Kinky parents

So I got this email the other day that was truly trollerific.  But it wasn’t even the entertaining kind of trolling that I can post and publicly make fun of.  It was just all a drag.

But he did ask one question and bring up one point that was valid:

Hasnt becoming a parent changed who you are as a Dominatrix?  How can you claim to be in a 24/7 relationship unless your committing child abuse?  So your either a liar or a child abuser.

M’kay, so first of all, *you’re.

Secondly, stop saying “Dominatrix.”  I’m a Dominant.  Yes, I know they’re still technically the same thing, but the mental image conjured by each word is different.

It’s like the difference between “panties” and “underwear.”  They describe the same thing, but the mental image is very different.

And thirdly (and I know I’ve mentioned this before), BDSM is a kink.  It encompasses all the insanely fun and depraved things I love doing to my boys.

I know no one who reads this thinks I’m kinky 24/7.  My sex drive is high, but it’s not that high.

On the other hand, D/s refers specifically to a relationship dynamic.  Meaning it pertains exclusively to the way partners relate to one another and interact with one another within the strictures of their relationship.

In my relationships, I am in charge.  That doesn’t change when my kid is around.  It doesn’t change when the in-laws or friends are around.  It’s not a role I play or a costume I wear, it’s literally who I am and how I relate to people.

And it’s not abnormal in the slightest, just by the way.  Women having power within a relationship is not a new or strange thing.

In my mom’s southern family, the wife is always in charge, and when Grandma speaks, everyone shuts up and listens.

And especially in the Mexican side of my family, no one ever fucks with the matriarch. You never want a Latina bitch mad at you, m’kay.  And when you’re married to one, and you live with her and she knows where you sleep, you do what the fuck you’re told.

I’ve spent enough time with my Mexican cousins.  They never discipline their kids (like, at all), but they damn sure have their husbands well-trained.

The point is that having an unbalanced power dynamic in a relationship is not “new” or “kinky.”  It’s completely mainstream for the woman in any given relationship to have more power within the relationship itself.  My relationships just take that to a slightly higher level.

But there’s this habit a lot of people not in D/s relationships tend to do, and that’s to assume that real life is the same as the Femdom porn videos you see online.

Like, do you honestly think I’m just having nonstop orgies in front of my kid, and that’s all there is to a FemDom relationship?

Uh, no.  It’s a relationship.  It, like all relationships, requires work.  Compromise.  Give and take.  Honest, open communication.

There are bills to pay.  Errands to run.  Groceries to buy.  A house to maintain.  Sometimes shit happens that interferes with my kink life.

Reality is not a porno, y’all.  I don’t make Kazander strip down to his panties and stay on all fours as soon as he gets home from work.  I don’t do anything kinky in front of my kid.

Because she’s six.

And even if she was old enough to mentally handle something like that, just ew.  I can’t think of anything more uncomfortable than my daughter being that knowledgeable about my sex life.

What I do with her father, behind closed doors, is none of anyone’s business, including hers.

But my relationship dynamic?  I don’t hide that, because there’s nothing to hide.  She knows Mommy is the one in charge.  She knows Mommy is the one who makes the decisions, and she knows not to fuck with Mommy.

She also knows that I treat Kazander with respect, and I listen when he speaks.  She knows that love and happiness are not things you have, but things you do.  It takes work.

Creating a submissive mindset

One of the things I’ve been asked most often by inexperienced Dominant women is how to create a submissive headspace in their partner.

And yeah, it can be tough.  Real life and its responsibilities can make things difficult, and put a sub’s headspace far from where it should be.

The best way, in my experience, is to appeal to the sub’s lust and desire, and combine that with surprise and humiliation.  This combination creates a firm reminder of his position in the relationship, and the surprise is to jar his head a bit, to break the hold that the real-world bullshit has on him.

Interestingly enough, I was just talking today about something I’ve done to surprise and alter my boys’ headspace, so I figured I’d do it again tonight.

