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 》》


It started out with a kiss…

He held her throat as He kissed her. Not really kissing even, He was blatantly making out with her face. He controlled everything. He held her lips between His teeth and His hand was wrapped around her throat. She sank into His grip, unable to maintain the strength needed to remain upright.

“Whose filthy little whore are you?” He relaxed His grip on her throat only enough for her to speak.

She gasped in a breath, her voice coming out in a whisper. “I’m Your filthy little whore.”

“Yes, you are.” He said, a smile in His voice.

She jerked her head to look down. His cock was the longest and hardest she’d ever seen it. She licked her lips.

“You wanna suck it before you go to sleep? Yes, you do,” He crooned.

She nodded sleepily, eyes heavy but hot with desire, and moved to take Him in her mouth.

He held her head up by her throat and looked into her eyes. Then He spit on her face and growled, “You filthy little whore.”

He didn’t wait before pushing her head down to His cock. She opened her mouth and moaned at the taste of Him on her tongue. But the rest of her mouth was dry and she couldn’t make enough spit. Desperate, she shoved herself down on His cock.

“Yes,” He hissed, “That’s a good girl.”

He held still, allowing His cock to fill her mouth and throat. She finally gagged. She lifted her head and spit on His cock. She felt His surprise and His arousal intensify.

“Yes,” He groaned. He tightened His fist in her hair, and used her face to jack His cock. She relaxed her neck and allowed Him to control the speed and depth. Seconds passed by as she fully surrendered to Him, while simultaneously feeling the most powerful energy she’d ever experienced.

He moved her head faster, and as she tightened her lips around His cock, she felt the first pulses of His orgasm. She mewled her appreciation as He released her hair and relaxed His body, sinking back into the chair.

“Holy fuck,” He finally said, panting still. “I haven’t cum that fast from jacking myself off. That was the hottest, sexiest, nastiest blow job I’ve ever had.”

She couldn’t stop smiling. What greater compliment could a filthy little whore ask for?

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.

Sub Drop #2

No matter how excellent your communication skills are, sometimes you have miscommunications. And sometimes mistakes happen. One thing that is paramount to me as a submissive and as a bottom, is remembering that the Top/D-type is human.

Here’s an example…

Me: please, Sir, may I cum?!

Him: yes

Me:*super long orgasm*

Me: thank you, Sir


Him: I think you forgot a thank you in there.

Me: no, Sir. One long orgasm.

Him: oh baby! I’m sorry.


Him: just cuz you like it.

Me: *cums again*

So He slapped me for something I didn’t do. And He immediately apologized. But in that *pause* we shared a moment. We had a whole conversation without words.

It was okay. I knew it was an honest mistake. They happen! They happen even with the best communication and the best connections. Z and I read each other extremely well. 98% of the time.

We live this 24/7. So mistakes/miscommunications happen. But we deal with them immediately and keep on fucking. Literally.

Keep an open mind. Remember you and your partner make mistakes sometimes and this lifestyle is never without risk.


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.