Catharsis In Darkness

He wanted to make her cry.

He wasn’t sure why, not exactly, he just knew that it was something that he needed to bring out of her.

When the cane came down across her breasts and a cry spilled loose from her lips, deep and raw, he felt that within himself. He felt that as much as he felt the residue of pain around his fist that clenched the wooden cane.

It was a sense that came to him crackling across his body like electricity. He needed to push her into a different place and space, in order for her to feel, to purge.

Was he abusing her? Taking advantage of her emotional state?

A thousand voices cried out in protest in his head as he brought the cane down upon her flesh, but not once, in her strangled cries, did she utter her safe word.

Was it, then, HIS responsibility to gauge her limits and decide? Or did he trust that she’d meet him half way. Did he have to let go as much as she was?

Something about that was thrilling.

Something about the way her cries squeezed out of her chest as the cane struck her turned him on. Made him hard. He had never heard that in someone – a desperate cry. He wanted more of it. He hit her harder and the rush came, for both of them it seemed. She tilted her head back and inhaled as if breathing for the first time in months.

He laced every strike with a slice of degradation intended to cut, intended to play upon her mind. She was a fool, she had made a mistake, she was a pathetic little horny bitch.

The words sliced at him just as much, feeling coarse on his tongue, yet seeing her body tense, her breasts rising as she took in a shuddering breath, made the act worth it.

He was addicted, some part of him knew, to her darkness and his own. He felt it tearing at his soul, pulling him under with every strike. He wanted to go, wanted to drown beneath the waves. He was tired of fighting back, of being good, of worrying if he was a monster or a man.

More importantly, he wanted to see welts rise across her breasts.

‘I am an idiot. Yes, Master.’

She recited back to him what he spoke to her.

‘I am such a goddamned idiot, Master.’

Somewhere in his daze, he must’ve told her to repeat after him.

Was he in control? Was he really?

He watched her turn, facing her back to him. His eyes fell upon her ass, her beautiful pale ass, so perfectly shaped, freckles sporadically lined across each cheek.

When he strikes her, she grunts shrilly, in a way he’s never heard her before.

His cock is fully hard, aching to the point of pain to take her. As if he will go mad any moment now if he doesn’t.

He stills his impulse to fuck, and strikes her right cheek.

She falls forward, not expecting it.

He pauses, waiting. Listening for the safe word, but she gathers herself. She straightens her back as she’s on her knees.

When he strikes her again, she is composed.

When he strikes her again, she makes no sound.

When he strikes her again, she begins to sniffs.

He listens for the word.

It never comes.

Let’s Discuss The Eroticism Behind Beauty and the Beast!

Originally written by French author Gabrielle-Suzanne Bardot de Villeneuve and later re-written by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont, La Belle et la Bête (Beauty and the Beast) has had countless adaptations in Theater, film and television – most notably Disney’s 1991 animated film.

It has changed a lot since it’s original version, trimming down its large cast of characters and vast collection of magical elements, but it’s the backbone of the tale remains – Belle, through a series of unfortunate events, finds herself face to face with a hideous and aggressive Beast, only to gradually find there’s more to him beneath the surface. Eventually they fall in love, the details of his curse from a petulant prince – Sometimes this prince merely rejects the advances of an evil fairy and she curses him – come to light and the spell is broken, reverting him back to his original appearance.

As far as fairy tales go, Beauty and the Beast doesn’t come laced with the macabre edge of a Brothers Grimm tale. Instead it enchants through its complexity and its intriguing and mysterious narrative that gradually reveals its twist over time.

To this day, the animated version of Beauty and the Beast is among my favourite adaptations. It is not my absolute favourite, I think that honour would go to The Hunchback of Notre Dame, but it’s somewhat a personal film for me.

It was in my teens that I realised that I could identify with the Beast – an outsider struggling with his identity, his inner turmoil. In my twenties I would see it as something primal, and link it to my own primal tendencies, but as a teen, I understood his emotional turmoil – his struggle to let go of that anger.

When I first started writing this blog, I wrote a lot of erotica based on Disney, or should I say fairy tales. Ariel became a Slave to the villainous Ursula, Anna realised she could temper Elsa’s insecurity and rage and I’m sure I wrote about the rape of a woman dressed up as a princess at a Disney park.

I write this because it was interesting to read the reactions from readers when I published these stories. Most were conflicted at the idea of twisting these stories in a dark manner, but confessed they enjoyed eroticism of such a concept. Some even wrote in personally to me to express such internal conflict, with some even going as far as to express anger.

