Making him cry

Lust and compassion are a heady mix.

Jimmy was lying on the bed, delightfully naked, hands cuffed to the headboard. His back sported interesting loop-shaped prints from the monster toy I’d brought back from Florida especially for him. His backside was an even, deep pink – not a small feat when each stroke was leaving only a thin, curved line. I was whipping him because I could, and because I liked to, and because he is beautiful when he’s in pain.

His head was turned to the side on the pillow, and on his cheek I could see tracks of tears. I raised the implement; he looked back at me, wide-eyed, tears spilling onto his face. I brought the whip down onto his shoulders. He choked on a scream, and buried his face in the pillow, sobbing audibly. The whip fell again.

I suppose it would have been a reasonable question to ask myself at some point of my journey into topping, but I never wondered what I’d do if I made somebody cry. Never wondered what I’d feel. The freedom to cry is very hard to find for most bottoms I know; the possibility of getting there with Jimmy had seemed quite remote. And yet, here he was, shaking with tears, swallowing them back: crying. For me.

What I found is that I really liked it. If there had been distress behind the tears, or any psychological reason, I might have – might have! – felt some guilt. As it was, playing with nothing but pain, I found strength in his surrender. Not so much because I was causing him pain and obviously having an effect, but because he was clearly hurting, and yet submitting to me, and choosing to carry on with the scene.

Jimmy’s submission is the fire that feeds every word spoken, every glance exchanged, every cut of the whip. It’s thrilling and humbling, and I delight in receiving it. His tears were part of my prize.

I believe I want to do this again.

(Picture from the M/M site BoundGods)

‘Fear is part of the thrill’

Munchkins, are any of you fans of Neil Hannon of “Divine Comedy”?

If you are, you have, no doubt, already noticed that the title song of his new album “Bang Goes the Knighthood” is evidently inspired by the misadventures of our friend Max Mosley. If you’re not a fan, you are a) losing out on amazing music, b) should watch this video, recorded at an album-signing event in Dublin:

I have a couple of observations regarding this song.

1. If Ian Blair is a “Sir” now, with his fine bouquet of controversy, including minor things like having civilians shot on his watch and phone-tapping the Attorney General, I don’t see why peaceful enjoyment of BDSM should interfere with anyone getting a knighthood.

2. “Fear is part of the thrill”, is it now? Allow me to indulge in the fantasy that Mr Hannon knows whereof he speaks. Dear Neil: I don’t usually grind people under my heel, for lack of heels, but I give a fine whipping. Apply above.

From the all-caps brigade

This lovely comment got caught in my moderation queue, and I thought it needed to be brought to the attention of the wider audience. (It was left originally on a post with a film review):

MAY GOD BLESS ALL OF YOU FOR DOING SUCH A TERRIBLE SIN. ALL THE PRODUCERS AND EVERYONE WHO LOVE TO WATCH THIS KIND OF THING.
IF YOU THINK WHAT YOU HAVE DONE IS RIGHT, YOU ARE TOTALLY WORNG!
AND YOU PITY CRETURES WILL NOT WANT TO KNOW THE RESULT OF THIS SIN YOU HAVE TO GET.

Get it, you pity cretures? Bless you for sinning.

Whips and chains

When I thought about switching before, I imagined that kinks may translate neatly from the things I enjoy doing as a bottom to their topping equivalents. That I would go from schoolgirl roles to a prefect/teacher, from a blushing young girl to a governess – and would more or less enjoy the opposites of what I’ve always loved doing, and no more. On the previous occasions when I topped, this has been true: I’ve had much fun as a prison warden or a mistress of the house, and found spanking role-play fulfilling and fun. Other types of topping remained a buzz of curiosity in the back of my mind, and I ignored them.

When Jimmy and I met, we were busy on a fun, but physically demanding project that saw us working 14 hours a day or more. Somehow in the middle of this we managed to develop an attraction for each other, and by some miracle we also managed to preserve enough energy to tumble into bed, clutching and clawing like a pair of starved pumas. I didn’t know much about what Jimmy liked or wanted, but I knew I wanted to *hurt* him. So I did, cautiously and experimentally. I only had my hairbrush to hand (I hadn’t expected to need anything else!), and ended up turning his bottom a lovely rosy colour. However, this wasn’t enough: I also found that I wanted to tie him up, and bite him, and pull his hair, and, and, and. We had no time or energy for negotiations, so I filed away some of the more sadistic desires for later, if such occasions arose, and we had several great nights together anyway.

