Maria_Why did I love you so from Bondage_AlekZander on Vimeo.
Music by Maria Zaitseva
Lyrics by Natalie Safonova
Sound Producer: Anton Chumachenko
Bondage by Alek Zander
Video by B.I.G. PRODUCTION
kink
The Initiation of Cora: Part 3
For Part 2 click here
For Part 1 click here
Wherever there is enough money there is a woman willing to do nearly anything to get it.
Tonight was Daniela’s first public appearance since losing her final hunt. I can imagine why she’d stayed out of circulation for a while after that gruesome experience.
Herrmann slowed down a bit and we turned into a parking area in front of a well-lit pub. The parking lot was huge. On a Saturday night it was bustling with about a dozen small and large semi-trucks, many motorcycles and ranks of cars.
Herrmann took his time finding a spot while Daniela squirmed miserably in her seat. He finally parked and got out, walking around the vehicle and opening the sliding door to the middle row. Since Daniela sat to the far left we all had to climb out with her. I wasn’t standing next to the car for twenty seconds before someone whistled loudly and a man’s voice shouted something in Slovakian.
Daniela clasped her gown in front of her to cover her naked breasts and looked to Herrmann for help. He motioned with his head for her to follow him and walked toward the pub. The man who had whistled gathered up some of the others standing by their motorcycles. A crowd began to form, cutting off Herrmann and Daniela. It was difficult for Daniela to hold her gown shut in the front but she did her best, too well aware of what could be revealed at the slightest misstep. The urgency of her pent-up need made concentration even harder. Not a great condition to be in when entering a place like this.
I turned to Federico.
“Do you really think this is a good idea?”
He peered after them, just like Franklin and the Consigliere. He waved away my concerns with a casual hand gesture.
“You don’t have to worry about this, Princess.”
My insides frequently boiled with anger when Federico and Franklin were together. They brought out the worst in each other. Often Alexander’s good sense kept them out of serious trouble but I always worried about Federico’s impulsiveness and what consequences it might have during a momentary lapse of Alexander’s attention. I saw Herrmann and Daniela stop and stand in front of the group, but due to the noise from the traffic, I couldn’t make out what was being said. I mean, Herrmann was two meters tall and about as wide, but against these six or seven guys he was really going to have some trouble if things got serious.
Cora nudged me. She was able to hold the gown together at the top to hide her breasts, but if you were to have looked closer, you could have seen her naked pussy.
“Can Herrmann speak Slovakian, or who is in charge now?”
I shrugged my shoulders carefully, clutching at the front of my own gown. Just meters in front of us, two juveniles walked by and stared at us blatantly.
“No idea. Really, no idea.”
The men suddenly burst out laughing. Daniela pulled up the gown in the front. Everyone stared at her as she displayed herself. That seemed to work, as Daniela closed her gown and disappeared into the venue with Herrmann following slightly behind. The crowd, however, seemed to be waiting for her return. Cora and I stood next to the car, clasping our clothing and hoping this small interruption would soon pass. I had a bit of experience with these “open” sessions and knew how fast something like this could get very uncomfortable. Cora was cold and nervous about her approaching initiation. This situation wasn’t helping with that either.
Daniela and Herrmann emerged from the building side-by-side after about ten minutes, the time it usually takes for a woman to use the restroom. Everything seemed to have gone well inside. In front, however, the men with the motorcycles were still waiting. I looked at the Consigliere and then to Federico. Alexander leaned on the open passenger door where he carefully observed the situation. I knew some things about Alexander’s past that were slightly reassuring. He was no stranger to tense encounters.
Federico and Sir Franklin went on discussing trusts and paying little attention to what was happening outside.
My eyes met Federico’s. He detected my irritation at what I felt to be a completely avoidable and possibly perilous interruption of our journey.
“Relax, Princess. Herrmann has things under control. If you annoy us, I will think up something very special for you during the Soiree tonight, understood?”
I knew this threat from Federico was to be taken seriously. He wouldn’t hesitate to make good on it, possibly resulting in a great challenge for me. My sore ass was a cautionary reminder of what that could mean. I don’t know and will never know if I ever really loved Federico, but at that moment I was quite sure I hated him.
At the same time, what he said triggered a surge of fear, anticipation and horniness in me. I had been hot between the thighs all day. Familiar with the soirees, I knew I would be had by many men with plenty of crops, whips, wax, and more to cause me pain or pleasure at their will.
As always, these prospects inspired a delicious fear hard to describe. It was exactly this edgy apprehension that made my cunt drip like a leaking faucet. My dark desires.
Herrmann and Daniela stood in the middle of the group for a few moments. They were all laughing and talking in Slovakian. Again, I was reminded of what a useful man he was to The League Herrmann was. The guys all laughed now, one of them rubbing his crotch. We were not safe yet.
Herrmann stepped behind Daniela, pulled her gown apart, removed it and laid it over his arm. He took her by the wrists and held them behind her head. What remained of the dress now presented her breasts and pussy perfectly. For ten minutes the hands of the lead motorcycle guy were all over her. At one point I heard her scream out shrilly. She told me later that the guy in leathers had rammed three fingers all the way into her cunt.
Fortunately for her, ten minutes was all they got. Herrmann pushed the mob to the side and Daniela, stumbled on uneasy legs across the parking lot towards us. She was shaking hard when she got in the car.
“Let’s go ladies,” Herrmann said. “The show is over.”
Cora and I helped the still-trembling Daniela back into her costume. She looked none the worse for her ordeal but the memory of terror lingered in her eyes.
We drove south from Bratislava in the direction of the Danube. In a small and unremarkable village, Herrmann suddenly turned up a narrow but well paved alleyway. After about a kilometer the asphalt ended at a wrought-iron gate, which stood open.
Spotlights had been affixed on both the yellow-painted stone pillars to light the entryway. Between the two pillars stood six men in black suits. Their heads were all shaved and the smallest of them was the size of a refrigerator. Their purpose in being there wasn’t hard to guess.
Herrmann uttered a code word to the chief security guy, who had a headphone plugged into his ear. Herrmann showed him our six invitations. We were waved through. Yet another security guard showed us to our parking spot. The three of us women teetered along the white gravel, followed by our Mentors, toward the entrance. Torches burned everywhere. Their warm light mixed with the long shadows poured into the courtyard, creating an unearthly golden glow. The house was long and large with a flat roof in the contemporary style. It oozed wealth, typically for the locations of soirees. The wind was bitterly cold under my gown. My feet were like blocks of ice in those sandals, but comfortable compared to yesterday’s harrowing hike through The Castle’s fields.
A final security detachment greeted us at the entrance, checking our invitations one more time. Nothing here would be left to chance except our fates. The double doors opened and we stepped into the warmth of a sprawling hallway. The melody from the 1975 film starring the wonderful Corinne Clery drifted from hidden speakers.
In front of a mirror on the back wall stood a woman of fifty-something in breathtaking O garb and a golden mask. She greeted us with an elegant curtsey. She had large, natural looking breasts with dark areolas and erect nipples, supported by her bodice like ours. From her fully shaved triangle hung silver chains that jingled softly as she moved. The woman introduced herself in English as Nadine and ushered us into a side room while the men were taken into the bar area by another blond woman who seemed to appear out of nowhere, dressed identically to Nadine. I recognized her but not from The League. It was not unusual to run into guests familiar from elsewhere at these events, but bad form to mention it. I was still trying to figure out who she was when three men dressed in livery appeared in the deep, narrow coatroom. Each held a thin fiberglass cane in hand. Nadine spoke softly.
“These men will do the inspection, ladies. Remember the rules of an O. They are taken very seriously here and the punishments are harsh.”
With that, she was gone. I looked down obediently and listened as her chains jingled off into the distance. The men with the fiberglass canes circled us, closely checking out every detail of what we wore, how our faces were made up, our postures and the neatness of our trimmed foliage. We must have passed muster, as we were shown out into the vast, high-ceilinged entry hall.
On this chilly March night, not far from Bratislava, Cora would or would not become an O of The League. Federico and I had only been to a “Nuit d’ O” once before. At such events the elements of the novel and film weren’t merely mimicked. They were literally reenacted. The women at this soiree all wore beautiful dresses like ours – the garments worn at Roissy: expensive materials meticulously fitted, tightly laced bodices and strategically draped-open skirts. Everywhere I looked I saw naked breasts, exposed pussies and bare asses. Most of the women were shaved completely, though some had small, trimmed triangles or “landing strips” as the Consigliere liked to call them. Many of the women wore rings or chains on their nipples and bits. Some had tattoos on their breasts, pubic mounds, or derrieres with the symbol of O, or some design indicating ownership by a certain man. I saw at least four women with brandings on their tailbones or shoulders. I was spared such things primarily because Federico understood the ins and outs of the modeling business and knew that tattoos, piercings, and brandings would have ended my promising and lucrative career.
All of the women wore very high, very beautiful and very expensive shoes. Many also wore silk stockings. I think Cora and I were the only women with naked feet in sandals. This may have had something to do with the time of year, when the cold always reminded us of how easily we could be made to suffer, but more likely our lack of stockings reflected the love for beautiful feminine feet shared by Federico and the Consigliere.
I found this kind of initiation much more elegant and dramatic than the ones held in The Castle, which were less formal and more practical. I really liked the exquisite costumes, the splendid house, the elegant atmosphere, the candles, the music and, of course, the champagne.
The liveried men instructed us sternly in Slavic-accented German. We were to keep our eyes averted in the presence of all men and were only allowed to speak if spoken to. We were to keep our legs apart at all times and forbidden to cross them under any circumstances. Our painted lips were to be slightly parted at all times, whether to receive a tender kiss or a hard cock.
If any of the men present, including all guests and servants of the house, showed even the smallest interest in us, we were to touch our breasts, asses or pussies and encourage further exploration. The degree of our availability was signified by the colors of our collars. The liveried men explained the meaning of each color, though Daniela and I were already familiar with how they were coded.
Green collared O’s were not to be used prior to the midnight ceremony, although they could be touched and examined everywhere. The only green collars were worn by Nadine, the wife of the owner of the house and organizer of the event, and by Cora. A black collar meant only sexual play was allowed: no restraints, no suspension, no whipping. For blue-collared O’s, torture of any kind was permitted but no sexual use. Not surprisingly I saw only two of these. Either the wearers were extreme masochists or their owners had purely sadistic motives.
Red-collared girls like me were assured of a busy night. We were subject to nearly unlimited sexual use – oral without a condom, including swallowing service, (thanks, Federico.) as well as vaginal and anal penetration with protection. I was happy with the last part because this wasn’t always the case in The League.
