Feeling the Charge

You've denied this part of yourself for a long time...so long it hurts to think about it, and not the good kind of hurting. Not the pain you're looking for tonight.

Everything has happened so fast these last few weeks. Max would disagree, would look at you and remind you of how very patient he's been, waiting until you were ready for him. Ready for this.

Ready to give up control.

It is still new between the two of you. Only one previous date, but a lot of talking and texting and some phone sex and real sex and a deep connection and this....this other connection. This need and trust and knowing. When his beast meets yours.

Later, you'll send him a poem by a friend, with the refrain "I am the beast beneath fair skin."

But now, you're watching, waiting. Taking your cues from him. You've played before of course, but again, it has been a long time. And you've never ever tried this before.

He's already stripped off your skirt and top, and seemed pleased at the little lacy thing you picked up this weekend. You're still wearing it. And the fishnet stockings.

He puts on music, and you're thankful for it, sure that otherwise he could hear your heart beat.

He plugs in the toy, and at first its just a kind of glowing ball of electricity, like the ones at children's museums you remember.

He walks...no...no he stalks you, his prey. You know he can feel your apprehension, and you hope he can feel the excitement as well.

*ZZZZZZZZZZZZAP* The little ball of electricity makes contact with your arm. You jolt, more in surprise than anything else, and then you lie down again, quietly, watching. You haven't had time to think about what you're feeling.

*ZZZZZZZZZZZAP* down your side, and its like this wispy little lace teddy isn't even there at all. Its a biting, pinching, needle-feeling. It feels like getting shocked. Of course it does. And shockingly enough, you like it.

*ZAP* again. Again. Again. Down your thighs, between your legs, just not close enough... and the current is running through you, warm and welcome and punishing and pulsing, and sooner than you know it your pussy is soaking and your hips are thrusting....you'd ride that damn bulb if he'd let you.

And he stops. You gasp, and look up, trying not to make eye contact, trying to be a good submissive, but you want to know what's going on.

He speaks....and his voice is different. You've always liked his voice, from the beginning, from before, but this is different. Soft but firm....velvet wrapped around iron, or like a Ferrari tire running over fine gravel.

"Just wait."

You'd wait years. He pulls off the bulb, and adds a different attachment, a long ...probe. This will focus the electricity a bit more, you realize.

After he sends electricity running through you with the long shaft, you're panting. And he isn't done. Out comes something that looks...that IS...a small glass rake. You gasp, and realize you're nowhere near apprehensive. You're needy and wanting and wet and ready for whatever he wants.

Again he starts with your arms, raking your skin, sending hotwhitepurplesharp sparking all the way through you...all the way to You, your core, the part you've hidden so long you sometimes pretended it wasn't there. He's raking down your stomach now, teasing your shaved pussy area, and you can't help it anymore, you arch and gasp and cum, riding this beautiful lightning streaking through your body.

And he isn't done.

The next attachment comes out. Is that...tinsel? It looks like a duster made out of tinsel and you stifle a giggle and then OH SHIT. A thousand tiny fingers of hot white electric lust shoot through you, and you cry out, a wordless aching cry.

He smiles. Like a jackal.

You'd told him your safeword before this all started, and you haven't said it yet. Truth be told, you've never said it (though later...not much later...this would change with Max.)

"More?"

Oh yes. Yes please. Yes Sir.

At some point the teddy is gone, but you leave the stockings on, and the garter.

There's a tiny metal wheel attachment next. You look closer, and see there are tiny spikes all over the wheel.

OH. SHIT.

In the five seconds it takes for him to attach the wheel to the charger and start working you over, you realize this is It. You've found your match, someone who doesn't play around with playing. Someone who is able to give you as much pain as you can handle, at long last. Someone who may be able to give you more than you can handle, and oh, you've ached for this.

And then all your thoughts are gone and he's running that wheel over your pale tender skin, causing your blood to boil and your breath to cease and your mind to start floating away on pure sensation. There are hot angry red trails running across your arms, your breasts, your belly and thighs, but you don't care....your body arches and you come again and again.

And he's not done.

