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
This idea scared me from the start. If this went wrong there was a very real chance of serious injury or death. I weighed it up for ages. Besides the element of danger existing in this scenario there was the chance that this could push her too far. Was it worth going ahead with? …
We booked the dungeon we liked. It was not in the best of conditions but it was affordable. The equipment provided was quite good, the things I most regretted was the manual hand cranks installed instead of mechanic hoists. There was a wrestling room upstairs where we always enjoyed spending some time play wrestling. I think she probably enjoyed it more than I did, it was her chance to get some revenge 😉
After a couple of hours play I told her to lay on the medical bed and I proceeded to tie her down with all the straps. Wrists, arms, chest, waist, thighs and ankles. I left the neck strap off.
I lay my head down for a second and shook off another dizzy spell. Why did I occasionally get them when we were playing? This time I was lucky and hadn’t got one otherwise I would never have gone with this scenario. This dizzy spell I was feigning, as I did the other few I had had in the hours preceding. And she was buying it. Excellent!
I lifted her head as if I was about to attach a gag or something. But very quickly, before she had a second to realise what was going on, I pulled the clear plastic bag over her head. Quickly I taped the opening around her neck down to prevent air from entering. She had no way of knowing I had cut both of the corners off the bag so that some air still got in.
She started thrashing around.
“What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy? Get this off me!!!”
“Calm down, relax! You going to run out of air quicker if you panic! Relax!” I said as I grabbed her shoulders firmly.
“I don’t like this. I never consented to anything like this. This is stupid!”
Another “dizzy spell” and I lay me head on her shoulder. This dizzy spell was longer than the others and I raised my hands to my head. “I hope this doesn’t freak her out too much!” I pretended to stumble and collapsed to the ground. Her screech was piercing! “Shit can anyone hear that outside?” But still I lay there, looking at her “losing her shit” in the mirror near the ceiling. How long should I wait? She was thrashing around screaming my name and screeching for help. In the mirror I could see the bag misting up. I wouldn’t be able to see her face for much longer. I suddenly stood up and ripped the bag open where her mouth was. As she drew a massive gasp of air into her lungs, I whispered “How is that for fear play?” and thrust my fingers deep into her vagina.
Let’s just say she didn’t take this scenario too well. Even after her orgasms had subsided I had to calm her down and explain how I had set it all up and that she was in minimal danger throughout.
Eventually she calmed and the restraints could be removed …
Outside the hotel entrance I waited for her to arrive. We had stayed or rather played at this hotel before. It was quite good. Modern interiors, clean, lovely en-suite bathroom and very quite floors. The one unpleasant thing I could remember about the previous visit to this hotel was how hot it was. That was more down to her than the hotel or room. I can remember turning to her and asking her if we could doze off not cuddling because she was “like a furnace tonight” and there was way too much heat coming from her side of the bed. Strange as it was usually her that was sensitive to temperature.
Old Street, London is not the best place to be waiting for someone outside on a cold winters night. “Hope she gets here soon.” Just then I caught her silhouette coming bouncing, dancing down the street. She was always so full of happiness when we met for a play date. We walked through the front doors hand in hand carrying the big bag full of kinky toys and equipment. “Someone really needs to look into making lightweight toys. Or maybe I should just stop buying every second thing I come across.”
As we approached the reception desk the guy behind it looked up from the monitor screen and smiled at me. “Mr TTT we have been expecting you, room 126 please.” He handed me the key and I turned to walk down the corridor. Perfect, just as I had arranged with him when I checked in earlier. She looked a little confused at the exchange between me and the receptionist but didn’t question it. As we walked past the cafe I spotted the businessman in the grey suit that I had struck up a conversation with earlier. I smiled and nodded towards him, he reciprocated back. 😉
As we approached the room I noticed a couple opening the door to the room next to ours. “Ohhh perfect!!!” “Hi there.” I said, as I walked by them. The couple turned and I met the guys eyes with “How are you?!” and a naughty wink 😉 His expression didn’t change as he returned with “Hello.” Out of the corner I saw his partner smile as we reached our door.
“Ohhh that couldn’t have worked out better!” I could literally feel my partners brain turning over, confused but all three of these exchanges.
