Boy

There once was a boy. Not an ordinary boy.. this boy was special. Well of course he is special I hear you thinking, you dont write about ordinary boys.

Let us look closer.. why was he special? What made him different than all the other boys? Follow me I say.. let us examine him.. and we will both find out together.

The first thing we notice is how he is dressed. Black jacket folded and laying beside him on the bench at the back of the club. His shirt is a deep red, you may think it black untill the lights from the dancefloor catch along his chest showing it’s true color. Simple black pants with boots laced up to just below the knee.

He sits with his hands folded in his lap, back straight and head tipped slightly to listen to the music. A slight smile just touches his lips. The buzz of people swirling through the club seem to flow like water around him. He looks like he is waiting.

A few times he is approached by this or that girl or lady offering to dance or get him a drink. He just smiles and shakes his head thanking them kindly for their interest but politely declining. He looks at the door in anticipation, for you see.. he was early. He was to meet her at nine, he checks his watch seeing the seconds tick down. 3. 2. 1. Nine o clock. He quickly slips the timepiece back in his pocket and places his hands back in his lap trying to hide the tremor of nervousness.

He looks at the floor, his gaze fixed on the grain of the wood. He dares not look.. what if she isn’t there? He cant help but fidget as he waits… is she here? Is she looking for him? What if she doesn’t see him and leaves? What if she saw him and thought he was ugly? What if she is already… there are feet in front of him, he didn’t notice he was so caught up in thought. Black heels.. he slowly raises his gaze. Black lace following the lines of her legs.. the hem of her dress.. black with silver switching. Higher.. the gentle curve of hips.. waist clad in leather..

Suddenly she kneels and is looking into his eyes. Her! It was her! She came! And.. and.. oh lord she is hot.. where do I look? Am I being rude? Does she want me to look? A flustered blush rises in his cheeks but he cant look away. His heart feels like it’s trying to strangle his lungs.. pounding.. breathless. He can stand it no longer, her gaze is predatory.. full of heat and promise. Too much! He looks away blushing fiercely.

Now for shure she will hate him he thinks. He is a coward, she would never want a coward. A single tear of helpless frustration slowly rolls down his cheek. She slips onto the bench next to him, pressing her body close. Her face is again before him.. so close he can feel her breath on his lips. Her eyes are alight! Glittering in the flashing neon. Her hand catches his neck tipping his head back and to the side. His eyes close, his body relaxing into her grip. Warmth.. his chin.. his cheek.. what is.. oh.. oh! The reality hit him like a two by four across the forehead. She was licking the path of his tear..

He groaned, his blood sang in his vains. His hands clenched the wooden edge of the bench. She leaned closer.. her breasts pushing up against his chest and whispered in his ear “tonight.. you are mine. I know your secret. And I will have… everything.” His breath was short, panicked.. his eyes darted around to room looking for escape. She knows! How can she know! He needed to move! To run! His brain was screaming.. run you fool!

But her touch.. her soft warmth.. held him more surely than chains of iron. Again she spoke, her hot breath on his ear sending a shiver through him “you will follow in five minutes.. I will be waiting. ” then her warmth was gone and he was left to gape as he watched the sway of her hips as she made her way across the room and out the door.

Five minutes.. he could run.. but what if she was telling the truth? What if she knew?

Four minutes.. wait.. she knew.. and she wanted him anyway?

Three minutes.. what to do.. run.. or…

Two minutes.. crap! Not enough time!

He grabbed his jacket and threw it on.

Weaving through the crowd he was careful not to touch anyone slipping on black gloves as he walked with hesitant steps toward the door.

Pushing through the heavy oak of the door he was momentarily blinded by the brightness of the streetlight. He held up his hand to block to brightness, through the gap between his gloved fingers he could see a car siting at the curb. The door to the passenger side facing him opened. Her voice carried though he couldn’t see her in the dark interior “get in.”