He takes off the wheel, and he does something and then tucks the charger into the back of his jeans. He spreads your legs apart, and there's that Ferrari voice again...

"Don't arch."

And you realize a second too late what he's doing. Not that you'd stop him. Oh, not ever.

His tongue laps at your shining clit, and you can see the blue arch of electricity a second before you feel it and OH OH OH you're cumming and shaking from trying not to move too much and oh gods he's doing it again.

The endorphins are kicked up so high you really do feel like you're floating away, and you don't even register it when he carries you into the bedroom and strips off his clothes, but you come down enough to arch and thrust and push and clench when and cum, again and again and again, until one final time, when he looks you in the eye and growls, and you haven't said it yet, and you're still the same kick ass woman you've always been, but you're also irreversibly, His.

And for months, you can't stop telling people about the wonders of the violet wand.

When was the last time you were jolted into a new experience?

Play on the Edge IV - Safe, Sane, Consensual

Continued from Play on the Edge III

How could I bring closure to my project? The advice of my contact was to get “real” by moving out of the world of the imagined and theoretical and into the lives of those who actually live and breathe the lifestyle. With her assurances that everything would become crystal clear once I was in the company of the converted, I decided to attend the local SPICE (South Florida People Involved in Consensual Endeavors) meeting. I’d had what I considered to be a taste test and I was fairly optimistic on the long drive from Miami to North Broward. I am not sure what I expected from a group of people who were involved in the lifestyle, but I was certain I wanted to learn. Sometimes when you step into a space that is not your own, the people who normally live there ask you to leave. I often find however that when those people are living in a space that is on the fringe, they ask you to come in. At the Off the Cuff monthly meeting at Club Kink in Pompano I could not have felt more welcome. The discussion was candid, earnest and funny. The atmosphere was relaxed and comfortable. If I had expected to meet a crowd of freakish sex fiends, I was in the wrong place. To be sure these couples did have sex, plenty of good kinky sex, but they weren’t freakish.

I was awed by the support I received and by how those who were offering their help considered it as crucial to my having a safe and high quality experience. John Warren, the author of The Loving Dominant, and his wife Libby, were veritable encyclopedias, full of unlimited knowledge on the topic of BDSM. John is a true academic and a faithful practitioner, who has written quite a few books on the subject. He has over thirty years worth of intimate knowledge on kink and an awareness of its history that goes far beyond that. John, Club Kink’s manager, an experienced dominant, had come to the club as an observer for almost two years before he actually participated in play. He encouraged me to let him & Jane (the life partner he’d met at play party) know when and if I was interested in visiting the club on a guided tour. Rick, a dominant and clinical sexologist who ran the meeting, talked openly about his own missteps when he entered the lifestyle and how lucky he was that his wife Sandra had stayed with him while they learned together. All agreed that the best way to bring "new blood" into the lifestyle is to guide, teach and mentor them in the ways that they can fulfill their needs and desires. All considered meetings like Off the Cuff essential to this process. I heard a few horror stories, a few happy endings and added a lot more depth to my knowledge of what it meant to be in a BDSM relationship. By the time the meeting was over I had a great deal more knowledge than I had come in with. I had a pocketful of phone numbers and email addresses and entreaties to contact them if I had any questions. I had come to an educational support group meeting and asked for help, information and direction. I left feeling welcome, wanted and safe. If I have questions and concerns as I continue this journey, I know I have guides should I need them.

According to Dr. Peggy Kleinplatz “Our bodies are the repositories for memories, fears, secrets, hopes and dreams”. Kleinplatz asks us, “Why stop at orgasm when we can aim for ecstasy?” “Maybe”, she suggests “we really ought to consider learning from those who aim high – from those who aim to get all that they can out of their sexual encounters and refuse to settle for perfunctory sex. They aim to use sex as a vehicle for personal growth and transformation and interpersonal intimacy. If the means they use are outside the conventions and constraints of ordinary sexual relations, so too, are their goals extraordinary.” Out of the ordinary indeed; from the first time I read it, this passage stuck me as truth. During this project I’ve been challenged. On some level I’d like to think I haven’t had to stretch myself at all and that my mind is and will continue to be completely open. Except that if I am honest, I will admit that I had to adapt and encourage myself to embrace quite a few ideas that hadn’t been part of my world view. I have evolved and been transformed and emerged anew, and for that I am truly grateful.

