Is That a Thing? – Wax Play

Everytime I am about to write about some kinky stuff, I would go search my history and see whether I have already written about them. Here’s a fun fact about kink, everything feels different when done with different people. I definitely had done wax play before but not with Oliver before. Playing with hot candle wax might be one of the first things that came to my mind while I used to think about kink. I’m talking about the time when I haven’t done anything yet. But in practise, I do it rarely. Because wax is annoying to deal with when it gets everywhere.

But here we are, I got myself two large candles, one white and one pink and Oliver lighted them already at the beginning of the session so he got tons of ammo when it was time to use them. He tied me up, my wrists and legs together and I was lying on the floor on my back. I kinda remember there being a giant anal hook up my ass too. Although I knew the hot wax was coming, I still managed to be surprised when he started. And I really should have seen this coming… everything kinky Oliver sets out to try, he would always add an extra layer of sadism on them. He doesn’t really hold back or start gently. I guess it can be seen as him trusting me excessively and also how much I can take. I’ve only seen wax play in shibari shows, and they usually do just a few drops at a time with pauses in between. Oliver more like poured the wax on my torso, near my pussy and on my legs, like he was pouring hot oil onto a steak on a pan. And there were no pauses really, except when he changed candle after he exhausted the first one in record time. The pace was relentless and I screamed for him to go slowly and he kinda ‘agreed’ but it surely didn’t feel like he actually slowed down. XD Whenever the hot wax hit sensitive spots on my body like the sides of my torso, my breasts, my pussy, or the underneath of my arms, the pain was almost unbearable. The wax felt like red hot needles poking me all over and I went into panic mode again, the second time in the same session (first was with the coconut rope).

My skin felt raw and sensitive and the wax covering my body dried up quickly and became hard. I felt like I was cocooned in a shell and every little movement I made felt like I was stretching my skin to the extreme, second from cracking. And of course, I was made to move quite a bit and pieces of wax peeled from my skin and I felt like I was a snake shedding my skin.

I liked wax play with Oliver surprisingly lot, just as I adore everything that makes me go into a panic mode. Panic seems to be my new fave fetish and it is constantly hungry for more. Next week, I got a very interesting sexadventure story to tell you guys, something that happened on none other than Valentine’s Day, so stay tuned. Until then, stay kinky! 😉

Confessions of a Sadist, part 3

It has been 1.5 years since I wrote the previous part about my sadism. And oh the number of people I’ve spanked at that time. 😀 I’ve sprinkled those stories here and there so you have to explore a bit if you want to read them. I might have to make a site map at some point. But here today, I want to talk about one specific sadistic experience I had recently.

I met this young guy at a kinky newcomers’ evening, he was extremely shy and didn’t talk much. We got to chatting a bit and I came to find out that he thinks he is submissive. He does want me to deal out some pain via spanking. We went to grab a coffee and I found out more just how shy he is. More than shy, he has severe social anxiety and he has a hard time to look me in the eyes and sometimes it takes quite a long time for him to reply. But we did agree on a session.

I had no idea what is going to happen on the session day. Since he has no experience whatsoever, I wasn’t sure what I even get to do. He requested pain, but he seems to have this slightly twisted idea of why a woman would want to hurt him. I made it clear to him that my desire to hurt people does not come from a place of hatred or anger. I really care about the people I play with. If I don’t like someone, and thus couldn’t care less about their well-being, I don’t find it enjoyable at all to hurt. I need to care about them first. I think he somehow had a hard time understanding my meaning, but I also think that he finally got it after the spanking.

Back to the session. It was intense. There is no other way to describe it. I had him tied from his wrists to my ceiling hook, stripped naked. But for some weirdest reason, that was the point he decided to stop obeying. Since my apartment is not that big, I sometimes have to turn the people hanging on my hook to get a better angle for myself to spank. But he wouldn’t budge. It was quickly becoming apparent that this was turning into a punishment. And didn’t that thought got my sadistic blood pumping.

It was a struggle. For him, not me. He wasn’t bratty, what he did was more than being bratty. It was flat out disobedience. And no matter how much pain I dealt on him, he wouldn’t obey. I had never got such a rush, nothing gets my sadist out than a disobeying sub. When he wouldn’t turn his back to me, I would switch to a whip made from a thin cable to get to his back no matter which way he faces. I covered his eyes so he wouldn’t see where I am and where the whip is coming from. I was going to start nice and slow, but that plan went out of the window pretty fast. I noticed his voice changing. He talks in this quiet shy voice, like he is afraid to speak with this real voice. But what I got out of him through pain was a loud and strong voice. He would roar at me, yell profanities, his whole body would shake from the adrenalin coursing through him from the extreme pain. I started to feel that he wanted me to get angry. He clearly had no idea how sadism work. Well, at least my sadism.

