bdsm relationship

Showing Appreciation in BDSM And Power Exchange Dynamics

October 20, 2021 By Ms. Rika 2 Comments

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I hope you have been enjoying Rika’s Lair, my monthly column dedicated to thoughts and experiences regarding power dynamics in Service-Oriented D/s relationships. Look up “Ms. Rika” in the search box for links to all my articles in KinkWeekly!

Gratitude: We recognize and enjoy what our partners do for us. We are humble in our receipt of their efforts. We want to express our appreciation to them in a way that expresses our deepest gratitude. Dominant or submissive, when our partners are gracious with their time and focus, we are compelled to show our gratitude. I am always grateful for the dedication and commitment my subs provide. I am open and honest regarding what their submission means to me as a means of validating their efforts.

But too often, appreciation is shown in a way that is intended to modify behavior. The difference between “Appreciation” and “Reward” is blurred. Appreciation shows gratitude…Reward is manipulation.

I was having an online discussion the other day with a man whose wife had just agreed to lock him up for the month of October (Loctober). He was expressing how thrilled he was that his wife had agreed to put him in chastity and that she had also agreed to tease him throughout the month, so that the impact of his denial would be maximized. As this decision was something he had asked her for, and, though she felt she might enjoy it, did not feel it was something that “served her” directly, he recognized she was providing a gift to him; that she was voluntarily signing up for a sub-centric month that would put responsibility and obligation on her, for the expressed purpose of piquing his libido.

He wanted to show his gratitude and had come up with what he considered a good way to communicate it to her. He decided to do a huge number of tasks, chores, etc. for her during the month and to write down each and every thing he did in a journal. He felt he would then present it to her at the end of the month as a means of saying “Thank you”.

Honestly, I was a little confused. My first instinct was to change the journal from a list of things he did for her to a journal of thanks – for allowing him to do those things for her. Rather than saying, “I filled your car with gas today”, I felt it would be better to say, “Thank you for letting me fill your car with gas today. I enjoyed feeling useful and helping you avoid doing something you dislike”. I felt that this would be better than just listing things she likely already knew that he did, with no real mention of thanks.

But then, I started thinking about the whole idea of this journal – and realized that, intentionally or not, he was anticipating playing the manipulative game so many men who want to be in chastity play: He was going to try to show her the “Benefits” to her of keeping him in chastity – by being especially good while locked up, doing things with no resistance that he COULD do for her without the chastity – but won’t.

Effectively, this journal would be communicating: “Look at all the things I am willing to do for you when you keep me desperate and horny!” The message is loud and clear: “If you want me to do these things without resistance, here’s the way to do it”. It’s a form of manipulation which is, unfortunately, quite common with men who like chastity play.

I was very pleased that he was recognizing that being locked up and teased during October was a treat…something she wanted to give to him, for him. It was good that he recognized her generosity and wanted to show his gratitude. However, the means of showing that gratitude were falling directly into that stereotypical, manipulative trap.

I posed the question to him: “What are you showing your gratitude for?” My assumption was that he wanted to show his gratitude for her spending all that time teasing him and thinking about his situation…keeping his libido piqued, etc. So, I asked him, “Why not say THAT in this journal?” I told him that it would be better for him to thank her for applying so much focus and attention on him and his libido. I challenged him to show that appreciation by directly appreciating what she’s doing without using it to encourage further interaction.

October is just beginning…his “Loctober” is only a week in…there will be plenty of fun times ahead of them. If they keep up the schedule of tease that they anticipate, he will be MIGHTY desperate come Sept 1! I hope she’s aware and ready for the “obligation” of making the release – after such a long ordeal – something worth remembering. We’ll see.

We’ll also see if he rectifies the manipulation within his journal plan. He states that he didn’t intend to manipulate her, but can see how doing what he was intending would do that. But the proof is in the pudding – and if she’s not aware of the potential for manipulation – he may not be able to resist. Only time will tell.

Appreciation is best shown in a selfless manner. You need to find a way to show gratitude without self gain. Make sure you’re not “Rewarding” behavior – rather, that you’re “Appreciating” it. Then your partner will have a clear, unencumbered view of the pleasure their gift brings you – and thus, reap the true benefits – to them – of giving treats.

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”. Write to me at Ms_Rika@hotmail.com

Consensual Kidnapping Scenes

October 20, 2021 By Baadmaster 2 Comments

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With the phenomenon of “cameras everywhere,” the possibility of doing anything under rhe radar – from BDSM to Bread and Breakfast – is virtually impossible. Of course, this erosion of privacy can be a topic in just about any forum, from politics to sexual expression. So, when a question that includes all aspects of intrusive technology with respect to BDSM comes across my desk (and I don’t even have a desk!), I jump at the chance to attempt a cogent answer. So, here it is!

Reader: My Mistress and i have been thinking about a play kidnap scene but are uncertain about Health and Safety precautions, and of course the law. How can we do this safely and avoid involving the Police or the public unintentionally?

As we all know, privacy is going the way of the horse and buggy. One must assume that if you want to attempt an abduction scene, you will have to keep in mind you will be observed. The question is whether this intrusion will insure a trip to the local police station. Your question acknowledges the Police could get involved.

If you imagine an abduction scene as being a “mini-movie,” you can use this to great advantage – from planning aspects to legal issues. From the planning side, making a “movie storyboard” is a great way to go. It doesn’t have to be elaborate, but it can take you from “point a” to “point b” to “point c” in an easy-to-picture way. By visualizing every step, it will help you identify those areas most likely to go right — or wrong. A storyboard gives you a great overview and makes controlling the whole project a lot easier.

As to the legal concerns, it is clear that the actual kidnapping is always the riskiest part. And the more true-to-life you want to make the scene, the more dangerous it is. With video cameras all over the place, prepare for the best but expect the worst. I am not giving any legal advice here (this is the “BaadMaster disclaimer”), but I have discovered one great concept that can take some of the risk out of an abduction scene. I call this the “reality TV movie” strategy. With the popularity of reality TV, this approach has a lot to recommend it. It takes a bit of extra work, but if you wish to stage a realistic abduction scene, it is well worth the effort.

