Beyond Your Boundaries

Good morning, my gorgeous little pet,

This is what is going to happen when you get home from your work function tonight. As soon as you enter our domain, you are going to undress completely. I want you naked.
Find your house collar and apply it.
On our bed together, you will find my favourite lingerie of yours waiting for you. Dress into that, lay on your stomach – and message me you are ready. We’re going to wait ten minutes before I leave the study. Ten minutes for you — and no phone! No scrolling Facebook or Reddit, you’re going to sit and wait in total silence.

And then…I will come to you.

You don’t need to know why you’ll be doing this. You’ll do what I want when I want, but we both know I delight in your torture – and there will be torture throughout the day, I guarantee this – so I’ll say this.

I know you’ve had a stressful week, rushing around to make others happy, that is why I adore you. And that is why I am going to take, why I want to take you beyond the boundaries of your pain threshold.

Where we go exactly, I cannot possibly know, but I just know…I want to give that to you. I want to see you sweat out everything boiling in your mind, I want to hear you let out a howl that is so rough and unlike you that it claws your throat and leaves you breathless. I want to smack your ass, see you flinch, see you jolt, see your mind grasping at registering what is pleasure and what is pain and getting tangled in the distinctions.

I’m not just going my hand, as much as I delight in the sound of that CRACK on your bare skin, on my open palm. I’m going to use our paddle. Our whip. Our cane.

On your ass first. So I can watch you ever so slightly rise your hips as you beg for a thorough cleansing, a cathartic beating. The type that you will feel when you go out to brunch with your girlfriends on the weekend. Oh how you’ll wince as you sit down. My goodness. How I lick my lips at that idea.

But then I’ll move to your cunt. To your tits. I’ll take my time, marking every inch of you, grabbing my cock while I do, thinking of you soak yourself while you squirm into the bed like a helpless, defensive girl.

I’m curious about The Other. What comes out of you at the height of your desperation, of your frustration. You know the one. When we feel and react without processing, when we don’t have time to analyse a response that’s fitting, when we are stripped free of our armour, in this case the lingerie, my dear Valkyrie, and vulnerable to my every action.

I’ve seen The Other before – spitting bratty venom at me, one eyebrow cocked in my direction, her words barbed and laced with poison, her voice distinctly different then my everyday goddess, sultry and smooth. She’s unapologetic in her filth.

Most of all, I want to take you to such dizzying heights that the world melts away, that we’re high high HIGH in the sky, in shadow of the moon, bathed in monochrome. Or is that monochromatic. I’m no artist. I just want the troubles to wash away and slip off into uncharted space. Like warm water off our bodies from the shower we’ll take together after I have my way away from you, after I fuck you from behind, pulling you by the hair, running my hands over your nipples. Squeezing them till they explode in pain, till I hear you cry lot in said pain.

I want to give you a release. And I don’t want you to hold back.

I will see you soon, gorgeous girl. This Sir is very lucky to have you. Have a beautiful day.

12 Days Of Kinkmas 2020 – Day #7: ‘Salacious’

As she sleeps peacefully, her head buried into her pillow, a thin slither of light expands on the carpet of her bedroom floor. 
A shape emerges from the thin slither of light and into the darkness of the bedroom. It gently closes the bedroom door behind them shut. 
He moves silently across to the bed, watching carefully how audibly he breathes lest he stirs her. 
That’s easier said than done. As He waited outside her home and watched the lights of her home switch off, His body shook uncontrollably with nervous energy. 
Even now, moving towards her bed, He can feel his body tremble, can hear his heart pounding in his ears and chest.
He needs this. He’s desired it for a while. 
What’s compelled him truly – loneliness, infatuation, love — He couldn’t say. All He had was a fascination of her, to get to know what she’s like away from the rest of the world. 
With one hand on a cheap but able camcorder He approached her slumbering self – Her, the lovely psychiatrist Rachel Fielding. 

It wasn’t too hard to find her. A quick search through the white pages and another peek at a map told him where to go. 
The hard part was waiting for to be home. To find the time where he was free and she was free and then to wait for her to be asleep. 
That took longer than he expected.
But he was not in a rush. His only goal was to BE in her house.
The camcorder was for the memories. 
So he could look back at this moment in time.
And maybe even calm himself down should he be worked up and anxious. 
Through the display screen of the camcorder He absorbed the sight of her – she was a shape beneath a cream blanket but that blanket was down around the waist. He could see her top half – adorned in what looked a baggy grey t-shirt – riding up her body, exposing skin the color of a freshly peeled apple. 
Just seeing her bare skin made him hard in a heartbeat. As the seconds went by, he shifted on his feet, feeling his cock tent in his jeans. 
He let out a shaky breath, eyes traveling upward over her body to her head – buried in the pillow by her tangled and messy hair. 
He felt the urge to curl his finger around a loose strand of her hair – but stilled himself. That might wake her up.
He shakily extended his free hand to her crumpled blanket, eyes glued on that one patch of skin. His mind started to run wild, to run with the fantasies he had jerked off to in the shower. 

