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Schools of Thought

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There has been a tremendous, and woefully misplaced, push to homogenize everything d/s and bdsm so that it mirrors how things are done in non-d/s and non-kink relationships. The “nillification” of kink and alternative relationships.

It’s quite the hypocrisy, since alternative means DIFFERENT from the norm.

Consent must always be exactly the same for everyone at all times, everywhere.

Safe words must be used by everyone, and they must be the same words, used the same why by everyone.After care must be done by everyone exactly the same way.

Rope must always be done exactly the same way by everyone.

Dominants must be a certain way and adhere to specific standards laid out by people who don’t know them. (See every list of red flags every published. Except mine.)

Submissives must  – oh, never mind. There ARE NO standards for those calling themselves sub. They can do and be anything they fucking want and even their own partner has no say in the matter. The dom’s opinion is not required. Never lose sight of that.

These people are completely missing the point of a d/s or m/s relationship. They’re missing the entire point of kink and fetish. The point being that partners will conduct their relationship and their sexy fun time however they want, regardless who doesn’t like it.

I liken it to schools of martial arts.

The philosophical teachings of the Shaolin are NOT the teachings of the Ninja and never will be. Both differ from that of the Samurai. All three are entire ways of being unto themselves, with their own methods of fighting and their own way of teaching the forms and techniques of those styles.  

Aikido, karate, Tai Chi, Mui Thai, Capoeira, Hop Kido, Jujitsu, Tae Kwon Do – every form of martial arts has its own way of teaching and being. Learning from one does not invalidate the teachings of the others. Each speaks of its teachings in absolutes because they only teach their own philosophy. Their way is the way for them. They do not try to change how or what the other teaches or lives. They respect each other. 

They co-exist.

The student who doesn’t like what is taught leaves that school and finds another more suited to his personality, outlook and goals. Or starts his own school to teach his own Way. 

So it is with people living d/s lifestyles.  Every dominant has his/her own way of being and doing. Their own requirements for their submissives. They learned from someone, be it a mentor, an uncle or a father. There were role models at various points during their life. 

They take that learning and make their own way. We all do. We all learned from parents, grandparents, uncles/aunts, cousins, siblings, friends, people we admire, etc. We learn from people who write on the topic via blogs and books. We think and decide for ourselves what is useful and what is not. We decide for ourselves how we want to run our relationships. We see the mistakes made by others. We take all that forward with us into who we will be.

There are a number of behaviors I won’t tolerate from bottoms and submissives, and I’ve made no bones about that. But I’ve never told another dom that they must not tolerate it either. It’s not my job to tell another dom they have to use safe words how I use them (or don’t, as the case may be). I’ve never told another dom he has to do (or not do) anything the way I do. I teach my way and those who wish to learn from me, learn. They take what works for them and go off and learn from someone else, and another someone else. They develop their own way of being, as a result of having learned from several teachers.

During our lives, we have many teachers, whether or not we recognize them as such at the time.

WOW, are there a lot of people who want to tell me (and others who actually do this shit) how I should do everything. Anything I do my own way and not how they have decided it should be done, (as illustrated at the top of this article) becomes a war because I’m quick to say none of that crap is true.

It’s very simple: You don’t have to like how any of those things are done in any house but your own. You’re not IN that other dom’s house, following his standards and obeying his rules. If you so don’t like those rules, those standards and practices, you’d never be part of that house in the first place. Would you? You wouldn’t want to be.

There’s this notion that some stranger on the internet not liking the way things are done will automatically result in changes that suit them. Newsflash! The people running that house will not change their standards, or how things are done within their own house, to suit someone shaking their finger from the outside.

Every dom has the right to run their house how they choose. 

Every partnership has a right to run their relationship however they choose. 

It’s no one’s place to tell them how they have to do it. Yet we see it every single day, keyboard warriors who have zilch for experience telling others how to run their relationships, their houses, their lives. 

A whole hell of a lot of people need to keep their noses OUT of other people’s relationships.

We see posts declaring that consent must be enthusiastic and ongoing, and no one can do it any other way. Everyone absolutely must have safe words. Period. Soon as those people are confronted for their “my way only!” they often backpedal to say “oh, but every relationship is different”. 

The instant they say that, they have complete negated everything they’ve already said. 

When I confronted someone recently, she said to me “I actually meant it like this” and give some bullshit scenario completely different from what they’d originally said. That happens quite a lot too. People type just to see their own words and don’t really have anything of importance to say. They parrot what they’ve seen others say so often, without giving it any thought.

The fact of the matter is this: If you don’t reside in the house, it’s not your business to tell people IN the house how to run their business.

You can co-exist peacefully. I promise.

It’s called minding your own fucking business.

Also known as “not my circus; not my monkeys”.

 

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

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

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

 

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.

Slave To A Goddess

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Excerpt from DameTylerRose’s upcoming novel DREAM ON (expected in May).

“How may I please you, Empress?” he asked.

“With your mouth and your hands until I can’t cum anymore.”

He smiled and hopped to his feet. “That could take hours.”

“Indeed,” she replied, dropping the slinky nightgown onto the floor.

She sat on the edge of the bed, bringing a foot up to open herself. He looked on that wet flesh, reached a hand down to stroke up her t high, his mouth following.

“My Empress, with my mouth and hands, I worship you. I offer my body for use in your private pleasure,” he said.

Kisses up her thigh, hands soft and sliding over her skin. She was flush and plump in the labia. Slick and shimmering, with clitoris rising thick and round from its folds as his fingers parted the top half of her labia. Shew as still lush from her recent pregnancy, with full breasts and rounded belly.

He was delightfully skilled, and knew he was hitting the right spots when she needed to lie back on the bed. He pushed her knees far up and held them open as the Dragon would do. Channel shortened, his tongue delved deep into her to find and stimulate the textured G-spot behind her pelvic bone.

He loved the taste of her ejaculate, and knew how to make her squirt repeatedly. Her low groan and sudden shudder spurred him to more intense sucking down on her fattened clit. He gave her another good, hard cum that had her gasping for breath.

“Get up here. I need a cock,” she said a good 90 minutes into his attentions.

He didn’t have to be told twice. He could count on one hand the number of times his cock had known her. Always her anus. Always when her husbands were unavailable. Always with him on his back and she facing away. He was a disembodied cock for her to sate herself on, thrilled to be exactly that.

A slap of lubricant applied to his cock by her unkind hand and she was already lowering herself. Minute penetration of the tip, slowly up and down, taking millimeters more each time until she had cracked herself open. Jozef was not to help her by lifting his hips. Was not to participate at all. He couldn’t help his throaty roan, however. The reaming of two vigorous husbands had done nothing to stretcher her anus. Every single time, she’d been just as tight around him as ever.

