Are you an s-type?
Do you enjoy bottoming?
Do you want to know more about slave positions?
Then, click below to learn more about the joys of crawling from Kinky Assignments!
Are you an s-type?
Do you enjoy bottoming?
Do you want to know more about slave positions?
Then, click below to learn more about the joys of crawling from Kinky Assignments!
Over the years, sexting and cybersex have definitively become a thing, as they offer a sense of anonymity otherwise not found in a face-to-face conversation. This allows people to open up faster, enhancing the feeling of emotional closeness to the person they’re interacting with, and strengthening the mental bond to the other person. This bond can be a very real thing to the one who feels it.
It can be difficult to find kink-related social events outside of the internet. If you’re into anything considered socially taboo, or something not discussed in polite society, you might find it rather difficult to bring up kink-related things, or your involvement in them, over a drink with a near-stranger. On the internet, however, you can explore whatever you feel society wouldn’t otherwise allow.
Because of these factors, online BDSM relationships are starting to become a common, as they can allow one to experiment with what they may believe their place in this lifestyle, or explore their sexual psyche, with very low physical risk. It’s not difficult to download an app, or go to website and find someone to eventually establish and explore a temporary, or longer term relationship.
A lot of people enter online BDSM dynamics because they live in a community where the BDSM lifestyle has little to no presence. Some people do so because they are in real-life relationships with a vanilla partner that has no inclination of, or interest in, wanting to explore BDSM in any shape or form at all. Some use an online D/s relationship to learn more about Dominance and submission, to see if it’s something that they may be interested in, before getting real-life experience. This isn’t always a good idea, if you don’t make your intentions known before starting, or at the beginning of, the relationship.
Honestly speaking, as long as the Dominant or submissive is fully honest with all of their partners, these types of relationships can be quite successful.
And finally, there are people that enter online BDSM relationships because they’re predators, or just fucking creepy, and want to see what they can get away with before someone calls them on their bullshit. Buuuut I’m trying to stay positive with this article, so… Let’s move on.
Most online BDSM relationships start out being primarily about mental exploration, without the intimacy of physical contact. For a sustainable relationship, it’s about knowing each other, and developing the trust to explore things within the dynamic.
Power exchange relationships require a lot of focus and attention by both parties, being a process of continual negotiation and adaptation. The Dominant can maintain a feeling of submission, using certain rituals, rules, and the like. The submissive can do their part via dedication and obedience. As in any relationship, imagination, creativity and attention become extremely important here.
A Dominant or submissive who neglects their partner simply because they’re in an online dynamic or long-distance relationship, will find themselves without said partner.
Here are a couple of things to keep in mind:
· As the mental space in an online dynamic can be an intense thing, there may (read: WILL) be times where you find yourself doubting your relationship. Because of this, you may find yourself wondering things like ‘how real is my partner?’ or ‘how serious am I in my relationship versus my partner?’
· It can be difficult to shift between your online dynamic and real-file, which can take a toll on you. At the extreme end, it could start to feel like dissociation, where you find yourself feeling like you’re mentally breaking away from your partner. But even if it doesn’t become extremely difficult, it can still feel draining to regularly switch mental states.
With these things said, if you start feeling off at all, you should definitely discuss it with your partner.
Earlier I mentioned that there are people that enter online BDSM relationships because they’re just fucking creepy. This is definitely something you want to pay attention to, as you will no doubt attract an absolute onslaught of fake, or wannabe Dominants — especially if you’re newer to this lifestyle. Keep your wits about you, as submissive frenzy is a very real thing, and can land you in a dynamic you’d rather not be in.
In case you were wondering, yes, Dominants can come across fake submissives as well, but it happens far less than it does submissives. In most cases, these so-called submissives are simply kinky people that want to experience just that, kink. They’ve typically no desire to be a submissive, and will prove to be a total waste of your efforts.
To continue, online BDSM relationships can present their own unique sets of challenges — and dangers. While these dangers may be more mental than physical, it doesn’t make them any less risky.
· How would submissive rebound, also known as sub-drop, be handled online?
· How would anything disciplinary be handled online?
· Do you really know anything about your online partner at all?
Knowing their family history and other intimate information isn’t really an immediately important thing (it can be over time, if your relationship progresses in that direction). However, knowing certain things about their past relationships, the length of time they’ve been part of this lifestyle, knowledge-base etc.
