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Why Humiliation Is Exciting To Many

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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! 

I’ve participated in a lot of discussions regarding the use of humiliation and degradation within power  dynamics. Many consider the fact that many submissives enjoy being humiliated or degraded as being a paradox. I don’t see it as a paradox, I see it as a very rational, and expected, reaction. Here’s why: 

I tend to think most people who enjoy humiliation, don’t enjoy humiliation itself, but LOVE being  humiliated. In other words, it’s the fact that someone else is deliberately humiliating them that gets the chemicals flowing. 

I’ve talked about it before – I believe that there is a process of rationalization whenever we willingly and  voluntarily accept something from a partner that isn’t what we normally would desire. We must justify,  to ourselves, why would allow this to happen to us. This is true when a sub is punished, or “tortured”  (non-abusive), or required to do chores, follow protocols, or any number of other things. The fact that  power dynamics are consensual, leaves out abusive / truly-forced reasons – leaving only the rationale  that the dominant has the authority to inflict this upon the submissive – and, upon accepting that  authority, leaving the submissive feeling “helpless” to resist. 

So, voluntarily accepting something from a dominant that we normally would not accept, triggers a  feeling of being under the dominant’s control and authority. That’s something subs want. That’s  something that makes their submission feel more real. Subs don’t have to enjoy the activity – but they  absolutely enjoy feeling the dominant’s authority. 

This is behind my assertion that punishments always reward submissives…even if the punishment is  something that they hate…and that people who think that you need to make the punishment severe  enough for the sub to change their behavior to avoid it, are fooling themselves. The more the  submissive dislikes the activity they feel compelled to allow, the more “real” the authority feels and the  more titillating the experience. See my previous article entitled, “Punishment Is Always a Reward” in  Kinkweekly, for a more in-depth discussion regarding punishments. 

Humiliation is something most of us would try to avoid. It’s not a pleasant experience. But if a sub allows  a dominant to humiliate them, they stimulate the feeling of submissiveness and powerlessness under  the authority of the dominant. It promotes the dominant to a more powerful position in their mind,  which is arousing and enjoyable. 

There is a Yin to that Yang: Dominants are afforded the opposite end of that rationalization: They know  that the submissive would normally avoid humiliating situations. However, they are not only allowing  themselves to be humiliated, they’re do voluntarily within the context of their power dynamic. The  rationalization that the dominant must have the authority to levy the punishment, supports the  dominant’s feeling of control and power. Humiliation becomes a playful experience. How much can a  dominant push a submissive? How far does that rationalized-authority extend? 

In this light, it’s obvious why humiliation is desirable – and what the submissive and dominant may gain  from it. It’s not a paradox at all. It makes complete sense!

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

Humiliation and Degradation

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You have heard or seen humiliation and or degradation before in sexual scenes. The Dominatrix says to  her sub “You are a dirty little sissy slut, and Mistress is going to fuck your useless ass”, or you have seen  it in porn, for example, the submissive tied up kneeling on the bathroom floor with her mouth open and the word “toilet” scrawled on her body and face as a variety of men stand around urinating on her and in her mouth.  

What is it about humiliation and degradation that plays so powerfully as a fetish in kink?  

There is an arousal response that occurs when someone is humiliated. The arousal response is the  constellation of physiological changes—e.g., increased muscle tension, tachycardia and secretion of  catecholamines—which help prepare the body for expenditure of a large amount of energy; also known  as. the “fight-or-flight response”. For some people, that response occurs to them as sexually arousing.  

The fight or flight response can occur as sexual arousal because the sexual arousal response is quite  similar in some ways to the fight or flight response. The sexual arousal response is the sequence of  physical and emotional changes that occur as a person becomes sexually aroused. It occurs in 3 phases.  It’s during the first 2 phases of the sexual arousal response, desire (or libido) and arousal (excitement)  that the person who finds humiliation and degradation arousing experiences the fight or flight response as arousing.  

I have had submissives who are aroused by fear. The fear of being punished, the fear of being used hard  and so on. Well in the case of these submissive women, their fear is compressed with their feelings of  sexual arousal and so they seek situations where they can be humiliated or degraded as part of their  sexual self-expression.  

During the first phase of sexual arousal, which can last from a few minutes to several hours, (like in a  play scene), a person may experience any of the following:  

– Muscle tension increase  

– Heart rate quickening  

– More rapid breathing  

– Flushing of the skin  

– Nipple erection and hardening  

– Genital blood flow increases resulting in erection of the penis and swelling of the labia and  clitoris  

– Vaginal lubrication begins and vaginal walls swell  

– The breasts become fuller  

– The testes swell and the scrotum tightens, and he begins secreting lubricating liquid  

This list represents all the physical changes that could occur during this phase, but its quite conceivable  that a person may experience one or more of these symptoms directly as a result of being humiliated or  degraded which illustrates how humiliation and degradation can be interpreted as sexually arousing.  During the second phase of sexual arousal, those changes listed are intensified with breathing, heart  rate and blood pressure also increasing. It’s easy to imagine how the fight or flight response can be  experienced as sexual arousal because the physiological changes that occur in either one are so similar to each other. 