Kazander’s had a rough couple of weeks at work.  Like, rough enough that he may start looking for a new job.  And rough enough that trying to achieve a submissive headspace when he gets home takes a lot of effort.

There are a number of ways to combat this.  But one of the most effective is one of the simplest.  You can’t do it often, or it’ll lose some of the effectiveness, but when it’s done right, it works wonders.

I told him to text me when he was on his way home from work.  As soon as I got his text, I took the kid next door and left her with the SIL, who had agreed to watch her for a few minutes.

Then I grabbed my strap-on.

I was standing there, with the strap-on harness on and lube in hand, when he walked in the door.

I’ve done this to him before, but not for a long time, so he was sufficiently surprised.  After a long day, it was the last thing he expected.

Without a word, I grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.  I bent him over the back of the couch and reached around to unbutton his pants.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” he said.  He’d just gotten home from a long day in a warehouse with no climate control.

But honestly, I don’t care.  So what if it’s a little dirty?  There’s this new invention out, brand spanking new, just hit the market today.

It’s called soap.  And indoor plumbing.

And I felt like objectifying him just then.

“Shut up,” I told him, pulling his jeans down and exposing his ass.  And as soon as I did, his lust took over (I know, it doesn’t take much).  When he felt my hands on his thighs, he moaned softly and pushed his ass out, wanting to be fucked.

Such an eager anal slut.

I didn’t say anything as I started pounding him.  In that moment, he wasn’t a man, he wasn’t a person.  He was just a hole for me to take my enjoyment from, and I wanted to make sure he knew it.

The play didn’t last long.  It didn’t have to.  After I’d had my fill of fucking him, I pulled out, spanked him once, then just walked away and left him there with his pants around his ankles.

He sighed and pulled up his pants, his headspace firmly where I wanted it, the rough day at work forgotten.  After we’d cleaned up, he dropped to his knees behind me and asked to kiss my ass and my feet before we went to get the kid.

All in all, it lasted barely twenty minutes.  And he was in a much more relaxed and submissive state of mind the entire night.  Just twenty minutes, that’s all it took.

It’s so simple, but so effective.

King of the castle

I’m a heterosexual submissive woman who has always been simultaneously turned off and fascinated by submissive men, and I was hoping you could maybe shed some light on them, and why you’re attracted to them.

For me, I’m turned on when I see a man in all his glory, strong, powerful, and in control.  It’s so hot knowing that he has that strength in him.

And it feels so secure knowing that he has everything.  That he can handle everything.  All I need to do is trust him and do what he says and everything will be alright.

I’m a strong woman.  I love the quote “Don’t look for a princess in need of saving.  Look for a queen willing to fight by your side.”  I could never take a weak man seriously.  I need a strong man.  It takes a King to rule me.  Nothing less.

I couldn’t imagine a relationship with a man who isn’t capable of handling me.

But I’ve talked to a couple of submissive men and I’m wondering if maybe I’m way off base here and there’s like this whole element I’m missing.  Am I missing anything here?

What is it about submissive men that you find attractive?  Why do you prefer them over a good Dominant man?

Haven’t you ever just wanted to relax and let someone else take the lead?

No.

No I have not.

I’m guessing you’re a new-ish reader.  Welcome to the blog, and thank you for writing.

But I have to ask…  Did you happen to notice those tabs there on the left?  At the top of the side bar?

Does no one read anymore?

You want to know what I love about submissive men?  That link is a good start.

As turned off as you are by submissive men, multiply that by a few thousand and you’ll begin to hold a candle to a fraction of how I feel about most Dominant men.

They don’t just turn me off.  They literally repulse me.  Whenever a guy starts to get all “Domly” with me, it makes my skin crawl.  Even thinking about it makes me cringe.

Sounder once described a conversation with a Dom douchebag, who told him,”The king gets to fuck the queen, and all you get to do is lie at her feet.”

