The Second Session Part 2 :: By Kay

Don't forget to read Part 1!

He pulled out various things and this is where my memory goes slightly fuzzy. I do know that the first thing he used was a small bundle of wooden rods, running the ends along my skin, the rough, sandpaper-y feel itching just slightly. He ran the smooth, rounded sides over my waist, my stomach, before lifting it and slapping it down gently over my skin, the smoothness combining now with a slight stinging sensation. He slapped it across my breasts, my crotch, causing my body to jerk slightly, causing me to shiver. He pulled out a few other things, the order of which I do not remember. I do know that he used a long piece of satin that, as soon as he pulled it out, the first thing he did was wrap it around my face, smothering me momentarily, surprising me, before dragging it down, tugging it gently around my neck before trailing it down along the rest of my body. There was another implement, a small hammer-type thing that had five delicate pins in it. He tapped it along my skin. There is really no way to describe that. I mean, it was sharp, pointy things hitting my body repeatedly. I’m sure he could have hit harder, but I believe it was more about the actual feel of cool metal and the gentle sting, and not an intense pain, focusing more on the sensual experience. If you tap a needle over your skin, you won’t really feel the same thing. Actually you’ll feel more of what I felt the first day he tried it on me as he introduced me to the various objects. It’s pretty much nothing. However, after being whipped and having all manner of other things of your body, it begins to have a bit of a…kick…to it, if you will.

And then the frontal flogging.

It began. He started full force. At least I believe he did. It sure felt like it. And at twenty-five, or around there, he again began the double flogging. I do know that by about fifteen, my voice was barely audible, my lips barely able to form words as I cried steadily, my body writhing beneath the whip. A part of me wanted to cry out the safe-word. But I knew it wasn’t because the pain was unbearable. The pain was fine, it was the disappointment, the humiliation that came with being punished, naked and throbbing on a table as I had to count each stroke, knowing when it would end, yet still feeling like there were an infinite amount of strokes to come. He promised that he would always give a number, believing it unfair, the pain too much for the submissive to handle if she didn’t know the number, the feeling of infinity multiplied considerably.

By the time he finished I was sobbing nearly uncontrollably, my body shaking against the restraints. He lay on me, embracing me, comforting me before he removed the blindfold, allowing me to wipe my nose, my eyes, helping me calm down.

It took a moment, but I soon relaxed, feeling almost like a child as he released me from the table. He removed my cuffs, asking me if I wished to try to achieve orgasm this session. I told him that I did wish it and I was allowed to stand from the table and make my way to the giant vibrator that they have. I honestly don’t remember its name and I am not sure I really want to as the thing was rather frightening in many respects of the word and I believe its name would only serve to give me nightmares. He had attachments for it, internal and external. While the external merely vibrated, the internal ones rotated around so as to press into the g-spot, the beloved and nearly unidentifiable part of the female anatomy. This vibrator is so powerful, mind you that it is measured in horsepower. It is a giant lump of a thing that you straddle. And if the Master is in an extremely devious mood, it is something that you can be bound to, unable to wriggle from the vibrating sensation pulsating against your clit. *shivers*

I have mentioned before that while in subspace, you are only supposed to think of the here and now, the past and the future do not exist. But I found that as I walked towards the vibrator, naked and shivering, subspace began to disappear, thought returned almost as quickly as it had left and I found myself terrified of it, terrified of the sensations, the feelings that the damn thing could cause to rise up in me and before I knew it I was sobbing. And my Master clutched me to him and I cried, telling him I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t make thought disappear when it came to this, that I couldn’t explain why but I was suddenly entering the realm of thought and no matter how much he held me, no matter how much he reassured me, the moments without thought were only temporary, the calm moments lasting shorter and shorter spans of time. And he could tell when I was thinking again because my body would go rigid and I would just be a girl, standing naked in his arms.

And I hated it. And I hated myself. And I tried to explain to him that I wasn’t strong enough to sit on that vibrator, to have him watch me orgasm. It was too weird, too mortifying a concept and I wasn’t strong enough to handle it. And he explained to me that he was there to help me bear burdens, to be strong enough for me when I couldn’t be strong enough on my own. But I just couldn’t bring myself to face that vibrator and it sounds so silly and so stupid, but I mean I have reservations about using handheld vibrators, so with something a thousand times that size, you can pretty much guess that my inhibitions were increased drastically, were brought up in intensity.

I feel this calls for a bit of honesty on my part. I have masturbated very few times. I do not enjoy it. In fact the concept of touching myself rather frightens me for reasons I cannot even begin to explain and to be perfectly honest I would rather have someone else’s hands on me or none at all than to have to pleasure myself. I have used the small ‘bullet’ vibrator that I own on two separate occasions. I have never been brought to climax, by myself or anyone else, so you can see my fears about climbing on a giant vibrator in front of my Master and trying for God knows how long to achieve something I don’t even know if I am physically capable of.

He wanted me to get on the thing, to just try, to push myself over that limit, but I couldn’t. And that is when he came to the conclusion that I had let my sexuality, my ability to orgasm, become a hard limit.

