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What Happened Last Week

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

This week, I decided to share a true story. I often get asked what life is like for my submissive hubby. I’ve  talked about his birthday celebrations in the past…days dedicated to tweaking his fantasies for him. But  the following happened last week, which is kind of normal for us, and I thought I’d write it down in prose form for my readers.  

NOTE: I run the risk of hokey dialog, but I don’t know any other way of depicting what happened. The  exact words might not be these, but they do capture the gist – forgive me if it ends up reading like a  letter to Penthouse: 

I told him to kneel, and he dropped immediately. 

I didn’t find his compliance surprising. It was rather expected; the result of 15 days of edging and denial.  He was surely aching, although he never would complain. But when I “accidentally” allowed my hand to  brush his crotch, his involuntary gasp and sigh gave him away. I could almost see his knees buckle. I  figured I might as well help him out. 

I knew he was almost at the point of losing reason. I was stretching his self-control – testing his will to  remain obedient. Desperation is a regular state of mind for him, so I knew his resolve would win out.  Still, this was the perfect time to tighten the noose, so he was going to need to experience how well I  understood the condition I was cultivating in him.  

To increase desperation, make the sub talk.  

“Tell me what you want”, I looked down at him and he averted my gaze. I put my index finger under his  chin and lifted his face so I could stare deeply into his eyes. “Tell me what you want. I want to hear it from you”. 

“I’d like to please you. Make you scream.”, he said. “Make you scream” is our “lingo” for oral sex. I knew  that he was being “good” and making it about me – and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. 

“Is that all?” 

“No Goddess. I’d also like to come…please” he closed his eyes. 

“Please? Are you begging me?  

“Yes, Goddess. Please” 

I laughed a bit and played it up: “Do you call that begging? I don’t think you’re serious enough. Maybe  you haven’t gone long enough. Maybe a couple of more weeks?” I knew he was truly desperate and that  his brain was clearly unable to fathom reason. What a perfect time to make him panic! 

“No please…please. I beg of you. I beg you to please let me come. I can’t take any more of this…I mean, I  will if you want me to, but please don’t want me to!”

I turned sideways in front of him and lifted the bottom of my blouse from my pants. I watched as his  eyes sunk into my backside, loving the sleek look of my leathers. I swear I saw him tremble. 

“Kiss my ass while you beg. Maybe I’ll do what you ask!” – I actually do sometimes give him what he  wants, so it wasn’t an empty possibility. 

He fell into my body immediately. I felt his hands grab my hips and pull his face close to my ass. Then I  felt desperate kisses, creating tiny circles on my ass cheeks, moving around until finally his face buried  itself into the crack of my ass, pressing against the material of my pants. 

I pushed him back. “Where is your discipline? Slow kisses…gently…around my entire ass”. He was going  to have to control himself. 

He struggled to calm down. When I let him go, I felt his lips press against the cheeks of my ass, giving soft gentle kisses in concentric circles. 

“Don’t get my slacks wet!” Always making sure he stayed focused. Give him something else to think  about – in this case, keeping his kisses dry. Leather…focus…More desperation. 

“Oh…see? You CAN do it!”. I gave him some time to continue his efforts – testing to see if he’d tire. But  he continued to gently kiss. I knew he was struggling to keep his composure – binding his own hands  behind his back with his will. Exhibiting the self-discipline he knows I demand in hopes of gaining my favor. 

As he continued to kiss, I popped my hip out to the side, giving him a nice “S-Curve” to look at. “Tell me  what you want, slave”.  

Between his kisses, he sputtered, “Please, please…oh God…please, please let me please you!”. He was  regaining his rational mind. Trying to position his need in terms that would be about me, rather than his  selfish needs. I decided to test that a bit more. 

“Rub yourself”, I softly demanded. I heard him moan and shift and play with himself, careful not to  break the rhythm of his kisses. “You want to make me come? I might let you do that for me. Would that  make you happy?” 

“Yes…yes. Please, Goddess. Please”.  

I stepped away and slowly turned to face him. 

“Look at you! On your knees, playing with yourself like a schoolboy! Don’t forget to play with your balls  too…pull them down. Oh, You poor desperate thing. You ARE desperate, aren’t you?” 

He was going to have to admit it out loud. His own words are so much more powerful for driving him  into his subspace than any others. 

“God yes! Please. I beg you! I’m desperate!” His rubbing increased tempo. 

“And who made you desperate?”, I prompted his demise. 

“You…you made me desperate” 

“Me? You allow me to control you like that? Why?”

“Because it pleases you and I’m your slave.” 

I chuckled. Then came that perfect moment. 

“Please Goddess, may I please stop masturbating – I will come if I continue” 

Music to my ears! As instructed, as trained: The “Please Stop Me From Orgasming” rule is always in  effect. Even though he so badly wants to come, he exhibited perfect self-control. Rather than begging  me to come, he is instructed to beg me NOT to let him…even at his own hand. Total control because it’s  all in his mind. 

“Yes, slave. You may stop”, I calmly responded. 

He let go of himself and slumped forward, catching himself with his hand against the ground. “Thank  you, Goddess” 

I walked closer to him and straddled his head, squeezing it gently between my legs. “You’re welcome,  my pet!” I heard him inhale. I let him stay there for a moment, knowing that the smell of my leather  slacks would further drive his journey down. I stepped back. 

“Kneel up – hands behind your head” 

He assumed the position immediately, breathing heavily. A strand of precome stretched between the tip  of his penis and the small puddle on the floor. He was clearly ripe and ready. Poor baby. 

I walked over to the couch and motioned for him to crawl to me. I had him take my pants and  underwear down while I played with his hair. I let him kiss my belly and slowly work his way down to my  pubic bone. 

I put my hand on his forehead and pushed it backwards so he was looking up to me. Our eyes locked. “What do you want?” I asked again. 

“Oh God, please let me eat you!”, he was delirious, deliciously desperate and perfectly hard. 

I sat back on the couch and let him get close to me. I put my legs over his shoulders and shifted upwards towards him. 

“Take your time. Serve me well” I instructed.  

He was talented at oral sex when I first met him, and has been a very attentive student through the  years – a great combination. His only wish is to get as close to perfect for me as he can. I’m more than  willing to help him, although I openly admit, there are times when he does things I can’t explain – but  want again! 

He gave me two orgasms: The first a slow, long, drawn out, warm-me-all-over come; the second far  sharper and more sudden. It was all I could do to let him maintain connection when the second one crested. 

I looked down at him. He was so content and yet, so wanting. His erection had not faded throughout. I wanted that inside of me.

“Put it in”, I directed. He quickly slid into me. I was so open and ready. He slumped down against my  chest, kissing and nuzzling my neck as he thrust against me. We were hitting a rhythm and I could feel  his desire. I love that animal drive. 

He was getting close, I could feel him swelling inside of me. Then, dutifully, he offered his ultimate  submission, yet again: “Please let me stop”, he groaned out. 

I considered the moment while he hung on the edge – awaiting permission to not come; I just LOVE that  irony. I let him stew for a moment, well-aware that I was playing with fire. I could feel him slow down,  just a bit, holding himself just short of going too far, but not wanting to stop without permission. So  dutiful a servant, even under such desperate conditions. 

“OK…you can stop”, I “relented”. 

I could feel him collapse inside. I watched as he delicately and carefully stopped all motion, allowed  himself a moment to recompose, and then slowly and carefully, pull himself out. 

“And?” I inquired. 

“Thank you, Goddess”, he mustered, trying to sound as sincere as possible. I’m sure the word “Bitch” was on his tongue tip at that moment – so I gave him some leeway despite him seeming a bit insincere. 

“You’re welcome, puppy!” I rubbed his hair as he slipped down to a low kneel. “You can finish me now”,  I leaned back and pulled his head once again to my pussy. He ate me deep and hard, his desperation  driving him beyond. “Oh…you serve me SO well, slave”, I gave him encouragement and recognition. He  just moaned and delivered. It was heaven. 

The final orgasm was another long and warm, full-body toe-curler. By the time we were done, I could  tell that he was getting back into full sub-mode; no longer disappointed that he didn’t orgasm, but  rather loving the fact that the steady ache in his groin was making his head so much more subby. 

It was time to give him a treat – something that he loves that will help him firmly establish his sub space…just for him. For my sub, the best gifts have to do with my feet. I stood up next to him, stepped  into a puddle of his precome so that it squished into my toes, and lifted them to his mouth so he could  clean them. I repeated the process until all the puddles were just wet-spots. He dove into this task with  enthusiasm and gratitude. 

When he was done, I stood him up and gave him a big kiss. Then I told him that I was going to take a  shower and that he should put on some shorts, run my water, and turn the towel-heater on. Then he  could go make dinner. 

He thanked me (quite sincerely) and went off to the bathroom. 

As I readied myself for my shower, I considered how lucky I am to have such a diligent and devoted  submissive. I know he feels lucky too. For him, there’s no telling how many days of this type of close-call  T&D I will put him through. Sometimes I let him come right away – other times, this type of “scene” could last weeks. He never knows. Sometimes, I don’t even know until the moment comes.

Last week, he “suffered” for three more days of edging (a total of 18 days), before I finally allowed him  to orgasm onto my feet (and eat it up). Then I gave him 10 minutes to recover and then it was a night of  massage and service – right back “on the horse” – no slacking off, just because the desperation is gone. 

This is our life together. We both couldn’t be happier. I’m glad to share a little episode!

 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

Erotica: The Center Of The Circus

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I am a quiet and well-behaved slave.  This is especially true in public.  I do not speak beyond what is required of me as a hostess or unless directly addressed.  I stay as close to Master’s side as possible while still fulfilling the tasks he has set forth when we have guests.  I work to negotiate for Master when newer individuals get on the table, clean up between bottoms (and after the festivities), and I make sure Master is fed and hydrated.  I monitor the unattached bottoms who visit, and I have my own gaggle of littles that I babysit.

While I am often busy keeping everything running smoothly, Master is often busy introducing individuals to electroplay.

To say we rarely get play time at a public event is an understatement.  And when we do, it is reserved for the end of the night.  Considering how much Sadomasochism is in our play, there are two factors we must consider.

Factor number one is Master’s energy level.  He plays with twenty to thirty people prior to me.  While more than half of the scenes are under 15 minutes, the up and down of the endorphins and adrenaline wears Him down considerably.

Factor number two is how many people, at the party, are new.  It seems like an odd thing to factor into our play, doesn’t it?  Theoretically, the only people who matter in a scene are the participants.  But, in the real world, that is not the case.   

We play rough.  We play heavy.  I have yet to safeword.  And it scares people.

So, if we do scene, it is always at the end of the night, when most of the new people have left.

We play late to protect ourselves.

But, when we do, we become the center of our own circus.

Master thrives on the crowd.  It is as though he absorbs the energy put out by them and channels it into his implements.  I am sure I have seen his eyes glow from that same energy.

So, sit back, boys and girls, and let me tell you the story of a Sadistic Ringmaster.