It wasn’t to late.. he could still run.. he could still…. the feeling of her hand on his neck still lingered. He got in the car, and carefully closed the door shutting out the tumult of the streets. Her voice was soft but it carried in the quiet of the car “I’m glad you didnt run. I would have found you. But I’m glad I didnt have to. I know your scared.. but you are doing well.” As she spoke she reached over and took his hands, slowly pulling the gloves from his skin. “Yes.. I know what these are for.” She drew his hand closer and placed it on her thigh. He bit his lip to suppress the rush he felt. He could taste copper. She left his hand apon her as she put the car in drive and pulled out into trafic. The drive was a blur of flashing lights and darkness, and through it all his eyes never left the shadow of her face. He couldn’t remember.. how long had it been.. his hand was still resting lightly on the bare skin of her leg, his chest felt like it was about to burst. Everything was so clear.. so alive.

They had stoped. How long had they been stopped? She gently lifted his hand from her skin. Reality snapped back into focus, he was left feeling diminished. He spoke for the first time “w.. where are we?”

“We are at the beginning.” She said as she slipped out of the car. He still wasn’t shure quite what was happening but he knew it felt different.. good. The night air was cool and smelled vaguely of jasmine as he stepped out of the car. The gravel crunched under his boots as he followed the lady under the low hanging branches of trees, silent in the darkness but for the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Now they were on a trail, winding upward as the forest grew dense around them.

Turning a corner her found her standing before a small house nestled in the trees. He could see a dim light through the window and there was a faint smell of wood smoke in the air. “Do you live here?” He asked, feeling a bit more himself among the trees. She chuckled as she unlocked the door “no.. it is mine but I dont live here. I just thought you would be more comfortable here.” He nodded as he followed her, accepting it for what it was.. it was true after all. But how had she known? As he entered she shut the door behind him. He heard the click of a lock. “You do realize that I ment what I said.. tonight you are mine. I think you know already it is too late to run.” Her soft voice carried across the room as she bent to stoke the fire in the hearth. “Yes.. I made my choice when I got in the car.” He said, his eyes following the light of the fire as it came to life and danced yellow and orange across her bare shoulders.

“When I got your letter telling me to meet you at the club and that you knew about me.. I came because I was curious. Please.. how much do you know? And how could you possibly know as much as you do?” He removed his coat and hung it on the hook beside the door as he talked. Her vary presence was enough to muddle his words if he didnt look away.

She sat on the small sofa facing the fire and patted the space next to her “sit. It will be easier to show you how I know” He nodded, still trying not to look directly at her for fear he would be lost in her beauty and unable to think. He sat next to her, again feeling her closeness. “Look at me.” she said, and he couldn’t deny that voice. He looked.. the light was perfect, framing her features and highlighting the curve of her neck and shoulders. She was magnificent. Entranced he could only watch as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

He was lost.. and found all at once. In that moment when time has lost all meaning, wraped in the pleasure of her kiss.. he knew. It flowed between them building apon itself getting stronger, more intense. She was like him. What had always only passed from them to him now boiled like a furnace in his chest. To much! With a gasp of breath he broke the kiss, falling backwards onto the floor. The clarity of her passion still burned within him. Oh.. but for just one more taste, he would risk his vary soul.

She slipped the heels from her feet and stood over him as he tried to catch his breath. She ran her hands across her shoulders and down her arms. Pulling the fabric of her dress downward, exposing the swell of her chest. She smiled.. it wasn’t a soft smile, it was the smile of the wolf about to dine apon the rabbit. She knelt and sat astride him, the black lace of her dress settling across him. Her hands found the collar of his shirt and with a jerk buttons popped and flew. The warmth of the fire danced apon his skin, spreading its light and reflecting the fire in her eyes.

His need grew.. feeding and multiplying with each passing moment. She could feel it as well.. he was shure of that now. Her delicate fingers rested apon his chest over his heart. Her touch was tender.. but her heart was not.. almost violent desire poured from her in a torrent. He couldn’t help it, his back arched.. pressing his skin against hers.

She giggled, actually giggled! There was joy in that sound. Her hand left him as she slid backwards down his legs to sit apon his ankles. She worked quickly, undoing his belt and dragging the zipper downward…. with a steady pull she left him completely exposed. The amber light of the fire hid his blush, but nothing could hide the desire that stood before her. His hands came up to hide his face, he was shure he would die of embarrassment. The sound of her voice drifted to him mixing with the crackle of the fire. “Oh.. you are just too sweet..” she leaned to the side pulling his pants down to his ankles and synching his belt tight around them. He had to see what she was doing. He slowly peeked around his hands, she was again sitting astride his legs. Her breasts hung seductively before him. Her breathing was still restricted by the corset hugging her shapely waist causing her chest to lift with each shallow breath.