Her muscles gripped tighter still as she began to ride. Long minutes he wished would never end as she rocked forward and back to take him all the way.

“I need harder,” she said, and was off him to put her face to the foot of the bed. “Fuck my ass hard as you can.”

Jozef said nothing, not about to ruin his moment. She’d never given this order before. He’d never been allowed to pump his hips toward her. He penetrated the same way she impaled herself, with repeated shallow strokes that deepened until he was stripping her out his whole length.

“Harder, dammit!”

He obliged, recognizing well those cries he made come from her. Many times, he had heard them under Dorn’s force, or the Dragon’s. She was a relentless, demanding lover. Insatiable and dynamic, like no woman he had known.

His climax nearing, knowing damn well he could not stop it, he used Jerome’s secret weapon of a trick. Left arm under her chest, he pulled her upright. Other hand reaching down, he rubbed hard over her clitoris with first and second fingers. That little sink, as her gut clenched, and her arms and legs pulled in out of her control. She locked in place, unable to move, and his climax erupted into her. He gave in to those last jerking spurts, knowing the lurching of his body would make her last orgasm all the more intense.

Read the Kingdom Key series in the USA: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B074CF9399

Not in the USA? Not a problem! Just copy the product code and past it into your country’s Amazon search bar. B074CF9399

————————-

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She’s been doing this BDSM stuff for 30 years in private and more than 10 years in public venues. 

She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty fiction books that you can find on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can find more of her work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

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

Twelve Lessons of BDSM

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Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows that I’m something of a philosopher. I have always been about the Why even more so than the How.

How is easy. Floggings and spankings and fucking and bringing a plate of food and a cup of tea and Yes, Master and doing my best to help him through a rough day. That stuff was always easy for me.

WHY can be much more difficult. Why is fraught with guilt and uncertainty, second-guessing and is this right or is it not? and should I be doing this?, am I this or am I that and?…Groups on different sites are stuffed to the gills with the various questions of the Why.

Though the concept is not new to humanity, I learned of the 12 Lessons of Taoism through my x husband and David Carradine’s Spirit of Shaolin book.

Going through some papers on my desk, a fold with red ink inside fell in front of me. The handwritten list of the 12 Lessons I’d jotted down a long time ago and had kept in my wallet for several years after I moved here.

Reading them over, I realized how readily they applied to BDSM as practiced in the really realz world. 

These are MY interpretations.

  1. There are no secrets.
    There are only questions and puzzles to which you do not yet know the answers.

I don’t mean you have to go ask questions in group threads and a zillion people will give you a zillion different answers and maybe have a fight over them. Not at all. You can’t trust that what you are told is truth and told by people who have real and practical experience.

I mean this stuff isn’t as mystical and magical as some might have you believe.

Anyone who has the inclination and aptitude can learn and do any of this stuff, and it means for you what it means for you. Quite a large number of us have figured out for ourselves that we’re dom, we’re sub, we’re a little of both, we’re sadist or masochist…or both. Some of us find great spiritual satisfaction in what we do and others know it purely as physical pleasure and there’s nothing spiritual about it.

It is for you what it is for you. It is for you whatever it needs to be to fulfill you – THAT is the great secret.

There is no super secret society one must first join in order to learn how to flog or how to tie rope. There’s no super secret society everyone must fulfill all the requirements of before they can be called a proper submissive. That is the stuff of fiction novels.

Reality is that there is no one standard for anything. My House is run differently from your house, each according to its own needs and desires.

That is as it should be.

  1. Follow the Heart
    Let your mind have its say, of course. You cannot lose your head while pursuing this. But for a great many of us, being sub or dom resides in our heart. For a great many of us, it’s not something we consciously chose but what we evolved into as a natural course of becoming a mature adult. It is our essence and not something we’ve struggled with much.

Our heart has said “this is what you are.” We listened and accepted our innermost nature.

If it is who you are, then go with it.

  1. Laugh at the cleverness of the Beast and the Beast will defeat itself.
    I love this one. I employ it every time someone tries to insult me. I call myself a cunt, the cunt from hell, meanest bitch they’ll ever meet, thus rendering the words impotent when someone else tries to hurl them at me. I laugh at the words and the person. I laugh at myself. I mock them and I mock myself.

Those people have zero power over me and I make sure they know it.

  1. Love, in the pain of its loss, is finally realized for the first time.
    Over and over we see it. How do you get over the loss of the relationship? I can never replace the dom I had.

We rarely realize what we have until we’re about to lose it. I went through this personally when EW fell on the ice at Bryant Park in November of 2011. A little harder of an impact and I’d have been a widow. Then he was diagnosed with skin cancer in several spots on his face and shoulder and went through numerous surgeries – two of them quite dramatic.

Fortunately the cancer had not spread to the point that it needed chemical intervention. But what would I have done if he’d hit so hard that he had died? What would I have done if one of the cancers had spread to his brain and he had died?

Open your eyes and see the good thing you have and balance the good and the bad before you go chucking it out the window over a minor tiff.

  1. Death Means Nothing to One Who Does Not Fear It
    I’ve stood toe to toe and eye to eye with Death. Death backed down and I’m still alive. I don’t fear many things and I fear no person.

But I do prefer NOT to tempt Fate. You never know when she’s going to take you up on your offer.

I will never say I’m no limits. I absolutely have limits, and quite a long list of them. lol Some are there because “that’s just gross, man” and others are there because I’m not insane. But I’m not afraid to lie back for EW to do whatever it is that he feels like doing to me. I’m not afraid for him to take me wherever it is that he’s going to take me during that session.

Will it mean my death? No, of course not. No sane person is going to WANT to kill their submissive during play and no sane submissive WANTS to be killed during play.

It means I do not hesitate to put my life into his hands.

I don’t have to negotiate every time we play. I don’t have to put on a thousand conditions and limits in order to feel safe and know nothing outside of my immediate sphere of acceptability will ever be done.

Evel Knievel broke nearly every bone in his body but it didn’t stop him from getting back on the bike and jumping the next big whatever.

So a little wraparound doesn’t bother us. We go back for more beating. A little rope burn is no big deal. Next chance we get, we’re all trussed up again and loving it. The lingering sting from a quirt well-laid is a comfort we relish.

This is BDSM, people. What a lot of us do IS NOT SAFE! We are mindful of the dangers inherent in the activities in which we engage, but those dangers do not stop us.

  1. You are your own greatest teacher.
    So many ways this can be applied.

You can have ten people standing around you, teaching you how to use the flogger. In the end, you have to figure it out for yourself.

You can have a dozen people telling you that you need to do this or that in order to be a good sub or a good dom, a good whip artist, a good rope artist. In the end, you have to do the work and figure out how it works BEST for you.

