a glimpse of energy transference

I was sitting on the floor at his feet with my eyes closed. He was using our leather slapper on my face.


“Thank you, Sir.”

Smack, smack.

“Thank you, Sir,” softer this time.

Each hit landed with purpose, some harder than before. And every subsequent “Thank you, Sir” became more breathless. I felt tension in my body, spooling up to orgasm potential. I felt the sting of each slap and the corresponding surge of tingles in my clit.

I also could not. stop. smiling.

The scene wasn’t a heavy one, per se. But it wasn’t very light either. I was in subspace, but the energy I felt was almost giddy. It didn’t exactly match to my own feelings.

I was euphoric, but now I was euphoric and giggling, which usually means a very Sadistic turn of events. Desperate to see where things were heading, I opened my eyes to look at Him.

He was trying, and failing, to conceal a smile as He continued slapping my face. They came a bit harder, with more sting, but the giggles still persisted.

“Why are you smiling?!” I asked incredulously.

Then I burst into fits of giggles again.

As an empath, I have days when I loathe feeling other people’s energy and emotions. The general public can be very negative. But moments like these, when we’re so in tune with each other, that I feel His excitement and barely contained primal energy, make it a worth while trait to have.

《《Cross posted to Fetlife 》》

Sub Drop # 3

On this edition of The Sub Drop… If you play publicly, be aware that something you do in your own bedroom may feel different in front of other people.

Last night we attended a new munch & play party. There were a couple familiar faces, which was nice, and we met a lot of new people too. And while a bunch of us were sitting in room chatting about face slapping, Sir reaches over and casually slaps my cheek 3 or 4 times to punctuate a statement.

My body did what it always does, stiffens and then relaxes. But my mind sort of short circuited.

He slapped me in front of other people for the first time. Casually. As though He does it all the time. I mean He does, but never in front of anyone.

Now you all know I’m an exhibitionist. But to me, a face slap is just… woah.

And to be honest, since I don’t have many local friends or acquaintances who are masochists, to not feel out of place with my kinks is still a new sensation.

But in that moment? Part of me was horrified that others could clearly see that objectification turned me on and another part was worried about making people uncomfortable. (Chronic people pleaser, I’m in recovery.)

Then, at the end of those 5 seconds (seriously, how complex is the human mind to run through all that in 5 seconds?), I gave in to the weight of the collar around my neck and trusted Him. I let myself bliss out in the feel of His slaps. In front of half a dozen people.

I regret nothing.


She knew this wasn’t a serious punishment. But it still felt like one.

“In the chair,” He said, indicating the usual spot for such things. He stepped outside and closed the door.

After pulling her leggings down to her knees, she knelt on the cushion, facing the back of the chair. She breathed and waited. When the door opened, she arched her back just a little more.

“Good girl,” He cooed. She wiggled her hips and beamed with pride.

He caressed her ass, softly but with purpose. “I’m going to make this fun for me. I think you’ve been bratty enough to warrant it.”

Fun for Him meant sadistic play. She inhaled sharply. “Yes, Sir.”

He turned the music up, and began to slap her ass. His fingers pressed in with each thwack. It didn’t take long for her to begin to scream and cry out. He paused, and changed the position of His hand. Now it was a full hand smack. She screamed.

He growled as He shoved His hand through her wet lips, just brushing her clit. Her hips pressed back into the not-so-gentle touch, and He pulled back. The smacks on her ass continued. Her screams escalated. He could sense the need for a change, and again shoved His hand toward her clit again, this time giving her a more direct stroke. Her cries turned to mewls of desire.

He returned to smacking her ass, and then threw a punch. Compared to the sensation of a stinging slap, the blunt force was heaven. It was almost like a reset button. Another punch landed on the other cheek before the slaps returned. The pain was excruciating for half a second before dropping to a pleasurable point. He knew how to take her to the edge and keep her there.

As she was reaching her limit, she felt His cock rubbing her pussy. She must have drifted off again because she hadn’t been aware of Him pulling down His pants. Immediately her hips met His rhythm. Pleasure consumed her and tingles spread from her spine down her arms and to the calloused tips of her nipples.

He pulled out, and the smacks on her ass continued. She gasped at the loss of fullness. When she felt Him move behind her again, her pussy gushed in anticipation. When He positioned his cock at her ass, she stiffened and moaned but did her best to relax. Each thrust of His hips felt like a sharp stab followed by a soothing stroke. Within seconds, her pussy was throbbing and an orgasm barrelling toward her like a speeding car.

“Daddy, please!” she screamed.

“No!” He pulled out of her ass and stepped back.