Rachel Fielding, the goddess too good for this world, surprising him in the shower, her tits better then he ever imagined being – perky nipples and just the right handful. 
His hand brushed against the crumpled covers — and she stirred. 
He froze, his blood running cold, as she stretched out her legs, the soft sound of her snores abruptly stopping.
And continuing again, unabated. 
He felt his whole body relax. 
Gripping the bed quilt covering her between his index finger and ring finger, He pulled it down slowly – and saw something black. 
His mind racing, his heart thumping away, he inched the blanket down further, revealing a black G-string snug against her shapely, pale ass. 
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Here she was, the woman that had sat before him in sessions wearing smart pants and plain, unremarkable blouses, was wearing a black, lacy g that barely covered the space between her ass cheeks. 

Standing above her, He felt that he was seeing a different, naughtier side to her – and he wanted to know more about this side of her. 
He stuffed his free hand into his pocket, all the while making sure he recorded her lovely ass – God, he was excited that he could watch this when he got back to his place – and pulled out a thick, black handle. 
A switchblade he had concealed. 
Keeping the camera pointed at her ass, he reached out and carefully slipped the blade underneath the right strap of her G-String. 
He didn’t realize he was holding his breath as the knife slid underneath the lace.
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. 
Or wake her. 
Slowly, He began to rub the knife gingerly against the lace, which given that he was right handed was a little easier. He just had to be careful applying the pressure, since he couldn’t lean on anything for support.

He had to still his hand as the blade cut through the fabric and pressed against her skin. He watched as the skin went white under the touch of the blade. 
Rachel stirred – and murmured something unintelligible into her pillow.
Completely frozen, the blade still against the back of her ass, He could only watch as she unfolded her arms to rest them by her side. 
Silence stretched on and He waited, standing by her bed, filming the moments running by.
Certain she had fallen back into a silent slumber, He slid the edge of the blade against her skin, trailing along her ass to the patch of lace that hid her slit from view. 
Her body stirred at the touch. 
Rachel’s sleepy voice cut through the silence, stunning him into inaction. 
That can’t be. He had waited. He had been sure she was asleep. 
And who was Andrew?
A beat.
The shape of her inhaled sharply. 
The sound of someone coming back awake. 
“Who’s there?”
Everything happened so fast then. 
He pressed the switchblade between her ass, leaving it to rest on the thin stretch of lace that hugged her anus and ran down to her slit.
Rachel went to turn her head but as the blade touched the curves of her ass, she froze – and a pathetic whimper came out against her pillow. 
“Don’t move.” He snarled. 
His voice was different than he had practiced in the mirror weeks before. It sounded fierce and…Wild. 
He held the camera focused on the blade between the cheeks of her ass. He trailed the edge of blade down lightly over skin, his chest swelling with joy as he found himself enjoying Rachel flinch underneath the touch of his blade. 

Her voice was coming out in fits and bursts, strangled sentence after strangled sentence. 
“Who are…why are you…if this is about mon…”
“Quiet.” Again another snarl in his ears.
Rachel did indeed fall silent but He could see the shape of her convulse and he could hear her sobs wrack her body. 
He buried the tinge of guilt that hit him then. He meant her no harm.
She would be okay. 
And yet, he found himself saying – 
“Take off your panties.”
Unintelligible stammering spilled from her mouth.
He made out one string of words –  “No, please.”
He shoved the last lingering bits of guilt away from his mind – packaged it up, built brick walls around it. 
He focused on her. 
“I’m not asking.”
More stuttering. 
His heart leapt in his chest. 
How could she tell? 
He pressed the blade further into her ass. An inch more and he’d draw blood. 
“Don’t speak my name.”
He could see the shape was wriggling. The head of hair lifted up off the bed, began to turn back.
“Uh Uh.” He said, “Say my name or cry out and this ends badly for you.”
These words were not the one practiced in the mirror. They came on the spot. Harsh and hard-hitting. 
Rachel whimpered. The total opposite of the cool, calm and collected psychiatrist he talked to in her neat, clean office. 
The beautiful, calm and collected psychiatrist.
“David, please. What are you doing?”
The blade seemed to sink into her flesh as he leaned against the blade handle harder. 
“This is your last chance — Take. Your. Goddamn Panties. Off.”