I have been watching you for hours Sir.  Over and over, men and women willingly put themselves on your table and cross.  I watch your eyes light up with pleasure and the sinister smile slowly take over.  Your creativity is beyond bounds.  I have yet to see the same scene twice, even with tastings.

I never know quite what to expect.  We have never played in public before Sir and my nerves are getting the best of me.  You’ve told me that it was my choice to play or not.  I know you want me up there, but I also know you will stand by your word.

It has taken most of the night, but I am ready to do this.

I can hear the shouts of the one in front of me.  He is a masochist that I have seen you play with him before.  He likes it hard and fast.  I can tell, even from here, that he will have welts for a couple of days.  I find it amusing when he climbs the cross.  For being cuffed, he is quite flexible.

I wait until you have stepped away and the cross is empty.  I see you cleaning everything you used.  My stomach is in my throat, and I am struggling to find my voice.

I silently move to cross, standing slightly behind you to your left.  I wait patiently for you to acknowledge me.  It takes a few minutes.  I wonder briefly if you have left me waiting on purpose, just to fuck with me.  

“Hello, sweetie.”

“Hi Sir.”

“Is everything alright?”  You turn to face me completely.  Your hand rests on my shoulder and you give it a soft squeeze.

“Yes, Sir.”  Deep Breath.  “Will you flog me on the cross?”  My insides are shaking.  Why is it so hard to do this in public?

You raise an eyebrow.  Without hesitation, you tell me to step up to the cross.  I stand there for a minute, waiting.  I see you grab the first toy and I get a very wicked idea.

“Are you ready?” You ask.

“Don’t you want to tie me up Sir?”  

I see you smile.  The game has begun.

My shoulders are tense.  This is very new to me.  Here I am, cuffed to the cross, in just my panties, waiting for what will happen next.

This is the easy part.  I know better than to look.  I won’t know the implement until you use it.  How many do you think I can guess right?

Your body presses against my back.  Your hand curves around my neck, but no pressure is applied.  “Are you ready?”

Deep, shuddering breath.  “Yes, Sir.”

“Safe word?”

“Red for stop. Yellow for check-in.”

“Good girl.”

With that, you step back.  My body shivers in anticipation.  

The first strike of the flogger hurts.  I must force my shoulders to relax.  I know that the more tense I am, the more I could hurt myself.

My eyes close as you find your rhythm.  There is a steady heat building under my skin.  This isn’t so bad.  If I keep my eyes closed, I can forget everyone else is there.  I feel you pause every so often.  Sometimes your hands touch my skin and sometimes you switch the implements.  The floggers are steadily getting stingier.  

The room has fallen silent.  Or, at least, I cannot hear them anymore.  There is only white noise in my ears now.  My head feels like it is swimming.  My eyelids are heavy.  My mouth feels glued shut.  Even at the increasing pain, I have no drive to stop you.

Then there is a long pause.

I rest my forehead to the cool wood of the cross.  I steady my breathing and wait.  I can hear the murmurs of the people again, but I find I care far less now than I did at the start.

I don’t know how long you left me waiting.  Even with my eyes closed, I can feel your presence.  

Then, you shocked me.

Without any warning, I felt a firm whack to my ass.  It’s the paddle.

Fuck.  I hate those.

My eyes pop open, and my hands wrap around the chains holding me in place. “Fuuhhck.”

I hear you laugh.  It’s a dark and rich sound that cuts through the static.

Two.

Three.

Then you change it up again.

It’s always in threes.

I have lost count of the number of implements.  This is far from the flogging I initially asked for.  Then again, you have blanket consent to do as you please with this body.  And you never cease to surprise me.

Somewhere in between the paddles, you check in with me.  I know you expect me to be honest.  My body feels warm and on fire.  I feel invincible.

You ask me how I am doing.  

I turn my head until our eyes meet.  My answer shocks you.  “Is that all you’ve got, Magick?”  There is no Sir or Master.  I am challenging your reputation.  

Bring.

It.

On.

Master.

The gasp of the crowd cuts through the static.  I hear a lone voice warning me not to say that.  But it isn’t you.  

Our eyes stay locked for several moments.  You smile wide.  I think I have provoked the Dragon.

Well, there is no turning back now.

I break the eye contact, turning back to the cross, dropping my head, and baring my neck.

What have I done?

The room is silent.  I can feel the eyes of everyone on us.  I think I have shocked them Sir.  

Without warning, I feel something thin and stingy hit my ass.  Ow.  We just went from a 3 or 4 to a 7 on the pain scale.  I breathe deep.  This is what I asked for.

My eyes stay closed, and I scrunch up my face as I breathe through the pain.  This is what I was looking for Sir.  I wanted to see your Sadistic side.  I wanted to trigger the same intensity you give the other masochists.  I wanted you to use me without fear.

The strikes no longer come in threes, nor do they have the same rhythm.  I can tell you are still in control, but you want me to feel each strike.  Without a steady pattern, I cannot zone out.  I cannot sink into the sweet oblivion of sub space.

And you know it.

I lose track of time so easily under your touch.  I don’t know how long we have been at this.  My legs are starting to feel weak.  My ass feels as though it is on fire.  The only thing holding me up at this point is the tight grip I have on the chains.  

I am not ready for this to end.  I refuse to give after I issued a challenge.

I finally hear your voice, soft and gruff in my ear.  “How are you holding up?”

“Good, Sir.”

Your hand rests on the back of my neck.  It feels hot.

You step away and I mewl at the loss.

One.  

That one takes my breath away.  It was solid enough that I felt my body would go through the wall with the force.

Two.

Jesus Christ that hurt.  Whatever that was has me nearly biting through my tongue.

Three.  I have finally climbed the cross.  This is the devil.  I cannot feel the back of my thighs anymore.  What on Earth did you use, Sir?

My body sags.  I grit my teeth and lean against the wood.  I am near my breaking point.  But I do not want to stop Sir.  I want you to know I can take anything you are willing to give.  I cannot stop this.  I won’t.

I feel you against my back again.  Your body is solid as you pull me against you.  My head drops back onto your shoulder.  Your hands wrap around my torso and climb up to my nipples.  Your fingers tweak them, tugging and pulling.  All I can do is gasp.  There is so much pain on my backside and the combination of pain and pleasure from my nipples is going to drop me right here.  You tug them upward and bring me to my tip toes.

“You look so pretty when you climb the cross.”

I let out a soft gwaff.  I don’t even have the energy to laugh right now.

You let go of my nipples and your arms holds my waist to keep me upright.  “How are you pet?”

“I…I” Deep breath.  “I…am good Sir.”  I exhale loudly.  “May I have some water before we continue?”

“Let’s get you down pet and then I will get you some water.” 

“No, Sir.  Please.  We can continue.”

“Shh.  You have done well pet.”  I hear you ask someone to help undo the restraints.  

Once my arms are free, they drop heavily to my side.  I turn around in your embrace and rest my head on your chest.  I feel very floaty Sir, almost drunk.

And very sore.

All I can think is Thank you, Master.  That was one hell of a ride.

That was the first of many public play sessions.  When he finished checking on me, I can proudly tell you that I not only walked away from the cross on my own two feet, I went back to hosting duties after.  I was on a high for several days.  It also brought about one of the longest (and lowest) sub drops I had ever experienced.

I asked what those last three toys were.  The thick one that thudded (and felt like I would go through the floor) was a length of a fire hose.  For future reference, it has physically knocked me off a spanking bench and has quite the power behind it.  

The second toy (the sting that made me curse very loudly) was a length of weather stripping.  It is very, very painful.  It leaves wonderful marks.

The last (which made me climb the cross) is a serpentine belt.  It is my favorite toy (and has been since that day).  I learned during that session that the belt corners should be sanded down.  We ended up drawing blood on my thigh and it left a mark for nearly three months.  We honestly thought it would scar.

Please understand that our dynamic is a Total Power Exchange with blanket consent.  While I asked for a flogging for this scene, he decided to push my limits.  I wouldn’t change anything about this scene.  

That includes challenging him.

No one else has the balls to do that.  No one will go head-to-head with Master.  That’s what makes me special.  That is why I have the honor of wearing his collar.  He says I keep surprising him.

As I said at the beginning, I am generally a quiet and well-behaved slave.  But, when the lights come up and the Circus tents open, I get to challenge the Ringmaster at his own game.

And it keeps everyone coming back for more.

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.

Consent in a 24/7 TPE Power Exchange

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Everything in kink requires consent. It is only inside of consent that the activities we engage in can occur.  Without consent, many of the activities we engage in might in fact be considered crimes. From 1,000  feet away, that is certainly true. On the other hand, simple things, especially now that the nation is  opening up again and we are starting to hear about clubs and play spaces opening up again, engaging  with kinksters in a public space requires consent. “Is it ok if I do this ….?”  

Negotiating in pick up-play for instance, requires at the very minimum, that consent around hard limits  is discussed and agreed to, but what about consent in a 24/7 TPE dynamic? How is consent managed  where one person gifts their power to another.  

In our situation, I am a sensual sadist, and my partner is a submissive masochist. For me to be fully self expressed in my sexuality, I need her to operate as my uninhibited collared slut that gifts me her  submission with her consent. It is a given.  

The question that consideration raises though is how do I know I have her consent? Its not like we go  through a daily scene with me asking her with every action I take if I have her consent. So how do I know.  

One aspect of our dynamic is that we both operate with the full understanding that each of us is 100%  responsible for the health of the dynamic. That requires that each of us respond to any event, thought,  statement or suspicion that there is something perhaps out of sorts by addressing it immediately. We  also hold an especially important context of our dynamic at all times. That being that there is nothing  wrong. So if one of us sees or says something that raises concern, that awareness arises in context that  there is nothing wrong so we can deal with what’s actually so. We do not allow stories to enter into the  discussion. At first, as we were getting related and learning about each other’s habits and routines, we  had cause to have a conversation around this idea that “there is nothing wrong” and once we  established that as a context for our relationship, there have been few if any circumstances where we  would have to address each other from a place of mistrust.  

Another aspect of our dynamic is that we are both sex forward and kink forward. This is something that  was established even before we met. We both wanted to live in a dynamic that was highly sexualized.  The upshot of that is that we play almost daily. The result of having over 1,000 iterations of our kinky  sexuality expressed lives as lived is that we know each other pretty well. I know when I am pushing her  limits and I know when she is on the edge. I am responsible for keeping her on the edge and not taking  her past her limit.  

At the beginning of our sceneing, once she had been claimed, and even to this day after being collared,  she has safe words. Yellow for “I like this but it’s a bit too intense at the moment, keep going” to “Red”  which in our world is simply to “stop now, check in and see if we should continue”. And remember,  there is nothing wrong, so reding out is not a big deal. At the same time, I can tell you that she has used  “yellow” a couple times 3 years ago, and she has never needed to red out. She was told at the outset  that “I don’t break my toys”. This gave her confidence to test her limits.  

This brings me to the most important part of consent in a 24/7 TPE dynamic. Consent is based entirely on trust. 

I have had to earn her trust over time as her Master and as her Dom.  