He felt the anticipation thrilling them both. She crawled up his body, stalking him.. cornering her pray. His hard flesh was hidden beneath the fall of her dress as she came to face him. She grabbed his wrists and forced them down, pinning his hands to the floor. They were now face to face.. inches apart. Her eyes were a hungry golden in the fire light, devouring the storm tossed blue gray that looked back at her.

He felt heat.. wetness.. just barely touching him.. underneath her dress. He bit his lip to suppress a moan as he realized she wasn’t wearing anything beneath her… she kissed him.. and pressed herself hard downward. They both felt the rush. Gasping mouths locked as both their bodies went ridged. Pleasure surged upward, tieing them together and threatening to overwhelm them.

She broke their kiss and trailed her lips across his chin and down his neck, slowly rocking her hips to press against him. His mind was white, it was so far past his control. Mental hands felt for anything to grab hold of but it was like trying to catch a raging wind. It was all he could do to hold his ground as he was slowly being consumed by the gale.

She moved faster, pressing down apon his wrists to lift herself, then pushing him inside her with reckless abandon. He could feel the tightness and heat.. somehow not being able to see beneath the dress made it even more erotic. He felt her gasping breath at his neck, he felt the silky skin of her chest rubbing agenst his. She moaned from deep within her, the sound vibrating up through his body.

Her need was like molton metal in his vains.. igniting his own and burning him from within. He felt her hands grip tighter, her nails digging into his flesh. The pain was exquisite pleasure in the moment… and then he felt her teeth. She cried out, convulsing in orgasmic bliss and sank her teeth into the tender flesh of his neck.

His mind and body let go. His eyes rolled back in overwhelming pleasure, his breath was gone. His hips pushed upward, driving himself into her and grinding against her as his lust for her pulsed with her body and mind. She lay atop him, her tounge teaseing the mark apon his neck as he spent himself inside her. She let go of his hands and layed her head apon his chest, she was filled.. content.. he wraped his arms around her. Holding her to him. She closed her eyes relaxing into his embrace. He was still inside her as they both fell into the depths of sleep.

But they were not alone in their dreams.. they were connected now. Bound with chains no hammer could break. Hand in hand.. they walked into the misty forest of sleep. And they both knew.. they would stay.. just like this.. forever.

I told you the boy was special.

Best wishes.. -SirHanz

Anticipation

Its Saturday night, I have already done my exercise for the day and now I am board. . . . . So why not talk about bondage?😁 what shall we look at tonight.. how about… anticipation.

This can be both a wonderful thing ( butterfly’s before meeting someone you like) or a torture. (You know you did wrong, your dom knows.. but hasn’t done anything….. yet…) sometimes it can even make the actual punishment seem like a relief (dom said that they would punish you for your behavior… next week…and didnt tell you what your punishment was to be).

It can be the carrot (in a bdsm context this has a whole new meaning) or the stick (same meaning, different flavor)

You can anticipate a fun play time, or anticipate a punishment. And a skillful dom can use it like a surgeon to reshape behavior and focus the submissive on their submission.

Want your sub to stop doing something? Tell them you will not talk to them until you feel they are properly sorry for what they have done. Double whammy. They anticipate the relief when you finaly talk to them again. And they squerm because they dont know how long that will be or what they will have to do to make it right. Sadistic? Yer damm right. But like with any sadistic behavior you have to be careful how and to who you apply it. Some submissives respond well to it some do not and it can be crippling if applied to the wrong type of personality. Just one of the many reasons it is so incredibly important to get to know your sub.

Anticipating my next post?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

-SirHanz

Responsibility

This is a tough concept for some doms to wrap their head around. I’m not talking about paying Bills and other general adulting. Oh no.. I speak of the responsibility of a dom to his sub. That’s the deal you see.. the sub gives you power, control, pleasure, happiness. And in return the dom is responsible for the sub. But what does that mean?

It may change a bit from one dom to the next but here are the things it should always cover.

As a dom you are responsible for..

The general happiness of the submissive.

The continued growth of the submissive.