· Is your online dynamic simply a form of escape from your everyday life, or does the relationship have more meaning than that?
· Could your partner potentially have mental health issues?
If so, is it something you can be supportive of, or is it something potentially dangerous to you?
From what I’ve found over the years, a lot of the people who would rather be in an online BDSM dynamic either don’t have access to public spaces or communities, or have had identity issues in regards to self and social acceptance, leaving no other choice for them except to explore these parts of their identities online.
Online relationships can be intense, and becoming highly connected to someone who’s not physically there is a very real thing. However, when conflict happens, the stability of that connection begins to fall apart. It can suddenly seem to switch off, like a light, and everything can begin to feel like hard work, with the technological tools we initially thought so efficient, appearing to become rather ineffective. All the rituals and daily protocols that have been established over time can quickly be broken.
Hopefully this will never happen to you, but if/when it does, it’s important that you have a support system you can rely on. Online relationships can start fast and end even faster. This, of course, can be applied to any online relationship. But online BDSM dynamics can be a particularly intense, and the tough times can be very tough for some.
Now, you might be able to cope with this alone, but it’ll always be a lot easier if you have support. Friends who can listen to, and comfort you, are always going to be the best support. However, if your BDSM relationship is something that you don’t share with your friends, then it might help to have an online community to defer to. FetLife is a good place to start, as the site has groups you can join, and there are groups on Facebook that you can join as well.
Whatever you decide to do, be sure to have someone to talk to in place. Don’t ever isolate yourself — it’s not a good idea.
An online relationship can indeed feel very real, in my experience. Online interactions deal directly with the mind, and because of this, one can create a mental and emotional bond much faster online. This can also happen with newer submissives that are experiencing submissive frenzy.
But, it’s an important thing to keep the fantasy part of online interactions separated from real life. It can be quite easy to get lost in the fantasy that is invariably part of online BDSM dynamics. It’s equally easy (and dangerous) to believe that everything that happens during online sexting or scenes, are an exact replica of what would happen in real life.
For example, just because you’re willing to kneel in an online dynamic, doesn’t mean you can do it in real life. Or just because someone typed that they flogged you, doesn’t mean they’ve the knowledge or experience to actually do it in real life. Anyone can put on a facade of ability, in real life or in an online dynamic. But until it’s actually proven in person, it’s nothing more than that — a facade.
If you have little or no experience with aspects of BDSM in real life, then it’d be rather difficult to discuss how you might react to something. This lack of experience should be made known to your partner. By hiding your lack of experience, you’re setting up both yourself and your partner for some serious hurt. Being yourself, and not creating a fake world or background, is an absolute necessity to make an online BDSM dynamic work.
As in any relationship, online BDSM dynamics require an active imagination, commitment, honesty, and time from everyone involved. With a bit of effort, an online BDSM dynamic can be a rewarding and enjoyable experience. Keeping these things firmly in mind will make the aforementioned rewards and enjoyment even greater.
Rajan Dominari is an educator, consultant, and author on the subject of BDSM and other relationships. He is the founder of Dominant Desires, a website that focuses primarily on BDSM education and advice, and the author of Welcome to the Darkside: A BDSM Primer.
***All works of erotica are fictional. We never condone anything that is not safe and consensual.
A box was at the top of the stairs for cell phones, house rules. Each participant had signed a contract for tonight’s session. A faint smell of incense meets everyone as they make their way into the transformed basement. The only light is from a strand of Christmas lights stapled across an exposed beam. Oversized pillows and rugs covered the floor in front of a brown plush couch, which has seen better days. A padded sawhorse with straps and St. Andrews cross featured in the middle of the room. Speakers hidden behind draped fabric played 80’s hairband music. The music clashed with the vibe. It should have been sitars and ethereal voice drawing the participants into the Arabian night fantasy. Tonight, I was the watcher. A group of t-shirt and bare-chested men were making conversation on the far side of the staircase. The music quieted, a voice from upstairs called, “draw near, the auction will begin.” Each stair has a set of bare feet and legs.
