Truth be told

Truth be told, I despise the cold, the chill to the bone that makes me feel old

Frozen in place hands over my face, I see the scene now set in place

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Polaroids spread on the table, the rope slung high in the stable

Under the pictures a silver disk, on it written she really wanted this

The camera still on the pod as I put it in, a flicker then the show begins

Arms tied and held over her head, unkept hair draped down the head

Bedraggled locks falling over her face, pictures frozen in time locked in place

The expression torn from time, that look of anticipation or sublime

Red flesh from heavy hands show clear, his game of pleasure and fear

She was just his toy along for the ride, his canvas to display with pride

Another picture showing the thick hand, she is no match for this powerful man

Her lithe body a plaything for his desire, that look in her eyes is a burning fire

Pulled close to his face she can feel his hot breath, a kiss that is taken at his behest

She could only struggle and fight in place, he had control in this dank place

The smell of hay in the old stall she was held in, his paradise to enjoy again

A nook that opened with a flip on the latch, implements hung for use inside that

A shiver had to have run along her spine, his fingers touching her so divine

The bench perfectly set in place, bent over and fastened in the space

Shuffling around the photos seeing what was done, seeing as she came undone

The flogger licking her flesh that glowed bright, such a sweet beautiful sight

I can imagine the sounds of her gasps echoing, his work undisturbed harrowing

On her toes as her body strains and writhes, the waves of pleasure crashes and subsides

His fingers rough now explore her wetness, her face flush, her thoughts anyone guess

A thrust as she shrieks at the sudden invasion, cold floods her from his creation

Glass toy left in a bucket of cold water, to cool the heat which he brought her

Parched lips now wetted from his finger, the taste of her wetness now lingers

The straw offered tastes of sweet juice as she sips, the cold fades inside her lips

A minute for her to recoup her composure, now again his hands take over

His hands grip hard into the tender flesh, rubbing and kneading her tender ass

No warning as the implement is quickly pulled out, hollow inside as she thrashes about

She whimpers and begs for him to take her, his hand strikes hard as he spanks her

Howls and shrieks as she was unprepared, everything his plan carefully prepared

The tempo staccato as his hand works feverishly, her ache now a burning need

Begging and pleading her voice now his song as the rhythm goes along

One hand working over her bright red flesh, the over exploring her slippery wetness

Over the edge in a crashing cascade she explodes, pent up need suddenly unloads

Milking every moment of ecstasy as she shakes, his mind inventory now takes

The rope appears and is lashed around a breast, she gasps, he works fast

Then another, her breast bound as he smiles, he had a plan all the while

A clothes pin snaps and she shudders as words like smacks he utters

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Each clip fastened she arches off the bench more, now untied with feet on the floor

Again, her hands are bound over her head, he stands back as she watches in dread

Flicking and playing with the rowel on the wheel, she ached to know how it would feel

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First a special touch for his evil plan, a bar to keep her feet apart as she would stand

Exposed to him, she was totally at his mercy, her cries brought him such glee

Each breast now felt the bite of the wheel, no words for what she should feel

Now she was lost in a world so surreal, she was his toy the images revealed

A blindfold next he used to cover her eyes, now everything would be a surprise

Unable to look away as he took her like a savage man, I knew this was part of his plan

Her anticipation as his moved his things around, gaging her reaction to each sound

The sound of the blade sent a chill over her skin, his hot breath as he said shall we begin

That moan as his hand slid along her chest, his hand on her throat she leaned back to rest

Teasing her body, sliding it over her skin, the cold steel on hot flesh a gasp I took in

Sliding between her thighs as his lips caressed down her spin, he growled and said you are mine

I jumped as I saw him raise quickly, she wailed as he plunged the handle to fill her need

He invaded her with the rough handle holding the blade, that look of pleasure on display

On her toes she was primal and screaming, I could not stop watching what was streaming

Pulling the handle out he tossed it to the floor, in a single thrust she was begging for more

Savage animal lust as he painted her skin, his red prints on her breast as she was full of him

His hand on her throat as he grunted and thrust, both lost in primal lust

The crimson running down over she soft flesh, my eyes fixated on what came next

A beastly roar as he unleashed his pent-up need, she shook as he used her in his greed

Holding tight for a minute he finally relaxed, then took her down and laid her on the sack

Cuddling her his hand running through her hair, it was just the two of them without a care

As the flicker turned to static there was a shock, need took over as I shook

A shower nearby I needed to take a moment to cool down, before I headed back to town

Turning the water on it was cold as ice, I took a deep breath and washed off my vice

Truth be told I hate the cold, but the film I had just watch made me feel nothing but bold.