I knew I could and almost certainly would be tortured in one way or another. I felt a little shaky in the knees at the thought but also a fresh upwelling of heat through my sore cunt. My body thinks with more than one organ at a time it seems.
It was the job of the liveried men to assure that any misunderstandings were taken care of discreetly and that the rules were followed to the letter.
All of the attendees seemed aware that tonight was Cora’s initiation and that she would receive her ring. She was congratulated by many of the other women and assured that everything would be wonderful and that she should enjoy the process of becoming an O. As if whips, clips, wax, and who-knows-what wouldn’t hurt like hell and the men wouldn’t act like complete animals who expected to brutally ram an O in the cunt, ass or mouth this would surely be a delightful occasion for Cora. I looked away so she wouldn’t see my sardonic grin.
My rump was still covered in severe marks from yesterday. The hazelnut switches didn’t just hurt at the moment of impact. The pain lingered long afterward. Imre and his colleague had really hit me hard. Their forty-eight strokes had left my ass cheeks a deep red color, severely welted and even lightly cut in a few places. Looking in one of the grand, guilt-framed mirrors on the walls I saw how my bottom glowed underneath the canopy of my hiked up dress like a baboon butt. Nobody seemed troubled by the evidence of my recent punishment. Such marks were seen as trophies by many of the women. I received plenty of admiring looks and not one bit of sympathy. I doubted they knew or cared what sins I’d committed to win those trophies.
We sat at one of the polished wooden tables spotted around the green marbleized walls – okay I stood most of the time because of my baboon butt – sipped champagne and scooped delicious canapes from passing trays. We socialized with other O’s but lowered our eyes when any of the liveried men came near us. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, a tall, stout man appeared – dressed in a dinner jacket like many of the others but decorated with a red sash appropriate to the opera ball – and asked us to follow him in a straight line. We hurried along behind him in a neat rank as we’d been taught. Following him through the entryway past a bar with a piano, I began to wonder what the owners of this house did all day long. Probably, like most of their class, not a lot. We clacked on over the marble floor in our high heels to a narrow, curved stairway winding down toward an underground level.
It was cooler down there but still not uncomfortably cold, in contrast to the cellar of The Castle, where simply being naked in winter was a punishment in itself. Electric torches with retro-style bulbs flickered everywhere, casting a subdued light to go with the low music. Vangelis was still a favorite of orgy crowds then, which probably dates me in a way I’d wiser avoid. We arrived in a large, vaulted area of old stones and arches, like a catacomb. It must have cost a fortune to construct this medieval retreat beneath a modern mansion. On one wall at yet another bar (hardly in short supply around here) about thirty men in evening dress loitered and gawked, drinks in hand. Due to the averted-eyes ruIe I couldn’t count them accurately, eventually a matter of direct concern no doubt. Our group of about twenty O’s lined up at the wall opposite the bar. We kept our hands at our sides and stood with our legs a bit apart, so the men could see everything that interested them, all framed perfectly by the ingenious design of our dresses.
I’d sized up a few of the O’s before in the waiting room. The oldest of us was in her mid-forties with billowing breasts (one adorned with an “O” tattoo), short black hair and relatively heavy makeup. Her O dress was brown and beige and her noticeably long labia were decorated with three heavy metal rings. She was attractive and quite poised with a haughty look about her.
The youngest one was barely twenty, thin but busty, with curly dark brown hair and a very pretty if rather empty face. She wore an obviously cheap O dress in red and black with a pleated skirt simply slit in front and back. He skin was light, almost white. She could barely walk in her very high plateau sandals, which were a whorish red to match the dress. Her red fingernails and toenails also matched and gold rings decorated her nipples.
It had been made clear during our training that we were not to develop personal affections among us (though of course we did), but rather to concentrate on competing for the men’s pleasure. So I did what I’d learned to do – remain cool, friendly and remote from my sisters lest someone else’s problems become mine. Still, though unspoken, my worries about Cora remained at the back of my mind. I’m not quite the heartless bitch I often appear. She had many of the qualities of an O – powerful appetites and a certain appreciation for the aphrodisiac effects of fear and pain. But The League was not a weekend resort where one came and went. It was a life to be lived inside The Castle or out. I wasn’t sure Cora was right for that life. This was one of those problems not to be made my own.
We were introduced one by one. One of the liveried men read from a list that included real names as well as nicknames of the men and O’s. Each of the men stepped forward to be presented with his O and to enumerate her likes, her dislikes and her limits. Federico surprised me with the announcement that I would be available orally without protection. I had highly regarded skills in this department and preferred to demonstrate them bareback, though not with so many strangers in attendance. Moreover, I don’t like the taste of semen mixed with alcohol and knew that by midnight there would have been plenty of drinking. I wasn’t sure if this was a demonstration of pride in the skills of his O or revenge for my equally well-known attitude, which annoyed Federico and almost all the other members of The League at one time or another. Otherwise, I was free to be used without any unusual restrictions. Genital or anal penetration required condoms and senseless beatings that could cause irreparable damage were frowned upon in these circles. But clearly, I would be harshly tested that night at my mentor’s instigation. From Federico, who understood me better than anyone, I got something I could find nowhere else, but that didn’t stop me from detesting the way he took advantage of my vices for his own amusement. He and I were both ever aware of my divided soul.
Cora was last in line. The liveried man even bowed as he announced the initiation of a new O. Alexander stepped forward and almost tenderly guided Cora to the middle of the room. She looked exceptionally beautiful this evening. Her wonderfully firm breasts with their long rosy nipples (particularly erect now from arousal and apprehension), her fair skin, long, straight, black hair, her delicate hands and feet – would wake the dead. Such charms worked to the advantage of any O going through the initiation. Most of the men were successful in business, the majority in or near middle age. They were not young stallions that could last for hours. Most of them depended on some kind of chemical support. Asian Kamagra jelly was definitely a favorite. Some considered it more effective then Viagra, though that belief may have had more to do with its perceived powers than its chemical composition. Only two or three orgasms in the few hours could be expected from these men (with a few notable and rather frightening exceptions). For a girl as desirable as Cora, most couplings would be brief and the presence of so many other attractive women would keep her from being utterly overwhelmed.
Still, nearly all of the men would save their last shot for the new O, who was only available after her midnight whipping. For more experienced O’s able to appreciate so much attention for its own sake, such desirability offered different advantages. I do like cock and the number of men who would be interested in me would be typically high. Yes, I am that kind of woman. Some men find me intimidating but those who don’t are precisely the ones I prefer.
Connected to the large room with the bar were a few smaller rooms equipped with various specialized furnishings. I didn’t see all of them, but in some there were beds or mattresses while others were equipped with rings everywhere, anchored to the ceiling, walls and floor for conveniently fastening an O to any purpose. There were also implements of torture – racks, wheels, hoists, whipping frames, impalement stands fitted with dildos of all sizes and types. Descending those stairs to this place was like a journey back to the middle ages, or perhaps to hell itself.
After the introduction, the liveried men walked down the row of women and attached leather wrist and ankle cuffs with rings to each of us so the men wouldn’t have to tie or untie us every time they wanted to fasten us to something. As the last padlock clicked shut on my right ankle-cuff, two large- bellied older men strolled over for a look. I lowered my eyes, gladly in this instance. One of them took me by my upper arm and led me toward a room in the back. Neither of them said a word. They stood me in front of a type of pillory and explored my body with their hands.
“Wet.” said one of them with a strong Slavic accent, his fingers already in my pussy. The other unzipped his pants and brought forth a wrinkled, semi-stiff penis. The view wasn’t much better down there.
“Blowjob without a condom, yes?”
I nodded and wanted to drop to my knees and make quick work of these two, but the other man held me up by my arm. They opened the pillory, which had holes for my hands and neck, pushed me into the thing and locked it down. I stood, bent forward, at a ninety-degree angle. The guy who wanted a blowjob shoved his penis in my mouth while the other one groped my painfully raw butt. He said something to his friend in their language and they both laughed. He roughly kicked my feet apart. I felt his hard penis on my asshole.
I hate anal sex except when I don’t. Then I love it.
He pushed relentlessly past my sphincters. Though he’d slapped some lube on his cock, a stabbing pain shot up through my body. I screamed into the stomach of the man standing in front of me. That must have pleased him, as he immediately ejaculated into my mouth. As soon as his buddy was done with my backside they ambled out with a final slap on my poor ass, leaving me standing in the pillory. Everywhere I heard the sounds of the party cranking up: whip cracks, cries of pain and cries of lust. Lifting my head as far as I could, I noticed a sort of peephole in the wall in front of me. Through it I could see into the next room where three men were fucking a slender redhead in a snow-white O-dress. They rolled her onto her back, blocking my nice view with a black tuxedo jacket. I was starting to hate this pillory thing already.
Click here for Part 4
About the Authors:
Ernest Greene is the author of the well-renowned novel for Daedalus Publishing, Master of O, reinventing the BDSM classic Story of O set in modern Los Angeles and told from the master’s point of view. His previous work includes co-authoring Coming Attractions, the Making of an X-Rated Video with Dr. Robert Stoller (Yale University Press, 1989) and shared credit with his spouse, Nina Hartley on Nina Hartley’s Guide to Total Sex (2006), from Avery Press, a division of USA Penguin Group.
Greene is a longtime member of the Los Angeles BDSM community, joining Threshold when it was still an affiliate of The Society of Janus. He served six terms as Threshold coordinator between 1989 and 1995. He continued to do orientations for new members thereafter and participated in numerous outreaches to academic groups.
Since 1985, Greene has concentrated his efforts mainly in adult entertainment and adult sex education, serving as Executive Editor of the best-selling fetish magazine Hustler’s Taboo since 1999 and most recently as Chief Associate Editor for Hustler’s All-Sex issues.
Ernest Greene, has participated in the production of adult video for three decades as a performer, writer, director and producer. His body of work comprises over five hundred titles, including AVN award winners Strictly for Pleasure, Mask of Innocence, Tristan Taormino’s Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women and Jenna Loves Pain. With his wife, Nina Hartley, he has served as producer and director of the Nina Hartley’s Guide series of adult sex education programs for video market leader Adam&Eve Pictures. The series has sold over three quarters of a million videos to date and now comprises forty titles. His own erotic features for Adam&Eve, O – The Power of Submission, Surrender of O and The Truth About O have thus far seen sales nearing 100,000 units, making them among the biggest selling X-rated feature titles in recent years.
