When the Sadist Awakes

It happened while we where talking, him and I.

I could literally feel it happen. It was quite … intense.

 

It was the guy from the other post, and it was the third time we met. We had talked about kink, domination and the like before, enough to figure out that we were compatible enough to meet again. This time we were talking about something I wanted to try, and if he was willing to try it or not. He was willing, he did not hesitate, not about that. But at a point in the conversation he looked away and was very much not eager to look at me. He paused, and did not continue. Just stared at the ground. It took him several tries to get the words out.

 

That was when it happened.

The sadist in me awoke for the first time in months.

Ever since I put her to sleep when my relationship ended last autumn.

 

I find being a sadist slightly scary. I have to trust the other person, the person I hurt, so much. I have to trust them with my peace of mind, my sanity, my very life. If they do not communicate properly, if they do not say stop when they need me to stop, if I make a mistake (which do unfortunately happen), if they change their mind and decides that what I did was a violation after the fact … I am well and truly screwed, on so many levels. Of course, I do everything in my power to keep the bottom safe. I have always done so, and I always will. But the trust it takes to give someone pain … it is not easy to come by. So I was grateful when the sadist went to sleep without a fight.

 

It was not so with the dominant in me. Far from it. That part never went to sleep, never retreated. It just … waited. Patiently. In the darkest corner of my mind. (Cue malicious laughter.) I think my dominant traits are easier to live with, so to speak. So while the dominant part of me thought living without a submissive was uncommonly hard, it did not make my life very difficult.

 

Because the dominant part never retreated, it was that itch I was out to scratch when I started looking for someone to play with. I wanted someone to order around. Someone who liked taking orders as much as I liked giving them. Someone who did not think BDSM = sex. Someone who would be happy with a simple D/s relationship. And because I was just looking for a D/s relationship, gender was not an issue.

 

Which again led to the conversation with the guy that looked away form me, clearly embarrassed.

 

The sadist roused and sniffed the air like a freaking hound. She could smell the embarrassment, and feel it in the air, as well as see it. While I, seconds before, had been ready to feel sympathy towards him and his humiliation, I now had none. I just stared at him while my old, sadistic smile almost split my face in half. I watched him like a hawk for more signs of humiliation, drank up his body cues and watched the hands that could not find a good place to lie still.

 

It felt so good.

I revelled in it.

 

The conversation started up haltingly, but my smile did not disappear right away. It came to the point where I had to ask whether or not I had informed him about that fact that I am a sadist. (I had.) I must have looked somewhat ridiculous with that grin.

 

Some minutes later, the grin disappeared.

The memory of the incident and the feelings it aroused, did not.

Now the sadist is wide-awake and she does not want to shut up, much less go back to sleep.

 

I do not yet have the level of trust with this guy, that I both need and want. But the sadist does not give a damn. She invents one scenario after an other, full of both pain and humiliation. And she makes me imagine how good it will feel to do and say those things, to make him do those things, and watch him blush, and whimper, and stammer, and groan, and look away, and … and … yesss …

It has become quite bothersome.

 

I have things to do. Things that now is a lot harder to do because my imagination is on fire and my sadist is starved and so, so hungry. There is no holding her back, at least she does not think so.

 

To top it of, her chosen victim is not exactly ready for the taking. Even if he should be willing to do it; I am not.

 

I think that is the hardest part of it. That it is likely that I am the biggest obstacle for my own satisfaction. But I do not know him well enough, and do not trust him enough, to really believe that he is able to give me the communication and honesty that is necessary to make it safe to release the sadist, even a little.

 

Maybe in a while. When we have talked a bit more. When we have played a bit with D/s. Then maybe we could start small and see where it takes us. If he wants to. If I dare.

 

In the meanwhile … does anyone know how to gag a pain-hungry sadist? I have work to do.

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Two Sadist and one Masochist Went Into a Play Space …

Co-topping. I never really thought all that hard about it before it happened to … happen. I have heard that it can be a fantasy for bottoms – two or more tops playing more or less simultaneously with the same bottom. I didn’t think much about it, one way or another, but I read about tops that found it irritating or frustrating that their bottoms wanted more than one. Not necessarily because the tops didn’t want to share at all, but because there is only so much space on one body to play with; it can be hard to have fun when another top is hugging the place!