Cos not once did I lose my temper. I wasn’t even tempted. I’m not sure if he was aware, that every time he disobeys me, he is giving me a pure rush of sadism. There is always a certain amount of guilt when I inflict pain for others whenever it’s not a punishment. Like eating a donut. I love donuts, I know I’ve been good and eating well so I can ‘afford’ a donut but still, I would feel guilty. Punishments are like guilt-free donuts. He is giving me guilt-free donuts. The funny thing is, I saw it in his eyes many times during the session, he wanted to obey. Especially the direct commands. There is a submissive inside of him. But for some reason, he was steadfast of not submitting. He wanted me to force him, literally by force, to submit. But that’s not really my style. And I don’t think that’s even how submission works, at least not for me. Me fighting against submission when I want to, well I’m not sure that’s even possible. I would safeword out.

Anyways, I stopped at the point when his whole backside and half of his frontside were covered in bruises. Heavy heavy bruises. The kind that if I spank any more, his skin would break. His limit wasn’t skin breakage but he tapped out when I started to squeeze his buttcheeks that were swollen and bruised up. The squeezing is something that would break me easily, so I completely understand how he couldn’t stand it almost at all.

Afterward, I had a long chat with him. I confessed to him that I wasn’t sure if I like the disobedient attitude he seemed to be forcing on himself. However fun it was to punish him. I let him know that I cared about his well-being a lot, and I think he believed it then, by how many times I checked whether his hands were getting cold or numb. Or how I stopped his arms from coming down too quickly from the bindings cos I know how much it hurts when the blood rushes back to your limbs. I think he didn’t expect me to care, he was actually touched by it.

After the session, I made sure to check on him for a few days and about a week after. I was left with a positive feeling about it. I guess I surprised at myself, this session was as close as I had ever got to be the dominant one. I was surprised how natural it felt, or how much I like be in charge. I wasn’t aroused though, it was something else entirely. I was attracted to him a little bit but when I was in that top space, I wasn’t really thinking about sex at all. This is still all very new to me. And I’m not sure whether I would get to experience it again. I would have to think about that and I shall let you know. Until then, stay kinky! 😉

Is That a Thing? – Vampire Gloves

I encountered a pair of vampire gloves a while ago at a party. One of the biggest sadists in the scene got them and showed them off at a kinky party. Let’s just call him R for the sake of this post. They look like a pair of innocent black leather gloves, but upon closer inspection, the palm side every finger is covered with sharp small metal spikes. My blood ran cold just from the sight of them.

Here’s the thing, I’ve always hated spiky or sharp things. Remember my post about the Wartenberg wheel three years ago? I don’t like needles, I don’t like spiky sharp metal things. But for some reason, I was very curious about the gloves even though I haaaated it upon the first little taste R put on my forearm. I didn’t like it at all, not one bit. The spikes were sharp enough that it would have broken my skin easy if only R would have put a bit more pressure. I’m pretty convinced that the little devil on my should possessed me in that moment, because I actually asked him to try them on me a bit more thoroughly. So he did. Standing behind me with those bloody gloves, he grabbed my shoulders, arms, back, chest, the back of my neck and my scalp. I screamed like a fucking banshee. I’ve never screamed so loud from anything, not even caning. Especially on my scalp, they made my whole body tingle and hum, and I was terrified. Afterward, they left behind this strong relentless sensation like I’ve been stung by a thousand bees. And it wouldn’t go away no matter how much I rubbed my skin with my hands. It only went away after a hard merciless spanking and flogging. Those gloves hurt sooo much, but it didn’t break the skin. That time…

I didn’t like the sensation and pain the gloves created. Not one bit. Not at all. But for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I craved them like I’ve never craved any other torture devices. I craved them like I sometimes craved a proper back flogging. So finally last week’s party, I asked nicely for R to bring them to the party and he obliged. I asked for proper treatment from it. Should have known you can never quite get exactly what you want from a sadist. I thought I would just get the same kind of treatment as last time. But then R told me to strip almost naked, with just my panties, stay-ups, and bra. And then he told me to go lie down one of the mattresses in the party venue. The moment I hit the mattress, I knew I was fucked.

