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Fear, Trust, and Finding Your Rhythm As A Top/Dominant

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Fear is a healthy reaction to the unknown. The right amount keeps us form going overboard. Too much keeps us from experiencing things, and we miss out. It does not matter if it is stepping on a roller coaster, getting in the car for the NASCAR experience, performing a caning, or rigging your first suspension. Fear is the dividing line between what we can do now, and what we can achieve.

Regular posts from bottoms/submissives appear on the boards asking how to help their tops/dominants get over the anxiety of causing pain and potential injury. Sometimes posts from new tops/dominants, asking for help so they can give their submissive what is needed or desired. Fear holds those dominants back. Fear of themselves, fear of causing harm, uncertainty in skill, and possibly not understanding trust during play, not just the dynamic, is a two-way street.

Trust in a Scene is a Two-Way Street

One of the tallest mountains a top/dominant can climb, is learning how to trust their bottom/submissive during a scene. Sure, we trust them to say when they are having a hard day, not hiding medical problems, or if they are not in good head space. That kind of trust is easier to understand because we have been practicing it our whole lives. That of a good partnership and friend. In play the bottom/submissive is placing their safety and possibly life in the top’s/dominant’s hands, and they are asking us to let go. To give in to some of our baser instincts which society has trained out of us. To be demanding, to be rough; not just to give, but to TAKE. It can be, and is, awe inspiring and overwhelming all in the same breath.

Learning to trust the bottom/submissive to say when too much, is too much. Pain does not always mean harm, injury, or lasting damage. Some bottoms/submissives crave pain, others may like it mixed in with sensual play. You may be a top/dominant who enjoys delivering pain. Let your submissive help guide you on what works and what does not for them. Take your time to study and learn from others how to play safely without causing harm. All the aforementioned cannot come just from the top/dominant, a book, or even a mentor – but must include communication with and information gained from our bottom/submissive.

Fear is about Me…..not We. Changing Mindset.

Being stuck in the mindset of fear, is all about the individual, not the partnership. The ego saying the top/dominant is supposed to know better, supposed to have all the answers, must make all the decisions. Which leads to, “I am afraid of…… I don’t know how…. I don’t know when… what if I fail,”….etc. versus, “we will experience…. we will find the edges….. we will learn….. together.” Tops/dominants are expected to take on a lot of responsibility, to learn, become proficient, and to lead. The mistake is thinking it can be done in a bubble. Trust your bottom/submissive and their feedback to help shed light where it is hard to see.

“I don’t know my own strength,” or something similar is heard commonly. Expressing a reserve from pushing their own boundaries, let alone that of a bottom/submissive. So what? As tops/dominants we do not need to understand our own strength nearly as much as we do the strength of our bottoms/submissives. Work with them so you know if you can go harder or need to be softer. Physically and mentally.

Finding the mindset to balance the fear is a must. The place in the mind which allows acceptance of the bottom’s/submisssive’s trust and trusting them in return. Leveraging that trust to move past the abstract chains keeping a top/dominant from walking forward into the unknown. Embrace the uncertainty as it will always be there to one degree or another. But lean on trust so experiences are not missed, and the desires of both partners can be fulfilled. To learn as tops/dominants, we are not doing something TO our submissive, we are experiencing something WITH them. We are not causing pain, but delivering sensation which is desired and even craved.

Don’t Just Guess

“I’m not sure what to do….,” Ask. Ask your submissive what they are willing to try. Use imagination when designing play. Trust that when a submissive says, yes, they mean it. Whether subscribing to SSC, RACK, PRICK or the half dozen other paradigms regarding safety in play, having faith in each other, communication and consent are at the heart of all of them. Take time to thoroughly research a kink or aspect of play together before doing it. When the research is done, plans are made, and consent has been given…. accept bottoms/submissives have their own minds, and are making a decision to TRUST you…..so trust them.

“They want me to really go rough with them, but I’m afraid of hurting them…,” Well they are not, or they would not be asking for it. They may want the rush of adrenaline and the high which comes from play. The deep bond which can come from enduring and feeling in ways not normally felt. It can be done without damaging them or causing serious injury. It takes time, practice, research, patience, and seeking their feedback.

Have a Process

When I work with a new bottom or submissive, even if they are experienced, I take it slowly. Everything is discussed beforehand. Not just about the play itself, but what implements will be used; how I will be communicating with them; warning signs and signals; safe words; where the first aid kit will be located etc.

Warming up in the scene; checking in with them throughout asking where their comfort level is; 1 to 10. Watching how they act and react to different implements, how they are used, or different strikes on parts of their body. Both of us learning each other as we go. We do not have to know it all right out of the gate. We do need to have a plan, be focused, and pay attention.

After the scene, sometimes the next day, I will recap the scene with them; ask them what they did and did not like; what went well and what did not; If something was too much or too little; is something they want more of. The point being, with someone new, or as a new top/dominant, we have not learned to read our bottom/submissive yet. This is an opportunity to gain their input and learn.

As time progresses and with becoming more experienced, we will be able to read body language better and see the cues the bottom/submissive gives. Patience, practice, and listening to the bottom/submissive will help get a us to where we need to be. This does not take the place of good communication, but augments it allowing the scene to be more organic.

Finding a Rhythm

“I really like flogging, but am I doing it right?” Whatever it is, it rarely gets done right the first time, or even the first ten times. I can cane one submissive one way….. and for another it just does not work for them. It is as much art as it is science. The physical techniques will only get you part of the way. Learning what works for you and a particular bottom/submissive is the art. Some require a soft warm up, others prefer a hard shock to get them focused before warming and building into play. This is a process which requires the participation of both the parties. Don’t be afraid to experiment WITH them.

If you stick with it long enough you will learn your bottom/submissive. Just like playing poker, everyone has tells. Reading them becomes part of that experience. Eventually play/scenes become a dance where only the two of you can hear and understand the music. Talking through things is still important, but you will find the rhythm between the two of you that works.

Putting it All Together

Learning yourself and your bottom/submissive; learning more about the kinks that are of interest; and learning to let go of the fear. These become part of the building blocks for you to begin letting go and truly trusting your partner.

Trust is the daylight which pushes back the boundaries of fear. Trust in your bottom/submissive will pay off in your own self confidence because it frees you to be who you are. It is ok to be anxious when pushing forward into unknown territory. Just realize you are not doing it alone, but with your partner. Trust them, and they will trust you.

TAC is a lifestyle writer, dominant, and mentor who contributes to several online educational groups such as the BDSM Alternative Lifestyle Discussion and Education; Information Exchange for Dom/mes, Masters, and Mistresses; and the Virtual Munch. His writing includes information on self-improvement, growth, dominance, trauma, power dynamics and power exchange, and safety. His goal is to continue giving back to a community of friends who have supported him for nearly three decades. He can be found on Fetlife at TAC_1.

How To Show Off Your Submissive

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By now, most of us are tired of the covid world we are living in. And this is especially true in the BDSM world of closed dungeons, social distancing, mask wearing and “this will be over soon” media pronouncements. Well, I have good news for you. From now on, I will be “writing for the future” with little pandemic pandering. With this in mind, this week’s question is about exhibitionism – a BDSM activity that really took a huge hit in this frustrating world but will soon be making a “comeback”. And since these questions come from my “query vault,” I can pick those that address tomorrow’s issues, not today’s. Can I hear some applause?! So, here is the question:

Reader: I love to show-off my slave, and I really like being kinky in public. I’d like to explore new ways to enjoy D/s with an audience. Do you have any suggestions?

