THIS MATERIAL MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR THOSE UNDER 18.
So if you are under 18, a right wing republican christian or anyone else who is offended by nudity, vulgarity and/or a wanton disrespect for societal norms, consider yourself warned and leave. Oh and might I add, "If thine eyes offend thee, PLUCK THEM OUT". Just don't complain!


~The more defects a man may have, the older he is, the less lovable, the more resounding his success.~
Marquis de Sade


"Allow me to be frank at the commencement. You will not like me. The gentlemen will be envious and the ladies will be repelled. You will not like me now and you will like me a good deal less as we go on. Ladies, an announcement: I am up for it, all the time. That is not a boast or an opinion, it is bone hard medical fact. I put it round you know. And you will watch me putting it round and sigh for it. Don't. It is a deal of trouble for you and you are better off watching and drawing your conclusions from a distance than you would be if I got my tarse up your petticoats. Gentlemen. Do not despair, I am up for that as well. And the same warning applies. Still your cheesy erections till I have had my say. But later when you shag - and later you will shag, I shall expect it of you and I will know if you have let me down - I wish you to shag with my homuncular image rattling in your gonads. Feel how it was for me, how it is for me and ponder. 'Was that shudder the same shudder he sensed? Did he know something more profound? Or is there some wall of wretchedness that we all batter with our heads at that shining, livelong moment. That is it. That is my prologue, nothing in rhyme, no protestations of modesty, you were not expecting that I hope. " from The Libertine and the bottom of Nic's dark soul.

There is in every madman a misunderstood genius whose idea, shining in his head, frightened people, and for whom delirium was the only solution to the strangulation that life had prepared for him.
~Antonin Artaud

I hurt myself today.....to see if i still feel......I focus on the pain......the only thing thats real......The needle tears a hole.....the old familiar sting........try to kill it all away..........but I remember everything........what have I become, my sweetest friend .........everyone i know, goes away in the end.......and you could have it all, my empire of dirt........I will let you down..........I will make you hurt..........I wear this crown of thorns.....upon my liars chair......full of broken thoughts.........I cannot repair..........beneath the stains of time........the feelings dissapear.......you are someone else..........I am still right here.........What have I become, my sweetest friend..........everyone I know, goes away in the end...........and you could have it all, my empire of dirt..........I will let you down............I will make you hurt...........if I could start again, a million miles away..........I will keep myself..........I would find a way.......NINE INCH NAILS







Sunday, July 03, 2005
Edgeplay and the Knife

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Of all that I do, I love "edge play" most of all. Edge play includes, knife play, breath play, needle play, play rape and anything else that ads the perception of danger/death. NO ONE should play with a partner (Top) who has any potential for doing actual harm (abusive mates and strangers). If done properly it is the ultimate scene, if done wrong it can be harmful and traumatizing. It must always be consensual, and the sub/slave must always be allowed a safe sign or word. The Top (Master/Dom) must respect that sign and word. NO bottom (sub/slave), should ever allow herself to forego those safety measures based on a Tops demand that "There are no safe words, you will play as I wish!" This should be a red flag.

The following is a typical scene as played out by My slave and I. She is bound/tethered; blindfolded but not gagged and tied to a post or St. Andrews cross. The scene is an interrogation; she has been caught by a Latin border guard and is suspected of smuggling and of having information about a major smuggling ring. She is tied to the post hands behind back, legs spread and tethered. I enter, she can hear me but cannot see me and has no idea of my intentions. I begin my interrogation, but she denies all accusations. As she protests I bring a large knife to her throat, she feels the cold steel against her flesh and lets out a gasp. I tell her that "we" know that she has been carrying contraband from the smugglers, but she weeps and denies it.

Slowly I bring the knife down the inside of her dress, cutting edge facing out; her dress tears under the pressure of the blade and she gasps. The dress is parted from her body. The blade is again brought to her throat. Again I accuse and she denies breathing in deeply as my free hand fondles her over her under garments. She begs and denies all; I tell her of the things she can expect if she does not confess, but she refuses to admit her guilt. The knife is again brought down her chest cutting edge out, the point dragging down between her breast until it touches her bra, with little effort the center separates and her breast are exposed, nipples erect. I hesitate for a moment taking the nipple between my forefinger and thumb applying pressure; she winces and lets out a moan; her breathing becomes more excited.

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As she continues to beg the tip of the knife is dragged further down over her stomach, leaving in its wake a thin red welt showing the progress of the blade. It finds her pantywaist and again cuts through it without hesitation, exposing her freshly shaven pussy. Her pussy is swollen, her labia wet she is excited yet terrified. The blade cuts through the panties removing them completely. I place my mouth close to her ear so she can feel the heat of my breath on the side of her neck. I whisper that she is at my mercy and should endeavor to please me and confess. Her face blushes as she tells me there is nothing to confess, that I can see clearly that she is hiding nothing.