You can have 100 people telling you that you’re supposed to like doing this and that and the other in order to be a valid bdsm participant. But if you don’t like this and that, then you don’t HAVE to learn it. You don’t HAVE to learn to like anything. Like what you like and learn everything you want to and everything you CAN learn about it. Blaze your own path, as EW and I have with how we go about our clothespin play.

If you’re sub and you don’t have anyone to do all those fun pleasurable things with, you can DO THEM TO YOURSELF! Teach yourself about your own body and what it likes and what it doesn’t like. There’s no need to wait around for some dom to finally show interest enough to teach you stuff. You can learn to beat your own backside, to apply the clothespins to yourself, to whip your own thighs with a quirt. To do needles on yourself and make your own designs on your own thigh.

There is this erroneous belief that everything bdsm must be a team or partner sport when that simply is not true. Let go your need to have that special One. You already HAVE that special one and he/she resides inside your own head. Let THAT VOICE be your Master and direct your hands and drive you insane with teasing and denial.

I assure you that the Master in Your Head is likely to be far more cruel than most you’ll ever meet face to face. lol

  1. Kindness is cruelty. Cruelty is kindness.
    There are a great many people around these cyberland parts who like to hold the hands of the newbies and make it all gentle and nice.

Then those people get into a real play situation and FUCK ME! It’s NOT gentle! It’s NOT nice! Damn it all to hell that paddle fucking HURTS! This is not the role playing game I thought it was.

“Butbutbut…I’m supposed to dictate everything and call it hard limits and he’s supposed to strictly stay within those lines, but he laughed at me.”

It is a cruelty to hold the hands and make it all gentle and palatable. It is cruelty to let a brand-new-never-done-a-thing-but-think-I’m-so-slave think they will have everything exactly how they want it at all times.

And it is kindness when a sadist delivers a most cruel and excruciating pleasure to the one craving that touch.

It is kindness to tell someone they’re dreaming an unrealistic and unobtainable fantasy that doesn’t happen in real life. They may not think so at the time, but eventually they come around and realize how blinded they’ve been by the ardent desires they’ve allowed to run completely unchecked. And they’ll go forth with a bit more caution and a little more wisdom.

It is kindness to inform a brand-new-never-done-a-thing-but-think-I’m-so-sub that, no, they will NOT get everything they want. Submissives do not get everything their way because theirs is a position of GIVING OF THEMSELVES to another person’s pleasures and authority.

That is the definition of “submissive” – to give authority to SOMEONE ELSE.

  1. The Universe unfolds as it should – as it cannot help but do.
    You cannot force an outcome in your favor and preferences. It doesn’t matter how hard you want something to work out. If you’re not on the same page as your partner, it’s not going to work out at all.

The Universe has its own ideas of how things should be and you can fight it all you want and not be able to change a thing.

People still get cancer. Lovers outgrow each other. New subs outgrow their first Masters. Students outgrow their first teachers.

It cannot be helped. It is as it must be.

  1. Stop for charity, no matter the cost, and there will be benefit instead of cost. It does not matter for whom.
    Define charity as you will. Issues of personal safety demand I not pull over in the middle of the night to help the guy on the road with a flat tire.

However, I would not consider all the people I’ve helped to be charity…but helping is helping whether it’s making sure someone gets on the right train or off at the right stop or donating a few bucks to the medical fund or helping them to accept the deepest, darkest reaches of their soul.

  1. There are no prizes worth having
    I find it most dismaying, this notion that a collar is a goal to be coveted. That being slave, the lowest member of any society around planet Earth, is a lofty goal to reach above all other ways of being.

If you make the collar a prize, which is more valued? The accessory or the person wearing it?

If the prize is being slave regardless of personal inclination and talent and low societal stature, then where is the value in the person as an individual?

  1. Tie two birds together and they can fly – if they become one.
    If you want to succeed in a d/s relationship (in ANY relationship, regardless of kink or d/s level), you have to both have the same goals, want the same things in life and out of your relationship.

You have to operate as one cohesive unit rather than factions fighting against each other for supremacy.

Both have to know and understand their place within the relationship and fulfill the requirements of their role. If you are d/s or m/s, one of you is the authority and the other is not. If you think the s side of that slash is the authority in the relationship and holds all the power, then you have more relationship and perspective problems than anyone here can help you with.

If the two in the relationship do not work together in harmony, if they only struggle against each other in a mini war, then both will fall.

  1. The Ultimate Journey has no end – which is what gives it ultimate value.
    Just because you’ve gotten into your most coveted and long-sought relationship does not mean that is the end of who you are and shall ever be and the end of what you will ever do.

Having obtained the relationship does not mean you can now sit back and do nothing. You both have to WORK to keep it. Work to please Master. Work to keep the sub feeling secure enough and happy enough that she doesn’t want to go off and find another Master.

We are forever in evolution. We are forever learning, whether we realize it or not. Who you are now is not who you will be in five years, is not who you were five years ago.

We take on new interests. We explore new pleasures. 

No relationship ever remains exactly the same from start to finish. Neither does a person.

—

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She’s been doing this BDSM stuff for 30 years in private and more than 10 years in public venues. 

She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty fiction books that you can find on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can find more of her work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/
FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor


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

Master Rigio’s Fist

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“Look at me.”

Eyes open and locked onto his, no expression, awaiting orders or a scolding for some unknown transgression.

“I heard what you said to Lady Boldon about being happy with what I provide you. It pleases me that you are happy, Peeper. I am not going to ride you through every room of the apartment. Instead I will give you the promised clitoral climax in reward for your honesty and your good behavior today, and a good, long sodomy to go with it.”

She smiled and he lifted to lie on his left side, telling her to roll onto hers. He was in her ass in a minute with drive after drive until he was fully seated. He lifted her knee to brace her right leg on her foot and reached under her thigh to stroke her clit.

“I know you can’t have the big one with your legs spread, so you will keep yourself wide open until I say otherwise.”

“Yes, Master,” she breathed, undulating against him.

“Speak my name.”

“Rigio,” she whispered, breathless already.

His fingers started again, right on the very tip until she was shuddering and jerking beyond her own control on his cock, and squirted warm wetness. With her groan, he stopped and slipped his fingers through that wetness and into her puss.

“Such a good little slave. How about my fist inside you too?”

“Please, Rigio.”

“Hold your knee up for me.”

His fingers went back to the clit to make her jerk and squirt once more, keeping her going for a good minute before letting her rest. The top of her thighs were soaked, her cum dripping down onto the bed. His fist went to her opening again, sliding deeper and deeper into her until the barrier of her pelvic bone gave too much resistance. He pushed past it until his fist was in her and he could fuck her with it and she was giving those gruff full-throat cries he loved so dearly.