Consider when we met, I had been operating as a disciplinarian in one dynamic and has a cruel sadist in  another and as a Bull in another and she had never been in a kink dynamic although she had been doing kinky things all through her adult life.  

We had to find a way to relate as kinksters so that our dynamic pulled each of us in directions that we  wanted to explore, and to expand our experience of our own sexuality as we explored the twists and  turns of the rabbit hole together. This was a process of trial and error. Mostly we talked a lot. Before, during, and after scenes. I tried many fetishes and kinks with her and she had the experience of being all  in. When things got too hard, she yellowed and after when asked about things we did, she would say, “I  liked this, or I didn’t like that”. This enabled me to hone the ways we played so that I kept her in a state  of heightened arousal, which is what I find deeply arousing. I want her in a trance state on the verge of climax at all times during our scenes.  

I am sexually aroused when the woman I am with is present with me and puts herself forward to be my  sex toy. My 3-hole slut, my personal masochist. And my partner, Lady Petra does just that. The trust that  is present goes both ways. There are times I want her to Top in a scene to explore some aspect of my  own sexuality, like prostate massage for example, and I need to have complete and unwavering trust in her too.  

One of the ways I know I have her consent is that she chooses to kneel for me whenever I ask. I have  also given her the right to choose to kneel without my request so that if she feels the urge to be used,  she can request that I use her by presenting herself. If she did not feel like I had her consent she would  never put herself forward to be used day after day. The act of preparing for use is consent itself.  

The fact that in being used, she experiences multiple squirting orgasms for about 40-90 minutes at a  time is perhaps one reason that she consistently puts herself forward…but I contend that our  communication is clean enough that if she did have something to discuss regarding our play or our  dynamic, she would do so.  

Our dynamic is a 24/7 dynamic in fact. It encompasses every aspect of life. We have created protocols  for many of the specifics that day to day life requires. Why that is important is that our adherence to  protocols allows us to keep a monitor on the relationship in the same way that a pilot monitors his or  her instrument panel. All the dials on the jet’s instrument panel point in one direction. So, if one dial is  out of sorts (pointing away from vertical), the pilot will notice it immediately. This is similar. If there is  not adherence to one or another protocol it is similar to the instrument panel dial pointing in the wrong  direction. In our dynamic that is unlikely though, because Lady Petra is extraordinarily obedient, and I am very much turned on by her obedience.  

One aspect of our consent agreements boils down to this. We agree to put the dynamic aside and speak  as equals if need be. Early on in our dynamic, we had to do this a couple of times till we could get flat  about whatever it was that was bothering one or the other of us. For more than 2 years now, that has  not come up. One reason is that we are both being responsible for the dynamic as I noted earlier. We take the idea of creating the dynamic seriously.  

I am responsible for creating how I occur to her. She is responsible for creating how she occurs to me.  She pulls me to her by they way she shows up for me. She creates me when she prepares herself to be used and lets me know that she is indeed ready for me. This means that however long it takes me to get  there, I will find her kneeling offering me her leash, or on days when she is ready to be marked, she offers me the cane.  

I am also responsible for how she occurs to me. Consider that. If she is upset, its my responsibility. Its up  to me to get to the bottom of it and to do whatever is needed to get her back to being happy. I leave her  the way I leave her. So, when she is upset, I own it, and when I say I am responsible for how she is  experiencing me, it is both disarming and affirming. The point is that it is my responsibility to create her  experience as my collared slut. I want her fully enrolled in being my personal masochist. My personal  perfectly designed 3-hole whore. My fuck toy. I want her to have the experience of feeling like being  with me is a magic carpet ride. Every day. How do I know I have her consent? Because after I use her,  she sits up and takes my face in her hands and kisses me passionately telling me that I am a magician.  We describe our experience together as “bliss”. We both experience what our Tantra friends call “a  Kundalini Awakening”.  

I have her consent because we are both experiencing the deepest, most connected, most intimate,  highly sexualized, satisfying, passionate, hottest loving relationship we can possibly imagine. And we  created it. It has turned out better than we could possibly expect.  

She chooses to kneel for me. This is how I know I have her consent.  

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

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

New coaching content can be found on out Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/LadyPetrasPlayground  

Lady Petra and SafferMaster also produce the Kinky cocktail Hour podcast available on all podcast  platforms and here: https://kinkycocktailhour.buzzsprout.com/  

A Deep Dive Into Our Kink Relationship

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We live in a 24/7 TPE. She belongs to me. She is my marked, collared and plugged submissive. She gets a  daily maintenance spanking, she kneels for me when asked, and she has full agency.  

We are closer than either of us could have imagined possible. I recently wrote this poem about her: 

My Sexy Slut  

She is my muse  

My creation  

A phenomenon  

A truly sexualized creature  

Her body Pulses  

Vibrates  

And quivers in ecstasy  

Again and again  

She is erotic  

Exotic  

My Cinnamon Girl  

Connected to the earth  

Her animal spirit  

A mountain lion  

Inside her  

Brings me to  

Heights unscaled  

Where air is thin  

Aroused  

Excited  

Growling my approval  

We cum hard ‘together  

Me  

And my Sexy Slut  

When we met 3 years ago, we were both coming off long term unsatisfying marriages. She was  subjected to the whims of her domineering partner, and I suffered the scorn of a frigid wife. We both  have kids and we both have a background in athletics and health care. So there was a lot we could talk  about, and yet, we both brought a lot of baggage to the table.  

I had made the choice after a 4-year journey into hard-core kink following my separation and divorce, to  base my relationship on being an out-kinkster. I chose to seek a submissive partner to explore my sexuality with.  

Now to be clear, I had spent those 4 years post-divorce playing in the kink pool, and what I came to  discover was that intimacy was missing. I also postulated that being an out sexual kinkster, that with a  deeply submissive woman I could create intimacy in this relationship where none had existed before for 

me. I wanted to have a love relationship with a submissive masochist who herself wanted to live in a  24/7 TPE.  

With that context I wrote a “seeking post” that did as much as it could to authentically describe both  what I was seeking and who I was seeking, as well as to state clearly what I was seeking. It was an authentic writing.  

During my time playing with different submissives over the previous few years, I was present to how  many women were seeking domination. So, I was not surprised when many women responded to my  seeking post almost immediately.  

One stood out. My writing occurred to her as if it was written to her personally.  

She and I talked for months before we met. We shared stories, fantasies, kinks, desires, goals,  relationship intentions and so on then I tasked her to test her obedience and her access to masochism  as a sexual experience. She passed the test and I was compelled to meet her in person. We met for a  drink at a place midway between us.  

The way she tells it, it was in that moment of meeting me when she took stock of me in person for the  first time, that she chose to kneel for me. I occurred to her as the Dom she was seeking. Soon after our  meeting, I left the country for a month and when I returned, she was out of town for a couple of weeks.  So, we did not see each other again for around 8 weeks. We agreed to meet over lunch, and then we  met a couple of times for dinner and then on the weekend, she came over, and we took a walk and  shared a bottle of wine on the beach. She had done her research. She had lots of questions.  

She wanted to experience a real dynamic. I was interested in her as a submissive and possibly a  relationship partner long term. And the attraction was chemical. We both found each other attractive  and desirable. We were talking about what was needed to begin a dynamic. I told her that she would  need to put herself forward to be claimed, and we talked in detail about what it would take for her to  choose me to submit to. I described the protocol that she would need to follow for the experience.  

She came over one last time to spend an evening with me and she was excited to play but she had not  yet been claimed, and because I had said so, I was not prepared to play with her until she was finally  separated from her husband whom she was in the process of divorcing.  

I share this history because it was those months of conversations that comprised the negotiations for  our dynamic. We talked in detail about our limits, about the context of a D/s dynamic in a 24/7  relationship. What it would be like, the protocols I required, the specifics and so on. We established safe  words and made an agreement to set the dynamic aside while we deal with what there was to deal with  should the need arise. The more we talked the more she wanted to serve.  

She was ready to be claimed. 

This was not an insignificant moment for us. She arrived on time, and she undressed in the entrance  hall, and crawled to the center of the living room where she took the Nadu pose as instructed. Her  training had begun. The claiming was intended to be intense. She agreed to be marked inside and out as  I fulfilled on claiming her as my personal slut, and in choosing to be her Master. She got marked with  several cane strokes and I pissed down her throat and, in her ass, to mark her inside. She was now my  marked slut, and we began the experience of learning how to play together.  

For the next several weeks, she spent weekends with me and from Friday PM till late on Sunday PM she  wore a play collar and we experienced hard-core kinky sex together. We experimented with a range of  playing styles as we learned to interact sexually with each other. It was fun.  

We debriefed after every scene, and I took what I learned about her into the next scene and so on. But  at this early stage it was till experimentation us. She was experiencing her desire, being to be in a real  dynamic and to offer her submission completely, and I was experiencing the joy of training my  submissive to serve me.  

About a month into our dynamic, things started moving fast on her end and she found herself faced with  a crisis. Her ex-husband was starting to behave erratically, and she was being advised to move out for  her safety. I offered her my place to stay, no strings attached.  

She moved in under duress, but she was grateful for the safe space. I gave her the time and space she  needed to allow her to relax into the dynamic. There was zero pressure.  

She and I found that we liked spending time together. It was new for me to have a woman sleeping in  my bed day after day, and we took walks holding hands and talked and talked and talked about things.  We talked about sex, and food and kids and marriage and divorce and nature and being and religion and  spirituality and health and fitness and dogs and sex some more. I was enrolling her in my world and  specifically in my view of a 24/7 TPE along with other topics like abundance, love, relatedness, intimacy  and connection. We got along famously, we enjoyed each other’s company, and the sex was amazing.  

We talked and fucked and cooked and ate together and drank together, it became clear fairly quicky  that with her in my life, my life was dramatically improved. We started to experience good feelings for  each other. She was bold and said so first and I was confronted by my story of being unlovable, so I had  to be with her feeling strongly about me while I figured out how to deal with my own experience. I had  what I wanted and had been seeking right there in my living room telling me that she was falling in love  with me. Talk about being confronted. (I like to define the word “confronted” as to “look at without flinching”.)  

My search had been for intimacy and so that started an inquiry about what that meant for us. We  continued to explore kink and each other and she pursued her cocktail sommelier credential. This led to  us having a cocktail and an in-depth relationship conversation every day after we fucked. We had a play  scene daily and had high protocol scenes on the weekend. It was a great time. Around the same time, I  implemented a daily maintenance spanking regime to address her mood swings. She was much happier after impact play. This was a game changer on many levels. It gave us new access to her masochism and  the sex got hotter (if that was possible) and we got closer.  

In the meantime, her divorce got finalized and with her being complete, the last condition I had set for  collaring her was satisfied, I offered her my collar. She accepted, and now as my collared slut we  continued to explore intimacy in our relationship newly and if it’s possible to believe, the sex is hotter  every time out than it ever was before.  

