A while ago we talked about the expectations that might be set for a party.  Now let’s  look at one of the scenes that might occur at that party in a similar way.  What expectations to the participants bring to it?  Let’s imagine the case of a submissive woman and her non-playing but supportive partner.   She wants to be tied and flogged while her partner watches, so she can escape into a private fantasy which she knows will bring her to an ecstatic climax.  For the time being, her partner must become an actor,  must be able to sustain the fantasy that is being projected upon them. An amateur theatre production might for example thrust a man upon the stage with a black eye-patch, a stuffed parrot in one hand and a wooden cutlass in the other.  The sound system scratches out a non-descript shanty and someone chucks a bucket of water over the set.  Wanting to believe in the story being told, the audience settles back to await a rousing tale of swashbuckling and kidnapped maidens.  Incidentally, directors know how important the kidnapped maiden bit is.  But I digress!

This woman’s partner may be required to be a cold observer of her humiliation or a helpless wretch unable to save her from her plight.  Her fantasy is her own story, and the others in the scene are her supporting cast   We enter into the realm of participatory ritual theatre.  Our task is easier than it is for the Mummers or the presenters of Passion Plays.  Easier even than for those engaging in demonstrations of  dungeon techniques for an audience, since we have only to create the experience for ourselves and not be concerned with the communication of  the experience.

Starting with the conclusion and working backwards we know that we want the submissive to achieve her earth-shattering orgasm.  She may wish it to occur within a particular  physical and psychological context, such as betrayal by her loved one at the height of her physical pain.  Thus the scene will end with her partner passionately embracing another woman just about the time she reaches the limit of her tolerance for the flogging.  The flogger then, will be going for overload and stress, rather than an endorphin high.  The position assumed for the flogging will also be such that the subject will be able to get herself off.  A rolled towel between her legs, perhaps enhanced with the insertion of a butt plug,  can provide sufficient stimulation, if she has freedom to wriggle.

Now we come to the “why” of the story.  How has she ended up in this predicament in the first place?  If her story tells that she came blindfolded, naked under her dress, the toy already filling her bottom, then that is how the evening should start.   But we still don’t know  the “why” of it.  Perhaps she has been a silly, frivolous girl, always whining for more, unappreciative of what she already has.  In order to punish her she has been brought to the dungeon where her humiliation will be witnessed by amused strangers.  Now we have the key to the rest of the scene.  There must be an entrance, an air of formality and inevitability about the proceedings.  In the spirit of consensual non-consensuality  she must be able to believe that she has no choice other than to go along with what is to be done to her, and to create the necessary level of excitement, she must be afraid of what is going to happen.  Her expectation that she will be taken beyond her limits must be fulfilled, although it is important to point out here that we are talking about perceived limits, not real limits, for it is in the unexplored territory between where the true essence of dungeon play is found.  To go beyond a real limit is senseless brutality and does nothing but damage both the top and the bottom physically, mentally or both.

With the broad structure in place there are many details of costuming, props, narrative and environment that support that structure.  Next we will get into the details that work on the human psyche to develop and enhance fantasy.  Think about all the ways that folk have devised to ritualize their lives from the Goth scene to conservative Catholicism.

Until the next time,

May all your black clothes make it back from the cleaners,

SB.

Reprinted with permission from Wasteland.Com

I had just told him my fantasies, and it was our first time playing with them. His finger slid slowly up and down the slit of my cunt, gliding over the glistening shean my body exuded, tacitly accusing. `It’s not my fault! I wanted to say. `It’s not my fault!’ His look is disapproving. Stern. “You are a bad girl, my Love. A very bad girl” he says. “You are wet.” There will be punishment. Of course.

Rising from his knees he took me by the hand and sat on the futon, pulling me around and laying me over his knee as for a spanking. But he did not spank me. Again he handled me, stroked me, relaxed me, aroused me, teased me. He moved my body, spreading my knees and raising my arms over my head, opening my body in all the ways a woman is supposed to keep private. Only when I am panting with desire does he check again for wetness. A slow, terrible test. I know I am failing it even as he fondles my sex, his fingers filthy with me. “Yes, a very bad girl.” The stroking is terrible. Knees wide, vulnerable. Soft, light strokes, a teasing, orgasm producing stroke. “Your cunt is wet.”

