[Guest Blog] Broken Toys Are More Fun to Play With by Lilith Young

Today’s guest blog is from the fabulous Lilith Young. Lilith describes herself as a “30-something kinky lesbian switch” and blogs at Lilith Young Writes . I absolutely loved this piece and am delighted to be sharing it with you all today.

A woman with her hands tied above her head in cuffs, for a guest post by Lilth Young

Disclaimer: This is not medical advice on how to make kink safe for you. Do your own research. What is safe for me may not be safe for you.

This is my first time writing about how my disability affects my sex life. To be honest, it’s quite terrifying. But, in the end, all the good stuff is just that. Quite terrifying. Maybe that’s just one of the reasons I am into kink – I like the edge that comes with being scared. So in the words of Jenny Lawson, “Be bizarre. Be weird. Be proud of the uniquely beautiful way that you are broken.”

My name is Lilith and I am broken. I am a 30-something kinky lesbian switch, who makes awkward jokes when I am nervous, and I have EDS and POTS. To put it simply: my joints fall out of place and my heart rate often races until I pass out. Sorry fellas, it’s not you making my heart race – it’s my poor circulation. Ladies, on the other hand… well, that’s poor circulation too, but you do make me wet. So that counts for something, right?

That’s all nice, Lilith, but how does this affect kink? I mean, why am I even still reading this post? Perhaps your kink is women who ramble incessantly. In which case, hi! I’m Lilith, and you are?

For me, kink and disability all boils down to negotiation.  It is super important to explain anything that impacts your safety or your partner(s) safety. If someone seems unsure, can’t keep you safe, or dismisses what you are saying, don’t play together. You know the type. The guy that calls himself a master, but doesn’t know what he is talking about and casually dismisses your concerns. Cringe. Red Flag. Run Away! Or make an excuse to go the restroom and call your friend and sneak out a window. Whatever method is easiest for you.

It can feel impossible to say to someone, “Hey, I just met you and this is crazy, but play with me maybe and… I have lots of medical issues. No, wait, don’t run away – I have a cute butt. I swear.” In reality, a lot of people will not be intimidated by you expressing your needs clearly. In fact, many will appreciate it.

So, you caught the big fish and you found someone to play with. It’s not so hard to quickly get down to playing. Just make sure you discuss anything that can hurt you or others. That’s it. You do not need to share your life story.  Can you stand? Can you sit? Can I hang you upside down? Do you bleed easily?

One time I got one of my many spontaneous nose bleeds at a fashion show in Miami. Gushing. I was in the bathroom for thirty minutes trying to get it to stop, thinking, “Great, now everyone here thinks I am super into cocaine! And where is someone with blood kink when you need them?”

Be specific about your limits and give details. Such as, “I pass out easily. My primary partner knows the signs; listen to them when they call it and don’t freak out if it happens.”  

So what are some big things I personally negotiate

  1. I can’t stand for long periods of time. So don’t ask me to. Lots can be done from a stool or a bench or kneeling on the ground. Oh so much…
  2. I can’t be still either. So again, don’t ask me to. Five minutes of stillness and my joints start to sublax (that’s when they slide in and out of place on their own). I find watching it fun, in a creepy sort of way. But it does hurt (and not the kind of pain I am looking for), so I have to be able to adjust my position at all times. Fullstop. Someone who is super into protocol probably would not want to try to negotiate a night of high protocol with me, but guess what? I make a terrible slave in other ways as well. Literally terrible. The worst. They would never invite me back!
  3. You’re probably thinking: if you can’t sit still, I would tie you up. That is almost always what is said next. Sorry folks. That will just pull my joints all out of place. Plus, now I am still… and in undesired pain. How about you let me tie you up instead? That I can do. I once had a friend run their hand over my spine and my spine moved around in their fingers. I laughed. They freaked out.
  4. I have lots of extra safewords. There is so much debate on safewords – some people argue that a Dom should recognize the signs and know when to stop. Some people argue that you should never play without safewords.  I will not dive down that rabbit hole today. For me, I use colour safewords. This is something almost everyone has experience using and feels comfortable with. Since I need to be constantly checked in on, I like green, yellow, red for that. This way I can pause things with yellow to adjust as needed. “Yellow! I need to move my arm.” I also use purple when playing with long term partners. If something has triggered an anxiety or panic attack that’s unrelated to what we are doing, I will use “purple” to stop play. I wanted something that indicated that we had not crossed an agreed limit, but that something had gone wrong and I needed to stop. Those are deep conversations I don’t have with everyone. With someone casual, I will just red out. Goodness, I can’t unload all my baggage on casual play. And I don’t think I really should.

It took me a considerable amount of time to gain confidence in my play and life surrounding my health. It happened so slowly that I did not realize I had overcome a lot of my fears. Until one day, I started wearing my compression socks out in public, whether or not they made me look like an old lady with stockings on, and no matter how many people made comments on them.

“I’m not looking up your skirt, I’m – are you wearing stockings?” That was my boss. Because at that point, I knew I didn’t give a fuck how it looked to other people. I only cared about how it helped keep me from getting dizzy and blacking out.

So I don’t care if creating a long detailed negotiation is too much for some people. Those are not my people. I care about how I feel when I play.

Once you begin to accept yourself, a whole world opens up. You never know what may happen. I even found a pair of bondage cuffs that allowed enough movement for me, and I am pretty sure that moment is exactly the same feeling people get when they climb Mount Everest. Ok, maybe I am exaggerating. A little. What can I say? Kink is all about letting your imagination run wild.

So, jump in and start playing.

Thanks to Lilith for sharing her story so generously with us. Don’t forget to check out her blog and give her a follow on the Twitter!

Ten Things a Collar Can Mean (But Doesn’t Have To)

Mr CK and I recently had a discussion about collars – specifically, whether there was any context in which either of us using a collar in kink play with somebody else would ever be okay. (This is, and currently remains, one of my absolute bottom-line boundaries – seriously, that limit is so hard you could etch it on a diamond).

