Tag Archives: blood

This is my life: A night like any other

We had been together for several days already. There had been opportunities, but I’d passed them up. It didn’t seem quite the moment. He was not in his usual happy mood. I was waiting. I had him do some cooking, which usually cheers him up. It seemed to bring back some of his usual cheerful demeanor, but it didn’t last. I had given him some chores. That helped temporarily as well. He even asked if there was more he could do. But eventually, I was tired of waiting for that perfect moment.

I stripped him. I bound him. I started biting and flogging him. He began crying with the flogging. I had been expecting that. He’d been in a melancholy mood. His emotions close to the surface. I soon gave up the flogger for the whips. I began to hurt him in earnest. He sobbed. I put a towel down at his feet so he could drool, spit, sputter, anything. And he did. I gave him tissues and sips of water. I continued to whip him til his legs were collapsing and his back was bloody.

As his legs gave out, it was starting to pull on his wrists. His arms stretched overhead to their limit. So I took the cuffs off. And kept going. I placed my foot near his hand so he could touch me if he wanted to. Or needed to. He did. Eventually I decided he’d had enough. He was sobbing on the ground in a small pile of beautiful, bloody, submissive flesh. I put the whip down and laid on the ground beside him. He reached for me with a sweet desperation. I probably shouldn’t love that. But I do. It’s one of my favorite parts of our play. He needs to feel me. Feel me surrounding him with my arms and my acceptance and my love. He needs it like air. And I love him all the more for his unabashed neediness.

This time was different though. His sobbing was less heaving and more choking tears. It felt different to me as well. I asked him about it and my suspicions were confirmed. He didn’t experience the same moving kind of catharsis he usually does when I whip him that hard. I was hoping for that catharsis for him. That letting go and purging of emotions. But it doesn’t seem to work that way for him. Actually, it’s never worked that way for anyone I’ve played with. I begin to wonder if that “I will beat you because you need to let go!” is just a myth. I think the thing that helped the most was our being together. But maybe his being able to serve me by cooking, cleaning, and meeting my sadistic needs was more help than I think. I’ll have to ask him after more time has passed and he has some distance from it.


30 Days of Kink: 6 – 10

Day 6) Describe your weirdest/most interesting sexual fantasy.

I have a hard time determining what is “weird” and what isn’t. So many things seem quite normal to me, but my perspective has likely been skewed by spending so much time in kinky or kink-friendly spaces. I’d say that my blood play fantasies would probably qualify as weird or interesting to several people. However, they seem quite normal to me and they are largely no longer fantasies since I get to do them.

What might qualify as “weird” and is definitely in the realm of fantasy is my love of tentacles. I’d love to have tentacles with which to tease and torture my partners! I’d make one sexy tentacle monster.

Day 7) What’s your favorite toy?

Hmmmmm. I’d be hard pressed to pick a favorite. I do consider both the Husband and the Wild Thing to be my boy toys. So they’re my favorite toys. However, if we’re talking about kink implements, I’d say either the scalpel or the bullwhip. I really enjoy making people bleed. There’s something very visceral about seeing your lover bleeding and knowing that he’s bleeding his life’s blood for you.

Day 8) Post a kinky image you find erotic.

from the tumblr work is never over http://workneverover.tumblr.com/image/100771907976

from the tumblr work is never over http://workneverover.tumblr.com/image/100771907976

There are so many things to love about this picture. He’s a cute young pretty thing. She is older. He is in sexy lingerie and they are matching. I have a weakness for petite femme boys who will let me dress them up and torture them!

Day 9) Post a kink related song or music video you enjoy

Oddly, this is a struggle for me. I don’t play to “kink related songs.” I play to songs I like that have a good beat. A few things come to mind though. “Maps” by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. It certainly isn’t meant to be kinky. But the chorus states: They don’t love you like I love you. And, well, non-kinky people usually don’t show they love someone by tying him up and beating the hell out of him!

Day 10) What are your hard limits?

No minors. No animals. No scat. No vomit/rainbow/Roman play. I do not share my partner(s).


30 Days of Kink: Days 1 – 5

Day 1: Dom, sub, switch? What parts of BDSM interest you? Give us an interesting in-depth definition of what that means to you. Basically define your kinky self for us.

I am a sadistic dominant and a fetishist. I don’t have any interest in switching, submitting, receiving pain or being in bondage. I also identify as an owner more than a master, mistress, domme, or goddess. I also appreciate service. It’s a rough combination. Ideally I seek  masochist service submissives who are fans of latex and other fetish clothing. You might think these men are around every street corner. I promise you they aren’t. And on top of that, I really need someone who can submit to me on a 24/7 basis. It doesn’t have to be TPE, but it does need to be an integral part of his everyday life to submit to me. So, in short, I’m interested in bondage, dominance, sadism, fetishism, and service. I’m not sure that’s terribly in-depth or interesting, but it’s what I seek when I seek partners.

