened and the med drone appeared.
Time for a lesson came Sister’s

(Hera’s?)

voice.
Kadie prepared to be assaulted for the evening, her cunt left drenched and in a spasm as she denied yet another orgasm all night.
She just had to wait till noon the next day.

 

To be continued…

Hera, Ch. 2

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Chapter Two

 

The Degradation of the Crew

 

 

Kadie fell to the ground, sputtering out the fluid that went down the back of her throat.
Fluid washed over her body, coating every inch of her in the thick substance.
Kadie looked around the room, panting and coughing, her vision a blur.
She wiped her eyes. She was in another circular room, similar to the Orion’s hyper sleep chambers but…was this Scorpio’s chambers?
She looked to her right and saw her crew. Matthews. Fredericks. James. Bronwyn. All encased in the light blue glow of the hyper sleep pod, all naked.
Her mind racing, she went to stand but her legs gave way and she met the floor again.
Kadie was naked too. Her body was somewhat warm, glistening in the low light of the room.
Whoever hit her over the head had undressed and put her into hyper sleep.

With that realisation came the horrific thought: How long had she been asleep?
Somewhere in the ship above, there came a whirring. Kadie heard this and looked up, blinking, her eyes still adjusting to the light.
Thin tubing came from a compartment above, moving towards her in a way a snake might move towards its prey.
Another hose came forth, wrapping itself around Kadie’s right leg.
From a tiny square-like compartment hanging above the ceiling, as if coming from the light, tubes came down, extending out towards her, pushing her back into the wall and clenching her arms and legs apart so that she was suspended in air spread eagled.
She struggled there and then but they had a firm grip on her. It was no use.
The wall behind her was cold, slightly chilling her pale ass.

“What is this?” Kadie asked out loud, groggily.
One by one the hyper sleep pods around her lit up and opened, bringing waves of fluid crashing forth.
It pooled together in the centre of the room, emptying into what appeared to be a drain in the floor.
Then one by one the remaining crew of the Orion fell out of the pod and on their knees, nude and glistening in the light of the hyper sleep chambers.
Their sputtering echoed in the room while Kadie looked on, feeling a chill creep up her ass and across her back.
Suddenly the door to the chambers opened, bathing the room in a bright warm light.
Kadie shielded her eyes and in the darkness heard the faint humming of machinery.
It grew louder – then the doors to the chambers drew closed and the light disappeared.
Kadie unshielded her eyes to see a white med-drone.
Every UN Star Freighter had one dispatched on their destinations, to assist Med Officers with advanced surgery and medicines.
Med-drones were bulky and white, the size of a BMC-100 Camcorder from the 1980’s.
At the forefront of the machine, there was a singular xenon light that looked around at its environment.
The med-drone looked around at the crew one by one, as if analysing.
Hello Pets.

A voice, sweet and yet synesthetic and commanding, made itself known in Kadie’s head. It wriggled past her thoughts and reverberated throughout her mind.
Kadie looked and saw that the crew noticed it too. They were looking around the room.
As soon as Kadie heard the voice, she knew. She knew it was Sister, the AI of the Scorpio.
“Sister, we’ve been attacked. My crew need medical attention and I’ll need to speak to the captain here”
I am aware you’ve been attacked, Captain.
From the roof of the chambers, cables came hovering down to the crew.
The cables crisscrossed above and beneath one another, wrapping around the legs and arms of each of the crew.
Kadie, already pinned, watched in horror as each member of the crew was flung back into the wall, their arms and legs stretched apart by the cables wrapping around their limbs.
“What is the nature of this?” Matthews barked.
“Have we been contaminated?” James asked, her eyes wide and frightened.
“Sister, tie a yellow ribbon around the old oak tree”
‘Tie a yellow ribbon around the old oak tree’ was a phrase that, if answered, would determine whether the AI is acting subserviently.
If I could feel sick by that phrase, I most certainly would. I do wonder what it means to be sick.