Greene is particularly well known for his groundbreaking approach to the presentation of unconventional sexuality related to consensual domination and submission. He has been active in the BDSM community for nearly thirty years, conducting workshops and seminars and serving as an officer of community groups. He is a retired six-term coordinator of Threshold, Southern California’s oldest active pansexual BDSM organization. His activism also extends to the world of adult video production, where he held the position of chairman of the board of directors of The Adult Industry Medical Healthcare Foundation (AIM) for seven years and to his commentaries on the adult industry Blog for Pro-Porn Activism.
Nina Hartley is a pioneering feminist sex worker, using her body in the service of promoting a sexually sane and literate society. She is thrilled to see a new generation of sex-positive performer/activists take its space and spread the good news about sex. Active as a performer since 1982, her rock-solid commitment to the importance of sexual autonomy has fueled Ms. Hartley’s career in adult entertainment. As a performer, director, writer, educator, public speaker, and feminist thinker for all, no matter their orientation, she’s traveled the world to deliver her message. She believes that sexual freedom is a fundamental human right and welcomes the new social media opportunities for spreading her message of knowledge and empowerment to the widest number of people. She’s the author of, “Nina Hartley’s Guide to Total Sex,” from Avery Press. Putting to use her B.S. degree in nursing, she and her husband, Ernest Greene, have produced the million-selling sex-ed video series collectively known as “The Nina Hartley Guides,” from Adam & Eve, currently in its 38th episode. Still active in front of the camera, she and her husband live in Los Angeles.
Ernest’s Website: masterofo.com
Making A Scene
There are few things in the BDSM world that are better than a great scene. Whether it’s a long, winding Sadomasochism session, a freaky role play, or a good old rough romp, great scenes are one of the best parts about being kinky for many of us.
We should start by talking about what a scene is. A scene generally is a period of time which you (usually with a partner or partners) create a space dedicated to practicing the activities that make you kinky in the first place, with the desired outcome of reaching some form of climax or satisfaction. That last part is the key element in what separates it from, say, a kinky activity or a bit of light play.
It should be noted that there are a number of other names for these shared experiences, like a Session or a Playtime, and there are some great discussions about what they should be called. For the sake of this piece, though, I’m going with Scene. I like the word Scene because it gives a better idea of what the whole experience should be like. It should be like a performance, a work of art, and it should tell a story.
For the sake of clarity, I don’t mean it should start with “Once upon a time” and end “Happily ever after”. What I mean is it should flow from moment to moment, movement to movement, and take us on some kind of journey together. This is something I’ve implemented in my play, whether it’s an intimate moment between myself and my partner or a performance in front of a crowd of people on a stage.
So let’s talk about how to build and pull off a great scene.
Communicate Roles and Story Clearly
To tell a good story, you need a character, a motivation, and a journey. When we play out a scene, we need the same thing. All parties need to know what their roles are, what drives them in the scene, and where they are going. This is an essential part of a negotiation that takes it from a conversation about implements and pain tolerance and transforms it into a collaborative effort to build an experience together.
One thing I almost always ask when negotiating a scene is “What would you like to get from this scene?” As a bottom, this gives me a valuable understanding of how to best fulfill my partner’s needs. As a top, this also gives me an idea of the “Genre” of the scene. It tells me where the other person wants the scene to go, and that tells me a lot about how to get there as we craft the scene together.
Know how to begin
Any good story has a Beginning, and Middle, and an End. I think most of us know how to do the middle part of the scene pretty well, as that’s the part that people tend to focus on. The beginning is important too, though. Like a story, the beginning of a scene should focus on establishing the roles, the tone, the theme, and the direction. Once you have established with your partner(s) what your story is, work with them to get that story going in a way that lets you both (or all) really get into it.
One thing I like to do when topping with a new partner is to begin a scene with a lot of touch and quiet eye contact. I make slow and deliberate movements. I feel the parts of their body that might be involved in the scene or quietly talk about what is about to occur. What happens in this time all depends on what the coming scene will be. However, it always contains a few minutes of connection and focus to establish the rapport and what I’ll call the “Dialogue” of the scene (after all, isn’t most of what we do just a form of communication?). During this time,
I am setting the scene up, giving us both a chance to get into the right headspace to get into it.
Buy into the drama of your scene
Imagine watching a horror movie where all the actors seemed like they were too busy trying to be cool or to seem above it all to buy into the fact that some monster or alien or masked killer is coming after them. What gives us the chills and makes us scream is their ability to buy into the fear and uncertainty their character is meant to convey. You want to do the same thing when you are getting into your scene. Whatever your role is- a super strict Dominant, or a wanton masochist, or a petulant brat-let yourself get into it. Let yourself buy into your role.
This can be especially hard when you are playing in a public space. You might feel a little silly barking like a puppy in front of people, or calling someone a “Boot slut” and scowling. That’s totally normal for many people who are new. One piece of advice that I got during Drama class has stuck with me in my BDSM journey; “Play your scene TO the audience, but play it FOR your partner.” It can be fun to get on-lookers into it, but in the end remember that you are here for the other person(s), and let that drive you to really express yourself.
Don’t take yourself too seriously though
We see actors struggle with this all the time. When they can’t laugh off a flubbed line, or take a minute to be themselves, they get so far into character that they can’t seem to break it. They often become a burden to those around them, going on abusive rants like Christian Bale in Terminator, or terrorizing castmates like Jared Leto in Suicide Squad.
We should recognize this in our own scenes, too. What we do is very real, but it’s also not at the same time. In reality, I’m not really a pillaging Viking, I don’t fit the clinical definition of a “Sexual Sadist,” and just because someone calls me Daddy doesn’t mean I am their parent. In many ways, what we do subverts reality by giving us the space to express aspects of ourselves that need a place to live and breathe. Many of us take it very seriously to varying levels, of course, but allowing yourself space to not take things too seriously is important. Stay grounded. Laugh when you need to. Preserve the magic, but respect the reality.
Use foreshadowing
Few things in a story are better than payoffs, and a good payoff is built around a healthy and reasonable dose of foreshadowing. Whether it’s laying out all the toys for the scene before you even start, or it’s giving the crop a good smack against a nearby surface to send chills, or making a comment about their feet moving around too much several minutes before doing a little consensual bondage mid-scene, use foreshadowing to build the tension a little and make those payoffs even better.
For example, one thing I have enjoyed doing is teasing out a certain toy. I’ll bring it out with a partner as we negotiate and mention how much I love it (it’s a 12 inch piece of high-temp pressure hose), and tell them it’s name (“Shia LeBouf” because I feel that no one else really appreciates it like I do, but it always puts in good work). Throughout the scene, without using it, I mention how much I love Shia. Every time I go to find another toy, I will hold it up or talk about it. Or maybe I’ll smack it against my hand and talk about how it feels.It builds the tension, and makes them wonder when Shia will make an appearance. Then, when I feel like it, I’ll bring that toy in and reward their patience. This gives the scene not only a sense of tension, but also intention, which drives it towards a payoff that can really give the scene a lot of energy.
Give your scene some twists and turns
Have you ever listened to a song that doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, with no buildup or hooks, nothing to keep you going, so you tune out after like 40 seconds? A scene can end up like this if you don’t know how to maintain the drama. Now, I don’t mean Drama like the social kind. I mean having tension, movement, twists, and breaks. As you negotiate and play, give your scene a rhythm. Then let that rhythm move and flow. Give it build ups and let downs. This may seem like it applies mostly to tops, but bottoms can also play a role as well.
This doesn’t have to be a complicated, Shyamalan-level twist. It can be as simple as knowing when to take it slower or when to build intensity. This is as much about playing with the mind as it is about playing with the body. One favorite of mine is when a partner and I have decided and negotiated to push the scene until they are nearing their threshold for pain. When it’s clear to both of us that we may need to stop soon, I will ask them for “Just one more strike, okay?”, giving them a chance to get up their nerve. Then I will line up my shot, making them count down from 3 to 1 so “I know when to go” (insert ironic tone for effect). When they get to the last number, instead of striking them, I’ll strike my own hand or a nearby surface causing a loud noise. This often leads to a lot of cursing and name-calling, but it can be a very effective twist on an intense moment.
Don’t be afraid to improvise
I want to be very clear with this one; I do not recommend or condone improvising in a way that violates negotiation or consent of the other party (or parties).
There are ways, though, that you can improvise while maintaining respect for the boundaries and expectations of your partner. This is a lot like stage improv. When you perform any kind of improvisation on stage, there is a concept called “Yes, and…”, meaning you support and affirm your partner, and then add something of your own to carry on the scene. You also have an established setting and “rules” you follow. You and your partner work together within those boundaries to keep a scene moving.
Kink is the same way. You can work together to improvise through a BDSM scene too. This comes up a lot in rope, actually, as many ties are difficult to execute, or hard on the bottom. If you become too committed to a specific rig or harness, it can end up making a scene much more frustrating, which makes the whole experience worse as a result..
Instead of getting stuck, or frustrated, allow yourself a break from the private commitment you’ve made to yourself in a scene and instead focus on working with your partner to improvise a way to keep the scene going. If you need to redirect or change pace within the boundaries of your negotiated scene, you should give yourself the space to do so. Again, I want to reiterate that this is not permission to change consent mid-scene, nor am I recommending violating your negotiated agreement. This is about the conversation between the Top(s) and bottom(s) taking on the cooperative “Yes, and…” nature of improvisation, trying to walk organically through a scene together.
Know how to end
Much like Beginnings, people often struggle with endings. They either treat it like a workout and just do a little cooldown, jumping right into aftercare, or perhaps just ending it outright without much notice. This can be jarring and unnerving (Imagine if Star Wars just ended with the explosion of the Death Star. Boom, explosion, and roll credits).
Plan the end of your scene before it comes. This is, again, one mostly for the tops. Know when you are hitting the Third Act, where the climax should go, and how you should wind down from that. An important part of this is to know when enough is enough.
A common problem with scene endings I come across is people who keep wanting to push for more when more is untenable. A lot of times, a scene will need to end before we are prepared for it, which can be disturbing and/or unsatisfying. With this being said, it’s important to see the end coming before it’s there, and act accordingly with the everyone’s best interest in mind. I like to include a conversation in the scene at some point where I will my partner(s) to self-assess where they are at, or give them a clear indicator that I am going to be wrapping up. This may be on the nose for some, but for me it’s a simple way to signify the shift in tone that comes with ending a scene.
For many, having great scenes won’t just happen without putting in a little bit of work. Anyone can have amazing playtimes if they are willing to put in the practice, though. Remember that, ultimately, a good scene is about everyone having a wonderful time, feeling satisfied, and wanting to do it again because it was that awesome. Pain, humiliation, service, and control are all ways of expressing ourselves and communicating with each other. Like any language, you can learn how to speak it in a way that excites people. Keep that in mind as you work on your scenes and you’ll do great.
