bdsm play

After the Battle for Aziza (Dirty Deeds)

September 19, 2020 By Dame TylerRose. 2 Comments

sexy male Dom with crop — via stock.adobe.com

Mouths locked together as they soared up into the hatch, her nails digging into the back of his neck.

“I never knew fighting got you so hot,” Jerome teased as the hatch sealed shut beneath them.

“Yeah, you may have to wrestle me for position there, bubba.”

She turned to walk away and he darted a snakehead hand to capture her wrist and keep her on the spot. There was no fighting his iron hold. There was no struggling unless she wanted to start the wrestling match right here or bring her pyro or psychokinesis into it. She had promised him she never would.

He was talking into his phone with Gable but glaring at her with an expression she knew too well. She glared back, knowing what was in store for them both. Soon as Gable was on the teleport pad, Jerome had her over his shoulder to carry through the ship.

On her feet in their quarters, he ripped her blouse apart. Buttons flew in all directions.

“Have I told you how much I like that you don’t wear a bra?” he asked when he’d bared her lovely breasts.

She hooked his advancing foot and shifted, taking him down and putting him on his back on the floor and straddling his waist.

“Oh, you think you gonna be sneaky, huh?” he grinned.

He sat up and flipped her to her back. She twisted out of his grasp and rolled away. He caught her by the loop of her jeans and a boot and dragged her back. The boot came off into his hand and the button popped off her jeans between his finger and thumb.

“Come get me, old man,” she growled.

“Careful what you wish for, little girl,” he warned, hands seizing the waist of her jeans.

With him providing accidental leverage, she bolted out of them, laughing and leaving the other boot behind. He grabbed her ankle, loving her raucous laughter. Her right hand shoved back at him with an illegal blast of psychokinesis.

“Playing dirty will not end well for you,” he warned with a darted grab of her wrist.

Two seconds and she was on her belly and he was straddling her thighs to keep her in place. Wriggling and bucking under him, she tried to evade but he caught her other wrist. Holding them in one hard hand over her head, extending the Staff Power to prevent more illegal outbursts, he reached finger and thumb into his back pocket for the flat fold of duct tape. Twice around her wrists as she continued to writhe and curse under him and he was able to get up and hook an arm under her leg and the other under an upper arm. He picked her up and tossed her onto the bed.

She started the scramble away on her elbows and knees, and he caught her again, flipping her onto her back. He used the duct tape again, bringing it between her wrists and around the lowest bar at the foot of the bed.

“Now what’chu gonna do?”

He had her. Chest heaving, arms bound, eyes defiant. Finality would come with the forceful taking she expected. His knees drove her open wide and he looked down on her so beautiful in her passion, needing this aggression from him to get her own out in a safe manner.

Instead of the near rape she expected, he lowered to kiss her. She was calming, defeated but not submitting. His lips met hers, hot breath made steaming by the fires she’d created. Growing in intensity with the flicking of tongues. She bit his lip. Not enough to draw blood but dammit it hurt.

“You’ve been warned not to do that,” he smiled, and tore off another strip of duct tape.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I.”

He taped her mouth closed and kissed her over it. “Don’t bite.”

His hands thrust her thighs impossibly wide and his tongue found her hot, slick core and engorged clitoris. How her pyro got connected to her sex he was still figuring out, but the more she used her fire, the harder she needed to fuck after. She had stopped training with fire because of it.

This time, rather than give her the physical force of his thrusting cock, he gave her the unrelenting assault of his tongue and hands. Slaps and smacks to breasts, hard pinches to nipples, strong sucks of clitoris. She gave a throaty groan of gushing orgasm.

He mauled her with hands and mouth as he had so often done before she’d given him her virginity, and did not let up until he’d worn the fight out of her.

Finally she lay still and breathless and he left the bed long enough to remove his clothes. Her thighs parted for him willingly this time and she sighed a soft groan of satisfaction when he drove into her flesh to join their bodies together in the thing they always had done best.

Eyes closed, she did not see the sharp knife sliding under the edge of the tape between her wrists. He cut her loose from the bed, then split the tape binding her arms together. She peeled it off blindly and reached for his shoulders to hold him.

“Bite me again and I will beat your ass with my belt,” he warned, and peeled the piece from her mouth.

“Tease,” she breathed.

“Yeah, we’ll see, won’t we? I bet I can make it so you don’t like it,” he said, and ground his pelvis into her.

He built her up to that same fever, only then giving her the violence and vigor she needed. The harder he was on her, the more she liked it and the more she gave to him. She had to give it all in order to be herself again. He knew when that happened. During that most intense orgasm that had her shaking in his arms and he felt a certain sort of POP! over his Staff Power aura. She went calm and quiet almost immediately, barely responding to his kiss. He lay beside her, occasionally kissing her cheek or temple. That profound sigh, relieved, satisfied.

The Fire Beast had gone back to its cave until battle would call it out again.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“Much. Thank you,” she said before falling asleep in the next breath.