Trembling hands appeared down by either side of her oversized shirt, palms white as snow. Shaking, Rachel slid her fingers underneath the lace and pulled them down. 
He lifted the blanket back and helped her when her arms couldn’t slide them down her legs any further. 
“Stay still.”
He kept the blade trailing along her legs as he pulled the black thong off her feet and threw it to the floor. 
“Spread your legs a little.” 
Rachel’s voice rebounded off the wall in front of her face and reverberated across the space of the bedroom. 
“Do it.”
He peered through the camcorder window aimed at her ass as her legs slowly parted.
There, through the light of the camcorder, he could see the dark lips of her pussy. 
He trailed the edge of the blade back up along her legs. 
Rachel continued to whimper but he didn’t care in the slightest. His mind was wholly consumed with her, with how much pressure he was applying to the blade held to her skin.

“Please…what are you going to do?”
Her voice seemed to echo from far away as he traced the tip of the blade underneath her ass.
The course of the trailing blade left Rachel’s skin white and fading back to its regular color.
Now the blade reached the edges of her slit — and Rachel’s body twitched violently, like a napping dog feeling a fly land on its head.
She recoiled – and let out an anguished cry. For some reason that little cry kept him hard.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“Shut the fuck up.” He spat, whirling his hand up and away from between her legs and bringing it back down over her naked ass.
Like the sound of his open palm cracking against her naked ass echoing in his ears, the pain in his palm seemed to echo too – to pulsate and throb.
But she just KEPT TALKING.
Quick as a flash, he returned the blade to her snatch.
“I would be very careful about speaking, about moving, if I were you.” 
Tough love. It was tough love he had to show to her – she wouldn’t shut up, she wouldn’t stay still otherwise.
He didn’t want to accidentally hurt her. He wasn’t here for that. He was here for…
He froze, blade tip against her lips, ready to part them aside and find her clit.
There was a scent in the air. It tickled his nostrils. Sweet and – he breathed in, his mind racing to register it – honey-like.
The realization stabbed him in the gut and twisted the knife of its own.

“Why, it’s you.” He said just as the thought came to him.

No response came from Rachel’s shuddering body – just the occasional choking on sobs.
He focused the light of the camcorder on her slit and saw for himself. Her little lips caught the light of the camcorder and sparkled. 
“Oh my word!” He said, unable to stop the chuckle rising in his throat. 
“Fancy that!”
He was delighted. Who would’ve known that the serious Dr. Fielding would’ve been – he peered closer into the camcorder at her glistening cunt – aroused.
Was this a reaction due to being under stress? Or was there something else at work in Rachel’s mind.
“Tell me.” He said, applying downward pressure on the blade as he stretched out his hand and slid the knife further along her slit. Hoping she felt the pinprick of heat against her and that it made her squirm.
“What’s gotten into you then? Hm?”
He removed the blade from her slit. An idea came to him. He could –
Heaviness struck him, knocking loose the air from his lungs. 
Then the pain came, hard and fierce across his chest. 
Rachel had swung her leg back at him, He realized, knocking the camcorder out of his hand and across the bed. 
Fury, pure and burning and unwavering, took hold of him then. He grabbed her by the foot that struck him and dragged her back towards him. His right hand gripped the blade so tight his knuckles went white. 
With his left hand he wrestled her legs, managed to hold them down, while he climbed entirely on her and put his full weight on top of her. 
He held the blade to her throat.

The feeling of being on top of her and having the blade right against her neck sent a tickle from his stomach down to his balls. 
“That was risky, doing what you did. You could feel cut yourself open.”
When Rachel didn’t respond, he spoken again. 
“Are you going to try that again?”
He was enjoying this. Feeling her against him. 
Rachel only gasped. 
He pressed the blade against her throat harder. 
She sounded small. Not at all professional. 
“Are you going to stay still?”
He grabbed a fistful of her hair – she winced, her face twisted in agony – and slammed her down into the bed. 
Rising to his feet, he grabbed the camcorder from the bed and rested it on the dressing table against the wall opposite the end of the bed. 
He flipped around the display window – things were still recording with a full view locked on to her bed, frozen on Rachel’s wriggling ass.
He felt a smile split his lips and moved back to her side of the bed. 
“Take off that ridiculous oversized shirt.”