“You have been my favorite slave since the first time I was allowed to play with you, Peeper. So eager to learn how to please. So eager to offer yourself to Master’s pleasures. You never cared what was done to you so long as something was done to you,” he said, driving deep and pulled back just those two inches of room he had.

She was moving, humping his cock and grinding while the fist drove her on.

“Good girl. Ride me hard as you want to.”

For another minute or so, then he pulled his hand out and went back to the clit to make her cum and squirt some more. She gushed so hard she flooded her thighs and soaked the bed beneath them. Still he would not stop, making her do it again and a third time before thrusting his fist into her more forcefully.

“In your own words: No other man knows what to do with you,” he said. “Should I stop?”

“Please, no, Master. Please don’t stop. I beg you, please don’t stop now.”

He chuckled, liking the spontaneous begging. He gave her another good minute of his fist and teased the tip of her clit to make her gush another flood. She needed a good orgasm-fest.

“Property’s going to be very annoyed at us. I’m making you create a wet spot nearly as big as the bed.”

She giggled.

“Put your legs together.”

She obeyed and his fingers changed position to come down through the top of her labia to stroke in the manner that gave her the finishing clitoral orgasm. She humped his fingers and the cock in her backside incessantly, in the frenzy of her blind need. Her little whimpers, so desperate and distressed, were as adorable as he’d ever made her make in the woods and tents in Mida.

“Good girl. Fuck my hand and cock. Take your reward, greedy little cunt. Take it now!”

The orgasm seized her at once from head to toe in that way he knew, and he pushed his hips forward to stretch her out from behind. Her jerks backwards only drove him deeper into her and he bumped forward each time. She gripped hard with her hands, one on his arm and the other on the bed, and her hand tried to push his away at the pinnacle. He grabbed that naughty hand with his free arm and pinned them both over her head and kept going until she was nearly in tears with the overload of sensation. Then he stopped and gave her puss twenty good, hard spanks before releasing her entirely.

When she went into the convulsions of continued climax, as she so often did, he waited for the first to finish and turned her onto her side again. He plunged into her anus and fucked her harder through those reverberations everyone else let her ride out and fall asleep after. When the next came, he gave her clit tiny touches to keep her on that edge as long as possible. She relaxed, gasping for breath and he continued to ride her, giving her no break.

Over and over she was gripped with an aftershock climax nearly as intense as the clit popping orgasm itself, and he rode her ass constantly through every one. He counted eleven times before it seemed there were no more. He rolled her onto her belly to continue his harsh riding, mercilessly ramming into her now that she was silent and slack under him and her limbs lacked strength.

“Should I stop now?” he asked, not slowing his motion.

“No, Master. Never stop.”

“Lift to your elbows.”

She obeyed and he slid his hands palm up under her to grip her breasts and pinch her nipples and make her squeal.

“Pain for the sake of making you feel pain,” he said. “Because, now your passion is spent, it’s just pain and holds no pleasure for you. Is that right?”

“It is, Master,” she squirmed and squealed with the intense jolts of pain to her nipples.

“Now you are orifices for use because you get nothing more out of it. Maybe that is how I should keep you. Hmm? Maybe I should force that clitty-gasm before I fuck you so you get no more pleasure and you can remember what it was to be a slave not allowed to like the fucking. Should I do that?”

“Whatever pleases you, Master,” she said, and her gut clenched so hard that she was bucking uncontrollably under him in a new sort of orgasm and screaming into the pillow.

“That’s it. Cum harder, Thrall.”

She settled into guttural grunting with each new buck of her hips, which finally sent Rigio into his own set of jerking thrusts to pop off a load like he used to as as young man. He pulled out at once and she collapsed onto the bed, shaking visibly.

“Rest. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He needed to wash again, his Midan fastidiousness about anal secretions not allowing him to leave it long or go to sleep without being clean first. He returned to find she’d not moved, and the dark wet spot around her was indeed nearly as wide as the bed.

“Come on. To my bed.”

“I can’t. My legs won’t hold me up,” she said, dizzy and quiet in her dream space haze.

Her legs weighed a ton but he made her try anyway and found she did not lie. Not that she ever did. Her legs literally would not support her weight and she fell against him. He picked her up over his shoulder to carry and place on his bed. He brought her half a cup of wine, which she drank down quickly. Cup aside, he moved in behind her to hold her close while they slept. Some hours later, she woke with legs strong enough that she could walk to use the toilet and then find the pitcher of water and drink half of it in one thirsty gulp after another.

“Go to the napping room now,” he told her. “Spend the rest of the night there until I call for you.”

 

Excerpt from Peeper Gloriana

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00PCFX58C

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About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

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

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

 

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.

BDSM Activity Discussion Sheet

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A couple years ago, someone posted an idea he’d had for a new way to conduct activity negotiations and discussions. Instead of the standard Will do/Not do & Hard Limit list, the list he came up with contained qualifiers for liking or not liking a thing. Unfortunately, that person completely vanished, so I could not reach out to collaborate. I didn’t remember exactly his headings, so I’ve made my own version. I’ve put it into spreadsheet form.

https://dametylerrose.files.wordpress.com/2017/05/activity-list-reward-duty-punishment.pdf

It gives both parties an opportunity to understand how the other views that particular activity. Do they see it just as a duty to be done and don’t particularly enjoy it? Discuss that together and reach a conclusion for how to handle those things. Is it something so very much enjoyed that it could be used as a special reward or treat, if you want a reward system in your dynamic? Discuss it.

I have NOT added actual activities. I’m not going to make a list of the 500,000 things. No such list would ever be complete. There would always be things left off and it would be an overlong waste of space and paper when there are twenty things in a row that neither party cares about.

By leaving the lines blank, I give you the opportunity to create your own activity list specific to yourselves. There is a space on the side for notes. It will be inadequate, of course, but that’s what the back of the paper is for. And loose leaf. This isn’t the end-all-be-all of forms. It’s a starting point.

There are 40 lines on which to write your activities. That should be enough to get anyone going in discussing their most important interests. You can print it out as many times as you want. Yes, the line numbers will duplicate, but that is hardly relevant. Just label the second printing “Set 2” and so on.

What should I put in the activities box?
Be specific. Saying “Impact” is way too broad a subject. I could fill up half the sheet with individual impact items. Hairbrush, wooden spoon, knitting needle, yardstick. Flogger — that alone would have several entries as well. Flat tailed, round braid, knotted, rubber. Whips — also a broad topic now, with makers creating things with one tail, braids that come down to three tails, etc. I’m not going to go into all that.

Basically, whatever is in the toy kits (top’s and bottom’s alike) is what should be on the list. It may happen that the bottom might have an implement that the top isn’t comfortable using. That has to be discussed too.