First of all, write a quick abduction script. Title it something like, “The Abduction of Amber.” Then have each person involved sign an actor’s contract/release form and attach a photocopy of his/her driver’s license. Verify that everyone is of legal age. Finally, you must have a video camera with you and take some footage of the “project.” This doesn’t make you immune to Murphy’s Law, but it gives you a degree of protection should things go wrong.

And what can go wrong? Two untoward things can happen when you stage a public abduction. One, a cop actually sees the kidnapping and intervenes. The “reality movie” explanation – with all your “actors” ready to state that it is a movie project and with all the release forms in order – will, more than likely, head off any problems. Another, somewhat similar, problem can occur if someone sees the abduction and calls the police. In this case, you might wind up with cherry tops pulling you over. Again, the movie setup gives you the best chance of not having any further hassles. Be respectful, have your paperwork ready, spend the twenty bucks and register this “script” with the WGA and you will likely be fine. At the very least, if you are arrested, the charges will likely be dropped.

You might think all this preparation takes the fun and spontaneity out of the scene. This might be true to some extent; but we live in the real world. Just as safe sex is essential in the world of STD’s, so is caution indispensable in a world of aggressive law enforcement. Anything worth doing well is worth doing right. And taking a lot – if not all – of the worry out of an abduction scene more than compensates for the extra planning and paperwork this approach requires.

This “reality TV” concept does not preclude the need to follow all of the procedures that I outlined. Make sure to agree on safe words, have an outside friend available on the cellphone and pre-negotiate all hard and soft limits. You don’t want problems at the destination after the abduction goes well. The less that is left to chance, the more fun you will have. Movies and TV have filled our minds with all sorts of nifty, sometimes sexy, visions of what a kidnapping looks like. With this in mind, why not star in your own movie? That, to me, sounds like the most fun!

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.

What Happened Last Week

October 20, 2021 By Ms. Rika 2 Comments

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This week, I decided to share a true story. I often get asked what life is like for my submissive hubby. I’ve talked about his birthday celebrations in the past…days dedicated to tweaking his fantasies for him. But the following happened last week, which is kind of normal for us, and I thought I’d write it down in prose form for my readers.

NOTE: I run the risk of hokey dialog, but I don’t know any other way of depicting what happened. The exact words might not be these, but they do capture the gist – forgive me if it ends up reading like a letter to Penthouse:

I told him to kneel, and he dropped immediately.

I didn’t find his compliance surprising. It was rather expected; the result of 15 days of edging and denial. He was surely aching, although he never would complain. But when I “accidentally” allowed my hand to brush his crotch, his involuntary gasp and sigh gave him away. I could almost see his knees buckle. I figured I might as well help him out.

I knew he was almost at the point of losing reason. I was stretching his self-control – testing his will to remain obedient. Desperation is a regular state of mind for him, so I knew his resolve would win out. Still, this was the perfect time to tighten the noose, so he was going to need to experience how well I understood the condition I was cultivating in him.

To increase desperation, make the sub talk.

“Tell me what you want”, I looked down at him and he averted my gaze. I put my index finger under his chin and lifted his face so I could stare deeply into his eyes. “Tell me what you want. I want to hear it from you”.

“I’d like to please you. Make you scream.”, he said. “Make you scream” is our “lingo” for oral sex. I knew that he was being “good” and making it about me – and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

“Is that all?”

“No Goddess. I’d also like to come…please” he closed his eyes.

“Please? Are you begging me?

“Yes, Goddess. Please”

I laughed a bit and played it up: “Do you call that begging? I don’t think you’re serious enough. Maybe you haven’t gone long enough. Maybe a couple of more weeks?” I knew he was truly desperate and that his brain was clearly unable to fathom reason. What a perfect time to make him panic!

“No please…please. I beg of you. I beg you to please let me come. I can’t take any more of this…I mean, I will if you want me to, but please don’t want me to!”

I turned sideways in front of him and lifted the bottom of my blouse from my pants. I watched as his eyes sunk into my backside, loving the sleek look of my leathers. I swear I saw him tremble.

“Kiss my ass while you beg. Maybe I’ll do what you ask!” – I actually do sometimes give him what he wants, so it wasn’t an empty possibility.

He fell into my body immediately. I felt his hands grab my hips and pull his face close to my ass. Then I felt desperate kisses, creating tiny circles on my ass cheeks, moving around until finally his face buried itself into the crack of my ass, pressing against the material of my pants.

I pushed him back. “Where is your discipline? Slow kisses…gently…around my entire ass”. He was going to have to control himself.

He struggled to calm down. When I let him go, I felt his lips press against the cheeks of my ass, giving soft gentle kisses in concentric circles.

“Don’t get my slacks wet!” Always making sure he stayed focused. Give him something else to think about – in this case, keeping his kisses dry. Leather…focus…More desperation.

“Oh…see? You CAN do it!”. I gave him some time to continue his efforts – testing to see if he’d tire. But he continued to gently kiss. I knew he was struggling to keep his composure – binding his own hands behind his back with his will. Exhibiting the self-discipline he knows I demand in hopes of gaining my favor.

As he continued to kiss, I popped my hip out to the side, giving him a nice “S-Curve” to look at. “Tell me what you want, slave”.

Between his kisses, he sputtered, “Please, please…oh God…please, please let me please you!”. He was regaining his rational mind. Trying to position his need in terms that would be about me, rather than his selfish needs. I decided to test that a bit more.

“Rub yourself”, I softly demanded. I heard him moan and shift and play with himself, careful not to break the rhythm of his kisses. “You want to make me come? I might let you do that for me. Would that make you happy?”

“Yes…yes. Please, Goddess. Please”.

I stepped away and slowly turned to face him.

“Look at you! On your knees, playing with yourself like a schoolboy! Don’t forget to play with your balls too…pull them down. Oh, You poor desperate thing. You ARE desperate, aren’t you?”

He was going to have to admit it out loud. His own words are so much more powerful for driving him into his subspace than any others.

“God yes! Please. I beg you! I’m desperate!” His rubbing increased tempo.

