Never ever try this at home!
Foot Torture at the beach.
PLEASE follow me (Sir X) on kinkship.net for the future.
Cosimo Galluzzi

oozey mess
Stranger Things

Kiana Khansmith

JBB: An Artblog!

JVL
NASA
One Nice Bug Per Day

@theartofmadeline
Peter Solarz

shark vs the universe
Game of Thrones Daily
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Sade Olutola
h
will byers stan first human second
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
almost home
KIROKAZE

★
seen from Netherlands

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from France

seen from Netherlands
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Iraq
seen from Italy
seen from India
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Japan

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Puerto Rico

seen from United States
seen from France

seen from United States

seen from Brazil
seen from Brazil
@brown-eyed-sub
Never ever try this at home!
Foot Torture at the beach.
PLEASE follow me (Sir X) on kinkship.net for the future.
who else is taking a big sip of
My Significant Other Is Amazing And Im So Lucky to Have Them In My Life juice on this fine tuesday
WIFE
Submission
There are things I need. I need the rules. I need the structure. Sometimes I desperately need the pain. I need the pride in his eyes like I need the blood in my veins. I need to kneel at his feet and know that I want him to do whatever he needs. I need to know he’s present. I need to be his safe place. His release. I need to feel his desire. His need for me. I need to crawl if he wishes and be the one who makes him forget the world. I need to be in his arms at night and I need to be…. His. I need his decisions. I need his confidence. I need his passion. I need his anger and I need his joy. I need to feel wanted and I need to be loved. I need to be a priority. I need to give to him every single part of myself. But I need him to earn it.
Earn it; Be the man she needs and she will be the woman you want
Ominous positivity
You will be okay. You have no choice.
as a nonbinary person I shall only be posting my left titty which is my boy titty, and not the right one which is the horrid unclean girl titty, this is as tumblr has decreed
none binary with left titty
hello world
I’m proud to say I put a dildo in my ass for the first time tonight
Hashira suspension with Nelly beautiffully suffering
On Catharsis
Catharsis:
I’m a masochist in a relationship with a Sadist, so to say pain brings release is rather redundant, but I’ll say it regardless. Pain brings me release.
One particular way that I can share that may differ is that @1-sadistic-lover often notices when I’m in desperate need of it, but too far gone in my downward spiral to ask like an adult. In these cases, he gives me some of my best release by giving my primal self pain and not relenting.
When he does this, he begins with me free of restraints, glaring but obedient — until the second or third hard strike. Then I often jump up and growl or glare and he just fixes me with That Look™️ and firmly says one word
“Submit”
Generally I stand firm and then relent and get back into position, but at the next strike, I roll over, growl, cuss, kick, etc.
He sits on me and rains down blows on my ass while I’m kicking, repeating :
“Submit Kitten. Let it go.
Submit. Submit to me.
Feel it. Let yourself feel it. Submit.”
Until I’m finally all jelly bones and muffled sobs. As soon as I’ve stopped fighting, the impact stops and Sir gathers me up, helping me cry it all out. Rubbing my back and saying “That’s right. Let it out. Let it out.”
That. That is my greatest catharsis. As somebody who self shames greatly, for tears and anxiety and struggle, being pushed into release is the greatest gift.
💠Kitten💠
One of my guy friends told me to “swallow like a good girl” today in a joking manner because I wasn’t feeling my post-work out hydration. I hit sub mode basically immediately, so that’s how affection-starved I am rn
18 Signs That He's the (Dominant) Man For You
It’s been a long and dusty road, but it’s finally happened! You’ve met a great guy who - dare I say it out loud? - could possibly be The One™. But how do you know? Compatibility doesn’t exactly come with a banner in the sky, so most of us have to rely on gut instinct; we know the type of man we’re looking for, and we’re confident we’ll know him when we meet him. But it’s hard enough to find a compatible man in general, add to that a D/s or kink twist and things get extra tricky.
So, how do you know if he’s the dominant man for you?
1. You Can Be Yourself
You don’t have to be ‘on’ all the time. He embraces your weirdo habits and quirks, and he understands that sometimes a girl’s just gotta.
With a twist: You know you’re a reflection of him at all times, but part of why he loves you is, well, you! Your personality is not stifled, and though a certain degree of decorum might be called for (time and place, yo), he loves you just the way you are.
2. You Can Tell Him Anything