Rachel jumped at his raised voice and quickly followed his order, pulling the shirt overhead to reveal medium sized tits — white from tan lines where she has worn her bikini top. 
“Turn your body around. Face the camcorder. Let it see your face.”
Rachel did, swiveling around so that her feet were resting against the wall and over her pillows. 
Seeing her bare, smooth legs bent at the knee and against the wall – he couldn’t help himself. He unbuckled his jeans and slid them off, letting his hard cock spring free, and pulled his hoody and shirt off. 
Now entirely naked, he climbed on top of Rachel, legs either side of her, cock hovering above her ass. 
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head upwards. 
Rachel let out a strained cry.
“What’s going on in that head of yours? I’m curious. I mean, here you are…”
He ran the blade along the curves of her ass and down to her slit – all the while feeling his way through with the blade. 
“What, soaking wet. I mean – now I’m curious. Are you enjoying this? Hm?”
Rachel was panting in short successive bursts – but she did not speak. 
He pushed down on the blade, his finger steadily putting pressure on it, feeling the rigid shape of the handle beneath. 
Rachel choked out something unintelligible. It sounded like mumbling – like a murmur of words. 
He heard her pause, heard the audible click that was her swallowing. 
“Y-yes. Yes!”
He held the blade tip pressed to her cunt.
“Well isn’t that interesting. Why? What blackened thoughts run through your mind?”
“I don’t know…”
“Do you want this cock of mine to slide deep within you? Hm?”
Rachel spoke something but it came out in a mumble and a whimper.
“What’s that?”
He pulled her up by her hair and jabbed his index finger in the direction of the recording camcorder. 
“To the camera. Loudly.”
Was she going to move? Or fight back?
He felt his own sweat trickle down his arm from his armpits. Tension gripped his body, seized his chest. It had never left the moment he had stepped into her bedroom but now it seemed…tighter. More potent. 

From in front of him Rachel began to groan, like someone in slumber, in the midst of a bad dream. 
He supposed she was – but that didn’t explain why she was so wet. . 
“Confess your thoughts to me.”
The words just came to him all of a sudden. 
“I..I don’t..”
He growled, it came out sounding feral and vicious, and with his other hand he got a grip her ass. 
“What are you..”
“Careful now.” He said, prying open her swollen looking pussy lips and sliding the handle in gently. “Clench down tight. You don’t want to move.”
“No! Please. I don’t.”
He could see her little cunt contracting around the blade handle. His heart was hammering in his chest. 
“Tell me.”
“My job..”
“Forget your fucking job and tell me.”
“ I fantasize.” 
Her voice broke as she raised it. 
She stopped to let out a noise – something between a sob and a moan it sounded like. 
“You fantasize?”
She swallowed and tried again. 
“My patients.”
“To the camera.”
He let go off her head of hair and held the knife by its blade. The darkened handle was covered in her thickened cream. He squashed the sudden urge to devour her little cunt whole. 
To her credit, Rachel kept her head raised and looking at the camera. 
“I.I..look at them and I can’t help it. I think about being fucked by them.”
“How? Where? Who? Is it me?”
“Please just-“
“Tell me.”
“In the ass, right in my office..I can’t help it. There’s just something..”
A moan broke through the sentence. 

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It sounded alien. 
A doppelgänger.
A different woman. 
Rachel went on, speaking lowly and quickly. 
“I don’t know, there’s just something that I…want.”
“And who is Andrew?”
He watched as her pussy sucked in the handle. 
God, she was a greedy one, trying to get more of it. 
“M-my fiancé.”
“And you think of cheating on him? Of being fucked in the ass by, what, whoever steps into your office?”
From ahead of him, Rachel was silent.
Fiancé? She had a fiancé? He didn’t recall a ring. He didn’t see him here. What the fuck…
He slid the handle out of her pussy and threw it aside. Rachel let out a sharp cry as she did so – a cry that boarded on desperation. It became a deep growl. 
“No.” She shrieked. “No!”
He gripped her wriggling self by the hips and guided his cock to her. 
“No, what are-
He felt the tip of his cock brush against her pussy and — He slid in instantly, feeling his balls smack against her skin. 
Rachel trembled beneath him violently, letting out sharp, throaty cries one after the other. 
She was mumbling again, sweet little things he couldn’t make out. 
Something strange happened then — Rachel just floated down into bed. 
He could feel her body losing its tension beneath him. She slumped into her pillow, shifted her hand under it — and lay there still.
Yet her ass was raised, as if she lost all fight in her right then and there but her body belonged to him.
He used her.
Her ass being lifted the way it was, He could see her darkened cunt lips parted for him as he pumped her, finding a speed solely for himself. She made no noise as he fucked her. Not a wheeze, not a cry, not even a pant.