BDSM, like swinging, preferring blonds, enjoying women with huge silicone implants – it’s all considered to be fetish. A fetish is any interest or desire that may not fall into the "Judeo /Christian norm". More officially, according to the American Heritage Dictionary, a fetish is “something, such as an object or a nonsexual part of the body that arouses sexual desire and may become necessary for sexual gratification“. Exploring BDSM is also an exploration of self. Everyone whether they admit it or not, has a little kink desire in them. There are three essential things I’ve discovered or had reinforced during this project. First, there are more “good” people (judges, senators, doctors, lawyers....etc) in this lifestyle than the average person realizes. Second, being in the lifestyle or interested in it does not make you “bad”, sick, crazy or perverted. Mostly being part of the lifestyle makes you honest. Third and most important, Y.K.I.N.M.K.B.Y.K.I.O.K. Translation - Your kink is not my kink, but your kink is ok! Not everyone is going to have the same interests in the lifestyle. My partner and I may not have the same interests, but in the learning process we'll hopefully come to find that we can work with our different likes to grow and play together. In Kinkorama Simon Sheppard emphasizes that “sadomasochistic sex, especially the traditional leathersex variety, is chockablock with rules and rituals. It’s fun, of course, but these road rules also exist because this stuff is scary. Kink involves a radical vulnerability that is always at least a little risky because it’s letting the big, hungry animal out to play." I didn’t expect that the lessons I learned from this experience would be about the importance of honesty and intimacy in relationships. I definitely could not have known that the meeting would have taught me more about the nature of human attraction and the simple yet very complicated things those who have “vanilla” sex take for granted. The credo of " SSC - Safe, Sane, and Consensual" is something most BDSM participants live and play by. It struck me, much to my surprise, that individuals who partake in the BSDM lifestyle have much safer sexual interactions than the rest of us. What lessons should those in the vanilla community take from this? Just how much of the Hippocratic entreaty first do no harm do we take into our relationship, our homes, our bedrooms?

Ultimately I am just one of many chefs in the gourmet restaurant of life, tasting different dishes on my own journey of sexual exploration and discovery. Many of us will opt for a life of happy absolute vanilla. An adventurous few, more than the rest of us may think, will visit the kitchen of Kink, even if only on special occasions. We will dine at the table of desire, maybe even attempt to sneak a guilty peek at the dark molten chocolate of dessert, burning our fingers on the oven door in the process. In the end there is no right technique, and certainly there is no perfect recipe. We make choices. We make mistakes. We evolve. As Sheppard reminds us “For better or worse – for better and worse – we make up our lives as we go along.” So at this, the end of my little adventure, I raise my plate of dribbled chocolate sauce and crumbs and say - thank you sir, may I have another.

*References available on request

"The first rule of Fight Club is...you don't talk about fight club."

Now writing about it, on the other hand...well, that's different.

A friend of mine asked me to house-sit for her on the weekends for the next month or so. Of course, I jumped at the chance, considering the unfortunate circumstance of still having my ex as a roommate. When I agreed, she threw in the kicker, "By the way, you should invite Mr. Mellow over... I'm sure you're dying to get your freak on!" Um, hell-to-the-yeah! She didn't have to say more! LOL, I was wondering if her ass had rigged up some cameras or some shit to record what she knew was going to be a smackdown of epic proportions!

"The second rule of Fight Club is -- you DO NOT talk about Fight Club"

Mellow and I had been speaking on the phone about kicking my submission to him up a notch, as well as pushing the rough play a little further. The last time we had been together, I told him to slap my face when we were getting down and he cautiously tapped my cheek. I teased him, letting him know that if I could take him choking me with his dick and hazing my ass with paddles and whatnot, he could hit me harder than that. Yeah..I talk to damn much.

