sex

Topping Your Dominant

November 22, 2020 By Dame TylerRose. Leave a Comment

hot Domme ass with crop — via stock.adobe.com

Now and then, someone arrives in my inbox with a conundrum. Their dominant has, out of the blue, asked them to do the topping.

If one is always the bottom, always the submissive, suddenly being asked to do the exact opposite can be a startling prospect. I can easily imagine a deer in headlights expression as their brain freezes on that thought and cannot go forward.

“I don’t know how to hurt him”
“I don’t know that I can.”
“He is my master and I never want to see him in pain–let alone cause it.”

Dominant does not always mean being the top. I’ve said many times that the bottom can be the dominant. I am a dominant sadomasochist. Whether I’m the top or the bottom, I’m the boss.

Service topping is a thing.
Submissive top is a thing.
There’s nothing wrong with either of those things.

In this moment, we are seeing the dominant bottom/submissive top dynamic in action.

First thing’s first. “I don’t know how…” Stop right there. The simplest solution is right in front of you. ASK your dominant to teach you the implements they want you to use on them. There’s nothing to fear in learning how to swing a flogger or a paddle. You’re more likely to hit far too lightly in your initial efforts. The pillow you use for a target won’t really care. For all the “you’ll put out your eye” warnings about single tails, I don’t know anyone who actually has. It’s not that difficult to learn if you learn flogging first. If you’re an impact bottom, zinging yourself now and then is actually a bit of a bonus. Think about how your dominant uses them on you. Apply the techniques to your practice.

Ask your dom to teach you the lines they want you to say. Write out the script if you have to. Practice by yourself in front a mirror until you can say those lines easily. Actors practice their lines. The first few times you do this, you may as well consider yourself an actor. There’s no harm in practicing your script.

“I don’t know that I can” – Once you’ve learned how to handle the implements and say your lines, you’re one transition from doing it to a human being. You know you are capable in the sense of making the paddle work (on a pillow) so you take that big breath and you let the paddle swing to make contact with human flesh. Guaranteed you’ll barely bap the ass, but that’s okay. You’ve gotten past the hardest part. Actually swinging a paddle (or flogger) at a human being.

While you’re engaging in your very first topping scene, your dominant should be coaching and coaxing you along and telling you what you’re doing well and when to go harder.. You know what you can take. You know how hard your ass is hit, how hard the flogger is swung. Build up your force just like your dominant does. At the same time, you’ll build up your confidence.

You have a plethora of technique and experience at your disposal. Use it.

The thing to remember is that you are serving your dominant how they want to be served. Pain is pleasure to the sadomasochist. In pain, there is freedom. You are providing both and learning an entirely new skillset at the same time. There’s certainly nothing wrong about that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trust in Power Exchange

November 22, 2020 By Baadmaster Leave a Comment

With the corona virus extending its “Reign of Error” (as a lot of people have got this pandemic wrong) into every area of our lives, I suggest we protect the most important areas in our lives WHEN POSSIBLE! (Was that the longest sentence in kink weekly?) To clarify: obviously, we cannot just go back to business as usual. For example, except for Mistress Cyan’s Virtual Dungeon, all the bondage clubs, at least in L.A., are closed. So, what to do to keep our bondage skills sharp and to also have fun.By some magical coincidence, I was going through my “questions bag” (which really isn’t a bag) and found a query that, although written pre-pandemic, was rather prescient and deserves to be answered. So here we go:

Reader: I’m a newbie, but am very interested in expanding my horizons. It’s giving control to someone else that appeals most to me about the bondage world. I love games of the mind, and have always been a control freak in every aspect of my life. The idea of a Dom having his way with me is thoroughly exciting. BUT it is also scary. How do I learn to trust someone? To lose control? How do I stay safe?

It appears (emphasis on the word “appears”) that many people who are control freaks in their everyday world long to give up control in their BDSM life. They not only find it exciting, but they also like the break from being controlling and responsible. But, as the saying goes, “Old habits die hard.” The desire to give up control, no matter how freeing and appealing it might be, is often easier said than done.

Thus, you are not alone in desiring to make the transition from day-to-day “Domme” to a submissive. The keys to making this big leap are threefold: a) “fantasy vs. need” b) “Rome wasn’t built in a day” and c) “letting go is a process.” Let’s examine, in detail, each of these three “keys” that I proposed.

The first one is “fantasy vs. need.” Is giving up control just a hot fantasy or is it an actual need of yours? Many people have sexual or BDSM fantasies that get them excited. But, as I have stated many times, there is no rule that says you must act on every craving that floats your boat. It might just be that due to your personal situation, this “submissive fantasy” is one that might best be left unexplored. On the other hand, if you have a true “submissive need,” then you should forget that it is scary and just give it a shot.

For most adults, consensual needs, I suggest – if at all possible – you not leave them unfulfilled. If this is your case, and submission is an unbending need and not just a pie-in-the-sky fantasy, then it is time to get to the “Rome wasn’t built in a day” principle.Learning to trust someone is a step-by-step progression. Trust is neither automatically given nor demanded – it must be earned over time. Thus, you have a right to be wary of any new Dom you play with – until he establishes the level of trust you feel comfortable with. As with any human endeavor, there are variations from person to person. Thus, it might take you more time to be at ease with one Dom than another.

Trust your instincts. This is especially true with respect to safety issues. In play, make sure you have a safe word and don’t be afraid to use it. If you do, and the Dom respects it, that is one way trust is built. Again, don’t expect instant trust. Furthermore, if your Dom tells you “I don’t believe in safe words” right out of the box, this is a big red flag. This is – especially in your case, where you have apprehension – as close to a “no-go” as you can find.Finally, about “letting go.” This is the end result of the whole process; it is not the process itself. It happens automatically after everything else has fallen into place. You don’t have to worry about it. In fact, worry (along with tension, doubt and too much thinking) is the enemy of “letting go.”

