Don’t miss Morgan Thorne going over how to keep kink alive during the pandemic!
Click below to find out more!
BDSM articles ideas bondage erotica resource
Don’t miss Morgan Thorne going over how to keep kink alive during the pandemic!
Click below to find out more!
By Dexx 2 Comments
Bodybuilder marries sex doll!
Click below to find out more about their story from GruntStuff!
Check out this scientific study that outlines certain psychological traits that can be found in kinksters!
Click below to read more from PsyPost!
BDSM requires being present and mindful at all times.
With this being said, check out this awesome article connecting meditation and BDSM from Mashable!
Click below to learn more!
Have some kinky news to share? Tell us about any upcoming BDSM events, new products, dungeon openings / closings, kink in mainstream media, and anything else you think kinky folks might be interested to hear about. Send your tips through to kinkweekly@gmail.com, and it might just end up on next week’s “This Week in Kink.”
By TAC 2 Comments
The More Things Change, They Stay the Same
“I have problems with the way in which the distinction between ‘Old Guard’ and ‘New Guard’ is sometimes deployed. While there are many differences between leather/SM as it was practiced in the 1950’s and as it is practiced today, the shorthand terms can exaggerate and oversimplify our past and present.
Most of the alleged differences popularly thought to differentiate ‘Old Guard’ and ‘New Guard’ – formality versus informality, strict etiquette versus a more casual style of social interaction, deliberate training versus less organized acquisition of skill and knowledge – are more a matter of degree than absolute distinctions.” (Old Guard, New Guard; Cuir Underground; Gayle Rubin; 1998)
Even though this was published 23 years ago, it is as true today as it was then. Just change the terminology from “Old Guard” and “New Guard” to “New Guard” and “The New Generation.” Nothing which is being done today, is new. It has come full circle back to the beginning of Leather and kink in the 50’s and 60’s. Not quite back to the free for all and burgeoning organization(s); more of an organized chaos where there is less emphasis on exclusive organization and more on the individual and the sharing of information. Leather, both organized and unorganized, was near the beginning of a more overt kink culture in the United States. Their ideas, culture, and some of their traditions are still defining our journeys today, whether we want to admit it or not.
The Spirit of Kink Preserved
“All through this Handbook I will be at great pains to point out that much of what I have to say is opinion….. Your reaction may be entirely different, and your desires may exceed or fall short of the action I describe. This is exactly as it should be. No one – Larry Townsend or anyone else – can even begin to set the standards for your sexual needs and/or behavior.” (The Original Leatherman’s Handbook; Larry Townsend; 1972) This was the spirit of kink from the beginning which still pervades today. That there was not and will not be one way, one true way, or one way to be/conform to. Kink has been and still is a rare bastion of freedom in a world where everything we do from the wearing of socks to what shop we buy our coffee from becomes scripted.
If you are interested in, or are part of, a clan/house/family in BDSM you most likely have agreed to a structure and set of rules to be part of that organization. All well and good. However, all of that is dependent on being in the organization. Not kink, not Leather, not BDSM. It is their way, and possibly yours. I am not arguing against organizations, only saying that the structure and rules, are not kink dependent, they are organizationally dependent. Kink is its own animal; wild, untamed, and free. How it is expressed by the multitudes is up to each individual which can include a thousand rules, or none at all.
There Are No Magical Answers – Only History
There is still a lot of debate regarding what, if anything, the “Old Guard” was. I hear some people talk today about how they are like the “Old Guard.” How, if three generations back they were confused as to what it really was? Guy Baldwin, in a speech he gave in Tacoma, WA (September 20, 2014) referred to the subject by characterizing it as the, “….single most troublesome, misunderstood, divisive, and distracting issue to bedevil our leather world, and for succeeding generations: of course, I refer to The Old Guard.” (Full text of the speech available here Old Gods Die Hard | by Leatherati | Leatherati Online)
Even Jack Rinella stated he was a relative latecomer to Leather (circa late 70’s). Having done research into this subject himself he freely opined he had a hard time pinning down what the, “Old Guard,” was and he was much closer to the source than we are today.
