Category Archives: Kink of the Week

Kink of the Week: Thoughts on Flogging

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We Doms/Dommes sometimes make house calls. Sometimes. Conditions apply. The submissive has to have been exceptionally bad. Or good.

But when we come visiting we can’t take all our paraphernalia with us. Generally the whipping bench and the leather sling attachable to the ceiling have to stay at home. Forlorn.

We have to choose just a few treasured items to take with us.

Some Dom/mes have a basic house call bag. There’s mine, above. A flogger, a tawse and a paddle.

As well as those implements it contains the usual stuff: padded cuffs, a collar and leash, nipple clamps, condoms, lubes and so on.

But if I was only going to bring one implement to a scene, it would be a flogger.

Floggers

In this post “implements” means “things used in impact play, usually on the buttocks and upper thighs.”

There are two kinds of implements, broadly speaking. Some are rigid or nearly so, like a hairbrush, wooden paddle, ruler, cane and so on. Others are pliable, like a belt or strap, a whip or a flogger.

The difference between a whip and a flogger can get a little hazy, but essentially, a whip has a single tail, or anything up to around five. From the recipients’ point of view, whips are generally thought to deliver a stingy sort of sensation.

Floggers generally start around nine tails (the cat’o’nine tails used in the Navy was essentially a flogger). And from the recipients’ point of view, they deliver a thudding sensation. As most submissives prefer thud to sting, that makes floggers more popular than whips.

Kinds of flogger

There are two basic kinds of flogger. Some have hard lashes, whether of leather or whipcord, rubber or silicon. Others have soft lashes, of soft leather, often suede, or rubber or silicon.

There’s one more distinction to make. Most floggers have lashes about half to a third of a metre long, and are fairly substantial implements. They can be used while the partners are in bed together, but also for a more formal flogging, in which the submissive is bound, standing up or lying across the bed, while their disciplinarian stands a short way aside from them to deliver the strokes.

There’s another class of flogger that is much smaller, almost always has soft lashes, of about 10 to 20 centimetres long. These can’t really be used for whole body flogging: they are designed for nipples, cunts, cocks, the sensitive skin between the buttocks, and other areas that couples, or threesomes or whatever, considers to be especially erogenous and sensitive.

1   Flogger with hard lashes

This implement comes closest to being a whip. That’s partly because the lashes are hard like a whip’s tail or tails.

So this implement is best in a relationship where the submissive partner likes more pain than most, and where there is a D/s or M/s relationship.

The advantage is that it’s easy to use and aim, and though it delivers the right kind of pain, very effectively, it’s unlikely to draw blood or do any harm unless the person wielding it behaves like an absolute maniac.

The disadvantage of the flogger with hard lashes is simply that it may hurt the submissive more than she or he likes. The Dom/me has to take care and make sure the submissive is feeling sexy and happy. And that may be easier with a soft lashed flogger.

The feedback I’ve had from submissive I’ve flogged using this kind of instrument is that it hurts, of course. A hard flogging will leave redness and sometimes small welts that will last a few days.

Other submissive reported that the impacts were too intense to be enjoyable as they happened, but that the glowing heat and the sense of having been genuinely punished was worth it. In short, they didn’t enjoy the flogging, but they loved having been flogged.

This implement definitely has its place, but it should be used carefully.

2.  Flogger with soft lashes

The soft lashed flogger is probably the flogger I would take with me on a one-implement mission. It tends to be popular with submissives. It delivers thud more than sting, and that seems to be the ideal mix in impact play. For most people.

Like the hard-lashed flogger, it’s easy to use and aim. It delivers warm, good-painful sensation, and the blush from a good flogging can last a couple of days. It has to be used extremely hard to get more marking than that.

That’s a useful fact, for submissives who go swimming, gymming and other activities where they have to change in public or leave their upper thighs or lower buttocks exposed.