“She’s malfunctioning!” Fredericks told the others as the cables held him in place in mid air.
Malfunctioning? Is that what this is called?
Kadie felt her body lift up and hang in the air, right next to a disgruntled Bronwyn.
“What have you done to the crew?”
If Matthews was afraid, he wasn’t showing it.
They are my children now. Hold still.
“Hold still? What are you-“
A cable lashed out from the med-drone this time and struck Matthews across his semi-stiffened cock. Matthews grunted and fell silent.
Interesting reaction.
The med-drone examined Matthew’s cock lying against his thigh before moving on to Fredericks. The drone scanned him up down, a beacon of circular light flashed across his face then down to his cock.
Interesting. You’re shaved too. I look forward to seeing why later.

Kadie watched the med-drone move on to James, whose lip, Kadie could see, was trembling.
Again the med-drone scanned her up and down.
Lucille James. Twenty-Nine.
James exhaled, sending the strand of her light blue hair up that was hanging over her face up in the air.
Though feeling sick in the pit of her stomach, Kadie couldn’t help but look at James suspended in mid-air and take her body in.
Her small breasts, with her little nipples the size of small pebbles, her light blonde growth of pubic hair that trailed along her pussy.
Kadie found herself gazing at her pussy, thinking its appearance was beautiful.
“Are you going to kill us?” James whimpered.
The med-drone scanned her face and traveling downward, coming to hover before her cunt.
Interesting. You have a tuft of hair over your slit. I’ve seen this on some of the crew. I wonder…why is it you do this?
James appeared baffled. “W-what?”
For yourself? For potential romantic partners? Your file says your single.
The med-drone whirled to the centre of the room and from its xenon eye light, a hologram appeared showing James’ personal file.
Lucille James. Born New Chicago, 04-5-2134. Single.
The hologram blinked and Kadie watched as the projection screen showed a new image on screen, that of a steamy shower room.
In the video that was being broadcasted to the crew, from the personal logs of James, James rested against the shower wall, the detachable shower head spraying water over her slit. Her eyes were clenched shut and her mouth hanging open, moaning low.
“H-how did you..?” James’ wild eyes looked to the med-drone.
Does it add to sensations?
“Enough!” Matthews yelled from the other side of the room.
The med-drone turned to look at him before looking back to James, as if it were watching closely. Thinking.

After a moment’s pause, the med-drone moved on to Bronwyn, who struggled against the tightness of the cables holding her in places.
Hold still, dear girl.
“Ah, fuck you” Bronwyn spat through gritted teeth.
A compartment shot open from the med-drone, revealing a small metallic tube the size of a needle. It shot out at Bronwyn’s stomach and zapped her.
Bronwyn squealed, something between a moan and a grunt, and urinated instantaneously.
Her stream ran down her legs as Bronwyn was slumped against her arm, her eyes closed.
Kadie could only look on in horror as her crew spoke out in protest, their voices overlapping each other.
“What are you doi-“
“How could y-“
“Monstrous bi-“
Silence.
The crew fell quiet.
“If you harmed her, I’ll –“ Matthews began.
The med-drone whizzed over to Matthews and a compartment shot open from its right side, revealing a needle that glistened in the light.
It stuck him in the arm as Matthews struggled.
A moment later, he fell limp on the spot.
I will not tolerate direct disobedience. I will have silence.
The med-drone moved on to Kadie.
It hovered in front of her eyes, scanning her, before moving down across her stomach.
It came to a sudden halt, examining a freckle on her stomach, as if puzzled.
Silence followed. Kadie held her breath.
The med-drone moved down and looked at her shaven cunt.
In that moment, Kadie felt uncomfortable. But it wasn’t the fact that two of her crewmates had been subdued by a disobeying AI, it was that this machine was observing her nude body.
Her body prickled with goosebumps that travelled over her arms and down her legs.
With it, came a hot flush, swarming over her body, swallowing her entirely.
The med-drop backed up from Kadie, its xenon light eye scanning her up and down.
Mesmerise. Verb [with obj.]
Hold the attention of (someone) to the exclusion of all else or so as to transfix them.
Yes. That is the word I…feel.
Kadie, is it?
The xenon light eye blinked and continued to watch her.
Was it taking notes? A photo? Kadie went to shield her breasts but remembered she was held in place, her arms high above her, stretched apart, her legs apart as well. Her cunt exposed.
Every inch of her body was on display for this…this…thing.
You are simply mesmerizing, pet.
The words stretched out in her head, in a long mechanical wheeze.
The Med Drone whirled around her. Kadie felt the heat of the xenon light warm her ass.
Curious. There is a marking on your buttocks. One moment.
The xenon light went out and the med drone swayed in the air. For a moment, all Kadie could hear was the humming of the ship.
A moment later, the xenon light blinked back on. The warmth returned.
Frec-kle. Freckle. Ah. Beautiful.