“And who made you desperate?”, I prompted his demise.

“You…you made me desperate”

“Me? You allow me to control you like that? Why?”

“Because it pleases you and I’m your slave.”

I chuckled. Then came that perfect moment.

“Please Goddess, may I please stop masturbating – I will come if I continue”

Music to my ears! As instructed, as trained: The “Please Stop Me From Orgasming” rule is always in effect. Even though he so badly wants to come, he exhibited perfect self-control. Rather than begging me to come, he is instructed to beg me NOT to let him…even at his own hand. Total control because it’s all in his mind.

“Yes, slave. You may stop”, I calmly responded.

He let go of himself and slumped forward, catching himself with his hand against the ground. “Thank you, Goddess”

I walked closer to him and straddled his head, squeezing it gently between my legs. “You’re welcome, my pet!” I heard him inhale. I let him stay there for a moment, knowing that the smell of my leather slacks would further drive his journey down. I stepped back.

“Kneel up – hands behind your head”

He assumed the position immediately, breathing heavily. A strand of precome stretched between the tip of his penis and the small puddle on the floor. He was clearly ripe and ready. Poor baby.

I walked over to the couch and motioned for him to crawl to me. I had him take my pants and underwear down while I played with his hair. I let him kiss my belly and slowly work his way down to my pubic bone.

I put my hand on his forehead and pushed it backwards so he was looking up to me. Our eyes locked. “What do you want?” I asked again.

“Oh God, please let me eat you!”, he was delirious, deliciously desperate and perfectly hard.

I sat back on the couch and let him get close to me. I put my legs over his shoulders and shifted upwards towards him.

“Take your time. Serve me well” I instructed.

He was talented at oral sex when I first met him, and has been a very attentive student through the years – a great combination. His only wish is to get as close to perfect for me as he can. I’m more than willing to help him, although I openly admit, there are times when he does things I can’t explain – but want again!

He gave me two orgasms: The first a slow, long, drawn out, warm-me-all-over come; the second far sharper and more sudden. It was all I could do to let him maintain connection when the second one crested.

I looked down at him. He was so content and yet, so wanting. His erection had not faded throughout. I wanted that inside of me.

“Put it in”, I directed. He quickly slid into me. I was so open and ready. He slumped down against my chest, kissing and nuzzling my neck as he thrust against me. We were hitting a rhythm and I could feel his desire. I love that animal drive.

He was getting close, I could feel him swelling inside of me. Then, dutifully, he offered his ultimate submission, yet again: “Please let me stop”, he groaned out.

I considered the moment while he hung on the edge – awaiting permission to not come; I just LOVE that irony. I let him stew for a moment, well-aware that I was playing with fire. I could feel him slow down, just a bit, holding himself just short of going too far, but not wanting to stop without permission. So dutiful a servant, even under such desperate conditions.

“OK…you can stop”, I “relented”.

I could feel him collapse inside. I watched as he delicately and carefully stopped all motion, allowed himself a moment to recompose, and then slowly and carefully, pull himself out.

“And?” I inquired.

“Thank you, Goddess”, he mustered, trying to sound as sincere as possible. I’m sure the word “Bitch” was on his tongue tip at that moment – so I gave him some leeway despite him seeming a bit insincere.

“You’re welcome, puppy!” I rubbed his hair as he slipped down to a low kneel. “You can finish me now”, I leaned back and pulled his head once again to my pussy. He ate me deep and hard, his desperation driving him beyond. “Oh…you serve me SO well, slave”, I gave him encouragement and recognition. He just moaned and delivered. It was heaven.

The final orgasm was another long and warm, full-body toe-curler. By the time we were done, I could tell that he was getting back into full sub-mode; no longer disappointed that he didn’t orgasm, but rather loving the fact that the steady ache in his groin was making his head so much more subby.

It was time to give him a treat – something that he loves that will help him firmly establish his sub space…just for him. For my sub, the best gifts have to do with my feet. I stood up next to him, stepped into a puddle of his precome so that it squished into my toes, and lifted them to his mouth so he could clean them. I repeated the process until all the puddles were just wet-spots. He dove into this task with enthusiasm and gratitude.

When he was done, I stood him up and gave him a big kiss. Then I told him that I was going to take a shower and that he should put on some shorts, run my water, and turn the towel-heater on. Then he could go make dinner.

He thanked me (quite sincerely) and went off to the bathroom.

As I readied myself for my shower, I considered how lucky I am to have such a diligent and devoted submissive. I know he feels lucky too. For him, there’s no telling how many days of this type of close-call T&D I will put him through. Sometimes I let him come right away – other times, this type of “scene” could last weeks. He never knows. Sometimes, I don’t even know until the moment comes.

Last week, he “suffered” for three more days of edging (a total of 18 days), before I finally allowed him to orgasm onto my feet (and eat it up). Then I gave him 10 minutes to recover and then it was a night of massage and service – right back “on the horse” – no slacking off, just because the desperation is gone.

This is our life together. We both couldn’t be happier. I’m glad to share a little episode!

Video: Halloween Scene Ideas For Pets and Littles

October 20, 2021 By Evie Lupine 2 Comments

Get into the spooky, kinky spirit with Evie!

Click below to get some awesome Halloween scene ideas!

Halloween BDSM Scene Ideas (for littles and pets!)🧡🖤💜

Watch this video on YouTube

What Is Aftercare?

October 13, 2021 By Christmas Bunny 2 Comments

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As more and more new people join the Kink Community on the edges and middle of the pandemic, the more I realize how little knowledge some are stepping into this world with. I recently wrote about pain processing in kink. Today, I want to briefly discuss the aftermath of a scene.

When we say the word scene, generally we are talking about an agreed-upon period of time between two or more people, wherein they perform some negotiated kink experience. It may be impact, it may be needles, or humiliation, or any one of a number of kinks that people share.

As I discussed in my post on pain, the body of the receiver in this event is likely experiencing some chemical side effects, brought to them courtesy of their brain. Adrenaline and endorphins are a potent cocktail. When the activities we engage in trigger those chemical responses, it can be a heady experience. Often, the person who has experienced them will be slightly euphoric or “spacey” afterwards. Some people refer to “subspace,” but I prefer more scientific explanations of what is happening.

