BDSM & Depravity

Okay, so I took a month off and a bunch of shit happened. A bunch of fun, kinky, and good sex happened but shit happened. And have a happy new year bitches.

But in the time that I was also taking off, I've been planning something with my dearest kinksters. And in that time, one question keeps popping up.

You're okay with being brutalized?

That is the question I'm being asked. Not by one person. Not by two. But by a lot. And it is hard to answer yes because I want to explain. I want to tell them about the depravity that runs down and through my body and soul; but I don't. I just assure them I'm okay with it and continue on.

But I have to explore it. I have to feed something that has been gnawing at myself for more than a year. That's the craving for brutality. If I spend my days encouraging you guys to figure out your own sexualites, let me share this. Let me tell you my fucking story.

I've been hurt and beaten down (in the figurative sense here). I was a self-harmer for about 3 years. I was known for cutting, scratching, and dragging scissors across my skins. For an extensive period of my high school life I wore scar patches to tend to the wounds and create elaborate stories of how I got hurt.

That was the time when pain began to be a part of my life. It was a time when I struggled to feel more alive than when pain was a part of my routine. Without that pain, I felt suffocated and at a loss.

But as the wounds began to heal on my skin and on my heart I began to take on this idea that from pain comes beauty. Life is life because of pain. Life is life because of healing and feeling. And I need pain, physical pain, to reach my own heightened existence.

It started with little things like hair pulling and using asphyxiation as an orgasm trigger. Biting was another orgasm trigger. And I realized the rougher I was given the rougher I wanted it. But the rougher I sought to give, too. Until I found myself being unfilled by "sex". By the casual fuck sessions between me and my "lovers". Something was missing. And in my subconscious, the whispers...

I want to be brutalized...

That was months and many more months echoing in my head before I found myself in the lifestyle. And it has been nearly years before what is coming had been dreamed up.

There inside my head is a craving for sexual brutality. This need to give myself over to them and say it is okay to break me. If I never want it again, I will have fed the beast inside.

I'm fucking ready.

That's Miss Sabina, to you!

Ever had one of those experiences that changes your life? Gives you confidence, strength, and ultimate power? I have and [Aristotle] gave that to me. He handed it to me on a goddamn silver platter the moment he said he wanted to submit to me.

For years, I have known that I have a dominant side in me. I've dabbled in topping and in masturbation control. It is a thrill that I feel deep inside when a man begs for my permission, generosity or mercy.

But this is what I've wanted; what I've craved.

I wanted to cause the sound of the whip. I wanted to control, demand, punish, and reward.

I haven't found a lot of men confident in their own sexuality to lose control to a woman. I've seen fear in their eyes or heard it in their voice. But then when you plant a "Get the Fuck Over Here Kiss" (trademarks pending), it makes them question their resolve. But [Aristotle], he is different.

He knew that by agreeing to meet me, he would be mine. My pleasure would come from control and his pleasure would belong to me. He showed up in a black shirt just like I told him to and everything stirred in my veins. Blood pumping hot and strong, power driving my moves, my panties getting wet, stimulus overload.

And in public, I made his face the most beautiful shade of red by making sure he knew exactly what was coming his way. I'm not the most handy person when it comes to creating things but I managed to rig a complete door jam to string my little sub to the front door. It worked beautifully and I am fucking proud of it!

I put together a sampler platter of goodies for us to try. Well, really, I wanted to try and test the waters but I needed to know what we would both like. There was a lot of shoving my wet fingers down his throat, whipping, and making sure he knew his place was beneath me and he would kneel if I said kneel. He wasn't even allowed to talk unless I decided to grant his permission.

I've never felt such a high. Never had my own excitement running down my legs.

Until then.

Our scene ended in more fantasy fulfillment when I untied him and granted him permission to pleasure me until we were a glistening heap of sexed bodies on the living room floor.

And in the moments after, I knew the side of me I'd tried to find for years.

Her name My name is Miss Sabina, and I'm fucking hott.

Life is Balance

There is never a way to get out of the inevitable balance that is life. Life is beautiful, you know I think that but sometimes it's just a bitch. I mean it. One minute you're enjoying yourself and in the very next breath you find yourself in the middle of a tornadic shit storm.

If I am honest, I am exaggerating a little bit, but it is how I feel. 

I'm in the middle of something I was afraid to feel. I'm in the middle of a sub drop.

A sub drop is (and its equally opposite top drop but I can't talk about that) when the all the endorphins that are pumping through your body through and after a scene bottom out and dissipate. It is an emotional and a physical state stress.

After a weekend of fun, scenes, friends, booze, and sex I feel empty. I don't like it. I don't want this. I want to bask in after glows and happiness. Instead of that, at 2AM I'm asking someone what the hell is happening to me.

There are a lot reactions that each individual could feel from bitchy, needy, whiny, lonely, etc. What I feel or more prominently when the drop first occurred I was very scared, reclusive, confused and I didn't want to be touched. I was unsure of everything about myself. It is a very ugly place to be.

