Tag: Sadism and Masochism

Sadists derive pleasure from inflicting pain while masochists enjoy receiving it. However, it can also part of the power dynamics of D/s or a means of achieving emotional catharsis.

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…)

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Please and Thank You

Please take control until I’m free
to simply be.

Please lead, assured I’ll follow
your direction as imperatives to obey.

Please impale me with need; sink
the hooks deep, then deeper until
thrashing me over the barb. Please stay
to savor each whimper and whine
before relenting to brush your lips
across the same teared streak,
which slaked your thirst.  (more…)

Speaking Truth to a Submissive Heart

The little moments possess the most gravity. Neither the snick of metal upon first locking a collar nor the cathartic sobbing when a boy finally breaks mean as much as the sum of all the intimacy in between. Each moment a boy submits and serves his Domme provides another sliver of insight until she knows him balls to bone – just as he will come to know her through and through. Only then will he understand without words. Only then will her truths pierce any barrier he might still possess.

Look at how he sits at her feet. Gazing up into her eyes when the first smack falls. she slaps him again. And again. No words spoken, just the sound of impact as her hand rises and falls, repeatedly – relentlessly – one slap after the next. None of them delivered with more force than what’s required to turn his head. But they keep falling. They add up. Each time his streaming eyes return to find hers, the next smack falls. His cheek red from the impact, face flush with humiliation. Yet time after time, he recovers to obediently raise his chin, knowing full well what to expect when their eyes meet next. (more…)

Morning Stretch

The sweetest smile hides such cruel intentions.

After covering its cushions with a towel, she plops onto the couch to crook a finger, her smile shining with greed – candy sweet.

Eyes down, I shuffle forward to straddle her.

Using the couch’s back for balance, I kneel astride her, knees pressed to the outside of her thighs. Always impatient when I’m above her, she grasps my hips to guide my plugged ass down until it rests on the cushion between her knees. (more…)