Archives for January 2019
I love gags. I love the way they look when worn by a helpless damsel, her eyes above it wide, angry, or even erotically inflamed. I love hearing a girl trying to talk through a gag and failing miserably, her ability to express herself reduced to a series of growls and mmphs. And I love watching her trying to relieve herself of her gag, contorting her face, pushing with her tongue, or rubbing against a pillow or furniture in a futile attempt to accomplish an otherwise simple act, were her hands free.
To me, a gag represents a sort of cherry on top of the bound girl sundae. I’ve taken away her ability to move about freely, then I’ve removed her ability to express herself verbally. Typically when you see a damsel in distress in the mainstream media it’s the gag which has the most attention lavished upon it, as almost nothing represents “helpless hostage” more than her hands behind her back and the lower portion of her face being covered.
Of course, the sort of gags you’ll see in movies, television, and magazine covers are utterly ineffective, complete and utter bullshit. A single strip of tape lightly pressed over the mouth, a bandana tied over or through a gal’s lovely lips, they’re almost comical in their inability to stifle speech or muffle a statement like, “You’ll never get away with this!”
For the BDSM or bondage connoisseur there exist a variety of gags to keep your girl quiet or muffled, a veritable cornucopia if you will. These run the range from effective coverings which cover a closed mouth to various balls, plugs, tubes, rings, clamps, and hooks which range in effectiveness from complete to strictly aesthetic. If you can’t find one to satisfy you and your girl you simply aren’t looking hard enough.
But first, a few basic safety tips.
Covering someone’s mouth such that they can’t easily remove it can be very, very dangerous. You run the risk of suffocation if it blocks the mouth as an airway and the nose becomes impeded, which can happen very easily if she gets emotional and cries during a scene. Additionally any gag which goes into the mouth runs the risk of triggering a gag reflex, which can easily lead to vomiting. I suppose I don’t need to point out that vomiting while your mouth is covered can be hazardous to your life.
So it’s important to pay extremely close attention to your girl while she’s gagged. While I’ve heard a variety of techniques, my favorite is the “no nodding or head shaking” rule. That is, if I ask her a question, she must answer as best she can verbally, which can lead to delightful exchanges whereby you truthfully or purposely fail to understand her. However, an actual head shake or nod leads to my full attention, a quick query as to whether she needs the gag removed, or an actual attempt to understand what she’s trying to say (you’d be surprised at how well a girl who’s often in such circumstances can express herself while tied and gagged).
Then there’s the issue of wearing a gag for longer periods. Simply put, the mouth’s natural, relaxed state is closed. When it’s open it’s under stress. Thus keeping it open involuntarily for any length of time can be extremely painful for many people. Sure, there are girls who can wear a two-inch ball gag for hours at a time, but there are also those who can sit with their elbows tied behind their back during the entirety of a Netflix binge of ‘Daredevil’. Don’t assume your girl is extraordinary until she’s been tested and passed. If she says it hurts, believe her, and don’t push the issue.
Then there’s the issue of swallowing, as in your girl could choke on her own drool. Some gags by their very nature can cause a girl to drool a lot. Some let the drool escape easily, others don’t. This is why it’s vitally important to test any gag ahead of time.
I always recommend first trying any gag while she’s entirely untied, and let her apply it as well. This way she can come to terms with the fit and feel while experiencing the emotional comfort of knowing she can remove it at any time. Let her wear it a while, see how long she can comfortably wear it, and make some attempts for her to communicate through it. Once she’s comfortable with it, only then should you apply it when she’s tied up.
Another thing to keep in mind is that a gag does not keep someone entirely silent. Indeed, a gagged girl can make a lot of noise if she’s determined, or motivated, enough. So if your room has thin walls and you’re counting on the gag to keep an especially noisy girl silent, be aware that all it’s gonna do is muffle her speech; that orgasmic, “Oh my GOD!” will instead come out as a slightly less noisy, “Mmm mm MMMMF!” Which may lead to even more questions.
As I said earlier, there are a lot of different sorts of gags. I’ll try to cover the essentials here but I’m certain to leave something (or a lot of somethings) out. And as always, YMMV. I’m sure that people will angrily correct me in the comments, so there’s always that.
Closed Mouth Gags – These are the sort which allow the mouth to remain closed, keeping the lips together such that the girl can only issue forth with comments beginning with the letter “M”.
The first (and my favorite) is good ol’ duct tape. Yes, a duct tape gag can be a very effective one, such that it muffles speech quite well and can’t be removed by an appropriately bound maiden. But you’re going to need considerably more than the single strip seen in most mainstream media. They can be done with something in the mouth (handkerchief, sock, ball, etc) or without. The former are most effective if not without some potential issues, but the latter can also work surprisingly well.
Basic precautions to use with the “something in the mouth” version, particularly with a cloth, is to place the center portions in first, with the loose ends and edges towards the front of the mouth. You don’t want a stray handkerchief corner or panty lace inadvertently tickling the back of the throat, as this could lead to tragedy. If you use something like a Nerf ball, be aware that it could expand to the back of the throat. And if you use a rubber ball, excessive saliva which can’t easily be swallowed can be a significant issue.
Once you decide whether you’re going with or without mouth packing, it’s time to apply the tape. Have your girl close her mouth, lips together (yes, you can pack her mouth so full that she can’t close it, but that wouldn’t be a closed mouth gag now would it?). She should have no makeup on, certainly no foundation, that the tape can adhere securely to her skin.
You’ll want to use the good duct tape; not necessarily the Gorilla Tape, but not the cheap stuff either. Start with one strip around six-inches long, applied straight beneath the nose and over the lower lip (be certain not to restrict her ability to breathe through her nose). Be certain it’s attached very securely, particularly the upper lip. Next use two seven-inch pieces to form an “X”, running from each upper cheek, under the corresponding nostril, over the mouth, and ending at the opposite corner, just under the ear.
Now take another seven-inch piece and run it from under one ear, under the jawline, to the opposite ear. This will leave a small hole at the tip of the chin which you cover with a four-to-five-inch piece of tape, starting under her chin and rolling up-and-over, creating some folds and wrinkles. And to cover those, a last piece of six-to-seven-inch piece goes flat over that, from right to left.
When properly applied this can be a formidable obstacle to coherent speech. Sometimes the adhesive on the upper lip can fail, or she can manage to get her tongue through her lips and wet the adhesive, slowly working it off. But most of the time I’ve found it stymies the most determined convolutions and contortions of a girl’s face. I’ve challenged securely bound girls simply to get the tape gag off that they may be set free, to no avail, even with five-to-ten minutes of determined effort.
And the other major advantage of this sort of duct tape gag is it’s relative comfort (barring the obvious pain involved with its removal). I’ve Netflixed-and-chilled for hours with my girl, even having her nap next to me while wearing it (she was also ensconced in a straitjacket).
I have reached the limit of my words for this session, necessitating a part the second. But before I go, a quick word about tape. Some people are allergic to duct tape, so test it on the skin first. There are a variety of medical tapes out there that work very well. And there’s also clear tape, and packing tape. All have their advantages and disadvantages.
In part the second I shall cover muzzles, then move on to open mouth gags.
About the Author
PirateStan has been involved in his local BDSM community for over 11 years, after having had a lifelong inclination towards it. He currently lives a contented life in Southeastern Virginia with his girl, zeirah, while working by day for a Major Metropolitan Publication.
So many people see Dom’s (I use this term to cover generally all of the Top persuasion) as indestructible men and women who have total control over everything they do and that nothing can get to them. Yet in reality it couldn’t be further from the truth.
At the end of the day Dom’s are only human too. The same things that can bring down ‘normal’ people, can have just as much of effect on them. Often at times though, they are just better at hiding it. I know I am, my poker face game is strong!