Because that can be a sensation that feels different for different people, some find it disorienting. Others feel “loopy” or giggly. Some will need to come out of that headspace gradually, while others prefer a more abrupt return to reality. The period of time after the scene has ended is often called aftercare.

Aftercare looks different based on who you ask. Some people want a blanket and cuddles, some want a stuffie and chocolate. I want a high five and to be told I was a good girl. Some take an hour to gradually ease out of that headspace, others want to giggle away in a group of friends. In some cases, people may prefer that aftercare be administered by someone they didn’t scene with, such as a friend or relationship partner. It is important to include negotiations for the kind of aftercare you need when you are discussing a scene with a potential partner.

If you don’t know what you need for aftercare because you are newer to this, it may be a part of your journey which requires experimentation. Ask yourself following a scene what would bring you comfort. Prepare for many scenarios, such as bringing a favorite comfortable item of clothing to change into, an emotional attachment object, a protein bar, or a sugary snack you enjoy in order to give yourself options when the time comes.

If you are a more experienced kinkster and know that you’ll be having a scene with less experienced players, perhaps consider packing an emergency aftercare bag with some basics in it, in case it is something they aren’t familiar with, or don’t know yet what they need. It isn’t a terrible idea to have things on hand that help others. That’s part of why I always carry a mini first aid kit with me to the dungeon, despite it having three available. My band-aids are cuter.

Please remember, even though there are tops who will hand you off to someone else for aftercare because it isn’t their thing, the important part is finding healthy ways to transition yourself back to life as the chemicals leave the body – and keep these things in mind for the possible drop following after the chemicals break down even further. What you need is what you need during this process.

Knowledge is power, and by understanding what we need on our kink journeys, we give ourselves an amazing gift.

How “Total” Power Exchange Is Manifested

October 13, 2021 By Dame TylerRose. 2 Comments

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There’s been a lot of yammering about the “total” part of total power exchange, and a lot of “whatabout” ism as people try to prove that total isn’t total at all.

People seem to think that the “total” in TPE means the dom is making every single decision every single minute of the day, and those decisions are all about the extremes of life and death matters. They seem to think decisions made must be to the detriment of the sub/slave half of the dynamic.

What they fail to see is that it also means the sub/slave is doing what the dom wants without having to constantly ask for a decision or be threatened with punishment. TPE requires obedience on the part of the sub/slave. If the sub/slave won’t obey, there is no power exchange. Disobedience/noncompliance is keeping control. Obedience/compliance gives control.

The dom/master/owner gives the rules and the sub/slave/property obeys them. That’s the power. It’s not about the teeniest little thing being dictated. It’s about doing things how the dom wants them to be without pitching a bitch about it every single time. It’s knowing “this” is what they want…and fulfilling their wishes.

You know he doesn’t like rye bread. So you don’t make his lunch with rye bread. Do you have to be told a thousand times that he doesn’t like rye bread? No. He told you once and you remember. You can buy it for yourself if you want, unless he decrees he doesn’t want it in the house. If he doesn’t want it in the house, don’t fucking buy it.

THAT is the T in TPE.

EW decided once that I was not to address anyone by any title. His decision was final. I abided by that decision regardless who didn’t like it. When there came a time that someone had earned my respect (Lon_RM, who I have come to regard as the father I wish I’d had) that I wanted to use the title in his name (MasterLon, at that point), I went to EW and explained. He agreed and the exception was made. The rule was NOT changed for anyone else.

It was EW’s decision to make the exception. There was another time when I had asked for an exception and he’d said no. I abided by that decision, whether I liked it or not. That is total power.

I asked EW to flog me long enough that I naturally fell asleep. He refused. I had to abide by that decision, because he would never relent and I was not to ask again. I had nothing to say about his decision. I was not given the luxury of an opinion on the matter. That is total power.

There was a night he’d forgotten his keys. He was already in Manhattan and did not have the time to travel half an hour back home and half an hour into work again. I had a full plate of food in front of me. A delicious corned beef supper. I had to put that supper in the fridge, get my shoes on, and take him his keys. There was no option for me to say “after I eat”. It had to be now because Master needed it NOW. There wasn’t a single second of complaint about it from me. This was my job as his sub: To do as he required. Period. He had that total power to command. An hour and a half later (because waiting for trains and walking blocks through neighborhood), I was back home and finally able to eat my supper at 9 o’clock at night.

Having “total” power also means having discretion over when to exert their will and when not to.

He knew he could insert his own ideas into my books. He could use that power if he wanted. He chose never to tell me what to write or how. He felt it would not be appropriate. That is discretion.

He could have told me what kinds of leather goods to make. He could have told me never to use skulls or upside down crosses if he wanted. He chose never to tell me what to make or how to make it. That is discretion. He did, however, greatly enjoy prototype day, and some of my innovations. He particularly liked the 3-sided, meatier handles.

He could have bent me over and fucked me during the most painful days of my period if he wanted. He chose mercy, and would sometimes jerk off onto my tits instead. All I had to do was kneel or sit there and hold my tits up. He chose not to cause me more pain and discomfort. He chose discretion.

There was a time we discussed a piercing or tattoo to mark me as his. Then he worked a season with the Freak Show from Coney Island hanging in Blood Manor. He came home one morning and declared that he would never get me pierced or tattooed. Ever. Didn’t matter if I wanted the piercing or tattoo. He had decided, and the matter was at his discretion in the first place. When the time came that I wanted a simple tattoo as research for a book, he allowed it because it was for my own reasons and not something marking me as his. When I asked, months later, if I could get it finished, he said no. I did not sneak out behind his back to get the tattoo finished. Because total power exchange.

He chose to allow me to learn to top others. He could have put a stop to it at any time. In the last couple years of our relationship, he let me go to spanking parties and receive. But there were rules for both. I could not touch the genitals of anyone. No one could touch my genitals. There was no kissing. No mouths touched me and my mouth touched no one. This was completely within his power to permit or refuse at any time, any party. Even if I was about to walk out the door, he could have told me to stay home and I would have had to obey. Because total…and at his discretion.

