Physical.

I scratched him. I violated one of the first limits he ever gave me, and I only have a vague recollection of it. I also bit him so hard that he’s still bruised three days later. And I beat his cock too viciously.

I feel like an asshole. Granted, I only have the vaguest, orgasm-hazed memory of digging my fingers into his back while he pounded me into sweet oblivion with a dildo. But I know better than to break his skin. And I knew how much the other stuff would hurt and that he wouldn’t like it.  But the scratching - that makes me a bad dom.  That makes me less trustworthy.  And that breaks my heart, because violating his trust and hurting him that way is the last thing I ever wanted to do.  And everything else is pointless if he doesn’t feel completely safe giving himself to me. 

…But I have a confession to make:  in my heart of hearts, I like that I scratched him. I don’t like that I did something I had promised I wouldn’t. That part, I hate. But there’s a possessive, primal something in me that loves the idea of clawing, ripping, making a boy bleed. It’s a form of penetration, I think. And the evil, rape-fantasy-having part of me liked the nonconsensuality, the power, his helplessness, the violation inherent in doing something he specifically said not to…

And the biting. And seeing the toothmarks on him. That - that was hot. That was exciting. Satisfying and frustrating at the same time, sensual and sexual and animalistic and physical. The whole encounter was more physical for me than anything I’ve done in a very long time. Physical in the sense of really being engaged, physically present, touching him with more than just my hands, getting closer than I’ve allowed myself to before. And it felt good. It felt so good, and fulfilling. Not to mention the fucking. Which is what I was talking about in the other post, being just what I wanted. But I’ll have to leave the details for later, if at all, as it’s far past time to turn off the computer for the night..

 

cruel to be kind

I was supposed to be nice. I was planning on being nice. But I just can’t seem to help myself.

When I got to his house, I laid all the toys out and told him he had to choose three toys we would definitely play with, and three toys we wouldn’t play with. The rest were up to me. There were mostly sensual toys, as I had decided that we’d been doing a lot of pain play and should switch things up a bit. Like I said, I really did mean to be nice.

I used the handcuffs and some rope and tied him to the bed. And then I tormented him. It started out very soft and sweet, with the bunny flogger and another furry toy, even an orgasm. But somehow I ended up with the Big Scary Knife in my hand and just had to caress his face with it so I could revel in his trembling. And then the ice on his nipples after the clamps came off, watching him writhe.. And I distinctly remember threatening to cut his throat at one point.

I love the times when I hurt him and can watch him become aroused by it. And I love that I’m the only one that’s ever happened with.

 

playing. dress up.

[This was written as a comment on one of devastatingyet's posts, but I want to put it here too, because it's something I have strong feelings about but haven't actually posted yet.]

I feel totally awkward when I try to dress up for bdsm, especially playing at home. I’ve been trying to explain to my play partner how all the “sexy dominatrix” paraphernalia makes me feel but he doesn’t seem to get it. I’ll have to show him this blog post.

The most sterotypically femininely sexy thing I’ve felt comfortable sceneing in was a red cotton skirt with a black tank top. And bare feet. (It is so much more physically and mentally comfortable to scene in bare feet.)

I am all about the cargo shorts and tank tops in the summer.

I think it comes down to power. I want to feel powerful when I scene, in fact that’s why I do this stuff. Wearing uncomfortable, expensive, restrictive clothes that are so blatantly made to conform to beauty standards that piss me off… yeah, no feeling of power in that. Wearing clothes I’m comfortable in, that I can move in, that reflect *my* ideas of attractiveness, clothes that I can forget about while I’m doing all the stuff that *does* make me feel powerful… that feels good.

 

Friday night

I got over the desire to maim eventually, and the boy did come over. With ice cream and iced tea, no less. And a dog bowl.

It was a delightful Friday night, after all.

I really am getting much better at this stuff. It only felt awkward for about a minute in the beginning, when I was trying to figure out how to begin, and a minute in the middle when I was trying to make the transition from service to play.

To start off, I had him strip and I took his clothes in exchange for a collar, which I locked onto his neck. It’s just a play collar, no special symbolism or anything, but it was the first time I’ve ever used a lock with it. Seeing that little padlock on the back of his neck and knowing the key was in my pocket, it gave me a little thrill that I hadn’t really expected. It almost felt like he was mine in a very real way, though I’m not exactly sure how I feel about that.