I can’t say that I share this view. I really don’t.

From time to time I have loaned Kitty to others, but there are rules. (Aren’t there always?) The most important one is; I will be there the whole time. Unless it so happens that I don’t want to, and Kitty feels comfortable with that. The common reason for this is my own body’s sometimes lack of willingness to cooperate. As a consequence, I can’t give Kitty the beatings she wants, and that I want her to have.

While I say ‘common reason’, it really hasn’t happened that often and it didn’t happen at all before our relationship had reached a place where we both where comfortable with it. It’s actually quite fun watching your girlfriend get a beating from someone we both like and trust. From time to time I have also agreed to have her being a rope bunny for V or others. Only a time or two has any of this led to discomfort of any kind, and then it was elements in play that we could not foresee. Luckily, they were easily fixed, or forgotten.

But neither of this is co-topping.

I have only really co-topped once. Having someone to plan with, even if it was just planning then and there, was great fun. Having someone to send sly looks and big grins or laugh with when Kitty howled, was great, great fun. It was V that was my co-top that evening. Naturally, I guess.

We had planned for somethings, and other things just happened. I had packed a small bag; she had packed a bigger one. The venue provides ice-cubes and we were all set. V had brought ropes and Kitty where very soon in them. It was the first time I saw her in predicament bondage. On her toes with clower clamps on her nipples. If she put down her heels the clamps bit harder. The ice made her shiver and gasp.

(Now I’m starting to regret not writing about this earlier. Details have been forgotten and what I remember best is Kitty’s howls of pain and V and me laughing until my face hurt.)

Later on V put Kitty over a high bench and tied her to it. We proceeded with various tools; hands, wooden spoons, spatulas, paddles, the very evil stick and the thing that made Kitty cry out the most; two long zippers. (In case you do not know what a zipper is: it’s a long row of clothespins on a thread. You attach all the pins to the skin, preferably a place where the skin is delicate. When you start ripping of the tread all the pins get ripped off at once. It hurts. A lot. Hence the howls.)

While V came up with good ideas and was excellent in executing them, she also deferred to me. If this was because Kitty is my girlfriend and submissive or because I most likely know her the most or some other reason, I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I didn’t really think about it until later. (Perhaps I should ask now?) But V did. And maybe that is the reason why I don’t see the problem with co-topping? Maybe other tops bicker over place and power in the scene, and I didn’t experience that. Maybe.

All of us had a really good time.

That is not to say that Kitty didn’t have objections. Or objections are too strong a word; she wished somethings a little differently, should something similar happen again. I have taken them to heart and plan to have her refresh my memory, because sooner or later, something similar will most certainly happen again.

On this V and I agree wholeheartedly.

The Three C’s

As a newbie in BDSM I have done quite a bit of reading and thinking and discussing. Both about doing kinky stuff and about having a D/s relationship. It did not take long before I saw some words repeat themselves, and I dubbed them the three C’s. The three C’s is probably on the top five list on how to make a D/s relationship work – or any relationship for that matter. For me, those words are the top three on that list. Better yet, they are all on the top of the list, together.

Consent. Compatibility. Communication.

Consent.

Consent is vital for any relationship. From consensual non-consent or blanket consent to enthusiastic consent and everything in between – consent is what distinguish a healthy power exchange relationship from abuse. I read and hear about consent everywhere, and for a reason. It is not easy to be new and not completely get how important consent is and how many shades consent comes in. In the beginning, consensual non-consent sounded awfully like abuse to me. Now I know a bit more and the term does not sound as frightening.

Personally, I like enthusiastic consent the most. It is not necessary all the time, but often enough to hold my doubts and worry in check. A lot of the time, I get her consent by asking her to do something and she does it, and by her sounds and other reactions when I do something to her. It is not as if I find something new and just do it without talking about it or give her a warning first. Informed consent is important. Here is where the two other C’s comes in.

Compatibility.

To find someone that you are compatible with is not easy, but if you find someone who floats on the same waves as you do, the wait is worth it. I am not only talking about kinks. For a relationship to work compatibility is necessary both in a vanilla setting and in a kinky one. It will not be easy to have a relationship when one partner only wants to party in their free time and the other only wants to go on hikes. If there is no middle ground, there is not much for a relationship to grow on. The way I see it, compatibility in a vanilla setting is as important, if not more, than having compatible kinks. (If you want to have a vanilla relationship too, that is, and not just a D/s relationship.)