I didn’t ever intentionally disobey him on trivial things or for trivial reasons. He knew anything I did that was contrary to what he might have wanted was a “rock/hard place” moment and I made the best decision I could…in good faith.

Not once was his “power” diminished by any of his decisions. He chose when how to use his authority and exert himself…and chose when not. He made what he felt was the correct decision in the moment.

And I didn’t turn every decision into a battle in order to have my way. Pissing and moaning over every decision, undermining every decision or overriding them and doing whatever the fuck I wanted, would have undermined the entire TPE dynamic. It would not have been “total”.

TPE meant he decided and I abided. Period.

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written four “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty eight fiction books. She’s been doing this bdsm stuff for 34 years and lived TPE relationships for 31 years.

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, diamond painting, and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

Erotica: Ladies Choice

October 13, 2021 By eve 3 Comments

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The second hand on the clock held its breath waiting for the response. Sally was frozen, waiting. When no instruction came, she genuflected between them. He smiled at Mistress. The smile said so much. Nicely trained, fantastic sub. He stepped back and left the bathroom, giving Mistress room to manage her toy part of the session. Before he could survey the loft, Sally was in the door – leash in hand and holding it out for him.

He took the leash and walked back into the room. He attached the leash to the hooks above the toilet. Sally’s eyes grew large, he reached for the enema bag. He filled it with warm water, lubed the end and motioned for her to assume the position. He lifted the toilet seat allowing, her to sit, coughing her hands to her ankles. Without a word, he grabbed Mistress and forced her to her knees. As Mistress, deep to the back of her throat Sally, watched in silent humiliation.

He curled her hair around his fingers, allowing her to lick and tease his erection. His jeans hung from his hips, and his balls were still tucked away as his cock became engorged from the pleasure she provided with her wanton mouth and tongue. She held his gaze as any thought of Sally slipped from her mind. His words of encouragement and praise fed her desire to satisfy him. He instructed her to take his pants off.

She withdrew from him to maneuver around and remove his pants. Before she could stand, he had a handful of hair in his hands, “Did I tell you to stop sucking my cock, slut!?”

She leaned back to rest on her heels and answer. He laughed at her effort. “I didn’t. You could stop.”

He placed his hands on either side of her head and drew her in until she gagged. He held her there for what seemed like an eternity to Sally. He was enjoying this training, and this captive audience was a different kind of rush. The planning of the next steps added intensity to his hard-on. He flicked his hips forward, jamming his cock down her throat; her wretch and tear were the tipping point. He grabbed his cock and spat his load onto her face. He playfully slapped her face, kissed her forehead, and cooed “good slut” as he walked into the shower.

He beckoned her to the shower. He made no effort to make it easy for her to turn on the shower. Mistress had removed the body stocking. He stood in the middle of the shower, waiting. She pressed herself against the icy cold tiles, her nipples pulled into painfully tight nubs. He held her breast and flicked her nipples as she struggled to turn on the water. His body blocked her as he cajoled her into turning on the water. Training continued as he teased her about failing at her task. His admonishment was playful, meant to frustrate her just enough that she would have to ask permission to set the temperature. She growled and flicked her arms in frustration. He pressed her into the cold tiles, drew his mouth near her ear and growled, “you” do nothing without permission.” Mistress stopped fighting and let his weight hold her until she was chilled on the back and warmed on the front. When she had been still for several minutes, she murmured, “Can I please turn on the shower and help you bathe?”

He stepped back so she could move and turn on the shower. She set the shower to run down his back. She scrubbed him with a loofa and mint soap until his back was pink.

“Am I washing your hair?”

“You want to try that again?”

“Sir, would you like me to wash your hair?”

“slut you may, but don’t get soap in my eyes.”

She gingerly put small amounts of shampoo in his hair, rinsing as she shielded his eyes. He didn’t move or make any effort to make the tease easy for her. Without asking, she turned off the water and passed him a small towel.

“What do you expect me to do with that?” Silently, she began to dry him off.

He left the shower and attended to Sally. She had held the position silently. He released her restraints and the enema bag. He didn’t look at her or reward her obedience. Mistress watched the interaction; her only response was to press her lips together. She wanted this. Now she wanted to see it through. He approached her and asked, “Where are we?”

Mistress looked at Sally. She was humiliated and in need of comfort. He told Mistress to put Sally on the toilet and then set up the four-point restraints on the bed. He went to the kitchen and drank water while he surveyed the room. The pace of this evening was slower than he was happy with, but a whole lot of fun. The St. Andrew’s cross was in a superior position for observing the bed. Without speaking, he motioned for Sally to be strapped in.

Mistress stood at the end of the bed, naked. Her hair was wet from the shower and a little wild. She was a fawn in a meadow and he the wolf. He walked to her and kissed her full on the mouth. His hand wrapped at the base of her neck, lifting her onto her toes as the kiss deepened. He continued to kiss her long after the moans of pleasure rose from her heaving chest. When her legs were shaking from being stretched, his arm slid under her ass, and he lifted her to the bed. Her mouth was swollen and a little bruised already. Her areolas were deep pink. He leaned over her body, not touching her except to trace his nail around the circumference. She lay spread eagle, watching him stalk around the bed, watching her body. He had taken a crop from the table and was using it to lift her breasts. He smacked gently down the length of her torso. He was using the leather tongue to open and stoke her sex as he positioned her body. The tongue of the crop was wet. He dragged it across her lips. He lay the crop across her tits.

“Don’t let it fall, or there will be consequences” he smiled as he tightened the first arm restraint. His mouth began at the inside of her wrist, and he caressed and teased down her side. She tried using slow breaths to not squirm from the tickles his beard created at her side. His mouth traced the soft skin at her hip. The flatness of his tongue stirred an arousal she had not anticipated. He traced and nipped at the area above her pubic bone, tempting but never touching her sex. Her breath was ragged, and she pressed her hips into the bed. He restrained her ankle and continued to use his mouth and hand up to her inner thigh. The heat from his mouth on her inner thigh was too much. Mistress wrapped her unrestrained leg across his back and raised her pussy to him. He let her hold him for the briefest moment. He stopped and stood. He restrained the portion and walked away.