By: Baron Von Aaron
Aaron is a kinkster, writer, Viking, and Curling fan with over a decade worth of experience. He enjoys sharing the knowledge and insights he has gained over his own journey. Follow him on Twitter @BaronKink
This week in kink, May 7, 2018
Check out the on-going debate about consensual sadomasochism vs. violence and how our legal system handles such things. Click here to read more.
San Francisco votes to recognize its Gay Fetish Leather District. Click here to find out more.
Be sure to check out DomCon this weekend if you are in Los Angeles. Click here to check it out.
Academia submits its final report for Consensual Relationships Policy. Click here to read more.
Have some kinky news to share? Tell us about any upcoming BDSM events, new products, dungeon openings / closings, collarings, kink in mainstream media, and anything else you think kinky folks might be interested to hear about. Send your tips through to news@kinkweekly.com, and it might just end up on next week’s “This Week in Kink”
The Initiation of Cora: Part 2
Click here for Part 1
As always, I was impressed by the size and elegance of the property. It wasn’t really a castle like in the fairy tales. It was more of a huge, sprawling farm built in the style of the late Nineteenth Century at the beginning of the Austrian imperial era.
The building was square, with a sixty-by-eighty-meter inner courtyard. The courtyard was covered in white gravel, which was a beautiful contrast to the dark-green-painted windows, doors, and roof beams. The walls were yellow with white trim. Classic.
Herrmann greeted us with a couple of unnecessary swats and led us into a white-tiled bathroom off the high-ceilinged foyer. We had half an hour to clean up and enjoy the warmth. We helped wash off each other’s feet as best we could and attempted to warm up inside as well with the rum tea they had left for us. Cora was genuinely shocked by the condition of my behind, but I told her to look out for herself instead of worrying about me. I watched her closely. She didn’t have the initiation behind her yet and was basically still a novice. I felt our “greeting,” which she’d had no way to anticipate, was a bit much for someone so new.
Well, that was for The Consigliere and others to decide. Perhaps it was a test and if Cora had failed there would have been no need to go forward with the rest of her initiation. There is a certain freedom that comes from having no say in how things turn out.
Herrmann brought us our clothes. No shoes. Most of the slaves or O’s in The Castle went barefoot. In Sir’s enormous office sat six men. They chatted. Some smoked cigars, drank coffee.
As Herrmann led us in, I did my best to seem calm and collected as I usually am, even though my feet and pussy were in a lot of pain. My tight-fitting dress caused an enormous burning sensation on my ass. Cora came unsteadily along next to me, her eyes full of tears.
“Ah, the ladies. Please have a seat.”
Sir pointed at two chairs. On the huge leather sectional next to Federico and the Consigliere sat three other men, only one of who was familiar. Oscar was a well-known attorney, politically connected and often in the media. He was considered a likely candidate to take over a position in the ministry of finance. He was arrogant, successful, unapproachable, and to me, unappealing. It was surprising to see him there. As far as I knew he was not a member of The League. His wife was a good-looking woman in her thirties, known for her involvement with various charities. She never missed a party and certainly never a photo op. The other two men seemed to be friends of Oscar, but I’d never seen them before.
I gave Cora a little nudge to open her legs a bit more and made sure to sit up straight. Oscar’s gaze was fixed right between my knees and I opened them a bit more. I knew from looking at them in the bathroom that our pussies were chafed, our vulvas red and swollen. It was certainly a nice view for those who could appreciate its unique features. I tried to make eye contact with Federico, but he was in a quiet conversation with the two unknown men. The Consigliere sat silently observing Cora. Unexpectedly, he got up and stood behind her. He ran his hand softly over her hair and bent down to whisper something in her ear. He spoke with her for about a minute and I could see her begin to calm down. I was unable to hear any of their conversation but whatever he said to her seemed to work. I was always curious about The Consigliere and I think he may have been curious about me but we never exchanged intimacies other than physically. Federico was Alexander’s best friend from when they were kids and I think that made him a little uneasy with me. There was an attraction between us he saw as a danger to their friendship.
Sir offered us some coffee, sat down and turned to me.
“You were delayed?”
“Yes, first on the Autobahn, then at the gate by Hungarians.”
He looked at me, and nodded straight-faced. Federico grinned slightly.
“I told Herrmann to make you aware of your tardiness.”
“He did. The Hungarians then showed us a bit of the property. We paid for being late.”
“Good. Would you please show us your marks? I would like to know whether my orders were followed correctly.”
“Naturally.”
I stood up on my toes with wide-open legs, pulled my dress up high and spread my lips with two fingers. The future minister’s eyes nearly fell out. The two other men could only stare.
“The swelling is from the rope they put on us for the walk.”
I turned, lifted one foot up, then the other and showed them the soles of my feet.
“This is from walking barefoot over the gravel roads.”
And then I pulled the dress up over my ass.
“Two times, two dozen strokes with a hazelnut switch.”
I turned back around, rearranged my dress and sat down gingerly. I sipped my coffee. The future minister and the two unknown men gazed, bewildered. Federico smiled and The Consigliere stood behind Cora, caressing her hair.
Talk between the men became lively once again and the future minister got busy trying to impress Federico. After about half an hour the gathering came to a close. The two strangers and the future minister said their goodbyes.
“We will definitely be seeing more of each other, beautiful,” Oscar told me, a prospect that held no appeal.
We were alone now with Federico, Franklin and the Consigliere. Sir called Ms. Karmann, who was head of the household staff, on the intercom at his desk and ordered her to get our dresses for tomorrow night. Cora looked at me, puzzled. I had an idea of what kind of dresses he meant.
The Consigliere made his explanation, most of which was familiar to me from previous occasions.
“My dears, Federico, Sir Franklin and I will be participating in a big Soiree near Bratislava tomorrow with both of you. It is a Nuit d’ O, an event with very strict rules following the practices of Roissy. You will both be properly costumed as O’s in skirts and bodices. However, your genitalia and breasts will be exposed and accessible, just like in the book and the film. “At a Soiree like this, every man puts his O at the disposal of all other men present, after some discussion of what will be permitted, of course. You, my lovely Sabrina, will be wearing your red collar, which means anything is allowed. You, dear Cora, will be given a green collar for your initiation. “I will need your consent in this. At any time you may refuse to participate further by using your safeword – deliverance. If you do you will be taken home immediately and never allowed to return. If you choose to remain and undergo the ceremony you will wear the Ring of O and be a full-fledged member of The League. Understood?”
The Consigliere had a knack for making things seem clear and reasonable, though in practice they were often more complicated.
Cora sniffled a bit, and said quietly:
“Yes. I asked for this. I will obey. What do I have to do there?”
“Well, my dear, tomorrow we will be expecting about twenty couples, men with their O’s. They come from all over Europe. Some are very well known people you might have seen under other circumstances. That will not be important here. In addition, there will be six or eight single men in attendance. “Because it will be your initiation you will be the center of attention. You will be presented in the dress of O and the green collar until midnight. That means nobody will be allowed to touch you without my permission.
“At midnight we will proceed with the ceremony. You will be brought to the center of the room completely naked, bound and given five- dozen lashes with the blacksnake over your entire body. “After that, your green collar will be switched out for the red one and you will be entirely at the disposal of all men present. It is required that all in attendance take you at least once, vaginally, anally or orally. Do you understand?”
Cora sat there and looked at the Consigliere, her face gone ashen. I saw her quivering as she glanced over at me.
“Did… you also have to do something like this, Sabrina?”
I nodded.
“Naturally. All of us. Like that, or similar.”
She blinked.
“How… how can I take this, endure something like this? How?”
“You’re not supposed to just take it, or endure it. You’re supposed to enjoy it.”
I remembered what I had been told at my own initiation: “Devotion is not a question of submission. Love, lust, and sometimes simply curiosity will elicit submission. But the woman who devotes herself must also be very strong and sure of her own motives.”
We would soon see if Cora had that strength.
She’d already passed the first test by enduring the punishment I’d brought on both of us. Later she would face a more severe test trial unlike the brutish treatment awaiting our arrival.
I kept it to myself but was of the opinion Cora would not ever become a real O. I saw her as being curious, or perhaps bored with her apparently uneventful marriage. Possibly she’d simply been persuaded by the Consigliere. She would be neither the first nor the last to succumb to his charm. Later, to my surprise, I found out that Cora had pursued him and not the other way around.
Whatever her reasons, I was certain that this beautiful woman was not interested in The League as a thing in itself. She was shocked by the small punishment we had received earlier and visibly shaken by all that followed. If she stayed, she’d look back on this as an easy day. I wasn’t convinced such a life was right for her but that wasn’t any of my business. She was here of her own accord and been given a safeword like the rest of us that would stop whatever was happening to her instantly and permanently. This was the catch of the safeword. Using it required a very serious decision immediately and under great duress. Once used it would exclude her from The League forever. I was always surprised that none of us ever used ours. I wondered if Cora would be the first.
As always, there were five of us at dinner. Sir Franklin had asked Herrmann and Sica, a small, pudgy, smiling twenty-five year old Italian girl who ruled the kitchen for Sir Franklin and bossed around the huge Herrmann as if he were a schoolboy, to cook an appropriate meal. That meant at least a two-hour affair with nothing less than five courses. That night we got seven. The food was superb, the wine pairing outstanding and the atmosphere almost surreally relaxed, given the circumstances that brought us there. Sir Franklin was a wonderful host, his most important qualification as head of The League. I felt happy and content being with Federico and Alexander, who had been such close friends for so many years they were often thought to be brothers, though there was no family connection between them.
They both told stories of the crazy things they’d done as young men and spoke of their time racing cars. Much laughter filled the room. At some point during dessert the topic of piercings and tattoos came up. There were different opinions on the matter. Personally I don’t care for either of those things on my own body, and said so.
Federico grinned.
“Yeah, that’s true. But I accept it. Otherwise I would have put some rings on her long ago.”
“Practically all of our O’s wear some permanent ornamentation,” Sir Franklin explained.
Sweet Cora was curious.
“What kind of ornamentation?”
Sir Franklin looked at her.
“Normally gold or steel rings on the nipples or sometimes on the labia or clit.”
Her eyes widened.
“On the clit?”
“Yeah. Sylvia, a young lady who was initiated two years ago wears all that plus an additional three rings in each pussy lip by choice. Her pussy can be laced shut so only her ass and mouth are available, something her master enjoys doing to her from time to time.”
Cora puffed out her cheeks.
“I’d like to see that sometime…”
“No problem,” Sir Franklin said.
He rang for Hermann and instructed him to get Sylvia. Cora wanted to know who and where Sylvia was.