They did not refer to themselves as, “Old Guard,” and by admission (through available essays and writing) many who were around in that era freely stated it was chaotic, a jumble of expectations getting loosely defined by organizations which began to form over time. Feeling their way through life, just as we are now. Figuring it out as we go along. There was no roadmap to help them preordain the way it would turn out as many historians would like us to believe.
Yet, there are many aspects of that era which survive today and things which we have added along the way. This forms an ever-evolving way of looking at and practicing kink. Where there was once S/M now there is BDSM which was not coined until decades later. Where safety and accountability were certainly mentioned in points of S/M history; Safe, Sane, and Consensual became a watch phrase born in the early 80’s. Early on there were not even Tops or bottoms let alone Dominants/Masters and submissves/slaves. All of this evolved through time. Much of which during can be considered in the, “New Guard,” era. If there is such a thing.
Even through evolution, the best ideas and values seem to survive.
Honesty and Integrity: “Real Leatherman keep their word: they do not borrow or lend money; they conduct their affairs with honor and integrity – they don’t lie.”
Recognition of experience: “Experience in the Scene determines social seniority (Top or bottom), not age, not size, not amount of leather worn, and not offices held in organizations, awards received or titles won.”
Courtesy: “….all are expected to observe rules of social courtesy – bad manners are inexcusable and can lower one’s status in the Scene….”
(The Old Guard History, Origins and Traditions; Drummer Magazine; Late 80’s; Guy Baldwin)
These are just a few examples of values set early on in the kink scene, which survive today. A quasi roadmap which did not exist in the 50’s. At least today, we have these bits and parts to lean on as a tacit guide. We may not be standing on the shoulders of giants, but path was certainly forged for us (and still is being forged) by some rather brave individuals.
Without their contributions to kink and the Scene, we may not have some of the generally accepted values today. Those values and contributions, in my opinion, are what lead people today to have a certain reverence for the past, keep us guessing about what it was really like, and if we are doing it “right” today.
Does it really matter?
Yes….. and no. It matters if you are like me; who understanding where we came from, can help inform us why we are the way we are today. If you are one who just likes to forge ahead without putting a whole like of pondering into it, maybe not. But those basic values and concepts which run through our community such as respect, courtesy, honesty, integrity, safety, etc inform our lives and the way we practice kink. Even for those who may not realize (or care about) how it all began.
Lessons hopefully passed on and learned; some traditions preserved and better ways of doing things being thought of every year and incorporated; and a spirit of freedom are at the heart of what it is that we do. An oral (sometimes written) history. Knowledge passed from the older generation to the younger in hopes they will carry the torch and keep improving on it. Some of the changes over the years have chapped my ass. But that is the nature of change and, “The New Generation,” certainly has the right to live kink in a way that makes the most sense for them.
We have a more conscious way for kink which fits with this era. One which is much more inclusive, much more safety conscious, and dare I say, much more, “out.” I cannot say the last decade has been entirely comfortable for me since the release of Fifty Shades of Grey (2011) popularized kink, but it has been certainly exciting, as well as exhausting. I look forward to the developments coming in the next ten years.
Note: For more information on the authors referenced in this article, please visit the links included below (in order of reference):
Gayle Rubin – Gayle Rubin – Wikipedia
Larry Townsend – Larry Townsend – Wikipedia
Guy Baldwin – Guy Baldwin – Wikipedia , Guy Baldwin – Leather Hall of Fame
Jack Rinella — Jack Rinella’s Home Page (leatherviews.com)
By Dexx 2 Comments
Want something sexy to read?
Then, check out these BDSM books from Cosmo!
Unfortunately, The Sex Work Industry is still heavily stigmatized.
With this being said, check out this informative article on how the media is perpetuating the negative view of sex work.
Click below to find out more from Dazed!
Learn about cultural misogyny and why we should care about it from The Conversation!
Click below to find out more!
Have some kinky news to share? Tell us about any upcoming BDSM events, new products, dungeon openings / closings, kink in mainstream media, and anything else you think kinky folks might be interested to hear about. Send your tips through to kinkweekly@gmail.com, and it might just end up on next week’s “This Week in Kink.”