Exhibitionism can be divided into two categories. The first one is what I call “controlled” exhibitionism. Here you show off your slave to your own group of fellow BDSM pervs. Typically, this is done at play parties, usually in private homes or at members-only dungeons – such as the legendary Lair de Sade in Los Angeles. There are clubs of this type in many major U.S. cities. This is probably the easiest and safest way to explore your interest in exhibitionism in a controlled environment. For not only is there a built-in audience, but there is also no worry about “pain-in-the-ass innocent bystanders.” (A quote for the Godfather fans among you.) These clubs usually have many stations with BDSM equipment and even stages for you to show off your slave. You can get as kinky as the house rules – and local laws – allow. And your exhibitionism does not have to involve scening. Outrageous states of undress are embraced here. So if you want your slave half naked, three quarters naked or totally naked, by all mean go for it! As every good exhibitionist needs voyeurs to enjoy the show, where better to find a group of voyeurs than at a dungeon party? The beauty is that here you can start slowly and learn about your slave and what type of exhibitionism turns both of you on. Do you like your slave in fetish clothes, various states of undress, or led around by a collar and chain? Do you like to torture your slave in public? What does your slave enjoy or detest? The dungeon gives you a great environment to experiment, replete with an appreciative audience. You can also get great ideas from fellow showoffs here – which will improve your exhibitionist skills. All in a safe, user-friendly environment.

The second category of exhibitionism is what I call “public exhibitionism.” Here the audience is the public at large. I think that part of the appeal of this edgy practice comes from its danger. And dangerous it is. Some jurisdictions take “indecent exposure,” as they call it in the legal system, pretty seriously. Fines, jail time and community service can be a consequence of being caught. In this game there are many levels – from beginner to advanced! Quick flashing can be considered an entry-level type of exhibitionism. I would have your slave dress in such a way (if female, no panties under the skirt while kilts work for a male sub) so you conveniently “flash and dash.” (I like that term. It’s a keeper!) Advanced exhibitionism would probably encompass public sex. Here it gets a little risky. It takes planning and keen observational skills to get away with public sex if that is where you want to take this. I personally had public sex at a BDSM social at Sportsman’s Lodge – and it was awesome. Since you say you want an audience, this area of exhibitionism should be approached with utmost caution. If children and policemen just happen to be unwitting witnesses as you have sex in a glass-enclosed elevator, you might have big problems! People into this type of exhibitionism take precautions so as not to get caught. Be careful.

One important omission – your query does not mention your slave’s preferences. You should always take his/her preferences into account before you delve into exhibitionism – whether semi-private or totally public. This ensures a great performance.

Exhibitionism has the widest range of just about any fetish out there. With this in mind, the only boundaries are your imagination and what type of exhibitionism you are into. And, most importantly, let’s not forget to discuss limits here. Your question asks, “I love to show-off my slave, and I really like being kinky in public,” with little mention of your slave’s hard limits. You should be aware of these limits beforehand. If you are combining BDSM play with exhibitionism, safe words and safe signals must be integral to the scene. I’ll be watching!

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.

Do You Need to Earn the Right to Submit?

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

I got a note this morning from a dominant friend of mine, sharing the frustrations she, and many  dominant women, have when taking on new subs. Her question was whether subs should have to prove  themselves to be worthy of being allowed to submit, or be put in a position of submission and then  prove their ability within the role. 

From my days in management (outside of D/s dynamics), I can tell you that, most of the time, people  prove their ability to do a higher-level job before they’re assigned to it. It is a much less frequent  practice to give someone a “chance to succeed” at a position. It’s done…but not nearly as often. This is  usually because positions are often coveted and highly competitive and there’s no need to take the risk  associated with having the wrong person in a position of responsibility.  

If I take the analogy back to D/s dynamics, the reasons for qualifying an individual before allowing them  to submit to you, boil down to the risks associated with them not being able to perform as expected.  What are the risks associated with taking a chance on a submissive?  

The risks boil down to the amount of work that will end up on the dominant. The downside puts the  dominant to the task of identifying flaws in the sub’s efforts, determining how to communicate and  correct them, and then following up to make sure the corrections are made. Even worse, they may find  themselves needing to “motivate” the submissive…to create the energy to get them to serve. They can  easily then lose confidence that the submissive will perform other tasks to the level of performance  that’s acceptable and need to make constant judgements regarding whether to trust a submissive with a  particular task, or not. 

As those of you who have read my books and other posts and essays know, I’m a firm believer that  having a submissive makes my life EASIER. If having a submissive makes my life more complicated, gives  me less time to do what I want to do, or forces me to do things I don’t want to do, then something is very wrong. 

My friend brought up the point that often submissives want to be given the position and then be  ‘trained’. The whole “Training” thing is something I’m particularly against. I don’t train my submissives,  but I do educate them. I want them to understand my preferences and expectations and to internalize  them, so that they become their own. When they act, they act in concert with fulfilling those expectations. 

A quick web lookup on the differences between training and educating highlights this well: 

Training refers to an act of inculcating specific skills in a person. Education is all  about gaining theoretical knowledge in the classroom or any institution. Training is a way to develop specific skills, whereas education is a typical system of learning.

I am all for communicating to a submissive and teaching them general terms of how to be my  submissive, but I’m not interested training them like an animal. The skills they need to serve me, they  either come to the table with – or are able to develop based on their understanding of the objective and  their ability to learn. 

So, no…I’m not going to pick a submissive and try to train them to serve me. They’re going to have  opportunity to prove they’re a good learner and have the ability to apply general principles to develop specific skills. 

Does a prospective submissive possess the intelligence, empathy, awareness, self-awareness,  dedication, and energy needed to be good at it? That seems to me to be an awful lot to expect to just  blossom in front of you. Sure, it’s possible – but are you willing to put up with the effort required to  discover it can’t? 

For me, I would rather get to know a prospective submissive before allowing them to submit to me.  During that time, I’m assessing a lot about their personality, their real interests, their ability to be  dominant-centric, and their intelligence. I’m qualifying them to be a submissive, not based on any  particular skill, but rather based on the qualities that make learning happen. Are they going to be a good  student? Are they driven by a passion to serve? Are they going to be able to exhibit the self-control to  maintain their dedication – without burdening me with the need to force, or enforce, it? 

Therefore, from my viewpoint, you don’t get to submit and then prove you can do it. You also don’t  prove you can submit – you exhibit your natural abilities to learn and adapt and you exhibit your internal  desire to serve. You show me why, in particular, you want to serve ME – and not just any woman. Then,  I can feel comfortable with the discussion that leads to your submission. 

I would love to hear your opinions! 

Overcoming Obstacles to General Acceptance Requires Focus on the D/s in BDSM

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

I am confident that there will come a time, when relationships with power dynamics will be commonly  accepted in our culture. We are already seeing signs of it in popular media: BDSM has become a bit  more “mainstream”; moving beyond its presence in fashion and showing up in more real ways. Power  dynamics are plots and sub-plots in the shows we view at home, in the movie theaters, and in books. 

BDSM is arriving, but not “all of it”. B&D and S&M are being depicted, but D/s is lagging far behind! In  many ways, it’s easier to depict BDSM without D/s. It’s relatively easy to have actors “do things to each  other” than to pull off the deeper character development needed to portray a committed D/s dynamic  convincingly and so, for impact value, ease of production, and perhaps out of lack of understanding,  media has embraced S&M and B&D and foregone the emotional commitment of D/s. 

This creates some issues, not the least of which is that the imagery of B&D and S&M, particularly as  portrayed within the media, is very closely aligned with the imagery of abuse, biker-outlaws, Nazism,  and psychotics! As someone who just wants to engage in consensual healthy power dynamics, this is quite troublesome. 

As I’ve pointed out previously, power dynamics in media, which is a critical first step in acceptance in  culture, is in its infancy. We are barely beginning to be introduced to characters of substance, who have a healthy interest in D/s; who do not have to be damaged by childhood trauma, or psychotic drive as an  excuse to enjoy open power exchange. Only barely…for most of the characters still suffer from some  aspect of that excuse, or are portrayed as comedic shills – wild, out-there characters who will push any  norm. We have not yet seen a character within a power dynamic, who does not require a “reason” for  being involved in it. It is not “normal” yet – and therefore needs an explanation to be believable. 