Excerpt from Dirty Deeds, book 4 of the Kingdom Key series
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B06XZ7PSJK

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 over 25 fiction books.

Twitter — https://twitter.com/DameTyler or @DameTyler
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

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

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

Does A Slave Have Autonomy?

September 19, 2020 By Joji Sada 4 Comments

male dom having a conversation with his female submissive — via stock.adobe.com

There is no greater debate in the BDSM community than when it comes to definitions. Since BDSM is a personal journey, how we define things is molded by our experiences. We are influenced by the people we are with. Through both good and bad encounters, we are constantly growing, changing, and evolving.

Today, class, we are going to discuss an age-old argument.

What is the fundamental difference between a submissive and a slave?

I do not have the answer. But I would like to have a debate with you and share the debates I’ve had with Master.

If you have ever googled the definition of a submissive, you will understand why I refuse to repeat that definition. Instead, I’m going to put down my thoughts on what each of these roles are.

*A submissive is an individual who willingly allows another to take responsibility and control of aspects of their life in an effort to grow as a person.

*A slave is an individual who has willingly given themself and their decisions over to another with minimal to no reservation.

The best description I have heard, and how I apply it to my dynamic, is “a submissive gives over their body and their mind. A slave gives over their body, mind and soul.” The author implied that being a slave was a deeply spiritual experience unparalleled to anything else.

While I agree with their thought process, this is where people diverge on defining the difference. Words like true and real frame expectations into these little boxes and allow us to separate each other. If you do X, then you aren’t a real Dom. If you can’t do X, you must not be a true sub. In reality, the depth of the dynamic, to me, is built within the confines of the mind. The rest is just the show.

Regardless of title, both require trust and communication.

A submissive is seen as a strong, independent individual who kneels out of love and respect for a Dominant. A slave is seen as someone who has gotten in too deep and has no recourse to leave. A submissive can negotiate and set limits while slaves are expected to be doormats. While many view a slave as the ultimate submissive partner (the dream of many 50 shaders and the expected goal of all who kneel), we view them through a harsh lens.

When the life of a slave is imagined, it often involves a 24/7, live-in situation. These are individuals who have no opinions, no decision making, are chained to the bed by the ankle, never allowed to leave the house, and are at the whim of a Master/Mistress. Outside of the community, they are viewed a sex slaves who are trapped and abused.

Above all, the identifying factor of slave implies that an individual cannot have limits or a safeword.

I think that is bullshit.

I had a long debate with Master over this. See, as you all know, I alternate between calling him Mister and Master. One is family friendly; one is kink friendly. I see him as the Master of all things in my life.

I have willingly given him control of my physical being—through correction and health decisions. I have willingly given him control over my emotional being—through communication, sharing of burdens, and the influence of my mental health. Lastly, I have willingly given him control over my soul—I bare it before him each time I kneel and each time I lay before him, so lost in subspace I don’t know my own name.

I trust him with my life and my mind.

That’s a lot of fucking responsibility to lay upon someone.

We talked about our dynamic thoroughly in the beginning and continue to do so. He does not desire a slave. He says that he does not have the time nor attention that is required of one.

Because, how he was taught, slaves are seen and not heard. They are to do absolutely nothing, short of breathing, without the go ahead of their Master/Mistress.

Master hates the term slave when it references me. It upsets him. So, out of respect for him, I identify myself as his submissive. This does not change the dynamic we have. All it really changes is how people imagine us to be.

By Master’s definition, I am not like that.

I do speak my mind when I feel it is important enough. I do take financial responsibility of a portion of our house. I do work outside the home and do so in a managerial position. I am an Alpha outside of our home. Because of this, I do not fit with what the “traditional” definition of a slave.

However, I view it differently.

I speak my mind to keep my Master healthy and happy. I offer ideas that may ease his daily burden. I speak to calm him when life gets frustrating. I think of the worst types of jokes in an effort to make him laugh. I ground him so he remembers to take care of himself the way he takes care of me.

I work as a service to the household. I do what is needed to provide for our family and keep us safe and comfortable. I take part of the financial responsibility, so it does not lay squarely on his shoulders.

My rules do not cease simply because I am outside of the house. The blanket consent I have with him, does not change when the scenes end. His decisions are still final, even when I disagree with the outcome.

I have a safeword to use when needed. We use the color system. Green for good, yellow for check-in, and red for stop. I have never had to use red. We both trust each other enough, that if I have to utter red, something seriously went wrong. We use the safe words for unexpected situations. Was I hit accidentally in a place? Yellow. Do I need to readjust due to pain or numbness? Yellow. Do I need a check-in because the gag is aggravating my asthma? Yellow.

I have yet to come to a situation that requires me to have him stop. Every situation I’ve given examples of are parts of play that could unintentionally injure or break me. If you break your toys, you can’t play anymore. So, we make sure no one is broken.