Sensation flooded her as the pending orgasm dissipated. “God dammit!” she huffed.

His hand grabbed a fistful of her hair. “What was that?” There was an edge to His voice that put her in fight-or-flight mode. She took a deep breath, grounding herself in the tugging sensation at the nape of her neck.

“Sorry, Sir,” she breathed.

“Good girl.” He slapped her face softly.

Without warning, His cock was pushing into her ass and the orgasm began to build again. She knew He wasn’t going to let her cum so she focused her mind on the rhythm of His strokes and let the sensations flow through her entire body. Really, she realized, He was doing her a favor when He denied her orgasm. But soon enough she was screaming for release. Again and again He denied her. It was only a matter of time before her body would take over.

He thrust in deep and held himself there and she felt His cock spasm with the first wave of His orgasm. That did it. She shuddered and moaned, cumming with Him. His hands smoothed over her ass and hips, skimming up her back as they both caught their breath.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said weakly. “I couldn’t help it.”

He chuckled and kissed her shoulder. “My good girl.”

*true story.



‪Let me tell you a story about a Sadistic Dom and his masochist kitty….‬

I stood in the shed, topless and ready for Him to tie me.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“Yes, Daddy.”

The new Manila rope smelled faintly like paint. As he wrapped it around my chest, it was cool and somewhat smooth, but stiff and unyielding against my skin. (The fact that He used this instead of the nylon probably should have been a clue that this was going to be more S & M than we’ve ever done.) But despite the fact that it’s not my favorite thing to be tied in, He likes tying me in it. And into a place of sweet reverie I go.

The chest harness takes a little while. I watch His hands for a bit, and then just drift in and out. The music playing is soothing with pulsing drum & bass lines. (Another reason I wasn’t anticipating the pain.)

When the chest harness is done, I remind Him to set a timer. (This is important in rope play! Bottoms, never be afraid to speak up and remind your Top to do it. It’s easy to forget in the heat of the moment! You’ll both be safer for it!)

He had me sit on the stool, and He began a single column on my wrist. I don’t know why I expected that to be it… but when He bent my arm and began tying a futomomo, I couldn’t help gasping. My mind was brought sharply to the present. And He made sure every tug of the rope kept me there.

When He finished with my right arm, He instructed me to spin on the stool to give Him access to my other arm. I did as He asked, and again He tied a futomomo on my left arm. It was at this point, I came down with the nervous rambling. I tried to tell Him the rope was going the wrong way (spoiler alert: it wasn’t). I think I was nervous because I knew at this point that this would be more than a peaceful rope scene.

“Are you sure about that?” He smirked.

As the rope slid over my shoulder and neck, I saw the ties were indeed identical.

Sheepishly I looked up at Him and whispered, “Sorry, Daddy.”

In hindsight, the look on His face should have been the first clue that I needed to shut my mouth.

At this point, He pulled me to my feet, and began to tie the ends from my chest harness, and both arm ties to the hook in the ceiling above my head. I had my hair in my face, and since He wasn’t finished tying yet, I thought I should voice my opinion on that because, um, bottoms should communicate.

“Daddy, the rope is in my face. Can you tie it behind my head?”

Ya’ll… You could have heard a pin drop – even with the music playing.

“That’s not what I was going for, so…”

I bowed my head, knowing I should stop talking, but did not have the ability to do so apparently.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I just didn’t want the rope in my face.” I felt Him move around me.

“And what if I want the rope in your face?” He said in a cool tone as He wrapped the manilla rope around my face and head.

I sagged in the ropes, feeling both embarrassed for the word vomit and my poor topping from the bottom, and aroused that I was sufficiently put in my place. I really have no other way to describe it. He removed the ropes from my face, and secured the lines all above my head.

It wasn’t long before the impact began. This time, there was less focus on my ass, and more on my back and tits. The breast torture was particularly painful this time, seeing as they had been bound for quite a bit already, and were extremely sensitive. At this point though, I couldn’t really tell you what happened. He hit me with the rice spoon on my back, warming me up. Then He did the same to my breasts. It was not pleasurable. This was not a sensual pleasure scene. It was at this point, that my mind actually registered this. And things were escalating quickly. I was beyond the point of soft moans and gasps. I was whimpering and squealing, and before long, actual screams were coming out of my throat. I think He even turned up the music a few notches.

The scene continued to escalate. He was brutal and unapologetic. This is the sadistic side to my Daddy. This is a side of Him that lurks just below the surface. It calls to the masochist in me. I take His lashes and the pain He gives me, and I transform it into pleasure for Him. Sometimes, when I open my eyes, I look into His, and I can see the Sadist. There is almost no trace of my Daddy, and only a glimpse of my Sir… This side of my man is not to be fucked with and cannot be reasoned with. His desires are dark, but they mirror my own.