This is going to change. Much the way interracial relationships used to be verboten – then accepted with  excuse – and now presented everywhere, without calling any attention to itself; power dynamics will  eventually be portrayed as a matter of course – a sub-text – and nothing out of the ordinary. We will  eventually relate to the characters in such a way that they will be able to accept their interests without  need for explanation. We will get to the point where we won’t need to understand Joe and Mary’s  childhood experiences to accept that they are a happily married couple – and Mary chooses to serve Joe  as his submissive”. We’ll just accept that and be focused on the real plot of the show. 

I hope to live long enough to see the day…but I do believe it WILL happen. 

What are the obstacles standing in the way of making this happen? The first problem to overcome is to  establish that people can choose to be dominant or submissive without it reflecting a weakness or a flaw  in their character. We still seem to need an explanation – a reason why someone would want to stray from the perceived norm. The assumption is that there HAS to be something lacking or damaged in the personalities. 

There is a learned resistance to power dynamics that stems from society’s proactive attempts to  criminalize abuse. Due to the abolition of slavery, the emancipation of women, and the movement  against discrimination of all types – there is an overarching sensitivity to repression and imbalance. We  naturally want to repel any unfairness. However, conflating consensual power dynamics with these  examples of non-consensual abuse is misleading, and harmful.  

Even once we can clarify the difference between consensual power dynamics and non-consensual  abuse, there are still other obstacles to overcome. Gender bias very much sways acceptance. The  generalization is that men tend to be dominant and women tend to be submissive. Intellectually, we  know how wrong that stereotype is. It has been a high obstacle for rebellion in women’s rights activists  who have had to fight it. Even though our young generations are being raised without that assumption,  it’s still present and impacts the way media portrays the dynamics. 

If I were to present a show where Joe is Mary’s master, the audience would accept the premise. Of  course, the feminist mentality in all of us would challenge the producers with claims that the  relationship is setting back women’s independence by many years and there would be flack for allowing  the stereotype to be perpetuated, but no one would challenge the nature of the arrangement. The  audience would never challenge why Joe wants to be the dominant. They would even accept that Mary  is submissive. Dominance=masculinity…submission=femininity. 

But turn it around: Joe is Mary’s submissive. Suddenly, the audience will seek to find a rationale: WHY  does he want to be submissive? What is lacking from his masculinity? Is he “pussy-whipped”? Is he a  “mama’s boy” or Is he compensating for some childhood trauma? Is he looking for a release from the pressures of his otherwise dominant life? Furthermore, why would Mary want to be dominant? Is she a  radical feminist? Does she hate men? The audience will struggle figure out what’s driving these two to  make such a diversion. It’s viewed as “Role-Reversal” because the popular beliefs have been challenged. Gender bias is a huge obstacle. 

It’s also interesting that BDSM submission seems easier for the public to accept than dominance.  Dominance is viewed as the one “doing the doing”. This is the BDSM-mentality of doing things TO the  submissive. That’s the imagery. Under this assumption, people will “excuse” a submissive, by attributing  their acceptance as weakness in the presence of the power and persuasion of a determined dominant.  But the motivations of a dominant are immediately suspect and have no excuse. They are evil, power hungry Bond-villains, out to take over the world. They are psychotic sadists, who have to hurt to be whole. 

How does this change? How do we find BDSM relationships to be acceptable regardless of gender, and  be brought out from behind closed doors? How do we get to a point where submission and dominance are equally acceptable? 

I believe that a focus on D/s as the primary motivation for a couple, without the necessity of the imagery  of S&M and B&D, will begin to bridge acceptance. Establishing an emotional bond between two partners  in which one chooses to serve the other, will be more easily digested by the public. Most people have  felt the desire to serve another and most people will accept that allowing someone to serve you (who WANTS to serve you) can be a natural response. Most people will accept that you don’t have to be  psychotic to feel and desire consensual power dynamics. 

As we all know, B&D and S&M are OPTIONAL ACTIVITIES in a relationship with D/s power dynamics.  They are elected within the context of the power agreement. They will likely not be the only activities.  Portray this in the media, even though it’s much harder to do, and we will see a change in perception  and acceptance. Once the emotional bond is established in the minds of the viewers, they will accept it  as the motivation for any physical bondage that follows. So long as the D/s is the primary motivation,  the practices of B&D and S&M will be more readily acceptable and the public will not be dreaming up  more destructive rationale for the actions. And if they are not present at all, more people will be  exposed to, and understand, pure D/s dynamics…that can’t be a bad thing! 

Ms. Rika is a lifestyle dominant, educator, and author; living in the suburbs of NYC with her  husband/slave. She has written several popular books on her approach to adding Dominant-Centric,  Service-Oriented D/s to relationships. You can find her books (in both print and eBook formats) at  Lulu.com (http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/msrika), or at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, the iStore, Books-A Million, Kobo.com, or anywhere books are sold. Search for “Ms. Rika”. Write to me at  Ms_Rika@hotmail.com

Last But Not Least…

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It had been hours since the night had begun. Her head was bowed ad her eyes closed. Did she know she was a fairy?  A mess of amber waves sprung from her head. I imagined it all pulled back for a day job in a downtown office tower. A curvy goddess disguised and contained in a white blouse and black pencil skirt every day. And when the moon was waning, the goddess emerged. 

“She is fucking ethereal,” I commented to no one in particular. I watched the others as they cheered and jeered at Beanpole’s performance. It was the strangest thing all of a sudden. I could smell food. At the bottom of the stairs was a small table with a selection of vegetables, fruit an assortment of hor d’oeuvres. I had to contain my urge to laugh here. I was in the middle of an erotic rollercoaster, watching things unfold, and there were snacks. Was the plan to stop and have a break before the final slave was auctioned for the evening. It struck me as odd that no one else seemed to notice that food had appeared. On the far wall, she stood and fidgeted, stretching her feet as though she was about to go up onto her toes. She was utterly indifferent to the funky music and dancing Sissy just six feet away from her. It seemed like she was separate somehow in a world all her own unaffected by the evening events. She didn’t look around the room, hoping to catch anyone’s eye. She didn’t play with her clothing or flick nervously with her fingers. Her makeup was still creating a mask and holding her most authentic self behind shiny blushed cheeks, long eyelashes and rosy lips. Her skin tone was muted, and she grabbed the last sun-kissed freckles of summer. Her tan lines we’re from a modest bathing suit but defined enough that you could have drawn an outline for some version of the emperor’s new clothes. She was comfortable in her own skin and indifferent to those around her. She was very unusual and carried herself considering she had agreed to be a sex slave for the evening. 

Lotti was the only one left to be bid on for the evening.  It has been an entirely civil night of sensual and sexual indulgence. Not a bawdy orgy of arms, legs, sweat and bodily fluids choreographed o pleasure. I had no information about her in my book. Unlike the others who were a caller, she had a 2-inch green satin ribbon tied in a bow at the back of her neck. She didn’t have a curd with her “hard no” list attached to it. 

A pair of soft green panties looked so odd in this cavern of dim light and sensuality. It was just panties, but these panties told a story. Her being told the story of being wise enough to not sell it but coy sufficient to be enticing. This was a woman who knew how to get her way without saying a word.  The green shimmer of mother of pearl captured in satin and threads of silver through the lace complimented her smooth, taut skin. The lace detail dipped to the top of her pubis, drawing the eye to the Aladdin’s cave of wonder, veiled behind the flawless green satin. The satin was gathered, not tight or worn, almost as though it floated above her skin.  My sex twitched with the thought of running a nail along the edge of those panties.  Imaging my face against her thigh, blowing cool air over the satin until I raised goose pimples on her creamy sun-tanned skin or a moan of pleasure from her throat.

I was happily doodling in the margin when the auctioneer came to the centre of the room. 