Seems like such a mundane thing to have as a hard limit, doesn’t it? Cuddling after sex or play.
I get this attitude every time the topic of aftercare comes up. Doesn’t matter if I’m the bottom. Doesn’t matter if I’m the top. Doesn’t matter if I’m the dom. Doesn’t matter if I’m the sub.
They ALWAYS mean cuddling. I mean ALWAYS. It’s never about food and drink. Never about tending wounds. It’s always about being trapped against another human being long after my need for close contact is concluded.
When I say I don’t cuddle, people automatically assume I must be some callous, mean-spirited, abusive ghoul. They personally have to have the cuddles, so anyone who won’t do that (even though we’re never going to meet, let alone play) is the worst villain in the world. End of story.
Here’s the thing…there is a story behind it, if only they’d see past their own personal snit to listen.
Not once has anyone ever asked me why I don’t like to cuddle. I’m a very horrible terrible person and that’s the end of it. There are no valid reasons as far as they are concerned.
But, yeah, there are reasons. Very serious, horrific reasons. In order to comprehend how pervasive it is, take this moment to set aside any indignation over the very thought that someone doesn’t like to cuddle with other adult human beings. (Cats and dogs are fine. I’d love a bunny, too. Or a ferret. Hell, even a cuddly snake would be great.)
My reason starts with the molestation I endured for years as a child. Being trapped on the bed, unable to escape him or that nightmare. Not allowed to leave the bed until he’d done what he was going to do to me that day and let me go. There was no fighting him. He was much bigger than I was at the start. He just picked me up and carried me into his room. The cousin trusted to babysit me and his younger brother while his mother and sisters went to the grocery store, which always took two or more hours. It ended when my mother and I moved closer to my school and I no longer had to go to my aunt’s house every day Monday through Friday.
Flash forward to my first husband, who I was with from 1987 to 2000. He would demand that I remain in the bed with him after sex. “Cuddle with me!” he would say in this pleading, childish whine. It may have been cute at first. After years of it, I hated that phrase. At the time, I could not vocalize my dislike. I just didn’t much like to cuddle.
I was literally trapped in his arms, forced to remain regardless how I felt about it. He was good at back-handed guilt trips and getting angry if I tried to stand up for myself and not do something he was badgering me into. There was no winning. Even if I won and didn’t have to cuddle, I lost because he would be angry for hours.
I had to endure it until he started snoring. Close, hot space, sweaty bodies (gross), being breathed on when my skin was already insufferably over-sensitive.
I hated every second of it. I still do. If a guy flogs and fucks me well enough that I want to cuddle, he needs to mark his belt, put a notch on the bedpost, and make a note in the calendar to celebrate the anniversary next year.
Once he started snoring, I could extricate myself from the bear trap and get some space. I could be alone for the rest of the night if he stayed asleep.
Would it have been different if I’d never suffered through four years of sexual abuse? I don’t know. I can never know, so I don’t dwell on it. This is who I am and people have to take me as I am. They cannot change me to suit themselves, and that wouldn’t be fair of them anyway.
Not wanting to be trapped in a place I no longer want to be doesn’t make me a horrible person.
“Gosh, maybe you should go to therapy and fix that!” I can hear someone saying.
Why? To appease people I’m not in a relationship with? So no one has to suffer the thought that someone else isn’t like they are? No amount of therapy in the world is going to change the fact that I don’t like to be touched after sex and/or play, or that I want to be left alone when we’re done. I don’t need that type of pseudo-connection and manufactured closeness in order to be content.
Another mundane thing that is a hard limit with me is performing fellatio, and for the same initial reason: Molestation I endured as a child.
Over the years, it’s become harder and harder to do. I’m at the point where I cannot bring myself to put my mouth on the genitals. I have zero desire to do so. Rather the opposite. I have complete aversion to the very thought.
I’m really good at fellatio. I used to be able to do it for quite a long time with my first husband, until my jaw ached and I could barely move it. With the second husband, it slowly became impossible. We talked about it many times. He understood. He didn’t tell me to do it very often. He understood when I couldn’t do it for more than a few minutes. He knew it was a thing he was not qualified to fix.