When you trust your Dom implicitly, when you aren’t stressing about safety issues, when you become less self-conscious about the whole idea of submitting, then you will automatically “let go.” A good Dom will put you at ease about your concerns and free your mind to perform the tasks that he will demand of you — the actions that, taken in totality, define “submission.” Believe me, with all the decisions that are thrust upon me during thin pandemic, I too would like to be an “Un-Dom” for week or two! Or even a day!The beauty of submission is that, ideally, it is a mental state wherein your mind is freed from all concerns other than the submission itself. Thus, by its very definition, it cannot exist until all your other fears and doubts are dispelled. And, except in very rare circumstances, that takes time!

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.

Video: Electric BDSM Play Demo

November 22, 2020 By Depraved Eros Leave a Comment

Curios about Electric Play?

Want to know more about playing safely?

Never heard of Electric Play?

Then, be sure to check out this informative video brought to us by Depraved Eros! This week he tackles everything Electric Play and teachers viewers how to perform this type of play consensually, ethically, and safely.

Click below to find out more!

Electric Play Demo, BDSM Play

Watch this video on YouTube

Erotica: The Marionette

November 14, 2020 By Joji Sada 2 Comments

sexy submissive hair pulling toilet slut — via stock.adobe.com

I need you to leave me.

No, that’s not quite true. I need you to leave me…broken.

I need you to strip me of my building doubt and fear and bring me back to reality.

It has been a long few months Sir. I’ve waited patiently from the shelf I’ve been placed on. A lifeless doll, stationed on the living room bookcase, just watching the world through wooden lids.

Can you see the varnish on my eyes; glossed over and shining with need? Can you hear the creak of my hinges as I try to reach out to you? Can you feel the cracks in my body when you hug me? Can you taste the dust covering my soul when you kiss me?

Probably not.

I am a very good marionette. I move when you need me to. I move in and out of your vision when I feel it is necessary to ease your stress levels.

I make a lot of decisions. My mind moves a mile a minute, but my mouth is stitched shut. I tug and I tug but the threads are so tight.

I should be panicking.

But, I’m not.

Because good girls wait for when they are needed.

Isn’t that right Sir?

I am a slow learner, but I know that patience is a cornerstone of self-control. And self-control is your number one requirement.

So, I wanted to share a story with you. I want you to close your eyes and dream of breaking me in the most deliciously depraved ways.

Here is what I see:

My eyes are closed. They have been for ages now. You put me in the back of your van, told me to keep them shut, and not say a word. I do not know how long we have been driving. For all I know, you have been driving in circles just to disorient me.

Halfway through, you told me to strip. I am not wearing much. I never do when you tell me to get ready. I am so used to being naked for you, clothing seems almost a sin. There should never be anything that prevents you from seeing or touching any part of me at any time.

Its cold, even inside your van. I am curled in a ball, my knees at my chest, with my back against the seat. I am staying out of view. It would be no fun if the police were to pull us over.

It is taking everything I have Sir not to open my eyes. My stomach is rolling with motion sickness and my body is disoriented from all the movement. Yet, I know that’s why you did not blindfold me. You prefer that I obey through will power and without assistance. That’s why I know that whatever happens, I am going to have to make sure I stay in the moment.

Thankfully, the van finally stops. I have not moved. I am waiting for your instruction.

Mistake number one.

I hear the door open and suddenly my ankle is pulled harshly. My head drops to the floor and my back burns from the rug.

“Up and Present”

I scramble to follow your voice. I am hesitant because I cannot see where you are and where I should be. As I get up on my knees, you have decided I am not moving fast enough. Your fingers wrap around the chainmaille of my day collar and yank me forward. You are the only thing holding me up.

“Have you forgotten everything? Is this what I am stuck with?”

Your words sting. I keep my face stoic. You have not given me leave to speak. But, I right myself and get my balance back. My hands lock behind my back. My knees are biting into the grooves in the floor of the van. The connector bars for the seats are not kind to my shins either.

You lightly smack my cheek. “Head up.” You command. Then, without warning, my collar drops from my neck. My eyes are wide behind the lids. Now, I am panicking a little bit. You’ve never removed it without warning before. Have I upset you Sir? Are you abandoning me here? Am I being released? My chest is heavy and constricted. What have I done? Why won’t you talk to me? Please Sir. Please, tell me I can speak. Please.

Thirty seconds.

Thirty seconds and I have worked myself into a panic.

Thirty seconds and then I feel it. I feel the smoothness of my leather collar. I can hear the rings and feel the heaviness against my throat. I take a deep breath. I know what is coming next.

Your hands tighten it to its furthest point. I can see white spots behind my eyelids. My lips fall open in an ‘O’ and I gasp. This is about control. You will release when you are ready, not when I am.

And you do. As the blood pounds through my head and my head is dizzy in need, you let go. You buckle it comfortably.

I’m naked, terrified, and in my TPE collar.

Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to break me.

Your palm is resting on the top of my head. I am trying to prepare myself for what I have gotten myself into.

Ten Seconds.

Twenty seconds.

Thirty seconds.

The silence is long tonight. It is never a good sign when you are quiet Sir. It means you are losing yourself in the moment. That means the dragon you keep leashed inside will be in charge tonight. I may not survive this.

And so, it begins.

Your hand curls into my hair and I am yanked from the van and thrown to the ground below. It is soft and cold. In a split second, your hand is back in my hair and you are half dragging me. I am trying to crawl fast enough, but I keep stumbling. Left and right, back and forth, there is no rhyme or reason to where you are taking me. I feel filthy. My hands and knees are sinking into the Earth.