Amused, Sir Franklin raised one eyebrow.
“Sylvia is an O who has been with us here while her owner is abroad. She should be hanging from the ceiling in the basement at the moment.”
Before Cora could ask further questions, The Consigliere silenced her with a wave of his hand.
We went on eating and talking, except for Cora who clearly had other things on her mind, until Herrmann returned with Sylvia.
I would have guessed her to be somewhere north of thirty but south of forty, a bit smaller than me. She wore her hair shoulder-length. She was otherwise completely shaved and, at the moment, completely naked. I’d never met her before but I was aware Sir Franklin had something special planned for her per her absentee owner’s request. She stood before us in the basic position of presentation: up on her toes with legs wide spread, hands interlocked behind her head.
Sir Franklin pointed at the naked woman with his fork.
“Now, dear Cora, you may take a closer look if you’d like.”
Both of Sylvia’s nipples were pierced with steel bars four centimeters long from each of which dangled a silver horseshoe ring.
Both her outer labia were pierced with four steel rings and her clit was decorated with small garnet studs on a curved bar that went right through the most sensitive spot on her body.
Cora stood up, walked over to Sylvia and asked shyly:
“May I?”
Sylvia’s gaze never left the floor.
“Please, madam. Help yourself to me as you wish.”
I noticed that Sylvia’s backside was webbed with fading marks, evidently traces from her master’s most recent visit. Cora touched the dangling half circles on her nipples.
“How did they do that?”
Sylvia had a pronounced west Austrian dialect, Tirol or perhaps Vorarlberg. She wore a wedding ring, visible on an interlocked hand at the back of her head
“My husband wanted this, and therefore I wanted it as well. It was done here two years ago.”
“Without anesthetic?”
“Some girls have their piercings done after a small injection of Novocain but my husband wanted me to really feel it. I wanted that as well. Unfortunately, I passed out during the clit piercing.”
Cora stared at the woman wide-eyed.
The Consigliere put down his fork and spoke up. I grew increasingly certain of what would happen next.
“Do you like the way they look, Cora?”
Cora turned to her mentor.
“I… yes… it’s all very pretty. I mean, on my… on my private parts it wouldn’t appeal to me. But yes, the nipple rings are very beautiful.”
The Consigliere looked at Franklin and raised an eyebrow.
“Hmmm. Gold would suit her best I think,” he said. “But we should perhaps wait on this until after the initiation. It might be safer.”
Safer than having fresh piercings pulled on, sucked, contaminated with sweat and sperm and possible struck with a whip? I knew the Consigliere would never have permitted such risky behavior involving his new O, but he deferred to Franklin. It was Alexander’s way to give advice and let others give orders.
Cora, still mesmerized, continued to examine Sylvia, oblivious to the conversation.
Cora seemed to amuse Franklin with her wide-eyed amazement at everything she saw. She had a lot to learn, especially concerning how an O was to behave here in The Castle. But she wasn’t an O yet, just a prospect, at least until tomorrow.
Cora ran her fingertips across Sylvia’s nipple again, which went hard instantly.
Sylvia answered quietly without looking up.
“Does it make them more sensitive,” Cora asked.
“Very much so, madam. And my clit as well. The slightest friction down there makes me wet so I am most of the time.
The Consigliere laughed.
“Cora’s wet all the time anyway.”
Cora, who had obviously been with girls before, stroked the little jeweled bar lightly, then traced a fingertip between Sylvia’s labia. A shudder rippled through Sylvia’s body and her eyelids fluttered down.
Cora looked over at Alexander, who shrugged.
“We can always have it done later if you change your mind,” he said calmly. You can sit down now.”
Sylvia spoke again softly.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I would very much like some of your sperm. May I?”
Federico and Alexander nodded. Sir Franklin gave his permission. Sylvia got down on all fours and disappeared under the table.
I felt a bit cocky as the most senior O present.
“And me? Can she also pleasure me?”
Sir Franklin laughed.
“Of course! Sylvia, did you catch that, Sylvia?”
She already had Federico’s cock in her mouth and all we heard was “Mmmmhhhhmmm.”
After Sylvia finished under the table she was led away by Herrmann. She had also visited Cora and me with her tongue, lips and fingertips, demonstrating admirable technique with women as well as men.
Cora, the obedient wife of Albert, son of the rich owner of a printing company, reached down and pulled Sylvia by the hair. Cora’s legs shot out to the sides and she braced herself on the sides of the chair. A few minutes of wet sucking noises from Sylvia’s labors and Cora went stiff, letting out a surprisingly loud howl Looking at the impressed faces of Alexander, Federico and Sir Franklin.
At a gesture from Franklin Herrmann ushered Sylvia out of the room but not before the naked girl could give us all a proper curtsy and thank us for using her. Cora watched her follow Herrmann out, her footsteps light as a dancer’s. Yes, Cora had a lot to learn and she was beginning to realize it.
I had no doubt tomorrow night’s initiation would be memorable in all respects.
Not far from Bratislava, Slovakia
The dark Mercedes Vito with the tinted windows rolled up to the border near Bratislava. I couldn’t help wondering how the customs officers would react to what we weren’t wearing if we were stopped or were made to get out of the vehicle. The formal clothing of O that we wore for Cora’s initiation was beautiful and elaborate, made from heavy silk, though not much of it. If we removed our hooded cloaks Cora, Daniela, and I would have been practically naked.
Cora wore golden sandals held on her feet by very thin straps beginning at the instep and tied up around the ankle. I had received the same in silver. It wasn’t easy to walk in them but walking was not our purpose.
Cora’s dress had been made up in warm brown tones. The flowing skirt was a bit lighter than the brown bodice, which tied in the back and lifted her breasts just enough to display them perfectly, new gold rings glittering in the muted lighting of the car’s interior. Our skirts were slit in the front and back, held together by five-centimeter waistbands. They were designed so the sides could be flipped up and fastened at the waist with a button to provide unobstructed access to our intimate anatomies. Our breasts were fully exposed. My bodice was grey and my skirt was black. Daniela’s “uniform,” was identical but all in white. She wore very high peep-toes instead of sandals. Daniela was an O from Italy. She lived in The Castle with Sir Franklin and served next to Ms. Karmann as his personal secretary. A little taller than most, Daniela was slender, with small but firm breasts and perpetually erect nipples. Her dark hair fell just past her shoulders. She had a very pretty face, despite somewhat sharp features, that men enjoyed getting messy. Our makeup was subtle but our nails were painted a bright red, high and low. Cora and I both wore rings on our second toes. Hers was gold, and mine silver. I wore a ring, just like Daniela, on my pointer finger. It was the ring of O, a simple flat silver band with a small ring attached to it.
All three of us had our hair up and fastened with gold or silver barrettes. Cora’s big, beautiful nipples were swollen and looked tender from Herrmann’s needlework. I was still rankled by Federico’s indifference to my concerns about them, but I understood that this was just his way. Other people’s concerns weren’t his.
We crossed the border without being stopped at all. Herrmann seemed to know Bratislava well. He steered the Vito confidently through the city. The Consigliere sat in the passenger seat next to him. The girls occupied the middle row while Federico and Sir Franklin lounged in the back.
Daniela had been scooting around in her seat for the longest time and these bumpy streets weren’t helping one bit.
“I have to pee. Please.”
This was probably going to get interesting.
Hermann whispered something to the Consigliere, and both of them laughed. Alexander turned around towards us.
“If you can’t take it anymore my dear, Herrmann knows somewhere where you can relieve yourself.” Daniela nodded and then looked out the window. Her face turned red. She knew what little dare was about to present itself. Sir Franklin spoke up from the back.
“Herrmann, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yes, Sir Franklin. If you don’t mind?”
Sir Franklin laughed quietly. “Of course. But please watch out for my girl, okay? We don’t want to get stopped and be delayed because she can’t contain her bladder.”
Herrmann promised to make sure it wouldn’t happen. Daniela and I exchanged a look, imagining what humiliation they had in mind for her.
Daniela and I had only seen each other at The Castle two or three times. She was legendary for always participating in the hunts, a thing I had never done, nor did I plan to do. She’d tried it four times and always lost, not a record I cared to best. After the second time she had to realize she would always get caught. I assumed she preferred it that way, which was a significant difference between us. The O’s of The Castle were ordinarily expected to accede to everything their Mentors requested of them but the hunts were an exception – hazardous duty and strictly for volunteers. Of course, occasionally a Mentor or member, of the hundreds of whom only twenty held Mentor status, would request that a woman he brought into The League take part in a hunt, but nobody could make this a command. The hunts were the hardest and most brutal challenge any of us would face. Most of the women participated initially hoping to elude the hunters and collect a very substantial reward. That wasn’t how things usually went.
The task seemed simple enough, if also utterly terrifying. The woman would be set out naked somewhere in the wilderness. Owing to the presence of a few high-ranking Austrian, Italian, German, Hungarian, Czech, and Slovakian officers in the community of societees the cruel game was often played on military training grounds. The hunted girl was given a map and a target destination she had to reach before being captured.
The size of the all-male hunting parties depended upon how many enthusiasts were available and how many were willing to contribute to the cost. Every participant had to put up a hefty sum. A bit of the money paid for expenses, but the rest went to the woman if she won. The prize was generally in the neighborhood of ten thousand euro, a nice neighborhood by almost anyone’s definition.
But to win she had to make it to the protected zone on the map, the location of which was unknown to the hunters so they couldn’t just wait around for her to show up there. Sometimes, as a special incentive, checkpoints were added to the map. At the checkpoints there were stamps she would apply to her forearm. Every checkpoint stamp carried an added financial bonus if she escaped to collect it.
The woman got a sixty-minute head start. Normally the time limit to reach the target was twelve hours. For a naked woman, shoeless and without supplies of any kind in a harsh environment this was obviously quite a task.
If she wasn’t able to reach the target in time or if the men caught up with her, she was in serious trouble. Though the hunters didn’t communicate with each other during the search, if one of them found their prey the others were called together. Usually the girl would be whipped right where they found her. The hunters were also free to fuck her in every orifice. For the next twenty-four hours she was theirs to do with as they pleased. There were no boundaries and no rules about passing her on to others. It was very cruel sport. Alexander considered it barbaric and would not permit any of the O’s he mentored to participate.
Nevertheless, there were always women who took the bait. Supposedly the payout for winning was the lure, but I suspect some had additional motives. The lovely Daniela must have found the experience rewarding in some other way, as she never won a single euro in all her attempts.