As for compatible kinks, who cares what rest of the world thinks of your kinks when you have a partner that enjoys them as much as you do? To find someone that you have many kinks in common with can be a hardship for some. I have read about people who just cannot seem to find someone who is into the same things as them. And I have read about many people who have found the one that fulfill their own kinks to perfection, even if they did not think it possible at first.

I think it is important to remember that people are first and foremost not kink delivery systems, but people. Chances are you will not find someone who like all the things you like as much as you like them and nothing else. Do not write a list about all the things that a prospective partner have to be and like; you might miss out on a lot of great people if you do. Then there is the fact that some people might learn to like and love new kinks, because their partner like this kink or that kink so much. They might grow into it, given the chance and the time to get used to it. Then again, they might not. It is probably not smart to begin a relationship on the assumption that the new partner will learn to love a kink that you cannot live without. Talk about it, a lot, and be clear when you communicate. This is where the last C comes in.

Communication.

I have read a lot of post and articles that has claimed another version of the three C’s. Communication, communication and communication. In a D/s relationship, communication does not fix everything any more than in a vanilla relationship, but it is a beginning. There will not be possible to clarify or fix anything if you do not communicate.

In addition, open communication is even more important when one partner have all the authority in a relationship and a green card for giving pain when one wants to. I would think it is good to have a submissive who is a secure enough communicator that she may tell the dominant that she feels like she is coming down with the flu, before the dominant decides to give the submissive an ice cold shower. Informed consent goes both ways. I would feel horrible if I inadvertently made my girlfriend sick, (I would certainly not consent to do so) or harmed her in any way when it could have been avoided by open communication.

I can honestly say that I have never been in a relationship where I have communicated this much. I am not a great communicator. I like to talk to my girlfriend, my friends and my family, but I am not good at talking about heavier stuff. It gets stuck in my head, sometimes in my throat, and I cannot get the words out. If the other part is as bad as I am at communication, little communication will find place. I do not like the fact, but it is a fact.

Fortunately, my girlfriend is much better at communication than I am and makes it possible for me to communicate without having too much trouble. It does not make all conversations easy, but it makes it possible even when it is hard.

Sadistic Guilt Trip

Most days I’m okay with my sadistic desires. I’m more than okay – I enjoy the happiness and pleasure I feel when I’m being sadistic. Sometimes I laugh gleefully when I smack or whip my masochistic girlfriend and sometimes I can feel my breath catch while I watch her take the pain I give her. Her reaction to the pain plays havoc with my own feelings and reactions and it is all part of the fun.

But not all days are most days. From time to time I experience doubt and guilt because of my sadistic tendencies; or needs – which is what they feel like at times. I know that I’m not fully reconciled with my sadistic side. I have come a long way, but aren’t completely there. Or I’m not there all the time; now and again I take a step or two backwards and I let the doubt in.

Not on purpose, mind you.

Last time it happened was after I had played with my girlfriend. I had felt particularly hungry for her pain this time and I had gotten my fill. We were both happy and satisfied. We didn’t do anything new or big or dangerous of any kind, that wasn’t the problematic part. What was different this time was the fact that I had been made very, very aware how much pure pleasure I get out of giving her pain. I have long been aware of the fact that I like it, but not to this degree. At some point during this playtime it scared me a bit, but at that stage I savored it too much to stop.

Afterwards it was time to pay up. It started small, almost like an irritation in the back of my thoughts. The more I thought about it, the more it prickled, and I wasn’t able to stop thinking about it. In the end it was like someone shouting at me:

“What the hell is wrong with you?! You can’t like that! You can’t get pleasure from that; you are a sick, sick bastard!”

The main reason this angry, hateful voice didn’t – and probably never will – do any lasting damage to my peace of mind and self-esteem was the very vivid and very pleasant memories of the play time I just had had with my girlfriend. She enjoyed receiving pain as much as I enjoyed giving it, which makes her as sick – or as healthy – as me, and that I can live with. Curling up with her and talking to her soothed my doubts and the angry and shocked voice in my head slowly retreated. When I told her I had gotten scared by my own feelings of satisfaction and delight, she hurried to reassure me that I was safe with her. I hadn’t done anything to her that she hadn’t liked and she wouldn’t let me do it either. There was nothing wrong and nothing to be afraid of. I was safe with her.