He was more than happy to keep me company at my friend's empty townhouse and had arranged to fly in late Friday evening, giving me enough time to finish up at work and get it all primped and pretty by 10 p.m. to pick him up. Before he left home to go to the airport, he called me and said, "You ready, baby?" I told him I couldn't wait. I was on my way home, after getting my nails and toes done and filling my kinky shopping list. Time to shower, and get ready to make a run to the airport...I still ended up late. He called me just as I was taking one last look in the mirror and asked, "Where you at, girl?" I told him I was sorry I was running late. I was leaving the house now. He hung up. Ohhh, he was a bit pissed. LOL. So I took one last puff of my kush, checked my ta-tas in the mirror and rode out.

I picked him up. The original plan was for him to drive so I could give him head while we were on the way. He was a bit miffed that I was late, so he threw his shit into the backseat and got in the passenger side. I tried to make small talk, but he wasn't having it. He was upset, and told me that I would "pay for that bullshit". So here's where I talk too much again, "Ooh, what, you gonna beat it up now? That's what you said last time, and you barely tapped me." I was so full of shit, cuz I knew he had some tricks up his sleeve, I must be a masochist for real. He mumbled, kinda under his breath, "Yeah...talk that shit now."

At the house, we barely got in the door before he pushed me to my knees and around my neck, he placed the black leather collar and leash (strategically placed just inside the front door). If he hadn't pulled his dick out, it would have bust his zipper open. I think the sight of me on my knees in front of him with my dress falling open and in straight-up slave mode got him more than ready. I could barely get my gag reflex in check before he was mercilessly fucking my throat.

Just as I thought I would choke to death, he pulled out of my mouth and lead me to the bedroom. Bending me in front of the bed, I was instructed to grab my ankles as I was spanked with the other end of the leash. More like lashings, he alternated between the leash and his hand, at some point, he pushed me over onto the bed. Roughly, he flipped me onto my back and wrapped the leash around his fist as he pushed into me and pulled me up into his chest. He commenced to fuck the shit out of me, while lamenting about how I was late picking him up, and how I had talked all that shit. He said, "Yeah, I could smack the shit out of you right now." I said, "Smack the shit out of me then." He said, "What the fuck did you say? Did I ask you to say something to me?" He pushed up in me hard and deep and just as I almost let an "Ahh" slip out...WHAP! He slapped the living shit out of me!

So there I was, laying there and silently moving my tongue around in my mouth, making sure all my teeth were still in tact, when WHAP! Another slap. Ok, see... now this was NOT what I was expecting! I was trying to decide if I should tell him that shit really hurt, or just concentrate on the fucking I was getting. Pain. Dick. Pain. Dick. WHAP! Before I could come to a conclusion, this muhfugga slapped me a 3rd time. I had to tap out, I was scared I may have to make an emergency trip to the dentist in the morning. Surely, my jaw was dislocated...Surely.


"The third rule fo Fight Club -- someone yells stop, goes limp, taps out, the fight is over."

I put my hand up to my face to block any further abuse and told him he had to stop. "Don't stop fucking me," I said. "Just please don't slap me again!" He smirked and said, I told you not to talk shit. He pulled out and flipped me over and pulled me up onto my knees, letting go of the leash, he grabbed a handful of my locs and banged me crazy. I was clenching my jaw, feeling like I had been in a bar brawl. I needed to take a break. I started to work my muscles around his dick, trying to milk out the ending of this thrashing. I bucked back onto him and he pushed in deep and grabbed my ass with both hands as he let go.

Afterward, we lay there, sweaty, dry-mouthed and spent. (Me, with an ice pack pressed against my jaw...) I had no idea what just happened. My jaw was hurting, I have bruises all over my ass and back. What the fuck just happened?

He looked at me, and with his eyes, he said, "I Am Jack's Smirking Revenge."

To Be Continued...

Have you ever had knock-down, drag-out sex?