His response was, “Any weak, self-absorbed asshole can fuck someone.  But to protect and serve a queen requires actual strength and fortitude.”

Now, don’t get me wrong.  You’re into Dominant men.  What turns me off to them probably turns you on.  You and I are apparently on complete opposite sides of the spectrum.

And that’s fine.  That’s the kind of man you want, that’s the kind of relationship you want, and more power to you.  It’s all about what makes you happy.  You seem to know what makes you happy, and that’s a good thing.

But you’ll have to forgive me for raising an eyebrow or two as I read this.

First of all, regarding weak men.  There is nothing wrong with weak men.  Not everyone can be a hero.  Not everyone has that strength of spirit.  I have loved my fair share of weak men, and there’s just something so guileless and trusting and vulnerable in the way they love.  It’s unique to them, and they have their place.  They’re beautiful, their weakness is beautiful.

But I know you don’t think all submissive men are weak (or that all weak men are submissive.  I can list a terrifying number of weak “Doms”).

You’re a submissive and you claim you’re a strong person.  I believe you.  My reasons for believing you, despite the fact that I don’t know you, bear a post of their own, but for now, we’ll just simplify it and say I fully believe you are a strong person.

If you’re a submissive, and a strong person, why would you think that wouldn’t be true for a submissive man?

Have you read any of my posts describing my subs?  They’re the strongest people I’ve ever met.  The things they’ve endured, the things they’ve been through, the way they’ve come out the other side, stronger and harder, is awe-inspiring.  All three of them have impressed and astounded me.  They’re absolutely incredible, and I consider myself lucky to own them.

You talk about kings.  My subs are the kings in my world.  But they do not rule me.  I rule them.

20160703_035933

My world is like chess.  The king doesn’t hold the power; the queen does.  The game is won or lost by her decisions.  The king lives or dies by her choices.  She leads the army, she charges into battle, and she fiercely protects her king.

She’s brutal.  And manipulative.  And relentless.  No one questions her.  No one challenges her.

That’s my world.  And it takes a strong man to handle me, to handle what I put them through, what I make them endure.  I’m not gentle with my boys.  And there have been many who simply couldn’t handle what I wanted.

Kazander, Steel, and Sounder are strong men who can handle me, can handle being owned by me and can handle being in a relationship with me.

That asshat Dom claimed he was a king, but he was just a little boy who wanted to boss someone around.  And sadly, there are a great number of pricks like him.  I could never respect a man like that.  I could never take him seriously.

I love Sounder’s response to him.  But that Dom wasn’t a king.  Sounder is.  He deserves every bit of the respect I feel for him.  He has the strength and fortitude it takes to serve selflessly, to put someone else’s wants and needs before his own.

It’s like a conversation I had with Steel recently, about why I wasn’t actively looking to have penetrative PIV sex.  Because anyone can fuck.  But it takes a special kind of man to give me what I want, who can meet my depravity with eagerness, who can willingly follow me down that dark, twisted path.

Anyone can hold a woman down and fuck her.  Dominant men and the people who like them are fine, and have every right to have what they want, have the relationship they want.  But to me, there’s just nothing special about a Dominant man.  They’re a dime a dozen.  And I’ve only ever met one I could respect.

Submissive men are special.  They’re incredible.  They’re admirable and wonderful, and I could fill page after page with words about how much I love them.

My subs are the kings of my world, and they have the strength and fortitude necessary to serve me selflessly and follow me wholeheartedly.

The last two nights

**Notice**

This post contains a picture of needle play.

I love needle play.  The more I do of it, the more I love it.

The more I do it, the more I want to do it.

I was invited to a FemDom dinner at Sadie’s the other night, and asked her if I could grab a couple of hypodermic needles from her.  She opened up her massive box-o-sharp-shit and said, “You’re going to have to narrow it down.  What are you going to use it for?”

“Punishment.”