There are whole kink constructs developed around humiliation and degradation. Take the example of  the husband with a tiny penis who is cuckhold by his wife who dates men with much large dicks and who  constantly humiliates him by saying things like “you could never satisfy me with that tiny dick” or “put  that in a cage, its not needed any more, a real man will fuck me” and so on. I recently met such a small  penis kinkster who is 8 months in chastity and who is being sissified by his Mistress who humiliates him  to the point that he is required to dress in women’s lingerie and service her and the large-dicked men,  also known as Bulls, she brings home. To please her, he fluffs the Bull and cleans her pussy or ass after  he fucks her, and then he cleans the Bull’s dick. He does not identify as gay or bi. His entire world of  sexual arousal is based on humiliation and degradation, and for sure that is just one example of a  hundred possible scenarios. On the other hand, in a typical heterosexual relationship, the male partner  may experience arousal when his partner says things to him like “I’m going to fuck your sissy ass” while  she fingers his ass and massages his prostate, with that level of humiliation being more than enough to  sexually arouse him to his satisfaction. Similarly, my slut likes me to call her “a dirty girl”, and “a filthy  whore” because she enjoys ass to mouth, which I also love. I will also add that as a sexual sadist, I get a  certain rise out of doing things that are humiliating or degrading to my slut. From putting her in a cage  with ginger in her ass to pissing down her throat after I have caned her ass, these acts cause a sexually  arousing physiological response in me as well as in her such that we both thrive sexually.  

Consider that something occurs as humiliating only if the person being targeted with the humiliating  task or phrase experience the phrase or task as humiliating. At the same time, I humiliate my slut by  calling her a “filthy whore”, which arouses her, and so even though its clearly degrading to call her –  someone I love – a” filthy whore’, in context it serves to arouse her.  

The argument then, is that for humiliation and degradation to make sense in a sexual scene, the target  of that humiliation and degradation needs to be sexually aroused by the humiliation. If I were to call my  slut “a filthy whore” and it has the impact of making her feel bad, then that would take her out of a  sexual context and disrupt the scene.  

When I piss in my slut’s ass, it is a very dominant act that is degrading to her on one level, but on  another level, she is deeply aroused by my doing so, to the point that she masturbates vigorously while I do so.  

When I put her in pussy chastity and made her an ass whore for a month, was that humiliating? Well, it  is degrading to be told you are in chastity for a month for sure, but she loves anal sex and while she got  sexually frustrated at her pussy not being used, she loved getting related to her ass as a sex organ at the same time.  

Humiliation and degradation are kinks. They are a fetish, but unlike say, flogging, which is very much  physical, they are kinks that expand the dynamic. They do so as either direct or indirect stimuli. They are  not always as direct as impact play for example. Whether its direct like chastity, or indirect like a phrase,  incorporating humiliation and degradation into your dynamic is really about getting into your partner’s  head.  

All sexual encounters are ultimately psychological encounters in the end. Sure, sex itself is physical, but  it is the degree of arousal and the intensity of the experience that fetishes and kinks play on that make  the experience more psychological than physical, and more intense physically. 

We are very kinky people. We live in a 24/7 TPE. Consider that. It is an always on, total power exchange.  She has gifted me her power when it comes to our sexual dynamic and our relationship. This means that  when I tell her to get ready, she stops what she is doing, she goes off to the bathroom and she prepares  herself to be a 3-hole whore. She prepares herself like she is going out on a date, she makes up her face,  she voids her bowel and bladder, she crawls to the living room and she kneels on the floor to wait for me to use her. She understands that whatever I choose to do, she is prepared for. I have her complete  consent. This is based in trust. She knows me as a sensual sadist and a generous lover. She knows that I  love her and that I do not break my toys. She also knows that there is nothing wrong and so it is of no  concern to me or her if she reds out. With that knowledge she will literally do whatever I ask her to do in  order to please me, because she belongs to me and she is my service slut. The degrading things I do to  her, from a daily maintenance spanking to pissing in her ass or down her throat are just part of her  experience of deep arousal and they heat up our already hot scenes so that when we play, we  experience every sexual encounter with each other as a very intense encounter which is so very steamy  that we are left quite literally exhausted after we play.  

Humiliation and degradation are absorbed into our dynamic and they keep our sexual self-expression  hotter and more exciting than ever. And the key thing is that she is aroused by being used when I use  her in a degrading way or when I say the humiliating things I say to her, she is deeply aroused. For  example, imagine how she must be feeling to have the overwhelming urge to masturbate and slap her  clit hard while I am pissing in her ass at the end of a scene. She does this volitionally and organically and  not because I gave her an instruction to do so. It is her self-expression as she explores her experience of  intense arousal during a degrading act.  

I could write this article about any aspect of our TPE. Remember, it always boils down to consent. Every  kink you engage in as a Dom with an s-type MUST start with consent.  

With consent, anything goes. Even humiliation and degradation.  

SafferMaster and Lady Petra offer Kink Relationship Coaching with online, group, and  personal coaching options.  

You can access the coaching services offered by Lady Petra Playground by reaching  out for an initial conversation- LadyPetraPlaground@gmail.com  

The Patreon is also a way to sign up: https://www.patreon.com/LadyPetrasPlayground  Lady Petra and SafferMaster also produce the Kinky cocktail Hour podcast available on  all podcast platforms

Erotica: The Laughter Of Kink

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I asked what you wanted, as I have many times before.  Usually, you will tell me you are unsure, and decide in the moment what will please you.  This time you had an answer.

“I want to hear you laugh.”

I was taken aback.  Have I been so depressed that you are unable to see something so simple?  Has it become so rare you feel the need to request it?  I am disheartened to think I have stopped giving you such a small thing.