Everybody has different tastes, even submissives! However, I’ve yet to play with a submissive who likes impact play who doesn’t openly or “secretly” love the soft-lashed flogger. It’s relatively gentle, with a kind of warm comfort mixed with the pain. It can safely be used for a long, long flogging while the submissive drifts off to that floaty space where submissives may go.

Though if the Dom/me wants it can be used harder and more punishingly. I like to give a “reminder” stroke every so often, in the middle of a flogging, so the submissive doesn’t feel that their flogging is predictable or within their control.

Disadvantages? At the moment I can’t think of one. I suppose you’d choose something else if you were going for an intense “real punishment” scenario.

So if I were going to visit a submissive, especially one who is new to “discipline”, and I could bring only one implement, the soft-lashed flogger is the one I’d bring.

3.   The cute little flogger

This small flogger isn’t one you can usefully use for whole body punishment, unless you have a lot of time on your hands. It’s for flogging erogenous zones, essentially.

Its big advantage is sexual intimacy: you use it at close quarters, to flog your partner’s cock or cunt, their perineum and the sensitive skin between the lower buttocks. And you use it on nipples.

Many small floggers come with a dildo handle, so that when the submit is aroused, the Dom/me can insert the dildo into sensitive spaces, and stimulate their submissive another way. I recommend one of those, so long as you can find one that you think looks stylish.

Generally I like natural fibres best, and my choice for the two larger floggers reviewed above is leather.

However, I’ve found that for this smaller implement silicon lashes are better. They can be heavier than leather, so that a small implement with short lashes can deliver a satisfactory thud. Silicon also allows for finer lashes than you can usefully get with leather strips. And finally, it’s easier to clean. Do these little floggers have a place in a Dom/me’s toolkit? Yes.

General notes

When shopping you should look carefully at the way it’s made. Personally I’ve never had or handled a flogger that wasn’t well made. Standards are high. Still, check before you buy. The handle should be solid, and reasonably weighty.

Some makers produce floggers with quite wide lashes. It’s a matter of taste, but I prefer lashes to be fairly narrow. Maybe a little over a centimetre for a soft lash, a little under a centimetre for a hard lash. But your taste may vary. A shop should allow you to have a practice swing or two, so you get the one that feels right to you.

Colour is up to you. I prefer the traditional black, though I once bought a pink one, because the intended recipient was a very girlie girl, and though she liked discipline she liked to feel it came with sparkles and a bow. Anyway, colour is up to you.

Happy flogging! Or being flogged!

Serving and servicing 1

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John swung the stick, making an audible impact and leaving a vertical fire-line down her left buttock. Lena shook for a second, though she felt it as heat rather than pain, and arched her back. He was right: she felt very beggy. The rod struck again, leaving a streak of fire where it landed, which slowly calmed to warmth and a kind of mental and bodily peace.    

“You know, you have no idea how beautiful you look. And hot.” This wasn’t quite true. She knew she’d made him hard, and that he liked her current posture, prostrated on her knees, with her head touching the carpet between his feet, beyond reason. She waited for the next stroke, but he grasped her hair and pulled her up so her open mouth was level with his cock. Lena rubbed her forehead against that hardness, through his pants, like a cat claiming a human’s hand. He put his hand against the back of her head and held her to him. She waited, and the rod landed again, then again. Lena hissed in breath, then turned to kiss his inner thigh. 

With that kiss, some things became urgent. John unbuckled and unzipped. His cock, finally free, pronged the air in the direction of Lena’s nose. She felt his grip tighten on her hair, and he guided her onto his cock. Her lips kissed a soft ring around the head, and he pressed forward. They said, “Hahh,” at more or less the same instant.

Her buttocks and hips burned from the stripes he’d given her. The rod he’d used to inflict them brushed her right shoulder when she took him deep, brushing her nipples against the wool of his pants. She knew that he was happy, and so was she: his cock was velvet stretched over steel, and though it tasted only of skin, it was his skin.