The robed herald leads the line of slaves to the center of the room. The men on the far side fell in behind and immediately began to handle and inspect what was on offer. Each slave wore only a collar with a card hanging from it. The hard limits for each slave were stated on the label. The first beast on offer was male; his loose black curls covered his eyes. His mouth had been painted bright pink. It shimmered from the cheap gloss that had been used to begin his humiliation. A small pink ribbon encased his balls and accentuated his semi-erect cock. A Dom, bare-chested wearing cowboy boots and a pair of pressed jeans, ran his hand from the nape of curls to the slave’s full round ass. He sniffed closely and called to his compatriots, “boys, I smell fresh meat.” The bawdy laughter of the Masters’ filled the room with an eerie sense of the satisfaction they would take in those on offer tonight.
“What’s this useless Fuckwad afraid of?” he asked indifferently, smacking the slave’s ass, leaving a handprint on the soft pink flesh. The slave didn’t make a sound or make eye contact with the handler who held his collar.
“Oh, I think this will please you, Sir, no feet, that’s it.” With that, two other Doms approach and inspect the slave. One forces its’ mouth open and sticks two fingers to the back of the slave’s throat. He looks at the other Dom and says, “yeah, he’d do,” He presses down on the sex-slave’s head, forcing him to his knees. The Dom lines his leather-clad crotch with Fuckwad’s face.
LeatherD taps the handler on the shoulder, “let’s get started. This one amuses me.” The three men step back and wait for the auction to begin. “Tonight, is for real money. It all goes to a local charity. There is a minimum of 300.00 per slave but no maximum.”
I open my book and record the pen name (fuckwad) for the first. Bidding starts with 300.00 and goes up to $20.00 between the three men until they reach 500.00. A 500, the handler uses a crop and smacks the thighs and stomach of Fuckwad. “Gentleman, this one wants to be used hard and made very wet” He laughs at his own pun. Leather-clad Dom takes the bait, he approaches Fuckwad and roughly opens his mouth.
The other Doms raise their hands in surrender.
“Sold for tonight only, Fuckwad to LeatherD.” I record the amount in my book.
LeatherD clips a lead onto Fuckwad’s collar and yanks him towards his table. Slave followed, all eyes in the room turned to watch. The sex-toy is now fully erect, and precum glistens on the head. LeatherD smacks the member and warns the useless fucker that he will regret cummings without permission or giving his money’s worth.
“Yes, sir,” seeps from his lips. With lightning speed, LeatherD had a hand full of curls and forced his slave to his knees. “Don’t speak! Every time you do something without permission, it’s five with the flogger. Nod if you understand. Your safe work is can-opener.” Master delivers three tight smacks to the slave’s cheek. “I don’t like to repeat myself,” he continues to smack the other cheek as the slave nods.
Fuckwad’s cheeks were flushed from the smacks, he nodded, and a grin came across his face. I waited for the smirk to turn into a saucy comeback, but he stayed silent. LeatherD removed the ribbon with a deft hand and put a silicone cock ring around his play toy’s balls. Fuckwad stood ready for inspection, his fingered interlaced behind his head. Leather D had put wrist cuffs on his slave after he had inspected for cuts and bruises. “Safe, sane, and consensual,” he said, and he cracked a crop across his slave’s thigh.
“Ow!” shot out of Fuckwad’s mouth, and his eyes bulged the second he realized he had made a sound.
Without breaking stride, Master quipped, “that’s five slave- do keep track.” Fuckwad nodded but didn’t make a sound.
I could see him trying to look through his curls and keep his head bowed. Master for the night took inventory and continue to size him up. LeatherD tweaked the toy’s nipples, slapped his cock, and grumbled insults. All the while, the rest of the room continued with their inspection of the other slaves. Leather D held a flogger and nipped at the toy, flicking and barely making contact. Master soothed the awakened flesh with his large, calloused hands, grabbing and squeezing Fuckwad’s ass. Master circled like a shark dizzying its prey.
“You were fucking looking at me, you piss ass, don’t you dare look at me. You are a goddam waste of flesh. Your father would have been better off wanking off into the harbor, rather than your useless mother.” He spits in the slave’s face.
LeatherD turned his back on the room and inspected the items he had prepared for the evening. He pulled a deep red flogger. It must have had 100 falls; it was stunning. Extending his arms, the fall draped over on forearm. He displayed the flogger, holding it up, so close Fucktard automatically turned away. “That’s another 5 -you pussy,” Master drew back and walked behind. “Count bitch, what is your safeword?