You can see the problem with orgasms being a hard limit. By a rule, he should really not be forcing it, but I am sure you see the necessity to force the issue. He said that he could whip me again, press me back into subspace to make the transition easier, but it was too late and I found myself murmuring ‘No’ over and over again into his chest as tears ran down my cheeks and he decided it was time to call the session quits.

And so we entered the Cool Down time. He asked if I wished to add orgasming to the list of things to work on in his dungeon and I told him I was not comfortable with that idea. So my homework is to become more familiar with my anatomy, to figure out where and how I like to be touched and to try and find the few things that turn me on the quickest, the things that make me wet with little or no thought. I told him I would almost be willing to go through life without ever orgasming, just sitting with a dull ache and a slight moisture and absorbing what little pleasure I could from that without ever doing anything about it. For his dungeon however, the inability to orgasm is not something that is generally accepted.

He is giving me a week to work on it. If after the week, I need more time, he will grant me one more week, after which time, we will begin work on things in the dungeon to get me to that point.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I was predicting a blissfully ignorant life of fake orgasms and I was perfectly content to survive that way. Sex has never been a huge thing for me. While I love and appreciate nudity, lying naked in a lover’s arms, the sexual act has never been of importance to me. Maybe it is because some part of me is terrified to orgasm, maybe it is because of the few times I was sexually abused by people I cared about. I don’t really know. I know people who were raped and didn’t lose their sexuality. I find I just may be a very nonsexual being. I’ve seen it on television. It seems a perfectly acceptable lifestyle to me but to the rest of the world, it is some manner of blasphemy.

I started this venture thinking that this side of me was associated with my sexuality, would reveal to me why I hadn’t been able to orgasm under normal circumstances. Now I believe this side of me still isn’t connected with my sexuality and I still haven’t found the side of me that is.

At any rate, the basement suddenly felt extremely cold as I came out of my zone and I realized that I had a point when I could tell if I was in or out of subspace.

In subspace, the room was my dungeon, an infinite room of all manner of devices to bring me pain and pleasure, things I wouldn’t imagine in my wildest dreams. Out of subspace, it is nothing more than a dingy basement with a table and some shelves and a few nifty looking implements that, under normal circumstances, I would pick up and play with for the hell of it because they just look FUN.

Stop by next Sunday for a (much shorter, I promise) piece on Kay's situation with collars. Til then, don't forget to stop by her blog for full, unedited posts, and much more at A Life Beneath.

Giving You Something Sweet to Suck On: An Experiment

I love food. Really, I do.
And we all know I love sex.
(Even though sometimes I tend to love food more than sex...)

So, today, lets talk about food, and lets talk about sex.
Let's talk about aphrodisiacs.

An aphrodisiac is any food, drink, herb, or whatever digestible item you please, that is said to boost the libido or "get you in the mood".

Let start with a quick list. These are the most popular.

Asparagus
Oysters
Avocado
Chocolate
Pomegranate
Sweet Potato
Chili Powder/Cayenne Pepper
Basil Bananas
Figs
Garlic (woot!)
Strawberries


**Educational Note: The supposedly super sexifying liquid called "Spanish Fly" is not a good thing to go for. The store bought kind you get is really just chili powder and sugar water. Actual Spanish Fly is a mixture made from a certain kind of ground up beetle, and it is LETHAL. The idea behind it was once that these beetles released a kind of toxin that, when urinated later on, irritated the urethra, sometimes causing a tingling sensation or stimulation in the surrounding area. But this shit is deadly, so don't waste your money on the crap at the store, and don't waste your health on the real shit.**


Now, it's been debated back and forth whether or not aphrodisiac foods actually work, so instead of telling you they do, I decided to conduct an experiment.

Let's try them out.

It's obvious that just downing a shitload of mashed sweet potatoes isn't going to make me feel like a sex goddess, so lets take them a few of them one by one and see what we can do.

Twice a week over the next two weeks (starting next week) I'm going to head to the store and grab one of these foods. That day I'll take it home, find a recipe for it, set a sexy mood around the house, and see if eating a meal focused on that food gets me a little more in the mood than usual.
In my post I'll explain the food, it's tastes and uses, along with the recipes I used, and how the night went afterward.

Sound boring? Not for me. :-D And I'll do my best to make it worth your while.


Like the idea of mixing dinner with pleasure? Then tune in later on in mid-october for a post focused on just that! "Eating In While Eating Out" (entitled by Bell), is my next food-based project, so make sure to come back next month!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Don't forget to send me you're Sexy Post-Its! Read the rules HERE and send them to me ASAP at SinSekret at Gmail dot Com for you're chance to win some nifty prizes!!

Here's another one of the awesome entries I've gotten! (I decided to keep them anonymous, for when voting time comes along.)

Keep 'em coming!!!

The Second Session Part 1 :: By Kay

Part 3 of Submission By Kay

The strap of my bag pressed against my over-sensitized chest is a delicious reminder of the events that occurred in the dungeon.