In the long run, our relationship is what we want it to be, regardless of the labels pressed upon us. Yet, I’d love to see the definition of slave to broaden and develop, just as the community has. I do not need to stay at home to have a deep, spiritual connection with Master. I do not need to be meek and unfailingly obedient to be a good girl. And I sure as fuck do not need to be anything less than what I am to kneel before him and call him Master.

I have all the rights granted to everyone.

I just choose to gift them to someone else.

My name is Joji. I am 29 years old currently and I have been in and around the kink community about 15 years.I am a collared submissive to Magick42. I am also a Daddy to a wonderful babygirl, and have been for more than three years now and I find it very fulfilling. I am being mentored in and being taught electroplay. I am a masochist at heart and thoroughly love impact play, especially caning. I enjoy reading anything I can get my hands on and am a die hard Harry Potter and Doctor Who fan. I am also the secretary for a group in Idaho called Moscow S.P.A.R.K.E (Simply Providing Another Route to Kink Education). It is our mission to teach safe practices to those new to the community and give them a safe haven to ask questions and learn without judgement. We accept all kinks and all we ask in return is respect between all our members.

Erotica: Photo Session

September 12, 2020 By Christmas Bunny 2 Comments

wet woman in white tank top — via stock.adobe.com

Mona shifted her bag nervously from hand to hand. She’d been crushing on this particular photographer since first seeing her work shared on Instagram. She did gorgeous erotic sessions as well as marketing shoots for local kink vendors, and their recent casual friendship had Mona hoping for more. They’d negotiated boundaries for this shoot more thoroughly than Mona ever recalled negotiating pick-up play scenes, but even so, she was nervous, and a tight ball of anticipation rested low in her stomach.

An assistant finally answered the door, escorting Mona back to the photographer’s lair in the back of the house. They had a partial water setup included today, and Mona’s steps quickened as she wondered how it would go.

Innocently was the best word for the first half hour. The assistant busied himself, occasionally disappearing for several minutes at a time, while the photographer set her equiment for a test shoot. Brusquely, she asked Mona to take her place to begin the session. “Panties?” she asked. Mona blushed a little and squeezed her knees together, shaking her head in the negative. “Good, you followed instructions,” came the distracted response as the shutter began to click, capturing the alluring combination of embarassment and arousal.

“Now flirt with me,” came the first instruction. Mona looked puzzled and began to open her mouth when the photographer stopped her. “With your body,” she clarified.

Mona leaned back onto her hands, dancing her knees slightly apart, flashing glimpses of bare cunt under an indecently short dress. The photographer clicked the shutter quickly, adjusting position around Mona as she worked.

“Harder nipples,” came the next command. Mona pinched them through her skater-style dress, but despite the coolness of the studio space, they didn’t harden.

“Can you help me?” Mona asked shyly. The photographer silently handed the camera to her assistant, who continued shooting photos as she kneeled next to Mona, pinching her nipples roughly and plucking at the bars in them. Mona found herself shifting with the beginnings of arousal, but her pierced nipples remained uncooperative.

With a small noise of frustration, the photographer bent her head and placed her mouth directly on the stubborn buds. The sucking came hard and immediate, and Mona’s nipples began to respond. The photographer bit solidly behind the bar, and that took Mona’s nipples the rest of the way to rock-hard. She moaned quietly into her closed mouth, trying to maintain some degrees of professionalism despite the hungry mouth on her nipple. She vaugely heard the shutter clicking as her head fell back and she wantonly pressed the nipple more firmly into the photographer’s mouth. “That ought to do it,” the photographer said, distantly, reclaiming the camera from the assistant, who had been shooting photos the whole time she’d worked up some decently sized wet patches on the font of Mona’s dress.

Mona rubbed her bare thighs together slightly, immagining that mouth a little lower. Another command came, “Turn over and offer me sex without speaking a word.” Mona shyly raised to her knees, dress still ruffled from her earlier shifting. She played with the hem of her dress, teasingly flashing even longer glimpses of bare pussy than before. Mona dropped to hands and knees, the skirt hitching up over bare ass, totally exposing her. She arched her back and slid her knees slightly apart, teasing with what she had heard was quite a lovely bare cunt. She reached a hand back and covered it briefly, glancing flirtatiously at the photographer from over her shoulder, then took a slap of opportunity, the sound of bare skin being slapped ruined by moisture already pooling under her hand. With a flush, she quickly withdrew the hand, sitting back on her heels and letting her knees slide outwards until she rested her pussy almost on the floor, still glancing back over her shouder every so often. The shutter clicked furiously as the photographer recorded each moment.

“Such a wet little pussy,” she murmured. “I can see it from here. Take the dress off and show me that body, naughty girl.”

Fuck. Mona had already been turned on, but being called a naughty girl just hit the accelerator on her excitement. She slowly pulled the dress off over her head, the flush of arousal evident between her legs. The photographer shot photos from all the angles, being sure to capture Mona’s swollen cunt.