I shake my head of my thoughts and look at you. “You want me to laugh?”

“Yes.  It makes me happy to hear you laugh.”

It has been a long time since I was at a loss for words.  I do not know where to even begin to make this happen.  If it were so easy, I probably would have done so already.  It will be a challenge Sir.  But I am sure I can accommodate your request.  

I am nervous Sir.  I have been so unsure of what you have planned.  I am so afraid of disappointing you.  This is the first time you have told me what you plan to do.  I always thought that doing so would take away the anticipation.  It did not.  

You have decided on tickle torture.

I am convinced of two things.  I am probably going to piss myself.  And I am probably going to die.  Ok, that is a little dramatic, even for me.  But I cannot help it.

I am standing before you, completely exposed.  I am trying to be patient.  Methodically, you are wrapping rope around me.  My arms are folded behind me, each hand clasping an opposite forearm.  My eyes are closed, and I am trying to relax my breathing.

Ropes have never been a limit.  We just do not use them.  I have discovered that my patience is minimal when it comes to this kind of prep work.

Your hands are soft as you move the rope around me.  Ever so slowly, it tightens into place.  Finally, I hear you chuckle.  I am curious at what has amused you.  My eyes pop open just in time to catch the camera flash.  

My head dropped down to hide my blush.  No matter how depraved we get, I never cease to feel so shy when your attention is focused on me.

“Head up sweetie.”

I complied.

Your hands are tugging at different spots.  I am sure you are making sure that nothing will damage me.

“How does that feel?”

“Good, Master.  Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.  We are just getting started.”

There is that feeling again.  The nervous anticipation.  

Your fingers are running through my hair.  It is so long now.  You seem to have such a fascination with it.  I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I kneel.  As I settle, I feel a brush run through my hair.  I stay silent, enjoying the feeling.  You have never done this before.

I try to stamp down the little voice inside my head that tells me that you are dissatisfied with me for leaving my hair down.  I normally pull it back, but I thought you might enjoy the change.  Was I wrong, Sir?  Should I not have deviated from my normal routine?

I try not to let my inner thoughts ruin what you are doing.  I have to remember to breathe.  It does not matter the why.  It only matters what pleases you.

After several long moments, I feel you pull my hair back and wrap it into a ponytail.  Then I felt the telltale pull of braiding.  I have not had someone braid my hair in years.  It is odd how much I am enjoying this.

Of course, I am not blind to the fact that the nicer you are now, the rougher you will be later.

I am sure I make quite the picture, Sir.  The white ropes are stark as they crisscross over my skin.  My shoulder muscles are taunt from trying to free my hands.  My hair hangs in a braid down my back. And the beautiful cherry on top, is my jaw wrenched open by a red ball gag.  I can feel the amount of drool sliding down the sides of my mouth.

Do I glisten Sir? Are you enjoying the mess you have turned me into before we have even started?

You do not have to answer Sir.  I can see the glint in your eye. You are enjoying this.

At least you were kind enough to use the gag with holes through it. Maybe I will still be breathing at the end of this.

The first shove took me off guard.  I have been standing here, just waiting for instructions, and you have not said a word.  You just stared at me.  Do you know how unnerving that is or how much it makes me want to squirm?

But I know better.  I waited, as still as possible, for your instruction.

Suddenly, I felt your hand in the middle of my back and I was forcefully shoved.  My body hits the bed and it takes the wind out of me for a second.  I try to get my knees under me to adjust myself, but you are not letting up.

The game has begun.

I feel several rough smacks from your hand every time I try to shift up.  There is no warm-up today.  Finally, taking far longer than it should have for me to understand, I stop trying to get my knees under me.  All I am doing is giving you a target.

I start rotating my body so that I can flip onto my side.  You start tickling my feet.  I cannot help but laugh.  It sounds awfully breathy through the gag.  I hate being tickled.  Did I mention that Sir?  I despise it.  But above all, I despise anyone tickling my feet.  They are so sensitive that it often hurts.

My brain is fighting over the rules.  I am not supposed to move when you tickle me.  Because you enjoy watching me struggle.  Yet, my reflex is to kick at you.

I curl my knees up, trying to keep my feet still but move from your reach.  It is a fruitless endeavor.  You simply move closer.  My body is twisting, I have lost the battle to stay still.  I am laughing.  I turn to look at you.  Your face is filled with Sadistic glee.

In that second, I know exactly why I agreed to this.

I cannot take it anymore. My legs are kicking at you.  This just seems to amuse you more.  I roll onto my back so I can use my feet to push me up the bed, trying to escape.  You expected the move.  Your hands wrap around my ankles and tug.  My ass is at the edge of the bed.  You move over me and straddle my hips.  As you meet my eyes, your fingers move to my sides and start tickling me relentlessly.

I toss my head side to side.  Your thighs tighten on my hips.  I am pinned.  I will be at your mercy until you decide otherwise.

It hurts but I cannot stop laughing.  My brow is matted with sweat.  This is one hell of a workout.

I feel one of your hands move up my stomach and grab roughly at my boob.  Your fingers pinch my nipples tightly and you tug upward.  You are just holding it.  Every time I try to twist from the tickling.  You gave me a slight reprieve from the tickling but now both my nipples are under your sadistic hands.  

Your thumb and pointer fingers hold tight to my nipples.  You seem to enjoy pinching right where my piercings lay.  It hurts so much more, especially when you roll them until your nails are dig into the tender flesh.