Yet it’s ok to let things get to you. It is ok to say, especially to your Sub, that you need some support. Someone to tell you things will be ok. That you’re worth it and doing a good job. A simple kind word or hug from your Sub does wonders.
Asking for help and support in times of need, is a show of strength, not weakness.
Being a Dom, especially with a Sub to care for, can be a lot of work. It takes a lot of effort. There are times where you will question yourself, doubt yourself. There are times when your head may overthink the smallest things. At the end of the day though you need to trust yourself. Trust in your Sub. Trust in the relationship you are in.
I have mentioned in previous writings about just how strong the connection is with my FunUnicorn. What I haven’t said enough though, is just how much strength she both gives and shows me.
I’m not sure if she knows how much her words mean to me at times. Perhaps I should tell her more. I’m pretty simple to please at times and hearing that I’m valued, or what I mean to her, does wonders for me and my mind set.
What I do know, is because of the bond and the honest, open communication we have, we can say anything at all to each other. I know that I can go to her and tell her I’m down and she will pick me up and give me strength.
It is ok for a Sub to support their Dom in the times when they are down. And it’s ok for a Dom to lean on their Sub when needed.
If you can manage to get your d/s relationship to this point, where there is no dominant ego, just respect, love, understanding and support, believe me, your relationship will be amazing.
Those times when you’re down, won’t seem nearly as bad either.
About the Author
Having privately been a Dom for a little over 10 years, it is just in the last couple of years that Wgtn_Dom has stepped out of the shadows and become more involved in the Wellington and New Zealand BDSM and kink scene.
He loves to share the knowledge that he has gained over the years, with anyone who cares to listen or read his writings! But is also a sucker for gaining further knowledge himself and is always keen to learn more about all aspects of BDSM and kink.
While by no means an erotic writer, he does enjoy putting in writing some of his erotic thoughts or sharing some of his adventures he gets up to with his beautiful submissive.
He also enjoys sharing his thoughts and personal insight about various topics on Fetlife and welcomes any and all feedback on whatever he may jot down. Feel free to follow him there too under Wgtn_Dom.
Vancouver couple mixes Shibari, discussions of consent, and life drawing in their art classes
Click here to read more
Learn about waterboarding and why it gives some kinksters pleasure!
Click here to find out more
Learn more about how 20 year old Dominatrixes are paying off their school loans via financial domination
Click here to read more
Learn how this 24/7 D/s couple functions and uses her submission to help with her eating disorder
Click here to read on!
Have some kinky news to share? Tell us about any upcoming BDSM events, new products, dungeon openings / closings, collarings, kink in mainstream media, and anything else you think kinky folks might be interested to hear about. Send your tips through to firstname.lastname@example.org, and it might just end up on next week’s “This Week in Kink.”
“You’re not half the swordsman I am.”
She said it flatly, as if it were an unquestioned fact that he was meant merely to accept without challenging. It was also, in his informed opinion, ridiculous.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. You’re not nearly as good as I am. Look at our awards. The results speak for themselves. I’ve won tournament after tournament, you’ve never won a single one.”
He chuckled, running a hand through his short black curls, and then rubbing the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “We’re just going to ignore the fact that you’re usually competing against the same five or six girls, while I’m in fields of thirty or more? I was training here before you ever picked up a saber or a foil, and I taught you everything you know.”
“You taught me everything you know,” she said with a smirk and a toss of her shoulder-length auburn hair. The way she laughed him off infuriated him. He wanted to wrap his hand in that air and drag her to her knees. “And then I perfected it and learned more. I’m better than you, plain and simple.”
It was true that she won more often than not when they had matches in the studio, but he was the teaching assistant. He had never gone full out against her, always instead trying to present learning opportunities. And, he had to admit, he hoped that as long as she was winning, it would put her in a mood where she might be willing to accept a date with him. Not that he had ever worked up the courage to ask.
He had always thought she realized that he had been working to teach, not fighting her to win. Evidently, that was not the case. Part of him wanted to simply point out the error to her. But something about her mocking tone made him angry enough that he just wanted to put her in her place.
“Are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?” he asked. “A private bout, just you and me. Here in the studio, after we lock up for the night, with no witnesses.”
“Are you afraid of being beaten with the whole class here?” she countered with a smirk. “Everyone here has seen me beat you before.”
“I’m not afraid at all. But I don’t think you’re going to want to have the kind of match I have in mind with anyone else here.”
“What is it you have in mind then?”
“Strip fencing. Each point makes the loser take off a piece of clothing.”
Her eyes widened. He couldn’t possibly be serious about this, could he? But she wasn’t willing to back down.
“And the stakes?”
“Name them,” he replied. “I’ll take stripping you bare as plenty of payment. Along with you no longer making such ridiculous claims about being better than me.”
“Fine. And when I beat you, and you’re sitting there naked, I want pictures and a promise that you’ll tell the Maestro that I should be his new teaching assistant.”
She hesitated. He was far too confident for her liking, and he agreed far too readily. But she wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass. “Tomorrow? That’ll be Saturday. And the studio closes at 7. I’ll be here at 9?” She knew that he had keys and could let them in.
“I’ll see you at 9 o’clock.”
* * *
The next night, she arrived at the studio, fencing gear in hand. She had her favorite rapier, her mask, gloves, and groin protection in a duffle bag. She looked down at what she was wearing. A flannel shirt over a t-shirt, workout pants, athletic shoes, and of course, under that, a sensible pair of panties and a sports bra. She figured it likely that he would be down at least two articles of clothing, since he was unlikely to be wearing two shirts, and of course, had one less piece of underwear to lose.
Not that she planned on losing anything. She knew all of his tricks by now, and all of the openings he tended to leave open. She was confident that she would get him down to his boxers without losing anything of her own, at which point he would call off the bout. And then she would be the Maestro’s new assistant, which would give her plenty of time alone with the older British man with which she could try to seduce him. She had wanted the Maestro since her very first class, but he had never paid any attention to her – except for when she would come back from a tournament with another win.
But first? She had to get rid of Him. The older student had taught her plenty, and sure, he was kind of cute in his own way, but she wanted to be the Maestro’s assistant. So, he had to go.
For his part, he had been waiting for her ever since the last students had left two hours ago. He had two rapiers ready with padded tips, although he fully expected her to want to use her own sword. He had been doing some light calisthenics, trying to keep warmed up and loose without exhausting himself. He had a plan for exactly how to play this out, and he wanted everything to be perfect.
He went to the door right at 9:00, and saw her standing there, gear in hand. He unlocked the door, and opened it with a flourish. “I’m glad you came.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” she answered. “What do you have in mind for the ground rules?”
“Typical rules for targeting – no going for the other person’s crotch. A thrust or draw cut will count as a touch. Both socks count as one article of clothing, same with shoes. Jewelry and watches don’t count as clothes. Neither does your cup – it goes with the underwear. Groin protection obviously has to go last, but otherwise, the person who lost the point can choose what to remove.” He looked her up and down, noticing her flannel shirt over her tee, unlike the simple shirt he was wearing. “I guess that gives you a two item advantage over me,” he said while shrugging.
“I can lose the shirt if you think it’s unfair,” she said, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be willing to admit he wanted to reduce her advantage.
“No, that’s fine. Keep the shirt – at least until I make you lose it.”
From the arrogance in his response, she was really looking forward to humiliating him. “Alright. Let’s go.”
With no further words, they put on their masks and gloves, and grabbed their rapiers. The stood, facing each other and saluted, before giving a slight bow.
“Begin,” he said.
They slowly started circling one another, she keeping her rapier tip towards him, while he left his arms akimbo. A few thrusts from her were used to to probe his defenses, and she noted that he was relying entirely on using his left hand to swat away her rapier instead of bringing his own blade into play. The smug bastard was toying with her. Well, she knew how to handle that. A quick thrust towards his mask proved to be a feint, and as he moved to push her blade aside, her point dipped low under her arm, and she quickly placed her blade and pulled back, cutting against his ribs.