You don’t have to govern your thoughts or words with him. You can tell him anything that crosses your mind and you don’t feel judged.
With a twist: There might be times when you’re not allowed to speak, and broaching certain subjects could require a degree of reverence or ceremony (e.g., ‘Sir, may I speak to you regarding an issue?’). But the bottom line is he has your best interests in mind and will always want to hear the real you.
3. He Knows You
He knows your favorite color and how you take your coffee, that you hate cilantro and how you got that scar on your lip when you were six. You interest him, and he pays attention to the little things because the little things are what make you you.
With a twist: He’s taken the time to know the vanilla you, so you know you can trust him with your more vulnerable and deviant sides, as well. Even if you’re uncertain where things are headed, you know you can sit back and trust his direction.
4. He Listens
He doesn’t simply wait for his turn to talk, he listens to you. No false starts or interruptions, no glazed-over eyes staring past your head. He’s listening and you know it.
With a twist: The decision might ultimately be his, but you’ve found a man who actually hears you. Regardless of what he decides, you know in your bones that your thoughts and feelings are on the table and he’s taking them seriously.
5. You feel safe
He’s not going to hurt you and you know it all the way to your core.
With a twist: Sometimes he’s actually going to hurt you, but you’ve entered into this part of the relationship willing and wanting. And even though the pain - however that looks in your relationship - could be extreme, you know in your heart he’s not going to damage you.
6. You Don’t Worry About His Feelings For You
You just don’t. ‘Does he like me as much as I like him?’ and ‘He hasn’t texted all day, what does that mean?’ are questions from the ghost of dating past. This guy is as into you as you are him, and you know it. How do you know it? You just do. (Plus, he tells and shows you all the time, so there’s that.)
With a twist: Some dominant men strive to create an air of mystery around their feelings for you (”Gotta keep her on her toes…’), but this guy knows the best relationships - vanilla or kinky - are transparent.
7. You Enjoy Each Other’s Company
You enjoy spending time with him, both exciting times and downtime. Whether parasailing over the Caribbean or fighting for couch space during a Homeland marathon, you just like hanging with the guy.
With a twist: You like the same things and are on the same page when it comes to both your vanilla and D/s-related activities and desires. You have fun together no matter what you’re doing.
8. He Makes Things Happen
He takes care of his business and himself. He has a plan and he follows through to enrich his - and potentially your - life. He doesn’t sit back and wait for life to happen, he goes out and grabs it with both hands.
With a twist: He may simply serve as a consultant, or he might have full domain over your decisions and everyday life. But this is a guy who gets things done, and when you open yourself to his guidance he helps facilitate amazing and positive things.
9. The Sex is Good
Sex is giving, gratifying, and you’re excited to be together. You look forward to learning each other’s bodies and sex is never dull.
With a twist: Your kinks are his kinks (for the most part, anyway), and everything is okay! You know each other’s boundaries and are respectful of limits soft and hard. You know the sexual and power exchange world is vast, and you’re excited by all the territory there is to explore.
(Oh, and he goes down on you. A lot. Because it’s a very dominant thing to do and he knows that.)
10. Your Friends and Family Like Him
This isn’t necessarily a requirement, but these are people who likely know you well. If they’re happy with your pairing, the objective view is you two are a good fit.
With a twist: No one needs to know the details of your power exchange dynamic - or that it even exists. They might see nothing more than a confident respectful man - and a girl who loves and cares for him in a somewhat doting manner.
11. You Feel Good About Yourself When You’re Together
You’re happy and confident, and he makes you feel good about yourself. You’ve experienced people - exes and friends alike - who have dragged you down, but he is not that kind of man. He makes you truly believe you’re good.
With a twist: He encourages your confidence and feelings of self-worth. He knows that what you believe about yourself is your reality, what you will become. He wants nothing but the best for your psyche and morale, and his words and actions enhance your well-being.
12. He Includes You in His Life
He has his own hobbies and friends, but he includes you - often. You’re his person and he lets you, and everyone, know this in myriad ways. You’re in this together, and it shows.
