Longing for my old kink life back

I have been away from a kinky life and everything that goes with it for over a year. This is some of what I miss about that kinky life and also K (as she was the only real kinky partner I had for any substantial length of time).

I miss …

The sweet and smokey smell of rope oil
The same beautiful smell on her skin
The sting of her skin against my palm
The combined taste of sweat, rope and leather

All the parties with sexy friends and strangers
All the amazing outfits (latex, leather, pvc)
All the people playing, dancing and sexing
All the performances both pro and amateur

The markets full of collars, floggers, toys and more
The classes, demonstrations and even the munches
The dungeons filled with hours of agony and ecstasy
The furniture creatively crafted for kinky filth

Our forum where we share, discover and exhibit
Our openness and acceptance of all, irrespective …
Our hunger to explore, to live, to enjoy, to experience
Our lifestyle … all us beautiful kinksters

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A Sadist Looks In A Mirror

The term sadist, I hated at first. Cruel, grim, tough, dangerous, harmful  … does not define who and what I am! I failed to see the beauty in the term “sadist”. I was seeing it the way someone outside the kink community sees it. “Sadists” bring Nazis, murderers and all kinds of human garbage to mind.

It has become a term I cherish, for at least in one aspect of my life it defines me very accurately. What is a sadist, in the kinky sense of the word? Simply, someone who derives pleasure from inflicting pain on another. I don’t expect the majority of people to understand. That’s ok, it’s not for the majority of people. I get that. How can someone get turned on and enjoy hurting another? How can you disrespect and treat someone so badly as to inflict suffering and pain on them just for your sexual gratification? I have cared for and often loved everyone I have “played” with. Anyone I have played with has consented to these sadistic acts I performed on them. Most (all, I hope) derived pleasure from the acts themselves or / and the results of those acts.

Bdsm was something I was turned on by from an early age. It took me a long time to gain the courage to enter that world. Turned out there was very little to be apprehensive about. Everyone was so welcoming and it was so very easy and chilled. I felt like finally coming home. But the first time I played with someone I didn’t feel comfortable. My second playmate became a more regular partner. I started feeling more comfortable. Then I fell for a masochist. She completely changed my world. We fell in love but even without that she helped me open up to my inner sadist. Love and trust helped me and us to explore this world of bdsm deeper and deeper. I have no interest in becoming a student of the lifestyle. Not interested if my technique is correct or what I should or should not be doing … I did what came naturally, what I wanted to, the way I wanted to … Sometimes it was like walking on ice but that’s what playing on the edge is. It was magnificent. I was born again if you like.

There is a title I do not go by and that people often associate with me. That term is dom. Dominant. That I feel I am not. Sure you can be dom and a sadist, am many usually are. But I am not. I am sadist … not domly dom dom … Not naturally anyway. I can be if the scenario requires it and its not too uncomfortable a push getting me there. I will not have you crawling around on all fours, calling me sir or master, kissing my feet, performing humiliating tasks. NOPE. Restrained (even contorted), screaming out (even crying) as your mind gets overwelmed by pain and waves of pleasure, finding new ways to push you to the very edge and dangle you there before allowing you release. Yes, yes, yes. That’s me.
I have been with a submissive partner who I have sensed has paused and is awaiting my instruction … waiting to be told … to be commanded … Siiggghhh … really? Arrrghh, I hate the pressure. Now I need to come up with something good. Damn can’t we just have sex instead? Oh wait, I am in charge. Get over here! … haahaahaa.

Go give your local sadist a big hug.
We don’t bite … well, unless we really, really like you 😉 :p

 

 

Lost friend

When I first met you … I didn’t get you at all
What were you about? All hype and no substance
Friends saying you were so great but you offered me nothing
For a good year I tried but got nowhere with you

Time passed and some new friends reintroduced us
I started seeing you in a new light, and wow …
I hold my hands up and apologise … I was wrong
What a fantastic friend you turned out to be

You basically ran my social life
You knew what I would be doing long before I did
All the amazing people you knew
And so many that you shared with me

Sharing friends, events, stories, experiences …
A true friend in every sense, you looked out for me
Not discriminating against sex, colour, kink …
You rocked my world, you changed my world

I haven’t seen you for close to a year now
Coming back to you would crush my soul
It’s not you, it’s where I am in life
But hopefully it’s only temporary

I miss you old friend
I miss those around you
I miss all you gave me
I miss you … fetlife