“Can-opener” was clear as a bell, a sign Fuckwad was delighted to have Master punish him. Master did a final inspection of his toy’s thighs, ass, and back. He murmured something in approval. The first lash was met with little more than a murmur and the count of one. Fuckwad stood unrestrained hands clasped in front of him, feet shoulder-width apart. The next four were delivered in quick succession from thighs, ass, and back. He hesitated only to hear the count. On the third lash, Fuckwad wavered on the count as he fought to keep his position against the force. Master said, “that hesitation gets a do-over; let’s try that again, slut.” This lash had full force behind it. Leaving stripes across Fuckwad’s back.
“Three,” he blurted out and bit down on his lower lip. The strikes to the ass were the hardest from the sound and the resolve of Fucktwad’s tone. The final strike was not hard but airy, making contact between the shoulder blades and dragging the falls softly down the slave’s back. The flesh was crimson with streaks. Master rubbed and soothed the flesh as he walked Fuckwad towards his table, “good slave, hands on the table.”
Master removed the cock ring, and Fuckwasd shuttered as he held his load. He took a vibrating prostate stimulator, applied lubricant to the tip, and cut a length of bondage tape. Fuckwad was moved to the far side of the stairs, where the light was lower, and the others would have to consciously shift to continue to watch the session play out. Master clipped the cuff to a nylon strap that had been wrapped around the exposed crossbeam. Fuckwad was no longer able to stand flatfooted. He was upon his toes and fighting to keep balanced. Master spread his toy’s ass check and slowly inserted the anal stimulator. A groan of pleasure rose from his slave. A piece of bonding tape kept it in place. The slave’s cock was red and engorged from the stimulation. Master’s finger flicked the tip, after the fourth or fifth flick, his slave winced. Long firm strokes were met with breathless moans. Smack, “I didn’t give you permission to speak. Now you wait.”
LeatherD leaned against the table and unzipped his pants. His erect cock released and ready, “look at me, slave,” he held his toy’s eye and began to stroke. The slave’s cock seeped and jumped with excitement. Master circled Fuckwad and tapped the anal probe quickly. He held his slave to his chest. It was too much to endure. “Please let me cum?”
“Not yet,” Master held his slave tighter and increased the intensity.
“Oh, Oh, Ogh, please, Master?” the speech was practiced. Tethered to the ceiling on his toes, he opened his legs and held his load on the edge of ecstasy.
“You cum after I do.” He ripped the bondage tap away and removed the simulator. Master stood behind the slave and penetrated him. The slave threw his head back in pleasure. LeatherD was tall and tucked himself in under the restrained fuck toy. Bringing his slave to the edge again, removed himself and released the slave. Without prompting Fuckwad was on his knees, hands behind his back, sweat running down his body, and his master’s cock was in his mouth. The face fucking was relentless, Fuckwad gagged and drooled, taking his Master deep. Leather D lost control, just for a moment. I caught the look of pleasure as he watched the slave bring him to climax. He came in the slave’s mouth, and the cum dripped off his chin. He made no effort to clean his face.
“Bring me the horse, I will finish you off hard, and you will be grateful.” Leather D used a towel and zipped his pants back up. He stepped into a dildo harness with a nine-inch bright orange cheetoh of a cock. It was the funniest thing I had ever seen.
Fuckwad lifted and carried the awkward piece of furniture, avoiding contact with his cock, which was still hard but slightly less engorged. “You ready to cum, my boy?” he said with a smile. He strapped his slave down lengthwise. Fuckwad’s cock pressing against the edge of the horse, I’m guessing he wished for a glory hole right about now. Fuckwad’s new position drew the attention of another Dom.
He stood in front of Fuckwad, “may I use the front end? He seems talented?”
LeatherD laughed and slapped slave’s ass hard, “he is a good cocksucker, useless as a man, good fuck toy, though. Use that end at your leisure.”
With a condom clad member, Leather D pound Fuckwad, letting him moan and writhe to his heart’s content. He struggled with the desire to curl in on himself as Leather D rode him because his mouth was full of a relatively thick and short penis. He gagged as the cock was forced to the back of his throat.
“Do that again. He gave a little extra to me when you did that,” he said to the guest. His slave’s eyes watered, and he gagged on the short cock as he felt his release. His cock twitched so fervently it hit the horse as he came. Every nerve was stimulated. He was electric with the awakening his body was going through. You could see it. After he came, you could see the energy leave him. He was spent. LeatherD finished, and the other Dom walked away as he came on Fuckwad’s face. He nodded at his fellow Dom in thanks. LeatherD released Fuckwad and wrapped him in a warm blanket.