The only sound was of her soaking cunt, squelching oh so fucking deliciously as he fucked her fast and hard, his cock ripping out of her only to fit back into that tight hot slot all over again.
He felt wild.
He felt out of control.
He leaned down, his chest to her back and hugging tightly, his hands wrapping around her and clutching her to him. His fingers found her stiff nipples and he pinched them till they flattened beneath his fingertips.
He felt Rachel tense underneath him and then wriggle her ass back into him.
The feeling of her ass against him, easing his cock into her cunt further, felt fucking incredible. 
He felt himself coming close and froze. 
Teetered on the edge. 
On the very brink of orgasm. 
Nestled within her. 
Don’t move, he thought to himself, don’t move a muscle. 
He understood that if he did, if he clenched his cock muscle right this moment to try and stop the pleasure, he would have no chance in hell of stopping himself from shooting his load deep into Rachel.
And yet, it was right there, that urge, that maddening urge to come, to feel that crazy sensation wash over him and squeeze his balls.
He couldn’t help himself. He rocked into Rachel, the feeling of her pressed against him driving him mad.
His orgasm hit him hard. Pleasure swirling from his twitching shaft and aching balls up to his stomach, which seemed to fold in on itself. 
It felt like he had finally lost that one shred of sanity, feeling the come shoot from his convulsing head. He could feel it wincing shut – shooting out of him and into her. 

Stumbling, he lifted himself off of her and straightened his back while on his knees, cock hanging in the air, the wave of the orgasm still washing over him.
To his surprise Rachel turned around so that she was lying on her back and facing him, fucking perfect in the low light on her back.
He could feel his cock still in the throes of orgasm, could see the string of cum mark her tits. 
For some reason he didn’t move, he just rested on his knees, watching his cum paint her body. 
After the last drops hit her body, trailing down hips, he rose from the bed.
Rachel’s soft voice spoke out through the darkness. 

12 Days Of Kinkmas 2020 – Day #5: ‘When You’re Ready’

“When you’re ready, Eloise.”
But Eloise isn’t listening. She’s standing at the head of the conference table, staring down at her phone, re-reading the message He sent to her just five minutes ago.

Tell me what you are wearing so I can imagine pulling them aside and finger fucking your little cunt while looking directly into your adorable fucking eyes. 

Eloise is standing there – 5 ft 3, dark brown hair down wrangled into a ponytail, green eyes with a hint of amber in them in a certain light – and she is aware of everything but the boardroom’s eyes on her. 
The tightness in her chest. 
The straps of her bra digging into her flesh. 
How her thighs have clamped together upon reading the message – just to soften that rising ache in her pussy. 
How does he do this? How does he have such a power over me? She wonders, feeling her nipples start to follow the cue of her pussy. 
Before she can close her phone another message comes in. 

I wish we were back out at the cabin. You straddling me. With no one around. Just us two – getting lost. 

Suddenly, she’s at their own cabin in the woods, a place she earned with her blood, sweat, tears and hard work. She’s soaking in the bathtub that overlooks her backyard, gazing out at her little garden with her tomatoes showing slight signs of growth. 
There’s something about being there, in the cabin, surrounded by the dense forest, surrounded by the woods, knowing she’s obscured and hidden and free to just utterly be. 
And the thunder rolls in above her. The Gods themselves are perverts and can’t help but grow restless as they gaze down at the sheer sight of her tits in the water, her pierced nipples half peeking out and half submerged. 
Then she feels something smack against her arm. And looks up. 
It’s not any of the branches overhanging over her backyard verandah. So –
Another smack. 
Stinging against her skin.
It all comes on suddenly, the rain pelting down on her skin, needling the water around her. 
Eloise would just close her eyes – and take in the moment. The raindrops that keep falling on her head, that doesn’t mean her eyes would soon be turning red. 
And she would hear the sound of the back door slide open – and then closed. And when she’d open her eyes, he would be standing above her, his hard, uncut and thick cock right just inches above her eyes. 
Just thinking about it now, Eloise’s mouth starts to water. A desperate need fills her and she wants his cock, wants to hungrily slather her mouth all over it till it’s covered in her own saliva. She loves his cock, she loves his taste and just standing here, clenching her thighs shut, she feels the horrible-stomach-flipping urge to take in his cock and swallow him till she feels his cock hit the back of her throat.

God, I need to fuck your sweet little self. 

