Silent night: some Christmas thoughts on gags

silent nightThinking back, I’m surprised at how very little time submissives of mine have spent gagged. I have a ball gag, and one that intrudes a rather realistic penis-shaped column into the mouth of the person wearing it.

But in the heat of the moment I’m more likely to want to kiss her, to hear her moan and cry out, to thank me for her pain and her orgasms, and to have her kiss my boots or, of course, suck my cock. And if she’s not doing any of those things, then I might just want to have a conversation. Gags don’t help much for any of that. 

But I need to use my imagination more. Not being able to speak is frustrating, and she can enjoy the frustration. I can enjoy that too.

Then there are ring gags. I’ve never used one, because I’ve always thought that the rim – especially of the metal type – looks uncomfortable. I mean uncomfortable for the dom, of course. They look likely to interfere with the serious business, for the submissive, of pleasuring the master’s cock.

ring gagOn the other hand, there’s the emotional and sexual power of the idea that “you’re not sucking my cock; I’m fucking your throat”.

That means the ring gag would have to be large enough to allow penile entry all the way up to the base of the cock.

Another advantage of ring gags is drool. A submissive wearing one can’t control her saliva. At least in my experience, submissives tend to be extremely neat and tidy. For example, there’s that odd attraction that many submissives have to to stationery and little pads and pens in different colours, and so on. Which are kept in a meticulously orderly way.

Being unable to avoid dribbling and drooling would be exquisitely humiliating for most submissives I know.

So I shall start shopping for a ring gag.

Vampire girl update

Diane was a woman I met in a bar, through her brother. It turned out, once  we started to have sex, that she was a bit obsessed by vampirey stuff, and liked the colour of blood. She was happy to bite me, or for me to bite her. I didn’t want either option.

But it occurred to me that I’d never birched anyone before, and I’d always wanted to. And the Victorian accounts of birching that I’d read seemed to suggest that I’d be able to draw blood with a birch, on Diane’s arse, and so Id have increased my experience, and she’d be a happy girl. 

I took her to the nearby park for her to collect the switches for a birch. You’ll have to go back to read the full story, but in the end Diane was heading home from a public park with her bottom already stinging, and carrying the birch I was going to use on her when she got home.

And, for very good reasons, she was wearing only a ripped shirt, a belt and sandals.

Vampire girl #24

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Diane looked at the shirt, and at me. She said, “I can’t wear that. There’s nothing to wear.”.

I said, “put it on.”

So Diane did. I let her do up the bottom button. It still gave her very little cover. I smacked her bottom, which was bare, for all relevant purposes. She made no protest, or reaction. We were past that. I gave her her bundle of switches. 

“You carry those. When we get home I’m going to whip you with them.” 

Diane took the switches, and said nothing. I said, “Do you understand?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

I smacked her bottom again. “What do you understand?” 

“I carry these. And when we get home, you’re going to whip me with them. Um, sir.” 

“Good. That’s better. Let’s go.” 

And we walked out of the little copse, where so much had happened and changed, and onto the path, under the lights.


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Vampire girl #23

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Diane picked up her discarded shirt, shook it free of pine needles and leaves, and made to put it on.

I said, “No.”


“Di-ane.” She heard the exasperation in my voice, and quickly took the shirt off her shoulders. “I said to bring it here.”

Diane folded the shirt. She walked towards me, holding it before her in both hands.

 She stood in front of me, regarding me gravely. She was trying to be good, or look as if she was. I still had some righteous anger. But I didn’t want to whip her again, or lecture her.

I took the shirt. It was a man’s shirt, old, threadbare, a legacy of a former lover or a gift from a cheap current one. I could give her the shirt I was wearing, later that night. My shirt was better.

Diane suddenly understood how she was going to walk home with me. She said, “SIR!” She was shocked, but I was still Sir. I tore the shirt up the back, from the bottom hem all the way to the yoke.


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Vampire girl #22

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Afterwards Diane rested against me, both feet on the ground and her bottom pressed hard against my crotch. The woollen material of my suit both hurt and comforted her. She was still panting, trying to get her breath back. “Oh, sir,” she murmured, and then again, “oh, sir.” Calling a lover “sir,” was a novelty. She liked it, and there was a little catch, a kind of chuckle in her breath, after she said it. It wasn’t a laugh of humour, just pleasure. 

I had my arms round her, under her breasts, my hands clasped at her stomach, half supporting her. I kissed her ear and whispered, “Come on, girl. We’re going home.” 