“You served me well, have some fruit from the tray, and you can sit at my feet.”
They joined the group and watched the proceeding in the other part of the dungeon.
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It’s essential to have goals. My slut goals vary. For the past six months, geography has been fun. At first, it was a match with places I had been, which extended into areas I wanted to go or know about. Being curious is a neat way to learn and make my way through the male population of my corner of the world. Not every message gets a response, but the profile was packed with details and interests that matched the reality of my luscious curves and sultry desire. Loving good sex is one thing, but knowing someone is into what you have to offer can be motivating.
“Love your pictures” was his opening foray. Hardly something to swoon over, but I don’t fuck for poetry, so I figured what the hell. The banter was intriguing. He was young and anxious to learn about my twisted little world of domination and submission. A weird little world of my knowledge and experience for him and a youthful cock and passion for my orgasm for me was enough to make him a regular. His full lips and generous mouth, athletic body, and desire for a heightened sexual experience solidified our mutual passion.
“We can meet at my place. I have roommates, but they won’t be an issue. I want you so bad.” That was the message the morning after our first meet. “I would love to see you in heels and stocking.” Quickly followed.
I was happy to oblige the following Tuesday. I slipped into a barely decent little black dress, low cut in the back and skimming the edge of my thigh, black sheer stay-ups, and black suede heels with shiny metal spike heels. The porch light was a bare light bulb. The starkness was notable was in such stark contrast to the Aladdin’s cave of treasure and pleasure I hoped to find beyond that bare bulb.
I paid little attention to the terrain as I climbed the stairs and stepped onto the grass. My hell sunk, and I fell forward onto my hands and knees. I looked up as he stepped out of his door. I righted myself and passed him my tote bag, and I brushed off the dead leaf and pulled my dress back in place. In some weird way, it was the perfect ice breaker. He whisked me to his room and fussed my wet, bruised knee. The niceties of a first meet were swamped by the adrenaline pumping through my system. He was talking, and I was watching his mouth, those full pillow lips I longed to suck and nibble. I nibbled my own lower lip as I waited for him to stop talking. My clit twitched, and his hands smoothed and caressed my legs and thighs. His fingers found the edge of the stay-ups, and my breath hitched in my throat, a small moan of pleasure escaped. I checked myself. We made eye contact, I fought the urge to speak, he dropped to his knees in front of me. He brought my face to his and kissed me. “This isn’t very sadistic” my thought was halted by the wakening of my sex, my clit twitched, and I was instantly wet.
His mouth kissed and suckled my inner thigh. His teeth grazed over the stocking, and his hand found my ankles and put them behind his neck. I lay back on the bed, still dressed and enjoying the hunger of his mouth on my thighs. My panties are soaked. The burgundy satin would be dark with my wetness. I stretched and writhed as he pulled the panties to the side and opened me with his strong ample tongue. He was out of my reach, and not a word had passed between us. I fought my desire to create social interaction. Instead, I emptied my mind and stayed in my body. He had found the spot, the holy grail of the squirt spot. He surprised himself and was delighted with himself.
As I moaned in pleasure, I interjected, “you might want to grab a towel,” ever the practical slut. I broke the spell. He stood in front of me; I sat up facing his cock. It’s stretched against his body-hugging boxers. I trace his cock’s outline with my long, manicured nails. I continue to fondle and careless until his hand instinctually lands on my head. I look into his eyes with my fingers stroking the outside of his boxers. I finally speak.
“ask for what you want.” My voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s firm. His eyes bulge. My power shift is subtle, and I wait for him. His eyes bulge, and he motions towards his cock, unwilling to say the words. I hold his eyes, occasionally blinking, smiling softly—my hand retreats.
“Babe,” his tone is pleading and weak. With that. I stand, kiss his mouth, adjust my stockings. And get ready to leave. “Seriously, you’re going to leave me like this?” The pussy is almost whimpering. With that, I picked up my bag.
“Next time when I tell you to do something, you will do it. Shame really, you have a beautiful cock.” I walked out the door, stayed on my toes, and left.