“My point,” she said under her mask, starting to feel the sweat build up. He was quick on his feet, and while the first point went to her easily enough, he was moving around the room enough that she was already starting to perspire. Was it hotter than normal in the studio?
He nodded in concession and stepped back. She looked on, expecting to see him reach down to remove his shoes, and was surprised when he reached down to his waist, grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up and over his mask.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice full of surprise.
“Removing my first article of clothing, per the rules,” he said, smirking beneath his mask. “We never set rules for what order the loser has to remove their clothing – just that it was their choice, and groin protection would be last.”
“Right, but I figured…”
“You figured wrong. Are you ready to go again?”
She nodded, even as she looked him over. He looked better without a shirt than she had expected. He was in decent shape, even if he had the slightest bit of a belly. His pecs and arms had nice definition, and he was hairier than she had guessed, but his chest hair was still not too thick. Just the way she liked her men. If the stakes weren’t what they were, she wouldn’t mind admiring his bare chest longer. But she mentally shook her head, focusing on her objective.
The next pass went similar, although now he was keeping his blade up and engaged with hers. He was clearly making an effort to guard his chest, because blunted tips or not, a thrust to bare flesh would hurt, and a draw cut would sting. She took advantage of his focus, making only the barest of feints against his chest before making a quick reversal and thrusting straight into the face of his mask.
“Second point is mine too,” she laughed as she stepped back. “Are you sure you don’t want to just give up?” He wasn’t even giving up limbs – if this was a tournament, both of her hits would have been “kills,” winning the bout outright.
Under his mask, he chuckled. Things were working exactly as he expected. “Not at all,” he said as he stepped back. “Beginners luck.” He reached down, and before she could say anything, grabbed the waistband of his pants and shucked them down his legs, leaving him in only a cup and groin protector, and his socks and shoes. She noted that he wasn’t even wearing boxers or briefs under the athletic supporter, and from her angle she could see a flash of bare ass cheek.
“But… but…” she stammered. “Your shoes?”
“I’d rather keep those on,” he said, nonplussed. He turned away from her to toss his pants against the wall, and she confirmed that he was, in fact, completely nude under the athletic protector. His butt cheeks were nicely shaped, highlighted by the straps of his protective gear. His legs were nicely muscled, and also coated in a light sheen of body hair.
He turned back to face her, and she was glad that her mask concealed how intently she had been staring. “Are you ready to go again?” he asked as he gave her another salute with his rapier.
“Uhmmm. Yes. Yes, of course,” she said as she returned the salute and adopted a fighting stance.
She wasn’t distracted. She wasn’t staring at his crotch. She absolutely was not letting herself fall into that trap. And yet, as soon as they engaged, he swatted away her rapier blade and thrust into her chest, stabbing right into her left boob, moving faster than she could even notice. He laughed as he stepped back. “I guess that point is mine.”
“Yeah… ouch,” she said as she rubbed her breast, ignoring that she could feel her nipples beginning to get hard. Was she getting turned on from watching him fence her nearly nude? She turned away from him, bending over to unlace her shoes, and he admired her shapely ass through her workout pants. He smiled, and felt himself start to get slightly stiff under his cup, but he turned his thoughts back to the matter at hand before she turned back around to face him, her feet now clad only in a pair of cute, white ankle socks.
“Let’s go,” she said, determined that she wasn’t going to lose another piece of clothing.
She didn’t even bother with a salute before she approached him, her thrusts aimed at his chest, feinting, probing for a weak spot in his defenses. With so much exposed skin, he had to be scared of taking another cut to pretty much anywhere on his body, but he was effortlessly avoiding her attacks, and as her frustration mounted, she completely lost track of his blade. Before she realized it, she felt his rapier against her inner thigh, and then felt him draw it back, scoring a cut.
“I suppose your socks are mine now?” he said, completely failing to conceal the laughter in his voice.
She wanted to stick her tongue out at him, but knew he wouldn’t see it. She had planned to keep her flannel on, but decided to go against his expectations, and quickly peeled it off. She was getting warm in it anyhow, the t-shirt alone would feel better. She ignored that her undershirt was practically sticking to her like a second skin, emphasizing her flat tummy, but more significantly, the full breasts held tight under her sports bra.
Whirling back to face him, she gave a quick salute, and then rushed him, hoping to catch him off guard. A series of feints to his mask gave her the opening she wanted, and she lunged, her long legs sending her forward in a move that should have driven the tip of her blade right into his ribs – a thrust that would have had enough force behind it to leave a nasty bruise even if he had been wearing protective gear.
Or that’s how it should have worked, but her cotton socks slipped against the mat, and she overextended, sliding forward completely off-balance. He almost seemed embarrassed as he brought the tip of his blade down, lightly scoring a touch on her left ass-cheek.
“Point,” he said as he stepped away from her.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to walk away from this match. But pride wouldn’t allow her to do so. She wanted to win. She knew she was better than he was. And she wanted to be the Maestro’s assistant.
Reclaiming what dignity she could, she got back to her feet, reaching down to remove the socks from her sweaty feet. If nothing else, at least the tackiness of her sweat would give her more secure footing, and keep her from having the same kind of opening again.
She stepped back, warily, giving him a salute and then adopting a more defensive stance. She needed to reassess the flow of this fight. She no longer had any “safe” points to lose. Another touch would cost her either her t-shirt or her pants, and while she had her underwear to go after that, she had no desire to be that exposed to him – even if he was prancing around practically naked except for his protective gear and shoes and socks. He could “safely” lose two more points without being any more exposed than he already was. And he didn’t seem to have any shame about being so close to nude.
Not that he had much to be shamed about. If she was going to be completely honest, she was really enjoying the sight – and in any other circumstances, she would enjoy seeing the play of his muscles and the light sheen of sweat on his skin. The way he moved now was so much more fluid and graceful than it ever had been in class, and it made her wonder how he would move in bed…
She shook the cobwebs from her head and began to circle around him, fighting defensively, waiting to see if he would make a mistake and give her an opening. He made several thrusts that were obviously feints, and she ignored them, refusing to be goaded into making an error. A cut at her leg brought her left hand into play, and she swatted at the blade – which suddenly wasn’t there. Faster than her eye could see, he had slipped it under her arm, and then she felt a draw cut right beneath her armpit.
“You’re dead,” he said. “What will it be? Pants or shirt?”
“Augh!” she exclaimed as she weighed her options. Pants were somehow a lot scarier to remove – she felt much more exposed that way. But her t-shirt was long enough that it would still cover her crotch and her ass most of the time. And if he was going to be distracted by the sight of her bare legs, and trying to get a glimpse of her panties, maybe that would give her the opening she needed.
Turning away from him, she reached down to grab the waistband of her workout pants, and she shimmied her way out of them, letting them pool at her feet. She was glad that her mask hid the blush she knew was developing, and hoped that she could pass the flushed skin off as being a result of exertion.
“Nice tattoo,” he commented, referencing the butterfly on the back of her right calf.
She turned back to face him. “Enjoy the look. Because that’s all you’re going to see of it. Or me.”
He chuckled. “Any more ink? Are there surprises there waiting for me under your shirt?”
“You’ll never know,” she said as she once more got into a ready stance. “Come at me.”
She instantly regretted her choice of words, because as soon as she spoke, he was up on her, fighting in close proximity – too close for her to easily maneuver her blade. He was right up inside her reach, and before she could adapt and wrap her blade around him, she felt the cold steel of his blade between her legs, and inevitably the pull back of the cut. The edge of his blade was smooth, but still it stung where he drew it back, and her skin swelled up, angry and red in the wake of his act.
“Your shirt. Now.”