She was sure, though, that she could feel some of the sugared, shaky excitement of his pleasure, through a kind of body reading that comes close to mindreading. She could feel the pleasure that he felt, as well as the heat and joy that came with serving.

She knew she was providing a soft paradise for his cock. He was moving faster in her mouth, loosening his grip on her hair so she had room to move. Her knees hurt a little, and that was good too. She loved serving him, but there was another Lena in her mind, who watched her and considered her, and was excited by the abjectness of her submission. She wished he would bring that rod down again. He was distracted.

Kink of the week: An anal virginity

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She was on her hands and knees, looking at the sheet below her. “I mean, I’ve been wanting to try this. I’ve wanted to get my ass fucked for ages.”

I smiled and hoped she wouldn’t see. If I said something that impersonal to her, there’d be hell to pay. “Well then, it’s lucky I’m here.”

She didn’t realise I was joking. She said, quickly, “And I think it should be you. You… Well, at least you know what you’re doing. I think.”

“I’m honoured. No, seriously. And I want you. Right now especially your ass.” I took her hand by the wrist and put it on my cock, to demonstrate the point. “I absolutely want to fuck your ass.” 

“O”. She stroked gently. A hard cock is, after all, generally a sincere compliment. Then she tightened her grip so she could feel the blood, beating, throbbing for her. It’s a perfectly ordinary cock, mine, but there was no doubting its enthusiasm at that moment. She nodded. Obviously I didn’t have any doubts.

“I guess I want you to do whatever you like. So long as you do it hard.” But she had one more thought. “Still, remember… this is my first time.”

I looked at her with disbelief, then quickly got that expression off my face. Anyway, she meant she was trusting me, and that’s always an aphrodisiac. Anyway, it was time to stop thinking. I took one of my condoms, ripped the packet open with my teeth, and rolled the thing onto my cock.

There’s a speech I usually make at that moment, about how I’d hate it if anything hurt her, apart from good hurts that don’t count, so she should tell me at once if anything didn’t feel good. And she can set the pace, as slow and gentle or hard and fast, as she felt comfortable with. Then I cover saying no, safewords, and a few related topics. That’s what I usually say. But intuition can tell you odd things.

This time I just smacked her bottom again. She yelped, not displeased. I used the command voice to tell her to keep that ass up and get her knees further apart so I could fuck her. If she didn’t I’d smack her till she did as she was told. This was bullshit, but she nodded seriously.

She spread her knees as wide as they’d go, which lowered her ass a few inches closer to the bed. Buggering her in that position would be very comfortable. For me, at least. I said, “perfect, girl.” I reached under her belly to squeeze her cunt. She sucked her tummy in and spread just a little wider, to give me better access.

She was utterly, soppy wet to my touch. I want to roll her onto her back and kiss her cunt. Then fuck her. But that wasn’t the agenda, and it was time. So I growled, “Keep still,” so she had something to obey, and pressed my slippery left forefinger and index finger against the tight little bud of her asshole.

Her asshole, now holding two of my fingers up past the first knuckle, was extremely tight. It took a moment for her little muscled ring to yield and open. Still, she was very thoroughly lubed. Once my fingers were inside her, I could slip in to the second knuckle without too much difficulty. 

She held herself tense, ass still enticingly in the air, and her face was set. She was withholding judgement but expecting this to hurt. 

I said, “How you going? This ok?” 

“Uh.” She shook her head. “I hadn’t expected it to feel so intimate. It’s very… invasive.” 

She was staring at her pillow, focused on her sensations and not on me, except for two of my fingers.

I smiled. “Yeah. You don’t have many secrets left, from the man with his cock up your ass.” 

That was nonsense too, like a lot of things I’d said that night. 

But it seemed that she liked feeling invaded, and that would intensify that feeling. She only said, “Ohh.” And she left her mouth open after she’d said it. 