Include HOW you use them.
Bondage is going to mean one thing and suspension something else entirely. Needle play — does a person mean skimming under the skin to make designs? Or using push pins and just poking them directly into the skin? These are the things that need to be discussed as you fill it out together. Write in the activity, discuss it, and check the appropriate box. Add any notes as necessary.

Make a complete messy mess of it.
You can always print out another to make a nice neat copy of.

Yes, do it together.
As the top, please do not just plop things into it and hand the thing over. That is entirely counter-productive to the purpose. Build the list together, one item at a time. Mark them by name as referring to the preferences of one party or the other where there is overlap in giving or receiving.

Talk talk talk talk about it.
It is a common thing: Ask someone a yes/no question and they will more often just say no. It’s easier. There’s no thought to it. That’s why I’ve put Reward as the first selection, to at once put a person in a positive state of mind, more open and receptive.

I expect you will learn far more about each other’s likes and dislikes, and the thought processes behind it all than with a standard willdo/won’tdo list. Give it six months and go back to your list and re-examine your positions. It often happens that, with time and experience, things that someone used to hate have become dearest loves. Or vice versa.

If you have any questions or aren’t sure how to go about initiating the discussion, you can find me on Fetlife as DameTylerRose or email me at LIST@taobytyler.com

—

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She’s been doing this BDSM stuff for 30 years in private and more than 10 years in public venues. 

She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty fiction books that you can find on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can find more of her work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/
FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor


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

Popping The Pussycat

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“I promise you we’ll get there,” he said gently, taking her hand from his crotch to put it atop his shoulder instead. “In my own time and in my own way. That is the Gar in me. I don’t want or need for you to do anything for me. All I want is for you to respond naturally, however what I do inspires you. Whatever noise, whatever movement. That is where my pleasure lies. Don’t put on a show of it in any way.”

She nodded, captivated by the calmness in his dark eyes and the rumble of his voice in that big chest.

The leg she was straddling came up to put her entire weight on her sex and his thigh. Her arms went rigid to balance herself until she found a place to put the toe of her shoes and brace her legs back and out of the way. Pulling her forward slightly around the waist put pressure at the top of her open vagina. The pressure on that delicate spot made her gasp a little, confirming the presence of a clitoris, which Voranian women did not have. 

He stole her breath with feather light touches to her breasts that popped her nipples out like little marbles. Soft, smooth fingertips strummed sideways across them.

“Can you cum from this?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, eyes closing with a surge of arousal.

Fingers strumming faster, like playing a guitar, pressing in for a firmer stroke. Her legs strained. She squirmed, shifting her pelvis and hitting just the right spot. Combined with the demand of his fingers, she shuddered in a small climax. He felt a small, wet warmth spread through his pantleg.

He kissed her, palm pressing over her entire breast, and enjoyed the wetness of her tongue touching his without any prompting on his part. He lowered his knee, holding her firmly to guide her down to lie on the incredibly sumptuous rug. Fur against her naked skin, having been made to cum by a new lover.

“I made your pants wet,” she smiled at the darkness in the middle of his thigh.

“I shall cut that square from the material and carry it in my pocket so I can smell you whenever I want,” he said, opening the garment to remove it.

She laughed. “You would not!”

“Indeed I would,” he said, taking the knife from the back pocket.

He thrust the angled tip into the material and sliced, producing a triangle the size of his hand. He lifted the wet center to his nose to inhale, closing his eyes for the briefest of seconds.

“Mmmm. Very nice.” He tossed it aside, closing the balisong with fast flips of his wrist. “I will soon taste it from the source.”

He came to lie beside her, his big hand sliding up her thigh. She became aware of an odd pressure to the side of her vulva, increasing, stealing her breath away with each passing second as it built.

“What is–? Oh, my,” she gasped.

He slipped a finger inside and pressed thumb on the outside to finger on the inside, pinching firmly but without pain. Warmth spread through her channel as she made whimpering mewling sounds and squirmed beside him. He moved himself in close, to feel her writhe against his chest and belly. Finger and thumb rolled slowly and her astonishment came out in a loud, sharply pitched note of a cry. He kept on, knowing she’d not hit it yet. Wetness lubricated his finger and he slipped a second in to roll against the pad of the thumb.

At once her back arched sharply, breasts jiggling wonderfully. The shriek from her throat was as surprised as the sudden and harsh reaction of her body. As she lay there with eyes closed, panting for breath, his thumb released to allow the fingers to slowly glide deeper into her.

“Was that good?”

“Oh, my god! That was fantastic,” she blurted.

“I’m glad. That sweet spot is unique to Voranian women. It’s called Popping the Pussycat.”

Excerpt from Ties That Bind

——-

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.

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

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

 

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.

 

Lie #25 Consent Is Not Different In BDSM

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In my continuing series of excerpts from my 50 Lies Told to New People About BDSM book, this week I’m tackling the murky waters of consent. Note that this piece is edited and expanded from the book entry.

There are a lot of people who think consent is not different in any way. They want to make the issue black and white, but it’s not. There are always variables and extenuating circumstances to take into consideration.

In a nutshell: In June of 2018, a judge in Australia dismissed a very controversial (at least on a couple social websites) assault/rape case.

“The magistrate noted that because violence was intrinsic to the S&M scene, conventional notions of consent did not necessarily apply. He cited video evidence of [redacted]’s previous encounters with one of the alleged victims, which were consensual despite her crying and saying ‘no more please’.”

This is actually an important moment for all Edge players, in this age of buyer’s remorse, with so many people retroactively rescinding consent and the slightest mistake by a top/dom being likened to rape.

There are huge fights in forums, spilling across multiple groups and dozens of writings within a single website. One side wants to enforce vanilla (conventional) standards of consent where they don’t belong, and the other side points out the reality of the situation. 

The reality is that once the agreements regarding aspects of consent (or the removal of it) are made, and the action begins, nilla sensibilities cease to apply in the bdsm context. Of course, “no means no” when you’re just having conversation; when you’re at the party and haven’t agreed to play/have sex; when you’re not in a relationship with someone; when you haven’t made an agreement to suspend the conventional notion of consent in any way. I’m not saying any dude can walk up to any chick (or vice versa) and hump them and say “hey, that’s bdsm!”

That’s not what we’re talking about here.

We’re talking about specific interactions and relationship types in which the participants have agreed to suspend conventional applications of consent. I will illustrate why/how consent is different between certain bdsm situations and non-kink “vanilla” (conventional) situations. 

Those differences are the crux of what makes BDSM “deviance”. Pretending those conventions always apply is a dangerous lie to tell new people.