I’m unsure of every detail, but rumor had it she was openly whipped in a remote border town and raped by every man there who wanted her, not as rare an event as one might suppose, as I later found out to my everlasting sorrow. There was even talk about forced sodomy with hunting dogs. Sir Franklin was silent on the subject but there were a few “meetings,” some apparently quite heated, with all the Mentors following Daniela’s hunt. Alexander prevailed that time and no League girls were hunted thereafter, or at least that was the official story.
Click here for Part 3
About the Authors:
Ernest Greene is the author of the well-renowned novel for Daedalus Publishing, Master of O, reinventing the BDSM classic Story of O set in modern Los Angeles and told from the master’s point of view. His previous work includes co-authoring Coming Attractions, the Making of an X-Rated Video with Dr. Robert Stoller (Yale University Press, 1989) and shared credit with his spouse, Nina Hartley on Nina Hartley’s Guide to Total Sex (2006), from Avery Press, a division of USA Penguin Group.
Greene is a longtime member of the Los Angeles BDSM community, joining Threshold when it was still an affiliate of The Society of Janus. He served six terms as Threshold coordinator between 1989 and 1995. He continued to do orientations for new members thereafter and participated in numerous outreaches to academic groups.
Since 1985, Greene has concentrated his efforts mainly in adult entertainment and adult sex education, serving as Executive Editor of the best-selling fetish magazine Hustler’s Taboo since 1999 and most recently as Chief Associate Editor for Hustler’s All-Sex issues.
Ernest Greene, has participated in the production of adult video for three decades as a performer, writer, director and producer. His body of work comprises over five hundred titles, including AVN award winners Strictly for Pleasure, Mask of Innocence, Tristan Taormino’s Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women and Jenna Loves Pain. With his wife, Nina Hartley, he has served as producer and director of the Nina Hartley’s Guide series of adult sex education programs for video market leader Adam&Eve Pictures. The series has sold over three quarters of a million videos to date and now comprises forty titles. His own erotic features for Adam&Eve, O – The Power of Submission, Surrender of O and The Truth About O have thus far seen sales nearing 100,000 units, making them among the biggest selling X-rated feature titles in recent years.
Greene is particularly well known for his groundbreaking approach to the presentation of unconventional sexuality related to consensual domination and submission. He has been active in the BDSM community for nearly thirty years, conducting workshops and seminars and serving as an officer of community groups. He is a retired six-term coordinator of Threshold, Southern California’s oldest active pansexual BDSM organization. His activism also extends to the world of adult video production, where he held the position of chairman of the board of directors of The Adult Industry Medical Healthcare Foundation (AIM) for seven years and to his commentaries on the adult industry Blog for Pro-Porn Activism.
Nina Hartley is a pioneering feminist sex worker, using her body in the service of promoting a sexually sane and literate society. She is thrilled to see a new generation of sex-positive performer/activists take its space and spread the good news about sex. Active as a performer since 1982, her rock-solid commitment to the importance of sexual autonomy has fueled Ms. Hartley’s career in adult entertainment. As a performer, director, writer, educator, public speaker, and feminist thinker for all, no matter their orientation, she’s traveled the world to deliver her message. She believes that sexual freedom is a fundamental human right and welcomes the new social media opportunities for spreading her message of knowledge and empowerment to the widest number of people. She’s the author of, “Nina Hartley’s Guide to Total Sex,” from Avery Press. Putting to use her B.S. degree in nursing, she and her husband, Ernest Greene, have produced the million-selling sex-ed video series collectively known as “The Nina Hartley Guides,” from Adam & Eve, currently in its 38th episode. Still active in front of the camera, she and her husband live in Los Angeles.
Ernest’s Website: masterofo.com
Black Friday Cuckold: Part 1
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Katie and Kink Weekly are in no way saying that anything done should ever be non-consensual, cross any hard limits, or put anyone in serious danger-mentally, physically, spiritually, or emotionally. We are also not condoning or supporting cuckolding as a way to salvage one’s relationship. Again, cuckolding should always be consensual and at the very least be a soft limit for everyone involved. Disclaimer done. Enjoy the story!
The day Travis Warner moved in next door, I had already made plans to leave my husband. Two years was enough time to give it a shot. Two years was enough time to realize that this was not the life I had always wanted.
Five months after we were married, I walked in on him fucking his secretary on my side of the bed. There was a part of me that was actually surprised that she would even be into him, given that he had never been very good at pleasing me in bed.
Cindy Benson was her name and she ran so fast out of my house, I am not entirely sure she had gotten dressed.
Something inside me broke that night.
I had packed a bag that night, screaming at him, so loudly I lost my voice. He had gotten down on his knees and begged. I had never seen him cry before.
“Please Krista, I have a problem, please she means nothing, please don’t go.”
We hadn’t even been married a full year before he felt the need to whore himself out.
“I have needs, Krista!” he cried through the locked bathroom door.
“And I don’t?” I pounded my fists hard against the wooden frame.
That was the night I threw the lamp at his head. It crashed in millions of little ceramic pieces all of the floor.
Ultimately I stayed. My father was still paying off the elaborate wedding, and I just could not admit to my mother that she had been right about divorce lawyers.
“Fucking, Scum. of. The. earth.” My mother was not known for mincing words. She hated James from the very beginning, and didn’t bother to hide it.
“I see how these things play out, Krista, I see it every fucking day, you don’t want to get caught up in a messy divorce.” he lightly kissed my forehead before grabbing a cup of coffee.
Every morning, for the past two years had been exactly the same. He talked about how horrible divorce was, he drank his coffee, read the newspaper and pretended like he wasn’t a giant fucking asshole.
I tried to avoid sex at all costs, no matter how hard I tried I could not get the vision of his tiny dick pumping into Cindy out of my head.
“Not tonight, James, I’m on my period.” I rolled over, staring out the window.
“I don’t mind, I think that would be really fun.” James grabbed at my waist.
“Don’t be disgusting.” I pushed his hands away.
“Well then I’m going to go MASTURBATE in the bathroom!” He kicked the covers off, and retreated to the bathroom.
“Use the fucking guest bathroom, I don’t want to hear you moaning!” I shouted.
The day Travis Warner moved in next door, I had already emptied my secret bank account, had three bags packed, and studio apartment paid for, first last and security.
I had most all my bags together, when my doorbell rang.
A stunning black man was standing on my porch. He was honestly the hottest man I had ever seen in my life.
“Hi there!” He extended his hand, “Travis Warner, I just moved in.” He pointed behind him, to the moving truck.
I tried to speak, but I couldn’t take my eyes off his body. He was dressed casually, clearly he had been moving heavy furniture because he was slightly sweaty.
Travis was well over six feet, his hands were large and surprisingly silky.
He was muscular in all the right places, I couldn’t help but stare at his body, wondering what he looked like without his clothes.
Travis looked past me to the bags stacked by the staircase. “You going on a trip? I’m sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt you just wanted to say hi and introduce myself.”
It took me a minute to realize he was referring to the suitcases behind me.
“No, uh, just doing some cleaning.” I smiled, wishing I was wearing something sexier.
“So are you here with your family?” I looked behind him, at the driveway expectantly.
“No, No, just me, I didn’t actually catch your name.”
I stuck my hand out again, excited for a reason to touch him, “Sorry, God, I’m a stupid woman, Krista, I’m Krista.”
“So wonderful to meet you Krista, so nice to have such beauty so close to me.”
I blushed so violently I was afraid I might start visibly sweating.
“You are so sweet, thank you, I’m actually, I am married.” I looked down, feeling ashamed, like James was something to be embarrassed of.
Travis let his eyes travel to my chest, “Lucky, man.” He winked, “Well I better finish unpacking, I look forward to seeing you around, Krista.” His was voice was so deep and smooth, I could have listened to him talk all day.
I stood at the sink, drinking coffee and watching him move all morning, forgetting my plan to leave James.
“Go upstairs and get yourself hard, I want to fuck tonight.” James was about to turn on the TV and zone out watching sports.
“What?” He looked at me amazed.
“Don’t make me repeat what I said, go, now.”
James got out of his chair so quickly he almost tripped over the ottoman.
“Can I watch porn to get myself..”
“I don’t give a flying fuck HOW you get hard, James, just do it.”
I fucked him on top that night. It was the first time in our entire marriage that, I was able to experience an ounce of pleasure. I pictured Travis’s hands on my body the entire time.
Mid way through using James as a dildo, I realized that my bedroom window looked almost directly into Travis’s bedroom. This realization made me ride James even harder, causing his little dick to cum so violently he screamed like a little girl.
“What has gotten in to you, Krista?” He asked, kissing my shoulder.
“Don’t touch me”, I pushed him off, “I need you to go sleep in the guest room, I want to stay up tonight and read.
“I think I like this new side of you,” he said, grabbing his robe, “ I think I am going to touch myself again thinking about you.”
“You will not touch yourself tonight, or ever again until I give you permission, do you understand?” I looked at him, narrowing my eyes, enjoying the look of panic that washed over his face.
“Wait, are you kidding?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” I waited for him to freak out and convince me to stop ordering him around, but he didn’t, he retreated like a little puppy to the guest room.
Feeling high from my new found power over James, I moved carefully to my bedroom window, watching Travis, move back and forth in his room. I had a front row seat to everything he was doing. Which meant that if he turned around he could see me watching.
I could tell that he was distracted by unpacking sheets and, trying to make his bed. He glanced over at my window, seeing me there, he smiled, and continued pulling the sheets tighter on his bed.
Ever so often he would glace over, and I continued standing there, in my robe, watching, smiling slightly.
He waved a little. I waved back. Feeling dumb, but still feeling confident, I loosened my robe, showing more of my cleavage. Travis stopped what he was doing, sitting down the bed, staring directly at me.
My heart skipped a few beats, having his complete attention.
I started back at him, wondering what would happen if I stood completely naked.
Instead I made a point of making sure he knew I was staring at him. I played with my robe, making my nipples hard, I pinched them through the satin.
Travis didn’t take his eyes off of me, I bit my lower lip, feeling ridiculously aroused.
I thought about getting naked, but figured it was a little too forward for the first night. I waved, once more, before closing the curtains.
Even behind the curtains I could still see Travis sitting on the bed, it took him a full five minutes before he stood up.
The next morning I couldn’t help but open the curtains as I got ready for the day. I didn’t see Travis, and that irritated me slightly. I slipped off my nightgown, standing in my bra and panties. I even moved directly in front of the window, and still I could not see him. Perhaps he was still sleeping.
I showered quickly, hearing James yell through the door. “Bye Krista, I’ll see you later?” He sounded pathetic, and I loved my new found power over him.
“Bye.” I called to him, wrapping my hair in a towel.
I had a plan for the day, and it did not involve planning my escape from James, but instead, to hook Travis.