A black collar lying on a white bed, for a post about collars sponsored by Taboo Brighton

After a while of unproductive discussion, we realised we were talking past each other for a simple reason:

We both understood what we were talking about in completely different ways!

To him, a collar essentially means very little. He considers it a piece of equipment, no more inherently meaningful than a length of rope or a paddle – useful as a way to, say, move someone around or immobilise their hands by tying them to it, but that’s about as far as it goes.

To me, a collar means everything. I don’t do 24/7 D/s dynamics any more (for good reasons) but wearing a collar for someone is still a profound display of love, trust, vulnerability and – yes, even for a limited amount of time – giving myself to them completely. For me, my primary partner collaring someone else would be a betrayal akin to putting an engagement ring on someone else.

We were elightened by this realisation, but remain unable to completely reconcile our massively different views on this topic.

But it got me thinking about all the different things collars can mean, and not mean. A simple band of leather (or stainless steel, or faux leather, or whatever) can take on so many different significances. Here are some I thought of, though I am sure there are many more.

A lifetime commitment

This is perhaps the closest to the “a collar is an alternative to a wedding ring” school of thought, to which many kinksters ascribe. For people who feel this way, a collaring – whether with a formal ceremony or not – is as significant as a marriage. I very much felt this way when I was collared to my ex.

Permanent ownership

Not everyone who wears or gives a collar views it as a symbol of ownership or ascribes to an “owner/property” dynamic, but many people do. In this kind of permanent D/s relationship – which may also be romantic or not – the collar can serve as a symbol, marking the submissive out as property of the Dominant. Many people in these types of relationships will use collars that lock and cannot be removed without the key. (If you do this, please, please give your submissive a spare key in case of emergency!) Some even go as far as to get a body modification, such as a tattoo or piercing, in place of or as well as a more traditional collar.

Remember: ownership (of whatever kind) does not necessarily imply monogamy. Polyamory can absolutely be a part of a D/s dynamic.

Temporary ownership

This is perhaps closest to the way in which I think of collars these days. I do not wish to be permanently owned by anyone – but I find enormous comfort, meaning, and hotness in giving “ownership” over me to my partner for a limited amount of time (usually a scene, sometimes an afternoon or day, occasionally up to a weekend). In this type of non-24/7 D/s dynamic, the collar serves as a symbol of going into and then back out of that headspace. When it goes on, I am his property. When it comes off, I am me again.

Connection and closeness

I heard this one a lot from people in long-distance relationships when I threw this question out on Twitter. Wearing a collar can symbolise closeness and connection to your partner, and even a sense of being “with” them while apart.

Consideration or training

There’s a certain school of thought on collaring that has submissives wear a “training collar” or “collar of consideration” for a period of time before being formally taken on as a submissive (at which time they would receive a permanent collar). Many people who view collars in this way describe a collar of consideration as the D/s equivalent of an engagement ring, and the permanent collar as the wedding ring.

A way to get into a headspace

When Mr CK and I go to an event together where I’ll be in the submissive role, often one of the first things he’ll do on arrival is put my collar on me. Kneeling in front of him (or even standing with my head bowed and moving my hair out of the way) while he puts it on is an almost instant subspace trigger for me. This seems to be a pretty common experience – with the collar, you also “put on” a certain role or headspace. Similarly, a pet play enthusiast on Twitter told me that putting on their collar is how they quickly access their “pup” headspace.

Leave me alone, I’m taken!

When I was in a 24/7 D/s relationship, my partner rarely came to events with me. As such, I was usually attending with friends without a partner in tow. Often, I’d be the only person not visibly partnered in our group. So wearing my collar was an easy way to signal “not available!” It worked… sort of. I definitely got significantly less unwanted attention when wearing it (and yes, I did an experiment). Unfortunately, it also led to some comments implying that if he wasn’t physically with me, I was available for any random Dom who took a fancy to me.

Nothing, it’s a tool like any other!

This is the version Mr CK most closely ascribes to. In this schema, a collar is there for what it can do rather than what it means. For example, he’s had me wear an anal hook to an event and then fastened this with rope to the back of my collar. He’s also clipped my cuffed hands to the ring at the front of my collar to immobilise me. There are dozens of ways that a collar can simply be of practical use as part of a bigger scene.

Nothing, it’s just for decoration!

Collars look pretty! I have one that, though I adore it, doesn’t have any particular meaning as part of a relationship (it was given to me as a freebie to review). I sometimes wear it out and about, just because I think it looks pretty, complements my outfit, or subtly flags me as kinky. Which brings me on to…

Flagging kinky in public

“Flagging” originates from the “hanky code” of the 1970s US gay and bi male scene, where coloured handkerchiefs placed in certain positions indicated interest in various sexual practices. Thus, it refers to using outward symbols to subtly indicate your proclivities to other interested parties. There are any number of events where it’s safe to assume many of the participants will also be kinky, but not all of them will be. (Think gay and bisexual community events, goth clubs, geek/sci-fi events, Renaissance Fairs and so on). For me, wearing my collar signals that I am a kinkster and invites other kinksters to come and make friends.

Do you wear a collar, or does your partner? What does it mean to you? Comment below or tweet me – this topic is so fascinating to me in sheer variety alone.

The Taboo Brighton Logo

This post was sponsored by the good folks at Taboo Brighton. Taboo launched in 2003 and has established itself as a genre-defining Brighton retail experience, winner of the “Best Sex Shop in the UK” at the Erotic Trade Awards and once described in The Guardian as the “Dolce and Gabbana of Sex Shops”. It has also featured on many TV shows including C4’s Sugar Rush, The Sex Inspectors and the forthcoming documentary The Family Sex Shop Business. I love checking out Taboo whenever I make it down to Brighton, but you can browse and shop their whole extensive collection online. All views are, as always, my own. 

[Kink Product Review] Three Mini Reviews: Cuffs, Rope, Paddle

It’s no secret to my readers that I love small, independent, women-owned-and-run businesses, especially when they sell exclusively body-safe adult products. That’s why I am proud to be an affiliate of The Pleasure Garden Shop, a homegrown (pun intended) online feminist sex shop right here in the UK.