We came to a place where we were both able to truly allow the other person in – to be vulnerable. The  way I put it was that I would allow her to hold my heart in one hand and a sharp blade in the other, and I  choose to give her the power to destroy my heart. That is vulnerability. She did the same. We got  vulnerable with each other and that made all the difference. We got closer and the sex got hotter. Crazy.  

Armed with a loving dynamic, our 24/7 TPE took off. Then covid happened and we were stuck at home  in our new collared dynamic. And wow, did we love that. We spent 24 hours a day together living a 24/7  dynamic in reality. It was magical.  

Her mixology skills improved and we found ourselves in a deep conversation about our relationship, our  dynamic, and so on, which led us to starting the podcast because if you really think about it, our kink is  communication. We worked on the coaching program, and we got involved in meeting and interviewing  kinksters to discover more for ourselves. Out of that we made friends in the kink community, and we  have deepened our relationship dramatically. We have also been having ever hotter sex, most recently  described as a “open chakras and a flowing kundalini” by Mystic Chick.  

We are getting close to a tantric experience. We have distilled our scenes down to the essence of pure  pleasure. It’s remarkable. We are left breathless and high each time we fuck.  

We love each other, our kink is wrapped into our sexuality, and we continue to explore.  

Our exploration has a few rules  

– There is nothing wrong  

– We do not allow space between us  

– We are each 100% responsible for the dynamic  

– We relate as Dom/sub, Sadist/masochist, Daddy/little, Master/owned property  

These “rules” create a context for the relationship that keeps us on an even keel. And we have  incorporated protocols that keep us ticking along on all cylinders. We are 100% aligned. Its wonderful.  

I wrote this poem recently:  

She Completes Me  

30 years  

Scorned 

Nullified  

Made Nothing if  

Demeaned  

Diminished  

Held in contempt  

Sneered at  

3 years  

Loved  

Cherished  

Esteemed  

Admired  

Appreciated  

Desired  

Valued  

Love is powerful  

Life is in balance  

She completes me  

As you think about yourself and your life and your kink and your relationship dynamics and you are hoping to experience something similar to what we are experiencing, consider that communication is  our kink, and we would not have gotten here if we were both unclear about what we were seeking in the first place.  

Our entire coaching program is designed to get you here…on your own terms. Feel free to reach out to us on https://www.patreon.com/LadyPetrasPlayground where the Task a Day program will give you access to the experience.  

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

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

Lady Petra and SafferMaster also produce the Kinky cocktail Hour podcast available on all podcast platforms and here: https://kinkycocktailhour.buzzsprout.com/

Being Dominant and Being A Dominant-Worlds Apart

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Woman and man playing domination games in bed together

There have been a rash of questions on our educational sites lately similar to the following, “Can a guy become dominant if it doesn’t naturally come to them?”

It’s a good question but needs more context. Too often we see people confusing the difference between a Top (the dominant role during a scene) and being a Dominant, the head of a power exchange relationship. Through conversation, we often find what they mean, is being a Top.

I wrote about this difference some time ago in a shorter article addressing the difference. In it I wrote this short piece and asked the readers to comment and react:

“Just because my personality is dominant, does not make me a Dominant.

Just because I have self-discipline and a dominant personality, does not mean I am a Dominant, or would even be a good one.

Just because I have a submissive, does not mean I am a Dominant.

All of these things are pieces and parts brought together by will, intelligence, need, diligence, consistency, integrity, self-motivation, selflessness and selfishness, and the ability to bond deeply with another person through the development of trust and the vulnerability of emotional connection. Using all of the aforementioned to develop a skill set which enables a person to show they are able to take on the committed role and can be trusted. Giving the submissive an opportunity to be as the title implies.

It is a web of factors which takes time, patience, practice, and guidance to form a larger whole.

Anyone can call themselves anything, but until they realize it is much more than any one or two things culminating in being a Dominant, they will only ever be dominant. There is a difference.”

All Hell Broke Loose

As you can imagine, there were some very strong opinions which came out of this conversation. Everything from dominants are born not made, dominants can be made even if they never leaned that way before etc. etc. It seemed like everyone had an opinion as to how someone inclined becomes properly a Dominant.

Lacking was discussion on what might actually contribute to someone being a successful dominant. Out of the hundred or so replies there were exactly zero about a dominant’s make up, only argument about what was properly a Dominant or not. It was at the very least disheartening. 

It was then I determined to write about what, in my opinion, really contributed to being a Dominant, not merely dominance. It wound up being 14 articles, with the Dominant’s Creed as its basis to give readers a baseline to follow. Some of that I am regurgitating here in this piece.

At the Center

I think nothing happens in this lifestyle which does not include the core of a person. Who they are underneath it all. Stripping away the façade of titles, costumes, toys, and the persona they may put on for others. In the end, whether they have a chance to be successful rests with them being a good person or not. Nothing more complicated than that. Regardless of the type of dynamic there are some commonalities which allow us to be that which we seek in kink.

Integrity and honesty, empathy and compassion, maturity and thoughtfulness, self-confidence and self-awareness, internal drive and motivation are among the many traits combined into a successful cocktail which enables others to see us as a potential Dominant. Because without a sub-type who wants our dominance, what good is it. First, they need to say yes.

Without that initial spark to which they are attracted in that submissive way, we are a rowboat without paddles.

If we happen to fake the funk and get someone to accept us and we are not a good person? Eventually it is going to melt down. People will get hurt emotionally, and possibly physically. The relationship will end simply because we have not taken the time to work on ourselves and become prepared to be that Dominant. 

Sure there are plenty of submissives out there who could spell disaster for us because they may not be a good person. However, we are not in control of them, only ourselves. There is not point in duping someone, or waiting till after a relationship is established to get ourselves squared away.

So We Find a Submissive

Great, now what? As I stated in the first portion of this article there is so much more than just being in that relationship. It takes effort and commitment. A whole lot more talking going on than playing, or at least there should be in my opinion. How can we be an effective Dominant to someone if we do not know them well?

I am not just talking about what they do for work, or if they have kids, or the hobbies they like. We need to dig deep into who this person is and why they are who they are. And they us. At a brutal level of honesty. This is going to be the lever that allows us to appreciate them as a person. Be accepting of the bad, not just the good. To see past the front we all put up in a new relationship because we all want to put our best foot forward.

This willingness to learn our partner in an emotionally intimate way speaks of our ability to be empathic and compassionate. Two of our greatest and most used tools as Dominants. They council us to listen more than speak, to ask probing questions, and to really hear and understand our partner. Without this, we step on many more landmines than necessary. 

No, Simply Demanding it Does Not Mean You’ll Get It

Even if we are a good person and have managed to find a submissive who is committed to us, we cannot be jerks about it, if we want it to last. Way back when dirt was invented and I was a new dominant, I thought that was the way it was supposed to work. I quickly found out otherwise to my shame and embarrassment. 

There is a duty of care and responsibility which comes with being a Dominant. That we first are looking out for the best interest of our submissive. Even as a Master, we have to be careful of this, even more so as a committed slave is less likely to come to their own defense in many cases, unless the situation is dire. This is not possible without having developed a deep understanding of our sub-type.

They are placing their trust in us to lead them in a way which not only fulfills our desires but helps them grow and fulfills theirs. If all we are is a machine which compels compliance without thought to the impact on our charge, the chances of the dynamic lasting long or very small.

Creating a Gravitational Pull

The moon stays in orbit around Earth because of the gravity it exerts. Similarly, being that good person at our core helps us create an emotional gravity which captures our submissive and keeps them in our orbit. It allows them to open up to us, in turn, freeing us to be that Dominant they desire. I say freeing because without that pull, everything becomes a struggle where we are having to work to keep them enthralled and interested.

The dynamic becomes work, like the kind we do not appreciate so much. Not to be confused with the effort it takes to maintain a healthy relationship.

It also frees our submissive to be accepting of our dominance. They can begin to and continue to trust us because they have learned we are a person worth trusting. Sure we have to do much more than just be a good and decent person. But it is a beginning worth striving for, and one which becomes foundational for a long-term commitment.  

The Goal

I think most of us want to have that stability in our relationships, even if they are not romantic. The purpose driven commitment to and of another person bringing a constant into our universe to look forward to, cherish, and rely upon in good times and bad. 

Is not this the hub on which all else turns? Our ability to maintain a healthy relationship with another person? To do that, to build that, we need to work on ourselves first. 

Realizing to become a Dominant, we must master ourselves first. If we do not, we will only ever be dominant.


If you are interested in the Dominant’s Creed articles I mentioned earlier in this writing visit this link to my page on FetLife – TAC_1’s Writings | FetLife

The Power Of Choice In Power Exchange

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Submission is a choice.  Every aspect of the power we hand over to another individual is a daisy chain of choices.  I have always been transparent about the struggles I had in learning how to make those choices.

I chose to offer Him my submission and He rejected me.

I chose to offer it a second time and He took me under consideration.

I chose when to kneel.  I chose when to call Him Sir and once again when to call Him Master. I chose when to crawl.  

And I chose when to finally let go.

As I write this, I understand that to the naked eye, it seems as though I had all the power.  And we all know how I feel about that saying.  

What I am trying to do is highlight the slow decent into complete acceptance.  He has a considerable amount of patience.  He pushed me by setting His expectations a notch higher than I thought I could achieve. 

Every. Single. Time.

By turning me down, He verified I had an honest desire to serve Him and the determination to address things that make me uncomfortable.

By letting me kneel at my pace, He could see that understanding dawn in my eyes when I finally accepted the desires I spoke about.

By allowing me to choose how to address Him, He guaranteed my service was sincere and natural.

By waiting for me to crawl, He watched me finally comprehend that my discomfort is secondary to His pleasure.

In a profoundly silent style, He taught me how to sink into my submission and wrap it around me like a warm cloak of spirituality.

Each of these led to my final choice: to offer Him a Total Power Exchange.  He would (and does) own my body, my mind, and my soul.  At this point in O/our dynamic, my limits are His limits.  

Now, the reason I am laying this out, is because you need to understand the building blocks of our dynamic before I tell you the final step of His “training” process.

Once I reached the point of complete acceptance, He pointed out the most important part of what I had learned.  I had learned to anticipate His needs, and, by default, my own.  During my efforts to figure out my own wants and needs, I had started subconsciously seeking his approval.  I had, without realizing it, had taken the service aspect to heart.  My happiness came from my ability to make His life easier.  It was (and still is) my mission to recognize and provide everything He desires without Him ever saying a word.

Only once I reached the point of anticipating His thoughts (as much as submissive can anticipate the thoughts of a Sadist) were we able to delve into O/our favorite part of BDSM.

Now the fun part.

I am going to ask you to define Mental Bondage.

I know, without ever hearing the answers, that each of you gave me a different definition.

Here’s why:

If you type Mental Bondage into Google (without any other code words), you will get two types of answers.  The first is religious.  They refer to mental bondage as the inability to see, feel, or understand the spirit of God. The second is a warning against domestic abuse.  Mental bondage, in that capacity, refers to the inability to break the cycle of abuse and recognize the trauma being experienced.