Please Sir, let me open my eyes.

I am thrown back to the ground with a disgusted sigh. I can hear your frustration with me. I don’t remember the last time I couldn’t keep up with you, step for step. I’m frustrated with myself and we have only just begun.

I turned my face sideways to lessen the pain on contact. I figured it out now.

You have me in the mud. You have me naked, outdoors, in the fucking mud. I did the first thing that came to mind. I growled.

I forget how quick you can move Sir. You had me flipped over and you knelt across my ass, your knee landing on my lower back. Your hand wrapped in my hair and yanked my head back painfully. You leaned close to my ear and spoke ever so softly.

“Did you have something to say piggie?”

I growled again.

You pushed my face into the mud and then pulled me back.

“Good little piggies oink.”

Silence.

I refuse to give you what you are asking.

Try Me. Push Me. Make Me.

As soon as you let go of my hair, I made a decision. I bucked my ass up to jostle you and I took off. Even with my eyes closed, I was determined to put distance between us. I have no idea if you lost your balance or not. As quick as I felt your boot to my side, kicking me over, I knew I had not bucked hard enough.

I landed on my back and before I could breathe, your boot was on my neck. It pressed firmly and I felt myself sinking into the mud. My hands pushed against your boot without relief. I knew I had pissed you off.

“Open your eyes.” My eyes popped open instantly. Even in the darkness, it was too bright. I blinked rapidly and struggled to breathe.

You are ready to watch me suffer.

You finally lift from my neck and I am gasping for breath. Your boot meets my cheek and shoves half my face back into the ground and I hear you talking finally.

“Your hands will stay off my leather if you wish to keep them out of play. Do I make myself clear?”

“yes.”

You push down harder. “Yes, Sir.”

“Up.”

My breathing is laboured and I am seriously contemplating refusing you. But, deep down, I cannot bring myself to do so.

I need this.

I lift myself from the mud. It is already drying on me. I can feel it cracking. I’m on my knees, staring up at you.

You tap my lips and I open obediently, tongue out. You clip a clothespin to next to my piercing. You smile so mockingly. “This will help wash you off.” I glared. Drool is not a way to wash myself.

“Tonight, we are going to work on your discipline, lil piggie. Kneel up, off your heels. Back straight, eyes forward, neck straight. Lace your fingers behind your head and keep your arms up. I do not want to hear a sound.”

You walked around me. I don’t like losing sight of you Sir, especially in such a foreign environment. I feel your boot nudge my ass. I rocked ever so slightly, but no sound.

Then, it happened. I felt a sharp sting. It hurt. I was unprepared for this Sir.

Then again.

And again. There was no warm-up. You are hitting me as though we have been doing impact for a half hour now. My body is cold and sensitive.

It hurts. My knees are shaking. Holding myself in this position makes it hard to zone out the pain of the hits.

I bet that was your intention.

Six. I think so anyway.

Seven. A sob is caught in my throat.

Eight. I am unsure what it even striking me at this point. It hurts. You keep changing the contact point.

Nine. The tears are leaking. I am trying so hard to keep quiet. I need to please you.

Ten. That was a particularly vicious hit to my thighs. I broke.

I fell forward. My body is hunched over, my back bare. My hands are in the mud and I am shaking, trying to keep the sobs in.

Silence.

I can hear you breathing. Even now, it cuts through the sobs. I am aware of you.

I bring myself back up into position. Just as you expect.

Its not the falling that disappoints you. It is the unwillingness to pick myself back up.

I look up at you. You are blurry through the tears.

Without a word, you take your boot and place it on my chest. You push. My body starts bending backwards. You are saying all you need to without a single word. If I am going to bend, it will be at your will and your will alone.

I keep balance for as long as I can until I am once again on my back. Your boot moves and the heel grinds into my nipple piercing. It feels as though you will rip it from my body. It hurts to intensely.

My body is twisting, trying to escape you. Your weight holds me in place.

Please Sir. It hurts so bad.

You move to my other piercing. It burns.

Please Sir.

Please.

You’ve barely touched me and I feel as though I’ve run a marathon.

I just want your comfort now.

Please Sir.

You move to grind your boot against my sex. My pelvic bone feels as though it is cracking beneath you.

I’m sobbing again.

But I know how to end this.

I must give myself over to your control again.

You are waiting for me to willingly do so.

I have known what I need to do for a while now. But my head was set on rebellion.

After a particularly strong grind, you remove your weight. Sobbing, covered in mud, and aching fiercely, I curl into a ball.

Brokenly, I end it.

“OINK.”

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.

The BDSM Vetting Process

November 14, 2020 By Joji Sada 2 Comments

two beautiful slave girls lying in bed awaiting their master — via stock.adobe.com

When we have the potential for a new relationship, we generally experience a sensation called New Relationship Energy (NRE). This essentially blinds us to the character flaws of our partner and often makes them the center of our world, regardless of if we are monogamous or not. It also impedes our communication skills. NRE allows us to take what our partner says as fact, ignore the red flags, and skim over the vetting process.

At least, it does for those of us who still vet.

When I started in the community sixteen years ago, vetting was very much an important step to entering a dynamic. This was especially true with the growth of the internet. With the potential of thousands of possibilities, you had to wade your way through the chaos, and sort potentials into a few categories.

Category 1) Hell No.

Category 2) Not my Kink (this is basically my kink profile and your kink profile do not match)

Category 3) Maybe (meaning I need to investigate this further)

Category 4) I would like to get to know you

Obviously, people moved from one category to the next as the process continues. It makes it very hard to vet someone in my Category 4 if I am in their category 1.