Day 2: List your kinks

There are way too many specific ways I like to express my kinks. Things like whips and chains and needles. However, I’d say all the activities that I do are expressions my actual kinks. I kink on vulnerability, helplessness, trust, intimacy, and reactions.

Day 3: How did you discover you were kinky?

Entirely by chance. I had some friends that were kinky and they shared that fact with me. Before that, I had a lot of bad sex and frustrating relationships.

Day 4: Any early experiences that, in retrospect, hint at your kinks?

As I’m an old codger, it’s difficult to remember back that far sometimes. I will say that I rarely found things disturbing or scary that other children did. I merely found them interesting. But that could also just be my natural tendency to be curious. I did see a movie involving cutting and blood as a child that I’m fairly certain influenced my current love of bloodplay. So perhaps I should have known. But I didn’t.

Day 5: What was your first kinky sexual experience?

My first experience was trying to be a good submissive. So it was interesting to say the least. And that pales in comparison to my first sexual experience as a sadist. I picked up a flogger and hit a willing bottom with it a few times. It was electric, exciting, satisfying in ways I had never even dreamed of. There was no other contact. Nobody was naked. It was, to all appearances, quite innocent. But for me it was a sexual revelation. All the joy in my sexual life has unfolded from that single moment.

This is my life: Saturday

He was lounging on the table so casually. Naked. Unselfconscious. Relaxed. Humming along to the music I had playing. He looked so incredibly inviting. I could hardly wait to begin. But I wanted to take this moment to admire his casual grace. He saw me notice him and smiled. It only served to increase his charm. I told him how relaxed he looked and he made a joke about lounging on pianos and singing to me. It was sweet and funny and it ended the moment enough for me to want to start tying him up.

I tied him around the waist and down each leg. I needed to tie him to the table, but wanted to have something prettier and more extensive than simply tying his ankles to the legs of the table. He loves when I’m creative with rope. He preened in the rope and looked so happy. I had him lay down on the table so I could tie his arms to the front table legs. I wanted to give him enough play to reach me if he needed to touch my skin for comfort. Or to shift his shoulders. I planned to be very mean to one of them.

I cleaned my hands, I cleaned him. He looked quite relaxed and peaceful. I knew it wouldn’t last. The first needle. It was smaller than the last time I did needles with him, but I knew it would be harder. I slid the needle in. All of it. I buried the whole metallic length under his skin. He might have thought he was prepared for it. I’d told him what I had planned. He wasn’t prepared. He wailed. I smiled. I’d known it would be much more challenging. I also knew he could handle it.

And he did. Needle after needle. Some of them directly on top of each other. Some crisscrossing other needles. Some on their own. I put them in one after the next. He made such beautiful noises. He tensed his muscles. He grabbed my legs for support and comfort. He cried. I love when he cries. Then it was done. They were all in. I looked at him, bound and bleeding on my table. His adorable perky ass cheeks were framed beautifully by the ropes. I started spanking him.

He was caught completely by surprise. Unprepared for this new and different pain. It was magnified by the pain of the needles in his back every time his body tensed. I spanked and cropped and hit his beautiful bottom until he was breathless. Until it was bright red. He was crying again in great heaving gasps. I stopped and rubbed his lower back and arms as he reached for me, craving the touch of my skin as much as he could get. I comforted him with pets and skin while he cried.

Then it was time to pull out the needles. I was kind with a few of them, pulling them straight out singly. But it’s not my nature to be kind during a bloodplay scene. The rest I twisted, turned, pulled them out in pairs and groups. He screamed. It’s probably worse than when they are going in. Just when it seems like the pain will be over, it isn’t. But then they were all out. All gone. And he lay bleeding and sobbing on the table. I untied his hands and climbed up on the table so I could hold him gently. I love to hold him as he cries in my embrace. I love how he suffers so beautifully. I love how he trusts me enough to give his body to my ministrations fearlessly.

This is my life: whipped bloody

He stood there excitedly while I put rope around his legs. He was smiling and practically vibrating with the excitement of what he hoped was coming. I took the opportunity to run my hands over his lithe body as I was working the rope around his legs. Then I led him over to the hard point and put the cuffs around his wrists. He smiled at me as I raised his arms up and locked him into place.

I smacked him around a little bit and bit him. He was already shaking and moaning, and still almost vibrating with what I was going to do to him. He’s wanted it since I first kissed him with my whip. And tonight I wanted to give it to him. But not yet. I got out my thick leather flogger. Getting hit with it is almost like being hit by a bat, it’s so heavy. He was having trouble keeping his feet. But I could tell he was also enjoying it.