Pain is Pleasure

I am the queen of talking shit…straight instigating in the naughty, flirty sense. I had been away for a week and I was dying to get it in with him----gangsta style of course. He hated (and loved) that I always felt the need to go toe-to-toe. What can I say, I’m from BK and it’s just how I roll. I already knew what he was capable of when provoked. Just the thought made me want to act up even more. lol Of course for the first two days I purposely ignored his texts. Thereafter, I kept my responses very short and vague. I knew this would make him livid but at the same time it had him feening to get me alone. Whenever he hadn’t seen me for an extended period, he stayed checking in just to make sure I wasn’t giving HIS pussy away. On the car ride back, even though I was going about 20 miles above the speed limit to get to him, I made sure I played it cool via text. “WTF, why haven’t you been responding to my messages? Wait until I see your ass tonight….", he texted. I couldn’t help but giggle giddily to myself while I sang along to Beyonce’s new joint. I quickly responded that he should save his punk ass threats for the next chick, stomped on the gas and practically floored it to our rendezvous location. I wanted to make sure that I got there before him with enough time to prepare.

How I managed to get to the hotel without getting a ticket is beyond me but thankfully I had arrived with about an hour to spare. An hour an half, since I knew his ass would be late. The room was just as I had pictured it----impeccable and perfect, white linens on a king sized bed; beautiful marble floored bathroom with a Jacuzzi and rain showerhead; and of course a 42 in flat panel television. (A beautiful hotel room is such a turn on to me.) I was already horny during the drive but when I saw the room, all I can say is MOIST—what! I quickly showered with his favorite scented gel, lotioned my entire body with matching body butter, and followed that up with the matching body spray. The room probably smelled like I had been living there for months. I smelled like fucking pure seduction but I felt slightly nervous in anticipation of his arrival. Since I was headed into battle, I needed to put on all the necessary armor: my favorite black vinyl corset with the matching over-the-knee stiletto boots. No panties or bra necessary. I slicked my hair back into a pony, threw on my dog collar and attached the metal leash. Just as I snapped the leash onto my collar, this negro was banging on the hotel door. Perfect. I threw the leash over my shoulder, grabbed my wooden paddle wrapped with black electric tape and headed into what was about to be the kinkiest battle of the sexes ever.

I opened the door trying to look the MOST unimpressed but inside I was loving the scowl he had on his face. I wanted to beg for mercy before we even started but fuck that---fuck him. I’m a defiant bitch. He stared at me so hard it was as if he had superman’s x-ray vision and he was taking a sneak peak into my soul. Shit, he was really fucking pissed---it was about to be on. We stared each other down in the doorway for what seemed like the longest minute ever. Finally, as I could feel myself about to lose at our game of “Who’s gonna look away first”, I yelled –YOU’RE LATE and slammed the door right in his grill. He’s swift so he caught the door before it closed completely---came in and slammed the door behind him. At this point, I was literally giving him my ass to kiss as I walked back with an attitude towards the bed. He grabbed the metal leash attached to my collar and WHAM—I was laid out on my back before I could take two steps from him. Here we go!

Yo, I was seriously stunned and my heart was racing. The marble floor was cold against my bare ass which was throbbing from the take-down. I knew this was going to be a LOOONG night with plenty of bruises to show for it. He jumped his 200+lb frame directly on top of me, gripping the leash even tighter. He brought his face close to mine as if he intended to kiss me. Instead, I could see he was becoming intoxicated by his favorite scent on my body. He whispered in my ear, “Bitch—don’t move an inch.” I could smell his cologne mixing with my pure seduction and I wanted to melt in his muscular arms. Instead I gripped his freshly shaven face with my hands, wrapped my thick muscular legs around his waist and squeezed both with all my strength. He gasped for air, gritting through whatever pain I was inflicting on him. I needed to show him I was there to rumble and would not surrender so easily. Just the weight of his entire body on top of me and the pressure of his belt buckle against my clit made my pussy tingle. We tussled for a few minutes until he finally regained control of the situation. All of my efforts to get the leash back in my possession were thwarted—he had it gripped up too tight between his thick fingers. He pulled me to my knees using the collar. I gasped for air while he looked down at me, grinning at the sight of my struggle---sick bastard. I used my hands to grab at him, trying everything in my power to hurt him---pinching and punching at his chest until finally I had ripped his button down shirt AND his wife-beater off his body. He cocked his free hand back and slapped the shit out of me. I let out a long moan and my pussy gushed. Fighting back tears, I looked at him like I didn’t know whether to kill him or to kiss him. He quickly unbuckled his pants and whipped out his thick, pulsing dick---it looked absolutely delightful. “Did you miss this dick?” he asked. I didn’t answer (partially because I could barely breathe from the collar choking me). SLAP—he hit me again. “Bitch did you miss this dick?” he asked again. True to my defiant nature, I smiled devilishly and said NOPE. Our eyes met and I knew he understood he was going to have to put in work to break me.