Let me just say, from the start, I was terrified. But he didn’t punish me for not remembering my lessons because he did not specifically give me the assignment of remembering my positions. For that understanding, I was very grateful.

Of course I don’t remember the exact conversation, because as soon as I step into that dungeon, I begin to head off into subspace, but this is the gist of it:

“You’re uncomfortable being naked, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

"Then we’re going to get you naked.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

Of course I was shaking. I went with the easiest things first, the things he had already seen off, my shirt and my bra. I folded them neatly and handed them to him. My jeans went next, a part that was rather easier than I thought it would be. But as I clutched the elastic of my underwear, my hands were practically shaking. And still I took them off and handed them over.

A new position came up: Standing at attention, hands clasped on elbows, head up, eyes staring straight ahead, feet shoulder width apart.

The first lesson of the day: Rope Bondage. He used multiple pieces of rope, the first to tie my arms securely behind my back, my hands clutching my elbows. No matter how hard I wiggled, I was unable to move. Next, a rope around my breasts, squeezing them tightly, partially blocking circulation, just enough to make them more sensitive, not enough to cut off circulation entirely and make them numb. I’m not quite sure how many ropes there were total, I just know that the rope also crossed over my stomach and tied around my neck. And finally, one ran between my legs, pressing against my clit, riding into my ass like a thong. I’m not quite a fan of things dealing with my ass and well, stuff being in it, but since the rope was completely between my legs, I found it surprisingly erotic.

All the pieces of rope were connected together in some intricate pattern so that if I moved any part of my body with a rope around it, it would tug on the rest of the ropes, causing them to tug at whatever zones they were attached to. So basically, I couldn’t move. However, my Master could tug on a piece of rope and instantly cause my head to arch back as the rope rode up between my legs.

And so, all tied up, I now had to get back in the submissive position. Let me just say it was very difficult as it required a lot of maneuvering and thus a lot of things riding up where the sun don’t shine. And every rope definitely tugged at the places it was supposed to tug.

He whipped me slightly with the horse-hair whip, nothing more than a gentle stinging really and one I rather enjoyed.

He introduced me to gags, the pacifier, the ring gag, and the ball gag each of which I will explain as they are used. The first was the pacifier, a small rubbery thing that really did look like a giant pacifier. It strapped into my mouth and I was able to roll my tongue around it or bite down on it as I pleased. It wasn’t very long, maybe an inch or two, but it was rather wide, my mouth open rather largely around it. It was rather fun to suck on, but then again I do have a pretty bad oral fixation.

It was then that he introduced me to the Violet Wand (named because of the giant violet light bulb at the end), a.k.a. shock play. He started out on a low setting, the feeling nothing more than static electricity, you know that fun tickly sensation, the kind I got a huge kick out of as a kid. The wand is not supposed to touch the skin. If it does, you hear nothing but a very loud buzzing, and you get no shock whatsoever, neither of which is very fun. He switched the attachment to a five-pronged thing that looked rather like a rake except, well, stubbier and glowing bright orange (I have never seen a glowing rake. If you have, send me a picture!). It had the same concept as the large bulb, except that it was able to hit a wider radius and well, five separate spots at once. That one gave me a pretty row of five circular marks but they faded in less than a day. The attachment was then switched to something called The Bell. He explained to me that it wasn’t very bell-shaped but the sparks that it made could very well appear to be a bell. This he said, was specifically made for the breasts and of course he paid very much attention to them.

He finished after the brief introductions to the various settings and attachments over various parts of my body and had me stand up. As I was so extremely tied up that I could not stand easily, he helped me up. And guess which rope he chose to tug. He yanked at the rope secured around my waist, tugging rather firmly on the one positioned between my legs, so my neck arched back as I rose from the ground, my eyes clenching shut before I had to spread my legs and stand at attention once again. It was now time for the fun of rope bondage to come to an end. The first he untied was, of course, the one between my legs. Apparently it is always the last tied on and the first removed so that you spend the least amount of time with the most pleasurable part of the experience.

I loved the feel of the rope running over my skin. It was almost like fingers caressing it, except not as soft or as gentle. I would have expected it to give me, well, rope burn, but it didn’t. It felt surprisingly silky, in fact.

He got a kick out of the fact that I enjoyed the removal as much as the wearing of the rope.

Then came another form of bondage, suspension. He taught me how to put on my own handcuffs. A good submissive should always know how to cuff herself. This way, the Master can work on the ankle cuffs at the same time and it cuts down on the time spent cuffing. He does, however, have to be the one to choose where to finally set the strap so that it is neither too tight or too loose. It is an art to get it just right. Too tight and it could cut off circulation, too loose and you can move. It also has to have just enough leeway so that when you are hooked to something and it tightens a little more, it does not tighten to the point that it does actually begin to cut off circulation.

Next was the introduction to the actual area where I would be suspended. He has a giant tire in the middle of the room with hooks around the outside to attach the ankles to. From the ceiling there hung more hooks which the handcuffs would be connected to. I had to straddle the tire, my feet spread about as far as they could go to stretch across the entire thing. My hands were connected to the ceiling. I was certainly not tall enough to reach from the tire to the ceiling so he attached bars to the hooks to close the distance. Apparently short people can consider themselves lucky. While being whipped, average or tall people can only clamp their hands around the ceiling hooks, which are rather hard to really latch on to. Short people can wrap our hands around the bars and cling on tight.