Eloise’s heart was hammering in her chest. She needed to put her phone away, she needed to get back to her work, to talk management, but she couldn’t focus. Her mind kept going back there, to the bath overlooking the trees. 
To his cock in her face, to her taking it in greedily into her mouth and rolling it around her tongue, savoring every taste. 
And what if he denies her more? What if he splashes into the bath beside her, flips her over so her tits are hanging out of the bath and her ass is raised to him – ready to be taken by him. 
The idea is so strong to her that she can feel her skin pressed against the cold edges of the bath and the cool air of the day on her bare wet ass. 
How would he like to take her? In the ass? From behind? 
And what of the straddling? Should it be facing one another, eyes locked onto eyes? Or should it be with her back turned to him, looking out at the forest? A reminder of their shared primal nature. 
Eloise’s skin feels like it’s scorched. Her nipples are pressing against her bra, fighting to break free. The strain is delicious. 
And she’s soaked.
She can feel it. 
She hopes no one in the enclosed room can smell her scent.
That’s probably what he was hoping for – humiliation. 

It wouldn’t be the first time he has enjoyed torturing her. Memories come to her of getting the order just as she was typing up a report — stop what you are doing, take yourself to the bathroom, undress completely and take a selfie for me. 
“At work?” She had written back, her mind wavering between nervousness and thrill.
“Yes, at work” came the text. 
Oh, comfort was stressed. Comfort was key. This they both practiced and discussed openly. No, he had the maddening effect of teasing her, exciting her mind, of the curiosity to explore. 
So she had found herself executing the order – found herself alone in the bathroom, slipping out of her underwear and finding the right angle she would be happy sending off, all the while finding it thrilling that any second – ANY SECOND – a co worker could match in and see her completely naked, pierced little nipples and all. 

Coming back to the present, Eloise didn’t want to be in front of her boss and co-workers, Eloise wanted to be in the bath, her ass in the air, her pussy lips spread apart just for him. She wanted to tease him into giving her the fucking she suddenly so desperately wanted, into giving her the mouthful of cock she so desperately needed. 
People were watching her, waiting for her to begin. She slid her phone into the pockets of her dress – her dress had pockets, yay! – and cleared her throat. 
Eloise was ready to begin but her mind was running to the time after the meeting, to the idea of slipping into the bathroom and rubbing one out just to relieve herself until she saw him next. To hell with orders. 
It wouldn’t be the first time she broke orders, it wouldn’t be the first time she came at work – at her work’s bathroom, no less. 

She would deal with the consequences at a later time.

On Inexperience, Writing & Self-Exploration

I’ve been pondering about a question that came my way…gosh, a few months ago now I think? Time has been weird lately – but it was about whether someone who is new to BDSM could write about it, fictional or otherwise, successfully? Or have it be correct in any way?

I’ve been thinking about experience a lot – when it comes to BDSM. I’ve been in a bit of a teacher / mentor mood, I guess, because someone new to the lifestyle wrote in to me and expressed frustrations about being ghosted by a potential Dom due to a lack of experience.

I can’t say I agree with that reasoning but I certainly understand how one could come to think like that. But I digress.

I think that when it comes to writing about BDSM, it’s important to trust in where your mind wants to go, do you understand? Because when you put pen to paper, you ignite your mind. You form a sentence. Then another one. Then you create a paragraph.

Or you don’t. Instead, your heart’s a mess and so is your writing. But it’s down, it’s on the screen or the page and you’ve trapped it. Whatever is in your head is there, frozen in time. A symbol of YOU.

What I’m saying is – writing is cathartic. And through exploring it, you’ll find pieces of your self, through which you night learn some truths about your tastes.

And if you want to write about a specific moral scenario – a rape fantasy, say – do what feels right to you. It’s only a fantasy. But if that’s not enough, write your thoughts on it in a seperate file or page. Explore how you feel about whatever it is you are confronting. Hell, ask the community. Ask me, my door is open.

Regardless of inexperience. Or shyness.

Writing…whether you want to and you’re either a dominant or a submissive or both, it’s about discipline. It’s about sitting down and confronting structure. Not just of words but of your mind. So find a time in the day to write 300 words. Do it again the next day. Leave each break on a moment you are excited to come back to. In a week, you’ll have a decent chunk of the story or your thoughts out.

As for that pesky experience thing, that’s another realm of variables. What if you are knowledgable enough about BDSM but aren’t in a circumstance to explore physically to gain more of an understanding of your wants and needs?