I squeezed more lube into my hand, coating my fingers and inserting more into her ass. Then I slowly fucked her with my fingers, letting her imagine how my cock would be, once I was demandingly inside her. The reality of the fingers, and the proximity of my cock, seemed to be good, sensual things, and her noises were soft and appreciative. But eventually I withdrew my fingers. She seemed to mind their absence. 

I coated the condom liberally, especially around the head of my cock. “You can tell me to stop and pull out any time. Or to slow down.” 

Her mouth quirked. My solicitousness didn’t fit the experience she was having. She was enjoying being brutally fucked. By a brutal fucker. She said, “I know that. And I’m fine. Don’t fuss.” 

Not so long ago she’d been warning me that this was her first time. It seemed she’d decided she could handle this without any more warnings. I smacked her upper thigh, hard, and she settled back, her arse up and presented. I took my place kneeling between her knees, my hands on her hips, and my cock nosing urgently against that lube-slicked little star. A dark star.

I lined my cock up against her asshole with my hand, and kept my cock steady while I pushed against her. After a couple of second’s of resistance, there was that sudden, dramatic opening, as Qing’s rectal muscles yielded, and I was inside her. Just the head of my cock at this stage, being held by a tight and reactive little ring.

Once my cock had taken its first entrance of her I slowly pushed a little further forward to make sure I couldn’t slip out of her ass by accident.

Then I moved a little deeper still and her ring tightened on the shaft of my cock.

She trembled under me, on her bed on her hands and knees, with most of my weight on her back and my cock half-buried in her ass. I was riding her a little higher than I had so far that night, and that seemed to come with its own symbolism attached.

The higher angle, not to mention the tightness of her ass, was a new sensation, too. In sex a small difference is a huge difference, if you’re paying attention. 

Her tight little tube held my cock firmly and softly. If it was heavenly, and it seemed so, then I was in heaven.

Many submissive women don’t like anal. And plenty of women enjoy being fucked up the ass but don’t care about bdsm at all. I know that, but I also know that that moment of give, when a woman opens and yields up her ass to my cock, always feels like submission. At least to me. That’s part of what makes anal possession of a woman feel so hot and so savage, even though the dom is (or should be) taking a lot of care not to really hurt her. She’s submitted, or at least given the dom that illusion.

She was puffing as if she’d run a mile. A sex mile, with me riding on her back. She still couldn’t manage to produce words, but she nodded. I smiled at her. She made the kissy face, so we were good.

Because I needed to, I pushed my cock further into her, revelling in every movement. She grunted (“oh, that’s happening”) but she seemed happy to be buggered. At each moment I could feel her start to resist I’d stop and withdraw a little, as slowly as I could, and thrust forward again.

Each movement took my cock a little further into her, and withdrew a little less. Until my belly pressed against the silky warmth of her ass, my cock deeply and completely inside her. I wanted to tell her I was pleased with her. I said, “Ah fuck, girl.”

That was probably about as sensible as whatever it was that she’d just said, but at least I hadn’t screamed mine. Then we both forget about words and breathing, and fucked in silence, until I stopped holding her hips and dropped my hands to support my weight on the bed.She fell forward onto her breasts and shoulders, arching her ass up at me. Tightly joined, she put her hands on the backs of mine and held tight. 

I started to speed up because her sweetly tight ass and her own arousal had taken me past the point where I could choose whether or not to come. Qing stopped still, suddenly, pushing herself hard but slowly against my cock, getting it as deep as possible.

I could feel contractions inside her. Then she rocked as fast as she could, making high-pitched squealing and gibbering noises.

She’d have fallen flat on the bed once she’d come but I wouldn’t let her. I held her ass tight up against me and fucked her until I’d come too. Then we lay together, with my arm around her and my cock still hard inside her. For a long time there was no reason to move or speak.

Kink of the Week: Hand Spanking

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My love Gretel has been in the wrong part of the world for too long. But soon she’ll be back where she belongs. I’m starting to anticipate her arrival. I’m starting to make plans. One of the first things that will happen to her is that I’m going to put her pver my knee, and give her a long and memorable spanking. Skin to bare skin. 