He used the leash to drag me towards the bed, scraping my knees on the floor. He sat down and shoved his long, thick dick all the way to the back of my throat. I gagged initially and tears rolled down my face. I tried to resist but he tightened the grip on my collar and used his free hand to hold my head down to take in his full length. At this point my clit was throbbing and I could feel my wetness on my inner thighs and ass. Eventually my throat relaxed and I began working my tongue around the base of his dick. I DID miss his dick. He adjusted my face so he could see me work and encouraged me to suck harder with an occasional “yeah bitch, suck that dick”. I loved working while he watched. I rubbed my entire face along the length of his dick and in his pubic hair, kissed his inner thighs and then began gently massaging his balls with my tongue. I was getting into a zone---my special place. He started to relax his grip on my chain and laid back to enjoy my lips and tongue on him. I felt like I was regaining control.

He was getting excited, using his hands on my head to direct my speed up and down his shaft. I could feel him twitching and pulsating in my mouth. Just as his moans got louder and his grip on my chain got looser, I abruptly stopped and jumped to my feet---practically laughing as he looked up enraged at the disruption. Fuck him, I hadn’t surrendered just yet. He was pissed and I loved it. He quickly grabbed me and literally threw me to the floor on the OTHER side of the bed. Before I could recover, he grabbed my neck to stand me up and pinned me to the wall. He squeezed my throat tighter and I could feel my eyes roll to the back of my head. He kissed me aggressively, taking both of my lips into his mouth and then sucking each of my lips individually before pushing his soft tongue into my mouth. With his free hand, he pried open my legs and pinched my clit between his thumb and his finger. He, of course, ripped my $150 corset in attempts to bite and suck on my nipples. I was PISSED but nearly hyperventilating. I felt powerless in his hands. He tossed me roughly onto the bed and cleverly wrapped the leash around the bed post so I couldn’t freely move. He flipped me over to my knees so my ass was in the air and proceeded to spank me with my own paddle (an unfortunate hazard of bringing weapons to such a battle lol). After the first stroke, I laughed and gasped “that’s all you got?”. I knew such taunting would make him eventually black out on me which was exactly what I was craving. With each subsequent swing of the paddle, my entire body began to sting and I was screaming and moaning his name at the top of my lungs. Clawing at the sheets, I remember thinking—god I hope no one calls the police. After he felt he had given me enough punishment, he tossed the paddle, grabbed my chain from behind and thrust the full length of his dick into my wet, sore pussy. He let out a moan of his own as I came almost immediately, clamping down my tight pussy around the hardness of his dick. “Yeah cum on my dick. Cum hard…who’s pussy is this?” he said in between breaths. “YOOOOOOOOURS” I moaned back. I couldn't fight anymore. “Good girl” he responded. He pulled my leash tighter, arching my back and pumped even harder. He worked my spot for what seemed like eternity. I couldn’t stop cumming and it didn't take long before I felt lightheaded enough to pass out. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled out. I turned quickly to slurp up all of his warm, delicious cum. I collapsed onto the bed, my entire body aching in pain and with pleasure. He scooped me onto his smooth caramel chest and gently rubbed my sore body with his hands. I nudged my face into the crook of his neck, taking in all of his scent and looked up at him —“Good girl” he whispered one last time. Now that we had made war…..it was time to make love.

Have you ever made war with someone you loved? How far would you go before you surrendered?