His voice was rigid, like steel, and she felt a dampness between her legs as he ordered her to strip for him. She often was low-key turned on after fighting, but the eroticism of this fight, the sight of his body, and the fact that she was soon going to be exposed to him were all getting her turned on. She was going to need a long session with her favorite vibrating toy when she got back to her apartment. She just was no longer sure if she was going to be thinking about the Maestro – or if she was going to be thinking about him.
She stepped away from him, wanting distance between them, and not to feel the heat radiating from his body. She knew she wouldn’t be able to remove her shirt without also taking off her mask, so she first slipped it off her head. Her hair was sweaty and matted to her head, and her face was flushed. He had never seen her looking sexier, and as she pulled the t-shirt over her head, he delighted in seeing the swell of her breasts trying to escape her navy blue sports bra.
He also noticed that there was the tail of a lizard or a dragon poking out from the bottom part of the bra, and unless he was deeply mistaken, there was the tell-tale sign of a pair of barbells in her nipples, visible through the sports fabric. Looking lower, there was a piercing in her navel as well, and she wore an athletic protector over a pair of sensible light-blue cotton panties. There was nothing “sexy” about the underwear itself, but her legs were long and lightly-muscled, and the view was incredibly alluring.
She glared at him, daring him to speak, and he wisely held his tongue as she replaced her mask.
“You could concede now,” he offered, as she took a fighting stance and stalked towards him.
“No. Chance,” she said as she threw a quick salute at him. He returned it, and before he could get his blade back into an en garde position, she unleashed a flurry of attacks at him, and he felt a sharp pain as the tip of her blade dug into his upper thigh.
He yelped in pain, unprepared for the amount of force she put behind her thrust, and he hopped back, unsure if she was going to make a follow-up attack before they set-up again. Refusing to take his eyes off of her, or to disengage his blade, he held her back at point as he kicked his shoes off.
“You still have nothing else ‘safe’ to lose to me,” he warned. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stop now?”
She shook her head defiantly as she saluted him again. “I’m not stopping until I’ve won and you’re buck-ass nude and humiliated,” she said. “You’re as close to losing as I am.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded as he returned her salute. “Begin.”
This time they were both cautious as they engaged, circling around each other slowly, attacking hesitantly, feinting more often than they attacked, and defenses staying conservative. As they circled, she saw it – a tiny weakness of his step on that left leg where her thrust bruised his thigh. She advanced on him, and as he retreated back on his left, a slight stagger gave her the opening she wanted and then a quick clean thrust tagged him just below the collarbone on his right side.
“My point,” she declared.
He nodded mutely, reached down and pulled off his socks, tossing them to the side of the room.
Her confidence had returned. She could do this. One more point. It was even worth making a sacrifice play if she needed to – a double-kill would still leave him naked while she was in her panties. He’d get to see her tits, sure. But she would win.
She looked him up and down as they engaged, trying to gauge where the best line of attack would be when she noticed it. Beneath his athletic protector – it was impossible to ignore that it wasn’t quite flush with his skin. He was aroused by this – he was getting hard. And while the cup made it impossible to gauge the size of his erection, it had to be sizable enough to push the protective equipment aside.
That moment of distraction was all he needed though. As she was looking at his package, he made a quick step to the side, sending the tip of his blade right at her chest. Somehow he managed to aim it precisely enough that it went under the strap of her sports bra, and as he drew the cut back, she realized that if his blade had actually been sharp, the strap would have been severed, leaving one breast exposed to his gaze.
“And this point is mine,” he said. The desire and arousal in his voice, even muffled by his mask, was unmistakable. And her own arousal was becoming equally impossible to ignore. Even more so as she struggled to remove the sports bra, and as her breasts bounced free, her nipples were rock-hard, the barbell piercings proudly exposed, a green scaly dragon wrapped around the underside of her right breast.
She took a deep breath as she brought her blade back up. They both knew what this final point meant. They each had only a single item of clothing left to lose. Each of them was breathing hard, and she was the first to move, attacking fiercely, creating a wall of steel that was impossible for him to get past.
Except somehow he did, he was back inside her reach. Almost as if in slow motion, she saw his blade descending towards her outer thigh, and she did the only thing she could think to do, knowing she couldn’t possibly get her own blade back around in time.
She punched him. Hard. Right in the face, the leather of her glove making a harsh sound against the screen of his mask. His head rocked back, and she moved. The blow was against the rules, she knew it, but she also knew that she was going to take this final point, and it would be her blade that made the final cut.
She lunged at him, but he wasn’t there, stepping to the side, grabbing her sword hand with his off hand, and wrapping it around her, pressing himself against her bare back. His blade came up, right under her throat, and he placed it on her, the edge against her skin. Her blade hand was completely under his control and she couldn’t move.
Time stopped, and she was acutely aware of everything in that moment. The heat of his body, the slick sweat of their skin, the prickle of his body hair against her smooth flesh. The bulge of his cup against her buttocks, and the unyielding strength of his arms as he held her.
Slowly he drew the blade against her chest, and she knew she was defeated. He had won. Her grip released from her sword, and she surrendered against his grip. He released her, but she stayed there, motionless.
“Take your prize,” she said in a small voice.
His hands came down to her hips, fingers gently sliding under both the athletic protector and her panties, and he pulled them down past the swell of her thighs. As the garments made their way over her knees, he released them, and they fell the remainder of the way to the floor.
As he stood back up, he pressed himself against her, and she realized that he must have removed his cup, because she felt the hard swell of his cock nestled between the cheeks of her ass. His hands came up, the right one taking her breast in hand, his fingers playing with the hardware in her nipple as the other continued its ascent and pulled her mask from her head.
She turned to face him, defeat visible in her eyes, but his own mask was still in place.
“Take me,” she begged. Her own, smaller hands came up to remove the mask from his face, and when she did so, the eyes that she saw looking at her were kindly, even as they shone with hunger and desire.
And without another word, they were moving down, her back against the mat, and with one final thrust of his weapon, the match was sealed, although from the triumphant sounds escaping both their throats, it would be difficult to say definitively who had won.
About the Author
Broken Unicorn has been a writer since he was a child, starting off writing decidedly non-erotic stories about superheroes. As he got older, he started writing erotica about superheroes, before eventually discovering his kinky side and writing about people who could live in the real world. He lives in the midwest, and is happy to live in a very full house that includes four humans and two dogs. He can be found under the profile Broken_Unicorn https://fetlife.com/users/8765084
Reader: I am a female submissive and am relatively new to BDSM. After our first meeting, a Dom I met at a party put a “temporary collar” on me. On our second meeting, he “collared me” and said he wants me to move in and serve him along with another slave. This makes me nervous and he sees it. I do not want to make him mad, but how can someone collar a submissive on the second meeting? How can he ask me to move in after meeting him twice – especially with him having another submissive? Am I wrong to refuse his wishes, even though I might lose him by being “unsubly,” as he called me?
Baadmaster: Yes, it is unusual that a Dom would collar a sub on the second meeting – and it is just as remarkable that a submissive would accept it. This is not to say there is not “collar at first sight.” But, if the chemistry is right, it will be even more right after four meetings – or even five. What’s the rush? If you are being asked to move in, there are a lot of factors to be considered. Collars notwithstanding, you should find out how compatible you are. Just because you like each other for two meetings does not mean you can stomach each other 24/7. Especially when another sub is involved. Meeting twice and living with each other are two entirely different situations. The fact that your potential Master does not grasp this is a big red flag.
Of course, there is no timetable for collaring. It is truly up to the people involved. Notice I said the “people” involved, not just “the Dom/me.” As I have stated many times here on kinkweekly, until you consent to being a Dom’s submissive, you are simply negotiating. On the surface, it would appear that he is “bum rushing” you and short-circuiting the negotiating process. A first-class Dom would not want to bully you into a decision you will later regret.
