Tag: Humiliation

Erotic humiliation is used to reinforce a D/s dynamic but mostly because it’s fucking hot. However, this shouldn’t be confused with the negative connotations of the term,

Overthinking Pleasure and Pain

A former Domme once confessed she felt both guilty and aroused when she hurt me. It was early in our relationship, and her sadistic desires left her deeply conflicted. Before, during, and after sex, she’d shift between pangs of guilt and jolts of lust. Lucky for me, lust won out.

About six months later, I’d notice how she flexed her fingers while pacing a bit to hold some of her more destructive urges in check. Where she was once torn, those feelings of guilt were  ‘mostly’ gone. Hell, at that point, the mere idea of using me hard made her wet to the knees. (more…)


Fuck Yourself

It begins over a friendly disagreement, during which you smile, roll your eyes, and say, “Go fuck yourself.”

“But, Ma’am, that’s physically impossible.”

You smirk and ask how certain I am. On a roll, I launch into a  smug and tangential rant about the anatomical impossibility of an individual’s being capable of fucking oneself. Your response is to merely shrug, smile, and make a cryptic statement:

“Don’t be so sure…”

Later that evening, you tell me bedtime will be early, an hour early to be exact. The amused look on your face says it would be in my best interests not to argue. (more…)

Good Example – Part 2

“There you are!”

Looking up from the table, Greg found Lydia stood at the kitchen entrance, hands on hips, and smirking at his obvious distress.

“Why on earth are you hiding in here?”

Thankfully, it was a question she had no real interest in hearing the answer to. Lydia knew exactly what kind of conflicted feelings churned inside him, how he was both aroused and nervous. She knew just how anxious he was and loved it. Bossing him around, humiliating him, hurting him, all of it turned her on. Of course, no one outside the home would ever guess how sadistic she was behind closed doors. (more…)

Sing for Me

A fragment of a novella-in-process.  Enjoy!


In the blind isolation of the hood, her gentlest touch startled me awake. Her open hand gliding across my belly caused me to shudder; then I gasped as she teased me, her nail circling each nipple before sliding up to grasp my throat. Pinning me with clenched fingers around my throat, she thrust the other hand between my thighs to toy with the thick plug inside me. One stern tug, and I knew she wanted to remove it.

Compliant, I brought both knees to my chest as she drew the plug out. The plug removed left me feeling light-headed and empty, floating there in the darkness as she began unbuckling the wrist restraints.