“Gosh, maybe you should get some therapy to fix that!” I can hear someone saying.
Yes, the horror of a woman refusing to suck dick. It must be fixed! All those poor men whose dicks she’s not sucking! THINK OF THE POOR DICKS!
I don’t feel a need to go to therapy just so I can tolerate a sexual act I get no pleasure in performing. It’s not a crime against nature that I don’t want to do it. It’s my choice. Consent and all. I do not consent to giving head, and I’m okay never giving head ever again in my life.
That doesn’t make me a horrific monster either. I’ll still fuck a dude right off the bed.
While I won’t perform oral, I do give an intense round of fucking. I consider that a good trade off, especially when they wear themselves out and can’t satisfy my need for orgasms. See, that’s another lingering effect of having been molested for years. I LOVE to fuck. I’m all about the penetration. Hard fucking, long fucking, bodies pounding together so hard that people on the other beds stop to watch and applaud when I’m finally done and the people next door light up a smoke.
I’d call that a good alternative.
So, Dear Reader…When someone says a seemingly mundane, everyday common thing is a hard limit, rather than drawing a judgment against that person maybe you should ask if they will share the why of it. Maybe take a moment to realize that there might be a deeply personal and private pain behind that hard limit. Understand the why and accept the person for who they are. Realize it’s not the end of the world if you don’t get that thing, and take what they offer as an alternative.
Their limit isn’t about you.
It’s about them.
——-
TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She has over 30 years of experience in d/s relationships. She is also an award-winning author who has written three “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty seven fiction books.
Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2
You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828
WordPress – https://dametylerrose.wordpress.com/
Twitter — https://twitter.com/DameTyler or @DameTyler
Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/tylerroseauthor/
She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.
Even as some states are lifting lockdown restrictions, there are some digital aspects of the pandemic I hope stick around. Telegram has been an awesome way to connect my local community, and this time has spawned a web of chat rooms with a variety of subject focuses, as well as chats for various local groups to just talk about their day or discuss random kink topics. Additionally, while there is no substitute for trying things in person, I have attended some truly excellent kink educational events via Zoom over the past year. For classes ranging from consent and negotiations to first aid for BDSM, all the way to a class on face needles, the Zoom camera gave me access to a much better view of some of the up-close details I wasn’t often able to see when attending class in a dungeon. Additionally, it has meant I could attend classes held in other communities with the click of a button, despite being hundreds of miles away.
Unfortunately, these new accounts and technological connections also give additional opportunities for kinksters to slip up and disclose more personal information than intended. My goal is to help walk y’all through some small privacy precautions that will hopefully keep you from flashing full names to the kink world at large.
I often see newcomers join Telegram making a couple of key mistakes. The first is using their name rather than choosing a screen name. The “name” option is your display name, not the @tag people will use to search you. If you plan to use it for vanilla purposes, you can choose something innocuous. If not, I suggest disabling search functions so contacts in your phone who are already users of Telegram or who join later won’t run across your kinky self chatting up a storm.
So here’s how. Under settings, go to the “privacy and security” tab. Under phone number, check “Nobody” can see you and only people you add to Telegram as contacts can search you that way. Under the main tab, turn off the function to sync contacts from your phone, as well as the one to suggest frequent contacts. I also advise selecting the option to delete already synced contacts if it has done this without you realizing it. For phones, you can edit your display name by clicking the three dots on an Android phone. Choose a display name that isn’t your vanilla first and last name. As an additional suggestion, consider listing your preferred pronouns.
For Zoom, prior to joining a meeting, make sure any identifying information you don’t want to share is edited first. To change your display name from your full legal name, go to the “My Account” tab. Click on “edit” and change your name. IMPORTANT: Don’t forget to change it back. My family knows what I do for a living and wouldn’t blink an eye if I joined a chat as Christmas bunny, but if my fet name were 69slutpuddle69, I suspect my family might have something to say. My employer might have even more to say.