Eventually, He released my ties. He cuddled me in the arm chair, giving me His body weight and warmth. He fucked me and used me thoroughly. I am grateful that I can trust Him to push me to my limits, and then care for me afterwards. I can’t really express how it feels to have someone KNOW exactly what you need and want, because it’s what they want too.

To date, this is the most pain He has given me in one scene. And the evening wasn’t even over at that point. But here are some enjoyable photos of our rope evening.



String Single Tail and Fire Play… BDSM Scenes Part 1

I keep meaning to go back and write scene descriptions… so that’s what today is going to be…


The day we went to our Fireplay 101 class, we also had a play party that evening. The first scene of the evening had my wrists cuffed and chained above my head. I was wearing only my thong and my dress was pulled down to my hips. Sir began warming me up, and then began using the string single tail.

When I am on the other side of that thing, it’s like an out of body experience. The first lick usually doesn’t surprise me. It’s the only one I’m ever really prepared for, because He has usually just kissed me and walked away behind me. After that, the intensity and strength behind the swings vary, but are impossible to predict. The way Sir uses the single tail is not like most. Not every strike is the *crack* type. I think that’s one reason why it’s one of my favorite things that Sir likes to do to keep His skills up.

Just imagine… you’re restrained, can’t move your body because if you do, the tail isn’t going to land where He’s aiming which means one or both of you could get hurt. You feel a light flick on your upper back and think “ahhh this isn’t so bad”. Then there’s a loud *crack* and you jump, but there’s no pain. In your mind, you turn your head to glare at Him. He smirks back, coiling his arm back for another strike. You face forward again and wait… It comes in a stronger flick than before, but not unbearable.

Then a few more light licks before *crack!* and your vision goes red. In the same moment, your body tenses, reaching up to the chains holding your hands, pulling yourself onto your tiptoes while pulling your body away from the pain. Your head falls back as the pain finally begins to radiate outward and turn to tendrils of pleasure spreading over your skin, warming you. Your body relaxes and you return to flatfoot. Your shoulders drop and your hands relinquish their white-knuckle grip on the chains. You lift your head enough to take a full breath. You’ve barely exhaled when the next *crack* comes.

That last paragraph is maybe 15 seconds for me. It is delicious pain. On my pain scale, this gets to the limit pretty fast, unlike a flogging or paddling.

9/22 Fire – The First Time

That same night, Sir wanted to put his new fireplay skills to work. Now the thing about fire is, it scares the shit out of me. Fire has always been beautiful to watch, but not to touch. Burns terrify me. Despite all that, I trust Sir implicitly – obviously with my life. So I’m more than willing to give Him my body for whatever He desires. And I have always been the kind of person to try things at least twice before deciding to like/dislike them. Especially in the kink world. And I’m glad I did.

So I’ve never gotten completely naked at a play party before. But you know, clothing is flammable… so… naked. I climbed onto the massage table and tried to relax. Sir began by caressing me with his hand and holding the torch near my body to warm it. It feels like when you walk past the fire place, except in smaller localized areas. The heat sweeps with the movement. Then He touches the torch with His hand, and presses the hand to my skin. It feels like a hot stone massage, except with skin instead of stones. And I LOVE Sir’s hands, so to feel them when they’re HOT and then the rough but firmness of His touch, is just heaven.

Now comes the fun part… He keeps one hand on me while He changes torches. Then He begins using the torch on me in small short strokes, followed by His hand soothing away the flame and rubbing alcohol. He does this all over my ass but not my upper back (you don’t want to use fire on open cuts or wounds, and since I was whipped earlier, He avoided that area).

This particular scene had a hiccup though… I don’t know how much time had passed but I became aware of someone standing nearby. I didn’t think much of it, as we were at a play party, and people do watch scenes. But then this woman stepped into my field of view, which is to say, she had to be within 2 feet of my head. I heard Sir speak, but wasn’t sure what He said or what He responded to, but I knew it wasn’t directed at me. He spoke again, and this time I heard Him say “Not right now you don’t.” I was suddenly frightened. I wasn’t sure if we were in trouble, if I’d done something wrong, if there was a problem… I turned my head to look at Sir, and found the comfort I sought. As you can imagine, it’s a little hard to get back to any kind of headspace when interrupted that drastically. So the scene ended shortly thereafter, and unfortunately while it was wonderful, it was not one of those times I was able to float off and enjoy the entire scene.