So, what is vetting?

Vetting is, according to the dictionary, to “make a careful and critical examination of (something)”.

I’m going to be honest…that is a very broad term. It is also extremely vague. When I first read it, I imagined a person laid out on a table and I carefully and meticulously examined them with a magnifying glass. Then I laughed a bit at the absurdity of my thoughts.

Vetting is essentially getting to know someone and make an informed decision about whether they are honest or not.

I have always preferred to get to know someone without the kinks first. I need to know that I can enjoy your company in a vanilla setting as well as a kinky one. Even though I live 24/7, it is not an endless dream of whips and chains. It involves chores to keep the house running, work to keep a roof over our head, postponement of my needs to serve my partners, and a whole lot of cuddling. If I cannot tolerate you in that part of my life, then all the kinks/skills in the world would not change our incompatibility.

There are a few ways to start the vetting process.

First, I would look through their online persona. If you have them across platforms, see if their posts and/or their style of writings are consistent. You can evaluate how ever you like. For me, are all their posts angry or blaming people for things? Do our politics match up or do they at least seem tolerant of other viewpoints? DO they act thirsty with every man or woman they are attracted to?
Talk to previous play partners or the community. Honestly speaking, I usually skip this step. I have always been in a small kink community and that often leads to skewed answers. It is perfectly fine if you choose to not pursue person X because person Y said they were bad news. I know that for some individuals, this has been tremendously helpful.

However, I have also seen the opposite. In fact, my own dynamic with Master has fed the rumour mill. Did you know I am always in trouble? Apparently so. Those long-lasting marks could never actually be the result of pleasure (*gasp* Shocking, I know). Did you know that I am too bull-headed to be submissive? Obviously, I must be extremely unsatisfying to my Dominant.

I am, and always have been, an open book. You want to know something, ask. I have never had an issue with that. Its when people add their own spin to the story, after I have given my answer, that makes me cringe. Both of those questions came from a brat who wanted to know how to get her Dom’s attention because she felt he was ignoring her. I advised her that communication was key. She needed to sit down and talk with him. I am not a brat. I am offended at the implication of being one. It goes against all my beliefs as a submissive. But, she did not like my answer. She then proceeded to tell anyone that would listen that I was a brat, and an unhelpful one at that.

I have been accused of Topping from the bottom because I can get forceful in making sure Master takes care of himself. I have been told (by outsiders) that I am not dedicated enough because I am not home enough. Which, on a side note, just fuels my insecurities. So, thank you. I have been asked how I can “let Him do that?” We have blanket consent, including Edge play and CNC. You don’t have to like it, but I sure do.

All I am trying to say is, there are two sides to every story. People like to gossip. People like to put other people down to feel better. So, maybe what they are saying, should be taken with a grain of salt.

Do not assume anything. Listen to what the person says versus what they do. Does what they are saying match what they have put out into the public? If not, ask. If they cannot give you a satisfactory answer, trust your gut. If they make you feel negative energy, walk away. If you see/feel red flags, walk away.

Do their kinks match yours? Now, we get to the good stuff. Since you have gotten to step 4, you are probably compatible in the Vanilla world, and they do not give you the creepy crawlies, its time to find out if the things they like match yours. Discuss both of your limits, must haves, needs, wants, safewords, dynamic wants/needs, and everything in between. Be practical. Be willing to compromise or walk away. It would not be fair if one party wants a 24/7 dynamic and the other wants a long-distance, weekend getaway dynamic. They are both valid wants, but not very compatible.

Safety. If, and when, you get to the point of meeting (if you haven’t already), please do so safely. Meet in public. Make sure at least two people know when and where you are going to be, who you are with, and when you plan to check in. If I tell my safety that I will text her by 8, at 8:01 she is calling me to make sure I just didn’t lose track of time. Take your own car or have your own ride. Sometimes, situations get sticky and we just need to get away. If your date picked you up, you can feel very stuck.

In the end, vetting is necessary to finding the right partner(s). It takes a special breed to give us the communication, trust, and vulnerability needed to make this lifestyle work. The minute I consent to you binding me, I am trusting you with my mental and physical health. I am trusting you with my life.

Therefore, you are going to have to bear with me and play a few rounds of twenty questions before I let you anywhere near me.

How To Whip Yourself

November 14, 2020 By Dame TylerRose. 2 Comments

I frequently see questions about how to play by one’s self. In this day and age of plague, it’s particularly important to take care of our own needs. I have always been able to do so, not relying on a partner to give me the pleasures I like most.

This third self-play article will cover an easy impact technique anyone can use with a belt, flogger, and even a short single tail.

First, get a leather belt. If you don’t already have one in your play kit, you can get an inexpensive one from any decent clothing store. Target regularly has them for under twenty dollars. I have found beautifully broken in belts at thrift stores also. They clean up easily enough with soap and water and some shea butter or coconut oil for conditioner.

The length of the belt doesn’t really matter so long as it’s not too long. Something in the 30 to 36 inch range is fine. When folded over, it will be the perfect length.

Standing is a better position so you can swing freely and not smack the bed, chair or sofa. But on your knees on a bed works too.

Start off swinging around your ribs to your back. You may be surprised how much effort is needed to give yourself a good smack. It can be a pretty decent arm workout.

Then over your shoulders. The movies make it look so easy, don’t they?

Inner thighs are right there. Buttocks, back of thighs. Varying the speed changes up the force of impact.

A broken-in belt is easier than a new one, but a new one will be broken in after a few sessions. A studded belt adds another degree of intensity. Some people I know have liked to use the buckle end rather than the leather in the middle. Give it a try; see if you agree.