In fairness, both of you have made errors to this point. By your accepting his “temporary collar,” whatever that means, you were acknowledging that the negotiating period was over and that you were submissive to him – at least in a “temporary” way. Thus, you were paving the way for a quickie permanent collar. What to do?
Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to figure out a way to reverse your acceptance of his collar and get back to the negotiating phase – a period that should last more than two get-togethers. This is not “mission impossible.” The key is to clearly explain that you are interested in his collar, are interested in moving in with him and his submissive and are interested in him as your Master – but only after some more time has elapsed. This will flatter his ego (all Doms liked to have their egos stroked) and put everything into its proper perspective. If he truly wants to be your Master, he will understand that you want to feel completely comfortable with him before you fully submit. Surely any reasonable person would want to meet the other sub.
He has, however, made his task somewhat difficult. I always think that a Dom who uses terms like “unsubly,” “you aren’t a real slave” or some such affront, is treading on shaky ground. It is another red flag. A good Dom/me does not have to use coercion to get his/her way. Similarly, you serve because you want to serve. And threats, insults and fast-collaring are self-defeating techniques. I am not saying he is not the Dom for you. I am stating is that he is not using the right approach to become your Master and get you to move in with him and his slave. Yes, there are some in this community who use the “insta-collar” in order to get a sub off the market as quickly as possible. (I personally know of at least one.) Thus, some caution is advised.
If he listens to you, he will slow down the process and give you time to come over to him. However, if he still tries to intimidate you into a snap decision, then he is probably not the Dom for you. After all, if you’re moving in with him, he had better be someone you want to serve. Not someone who cajoles you into serving. As the saying goes, “Castles made of sand fall into the sea.” And, being pushed into a situation you don’t want is truly a castle made of sand!
I might add, that in the new BDSM world, collars might not have the same significance that they previously had. Still, they should not be used in a way to persuade submissives to do something that ultimately is not in their best interests. Insta-collars usually aren’t worth the faux leather they are made of!
About the Author
After a ten year run as head writer for the legendary bondage.com, and an equally long run as the host of the hit internet show “Baadmaster’s Dungeon,” we are pleased to welcome the one and only Baadmaster to KinkWeekly. His thoughts about all things BDSM will now appear regularly on these pages. From the mental aspects of D/s to the nuts and bolts of S&M play, Baadmaster will cover every facet of this ever expanding lifestyle.
Since it’s the first I’m writing to you this year, Happy New Year! I hope you had a festive turn of the year. Here’s to a happy, healthy and prosperous 2019!
I hope you’ve had the opportunity to read my previous three installments in Kink Weekly and are anxious to move forward with your journey into dominant-centered, service-oriented power dynamics! If you haven’t read them yet, you can click on my name in the by-line above to get links to all of the articles. Read from the beginning!
In November, we saw how each relationship carries attributes that are shared between the partners and that continue within a relationship, regardless of the existence of a power dynamic, or not. In December (in two parts), we discussed how the dominant is given a new right, by virtue of the power transfer; the “Right of Expectation”. We then talked about obligations of both the submissive and dominant, and how different they are. Lastly, we discussed CERAF (Communication, Expectation, Recognition, Assessment, and Feedback); a simple series of steps dominants can use to remain an active and involved participant in the dynamic.We also addressed that, while relationships are two-way streets, submission is a one-way transfer of power. We acknowledge that his makes some worry that the sub’s desires will not be fulfilled and the power dynamic will not be healthy.
So, this month, we take the next step, discussing ways by which dominants can consider the needs of their submissives, while remaining the center of their submission. We will avoid obligating the dominant with anything more than was discussed in the previous articles, while making sure both partner’s needs are being fulfilled.
Before tackling this challenge, we need to take a hard look at the difference between “Needs” and “Wants”. Let’s face it, there are things we want and then there are things we need. We’re humans, and like to be pleased, so often, we call things that we “want a lot”, needs…but they’re not really needs…they’re just things we like a lot, want a lot, and desire a lot. A need is something you really can’t continue (whatever it is), without.
We know we can’t live without food, water, and shelter. While there are many more things we want to live, and there are philosophies built around a hierarchy of human desire, these three are simplistically accepted to be the mandatory needs to live. Relationship needs are a bit more complicated and personal. My friend Jen extended it best, “Needs in relationships are things the relationship cannot survive without. Wants are things that make the relationship more enjoyable.” I find this definition to be perfect for this discussion.
In November’s discussion, we discussed the notion of “Mutual Fulfillment of Needs” as being a fundamental requirement of the underlying relationship layer. If you’re going to have longevity in a relationship, any type of relationship, you’ll likely require that your needs are being met by it. If not, you’ll likely stray from the relationship, or end it altogether. Lack of companionship, lack of caring, lack of love…all may be failures in need that lead to the dilution of relationships.
As I mentioned last month, in a non-power relationship, our “wants” are filled when we communicate them and hope that our partner chooses to fulfill them. We then talked about the imbalance of equity and obligation within a power dynamic, where the Right of Expectation, created by the power transfer,
provides “want-fulfillment” for the dominant. The dominant is given the right to expect and even demand to have their wants fulfilled. The submissive isn’t given the same right. While they don’t lose their right – as a partner in a relationship – to ask for their wants fulfilled – and to seek compromise (just like those without a power dynamic), the power dynamic itself does not provide expectation of “want- fulfillment” for the submissive, as it does for the dominant.
So, what does a sub really “need”? It’s an individual thing, of course, but most subs I’ve met feel a real need to dedicate themselves in service, and / or to yield authority, to their dominant partner. This is usually the core need of what they say they want, although the descriptions of their desires are usually crowded with very specific activities – things they like and want. As dominants, we want to address our partner’s needs, but not feel obligated to do so exactly as specified by the submissive, particularly if were not comfortable with the activities requested. Too often, submissives will lobby to get their descriptive wants in the name of “Mutual Fulfillment”. This often materializes as pressure from the sub against the dominant in the form of a demand or ransom (“I will not serve properly unless I get my wants fulfilled too”), or as a complaint (“You’re not dominating me the ‘right’ way”). This is manipulation based on a false premise. Mutual fulfillment is a requirement of relationships, true…but it’s mutual fulfillment of NEED not WANT!
This is not to say that a submissive has to resign themselves to go without what they want. I’d go so far as to say that subs need to know their dominant partner cares enough about them to consider their wants. If we don’t consider a sub’s wants, it can be interpreted as a lack of caring or a lack of interest; both of which can violate their basic needs and threaten the relationship. As dominants, although our wants become our expectations for our subs, their wants are ours to take under advisement. We must avoid being obligated, as a condition of their submission, to fulfilling their wants, but we need to make sure their needs are addressed through honest and open consideration of them.
OK, so how do we demonstrate consideration for a sub’s wants while retaining the purity and “one- directional” nature of their submission? In my first book, “Uniquely Rika”, I introduced the use of “Treats / Gifts” to address this need, and I’ve seen it connect with hundreds of couples since.
A treat / gift is something given randomly; for no particular reason. It is usually unexpected and never demanded. They are given out of the goodness of the dominant’s heart. There are no quid-pro-quos (a ‘this for that’) with a gift. Gifts / treats are not earned as rewards would be. They’re not due the submissive, there are no obligations to give it. There are no promises, no commitments on the dominant’s part. There is no implied contract. They are given, “just because” – and they send VERY clear messages:
- I’m going to give you something I know you like, but are not demanding or expecting
- This is not owed to you. Your actions cannot obtain a gift, it’s given to you because I just feel like giving it to you. I’m never obligated to do so
- I’m in total control and can give, or take away things you enjoy
- Even though I’m giving this to you, I’m still thinking about our roles and I’m still within the power transfer we have established By using treats / gifts, dominants can freely give their subs what the sub likes and wants. They can fulfill a sub’s wants without worrying about compromising their position of authority, nor of being obligated to serve the sub. As we discussed above, by considering and fulfilling the sub’s wants, the dominant demonstrates that they care about the sub’s happiness – which fulfills a core need. By avoiding obligation (gifts/treats are NEVER owed, promised, earned, or exchanged) the dominant remains in control of the dynamic and eliminates any possible misinterpretation as to who has the right of expectation.