You smirk down at me when I hiss in pain.  Without a word, you lean down and take my nipple between your teeth and tug harshly.  I should probably specify that the strangled noise you heard was, in fact, a gasp.  A gasp, I repeated, as you spent a few minutes alternating between each of my nipples.  

They are so tender Sir.  They will be for days.  But you know that.  You know my work clothes will press upon the tortured flesh and I will be distracted by the memories it conjures.

You let go suddenly and lean back.  Your body weight presses down on my thighs and my stomach heaves in exhaustion.  You are looking down at me.  Your eyes boring into mine.  My face is flush. I can feel it.  My jaw aches as I pant through the gag.  

I’ve never seen you so energetic during play.  You have a glow about you.  It makes me happy.

I can feel myself slipping Sir.  I can see the static starting to form around you.  The blood is rushing loudly through my ears, making it difficult to hear.  I am quickly sinking into subspace, Sir.  

I am positive you see it.

Your hand wraps in the front harness of ropes and pulls my upper body close to you.  My eyes feel blown open as I try to meet your eyes.  It is so difficult to make eye contact Sir.  I am losing focus.

You let go and I drop back to the bed.  My head bounces.  I am saddened by the loss of pressure.  

Suddenly, your hand is wrapped back in the ropes as you spin my body around.  I will never understand how you can move me as though I am weightless.  

My feet are on the wall and my legs are bent.  My head rests in the middle of the bed and I am staring up at the ceiling.  I laugh when you wrap my braid around your hands.  I understand now.

I needed a handle.  

I push against the wall, trying to alleviate the tugging on my head as I am pulled to the edge of the bed.  As my head comes to rest, hanging off the bed, I see you crouch down.  I feel you undoing the buckle of the gag.  Your fingers slide around my cheeks, towards my lips, and you gently pry the gag from between my teeth.  

The first thing I did was swallow.  I am sticky with sweat and saliva, but I unable to move to wipe it away.  As you stand, I move to lift my head, but you prevent it by stepping forward.  Your jeans press against my face.

I can smell your arousal Sir.  It excites me.

Like the good girl I am, I open wide and stick out my tongue.

Have I been good enough to get a reward Sir?  Will I get to taste you?

You stand there for a few minutes.  I feel restless. I rub my face against your jeans.  Please, Sir.  Please may I please you?

I keep still and quiet.  You do not like to feel rushed.  I am here for your pleasure, not the other way around.

Then I hear it.

Your zipper slides down and the button is tugged from its home.  Teasingly, you take your time pulling out your cock.  I have no choice but to wait patiently.  I am not in a position to initiate anything and you know it.

You put the tip to my lips.  I stick my tongue out and work my piercing around the head.  I push the tip of my tongue slightly against your slit, moving it up and down for a few strokes before I return to circling the head.  

I must have teased you a little too much.

Without warning, your length is down my throat, passed my gag reflex.  My throat is spasming around you as I gag.  I am struggling to breath.  My nose is buried in your balls and your scent is all around me, but I cannot draw breath.  

I start struggling.  My feet flatten on the bed and I lift my hips.  My lower half is twisting, trying to tell you I need to breathe.

You wait a few seconds more.

Then you pull back.  I draw breath just before you thrust in again.  Over and over, I struggle to breathe as you alternate your rhythm.  Sometimes you fuck my mouth without mercy.  Then you will bury yourself deep and wait until my body twists and turns in panic before pulling back.  

It starts to get fuzzy around here Sir.  I remember your hand wrapping around my throat as you push your length slowly back in.  You do not go far enough to trigger my gag reflex.  My chest is heaving, drawing small, short pockets of air around your cock.  

I feel as though I am suffocating but you always leave me enough room to draw breath.

When your hand leaves my neck, I feel you pull yourself from my mouth.  My eyes are struggling to stay open.  

As they slide closed, my body exhausted, I feel you finish on my face.  I can feel it across my forehead and my eyes.  There is even a bit sliding down my cheek.

I feel relaxed now Sir.  My breathing is slowing, and everything is quiet.

I feel your finger tap twice on my lips.  I open obediently.  You wipe the last of your cum across my tongue.

I must have missed you speaking.  It is rare you resort to hand signals.

It is so quiet.  

Where are you, Sir? 

My body is freezing now.  All the hairs are standing on end and I am shivering.

Your hands are like fire as they caress my skin.

I both love and hate this.  I want to curl into you Sir.  Yet, I have to wait as you remove the ropes.  I know you are being cautious, so I do not get burned, but I just want you to hold me.

Once free, my body just drops.  I do not even have the strength to even lift my head.

I jump slightly when I feel a warm cloth on my face.  You are cleaning me up.  

It saddens me to have my face cleaned but I appreciate you taking care of me, Sir.

Even with my eyes closed, I know you are talking to me.  I cannot hear you.  But that is normal.  

I hope my laughter has pleased you, Sir.

As soon as my senses dull, and I come back to you, I will be sure to thank you properly.

With three kisses to each boot and my forehead to the floor.