I felt my shame that day. The first time I ever really felt it. I felt my shame with every stroke of my sex, and with every slap of his hand. Not a hard slap. But it didn’t have to be. It was on my sex that he spanked me. “Stay still for it, my Love.” And he would take his hand off my sex. I learned that it would strike in moments, but I was paralyzed. I could only lay over his knee and accept the humiliation. Smack! His hand tapped me and the soaking wet lips of my sex made a loud slapping sound despite the gentleness of the spanking. “You are a bad girl. Your cunt is wet. You are a very bad girl.” He stroked me, expertly teasing my swollen clit, yet knowing when to go lower, preventing the orgasm. He spanked my cunt and slid up and down on it, reminding me of my shame. I knew I shouldn’t moan. If I was pleasured it would surely be proof that I was bad. But I could not withhold.
“Ohh.” His fingers teased. A quick slap elicited a gasp then another moan as I settled back down over his knees.

“You little slut, enjoying your punishment.” he said with just the right touch of derision. Yes, I felt my shame. And my orgasm was near.

He knows. The almost imperceptible tremble that rolled through her when he first touched her pussy is the sign. Taking her, he leads her to the futon and lays her over his knees, on her back. Pulling her legs up, he places her right leg on top of the futon, behind him, and holds her left thigh open and back with his left hand. Within moments she is transformed from a bad girl caught with her cunt wet to the ultimate position of vulnerability.

She will be cunt spanked, she has no doubt of that. Her wetness is inches from of his face, glistening and aromatic. He looks at it. She can’t hide it. “Your cunt is wet, my Love. You should be ashamed.” And the stroking starts. Coaxing the clit to swell, then avoiding it. She knows from long experience with his spankings that there is always warning before being spanked. One hand holds her, the other pleasures her. Always it is the hand that pleasures that also punishes. There can not be punishment unless that hand leaves her sex…
He lifts his hand. She tenses slightly, knowing that she will be punished with his next touch. “You are a bad girl. Your cunt is wet.” Slap! His hand stays on her, still for a few moments, then traces circles lightly, slowly, gauging how close to orgasm his beloved is. Then levitates. “You are a bad girl.” Slap! Insistently it repeats. Her legs held open, her cunt out for him to see, smell, and punish, dirty, terrible words spoken to her. Words about a woman’s role in sex and how a lady must act, and she is brought deeper and deeper into her helplessness until she is lost to the world. When finally she is about to cum with or without further stimulation he jams his finger up her ass and lifts her hips as he moves his mouth to her clit. His lips and tongue press into the hot wetness of her body, suckling the orgasm from her.

*****

`Oh God! I am lost! I am a bad girl! I’m naked! I’m wet! I’ve been caught! It’s up my ass! I’m so ashamed!

“PLEASE SIR, PLEASE DON’T SPANK ME THERE!”

I am pushed over the edge and I cum with more power than ever before. For minutes I moan, squirm, and throb as he holds me, controlling my hips with my asshole, mouth following my squirming sex, slipping and sliding over it. Sensitivity now acute, further stimulation is painful. Desperate now for him to stop, I hold still and spread wide, keening softly. He knows. He feels me spread myself and he knows it is time. He opens his mouth wide, lips forming a large O, and he holds this upon me, pleasantly stretching my sex as I throb untouched in his mouth.

Soon I remember that I’ve been bad, that he knows what I’ve done. He will surely inspect me again soon, and what will I say? A trembling begins in the depths of my gut, growing with strength. Submission now forgotten I draw my arms to my side as my hips buck faster and farther with every contraction. His mouth is sliding on me again and I explode, screaming without concern. His tongue orchestrates my gasps and screams…

*****

Again you spread. Your arms rise above your head, legs splay. You even tip your pelvis up to maximize my access. Just when you are terrified that I will continue, you hold yourself helpless to me. A well trained woman. Again I understand, and hold you quietly in my mouth, waiting for your recovery. Your clit ejaculates it’s nothingness into warm, moist air as my lips stretch you. We spend minutes like this as you calm. 
The trembling begins again…

*****

I never knew it could be like this…

“Spread.” You open your body and wait. Inspections are never hurried. First he checks your grooming. The shaved places. Under the arms. The lips of your pussy. Legs. Like a whore. His fingers approve of you. Everywhere they touch, they tease. He is there now, touching. Checking for wetness. A finger slides slowly up and down the slit of your cunt. He knows.