He told me to think of something I felt bad for, something I should be punished for from the past week. I thought hard, but I couldn’t really think of anything, so I mentioned the fact that I hadn’t bought the books for my classes yet. He asked how many classes. I told him five and instantly he started adding numbers together. Five classes=five strokes. Say two books for each class, multiply two by five=ten strokes. I let down five teachers=five strokes. I let myself down five times=five strokes. Add them all together=twenty-five strokes. My body felt like the wind should have been knocked out of me, but it wasn’t, strangely enough. I feel that if I hadn’t been in subspace, it may have been, but because I was in that zone, the pain level was completely different, as were the bodily reactions. I felt myself already beginning to cry, but strangely not because it hurt. I mean it did hurt. It hurt like a bitch. But that’s not why I was crying. I couldn’t even begin to understand why I was crying. I just was. With the next five, he introduced a new form of whipping, using two whips that hit a total of four times, as he crisscrossed them over my body. However, each set of four only counts as one hit. Hooooly Shit. Two hits fall together and right after, the other two hits fall. It takes a very skilled master and very even whips to get them to fall at the exact same time.

By the end I was sobbing, my body wanting to collapse, but unable to as I remained strung from the ceiling. My Master wrapped his arms around me and told me not to be afraid of tears in his dungeon and he unhooked me and allowed me to cry until I calmed down and he led me to the table for the next round of training.

This part was my favorite, as in fact, he had predicted it would be. I am a huge fan of sensation play, i.e. my obsession with knife play and wax play- subforms of sensation play. Sensation play is just like it sounds, working with how various things feel against the skin, not necessarily painful. He blindfolded me, stating that it would be best not to know what is coming next, to only know the material through the feel of it along my skin. I was cuffed to the table,

this time laying on my back, my head positioned so that I would be staring at the ceiling if the blindfold

weren’t there.

My Master put on his leather gloves, running his hands up and down my body, squeezing my breasts, pressing his palm against my crotch, never touching the actual clit, merely putting pressure on it. A part of me felt embarrassed because I was already starting to feel wet and the more he played, the wetter I got and with my legs spread, I’m certain he could tell.

To be continued...

clone it

Two Wonderful Entries and A Cute Giggle

[20:32] Sin: so, you sent the pics to the wrong email address, but haven't bothered to resend it to the right address?

[20:32] Kay: nuh-uh
[20:32] Kay: thats the address you gave tardo
[20:32] Sin: sinsekret@gmail.com?
[20:32] Kay: i think so...i just copied and pasted from your blog
[20:32] Sin: well it's not there
[20:33] Kay: ugh
[20:33] Sin: oh
[20:33] Sin: never mind
[20:33] Sin: hahahahahahahaha
[20:33] Sin: you're spam
[20:35] Sin:
[20:35] Kay: haha
[20:35] Kay: wow
[20:36] Sin: spam spam spam
[20:36] Sin:
[20:36] Kay: shut up XD
[20:37] Sin: I always knew you were trash...
[20:37] Kay: you are such a whore XD
[20:37] Sin: >.< Just a random and odd conversation between Kay and I. And two of the wonderful Post-it submissions ^-^ The first, up at the top, is from my wonderful reader, D Man, and the second is from lovely Kay herself.

I'm being lazy again, and I'm sorry, but please don't forget to stop by Sunday for Kay's guest post, and don't forget to send me your Post-Its!!!

Some Sexy Post-Its Contest!!!

Note Contest Details

Okay. I'm a little nervous, I've never done a contest before. But here goes.

Idea: I'm looking for Sexy "Post-it" notes.
Use a Note Generator (like this one, or this one), a Sharpie marker and post-it, a camera, or photo shop to write a simple, sexy, sentence on a Post-It Note. It can be cute, sexy, erotic, witty, funny, dirty, whatever! It can be true or fiction, and could even include a little image!
It can be as long as you want, technically, as long as it fits on one post-it.

Yet another example from me over here, so you get a taste of what I mean.

I've already gotten three submissions, and I hope to get lots lots more before the week is up.

Rules:
*No more than two entries per person.
* Send all submissions to me at SinSekret@gmail.com
*Make sure to include the following information
- Name (doesn't have to be your real name, but I need to call you something)
- E-mail address ( or however i can contact you)
- Permission for me to use your image on Sin's Secret posts, etc.
- Any requests from you (If you'd like me to keep your name or submission off of the site and out of the interwebs eyes, let me know)

Entries must be in by Saturday, September 27th. That's a lot of time, so I expect to get lots of entries!

Judging:
I haven't yet decided on how entries will be judged. I'm thinking I'll post up all the entries in a post, have readers vote on which they like the best, and if it's my favorite as well, it'll get first place. If it's not, the most popular entry will get second place, and my personal favorite will get first.
If anyone prefers it a different way, let me know.