A game I have played:

Sit down to watch a show on regular television. Commercial comes on, pick up the belt and beat yourself with it until the show comes back. Sit back, watch the show. Commercial comes on, pick up the belt and beat yourself with it. The resting between lets the endorphins come forward into a delicious high – for me, at least. The high is my goal in the first place.

By the 45 minute mark, commercials created an almost Pavlovian response in me.

You can create your own games, such as “1 strike every time someone on a show says the word “the” or “and”, or says a particular character’s name. Then give yourself that many strikes at the next commercial break, or wait and add them all up when the show is over.

All of these things can be done with a short flogger also. Something fifteen to eighteen inches overall length will do. It needs to be hefty enough that the falls have impact. Too long and too thin is difficult to throw over one’s own shoulder and get the impact desired. Shorter is easier to control and strike where you want.

Guess what? You can use a short whip too! I bought a pair of mini snake whips from Highland Whip Design (Instagram – HighlandWhipDesign; Fetlife — https://fetlife.com/users/7280606) and they can absolutely be used to whip one’s self using the same around the ribs and over the shoulder techniques. In fact, while he was finishing them, I asked him if it would reach well for that and he did it on himself to confirm that, yes, absolutely, these will whip one’s own back.

Between these two how-to articles, you have four different implements you can use almost all over on your body. Start with the flogger for warming up. Move on to the belt and then the wooden spoon. Conclude with the whip for that final sharp sting. Hours of self-play are at your fingertips.

If you aren’t too hard on yourself, you can do this every day if you want.

——–

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and over 25 fiction books.

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

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

FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

Twitter — https://twitter.com/DameTyler or @DameTyler

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

Rewards vs. Recognition In Power Exchange

November 14, 2020 By Ms. Rika 2 Comments

hot submissive wanting to please her dominant — via stock.adobe.com

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’ve written, at length, about my approach when it comes to rewards and punishments. I don’t do either of those. I refer you to my other books for that discussion. However, I’ve also written about how a key responsibility of the dominant is to recognize the submissive’s efforts so that the submissive does not feel alone / abandoned in the dynamic.

Some people have argued that recognition of the submissive’s role and assessment of the quality of the job, is tantamount to a reward for the submissive. They feel that a dominant saying “good job” or “thank you for continuing to serve me” is a reward for their efforts.

I disagree with this notion. It’s true that submissives get pleasure and satisfaction from a dominant’s recognition, however, there is a strong distinction between rewards and recognition.

Though I don’t do rewards, I do a lot of recognition. My subs love that I recognize them and, in fact, recognition is a basic necessity of the dynamic. However the difference that I see, stems from dictionary definitions of the two words.

In my mind, the difference is as follows:

Recognition is personal praise or gratitude for good work and can be given at any time.

Rewards are tied to goals and accomplishments and are generally given up on completion.

I don’t reward goals / accomplishments because top-notch service is expected of my submissives. There is nothing “out of the ordinary” for submissives to work hard and complete a task, assignment, or even anticipate a need extremely well. If I set a goal for a submissive, they strive to achieve it, primarily to please me.

I do however, provide personal praise for their efforts and also will show my gratitude for their continued submission. Note: As in my essay on “Saying Please and Thank You”, I choose to show my gratitude that my submissives continue to choose to serve me each day…as they show theirs to me for allowing them to do so. If a sub does a great job of anticipating something for me, and removes an obstacle before I have to face it, I’m both grateful and generous with my praise.

Just because someone enjoys recognition and gets something out of it (e.g., Pride, sense of accomplishment, and affirmation of the dynamic), doesn’t make it a reward. A reward is linked (in my vernacular), to completion of goals or milestones. Rewards are more: Do this, and get that” – “Get this because you did that”. It’s motivations and incentives.

Herein lies my issue with rewards. I question why a sub would need more motivation / incentive than serving their dominant well and receiving acknowledgment of a job well done. A pleased and satisfied dominant is the objective of their submission, so why would it take anything more or less than that to motivate the best possible service? I’m suspect when that isn’t enough.

Recognition, on the other hand, is one of the most important, and often neglected responsibilities that a dominant takes on in my methodology. Recognizing when your submissive is striving to meet your expectations and fulfill your preferences, is important in letting them know that you’re active and present in the dynamic. It doesn’t take a lot to recognize a sub: Just a “Good job serving me” or an “I see how you did that for me, and I liked it” go a long way. I like to have my sub thank me for doing things for me: A little bit of irony goes a long way. These are really simple, no effort things that just say, “I’m here, I’m present, and I see your effort”.

As far as I’m concerned, recognition is a must. I recognize my subs as often as possible. I prefer higher volume of lower effort recognition. Reward, on the other hand, is unnecessary and often counter productive; as it tends to distract submissives from their ultimate motivation – that of pleasing their dominant by fulfilling their expectations.

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

This week in kink: November 16, 2020

November 14, 2020 By Dexx 2 Comments

Most things including The Porn Industry have been altered due to the Covid-19 Crisis.

This week, New Statesman gives us the skinny on the rise of OnlyFans during the pandemic and what that means on a grander level.

Click below to find out more!

Dutch News reports that all non-consensual sexual acts will now be considered rape.

In our opinion this is great news because rape and/or molestation can be so much more than violent sexual acts and/or attempts. Rape and molestation truly come down to non-consensual sexual behavior.

This is definitely a step in the right direction. Click below to find out more!

All non-consensual sex to be classed as rape in new law

For so many BDSM can help with PTSD, anxiety, OCD, etc.

This week, Huff Post brings us a story about how Kate O’Kelly used BDSM to take control of her life after her assault.