I must first apologise for the delay in getting these reviews out – my health (physical and mental) have taken a nosedive since the beginning of the year and Mr CK has been unwell too. As such I am woefully behind on testing and writing about everything! But no matter – we’re here now.

I was really excited when Francesca, owner of The Pleasure Garden (who I interviewed recently!) reached out and suggested a series of mini-reviews of kinky products that might appeal to people looking to explore BDSM for the first time, along with some handy tricks and tips on using them safely. This is the first of such a series – let’s take a look at what was in my very exciting parcel when it arrived…

Bound Noir Slim Wrist Cuffs

People who have seen me getting my sexy on will know that I kink super hard for leather. (Yes, I know, as a vegetarian this makes me a horrible hypocrite – don’t @ me!) Good quality leather also tends to be expensive, which is probably why I don’t own that much of it.

Bound Noir black leather cuffs

So the Bound Noir Slim Wrist Cuffs had me squeeing for joy! Not only are they super stylish, made of soft black leather with gold coloured metal accents, they’re also an absolute steal at £32.99. I’ve seen leather cuff sets go for £100+, but there’s no need to spend that much when these are so good! They come with a removable connecting chain with clips at either end, and each cuff has two D-rings – so lots of ways to fasten your sub to something (or to themselves) should you desire.

Bound Noir black wrist cuffs on anonymous hands

These cuffs feel super luxurious to wear. The leather is really soft and supple, and just gets softer with use as you break them in. I’ve worn them for well over an hour before, including in a session where my wrists were above my head. They remained comfortable the whole time. The gold accents give an elegant feel. The perfect accessory for any sexy outfit!

Bound Noir black wrist cuffs on anonymous female hands

They’re super adjustable. They have 5 notches, and there’s no reason you couldn’t get an extra one put in if you wanted to. (Take them to a professional leather worker, you could ruin them if you try it yourself!) The adjustability means they’ll work on most bodies. I have tiny wrists so I use them on the tightest setting. But I’ve also used them on people with much bigger hands/wrists than me with no problems at all.

Leather Wrist Cuffs Tips & Tricks…

Bound Noir black leather wrist cuffs on anonymous female hands
  • Experiment with different positions. Not everything will be comfy for everyone. Clip your partner’s hands together behind their back, hook their arms around the bedpost, tie their hands to something above their head.
  • Pair with a set of ankle cuffs and a 4-way hogtie for more complete immobilisation.
  • Cuffs should be loose enough that you can slip 1-2 fingers between the cuff and the skin, but tight enough so your partner cannot wiggle free. Experiment with different settings and check regularly. If there is any numbness, tingling or pins and needles in the hands, take the cuffs off IMMEDIATELY.
  • Never, EVER leave a bound person alone.
  • Store your cuffs flat, not fastened – the leather will degrade quicker if you store them closed.

Bound to Please Hemp Bondage Rope

Ask any rope bondage aficionado about their favourite type of rope, and you’ll get wildly different – but equally passionate – answers. We all have our favourites. I’ve always been a jute fan; I love the smell of it, the feel of it and the way it handles. But hemp is also a really popular choice. So I was delighted to try out this hemp bondage rope from Bound To Please.

Hemp rope coiled

This rope comes in 10 metre lengths and 5mm width. I believe this is the most ideal rope thickness for most bondage – any thicker and it starts looking bulkier and less elegant, any thinner and it starts to make ties more painful due to the way thinner ropes cut against the skin. (Not necessarily a bad thing if you like pain, but I don’t suggest tying with anything below 5mm until you’re experienced!) Each length costs £12.99.

“How much rope should I buy?” is always a question beginners ask me. It depends on a number of things, including types of ties and the size of the bottom. If you eventually want to move on to complex ties and suspensions, you’ll need more. If all you want to do is tie your partner to the bed for sex, you can get away with a couple of lengths. As a rough guide, for a TK (Takate Kote or Box Tie, the first formal harness tie most riggers learn) you’ll need 3 lengths and possibly 4 lengths for larger bodies. (If your partner is very petite, you might get away with 2.)

(I should just write a Big Guide to Choosing Rope, shouldn’t I? Okay, coming up…)

Anonymous leg tied in a futomomo with hemp rope

The thing I really love about natural fibre ropes, and especially hemp, is the smell. Hemp rope has this slightly undefinable sweet/woody smell and it’s gorgeous. I love tying in a room full of rope enthusiasts because the mix of natural fibres, bodies and sex in the air is just so intoxicating. Natural fibre ropes also get softer and smoother with use, as they are handled and absorb the natural oils from your skin.

Yes, I LOVE this rope!

Rope Tips & Tricks…

Close up of part of a futomomo in hemp rope on anonymous leg
  • Firstly and most importantly, always – ALWAYS – keep a cutting tool to hand. The safest and best tool is a pair of EMT shears, like this, which you can by for a few quid on Amazon or from a medical supplies store.
  • Suspension looks cool and is great fun, but it is NOT the be-all, end-all. It is also very dangerous if not done properly. Gain proficiency in floor-work before you even think about suspending, and then do it under the tuition of an experienced rigger. Bottoms, this applies to you too – don’t ask someone to suspend you when you’ve never even worn a basic chest harness before.
  • Rope is for everyone! No matter the size of your body or your ability level, you can do rope if you want to. Listen to your body and be prepared to adjust.
  • Get some lessons! Rope bondage is inherently risky, and can be dangerous if not done properly. If you’re really lucky, there might be a rope studio near you. Otherwise, see if there’s a Peer Rope event in your area (these are usually listed on Fetlife) or find a trusted private tutor.
  • Check out some instructional Youtube videos. Ask in your local community or on Fetlife for recommendations, as not all teachers are created equal.
  • Get a book, such as Shibari You Can Use or Showing You the Ropes.
  • Learn about the safe areas of the body to tie. This is a great and thorough guide to bondage safety.
  • Rope can be a scene in itself. “Tie them up and fuck them” is great if that’s your thing, but don’t discount the possibility of rope for the sake of rope. Some of my most amazing scenes have been rope and nothing else.
  • To keep your rope in the best condition, coil it and put it away as soon as you can after a session.
  • This is worth reiterating: NEVER leave a bound person alone!