Why is that such a priority, in my imagination, and – I’m certain – in actuality?  What is this? Why do I like this so much?

There are visual pleasures to be had from spanking Gretel. The sight of her flesh rippling and firming under my hand as each smack lands. Her face frowning in concentration, a slight pursing of her mouth with each blow. I’ve watched these things with absorption, and been amazed by their, and her, beauty.

When I make the smacks harder I can watch the changes in her skin, the instant of pallor directly under my hand at the instant of contact, and study it as it blushes to pink as the blood rushes to the assaulted skin.

At first I can see individual prints, my palm, fingers and thumb marked on her like the painted hand on Paleolithic cave walls. But those marks soon merge into one large red blotch covering her buttocks and upper thighs.

As I continue, slowly building up the force of the smacks, she gives me movements to watch, the rocking of her hips and buttocks as she presses down against me and then offers herself up in answering rhythm to my hand. She tucks her hair behind her ears, but when she’s in spanked-girl motion on my knee it falls forward over her face.

There are tactile pleasures, the curved planes of her buttocks and thighs under my hand, soft when I touch her gently, firmly rebounding when I touch more fiercely. It feels so sensual. I love the impact of my palm against her muscles, and the reactions of her body in that second of impact.

Those sensations are all the more intense for only lasting for an instant. Gretel’s body pressed against mine, her hips slowly pumping, moving under my hand: I’m achingly aware of every silken micro-movement of her belly or her thighs.

There are sounds, too: the clap of skin against skin and her occasional answering grunts. And there are our own heady smells.

There’s another thing, though. There’s a strange, almost telepathic intimacy between us when I heat and mark her. I know that the sting in my hand is only a distant echo of the much fiercer pain in her bottom and thighs. I wouldn’t like that sensation myself, but I seem to have some sense of the way in which Gretel experiences it as pleasure. That means I can feel that pleasure along with her. I also know, just as surely as I know that I felt her pleasure, that she can feel some of my my pleasure in watching her, holding her, and spanking her incredible, beautiful ass and thighs.

So, girl. Come here. Assume the position.

 

Voice of the thunder

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Bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronn-tuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk

That’s what the thunder said. You know that.

It had been the hottest, most oppressive day you can imagine. The sky absolutely still, the temperature far too high and the humidity close to 100 per cent. You felt you could reach for a handful of air and squeeze it like a sponge. I was at my desk in just my underpants, trying to write, with sweat running down my body. 

Then, finally the clouds arrived, speeding like the Seventh Cavalry, like a huge black blanket being towed by a speeding car. The rain came. It was a tropical downpour, with water drops as big as golf balls.

I heard a whoop from the other office; Therese, my houseguest. A few seconds she ran into my office, wearing a summer shirt, a bra and knickers. She grabbed my shoulder, leaned down and kissed me. “Let’s get the fuck out into this!”

“I’m Thor!” Lady Therese, goddeth of the thunder

So we ran out into my front yard, and her shirt was instantly soaked, clinging transparent to her skin. We squealed and yowled, running circles round each other and dancing at each other, furiously, stamping on the grass so the rain jumped, all energy and no grace. It was pagan enough.

Then the lightning struck; the thunder spoke only two seconds later.

The lightning bolt was only a couple of kilometres away. In lightning terms that’s right on top of you. The next bolt hit a tree on the property next door. The thunder was so fast, and close and loud that we both ducked, involuntarily.

Therese grabbed my arms and rolled down onto her back, pulling me down with her. On top of her. I pulled her shirt away from her body, and pushed her bra up, round her neck. She lifted her hips, so I shoved her knickers down to her knees, and put my foot into the gusset, pushing them the rest of the way down and off.

I said, “Um, I didn’t pack any condoms. Must have left them in my other underpants. I’ll- ”

She grabbed my shoulder again. “I’m still bleeding. You don’t mind a bit of blood, do you?”