As I slide my hand over her breast, stomach and down to her moist opening; I tell her there are other places that she might hide her contraband. The knife drags slowly down, the point leaving its reddened trail over the nipples circling each, lingering pressing against the reddened erect tissue and then continuing yet again, across her belly going down. When I reach her wetness I take the point and drag it around the very wet opening taking care not to cut or damage my prize, I turn the sharp edge out and drag the blades dull edge up between her wet labial lips. She becomes more aroused as her knees weaken and try to come together.

The point is pressed against the inside of her thighs making her separate them once again. I take my free hand and bring my index finger up the same path the blade had just taken; pressing in her pussy opens, very wet and very responsive. I tell her I must do a cavity search. I slide my finger in, but can only feel her wetness as she presses down against my hand. Another finger begins to explore and then a third; soon four of my fingers are glistening with her juices. Her clit is erect rubbing against the free thumb as her excitement mounts. I must go deeper. I press my fingers together and curl my thumb in to the palm and apply pressure as she slowly opens to accept my fist. It enters as she sighs; her moans increase as I begin to bring my hand in and out. Harder and harder, her face reddens as she tries to hold back, she breathes out "please sir, please sir may I cum", but is denied. After a brief period I give her My permission and with a single thrust downward on my hand she screams, "YES, Yes, oh thank you sir!" as her body responds with a full orgasm and ejaculation.

Almost as if she is peeing her sweet fluids run through my fingers, over my palm and down my arm. I step back and look at her weakened wet body, glistening with sweat. Her breathing is heavy but slow. "Thank you sir" echoes over and over again. I bring my wet hand to her mouth so that she may taste her product. I smear the juices over her lips as her mouth opens to suck and lick my fingers. I then kiss her wet lips, bring my mouth to her ear once again and say, "I guess you had nothing to hide after all. Her feet are un-tethered and the ropes removed from her hands. I lift the blind fold to reveal her half closed eyes. She has found sub-space.

I help her to the bed, and lay her across it face down; her round ass exposed. I separate her legs once again; there is no resistance. I separate my belt and drop my pants. I have been waiting for this. I take my sticky fingers and rub them over her still wet pussy and up between her ass. Her rectum tightens and then relaxes. I push gently with my finger, barely penetrating. I use a gel lubricant so as not to tear and press my cock firmly against this tight opening. "There is one last place I must search", I whisper as my cock penetrates her. She presses up against me and the search begins. As I press in and out she again begs to cum, and I refuse her. As I feel myself swelling and about to explode, I agree to allow her that same pleasure. All I can hear is her muffled thanks as she goes deeper into her sub place.

Posted at 08:51 pm by BondageMaster

loz
July 12, 2006   10:45 AM PDT
 
reading this again from a somewhat different perspective reminds me of discussion we had very recently, and also the 20th. I like most that you are who you appear to be even when some of us see you in/as different ways.

l.
x
Leatherargento
July 9, 2006   09:25 PM PDT
 
I agree with all you say about abusive relationships and about all you say about edgeplay. Before I felt my body and my soul were worth anything, before I felt confortable showing it on my blog, I was drugged and deflowered (in a state of unconsciousness) by a deranged man. I denied that a woman with my brains could be raped, and my philosophy around then was that the first man I had sex with should be the only man I ever slept with, so, bang hey presto, relationship.

He pushed me so far, so hard, so long that I knew my exact limits, and that was why I had to leave: I realized that since he took what he wanted when he wanted it and would do anything to get it, and that there was no safeword nor any assurance that his delusional ramblings weren't heartfelt, or, more terrifyingly, a setup for a future insanity defense and a way to keep me from questioning him because "only he knew the Real Truth", that eventually, if I looked at him the wrong way, my pain would go beyond an uncomfortable, barely-enjoyable fuck, beyond forcing me to drink and then keeping me up all night listening to the songs he'd written, beyond bruises and smacks and my neck in the electrical cord, more than the Little Death, and on to the Big One. His knifeplay was perilously close to the Real Thing, and I do not believe the word "Limits" meant a damn thing to him.

He stalked me for years after I abruptly left, taking everything of mine that I could find and leaving the jewelry and clothing that he bought me...

He was my first, and he was so intense I couldn't think the first whole week and a half. The fainting of sexual exhaustion and the waking to find he was still thrusting in and out; the cord around myneck and the petichiae that made themselves into a full-face, freckly love bite... It's hard, when I think of the fact that I must have orgasmed even in a dead faint, to believe that he had that little respect for me, but then I look at the word "dead" and I realize that the faints must have been the most delicious time for him, a time when he could believe that I was, indeed, gone, and he could fuck me anyway...
 