We played that he was my slave last night. My property, my personal servant. I had him sweep the floors and fetch things for me, bring me a drink and wash the dishes, among other things.

Reading that back, it sounds very silly, but it was great. I have long had fantasies of having a houseboy to clean for me, mostly because I hate doing housework. But sitting on the couch, sipping my drink and reading a novel while a devoted boy did menial chores in the background.. it was delicious, and not just for the free cleaning. I almost want to say that it made me feel powerful, but that’s not the right word and a little strong. Perhaps it would be better to say that it emphasized the power dynamic in a very obvious way. I felt on top, I felt in charge, I felt like a queen on her throne. Well, maybe not quite all that, but you get the idea.

It’s the fact that he was doing something he doesn’t like, but he was happy to do it because it was for me, because he wants to serve me, because he really is submissive to me.

The typical bdsm activities, the flogging, bondage, cbt etc, can feel like I’m performing a service. Don’t get me wrong, I very much enjoy those things, and I’m very happy that he gets off on the bondage and all ’cause otherwise he wouldn’t keep coming back would he? ..but there’s still that overtone, even if it’s just in my mind, that he’s only there to get his rocks off, and I’m just there to do it for him. As Bitchy might say, where is my orgasm in that?

Of course, there’s no orgasm in it for me to have him doing menial chores, but it’s a thing where it’s mostly just about me getting what *I* want, without having to actively pander to anyone else’s desires. Which feels good.

 

I want to taste it.

The sight (and textures, and taste..) of a hot boy with a lovely cock that’s erect just for me excites me in a way nothing else can. So vanilla of me, isn’t it?

Maymay wrote a blog post about blowjobs, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

I’ve mentioned before that I love cock. I also have a bit of an oral fixation (probably one of the reasons I’m as fat as I am..) And I love making a guy crazy with pleasure, and having such intimate and pleasurable control of it. So of course, I love giving head. Other than being really well fucked, it might be my favorite thing to do.

Maymay brought up an interesting point about the power exchange aspects of blowjobs. Personally, I’ve really never thought of it as either a submissive or dominant act. It seems odd to me that some people think of it as strictly one or the other. It’s just another kind of sex - it is what you make of it. Getting fucked doesn’t make me submissive, and neither does going down on someone. It could be charged with that sort of energy, but for me it rarely is.

Like I said in Maymay’s comments, I think the times when I’ve felt the most dominant and sexy at the same time were during blowjobs.

Turning a partner on (and men get turned on so delightfully visibly, don’t they?), makes me feel sexy - desirable and hot and symbiotically aroused. Turning them on (with a flick of the tongue!) to the point of moaning and thrashing and begging (flushed face and hands clenching the bedsheets…) is a panty-drenching ego-trip that I’m happy to go on any day of the week. Using my mouth to do it just makes it that much better.

It’s such a fully sensual experience to use my mouth on a partner. I get to taste them, smell them, feel them with one of the body’s most sensitive organs, get a close-up view of the action, and use my hands at the same time. And you can’t get much closer to or more intimate with someone than having them inside your mouth, in your face, literally in your head. Not to mention there’s something powerfully hot about devouring someone like that.

I often feel very dominant when I’m giving head. It gives me an exquisite kind of control over my partner. Men always seem so helpless when they’re all overwhelmed by pleasure like that. When I have a man’s cock in my mouth, he is putty in my hands. And gods, do I ever love that.

And if I want to throw some real kink into it.. it is as easy and delightful to cause pain with my mouth as it is to give pleasure. CBT with tongue and teeth (and hands and fingernails… look ma, no toys!)… Seeing a boy on the edge, a mingling of fear and anticipation in his eyes, not knowing if the next sensation will be pleasure or pain.. so easy to go from soft tonguing to nipping teeth, an instantaneous and totally unpredictable transistion - hello mindfuck.

I suppose some would say all that could be true of any sex act. Blowjobs seem so much more powerfully evocative though, to me at least. There’s so much more I can do, and more minute control I can have over the effect with oral sex than handjobs or toys, etc. It’s like an erotic art form and delicious treat all wrapped up together.