Click below to learn more about this powerful story!

HuffPost is now a part of Verizon Media

HuffPost is part of Verizon Media. We and our partners will store and/or access information on your device through the use of cookies and similar technologies, to display personalised ads and content, for ad and content measurement, audience insights and product development.

www.huffingtonpost.co.uk

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

Erotica: The Fight Within

November 7, 2020 By Joji Sada 2 Comments

hot sexy male submissive with leather harness — via stock.adobe.com

***all pieces of erotica are works of fiction. We never condone anything that is NOT consensual, safe, ethical, or sane.

I need to specify to those reading this, that playing during high emotion can be dangerous. You can miss verbal/body cues, overlook a safeword, or face the issue of potentially blacking out/disassociating.

I wrote this to explore parts of my psyche I’ve yet to delve into. But I also wrote this to someone with whom I trust my life.

The goal of delving into the darker parts of the mind, is to learn. There is more revealed in the unconscious mind than in any other medium.

Even if I never delve into this scenario in person, I will have revealed everything I need to…subconsciously. Master has told me, on more than one occasion, that my writing gives him insight because I pour myself into it. It is the same reason he refuses to read unfinished work and offer suggestions. If he did, it could influence me.

I explore darkness only with someone who can bring me back into the light. I explore brokenness only with someone who can piece me back together. I explore emotional fuckery only with someone who will not be crushed beneath the weight of it.

What you choose to do is your decision. Just know, if you cannot separate what is done in a scene from what happens in real life, your relationship can be irrevocably changed or damaged.

You once told me, Sir, that I push your boundaries unlike anyone else.

I had to think about that. At first glance, it looks as though I lack respect for your limits. But, when we talked about it, you told me it meant I pushed you as you push me.

We have successfully faced quite a few demons and delved into some dark places.

We have moved seamlessly from physical pain to mental and we continue to push against what is deemed as safe and sane.

We are risk takers Sir. I’d have it no other way.

With that in mind, I wish to request a new boundary to be explored.

I want you to make me angry Sir.

I want you to throw me against the proverbial wall and help me bring the bricks down.

I want to feel the thrum of adrenaline and the fire in my veins.

I want to fight you.

I want to growl and scream and cry.

I want you to take me down without mercy.

Are you willing to brave this with me Sir? Are you willing to catch me on the other side as I come down? Are you willing to help me deal with the guilt when this is done?

Are you willing and able to keep me sane without losing yourself in the process?

We don’t play angry. We have always refused to play during any heavy influx of emotions.

Tonight, I want that to change.

Please, Sir?

You are a crafty bastard Sir. When I asked for an emotionally charged scene, I did not expect you to have me set it up.

You know how much I hate making decisions.

I know you’re fucking with me. But I also know you want to understand how far to push me.

See, you can read me my body like no other. But what I choose at the beginning, gives you an idea of how far to go.

I understand it. I just don’t like it.

I knew the two fastest ways to anger without conflict.

Step one: My song. On repeat. Seven minutes of mesmerizing lyrics that take me over.

You can see the change in me. There is a reason I rarely play this song. It stirs my mind like a woman possessed. It makes me feel…violent.

Step two: Handcuffs

We both know the cuffs alone will make me fight. I tried breaking the kitchen chair last time we used them.

This time, you were smarter.

You locked one wrist in front of me, pulled the chain between my legs, and locked the other one. Then you pulled the leg irons chain over the cuffs and pulled them down and around the leg of the bedframe.

I am technically free to move within a small area. With difficulty, I can switch from kneeling to sitting but little else is possible.

You snap your fingers.

I Breathe deeply. We are about to begin.

You want me immersed.

I sit down on my ass, my knees bent and my hands loosely hanging. My top half is bare, and the room is chilly. My fingers are playing with the soft fabric of my leggings already. Can you see my anxiety already Sir? I don’t think I have hidden it very well.

The leg irons pull against my ankles. I have twisted the chain already, but I refuse to say anything. I will deal with this.

I look up at you. I am scared Sir.

For all my bravado, I do not like being angry. I know that I could hurt someone. I know that I could hurt you if I sink too far. I feel very small for asking for this.

You read me so well. You look deep into my eyes, my lip trembling, and you run your fingers through my hair. It soothes me. I close my eyes to revel in it and you backhand me.

We’ve started.

From this point, you won’t let up until you are ready…or I color.

Would that be wrong? To color on a scene I’ve requested?

You will tell me that it is not wrong. And I know for damn sure, we would never be trying this if you didn’t trust me to speak up when needed.

Those thoughts cross my mind all the time.

So, let’s see what happens Sir.

Are you ready?

I am waiting for the music to start.

“Are you ready for this?”. You ask only once.

You are giving me an out.

I inhale deeply. I don’t want it.

“Press play” I state firmly.

Without another word, you press play. I know we have put the song on repeat for the length of the disc. It will continue to ramp me up until it is turned off.

The headphones are immersion ones. They close me off from the outside world. All I can hear is the music.

Then, you leave.

I fucking hate being alone. I get antsy and worried and scared.

Forty-five seconds in. My eyes close of their own volition.

1 and a half minutes in. I can feel my face contorting into a smirk.

2 minutes. My lips move unconsciously to mouth the dark words. You were smart Sir. By using the instrumental track, with only the backup vocals, I can sink ever so further. The ability to sing along and keep myself distracted from the emotion is no longer an option.

My chin drops to my chest. I roll my neck to one side and slowly to the other. I can feel the cracking of the bones.

3 minutes. My heart is pounding. My eyes are open and unseeing. My head cocks to the side, glaring into the nothingness.

Four minutes. Even though I know I shouldn’t, I start rubbing the cuff rings.