If those aren’t vastly different ends of the spectrum, I don’t know what is.

If you change your search to “BDSM Mental Bondage,” the answers move to kink related themes. 

1) The first answer is sexual hypnosis.  Sexual Hypnosis, also called Erotic Hypnosis, is the use of hypnosis to elicit a particular set of sexual or sensual responses.  It can be used to force orgasms, increase sensitivity to touch, or implement trigger words that can sink someone into sub space.  While it is not my kink (mostly because attempted hypnosis just triggers my narcolepsy), I did take a class on it at one time out of curiosity.  For those who can use hypnosis in (or as) their kink, it is amazing to see the sensuality of it.  I have a friend who partakes, and she keeps her trigger word private because it will turn her extremely primal.  I was able to watch her play with Master one time where she wanted to have her word used in conjunction with electricity.  It was…quite the scene.

2) The second answer you will see is a reference to positional training.  This most often references the Gorean slave positions or submissive training poses.  I make the distinction between these because while some of the poses overlap, they are two separate sets of positions and commands to learn.  There are three common languages used to give the commands.  The first is English, and most commonly coincides with submissive training poses.  The second is German, akin to the same words used to train dogs (and I may or may not have managed to surprise Master when I responded to them).  I have seen this one used in more High Protocol settings, and more often used with slaves.  The last is the common tongue of Gor.  These are the terms (and definitions) outlined in the Gor Series (written by John Norman).  These books are the foundations of the Gorean lifestyle.

The reason positional training falls under Mental Bondage is because the learning of these positions becomes second nature to the submissive and often can sink them into a particular mindset, depending on the position used.  This is especially true with the Gorean positions.  For example, the position “Bracelets” is used to put slave bracelets on so the slave may be chained.  “Leasha (Leash)” is the position used to attach a leash to the slave.  

If you have been in either of those positions (formally or just in play), they are vastly different mindsets.

3) The third most common answer revolves around 24/7 dynamics.  It is the commitment of a submissive to the rules laid out by their Dominant.  Think about it.  Do your rules dictate what you eat, what you wear, or what you can say?  Are you required to answer questions with a particular honorific or in a certain way?  

All of these are forms of mental bondage.  You are bound to a strict set of expectation that you are only released from at your Dominant’s discretion.  It is an invisible version of bondage.  It is much like being bound with rope and only being freed once your Dominant desires it.

While there are quite a few other definitions, the ones listed above are the most commonly agreed upon within the vast online BDSM community.

Then there is U/us.

While we do use aspects of the previous mentioned definitions, we have developed O/our own version of Mental Bondage.

Mental Bondage, in my experience, is the adherence to protocols, orders, and positions that have only been anticipated (and never verbally directed) with the expectation of correction if the submissive is wrong.

Sounds scary, huh?

To me, it sounds deliciously fearsome.  Which is why Mental Bondage is my kink.

O/our version of Mental Bondage does have a component of Consensual Non-Consent (CNC).  The expectations laid upon me change each time we play. As mentioned, many times before, I do not know what is going to happen until it happens.  

One example of Mental Bondage is “the waiting game.”

When Master has decided it is time to scene, I am sent down to my room to wait for Him.  He never states how I am to wait.  The only consistent is the fact that I kneel.  Sometimes I am naked and other times I am dressed.  Sometimes I am in Nadu pose.  Other times I kneel at the edge of the bed, my forehead to the mattress, my arms extended out above my head.  The pose depends on what I have anticipated He wants me to do.  

Unfortunately for me, W/we like to combine Mental Fuckery and Mental Bondage, so I am only right about 20% of the time.

Another one of Master’s favorite expressions of mental bondage occurs during impact play.  Sadomasochism is a heavy part of our play.  This means that we play for short amounts of time at a high intensity with little warm-up or cool down.  I have been bucked off a spanking bench and a barrel from the force of the impact.  

Do you know what happens when I break position?

I pick myself up and move back into position.  He never breaks posture, nor does He speak.  He knows that once I am in a position, I will hold it until His direction changes.  He expects me to hold myself in a way where He can reach as much of my body as physically possible.  

While He refuses to admit to me that He enjoys watching me struggle, I can see it clearly on His face.  Watching my legs tremble beneath me, hearing me sob as I try to continually hold my body against the force of impact, and ultimately watching me collapse brings a sinister grin to His face.

Rope has been used only one time during the length of O/our dynamic.  Metal cuffs have been used three times, and I can count the number of times my leather cuffs have been used on one hand.  Outside of those instances, all of the bondage I am subjected to is mental.

In my experience, Mental Bondage brings me a sense of accomplishment.  Knowing that I am pushing my body to the edge to hold a position for longer periods of time, simply because He wants me to, is rewarding.  

It also gives me a focus point.  Master does not like to keep the same rhythm during play.  Doing so would allow me to push out the pain.  He wants me to feel it, to experience it in the moment, and to push through it.  Repetitive motion, like a flogging, can allow a submissive to sink into a meditative state to push their pain threshold.  He expects me to push through it through an active choice to continue (through the withholding of my safeword).

I have the choice to put myself back into position.

I have the choice to stop experiencing the pain and the pleasure.

I even have the choice to break the invisible hold of mental bondage by using my safeword.

After all, there is nothing physically stopping me.

It is my honor as a submissive that bound me to Master.  It is my desire to serve and please Him.  It comes down to the moment I gave Him power over me.  

The moment I gave Him my power to choose.

Living in a 24/7 TPE Dynamic

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I live with my collared slut. She and I have a 24/7 Total Power Exchange (TPE). This means that at all  times she chooses to submit to me. Our dynamic is sex forward. So, one aspect of our dynamic is that at  any time, I am free to use her sexually. Our dynamic is kink forward as well. What this means is that at  any time, I am free to do anything I wish to her in any kink context that I choose. Naturally, she is not a  slave, and she has agency, and she has given me her consent. Naturally, I would never do anything to  her or with her that ignored or violated her hard limits. I say “naturally” because all kink dynamics are based on trust.  

When I made the choice to seek a submissive partner to live in a 24/7 TPE, I did so after exploring a wide  range of kink scenes with an array of submissive women. While I was quite happy with the kink, the sex  itself was unfulfilling and I became present to the fact that for me, what was missing was the intimacy of  romantic partnership. In my exploration of kink, I learned some things about myself. What sort of  fetishes I had and which ones I wanted to explore further and so when I began my search, I had a list of  “must haves” and list of “I’d like to have” considerations.  

For example, I knew that I was seeking an obedient submissive masochist who was herself seeking a  24/7 TPE. She needed to into or at least open to my entire fetish list. That was the start of the adventure.  

I wrote a “seeking post” that posted in all the personal’s on Fetlife in the local and nearby cities. Almost  immediately, I received many inquiries from women and I met a few of them. One woman in particular  got my attention. Her questions seemed genuine and her curiosity authentic. We messaged for months,  spoke once or twice and then, I gave her a task to assess both her obedience and masochism. What I did was I asked her to attempt to orgasm with ginger in her ass. It was smore than that, but that was the gist  of it. Not only did she do so, but she orgasmed 3 times and then she sat in a Nadu pose with the ginger  inserted and experienced an out of body moment. That task had me anxious to meet her.  

We met in person at a restaurant and in the very first moments of our meeting, she made the choice to  submit to me. Before we even spoke. My dominant nature, my way of being, my pheromones,  whatever, something in her was triggered and she chose me to gift herself to.  

Over the next few months, she worked to get complete in her separation and file for divorce (something  that was occurring regardless of my interactions with her. Eventually, when she had taken steps to  formally separate, she put herself forward to be claimed.  

In claiming her, I would mark her inside and out as my own submissive. We had talked about this, and it  took courage to put herself as a new kinkster, in the hands of a sadist. The Claiming Ceremony involved  being chained, marked with a cane, having me piss in her ass and down her throat.  

That began a journey of exploration as we explored many different scenes and kinks of a wide variety of  alternatives, to get our kink in alignment. She is very obedient and she does everything I ask. Then after  we play, we debrief and we assess if we should do that again, more intensely, less intensely or not at all.  

Communication in a kink dynamic is probably the most important aspect of our kink and, in truth, you  could say that our favorite fetish is communication. You would not be wrong. I’ll say one important thing about communication between a Dom and a sub. There are times when we need to set aside our  dynamic and talk as equals. This is important because as I noted at the outset, she has agency.  

Before long, she moved in with me and we started to explore living together in a kink dynamic. Not long  after that, we started talking about collaring her. We made the choice to delay the collaring itself until  she had created the space she needed to create a new relationship by getting complete with her  divorce. This is an important consideration. In order to be able to commit herself to me, she needed to  be divorced completely. I needed her to be able to give me her full attention, and with the background  noise of an ongoing divorce she did not have the mindset nor the space to put her attention on  something brand new. And as soon as her divorce was done and she was complete, we began to plan  her collaring ceremony in earnest.  

We took collaring seriously. We wrote our statements out so we would not forget what we wanted to  say and she kneeled in a circle of candle lights and white rose petals as we started the ceremony by  being with each other. We sat there staring into each other’s eyes, silently, or perhaps 5 minutes. We  said what there was to say and then we created an intense and prolonged scene to mark the occasion.  

It was a beautiful private ceremony that bound us in our kink.  

What has happened since then is that we have become closer, more connected and more aligned than ever.  

The best aspect of being in a kink dynamic is what we call “The Rabbit Hole”. Why kink is like a rabbit  hole is that it takes twists and turns and we discover new things about ourselves and each other. One  example is the time I made the choice to give her a daily maintenance spanking. This occurred because I  noticed that as the week passed after our weekend marking sessions, she became “out of sorts” and it  was clear that she was in a great mood after being marked. And while she put herself forward to be  spanked as instructed, what came out of that was unexpected. We used the experience to try different  implements on her and she found that with the heavy flogger, somewhere around 150 strokes, she  started to have orgasms and experience the flogging as electrical energy. We have experimented with  over 1000 strokes, which she loved. This was completely unexpected. Another example is the time I put  her in chastity for a month and we only explored anal sex. She discovered her ass as a sex organ –  eating her ass gives her orgasms. That was unexpected.  

My point is that in the rabbit hole, the twists and turns are surprising and its super fun to have a partner  with whom that exploration is occurring.  

So what makes our dynamic work? First, we subscribe to a few principles:  

– There is nothing wrong.  

– We are both 100% responsible.  

– We are in communication.  

– Trust is present.  

There is one other thing. She is incredibly obedient. I find her obedience a turn on. She adheres to  protocols with a religious fervor. I love it. 

Now a few words on the principles we adhere to. When we say “there is nothing wrong” it is not to  dismiss her point of view or her complaint or mine, it’s a recognition that as human beings, we make  meaning out of things we do not completely understand. It’s a function of being human. What there is  to deal with is “what’s so” about a thing. That keeps us from escalating moments in a negative direction.  Second, we both take full responsibility to keep the dynamic alive and well. Its not a 50/50 deal at all. Its  100%/0%. And we talk. We talk so often about so many aspects about our dynamic that we started the  podcast Kinky Cocktail Hour. And most important, trust really is present. She trust me to use her hard  and not break her. She trusts me to love her and care for her and I trust her to do the same. Intimacy is present.  