Alternatively, have a separate kink email address and Zoom account that you log into for kink events. Again, don’t forget to log out, or just make sure not to click the check box asking if you want to stay logged in. It requires thought and consideration to protect yourself digitally. While mistakes can happen, it is important to be deliberate and careful if you want to avoid accidentally outing yourself.
When I host Zoom events for kinksters, I always watch the waiting room tab so that if someone forgets, I can edit their name for them to an innocuous first initial. You can usually edit your own name during a Zoom meeting my clicking on the three options dots on the right hand corner of your own video screen, or through the participants window when it is pulled up.
Unfortunately, not everyone who hosts a meeting will have experience doing so, and the delay in response time means more minutes passing with your full name exposed to people you didn’t intend to share that with.
Please, please, please take the time to learn how to be safer online, whether or not these digital mediums continue to flourish in the future.
Christmas bunny has been exploring kink since she was legal to do so. Her serious writing started in college, where she accidently got some of her papers published in educational journals. She has recently expanded her writing to include her kink journey. She began writing in the physical realm, but shed some of her inhibitions and began sharing those entries with others. She now keeps an active blog of her personal growth and her relationship with her Master / Daddy Dominant and writes helpful educational posts on a variety of subjects.
Some people seem to think that the job of the safe caller is not all that important. “It’s just what you would normally do, letting someone know where you are” is an attitude I’ve recently seen.
That is wrong. Painfully wrong. Dangerously wrong.
The purpose of a safe caller isn’t just so someone knows where you are; the other person knows you have back up; or to calm your nerves while waiting.
Yes, those may be aspects of the job. I’ve been all three of those things, because the safe caller is whatever the person going to the meeting needs them to be. Most of the time, those things are all that is needed.
The ultimate purpose of a safe caller, however, is to call the police to rescue your ass if shit goes sideways.
I know a great many wonderful people. I would not, however, pick the biggest flake to be my safe caller. Or the one I know is not good under pressure or in emergency situations. If I wouldn’t trust them to watch a puppy for the weekend, I’m not going to trust them with my life.
In fact, I have asked someone with whom I wasn’t particularly friends, because I knew she’d do the job well if shit went bad on me.
The person you select must be calm in the midst of crisis. They must be confident when speaking to authority figures, and even a little pushy about getting their point across. They must know how to efficiently give the facts without paragraphs of unnecessary information.
They must be capable of dealing effectively with 911 personnel to convey your location and the situation and get help to you as quickly as possible.
It doesn’t have to be a ten point plan, but the use of a code word can be very helpful. Say the code word is deuces. You say “Is everything deuces?” If the person on the date repeats the word back to you “Yeah, it’s totally deuces!”, shit’s gone bad and they need help. If they don’t use the word “Yeah, everything is great”, all is well.
This is a serious job.
They must not hesitate to make that call if the code word is used.
They must not fail you.
Anyone will do if you’re a little nervous waiting for the other person to arrive and are texting to fill the time.
We are talking about your personal safety. If they’re not ready, willing, and capable of calling 911 for you, should it go bad, then that person is not a safe caller.
In case you do not know…
To call 911 in a city not your own, you must know the area code for the person’s location.
Dial 1- (area code) – 911
TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She’s been doing this BDSM stuff for over 30 years in private and more than 12 years in public venues.
She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and over 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
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/
FB Regular page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor
She enjoys crochet, coffee, and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.
By Dexx 2 Comments
India gets its first legal sex shop!
Click below to learn more from Outlook!
Pastry chef turned Dominatrix?
Click below to find out more of her story with Daily Star!
It’s so imperative that people know the difference between BDSM and abuse. The two are quite different.
BDSM always involves consent. Abuse involves unwanted, non-consensual behavior.
Click below to read more from The Conversation!
Have some kinky news to share? Tell us about any upcoming BDSM events, new products, dungeon openings / closings, kink in mainstream media, and anything else you think kinky folks might be interested to hear about. Send your tips through to kinkweekly@gmail.com, and it might just end up on next week’s “This Week in Kink.”
You don’t need a D-type to wear a collar!