The morning sunshine was unusually hot. I moved outside to our pool, laying a hot pink towel over the concrete. I mindlessly swam a few laps, getting in some much needed exercises and thinking of reasons why I should happen to drop by Travis’s house unannounced.
I glanced up at Travis’s window, squinting noticing some movement. With one hand I untied my bikini top, freeing my bouncy tits. Laying back I let the sun shine down on my nipples causing them to perk up.
I peeked through my sunglasses noticing Travis standing in the open window.
He seemed unfazed by my tits, “Good morning Krista.” His voice was so deep and smooth, it sent chills racing through my spine.
I pressed up, on my elbows, “Good morning Travis, enjoying the view?”
“I would love to show you exactly how much I am enjoying this view, but sadly I do not think the man I saw leaving your house this morning would enjoy it.
“What man?” I smiled coyly.
“Are you inviting me to your pool, Krista, because I would love to get you all wet.”
“Come get me Travis.”
I honestly had no idea where all my confidence was coming from, but honestly I felt like I was on fire with desire. James had been the only man in my life, and I was so close to leaving the relationship something ignited, I wanted to play with fire.
Travis made his way into my backyard, he had on bright blue swimmer trunks. His body was just as perfect as I thought it would be. His brown skin was shimmering, his abs rippled and contracted as he bent over to set down his water bottle.
I wanted to cover myself, but decided against it, he was certainly acting as if seeing my tits was not a big deal.
“How was your first night in your new house?” I asked, laying back on my towel.
“It was ok, a little lonely.” He adjusted his crotch. I could see the outline of his dick, flacid it was already bigger than anything I had ever seen.
“So judging by the ring on your finger, I am assuming you are married?”
I kept my eyes closed, “When I met you yesterday I was packing up to leave him.”
“Is that so?” Travis laughed softly.
“Yes, but I decided last night that controlling him is much easier.
“Are you a Dom, Krista?” Travis’s eyes gleamed.
I sat up, my boobs falling under my armpits, “I’m sorry, a what?”
“You get satisfaction from ordering little fuck boys around, making them do things for you, controlling their orgasms, making them buy you things, stuff like that.”
“I didn’t know it had a name, James seemed to like it, but at this point I really don’t care what he likes.”
“Said like a perfect Dominatrix, you should look into buying him a cage and locking up his little dick, then let me fuck you.” He looked over at me, expectantly.
I paused for a moment, thinking about James’s face after I demanded that he wear a cage. “That sounds like fun, I wonder how James would react, especially if I locked up his precious dick.”
Travis kneeled next to me, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear, “I’m not going to touch you, not until I get to fuck you into submission.
Shivers raced up my legs, my nipples were so erect I was certain they could cut glass.
“You don’t want to fuck me right here, right now?” I asked, feeling his breath hot on my skin.
He lightly touched my nipple, rubbing slowly, causing me to arch my back with pleasure.
No man had ever touched me like that before, James was always grabbing and groping. Up until this point I had never known how turned on I could actually get. Everything in my body screamed for Travis to touch me.
He laughed softly, tracing his fingers around my neck. “If I put my mouth on you, will you do what I say?”
It was impossible to deny him. Everything about him was different, he was so tender and calm. “Yes, please!” I moaned.
His head moved from my breast down my ribs, where he licked and lightly bit. I couldn’t help but squeal with delight, as he approached between my legs. He paused, lightly touching me over my bikini bottoms. Rubbing, pressing, watching me thrash with pleasure.
“Has James ever gone down on you?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.
“Has he made you cum with his mouth before?”
I honestly had no idea what he was talking about. I shook my head.
Travis grinned ear to ear. He pulled down my bikini bottoms, slowly, pausing only to spread my knees apart. “Lay back beautiful, let me show you what you have been missing.”
He kissed my inner thighs, so softly, It was impossible to relax, as soon as his mouth started kissing my pussy, a bolt of lightening surged through me. I yelped, grabbing his head.
“OH I think you like this,” he said, continuing to swirl his tongue. He looked up at me, loving the fact that I could not stop shaking. He gently sucked on my clit, slowly than harder, until I bucked and tensed so hard, I thought I could break through the concrete if I really tried.
“I’m going to..” my voice trailed off, as the wave of tingles rushed from my toes to my ears, flushing my body with endorphins.
Travis wiped his mouth, before kissing my stomach and breasts, sucking gingerly on each nipple before kissing my neck.
“Just think, I made you cum that hard with my mouth, think about what I can do with my cock.”
My pussy contracted from the heat of his breath in my ear. I could see how turned on he was, his cock was massive.
“Can I see it?” I asked reaching for the bulge in front of his bathing suit.
“Krista you can do more than see it.” He pulled out his dick, it sprang forward in a perfect arch. It was thick and had to be close to nine inches.
“I don’t think that is going to fit..” I looked at him nervously.
He spit in his hand, and lightly stroked it, moving up and down in perfect rhythm. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll get you good and wet, we will go nice and slow.”
I spread my legs wide, inviting him to try, “Fuck me now Travis, fill me with your big black cock.”
“Krista you don’t realize how much this is going to hurt, you can’t go from a tiny dick to me, I will basically be taking your virginity.”
“I want it.” I spread my pussy with my fingers, showing him how wet and ready I was to take all of his dick.
“You sure you don’t want to move to a bed, or some place a little more comfortable?”
I pulled him towards me, rubbing the head of his cock along my slit. “Make me scream, Travis.”
That was all he needed to hear. He tried to start out slow, pushing in just the tip of his pulsating cock, but I raised my hips quickly, causing him to plunged inside me. He was only halfway in and it hurt. I winced. “Ow, ow,” I pressed my hands to his stomach trying to push him out.
“Relax baby, breathe.” He leaned over me, kissing my neck, and gently started fucking me. With each thrust he got deeper and deeper, before I knew it we were in synch he was so deep and my pussy was wrapped so tightly around him he struggled to maintain his control.
“Krist, Krista, I’m going to cum all over your little pussy.”
I dug my fingernails into his back, letting him fuck me as hard as he wanted, enjoying the pain, and the pleasure.
Suddenly he pulled out his cock, jerked it quickly, and shot a hot load of cum all over my pussy and stomach. He groaned so loudly, birds flew from the trees.
I looked down at my cum covered pussy, noticing a little bit of blood on the towel.
“Oh my god, why am I bleeding?” I squeezed my knees together.
“Baby, I think I just took your real virginity,” he kissed me on my forehead before pulling on his bathing suit bottoms.
“Fuck, that is going to be great to throw in James’s face.” I laughed before diving into the pool.
“ I can’t wait to do that in front of him.” I smiled at Travis, who winked at me in agreement.
Finding a cock cage, was surprisingly easy. Several sites sold a variety of styles. I had no idea what I was looking for, but found looking at the different shapes and materials offered that I started to get very aroused.
I purchased a metal cage, with a large heart lock. I made sure to order an extra small, so that I could add in more humiliation. I read that some men really got off on being teased about their small penis. I assumed that James was aware of his tiny dick, and I planned on highlighting it with the size of the cock cage. For some reason reading the other people’s reviews was intriguing. One man posted a link to a site that sold over sized dog cages. He explained that he enjoyed being locked inside it while his wife fucked several guys at once. I clicked on the link, and browsed the dog cages. I pictured James on all fours in the cage, being forced to watch Travis fuck me up against it. I couldn’t figure out why my panties were soaked, but something about the visual ignited a fire deep within me. I moved the “extra large dog crate” into my shopping cart, not even flinching at the two hundred dollar charge. I went ahead and purchased a black latex one piece suit, black lace up boots, handcuffs and a ball gag for him. If I was going to be a Domme then I needed to dress the part. I quickly sent a few of the links to Travis’s phone, setting a date for him to come over. My pussy tightened at the thought of him fucking me again, the thought of James being forced to watch was even more exciting. Travis responded almost immediately. Looks amazing, can’t wait.
Click here for Part 2
About the Author:
Katie is a 34 year old writer and adult performer. As far as kink goes she considers herself a Domme She likes to write about pegging and CEI since these are both her fetishes.
https://www.patreon.com/
www.kittykatryan.com << This is where you can find her adult videos
Techniques For Slave Training
Hello everyone! In my last article, I talked about the benefits of training and healthy ways to achieve a successful training outcome.
In this article, I would like to talk about specific training techniques.
The first technique I would like to talk about is Classical Conditioning. Classical conditioning involves a stimulus being trained to evoke a specific response from the s type. A well-known example of this type of conditioning would be Pavlov’s dog. If you are unfamiliar with this reference, I highly recommend googling it.
For this technique to work, the D type must work with the s type to pair a preferred response with a chosen stimulus/object/action. For example, my Master has trained me to say “Master loves me and everything is okay” when he places his hand on my cheek. This is used when my Master wants me to calm down and/or to reduce my anxiety.
As you can see from this example, classical conditioning can be used to shorten response times, can be used to help someone in the dynamic in a positive way, and can take the conscious thinking out of the equation for the s type. When my Master puts his hand on my cheek, I do not even have to think about my response. It just comes out at this point. It has been thoroughly ingrained in me.
This method can also be used to let the s type know they did something that displeases you. For example, the D type could train the s type to know that when the D type snaps their fingers that means the s type did something wrong and must go to the corner to wait for further instruction. Classical conditioning can also be used to get the s type wet and/or ready for sex or play. There is really no limit to what it can be used for. Essentially, it can be used as a way to speed up the response time for whatever response the D type wants the s type to exhibit.
However, even though the end result can speed up the desired response, training one to achieve the desired outcome does take time, work, and patience, just like any other training method and process.
There is no set time-frame as to when classical conditioning can/will occur. I can tell you it does take some time before the brain subconsciously pairs a stimulus with a specific response.
Any type of stimulus can be used as well- smells, tastes, sensations, actions, objects, etc. The possibilities really are endless. It just has to be something that the s type will recognize easily and without question.
The stimulus should also not be something the s type experiences in everyday life. The stimulus should be something that the D type has a considerable amount of control over. You want to be the only or nearly the only one that can give/gives the s type the stimulus. The more control you have over the stimulus and when it is given to the s type, the more effective classical conditioning will be.
Now I would like to talk about another method called Operant Conditioning. This is basically a punishment/reward system that one could use during training.
It’s a way for the D type to encourage and maintain desired behaviors and discourage unwanted behaviors.
If you want to maintain or increase a behavior one could use reinforcement. Positive reinforcement would be giving something pleasant or desired to the s type.
Negative reinforcement would be removing something aversive.
If you want to decrease a certain behavior one could use punishment. Positive punishment would be giving the s type something aversive/undesirable. Negative punishment would be removing something pleasant or desired.