“Slaves and Masters, tonight or cave of indulgence offers a rare treat indeed.” He walked over to the wall, slid his hand behind Lotti’s back and escorted her to the centre of the room. She walked. He spoke, “this tantalizing being offers a unique and special opportunity for everyone here this evening. Lotti is here to fulfill a fantasy.  Not to be taken lightly, I have assured her of the ultimate erotic journey. Lotti has entrusted me to invite you to heighten her senses and bring her to rapture.”

The crowd was audible in its delight. With all master’s permission, we would like the slaves to be released to participate freely. However, if a master cares to choreograph and direct a particular slave to participate in what is to be offered, that is acceptable. The hard limits are no marks, no toys, check-in before penetration and safe words green, yellow, and red.

“the fantasy is simple. Our darling Lottie would like to be restrained, blindfolded and delighted. She has been pampered, oiled and made ready for a banquet of delights which we offer to you. All I could think was he has to stop talking this way because it’s way too weird. However, when I looked around the room, it was apparent, he was spinning a web that would draw in every willing participant. The question was, what Ds would play or who would run free?

He motioned me to come to him. The caftan-wearing auctioneer squeezed Lottie’s bottom. She squeaked and hopped a little. Quietly I was told to take the two male slaves to the other side bring the double bed to the middle of the room, placing the casters and their wooden blocks. Ensure the four-point restraints were easily accessible and that a clean satin sheet was placed over the waterproof covering. I was to put a black satin scarf, a hair elastic, massage oil, lube, 2 sizes of condoms and an assortment of arousal items on the folded table draped with a heavy carpet. I took the two male slaves by their lead and escorted them to the other side. I undid their leads and gave them a set of instructions. Leaving them to their own devices, I went up to the fridge and grabbed a case of water. Without prompting, I grabbed a tray of ice, a small bowl, and a clean dish towel as well. The ice was because I wanted the opportunity to torture and pleasure those beautiful blush nipples. The mere thought of tracing her areola with the ice followed by my warm, soft tongue encircling her nipple as it rose made me blush. I envisioned her in my mouth and sucked wantonly. The vision of her drawing away from the cold and then arching upwards silently asking for more as the ice melted away and my hot mouth feasted on her luscious mound. I longed to have her for myself to open her wide and taste her sweetness. To let my tongue moisten and massage her sex, sucking her hard clit into my mouth and wildly flicking her to orgasm with my tongue. The mere thought of it made my nipples hard, and my cunt twitch. 

Adjusting my clothing and taking a moment to bring myself back, I went back to the basement and distributed the water to everyone. Our host had explained that the same rules applied as always. Safe, sane, and consensual whether it’s a party of 1 or 10, everyone is safe, everyone is trusted, and no one crosses the line. This was an experienced group of BDSM aficionados; so, I wasn’t too worried about things going wrong. Everyone except Lotte was hydrating and nibbling on snacks. In my absence, a small stool was placed near the auctioneer. He was holding the black scarf in his hand. 

“Lotti has asked that no one speak, that this be a completely tactile experience and what loti wants, Lotti gets. I’m going to blindfold our voluptuous treat.  Each of you will use hand signals to let me know your bid. Remember, you are not bidding for exclusive access but to share in the pleasure. There will be no talking, but there can be utterances of fun and divine ecstasy that lift your senses and engage your thoughts. What do you want to do to help this woman fall into herself to experience freedom like only we can offer. No judgement, no reprisal, just fucking great sex. 

Lotte sat blindfolded on the stool with nobody touching her. The house-made itself known with the blowing of the furnace and the creaking of the walls. I momentarily closed my eyes to try and imagine what it felt like to be naked, blindfolded and surrounded by a group of strangers. I played with almost every member of this club and thought nothing of stripping and joining in the fun. The slaves stood together between the Doms and me. I couldn’t help but wonder if the masters got more joy from controlling someone from afar or if they wanted the salt of her skin in their tongues.  I had never seen an auction night be so orderly, civilized, and incredibly sensual now build towards a potential orgy. Every other time this group had played together by the 2nd or definitely the third slave, the entire room would be actively playing. Those who had not bid Would toss money at the auctioneer and allow for a free for. Often times padded sawhorses held a girl or two readies to suck and be fucked. Without fail, at least one man would be turned into a pet or a Sissy and at the side of one of the Doms for the night. The rules of no booze and safe words were always present, but it was just wilder than this. This pace and control built the intensity. Everyone was still enticed to play and fantasize right to the very end of the night. No one wanted to go home early from this final act. The bidding head finished, and Lotte was satisfied with the amount she had raised. I was told to record $2200 in the book but with no specific name next to it.

All we’re welcome to play as they saw fit. I jotted the information down and placed the book on its’ shelf. Several people were undressing. I  stepped forward and raised my hand, waiting to have Lottie’s hand put into mine. I brought her close to me.  My arm around her back, hoping to make her feel protected. I steadied her as we walked towards the bed. I whispered instructions. I directed her to the center of the bed, secured her blindfold, and placed both her hands and ankles in the four-point restraints. I kissed her on the forehead and told her she was a very good girl. I resisted the urge to nip at her erect nipples as she maneuvered herself into a comfortable position.

Coming Out As Kinky

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With this corona virus attack lasting over a year so far, it has had wide ranging effects on our society. Not the least of which is, as I mentioned before, the temporary closing of many dungeons – and the “kinda-sorta house arrest” that has stunted our BDSM play options.

But life – and relationships go on. And this week’s query comes from a person who wants to know how to announce his collaring – but from a different perspective. I am sure he is not alone in this concern. So I kept that in mind when I chose the following question.

Reader: I’m gay male sub with a corporate job.  I came out about being gay a long time ago, and nobody made a big deal about it.  I’m now collared to my Dom and thinking about coming out about this too.  What do you think about the pros and cons? I’m proud of my Master and want to tell everyone! I do not want to live in secret.  Any advice?

Although one can find parallels between coming out of our BDSM closet and coming out of the gay one, they are really not the same. For one thing, we don’t have TV shows like “Queer Eye” promoting a user-friendly image for lifestylers. We don’t have an army of pro-gay celebrities talking it up for us. Other than an occasional “CSI” episode, we are generally portrayed as being one step up from cannibals, (Especially with Armie Hammer being accused of harboring cannibalistic tendencies.) Even with the “Fifty Shades” series putting a user friendly face on our lifestyle and the incorporation of BDSM elements in even the most tame porn, there are few outlets extolling the virtues of BDSM.

Discrimination against homosexuals is illegal; last time I looked, there was no such equivalent protection for us. And the gay community can look with pride to Pete Buttigieg as a U.S. Cabinet member; a “Sadistic Senator” is likely quite a way off, Our legal rights are still very much in the gray area; so when you come out of the BDSM closet, you come out on your own. Furthermore, I don’t believe there is an imperative for anyone in our lifestyle to out themselves.

Even with the rapid change in American morals, I still marvel at the apparent ease with which you were able to come out as a gay person “a long time ago” as you state. Although your experience might not be unusual in the bigger cities, don’t assume that it will be easy anywhere once you add BDSM into the mix. Mention that you are into bondage to the average vanilla American, chances are you will hear something like, “You mean you beat your spouse?” Thus, if you come out the closet, you will, in the words of Desi Arnaz, “have a lot of ‘splainin’ to do!”

‘Splainin’ or not, I would carefully weigh the effects of coming out in three major areas. First and foremost is your corporate job. Since you mention this consideration first, it is certainly a serious concern of yours. I do not know your situation, but corporate America is typically conservative. Not only should you never risk your job (unless you hate it and/or have another source of income or want to get unemployment), but you should also assume that once you out yourself, “what could go wrong, will go wrong.” (Murphy’s BDSM Law!) Use a worst-case analysis regarding your occupation. Only if there is no possibility of job-related repercussions should you proceed. Although laws vary from state to state, don’t expect the same type of government protection that our gay brothers and sisters get. Often times Find out what the consequences might be before you make a move. Often local laws require an arrest if an officer sees a black and blue on the female – which can happen after a noise complaint. This is quite the opposite of a gay noise complaint situation.