With a twist: You’re not kept in a box; your relationship isn’t compartmentalized. You’re not an ornament that’s brought out only for play; you are part of each other’s lives - the pretty and the gritty.
13. He Respects You
You have a job or career, hobbies, and friends of your own. He embraces and encourages your autonomy, the things aside from him that make you who you are.
With a twist: In a D/s dynamic ‘self’ can be lost; he knows you’re an individual who is ultimately responsible for your own life, regardless of what you’ve agreed upon behind closed doors.
14. You Want to Live With Him
You’re a grown-ass woman and your roommate days are long behind you; but you really, really want to live with him. Damp towels on the floor? Oh, but what a small price to pay for waking up next to that man every day! And really, you spend practically every night together anyway, so…
With a twist: He wants to live with you too, and he understands and truly believes that you are an equal partner. While he’s the boss of whatever you agree upon, he knows that this is both your home and you’re building a life together.
15. He Keeps His Word
He says what he means and he means what he says. Promises are never broken because this is a man who would never promise something he can’t deliver. His word is gospel.
With a twist: There is no twist. A dominant man is a man of his word. Full stop.
16. He Fights Fair
Everything can’t always be rosy, but your guy keeps his shit together and knows how to use his words. He might need some alone time to decompress or work out what he wants to say, but he’ll always let you know where things stand and what he needs to move forward in a healthy and respectful manner.
With a twist: This man doesn’t power-trip when you’re having a disagreement. He doesn’t play little boy mind games (e.g., silent treatment, isolation) or pull the ‘I AM YOUR D-TYPE MASTER DADDY, DO AS I SAY’ card simply because he’s angry or upset.
17. He Makes You Laugh Your Face Off
He’s funny as shit (and finds you hilarious)! Life ain’t always a zany affair, but when you laugh together, you laugh hard.
With a twist: Everything isn’t doom and gloom, even during your darkest and most deviant shenanigans. You might be fully encased in black latex with a barbed plug in your ass, but laughing while kneeling or smiling through tears will always have a place in your repertoire.
18. You’re Happy
Life is good! Bottom line? Your world is brighter with him in it.
With a twist: Whether dancing in the light of day or descending the depths of depravity, this man makes you happy. You do not feel you have to endure the darkness to fully enjoy the light; all of it makes you joyful.
As a Dominant
I’m not going to discipline you by spanking you - you might enjoy that too much, and that would defeat the purpose.
I’m not going to hit you - because violence only builds negative emotional connotations, lowers trust, and hurts communication.
I’m not going to yell at you, or even raise my voice - because I need you to feel safe enough to confide in me; I need you to trust me enough to be vulnerable.
No, I’m going to talk to you. I’m going to discuss what’s happened, and together we’ll find a better way to address your behavior (or mine). I’m going to be patient because great leaders care more about finding solutions, than they do about being right, or appearing strong.
I dread the cane.
I dread the sting, the snap, the intensity of the pain that echos through my entire body. Every other tool is His arsenal is wider, covers more ground, allows the pain to spread out and radiate. It’s easier to bear.
But the cane is thin, focalized, takes my breath away.
I adore the cane.
I adore the look in His eyes when the wood connects with my skin and I scream. I love the soft groan of pleasure when my knees bend slightly and my head pushes against the bed in an effort to process the sensation.
The cane is thin, focalized, takes my breath away.
The point I’m trying to make is this: @herdramaticsir does not make me do things I hate.
I have limits.
For example, I hate being tickled. I truly hate it. It isn’t pleasurable pain–it’s like getting a spliter in your toe or falling down a flight of stairs. It sucks. It’s a hard limit. So He doesn’t tickle me.
There are things in our D/s dynamic that I am not ecstatic about–full transparency. When He brings the cane out, I flinch. My eyes go wide. I recoil slightly.
“Please, Sir, no. Nnnnnooooooo…..”
“Are you redding out, R?”
“No, Sir.” Not a moment of hesitation.
Of course I’m not.
I’m not using my safeword to halt the situation because I’m not actively fearful or feeling unsafe or insecure. I’m not wanting the scene to stop. The cane is not a limit. The cane is a tool that stretches me, pushes me, and that isn’t always pleasant. But the joy I receive from His pleasure, from the look in His eyes and His praise and the submissive that become under His instruction? That is the euphoria for me.
If I was actually, truly in a situation that concerned me or made me legitimately uncomfortable, I would use my safeword and that would be the end. T would snap that cane across His leg in a heartbeat rather than put me in a situation where I would genuinely be miserable.