The best answer I have for that is one that might not be to your interests. When I was alone – a lonely dominant, I guess you could say, I peered into the depths of my sexuality. I explored and became comfortable with nudity. I explored my pain threshold, my comfort with verbal degradation. I found new ways to heighten masturbation. Little things that excited and stimulated my mind.

Everybody is different though and to that, one must find what works for them. But still, I think there are things you can do to gain experience.

Please don’t let shyness deter you. Or your writing. Or your self-exploration. Or from reaching out to a friend, the community, a Dom or sub or even me. There’s no easy way to say this but you’re going to have to jump into that pool if you want to write or to reach out. And just like coming up for air after that plunge, it all feels a little bit better after you jump.

Seriously though. You’ve got this.

Let’s Talk About The Erotic Melodrama – 365 Days (2020)

This is my conversational two cents on the freaking No. 1 most watched or streamed movie in Netflix Australia currently — the Italian / Polish Erotic Drama 365 Days.

First off, you can thank TUMBLR – OF ALL PLACES – for bringing this to my attention. They say they have gone SFW but plenty of sex and nudity and female-presenting-nipples get through somehow, which is where I found a user recommending this to the dominant behind their own blog-thing.

I’m intrigued. So I googled it – man kidnaps girl and gives her 365 days to fall in love with him. You have my attention, go on. Oh it’s Italian? This could be different. It’s on Netflix? Okay, let me watch it right now. Stop everything, universe, I must see this.

And here’s the thing about 365 days. Its two leads are gorgeous people, man and woman, its sex, hilariously framed to intrusive and loud electro-pop and power ballads, is kiiiinda sexy, with some fun set pieces, and it’s plot is your typical, pretty formulaic sex fantasy. Very much Mills and Boon.

If anything, it’s very much this big Italian soap opera — with sex. Which is a lot of fun, especially when the film reveals it does have a sense of humour. I like that. All this sounds amazing in itself, right? But like, I can’t not approach things from a writers perspective – and here, character development is minimal and unbelievable, dialogue can be pretty bad and the plotting is just your typical fantasy fluff. It doesn’t even get that kinky outside one or two sequences. Although, props to Laura’s best friend Olga being a voice of reason as Laura starts to fall for Massimo.

I will say this – the two leads embody their roles really well…but both roles have very thinly-drawn development. There’s personality to them but not a whole lot of depth. There doesn’t have to be some grandly plotted yarn here but for a premise so dark and twisted, I would’ve liked to have that psychological component here to be developed. I would’ve liked to have been challenged more.

If all this sounds like your jam, if you can get by on it, all the power to you. I mean that genuinely. You’re not even alone because freakin’ Australia seems to be gobbling it up. Do we love a good sex movie? Are we deprived? What’s going on, guys?

I was on board for the soap opera fun and sex scenes filmed like a music video to the pop music this production team really wants you to buy. I like myself a gangster drama normally.

But…it’s pretty average. Watchable but average. I have definitely seen far worse but I have definitely seen far better and sexier and kinkier.

From One Shadow To Another

Tell me.

When you lay yourself down in your own pocket between space and time, how do you feel?

When you run your hands along the curves of your breasts, when you skim the edges of your nipples with your fingertips, how do you feel?

I don’t want you to pull out the nipple clamps. Not yet.

I want to stand here a while and watch you writhe and toss and turn and beg for the release that, for this moment in time, only cold hard steel or plastic twisting you into oblivion can bring you.

And how do you keep that little lovely cunt of yours? Waxed? Trimmed? Shaven? Full? I want to see this side of you, so that the next time you run your hands across your bare slit or through your pubic hair, I want to feel it happen even on the other side of the world.

Even on the other side of the world, I want to feel your fingertips move through your soft mound, slip apart your cute, eager lips. I want to stagger where I am at my own point in time, our minds connected by this one act across distances because I can feel you with me, in me.

Can you feel it even now? The quivering breath from my trembling lips as I feel you? My wavering legs as I try to right myself? Can you feel that reverberate within your mind? Tell me.

How does that feel? Are you squirming? Rising your hips off from where you lay? And is your own body trembling yet?

Tell me. How does it feel to have this moment to yourself?

You may use your nipple clamps and tell me. Oh – and if you don’t have any, use your hands. I so do like it when a good girl uses her hands on her own tits.

So. Project to me how you are, how you feel, where your mind is taking me. Tell me through frenzied whispers, frustrated growls, tears of joy, anguished sobs. Tell me how much you want this – to play, to cum, to ascend beyond space and time and comprehension. Rise through the air, across space. Rise beyond the galaxy and form this connective tissue with me.

You may come now.