Look up the synonyms for “conventional” – Conservative, conformist, unadventurous. Does any of that sound like BDSM to you? It sure doesn’t to me. BDSM is about all things NON-conformist and adventurous.

Let’s examine the how/why one hot-button topic at a time. You will have seen me cover many of these in earlier Lies. This time, I am going to cover a different angle.

A: Safe Words

The original purpose was as a code word so that the bottom/sub could scream NO and STOP at the top of their lungs and play would not stop. The bottom could be screaming bloody murder nononononostopstopstop, but so long as they did not say the special code word, the top could keep going.

There is no one standard for all bdsm participants. Using/recognizing no and stop is an individual choice, decided upon between the people in the encounter/relationship. 

The traffic light system, while commonly used at public venues, is not universal either. If the safe word between them is kumquat, the bottom can scream red and the top can ignore it. They may get kicked out of the venue for their choice…but it IS their choice.

Conclusion: If a bottom can say no and stop and, by agreement, play doesn’t stop until they say the correct code word…then consent is different in bdsm than it is in the non-kink “conventional” setting/encounter.

B: Not Using ANY Safe/Stop Word

The bottom agrees to not have a safe word, to have no power whatever to stop the action, whether they like what is happening or not. They agreed it wouldn’t stop until the top/dom decided to stop. 

This is a lot more common that a hell of a lot of people want to admit. They call the top/dom all manner of vile names, and throw accusations of abuse and breaking the law. They call the sub/slave brainwashed, mentally ill, in denial. They can’t fathom that this is something eagerly sought after by some subs/slaves. The second anyone says they don’t have a safe word, the fur starts flying.

Conclusion: If the bottom cannot make things stop at all, no matter what they say, then consent is different than in non-bdsm/kink situations. Conventional concepts of consent do not apply.

C: CNC relationships. 

It gets damned tedious to constantly be asked over and over and over and over if it’s okay to do the same thing you’ve always done together. Blanket Consent, Consensual Non-Consent, takes that tedium out of the equation.  

The sub/slave says “Yes, I consent to not have to give consent again” at some stage of the relationship. This is also a common arrangement.

From then on, if the dom wants sex, the dom bends the sub/slave over and fucks them wherever they happen to be in the home. (Taking into consideration present company, of course.) There is no asking the sub/slave every time the dom wants sex. This is normal in the CNC setting. 

The dom decides they want to issue a flogging or a spanking. They can say “get the fuck over here and brace against the wall so I can beat you.” They don’t have to ask if the sub is in the mood.

The sub/slave complains “that’s too hard” and the dom says “that’s too bad.”  This is normal in a CNC relationship.

The dom wants oral sex. “Do you feel like sucking my dick today?” isn’t a question unless the dom feels like saying “that’s too bad because you’re going to do it anyway.” 

This is not how it’s done in the non-kink/conventional/”vanilla” relationship. In conventional relationsihps, both parties are expected to have equal input to the positive and the negative. 

A d/s relationship is inherently inequal.

In the non-kink/conventional context, coercion is abuse. Coercion and force are common in the bdsm CNC relationship. They are often cited as being the hottest part of the arrangement.

Conclusion: Consent is different in the CNC relationship.

Does all this mean that any dom can demand service from any sub/slave? Only if they are at an event for which those ARE the rules. I don’t think I’ve seen that party advertised yet, unless it was a female dom/male sub tea. Those don’t usually include any form of SM play.

D: Can’t Leave the Relationship

There are a number of subs and slaves who say they cannot leave the relationship. This always brings out the “OH YES YOU CAN TOO!!!” people. Because LAWS!

“Can’t leave” is usually part of the CNC relationship, but I’m going to give it its own explanation.

In a non-bdsm situation, disallowing the partner from leaving is unlawful imprisonment. There are shelters for women to escape to.

In a bdsm relationship situation in which it was agreed upon at the start that the sub/slave is not allowed to end the relationship, making the sub/slave stay when they try to leave is simply the dom enforcing their end of the agreement. 

In every “can’t leave” discussion, there are several subs and slaves who tell their individual stories of what happened when they tried to leave.

What astonishes me is this assumption that because they cannot leave, they must always want to leave. The notion that the sub/slave is content in the relationship, a relationship they intentionally agreed to, never enters into the equation.

Conclusion: Consent is different in this type of bdsm relationship.

There are other aspects in which consent is different. These are the big ones I see most often disputed.

People are always shouting about getting everyone on the same page. Okay, here it is, but it’s not the page a lot of people think it should be because it’s not the vanilla, conventional, version of consent. 

Whether they like it or not, consent IS DIFFERENT in bdsm. 

Understand what you are getting yourself into when you decide to play games with consent.

——–

About the Author

TylerRose is a real-world sadomasochist with over 30 years of relationship experience.

She 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

And the other 49 Lies Told to New People About BDSM: And read the other 49 lies in her book 50 Lies Told to New People About BDSM: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07HVS2H2T

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.

Shadows Of The Night: Dimitrius

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His fingertips pulled her chin toward him for a gentle kiss she didn’t hesitate to return. A nice kiss that expected nothing, wanted nothing, took nothing. A giving kiss. She’d not had one of those in a long time. Not since her one night with Jerome.

“You’re some kind of fantastic. You know that?” he said quietly.

She only smiled and kissed him again, a small box coming to her fingers and she lifted it for him to see. A box of three condoms.

“You don’t have anything and I don’t have anything,” she said. “I can’t get pregnant anyway. But you like putting one onto your fingers to slip up the back side and I very much like a good double penetration. I’ll do bareback vag to ass, but not ass to vag.”

His brain stopped. Staring at the box and then looking into her eyes again. “I’m not ready to love. It’s too soon.”

“Neither am I,” she replied. “It’s not about love and I’m not asking for a relationship. It’s about want and need and sharing things we both enjoy a great deal. I need to know it can be good again. I don’t even want foreplay right now. I need penetration and lots of it, so go as long as you can.”

That was good enough for him. He pulled her jeans off, taking the bikini underpants with them…and tried to ignore the bruises covering her from top to bottom. She pulled her shirt over her head while he undressed.

His warm, curly-fuzzed chest against her cool breasts, his chocolate caramel skin against her pale, soft lips on hers as he leaned on his hip between her thighs. Her small hand grasped his hardening shaft in the casual stroke of an experienced woman.

“You can tell me to stop. Right now,” he said.

“No, I can’t. I need it too much. Please.”

“Please it is,” he said, turning into position to drive his cock all the way in.

She flinched a wince with the pain she’d expected, and gave a relieved groan when the sensation passed. That fast, it was only good. Lifting her hips to take him as far as he could fit, she sighed away the world. 

Balls deep on the first undulation, he took to his slower rhythm for a good, long riding. Taking her through several hard cums, he was in no hurry to have anything finished.