The cuffs are cool to my thumbs as I rub the metal.

My thoughts are dark Sir; and sneaky.

We are halfway through the first play of the song. The bass drum is beating loud. I am tugging more frantically at my cuffs now. I feel them pulling against my hands.

I am going to bruise.

I am watching the door. I’m determined to be free by the time you come back. I plan to tackle you. I’m going to take you to the floor and have you beg me for mercy.

I can do it.

I smirk.

If not, I will go down fighting.

I was unprepared for the mask Sir. As soon as the darkness descended, I started bucking. You appeared from nowhere.

Were you watching me? Where? I could not see you.

Why would you hide Sir?

Are you scared of me?

Won’t you let me free Sir?

I can do such wondrous things to you.

After all, you cannot see the fire in my eyes with a hood on.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

Whatever shall we do Sir? Won’t you let me out to play?

You have turned the volume up. I can feel the vibrations across the whole of my ears. I feel the zipper on the hood open across my mouth. I strike forward to bite you.

Rule number 2 in our dynamic. I am never to bite.

I’ve just declared war.

I am pulling roughly at the handcuffs. If I can shift the bed frame, then you have no chance.

I feel your hand grip the back of my neck, as though you were planning to lift me. You press my body forward. Your other palm presses harshly against my mouth and pinches my nose through the hood. I did not even have a chance to take a breath. I’m trying to wrestle free. I can hear the clanking of the metal over the music. I feel like a feral animal trying to free itself. My head is locked into place by your strength.

I am going to pass out.

Then, you let me breathe.

Or so I thought.

One big breath is all I managed before you shoved the gag between my teeth. You made sure I would be able to breathe by picking the ball gag with holes. But it clearly tells me that talking is out of the question.

Good.

If you want an answer, you are gonna need to read my fucking mind.

Sir.

I feel the chain go slack for a split second. You must have lifted the corner of the bed. I pull quickly and round my head in what I believe is your direction. It connects with something. I turn the other direction and roll onto my back. I know I cannot run with the way I am chained. But I do have enough room to kick you.

I kick out, low to the ground, and my foot connects. I know instantly I have hit too low. Your boots hurt quite a bit when kicked with bare feet. I aim higher but I feel your hand grab my ankles. My arms are stretched as you hold me tight.

Then the blows start.

A firm smack right onto my ass.

I hate this position. I hate having my legs in the air like a baby. It is humiliating…and you know it. That is exactly why you do it.

Two. Three. Four.

In such quick succession, I cannot catch my breath or bearings.

Five hits me full force to the top of my pussy.

Fuck. I guarantee you heard that through the gag.

Six. Seven. Eight.

Harder and harder you hit my ass. My body is trying to rock against the floor. Anything I can do to get free. I am not fairing so well at that.

Nine is a firm kick to the ass by your boot.

God Dammit.

Ten reigns down on my pussy once more. Pretty sure I am going to be icing for days at this point.

You drag me by my ankle across the carpet until we meet linoleum. You roll me over in one smooth motion and use the leverage of the chain to pull my knees up under me. My ass is now in the air and my face is pressed to the cold floor. My shoulders are burning, and my wrists are swollen. I am biting down on the rubber of the gag so hard I am expecting it to split.

I feel a heavy thud against my thighs. Oh god, not that one. I hate it.

Five thwacks, each getting harsher and harsher. The hood is wet now. It clings to my eyes as they water, and I have soaked the bottom half with my spit.

I keep trying to shift away from the blows. For a masochist, I move a lot Sir. Have you ever noticed that?

Five more and I am sobbing. My legs are shaking to the point that I cannot hold them up anymore. Then again, as soon as I started to drop them, I felt it.

You finally unsheathed the knife you were hitting me with.

The broad side of the blade is cool against my skin. I feel its tip at my belly button, with the rest of the length sliding down to my pussy. It is your warning to keep my position.

And it is my chance to end it.

Not a chance in hell Sir.

Is that all you’ve got?

My legs are trembling. I feel like I have been at the gym for a couple hours on a treadmill. I feel the knife sliding against my skin. I am trying to hold still. I know there will be marks. Even the dullest of your knives leave me with welts.

Ever so slowly, the tip slides down between my legs. I feel you grab the crotch of my leggings and I feel the sharp tug as you slice them. The knife leaves my skin for just a moment and I feel your fists shred my clothes the remaining in bit. I can only feel them clinging to me from my calves to my ankles. Then the blade is back.

You are cruel Master. I am trying to focus on where the blade is at, but the music is distracting me too much. If I had to guess, knowing the marks it will leave, I am positive you are drawing little smiley faces that I will be staring at in the mirror for the next week.

I am not amused!

But I can imagine the smirk you must be wearing at your own ingenuity.

I feel the tip slide down my thighs and to my calves. I feel the rest of my leggings fall from my body.

Time is relative in the dark. I lost count of the amount of times my song has played. I know my ass stings. I have no idea how long you have been marking me with that blade. I know it periodically slides between the lips of my vagina and I hold my breath every time. I know my jaw aches from the gag and my neck is sore from being on the floor in this position. My shoulders still burn, and my body shakes from either adrenaline or cold. Of which I am not entirely sure.

But I want more Sir.

When you have finished with the blade, I feel you give me one last whack with it after you sheathed it and I felt your breath light up the cuts along my backside.

Gently, you pull me up to my knees and let me lean my head against your legs. The music is turned down until it is a mere whisper. It stays constant, and I still cannot hear you, but it curbs the adrenaline.

You pick me up to standing but my legs cannot hold me. So, you leave me kneeling and drag me to wherever you desire me to be. You bend me over the bed. It keeps me kneeling but puts the pressure on my abdomen instead of my knees. I put my forehead against the softer surface.