Prizes:
I'm still debating a prize. I don't know how so many sex bloggers manage to get sex toy companies to give them prizes to send out, but if anyone else knows, let me in on the secret!
Either way, this is what I'm thinking I'll go out and get and send out (but I'm open to suggestions):

First Prize:
Choice of:
A best-selling book of erotica (being that this is a writing based contest, i thought it seemed fitting)
~~or~~
A mini sex kit (i.e.: BDSM kit might contain handcuffs, blindfold, warming oil, Basic kit might contain condoms, flavored lubricant, mini-vibrator, Massage kit might contain mini bottles of massage oil, candles, or oils, ETC. Kit type would depend on the content of your entry.)
Second Prize:
A small book of erotica
~~or~~
A bag of sex-inspired candies. (You know those penis candy necklaces and boob lollipops? Yeah, a bunch of those.)

Prizes will eventually have to be sent by mail, so be prepared to send me a mailing address (only if you win).

Prizes are up for debate and ideas. Let me know if you have any better suggestions.


That's all for now! Start sending those Post-Its and let me know if you have any questions!!!

<3
~Sin

My First Lesson :: by Kay

Dear reader, I'd like to mention that this piece is not edited very much at all. It's been edited and shortened just a bit, but I decided not to edit much of this part because of how much information and terminology it contains. I think this is a greatly erotic and educational part, so I decided it would be better to leave it whole, offering you as much as possible. It is a good post though, so please do enjoy.

~Sin

My First Lesson

Part Two of the Submission by Kay series.

My first lesson started rather unexpectedly. After we’d discussed various manners of items on the shelves and he tested my reaction to various levels of whips and sharp implements, he decided it was time to show me the positions.

There are six basic positions that all reputable dominants use. They are all numbered and named, but I am going to be completely honest and say that the only one that I remember right now is the first position, the submissive position. I remember the names of all the others and how to do them, but I won’t know if he gives me a numbered command and that honestly scares the hell out of me.

What I do know is that the first position is on your knees, bottom seated on your feet, head turned down so that you are looking at your Master/Mistresses knees if they are standing right in front of you. Dominants vary as to where they want the hands positioned. Some say hands clasped behind the back. My Master believes this to be a position that is far too relaxed so he has me clasp my hands behind my neck. Oh and I almost forgot, my knees have to be separated, spread slightly to keep my crotch open- a vulnerability thing I believe. And of course, my posture has to be perfect; neat and erect.

The other positions, in no particular order (as I have said I do not remember the order) are present your breasts, present your crotch, present your ass, present your mouth, and present your back.

Present your breasts is a fun one. I kind of rather like that one. You get down as if you were going into submissive position, except knees are clamped together, feet are crossed at the ankles and your bottom is not resting on your feet. You stick your chest out as far as you can, placing your breasts on display for your Master/Mistresses review and of course for various activities and possible nipple clamping. For this one he has me keep my hands on my neck…I think…Oh shit.

Present your crotch is not one I am particularly fond of, nor is it one that I remember very well. So as soon as I relearn it, I will explain what it is and I will probably tell you the punishment that I end up receiving for not remembering my lessons.

Present your ass is when you get down on your knees. Clasp your fingers together and lay your palms on the floor. Rest your head on your hands so that you are unable to see your Master/Mistress unless they walk within your limited area of peripheral vision and stick your ass out as far into the air as you can. I don’t really like my ass so this position may not end up very high on my list of favorite things to do during lessons.

Present your mouth is another one I don’t remember. Shit. Shit. Shit. I believe I need to research on the internet. What I do know is that you open your mouth as wide as you can…vertically, never horizontally, to show off what a pretty mouth you have and to allow your Dominant to place a gag in your mouth. I do know that it requires the same hand position as present your ass…at least I think it does. Ok well I know you have to keep your eyes shut.

Present your back is very similar to present your ass. Hands clasped, head on hands. Your knees, however, are pressed all the way up so that they touch your hands and your back is arched as nicely in the air as you are able to get it. As I have scoliosis, I do not believe my Master will be using this position very often. Actually that’s a bit of a shame, as I love things being done to my back and I know that would be a good receiving position.

Then came wax play. He told me to stand and remove my shirt and my bra. I was hesitant, but I did as I was told, learning a new lesson in the process: Always take care of your clothes. I was to fold them neatly and hand them to him. Oh and of course my eyes were downcast. You are not to look at your Master unless you have permission and trust me, that is very rare permission to receive.

He cuffed my ankles and wrists to the table. He also allowed me to wear a heavy collar, a cool, large, metal ring clamped tightly around my neck. (And you must always thank your Master when they collar you. It is a very high privilege.)

We moved up three more levels I believe. I actually kind of lost count after a while. Subspace is intense. (Subspace is the area of your head you go into to be able to deal with that kind of pain and take it as pleasure. You lose yourself in your mind, concentrating not on what happened, or on what will happen, but what is happening at that exact moment, nothing more.) So each layer burned worse, even though there was already a nice coat of wax on my back by the time he got to the hottest. Mind you, the ‘beginner’ candle came after two of his own and it still burned. But he was proud of me for making it to that level and he allowed me to move up one more step. Which is where I finally said the ‘safe word.’