At one point we managed to snatch a few minutes to talk, and Jimmy told me that he was quite the little pervert. Well, not in those words: he actually told me that he had many interests and kinks, which it would take a long time to describe. I thought this was excellent news, because although spanking is really the only aspect of BDSM in which I have any experience, I’ve read a lot of BDSM fiction – and I was getting flashes of the most delicious images of things I wanted to do to Jimmy – and none of them had anything to do with stuff I ever wanted to do as a bottom.

I wanted to have him kneel at my feet. I wanted to rake my nails over his shoulders. I wanted to twist his nipples until he screamed. I wanted to collar and cuff him, just for the pleasure of seeing him wear the bonds that I put in place. I wanted to dress him up – in things he enjoyed wearing, but also things he hated, but would wear anyway, because I told him to. I wanted him to take food from my fingers and lick them clean. I wanted him helpless, and at my mercy. I wanted whips and chains.

And these were just a few vague ideas, before we’d managed to get to any sort of planning stage.

I had to conclude that my desires as a top had much more to do with traditional BDSM than my kink as a bottom, and that I was setting off into uncharted territories.

It’s quite odd, because in addition to being a fairly new top, I also find myself a newbie to many of the things Jimmy and I want to do together. There’s going to be a lot of research, and I’m going to have to ask lots of questions, and look things up a fair amount.

I’ve forgotten how to be a newbie. But I think I’m going to enjoy it.

(Picture from the M/M site “Bound Gods”)

A new direction (Adele goes domme)

I have something of a dilemma about where my blog is going, and I hope you munchkins will be able to help me distil my thinking into something we all like.

DISCLAIMER: I have always written about representation of kink in the media and about the state of erotic arts, and I will still always write about that. This topic isn’t going away.

With the above in mind…

This site is 4 1/5 years old, which isn’t just ancient in blog years, but also a decent stretch of time in a human’s life, particularly if one happens to be a young person developing as a grown-up and a kinkster. When I started blogging, I thought that I was done finding out everything about my kinks, and now all I had to do was chronicle my adventures.

(Pauses for the laughter to die down.)

Since I started blogging, not only have I turned from a young girl into an adult, I have also developed a fine collection of kinks that I hadn’t explored before. Mostly these have to do with me growing more dominant and much more sadistic, but also with coming to enjoy male submission more than I ever have before.

These feelings hybernated at the back of my mind for a long time, while I merrily continued to blog in the same X/F vein, until three weeks ago I met and clicked with a gloriously submissive boy. (His name is Jimmy. You may have seen him before.) I have spent most of my spare time since then thinking about spanking people, tying them up, and doing other unspeakable, delicious things. Like a banner unfurling inside my head, my dominant side took prominence in my fantasies, and simply won’t be ignored any more. I’m lucky to be able to explore and indulge it in real-life, but now I also want to write about it – a lot.

I know you munchkins are used to seeing me as a bottom/submissive, or at most mildly switchy, and that a sudden flood of femdom pictures and writing may be quite jarring. (Aside: you think you’re surprised? Spare a thought for my poor husband, a 100% top.) I feel a bit bad about ambushing you with Surprise!FemdomPr0n. Now, of course, this blog is my space, and I do absolutely feel free to write anything I like here, but even so I’m wary of taking an attitude of “too bad, suckers, you may have stayed with me and supported me for years, but now this blog is about undewater cross-stitching, and I don’t care if it squicks you”.

Fair warning, then. In the near future you’re going to hear quite a lot about my topping exploits. (Jimmy has given me permission to write about him; the poor lamb doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.) You may also see a lot of art featuring male submission. Yep, that includes naked boy bits. It also includes M/M, because it makes me hot.

(The X/F isn’t going anywhere, obviously, inasmuch as my interest in girls being spanked hasn’t gone anywhere. But boys need beating too, you know?)

This was your warning shot. I hope you can adjust, and enjoy what I have to say in the future.