Then I got out one of my new whips. He was the first to feel it. I got it just for him. I wanted to bloody him with it and make it my whip for him alone. He was shocked but excited by the change. His body reacted. He jumped a little with the lick of the whip. Slowly, I worked up the intensity. Slowly, his reactions changed from sighs and moans to yelps and gasping. He was shaking now. Well past the excited vibrating. It was no longer coming. No longer a concept. A wish. It was here. It was now.

As the whip kept coming, no longer kissing him gently, he started crying. Beautiful tears flowing down his beautiful face. His body was trying to get away from the whip, but he wanted it to keep coming as well. If he’d really wanted to get away, he could have done so many things. He could have moved out of my striking range. He could have turned around. He could have used his safeword. But he didn’t. He shook and moved a little, but never so far I couldn’t reach him. And he was sobbing now. His back striped and starting to bleed. His whole body was heaving with his tears. I kept going. I kept going til he was a sobbing, bleeding, beautiful, glorious heap.

When I finally stopped, I came around to his face with tissues. I knew he would need them. And he did. His face was wet with tears and snot. And I let him blow his nose into my tissues before I would let his hands free. He was trying, somewhat incoherently, to apologize for the snot. But I wouldn’t hear of it. I couldn’t let him apologize for something so raw and vulnerable and exquisite. I finally freed his wrists and his arms dropped like stones. I held him tight, unable to express any other way how awed by him I was in that moment. His capacity for vulnerability and pain leave me speechless. He started crying again in my arms. I wanted to tell him how amazed I am by him. Giving me this. After all the years I’ve been doing this. Finally. But I couldn’t. All I could do was hold him as he cried some more in my arms.

Later. Much later. When I could speak clearly again. I finally told him.

This is my life: sex and blood

He looked amazing at the party in his sexy panties, bra, and heels. For once, I think he knew it. It’s always so late when we play, but I like it that way because we don’t have to worry about other people waiting to use the equipment. It was late. Most of the people had already gone home or were in various other areas just talking. I had him fetch me a trash can as I was setting up my clean area. After I was clean and the table was clean and everything was where I could get to it easily, I had him strip down to his hood, collar, and chastity cage. He climbed carefully onto the table, doing his best not to disturb the chucks pads. I had already paddled him just for fun earlier in the evening. Now I took my favorite flogger to him. I took my time flogging him gently on the back and ass and legs. Then I started hitting him harder. I love the sound of the leather striking his flesh. Eventually I hit him hard enough that he began to squirm. I had to caution him not to move around too much. He would knock my toys off onto the floor. So he started moving just his legs. He lifted them and so I decided to get out my cane. I caned his feet. I caned the rest of him too. He went from satisfied happy noises to noises of some distress. I laughed. 

After I’d had enough of flogging and caning him and his noises and writhing, I cleaned his back and arms and ass off and cuffed him. The first needle is always the easiest. The more I use, the worse it feels for him. I knew it would be harder even than usual because I was going to cross several of them under each other. One by one they went in. I slipped them ever so gently under his skin and out and back in again. Slowly. Deliberately. I love to watch them penetrating him. I love how he jumps and screams. I’ve learned to anticipate his flinching and jumping so I can still get them just where I want them to go in and out. There is something beautiful about watching that cold metal going under his skin. Sometimes it’s almost trancelike. I’m usually very silent during needle play unless he makes a particularly beautiful noise and it makes me laugh. Or unless I’m so turned on I’m cumming.

We had to take a few breaks while I was putting them all in. But we were a team. On the same page. We both wanted it. For the first time in a long time I felt how much he wanted it. Even though he doesn’t like it. He wanted it. He wanted me to have it. And I did. Every last one of them. I wrapped the strings around the needles, pulling them this way and that way. I tied him down to the table. I cleaned my hands again. I took the cane to him. I caned him from toe to neck. He made such pretty noises when the cane hit the needles. I wanted him. I cleaned my hands again. I started pulling out needles. Very gently. I think he was surprised at how gentle I was being. But it didn’t last. The last several needles, I used the strings to make a needle zipper. I pulled them all out and he yelled. I laughed and it was so hot. He was bleeding now.

I put on my cock and got up on the table on top of him. I spread his cheeks and entered him very slowly. I just had to fuck him. I rode him from behind. He was a faceless body for me to use. He was there for me to bleed and fuck until I was done. I fucked him and bent over til i could get at his blood. I licked him clean as I fucked him. He tastes like copper and I love the taste of his blood and skin on my tongue. After I’m done, after a long time and a second cock, I clean him up and we lay together with his back to me so I can hold him. Even later in the mirror, I see that though my hands have stayed clean, I still have his blood on my face. Even now it makes me smile.