She handed the camera off again. “Are you ready for the fun part?” she asked. Mona nodded her continued consent as the photographer held one finger up menacingly, then dropped it down to touch Mona’s clit lightly. The whirr of the shutter continued as the photographer expertly rubbed wetness into every crevice of Mona’s wet little slit, and she rocked her hips against the finger in response. “Lay back,” came the next command, and she obeyed with haste. A tongue began firmly probing Mona’s clit, and she began to see stars. The photographer began adding spanks and slaps, creating ripples of flesh. She reached a hand out as if demanding something, and didn’t stop what she was doing until an object was placed there. She began using a crop on Mona’s ass and thighs, mouth still pleasuring the wet little nub at her core.

The crop must have had a special handle. Its direction was reversed and slid into Mona, and in that manner she was alternately spanked and fucked with the handle until she was crying for release. Mona trembled and made glorious sounds at her treatment, not daring to believe she was finally in the hands of her idol, with hours left to come.

I’m not “Poly”. I’m a SLUT!

September 12, 2020 By Dame TylerRose. 3 Comments

beautiful pink lips with candy — via stock.adobe.com

There are those who think that the word polyamorous is just a fancy term that means slut. They use it as an excuse to fuck anything that moves and betray their partners. “Oh, but I’m poly!”

No, you’re a slut trying to legitimize using people for your own gratification.

There are those who think the word bisexual means “slut who will fuck anyone”. They are heartily disappointed when the bisexual person they invited to join their bed for an entirely selfish threesome is offended and refuses. “But you’re bi! What’s the problem?”

I’m not polyamorous. I’m not looking for love or committed relationships. I want SEX with dudes who have a penis attached to their body. I want lots of sex with lots of dudes. Preferably dudes with enough stamina to keep up with me and go the distance. (Dudes, do NOT skip leg day!~ And do more crunches while you’re at it. Put a twenty pound weight on your butt and do pushups. Turn yourself over and put it on your crotch and do thrust-ups too.)

I’m a slut. I admit it freely, happily. I managed to get in a slut phase before I turned fifty. YAY ME!!!

I told a woman at an event some time back that I am the world’s most socially awkward slut. She said “There is no whore bigger than me in the world.” What a terrific moment of personal honesty. I don’t think I’ll forget it for a very long time. We actually worked out a deal that she would happily suck the cock and I’d take them on when they were fucking too long for her.

It’s time for unicorn hunters to stop treating bisexuals as their personal slut supply. It’s damned disrespectful.

It’s time for sluts to stop using polyamory as an excuse to cover being a slut. It’s deceptive and cruel to those looking for love and commitment.

Just own it already!

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 twentysomething fiction books.

FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

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

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

This week in kink news: September 14, 2020

September 12, 2020 By Dexx 2 Comments

A lot of universities are throwing events through the Let’s Talk About Sex series to de-stigmatize sexuality, BDSM, LGBTQIA topics, and so much more!

In our opinion this is a great thing for students to be exposed to.

NUS’s rope bondage event was recently cancelled that was put on by this series due to claims saying that the event “promoted violent sexual fantasies.”

Click below to learn more!

New California bill states that an individual doesn’t have to be labeled a sex offender if the age gap is less than ten years between offendee and offender.

The bill does not legalize sex with minors, but rather gives judges the ability to evaluate whether or not an individual be charged as a sex offender.

Click below to read more!

Victoria Rage, a Seattle-based Dominatrix, talks about her recent request due to the pandemic.

Click below to learn more about peoples’s creative fantasies during these times!

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.”

Video: How To End A Scene

September 12, 2020 By Evie Lupine 2 Comments

BDSM 101: How To End a Scene

Watch this video on YouTube

Many folks solely focus on the beginning and middle of a scene. However, the end is just as important.

Be sure to watch this essential video on how to properly end a scene from Evie Lupine.

Hone your communication skills and learn important things to consider throughout the entire scene.

Improve your play today with this insightful video!

Journaling While Under Consideration

September 5, 2020 By Joji Sada 4 Comments

sexy tatted vixen with collar — via stock.adobe.com

***under consideration is an optional step/stage in the power exchange dynamic process. It can involve petitions, contracts, consideration collars, etc. It is essentially the step before being officially entering into a power exchange relationship. But again it is not needed to enter into a power exchange dynamic.

Journaling is often heavily used in power exchange dynamics as a tool for the submissive to learn, grow, and express themselves.

Sometimes, I think it is important to go back to the basics.

When I was taken under consideration by Master, his main requirement was journaling. I was to answer the same question, every day, and see how my viewpoints evolved over time. His question: What is one kinky thought I had today?

My first few entries were sexual. While I was aware that BDSM and sex are not mutually exclusive, the word kinky led me towards it. Slowly, over the span of a few weeks, you can start to see less mention of sex and more mention of my internal struggles.