Yes, there are things that He and I do that are not the average Joe’s idea of fun. Being held down in a tub while I struggle and fight to breathe? In the moment, it’s frightening, yes, but that adrenaline and that euphoria linger. It’s wonderful. It’s bliss.
It’s hard to describe.
But I’m doing my best.
(inspired by an amazing conversation with @danipup, @wing-ed-creature, @itsnotstrangeatall, and a few other super smart human beings)
I’ve been exploring the ideas of the pleasure in the frightening things, too. Sir observed recently that what I need is “physical danger wrapped in emotional safety”. I know, and I have always known, that I need emotional safety. That isn’t a mystery to me. But what does that mean?
I need to know I’m loved
I need to know I’m cherished
I need to know I’ll be cared for
I need to know I’m appreciated
I need to know I’m being listened to and heard
I need to know that my faults don’t make me unlovable or undesirable
I need to be able to express my emotions without feeling stifled or ridiculed
I need to know that the person I’m trusting can also trust me in return
I need to know what to expect from my partner, and if I don’t understand something I need to know I can ask about it
I need to know I can talk about my valid concerns & my irrational fears
I need to know that I can be silly sometimes without being looked down on
I need to know my efforts are appreciated
I need to know that it’s okay to have insecurities and need reassurance sometimes
… that’s not too much to ask, is it? *wry*
And I realize… looking at all of that, and considering the topics that Sir and I have covered recently… that I need all of that list and more before I can truly feel safe to embrace the danger in some of what I want, physically. I never realized that before, because I’ve never had the safety. I always thought I was just too sensitive and afraid of too much (I don’t watch horror or creepy things), so the more extreme things were counted as desire/fear and put away.
The problem was that the danger is too tempting, the thrill is a siren’s call… and I was afraid I would lose myself in it and truly get hurt. I needed someone who would be my protector and my safe place, literally. What I really needed was to be able to give all of my emotion to someone who would protect it and not think I was Too Much, someone who would do all of the things I need in order to feel safe, without even being asked (and more besides that I never even thought of), before I could feel like I would be protected enough that I could risk the physical danger.
He will protect me. He will keep me safe. I have no doubt.
Physical danger wrapped in emotional safety.
Fuck, I love that so much.
Subs are so fun to play with. All you have to do is hint at what you might do, or back them into a corner with a look, or grab their wrist in a certain way and they’re a wide-eyed mess.
Stripping the Mask
Today was a rough one for me for some reason. I couldn’t really put a finger on it. By all appearances, I should be overjoyed. I’m just finishing up a 2-week vacation, I’m relatively healthy, I got to visit some family and friends, see some sights, spend time in nature. No, there’s definitely no excuse for this melancholic, on-the-verge-of-tears mood I’ve had most of the day.
When my Master messaged me for an afternoon check-in, I struggled to explain myself. Finally, I think, three possible explanations arose, and realistically, it is very possibly a combination of the three that has me in this funk.
First is the ever-evil lack of sleep. I’ve spent the last two weeks sleeping somewhere besides my own bed, in a variety of conditions, and despite the fact that I’m on “vacation”, I simply haven’t slept well. Strike One.
Next, my routine, normally fairly rigid, has been quite disrupted. My Master thankfully (at my request) has maintained some level of structure during my vacation despite the fact that I’m on a vacation with vanilla family members, but that structure has admittedly been less than our normal protocols and routines. Which I miss. A lot. Strike Two.
Add to all that the stress of the masks we wear, masks hiding our deepest fears, thoughts, emotions. A mask I’ve learned to remove with my Master, now forcibly worn for two straight weeks, without any real reprieve. Strike Three.
My emotional well-being has struck out…
I had forgotten what an effort it is, how taxing to wear those masks, day in, and day out. The drain of having to hide my true self, playing different roles… the perfect daughter, the perfect employee, the perfect student, the best friend, the great mentor… roles that don’t fully encompass who I am, or allow me to make my inevitable mistakes.
Then, I realized not only was I tired of the masks I had worn for two solid weeks, but I was dreading the oppressive weight of wearing all the different masks that wait for me at home. Granted, I have some reprieve there, in my time with my Master, when I’m at home, etc. But nonetheless, it too was contributing to my waves of lacrymosity.