The second area of concern is kids. If you have children, there could be some legal ramifications. BDSM could be a negative factor in custody battles. When kids are involved, especially young ones, you should never take any chances when the BDSM lifestyle is involved. Rumor mongering and gossip can come back to bite you in the rear end. So, unless you are very secure in your parental situation, “don’t tell and you won’t be asked” is the best policy!

The final consideration I will discuss is your vanilla friends. Obviously, your lifestyle associates know what you are about; in this regard, coming out of the closet is a moot point. And, your very close vanilla friends will stick by you no matter what – or they are not close friends. (My vanilla friends know almost everything about my lifestyle.) Predicting the effect your disclosure will have on the rest – or “non-close” – of your vanilla acquaintances is not easy. Some will be cool with it, others will be shocked, still others might post this info on Facebook. Personally, I would scope them out before I told them anything. Bringing up anything BDSM could entail risks. See if they are open to it. If they aren’t, you risk censure. If you can deal with that, fine. But, you should have a good idea what to expect before you commit to outing yourself. After all, it is always best to look before you leap. In your case, look twice!

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.

Beanpole’s Humiliation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An Inside Look At Pet Play

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It has been nearly two years since the first time Master called me Pig.

We were sitting in a Leather class at a local convention and the Leatherman teaching the class introduced both himself and his wife/slave (who could not attend for health reasons).  He explained that she was his girl and she identified as a Pig.

Naturally, someone asked why.

His answer still rings in my ears today. “Because she squeals when I hit her.”  He laughed.  He said that was their favorite response to the question.  I do not remember most of his definition of why she identified as a pig.  I remember key words.  Tenacity.  Durability. Loyalty.

Master did not hesitate in leaning over and whispering in my ear that it sounded like me.  In an instant, I was blushing, and I hid my face in his shoulder, shaking my head slightly.  I was embarrassed.  

Each time he brought it up that weekend, I adamantly refused him.  

When I finally accepted his new name for me, I corrected him.  I am not a pig.  I will never be a pig.  But I would happily, and bashfully, be his piggie.

There are two defining reasons for this distinction.  

Growing up, my Great Graa and Graa (short for grandmother) were my best friends.  For the first eight years of my life, I spent more time with them than my parents.  They referred to our trio as the “Pig Women.”  While I was never told why Great Graa gave us that nickname, it is still something I hold dear.  It is also something I choose to keep separate from the darker side of my kink journey.

The second are my own experiences growing up.  

I am not a traditional beauty.  I have, only in recent years, come to accept that I am beautiful in my own way.  I have never been desired by anyone who did not use me for their own gain.  I was bullied, lied to, manipulated, used, and abused by those I had chosen to trust as friends.  I have spent my life overweight.  I have struggled through eating disorders, self- harm, and mental disorders.  I have continually shied away from anything that negatively related to any of those struggles.  For me, the term Pig has ugly connotations that refer to my weight struggles and my non-traditional looks.  It is a time of my life I am not eager to relive.

Throughout my journey in kink, I have discovered strengths in myself that I never thought possible.  I found I could take heavy impact play.  In fact, I craved it.  I adopted the term masochist to define my love and craving for such rough play.

I reveled in making people cringe when they watched us play.

But it wasn’t until Master introduced me to humiliation and degradation play that I found my place.

Where I could take a beating quietly, and I could banter back to tease him, humiliation would reduce me to tears in a matter of minutes.  The first time we delved into it as the main part of play, He thought he broke me.  The scene lasted about ten minutes.  The aftercare took more than a half hour.  

The end of that scene found me kneeling, unable to speak, tears rolling down my cheeks, and unaware of anything around me, including the presence of Master.

I have never felt more liberated than I had after that.  My demons felt less oppressive and my mood was lighter.

From that point, we have pushed against all of my perceived boundaries.  We use my fears to amplify the intensity of a scene.  We take my insecurities, and he criticizes me for them in play.  He has taught me that when I kiss his boots to end said scene, the insecurities stay there.  By adding them to play, they plague me less in my everyday life.

I have found a deep love of foot and boot worship.  I find it relaxing and arousing, and absolutely humiliating.  Worship has the flexibility to allow me to play sensually just as easily as I play rough.  For example, kissing his boots to end a scene is comforting.  It allows me to reconnect with Master.  Removing his boots after a long day of work reminds me of my place.  Polishing his boots allows me to care for him and show my pride in my service.  Yet, licking the dirt from his boots as he degrades my skills, both arouses and breaks me.  It makes me try harder, push more, and lose myself in our play.  

What I find most ironic, is that I can explain the humiliation I have willingly suffered, but the idea of expressing what piggie means to me, has left me struggling to put the thoughts to paper.

So, let me start back at the beginning.

As I said, I was embarrassed.  But I was also confused.

I am not, nor will I ever be, a pet.

Master is not, nor will he ever be, a handler or an owner.

So, how then, could I be a pig and yet not be a pet?

Pet play is when someone roleplays as a domesticated animal.

I do not find this definition to be all encompassing, just based on the pets I do know.  For them, pet play is also a headspace.  This is where they often take on the characteristics of the animals they relate to.  For example, the kittens tend to enjoy curling up, purring, being petted, meowing, etc.  They may have their ability to talk restricted since “animals do not speak English.”  Some enjoy being placed on a leash and playing with toys.

The first time I was introduced to pet play, it involved Pony Play.  Specifically, it involved “Show Ponies.”  Then I was introduced to Puppies.  Then Kittens.  At this point, I have met foxes, bunnies, and even a lizard.  You truly can be whatever you wish to be.  

**For reference, I was introduced through friends.  I did not partake in the activities myself.

Most often, Pet Play varies from animal to animal.  

Let’s look at the most common animals: Ponies, Puppies, and Kittens.

Ponies, for example, tend to work on their walks (such as cantering).  But even this varies.  Some ponies are trained to pull carts.  Sometimes their trainer rides the carts and sometimes it is for labor purposes.  Ponies are one animal that undergo more formal training than other animals.  

For example, when leading a pony, a trainer should stand on the left of them, with a 12-18in gap of lead between them, to lead the pony.  This is similar to the etiquette of leading a bio-horse.  Keeping the lead slack if the pony is behaving and tightening it when they disobey.  A sharp tug can stop an errant pet in their tracks.

If you are teaching them “tying,” the process reflects teaching a puppy to stay.  A ground tie simply means your pony has reigns and/or lead on but is able to remain standing at a point you have left them without requiring them to be tied to a post so they do not wander off.  

It starts with a proper stance. The pony should stand squarely, his weight distributed evenly on both legs.  His front hooves and fore hooves should be hanging straight down.  His head should be held up, his back should be straight, and he should remain looking ahead of him.  Once he has mastered the stance, the trainer will slowly work on teaching them to stay.  Depending on the pony, this can be a lengthy process.  Positive reinforcement is the recommended way to train but a good swat on the ass if they aren’t listening never went awry.  You may wander a few feet after telling them to stay.  If they do as you have instructed, you should move back to them and then reward them.  You can give them a treat, pet them, and/or tell them what a “good boy” they are.  If they have disobeyed, pick your poison for correction.  It could be a tug on the reigns, a verbal reprimand, or a swat to the ass.  Repeat this process, moving a little further each time, until they have demonstrated their understanding of the command.

The Ground tie training helps with the next step of training.  Ponies are expected to be able to stand still for longer periods of time (i.e. more than fifteen minutes).  Fidgeting, pulling, or pawing is considered undesirable.  A pony should be able to sink into their identity and hold themselves with calm confidence.  The best I can describe it as is a deep meditative state.  

Pony training is a long process that requires a deep love and dedication to your desired role.

Puppies tend to be very enthusiastic, play fetch, and tend to be social.  I have had a little more interaction with puppies than I have ponies.  They are my personal favorites.  I find the happy energy that puppies exude to be contagious and I find there to be a little more freedom in their interactions with outsiders.  I am also a sucker for a cute puppy and do so love to pet them (with their and their owner’s consent).  