Bound to Please Silicone Paddle

I’d never used a silicone paddle before, so the Bound To Please Silicone Paddle was an exciting new addition to my impact play collection. It measures 41cm long by 6cm wide and is nice and light to handle. Silicone is super easy to clean and sterilise (just chuck it in boiling water or use a body-safe medical wipe), and as it contains no animal derived materials is suitable for vegetarians and vegans.

BLack silicone paddle

I tested this one out with The Artist. From what I recall, my reaction to it was a string of profanity, followed by tears (because it hurt so fucking much, y’all). Due to the density of the silicone and the slender design, what feels like a relatively light stroke to the Top can deliver a hell of a sting to the bottom.

This thing is fucking vicious.

SIlicone paddle

I absolutely adore this paddle. But I am an experienced bottom and have been doing impact play for well over a decade at this point. Unless you have a high pain tolerance and a very clear idea of your body’s capabilities and limits, I cannot recommend this paddle to a beginner.

A wide leather paddle or a paddle that is padded on one side are great options for a gentler start for complete beginners! If you’re feeling brave enough to try this fucker, it retails for a very affordable £24.99.

Paddle Tips & Tricks…

Black silicone paddle in anoymous hand
  • Start slowly. People can take more impact if you build up gradually rather than just whack them at full force straight away!
  • Remember that the goal isn’t “take as much as you possibly can”. The goal is for both of you to have fun and get something out of the session.
  • Get clear about what kind of scene you want and what impact play means to you. Playing with punishment is hot to some people, and emotionally painful for others. “Teacher spanking a naughty student” roleplay is a VERY different scene to “I’ve had a terrible week and need you to spank me until I cry“, even though both might superficially look similar.
  • Learn the safe areas of the body to hit. Upper back and butt = good. Thighs, chest and genitals = yes if you’re careful. Face, head, joins, spine, lower back and neck = absolutely not.
  • Making your partner count the strokes and/or ask you for them can be super hot. Try phrases like, “Thank you Sir/Miss, may I have another?”

Other recommendations for your beginner kit…

When you’re just starting out in kink, you don’t necessarily want to spend a fortune on kit – especially before you’ve fully worked out what you like! Exactly what you prioritise spending your money on will, of course, depend on your interests. But here’s a few things I think you should consider for your basic all-purpose kink kit…

Thank you to Francesca at The Pleasure Garden for sending me these items to review. Please check out the affiliate links in this post – by buying from The Pleasure Garden, you’ll be supporting a small woman-owned business as well as sending a little commission my way to help me keep doing what I’m doing. All views are, as always, my own.

Yes, I Have a Problem with Fifty Shades… But It’s Not What You Think

It’s actually more accurate to say I have several problems with Fifty Shades of Grey, the infamous erotic trilogy (plus rewrites-with-the-pronouns-flipped) about the kinky-ish love between naive college student Anastasia Steele and young handsome billionaire  Christian Grey.

A block of grey paint samples in reference to Fifty Shades of GreyYes, I’ve read the first book, and enough of the second and third to get the gist. I’ve also read Cliff Pervocracy and Jenny Trout’s recaps (which are hilarious, by the way). Make no mistake: these books are horribly written and I did not find them erotic in the slightest. The sex depicted in them is either boringly vanilla, dubiously consensual (or straight up rapey), or both. The main characters are both awful people and the dialogue is about as sexy as a root canal. As a kinkster, I hate that people think this is what we’re about. As a writer, I think it’s a travesty that Ms James has made more money than anyone ever needs in a lifetime, while genuinely talented artists are underpaid and undervalued every day.

So yes. I have issues with this book. But they’re not that it’s an unrealistic kinky romance between a virginal college student and a vampire billionaire.

“But it’s fantasy!” fans cry.

And yes. It is. Look, I’ll be the last person to tell you that you can’t have your fantasies, even your problematic ones. Fantasy is not reality and fantasy exists to enable us to escape from the real world for a while. And nowhere is that more true than in sexual fantasy.

A huge part of the reason that erotica and porn should only be accessed by adults is that adults, typically, understand the difference between fantasy and reality. Jaime Mortimer wrote a really good post on this recently.

I’m not going to infantilise everyone who reads Fifty Shades or any other problematic book and tell you that it’s going to turn you into a rapist or make you leave your husband for an emotionally stunted billionare (or a vampire in a Volvo). I read plenty of erotic fiction and plenty of it has themes that would be super problematic if they were real – doctor/patient scenarios, professor/student scenarios, consensual-non-consent roleplay, voyeurism and exhibitionism, public sex and more are just some of the themes I’ve enjoyed in my sexy fiction.

Guess what? Fantasy. And again: adults, overall, have the capability to understand the difference between fantasy and reality.

So enjoy Fifty Shades, if it’s your thing, as a fantasy about a naive young woman being seduced by an dude with more money than God and pants that hang from his hips (yes, this is an actual line in the book). Enjoy the light BDSM, the sexy  helicopter rides, the grumpy, brooding, damaged male lead if you want to. I’ll be the last person to judge you for enjoying some silly escapism or some improbable erotica if that’s what gets you off.

My problem with Fifty Shades is actually in the social and cultural narrative surrounding Fifty Shades.

Because this is not a great love story. This is not something to which young women should aspire! And the problem is that it’s being sold that way.

There is tonnes of erotica (and straight romantic fiction) out there that relies on problematic tropes and scenarios that are hot in fiction but would be a terrible idea in reality. That’s fine. Again: fantasy is cool, y’all!

But none of that has the marketing power behind it that Fifty Shades does. Ms James and her publishing team have made their collective fortunes not on selling Fifty Shades as fluffy erotic fantasy, but on selling Fifty Shades as a style of relationship to which we should all aspire.