She saw the light of the fridge light up the ceiling. The music washed away any clues as to how he was moving around the room. She could see Sally’s face; it was twisted in frustration. He brought her a drink with a straw. He tempted and teased her until her knees went weak. This time he didn’t withdraw. He flicked her clitoris at lightning speed, telling her not to come until she gushed. He licked her from his fingers. Kissed her and cooed, good girl. He released her from the cross, swaddled her in a large blanket and carried her to the couch with some fruit and ice water.

“Be a good little sub and let me finish your Mistress.”

He crawled on all fours to between her legs, slid his hands under her ass, so his thumb pressed against her ass. With the flat of his tongue, he began to drink her deeply. As she started to rock in pleasure, he slowly massaged her asshole. She was wet and aching for his cock. Once she had cum, he released the restraints, put on a condom, and gentled his pace. He entered her slowly and barely moved. She wrapped herself around him. He sat back and held her close, whispering for her to inhale and exhale until they were synced. He danced her around the bed, varying the pace and intensity until her nails dug in, and she froze for her climax. He waited until she relaxed. She kissed him with gratitude. He returned the kiss and increased the intensity of screwing her. She climaxed again. When she settled, he grabbed an anal vibrator from the side table, lubed it and slid it in. Positioning him from behind, he pounded her relentlessly. He climaxed, smacked her ass, and walked to the bathroom.

When he returned, she was wrapped in a blanket on the sofa next to Sally. He sat down, tossed the TV remote at Mistress and said, “ladies’ choice.”

Pain Processing In Kink

October 7, 2021 By Christmas Bunny 2 Comments

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As some of you who follow me on Fet may have noticed, I recently added two rib tattoos to the markings Santa has gifted me.

They really fucking hurt, by the way.

Interestingly enough, through my conversations with the tattoo artist and subsequent research on tattooing, I learned a lot about my own pain management that was new information. While I already knew some of this, learning the rest has been a great stepping stone to help me build a more effective pain management routine for days when Santa and I have heavy impact planned.

Some know this one already because I’ve mentioned it or because they have experienced it: pain can be more intense during certain portions of the menstrual cycle. For many it is during the actual menstruation while for others it is during ovulation. Those hormonal changes can make pain less easily tolerated. For those who may be unaware of this fluxuation, it can be a surprise when they suddenly have difficulty with an experience, not realizing the hormonal factor can be a huge variance.

Sleep matters. There are times an extended impact session (or other painful experience) can be about relaxing and focusing on an area of the body that is not experiencing pain. Those techniques are easier to employ when well rested. As for the focus one, the best way I know to describe it is an almost meditative focus on a comfortable body part. I will rub my two largest toes together on the foot with the permanent toe ring. It is a unique sensation and it can help to stop focusing on the part of my body that is hurting.

Stay hydrated. Hydrated skin tends to be more resilient, and isn’t as easily irritated. Things like needles or other tools can create redness and skin irritation, and hydrated skin will generally be able to tolerare those things for longer.

Eat a good meal. I have been guilty of forgetting to eat prior to a scene, and I know some people who don’t eat anything hearty beforehand because they are concerned about appearing bloated or full. It turns out that not eating is terrible for pain tolerance. We get endorphin kicks and adrenaline rushes when we dance with pain. Those chemicals use sugars in the blood as fuel. Without having a reserve, such as carbs or even eating fruit before a scene, the resulting body response can be feeling shaky or weak after handling pain, and subsequent pain will just fucking hurt, because the adrenaline has run out of food to eat. That will definitely cut a scene short.

Avoid alcohol. While, sure, there are impaired consent issues here, from a purely practical standpoint, alcohol can increase the body’s sensitivity to pain. It can also dampen mental acuity and make it more difficult to process the sensations being experienced without becoming overwhelmed or upset.

Use calming breathing techniques or breathing for meditation. Women have used breathing in childbirth to withstand pain, and similar techniques can help in kink experiences.

Relax, for goodness’ sake. How many times have we heard that tensing a muscle makes pain more intense? Work on isolation techniques such as the ones practiced in yoga. These can be excellent for helping stay in tune with one’s body and remind it to relax.

My routine has changed since I’ve learned all of this. Obviously, there are things I can’t change, such as my menstrual cycle. What I can do is choose whether or not to do impact during that time, or choose implements I know I can handle even then.

When I get up the morning we have plans, I eat cereal. I make sure to have a snack in the afternoon, and eat steak or other protein before we leave the house. I also pack an apple or some fruit to eat before our scene, to give me that extra bit of sugar for my body to eat up with endorphins. I also carry protein bars for a quick pick-me-up. I drink water all day, once we arrive, and afterwards, as well. I find that by using this routine, I don’t tend to crash afterwards or even really experience much in the way of drop.

Obviously, everyone is different in the way they handle pain. The thing that doesn’t change is the chemistry behind how our bodies work. The more we understand about ourselves, the better we can be at taking care of our bodies. The better care we take of them, the longer we will be able to participate in the kink activities we enjoy.

Is Age Merely A Number?

October 7, 2021 By Baadmaster 2 Comments

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Finally, a question and answer that will NOT mention the C-Word. (Covid.) Oops, I slipped. Well, just once is pretty good!So, here it is (got there pretty quick, eh?)

Reader: My new sub is quite a bit younger than I am… by 25 years, in fact. We met online and immediately hit it off, and have moved into a RL relationship with flying colors so far. But I’m concerned about how our age difference might impact our relationship, mutual friendships and our play life. Any advice?

You sure picked the right Dom to ask this question to. My last collared, live-in slave was more – believe it or not – than thirty years younger than me. (Dexx can vouch for that!) As I recently released her, after more than eleven years together, I guess that makes me an “expert” on Master/slave relationships with extreme age disparities. One thing I have learned — there are both pros and cons in this situation. So, first let’s first examine the pros!One big advantage of age is experience.