This is a question that is self-explanatory. So here it is:
Reader: Orgasm control and denial are topics of interest for me. I’ve heard lots of good things, but also that it can cause negative side effects. What do you think? Any tips?
First things first. Can denial produce negative effects? Many old wives’ tales suggest this to be true. Some claimed that too much sex is bad; others said that denial is the road to ruination. In the Reefer Madness era, believe it or not, there were even ones that said you would go blind if you masturbated excessively. Yet the worst that happened to me is that I wear contact lenses. Negative effects from orgasm control are a similar urban sex legend. Sexual denial usually produces no negative effects — other than causing fewer orgasms in your life. Albeit bigger ones!
The purpose of orgasm manipulation is basically to make for better, bigger more intense orgasms. (Sounds like a late night TV advertisement for the Orgasmotron – but wait, there’s more!) Most of us practice a form of orgasm control even in the vanilla sex world. — most men delay orgasm for as long as possible to increase mutual pleasure. But in BDSM, we have raised this to an art form. Let’s look at the two major classes of devices used in orgasm control – the “chastity belt” and the “cock cage”.
Since many things old become new, the chastity belt for females is making a comeback. As we become a more egalitarian society, it was only natural to expect chastity devices to be equally available to all sexes. Or to put it into Mad Men advertising language, “Chastity devices ain’t just for men anymore.” The effect of a chastity belt worn by a submissive – both from a role play point of view and a control perspective – can be awesome. Recently, lightweight plastic/composite belts have replaced the old bulky leather/metal ones; these high-tech belts are not the heavy locked affairs of Elizabethan times. These modern versions are a unique (although expensive) way for a Dominant to establish the ultimate in orgasmic and sexual control.
The cock cage too has felt the advancement of technology in its development. From the early plastic versions (the CB 2000) to the modern stainless alloy types, just like face-masks, they are available in a myriad of designs. (Once this pandemic is over, you can use your spare face-masks for BDSM play!) But whether used for pleasure or punishment – or anything in between – ultimately the aim of such devices is to make your play more exciting.
There is no doubt that sexual denial can increase horniness. (Just go to a singles bar on a Friday right after work.) But if you practice sexual denial on purpose, you can increase the anticipation and raise the sexual excitement to a fevered pitch. “Don’t masturbate (or have sex) until I see you next week” is a popular Dominant’s technique that can turn the submissive into a horny, sex-crazed obsessive by the time they see each other.
Another technique of orgasm control is that of bringing a submissive to the brink of climax over and over again. Whether ending in a “ruined orgasm” or a “super orgasm,” this “tease and denial” technique can be done over a period of hours (or days…WOW!) and can be excruciatingly exciting. Coupling BDSM play with “tease and denial” in a s scene a great way to produce explosive orgasms.
There is one area I have left to last – the legendary training of a submissive to “cum on command.” This has an almost mythic quality to it; it appears to be the ultimate Dominant achievement. I have heard tales of a Master being able to order his slave to cum via telephone and the slave doing so without even touching herself. I personally have never witnessed this; nor have I ever achieved this feat.
What I have done is to train a submissive to become extremely sexually excited via a voice command. The training technique I use is to deny orgasm over a period of time, thus building a heightened state of arousal. Then you link your voice command to this excited state – by stating your command at the time of highest sexual arousal. This conditioned response training is one way to get closest to making the submissive “cum on command.” And maybe, using this technique over a period of time, it can actually be accomplished.
As with all my suggestions, they are just that – suggestions. So let me know your experiences. Good luck!
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.
Being a kinkster is as unique as a random dot on a page. What do I mean by that? If you think of the world of kink as represented by a sheet of paper. On one axis you have the range of fetishes and on the other axis you have the range of intensities. If I look at my world of kink, the fetishes I am into and you look at the intensity level of my kink life, you will be able to put a coin about the size of a silver dollar over my preferences somewhere on the page.
Take protocols. In simple terms, a protocol is defined as “a system of rules that explain the correct conduct and procedures to be followed in formal situations” I am not motivated to have my submissive do tasks for the sake of doing tasks. And at the same time, our life, in a 24/7 TPE dynamic, we have a number of protocols in our life. Some are simple, for example, when my submissive goes off to work, she wears a butt plug as a way of keeping me with her, and she is required to send me a good morning message with a picture of her ass, butt plug inserted. This is especially true for us after marking her, she is required to send me pictures of her marks every day. That is a protocol. Something I have asked her to do for me as a matter of routine. I never have to ask her to send me a picture of her marks, our protocol is that she just does so after being marked as a matter of protocol. And she sends me a message via WeMinder (which I will talk more about in a minute) that she completed her task or duty.