And the door closed behind the doubt and guilt.

I’m not sick or otherwise wrong for being sadistic. My girlfriend is not sick or otherwise wrong for being masochistic.

My sadism fits her masochism like a hand in a glove and there is nothing wrong with either of us, or with anyone else that partake in consensual BDSM. I’m fully aware of this, but sometimes my thoughts and feelings take a turn to the worse and I have to be reminded – and remind myself – of this, once again.

Most days I enjoy being a sadist and getting my satisfaction from my girlfriend’s moans of pain and pleasure. Most days I can pinch, bite, slap and claw at her and then cuddle up with her without a second thought – just a mind and body full of bliss. Most days being a sadist only makes things more interesting.

And some days I need to remind myself what a respectful, caring and kind human being I am. Sadist or no, it doesn’t change that fact.

Cuddly Pain and Trust

A couple of days ago, at a kinky gathering, I was cuddling with my girlfriend. It had been a week since the last time I saw her and I had a hard time keeping my hands of her. Hugging, stroking, kissing, running my hands through her hair, squeezing her hand, kissing her neck and cheek, pinching, biting and pulling her hair … Wait a minute, that’s not cuddling!

At one point I recognized what I was doing; I was giving her pain and cuddling at the same time. It was almost like I had been doing it on autopilot, not really aware, but having a good time nonetheless. I enjoy her sounds of contentment as much as I enjoy her sounds of pain. A hug there – a pinch here. A kiss on the cheek – a bite on the neck. The usual. The thing is; it kind of has become the usual. Not to say that we never cuddle without any pain, we do (I think), but cuddling and pain goes hand in hand, so to speak. Personally, I think they do great together.

When I realized what I was doing, I also realized that we hadn’t discussed whether my girlfriend was okay with it or not. At no point had she protested or asked me to stop, but still, I had to ask, to be sure. My girlfriend assured me that she was okay with the cuddly pain and of course she would tell me if she wasn’t. Her one reservation was that there would be no cuddly pain in vanilla situations and I readily agreed.

I have quite often come across writings that state that the bottom must trust the top before any play take place. The bottom must trust the top to respect his or hers boundaries, he or she must trust the top to release them at the end (if there is bondage), not to harm them and to help them if anything should go wrong. I wholeheartedly agree at all points and then some.

Something that doesn’t get as much attention is the fact that the top must trust the bottom just as much. A top must trust the bottom to tell him or her everything that might have an impact on the play and to be honest about his or her health, physical as well as mental and emotional. The top must trust the bottom to give feedback and to stop the play if anything should go wrong or feel wrong, and he or she must trust that the bottom won’t turn against the top should a mishap occur.

I have believed that being the bottom would have to be the scariest thing, what with the helplessness and all, and that trust had to be paramount for the sake of the bottom. I have felt that being in control in a scene is daunting too, but a bit less so. Now I’m not so sure. I doubt that I would be as relaxed if I didn’t trust my girlfriend and I wouldn’t be able to go from stroking to pinching and from kissing to biting without a thought if I wasn’t convinced she would tell me to stop if she disliked it.

I trust my girlfriend. I trust her to tell me if something is wrong, if something is too much, too little or simply not right. I trust her the same way I hope she trust me, to speak up for herself when needed. Even so … I’m not able to stop worrying. I worry that I might do something wrong, and not only with the cuddly pain; I worry about the all kinds of pain and pleasure in addition to the small dose of D/s we have dabbled with. I worry that I do or push too much, too little or in the wrong places or circumstances. In short, I worry – which is nothing new. What’s new is the fact that I give someone pain, I hurt her and I like it (a lot) and that’s worth worrying about. (Not that I like it, that’s not the issue here.) So now there’s a small, nagging part of me that goes: What if she doesn’t tell you if she’s had enough, what then, hmm?

Luckily the small, nagging and very annoying part doesn’t get a lot of room. Partly because I know my girlfriend quite well now, and partly because my girlfriend is very good at giving feedback; no matter what I do to her, her noises tells me how she feels about it. I might miss a hint now and again or misinterpret a sound, but if I’m in doubt I ask. (Right now I will most likely piss her of by asking is she’s okay, long before I drive her off by doing something really wrong. Not that I really believe that either of those will happen.)