Since you are more knowledgeable, BDSM-wise, than your submissive, you have already put a positive spin on your relationship. Even with just a few years head start, you will be able to dazzle your submissive with techniques that are only mastered over time. In fact, he/she might have chosen you because of your BDSM skills. I know many D/s couples where the age difference is cast in an exclusively positive light. “He is so much more experienced than I am.” “I learn so much about BDSM from my Master.” “I would never trust a Dom without him having many more years in the lifestyle than me.” These are the types of quotes I have heard, time and time again.

Believe me, your situation might raise eyebrows in the vanilla world. (“Is she your daughter?”) Here in our community, I have seen even greater age differences than mine and hardly an eyebrow (with a piercing!) was raised!Another reason this situation can work out so well in our lifestyle is that the older Dom/me likely has a large play and toy selection to keep his submissive happy! One reason so many vanilla May/December marriages die (or where the younger wife cheats!) is that the older man just simply can’t keep up with his younger wife – or compete with a younger man to satisfy her. Sadly, this is an unavoidable circumstance in the “sex-only–based” vanilla world. But, in our BDSM world, you have all sorts of play options that can keep your submissive flying, even if you can’t keep it up like a twenty year old.

For example, a long flogging session will excite a submissive more than any vanilla foreplay can. And, you can even put the submissive into sub-space – without any sex at all. Add sex into the mix, wow! No wonder the myth of submissives having a secret “Dom/me on the side” is less myth than fact. The appeal of a skilled Dominant to a submissive can never be underestimated. Since your younger partner is your sub, I see no reason why you cannot use your expertise to keep her enthralled for years. And, if you add a little Cialis, with the four-hour erection, into a long BDSM play session, your partner won’t be wanting for anything. Better living through floggers and chemistry!

However, there is one aspect to an age difference that can make it a more serious problem than many other issues — it is, by definition, irreversible. No Master or Mistress, no matter how skilled, can change that fact. Thus, to say age is never a factor would be wrong. In my case, my slave wanted kids; I did not. The fact that she wanted to have children while still in her early/mid thirties was not something that could be changed by order of the Master.

The biological clock is the biological clock. One must respect that. Another problem is the inevitable intrusion of the vanilla world into your realm. You have to be able to ignore the slings and arrows of disapproving peers. That it is often borne of jealousy does not make this scorn any less hurtful. I would basically ignore anything negative, especially from strangers. The fact that my relationship lasted almost twelve years is proof that it can be done.

Remember, if you use the positive aspects of your age and experience to your advantage, you will be fine. Judging by the number of May/December D/s couples I see, age will be the least of your worries!

Erotica: The Center Of The Circus

September 29, 2021 By Joji Sada 2 Comments

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I am a quiet and well-behaved slave. This is especially true in public. I do not speak beyond what is required of me as a hostess or unless directly addressed. I stay as close to Master’s side as possible while still fulfilling the tasks he has set forth when we have guests. I work to negotiate for Master when newer individuals get on the table, clean up between bottoms (and after the festivities), and I make sure Master is fed and hydrated. I monitor the unattached bottoms who visit, and I have my own gaggle of littles that I babysit.

While I am often busy keeping everything running smoothly, Master is often busy introducing individuals to electroplay.

To say we rarely get play time at a public event is an understatement. And when we do, it is reserved for the end of the night. Considering how much Sadomasochism is in our play, there are two factors we must consider.

Factor number one is Master’s energy level. He plays with twenty to thirty people prior to me. While more than half of the scenes are under 15 minutes, the up and down of the endorphins and adrenaline wears Him down considerably.

Factor number two is how many people, at the party, are new. It seems like an odd thing to factor into our play, doesn’t it? Theoretically, the only people who matter in a scene are the participants. But, in the real world, that is not the case.

We play rough. We play heavy. I have yet to safeword. And it scares people.

So, if we do scene, it is always at the end of the night, when most of the new people have left.

We play late to protect ourselves.

But, when we do, we become the center of our own circus.

Master thrives on the crowd. It is as though he absorbs the energy put out by them and channels it into his implements. I am sure I have seen his eyes glow from that same energy.

So, sit back, boys and girls, and let me tell you the story of a Sadistic Ringmaster.

I have been watching you for hours Sir. Over and over, men and women willingly put themselves on your table and cross. I watch your eyes light up with pleasure and the sinister smile slowly take over. Your creativity is beyond bounds. I have yet to see the same scene twice, even with tastings.

I never know quite what to expect. We have never played in public before Sir and my nerves are getting the best of me. You’ve told me that it was my choice to play or not. I know you want me up there, but I also know you will stand by your word.

It has taken most of the night, but I am ready to do this.

I can hear the shouts of the one in front of me. He is a masochist that I have seen you play with him before. He likes it hard and fast. I can tell, even from here, that he will have welts for a couple of days. I find it amusing when he climbs the cross. For being cuffed, he is quite flexible.

I wait until you have stepped away and the cross is empty. I see you cleaning everything you used. My stomach is in my throat, and I am struggling to find my voice.

I silently move to cross, standing slightly behind you to your left. I wait patiently for you to acknowledge me. It takes a few minutes. I wonder briefly if you have left me waiting on purpose, just to fuck with me.

“Hello, sweetie.”

“Hi Sir.”

“Is everything alright?” You turn to face me completely. Your hand rests on my shoulder and you give it a soft squeeze.

“Yes, Sir.” Deep Breath. “Will you flog me on the cross?” My insides are shaking. Why is it so hard to do this in public?

You raise an eyebrow. Without hesitation, you tell me to step up to the cross. I stand there for a minute, waiting. I see you grab the first toy and I get a very wicked idea.

“Are you ready?” You ask.

“Don’t you want to tie me up Sir?”

I see you smile. The game has begun.

My shoulders are tense. This is very new to me. Here I am, cuffed to the cross, in just my panties, waiting for what will happen next.

This is the easy part. I know better than to look. I won’t know the implement until you use it. How many do you think I can guess right?

Your body presses against my back. Your hand curves around my neck, but no pressure is applied. “Are you ready?”

Deep, shuddering breath. “Yes, Sir.”

“Safe word?”