And that is what is dangerous about this book. Not the fantasy it depicts, but the marketing power that sells that fantasy as genuinely aspirational. Because make no mistake, the relationship between Christian and Ana is very often abusive.

How many young women do you think have watched this movie, and decided that if this is romance, my boyfriend obviously only super jealous and controlling because he loves me? Or, Ana loves Christian out of abusing her, so if only I behaved better my husband would stop hitting me? Maybe not in quite so literal terms, but make no mistake – these messages are out there, and victims of abuse are listening and absorbing.

You might think this is hyperbole, but it’s not. This is the kind of power that massive marketing budgets, ingrained cultural narratives about love, and a total lack of sensible sex-and-relationships education has.

I don’t blame Fifty Shades for my own experience in an abusive D/s relationship, of course. But I do partly blame growing up surrounded by the idea that if a man hurt me, my job was to heal him so he could love me properly in the end.

Fifty Shades is far from the only story to suffer from this phenomenon

We have always built collective cultural narratives around these deeply problematic stories. I am reasonably confident in saying I doubt that Shakespeare intended Romeo & Juliet to be considered the greatest love story of all time. If you read it as a love story and analyse it for more than three seconds, it’s a ridiculous play. If you reread it as a satire about “love at first sight” and teenage stupidity, though, it becomes utterly brilliant. (While we’re at it, Wuthering Heights isn’t a great love story either. And Christian Grey bears a passing resemblence to Heathcliff in a variety of ways.)

Despite being for children, even Disney movies sell us some pretty horrible messages about relationships. Think about it: marriage is the ultimate goal for any girl. Once a man chooses you, you’ll live happily ever after.  Cinderella tells us to be good and subservient and pretty until a man rescues us; The Little Mermaid tells us that what we have to say is the least valuable thing about us; Sleeping Beauty suggests that kissing a sleeping stranger is totes a sensible and romantic thing to do… and so it goes on. We’re drip-fed these messages from earliest childhood, so is it really any wonder that so many of us grow up with totally screwed up ideas about what relationships are actually supposed to look like?

Don’t ban – educate

In closing: I don’t support the banning of Fifty Shades or other problematic stories. Fantasy is important and something we should all be able to have access to. Instead, we need a greater cultural understanding and greater education around separating fantasy from reality, and understanding what healthy relationships actually are.

I’d be much happier with the thousands and thousands of twenty-something women enjoying Fifty Shades as sexy, escapist fantasy if they weren’t already surrounded by a culture that teaches them if he hits you, it’s your job to be better so he can heal from his fucked up past.

Masturbation Monday: “On the Prowl”

A "support me on Patreon" buttonThis is an experimental piece, unlike the erotica I usually write. Let me know in the comments what you think! And if you love my work, please consider supporting me on Patreon to get some bonus content and awesome perks.

A pair of black cat ears on a headband. For a Masturbation Monday post called On The Prowl

She is on the prowl tonight. The black latex clings to every inch of her perfect body, the heels of her boots are spikes to crush anyone who gets in her way. The cat ears could be considered cute on someone else, but she will eat you alive if you call her cute.

She’s in the mood to fuck tonight. Not to get fucked; no. Tonight she wields the cock and you will submit.

She’ll extend a long finger, her nail a perfect pointed claw the colour of blood, and from across the room you’ll feel that nail and her gaze pierce you. You. She has chosen you, and she knows you will follow. That finger beckons you, and you come. The heat of the bodies and the thump of the music swells as she draws you in, close enough to feel the heat of her breath on your lips, close enough to see yourself reflected back in those startling feline eyes. She’s assessing you; will you pass? You must choose, in this moment, to obey or not. If you don’t, she will have no hesitance in casting you aside with a flick of her tail and seeking a more suitable worshiper.

Satisfied, she grants you a single nod of approval. You lap it up as though you are starving. She will not allow you to touch her. You have not earned that right. Your hands must stay obediently at your sides, a test of your willpower and devotion.

Later, you will find yourself prostrate on her bed in submission as she slides in and out of you. You revel in the gentle hiss of her breath at the exertion. She revels in the sheen of sweat glistening upon your back as you take her in. She might reach beneath you to wrap her claws around your longing cock – if you’re lucky. More likely she will simply use you, take what she wants and ignore your aching need, and you will adore her all the more for it. You are here, after all, to serve her.

Tonight she is on the prowl, and her hunt will be rewarded.

Masturbation Monday is created and owned by Kayla Lords. Click the logo to see what’s getting everyone off this week.

If you enjoyed this story, there’s bonus erotic fiction with #BonusSmutTuesday plus other fun perks every single week at my Patreon page.

Image is by me.

Masturbation Monday: “Tired”

A painting of two women close up, the front one wearing a black collar. For a masturbation Monday post called TIred.“I’m so tired.”

“I know, Sweetheart.”

My poor girl. She’s worked so many hours this week and I know her mental health is kicking her ass too. Tonight is all about her – I’ve made her favourite dinner, and now we’re sharing a bottle of wine and watching a silly comedy show. I might be her Dom (don’t fucking call me a Domme, ever) but to me, that means taking care of her is the most important job I have.

She snuggles up to me on the couch, resting her head in my lap. “Miss?”

I brush a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “Mmm?”

“Could I have a spanking? I think it would help.”

I think about it for a moment. Does it feel safe to play with her when she’s in this vulnerable space? But she’s an adult and she knows what she needs. We both say that kink isn’t therapy, but it can be therapeutic. I look at her adorable, exhausted face and I feel like I know exactly what type of session she needs.

“Of course, darling. Get your sexy butt over my lap”.

She stands and wriggles out of her jeans, then tosses her boy-short knickers aside too. I love the way she looks in just a t-shirt, naked from the waist down. She crawls up beside me on the sofa and positions herself over my lap.

I run a hand over her ass and watch her tremble. I give her a couple of very gentle swats to warm her up. The goal of this spanking isn’t to hurt her, but to give her the catharsis and emotional safety she needs. I spank her a little harder, first one cheek then the other, and watch her perfect pert ass jiggle. She moans, lifting her ass up to meet the blows, and I know I’ve found the sweet spot.