Click below to learn more about self-collaring from the amazing Evie Lupine!
By eve 2 Comments
It had been hours since the night had begun. Her head was bowed ad her eyes closed. Did she know she was a fairy? A mess of amber waves sprung from her head. I imagined it all pulled back for a day job in a downtown office tower. A curvy goddess disguised and contained in a white blouse and black pencil skirt every day. And when the moon was waning, the goddess emerged.
“She is fucking ethereal,” I commented to no one in particular. I watched the others as they cheered and jeered at Beanpole’s performance. It was the strangest thing all of a sudden. I could smell food. At the bottom of the stairs was a small table with a selection of vegetables, fruit an assortment of hor d’oeuvres. I had to contain my urge to laugh here. I was in the middle of an erotic rollercoaster, watching things unfold, and there were snacks. Was the plan to stop and have a break before the final slave was auctioned for the evening. It struck me as odd that no one else seemed to notice that food had appeared. On the far wall, she stood and fidgeted, stretching her feet as though she was about to go up onto her toes. She was utterly indifferent to the funky music and dancing Sissy just six feet away from her. It seemed like she was separate somehow in a world all her own unaffected by the evening events. She didn’t look around the room, hoping to catch anyone’s eye. She didn’t play with her clothing or flick nervously with her fingers. Her makeup was still creating a mask and holding her most authentic self behind shiny blushed cheeks, long eyelashes and rosy lips. Her skin tone was muted, and she grabbed the last sun-kissed freckles of summer. Her tan lines we’re from a modest bathing suit but defined enough that you could have drawn an outline for some version of the emperor’s new clothes. She was comfortable in her own skin and indifferent to those around her. She was very unusual and carried herself considering she had agreed to be a sex slave for the evening.
Lotti was the only one left to be bid on for the evening. It has been an entirely civil night of sensual and sexual indulgence. Not a bawdy orgy of arms, legs, sweat and bodily fluids choreographed o pleasure. I had no information about her in my book. Unlike the others who were a caller, she had a 2-inch green satin ribbon tied in a bow at the back of her neck. She didn’t have a curd with her “hard no” list attached to it.
A pair of soft green panties looked so odd in this cavern of dim light and sensuality. It was just panties, but these panties told a story. Her being told the story of being wise enough to not sell it but coy sufficient to be enticing. This was a woman who knew how to get her way without saying a word. The green shimmer of mother of pearl captured in satin and threads of silver through the lace complimented her smooth, taut skin. The lace detail dipped to the top of her pubis, drawing the eye to the Aladdin’s cave of wonder, veiled behind the flawless green satin. The satin was gathered, not tight or worn, almost as though it floated above her skin. My sex twitched with the thought of running a nail along the edge of those panties. Imaging my face against her thigh, blowing cool air over the satin until I raised goose pimples on her creamy sun-tanned skin or a moan of pleasure from her throat.
I was happily doodling in the margin when the auctioneer came to the centre of the room.
“Slaves and Masters, tonight or cave of indulgence offers a rare treat indeed.” He walked over to the wall, slid his hand behind Lotti’s back and escorted her to the centre of the room. She walked. He spoke, “this tantalizing being offers a unique and special opportunity for everyone here this evening. Lotti is here to fulfill a fantasy. Not to be taken lightly, I have assured her of the ultimate erotic journey. Lotti has entrusted me to invite you to heighten her senses and bring her to rapture.”
The crowd was audible in its delight. With all master’s permission, we would like the slaves to be released to participate freely. However, if a master cares to choreograph and direct a particular slave to participate in what is to be offered, that is acceptable. The hard limits are no marks, no toys, check-in before penetration and safe words green, yellow, and red.
“the fantasy is simple. Our darling Lottie would like to be restrained, blindfolded and delighted. She has been pampered, oiled and made ready for a banquet of delights which we offer to you. All I could think was he has to stop talking this way because it’s way too weird. However, when I looked around the room, it was apparent, he was spinning a web that would draw in every willing participant. The question was, what Ds would play or who would run free?