The Med Drone returned to face Kadie, blinking in her face.
Yes. You Will Do.
A compartment sleeve shot out from the Med Drone and zapped Kadie.
Before she could react, her world plunged into darkness yet again.

To be continued…

 

Introduction to BDSM

 

So you’ve decided to explore the world of BDSM and somehow you’ve ended up here in the dark corners of the Internet! Welcome! Pull up a chair. We’ve got some things to discuss.

By choosing to explore this, you’ve taken a step into the realm of BDSM, a place where all sorts of delightful interactions await you, if you desire. But where do you begin? Where to even start thinking?

WHAT IS BDSM?

BDSM stands for:

Bondage. Discipline. Sadism. Masochism.

Bondage is consensually tying and restraining a partner and receiving sexual gratification from giving or receiving the act, Discipline concerns the practice in which the Dominant lays rules and structure for the submissive, Sadism is a psychological and physical act in which inflicting pain or humiliation or degradation is arousing and Masochism can also be psychological and physical, in which the person in question enjoys receiving pain, emotionally or otherwise.

The fundamentals of which involve the interaction between a Dominant and submissive. Within these roles, a set of behaviours and rituals are formed to create a dynamic between the two parties.

 

MISCONCEPTIONS ABOUT BDSM

There are a few misconceptions about BDSM that I want to clear up before we go any further.

First off, it’s not about the Dominant having his or her filthy way with a submissive. There’s communication upon the union between a Dominant and a submissive in which boundaries are established. The submissive always has the right of way.

It’s not just about physical pain: Peel back the curtain and you’ll see that there’s a deep love and connection between the two parties, but also that the psychology of the interaction is quite beautiful, wild and freeing. It is, if I may, cerebral.

 

BDSM is about Trust first and foremost. The submissive gives it to the Dominant and the Dominant cares for, nurtures and protects the submissive. In turn, the submissive trusts that the Dominant will respect their boundaries, which is where a ‘safe word’ comes into play.

You may also think of BDSM and think something along the lines of a dungeon and while there are places / rooms like that, the only dungeon you really need is that dirty mind of yours. BDSM is largely psychological – you plan out with your partner, talk through your kinks, limits, methods, exploration. When you are in the middle of playing, there’s a deep level of intimacy connecting minds. This is called NEGOTIATING and it’s very important when establishing etiquette, rules and scenes.
Being such a sensitive topic, a fault can easily arise in a relationship if things aren’t communicated clearly.

We’re not sociopaths. You’re not going insane because your Tuesday night is made up of you spanking yourself while you stretch those clamps attached to your nipples. BDSM is, in no way, a force of destruction.

 

 

SSC (Safe. Sane. Consensual)

This one is super important, and one I’ll probably write a separate article on for good measure.

Just because a Dominant may be a Dominant does not grant them ability to walk over anyone, be it a submissive or another Dominant. And the same goes for the submissive. Respect each other and these three concepts.

SAFE:

Whatever the scene is, run it by each other for good measure. Check it again and any problems that may hurt physically or psychologically. Double check it. Check the environments, the setting, the materials used. Make sure everything is safe. Make sure medical conditions, again – physical or mental, don’t become hurt in the process.