“That’s my good girl,” I tell her, pausing to stroke her lower back. I up the intensity again, just a little. “Such a good girl, taking her spanking for me”. She lets out a noise that might be a moan of pleasure or might be a purr of contentment at the praise. I choose to read it as both and continue my rhythmic slapping of her ass.

She’s squirming on my lap now, and I can smell her arousal. God, I love the smell of her cunt when she’s turned on. I contemplate reaching between her legs to finger her, but decide to let her squirm for a little while longer.

Her ass is looking nice and red. “My good, brave girl,” I tell her. And she is. I’m so proud of her. This might seem like a weird way to show it, but my dominance and her submission is how love is expressed between us.

My right hand keeps up the spanking, first one ass cheek then the other. My left slips under her and finds her cunt. She’s dripping. I knew she would be. I stroke the soft, wet folds of her labia, teasing her, and run my fingers through her curly patch of pubic hair. Her wriggling on my lap intensifies. She mewls when I brush her clit, which is very erect. I begin to rub it in circles in the way I know she likes. Her moans and whimpers are music to my ears.

“My beautiful little slut,” I murmur, rubbing her harder. She can’t control her reactions, and knowing this gets me as wet as she is. I love reducing her to a squirmy, wet mess with just my hands and my voice.

“Miss…” she gasps. I spank each butt cheek again while my fingers continue their dance on her clit.

“Yes?” I prompt.

“Miss, please can I come?”

She asks for permission, because it turns us both on, but she knows that I usually give it. Seeing her come is one of my favourite things in the whole world. Plus, usually allowing her makes it much sweeter and less predictable when I do deny her and edge her for a few days without release.

“Yes, my girl, you can come.”

My word is all she needs. She gushes, soaking my hand and the lap of my jeans. She cries out as she comes. When she collapses, spent, I see that there is a single tear on her cheek. I know I have given her the emotional release she needed.

I stroke her hair. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed. My tired girl needs her rest.”

Masturbation Monday is created and owned by Kayla Lords. Click the logo to see what’s getting everyone off this week.

If you enjoyed this story, you can get bonus erotic fiction with #BonusSmutTuesday plus other fun perks every single week by signing up to my Patreon page at any level.

Image sourced through Pixabay.

 

Masturbation Monday: “The Patterned Carpet”

A black and white photo of a naked woman kneeling on a patterned carpet about to take a clothed man's cock into her mouthThe patterned carpet is rough against my knees. When I put my just-above-the-knee dress back on, will everyone see the redness there and know exactly what I’ve been up to? Will they think I’m a slut? Do I care if they do?

My thoughts are silenced at the sight of his cock springing, already fully erect, from his unbuttoned jeans. This is what I’ve been wanting all night, and he knows it. When he brought me out here to this deserted corridor, told me to take off my dress and pushed me down on my knees, he was in no doubt that it was exactly what I wanted.

I lick my lips and part them eagerly, wordlessly inviting him to fuck my mouth. He takes his cock into his hand and holds it towards my waiting lips, offering it to me.

“Come and get it then, girl.”

I take him all the way into my mouth in one swift movement. It’s been a while since I sucked a cock, especially one as magnificent as this. But muscle memory is powerful and he moans loudly as his head hits the back of my throat. I slide my mouth up and down on him, sometimes deepthroating as far as I can go, sometimes pulling most of the way back and teasing the head of his shaft with my tongue.

I close my eyes and surrender to the taste of him, the salty pre-cum that begins to drip onto my tongue, the surprising softness of his rock-hard erection. Nothing matters except getting him off. I can tell when he’s getting close, because he grabs the back of my head to hold me in place. To hold is cock in the back of my throat. I gag, but he doesn’t care. Good. I don’t want him to care. I want to be a vessel for his cock, thoughtless and blank, naked before him for his use.

He gasps and then, with a long moan, releases down my throat. I revel in the taste of hot, sticky, salty come. When he eventually releases me, satisfied, I pull back and  some of it drips from my mouth and down my chin. I catch it with a finger and suck the finger clean, needing to taste every drop of him.

He buttons his jeans and  leaves me there on the floor, patterned carpet burning my bare knees, my cunt and inner thighs slick with my arousal. And I am satiated.

Masturbation Monday is created and owned by Kayla Lords. Click the logo to see what’s getting everyone off this week.

If you enjoyed this story, you can get bonus erotic fiction with #BonusSmutTuesday plus other fun perks every single week by signing up to my Patreon page at any level.

Image is by Zen Nudist AKA Kilted Wookie, and was first published here.

 

Masturbation Monday: “Words Words Words”

A woman's breast just out of the water in a bubble bath with erotic words written on it.There aren’t many rules in our dynamic. My Sir is pretty laid back and isn’t really interested in micromanaging me or placing so many restrictions upon me that I’m bound to trip over one or another. One of the rules I do have to follow, though, is this: I’m not allowed to talk negatively about myself.

I’m so sick of this fucking thesis. I’ve been battling it for weeks and every time I think I’ve beaten it into some form of shape, I find something else wrong with it that needs fixing. I sigh and shut my laptop with a click. Put my head in my hands on the desk. Across the room, Sir spins around in his chair to look at me.

“You okay, Kitten?”

“I can’t do this!” I blurt out. “Just… I can’t. I’m too fucking stupid to do this. Why did I think I could?” Fuck. It takes me a second to realise I’ve broken the rule.

“Kitten…” his voice has a note of warning in it. I almost no longer care.

“What? It’s true”.

He pushes back from the desk and stands. “Come upstairs with me. Now”. Shit. I follow him meekly. In the bedroom, he tells me to take off my clothes and lie face up on the bed. My mind starts to race as I strip off. What’s he going to do? I was expecting possibly a spanking, but he clearly has something else in mind. That’s when I notice he’s got his favourite fountain pen in his hand.