She grinned — a grin Kazander says he’s seen too many times on my face, and I love seeing on hers.  God, I fucking love that chick — and handed me four needles, still in their packaging.

“Oh wait,” she said, grabbing one more.  “Take this one, too.  If you really want to get your point across.”

I looked through the packaging at the needle inside and my jaw dropped.  “What the fuck is this even used for?” I asked.

“You mean medically?  I have no idea.  It’s pretty, right?”

“Fuck yes it’s pretty!”

20160629_010824

She gave me 4 mean needles (only 3 pictured) and one massive bitch of a needle, that I cannot wait to stick through a scrotum or cock.

So the next time I need to punish one of my boys, those things are coming out.

I had a few needles left over from Sounder’s play party, and decided it was time to try those out.

So last night, I paused the show we were watching and turned to Kazander.

“Is needle play still a hard limit?”

“It’s not a hard limit so much as a soft limit.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’m willing to try it if it’ll turn you on.”

He says my whole face lit up at that point.  “It’ll turn me on!”

So I pulled out the needles, gloves, and alcohol and practically tore his clothes off.

It didn’t matter that the needles were small, and it wasn’t going to cause him a lot of pain.  It didn’t matter that it was going to be short-lived, and I would take the needles back out soon.

I just wanted to shove pointy things in him.

So I did.

20160628_235940

And they look so pretty

And really, he handled it pretty well.  Once I had all three in, I asked him how he was doing, and he said he was fine.  It wasn’t something he enjoyed, but something he would tolerate for my enjoyment.  And he’s willing to try staples and sutures, as well.

So I’m happy with that.  That was a good night.

Then, tonight, I spent the evening with Sounder.  He wasn’t feeling well, so we decided to skip the playing and sit on the couch, watching TV and having a couple drinks instead.

And I swear, that was my full intention.

But I pulled him close and wrapped my arm around him, and just started running my fingers across his arm, shoulder, and chest.  And when I felt his nipple, nice and hard, through his shirt, I couldn’t help but hurt it.

It wasn’t even really a conscious decision.  I pulled him close because I like having him close.  There was nothing nefarious there.  It was a simple, innocent desire to cuddle.  I ran my fingers across his body because that’s a habit of mine.

Still innocent.

Even the first few seconds that I teased his nipple, it wasn’t with any sort of intention.  But then, with that first little gasp of his, the sadist in me sprang to fucking life and you’d think I hadn’t fed her in weeks.  She was starving, and the only thing that can satisfy that particular hunger is a sweet, adorable sub writhing in pain.

The more I hurt him, the more he squirmed, and the more I wanted to hurt him.  When I reached down and felt that he was hard, it only made me want to hurt him more.

I pulled him closer and bit down hard on the back of his neck, making him gasp.  I dragged my nails up and down his back, I bit him, I pinched him and dug my nails into his nipples and cock, and I loved the way he writhed in my lap.

An hour later than I intended, I finally let him up and grabbed my things to go.  As he was walking me to my car, he said, “I don’t know how you pulled that off.”

“How I pulled what off?”

“We were just sitting on the couch.  Watching TV.  Innocently.”

I grinned.  “There’s no such thing as innocent.”

I swear, y’all, I actually am capable of being completely vanilla and keeping my hands off of my toys when I need to.  I can keep control and not paw at them like pieces of meat.  I know this because I’ve been in public with my subs before.  Because I’ve had subs at family gatherings before.  Everything has been completely vanilla.

So I actually am capable of not treating Sounder like an object to amuse and entertain me.

Just not all the time, apparently.

Don’t touch me

I like to cuddle just as much as the next person.  I love lying in bed with Kazander resting his head on my shoulder, his arms and legs wrapped around me.  I love sitting on the couch with Sounder and pulling him close.  I love when Steel curls up in my lap.

It feels awesome, and I love it.

But there is one thing I love decidedly more than cuddling.  And that is sleeping.

Cuddle all you want.  But when I’m ready to roll over and go to sleep, get the fuck off me and stay on your side of the bed.