Come see who else is being wicked

”Wicked
 

BDSM and limits

The topic this week is how sexual is BDSM to you. For me this brings up so many different ideas and scenarios, thinking back over a couple decades of various kinds of scenes and categories of play. Different partners, locations and styles I have engaged in or with. At the end of the day it really is all about how far you are willing to take things. What are the things one wants to explore, are there limits that are soft and where is that do not cross line? The mind of my partner is just as sexy as their body. I enjoy sharing ideas or possible scenes and letting thoughts sink in as the anticipation grows till it is almost tangible, it is a type of foreplay for me. Negotiating a scene/relationship is something that may seem tedious but in the end it is necessary for any healthy engagement.

Several times I have been asked what are my personal limits, is there I line I will not cross. If you have been reading my blogs for a while you would know I tend to push the boundaries and can make many people uncomfortable. I will admit I get a sadistic thrill of reading how a scene sent a cold chill running down someone’s spine. I am not without personal limits though and I will share a few here.

I respectfully refuse to engage with someone that say they have no limits; everyone has something that is out of bounds for them. To hear someone say they have no limits means possibly they do not have a  understanding of the BDSM world, potentially they lack a sence of self-respect or preservation. It only takes a couple of questions to figure out which it is. With the former a little education and suddenly it turns from a kinky conversation to an explanation of things in the kink world and possibly a scene later. For the latter I suggest they find help. Some just like the idea of danger, but a few are seriously looking for harm from another. I could write a whole blog about those I have encountered that are looking for someone else to do them harm but that is not what this post is about.

Another absolute rule and definite hard limit for me is the use of alcohol or drugs before a scene. A drink or two depending of what is being consumed I might consider but when it becomes a point of impairment then I will simply walk away. If someone needs to alter their mind or lower their inhibitions to allow a scene to happen then in my humble opinion it is most likely past the comfort zone of that individual. I did not come to this personal limit arbitrarily, in fact there was a time when it did not matter either way to me. With age comes wisdom I guess, plus a couple mornings of regretting the previous nights actions. I get it, not everyone agrees on this, but it is my limit.

Consent is my last hard limit here; some would say that is an oxymoron given my proclivity toward CNC (consensual non-consensual) and RACK (Risk Assessed Consensual Kink) but there is a huge difference between consensual play seeming like it is from a non-consensual direction and actual non-consent. A CNC scene takes a lot of time, trust and effort, limits have to be discussed in detail, wants and desires need to be clear and concise. There is always, always, always a safe word that can be the fallback if things get too sideways for either party. Yes, I did just say either party, because as a responsible dominant, top, whatever you call the lead aggressor in a scene, he or she needs to be aware that the object of their attentions is still another human beings with normal physical limitations. This goes for RACK scenes as well. Even though risky and exciting situations can be fun the top must always be mentally aware of the potential danger they are putting the other person in, even though they have full consent. Why do I put it all on the Top? Because simply put when a submissive allows them to be put in a situation like that they literally are trusting you with their life, health and mental wellbeing. For those that understand this goes without saying but when a bottom gets into what we call subspace their thinking is altered. The lines between pain and pleasure blur, danger becomes some abject thing that does not really exist, previously discussed limits become flexible. In other words, they are extremely vulnerable and could be easily manipulated. If those boundaries are broken, the limit pushed past, lines of consent ignored they may seem to enjoy it at the time but once it is all said and done there will be damage to deal with. After any scene they will crash and need to be comforted, then they will begin to process what they experienced, if all went well and according to the preset negotiation then they will be happy and content. If not, they will feel guilty, angry, betrayed and lash out in some manner, from angry words to legal action against the person who they allowed to be in control of them.

Yes, I know I got a little off topic it seems but for me the ultimate sexual satisfaction for me is what I would call a perfect scene. One where every party enjoyed, we connected mentally as well as physically, even if what is typically perceived as sexual actions never occurred. Clothing does not have to come off, though yes, I do enjoy that as well. It is the satisfaction of a scene well done. That is how sexual satisfaction in BDSM works for me.

come see who else is being wicked this week

”Wicked
 

Greg

Greg was rather proud of himself for his ingenious idea on how he pulled it off.
“It was all fantasy” Sandy said, her voice trembling as his wicked smile grew even bigger “Just a game to help get us both off with.”

Trigger warning as is common with most of my blogs, This post is a continuation of last weeks wicked Wednesday. Hope you enjoy.