Surprisingly, and the reason why I mention this, is because Beauty and the Beast was the most common fairy tale raised, by people who would write in, as being something so grand and erotic that they personally connected with. It wasn’t Snow White being violated by the Evil Queen, it wasn’t Sleeping Beauty being raped whilst under her spell – it was the interaction between Belle and Beast.

Even in a vanilla context, there was that meme captured from the Disney adaptation: At the moment the Beast reverts to human, a subtitle has Belle saying ‘Change Back.’

In a vanilla context, one can see why – the smooth and gentle appearance of the Beast’s true form isn’t as appealing as that rugged, domineering animalistic form. Maybe normalcy isn’t as interesting as the persona that came out through Beast’s internal struggle in his transformation.

In a BDSM and D/s context, we fall further down the rabbit hole. The Beast represents this dominant force, this aggression there that Belle has to fight back against, like pushing through ocean waves in a swim.

Belle is a prisoner to the Beast at first, a Slave to his whim. Forced to confront – head on – his relentless anger and beastly appearance.

Behind all this, I would wager that people would sense the total power exchange amongst the two. Belle, after all, has had her life traded for her own fathers – to a literal beast of a man. For all intents and purposes, her self has been stripped away no matter how hard she fights back.

So there is that underlying psychological aspect at play, but let’s dig a little deeper – what is it that toys at these concepts within the mind of a submissive. I can only guess. Is it the anger that entraps their mind in sickening sweet arousal? Is it the idea of having all right taken from them? Is it being yelled at cruelly? At the whim of animalistic desire?

There is a joke that it’s a bestiality situation – and I’ve no doubt some consider that fact arousing. You’ll find no judgement from me here. But I think with some it is the concept of this animalistic persona. This primal entity.

As a dominant, I will admit that the story brings conflicting emotions to the forefront. I am fascinated by the concept of total animalistic behaviour. Degradation and humiliation and primal anger – all of these things make my cock hard. Entice my mind.

All of these aspects in this scenario, that I can sense in the Beast, are things that make up the darker side of my brain. Things that I’m drawn to outside of looking at this fairy tale.

Kidnapping and letting go of societal norms and structures – these are all fantasies that come to mind when I read or see something like this – these are things that I’m normally interested in, but also things that I just happen to look between the lines and see for myself.

The primal aggression and possession that are aspects of me bring bouts of guilt and shame. Suddenly I’m confronting these feelings and it’s both wildly arousing and a little deflating, as if thinking and feeling so animalistic is inhuman.

The thing is, I’m not alone – whether it’s a lewd drawing or a short story ebook, the psychological component has been mulled on and explored by others – countless others – throughout the years, some probably through the Disney adaptation and some feeling guilty just like you or I out there, dear reader.

That just means it’s nice to know I’m not the only one out there with deep, dark thoughts.

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!

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.

Incoming Rant and Ramble about being a BDSM Mentor

Grey sky leaking the bedroom windows, a soft rain on the roof over my head – laying naked in bed this winterly morning, I’ve been reflecting on my time acting as a mentor, of sorts, to those that have wanted or needed a recurring figure and friend to help them in their own journey, be they new and learning or savvy to the ways but finding new wrinkles in their mind.

When I first learned that such a thing as a BDSM Mentor existed, I didn’t really know what to make of it – was it key for some special sexual dynamic? Another riff on addressing one as ‘Sir’? It wasn’t until I read up on it, and read thoughts from the community on this here internet, that I realised what it was. And it spoke to me.

A mentor needs no ceremony, no bells and whistles, no special speech assigned to them – they merely are a friend on standby, someone to offer resources and guidance, someone who stands by the individual for as long as the individual needs their help.

A mentor is a preference though – one does not require a mentor. I didn’t have one, I stumbled through knowledge and here I am – and if someone like myself can do it, anyone can. No, a mentor is purely for those who feel they need the guidance. Someone to drop in and chat.

So in late 2016 / early 2017, I started to give it some thought. Could I be a mentor, I thought? Do I know enough? Can I help others? Am I worthy of their time? I doubted myself but my desire to help others where I struggled won over. I ran it by my kitten, clearing misconceptions, making sure that – if I were to chat with anyone about these things, man or woman, that she would be comfortable with that notion.

So I began to offer it more openly to readers here, being sure not to push the concept or make any shy person feel obligated, as I sometimes have been known to feel. I just wanted people to know someone could chat with them.