Like seriously.  Stay there.  Sleep time and cuddle time do not overlap.

I’ve been told I can be downright mean in the middle of the night if someone comes up behind me to spoon while I’m asleep.

Which, by the way, I don’t remember doing.  But multiple partners have told me that over the years, who have never met or spoken to each other, so I assume it’s true.  And I have gotten better about that.  Now, for whatever reason (maybe I’m just more aware of it) it’ll wake me up, and I’ll make sure I’m nice.

When Kazander has done that, I’ll wake up, put my hand over his, and let him spoon until I get hot or uncomfortable, then I’ll wake up again, push him off me, and go back to sleep.  No meanness.

Also, waking me up in the morning can often require a hostage-negotiator level of tact and diplomacy.  Although again, I’ve gotten better.  I don’t throw my phone at whoever is trying to wake me up anymore usually.

It’s part of my neuroses.  I like my sleep. And I am the polar opposite of a morning person.  I once lamented to Sounder that I had to wake up at the ass-crack of dawn for something (ie, 8 am).

I like my sleep.  And I like my space when I sleep.

Kazander has taken that a step further.  Over the last few months, he’s started to sleep on the couch in the living room.

He’s not there every night, but definitely most.  He maybe only sleeps in bed with me once a week or so.

And I love this arrangement.  Particularly since, regardless of how big the bed is, he likes to sleep on-fucking-top of me.

It’s sweet, and I can’t be mad at him for wanting to be close, but ugh, get off me.

The couch thing didn’t start because of an argument or anything.  We can blame it on the spawn, actually.  She’s not a morning person, either (which makes me sublimely happy), but she does have the habit of coming into our room at 4 or 5 in the morning, wanting to watch TV or some water or whateverthefuckelse a 4-year-old can think of, and falling back asleep either in our bed or in her bean bag chair.

I can wake up, put on Peppa Pig (which I’m convinced was created by angry child-haters bent on getting back at all the people who reproduced.  Like, a bunch of people sat in a room and said, “All these fucking obnoxious kids are everywhere.  We hate them.  How can we get revenge on those stupid assholes who created them?  What is the absolute worst thing we could do to torture them for making all these fucking kids?”  And the answer to that was Peppa Pig.  I’m serious, it’s fucking brutal.  You cannot convince me that show was created under any other circumstances).

What was I talking about?

So I can wake up, get her whatever she needs, and fall immediately back to sleep.  Kazander cannot.  When she comes in at 3am and wakes us up, he can’t get back to sleep.  He’s up for the rest of the night.

So he took to sleeping on the couch, she leaves him alone, he gets a full night’s sleep, and I get the bed to myself and don’t have a 10,000 degree blanket wanting to get all up on me in the middle of the night.

Everyone wins.

And with nights like tonight, it’s actually kind of hot.

We were getting ready for bed, I was standing in the bedroom next to the bed, plugging my phone in, when he came up to hug me.  I smacked his ass, and when he tried his typical move of pushing me off balance so I fall onto the bed, I responded by hip-tossing him onto the bed instead  (which, due to a recent shoulder injury, is a move I’m hugely regretting right now.  Not my brightest moment.  But he wasn’t expecting it, and his reaction was hot, so it was worth it).

I held his arms down and bit his nipples and his ear, grinning when he gasped and squirmed.

Really, he squirms so pretty.

Funny how a knee placed strategically between his legs quiets that squirming, though.

He tried to adjust my grip or move my hand or something, I don’t know, so I let go of one wrist to roughly shove his head to the side and bite his neck, while rubbing his dick with my knee.

“You’re my bitch,” I whispered, gripping his balls hard enough to make him moan.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Say it.”

“I’m your bitch.”

“Good boy.  Now get the fuck off my bed.  Hurry up, or you’ll end up sleeping in a kennel in the closet.”