Puppy play is often a direct reflection of what a bio-dog likes.  Most puppies enjoy playing fetch.  They enjoy tug of war and catch. They love being petted, belly rubs, and, of course, treats.  I find puppies to be exceedingly loyal as well.

They can be trained with commands through the use of German words (as Service dogs are trained), sign language or hand signals, or through the native language of the pup.

Puppy play varies from person to person.  It depends on what they enjoy, disabilities the pup may have, opportunity to play, and so forth.

Kittens are far more introverted and tend to be calmer. In our local community, we have eight people who identify as kittens.  The leading theme is that they also identify as littles and brats.  While these identities are not mutually exclusive, in my experience, they often intermingle. From what I have been told, the mindsets are similar.

I find that kittens and puppies also tend to have behavior corrected with BDSM-related discipline.  

Let’s break this down a little bit further:

The wider umbrella term of this kink is called “Animal Play.”  The definition is the same as Pet play, but it tends to refer to non-domesticated animals.  Cows and Pigs fall under this type of play.

A furry fetish refers to an interest in animals with human-like tendencies and features. Indulging in this fetish might involve drawing these characters, wishing to become them, or interacting with other furries in online communities.

Although often mistaken as such, Primal play is not inherently animal play.  It revolves around getting in touch with your baser, and more animalistic, instincts.  While I have met some who relate to animals, such as wolves, it is more about power than being an animal.

Each of these sub-categories can include sexual aspects.  It is purely up to the negotiations and consent of those involved on whether sex is included or not.

Then there is Piggie.

Piggie is born of humiliation.  

I talk about her as though she is a separate being.  Because, in my mind, she is.

Piggie has her own headspace.  It isn’t animalistic to me.  It is a quiet headspace.  It makes it difficult for me to speak with words and I am often reduced to a low whining sound, from the back of my throat.  I find that the boundaries of my limits blur so heavily, I struggle to remember that they exist. While Piggie prefers to crawl, there is no limit to standing or sitting.  

When we started this, Master only called me it occasionally in an effort to embarrass me.  He said my reaction was cute when he brought it up.  This was not limited to in-person teasing.  He would often tease me through text as well, and it was no less impactful.

Then it showed up in a scene.

It is hard to remember exactly how it happened.  But sometime during our play, he referred to me as his piggie.

Later on, I asked him why.  He wasn’t sure.  He said it felt right in the moment.  Slowly, over that next year, the name would appear more and more.

I asked again.

He said it was because I am always “down to get dirty.”  When I asked for clarification, he said that I had little inhibitions when it came to play.  Whatever he wanted to try, no matter how humiliating or ‘dirty,’ I would whole-heartedly explore.

I considered it a compliment at that point.  

Then came the oink.

During one of our scenes, maybe 9 months ago, he ordered me to oink for him.  For those of you who read my stories, you can imagine what happened.  I stared him down, in complete silence, and I pursed my lips.  I silently refused to oblige him.

So, he pushed me.  He put my body through impact that was meant to break my resolve.  Without a word, I knew that I was either going to oink or safeword by the end of that scene.  I just had to figure out which option I was taking.

Over time, “oink” has become a safeword on its own, at least to me.  We have scenes now that do not end until I utter that word.  While it has never actually replaced my safeword, I know that when I have to choose between “oink” or “Red”, I will always utter “oink.”   

**It is important that I specify that we have never negotiated oink as a safeword.  The feeling of it is solely based around how I feel in the moment.  Making me oink is a form of humiliation, especially because I struggle so hard against it.  As with anything, there are exceptions to the rule.  We have continued play after I utter the word.  He has had me utter it over and over and over again, just to see me curl in on myself in embarrassment.

I have discovered that pushing myself to the point of oinking fucks with my head.  It strips me of my humanity.  It reinforces my natural reactions in subspace.

I am one who gets exceedingly quiet during play.  The further I get into subspace, the worse it gets.  It has been an on-going process to learn to answer Master verbally, in and out of play.  But, once I move into service mode, I stay quiet.  By the time I hit subspace, I lose the ability to speak at all.  It is as though I have forgotten how.  I stop understanding English.  I forget my own name.  I lose the ability to safeword at all.  

Master says I become catatonic.

Except, I can still be of service.  I can continue to function on autopilot and meet Master’s needs, but I cannot do it independently and of sound mind.  There have been many times that he has had to call the scene when I hit that point.  My trust in his ability to take care of me is infallible.  That is what allows us to explore such extreme mind fuckery without fear of permanent repercussions.

I explored pet play because that’s where everything leads.  When you look up “pig” or “piggie,” you either end up with pet play or food play as a result.  Neither of these fits what I am.

So, now I get to ask you the same questions I asked myself.

How can I be a piggie, if I am not a pet?

The answer is easier to express now.  It is because being a piggie is simply who I am.  The attributes I have given her are a part of me.  

I do not need to take on the roles of the animal itself.

I do not need gear (though we are exploring the absolute humiliation that occurs when I shake my 8-inch springy tail).  My talking is never restricted, nor is my ability to walk. 

 Being Piggie is not a headspace that I must achieve.  

Piggie just is.

She thrives in my humiliation the degradation of my everyday self.  She sets out to please, by any means necessary.  She has little in the way of reservations and finds pleasure in watching my inhibitions disappear.

Piggie is born from a desire to be humiliated and degraded by Master. Piggie is…Me.

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

Tink Was Next Off The Auction Block

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woman tied to chair splashed with water
via stock.adobe.com

***all works of erotica are fictional. We never condone anything that is not consensual.

Tink was next off the auction block. I knew everyone here was there freely. I did do a double take when I saw her in the line. She wasn’t a woman you missed, Her short wavy hair shimmered with a green hue. I wondered if anyone here knew she was a cop. She’s the cop that goes around to the schools to talk about street smart. The most distinguishing thing about her was her back tattoo it was the tree of life filled with versions of cartoon characters. There was something very twisted about a cop named tink with the love of all things childlike. As I watched her step onto the block I couldn’t help but wonder what she had warned that evening. Her makeup illuminated her face her manicure and pedicure were like punctuation marks on the points of her body and her athletic body was tanned to the most perfect Hue of Carmel. I looked at her and thought I could worship that mouth and those thighs for days. But that’s not what she was here for tonight. She was here to let go to release to be a slave to her own pleasure and pain. 

Her nipples stayed taught as the handler used a riding crop to force her to turn around. He slid the crop in front of her sex and forced a Yelp as he smacked it. One of the Ds forced her to bend over and slid a firm thumb across her anus pulsating ever so slightly to see if you could get a reaction. He slid his fingers through to her sex and she winced with his roughness. The handler called, “gentlemen nobody likes secondhand merchandise, eyes and inspection touch only. Alright girl assumed the position. She stood with her feet shoulder with apart her fingers laced behind her head and her head dropped so that all who wanted to, could, inspect her in her exposed natural beauty. 

“This exquisite slut is here for tonight only. She has chosen the charity which she will submit for starting bids are $550 and that will get you two hours.”

The Doms looked at each other, and raised eyebrows at the starting price and limit of time. While the other three were considering their options leather D got up from the couch and walked towards the diminutive powerhouse. “I don’t know, but I think I might like to see if I can break this little doll. She looks like she could be a lot of fun and worth the time and money. “

The older D with a beard like Kenny Rogers spoke up, “now hold on there leather we let you have your phone we stayed and played quietly and watched perspective now it’s our turn those were the rules one at a time.”

“I’m not saying anything disrespectful I’m just saying I think Little Miss tank here might be worth the money handler would you say the opening bid was again? “

Handler tapped Tink on the ass, so that she would stick her tits out more. He murmured something quietly to her and a broad smile came across her face. “all right boys there’s enough of me to go around double the price double your pleasure.” The handler looked at the gentleman and said, “you heard her boys she knows the money is going to a good cause. You can share but you both pay the same no deals not like Fuckwad got stuck with.”