For example, positive reinforcement would be giving an s type ice cream if they like ice cream. Negative reinforcement would be taking a way doing a chore if the s type does not like doing chores. Positive punishment would be giving an s type a chore. Negative punishment would be taking a way ice cream.
Please note, it is always important to be consistent, fair, and just when using punishment/reward as well as anything a D type does.
The punishment and reward must fit what occurred. It’s important for D types to reward and punish when they are calm and well-collected because heightened negative and positive emotions can skew the punishment and reward giving process. Also, punishments should never cross any hard limits or put the s type in any danger.
The next technique I would like to talk about is Extinction. This is essentially ignoring unwanted behaviors.This can be highly effective especially if the s type’s motive for doing something is getting attention. If the s type learns that by doing said behavior they are not going to get the reward they seek, chances are they are not going to exhibit said behavior as much, and may stop doing said behavior all together.
Modeling or showing an s type step by step how something should be done can also be beneficial. This can be very effective with kinesthetic learners if the D type shows a step and then expects the s type to copy them. Physical and verbal cues can help as well. There is nothing wrong with giving your s type cues, especially at the beginning of training. You can also correct the s type as you see fit throughout the training process. People forget things and sometimes people need small reminders here and there. S types are no different.There can be a difference between willful disobedience and needing a correction. Some D types do not punish for minor corrections as long as it wasn’t due to willful disobedience.
The last technique I would like to talk to is Differential Reinforcement. DR focuses on giving positive reinforcement for a decrease in the undesired behavior, substitution of a preferred behavior, an increase in behaviors that prevent the undesired behavior, and absence of the undesired behavior.
This method allows one to be rewarded for progress.It allows for a lot of encouragement as the s type is trying to reach the set goal.
There is so much more I could say about these topics. Training can be much more complex than I am making it seem in this article. I am just trying to provide a brief overview of these techniques with the hope that others will ask questions, and do their own research to further their understanding.
It takes a lot of various resources, time, flexibility, patience, trial/error, communication, attentiveness, and mindfulness to train another person. Adults have already been conditioned by their childhood and their past experiences. It is a huge undertaking for a D type/Master to condition an s type contrary to what the s type already is doing and exhibiting. However, it can be done. It might just take going back to the drawing board a few times and/or using multiple techniques simultaneously and/or throughout the training process.
It should be noted though that training SHOULD NEVER cross an s type’s hard limits or put them in harm’s way-physically, emotionally, or mentally. An s type’s own timing should be considered and they should not be asked to do something or train on something that would be unhealthy for them.Training can be challenging for the s type, but it has to be something that the s type can realistically and healthily take on and consents to taking on.
As always, feel free to ask questions and leave comments. Thanks for reading and stay tuned!
About the Author:
Slave Bunny, a 1950’s power slave, is involved in a wonderful and loving TPE 24/7 M/S relationship with her Master and husband. She is also the Creative Director of Kink Weekly.
She has dedicated her life to working on herself mentally, spiritually, and physically, and hopes to inspire others to do the same. Through teaching and mentoring, she hopes to help everyone in the Kink community as much as she can.
Feel free to add her on Fetlife (Slave_Bunny992) to see her upcoming workshops and classes.
Pro Dommes at DomCon LA
With Mistress Cyan’s DomConLA coming up this week, it might be time to discuss the growing number of Pro Dommes in our community. Of course, as the popularity of DomCon has exploded over the years, it is not only for Dommes anymore. There are people attending from every part of the BDSM spectrum. That is what makes it fun. Still, the most obvious BDSMers are the Dommes, both pro and lifestyle – after all, who can ignore latex clad Dommes in their nine inch stiletto heels?!!! In this article, I will concentrate on the Pro Dommes, as they are making their presence known on all social media – especially Twitter.
Pro Dommes. Now here is a BDSM subject that is rarely written about. Yet, professional Dommes and bondage go together like chocolate chips and ice cream. Just go to any lifestyle convention – like DomCon in both Los Angeles and New Orleans — and you will see more pro Dommes than you can shake a stick (or cane) at. Not only are pro Dommes plentiful, but – given their sexsational outfits – they are among the most flamboyant and hot members of our community. And they are one part of our community that keeps many D/s protocols alive. If we had to depend on the Fifty Shades people…need I say more?
The reason for this article isn’t to hawk the wares of pro Dommes (they do a fine job, thank you), but rather to spotlight another service other than just giving a sub a beating he/she can’t get conveniently at home. (Although this is a rather popular aspect of pro Dommery!)
I am often asked, “How does one learn about BDSM play?” Obviously, reading the articles on kinkweekly.com, going to a commercial dungeon, being mentored and talking to people in the lifestyle are the best ways. There is, however, another often overlooked approach to “learning the ropes” – going to a pro Domme. Let me explain.
Let’s say you are a newbie Dom and sub. By hiring a pro Domme, you can see exactly how a professional Top uses the tools of torment in a safe and controlled environment; you can learn how to properly scene by experiencing it upfront and personal.
I recommend you only hire a professional who works out of a reputable dungeon, or one with references or one you connect with at DomConLA! One advantage of a convention is that there are many Dommes to choose from and you can meet them face-to-face. You can also ask lots of questions – and asking questions is the best way to get an understanding of any subject.
Working with a pro Domme is not only a unique — and fun — way of learning for a beginner, but it can also work for the more advanced player. As every Dominatrix has a specialty, you can hire one who is an expert in an advanced area – such as edge play – that you want to learn. I personally know a Master who learned needle play from a pro Domme. You do not have to become the Pro Domme’s submissive to hire her; you can pay for her time just to learn. Just ask and you will find out if this arrangement is acceptable.
If you are wondering why I say pro Domme and not pro Dom, it is because there are not a lot of pro Doms floating around. Sorry guys, the fantasy of making a living by spanking women for a fee is a hard one to fulfill. And, though there are a few professional Doms around (many are riggers for BDSM photo shoots), most dungeons specialize in pro Dommes. Such is life.
This is but a small preview of DomConLA – and in it I offered a new way to approach Pro Dommes to expand your BDSM experience. Obviously, not every Pro Domme will agree to be a “mentor for hire.” But as I said in last week’s article, “One size does not fit all.”
I might add an invitation: if you are attending DomConLA this week, I will be hosting a panel discussion (shameless plug) on “Are We All Switches?” at the convention next Saturday at 6 PM.
It is a live extension of my kinkweekly.com article of the same name. In it I opened:
“I think that, in our modern society, it is nearly impossible for anyone to be Dominant 24/7. For example, many Dom/mes work for corporations and thus – unless they own the firm – have a boss. When Dominants, no matter how Toppy, are told at the DMV, “Go to this line,” chances are they will comply. Get a call from the IRS, they will jump like a submissive hit with a single tail. Get stopped by a cop for a ticket, who becomes submissive? Thus, most Dom/mes, whether they admit it or not, have “submissive events” in their lives.”
Join the discussion. It should be informative, entertaining and fun!
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.
This week in kink, April 30, 2018
Former Dominatrix, Kasia Urbaniak, opens a school in NYC in order to empower individuals using what she learned as a Dominatrix. Click here to read more about her school.
6 of the Most Common Sexual Fantasies (according to sex therapists) among men and women. Click here to read more.
Learn more about HuCow, the Fetish that imagines women as cows. Click here to find out more.
Blacksmith saves business by making awesome BDSM contraptions and kinky toys. Click here to read more about his work.
Have some kinky news to share? Tell us about any upcoming BDSM events, new products, dungeon openings / closings, collarings, kink in mainstream media, and anything else you think kinky folks might be interested to hear about. Send your tips through to news@kinkweekly.com, and it might just end up on next week’s “This Week in Kink”
One Size Does Not Fit All
I think one thing we can all agree on, whether beginner or experienced, is that the “one size fits all” approach to BDSM doesn’t work. Sorry to say, there is no universal way to do BDSM. (That would be too robotic anyway.) Each person has his/her own needs; the way people interact with one another is totally unpredictable. As it would be impossible to look at different personal approaches, let’s examine “one size doesn’t fit all” from a technical or play point of view. This article will be addressed to the Dom/mes, as they control the action. (Although submissives are welcome to eavesdrop!)
First, let’s examine the different ways a submissive reacts to pain. It varies by implement; by the way the toy is used and the sub’s reaction to the Top him/herself. (For example, if the sub trusts the Dom/me, he/she will take more pain, can probably go into subspace more easily and the scene will be more pleasurable.) Some subs need a lot of warm-up, some a light warm-up and others don’t need or want any warm-up at all. My sub prefers a warm-up when being flogged, but no warm-up before being hand spanked. Every submissive is different — and his/her response to a given “tool-of-torment” will vary day-to-day, mood-to-mood and setting-to-setting. What works on Wednesday will not necessarily work on Thursday.
I have heard, from Dom/mes, “I cannot believe I couldn’t put her/him into subspace. I used the same technique I always have!” This actually should be the common observation, not the rare one. Nevertheless, once the Dom/me has encountered situations where their “auto-pilot” stops working, it is time to turn it off and change the approach.
How does one figure out the best way to play with a sub who is not responding to your tried-and-true methods? I would say listening is the best answer. There is an old salesman’s adage that says, “The customer will tell you exactly how to sell him/her. Just shut-up and listen.” Similarly, the submissive will usually provide a roadmap to success for the attentive Dominant.
By simply listening, you can discover those areas that the submissive finds conducive to a successful session. For example, if the sub says he/she is a newbie and is scared of playing in public, don’t insist on it – at least not until the sub feels comfortable doing a public scene. When asked, the more experienced subs will tell you just about everything. They will tell you whether they prefer rattan or acrylic canes; whether they hate flogging on the back or love it. Neoprene floggers, stingy floggers, thuddy ones – subs are only too glad to tell you their preferences. They are effusive when explaining what gets them into sub-space and what kind of warm-ups they like. If you have questions, they have answers. This is not “topping from the bottom.” (Although if it happens during a scene, it might qualify as “topping from the bottom.”) We are talking about pre-scene negotiation here.
Obviously, identifying soft and hard limits is essential; just relying on a safe word is not the best way to go. This goes without saying. (Then why is BaadMaster saying it? Hmmmm!) Again, you can find this information out by…asking! It is as simple as that.
Finally, no matter how experienced any submissive is, it is up to the Dominant to make the sub feel as comfortable and trusting as possible. And, the amount of trust a submissive gives the Dominant varies from submissive to submissive. So, to coin an article title, “one size does not fit all.” If you keep this in mind, listen intently to what the submissive tells you and understand that trust is not granted immediately and is earned, you will find your scenes will be awesome!
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.