PSA: NEVER, EVER, INTERRUPT A SCENE. If you are concerned for the bottom, please talk to a DM and let them find a proper time to address the Top in a way that doesn’t put anyone at risk.



I can’t punish you for that…

Since I’ve asked for accountability & structure, Sir has been doing just that. We created a morning routine, bedtime, check in times… all really great things & I love Him even more for giving me what I need and want, despite the additional work it means for Him.

One thing that’s come up is the use of my phone during the work day. It’s distracting and it doesn’t help me be productive. So He watches my social media. And calls me on it.

Last night, after a smoke sesh, I was waiting and knew I had a spanking coming. So I sat on my new floor cushion (read: pet bed) and thought about the reason for my impending discipline.

I have a wonderful job, working with caring and empathic individuals. As I go through a separation and divorce I know that I will require time off, and I know that my brain will not always cooperate with my being productive at work. And with those things in mind, why am I a) on social media when I should be working and therefore b) disrespecting the people that support me like family. I can do better.

Just as I lift my head to look at Sir, He says, “I can’t punish you for this. Because I do the same thing.” That hit me like a ton of bricks. It reminded me that Sir is human. And it is comforting that He will not expect something of me that He wouldn’t do Himself (and that goes for more than phone use).

I respect His choice to talk to me about it instead of giving me a disciplinary spanking.

Shortly thereafter, He grabbed a fist full of my hair and dragged me to the bed – putting me in the position He wanted: head & chest down, ass up and out.

He then proceeded to give me the most erotic spanking of my life. It made me a pile of girl goo. Soft slaps to my ass, then a few hard ones… caressing my pussy through my thong… His strong hands pushing my shoulders into the mattress… it was utterly delicious.

Thank you, Sir. 😘



Our First Public Scene 9.15.18

*Since I didn’t finish this post immediately after the event, many details remain foggy. Note to Self: Finish your blog closer to the time of the scene instead of days later.

He held me for a moment. Kissed me softly and motioned for me to climb up onto the spanking bench. It took me a minute or two to get settled. He pulled my dress up to the middle of my back and I spread my knees further apart.

“Good girl,” He said, caressing my back and ass.

It took me some time to figure out what to do with my arms since they weren’t restrained. Eventually I found a position that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. He rubbed my ass and began spanking me.

The pleasure was immediate. The hits started coming harder. The pleasure morphed into pain and I began to drift. I don’t recall much of this first part.

I tried to remain conscious of sensation when He switched to the new flail. The tails whooshed against me, softly at first but increasing in intensity. The flail is considerably longer than a regular flogger – more sting with each stroke. Somewhere in my mind, the only thought that gets through is that He is standing further away, but not as far away as when He used the single tail. That is somehow comforting.

He reads my body seemingly effortlessly, though I know it does require effort on His part. He stays alert and attentive to me at all times. Just when my body is reaching a breaking point, He pauses to caress me. He moves around so that I can see Him – though my eyes cannot focus on Him very long. I know what I must look like – drunk on pain, lust, and pleasure.

He switches to the cane next. Each stroke stings, adding to the warmth radiating from my ass. I vaguely recall (not sure if it was at this moment or not though) His hands caressing my pussy through my thong, pulling it between my lips and sort of framing my clit. I remember wondering if He was going to finger fuck me right here. I was conflicted – wanting to cum so badly but shy (hah!) about the sheer number of people present at the event.

Though, let’s be honest… I had no idea who was watching. I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Though, the exhibitionist wanted to peek out and see… I remained in the moment with Sir. Everyone else was irrelevant as the cane came down over and over on my right ass cheek. We had discussed blindfolding me for this scene so that I wouldn’t be focused on people watching us, but due to the location of the bench we were using, I decided I didn’t need that. And afterwards, I found that I very much liked being able to open my hazy eyes and look at Him, as opposed to taking off a blindfold. (Next time…lol).

The cane strokes became more intense. Every few strokes I was up on my hands and arching my back to try to get my ass away from the cane. He waited patiently each time for me to come back to position. As the cane fell again and again, the intensity threatened to boil over. I was close to screaming and wriggling – which I knew wouldn’t be the best idea as I wasn’t tethered to the bench.

As usual, Sir could sense that I was nearing the end of my control. He gave a few more strokes with the cane before gently touching the marks He left on my skin. He helped me off the bench and into His arms, holding me tightly against Him. I felt cared for and safe.

It hurt to sit down, but I watched Him clean up the station before coming back to hold me. The way His focus was on me was intoxicating. No one has ever looked at me the way He does. I’m glad it’s Him.