(For those of you who don’t know, it is absolutely necessary to have a ‘safe word’ in a relationship of this nature so that if your pain threshold is pushed too far, you can call things to a stop before it reaches a dangerous level. Never use the word ‘stop’, as it is a word people will naturally say when in pain and do not always mean. ‘Red’ is usually used to mean that the pain has become too much and you want that level to stop, but you do not want the activity to cease altogether.)

He clutched me and said “You are safe.” At this point, mind you, I was panting slightly and I had to calm down a bit because the pain had reached that slightly unbearable level.

He knew I liked knife play and he was planning to remove the wax with a knife, but as I had said the ‘safe word’ he asked if I still wanted him to. Of course I did. It felt amazing, feeling the cool blade on my back after the heat of the wax. I wanted to shiver, but at the same time I was just so…warm.

We fell into a silence as he worked, his hands working in tandem with the blade to ease the wax off my back. In all honesty, it felt like I’d just gotten a massage, the heat having eased all the tension from my body. Not to mention the fact that I felt like I was in this Zen-like mode, all thoughts gone, barely hearing the dull hum of the water heater nearby.

When he finished with the knife, he ran a scrubber over my back. It felt like sandpaper across my sensitive back but it felt so good, in a way I couldn’t even begin to explain. Who knew something that felt like sandpaper could cause my body to ache with a certain hunger.

Wow, thinking on it, I know he did a few more things, but I really cannot remember the order he went in. I do know that he ran a wheeled, jagged blade over my back and it felt like a constant knife over my skin, sharp against the sensitive heat he had already created. (Mind you, he had run that blade across my skin before in the introductory phase, and it felt no worse than a cat scratch. It was amazing how much it was intensified by the heat.) He also blew across my back, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise, my body wishing to arch against the bondage as I whimpered softly. I remember my eye lids fluttering shut, the feel like a cool breeze after an excruciatingly hot day.

And then he whipped me with his middle intensity whip. Ten strokes and I had to count them out loud and thank him after each one. I winced as the leather hit my back, realizing that I did wish to thank him for being so kind to me, for allowing me to feel the things I wanted to feel and some things I didn’t even know I wanted to feel until he fulfilled the silent requests for me.

I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my life. And yet I’ve never felt so safe.

When we finished, we had Cool Down time, a necessary part of any good Dom/Sub relationship. It is a time to bring the submissive back from subspace, to ease their mind back into the world, out of their heads, their place of such intense vulnerability.

He wrapped me in a blanket and led me upstairs. At this point, my friend joined us again and we all cuddled on the couch, my friend wrapped tightly around me, purring in my ear, nuzzling against my side, both of them making sure I felt safe. Just safe. And eventually my mind did ease back into the real world, to coherent thoughts and time slipped by so quickly. I’d been in subspace for nearly two hours and Cool Down time was about that long, but each felt like nothing more than ten minutes. Which makes me wonder what time really is.

Continued next week with The Second Session...

Don't forget to check out Kay's full blog: A Life Beneath.

Related Posts: Beginning a Journey, Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones but Whips and Chains Excite Me

The Sparking of Ideas....

I'll try to make this short and sweet.

I'm really tired of taking pictures off of search engines for my posts.
So here's what I want.

I want YOU. (I want you so bad..^-^...)

I want you to send me pictures! Whether it's photos, computer generated stick figures, or sketches of naked girls and guys from the edges of your notes (when I get a scanner, you'll see mine), I want them all.

See that picture right here? That's mine. Not off Google or any search engine, but mine. Yay me.
That's the kind of stuff I want. Not too much nudity, not too much un-cut sex, but stuff thats sexy, creative, and awesome. Genre based stuff (fetish, posing, etc) is awesome as well.

I'm thinking I could make a contest out of this, and that'd be really awesome, but I can't do shit if no one sends me anything, so I figured I'd start off by begging.

Please send me stuff!!

You know what else would be awesome? Writing.

This, I think, will become a contest, and I'll post details soon, but let me give you an idea of what I'm thinking.

Have any of you ever used this Digital Post-It Note Generator? I just re-discovered it today, and I just love it's random useless awesomeness.
So I want to use it. And I want you all to use it with me.

In any format from the Generator, write a short (really short) bit of erotica. Really, it's not going to be more than a sentence, maybe two, because Post-Its are small (duh). Write up something short, smart, and sexy, and email the image to me ASAP. It could even be a tiny bit of a poem, or even a haiku ^-^

If you don't want to use the Generator, you're welcome to be creative and do it your own way, as long as it's still a short, sexy sentence on a Post-It Note. Whether that means you using photo-shop or paint, or just writing it up on a real Post-It and scanning it, or even drawing/painting a picture of a post-it with your sentence on it and scanning that to me, whatever floats your boat.


I'll post more with details later, especially about the writing thing. But get your ideas flowing and, if you want to just do it, go ahead and email me at sinsekret@gmail.com.