And also extremely apologetic. I felt like I corrupted the world and it was all my fault.

Aftercare, which isn't something I have really talked about, can help curb this and help bring you down safely but it isn't a foolproof resolve. I will write about that too, but the cosmos had to fucking know about the ugly side of this. The part that says everything is in fucking a balance and just to get over it.

Also, writing helped. So there is that.

Reader's Response: What Did You Do?

It really is a special thrill when people comment on blog posts outside of the blog. I get messages, and comments, and text messages and even SnapChats about posts. It makes me feel like I have ascended to bad-ass status!

Today's question comes from Twitter:

I read your post about the swinger club and BDSM night. I was curious if you included yourself or just observed.

The short answer is that I just observed...this time.

When I walked in to the bar, I was nervous and had the creepy clammy hands going on while I drained my vaporizer tank. I didn't know what to expect. Coming around the corner, I was greeted with the most erotic seen I have ever laid eyes one.

There was a beautifully naked woman on stage who was being roped and bound. She looked like she was in heaven. I was instantly drunk watching her.

Next to her, a woman was bent over the spanking benches with her skirt up around her waist.

I missed most of the party but I had never experienced anything so sensual and arousing. I didn't want to participate just then. I wanted to drink in the sights. There were flogging racks and I think I would very much like to be rigged to them one day. There were aftercare blankets because the community cares about safety and respect. It was wonderful. I will be back. I can't say I will get to participate very much as the newcomer but I will be back.

Image Credit: Boardwalk Empire

A Place to Call Home

If you can believe it, there are still somethings that frighten me.

My snarky and bullheadedness just leaves and makes way for a girl who is unsure of herself and timid.

I recently found out that there was a swingers club in my town. Of course, in my sexual nature it intrigued me a lot but I wrote it off, thinking that I could never go there. I wouldn't go alone and I surely would find none to go with me.

But then I found the community. I found [Mostly Harmless] and he changed my life.

The "underground" BDSM community that I wanted, that I sought after had been found. It turns out they have lavish parties and meetups and are extremely active yet entirely respectable. I was invited to go to the latest party. I was terrified. I don't like being this girl who doesn't know the ropes and doesn't know what to expect. I don't like being this girl.

So I could have stayed home. I could have been beaten by my own insecurities. But instead, I took my life into my own hands and went to that swingers club for a BDSM lifestyle party. I vaped an entire tank with my vaporizer. I looked like a lost puppy. But it was worth it. I walked into the most erotic scenes of my life. This is a turning point. I feel it.

I had to tell myself again that you can't change your stars without hard work. Exploring your sexuality can be scary and it can be intimidating but I encourage you to do it. Be heteroflexible, be spanked, be tied, be anything you fucking want!

Subspace Nine

Sometimes you have to allow your sexual journey to flow. Or sometimes you have to grab it by the balls and say I'm going to get laid. It was more the latter of those choices when I decided to say yes and get together with [Mostly Harmless].

This meeting though was about a little more than just sex. I was willing and actively seeking to engage in some S&M. I wanted to submit to someone. I wanted to put my body in their hands. I wanted to be punished. And it started with this, a line so dominating in its simplicity, and I was his:


 The next person who shall make you cum is me.And no other. Yourself included.


I didn't know what to do.

I was not scared. But I was nervous. I was lost.

That was when I showed up wearing only my too-short dress, my leather boots, and a willing attitude.

He taught me about safety. He explored my body. And my dominant side shut the fuck up. She let him take her.

And it went that I was whipped. I was spanked, paddled, and flogged. My flesh pricked and teased.

I have never had such a more blissful experience.

That's when I learned about subspace.

In a D/s relationship, [subspace is a] very special place the submissive enters when he/she totally trusts his/her Dominant, and totally immerses in an intense scene. The sub may not be capable of making rational decisions about his/her safety and well-being at this point. It is the responsibility of the Dom to provide for the welfare of his/her sub, as he/she has trusted him to do. It is also the Dom's responsibility after the scene to help the sub to return to "vanilla space" after the scene. This entails providing both physical and emotional assurance to the sub, until he/she regains his/her sense of self, and is known as, "aftercare".

It had been so long since someone had cared about my experience instead of what was just between my legs that I was drunk on endorphins. I let my soul connect to the pain and beat some of the negativity out of me. And when he introduced me to a wartenberg wheel, I had found a simple addiction. It was the was the same high that I would get from a tattoo needle sawing across my flesh.

I couldn't think straight. I couldn't SEE straight. And I was loud.

And as we lay there, waiting for my sanity to bring me back to reality I was warm, cuddled, and petted. We talked and touched and slowly the world came back but I was exhausted, beyond empty.

It was the most sexually satisfied I've ever been without having intercourse and I see the beauty in that. I can't even be sassy about it because I left her at home. That night was about the other side of me and that is okay, too.