KennyD quipped, “I’d be good with getting in on that share and share alike after all.” He stood in front of her watching as the coloured lights made her hair shimmer and her face luminescent. “So what are what are her heard nos?” he picked up the tag and read it out loud, “no ball gag and no hair pulling. Now that’s a new one never met a slave who had an issue with having their hair pulled, but alright sounds good. I’ll start 550.”

“Now let’s be clear here. For 550.00 you got’ta share ‘er there has to be another bidder- if you want to keep her to yourself 1100 disturbed that’s what she’s offering.”

The shortest of the four Doms in the oversized hoodie with his face hidden waved a hand and withdrew from the circle. KennyD, LeatherD, and DeadheadD were still in. The were stroking and grabbing their crotches, while the handler talked about the smoothness of her skin the perkiness of her breasts and the firmness of her ass. He took the crop along the bottom of her ass a tap to make it jiggle. She perked her ass as though asking for the smack. But the smack never came. “OK gentlemen we have 550 is it 550 alone or do we have a pair?” Deadhead D looked down the line at the three other slaves and then back at her, he didn’t say anything, but it was easy to tell he had something else in mind. In the corner of my eye I could see Fuckwad kneeling next to the couch and his cock was growing hard. He had just been used and taken for over an hour while the others watched and now, he was excited and wanting more. 

Leather looked at Kenny, “What do you say Bud you want to share?” Can you took a step back and put his hands in his front pockets with his thumbs hung out I never noticed that he was wearing cowboy boots before that very moment it made my nickname from all the funnier the next thing he was going to start singing Lucille. Well leather I’m thinking I might like to just do this piece of *** myself I think she needs some serious training not a whole lot of nose but their bodies got a whole lot of yes isn’t it, don’t darling I think I want to see if I can make this one squiggle just a little bit. Alright handler $1200 and she’s mine for two hours. Start the Clock I want my money’s worth.”

“Yes Sir.” Handler tipped his head to me I picked up the stop watch hit start and hung it on the nail next to where I was sitting. I didn’t speak I made a note in my book and gave a thumbs up. This was my purpose I was the keeper of things and Holder of secrets. 

Kennedi wasted no time switching into D mode. He yanked her by her collar and said knees. She was on all four and waiting for commands. he took the crop from the handler and smacked her on the thigh indicating forward movement she began to crawl, and he hit her again forcing her to speed up. “Move it skank, you’re the one who said time was money I want my money’s worth get your fucking ass over there and in the air.” Tink scurry to cross the carpets with her head down and moving as quickly as she could. A Ping pong ball bounced off the far wall and Kenny called fetch. Tink scampered towards the ball and picked it up in her mouth. Her knees had to be burning. She hesitated but a moment before she made her way back to him. she held her chin up presenting her Master for the night with the ball she had just retrieved.

“Let’s try that again and with feeling this time he tossed the ball and it ricocheted from one wall to the other forcing tank to turn quickly and temporarily lose her balance. 

“You are the most ungraceful cow I have ever seen in my entire life. I’m not very pleased. Obviously, you need some training come heal. She retrieved the ball and made her way back to his side holding her face up to give him the ball. her face was red from exertion. 

If you are going to act like a dumb bitch, that’s what I am going to treat you like. Get that ass of yours in the air, he said, and he swatted her thigh with the crop he had taken from the handler. 

He squat down and looked her in the eye, “Are you a bitch?” His words were hard and deep, not playful.

“Yes, sir,” Smack then a booger in her face. 

“Dogs can’t talk, now let’s give you your first reminder of your natural state, “bark if you understand.” 

She barked a slight noise, but it was barely audible.

Smack on the other cheek, “I said bark”

It was louder this time. 

Maybe this will help inspire a nice bitch bark. He had a large anal plug with a tail. He spit in his hand and lubed up her ass. He used his finger to wake her sex while pressing is thumb on her but hole waiting for it to loosen. He smoothed and massaged her ass until he could feel her clit swell. All the while he spoke to her like he was prepping a bitch in heat to breed. When a moan was emitted from her throat, he stopped and grabbed her by the throat. “how fucking dumb are you? Dogs don’t moan, they bark. 

He lifted her by the jaw until she was standing up. Spread those check before I punish you for forgetting your place. She bent forward and opened her ass to him. He lubed up the plug and slid it in. The fur tail hung between her legs and she continued to hold her cheeks open. She yapped when he smacked her ass with his open hand. The impact actually made her hop forward. That was a mistake. 

“Stupid bitch,” a rolled up new paper appeared out of nowhere. I scanned the area and could remember seeing it before. KennyD adjusted his cock, you could see it fill the front of his pants pushing to escape its fabric prison. I couldn’t help but wonder of he was going to rub her nose in his crotch and say, look what you did, bad puppy.

With the rolled-up newspaper he swatter her behind at least a half dozen times. She fought to not move but he was strong, and she was fighting gravity. She stayed in character and yipped like a dog with each smack. With the final smack he said, “let’s try this again,” he tosses the ball and she scampered as fast as she could chasing the ball until it came to rest, she picked it up with her mouth and brought it back heel, so the tail laid across the bottoms of her feet. KennyD patted the top of her head and unzipped his trousers. A thick 7 -inch member unfolded and stood at full attention. I stopped chatting with the others and gave that beautiful piece of manhood the respect it deserved. “Oh! I would be so ok with that sliding down the back of my throat.” I said to no one in particular. LeatherD laughed and smacked Fuckwad in the head for laughing too.

KennyD cooed at her, come get your treat, pup.” I figure she must have impressed him; he had softened ever so slightly. She rose up on her knees and put she hand up like paws and stuck out her tongue await his cock. 

“Good girl he said as he slid the tip along her tongue and filled her mouth. She sucked him hard, you could see her check draw in and the sucking and gagging noises filled the air.  He face -fucked her and the pace was vicious, she chocked, but kept her paws up. His hand held the top of her head and he rocked his hips while she gagged and salivated. Just as his gyrations were staccato, he stopped. He pushed her back by the forehead, careful not to grab her hair. He looked her in the eyes as saliva ran down her chin, “Green?”

She yapped and smiled. He reached behind and grabbed a leash and clipped it on. He led her to the cross. He had two straps and a cordless wand. He arranged the wand to be against her clitoris  and then He strapped her ankles and wrists to the Saint Andrews cross with her pert little *** in all its glory holding a puppy dog tail. 

“Alright you ***** let’s see what you’re really made of. Don’t come without my permission. She yapped in response and nodded her head to show she understood. he stood close and used his hands to caress her from tip to toe. he massaged her ass and played with her sex until she whimpered. he turned the wand on its lowest setting and retrieved the floggers with 18-inch falls. He dragged the falls across her back and over her sides awakening her flesh in anticipation of what was to come. He asked the handler to double check that the wand was in place. The handler melt on the other side of the cross and double checked Kenny D’s handiwork. The wand was barely pressed against her clitoris and labia. The handler nodded in approval and stepped back out of the scene. He asked Tink for her safe words and he began to slap the air with the paired of floggers.

“I’m going to do 10 impacts aside and then increase the intensity for five if you want me to stop say so.” The floggers impact was slow and each one covered the entire T of her back from opposite directions. She whimpered and urged into the awaiting falls after the 8th she rose on her toes in the first attempt to escape the impact. Her back was red and slightly striped. He approached kissed her shoulders and rubbed the awakened flesh. He had laid one flogger across her shoulder in order to inspect her pussy. he whispered in her ear as though there was no one else in the world. Asoft long kiss sat on her shoulder as he heightened her pleasure and awakened her orgasm . After several minutes, He retrieved the flogger looked at the crowd and said she wants another 20, but this time it will be her entire back. KennyD began rotating the floggers again filling the air with their whistling. The first few impacts barely touched her skin but you could feel the sting even from across the room he slowly worked his way with the first 5 aside up her back for the next 5 he varied his approach so that the entire 18 inches wrapped across her back from either direction. As he did this you could watch her sexual intensity increase. 