Oh, and I want to mention this now, before I completely forget again.

PhoneGirl, author of the wonderful A Phone Sex Life, has an interview/survey on her blog about Phone Sex, and a while back I took the time to fill it out, just for the hell of it. She recently posted it up, and if you'd like to see it drop by there to learn about me and my sexual fetishes I encourage you to go :) She has a great page, you should see it.
She also did a very flattering review of Sin's Secret a little while after that, which was lovely of her ^-^

<3
Sin


Edit:: I'd also like to mention, that if you want to actually write your sentence on an actual Post-it and actually mail it to me, I'd love it as well. It'd be awesome to put these up on my wall. So, if you don't have a scanner, don't want to use a generator, and wants to mail me their actual Post-it, email me for an address to send it to. <3

Beginning a Journey :: by Kay

**Editor's Note:: I think it's important to mention that Kay has not always been in the "BDSM" culture or lifestyle. While we have often discussed and debated about the sexual elements since we met, it is something she has sort of fallen into. Every person interested in BDSM has started, lived, and continued or stopped participated in their activities for different reasons. Sometimes it's an innate longing, sometimes curiosity, force, etc. There is no right way, there are no (or very few) wrong ways, and as Bell said so wonderfully, everyone is unique and beautiful and they're meant to be that way.

Anyway. Here is post #1, and from now on I'll post one from her every Sunday afternoon. Enjoy! <3>

Intro, Of Sorts
by Kay
Part One of the Submission by Kay series.

Here is what I know:

For the longest time I was a cutter. In a very loose sense of the word. I never broke the skin. There was just something about dragging the sharp edge of something along my bare flesh that filled a part of me. My physical pain, I found, had the ability to match my emotional pain. I had concrete evidence that I was, indeed, hurting. But it was evidence only for myself. I had scratches on my body, sure, but they were in places that I could easily cover with clothing. No one else could know. Unless I wanted them to. And a part of me wanted them to make the effort to discover those scratches, but no one ever did. So my outlet was temporary because after a while, the fact that no one ever noticed began to cause me more pain.

I began to tell people. And then I realized that I was having to defend my status as a “cutter.” I didn’t break skin. My injuries meant nothing. While self-inflicted, they meant nothing compared to the many people who drew blood. Who made scars. I was never one for blood.

But I kept doing it, kept dragging sharp edges across the skin, my tears stopping as I felt a jagged edge dragged across my thigh.

And then one day it just went too far. I won’t get into the details because I’m sure you’d rather not know them. Personally, I’d rather not know them but it’s something I’m forced to live with.

At any rate, I tried rather unsuccessfully to slit my wrist with a razor but I chickened out when the skin broke. It stung too much. So instead I downed a bottle of pills, then ran down the hall to get help.

And suddenly people cared. People wanted to know why.

And that was when I stopped knowing why.

I went to a therapist. And even now, almost two years later, I’m still seeing the same woman. And I’ve still barely scratched the surface of my problems. Pun intended.

A few weeks ago I moved in to my new place.

I had a huge fight with my parents the day I was slated to move out and it ended with me in tears, practically hyperventilating as I sped down the road, my car loaded with all manner of boxes.

My roommate invited her friend over that night. We started talking about sex, as my friends and I are very open about our sex lives and our preferences in the bedroom (in fact, the few that know about this endeavor of mine are very supportive of it!).

I don’t know how the subject came up, I mean specifically…I know how it eventually came up, knowing my friends the way I do. At any rate, I mentioned at some point that I enjoy knife play. Which, at that point in time was a lie. Not a complete lie. I rather did like the idea of knife play. I’d just never…played…before.

Let’s just say the night got better as the guy pulled his knife out and began to drag it across my skin. I’d never felt anything like it. I mean…I had, obviously as I’d formerly done stuff like it to myself…but it was something completely new now. It felt different to have someone else in control of the blade, to control how long it dragged or where it dragged. And I found it highly, highly erotic.

He dragged it over my nipples, over my stomach, my neck, pressing the cool blade into my skin, leaving beautiful pink scratch marks in its wake, marks that I would begin to feel alarmingly proud of.

He tied my wrists together and I found myself unable to clutch anything, barely able to writhe comfortably as he continued to drag that blade. And it was even more erotic. My body felt hot, the space between my legs aching terribly. Pain had become pleasure.

He came back a couple days later, his manner more forceful, pressing me against walls, slamming my face into the bed, tugging my hair. But the more he did, the more I began to enjoy myself. It was intense. It was insane. And it felt so wrong that it began to feel so right. He gave me more scratch marks and this time, I found them accompanied by nice blue bruises, some of those bruises still visible even now.

I was hooked.

Days later, my roommate took me to a friend’s house. She’d told me a lot about him and his girlfriend and the lifestyle they have. His girlfriend and my roommate are like sisters and she gladly showed me their “dungeon,” a basement with a large table at one end and all manner of suspension gear along the other, not to mention an entire wall lined with shelves covered in any manner of toys and devices necessary for their lifestyle.