Consider the submissive’s position: When you receive a gift, you feel genuine gratitude. This is how we want the submissive to feel. They didn’t earn it, they didn’t control it, yet they received it. They’re thankful to the only person in control of giving it to them.
It’s worth restating: A critical success factor is that gifts / treats must never become the motivation for submission. If you believe that your sub feels that submission is a means to getting a gift, remove the gift! They must understand that the quality of their submission is always expected to be at the top of their ability, whether they receive gifts or not. The gifts / treats are not compensation, achievements, or rewards. We want our submissives to be motivated by our happiness with their efforts; the dominant- centric focus. If they are motivated by “what’s in it for them”, their submission will never reach a truly useful level.
Wrapping up this month: We’ve identified the dominant’s preferences as the source of the definition of submission to them and discussed the underlying relationship, contrasting it with the additional attributes associated the power dynamic’s layer. We’ve established the roles, responsibilities and obligations of the submissive and how they differ from those of the dominant. We’ve acknowledged that the obligations and responsibilities of all relationships continue, even after the formation of a power dynamic. Additionally, we introduced the sequence of CERAF, and how it demonstrates our active involvement in developing the quality of the submissive’s submission. Lastly, we’ve demonstrated the difference between needs and wants, and discussed how gifts / treats can be used to provide for a sub’s wants without sacrificing the purity and direction of the of the power transfer upon which our dynamic is built. Whew! That’s a lot!
In February’s column, we’ll start to put it all together with a discussion on becoming a better submissive: Something for submissives to strive for and dominants to insist upon. I think you’ll find plenty of New Year’s resolutions to apply!
Ms. Rika is a lifestyle dominant, educator, and author; living in the suburbs of NYC with her husband/slave. She has written several popular books on her approach to adding Dominant-Centric, Service-Oriented D/s to relationships. You can find her books (in both print and eBook formats) at Lulu.com (http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/msrika), or at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, the iStore, Books-A- Million, Kobo.com, or anywhere books are sold. Search for “Ms. Rika”.
The following is an excerpt from my novel PEEPER, which won the 2012 Bondage Award for Best Bondage Story.
(To read the entire novel: Https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0033PSJIE)
Jacek’s cloak went down again and a lesson began in how to properly stretch a hard-used slave.
Preece named every muscle, described how it was being activated, where it connected to tendons and other muscles, how they worked together. He described Peeper’s orgasmic arm and fist clenching and showed Jacek how it caused her entire upper body to hurt, even up the sides of her neck to her temples and down to her chest muscles. He named different organs and where they were in the body and how some could be affected by a beating, pointed out that the lower section of soft tissue below the ribs was untouched by Lord Quye’s beatings.
“The kidneys can be bruised and damaged and are to be avoided with her, at all costs. There are two ribs that are not connected to the sternum in the front. They float here.” His fingertips pressed in under the bottom rib, far enough for Jacek to see but not far enough to cause Peeper pain. “You must be aware of them. A flogger brushing over is one thing. But a solid hit from one, or a cane or whip, is not permitted. The slave can suffer cracked or broken ribs and die from bleeding if a careless strike causes a rib to pierce an internal organ,” Preece said. “I’ve seen it happen and it is not pleasant.”
“How do you know so much about human anatomy?” Jacek asked.
“I have attended and participated in many dissections of corpses. Fascinating stuff if you can get past the stench and the yuck factor. Let her lay still now and rest while you begin a massage.”
Jacek and was disgusted by the thought of a corpse cut open and entrails exposed for digging around in, and resolved never again to ask Preece how he knew anything.
“Peeper is particularly docile and obedient after such a thorough beating,” Preece continued. “She’s going to be very quiet and calm for a couple days. From now on, whenever she is with you, you will have her rest.”
“That doesn’t get much work done,” Jacek said gently rolling his fingertips over the muscles of her arm.
Preece chuckled. “She is to perform no work. She does not so much as carry a blanket unless I tell her to. Her only job is to be at my beck and call and ready to serve me in any capacity I require of her on a moment’s notice. That will be work enough, I assure you. What you see now is much the same as I will require from her and it will be your job and Dohan’s to keep her in need and ready for me.”
“So I can look forward to her being in this condition often?”
“Constantly,” Preece corrected, tracing that particularly angry welt again and smiling when she giggled. “One set will not fade before the next is applied.”
Jacek wondered if that statement was for him or a tease for Peeper. “I must admit that I did not know she was such a beating slave. Even that day in the King’s chamber, I thought that was extreme.”
“That was just a warm up to me,” Preece dismissed. “I am a sadist, Jacek, and a Master of my craft. I like to see the pains I inflict play out in my slave’s body. I derive all manner of pleasures from what I do and the results I get. I adore the slave’s submissions to my will and my desire. I am also very particular about the slave on whom I practice my craft. Precious few are capable of accepting my most intense attentions. Peeper is one of two in Axlar’s court who can serve me to full capacity.”
“The other being?”
“Her name is Orla. She used to be the Queen’s best friend. They were captured by my uncle Pekes and sent together to my father’s stronghold. Mother submitted, Orla did not. She learned the way of pain through discipline and punishment because she continually fought back and tried to escape. Mother learned through love and pleasure.”
“Isn’t that how Peeper learned? Punishment?”
“No,” Preece said, voice dropped to a hush. “Angry violence, not discipline and punishment. Entirely different. She did not earn what he did to her and she did not deserve it and she learned to fear spontaneous bouts of feet and fists she didn’t know if she’d survive. Not the same at all.”
He paused, looking down on her where she lay still and beautiful against the dark brown of Jacek’s cloak. “You have the opportunity to learn a great deal, Jacek. Not of court or the ways of Kings; but of Mastery. I and my brothers; Generals Rigio, Aisus, and Kelen…We are the end all and be all of Mastery in the country of Mida. You may not like to beat your slaves, but you should know the proper ways for it to be done with different implements; and the improper ways so that you can correct someone beating their slave in the street. This you can learn from me and Rigio. You may not like to use a cane, but you should know how to apply it to different parts of the body for your desired effect. Aisus is the utmost authority on the cane and I learned from him. The flogger, with its many tails, can be soft as butter or hard as iron. That is Kelen’s specialty and I was a diligent student. I learned from anyone who had something new to teach about the Way of Pain.”
“And the King?”
Preece smiled a sort of snort. “He’s a spanker. Under his hand, just about any slave can take two hours if he wishes it. You may be one of the Queen’s favored employees, but you have to earn my respect. Sure, you can handle a disobedient cunt like Echie and you carry the rank of Master. But you are very low in that ranking. Not much above Dohan at this point. You have all of two minutes seniority over him.”
He saw Jacek’s unpleasant expression and smiled, plucking a small flower and trailing it down Peeper’s back.
“You expect proper shows of submission and respect and you get it because it is what you demand. She does as you tell her because she knows she will be swiftly and painfully disciplined if she does not. You hold the rank of Master and a dominant position over her, but has she known smiles from you? A small touch of affection? A tiny consideration for her emotions and the internal struggles of every slave? Just a little love?”
Jacek had to think hard, wasn’t sure of either. Couldn’t readily name one instance of either for either Peeper or Echie, except perhaps when he had Peeper select her flowers. He seemed to recall feeling a bit softer toward her that night.