He whined once, then got off the bed, dropped to his knees, and kissed my ass like the good bitch he is before going back out to the living room for the night.

Punishment in the day-to-day

Domina Jen,

I’ve never been all that interested in D/s outside of the bedroom.  I guess you’d say I’m a bottom, rather than a sub.  But one of the biggest issues I have with a 24/7 D/s relationship, and the biggest reason I think it doesn’t work in the long run, is this idea of punishment.

You talk about respecting your subs, but how can you respect someone when you punish them?  Isn’t that treating them like children?  How does punishment and the ability to punish a sub for their mistakes fit into a healthy relationship?

Anonymous

Well…

First of all, define “long run.”  Because I have a 6-year-long relationship and two year-ish-long relationships that say you’re full of shit, bro.  Just because it may not work for you doesn’t mean it doesn’t work.

And I have to laugh whenever people claim that punishment only exists in D/s relationships.  Because it’s absolutely not true.

I’m going to quote Steel here.  You can see a sub’s point of view on it.  Now he’s never been punished by me, but this is not his first D/s relationship, and he’s familiar with the practice.

Anyone who’s suffered through a lengthy drive in silence can attest to the fact that punishments exist in conventional relationships. However, behavior is coded in faux-egalitarianism and therefore erratic and often arbitrary. In contrast, those living in a lifestyle BDSM relationship usually have an explicit binary of power and specific rules which, if broken, lead to a submissive being punished.

Punishment is not an exclusively D/s thing.  Regulated punishment is an exclusively D/s thing.

D/s relationships don’t just work, they work better (in my experience) than vanilla ones, because, in no small part, of those blue sentences up there.

In a D/s relationship, expectations are hammered out in agonizing detail, rules are set and agreed upon, and the dynamic is given quite a bit more attention than in your average conventional relationship.  Partners are expected to talk about their needs/wants/desires/fantasies, sexual or otherwise.  The level of communication required for a successful D/s relationship far surpasses that for a vanilla one.

There are things I know about the men I’ve owned for a year or less that my friends don’t know about the husbands they’ve been married to for a decade or more.  And when you suggest they talk to their husbands, the answer is always the same.  They’re too nervous or scared to say what they want.  They don’t feel comfortable talking about sex.  It’s too taboo.

So when you have a relationship where neither partner feels comfortable enough to talk, how can expectations be hashed out with any degree of clarity?  And when one partner falls short of those unspoken expectations, there’s no telling what kind of behavior that will cause.

In my relationships, if a sub falls short of my expectations, they know exactly what will happen.  I may be angry, sure, or disappointed.  But there won’t be any cold shoulders, pouting, foot-stomping, or passive-aggressive remarks.

There will be a single punishment, with a clear beginning and a clear end, and then life goes on.  There’s no need to bring it up again in two weeks or two months or two years down the line.  And there’s no need for them to continue beating themselves up for a mistake.  It’s handled, it’s over, and we both move on with no fighting or arguing.

Sometimes, of course, a discussion needs to be had about what caused the behavior, and if there are any adjustments that should be made to the relationship.

But if there’s a problem with the dynamic, or if a need isn’t being met, then fuck yes I’m going to punish them for acting out instead of talking to me about it long before it got to that point.  I’m not an unreasonable person, and my subs are not children.  They have a voice.  And they’ve been with me long enough to know that I expect them to tell me when there’s a problem, and that they can expect me to listen patiently, and with compassion and understanding.

If I don’t know something’s wrong, I can’t fix it.  And I take no responsibility for failing to fix a problem I didn’t know existed.  They’re grown-ass men, and I expect them to have the balls to talk to me like an adult instead of acting out like children.  Fuck yes, I will punish them for that 100% of the time.

Still, they have a voice, even in punishment.  Not a loud one, but again, I’m not unreasonable.  If there’s something wrong in a relationship, my goal is to find out what it is and fix it.  But they know what I expect of them.