He motioned me to come to him. The caftan-wearing auctioneer squeezed Lottie’s bottom. She squeaked and hopped a little. Quietly I was told to take the two male slaves to the other side bring the double bed to the middle of the room, placing the casters and their wooden blocks. Ensure the four-point restraints were easily accessible and that a clean satin sheet was placed over the waterproof covering. I was to put a black satin scarf, a hair elastic, massage oil, lube, 2 sizes of condoms and an assortment of arousal items on the folded table draped with a heavy carpet. I took the two male slaves by their lead and escorted them to the other side. I undid their leads and gave them a set of instructions. Leaving them to their own devices, I went up to the fridge and grabbed a case of water. Without prompting, I grabbed a tray of ice, a small bowl, and a clean dish towel as well. The ice was because I wanted the opportunity to torture and pleasure those beautiful blush nipples. The mere thought of tracing her areola with the ice followed by my warm, soft tongue encircling her nipple as it rose made me blush. I envisioned her in my mouth and sucked wantonly. The vision of her drawing away from the cold and then arching upwards silently asking for more as the ice melted away and my hot mouth feasted on her luscious mound. I longed to have her for myself to open her wide and taste her sweetness. To let my tongue moisten and massage her sex, sucking her hard clit into my mouth and wildly flicking her to orgasm with my tongue. The mere thought of it made my nipples hard, and my cunt twitch.
Adjusting my clothing and taking a moment to bring myself back, I went back to the basement and distributed the water to everyone. Our host had explained that the same rules applied as always. Safe, sane, and consensual whether it’s a party of 1 or 10, everyone is safe, everyone is trusted, and no one crosses the line. This was an experienced group of BDSM aficionados; so, I wasn’t too worried about things going wrong. Everyone except Lotte was hydrating and nibbling on snacks. In my absence, a small stool was placed near the auctioneer. He was holding the black scarf in his hand.
“Lotti has asked that no one speak, that this be a completely tactile experience and what loti wants, Lotti gets. I’m going to blindfold our voluptuous treat. Each of you will use hand signals to let me know your bid. Remember, you are not bidding for exclusive access but to share in the pleasure. There will be no talking, but there can be utterances of fun and divine ecstasy that lift your senses and engage your thoughts. What do you want to do to help this woman fall into herself to experience freedom like only we can offer. No judgement, no reprisal, just fucking great sex.
Lotte sat blindfolded on the stool with nobody touching her. The house-made itself known with the blowing of the furnace and the creaking of the walls. I momentarily closed my eyes to try and imagine what it felt like to be naked, blindfolded and surrounded by a group of strangers. I played with almost every member of this club and thought nothing of stripping and joining in the fun. The slaves stood together between the Doms and me. I couldn’t help but wonder if the masters got more joy from controlling someone from afar or if they wanted the salt of her skin in their tongues. I had never seen an auction night be so orderly, civilized, and incredibly sensual now build towards a potential orgy. Every other time this group had played together by the 2nd or definitely the third slave, the entire room would be actively playing. Those who had not bid Would toss money at the auctioneer and allow for a free for. Often times padded sawhorses held a girl or two readies to suck and be fucked. Without fail, at least one man would be turned into a pet or a Sissy and at the side of one of the Doms for the night. The rules of no booze and safe words were always present, but it was just wilder than this. This pace and control built the intensity. Everyone was still enticed to play and fantasize right to the very end of the night. No one wanted to go home early from this final act. The bidding head finished, and Lotte was satisfied with the amount she had raised. I was told to record $2200 in the book but with no specific name next to it.
All we’re welcome to play as they saw fit. I jotted the information down and placed the book on its’ shelf. Several people were undressing. I stepped forward and raised my hand, waiting to have Lottie’s hand put into mine. I brought her close to me. My arm around her back, hoping to make her feel protected. I steadied her as we walked towards the bed. I whispered instructions. I directed her to the center of the bed, secured her blindfold, and placed both her hands and ankles in the four-point restraints. I kissed her on the forehead and told her she was a very good girl. I resisted the urge to nip at her erect nipples as she maneuvered herself into a comfortable position.