As soon as we were inside the room, she started undressing. She knew what I liked … I lay the bag down between the bed and desk. When I turned back to her all she had on was her panties which she had her thumb in just about to take off. I had asked her to wear the sexiest underwear she owned.
“What are you doing? Keep you underwear on!” She looked a little confused as she started putting her bra back.
“Did you bring your heels?” I asked as I helped her hook her bra back on.
“I did, but what for?”
“Never mind, you look fantastic. Go put them on.”
I headed over to the bed and sat down as she dug into her bag for her heels and put them on.
“Come sit.” I said, tapping the mattress next to me.
“Babe, you know I love you and would do nothing to harm you. Today is one of those days I need you to just trust me, no matter what.”
She looked alarmed.
I ignored her question. “I am not too keen on doing this. But I don’t know how else to come up with the money to pay for your £8000 credit card bill.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Just trust me angel. Be nice, smile and keep the brat away. Promise me!”
“I am scared. Tell me what you are talking about?”
“We aren’t here to play, well we are but not the way you think.”
Her expression was a mix of confusion and dread.
“We are going to walk upstairs and into a hall. I want you to be sexy and confident. You will only be wearing that underwear and the heels.”
I reached over and cupped her face in my right hand.
“This is going to be a slave auction, angel. Whoever bids the highest you will be playing with tonight. In the morning I will meet you for breakfast and we will be leaving together.”
She turned away, stood up and with an angry look on her face, uttered ” What the hell. Are you crazy? No way, forget it!”
I stood up, grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her face to mine. “Do as I tell you! You think I want this? How else are we going to pay for your credit card? I don’t want that hanging over you forever. All the money we make tonight will go towards it.”
“I can’t, don’t make me do this, please!!! We can find another way. Anything else.”
“I don’t care! We are doing this! Now lets go, it starts in 10 minutes.”
I pushed her towards the door ahead of me. I could feel the tension in her body as she was reluctantly urged forward. When we reached the door I reached past her, opened the latch and started opening the door. She moved slightly aside, away from the opening and winced.
I slammed the door shut and with my forearm on the back of her neck forced her face against the door.
“Pull yourself together damnit. Stop being such a baby! I swear if you fuck this up you are going to regret it!”
“Ok I will, I’ll be good. Sorry” She said, clearly fighting the urge to refuse and run.
I moved my arm away from pinning her to the door and used it to pull her back towards the door opening.
As I again reached past her and grabbed the latch I said gently “Ohh one more thing … how is that for fear play?”
The penny dropped. There was no auction. She whirled around as the words “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” escaped her and planted a massive wet kiss on me.
A magnificent start to our kinky night.
I had never come across the term fear play until K mentioned she had seen a performance demonstrating it. A guy ties a girl up, brings over a fire extinguisher and places it next to her. He then proceeds to play with some flames … he then blindfolds her and pours (what smells like) fuel over her. Fear play.
I didn’t sound like anything I was particularly interested in, other than as a performance piece. Not for kink play, not my thing. But the seed was planted.
As we sometimes did, we had hired an Airbnb apartment in London and were enjoying a wonderful evening of kinky play. The beds headboard was one of those with vertical metal bars, evenly spaced. At one point I dragged the bed away from the wall and told K to sit at the head of the bed, putting her legs through the vertical metal bars. The bars were just the correct width. She placed a leg through one of the openings and as instructed fed her other leg through another but left an opening between the two she had legs in. With her feet then restrained to the beds legs it gave me easy access to her vagina. But that wasn’t what I was after, it was what I wanted her to think I was after. I restrained her arms and hung her breasts over the headboards top rail. Her limbs were completely restrained and she was helpless to move away. Perfect!
I walked away and went over to my bag of tricks. I pulled out something I had just purchased the day before. Not being into fishing I was surprised how difficult it was to find a fish and tackle shop in central London. But I found one and asked the shop owner for the biggest, scariest hook he had. “It’s not for fishing.” I told him. He handed me the biggest one he had, very sharp and with a nasty barb.
I took the hook over to K but hid it from her view. I proceeded to tease and torment her before finally pulling out the big scary hook. Her eyes opened wide and her expression changed to shock as she stared at the hook being held in front of her face.