“Are you ready for the other now?” he asked after he’d given her a few more.

“Please.”

Still inside her, he paused to open the box and rip open a package. Condom rolled onto his middle two fingers, he reached around her thigh and under to find the tight center of her anal opening. One fingertip at first, to start to open her, then the other, sliding that first half inch, then the full inch, driving deeper and deeper with each until he was fucking her ass the full length of his fingers. 

She started the humping on her own, needing more and taking his double penetration for another good, long time. He couldn’t hold off his ejaculation anymore.

“Don’t stop your hand,” she hurriedly gasped when she thought he would stop. “Please. Keep going.”

He did, taking her onto her side face to face for more kissing while she held him tight and sighed and groaned her bliss.

“You like a long ass fuck a lot more than most women I’ve known,” he commented when she was still able to cum half an hour later.

“I adore it. When you can get hard again, I want you to fuck it with your cock as hard as you can for as long as you can.”

“Hard?”

“Very hard.”

“Like this?” he said, and rammed his fingers into her far harder.

“Fuck, yes!” she groaned, liquid cum gushing from her puss.

“I like how much you cum,” he said when she grunted out another one a moment later. “My cock is getting hard. You still want it?”

“Fuck yes!” she gritted out, shuddering against him.

“Then get on your knees and open your ass for me.”

But he didn’t stop his hand. She had to do it while his fingers were still working in and out of her. Turning onto her knees first, backing to the edge of the bed and parting her knees wide, cheek to the mattress and puss pulsing hard, all the while his hand giving her no respite.

Once she was in position, he pulled his fingers out and stripped the condom off inside out. Another on his cock, he was in her hard to the base, and bent over to kiss her flaming hot cheek.

“Jerome was a stupid fool not to take you back to your home that night. How hard you want me, baby?”

“Like you intend your cock to come out the top of my head.”

That’s what he gave, her loud screams into the mattress spurring him on. He reached around her hip to find the point of her clitoris. Wide open, exposed and vulnerable, a touch made her give an involuntary yelp of surprise. He took to tapping it twice in a row every twentieth (or so) thrust into her, keeping her on the edge of a clitty popper until she was pounding a fist into the mattress. Then he kept patting continuously until she went into the full body gripper orgasm. His body slamming into hers while she shuddered violently on her knees, she was as passionate as some she-beast.

“More, baby?”

“Yes!”

He pulled out, pulled the condom off, flipped her over onto her back and rammed himself hard into her soaking wet puss. She was beyond insatiable, completely lost to her own lust and greedy need. Limbs drained of all strength yet she still managed to lift her hips to fuck him back. Her arms far overhead, he placed his hands over her bruise-covered breasts to grip and brace himself. She only came again. 

He finished off with a mighty groan, and came back to the physical place. The movie’s credits were rolling. They’d fucked through the entire two hour and fourteen minute movie.

“God damn, woman! You always fuck like that?” he asked, falling behind her on the bed while she turned onto her side to face the television.

“When I need to,” she said, flicking a finger out to start the tape rewinding.

——

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

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

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

 

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.

 

On Begging

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In the comments of one of my previous articles (Stoicism is Not a Gauntlet Thrown Down, www.kinkweekly.com/article-guest-author/stoicism-not-gauntlet-thrown ) I was asked a few questions.

I thought I would take the time to address the issue in general.

“Have you written any articles on begging?”

Not really, until now. While I appreciate being asked nicely, and having bottoms ask politely for what they want, I’m not into making them beg. I don’t make them ask repeatedly. I’m not into humiliation games.

“I am struggling with the right things to say to please my mistress.”

You will have to ask her what the “right things” are. You have to open your mouth and make words to ask her “what words would you find most pleasing?” (Or something to that effect.) They don’t have to be the perfect words at first, because you’re just now asking what the perfect words are. The important thing is starting the dialogue, awkward as that may be.

If she says that you’ll “have to figure it out”, then you have a decision to make. Do you want to continue in a relationship that leaves you floundering right when you need help the most? In which you have zero guidance and your dom won’t communicate with you?

Or do you end the relationship and search for someone who will be more supportive of your efforts to please?

There is this urge to please, to do more. It’s not always necessary. Sometimes a sub is over-eager and wants to do more than the dom wants of them. Sometimes you just have to take a breath, calm down a little, and settle into what the dom wants of you. It’s okay to sit together in silence and do…nothing. Being together, being that companion, may be quite satisfactory.

This is part of that communication thing we’re always hammering on about. So start the conversation.

“She gets frustrated with me.”

Is she frustrated with you or with herself for not communicating more clearly what she wants? 

This isn’t all on you. Relationships are 50/50. It takes two to tango. (I’ll add some more clichés if I think of them.) Both parties have to be engaged and working for a stable dynamic. If one is not engaged and putting in the effort, the other may well get tired of trying to carry the entire load without any encouragement. I’ve been there myself. It contributed to the demise of my second marriage.

 “I really want to be a good slave so people will realize what a great mistress she is.”

You can be a terrific slave and she a crappy mistress. One is not necessarily the result (or the impetus) of the other. 

If you’re trying but the dom is giving you no input on how to improve, or the most basic information on what they want, I think you seriously need to examine the relationship and address these issues directly.

If you have a hard time coming up with words to speak, write them down when you’re apart. Just a simple list. Number them. Then sit down away from the playroom and have a serious heart to heart conversation.

Note that I don’t say “outside of the dynamic”. I don’t believe in putting a dynamic on hold (especially a 24/7 d/s dynamic) just to have a conversation. There’s no reason you can’t be on your knees at her feet to discuss the issues you face.

“I assume the begging is different a male sub to a femdom vs a female sub for male dom. Is that correct?”

Since I don’t make subs/slaves beg, I really wouldn’t know the answer to that. I don’t think it really matters all that much for the purpose of this article. Begging is about control. The one doing the begging doesn’t have it. The one making you beg does.

It’s not, however, always a matter of humiliation. 

My former dom would sometimes make me beg to have an orgasm during sex. It wasn’t a humiliation thing, but a buildup of repeated denials that led to an explosive orgasm when he finally said yes.

Whether or not begging is a form of humiliation play is an individual matter. For some people, it is. For others it is not. It might be humiliation for the bottom but not the top. It might be a power-trip for the top and a huge sexual turn on for the bottom.

It’s not a matter of which way is “correct”. They all are. 

It’s more a matter of identifying what triggers it trips and making sure that both parties are consenting to the activity itself.

—-

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and 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.

Naughty Word Caning

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“Bring the slave to me fully prepared for punishment. Take the nipple jewelry out,” he told Jacek, and turned his back on them to walk down the left side of the apartment.