“Fuck no.” That was the answer she expected. Years ago, when I started university, she’d been the first girl to cover my cock in her menstrual blood, so she knew I had no objection. (Though when I’d seen myself in the bathroom mirror post-fuck, that first time, with my cock covered in girl-gore, looking like it’d been in a car crash, I’d found that a bit of a shock. But I got used to it, and I’d never told her that.)

That skin feeling

“So you’re not going to get me pregnant. Fuck me. You can come in me.”

There were urgencies involved, so I said nothing and slipped my cock into warm, viscous cunt. We held each other and fucked, rolling each other over and over in the rain, with the lightning crashing around us, and the air we were in flashing into brilliance, and the thunder roaring.

Her cunt and my cock, sharing body territory, were wet and slippery, and because we’d started hard and fast, and continued faster, it was only a few minutes before I shouted something wordless, and made that space even wetter and more slippery. 

She shouted for me not to stop, so I stayed, still pumping furiously, hoping she’d come while I still hard. And she screamed, water pummelling her opened mouth, and she drew her knees up, since she was on her back at that stage. She wrapped her legs round me. We lay in the grass, gasping, while the rain poured onto us, not so much in drops but as if someone was tipping out baths and 40 gallon drums of warm water onto us. 

Thunderstorm fetish? Maybe.

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Kink of the Week: My first threesome

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It started with a sort-of-sexual sevensome. I was twenty-one, and I had a huge bed at the time, and I was known to be interested in girls and being nice to them, and to be interested in sex, and in political issues affecting women. Though I wasn’t available, because I was being faithful to my girlfriend.

My girlfriend, who I’ll call Amanda here, had by now become the Women’s Rights Executive Officer at the local university, so feminist women often came round to our place to plan things, or stuff envelopes for letter-writing campaigns and so on. So it happened that one night we all crashed into bed together, and I had six women sleeping with me. 

In the morning there was a lot of flirtatious slithering and cuddling and rolling over each others’ bodies. Even though some of them were, in public, very anti-male, most of them were happy for there to be an erect penis, with young man attached, in that bed. I got a lot of rubbing, and my cock found its way between the soft parts of two or three girls at once, or between the thighs of one girl, and so on. But there were too many people, and no-one was game to actually have a boy-on-girl or even a girl-on-girl fuck in front of the others.

As well as my girlfriend Amanda there was another girl in that bed who I very specifically wanted. Let’s call her Miranda. Miranda was beautiful, in a young-Lauren-Bacall kind of way, while my girl thought, of herself, that she was “merely” pretty (though I thought she was beautiful even if Miranda, inescapably, was more so), so we were both a bit in awe of Miranda. 

It turned out that Miranda was in awe of us. I was a political figure who turned up on radio and tv locally, saying good and noble things. Amanda was not just a feminist but actually got paid for it. And there was another thing: I’d been Miranda’s probation officer for a while, after she’d got caught spray-painting a wall. There’d been a certain amount of sexual tension between us, but I’d managed not to take up any of her invitations, and that had also gained me some respect.

(There’s a long story about my probation officer days elsewhere on this blog. It tells about the time I finally succumbed and spanked and then fucked one of my clients. For, um, not entirely discreditable reasons. You can find all the episodes of that story by clicking on this: The Probation Officer’s Tale. )

Anyway, Miranda’s probation was finished, so she wasn’t my client. I stared at her until she looked at me. She nodded, and I kissed her. Then Amanda rolled towards us and kissed Miranda too. 

The other women were starting to get up. Eventually there were just four people: Amanda, Miranda, me, and one other woman. That woman said, “I can smell breakfast. You coming?” Then she noted that under the sheet Miranda had her hand on my cock and was squeezing hard at the base, because I was leaking pre-come and she’d read some article about how that was supposed to delay male orgasm. “Oh.” She left. 

