Valentines Day remnants.
When safewords are ignored
I’m a relatively inexperienced top. I haven’t had many kinky lovers. I haven’t spent much time in the sf bdsm scene. I haven’t been to many public/semi-public play parties. Still, I’ve seen what Maggie is talking about.
I’ve seen the effects of the “difficult bottom” mentality. It has taken me longer to convince some bottoms that it is okay to use a safeword than it has to convince them to play with me. Even then, they apologize profusely for using a safeword and act as though they’ve done something wrong.
A friend described a shoot to me once and said that it was so terrible that she had to call “red,” and it was the only time she ever did that. Proud that she never used a safeword before. That idea, the “only time I ever used a safeword” struck me as odd. In context, she was talking about how professional most people she’d worked with were. But, the idea that using a safeword was somehow taboo always bothered me.
As a bottom, it’s great that you’re tough and can take a beating. However, that isn’t the measure of a good bottom, for me. “Good” here meaning “one with whom I would like to play”. I want a communicative bottom. I want a bottom that will tell me that she doesn’t like canes or whips or anal or breath play. As a top, I want my partner to enjoy the scene at least as much as I am. I need to know what she likes. I need to know when I’m going too far. I need the bottom to communicate that to me, and she needs to feel comfortable doing so. This can’t happen if bottoms are conditioned against using safewords; against saying “no”.
The idea that there is something wrong with you because you communicate when you’re uncomfortable during a scene is ludicrous. Especially if the scene is straying outside the negotiated boundaries. The idea that there is something wrong with a bottom who uses a safeword needs to end.
I think it goes without saying (I’ll go ahead and say it, anyway) that tops ignoring safewords needs to end, as well. I can’t imagine something more obviously wrong than negotiating boundaries and alerts for when those boundaries are breached, or have changed, and then ignoring those negotiations in such an intimate setting.
if you need a safe word, then you shouldn’t be playing.
Don’t agree. The same partner can react differently to the same kind of play. Where something is super hot one session, the exact same thing causes an unhealthy panic the next. I’m exceptionally perceptive and empathetic. I can usually detect the kind of shift I’m referencing. There are still times when a safeword is necessary.
Sometimes (maybe a lot of the time), it’s about pushing limits. Again, even a well-known partner’s limits change. One session, you want to push the limits, and the safeword works to redefine the new limits. The places you go that were beyond your previous comfort zone.
There are things that happen with your partners’ mental states that you can’t always know. Things that they don’t even expect or realize prior to it happening. I don’t care how well-adjusted your mental and emotional states are, there are things about you that you don’t fully understand or even know exist. This is partly the allure of bdsm and alternative lifestyles. They can be a gateway to further exploration of the self. Sometimes, that exploration takes you down a path you’re not ready to go down. Thus, the safeword.
fencing by Photo393 Studio
via the protagonist
The epee always leaves the best bruises, too.
Ned and Maggie Mayhem of meetthemayhems.com
Big fan of Maggie’s. We’ve never met, just exchanged a few emails. I like what she’s doing with all of her various blogs and websites, and I love what she’s doing with porn. More importantly, she’s been a good friend to Lilla.
(via moremaggiemayhem)
Charlotte
Long before she was Charlotte Vale, she was an 18 year old girl, new to college and confused about these rape fantasies and desires to be hurt. She was my second kinky lover. I was her second lover. We fucked without kink a few times. She gave me her first blowjob. I can’t tell you the details. I don’t remember them well enough. I do remember that she swallowed.
The first time I tied her up, we were both drunk. I used a dark green army-issue scarf that I had stolen when I got out (such a rebel). I crudely tied her hands with the ends and wrapped the middle around the top bed post on the dorm’s bunk beds. Her face was pressed against the cheap wood and she balled as I fucked her in the ass. No lube. No prep. I remember my cock was worn raw the next day. I can’t imagine how her ass felt.
When she started to enjoy it, I pulled out and took the scarf off of the bedpost and threw her down on the floor and started to jack-off. She sat up on her knees and played with my balls with her bound hands. I pulled her head back and told her to open her mouth. I came on her face and in her mouth. I shoved my cock into her mouth, not knowing what else to do.
I wonder what would have happened if we’d stayed lovers. That is, of course, the curse of the one who walks away.
I did not do the wrong thing. I did not feel as strongly as she did about us. I was afraid of my kinkyness. I was sure I was bad for her, not from the kink, from my own feelings of inadequacy. She was not strong enough, yet, to keep me from drifting off in those thoughts.