So, I thought I would share with you a few snippets from my “under consideration” journal. I have never let anyone other than Master read these. They are deeply personal, and my stomach sits heavy with anxiety as I type these up. I am starting with just a few from the very beginning for this go around.

These have not been edited or transformed in any way. They are simply transcribed so I could share with you my thoughts from then to now.

Day 3

Today was slightly different. I spent a good majority of time contemplating what qualifies.as kink. To me, kink is both sexual and lifestyle driven. It seems to reflect an acceptance of my choices, my likes and dislikes, my thoughts, my goals, and all associated knowledge gathering for the BDSM part of my life. So, when I think about my kinky thoughts, I drift towards a goal. I would like to learn about the Leather lifestyle, and I would like to live it. I would like to be mentored by you in regards to it. I spent a while after work looking up information and compiling questions. I expect that part of the journey is the search for knowledge and self-reflection, but I would appreciate a guiding hand.

I’ve thought about our previous conversations in regards to living by guidelines; by a code of conduct. I am unsure what the virtues Leather outlines so I’ve decided to list what I find important and compare it later on.

Patience– Is it always important to remember that anything worth having is worth waiting for.

Honor– There is nothing more important than knowing that someone’s promise, their word, is a binding contract that will be supported and defended. It is also essential that whatever virtues and personal laws that guide someone are worth defending.

Respect– You should be an individual who carries themselves in such a way as to not only deserve respect but be willing to give it as well.

Even Tempered– You should never be feared by those you trust, never act in a moment of high emotion, be able to assess a situation with detachment, and be known as someone who is clear headed and fair.

Trust– While I believe trust is gained, and can be lost, one must be willing to cherish the trust placed in their hands and be able to be willing to take someone into confidence, if earned.

**I know there are more virtues I consider important, but I am currently drawing a blank. Therefore, I will leave it as is and revisit this thought process later on.

Day 13

Today, I got to ask the question of the day on KIK. I asked, “when negotiations are required, are they more in depth with a short term or long-term partner?”

To me, negotiation is the foundation of the progression of a relationship. My negotiations are all based on long-term relationships and goals.

In the group, J relayed her thoughts on negotiations. She viewed every decision as a negotiation. For example, if a Dom says no, then a sub lists the reasons they disagree with the answer, and then a final decision is made is a negotiation. I was surprised how much I disagree with that. In a D/s situation, my negotiation for every day decisions would be the consent to being a submissive and consent to service as such. The rest is filler. Regarding play, I can see a need for extra negotiation, but not in everyday situations.

I wonder if I am wrong. I wonder if my view is too narrow. It somewhat confuses me.

I also wonder if I am just strange. When I negotiated with Sir, I had one rule. As long as I, or our wives, had not verbally stated something was not allowed, then Sir has the right to try it. I call it “blanket consent.” To me, if I cannot trust someone enough to allow such consent, then I should not submit to them.

Is that wrong?

Day 17

I struggle with submission. I recognize the “big” moments that require me to listen and obey. But, those “little” everyday moments are hard to let go. I struggled over a ridiculous order and you asked me to write about it.

My mom and Graa came out to visit, as a surprise. Because of this, we went to visit. As we were getting ready, I realized I only had my tennis shoes. I started looking for a pair of socks. After a couple of minutes, you told me to wear your sandals. I told you, “no, its fine.” You stated otherwise. When you said “three” and started the countdown, I paused, I stopped searching, and I tensed. “Two.” No movement, no words, no obeying. “Now.” I moved, almost reluctantly. However, I listened.

It feels natural to submit to you. However, I have a very hard time letting go of control. I am in control at work, and I am in control at home. I hold the weight of the world by choice.

However, when I am ordered by my Dom, outside of play, I struggle with the mindset switch. Sometimes, it is the inability to let go. Sometimes, it is a challenge. Sometimes, it is a lack of recognition that it is an order. Sometimes, it is a push to see if you are serious.

All the time, though, it is a moment that quiets my mind. It is an attempt to center myself. I trust you fully, and with each successfully obeyed order, I’m starting to trust myself.

Day 37

You put me in the corner (of all things) today. I deserved it. Honestly, had the child not been there, I would have deserved the belt for mouthing off and calling you a woman. I knew as soon as I said it, I was in trouble. I find it hard to look you in the eye when I’ve misbehaved. I’m worried I will see disappointment. That’s something I severely dislike seeing directed at me.

When I was in the corner, you asked me one question. “Am I ready to behave?” You told me you wanted a yes or no answer, and as soon as I gave my answer, I could leave the corner.

It took three questions and physical contact on my neck before I could bring myself to answer you. You told me my answer didn’t matter. As long as I answered, I could have left the corner. You asked me if it was so hard to answer the questions. The answer was Yes, Sir. It really was that hard.

I don’t believe in doing anything half-assed. If I couldn’t answer you with an honest, fully meant yes or no, then I would not answer.