Master, ever vigilant, was quick to identify the issue. And although the source wasn’t completely clear (He saw the truth before I did), He was able to work toward a solution, nonetheless. First came instructions. He was at work, His time there is extremely limited. Simply having some structure to follow relaxed me a bit. More than I realized it would. Later, His time. Spending time together, writing together, enjoying one another in a way that we typically have… there was normalcy to that, my mask was off, I was able to just be. I relished it.
I’m thankful for days like today, days when perhaps I’m not fully myself or one hundred percent. Not because I enjoy feeling that way, but because sometimes, having that kind of time with my Master is a good reminder. D/s isn’t about kinky sex or about just the “good” times. It’s about working through rough patches together, helping and supporting one another, no matter what.
I’m incredibly thankful for my Master, who is, at all times, patient with me, an ever-present encouragement. The structure He gives me has allowed me to thrive where before I could merely wallow. Oh and the kinky sex is fun too!
© reflectedtruthsblog 2018
I wrote in my post yesterday morning that I’ve been dealing with a major CPTSD attack since Tuesday night. @herdramaticsir has done His best to make sure that I am taken care of in the wake of that particular trigger. I don’t want to go into details but let’s just say it was one of the worst ones I’ve had in months.
Last night, T and I had a meta talk regarding an upcoming scene we’re planning with another person and what we wanted that to look like. I started feeling really off–not about the scene itself, but about my fears of making everyone involved happy. I stood up mid-talk and said that I was going to go upstairs and take a shower.
T caught me gently in His arms. “Don’t run from Me, baby.”
“I’m not running, I just don’t want to make You upset. I just want to give You space, if You want it…”
“I don’t want space from you unless that’s something you are saying you need. Do you want to be alone?”
I shook my head. I knew if I started talking, I would start crying and I had been fighting tears since Tuesday and I really did not want to start crying again.
“Do you want to be alone? What do you need, love?”
“I don’t know,” I managed. “I hate this. I’m so tired, my head is so loud, I can’t think, I hate this. I just…T, I just don’t want to think right now.”
“Come with Me, little mouse. Upstairs, right now. Come on.”
He guided me up the stairs, presumably to take a shower with me. I started to turn on the landing toward the bathroom, but He gently moved my shoulders and guided me toward our bedroom. Once inside, He shut the door and picked up one of my corsets and a pair of black lace panties off the top of my dresser.
He gently helped me get dressed, unlacing and relacing, pulling the panties over my thighs and making sure everything was lined up and neat. The entire process was unusual–I am never ever dressed during our scenes. He had been completely naked when we went upstairs, but in the process He had somehow found and put on a pair of jeans.
“Kneel in the center of the bed, R.”
I complied, barely able to meet His eyes. Normally every instruction is met with a “yes, Sir,” but I didn’t speak. I had no idea what was going on, and I was more nervous than I’ve ever been with Him.
He fitting my wide posture training collar around my neck and fastened it before lifting my chin gently. “You will not take your eyes off Mine while I am speaking. You will not speak until I am done speaking. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” My voice didn’t even sound like my own.
“You told me downstairs that you don’t want to think. You’ve been maxed out, stressed and triggered for days. You need a release. You told Me the other day you needed a beating and it never happened because of how busy things got. That’s going to change. I am not going to remove My clothing for this entire scene. This scene is not about Me fucking you. This scene is about your pain, your release, you. This is all about you. Unless you safeword out, I am not going to stop until you are crying. Do you understand Me?”
“Yes, Sir.” I could feel my heart starting to beat faster. This was the first time in a scene with Him I actually felt scared–not of Him, but of the fact that I knew that He was not going to stop until I broke, and breaking is one of the most terrifying concepts to me. My strength is something that kept me alive in my past abusive relationship. If I broke, if he saw me crack, things got worse for me.
T covered my eyes with a blindfold before guiding me to the dresser and bending me over, my hands flat on the wooden top. He took a moment to rehearse each word in our color code, reminding me what each one meant and that was never to lie to Him, that I should not feel ashamed if I needed a break or even to stop.