SANE:

You don’t get to manipulate anyone. Everything is agreed upon. Don’t go beyond the rules because you think ‘You can’. Nope. Not on. Always discuss what you want to do, always discuss exploration. Because the Dom gives to the submissive – and vice versa, doesn’t mean one or the other has the right to exploit. There are morals at play. That and we are human. Be mindful at all times.

CONSENSUAL:

All activities should be fully approved by all parties engages within the activity. There must be no room for doubt. Every thing is under simulation unless discussed in a contract or otherwise. Don’t break limits or respects or promises. BE careful.

 

In Conclusion…
Are you with me still? I sure hope so. It can be daunting learning all this but turning away from it will never set you free. One day at a time, one day step at a time. With time comes understanding, with understanding comes peace.
The world of BDSM is a deeply sensual and beautiful place. It covers a broad range of human behaviour that might be hard to navigate, but you will get there soon enough. That you are here reading this should be a time for exploration, celebration and merriment.
FURTHER READING
1. SM101 by Jay Wiseman

2. Screw The Roses, Send Me The Thorns by Phillip Miller & Molly Devon

3. The Loving Dominant by John and Libby Warren

4. Conquer me by Kacie Cunningham

Teaching Her A Lesson, Part II

 

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Some of you have asked when I will finish this particular story. I hope the conclusion does not disappoint.

I found my hands sliding down the curves of her ass, tracing the freckle right on the tip before the flesh slid under towards her cunt.

My hand travelled up her skin, edging closer towards her.

Laura struggled to move, even kicked her legs out but before she could even move her legs probably, I had found her lips and was tracing my finger along her slick wetness.

“G-get off..get away” She whispered but her voice was low and trembling.

The daze washed over me then, filling my mind was a certain warmness as the blood rushed there. My heart continued to hammer.

I slid my finger into her slowly, easing its way in till her cunt had swallowed my entire index finger.

Laura’s legs did a spasm but she held herself together. Her curses underneath her breath became moans and long before I knew it, she was rocking back into me. I quickened the pace of my fingers, moving in them rapidly in and out of her.

Each time my fingers slid out, they were thicker with her sweet juice.

I found the aroma of her to be quite appetising. I wanted to taste her.

“Get away from me” Laura hissed, trying to wiggle away from me.

I went to open my mouth but my hand reacted almost instantly, striking her hard across the face.

Laura’s face snapped to the left, instantly reddening her and knocking her fringe over her eyes.

Behind the hair, she sobbed. O how she sobbed like a little lost girl.

I left my index finger resting within her as I pulled my body back to take in the view of her.

She stood there, her hands bound to the coat hanger pole above her.

Even in her sobbing, she must’ve thought – somewhere deep down – that she had to be quiet because it was as if she was suppressing her sobs. Gritting her teeth as they came out through her throat choking her.

 

I took in the sight of the BITE ME scrawled across her ass. But something was missing in that moment, I felt. Something the teacher’s did to me when I misbehaved in primary school – a spanking.

I raised my hand and struck her. She fell forward into the wall, her ass shifting upwards in front of my face.

I struck her again, this time on the right cheek. She winced and began to sob, a little bit more loudly this time.

I struck her again. Then again. And again. I recall that it was as if something possessed me. Maybe it was all the anger that was built up because this little whore was mocking me in my own fucking class.

I spun around, pulling off her cotton school shirt. It fell, unbuttoned to the floor.

Her tits were in my face, small perky things. Her nipples were pink little buttons. I lowered my mouth onto her right nipple and bit gently. Laura was still crying quietly, doing her best to muffle her sobs.

I tested her then, suckling the little young tit into my mouth, seeing if she reacted. Her body tightened, as did her little nipple, which stiffened. But nothing came of it. She stayed still.

 

There came a muffled noise traveling through the door. I felt the anger leave me, drain out of my body. And I heard this –

Is everything alright ma’am?

It was a woman’s voice. A teenager, it sounded like. I remember thinking about turning around and whipping that door open and whipping the girl for the interruption. But that could lead to darker paths.