I expected a few swats or the belt. So, when you put my in the corner, my first thought was disbelief. My second was wanting to deck you. I wanted to turn around and wipe the smirk off your face. That is why I rested my forehead to the wall and closed my eyes. I took a full, deep breath for clarity. This is when the fight for control begins. It is a small mantra of wanting to challenge your rights as Dom. At the same time, I have a strong feeling of need. I know that I need discipline. In all the fight, I never debated leaving the corner. Even when I turned, I did not leave the spot you left me in.

I wanted to push you. I wanted to push and push and push until You stared at me in disbelief and reacted. But, I knew that I did not actually want to upset you nor did I really want to be in control.

I use breathing to center myself when I cannot kneel or curl up and cuddle. I use slow breaths to answer the hardest questions that I have. I used it to remind myself that I asked for you to be firm. I used it to weigh the heaviness of my words if I had asked if “this was all you had.” I used it to measure my needs and wants. As soon as I take that first, steadying breath, I know that I will submit. Because I want to. Because I need to.

So, the longer I stood there in silence, with my eyes closed and my breathing slow, the more the fight morphed into giving you an honest answer.

Could I behave? Yes, I could. I just needed to waid through all the white noise first.

I have always been open that I fought Master tooth and nail after he took me under consideration. He saw something in me that even I didn’t. He took steps, such as requiring me to journal, to help me learn about myself.

I am not proud of fight I have given him. Yet, I know it was necessary. It took me six months to kneel for him. It took another three for me to refer to him as Sir verbally. It took over a year for me to crawl for him.

Throughout it all, he was patient with my struggles and firm with my punishment. He was calm when I would work myself into a panicked state and damn near all knowing when he gave me topics to explore.

He knows me better than I know myself.

Because of him, I can read back through that first year, and see where I was. I can read of my confusion, my distaste with myself, my joy, my triumph, and my growth.

I can watch myself change and learn.

Now, I use these writings as a guide so I can help other new submissives. I stand strong in the belief that you never have to be subservient from the beginning. You never have to change who you are. You never have to face the journey alone.

You just have to be honest.

With your Dom, always.

But, most importantly, with yourself.

This week in kink: September 7, 2020

September 5, 2020 By Dexx 2 Comments

Into impact? Curious about being spank? Have a burning desire to consensually spank a partner?

Then you should check out this awesome list of paddles from Refinery29! Click below to learn more!

If you’re into documentaries and/or sex you won’t want to miss this extensive list of Netflix’s best sex documentaries brought to you by Decider After Dark.

Click below to get your sexual learning on!

https://decider.com/2020/08/28/best-sex-documentaries-netflix/#/

Fascintaed by Shibari?

If so, definitely check out this awesome article on Tension, Montreal’s Shibari studio!

Click below to learn the studio’s protocols and what they have to offer!

This week in kink: August 24, 2020

August 23, 2020 By Dexx 2 Comments

Are you a swinger? Exhibitionist? Nudist? Practice any form of ethical non-monogamy?

Then you might be interested in learning more about the amazing lifestyle resort, Hedonism II, and it’s new protocols for the pandemic!

Click below to read what CNN has to say about this unique vacay!

Check out this fascinating article by Time Out Sydney on The Kastle, Sydney’s last full service BDSM dungeon.

Mistress Scarlett (the dungeon’s owner) and Mistress Lucilla explain the ins and outs of this unique space and the dungeon’s mission- bringing fantasies to life in a safe, sane, and consensual manner.

Check it out now!

Victoria Rage, a Seattle-based Dominatrix, gives some insight on how she has adapted her work to fit the current state of world.

She then goes on to give sex workers helpful advice on how to grow their business during these trying times.

This article is great for veterans and novices alike. We must be flexible and roll with the punches during this uncertain period.

Thanks for the advice Ms. Rage!

https://www.businessinsider.com.au/bdsm-works-covid-19-era-but-dont-jump-right-dominatrix-2020-8https://www.businessinsider.com.au/bdsm-works-covid-19-era-but-dont-jump-right-dominatrix-2020-8

Musings of subspace-land pic.twitter.com/8dl15rGvjt
— BDSMeme (@bdsmMeme) August 27, 2020

Erotica: What is a Gallipot? (A piece of Arlyn: Adjutant & Apostle)

August 16, 2020 By Dame TylerRose. 2 Comments

sexy Domme with whip — via stock.adobe.com

“Would you like to see a Gallipot getting a good working over?” he asked.

“What’s a Gallipot?” she asked.

“A pain slave who enjoys the harshest, roughest, most excruciating of pleasures. It’s quite something to watch.”

“They like it?” she asked, thinking of Segat’s pain slaves.

“Tremendously. I’ve seen women squirt their juice three feet in orgasm and men with cocks so raging hard they turned purple before ejaculating.”

“How do you watch this?” she blurted in shock for the description.

“Preferably with a dozen others quietly engaged in their own sexual fun while watching. We pay to get in but we’re in our own roped off section. No one can touch you. Well, except me. But I won’t, I promise. It’s all very civilized.”