There are other Dom’s who have similar but different protocols that they have designed for their preferred lifestyle. I interviewed a Dom who has his sub wash him in the shower and then she kneels with his towel presented to him as he steps out of the shower. It is a simple gesture of submission, and similarly to my sub, his sub does so as a matter of protocol without being asked.
Some dynamics are extremely high protocol. To the point that the sub has to have permission to do anything, including go to the bathroom. The degree of how intense the protocol dynamics are depend on the needs of the partners and they must determine what works for them.
Even though my submissive is collared, and even though this is TPE and a 24/7 dynamic, we actually have numerous protocols that we have chosen to live with. Before I say more about that, I want to talk about an app called WeMinder. This is an app that we use to track the protocols we have in play. We interviewed Mako, the developer of the app on our podcast, Kinky Cocktail Hour, that you can listen to here: https://www.buzzsprout.com/962578/episodes/6206590.
Using this app, my submissive logs her tasks and chores as she completes them, and it allows me to offer her feedback from praise to scolding, and even punishment. She can also share her mood with me at any time and know instantly that I am aware of how she is feeling. It’s a fantastic app for D/s couples who are protocol oriented. You can get the app by visiting weminder.app and I recommend it highly and it’s very reasonably priced.
When we engage in what we call “High Protocol” days, my submissive prepares for use the way she normally does, she is a three hole slut and she is fully prepared for a prolonged scene. When she kneels for me, which is how she presents herself to be used, she offers up a cane for marking. Normally she offers me her leash to attach to her collar, but in high protocol days, she gets chained with a heavy chain before she is used and marked. During high protocol days, she is limited to being on all fours during play and she is required to ask for cane strokes after her initial marking.
Her tasks and chores are both designed to fulfill on her role as a service slut on one hand and on her sexual submission inside of a sex forward, kink forward dynamic. Our daily maintenance spanking scene is a protocol. When I get into bed in the evening, she puts her head on my chest and cups my balls while we talk about our day and the final act of our dynamic that lives in the world of protocol is that when it’s time, she rolls over and we spoon and I take hold her breast, holding her close as we fall asleep. My point is that start to finish, our days are filled with protocols. We divide the protocols into two broad categories: Tasks and Chores. Tasks are things I might randomly task her with doing and that might be as different as having her masturbate with the Hitachi every 30 minutes, or to do certain routine things for me such as sending me a picture of her marks. Chores related to her duties around the house.
Protocols live in the world of agreements. On one hand they are designed to give structure to the dynamic and on the other, they are a natural evolution of a power exchange. My preference is to have the protocols occur because they fulfill her desires, so to implement a new protocol, we talk about it first, and I enroll her in the possibility that the protocol creates and then she does what I have requested but she does so because it is what she wants to do.
There is a very wide range of protocol implementation strategies in kink. It can be a very minor part of your dynamic if that is what you prefer, or it can be the entirety of your dynamic if that is what you prefer. I am going to make the observation that even in vanilla relationships there are protocols. For instance when I was married, my ex-wife used to bring me coffee on a Sunday morning while I watched soccer in bed. I came to expect this and it occurred routinely for years. I never asked her to do this, she just started doing this small thing for me that made our lives more manageable. The way that that small act occurred was that it was a loving action that made me feel appreciated even for just that moment. It was indeed a protocol that existed during my vanilla marriage. My point is that spoken or unspoken we operate with protocols all around us, the difference is that in a kink context, communication is the key difference. A protocol is an agreement to do x or y, which requires that the Dom and sub are in communication.
Being in a dynamic is a power exchange. The sub surrenders his or her power to their Dom and then it is up to the Dom to exercise that power appropriately. The sub wants to please. It is through protocols that the Dom communicates to the sub what is expected and required for that behavior to land as “pleasing” to the Dom. The sub knows where they stand. They know what is needed and expected. If they are committed to the dynamic, then they will fulfill the protocols. If there is space or distance and the protocols start to break down, then it gives the Dom something to address to get at the root of the upset.