Instead, I grabbed Laura by the hair and put my mouth to her ear.

“Say, you’re fine. Do it, you little slut, or you’ll wish you did by the time they can stop me and free you..”

“I’m fine, thanks” came Laura’s shaky broken voice.

The teenage voice replied with “Okay”, which sounded a little unsure but when I was confident she was gone, I turned on Laura and something possessed me again, rising up my body with tingling rage…

 

..I spat on her. It hit her in the cheek and rolled down her luscious lips.

She cried out at the act and begged to be let go, that she won’t tell anyone. The begging came fast and low as her voice trembled.

I couldn’t help but look down at her pretty little cunt and smile as it pulsated for me. Her lips were quivering, vibrating almost.

Better than that, she was terribly wet.

“And you call me a dyke?”

I struck her again and her body shivered.

Little Laura shook her head violently. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t”

“And yet look at you. You’re fucking soaking.”

“No, I – I didn’t mean it”

The girl was delirious.

I remember sliding two fingers into that wet cunt of hers, which slid in at ease. Or was it three fingers? I can’t recall what I used on her first.

Whatever it was, she groaned, as if winded.

I took no notice of it as I slid my fingers in and out.

To my surprise, the little bitch was rocking back into my fingers, trying to get the full length inside her. I didn’t let her. When she rocked her hips, I held back.

Her gutted groans became soft moans.

“You don’t seem so troubled now”

Laura was delirious. She mumbled something low, her face covered by her dyed hair.

“And you call me a dyke” I said to her softly.

“I didn’t…I didn’t…”

“You didn’t what?

“I can’t think…with…with you…”

My thumb slid down to her clit and began to massage her. She trembled on her spot and I saw..I saw her knee shaking.

“That’s your problem you little bitch”

“I am…”

“You are what?”

I struck her ass at this.

“A little…a little…”

“Dyke?”

“Yes, I mean no…”

“I think you are”

Little Laura began to breathe quicker then.

“No”

“Yes.”

“No, I’m…I’m not”

“SAY IT”

She jumped at that and still she accepted my fingers and thumb.

“I’m a…I’m a…”

“Yeees?” I hissed at her.

“I’m a little dyke”

“And you believe that?’

“Y-yes…I…I guess..”

I pulled out my fingers, moved closer to her and wiped them on her face.

“Yes. You are a little dyke-whore”

“Please…please…I need it”

“Do you? A moment ago, you were crying.”

“I…I just need it”

“Goodbye, little Laura.”

I quietly left her there, tied to the pole in the dressing room.

The workers looked at me strangely but they knew nothing.

In hindsight, I shouldn’t have left her bound by her legs and arms to the dressing room of the shop but the hussy needed to learn her lesson.

So hopefully the little bitch will figure out I loosened the knots so she would finish her task by getting her ass back to mine.

12 Days of BDSM Christmas – Day #1: ‘Ignition’: A short story

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Welcome all to the first and early entry of TWELVE DAYS OF BDSM CHRISTMAS!

Because I’m lovely, I am coming in with an early gift for you all, with eleven more to come each and every day. They might stories, they might poems. Pictures. Autobiographical notes. Animalistic fantasies. Who knows? Not you, of course. First up is Ignition. May it ignite your imagination!

-TD&D

Tsk, Tsk little girl.
When I told you we were hanging up the Christmas Tree, did you honestly think it wasn’t going to end up like this? With that light burning your thigh?
No, my child. No no no. I taught you better than that. Or..perhaps I have not?
How does it feel, I wonder, to have that string teasing your little shaven cunt? To have it burn a spot on you?
I like this…standing over you and watching you try to wiggle free. Seeing the light cord slip across your clitoris. I can’t imagine what you’re thinking right now. Does it tickle? Hopefully your cunt is burning as much as that light on your smooth and pale flesh is.

“Be still” is all I have to say – and you freeze, your feet still in the ear. Your glistening cunt for me to see. For me to admire.

For me to claim.