I’m Gathering Questions for a later Q/A so Ask Me Anything!

Hullo ladies and gentlemen!

We’re at the end of February, seasons will be shifting soon and moods will be changing. I thought that now would be a good time to put it out there that I’d love to do another Q/A with my readers – new or regular.

Anything goes, really. There’s no boundaries to anything you want to ask. It can be about your own journey, it can be about me or something I’ve written, it could be about something you want me to write about, it could be questions about dating or D/s or — anything. For me, as long as you’re comfortable, the sky is the limit!

Please feel free to ask via commenting below or you are always welcome, submissive male or female, dominant female or male, slave, pet, newbie – whoever! – to write to me personally. You can reach me at my Twitter or at my email –

I’ll be hoarding questions and answering them sometime in this last week of Feb so don’t worry about having too many. The only silly question is the one not asked!

Have a beautiful weekend!

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, dear readers! I hope it’s a wondrous year full of some beautiful memories you will treasure for a lifetime!

I still kick myself that people follow me – be it for the stories or random outlooks – especially in 2019, when I wrote less due to some anxiety spikes throughout the year and then finding a contract that keeps me writing – which I’m blessed for, I just need to manage time better. New goals this year!

Lastly, I want to say…no matter if you’re a man or a woman, a submissive or a dominant, no matter if you have zero experience in BDSM or a tonne of it, if you have a question about BDSM, want to say hello, ask about something I’ve written or want to talk philosophy of BDSM, you are always welcome to contact me personally, through my email or Twitter. Please don’t worry about being a bother, I am always happy to talk, no matter if it’s what I call ‘word vomit.’

I always tell people to ‘just write’ and not worry about structure or spelling mistakes or what have you, because I’ll read it no matter the length.

If you’re worried about me being busy and you don’t want to add to that, please try not to be. Writing to someone is far different than my work. It’s a welcomed respite. And even though I can be forgetful once in a while (Which I’m working on), I promise you I’ll always reply. I reply, not out of obligation, but because I genuinely want to. All are welcome.

Your endless support means the world to me. Thank you for following, for finding me interesting enough to follow, and hopefully I deliver for you this year.

Let’s make this a great year!

Thank You For Your Company

For those of you out there that have heard my interview as part of the Darker Side Of Spice event, I just want to thank you for coming along and supporting some positivity and good will in the community.

I’m just a regular garden-variety guy working on a little BDSM blog in my own corner of the world, so opening my blog or my twitter or even tumblr and finding people visiting – most from Australia and New Zealand, Which is cool – I love the idea that there’s people so close to home out there reading – is a touching thing, especially when a lot of the time when I write, I’m always sure that this dark fantasy is going to be THE ONE that makes people re-evaluate their opinion of me.

And yet…through weird sea creatures and possessive shadow, through my strangest erotic nightmares, people are still here. Knowing that maybe my darker thoughts give solace to someone out there and makes them feel less alone is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

Knowing that I can help iron out a thought in someone’s mind or relationship or personal growth – to be a part of that, is so touching in ways I can’t even begin to express.

So thank you – very, very much.

And don’t be a stranger, yeah? I’m a night owl, I’m always by a computer or a phone, scribbling down dreams and interactions and thoughts – you’re always welcome to drop by and say hello.

Oh and if there’s a topic I haven’t touched on, I am always looking to expand! Just run it by me and I’ll start thinking deeply!

It’s Not Too Late To Sign Up To The ‘Darker Side Of Spice’ Event!

It’s a particularly chilly morning this Thursday…and I’m laying in bed snuggled under the doonas just listening to the stories of people in the lifestyle – authors, submissive’s, professional dominatrix – and I’ve got a big ol’ goofy grin on my face.

For someone like me, who is shy and more or less keeps to himself, hearing the stories from others, especially when they’re so different, is a beautiful and fascinating thing. I mean these interviews go for 40 odd minutes, the standard run time of an episode of television, but I almost feel like I could pick the interviewee’s brain for hours, as I’m sure the lovely host P. Nelson could too!

So if you never got around to signing up earlier and you’re a little awkward like me but love the psychology of D/s no matter how far it strays from your tastes, there’s still time to sign up! We’re in day four now but old interviews stay up for 72 hours and all of the interviews are absolutely free and arrive to your email of choice when they’re up! So if you’re keen, hit the link HERE and whether you’re snuggled on the couch, driving to and from work or relaxing in your favourite spot, have a cheeky listen and enjoy the rest of the event! It’s bound to make you smile! Amongst other things!

And be on the look out for me in a first time for the blog, my voice and my awkward self!