Beanpole’s Humiliation

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Beanpole was over six foot and the palest man I had ever seen. There was something very typical about Beanpole. He had that awkward, geeky look of a full-grown man that had never quite reached the level of cool that he saw himself as in his own mind. He wore heavy framed glasses that were a bit too scratched. He had probably shaved that morning but made little effort to appear polished or desirable to his awaited Doms. Even his body here seemed too uninterested in life to bother to curl around it, laid flat and flaccid like his penis. He really was the beige list most uninteresting person I had never wanted to meet. I knew that someone in the room had to have recommended and okayed his presence for him to be there. Our tight little community protected its secrets and treasured its privacy too much to bring someone in with a question mark above their head. As the auctioneer got Beanpole to the auction block, I had to bite my lip to not laugh out loud. The auctioneer had covered every inch, including his hair in golden glitter. My immediate thought went to the amount of glitter that he would have to explain away when he went home that night. 

He reminded me of a bad high school version of the guy in the Rocky Horror picture show. As he stood on the box, his gangly arms laid in front of his stomach, and his fingers extended in an attempt to cover himself. I seriously questioned what this was going to play out like. Somewhere in the background, music had begun to play again, but it was much less intrusive this time. And I wondered what was in store for our sad, awkward Oscar. 

I had to call him Oscar. Here was a gold statue of a man going to be an object or prize to some of our best Doms. I had played with several of these men but did not know who the cloaked one was. I couldn’t help but wonder how this one was going to play out. As with the previous slaves, the bidding began with a bit of a sales pitch. 

“This sparkling specimen of a man comes with a cock that swells to the most pleasurable size you can possibly imagine. He comes with a request for safe words but no other limits. He asked nothing except to be the pleasure doll of someone here this evening.” With the mention of the word doll, I could see Oscar’s penis. The auctioneer used his cane to tap Oscar’s hands away and display the semi-erect cock, which was now nearly double in size but not completely erect. The auctioneer wanted everybody aware of what was on offer. He grabbed the last slave for the evening, a female and forced her in front of Oscar. Without a word, she understood what she was to do.  Her presence Made it very obvious that he would be brought to full attention before the auction began. The auctioneer held the female’s hair back so that everyone got a clear view of the growing member and her exemplary sucking, licking and teasing technique. I could feel my own *** begin to swell as I watched this luscious display of sensual engagement. The Doms slowly gathered around, inspecting the female’s technique and the response that Oscar could not control. Within a few short minutes, the flaccid penis was now a thick 9 inch, deep Crimson pulsating cock. 

“That’s enough now- starts the bidding!” called one of the Doms. Obviously, the Doms had done a little bit of talking about who wanted what because almost immediately, KennyD tapped the cloaked D and came back and sat next to me. The other two stayed put, circling and touching our Golden statue. The girl was permitted to move from Oscar and assume her position back against the wall. Two of the Doms fondled his balls, tweaked his nipples, and his bottom to see what sort of reaction they would get. Ask her winced at the ball squeeze made no noise after the nipple tweak or attention to his backside.  The two slowly circled and played with the offering without making eye contact or considering the third Dom. 

“If you are entirely done with your inspection, I would like to start the bidding at $200. As you can see, this glittering specimen will reward you with a willing mouth and exemplary member. His references are all too delighted to say never touch a book by its cover. 

The first D obsessed with Oscar’s bottom gave the nod to accept the 200. The other used a leather tongue to tap the erect **** and watch for a reaction. When Oscar barely grimaced pickle Dee said, “I figure he might be worth 3.”

The two men I’d each other and volleyed the bid back and forth in $25 increments until the price was $500. Both hesitated at 500 when the cloaked D simply said 750 final offer! To my surprise, it was a female voice under the cloak that still had not revealed itself. 

The auctioneer said nothing but made direct eye contact with the other two bidders. They both smiled, bowed their heads and took a step back from the bidding circle. “Sold for $750 1 Golden statue requiring only safe words.“ The cloaked D clipped a lead onto her gold-coloured slave and promptly led him upstairs. As they went upstairs, the other 3Doms gathered in the basement’s far end and engaged in conversation. The slaves that had been auctioned were near the sofa recovered and cared for after their adventures. Still on display, kneeling with their hand on their knees and their collars attached to the wall by a relatively heavy-looking chain. Both had their eyes down and almost looked like they were sleeping.

When Oscar and his master returned, she was wearing a white tank top leather vest and a pair of loose-fitting jeans. She had a crop and a tongue clipped to one of her belt loops. Oscar had been wholly transformed into the prettiest ugly Sissy I had ever seen.  As they decent the stairs, CloakD yanked to force a stumble by the slave. He teetered in a pair of red patent peek-a-boo heels. Black fishnet stockings, a pink corset,  a pair of ill-fitted pink lace panties that left his cock protruding out the side and barely contained his balls. A sheer wrap dress didn’t really provide the illusion of a complete outfit. The entire look made me uncomfortable, and my gut twisted as I watched him struggle to walk in the heels down the stairs. A blonde curly wig, deep red lips stopped me cold.  The whole look had been exaggerated and make-up that was heavy and hurriedly applied. In all honesty, the make-up looked like melted crayons.  I didn’t even need to look around the room to gauge others’ reactions. Giant belly laughs erupted from the Dom group as Oscar came into full view in all of his feminine glory. Cloak D took two steps up. She was now as tall as the shimmering Beanpole.  Mistress tossed some sort of MP3 at the auctioneer and asked him to play the third track on the first list. 

“This evening, our darling Sissy slut is going to entertain you with a little bit of a dance before we begin the festivities. Feel free to encourage her to share her feminine wiles and seduce all those worthy of her sad existence. This week’s sad excuse over human is so useless and unworthy that he must pretend to be a woman to even be worthy of being in my presence.” As she spoke, she had removed the crop from her belt and wiggled it under the dress so that she could smack his semi-erect member until he attempted to pull away. 