Greg sneered as he walked over to the bench. As his thick hands fiddled with the bench, he turned and looked back at Sandy, he could see her sweating in nervous anticipation. It had slowly been planned from the first personality he had presented to her, a plan he gradually let play out till he got enough information to make it happen. He always got excited hearing her fantasies and how many wicked things she wanted to happen to her. Each session she would end by saying, of course this is just fantasy because it could never happen, right? Everything was possible but not all were practical. The hardest part was her desire to be kidnapped by a total stranger.

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Lights illuminate the arched windows of an abandoned building next to puddles in the mud.

Greg was rather proud of himself for his ingenious idea on how he pulled it off. He was worried the kidnapping part would fail and he would have to skedaddle or worse, get in caught and arrested. Setting up his den of sin, as he called it when describing the empty building to her, was easy by compare. Five years of preparation went into his plan, saved emails and conversations. Greg’s favorite part were the pictures she would send. Some were of her trying to make herself look like a damsel in distress, others were pictures she sent him, everything she sent was saved. Greg smiled as he turned on the projector and the pictures began to beam onto the white wall near the arranged devices of torment.

Sandy gasped as the opening was a picture taken long ago, it was a naughty girl’s only party where she had been handcuffed, gagged and made to look helpless and at the mercy of anyone there. Her eyes scanned the small tables he was preparing, assorted paddles and impact devices were on display at one supposed station. Another table held electric devices, a violet wand, electric stimulation unit, even what looked like a Hitachi wand with some built in shocking head aptly named the Zeus. The krewe de gras in the center was a device of Greg’s own making, a harness type table Sandy could be secured to and manipulated in any position he wished. Built in total secrecy, it was a one of a kind made just for Sandy.

He walked over to where she was tied, Sandy struggled against her bonds as his hand slid along the outside of her arm.

“Now, now my dear, I am sure you know what all I have planned for you. After all we have spoken in great depth about all the things you have wanted to try but were too scared to tell anyone, well anyone you knew in real life.”

“It was all fantasy” Sandy said, her voice trembling as his wicked smile grew even bigger “Just a game to help get us both off with.”

“That was all just foreplay my dear, now this is the main event. Time to pay the piper I would say. Or do you prefer put up or shut up?” Greg’s voice suddenly dark and ominous “Of course I will allow you a safe word if things get over your head. It is one you told me was your favorite a while back, just say it and that part of your evening will end and we will move on.”

Sandy’s mind raced as she tried to think of what safe word he was talking about. Before her mind could fix on any one word his rough hands grabbed her and he stood her up. His hot breath in her face as he manhandled her to the bench and forcefully strapped her down. A pair of scissors made quick work of her clothing as he cut away, leaving her nude and exposed to him. As her mind tried to comprehend what was happening, she could see the impact items laid out as he fingered each one lovingly. His hand rested on a small leather paddle. It had a kind of fur on one side and the other was raised knobs like the back of decorative furniture tacks. It looked like a toy in his big hands as he picked it up. A push of the button and music started to play. Some of the featured tracks he had come to enjoy listening to as they chatted online about her desires. The first few hit were so light it almost made Sandy think he was losing his nerve. The fur really felt nice and tickled a little on her skin. Gradually they became firmer and with the tempo of the music. The heavy base thumped as the paddle landed over and over, the intensity and warm feeling in her exposed ass grew. Before long, her head felt like she was in a different world, she had all but forgotten her dire situation as Greg had made her tender bum hot and red. He ran his hand along her well warmed ass a few times. Caressing and cupping her beautiful flesh.

“Such a naught little girl, I see you have become aroused.”

Sandy felt ashamed for a moment then it passed quickly as she felt a cold metal device being inserted into her dripping wetness. Some form of harness held it in place as he pushed a button and a tingle ran though her. He laughed as he set the electric pulses to the beat of the music. Picking up a flogger he began to take his time to match the tempo. Sandy’s eyes glazed over as she could not fight back the growing wave that was beginning to crest inside her. Her yelp of pleasure as the wave crashed over her echoed off the wall.

Greg stopped the flogging and turned off the device. Sandy was a drooling mess as he laughed. There was the sound of a door slamming shut and someone in a security guard uniform walked in. Sandy was saved! Greg backed up and set down the flogger. For a moment she expected him to run.

“What are you doing sir?” the young man demanded from across the room

“Good sir this is my warehouse and you are trespassing.” Greg said firmly

“What kind of freak show is going on here? Ma’am are you, all right?”

Sandy wasn’t sure, her mind wanted to scream she had been kidnapped but her body was begging for more.

“I..I… I am fine sir.” Sandy caved as her desire won over her common since.