I keep making this point: our kink is really communication. We talk about our dynamic almost every day. We plan, revisit, debrief, dream, vision share, and so on. The reason our protocols are in place is because we have made a series of agreements around our dynamic.
A good place to start is to sit down facing each other and do this drill. One partner asks the other partner what they want done to them and then asks what they want to do to you, and then switch roles. Take notes and then use those notes to talk about each of those ideas and make agreements about those that make sense to you to implement into your dynamic.
A D/s power exchange works best for all concerned when the communication is clean. We have a commitment to each other to allow no space between us. We are each responsible for keeping that structure in our dynamic and we have found, as will you, that the use of protocols keeps the dynamic humming along.
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“Naked,” Andaray said, as he always did when he was going to enjoy her.
One garment at a time, not hurrying but not dragging it out either, she undressed for her Master and her King. Lannid sipped a glass of whiskey, her silent audience.
“Face me. Grasp the bar,” Andaray said, indicating upward.
She saw a wood bar suspended between two others that dropped from a frame. Hands on the bar, she tried to shake it back and forth, testing its movement and security. It would not come out. She was held tall and open but not stretched like Master usually did.
He slid an arm around her back, holding her against him for a kiss.
“Are you being punished?” he asked.
“What is the purpose of this?” he asked.
“Our King’s pleasure. And yours.”
“And yours,” he concluded.
She smiled, knowing how much more she liked sex after a good beating. He’d taught her all manner of pleasures in their short time together. An entire education in sexual practices in a matter of eight weeks. He had learned not to ask her if she wanted this or that. Given the choice, she would default to no. He learned to tell her and then she would not refuse.
“Our king likes to see the strikes,” he told her. “I will swing from behind you.”
She only nodded. He’d done this before, so he could see her face during the whipping. He’d brought a long handled whip with a dozen wide, flat falls of brown leather. Swinging with arm extended, the leather wrapped around her side to strike her back. Gentle, with little force. He gave her several minutes to get used to the thumps and relax her initial nerves.
He swung with more force, the tips of leather smacking against her skin. This implement did not make her flinch, but eventually took her to a calm and dreamy state. He switched hands several times to strike from right and left, pushing her deeper into that fogginess. She lost track of how many strikes, lost all track of time.
He recognized the blankness of her face, paused to step in close against her and slid his open palm down her back. She sucked in a breath of callused hand stimulating tenderized skin.
She did, taking a fresh grip on the bar overhead. Eyes closed, waiting patiently. A cup touched her bottom lip.
Water. She sipped until he took it away. He walked around behind her again. Instead of the wide tails she was expecting, the thin braid at the end of a signal whip bit into her breast. Lannid smiled to see her jump inside her skin and stomp a foot.
“Fucker!” she gritted between clenched teeth.
Andaray only chuckled, and did it again.
A few swings in, Lannid opened his pants to stroke his cock nice and slow. A hundred times the whip striped her breasts, ribs, and belly. A hundred times she cursed Andaray. Whip over his shoulder, he reached around with both hands to grab her breasts. Squeezing hard, he forced a yelping scream from her. One hand smacked its corresponding breast.
“Asshole!” she said, foot stomping.
He pulled the stick holding her braid in its round coil, took hold of the braid near the top and pulled it sharply backwards.
“You’re going to be used now. Harder than I’ve used you on my own. Bend over the end of the bed.”
He let go to watch her slow walk to the left.
“You can use her however you want, General. She was a whore long enough to know every orifice is available. In addition, she will know that she is available to you whenever you want. Anything you want, she is to obey. If she doesn’t obey, you can force her as you choose. This is my private agreement with my Lifeslave. I discussed it with her. You can do with her as you can no longer do with the lower women of your court,” Andaray explained. “As we used to do with women captured in battle.”
Lannid took his friend at his word and positioned himself. A wad of spit between her buttocks and he drove into her anus. She screamed into the bed, stomping a foot. He rammed into her the way he liked best, harder than he’d done to Lanelle that first night. She hadn’t known it, but he had actually taken it easy on her.
The core of his soul most enjoyed brutal force and violence. He smacked Ebra’s thighs hard as he used her, held her braid to lift her face and hear her suffering.
“The whore likes it hard?” he hissed.
“That means yes,” Andaray said, sitting on the side of the bed to watch.
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“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.