“Don’t you have a curfew at the temple?” she asked.

“Do you honestly think I give a shit if I have a curfew? Come on.”

Arlyn suddenly liked him a lot. She followed him through the market and out the opposite side. They walked a stone paved street up a slope and turned right to go farther into the town. Another right and they were in a small gated garden, narrow path leading to a low-roofed entry. The door closed as they reached it.

“What’s that about?” she asked.

“It means someone just entered before us and we have to wait a moment. It’s fine,” he replied, reaching to pluck a pink flower from a vine wound through a hedge. He gave it to her. “I love these. They’re among the first flowers of spring.”

She smiled, reminded of the day Jacek had given her a flower.

The door in the entry opened and they went in. It closed behind them, the space lit by three oil lamps.

“Welcome. The event has not yet begun. How many are you?”

“One man, one woman. We’d like an upper tier box, please.”

She wore expensive linen clothes in colors that were also expensive to create. Pearl necklace, gold bracelet. This was obviously a lucrative business. Lenden handed her several gold coins and received a numbered slat of wood.

“Do you want a mask?” the woman inside asked, gesturing to a table with a variety of colored masks.

“I don’t,” he said. “But the lady would.”

He looked over them, selected a black and blue eye mask with gold beads and a small blue feather sticking straight up between the eyes. He tied it around her head and took her hand to continue through the corridor to the door at the end. Through it and they were in a cocktail party. Men and women mingled, talking and enjoying wine or whiskey.

A server wearing a gold ring around his neck with chains down to a gold ring around his cock offered a tray of beverages.

“We would prefer water today,” Lenden said.

The server lifted a cup to her first and then to him and continued on his way. Another server had savory meat delicacies. A third offered candied fruits with a sharp cheese.

The door opened periodically to let in new arrivals. Her eyes went to it each time, seeing who was coming in. She knew no one, of course, until the one face in the world she would recognize entered the room.

Harmen. He did not wear a mask. He did not have his belongings with him. She knew he liked to visit a whore house now and then while traveling. His eyes met hers across the room, hard and disapproving. He’d seen her come in, had followed to collect her.

Before he could take a single step, Lenden was taking her through the door on the left to go to their box. He showed their numbered slat and they were allowed past.

“Your number, Sir?” she heard behind them as they reached the stairs. “That number is for the floor, Sir. You cannot go up to the boxes.”

“I need to speak with that couple,” Harmen said.

“Then you will have to wait until they come back to this room, Sir.”

She heard nothing more, as they were at the top of the stairs. Another servant in gold collar and cock chains escorted them to the left, to the second open doorway. Going into it, Arlyn first saw the wide, backless sofa with small table in front of it for their cups. Beyond was a ring of similar boxes. One level below, the same ring with one box enclosed.

She saw Harmen enter his box and sit. His eyes met hers, displeased. She decided she would ignore him for now.

“Do you come here often?” she asked Lenden.

“About once a month. They do this several times a week.”

The boxes were full in a moment and the nicely dressed woman came out of the enclosed box.

“Thank you for attending, Marus and Maruals. For those of you who have not been here before, I am Marual Glynn. I will conduct the scene this evening. We are pleased today to exhibit the Gallipot Cadell for your entertainment and arousal. This is a non-participatory exhibition but feel free to enjoy yourselves. As always, please keep talking and other noise to a minimum until the event has ended.”

She went back into the closed box.

“Non-participatory?” Arlyn whispered. “What’s that mean?”

“It means no one from the audience can join the center display but the audience can have sex themselves if they want.”

She clamped her jaw shut rather than utter the ignorant “oh” springing to mind. Looking around the other boxes, she saw several women shedding their clothing, and a few men.

Lamps around the boxes were extinguished, giving the occupants a shadow of privacy while leaving the center ring illuminated. The door opened and a young man of magnificent musculature was led out by that same woman. Following was a nude woman with an arrow quiver strapped to her back. Several rods were sticking out of it, of different shades of green, brown, or tan, made of varying materials. Some were wrapped in leather, others were bare wood or bare bamboo. She knelt with her back to the center.

Behind her was another naked male carrying an ornate wood box. He knelt beside her, lowered the box to rest on his thighs, and opened it. Arlyn could see the shining knives in sheaths in the lid, metal sticks in a tray.

As Cadell reached the center, he lifted his hands to grasp a metal bar hanging from the ceiling. Arlyn saw the scarred designs on his skin. One on a bicep, another on the back of a shoulder, another on a thigh.

The Marual selected a many tailed leather whip. Rather like what was used on a ship, but with many more tails and not as brutal in the construction, she took position behind Cadell. She swung it to the left and right of him, in wide arcs of a figure 8 that levelled out her speed. She brought the piece to the center to strike him with each pass. Fwap, fwap, fwap, fwap, steady and moderately fast, about three strikes per five seconds. Not very hard for the first minute, she increased force but not speed, bringing the whip harder on the downswing.