I didn’t expect to take on the gloves lying down, defenseless. At least when I’m standing up, I didn’t feel quite as trapped compared to lying on the mattress with a giant mean sadist hovering over me basically with a hundred spikes pointing at me. He then proceeded to grab, grope, drag, hold and press all over me – my arms, my waist, my stomach, my thighs, my back, my neck, my breast, my nipples (!) and even my freaking face! And he did it so rapidly that I could only scream from pain. I was quite sure I couldn’t even breath. My whole body was tensed since I did all I could to hold myself in place since struggling and moving would hurt even more but all I wanted to do was escape. But I couldn’t. It created the most potent panic that I’ve ever experienced. It wasn’t just pain and fear, it was purely fight or flight reflex, my body going into high alert. R also rolled me around grabbing from my waist and I went into a fucking frenzy. My mind shut down, the masochist came out to play. When he pulled my legs open and grabbed hard on my inner thighs, I unraveled. When he pinned me down and put those gloves on my palms and pressed down, I screamed louder than I’ve ever screamed. It was the worst pain I’ve ever experienced, worse than canes breaking my skin. It’s the unbearable kind of pain.

In the end of it, I was sweating like I just did a 1000 calorie workout, I was breathing hard, every piece of muscles in my body ached and that stinging sensation was on everywhere. I was disoriented and slightly light-headed. I wanted ice-cream. XD But I was also… euphoric. It felt like I just survived some life and death situation and came out in one piece (more or less). It was adrenaline pumping full force in my veins. I felt amazing. I felt more alive than ever and it was crazy. And because I am an adrenaline junkie and a masochist, the whole experience left me aroused as fuck. Which is quite rare for me because I usually get aroused from the person and not the act and I’m not attracted to R in the traditional sense. Although his sadist energy got me a little confused. Or the masochist in me. 😀 I was left wondering what it would be like to get the glove treatment from Oliver… *shiver*

Later at the party, people who had knew me for a while now and seen me playing at parties, they told me that they had never heard me scream like that. And I couldn’t exactly argue, I don’t think I’ve ever screamed like that before. I’m still terrified of them. It’s the combination of pain that I hate, strong fear and the panic that the gloves roused in me that got me to worship them in a way I hardly worship any particular tool before. And the next time, the holes started to appear. It didn’t look like that the gloves made any big marks on the same day but on the next time, holes started to appear on my ribs, thighs, arms, butt and tummy. And I kinda adore them. I hope you enjoy this little story, I should get around to write some other naughty things next week. Until then, stay kinky! 😉

The B in BDSM – Part 6, Sadistic Bondage

Exactly three months ago, I wrote about ropes and bondage with Oliver. Just last week, things took a new turn. Just recently he was traveling and attend a shibari party where he was taught a new approach to ropes, and it happens to sit just like a glove on Oliver – the sadistic kind of bondage. I mean, he is already quite sadistic and rough most of the time with ropes but this time it was different, because the most brutal parts were left till the end.

Last week’s session was all about bastinado as punishment, well at least at the beginning. When the long 101 strike punishment was over, it felt like a big reward to have my ass brutally and thoroughly fucked. Anal is a big fetish for both of us, and sometimes it’s just so fucking good – it’s intense, it’s a little painful, it’s too much that I was constantly thinking that I was going to break, that something was going to snap in my head because of the intensity… until his cock hits some mysterious spot in my ass and it would feel so good that it would snap me back from falling into oblivion. My mouth would go slack, lips hanging open, I can’t even feel the drool dripping out of my mouth until the cold liquid hits my skin on my arm or hand or breast. I’m quite sure my eyes were also rolled back into my skull. They were not kidding about the saying ‘fuck the brains out’, cos my brain definitely checked out completely. And then everything unraveled and all of the sensations become too much and a full body orgasm shook my whole being, in the way only anal sex can. I would feel it up to my temple and it would leave me shaking. But he wasn’t done with me. He continued slowly for a while and resume the brutal pace one more time…

The Threesome

I wanted to throw the fuck up, I was so anxious. There was a party on Friday and Oliver told me on Tuesday that maybe we could have a threesome at the party with Iris, me and him. I knew he said maybe but my anxiety was slowly building up until I was ready to throw up any minute on Friday. Luckily, I got three hours of distraction after work cos I went to see Tarantino’s newest before the party (read my review at my new blog #shamelessplug). When I arrived, I still had to change into some party clothes and put on my eye make-up, and they haven’t arrived yet so I had time to freak out all by myself in the changing room. As soon as I stepped out of the changing room, both of Iris and Oliver were standing near the entrance, and I focused on her almost entirely. I went to give Oliver a hug first cos, to be honest, I was scared shitless. Not scared of her, but more of myself and how I behave around her. Let’s just be real, I have no control over myself when I’m having a crush. Although the chaotic crush I have on her had a little time to calm down, it was still pretty chaotic.

Iris and I decided Oliver needed some party makeup too, so we went to put some serious eye makeup on him. We went for Captain Hook’s look on ‘Once Upon a Time’ TV show, and what can I say, I have a weakness towards men with eye makeup. Oliver had never looked sexier to me. But still, she occupied my attention way more.