As she used the crop, the conversation and laughter continued at the far edge of the basement. Cloak D asked Sissy if he liked the attention she was giving his pathetic cock. He nodded and grumbled some sort of affirmation. When he mumbled, she quickly drew a hand full force across his face and admonished him for his discourteous response. He immediately spoke up, apologized and thanked her for the correction. 

As our Sissy was led to where the auction block stood, he was told to get on his knees and move the box with his face. Sissy awkwardly used his forehead and chin to maneuver the box up and over to the edge of the room. The entire time, Cloak D taunted and remarked about his lack of grace. She smacked and  tapped his balls from between his legs, ensuring he was thoroughly mortified by the exposure and the lack of elegance. After moving the box, he returned to the room’s centre, staying on all fours with his head bowed. Using a cane that had been leaning next to the unauctioned slave, Cloak D used a variety of smacks and taps to bring Sissy Oscar to his full height. Wobbling and trying to stand elegantly, the Sissy was crimson with embarrassment and completely erect. 

His thumping engorged member brought the humiliation to a new level as Cloak D unleashed a string of insults. She explained how he was the weaker sex,  men’s inability to create and sustain life like a woman.  Pathetically using fear and brute strength to keep women down. Moreover, men could serve no real purpose beyond being sperm donors. She finished with a tirade about how men could do nothing in life without their mothers, lovers, and wives showing them the way. She then directed the Sissy to dance and show her worthiness to be in the presence of others.  She was to pay homage to women and demonstrate her feminine side to deem herself acceptable as a vessel for discipline time and attention from Cloak D. 

With a flick of the head, the auctioneer started the music. Cloak D undid the leash and pointed to where Sissy was to dance. Sissy began the humiliating process of demonstrating his feminine Wilds with knees bent and arms awkwardly moving in snake-like circles. Tears filled his eyes as a Boo was heard from the shadows. Cloak D admonished her Sissy for a poor showing. Cloak D stepped forward and immediately brought the Sissy to its knees in front of her. The DS tone was calm and forceful. She offered this Sissy one final chance to demonstrate worthiness by beginning a striptease. Sissy Oscar thanked the D for the opportunity and asked permission to kiss her feet. Permission was granted as we all watched the humiliation of this man. He was genuinely grateful for the chance to make things right for his master. The song had ended by this time as she asked the auctioneer to start it again. This time Mistress stepped back and said nothing until the music began when she acknowledged his existence by saying, don’t disappoint me. 

This time Sissy Oscar closed his eyes, rolled his shoulders, sang along to the lyrics and slowly removed his dress. With the final move laying the dress at the feet of his D. As the song ended, he continued to slowly gyrate and caress his own body, bending forward slowly, removing the panties and exposing his ass to the room. Where for the first time, we could see a large blue gem had been placed. He stepped out of the panties, opened his legs and brought his ass up and down from the floor. Proud and humbled by the opportunity to represent his master when he finished, he knelt on the floor with his hands in front of him, waiting for commands.  His floor work would have made any stripper proud. His ass was indeed his money makers. He bounced and shook his ass to the music, momentarily forgetting who and what he was. By the time the song’s intense bass had died down and bled into the next one, Beanpole had transformed into Oscar, the Sissy. He didn’t look for the approval of his moves. His erect penis had moved to the music as he sensually touched himself, knowing he was on complete display for everyone to see.

When the second song stopped, Cloak D walked forward, Oscar dropped to his knees and knelt forward.   Master stepped on his fingers and simply stated that wasn’t so bad. Go wait against the wall with the others. There would be no sexual satisfaction for Golden Oscar, just further humiliation as the night went on. 

Presentation (From Have Your Cake)

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“I feel like this is my wedding day and you’re about to walk me down the aisle.”

“Good. That’s a very good perspective. I don’t want you to go in completely cold, so come here over my lap and I’ll give you a warm up spanking.”

Having not been touched since her day with Rikter, she was ready for some attention. All the bruises from that night and day had faded and her skin was pristine pale again.

The chair he was in was deep seated and armless. His feet flat on the floor made for a wide plane of thigh for her to bend over.

“Hands at your back.”

She was a bit awkward at first, with nothing to hold onto or brace against. His hand gripping around her wrists made her heart jump. Tight grip to hold her in place while his other hand pulled up her nightgown. Large hand that cupped and gripped her buttocks a moment before beginning the spanks. He did not start with an easy warm up, but went right to hard spanks that had her yelping at once.

“You have a fantastic ass,” he said during a rubbing pause. “You can expect numerous spankings every time you’re in the Manor.”

“Oh, goodie,” she giggled, hearing the wall clock ring the hour.

“They’ll like your sass too so long as you don’t go too far.”

Any response was cut off by a round of harder spanks. Eyes closed tight, colors bursting sparkles behind her lids, and she heard the clock chime the next quarter of the hour.

Another pause, her ass burning deep and half numb. He put her on her knees between his thighs, let her rest her head on his thigh a moment.

“I cannot bid on you,” he said. “I will be presenting you. I will play with you while they watch, while they bid to have you. I will give you intense pains. I will make you scream and cum. You wanted to be a sex slave with no ability to consent. You have gotten what you want. Don’t squander it.”

“When can you have me, Master?” she asked, smiling up at him.

“Every day after today. Or as soon as you are recovered from whatever the winner will do to you tonight. Could be a few days.”