Cadell stood solid and unmoving, not even flinching. He was looking out into the audience, bottom and top tiers, and smiled at someone below Arlyn’s box.

The mop-like flogger dropped to the floor next to the female slave and the Marual grasped a handle to take an implement out of the quiver. A rod about two feet long that she used to strike him from the upper back down to the middle of the ribs, then she skipped over the soft tissue of his waist and took up again from high atop his ass down to just above the knee. Another skip of the knee and she smacked his calves. Down and up, down and up again, she made a good thirty passes with increasing force. His entire backside was pinked, beginning to stripe in welts.

She changed targets, whapping back and forth between his thighs until he had parted his feet as wide as she wanted them. Around to his front and she began to cane his chest and belly. He made not a single sound. Arlyn saw his cock was raging hard. She flinched inside her skin when the Marual smacked his cock with the cane.

She smacked his cock from base to tip, five times in total while he gripped the bars tighter and gritted his teeth. Back to the base, to strike the triangle of flesh above it, then down the length of his erection. He only grew harder. The cane went lower to strike the ball sack hanging between his thighs. It swung like a ball on a tether and she slapped it again, this time with her gloved hand.

It was the gentle stroke of that gloved hand, gripping around his cock, that made him grunt loud enough to be heard.

She stepped away to drop the cane onto the floor next to the flogger. Reaching into the quiver again, she took out a thinner stick that was much more flexible and whip-like. Standing behind him, she swung it to land on his right hip and drag across his buttocks. A slice of blood opened to drip down his behind. She struck again from the left. Arlyn saw the end six inches of the thin reed wrapped around his thigh to leave a deep red welt there before it dragged across his buttocks.

She was familiar with that sensation, if in a wider medium. Harmen’s belt wrapped around her hip like that, it’s folded tip leaving a particularly intense sting. Sometimes the edge of the leather left her marked for a week, he struck with such power.

Ten strikes with the reed-like rod and the Marual paused. The female slave came forward with a wet cloth from inside the box. She wiped down his backside.

“When this is over, will you come to my room with me?” Lenden asked.

She turned her head to look at him a few seconds, then let her eyes sweep across several boxes to see couples engaged in various sexual acts. Mouth were busy between legs, fingers were delving into orifices, hips were at work from behind.

“Why, when we can have sex right here?” she said, reaching down to the buttons of her pants to loosen them.

She stood to push them down and her eyes met Harmen’s. She smiled at him and sat to remove her boots and pants at the same time. Her loose shirt came off easily, was dropped onto the pile of clothing between the little table and the sofa bench. She leaned over onto her left side as he kicked off his pants and shoes and moved in behind her.

“Sure you want to do this?” he asked.

She reached around to grasp his half-hardened cock and stroke it. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to have sex more in my life,” she said.

He didn’t ask again, lifting her knee to place her leg over his thigh. She angled her buttocks backwards to give him better access. As the Marual was picking up her next implement, a six-inch-long metal stick, Arlyn sighed out her relief to be filled. Lenden kept himself to an even pace that allowed them both to watch the happenings below.

The Marual slowly worked the slender stick into Cadell’s penis, smiling at his grunts and struggle. With a gesture, she sent the female slave over to lick his cock and suck his balls. She then reached into the box to pull out a coil of leather. Tossing out the end showed the audience a four-foot whip. She snapped back and forth, cracking it. Several in the audience gasped with the sound. Arlyn had a cum, the sound so much like the sound of Harmen’s belt when it landed on her.

“Do you know the man scowling up at us?” Lenden asked.

Arlyn chuckled lightly, lifting a hand to his cheek. “Indeed I do.” She turned her head to whisper. “He’s my priest companion and he approves of nothing. So give it to me good and give him a wink when I cum.”

Lenden choked back a laugh and increased his speed. She quickly had another orgasm and he smiled at the face scowling up at him. He reached around to grip her puss from the front, watching Cadell get a whipping to his back and chest with a mouth slave kneeling under his cock. Arlyn lowered to lie fully on the sofa, eyes closing to enjoy her own pleasures while listening to the shouts from below.

Cadell could no longer contain his vocalizations. The whip swung and he shouted, and Arlyn sighed with a near-climax. Cadell’s sounds continued, grunts and growls as he worked to regain control over himself. A good minute later, the whip swung again and he shouted again.

“You’ll want to see this,” Lenden said after some twenty shouts. “They’re about to finish.”

Arlyn opened her eyes to see the Marual reach around to grasp the ring at the end of the metal stick. She pulled it out of his penis in a slow and steady single motion. As soon as it was out, the mouth slave went to work. Cadell didn’t need long. Two minutes at most and he let go the bar to grasp his cock and finish off in spurts over the mouth slave’s face and gaping mouth.

Audience members not engaged in sex themselves applauded and the intermission commenced.

Read the rest of Arlyn: Adjutant & Apostle
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07646YM2Z

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 twentysomething 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

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

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