Your hand is rubbing my ass. It feels nice.

Then I feel the cold. You just dumped ice water down my back, across my ass, and over my legs. My body tenses instantly. We both know I do not do well with temperature change.

This is new.

And then I understand why you turned the music down.

POP

Fuck.

It is the fucking cattle prod.

Yes, it hurts. But it is the sound that gets me.

Once to the thigh. It travels with the water as it drips down my skin.

Then you set it off near my ear. I jumped and thrashed.

Another to the ass. The knife marks light up with the electricity.

Did you know open wounds increase the intensity of the shocks? Of course you did. This is your favorite. To watch me bend and bow to the lightning. To watch me shiver from the cold, or is that fear?

One. Two.

POP. This one doesn’t touch me but I can hear it near my face.

Three.

POP.

Four. Five.

POP. This time I hear it behind my neck

Then one long intense one between my legs. I screamed with that one.

POP. I can hear it again, but I cannot tell where it is coming from. This time I hear it and it is followed by a smack to my ass. It must be the belt.

I cannot hold back the cries anymore.

Smack.

POP.

Silence.

Where am I Sir?

I am very, very cold and I cannot open my eyes.

My ears are buzzing but there is no defining sound. My body is shivering but I feel a warm hand on my stomach and one in my hair.

My heart has slowed.

My mind is jumbled and dark. I’m not really sure what is going on.

I don’t know how long it took but my eyes finally flutter open. It takes several tries. The room is very bright, even though we have black out curtains up.

I finally open my eyes and I see Master there. I am laying on my back with my head in his lap. He is watching me. He seems worried.

I see his lips moving but I cannot understand what he is saying.

Everything is a blur, but I can guess what happened.

I stare up at him with a soft smile. I am in the safest place right now.

He is waiting for an answer.

I know the question.

“My name is Joji.” I see him breathe a little easier.

He brushes my hair from my face and rubs soft circles on my tummy with his thumb.

“And my name?” The question sounds so soft to me, but I can hear him again.

“Master.” As I see him smile, I know that we are both going to be fine.

Erotica: Alex And Her Master- An NC Fantasy: Chapter 2

November 1, 2020 By J S Phoenix 2 Comments

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

***all pieces of erotica are based on safe, sane, and consensual practices. We never condone anything that is NOT consensual.

Want to read chapter 1? Click here

From last time: Alex, the pretty blonde girl in the scoop-necked red dress, was taken from behind…

I’m being kidnapped!

A minute later, perhaps two, she felt the motion as the tow-truck drove away.

Alex squirmed to get comfortable. Her bound arms hurt no matter how she moved, and she couldn’t move much. She decided she’d be satisfied if she could simply become less uncomfortable.

Satisfaction eluded her, though. Soft tears trickled down her face, more from her reflections than the pain of her bonds. As the truck traveled further, she thought her bound limbs might grow numb.

No luck there, either.

The week’s events invaded her mind, forcing her, against her will, to relive the chain of events that brought her here. Trapped beyond hope, bound and gagged, stuffed into the trunk of her own car on this fateful Friday.

On Thursday night, he’d broken up with her. Crushed her heart with cruel words. And things only got worse after that. In keeping with management-manuals the world over, she’d learned at noon today, Friday, that she had lost her job. She’d left in tears upon receiving the news, unable to disguise her misery, forgetting entirely about cleaning out her desk. The fact that she had been handed a severance check meant that the firing had been more than days in planning, and all the while everyone had smiled at her as if nothing was amiss.

So Alex drove out to the old farm. She had no idea who owned the land, and it hadn’t been worked in years. Something about that old barn had intrigued her since she had been a little girl, and she often went there to think, to ponder. Today, to brood.

And, as it turned out, to be kidnapped.

More tears trickled down her cheek. She preferred tears to terror, and Alex felt near enough to terrified as it was.

Just as she thought she might get her nerves under control, the truck slowed, turned, and pulled to a stop. Alex had lost track of time. When the trunk popped open, she saw that the sun had gone down. Alex squirmed. Somehow her bonds hurt more now than at any time since her abduction.

He looked down into the trunk.

“Still nice and secure, I see,” he said with a slight smirk in his voice. “Have a good trip?”

Alex tried to glare at him, but her courage withered when she looked in his eyes. His stare transformed her into the proverbial headlight-frozen deer. He clicked a fob in his pocket; Alex heard a door open. He leaned down, picked her up as if she weighed nothing, and carried her to what she discovered was a rental van.

He laid her on the floor, securing her bound form to cargo hooks with straps, then pulled a safety net over her. Finally, he piled several shipping blankets over her.

“Don’t struggle. Just lie still, and you’ll be able to breathe.”

Alex struggled anyway. She wondered whether he was watching her as she writhed uselessly. When it became hard to breathe, she stopped fighting her bonds.

“I told you, girl. Don’t make me punish you.”

His words chilled her to her core; Alex shuddered.

Alex heard the van door close, and then her car starting. She feared being abandoned in this van … where the hell was she? More tears came as she realized that even if she could get loose, she almost certainly couldn’t escape.

She heard her car shut down, and then her captor entered the van.

To be continued…

Thanks for reading. If you’d like to read (non-serialized) stories I’ve written, please come visit: https://tinyurl.com/yycvsgr6

I’ve been writing erotica–niche adult fantasy (C/NC and N/C)–for the enjoyment of my readers for a number of years. My greatest reward comes from knowing the pleasure my words bring to my readers. If you want to let me know how you liked this story, feel free to drop me a line here: j.s.phoenix.1975@gmail.com

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