“Red for stop. Yellow for check-in.”

“Good girl.”

With that, you step back. My body shivers in anticipation.

The first strike of the flogger hurts. I must force my shoulders to relax. I know that the more tense I am, the more I could hurt myself.

My eyes close as you find your rhythm. There is a steady heat building under my skin. This isn’t so bad. If I keep my eyes closed, I can forget everyone else is there. I feel you pause every so often. Sometimes your hands touch my skin and sometimes you switch the implements. The floggers are steadily getting stingier.

The room has fallen silent. Or, at least, I cannot hear them anymore. There is only white noise in my ears now. My head feels like it is swimming. My eyelids are heavy. My mouth feels glued shut. Even at the increasing pain, I have no drive to stop you.

Then there is a long pause.

I rest my forehead to the cool wood of the cross. I steady my breathing and wait. I can hear the murmurs of the people again, but I find I care far less now than I did at the start.

I don’t know how long you left me waiting. Even with my eyes closed, I can feel your presence.

Then, you shocked me.

Without any warning, I felt a firm whack to my ass. It’s the paddle.

Fuck. I hate those.

My eyes pop open, and my hands wrap around the chains holding me in place. “Fuuhhck.”

I hear you laugh. It’s a dark and rich sound that cuts through the static.

Two.

Three.

Then you change it up again.

It’s always in threes.

I have lost count of the number of implements. This is far from the flogging I initially asked for. Then again, you have blanket consent to do as you please with this body. And you never cease to surprise me.

Somewhere in between the paddles, you check in with me. I know you expect me to be honest. My body feels warm and on fire. I feel invincible.

You ask me how I am doing.

I turn my head until our eyes meet. My answer shocks you. “Is that all you’ve got, Magick?” There is no Sir or Master. I am challenging your reputation.

Bring.

It.

On.

Master.

The gasp of the crowd cuts through the static. I hear a lone voice warning me not to say that. But it isn’t you.

Our eyes stay locked for several moments. You smile wide. I think I have provoked the Dragon.

Well, there is no turning back now.

I break the eye contact, turning back to the cross, dropping my head, and baring my neck.

What have I done?

The room is silent. I can feel the eyes of everyone on us. I think I have shocked them Sir.

Without warning, I feel something thin and stingy hit my ass. Ow. We just went from a 3 or 4 to a 7 on the pain scale. I breathe deep. This is what I asked for.

My eyes stay closed, and I scrunch up my face as I breathe through the pain. This is what I was looking for Sir. I wanted to see your Sadistic side. I wanted to trigger the same intensity you give the other masochists. I wanted you to use me without fear.

The strikes no longer come in threes, nor do they have the same rhythm. I can tell you are still in control, but you want me to feel each strike. Without a steady pattern, I cannot zone out. I cannot sink into the sweet oblivion of sub space.

And you know it.

I lose track of time so easily under your touch. I don’t know how long we have been at this. My legs are starting to feel weak. My ass feels as though it is on fire. The only thing holding me up at this point is the tight grip I have on the chains.

I am not ready for this to end. I refuse to give after I issued a challenge.

I finally hear your voice, soft and gruff in my ear. “How are you holding up?”

“Good, Sir.”

Your hand rests on the back of my neck. It feels hot.

You step away and I mewl at the loss.

One.

That one takes my breath away. It was solid enough that I felt my body would go through the wall with the force.

Two.

Jesus Christ that hurt. Whatever that was has me nearly biting through my tongue.

Three. I have finally climbed the cross. This is the devil. I cannot feel the back of my thighs anymore. What on Earth did you use, Sir?

My body sags. I grit my teeth and lean against the wood. I am near my breaking point. But I do not want to stop Sir. I want you to know I can take anything you are willing to give. I cannot stop this. I won’t.

I feel you against my back again. Your body is solid as you pull me against you. My head drops back onto your shoulder. Your hands wrap around my torso and climb up to my nipples. Your fingers tweak them, tugging and pulling. All I can do is gasp. There is so much pain on my backside and the combination of pain and pleasure from my nipples is going to drop me right here. You tug them upward and bring me to my tip toes.

“You look so pretty when you climb the cross.”

I let out a soft gwaff. I don’t even have the energy to laugh right now.

You let go of my nipples and your arms holds my waist to keep me upright. “How are you pet?”

“I…I” Deep breath. “I…am good Sir.” I exhale loudly. “May I have some water before we continue?”

“Let’s get you down pet and then I will get you some water.”

“No, Sir. Please. We can continue.”

“Shh. You have done well pet.” I hear you ask someone to help undo the restraints.

Once my arms are free, they drop heavily to my side. I turn around in your embrace and rest my head on your chest. I feel very floaty Sir, almost drunk.

And very sore.

All I can think is Thank you, Master. That was one hell of a ride.

That was the first of many public play sessions. When he finished checking on me, I can proudly tell you that I not only walked away from the cross on my own two feet, I went back to hosting duties after. I was on a high for several days. It also brought about one of the longest (and lowest) sub drops I had ever experienced.

I asked what those last three toys were. The thick one that thudded (and felt like I would go through the floor) was a length of a fire hose. For future reference, it has physically knocked me off a spanking bench and has quite the power behind it.

The second toy (the sting that made me curse very loudly) was a length of weather stripping. It is very, very painful. It leaves wonderful marks.

The last (which made me climb the cross) is a serpentine belt. It is my favorite toy (and has been since that day). I learned during that session that the belt corners should be sanded down. We ended up drawing blood on my thigh and it left a mark for nearly three months. We honestly thought it would scar.

Please understand that our dynamic is a Total Power Exchange with blanket consent. While I asked for a flogging for this scene, he decided to push my limits. I wouldn’t change anything about this scene.

That includes challenging him.

No one else has the balls to do that. No one will go head-to-head with Master. That’s what makes me special. That is why I have the honor of wearing his collar. He says I keep surprising him.

As I said at the beginning, I am generally a quiet and well-behaved slave. But, when the lights come up and the Circus tents open, I get to challenge the Ringmaster at his own game.

And it keeps everyone coming back for more.

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.

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