“They all have their struggles. Some hide them better than others. Echie’s are there to be seen every single minute. She holds her heart in her hands. Peeper learned to withhold much. You can see in her eyes what she’s thinking sometimes. But if she doesn’t know how to feel, or if what she’s feeling would earn her a punishment, her eyes are as blank as the wind.”
Jacek knew the truth of that. If Peeper was with someone she trusted, she let that person see everything she was feeling. Her face was expressive to compensate for the lack of tongue.
“Sadism is an art form, the slave a canvas,” Preece continued. “Peeper goes where I say and does as I wish because she knows that she is mine to do with as I choose. And because she wants to. Her submission is mine to command not because I take it from her, as you take with your demands, but because she gives it to me freely. She knows in any group of people who is the highest ranking Master. In this place, I am the unquestioned Master and she gives to me that which she will offer no one else—the very core of her being. She will surrender to me every single thing I want of her, when I want it of her, to the degree I want it. Because she wants to. There is no overhanging threat of discipline as she gets from you. In fact, she has no thought of receiving punishment from me at all. She knows she has only to please me in order to receive my affection and I make myself pleasable.”
He paused, tilting his head to see that she was asleep again. “You demand with sharpness and anger and the slave is relieved to not displease you. What a place that is to reside. I wouldn’t want to live there. I, on the other hand, speak softly and the slave responds with joy to my command and is fulfilled in having pleased.”
He paused again to study the welts and stripes across Peeper’s back. “Demand versus Command, Jacek. That is the difference between one who owns a slave and is called ‘Master’ and one who is Master. Which would you prefer to be?”
Like the snippet? Read the book in Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/PEEPER-Gethis-History-Planet-Book-ebook/dp/B0033PSJIE
** Note about the “avoid the kidneys at all costs” comment by Preece. The character Peeper, at this point in the story, is recovering from near-starvation and is still very thin. Avoidance of the kidneys applies to her as a matter of her personal safety and well-being and is not necessarily applied to all slaves.
** This book won the Best Bondage Story category of the 2012 Bondage Awards.
About the Author
TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty fiction books that you can find on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2
You can find more of her work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828
She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.
As a female who identifies as a submissive and tends to be a little nervous around new people, joining our local community was a challenging experience.
The first time I went looking for it was back in early 2000. I had a kinky partner and we were interesting in learning more, but the only advice we could scrape up at the time came in the form of “check for postings or information at your local adult store that sells BDSM gear.” Well, our kink store had an amazing back room full of leather and cuffs, clothes, clamps, floggers, crops, rope and all sorts of high-quality delights. You had to know it was there and a staff member had to accompany you if they didn’t know you. It seemed obvious that they would know where we could find others like us.
Perhaps they did and chose not to share, but more likely, the others who frequented that room besides us didn’t give them that information. We never saw anyone else back there besides us, but magical new things would appear, like sex swings and tail plugs, and others would be gone when next we’d visit. We never did find the others.
Fast forward to 2017. When Daddy sent me out into the great wide world of the internet searching for others, this time I was a lot more successful. I found Fetlife, which helped me get an idea of what events were offered in our area, and was able to figure out how to meet up with that first munch and progress a little more deeply into our local community.
At first I made individual friends. I met people at parties and munches and once I found a female (because kinky male strangers still made me very nervous) I could converse and relate with, I’d focus on that person and build the beginnings of a friendship. I wasn’t interacting with my community yet much through my writing, and it felt very peripheral.
Once I started writing more of my journal entries online, I began engaging with the online Kink Community a little more actively, though I still held them at a distance in my life. At some point, the exhibitionist in me blended with the helpful parts, and my writing became more personal. I began predominantly using Fetlife as my social media of choice. I found that the conversations I wanted to have and the interactions I desired could occur there, when places like Facebook still struck me as more disingenuous, with sugar-coated moments in time preserved for internet eternity.
But it wasn’t until I began using chat apps that I really connected with the community and made it my family.
The first instance was with three other women I admire, and while our chat had a specific purpose, we found that we often allowed personal and kink-related conversation to be an equal part in it, really helping to bond us all together. I began learning from them, and as I shared myself with them, I believe they also learned from me. I felt connected in a way that I hadn’t before, but since none of them were local, it still limited our interactions.
I found even more community when a nearby friend began a Kik chat with a vetted group of other local community members. The formation of that group was such a positive experience. Every member is personally vetted by chat leaders so that everyone can feel safe sharing as much or as little as they are comfortable with, up to and including photos. As people began to interact with one another, small plans for play began to form. Negotiations happened, sometimes in the group, sometimes separately. The group policed itself and kept members safe. People could experiment and make plans to play together at group events. It was amazing and inspiring to watch.
I attended some community events, not just for this group, buy with other external groups, and discovered I was running into people from this chat rather frequently. I found myself in awe of this organic creation. Somehow this group had managed to overcome my introvert tendencies and I felt comfortable when attending events with them. This was a completely new level of immersion in the community. I found myself less engaged with online kink, but would not miss a day of checking in with the group.
I think for people looking for local friends, mentors and partners, these kinds of chat groups provide opportunities to learn from others. I absorbed so many helpful things from members who had experience in things I hadn’t yet done to help me play more safely. They helped me meet friends who have ended up at our Thanksgiving table and increased my comfort level at opening our home to small events.
I don’t know how many local community groups utilize these apps in those ways, but I can certainly say they have made a huge impact on my personal journey.
About the Author
First, my thanks to those who have continued to inquire about and wait patiently for my long-promised novel to appear. Most of the delay was occasioned by technical problems setting up the website to sell it and transact the purchases.
I’m happy to report that those hurdles have been cleared. You can now by a full PDF copy of The Truth About O at www.truthabouto.com for $23.99, not a bad price for a 900-page saga, all taken from true life episodes documenting the rise and fall of one of the oldest, most legendary Sociétés D’O in Europe. You can check out the beginning of the first chapter at the site free of charge.
For those who didn’t have the opportunity to read the previous excerpts that ran in earlier issues of Kink Weekly this book tells the story of “The League,” once among the most active O-based communities on the continent as experienced through the diaries, emails and interviews assembled by the men and women at the nucleus of the group’s dramatic history.
Centered around a castle outside Vienna, The League provided an environment in which men and women could act out the life of dominance and devotion depicted in Pauline Reage’s taboo-shattering novel, Story of O. Like similar groups in other European countries, The League put its own unique spin on Reage’s narrative, creating what it called “The Philosophy,” a set of rules and rituals by which both the masters and their “Os” (as they preferred to be called) could live out their conceptions of life at Reage’s Chateau d’Roissy.
An extraordinary group of women and men – many of them prominent citizens in daily life – took the tale to new levels of intensity, described in their own words through reams of correspondence.
As we get to know Sabrina, Fabienne, Lila, Federico and Alexander better and better through their own words we cannot deny both our similarities to them and our differences from them. They present us with an amazing and often disturbing funhouse mirror of our own ideas and practices as we pursue our paths through the looking glass of BDSM.
The result challenges all our received ideas about what a life profoundly dedicated to a kind of sexual feudalism, under which ownership and responsibility are inextricably bound, might be like. By turns powerfully erotic, unpredictably humorous and ultimately suspenseful, Truth About O takes readers down the path of what the community called “The Dark Lust,” a powerful desire for ever more intense and extreme D/s experiences.
Much of the journey will shock American sensibilities, as we learn about the stark differences between what we think of as consensual sex play and what The League’s members viewed as a demanding dedication to a set of ideas about sex, loyalty and courage. It is a journey that takes us outside our comfort zone of elegant parties and sensual exploration to extremes where the line is blurred between the pursuit of mutual pleasure and the irresistible need for ever-more-risky adventure.
If ever a book could be described as “not for the faint-hearted,” this is surely it. That all those who lived to tell of the ecstatic highs and harrowing lows of life at and around The Castle share with us their most intimate experiences of The Dark Lust is a strange gift unlike any other saga of sexual exploration we’re likely to encounter It manifests the power to change the way we think about who we are and what we do by admitting us to an alternate universe resembling our own and yet shockingly different in so many ways.