“What color are you, R?”
“Green.”
“Good. We’ll start slow.”
He started with the heavy flogger. I could tell by the heft and the way it felt against the back of my legs. He started gradually, working over my entire body from shoulders to calves and back up again. His hand was gentle but firm. I stayed controlled, barely even whimpering with each of the strokes.
He checked in again. “What color?”
“Green.”
He switched it then to the whippier flogger, the one I hate. These blows were harder, harsher. I wasn’t able to keep back audible cries of pain this time. This session seemed to take forever until one particular strike brought me to my knees.
“Up. Move.” He guided me to the bed, bending me at the waist. “Legs straight, R. Stay right there.”
The flogger continued, badgering my aching calves until I was crying out in earnest. One particularly painful blow broke my training resolve, and my hand flew to cover my ass. He moved my hand and struck my ass with His hand–hard.
“Lay down in the middle of the bed, R. Face down. Don’t move.”
The cane came out this time. These blows were agony, red-hot through my entire body as He worked my aching calves.
This is when things start to blur slightly. He switched impliments back and forth, cane to paddle to flogger to cane again. He flipped me over onto my back and pushed my legs open. The paddle connected with my inner thighs over and over again until I was screaming. Always brief pauses, always asking the color. Sometimes yellow, sometimes green. Always adjusting to make sure that things were as they should be, keeping the scene safe and tender while never letting up on my body.
Still no tears.
He brought the paddle down on my pussy, repeatedly, and then the cane rubbing and smacking against my labia. The panties were still in place but their lace offered limited protection. Then suddenly there was a buzzing near my ear and my entire body electrified as He pushed a vibrator (much smaller Hitachi knock-off) against my clit. He worked my pussy over and over again until I was begging to cum.
“Please, please, can I cum?”
“No.”
“Wait…WHAT?” I broke for a moment there.
“I said no. You’re not cumming yet. Not until I’m sure you’re not going to hold back from Me.”
Suddenly, the thick round head of the vibrator was shoved up inside me. The head was directly on my g-spot and I thought I was going to pass out…just as He pressed a smaller far more powerful vibe directly against my exposed clitoris.
I felt my body shudder, I opened my mouth but no sound came out.
“Cum. Now. But do not fucking stop cumming. You are not going to stop until I say you can stop. Cum. NOW.”
I felt something inside me break. My body shuddered again. It was out of body. I have never cum like that before. I could hear His voice, far away: “good girl, baby. Holy fuck, yes, let go, just like that. Ohhhh yes, baby…..good girl, good girl, don’t stop, good girl…”
The pleasure didn’t stop. It kept coming in waves and wave and waves and wave until I thought I was going to drown.
CRACK. I don’t know what caused the blow, what tool He used, but it connected with my ass and thighs so hard I thought I was going to fly out of my own skin. It hurt like fire but added to the pleasure-agony blazing from between my legs.
And then I was crying, bawling, shaking and sobbing with tears soaking my face and down my neck and I was against His chest and everything was off and out and He was stripping me out of my clothes and I was laying in His arms while He brushed my hair out of my face and whispering soft encouragements to me.
“Stay here for just a minute, baby. Just rest. I’ll be right back.” He covered me with a blanket and disappeared for a moment, I really don’t know how long.
And then He was half carrying, half guiding me into the bathroom. He lifted me into the bathtub full of warm water and let me soak. He washed my hair, using a cup to pour water over my head, then my body.
“You squirted,” He said softly. “Four times. I’m so proud of you.”
I blushed and focused on trailing my fingers through the soap on my legs. “I don’t do that. You know that.”
“False. Statement.” He chuckled as He caressed my cheek. “You absoutely do, and that’s now My new goal-to make you squirt as much as possible.” He kissed my forehead. “God, you’re amazing.”
We spent the rest of the evening watching TV as He brought me water and food. I was in the deepest subspace that I’ve ever experienced. When we finally went to bed, I curled up against Him and fell asleep. I slept all night long without a single nightmare or waking moment until the alarm went off this morning.
The release was draining. I’m still feeling the effects in the best possible way. I feel lighter, tender but more open. No more lockdown, no more mental shut down.
He didn’t fix me. That’s not even what He was trying to do. He accomplished His goal by chipping away at that trauma concrete coating.
I can breathe again.