He straddles me on the bed, his knees either side of my thighs. He’s still fully dressed. He pops the cap off the pen.

“Keep still,” he tells me.

“Sir?”

“I’m sick of you putting yourself down. Obviously punishing you hasn’t worked, so we’re going to try something else. Don’t move. If you squirm and make me mess up, I will punish you”.

The pen makes contact with my stomach first, just below my belly button. It tickles. I squeak but manage not to move. He’s writing something. I can’t tell what. Higher up my stomach, he writes something else. Then he leans over and adorns each of my breasts with yet more words. Down both my arms, along my collarbone, along the tops of my thighs.

He shifts position and uses one of his legs to make me spread mine. I resist the temptation to grind my cunt into his knee. His hand so close to my cunt that it brushes against the outer lips, I can feel myself growing wet. He writes something on my inner thigh. And just like that, this tiny bit of non-stimulation is all I get and he’s pushed my legs back together and is writing something on my lower abdomen. The whole thing probably takes less than five minutes, though it feels like much longer. He sits back and replaces the pen cap.

“Now go and look in the mirror”.

I hop up and cross over to the full-length mirror in the wardrobe door. For the first time, I see the words he’s written all over my body in his beautiful handwriting.

Beautiful. Capable and competent. Imperfect perfection. Talented. Kind. Funny. Sexy. Cute. Gorgeous. Smart. I feel tears starting to prickle in my eyes.

I part my legs to see what he wrote on my inner thigh, close to my cunt. The word is backwards in the reflection but there is no mistaking what it says, his favourite of all the words he uses about me: MINE. The first tear spills over.

He comes over and brushes the tear from my cheek. “Don’t cry, Kitten. You’re going to stand there for fifteen minutes and feast your eyes upon your gorgeous body with the way I see you written all over it. Then I’m going to bend you over and fuck you while you read them all back to me”.

Masturbation Monday is created and owned by Kayla Lords. Click the logo to see what’s getting everyone off this week. Featured image is the utterly gorgeous Livvy and was first published as “Erotica“.

If you enjoyed this story, you can get bonus erotic fiction with #BonusSmutTuesday plus other fun perks every single week by signing up to my Patreon page at any level.

 

Masturbation Monday: “Canvas”

A woman with a flower tattoo on her back facing away from the camera. For a Masturbation Monday story called CanvasShe was his canvas.

Anna lay, nude, face down on the massage-bed. The whir and buzz of the machinery had long ago lulled her into a meditative state. This, combined with the delicious pain down one side of her back and the occasional reassuring touches from her Master, made Anna feel as though she were floating. She was only dimly aware, on the edges of her consciousness, that she was so wet she was surely soaking the towels beneath her.

She had never wanted a tattoo before she met Cameron. Sure, she could admire the beauty and artistry when she saw them on other people, but the idea of getting one herself scared her. Not the pain, so much, but the permanence. Could etching something on her skin for life ever be a good idea? Cam had changed all that. Not just a tattooist but a true artist, he prided himself on creating beautiful, unique work for every client and giving them something they could look at and admire for years to come.

“I want you to tattoo me,” she told him on the eve of her fortieth birthday. “For my birthday.”

Cam had pursed his lips, fork hovering in mid air on the way to his mouth in surprise. “Are you sure?” he’d asked. She nodded emphatically. “Okay. What sort of tattoo do you want?”

“Something beautiful. Something us. I want it to mark me as yours.”

Cam had simply nodded, and they had gone on with their meal. This morning, she had come downstairs to find the massage bed laid out in the living room, and Cam setting up his equipment. He’d asked her if she was sure. She told him she had never been more sure of anything.

She wondered what he – her Dom, her Master, her Love – was putting on her body.

No names, she’d said emphatically. And nothing that I can’t show off in public if we go to the beach or the pool. Beyond those stipulations, she’d given him freedom – her body to use as his canvas.

The whirring slowed and stopped. Pausing from his work, Cam stroked a hand down the middle of Anna’s back, carefully avoiding his fresh handiwork. She drew in her breath.

“How are you doing, my love?” he asked her.

“I’m perfect,” she whispered back.

“There’s still an hour or two of work to finish it off. But you’re being such a good girl, you deserve a treat first.” His hand was rubbing her arse as he said these words. He delivered a sharp smack to each cheek, making her squeal in pleasurable pain. Then his fingers were sliding down past her arse, between her legs, pushing them slightly apart. She blushed furiously, thankful he could not see her face, knowing what he was going to find.

“You’re dripping,” he said, a note of surprise in his voice, as his fingers found the core of her arousal. “Why is that, slut?”

“I like the pain. And you putting your permanent mark on me. And…” she trailed off as one finger slid inside her cunt. He quickly found her G-spot and pressed against it firmly, while his thumb found her erect clitoris and started to circle it. Anna gasped and lifted her hips eagerly from the table to meet his fingers.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” he murmured, rubbing her clit a little more firmly. “Plenty of the women I tattoo get aroused during. And the men, too.” She moaned, this thought producing another flood of wetness in her cunt. “Only I don’t do this to them, of course. But I can always spot which ones are the masochists. The ones who get all gooey eyed and floaty like you were doing just now. And I know they’ll go home and wank off furiously when I’m done with them.”

She was humping his hand with abandon now. A second finger joined the first in her vagina, while his thumb continued its assault of her now very swollen clit.

“Sir, I’m close…” she moaned. Cam grinned, wondering for just a second whether he should stop and do the rest of the tattoo while she tried not to squirm with unfulfilled arousal. But she was such a good girl, and this was a special occasion.

“Come on then, girl,” he commanded, redoubling his efforts. Then he leaned forward and murmured into her ear, “come for me, my love.”

Anna’s whole body jerked as she came, gushing over Cam’s hand and soaking through the towels beneath her. The sound she made was half mewl, half growl. Then her Master was withdrawing his fingers from her, stroking her hair, telling her she was a good girl. Her cunt spasmed, sending aftershocks through her body. She could not remember the last time she had come so explosively and so quickly.

“Thank you, Sir,” she murmured.