“We’ll see,” she flirted at him. “I can take a lot.”

“Yes, you can. But you’ve never been whipped and beaten like you will be here, Pax. There’s no Dungeon Monitor to tell members they cannot do something. Only the House Master or I can stop a member. Most of the time we don’t care who dies.”

“Most of the time. Can I hope I am different?”

“You are different,” he said. “And we have recognized it. I will do the one thing that will speak loudest for you.”

He reached into his pants pocket for a small green clip ring embossed with the number 1.

“Hold this.”

In her fingertips, looking at it while he went to his desk and back. He stood in front of her, telling her to stand tall on her knees. Cool metal slid around her neck and she lifted her hair for him. Then her face was pressed into his crotch while he closed the metal ring. She felt metal on metal and he exerted pressure. She heard and felt the pop. His hand grasped her by the bangs and pulled her face up to look at him.

“You are the property of the Culpation League. You will please us or you will die for our entertainment. Which is your choice?”

“I will please you, Master,” she said without hesitation, the weight of the ring curving with her collarbones an odd sort of comfort, like it was always supposed to have been there.

“Suck me off before I have to give you to someone else for the night.”

A good, deep suck until he told her to get her tits out and hold them up. Looking down on her smiling face, tits held up in both hands for him, he jacked himself onto her nipples. 

“Paper towels are there.”

In a box like facial tissues. She plucked out one and wiped her breasts off.

“There. I may have to let someone else have you first, but you go to him with my cum on your breath and skin.”

She grinned up at him and held up the green and gold circle. “Do you want this?”

She’d been holding it the entire time. He took it from her fingers and snapped it over the ring of her collar. Others would put theirs to left and right, keeping his in the center.

“My personal request that you be kept a long time,” he said.

“Thank you, Master,” she smiled, having never felt so secure in herself and a relationship.

She was no one now. A prisoner condemned to die and a slave of the lowest order, on the cusp of perfect fulfillment. He gave her one more round of spanks, this time using a small, tapered dildo to start her anus relaxing for what was to happen. That accomplished, he called the House Master in again.

“She’s ready for the isolation room.”

“Her designation, Mr. President?”

“For now she is cunt.”

“This way, cunt.”

She couldn’t complain. Cunt was nicer to her ears than prisoner.

Excerpt is from Have Your Cake, story 1 in the Culpation League series.

———-

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

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

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

The Slutatic Adventures Of Eve

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It’s essential to have goals. My slut goals vary. For the past six months, geography has been fun. At first, it was a match with places I had been, which extended into areas I wanted to go or know about. Being curious is a neat way to learn and make my way through the male population of my corner of the world. Not every message gets a response, but the profile was packed with details and interests that matched the reality of my luscious curves and sultry desire. Loving good sex is one thing, but knowing someone is into what you have to offer can be motivating.

“Love your pictures” was his opening foray. Hardly something to swoon over, but I don’t fuck for poetry, so I figured what the hell. The banter was intriguing. He was young and anxious to learn about my twisted little world of domination and submission. A weird little world of my knowledge and experience for him and a youthful cock and passion for my orgasm for me was enough to make him a regular. His full lips and generous mouth, athletic body, and desire for a heightened sexual experience solidified our mutual passion. 

“We can meet at my place. I have roommates, but they won’t be an issue. I want you so bad.” That was the message the morning after our first meet. “I would love to see you in heels and stocking.” Quickly followed. 

I was happy to oblige the following Tuesday. I slipped into a barely decent little black dress, low cut in the back and skimming the edge of my thigh, black sheer stay-ups, and black suede heels with shiny metal spike heels. The porch light was a bare light bulb. The starkness was notable was in such stark contrast to the Aladdin’s cave of treasure and pleasure I hoped to find beyond that bare bulb. 

I paid little attention to the terrain as I climbed the stairs and stepped onto the grass. My hell sunk, and I fell forward onto my hands and knees. I looked up as he stepped out of his door. I righted myself and passed him my tote bag, and I brushed off the dead leaf and pulled my dress back in place. In some weird way, it was the perfect ice breaker. He whisked me to his room and fussed my wet, bruised knee. The niceties of a first meet were swamped by the adrenaline pumping through my system. He was talking, and I was watching his mouth, those full pillow lips I longed to suck and nibble. I nibbled my own lower lip as I waited for him to stop talking. My clit twitched, and his hands smoothed and caressed my legs and thighs. His fingers found the edge of the stay-ups, and my breath hitched in my throat, a small moan of pleasure escaped. I checked myself. We made eye contact, I fought the urge to speak, he dropped to his knees in front of me. He brought my face to his and kissed me. “This isn’t very sadistic” my thought was halted by the wakening of my sex, my clit twitched, and I was instantly wet.

His mouth kissed and suckled my inner thigh. His teeth grazed over the stocking, and his hand found my ankles and put them behind his neck. I lay back on the bed, still dressed and enjoying the hunger of his mouth on my thighs. My panties are soaked. The burgundy satin would be dark with my wetness. I stretched and writhed as he pulled the panties to the side and opened me with his strong ample tongue. He was out of my reach, and not a word had passed between us. I fought my desire to create social interaction. Instead, I emptied my mind and stayed in my body. He had found the spot, the holy grail of the squirt spot. He surprised himself and was delighted with himself. 