“Well good,” the young man said, “Hope you don’t mind me staying and watching, you never know when you will need a third person for things like this.”

Greg smiled as the two embraced. “I told you she would break easily Sam.”

”Wicked
 

I am Disgusted

I am disgusted, enraged, revolted and otherwise just outright ashamed at the recent events in the kink blogging community. I will not be naming names or calling people out, I am seething, waiting for the childish hateful attacks to stop. If someone’s feeling or ego are so fragile they shatter like glass over a post that they took in a way so few have, then maybe they might want to look closer at their own self and do some soul searching. I am all for supporting friends and acquaintances but not at the cost of being divisive in our community that is already under heavy scrutiny and disdain from much of society.

These recent activities I have witnessed seem more like a pack of coyotes trying to take down prey rather than an honest mistake or blatant attack on the person or group that claims to have been wronged. To claim that someone apology was disingenuine or just for show will never allow them to ever be able to make amends. It is a militant mindset that disavow someone’s apology while constantly escalating till only their opinion is being touted loud and clear as if it is the only correct view.

It is disheartening to watch as bloggers that have supported and worked together for years now take sides. Suddenly there are lines in the sand, people that we are not supposed to talk or associate with. What happened to my kink is my kink and I can support others even if it is not my thing? Together we are a powerful force to be reckoned with, divided there will be infighting till only ashes of a once thriving community existed. As kink bloggers will we allow this to happen? I know tensions are high with all that is going on in the world, but people wake up, put aside the petty differences and allow an apology to be accepted. I consider those who will not accept an apology as the aggressor and danger to the community. The person/s trying to cause the fractures are a plague and the covid-19 of the blogging world.

For now, I will continue to blog what I feel like, write what I want to write. Participate where I enjoy participating and share what I feel like sharing. It is ok if you do not agree with me. There is a reason Baskin Robbins had 42 flavors, because we are all individuals and our likes vary. I will encourage everyone to stop and think how they would feel if suddenly they were under the same level of attack. Just be you, accept we are all different. Education is fine and disagreements will happen, but we are part of a big, fun great and often dysfunctional family. It’s time to stop bashing and start building one another up.

Our Scene

The crop licked her flesh like a lover’s tongue sliding along the surface of her skin. Mews of pleasure and gasps escaped her lips. Each flick of my wrist made the hungry ends find the flesh it longed to kiss and redden. The pulse of the music set the pace, deep thuds of hypnotic sounds filled the room.

Setting the crop down now it was time for the bare hand sound. That distinct sound of the skin on skin as it sent her into a trance, her body shuddering with each beat as I could feel the growing heat. No prints, just the glow as my hand went to and fro, cheek to cheek in a balanced rhythm. Her coos being our lover’s anthem.

A change of pace, a paddle took the hand’s place. Padded wood now swatting the skin, flesh yielding as the impacts began. The slow beats made each hit freeze like a moment in time, the warm glowing flesh made a delightful sight. Deep booming thuds as the padded paddle made her flesh jump and dance. Harder and harder each swing came, knowing with this paddle all was fair game. A full on hit with a crash matching thunder, all she did was moan. More she begged for in a subspace mutter.

A new song as my hand caressed her now warm bum, smiling as I knew it had just begun. Her moans and arching into each touch a signal she craved more. Evil paddles lay on display my wicked fingers curled around the dark blue, a color that soon her flesh would share. The raised nubs made white divots in the flesh for a moment after each impact. The slow tempo gave a long time to get her flesh screaming for more. Another song the increased tempo increased the paddles speed. Her arch said it was no longer a want but a need. Strikes deliberate as I focused on the place she would later sit. Sadistic glee as I knew she was relishing now what she would later curse.

A deep glowing red now shown on her flesh as she demanded more, begged for more, needed more. It was time to switch to the dreaded cane, I knew she soon would cave from the pain. The short black rod normally would cause her to dance and call for a stop. This time she cried out, but not in pain but in bliss as her body shook from the wicked kiss. In dismay I reached for the crimson rod, it stung like the fire of an old god. As the song ended my arm was spent, even more to my dismay her flesh still only carried a red with little else to hint.

One last thought as she arched for more, I took the leather lash and applied a few more scores. A single miss on my part brought it all down. The house of cards fell as the leather had wrapped around. Her wail of pain as the red glow shown like red ember on her pale hip. The sudden realization we had been going for an hour as sweat poured off my body I had not noticed before. It was over for sure as she looked in the mirror in shock as well. Only red then the truth started to tell. She will indeed have some deep bruises to be proud of from this scene we did. The colors will come in a day or two. So next scene might be a bit milder as we explore other things to do.