Our dynamic works because we are committed and not attached to the dynamic and we go with the  ebbs and flows of our desires and demands. As the Dom, it is my responsibility to read her. To gauge her  energy and her mindset. We have sexualized her completely. She experiences herself as a very sexy  creature And she is perfectly suited to be my personal slut. The result is that our sex is lava hot. I would  say conservatively, that in the 3 years we have been together, we have had sex over 1,000 times, each  time being the hottest sex ever. She always presents herself to be used and it starts there. Lately, we are  employing hypnosis to move her into a trance state more quickly and I am training her to experience deep throat fucking as orgasmic. It’s hot.  

Writing this has caused me to send her a message that I am going to use her hard when she gets home  from work, and I am going to “fuck her silly”. Because our sexuality is wrapped up in kink, this means  that she will get flogged and fucked today. Her response? “Mmmmmm…Very, Very HOT!!”. Then she sent me this text:  

“Verfreude”  

The German word Vorfreude is unique and has no English equivalent. It comes from the  words vor (“before”) and Freude (“joy”) and means something along the lines of “joyful anticipation.” Vorfreude is the joy you experience while you are looking forward to something.  

Germans often say: “Vorfreude ist die schönste Freude” which means “anticipation is the greatest joy”.  

I have Verfreude too.  

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

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

New coaching content can be found on our Patreon:  

https://www.patreon.com/LadyPetrasPlayground 

Lady Petra and SafferMaster also produce the Kinky Cocktail Hour podcast available on all podcast platforms and here: https://kinkycocktailhour.buzzsprout.com/

Queen vs. Warden

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

Today, I’d like to address a subject that’s been mentioned in passing in a few of my articles and books:  The difference between being an enforcer and of being a leader. 

The examples I’d like to use for this discussion, are the Warden of a prison versus the Queen of a land.  

Both positions have “constituents” – those that reside in the area over which they have authority. Both have the authority to set rules and procedures for those constituents. Both have power to rule,  somewhat unilaterally. Both have the right to enforce their will. Both are in positions of superiority. 

Of course, there are a number of differences: 

The Warden’s constituency is not present by choice. They are incarcerated and restricted. The warden is  feared. There is no personal relationship with the warden; interaction is limited to compliance with strict  and granular rules that impact every moment of every day. Compliance is not a choice, it is mandatory – and failure to comply has severe punitive consequence. They are counting the days until they can get out. 

The Queen’s constituency are members by choice. They are voluntarily citizens unless they no longer  want/need the protections / benefits of the land. The Queen is revered and honored. She is worshiped and adored. She is the leader of the land. Her rules are somewhat generic; providing an overarching  framework of culture and order, under which the citizens adapt for their specific lives. For the most part,  participation in the regulations provide a level of freedom within that framework. Of course, repeated  failure to comply to the regulations may result in banishment from the land or being turned over to … the warden, but for the most part, the constituents are governed by their desire to provide for the  queen in their deed and intent. 

Much of the literature surrounding BDSM and D/s fantasies, and consequently, many of those who  approach me for advice or contact, approach dominance as a position of enforcement. Of course, there  is a bit of a façade that gets played: When referring to dominants, they use words like “reverence” and  “worship” – vernacular that would have you believe the dominant is a queen, but when you actually look  at the nature of the imagery and understand the demands of the fantasy, you see that the role being  described most resembles that of the warden. 

Many submissivess are looking to be made captive. The fantasy is to be trapped, as if against one’s will,  under the authoritative and restrictive rule of the dominant. There is usually an elaborate storyline that  creates servitude – blackmail, disclosure, loss of bets, indenture – so that compliance to a strict rule is  assured. Every movement curtailed; every decision made for them. When to eat, when to sleep, where  to go, what to do. Enforcement is immediate and punitively consequential. The dominant is an enforcer: The “doer”; the active role. Obedience is driven through fear of consequence. All of this is necessary to make the façade feel real.

For most of the dominants I know, playing the role of warden can be fun and enjoyable – as a role.  However, being the warden day in and day out runs counter to what they’re looking for in their  relationships – and can be a lot of work! Most enjoy the feeling of being revered, worshiped, and adored. They want to set generic rules and structure, and not have to threaten or beat their submissives  into compliance. In my vernacular, they prefer “submission” to “acquiescence” …the difference being  that submission is driven by a desire to serve, whereas acquiescence is compliance driven by a desire to avoid consequence. 

The conflict this establishes can take a toll on relationships. A person who is looking to establish a power  dynamic using words like “worship” and “reverence”, is setting up an expectation that isn’t met (for  most) by the imagery of the warden. Sometimes that dichotomy is realized very late in the dynamic’s  development and can lead to all sorts of issues. If someone wants a warden, they need to be up-front  about it. This is not just a porn issue (although porn tends to present the imagery of the warden in the  guise of a full-time relationship – and for someone whose only exposure to power dynamics is through  porn, that can be damaging), this is a communications issue. Talk about what you want. Define  submission. Define dominance. Agree on your terms before you dive into the dynamic. 

For me, I am my submissive’s queen. They operate within the guidelines I present – my preferences and  expectations…the things that make me happy. They live within the purview of my land for as long as  they want to. They are neither forced to comply, nor are they trapped against their will. They opt to  serve me, each and every day they stay here. They are the “doers”; actively working to fulfill their role  within the structure. They are citizens of my land; knights; valued contributors to my domain. 

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

The Tao of Being A Slave

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Tao means a road, path, way; and also, the way in which one does something; method, doctrine, and principle. It speaks to ourselves, the path on which we walk, and how we walk it. 

No two slave’s journeys are the same. However most have milestones along the road. Points in time which become defining to our existence. 

This series of short vignettes is meant to describe these turning points from a Master’s perspective. In the moment and outlining what the crux of each milestone might be.

So You Want to Serve…..

You may believe in your heart of hearts you are committed. We’ll see if that changes in two days, two weeks, two months……. two years from now.

It is not enough to willingly place your head in the harness. To go about your daily tasks without question. You will learn the difference between serving and being In Service To.

Once the later becomes clear to you, then and only then will you be able to make an informed decision. To say without reserve, “I stay with a willing heart.”

To be slave, is to be all and nothing. So encompassed in the art of service the person and the act become indistinguishable. The acts, each one, are their new fingerprint. Exactly how a sugar bowl is placed on a tea tray. The care shown in the details when laying out their Master’s clothing. Finding fulfillment, in the seemingly mundane.

Most cannot allow their “vessel” to become empty enough making room for the thousands of details.

Those who know, understand the collar is a symbol to show those who do not understand a glimpse of what could be, the only allowance of overt pride, and a promise said two ways. Those who truly want to become, may never notice your collar, only how brightly your flame outshines all around you.

Other….. More…… Slave

(We do not always really want what we wish for. Often, we do not understand what it is we are getting ourselves into. Until we do. Starting a journey, we are wide eyed. Sometime later though, we begin to face other thoughts.)

If You Stay…..

I can promise you this-

I will always keep your best interest in mind.

You will not always agree with me on how I go about that. In fact there may be times you are frustrated and angry with me. 

If You Stay….

I cannot guarantee a month or a year from now you will be satisfied. That is a mystery for you to solve. I can only lay the path. How you perceive it, I have no control over.

If You Stay….

The work will be hard, mentally and physically. Sometimes monotonous. The point of each exercise will not always be obvious. But that is often the point of it. For you to find it.

If You Stay….

You may find eventually that this is not for you or that I am not the right One for you. That does not equate to wasted time, just time you spent preparing for the One who is for you.

If…. You….. Stay…..

We will be able to look back and find many moments which made it all worth the effort. Places in time where epiphanies happened, joy was found, and sorrows overcome.

The road you are choosing is a rocky one not because I have put boulders in the path, but because we all have ourselves to master, a self-perception which weighs us down, and a history which can haunt us.

Being free of those chains is what I have to offer.

If You Stay

(There is a gut check sometime early in every great endeavor. A moment when we realize that what we face may be bigger than we are prepared for. That success, no matter how hard we work for it, is not guaranteed. It is at that point we must make a decision, a leap of faith, with the understanding that what we learn from it, regardless of outcome is worth it. If we are willing to take the risk.)

This is not training……

Training is such an oversimplification of what you will experience. I can train a dog to fetch. I can train a person to write. You will be led to think and process differently.

I will challenge your self-perception, your perception of others, and your perception of the world around you. Not to make you a doll, but to help you be more resilient, powerful, the calm at the center of the storm.

You will learn to maintain a singular focus in spite of the chaos around you. A mindful razor-sharp clarity that allows you to see what may have been hidden from you before.

Not erasing you, or replacing you, but building a fortress around you. So the slings and arrows of life are much less concerning. Outwardly a blade of grass swaying in the wind. Inwardly a mountain of granite. Immeasurable. Immovable. Timeless.

You will always have a choice. Comply or do not comply. Each has its consequence. Good and bad. You will be measured by your choices, not just your deeds. Strive to choose wisely at every turn.

To do this you must become a scholar of yourself, of those around you, and of those that came before both of us. Setting conventional expectation aside in favor of writing a new book.

Be thoughtful, critical, and ethical. Logic alone will not serve you well. Let your intellect temper your heart’s lead. Calculated risk vs. wild abandon.

I do not seek to train you.

I seek the best version of you, and through you the best version of me.

(Becoming a better person, a better version of ourselves, is not about the physical. It is mental. A change in the way we view ourselves and how we fit into the world around us. A shift in self perception which allows us to appreciate ourselves more and rely on the praise of others less. Freeing us to be our best.)

Now You Know…..

Three months since you have come into my fold…… now you know it is not all fun and games. Good times yes, but also stressful ones. The time you have spent looking inward far outweighs all else.

What have you learned?

Did you just bow your head, grit your teeth, and power through it? If so then you have learned nothing other than you can survive.

I want you to thrive! The only way to do that is to fully embrace what you have chosen. Immerse yourself in it. Leave nothing on the field at the end of each day.

If your plan is to survive the next three months, leave now, this is not for you and I have nothing to teach you.

If you want to thrive, open yourself up to the possibility that you are enough. It’s just a matter of unlocking the right doors. 

There will be many nights you will go to bed doubting yourself. Resist doing so. Set that doubt aside and review your goals. Self-doubt allows for the possibility of overall failure. Focus your mind on success. 

You will have small failures along the way. This does not mean you have failed but been provided the opportunity to become better. Do not pass them by.

Three months in…. is just barely scratching the surface.

Consider this before deciding to stay or go for the next three…..

Anyone can survive….. it takes courage to thrive.

(When we keep our heads down and keep digging, we fail to see the mountain we build in our own path. We have not confronted our own failings and misgivings as each one pops up but consolidated them together. Creating a much more difficult barrier to overcome. Thriving means not just doing well but living well. Part of that is confronting difficult issues as they arise, not putting them off for another day.)