Ultimately, it is both an arousing and sometimes amusing collection of shared experiences at the edge of what we consider “edge play” and a harrowing, cautionary, true story of what can happen when exotic fantasy clashes with the harshness of real life at its most cruel and corrupt.
Our eloquent, insightful narrators leave us with more questions than answers – as much as we can ask of any non-fiction book that addresses the deepest contradictions of human nature.
There is beauty here, and also peril. If you choose to join The League for a few hundred pages, be prepared for the BDSM ride of a lifetime.
A Brief Introduction to Life in the League
What was it like to be an O under the ownership of The League’s masters and Mentors? One of the many gifts passed on by those who had the experience is this document, given to all women entering the community for the first time. It is a tantalizing taste of “The Philosophy” under which masters and Os alike chose to live their lives.
TO MAKE YOUR STAY AT WINDHOF CASTLE MORE PLEASANT
The Rules of the O
The Os are to treat the gentlemen in The Castle with respect.
The O ‘s are to address the gentlemen with “Sie,” the formal address for “you, ” unless given permission to do otherwise.
The O is to lower her eyes while in the presence of the gentlemen in The Castle.
The O always sits at the feet of her master, unless it is otherwise permitted.
The Os never participate in the masters’ conversation unless instructed. Among themselves they keep essential communications to a minimum and convey them in whispers.
Every O in The Castle is always available to every gentleman for unrestricted sexual use. Outside of The Castle, their master or their Mentor decides whether and by whom the O may be used. Under no circumstances does the O make this decision for herself. The Os shall serve the men in The Castle with drinks, food, or other amenities unless already carrying out a master’s prior orders.
The Os in The Castle wear either the simple, white dress of the novice or remain completely naked. Shoes or any other clothing are permitted only at the discretions of the gentlemen.
For les soirées the dress rule is extended to require the wearing of the regulated O garments. Shoes and stockings are permitted only with approval of the master or the Mentor.
Outside The Castle, the O wears clothing the master or the Mentor deems appropriate.
Articles of clothing which are never allowed:
Any type of undergarments: slips, bras, panties or anything else that covers her intimate parts. Stockings, pants, skirts or dresses of hems below the knee line are also prohibited.
Os are to avoid any clothing that hinders rapid access to the breasts, the genitals or the ass.
The O shall never cross her legs and should always hold her thighs a hand’s breadth apart. Her lips should remain slightly parted at all times.
The O shall always wear a collar and/or The Ring of the O inside The Castle confines as well as in public at all times, except if the master or the Mentor specifically allows otherwise. If a gentleman outside of The Castle recognizes the significance of The Ring of O, he has the right to use the O as he pleases. If she is alone at the moment, meaning if she is without her master or her Mentor, the O is to immediately contact her master or Mentor. The master or Mentor has the right to ask by whom, how much, in what way, where, and how long the O is to be used. The maximum period allowed for such use is twelve hours, unless otherwise negotiated between the men.
Staying at Windhof Castle
Os who spend more than twenty-four hours at Windhof Castle without their Masters are required to be sexually available to any master or any Mentor at any given time. The use of the Os for service and/or any other work on the estate or in The Castle must be ordered by their master and approved by the appropriate Mentor.
The freedom of movement of the Os is generally restricted to the east wing. Entering the west wing is permitted only with express permission and during soirées.
The O shall perform all work assigned at Windhof Castle without any objection, whether outdoors, in the kitchen or in the office. The O shall wear the dress of the novice only if complete nakedness would be inconvenient. Shoes may be worn only if expressly ordered. This rule applies to the entire estate in all weather and during all seasons.
Herr Herrmann is in charge of the delegation of the Os rooms. These rooms may never be locked. Every O must be accessible and ready at any time of the day.
The duration and schedule of activities during the stay at Windhof Castle are the decisions the Mentors and the master of the O.
In principle, the master or Mentor should never need to punish an initiated O. If this becomes necessary due to failure on the part of the O, the following basic rules will apply:
- The whip shall be the primary punishment.
For this, the O is chained between the two wooden posts of the inner courtyard of The Castle. She shall always be completely naked, no matter what time of day, what season, or what the weather is like.
Other means of punishment:
Crops and similar tools may be employed for the bastinado.
A stay in the basement dungeon.
Sexual use by one or more of the workers or servants of The Castle.
Naked marching or being part of a work crew on The Castle grounds.
If the above-mentioned list of punishments is not considered sufficient, a gentleman or Mentor may consult the Mentors’ council, which will examine the offense, listen to both the side of the O as well as that of the gentleman and will then determine an appropriate punishment.
All of the above-mentioned measures can, of course, be demanded regardless of the need for punishment. The masters, Mentors, gentlemen and guests may employ such techniques entirely for their own pleasure. Disobedience is always met with punishment but punishment may also be inflicted when no offense has been committed.
The goal of the initiation of an O is for her to learn to follow the rules of Windhof Castle and that apply to the philosophy of the O. The gentlemen, as well as the Mentors, but above all, the Os must honor these rules to the best of their abilities, be of sound mind and of legal age to participate in such activities or have such things done to them.
The goal of the initiation of an O is to formally give her over to her master fully and willingly. By wearing the ring, the O surrenders complete control to her Master.
The purpose of The League is to satisfy erotic desires in accord with the Philosophy of O. All measures, actions and events happen under the mutual understanding of all participants, and all must abide by the requirements of Windhof Castle.
About the Author
For over forty years Ernest Greene has been one of the most prominent figures in the BDSM scene as a writer, an activist, a filmmaker and a participant. During that time he has witnessed and contributed to the evolution of a once small and isolated sub-culture to a thriving and vital part of the larger society’s erotic life.
Greene is a longtime member of the Los Angeles BDSM community, joining Threshold when it was still an affiliate of The Society of Janus. He served six terms as Threshold coordinator between 1989 and 1995. He continued to do orientations for new members thereafter and has participated in numerous outreaches to academic groups as well as presenting at national BDSM events including Thunder in the Mountains in Denver, Colorado and GWNN in Austin, Texas.
Since 1985, Greene has concentrated his efforts mainly in adult entertainment and adult sex education, serving as Executive Editor of the best-selling fetish magazine Hustler’s Taboo since 1999. Greene founded the also founded the highly successful all-artwork spin-off Taboo Illustrated, now in its 72nd issue.
As well, Greene, has participated in the production of adult video for three decades as a performer, writer, director and producer. His body of work comprises over five hundred titles, including AVN award winners Strictly for Pleasure, Mask of Innocence, Tristan Taormino’s Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women and Jenna Loves Pain. With his wife, Nina Hartley, he has served as producer and director of the Nina Hartley’s Guide series of adult sex education programs for video market leader Adam&Eve Pictures. The series has sold over three quarters of a million videos to date and now comprises forty titles. His own erotic features for Adam&Eve, O – The Power of Submission, Surrender of O and The Truth About O have thus far seen sales nearing 100,000 units, making them among the biggest selling X-rated feature titles in recent years.
Most recently, Greene authored a new novel, Master of O (Daedalus Publishing), reinventing the BDSM classic Story of O set in modern Los Angeles and told from the master’s point of view. Available in a variety of formats, including a deluxe illustrated version, from Masterofo.com and Stockroom.com, it has been highly praised for its insightful reinterpretation of Pauline Reage’s groundbreaking work of erotic fiction.
It was through contacts inspired by his own novel that Greene came to know the Austrian group modeled on Reage’s Chateau de Roissy, thus obtaining the remarkable non-fiction record of its rise and fall as depicted in The Truth About O, a dark and fascinating series of personal accounts from those who participated directly in that organization’s revelatory and often shocking history.