It’s time for your fucking.

This is my story. My husband and I run a private business. It is an Internet based operation that we run from our home. It is quite a demanding job, sometimes a bit stressful. And I am – or should I say was – a coffee-addict. A year ago I would drink 12 to 15 cups of coffee a day. Black and strong. No milk, just sugar. That was until the day my husband – who is also my 24/7 master – told me coffee for me would be a no go and that, if I really needed it, it would have to be “French coffee”.

This means drinking coffee now is a very humiliating protocol for me

It goes like this. If a really, really, really want coffee I will first of all have to beg for it. Next, when it suits him, I will have to kneel down and give master a really good blowjob.

And that is not just a “suck and swallow” quickly. No, he wants the works.

I must kiss, lick and suck until he is completely satisfied and ready to cum. If he does I must of course catch the sperm in my mouth, but I am not allowed to swallow it.

Master is a hard man to please and he has taught me well. So this part of the ritual is very likely to take quite some time. Usually something in between 30 minutes and an hour.

Only now master will pour me a cup of coffee. I will next have to empty my mouth in my cup, thus mixing the sperm with the coffee. This I have to do in front of him, still kneeling, so he can enjoy the scene. I can assure you, this is probably the most humiliating part of the process.

I’m sure you get the point by now. What is inside the cup after this is what master has baptized “French coffee”. I have to drink it of course.

This is the only coffee I am allowed to drink. And what is worse, this ritual allows for very clever embarrassment.

For example, whenever we visit others and people offer me coffee I have to say that only drink “French coffee”. When they ask for an explanation I will give them some story about a very special European brand or a very special blending, both of course unavailable in the United States.

And all I can do is hope that there is not another master somewhere who came up with the same idea….

Description (reproduced with permission):

The cold blackness haunted her senses. Her pale skin trembled with every pounding beat of her heart. She tried to free herself from her restraints, but failed each time. Her captor silently taunted her from the shadows, waiting for her to crumble beneath his will. Newcomer Cheri Rose came to Wasteland to explore and push her tolerance for pain. Under the swift and heavy hand of “Him”, she will soon discover a pain she has never experienced before in – Cell 181

This may sound silly, but the first requirement for leather cuffs is that they should fit! The problem is that well over 80 percent of the leather cuffs, produced commercially, do not! Especially not if the slave happens to be female. The vast majority of commercial production is aimed at submissive men and as a result most cuffs are simple too big and too wide for use on women.

You can save yourself a lot of money and yet another disappointment if you bring your sub or slave with you, when you go out to buy cuffs and have her fit them in the store. If that is not allowed – leave it. It is not worth your money.

The second important thing is that straight forward handcuffs are designed to connect one arm (or leg) to the other in some way – they were not designed to hang from! Even when standing with the hands cuffed overhead, special cuffs should be used in order to avoid damage to one of the main nerves, the one that send messages to and from your extremities, this is what makes us very different from any other mammal: the thumb! Loose the feeling in that nerve (which is more than a little likely) and you’ll have trouble picking up a cup or a pencil or anything else for a long time to come!

Cuffs should be properly constructed. Cowhide is the best choice, since it is strong and durable. Ideally the cuffs should be lined with a thinner layer of leather, so sweat cannot soak into the inside of the leather. D-rings (the ones you use to connect on cuff to another) should be welded for safety reasons and rivets, suds and rings should be steel, not nickel, in order to avoid rusting. Cheap leather cuffs are always a bad choice. Remember they will be on the body of your loved one and at times her well being may depend on them. So only the best is good enough!

Leather collars again are almost always made too big for women, which makes them very uncomfortable to wear. Here again, the advice is to fit them in the shop before buying one and nine out of ten times a simple (and much cheaper) dog collar from your local pet shop will do the same thing and probably better.

Check “The Rack – How To Guides” at Wasteland.Com for cuff designs, you can easily make yourself as well as for hints and tips about leather maintenance.