“do you want to come ??”

The puppy whimpered and shook its tail in order to indicate that sexual gratification was wanted. 

“If you do I have to stop and there won’t be any cock, “he said laughing.

she forgot herself, and said, “no thank you please keep going.”

“What was that ?”

a series of yaps and barks were heard as Kenny’s laughter filled the room. They were in the zone there was nobody else there as far as they were concerned. 

“You still have 10 more?”

She said nothing.

Smack the flogger whipped across her back, she arced and drew a deep breath with the shock.

“Let’s try that again, you have 10 more! “

She yapped in agreement. He drew close wrapping his arm around to the wand and increasing the intensity. She rose to escape the sexual torture. He used the weight of his body to hold her in place and ensure her body was still responding to the exotic attention. He backed away and told her to bark out the final 10. she did as she was told as the wand distracted the lashings intensified the building of her orgasm just as her body had wanted to begin to move in response to her sexual awakening the flogging was done and he had turned off the wand. She had been left on the edge of orgasm and completely unaware of the world around her. He undid the straps lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed in the dark corner of the basement where they stayed well after the two hours were up .

Collars And Rings

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bdsm leather submissive collar
via stock.adobe.com

“A collar is more sacred than a wedding ring.”

I have heard this sentence nearly as often as the one that says submission is a gift.  I made my view clear in a previous article that submission is a trade of services and certainly not a gift.  This time around we are going to discuss the statement above.

Let me get the hardest part (for you) out of the way first: I completely disagree with this statement and it makes my eye twitch when I hear it said (or see it written in a group).

I enjoy spending time in different online groups.  Don’t get me wrong, I prefer in person socialization, but a global pandemic tends to change things.  My problem with the groups is that even though our experiences and opinions vary widely, there are a few statements and/or beliefs that are pervasive.  The statement about collars is one of those beliefs.

I am going to pause for a moment to discuss my own collar.  I find that my viewpoints often confuse individuals. 

The collar around my neck shows I belong to Master.  It both marks me as his property and as his “little pain slut piggie.”  It represents his protection and his love.  It marks his right to discipline me as he sees fit. 

But my collar cannot speak to you like it speaks to me.  It does not regale you with the tales of me going nose to nose with Master as I learned how to submit.  It does not tell you about the aches in my fingers from writing enough lines to fill a notebook.  It does not tell you the number of tears that fell for me to understand that a submissive is as important as a Dominant.  It will not tell you about the struggles I had and the patience that Master had to have to teach me about self-love and self-care.

I did not have a collar while I was under consideration.  When he offered me His collar, He offered it permanently.  I wear a day collar because He knew I needed to have something to ground me when I am gone long hours at work.  I needed to feel the weight, and slight pressure, because it reminds me of his hand upon my neck.  It gives me strength when I panic, joy when I am down, and peace when I am surrounded by chaos.  And that collar has nothing on the strip of leather he wrapped around my neck the very first time.

When I refer to my collar, I am referring to a thick band of leather that has O-rings across its entirety.  It is heavy and demanding.  It allows Master to restrict me in any direction, in a variety of creative ways.  

It is extremely hard to remove, emotionally.  I am rarely allowed to wear it.  It is used for formal events and parties, and only once or twice has it been worn at home.  There is nothing more trance-like than the ritual of having it put on.

I cannot speak for anyone else, but the changing of my collars (from day to formal) always happens in proper dress.  Master will always be in his leathers and kilt.  I will always be kneeled, my eyes resting on his black, leather boots.  Most often, I am half-dressed, or less.  My back and neck lay bare to him.  My hands are held in front of me, flat with palms up.  His hand sits on the back of my neck, just letting me feel the warmth of his skin.  It burns like fire.  His body runs hot just as mine runs cold.  Then the metal is unlocked, and he drops it carefully into my awaiting hands.  He brings the leather into my sight and moves it to my neck.  He pulls it tight enough to make me gasp, every time.  He holds it tight, for just a moment, before buckling it at a more comfortable length.  Then, he hooks two fingers into the O-ring in the front and drags my head up until I am staring him in the eye.  It is the most difficult part.  Looking him in the eye, in that headspace, is a battle every time.  He is looking for something*. When he finds what he is looking for, however long it takes, he takes my chainmaille collar and slips it into his vest.  With the ritual, I shed most of my normal anxiety and inhibitions.  The leather allows me a freedom that is often elusive in my day-to-day routines.

*He told me once that he watches for the mindset change.  He waits, patiently, for me to switch from everyday life to service*

Now that I have given you a glimpse into my mindset with Master’s collar(s), I want to redirect back to why I feel it is unfair to compare a collar to a ring.

I have been with my wife for 12 years now, and we have been married for seven of them.  She is my rock.  She has seen me at my worst (and my most naïve) and has helped me grow as a person.  It is through her that I learned how to convey my affection and my love.  I learned how to communicate calmly, how to redirect my anger in a fight, and how to logically face problems.  I learned patience and understanding, I explored my sexuality, and I learned confidence in my actions.  I learned how to navigate my own mental health and how to balance the quirks and mental health of another.

I remember how glued I was to the television on election night when the reality of marriage became possible.  I remember the scream for joy, and the three days it took for my state to finalize the voting results.  I even remember that marijuana was legalized in under 12 hours on the same night.  I remember the excitement that I could give her the protections offered to only a spouse.  I remember the relief when I could make her medical decisions when they found the cancer.

I remember every aspect of our time together, just as I remember every second of my rituals with Master.

But, neither one of these things are remotely alike.

To compare my wedding ring to my collar is detrimental to both of my relationships.  Doing so undermines the lessons and growth that I have experienced with each.

My wedding ring symbolizes my dedication to us.  It is the commitment of standing together, problem solving, supporting each other, allowing for growth, and learning to understand and co-exist.  It is a representation of my love for her.  It is a show of strength.  It is also the recognition of why we are poly.  That ring reminds us that we remain dedicated to each other but recognize that one person cannot fulfill all the needs of another.  It is acceptance and support and the desire for the happiness of our partner.

Master tells me that “my collar is always on, even when it’s not.”  If, for any reason it is removed (such as for medical reasons), it does not diminish my role as His sub nor my worth to him. The collar is for me.  

I rarely wear my wedding ring.  I had the weld break on one at work and nearly lost it, so for my own piece of mind, I keep it at home and wear it for special occasions.  The lack of a ring on my finger does not diminish my role as her wife nor my worth to her.

The wearing of my ring and the wearing of my collar are two completely different mindsets.

Each represents two people, growing and learning together.  I stand tall beside my wife, and I carry her when she cannot walk.  Just as Master stands tall with me and carries me when I cannot walk.

My wife accepts me for all that I am.  She willingly put her insecurities aside and let me find and build a bond with Master.  She knows there are things she cannot provide me.  Master allows me to explore the darkest aspects of myself.  He does so with a calm and gentle demeanor.  He listens without judgement and allows his inner Dragon (what I call his Sadistic side) to give me what I need with absolute trust.

“A collar is more sacred than a wedding ring.”

There is no comparison between a collar and a wedding.  Just as there are shotgun marriages in the vanilla world, there are Velcro collars in the BDSM one.  

The symbolism of each represents trust, understanding, commitment, and growth.  Each, to me, have strong, permanent bonds.

Maybe I am unique.  Maybe the wearing of both a ring and a collar from different individuals is the reason I cringe when I hear that statement.  It often feels like I need to justify the importance of each relationship.  That I cannot give the whole of my being to either because I have both.

To be honest, giving my whole being is the easy part.  It is the vulnerability that I have struggled with the most.

Master has my mind, my body, and my spirit.  My wife has my soul.

There is no comparing the two.

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