Master’s side.

Reah went into the slave hall side and was stripped down and flushed out in both orifices. The gold bars with rubies and diamonds were removed from her nipple piercings. A small thing, but it measured his displeasure. If he ordered them removed, she was the lowest of the low slaves until he put them back in. Only the gold chain he’d had sealed on her, and the flower bracelet on her wrist, remained to adorn her. Jacek did not even put a flower in her hair.

“Time to pay for what I said,” she muttered, and went through the narrow corridor between slave room and toilet room.

Preece was in the front sitting room reading a letter. His thin cane and the leather muzzle were already on the seat beside him. She was definitely going to pay for her impertinence.

“Let yourself out, Jacek,” he said, not looking up from the letter.

Jacek bowed his good night and departed, leaving Reah on her knees waiting in the silence. She waited a good while in posture with her arms behind her back and head bowed, knowing better than to speak out of turn when he was already unhappy with her behavior.

“Put the muzzle on.”

She knew how, and secured it firmly. Long minutes more with her jaw held shut and he all but ignored her, turning the paper over to read the back side.

“Sit on the slave chair,” he finally said.

The chair pseudi had been strapped in many times, held open for use by the men of the chamber. She sat on the edge of the seat, knowing he would place her however he wanted her configured. No doubt she’d get a caning across her puss with that super thin shaft that bit deep and bruised for days. She hated it and she loved it at the same time. She loved to hate it and hated to love it.

He was always quiet before issuing a punishment, his silence part of the whole to build her anticipation and clear his own mind for what he would do. He would be the picture of self-control, doing exactly what he wanted to the degree he wanted and going no further. At last putting the letters down, he stood to come toward her in that slow pace she knew too well. 

Deliberateness.

If Preece was one thing, deliberate would be that thing. Every action had a purpose for her or for himself. Everything was thought out, to the smallest motion and detail. While he disliked the reasons for having to punish, he could not say he did not like enacting it.

“Hands.”

She lifted them to him and he pulled her arms backwards over her head to be locked into the cuffs attached by a very short leash to the back edge of the chair. Elbows pointed up, the position was at once awkward.

“Bend at the knee. Feet back.”

Her ankles were quickly cuffed to the chair’s front legs. This kept her buttocks toward the edge of the seat. She couldn’t go too far back because her arms wouldn’t bend that far. Couldn’t go too far forward because her ankles could not be moved. She was open from breasts to knee, and forced out even more when he shoved two pillows behind her into the void between her back and the curve of the chair. They would take her weight and prevent her from pulling her spine backwards more than an inch or so. She could not escape, no matter how she squirmed.

He brought the thin cane over, lovingly stroked its length between finger and thumb tips as he looked down at her vulnerability.

“You know very well not to use curse words when speaking to me. Your fucking country, is it? It’s my fucking country too, and I will not have you sounding like a common fucking whore.”

The cane swung down, landing across the top of both breasts at once and leaving a crimson stripe that swelled to a welt at once. The deep stinging bite of it sprang forth a scream and tears of an unexpected sort.

“My slave does not speak foul words or she is not permitted to speak until it is time to put on Queen’s clothes again,” he said, and struck again. “I did not give her the power of speech for her to speak like a street walking prostitute.”

So she knew the muzzle would probably be on until morning. Struggling in the cuffs, held in place and squirming, there was nowhere to go to get away from his punishment. There never was.

“My wife does not speak foul words or she does not get my love.”

A third strike, horizontal and landing just above her nipples and her screams went on for nearly half a minute as the pain of it worked its way through the layers of breast tissue and out over her skin in the tingling fire she both hated and adored.

“If my slave needs a beating, there are certainly better ways to go about it.”

Fourth strike slightly lower, directly onto both erect nipples. He wasn’t swinging nearly as hard as he could and she knew it. The stick caught her under the arms scant seconds into her screaming reaction to the measured and accurate strike. He was always so bloody accurate.

“Keep those arms up,” he said with a quick whap to the underside of her right arm.

Then between her thighs, back and forth smart and fast.

“Open that cunt.”

Her knees parted and he stood between them to give her a sharp vertical strike to the puss. Her bottom bounced on the edge of the seat, body twisting as her thighs pressed together around the cane.

Solid taps to the outside of a thigh.

“Open back up.”

Heaving for breath after breath, sweating with the effort of taking this kind of intense pain, she opened her knees. Another strike would be forthcoming but disobeying would get her far worse than obediently taking what he chose to dish out. He stepped between her knees and she got several more painful whaps to her labia. Unable to close against his legs, she could only screech and howl in the muzzle. The end of the cane pressed under her chin to lift it and make her look at him.

“The punishment for foul words keeps getting worse every time I have to issue it, doesn’t it?”

She nodded, whimpering with the continuing sting to breasts and puss and tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

“You’d think you’d learn the lesson already,” he said, moving aside to give her a strike to the top of her breasts where the first had been.

Three more, placing them as he’d done the others but landing one after the other in faster succession to keep her howling and sobbing in the extreme pain. This was no reward for a foul mouth and they both knew it. A few naughty words was not worth taking this harsh punishment.

He left her to suffer and cry it out, pouring himself a small whiskey and savoring every minute of her distress. He waited for her to calm and quiet before approaching once more. Just that motion, of turning to her with the cane in hand and taking his place, was enough to send her into a fit of fresh tears. 

He gave her a third set of stripes over the first two, to drive the lesson home before wiping the cane with the soft cloth and putting it back into its carved case. Hung in its place, he walked up behind the chair and crouched low to kiss her temple. Hands reaching around to cup her breasts, thumbs strumming those beaten nipples, and she keened a renewed cry with her back arching high. A different kind of cry, overloaded with pleasure and pain. Orgasmic.

“The punishment that keeps on punishing,” he said close to her head, and snapped his finger onto a nipple in one of those hard stingers Jacek had so liked to use in discipline.

She gave an involuntary yelp, a single note that greatly pleased the Beast in his belly.

“Will you be more mindful of your language?” he asked, and stung the other nipple to hear it again.

She nodded, screeching into the muzzle and writhing in the cuffs in a most adorable way.

“I will punish you harder next time, you know.”

He gave her a double stinger, his cock hardening to marble with the sounds  she made for him. He let her out of the wrist cuffs but held her arms there a moment while he smacked those already striped breasts. The color, bright red stripes crossing over each other across her white pale. Welts swelling long and thick from one side all the way to the other above her breasts and the twin lines on the fullness of both beautiful…

Out of the ankle cuffs with hard pulls. He could not wait any longer.

“Punishment is over except for the muzzle. Get on my bed. Face down, ass up.”

Excerpt from Peeper Ascendant

——-

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.

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

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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.