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My Extended Profile


I have been both a Master and Dom in the BDSM lifestyle for 40 years. I am currently in Sin City, (Las Vegas, Nevada), but I have plied my art all over the country and yes, the giving of pain and pleasure is an art.

I started this because I thought there might be an interaction between myself and like minded individuals, but found most willing to look and not speak; for this reason I have eliminated the tag board and your ability to comment (Consider yourself gagged).

My Blog has become a reflective self analysis and has enabled Me to vent. It has reflected on my childhood, BDSM and it has been a place to share poetry, stories, and art; all erotic in their own way

Having written here for over three years, I realized that I wanted this to be the home of My impure thoughts and deeds; I decided to create another home for the menusha that comes to mind. I created Alt-Thinkining for those who have an interest in my political and social side and who might be appauled or offended by My more carnal thoughts (I love My carnal thoughts ).

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Dominant

I am a dominant man. I am just that. I am not dominant because of any superiority on my part. Not because I feel I am more intelligent,or wiser. I do not dominate because of the strength or mass of my body. I am not, nor would I want to be dominant with all women. Yet to you, I am Master.



I am your Master only after earning your trust and and embracing your submissiveness. I have looked into your heart and mind and clearly see your desires and passions. You have thrown away your fears and inhibitions. You tell me of the needs of your heart and body. You have given me total access to your soul, and I accept the responsibility and honor.



You are a woman. You are not weak and inferior because of it. You are a treasure to be cherished. We are not equal. I have the strength of body and mind, and the instinctive need to protect, possess, defend, and provide for you. You are a woman and instinctively stronger of will and heart. Your belief in me gives me courage and direction. Your strength disperses my doubt. Your needs and desires encourage and give purpose to my efforts.



We are not equal. We are halves of a whole. We compliment each other and make each other complete. My desire to dominate you is instinctive. It is not to degrade you nor is it degrading to you because you are secure in being totally feminine. We recognize and accept our worth, and our need for someone to trust and fulfill our needs.



You are sure, strong and proud in your womanhood. You do not submit as acceptance of inferiority, but from strength and passion. You expect a man to stand strong and be a man. You desire and flourish in the strength and control of a man. In return you present the control of your body, unqualified trust and honesty and the faithfulness of your heart.



You submit because I have earned your trust. Because I have opened my heart and soul to you. Because I have listened to your words with my ears and heart and have learned to anticipate your needs and emotions. And because I have proven worthy in your eyes, you have given me the only true treasure of life; You have given me dominance over you.



What you give is not abnormal, but pure, natural and the rarest gift a woman can give a man. You have given me complete and unshakable assurance of your commitment to me. Your submissiveness is a magnificent gift and sacred responsibility. I accept this from you with humility and joy. I understand the rarity and purity of this gift. I recognize it is your body and soul, your heart and mind.

I dominate only because you have allowed me too and when I see you kneel before me, in my mind and heart, you are raised above all other women, and all the treasures on the earth. What you give freely cannot in reality be bought.

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And From a Submissive Woman

I find pleasure, joy, and fulfillment from being submissive to another in a loving relationship. I am not weak, or stupid. I am a strong woman, with firm views and a clear concept of what I want out of my life. I do not serve out of shame or weakness, but out of pride and strength. I look to my loving Master for guidance and protection, for never am I more complete than when he is with me. I know that he will protect my body, my mind, and my soul with his strength and wisdom.

He is everything to me, as I am everything to him. His touch awakens me and his thoughts free me. Only in serving him do I find complete freedom and joy. His punishments are harsh, but I accept them thankfully, knowing that he has my best interests always foremost in his mind. If he desires my body for pleasure, I shall joyfully give it to him, and take pleasure myself from knowing that I have brought him happiness. However, the pleasure of the flesh is but one facet of any relationship. The love, the trust and sharing, the words spoken and felt, those are all parts of this relationship.

My body is his, and if he says I am beautiful, then I am. No matter what I look like to others, I am beautiful in his eyes, and because of that I hold my head high... .. for who can tell me that my Master is wrong in seeing the beauty in me? If he says I am his princess, then I am that...regal and graceful. And if I see laughter at me in the eyes of others, I do not recognize it, for who are they to call my Master wrong?

If he says I am his toy, his slut, his tramp, then I am that...as wanton and dirty as he wants me to be, and if others do not see this, then it is they who are blind, not my Master. My mind is his, to expand, to explore, to know as only he can. I have no secrets from him...for secrets are a thing that would keep me from being more perfectly his. Secrets would put a wall up between my Master and myself...and I do not want walls.