She heard the buzz as Cam started up his tattoo machine again. “Lie still now, sweetheart, and let me finish decorating you.”

Masturbation Monday is created and owned by Kayla Lords. Click the logo to see what’s getting everyone off this week.

If you enjoyed this story, you can get bonus erotic fiction with #BonusSmutTuesday, every single week by signing up to my Patreon page at any level.

Image is by the gorgeous Marie Rebelle and was originally published as “Negative”.

 

My Scene Went Wrong, What Now? – A Guide to Getting Back on Track

A "support me on Patreon" buttonIf my writing is helpful and/or enjoyable to you, please consider supporting me on Patreon to help me keep doing this work!

Sometimes, play sessions or scenes will go wrong. Mishaps, mistakes, and even the occasional genuine crisis can happen to all of us. It’s an unfortunate fact of this thing we call kink, sex or play, and we would all do well to learn better how to handle it when they do. Anyone who has been playing for any length of time and tells you they’ve never had a scene go wrong is either astoundingly lucky or lying.

A woman turned away from the camera looking upset. For a post about scenes going wrongI’ve had three scenes go wrong in relatively quick succession (a period of about 3 weeks). The first time, the equipment we were using at the club malfunctioned and dropped me. Thanks to Mr CK’s quick reflexes, we were both shaken but there were no injuries. The second time, there was somebody else at the party who I hadn’t expected to see, and who makes me feel profoundly unsafe. I tried to play in the main party space anyway, thinking I shouldn’t let him ruin my good time, but unfortunately I badly misjudged my own mental state. The third time, I let my head convince me that a situation that was actually most likely completely safe wasn’t.

To be clear, none of these was a disaster (though the first could have resulted in much more serious consequences than it did). Even so, they were all unpleasant and left both of us rattled. The after-effects could be felt for the next few days, both individually and in our interactions together. Luckily, we managed to have a spectacular play session a few days ago and I feel much better about it all as a result.

So let’s look at some techniques to get things back on the rails after something goes wrong.

In the immediate aftermath

I’m assuming that, at this point, you’ve moved away from the play area to somewhere safe if possible, and that anyone who is injured has received appropriate medical attention. I am also assuming good faith from all parties and that there were no malicious intentions or consent violations.

First of all, both/all players involved are likely to be shaken up. This is a really good time to be very kind and gentle to both yourself and each other. Sit somewhere comfy. Drink a glass of water, cup of hot tea or other comforting beverage. Maybe have a snack to get your blood sugar back up. Have a massive fucking cuddle, if you’re in the kind of relationship where you cuddle.

Don’t beat yourself up. If the problem was because of a mistake you made, you can and should apologise, but one genuine apology is much better than self-flagellation. This should go without saying, but if there was fault on the other person’s side, don’t be mean to them about it! You can absolutely say what you perceive happened and what you wish they’d done differently, but don’t harp on it more than is necessary and try to gracefully accept an apology, if one is offered. Again: be kind. This is a great time to reaffirm that you still love/like/fancy the pants off each other.

Don’t feel the need to discuss what happened in depth there and then if you don’t want to. You can, if you’re both up for it, but it’s often better to focus on caring for yourselves and each other initially. The debrief is often more productive if it comes an hour or two later, or even the next day.

Later that day/the next day

Check in with the other person. Ask them how they’re doing and be prepared to offer what comfort or support you can. Be honest about how you’re doing and ask for their support in return.

This can be a great time to have the debrief conversation: you’re over the initial shock/upset, but still close enough to the incident to analyse it effectively. Discuss what went wrong, your respective headspaces (and physical states, if relevant) at the time, the factors that contributed, and what controls you’ll put in place to try to mitigate the risk of a similar incident next time. This is also a good time to discuss what you need in the aftermath: do you need some cuddle time, verbal reassurance, some hot sex? Or just some alone time to process? Ask for it! If you can, give your partner what they ask for.

When it comes to processing, if you’re struggling with difficult feelings following the experience, this is a great time to consult a kink-friendly therapist, reach out to other kinky friends, or write in your journal.

It’s also worth remembering that you might experience sub-drop or Dom-drop. Even though you didn’t finish your scene, when something goes wrong you’re yanked out of your headspace very quickly and abruptly, which can actually be worse. Check out my list of self-care tips to try if drop, depression or anxiety hits.

Try to view a scene gone wrong as a learning experience. It doesn’t need to spell disaster for your relationship, your future as a kinkster, or even necessarily your night/day/week!

Next time you play

Re-acclimating to your partner and your play together after a scene gone wrong can be a challenge. It’s a good idea, before you next play, to touch base with regards to where you’re both at emotionally and physically following your incident. It can also be wise to negotiate your next scene or two very explicitly in advance, especially if miscommunication or misunderstanding contributed to the problem. This also applies in very long term relationships where you know each other incredibly well. It’s not a failure to spell things out upfront if relying on your knowledge of each other and nonverbal cues doesn’t feel safe right now.

Sometimes, verbally affirming consent can be really reassuring the next time you play, too. Our first really good scene after the string of issues started with Mr CK asking me to very explicitly state my consent to what we were going to do.

You can also ease back in slowly! You don’t have to go straight to a 10 on the intensity scale if a 4 feels more comfortable right now. Even if you were hanging upside down from the rafters when something went awry, you can dial it back to a gentle spanking next time you play. The only thing that matters is that you play at a level that’s comfortable for you both. A less intense scene isn’t a failed scene. The only criteria for success is that you are both safe, gave free and enthusiastic consent, and had fun.

Final thoughts

There are basically three main things I want you to take away from this post. When a scene goes wrong, remember:

  1. Practice kindness, patience and forgiveness. To yourself as well as to your partner.
  2. It happens to everyone sometimes and does not mean you failed as a kinkster, Dom, sub or partner.
  3. You CAN move past it, learn from it, and use the experience to strengthen both your skills and your relationship.

And if you’re reading this because you went Googling in a panic after your scene went wrong? You’ve got this. I believe in you. It’s okay.