“Whats that for?”
“I want to try feeding this through your skin. You always say you want to play with medical staples. Lets see maybe we like this.”
Her face didn’t show any signs of someone curious to try a kinky new game. Quite the opposite, she looked apprehensive.
I let my fingers slide along her right breast and gently held onto her nipple. I then brought the hook towards the nipple. She grimaced and looked away.
“No! I am scared.”
“Don’t worry. I am not going to hurt you.”
“Do you even know what you are doing?” She asked.
“I had Crazy Dave show me what to do. Don’t worry.” Crazy Dave (I have changed his name for this post) is a performer who’s performances include hooks through skin and that sort of thing. We had met him a while back at a party but no, I had not asked him for his advice. That was just another layer I added for K.
“I am scared, I don’t want to do this!”
“Well, that’s what RED is for.” I knew she hated using the safe word and would often rather suffer whatever she was being subjected to than use RED. But I honestly didn’t know if she would be able to stop herself from using it now.
I brought the hook closer again and let it rest against her skin. She winced and took a big gasp of breath.
“I hope I don’t fuck this up.” I added.
She tensed up even more and pulled her face away. I felt her leg that I was resting my arm on start to shake. Not a little shiver or shudder, but uncontrollable shaking. She was petrified.
I started to sink the hook into the skin just behind her nipple. Careful to not even break the skin but enough to have her feel the hook biting. Still she didn’t use her safety word. I then realised she was prepared to let me go ahead with this. My heart melted.
“K. K.” She didn’t react.
“K. I need to say something to you.” She turned her face to mine, her eyes wet, the skin on her face ashen, her lips dry.
“How is that for fear play?”
Almost instantly her face turned from terrified to just pissed off. But she bit her lip, smiled and laughed.
… true story
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
What I am?
I am man
Not alpha man
A soft, quieter man
Often gentle lamb
Yet unmistakably ram
A father I am
Twins I fathered my man!
Father and husband I am
Not husband for long, the plan
The plan? A free man!
Weird yet ordinary man
Morally grey at best I am
Too twisted for you ma’am?
I’m comfortable with who I am
You not? I don’t give a damn!
A kinky man, that I am
A kinky sadist I am
I ain’t a domly dom, man!
When I need to I can
But natural born sadist I am!!
Not bacon or bourbon man
Instead a bbq and rum fan
Bald, bearded, tattooed I am
Leather kilted, flogger in hand
Wham, wham, wham, wham!!
Night creature I am
On the dancefloor a happy man
From blues to metal a fan
Clubnight, gig or jam
Fetish events? Hot damn!!
What I am?
I am soft, gentle, quite, easy going, rum drinking, bbq eating, tattooed, dancing, kinky, bottom spanking, sadistic human.
… it’s really one of the easiest things to achieve. Some of the most intelligent people I know are subs. Don’t be surprised to get into a conversation with a submissive, about something of a little more substance than the weather, only to find the conversation elevate way beyond your level of understanding, knowledge or acumen. Of course this level of intellect isn’t confined to the submissive clan and can just as easily be found in the dominants or the herds of livestock we refer to as vanillas. But it astounds me how the brilliant mind of a sub can be turned to mush with the greatest of ease.
K fell within this category (past tense only because she is no longer in my life). Beautifully sharp mind but the second the rope fibers bit into her skin … mind paralysis. Sometimes to the point where the ability to use safety words was impossible. This is the point where I had to be on guard. One wrong move and there could be some serious damage. Flashback of trying to lift an unconscious body to free her from the buckles and take the pressure off the restraints. Let me tell you the feeling of having my loved ones limp body in my hands, not knowing if I have just taken her life, is not one I want to be repeating. She survived that, we survived that and our link grew stronger. As did the ability to shut that brain down.
It isn’t just confined to ropework either. A hard flogging session can have similar effects on a submissive brain. The combination of a restrained body and the neuroelectric charge generated by impact play can cripple the mind of the hardiest of subs. Many subs seek to escape to this subspace as their minds refuge from the drama, pain or turmoil their mind usually finds itself in as a result of everyday life problems, trauma or abuse. Are you looking for a submissive to give you complete submission (or close to) then neutralise that brain and let them escape into their subspace.
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