And then there were three. I’d decided it wasn’t unfaithful if Amanda was in it too. I was kissing Miranda, who’d switched from trying to delay my orgasm to stroking my cock gently up and down. It was excruciating, and wonderful. Amanda stroked Miranda’s cunt. Then I was on top of both of them, kissing Amanda while sliding as naturally and easily as anything in the world into Miranda’s sweet, wet cunt. 

We fucked for a long time, while Amanda lay beside us, and I kissed and licked Amanda’s cunt while I moved inside Miranda, mostly very slowly and gently. Sometimes we’d speed up and I’d have to stop, suddenly, for several seconds until I calmed down again. Miranda was on her back, so she couldn’t pleasure Amanda except with one hand, fingers working inside Amanda. Her fingers occasionally got kissed by me, because that’s where my face was. 

I wanted Amanda to climb up and put her cunt on Miranda’s mouth, but we were all too young, too shy and too silly to make that happen. But eventually Miranda came, with one long, drawn-out wail. There were tears in her eyes. She was immensely moved and happy. I kissed her fervently, because I was so pleased with her and so proud of myself for managing this without coming in her. This was ill-advised, unprotected sex, I’m afraid.

Then Amanda turned onto her front and raised her arse. I’d kept my interest in bdsm from her, mostly, but she knew my enthusiasm for her ass. Miranda watched, and then slid herself down, thighs open, to Amanda’s face. Amanda did Miranda very gently, lovingly. Amanda’s sexual career, as far as I knew, was entirely heterosexual, but it didn’t occur to me to wonder where she’d developed not just know-how but serious skills.

I wasn’t doing any thinking. I fucked my girl, rocking, pressed against her delicious ass, and divided the rest of my attention between kissing Amanda’s neck, and Miranda’s inner thigh. Eventually Miranda came again, just as noisily, and somehow that started Amanda, pushing back at me to get more of my cock, and then at last I let myself come, too, with great bear-like male grunts.

We heard laughter, from the kitchen. We looked at each other, wondering whether to be mortified. Then Miranda shrugged. So we lay together, resting, until Miranda’s hand on my cock, just affectionate holding at first, got more purposeful and I started to respond. Then she sucked me till I was entirely hard. For a while it was just Miranda and I, in a sort of vague, not quite joined up 69 position, waiting for Amanda to wake up.

Eventually Amanda did, and grabbed Miranda’s face for her very own, looking deep into her eyes and giving soulful, loving kisses. 

Amanda rolled onto her back, and so I helped Miranda into position, face in Amanda’s cunt, ass up, legs spread for me. I slid back into Miranda, and found myself riding her, pulling her hair, which she’d said – back in probation officer days – that she liked, and this time we fucked hard and desperate, the three of us, pushing ruthlessly on, hard and fast as we could, for our release and each other’s. 

Afterwards we lay in each other’s arms, gasping, the sheets wet with sweat. And so on: repeat. When we finally did get up, the other women had gone. It was evening.

Of course, in the longer run that morning didn’t turn out so well for me, which is another story. Even so, I still treasure that morning, and the next time the three of us were together, as among the most goldenly magical moments of my life. What I learned from the pleasure and the beauty of it, and later from pain, changed me and re-set my life.  

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Safewords: is “stop, I’m not enjoying this” a safeword?

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In my time as a dom, I’ve accidentally caused emotional distress or excessive pain because:

  • I spanked a girl with my hand instead of a hairbrush, and she thought that meant I was genuinely angry with her and not just playing. That made her emotionally desolate, and triggered some bad stuff that had happened between her and her mother, which she’d never told me about before; 
  • I used a riding crop on another girl’s inner thighs, because the week before she’d loved it when I used my belt there. But this time she was having her period and for her that meant her pain threshold was much lower. The intensity was the same, but this time she experienced it as excessive and a complete sexual turn-off;
  • I had my cock in a girl’s throat, and she started to panic because she couldn’t breathe.