Later that night, I got into a discussion with her boyfriend and I found myself practically drooling at the thought of working with them. I asked if he would train me and he readily agreed to, offering to go ahead and take me down to the basement for further discussion, including in depth descriptions of the toys and implements.

Later, there was more.

To be continued...(next Sunday)...

**This is an edited version of Kay's first post on her new blog, A Life Beneath. For the full version (not much is cut out, but there are more posts) you're welcome to visit her blog.

Or just stop by here next Sunday for her next post, "My First Lesson".**

clone it

"Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But Whips and Chains Excite Me"

A Quick Introduction to the World of BDSM

Book of the Day: You Know You Love It : Lessons in Sexual Mischief :: by Ilona Paris

Movie of the Day: Secretary :: Starring Maggie Gyllenhal and James Spader


The world of Sex and Sexuality is a vast and incomprehensibly interesting universe.
Likes, dislikes, fantasies, cultures, subcultures, fetishes, sexual orientations, and preferences, as well as the lack-there-of of all of the above and so so much more, make it one of the most eclectic topics in modern (and historical) culture.

It's not particularly often that I bring up subjects of fetishes, fantasies, or subcultures of sex. They tend to be complicated and take quite a bit of work to explain. But today, I'm taking a stab (haha) at one of my favorite fetishes/subcultures: BDSM.

For starters, BDSM stands for several things, depending on who you're asking. Respectively, it stands for some variation of Bondage and Discipline/Domination and Submission/Sadism and Masochism.

So lets break down the very very basic basics of what these each stand for.
Bondage: Being tied up. That's the down and dirty basic. Bondage as in Bonds. Being tied up, cuffed, roped, whatever.
Discipline: Being spanked. This is ...well...being disciplined.
Domination: Being on top. This is essentially dominating your partner in one way or another, whoever that may be.
Submission: Being on bottom. This is typically submitting to your partner. Enduring pain, bondage, humiliation, and all sorts of strange offenses that normally be horrid.
Sadism: Slapping and enjoying it. Based on the legendary Marquis De Sade, this is gaining pleasure from giving pain (whether that be physical of mental).
Masochism: Being slapped and enjoying it. The opposite of sadism, masochism is gaining pleasure from receiving pain.

Now, these things get a lot more complicated, and are defined and carried out in a million different ways by a million different people. Yes, I said a million. Its really millions. These pleasures are far more common than you think.
Think about it. What turns you on? Nibbling on each others lips? Nails down your back? Little extra roughness during sex?
These little things are little degrees of bondage, masochism, and domination.
There are, of course, many people who those things aren't enough for.

I've always had a quaint fascination with the BDSM world. My particular niche is the idea of being owned. Tied up, collared, punished, and, most of all, taken care of.

I recently bought a pair of fur lined leather wrist cuffs (not hand cuffs; I can't stand fuzzy handcuffs), and I adore them. Coal (my bf, W, in case I haven't mentioned the name change yet) puts them on me every morning, and takes them off every night. I'm only allowed to take them off for work and modeling (and cleaning or showering). It took a while for him to grasp what it was I wanted with all of this, but little by little he's understanding my want (and need) to be taken care of, almost as if I were a pet.

I'm sure it seems odd, but to me, seeing him put on the cuffs makes me feel owned in a way that lets me feel protected, wanted, and loved. Once in a while he bathes me, or dresses me, or other simple tasks, and when he asks me to do something, I do it (9 times out of 10 anyway...).
It isn't like I can't take care of myself (hell, he can barely take care of himself, I'm better at it), it's just this sweet, sensual feeling I get from being taken care of. And occasionally from small levels of inflicted pain.

This is a very simple, very basic form of a Dominance/Submission relationship. I'd like it to grow into more in the future, but right now we're taking little steps.

But there are so many higher, more complicated, more dangerous levels of BDSM. From knife play and hot wax to flogging and whipping, to suspension and chains, to asphyxiation, humiliation, and nipple clamps, to so so so much more. There are so many fetishes, subcultures, and ways to "play" that you'd be hard put to actually name most of them.

In the future I hope to eventually talk more about the culture and subcultures of BDSM, but for now I just wanted to give you this basic introduction, and introduce my new (and first) Guest Writer.

My friend Kay just started taking "classes" in Submission. She just started, but so far her experiences have been interesting, and her appreciation seems genuine. She recently started a Blog to journal her thoughts, sessions, and overall journey in this little area of the sexual world, so I invited her to post some of her writings here in Sin's Secret as a sort of weekly guest entry.

My hope is that this will do several things. One, is give Sin's Secret some more varied content, which I think is important, and a new, outside voice. Two, is give an inside view into something that most people aren't familiar with, so that maybe some of you readers might find something new to learn, create an understanding of, and maybe even try out some time ;-). Three, is to add a bit of spice in here. I know that now and then my posts can be pretty dull, and occasionally talk about some dull topics. This Guest Writer would mean that there'd be something strange, new, and interesting every week or so for readers to follow and enjoy.

So, the next post up will be Kay's initial introduction piece, to start her off.

Until next time!
<3
Sin