It’s OK to Smile…….

I saw you standing next to the counter. Watching you prepare the tray. Carefully arranging everything and looking at it from one side then another. 

Then something happened. The corner of your lips slowly moved upward with a nod of your head. A hundred or more times you have set that tray to have me send it back or correct something. This time you looked sure of yourself.

When you brought the tray setting it carefully on the table next to my chair you waited as you always do. However, this time, I could feel the tension in your muscles coiling, in anticipation of my glance toward it. 

Lowering my book slightly I quickly surveyed the lacquered wood and its contents stating it was, “good.” The relief emanated from you in waves.

“Tomorrow, add toast. Lightly done. One slice, wheat. Buttered on one side. Not soggy. One teaspoon of strawberry jam in the center.” I instructed to you as I looked over the edge of my glasses. 

The mixture of success of coffee service and dread apparent from the addition to the task showed on you even though your expression never changed. “Thank you, Sir. Yes Sir.”

“It’s OK to smile,” I mentioned. “You did well, the tray is correct. Your reward is you get to add toast to the service. Which I do enjoy.”

It is OK to smile, to feel pride at something done well. Each time you succeed, something more will be given to you. Another detail in which you can find pride and success. 

If I did not think you worthy or capable, I would not have added the toast.

Smile…….

(We have all had one thing in our lives that no matter how hard we tried, we could never seem to get it right. We banged our head against the wall for what seemed like an eternity. Then one day, something just changed. We shifted how we thought about the problem and the solution became clear. It is in these moments we learn the most about ourselves. That we are capable. This is not the time to rest on our success but to reach for the next goal. Seize the momentum and let it carry us forward.)

Introductions……

You have earned this night. 

Tonight, you will be introduced to many people you already know. Yet, as something more than what they have known you to be. The beginning of a new evolution. No longer just, “her,” or a slave in training. But as slave. 

Tonight, you will get to show all those around you just how much you have learned both in service and on the post. 

After tonight, they will look at you differently. Speak to you differently. Know you differently. 

Debutantes attend balls to be shown to society and given the chance for others to see how well heeled they are. Similarly, you will have the chance to show the community what a good student you have been. Etiquette, personal presentation, service, and poise. All will be watching to see if I have done my part well. 

Tonight, you represent me, as well as yourself. All that we have accomplished together over the last year comes together tonight. At one dinner. In service to this House, and to me. 

You have this in you, you always have. Trust in yourself. 

After tonight, you will see yourself differently. For good or ill it will change your impression of yourself. Take from it the positive you gain. It is a challenge, one not easily met for the first time, but not impossible.

Do well, earn your chair.

(There are very few seminal events in our lives. Moments which forever influence our view of our world and change our actions as a result of it. When they do happen, the lessons we take from them are entirely up to us. Even in abject failure we can find motivation to improve and move forward. Some fold in adversity and leave behind that which they strived for. Other succeed in the moment, only to stall out. Hanging their hat on one moment as the pinnacle to never achieve anything greater. In everything there is a choice. The trick is to choose wisely.)

Remember Where You Came From…..

Soon you will be making a choice regarding your place in this House. Before you do, you need to remember what came before this place.

Take two weeks, hell, take a month. Go visit family and friends. Inspect old haunts and relive some of who you were before you met me.

Not to say goodbye, but to remember. To feel what it was like before slave. Before Service. 

When you first came here, I presented you a choice to stay or go. That choice has always been on the table. Everyday like a giant wide open barn door to the rest of the world. All you had to do was step through it. Yet you stayed, no matter how hard it became.

This time it is not a choice. You must go, for a time.

Reconnect with people you may have lost touch with. Live normal things. Some of it will feel very strange to you. Some people, even though lifelong friends, may make you uncomfortable.

Answer their questions. Fully and honestly. You can say anything you like, including about me.

Do not be angry or frustrated with them if they do not understand. How could they? I said in the beginning I would lead you to view yourself, others, and the world around you differently. So you do. But they, do not.

This is not to say goodbye to those you love or the life you have lived. It is to remember, so you can make the right choice for yourself. That cannot be done here under my, and others, watchful eyes. It must be done, on your own.

When you return, I will ask you one last time.

In the meantime……remember.

(To know where we are, we have to know where we came from. Memories fade. Sometimes this is good, sometimes bad. In either case refreshing those memories helps us appreciate the progress we have made in our lives. Helps us look at the triumphs and failures more clearly so we can plot the path we have walked with clarity. How can we know the next step is right for us, if we do not understand the steps we have taken?)

Turning Point……

Tomorrow is the day. Tonight, we eat, laugh, and play! 

Tomorrow you will stand before the house and recite what is required. What you know to be true.

Tomorrow you will state your desire in response to a question you have been asked many times.

“Stay or go?”

There is no right or wrong answer, only what you will. What you feel is right in your heart and best for you.

Do not be tempted to tell me now. I can see the want furling in your brow. Keep your council for the morning.

Whichever you choose, I am proud of you. You have worked hard, learned much, and been willing to grow. Grow you have. From a shy unsure wall flower into the center of a hurricane. Calm. Surrounded by a current so strong your movement ensures the attention of all around you. 

Whatever you do, I can only believe you will find success. You have learned that to try invites failure, but that failure is not the end. Only another chance to prevail. You have found an inner strength which allows you to stand in the middle of chaos and be confident you will find a way.

Wherever you go, rest easy knowing you have friends who will understand your heart. They may not always be easy to find, but they are there if you are willing to look for them. Others with an uncommon will and drive; compassion and loyalty; strength and passion for life and those they surround themselves with.

Enough of an old man’s sappy musings. Food and friends await.

Tomorrow is your day.

Erotica: The Master and The Monster

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**This story contains depictions of edge play in the forms of electricity, knives, blood, and implied consent/CNC.  The implied consent is based on the Total Power Exchange of an M/s dynamic.  It also references past trauma as experienced by the slave who tells this tale**

I am often overlooked down here as I sit quietly at Master’s feet.  There is a thick leather collar around my neck and a steel band, around my thigh, whose chain is secured to an eyebolt in the floor.  It keeps me in place while still allowing me a moderate amount of movement.  But Master always leaves my arms free.  He has done so since the first time someone felt it right to attack his property.

Since then, he has also kept my mouth covered with black cloth when I am not by his side.  

You see, I scare people.  Or so I have been told.

My previous Master had a sick sense of humor.  He liked to play with his toys until they were broken.  And if he twisted us enough, he was sure no one would take us.

I am one of the lucky ones.  I bare the fewest scars, but I look the most fearsome.

There is a deep cut from my forehead, through my right eye, and down past my ear.  He took my sight on that side with a single whiplash.  He had my teeth sharpened to points.  I’ve been told that when I smile, its horrific.  There are slices down my back from when he played too rough while he was drinking, and a couple burns on my right thigh.  But it is my face that keeps people away.

I am used to it now.  I don’t speak anymore unless Master asks me a question.  I don’t dream.  I don’t ask for anything and I never allow myself to crave anything.

I simply exist.

I exist for Master’s pleasure.

The taste of blood is frequent, even after all these years.  I constantly swipe my tongue over my teeth and they nick it in protest.  I find it soothing. It reminds me of meeting an old friend.

Master is too kind.  He treats me delicately.  He holds back.

It…hurts.

I can see the craving in his eyes to bend me back and take his pleasure.  I see the desire to take his Sadistic needs out on my flesh.

But then I see the hesitancy when he caresses my face.  When his thumb slides down the marred flesh, I see a caring that limits him with me.  I want to tell him it’s ok.  I want to shout that I am forever in his debt and he can do as he wishes.

But I don’t say a word.

What right do I have to direct Him or His actions?

So, I wait.

Maybe soon, he will notice me as more than just a monster.

Maybe.

Master is Sadistic.  Have I mentioned that?  He likes to watch someone’s body tighten, to see them sweat.  He likes to see them grit their teeth to take what he gives.  But, most of all, he likes to see the bliss on their face.  To see them get satisfaction from enduring what only he can provide.  He likes to see them happy….and sore.

And they fall all over Him.

I watch beauty after beauty prostrate before him.  I watch them bend and burn for him.  I watch their pain, and their passion, and I see their growing attachement to him.

Not one of them will come near me.  

But he draws them in like moths to a flame.

He is intoxicating.

I think Master gets enjoyment out of watching me.  See, I love to feel his fingers through my hair.  Often, I curl between his legs, with my back to his chair, and lean my head on his thigh.  And though I never let Master see, I am sure to give a smile full of teeth to every person I watch pass our room.

He chuckles darkly from time to time when someone gasps.  They all try to be nonchalant, but no one has Mastered it yet.

It amuses me.

It makes the passing of time easier until he takes me to our private chambers each night.

While this probably makes me ill-behaved, Master hasn’t chastised me yet.  So, I must be doing something right.

My eyes are closed when another visits.  As I crack my good eye open, I see it is a far cry from another grovelling slave.  It is another Master.  I know better than to meet his gaze.  There are some things even I cannot get away with.

But I take him in.  He wears nothing but black.  His t-shirt and jeans are as dark as coal.  His vest is dark but blazing with colors.  They are too blurry for me to read.  His boots are dirty.  I can tell he must live in them.

He speaks softly and passes Master a note. This must not be for a slave’s ears.

Master taps my head twice and I instantly move back to the side of his chair.  As Master stands, my hands slip under his cushion and pull the black cloth.  I slip it over my face, in time for Master to give me a nod of approval.  

I lean my head against the side of the chair and close my eyes.  I know Master will wake me when he needs me.

I am unsure of how much time has passed when I feel Master’s fingers in my hair.  I look up at him and he is grinning.  

Two snaps.

I move to kneel in front if him.  He leans forward and removes the cloth from my face.  His hand cups the side of my face and his thumb trails delicately over the scarring.

“I have a gift for you.”

I cock my head to the side.  A gift?  I am curious as to what I have done to earn such a privilege.  

“Thank you Master.”  I smile slightly, with my mouth closed.

“It will be delivered shortly.”

Two snaps.

I return to the side of his chair.  I face the door.  My curiosity has the best of me.

With my last Master, surprises meant pain.  They meant a lot of blood and a lot of crying. But this Master is kind.  He takes care of me.  He lets me sit on a cushion instead of the cold floors.  He keeps me fed.  And he doesn’t look at me with pity or disgust.

I am uneasy but I know it will be ok.  Whatever the surprise, I am sure he knows what he is doing.

He is a good Master.

A girl.  You have gifted me a girl, Master.  

Do I get to play?

I stared at the girl thrown at Master’s feet.  She is stoic.  She is breathing heavily.  She must be nervous.  She won’t look up from the floor.  She is also refusing to rise onto her knees.  Her intentions are clear.  She is intending to refuse her orders.

I don’t need to hear what was said previously to see what is happening.  Master is good at training.  She isn’t the first to be put before him.  But she is the first to be gifted to me.

She must have offended him.  He is sending a message to her, and her handler, that she has not earned the right to be touched by him.  She is not worth his time.