None of those submissive women used a safe word to communicate their distress. The first girl had floated into a bad psychological space, and couldn’t speak. The second couldn’t remember her safe word, and anyway the pain meant she stepped completely out of her submissive headspace. She didn’t care about safe words: she just wanted this to stop. The third girl couldn’t speak, but fortunately she was still keeping her eyes on mine, as I’d ordered, and so I saw submission change to panic.

I stopped, and didn’t start again till I’d found out the problem and dealt with it, the submissive was ok, and was ready to go on. 

Each of those events was unpredictable. The girl who spun into a bad mental state because I’d hand spanked her hadn’t known that was going to be her reaction. There was no way I could reasonably have expected it either. It’s the mildest impact play that there is.

Only up to a point, Lord Copper

Each situation turned out ok and happy because I didn’t wait for a safeword. If I had insisted on the safeword, the first girl would have had a psychologically damaging experience, and lost her trust in me. The second girl would never have continued, or played with me again. The third girl could have have been asphyxiated. 

One more safeword story. I valued the first girl’s trust, because it gave her a safe place to do bdsm. Never mind altruism, she was hot. One reason why she trusted me was that she’d last been with a dom who got a lot of his rules and practices from the internet rather than reality. He tended to dole out physical punishments that were tenuously justified and extremely severe, because he liked to give very severe pain. He’d tied her to a cross, and was whipping her when she broke up with him.

She told him to stop. He kept on whipping her. She told him they were through and she wasn’t taking any more. He kept on whipping her. She was bleeding. She started screaming, by now half angry and half terrified, for him to fucking well stop. But you haven’t safeworded me, he said. He’d sounded smug: that meant he was winning. All you have to do is safe word me. He kept on whipping her.

Um, Rumpelstiltskin? Armidillo? Let me loose NOW, or I’m going to the cops? Mercy? Um, red?…

She couldn’t remember what her safeword was. He’d given it to her, which made it harder. It was Armadillo or Rumpelstilskin or something. She’d blanked on it. She was in an angry, fearful state and she couldn’t calmly ransack through her mind to find it.

Eventually he untied her and said her punishment was over, and to get on her knees and suck his cock.

She left without a word and never went back. I made her tell the story, with the guy’s name, to other submissives. Strictly speaking and technically, he could argue that he’d followed the rules. But he was a dangerous idiot, and a criminal from the instant she’d said they were through. 

So in general I treat, “No”, “Stop” and “This isn’t working for me”, also certain kinds of non-responsiveness, as safewords even though they’re not the agreed safeword. Yes, there are rules in bdsm, but they should never get in the way of a submissive’s health and safety. 

Sometimes, though, I will ignore “No, please stop” because it isn’t the safeword. But that’s only where the submissive and I are in a relationship that includes consensual non-consent, and where she (this applies to male and female submissives, but I’m saying “she” because my experience involves women submissives) has explicitly told me that sometimes she wants to be able to beg and shout and protest, and have me ignore that and continue.

Stop! Ha ha, just kidding!

I enjoy that, but that’s for when you know someone well, and you know you can read between the lines, and tell pleasure from real distress in her body language or her voice, or her silence. So that you know she’s safe and in a good mental state, even as you gleefully ignore her pleas for you to stop.   

Even then, truth be told, if I believed that I detected real harm or distress I’d stop even without the safeword.

You can think you’ve worked out everything in advance, and that the rules you’ve agreed to will cover everything. But humans are unpredictable creatures, and emotionally driven and changeable, whether they acknowledge that or not.

Both parties have to be flexible enough to take that into account, and to respond to the person’s needs (and their own needs) in the moment, and not just stick to a set of rules. 

Except one rule: the dom’s duty of care, to do no harm to a submissive, comes before everything else, including “I’ll stop if you safeword me but not otherwise”. Even when they’re not, “no” and “stop!” are still safewords, if the submissive really means it. Whatever the agreed protocol might be.

Klick on the kiss for more Kink of the Week posts!