His lessons are not always ones I would seek on my own, but they are lessons he has decided I need, and so I learn from him. My soul is his, as bare to his touch as ever my skin could be when I kneel naked at his feet. Never a moment goes by when I do not feel his presence, be he miles away or standing over me.

I spend my days knowing that the energy and thought he puts into our relationship is as much for my benefit as for his, and look forward to each lovingly crafted scene that we do together.

His part is much harder than mine, and I know this and am grateful that he cares enough about me to spend his time and energy so freely on me. I have the easier job: to feel, to experience, to let myself go and abandon everything to him. I am his pleasure and his responsibility, and he takes both seriously. I am a submissive woman. I am proud to call myself that. My submission is a gift that I do not give lightly, and can only be given to one who can appreciate that gift and return it tenfold.

Only to he who has that strength will I give myself fully, because I am strong and proud.

I am a submissive woman.


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"For women the best aphrodisiacs are words,
The G-spot is in the ears"~Isabel Allende



Things I Had To Hide
Click Here To Enter


Long Stories

(Series)

Shaking the Family Tree Chapter I
Shaking the Family Tree Chapter II
Shaking the Family Tree Chapter III
Shaking the Family Tree Chapter IV
Shaking the Family Tree Chapter V
Shaking the Family Tree -The Music Lover

Conjuring Adonis I
Conjuring Adonis II
Conjuring Adonis III
Conjuring Adonis IV

Dream Lover I
Dream Lover II
Dream Lover III

Vlad's Lesson Plan
Vlad's Next Semester
Vlad's Final Lesson
Vlad's Beginning
Vlad's Resurrection Part 1
Vlad's Resurrection Part II

The Libertine of Libby Part 1
The Libertine of Libby Part 2
The Libertine of Libby Part 3
The Libertine of Libby Part 4
The Tawdry Tale of Tommy Two Tongues Part 1
The Tawdry Tale of Tommy Two Tongues Part 2
The Tawdry Tale of Tommy Two Tongues Part 3
The Libertine of Libby Part 5
The Libertine of Libby Part 6
The Libertine of Libby Part 7
The Libertine of Libby Part 8
The Libertine of Libby Part 9
The Libertine of Libby Part 10 (Last Chapter)

j's Seduction
j's Objectification
Recreating j
Educating j

The Photo Shoot Part 1
The Photo Shoot Part 2

Electra's Story Part 1
Electra's Story Part 2

Sunday's Child Part 1

Short Stories
(For those seeking immediate gratification)

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The Book
Dessert
De Sade, the Orgy and the Trial
I Cum In Peace
Biting My Way Into The New Year
Her Master's Test
Off White, Six Defective Doms and One Pathetic Troll
Going Postal
StepfordSlaves
Liberation
The New Year's Party

Nocturnal Events
Nocturnal Emissions
Death
Love's Garden
Patty On A Leash/Re-written
To Confess or Not To confess
Binding of Kay
Raising Bella Donna
One Last Good-bye
Spare the Rod, Spoil the Sub
Stella In The Stacks
Red Rain
Misjudged
Breakfast With A Twist
Mon Couer's Papillon (My Heart's Butterfly)
When Daddy's Girl is Bad
The Sitter, The Voyeur and Graduation Day
Please Don't Hurt Me
Cumalot or Knights In Tarnished Armor
Her Halloween Date
His Voice
Life's Little Ironies
The Gift
My Slut ester
Beads
Playing With Toyosi
The Slave Auction
#9 - A Detective Story

Ramblings and Observations
(For those who want a piece of My mind)

Puppy Love
Cunniliguis As A Religious Rite
Players, Pretenders and Abusers
Edgeplay and the Knife
My Youth
Submission
BDSM Website Security
Pain
On Missing Play
Beads a Semi-Fictional Account
Playing With Toyosi or How To Torture A Scammer
Hospital Stories


Photo Interpretations
(As I See It)
La Image'
La Image' II
The Shower
Lips
My Toy
Waiting
Daddy's Girl
Blossom
Chocolate and Roses
Special Delivery
Waiting II
Orgasm
Edge Play
Cocktails
This Flesh
Smoke
Eve
Illusion
Disillusion
Passion
Watching
Not Watching
Intimacy
Tango 2
Inside of You
Dreamscape
Demons
Despair
Spent
Mentally bound
His Flower
Her Grief

Poetry of a sort
(very little rhymes)

Tango
Shadows
Faded Words on Yellowing Paper
I Was
submissive position

Bound
Ladies of the Night





Bedtime Stories
(Fables)
My Love Fable
Pond of Sorrow and Tears
The Journey


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Extreme Body Modification
(Warning some of these photos may offend, even people with twisted minds)


Links


(They May Spank You For Viewing)



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Peep Show Stories
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Dee Reawakening
Polyfetishist Directory
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Shadow Of A Soul
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