Diane looked down. She saw what I saw, what anyone would see if they walked through the park and turned off into this grove. A naked girl, the tops of her thighs darkly welted and streaked where I had switched her. “Like this?” She sounded amused.

“You don’t want to walk back naked? It’d serve you right if I made you. So everyone can see you had to be whipped.” It occurred to me to add, “then your neighbours would know what a slut you are:” That seemed a hot thing to say, but some girls like the word ‘slut’ and some don’t. I wasn’t sure, with Diane, so I left it.

“I didn’t have to be whipped.” 

“Yes, you did. I told you to bring me your shirt, and you threw it away. Was that obedient?”

“No, sir.”

“So did you deserve to be whipped?”

There was a short pause while she considered this. “Ahm, that sounds credible, though it shouldn’t. But I suppose so. Yes, sir. I did.” She was surprised to hear herself say that.

I wasn’t. “That’s right, you did. And if I have to whip you again, Diane, it’ll be harder.” Her stomach fluttered a little under my hands, when that was said. Though that must have been something she knew. “Now. This time, go and get that shirt, and bring it to me.” I left go of her stomach, and smacked her bottom, hard. 

Diane started forward.

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Vampire girl #21

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Diane leaned back against me, still stroking her cunt, hard and fast, with finality. She lifted her thigh to be whipped, as I’d commanded, but though I’d told her she couldn’t come yet, that had been overreach on my part. There was nothing that she or I could do, at least nothing that would be any fun, to stop that orgasm in its tracks. Or even delay it much.

So I whipped the switch down on her inner thigh, hard enough to raise a welt, but the cry she made was pure, wild pleasure. So was the second cry when I switched her again, about fifteen seconds later. There was no time for a longer gap between strokes. Once she’d given her pain song again, with that second stroke, Diane couldn’t stay quiet any longer. She sang, “nnnnnerrrrr eeeerrrrrnnnn”, in my ear, the sound wavering as if she were riding a horse in full gallop. 

A little later Diane’s whole body stiffened and she fell silent because she’d stopped breathing, I whipped her inner thigh again, as close to her cunt as I could get without the switch hitting the back of her hand. Diane cried out just once with the pain, her body braced hard against mine, and then her orgasm took her. Though she looked as though she was screaming, she came in silence, mouth working, staring up at the moon-bright sky.  

Afterwards I whispered, “good girl, yes, good girl, darling”, while she gasped and fought for control. When she seemed to have almost caught her breath, I squeezed her breasts again, pinching her nipples as hard and painfully as I could, and a second wave of orgasm took her. 


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Vampire girl #20

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But the next lash landed near that first stroke, on the softer flesh of her thigh. I would whip Diane’s cunt one day, but not now, not here. To compensate for what she might think of as mercy, I made this stroke harder, and her whole body shuddered when the switch bit home. I had to put my arm round her belly, holding on to her while she shook and fought to steady herself, still grinding her ass against me while the pain sunk in. She sang that low, “ooooooooo” again, and looked at me, her eyes shining with tears under the moon.

I smiled at her. “You’re beautiful.” It was true. Submission, when it comes, is so profoundly right and satisfying. It’s beautiful and moving.  She’d found her way to the sex of this, and to part of herself that answered part of me. Her thigh must have been burning but her hand still worked, stroking herself. I kissed one tear away from her cheek, tasting the salt of my girl’s pain, but I let the others run their glistening moonlit trails.

Diane’s hips still shook, her movements forced by the grip of the pain, but eventually she was able to relax. She leaned back, her left leg still bent and raised, letting me take her weight.

She took a breath, and then another before she could speak. “Oh, you’re cruel. You’re a cruel man. How can you be so cruel?”

I said, “You can put your foot down now.” She obeyed carefully, standing with her legs apart, not letting her thighs touch. I put my hand back on her hand, which still stroked busily in her cunt. Her inner thighs were wet. I patted my sopping girl, affectionately, then took her left breast and squeezed the nipple. She made a version of her pain song, but it was not pain. She liked having her nipples hurt.

So I pulled that nipple, then turned it a little, and squeezed it again, even harder. Diane had closed her eyes, and her breathing was fast and shallow. Her hand still worked at her cunt, and she was close to coming. I said, “cruel to be kind. Cruel because you need a cruel man. Don’t you?”

“Yes. Oh fuck yes.”

“That’s right. Now, don’t come until I’ve finished whipping you, Diane. That’s an order. Now get your right knee up. Quickly.” 