As I moaned in pleasure, I interjected, “you might want to grab a towel,” ever the practical slut. I broke the spell. He stood in front of me; I sat up facing his cock. It’s stretched against his body-hugging boxers. I trace his cock’s outline with my long, manicured nails. I continue to fondle and careless until his hand instinctually lands on my head. I look into his eyes with my fingers stroking the outside of his boxers. I finally speak. 

“ask for what you want.” My voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s firm. His eyes bulge. My power shift is subtle, and I wait for him. His eyes bulge, and he motions towards his cock, unwilling to say the words. I hold his eyes, occasionally blinking, smiling softly—my hand retreats. 

“Babe,” his tone is pleading and weak. With that. I stand, kiss his mouth, adjust my stockings. And get ready to leave. “Seriously, you’re going to leave me like this?” The pussy is almost whimpering. With that, I picked up my bag. 

“Next time when I tell you to do something, you will do it. Shame really, you have a beautiful cock.” I walked out the door, stayed on my toes, and left.

This week in kink: November 30, 2020

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We at Kink Weekly believe everything should ALWAYS be consensual including the sharing of intimate images.

In Ireland, Justice Minister Helen McEntee seeks to crimininalise the non-consensual sharing of such images often referred to as revenge porn.

She is specifically trying to enact the Harassment, Harmful Communications and Related Offences Bill, which hopefully would help reduce this non-consensual behavior.

Click below to read more from UT news!

Justice Minister Seeks to Ban Non-Consensual Sharing of Intimate Images

During the pandemic, sex workers have had to find new avenues to keep their businesses running.

Because of this, erotica humiliation and financial domination have soared on Tik Tok. These submissive clients are often referred to as “pay pigs.”

Click below to read more about this from I-D!

In need of a new podcast?

Then, check out From Tops To Bottoms that explores feminism, BDSM, sexuality, and so much more!

On this show, the hosts share their personal experiences to give listeners a better understanding of such broad, often misunderstood/misrepresented topics.

Click below to read more from thebeijinger!

Have some kinky news to share? Tell us about any upcoming BDSM events, new products, dungeon openings / closings, kink in mainstream media, and anything else you think kinky folks might be interested to hear about. Send your tips through to kinkweekly@gmail.com, and it might just end up on next week’s “This Week in Kink.”

Video: Consensual Humiliation Play

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Interested in humiliation play?

Want to know more about how to do this kind of play ethically and consensually?

Then, tune into this informative video that will give you all kinds of great humiliation play ideas and advice!

Humiliating a submissive (BDSM, degradation kink) including humiliation ideas! Submissive training

Humiliation in BDSM play

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Humiliation play is like the old saying, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” What is severe humiliation to one submissive might not be a big deal to another. The key is to understand what humiliates your submissive safely and what “can permanently damage his or her psyche or breaks any hard limits.”

Humiliation is a great way of punishing an errant slave.

Surely, it is more of a punishment that the usual “spank me because I am a bad girl” scenario. After all, since most submissives love to be spanked, how can this be considered punishment?  (I know there are those that claim it is the intent of the spanking that determines whether it is pleasurable or painful; this is open to debate. I have recently covered this issue in a kinkweekly.com article.) But, to use it effectively, one must comprehend the dynamics and scope of humiliation and utilize it with care.

For example, I had a submissive whose ultimate humiliation, and fear, was being made to wear a baby pacifier in public. (This is a good one!) Just the thought of that baby toy stuck in her mouth while shopping at Ralphs would turn her into the most obedient submissive you could imagine. Yet, another submissive I knew had absolutely no fear of the pacifier. In fact, she insisted that it would make a cool fashion statement. Once, she even carried one in her pocket and put it in her mouth just to make her fashionista point – in a fancy restaurant!

I have seen a submissive forced to stand in a corner, facing the wall, with a dunce cap on her head at a play party.  (Another good one!)  Yet another submissive I was with stated that this would be her hard limit; that it would bring back horrid memories of similar treatment by her baby sitter. Humiliation, as we said, is in the eye of the beholder.

Humiliation can be every bit as extreme as any type of BDSM Edge Play

Even though humiliation is primarily a mental type of play, it can be every bit as extreme as any type of BDSM edge play. Displaying a submissive with degrading signs draped on him/her is one activity that comes to mind. Writing demeaning slogans on a naked submissive can be extremely mortifying. The Dom/me must know the submissive’s limits and psyche before writing “slut” all over his/her naked sub in front of others. One should never treat humiliation lightly simply because there is no physical pain involved; mental pain can be even more searing. Ideally, humiliation as a training technique should be only used by experienced Dom/mes.

Most submissives react differently to humiliation in a public venue than to humiliation in front of their lifestyle peers – at a play party, for example. Calling your sub a demeaning name at Target might take on a whole different, and far more serious, internal meaning to the sub than using the same words at a BDSM play party. Thus, it is important that you recognize the difference between “vanilla public” and “BDSM public” humiliation and always take this into consideration. With very rare exceptions, one should never degrade your submissive around family, friends or coworkers.

As to humiliation play – as opposed to using it for training — it is difficult to negotiate strict hard limits when it comes to degradation play; it is not as easy to codify as flogging, for example. You should have a safe word – but safe words are much easier to use when an actual pain threshold is passed. In humiliation play, by the time you pass the threshold, you might already have caused some psychic damage; it could be too late for a safe word. In humiliation play, the key word is play. Be careful not to cross any psychic lines.

Thus, you must keep all these factors in mind whether you are using humiliation for punishment, training or just for play!

By BaadMaster
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.