Now it’s important to note that I have expectations I need to meet, too.  Every Dominant does.  And my subs know that they can always talk to me about those expectations.  I don’t pretend to be perfect.  I know I’m going to fuck up at some point.

Should I fall short of those expectations, do they have the power to punish me?  Hell no.  And should there be a lengthy drive in silence, cold shoulders, or passive aggressive remarks, I know how to remind them of their place and get to the root of the problem.

So no, they cannot punish me.  They aren’t even given the opportunity to do it by more “conventional” methods.  Is that unfair?  Perhaps, but it goes right back to the very first lesson my mentor taught me.

A submissive gives up control for freedom.  A Dominant gives up freedom for control.  I don’t have the freedom to lose my temper or get petty or do any of that bullshit.  I’ve always got to be aware of that.

Do I fuck up sometimes?  Sure.  But I expect my boys to tell me when it happens and help me get back on track.

I actually fucked up just recently, with Kazander.  We’ve been dealing with a shitload of problems with his family (and depending how things go when his parents get home, we might actually be in the market for a new place to live, it’s gotten that fucking bad) and up until recently, I’ve been handling it all.

Weeks of that wears a person down, and I’ll admit, I’d been grouchy all that evening.  And I was unintentionally taking it out on Kazander, snapping at him for no real reason.  Finally, he said:

“I know you’re stressed.  But remember, you’re pissed at them, not at me.”

I immediately realized what I’d been doing.  “Fuck, you’re right.  I’m sorry.”

And things went back to normal after that.  I realized that I was falling short of my expectations of myself, and I was falling short of Kazander’s expectations of me.  And he deserves better than that.  All three of my boys deserve better than that.

Had he been the one snapping at me, I would have spanked him or done some other punishment.  He doesn’t have the power to do that to me, and he never will.

Is that unfair?  Yes, I suppose so.  But a D/s dynamic is an inherently unfair one.  I call the shots.  He doesn’t.  Steel doesn’t.  Sounder doesn’t.  No man or woman I ever own will.

That’s why my relationships work.

Coining!!

What happens when you combine a regular, unassuming coin with some tiger balm?

20160618_000619

This fucking awesomeness, right here.

I went to Sadie’s tonight, and she had just heard about an ancient Chinese healing technique called “coining.”

She’d never heard of it before, but she researched it and, being the sadist she is, fell in love.

Hearing her talk about it made me, the sadist that I am, fall in love.

So after a class on abrasion play (my shopping list just quadrupled in size, btw) she handed me a big, fancy Chinese coin.

Coining is actually a legitimate healing technique that is said to release toxins from the body, just like fire cupping. And as you can see, it leaves fantastic marks, that supposedly stay for days.

Kazander is not a masochist. But even he said there was very little pain involved, and the pain he did experience was minor.

But to look at his back, you’d think I wailed on him. That picture was taken about 20 minutes after I’d finished, and really the picture doesn’t do it justice (I couldn’t get the color to look accurate in my camera).

It’s soooo pretty. And soooo much fun to look at.

If you’re interested in learning how, I definitely recommend finding a professional to teach you. But as far as edgy BDSM play goes, this is on the safer side. All you do is rub tiger balm (or icy hot, or whatever) on a sub’s back, and then use repeated firm downward strokes along the back, moving away from the heart. There are youtube videos of it everywhere. One professional assured a vlogger that it’s safe for pregnant women, elderly, and children (although in the US, people have been reported for child abuse after seeing the marks. I’m not kidding, the picture doesn’t do it justice. If I saw that on a little kid and had no idea it was a relatively painless ancient healing technique, I’d call the police immediately).

It’s often used in conjunction with fire cupping, and Kazander said it was rather relaxing, and felt like a massage. Sure some areas began to hurt after a minute, but he was completely stunned when I showed him the pictures of his back, and he realized how dark the marks are.

He said, “It didn’t feel like you were doing anything.”

So coining. Lots of awesomeness. Yet another technique to add to my arsenal.