It became a thing of growth for me. I learned to be careful of influencing others with my own thoughts on kink, instead creating a space for them to feel at ease in their own skin. I listened and didn’t speak unless they asked. It’s not my place to interfere, I didn’t want to put thoughts in their head. If they needed a push, Well I would do that gently and only if I felt it was safe to do so. I didn’t want to rewrite their thought process.

Since 2017 I have been blessed to have had the opportunity to help people work through some of their own thoughts – and seeing these people go on to happy D/s relationships has been a beautiful and fulfilling thing for me, knowing in some tiny way that I helped them. It brings a tear to my eye.

It’s strange to me, when someone approaches me and apologises for their scattered email of thoughts or for wasting my time – because I’ve never had a problem with any of that. I’ve never felt out by an email, never minded wandering thoughts – as I’m the same – and I make the time to check my emails and blog. More than that, perhaps I think it’s strange because I can see myself in that person – scared and doubting, unsure about what they’re doing.

I don’t offer mentoring as much as I used to. A flare up in my anxiety caused me to doubt myself, leaving scars that remind me of those troubling thoughts – Who are you to offer that help? No one wants a stranger interfering. Just stop what you are doing.

But I try to relent and push through and still offer help where I can, because once in a while someone will write and say they’ve been trying to write for months but couldn’t overcome their own anxiety.

Being a mentor and mentoring fulfils my soul in many ways, but it has taught me growth. I’ve learned about who I am, about being a teacher, about the sides within me that someone I’m helping helps me see in the first place, thus teaching me.

It’s just a wholesome, lovely thing. And the fact that this person trusts me enough to let me in and help? That’s an honour.

Monsters

Ever since I was a young kid I was drawn to monsters. In the beginning, it was a child’s fascination with the unknown – grotesque ghosts, feral werewolves, unstoppable aliens, the very creatures from hell. I enjoyed their otherworldly presence, I enjoyed seeing something from somebody else’s nightmares.

As an adult, I still have this fascination, this…longing to see something beyond my own wildest nightmares. But there’s another layer there now – a new appreciation. Some monsters are tragic, creatures that were either once men, now different – creatures that are hunted for their own feral behaviour, creatures that have their own tragic background.

As an adult, the monsters that stay with me are Dracula, Dr. Jekyll, The Wolf Man, The Phantom of the Opera and so forth. Each of these characters are men struggling with something inside of them – this terrible self that can be destructive and alien and unlike who they are beyond the transformation. And though them I see tragedy and humanity and duality – and myself.

My mother, my sisters – they all raised me to be proper. They taught me values and morals that I carry with me every day of my life. I live by a few codes of honour – be kind to others, treat others as you want to be treated, be a gentleman not only to your loved ones but to the world around you – I certainly falter, some days I feel flat, prone to hotheadedness. I’d certainly never be violent – I detest violence – but I can be moody.

More than this, I can be primal and flirtatious and crass and sexual and just generally odd. I used to be terrified of this side of myself – this side that felt like being rough, that would think of such dark things….this side that would watch The Evil Dead and be aroused during the scene in which the vines of a tree, possessed by such dark magic, raped a poor unsuspecting soul.

After I would come back from a primal descent, shaken and panting, cock still throbbing from the throes of orgasm, everything I thought of in the moment would crash over me — and I’d be horrified.

That wasn’t me, I would think. How could I think such violent things? How could I get off on the things that go against everything I felt normally? You must understand I would never legitimately hurt someone outside of a controlled environment – think consensual non-consent – but the sheer idea of concepts new to me at the time – concepts like bruising, impact play, biting, choking, forcing my way into someone just to feel my cock split apart wet lips – horrified me.

I felt, in all honesty, like Dr. Jekyll discovering Mr. Hyde – who was this opposite? This feral doppelgänger? Why did I think such wicked thoughts?

And, fast forward years later, these wicked thoughts, this opposite man, still resides within me, carefully restrained through controlled environments and a watchful eye. It’s almost like a beast soothed by my other – kitten. Who helps me come back down, who accepts this creature and gives herself to it in love and adoration. If I am the beast, she is the beauty – one I’ve been looking for my whole life, soulfully fulfilling and accepting.

Maybe I’m not a beast or a monster or a creature, maybe I’m human with dark tendencies and that’s all she wrote – I don’t know. But I still feel it, you know? I feel it in my bones and in my heart and in my cock. I feel this ferocious energy, this mindset that says ‘don’t poke me, I don’t want you to see what happens if you do.’ I feel it all, and some days I accept it and some days I am scared by it, thinking —- am I alone? Or are there men or women like me out there?