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Vampire girl #19

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Diane waited, with her ass pressed against me and her left leg raised, presenting her left thigh. She knew I was about to whip her, which is an interesting thing for a girl to know, just before it actually begins. She’d said she was ready, in a voice of helium, and while I might doubt that she really was ready, making her wait wasn’t going to make it any easier or her any readier.

I’d decided that she didn’t want me to go easy on her. Neither of us knew if she would enjoy this, be able to turn the pain into sex and pleasure, or even whether she’d find it too much to bear, and cry off. But she’d said she was ready to be whipped. I wasn’t going to insult her by faking it.

So I swung the switch medium hard, making it whistle in the air. It whipped vertically across the fleshiest part of her inner thigh, about a dozen centimetres from her cunt, with a sound like a green stick being snapped. The woody centre of the switch landing, mixed with the several impacts of the surrounding leafy twigs.

Diane’s right hand clenched, and she bucked her ass to shake off the pain. Her thigh shook like sour cream, partly from the impact, partly from her attempt to ride out the pain. The path of the switch declared itself in dark pink, a grey shadow in moonlight, that bloomed and formed into a welt. Her skin was very soft; she marked easily. She breathed out, a long, contralto note: “ooooooo.”

I released her cunt and captured her clenched right hand, guiding it back between her legs. I put my hand over the back of hers, and pressed hard. I felt her fingers start to move under my hand, slipping into wetness, pleasuring herself. Her movements when she masturbated were faster and rougher than I’d been.

I said, “You’re a good girl, Diane. And that was very brave. Now hold still.”

I lashed her again, a little closer to the busy fingers in her cunt. She stiffened, not moving for several seconds, before her breath came again in that low contralto moan. That was her pain song. I’d heard it twice and already I loved it.

Teasing, I touched the switch just beside her fingers, as if the next lash would go even closer to her lips. Diane’s eyes widened. “Please, no, not…”

“Shhh. Not up to you. Don’t speak.” 


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Vampire girl #17

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“So you’d like me to say, ‘I’ve been a bad girl. Please punish me, master.’ Would that turn you on?” 

Actually, it jolted my cock just hearing her quote that, even though she wasn’t exactly saying it. Not saying it on her own behalf. But I wasn’t going to admit that she had any sort of power.

“No, Diane, we’re past that. You don’t have to say anything. Not that anything you say would make any difference. I’m about to hurt you. Because you disobeyed me so you deserve it. Um, have you ever had any sort of punishment before? I mean, from a lover?”

“God no. I’ve never let – Well, never mind. No.” 

“Then you’re about to lose a virginity, of sorts. It’s an honour.” She laughed. “No, seriously, Diane. It really is an honour. For me.. And I’ll kiss it good bye. That virginity, I mean. And kiss you better. But turn around now.”

“Turn? My back? To you?” Each element, she managed to convey, was questionable, and unwise. 

I picked up one of the switches at my feet. It looked thin, leafy, but capable of delivering real pain. “Now.”

Diane turned her back, then took a step backwards, so her ass was just a few centimetres from my crotch.

I put put my hands on her hips and drew her back, making that contact. My cock pushed against her bottom, and I couldn’t help making a slight pumping, pleasuring motion. She was firmly, lusciously curved. I wanted her. She made a sound that I took as meaning she’d felt my cock and she approved. I sighed. 


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Vampire girl #16

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Diane had set me a challenge. But there’s a limit to how alarming a naked girl can look in a park, even with blood-red lippy and lots of mascara. So I smiled. “So, is there a bad girl in this park?” 

“What would you do about it, if there was?” 

“You’ll have to come here to find out.”

So this was ritual. Even she knew this game. “Um … I’m not sure I should.” 

“Diane.” Now I used the command voice. “Come here. Now.” 

And she took two steps forward before she thought and stopped. She frowned, hesitated. 

“Come here. Girl. Now.” And then she was in front of me, hands at her sides, waiting. I put my hand on her cheek, and pushed my thumb into her mouth. She sucked, warmly. She was breathing hard. And holding her tummy in. She hoped she looked sexy. Of course she did. 

“Little vampire girl, you like doing as you’re told. So you should do as you’re told. Shouldn’t you?”

Diane was still sucking, licking up and down the soft skin between my thumb and the palm of my hand. “Mmmm?” 

“So you have to learn not to disobey me. It wastes my time. And yours.”

Diane bit very gently on my thumb, and then licked it better. “Mmmmm.”

“That’s why I’m going to punish you.”


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