Especially if bondage is new to you, it is a good idea to have a few leather belts (straps) around. They are easy to work with and quite handy in many situations, either to use as a bondage tool on the body, or to strap your slave to a table, a chair, or a bed.

Belts are safe, easy to use and relatively cheap. Check with shops that sells luggage equipment for longer straps.

Ideally, they should not have sharp edges. If they do, that is usually easily corrected by massaging a firm dose of Vaseline into the belt, which is very good for your leather anyway.

Do invest in a tool to cut extra holes in your belts (that comes in handy anyway, since almost all leather equipment requires such small adjustments) and make many, so your belts are ready to tackle just about every possible bondage situation.

Different lengths is a good plan, since having a choice will not leave you with ugly long ends if you have only one type of belt.

Go for luggage belts rather than waist belts, since the latter usually have fancy buckles and all sorts of studs and decorations, that has a tendency to get in the way when used for bondage purposes.

Article and Photos Courtesy of Wasteland.Com



Welcome to Wasteland.com where Hardcore BDSM, sex, fun and pain are just everyday things! Poor miss Ashley is having a difficult time with her behavior. Her attitude during classes is just appalling and she just doesn’t seem to care. The Dean of her school has had enough and brings in some outside help. Keni Styles, the master of disaster, the colonel of pain, the king of dong…well you get the idea. Keni isn’t putting up with any shit from this misbehaving little hussy. He lays down the law immediately and pulls Ashley over his knee and spanks her ass red. Her defiance is unprecedented. The usual tactics just won’t suffice. She is so close, but heavier discipline is needed. So Keni pulls out old reliable, and gags the ornery little bitch with his hard cock while he stretches her tight little pussy with as many fingers as he can fit in her. He then finishes her off with a hard pussy pounding fuck, and forces her to swallow every drop of his cum. Class is over, and school is out…..think Ashley’s learned her lesson? Just CLICK HERE to watch Ashley and her attitude being readjusted!

Although she misbehaves, Jada learns her lesson pretty fast when her cruel master shows no hesitation in forcing her onto her hands and knees and shoving his cock down her throat as a form of punishment. She might have been bewildered, but that did not stop Jada from still mouthing off, so Master Eric did the next best thing and decided that her ass would have to pay for her belligerent mouth! Jada has no choice but to accept her punishment right in front of the wasteland cameras as her Master pounds her ass so hard that she ends up screaming in an intense orgasm!

Just CLICK HERE if you want to see the full picture gallery of Jada and her anal experience.

The new site, Tribalmale.com, features extreme gay S&M content produced by none other than the gay film industry pioneer and Bijou Theater producer, Steve Toushin. Gay and Bisexual men alike, have yet to be able to find any of this hardcore gay BDSM online. Filled with gritty and dirty content that will leave you with your jaw hitting the floor hard, this site marks the begining of true gay male BDSM finally joining the rest of the porn industry on the world wide web. As you can see from the trailer, there are no pretty little twinks here. They wouldn’t be able to survive what these men put each other through! If you haven’t seen Toushin’s work before than you are in for a treat. Never before has gay S&M been so real, so nasty and so full of bears that enjoy flogging, fisting, whipping and beating each other! Say goodbye to Gay BDSM that features skinny twinks being tickled with feathers and tied up in fuzzy rainbow handcuffs and say Hello to some of the nastiest most hardcore shit there is!

Leila has always been one of my favorite slaves at Wasteland.com for a couple of reasons. Firstly she’s got one hell of a smoking hot body! And secondly this girl is no vanilla porn model, she takes her beatings well and she takes them as hard as they can come!

Submissive to Master Eric X, Leila is bound to a hard wood bondage chair and has her entire sides covered in clothespins. She’s blind folded and cannot tell when her Master will take his crop and hit off all of the clothespins, but she knows it’s going to happen. The fact that Leila is blindfolded makes her torment all that much worse as the anticipation of the next blow keeps her on edge and wondering where the flogger, crop or cane will strike her next.

If you’re looking for some hardcore BDSM go no further, just click HERE or on one of the pictures to check otu the free kink movie gallery of Leila being utterly abused by the cruel Master Eric X! With electrostim, burning hot candle wax, dual flogger action and more, Master Eric X brings a whole new meaning to the term hardcore.

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