But she is worth mine.

She is a pretty little thing.  Her hair is black.  It is braided tightly and cascades down to her ass.  She is petite and her skin is bronzed.  She has spent many hours in the sun.  Her arms and legs are thin. She is definitely not a work slave. I wonder if she is new to the fold or possibly a house or pleasure slave.

She has the gold markings around her wrists and ankles.  The rest of her is bare.  

When she finally looks up, I smile.  I see her eyes widen and I can feel her fear.

It’s delicious.

Master rarely lets me play with others.  I tend to be fairly sadistic.  The other Masters don’t let me near their toys.  So often, I am left by Master’s chair while he plays with others.  Unless he brings out the electricity.  Then I get to watch.  He lays them across his table, mere feet from where I sit.

I find it fascinating.  Watching the girls squirm is entertaining.  He goes so gentle with some of them.  Especially those whose Masters stay nearby.  But those left to him to take his pleasure from get a whole different experience.

Their bodies bow off the table, akin to a scene from Frankenstein.  Their voices are breathy, save for a few who unwillingly curse at Master.  It’s amusing to see his reaction.

The result is always the same.  They leave his table shaking and sated.  His eyes glow and his body vibrates with energy. It’s those moments that he unleashes me and takes his pleasure.  It is those moments that I feel useful and owned.

It’s those moments, brought by the subjugation of others, that I stop feeling like a monster.

Master stands and turns towards me.  I kneel up, my back rigid and my eyes firmly on the floor.  I let out a deep, cleansing breath.  I feel him unlock the leather collar from my neck.  In its place, I feel the cold snap of the metal collar.  Its electrified.  Should I disobey, punishment is swift and merciless.  The electric collar always comes out to play when I am unleashed now.  Apparently fighting other slaves is not an approved behavior.

Then he unhooks a key from his belt, crouches down, and unlocks the iron around my thigh.  As he sets the iron down, I lean forward until my head is between his boots.  I kiss the left boot three times and repeat the action on the right before returning my forehead to the floor and whispering, “thank you Master.”

Master returns to his seat.

Two snaps.

I kneel back up.

“Entertain me, pet.”

At his words, I prowl forward on my hands and knees.

I hope she tries to run.

She is shaking.  

It is delightful.

I make sure I move enough to give Master a good show of my ass.  It takes me only a few steps to cross the room to her.  She isn’t moving.  In fact, she has stilled like prey.

Is it bad I wanted a fight, Master?

I reach out and run a finger down her side.  Her skin is cool to the touch.  I briefly wonder how long she has been uncovered on the cold floor before she was put here.  

She jerks away and I snap my jaw at her, as if poised to bite.  She screams.  Her arms reach out as if there were spots in the floor to pull her away from me.

My hand clamps down on her hip and I flip her into her back with little effort.  My arms are much stronger than hers.

I straddle her waist and pin her wrists down with my right hand.  My left wanders down the side of her face.

“What a pretty prize you are.”  My voice is low and gravelly.  I cannot speak much more than a whisper. I don’t really know why.  I can guess but it hasn’t mattered in a long time.  Slaves aren’t meant to speak.

I brought my fingers down, hovering slightly over her nipple.  I turned my head to glance at Master.  He nodded in confirmation.

I rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.  Her breath hitched.  She must be sensitive.  I tugged on it lightly before twisting it and letting go.  I flicked it several times before tugging and twisting again.  The more I did it, the more she arched under me.  When her nipple was engorged and aching, I switched my attention to her other nipple.  I swapped the hands holding her wrists and repeated the treatment. 

She is whining, low in her throat.  I can tell she is trying to be quiet.  She is trying to hold back.  

I click my tongue.  Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

I lean down to her ear so she can hear me clearly.  “You will scream for us before we are done sweetie.”  I licked the shell of her ear before returning to playing with my prize.

I let my nails drag across her stomach.  She is twisting beneath me.  My thighs can hold her tiny frame in place.  But I am excited to see her reactions.

It is much better play when the prey fights back.

I scoot my ass back a few inches until I am resting on her thighs.  I decide to see what she will do.  I let go of her wrists.

I lean back and rest on my haunches.  I stare her down.  I drag my nails down her chest, between the curves of her breasts.  Once my eyes left hers though, I learned my mistake.

I felt a hard smack to the side of my face.  My neck turned with the force.  I growled.  It’s not that she hit me Master.  Its that she hit me on my blindside.  That’s just dirty tactics.

I turned back to meet her eyes and I grabbed each of her wrists with my corresponding hands.  I gripped tightly.  I am trying not to bruise her…after all, she isn’t mine permanently.

I lean down near her shoulder and drag my top teeth across it.  They are sharp enough to draw blood.  I lap it up and hold it in my mouth.

I move her hands to her sides and kneel on them.  Then I grab her chin with bruising force and lean down to kiss her.  I let the blood, her blood, trickle into her mouth.  Then I cover her mouth with my hand until she swallows.

I watch her shudder.

She wants to hit me hard enough to taste blood, it is only fair to return the favor.

I lick the salty tears trailing down her face.  I am growing bored with her now.  

Master said I should entertain him.

An idea pops into my head.

I wrap her braid around my fist and move off her.  I give her a moment to flip over but she makes no effort to move.

So, I start dragging her.  She is begging me to let go.  But we both know how this works.  You go where directed or you are moved by force.

She made her choice.

I reach the wall and crouch down, still holding her hair. 

“Stand.  Or I will make you.”

She moves with purpose this time.  I stand her up, her back to the wall, and attach a metal cuff to each wrist.  They are above her head, stretched out to an X shape, leaving her standing on the balls of her feet.

Endurance.  That was a lesson I struggled with myself.  Let’s see if she can do better.

I roughly grab both her nipples without warning, pinching and pulling them away from her body.  Her feet are dancing, trying to alleviate the pain.

I lean in and bite the side of each breast, semi-gently.  I want her to heal.  As the blood begins to slowly seep out, I let her nipples go and watch her body bounce back in relief.

The blood is glistening.  It excites me.

I turn from her and kneel, facing Master.  My lips are still red from tasting her.  I keep my eyes down, waiting for the command to come back.

Instead, I hear his boots on the cement.  I still the quivering in my body.  I am riled up from playtime and I crave his touch.

His boots come into view and I immediately lean forward with my head on the floor.

Two snaps.

I am kneeling upright again.

Two snaps.

I climb it my feet and put my hands on my elbows behind my back.

Two snaps.

My eyes move to meet his.

He is grinning.  I can see the Sadistic glint in his eyes.

He pulls me forward by the electric collar and growls into my ear.  “You’ve done well, pet.”

He pulls my hair into his fist and tilts my neck before biting down at the juncture of my neck and shoulder.  My hands break rank as I grab for his shirt.  He knows this will bring me to my knees.  Harder and harder he bites until my first knee hits the ground.  I let out a breathy sound just before my second knee drops.  I can smell the copper tang.  He drew blood.

My head is tilted back and as he kisses me, my own blood trickles between my lips.  It is warm.  His tongue his hot against mine.  It is almost dizzying.  When he pulls back, I swallow the remaining liquid and stare up at him.  I feel drunk now.  When he lets go of my hair, my body slumps, heaving great breaths.  

Master really is intoxicating.

I almost forgot we had a guest.  Then I heard the tell-tale whine.  She is rattling the chains.  She is starting to give me a headache.  

She is interrupting my bliss.

I growl again and climb back to my feet, turning to face her.  I take the first step towards her and Master halts me with his hand.

I still.  I am dissatisfied with the direction, but I know better than to question it.  

He moves away from her and puts a finger to his lips to keep me silent.  I see where he is headed and I finally understand why.

I watch as he grabs his knife and tucks a cord through his belt.  He has just turned himself into a conduit for electricity.

He’s going to play with her.

He is going to paint her pretty with fine red lines of electric current through the tip of his blade.

She won’t know what hit her.

I can hear the soft buzzing of the electricity.  I am positive she can too, especially how this room echoes.

I am watching Master move.  His steps are light but sure.  He stays just out of her sight.  I can see the soft stains of the blood marks and sweat intermingling on her flesh.  It is both erotic and enticing.

I catch Master’s eye.  He smirks and I watch as he licks the blade from base to tip.  I shiver.  He is teasing me.  I doubt if he even feels the electricity anymore.  I am positive it must run through his veins.

He lays the blade flat on her stomach, covering her navel.  I know she won’t get much of a jolt with such a broad surface but the cold with react with the heat of her skin.

Sure enough, she looks down and tries to press herself back against the wall.  I am amused.  If there is something sharp touching you, it is best practice not to move.

But adrenaline and fear will often override common sense.  That’s what makes it so delicious.

Master slowly lifts the blade and turns it on its tip.  He drags it from her naval, up between her breasts, and slowly across both shoulders before sliding it back down.  He follows the path a couple of times, watching her.  She is mesmerized by the movement.  Where he turns the blade, her gaze follows.

He slides it down her breast, circling the dark patch around her nub.  He taps the blade against her nipple.  She gasps.  I watch him repeat the process to the other side before he reaches towards his belt.  He turns up the current.  The next round will be harsher.

Again and again, he works her over.  Turning the current up and down without warning.  He slides the blade up her thighs and across her stomach.  He tortures her nipples with both the blade and his hands.  He makes her stick out her tongue and he touches the tip of the blade to it.

I flinch.  I know that feeling.

I can smell her arousal.  It lingers in the air.  As much as she whines and cries, her body is betraying her.  Her sensitivity is heightened.  Instead of running away, her body arches towards him now.

They all break for him in the end.

He warns her not to move.  He drags the blade softly across her hips and down to her hood.  He reaches back and turns off the current for a moment, sheathing his knife.

I watch him mercilessly take two fingers and start rubbing her clit.  He does not give her any respite.  He keeps the pressure heavy and the movements fast.  

She moans and cries and begs him.  A littany of pleases leave her lips and he pays her no mind.  When she reaches the edge, he stops.  

Her body curls in on herself as tears form on her lashes.

He turns the current back on and runs the blade over her skin again and again.  Once he sees her body settle into the play, he flips it off and brings her to the edge again.

This time though, when he stops, he keeps her lips spread, turns the current back on, and taps the blade over and over against her clit.

I know from experience how sharp the sensation is.  But when you are in the state she’s in, it doesn’t matter much.

All you want is more.

Her chest is heaving.  I can tell she is tiring out. So can Master.

He has me sit down on the floor as he removes her restraints.  Her head rests on the floor next to me.  

I run my fingers through her hair.  Being worked over and left on edge is a hard lesson.  

She will be fine in a little while.

Master rubs her down with a burn cream.  We want her to heal.

Her eyes are only half-open, and the fight has left her.  She shivers from the cold floor.  

Master locks a matching electrical collar around her neck before he picks her up.  He moves to the other side of the room.  He opens the door to one of the iron cages, lined with wool blankets, and lays her gently inside.

He locks the door.

“Keep her company, pet.  She’s ours now.”