I doubt she would have become Charlotte Vale. Her “in” to the industry was a lover she had after me. Porn was never something I really got into. I watched some in the army, downloaded the occasional clip. I still haven’t gotten into it, despite most of my friends’ current involvement in it.
Poor in a tourist destination, probably. She would have carried on with her accounting. I doubt I would have pursued law.
Or maybe nothing. Not even the close friendship we now have.
Yeah, something like this. Thanks itqh. :)
(Source: questcequecestqueca, via in-the-quiet-house)
Recovering
I pulled out of her mouth and the initial shot of cum went across her left cheek, into her hair and her ear. I continued to jerk-off as the cum dribbled off of my cock and down my hand into her open mouth and closed eyelids. I put my cock back into her mouth. She tongued the tip and sucked at the already-softening shaft. I reached over her and grabbed a towel and wiped off my hand. I pulled out of her mouth after twitching a few more times, and she wiped her head on the towel as I held it for her. Once I was satisfied that she wasn’t going to get any in her eyes, I reached behind her to untie her hands.
“No,” she mumbled.
“You don’t want me to untie you?”
“No. Hurt me. Please.”
Her work had burnt her out. We still fucked at least 2 times a day, but there was much less in the way of pain, and only occasional bondage. This was a welcome treat. I switched to my cruel, command voice.
“Fine. Remember, you brought this on yourself, Cunt.” She lay on her side, so I started punching her exposed upper-arm. Her breathing became deliberate as she processed the pain. She started to screech and resist, pulling against her bound wrists, trying to get away from my fists. I rolled her on her stomach and sat on her hands. I pounded her upper back with my fists, hitting her between her shoulder blades and spine. It made hollow thumping sounds, and she moaned and tried to throw me off.
I hit her until her back glowed red, and then rolled her over on her back and grabbed her hair at the top of her head and jerked her forward until her head was against my cock.
“Open,” I commanded, and grabbed my cock, moving it back and forth against her clenched lips. She kept mouth closed tight.
“I said, ‘open,’ bitch!” I threw her back down and punched her three times in the chest. She screamed. I grabbed her hair and pulled her up again. This time, she opened her mouth and I slid my hardening cock into it. Still gripping her hair at the top of her head, I jerked her head back and forth on my cock, using her mouth, her whole head, like a toy. She was not a person, just a hole to fuck. She could have been anyone, anything.
“What are you?” I demanded, and pulled her off so that she could speak. She said nothing at first, and just tried to catch her breath. I repeated myself.
“I don’t know,” she mumbled.
“You don’t know? I’ll fucking tell you what you are, you little bitch. You’re my fuck-toy, now. You hear that? You’re not a person, you’re a hole to fuck. You exist for my pleasure now, you fucking Cunt. You’re my fuck-toy, and nothing more.” I buried my cock deep into her throat, pressing her nose against my pelvis until her whole body convulsed violently with her gag reflex. I threw her off and she gasped, trying to curl her body into a ball.
I leaned in close to her ear and checked-in, “are you okay?” She nodded. I changed back to my rough voice, “good.”
Curled up on her side, I started punching her ass-cheeks. She reached down with her bound hands to try and protect herself, so I held her hands there and punched them until she started screaming and rolled over onto her back. I drug her by her hair to the edge of the bed so that her head hung over and fucked her mouth again, pausing deep inside of her throat until she convulsed. I pulled my cock out and put her head between my legs and stood over her.
“Lick.” She did nothing. I slapped at her tits until she started screaming again. “I said ‘lick’, Bitch,” and I leaned forward so that my balls were in her mouth. She started licking and sucking on them as I reached over and slid two fingers into her wet pussy. She began to moan with pleasure and I moved my hand and slowly fingered her clit. She stopped licking and just moaned. I waited until she was about to cum and stopped. She yelled.
“Shut up, you fucking cunt. I never said you could stop licking.” I stood and started hitting her tits again, this time aiming for her super-sensitive nipples. She started screaming.
“You’re still not licking,” and I punched her in her chest a few times until she started licking my taint. She leaned her head back and started licking my asshole, and I fingered her again. This time, she didn’t stop licking until right when she came. I gave her some room, and she writhed on the bed, twitching and convulsing. Her whole body was like a giant nerve, now, and I knew that wherever I touched her it would be too much. I slapped her ass until she begged me to stop. I knelt on the bed by her head when she finally lay still. She leaned her head in and nustled it against my legs. I began to jack-off my painfully-hard cock. Her back was bright red, and she would lovingly bear the bruises on her arm, showing them off to our kinky friends when we visited them a few days later.
She smiled as I shot cum across her left cheek, into her hair and her ear.