While I wait for my doubts to shut up (and yes, it’s likely to be a very long wait) I will indulge in a bit more of cuddly pain with my girlfriend and take one day at a time.

And for the record, cuddly pain is so a term – as of now.

Moments

My hands are stroking down her back. I hear soft sounds in response.

There is slap when I hit her ass. My palm stings and I’m rewarded by a low moan. I continue to hit, she continues to moan.

I try a zipper for the first time. The high pitched sobbing sends small lightnings through me. I want more.

My fingers curl around her chin, keeping her head still, keeping all her attention on me and only me. I kiss, lick and bite my way up her back, over her shoulders and up her throat.

“Mine now,” I whisper in her ear. “Mine.”

Her breath comes a bit faster.

I hit her ass until it is warm and red before I position myself against her back and slip my arm around her chest. I hold her tight and dig my fingernails into that red and tender skin.

When she gasps and moans I want to lick it up, her sounds, her pain, her pleasure, her, all of her. It’s so delicious, she is so delicious. I lick and bite her throat instead and I’m trying to hold my own response back, just a bit, just enough.

The room is warm. She is naked and standing still, I’m not. It’s too warm and I pull my dress over my head before I continue to beat her ass.

I try the zipper once more. I don’t think she likes it much, but when asked she says I can use it again. My heart melts a little.

Standing behind her with my hand around her chin fast becomes a favorite. I’m so close to her and I can bite her shoulders, nip at her ears and dig my nails into her ass, another favorite of mine.

When we are finished I remove her blindfold. The first words out of her mouth are: “You have been beating me in that!” She almost looks disappointed that I have been hurting her just in my underwear and stay ups, or maybe the disappointment stems from the fact that she hasn’t been able to watch. Who knows?

We relax. I stroke her hair. We talk a bit. Both of us are finding our way back to earth and normal life before we leave the room to rejoin the rest of the play party.

 

Curious about pet play

When I first began to think about kink and BDSM and what it could mean for me, there were certain things that I believed I would never like. Things I believed I couldn’t like. First and foremost there was sadism. That wasn’t for me, it couldn’t be. I was a good girl and always have been. I don’t do bad things and I certainly don’t like to hurt people. The thought of giving someone pain was horrific – to begin with.

It wasn’t too long before I started to question my declaration of not being sadistic. Little by little I came to the conclusion that I’m, in fact, sadistic. Writing this blog helped to clear my head and put my feelings and thoughts into words. Now I’m beginning to be quite comfortable with the label sadist. All I really needed was to be around masochists that like to receive pain as much as I like giving it – possibly more.

Another concept that was too strange for me was pet play. In the beginning when I just read about BDSM and didn’t think of what it could mean for me and what I could like and dislike, pet play was too peculiar too even contemplate. So, when I began to think about BDSM and what I thought of different stuff on a personal level, pet play wasn’t even in my mind. I had gone to quite a few kinky gatherings before it crossed my mind.

One evening I began to think about a new idea to a story with a kinky subject and figured out, quite unexpected, that my characters wasn’t only in a D/s relationship; they were also in an owner and kitten relationship. That was when I began to think about pet play and discovered that the thought of having such a relationship was a little attractive.

In the weeks and months that followed I read a bit about pet play and it popped up in my thoughts again and again, until I was well and truly curious. What would it be like to have a kitten? How would it work? Was it possible to have both an owner and kitten relationship and a more ordinary D/s relationship? What about pain, could I give my kitten pain – if I ever found myself in that kind of relationship – or wasn’t that done?

Of course, I realized that most of the questions only could be answered by my future partner and me, by figuring out what we wanted for ourselves and our interactions. There’s no handbook that encompass all owner and kitten relationships, which is all to the better. Everyone is different and I wouldn’t like to follow someone else’s plan, anyway. But the thought of pet play went from being not interesting to a little attractive to very attractive to ‘I really want to try this’.

With both sadism and pet play on the list, I have had two major change of heart, and mind, since I began to explore the kinky world – and probably a lot of smaller ones. I’m pretty sure that I will find other things that I will change my mind about, in time.