The health and fitness of the submissive.

The fulfillment of the submissives desires.

The safety of the submissive.

The mental health of the submissive.

Sounds like a lot of work doesn’t it? Well.. it is. A good domanent enjoys the work but it can still be exhausting. And I here you newer doms out there thinking “but wouldn’t that mean the dom is serving the sub?” In a way we do. But the difference is that everything we do is by our own will. We dont do these things because we are asked, or forced. We choose to take responsibility. And how we live up to those responsibilities is our choice.

Best wishes -SirHanz

Nice guy problems

So now that I am back on the market per say I am reminded of challenges I have faced in the past when trying to find a submissive partner. The foremost of these is that I am a nice guy.

Now usually that is an attractive quality in a man. But i have found that often in the bdsm community it is actually a hindrance. Especially if the submissive is new.

Correct me if i am wrong.. but i have noticed a lot of submissives build an image of their ideal dom in there head. If you are a single submissive reading this then take a moment and think about what this ideal dom looks and acts like..

I will bet you a spanking not one of you thought you wanted a nice guy. For some reason “nice” doesn’t mix with fantasy. And fantasy is how we choose reality. When is the last time someone held the door for you and you thought “damm I bet he is a good dom” …. nope. Not gonna happen. But when a guy is acting like he is entitled to the submission of everyone in the room then that’s hot? Why is that? The guy is obviously an asshat. But first impressions matter. And his first impression is “dom”. And the nice guy’s impression is “oh.. that was nice of him.. now let’s go back to looking at the dom”

Now I am not saying that all submissives want to be with an asshat. Some do, and to each their own. But most if you ask them what they want in a dom they will describe the nice guy.

So where’s the disconnect? Why want the nice caring dom and yet totally ignore him for the angry asshat? I have actually heard a submissive say “dont talk to him, he looks like he would be too nice.” *facepalm* seriously?? Now with online dating fortunately it forces you to write a profile and you can usually sort the good from the bad. But in person.. we dont come with a profile.

So next time your getting hit on by 3 doms at once and just loveing the attention, take a step back and notice the guy who was polite enough not to hit on you when you were already being bombarded by “submit to me now” instadoms. Because let me tell you.. more than likely, they dont want to make you happy.

Food for thought.

Best wishes. -SirHanz

Punishment.

What do you do with a submissive that will not listen.. or says something inappropriate.. or fails to complete a task…

You guessed it. It’s time for the dom to step in and correct the behavior. This can take many forms depending on the submissive and what they enjoy and dislike. Intensity is also a factor. Take this scenario… a sub that enjoys getting spanked misbehaves. Do you spank them? Most would think no, use a different punishment. But the devious dom (me) would spank them. At first they enjoyed it.. then a little less.. now they are openly weeping and pleading.. then they are promising never to do it again. A second example.. the sub realy likes toys. Tie them up and tie a toy pressed hard against them. Turn it on and leave the room. Check in on them in an hour and see of they are sorry yet. Or still able to form coherent thought. Using this method of turning something the submissive enjoys into a punishment avoids the paradox of punishing a submissive. I refer to the idea that you cant punish a sub that enjoys the punishment.

This is something doms with a massocist sub especially have to deal with. How do you punish if they enjoy the pain? Simple.. dont give it to them. Ignore them. This is by far one of the most cruel things a dom can do to a sub. Or make them write an apology to themselves for being so disobedient and causing themselves suffering. (This can work wonders)

Punishments can range over a widespread spectrum of things from writing…

To spanking..

To being tight laced into a corset for a set period of time.

To corner time..

To sexual acts that the submissive doesn’t like or are painful.

To pubic humiliation…

Part of the dread that a submissive feels when they are told they are going to be punished is the anticipation and not knowing what the dom will do.

Delaying punishment is another technique that works well. Telling the submissive that they will be punished and showing your displeasure but not telling them when leaves them to stew on the feelings of failure and disappointment. This can be worse than the actual punishment. Left for long enough the punishment may become a relief from the feelings of guilt. A just punishment helps the submissive to let go of guilt and move forward without all the lingering feelings you find in a more vanilla relationship.

Now let’s talk about a different aspect of punishment. What is the difference between punishment and play. Punishment is designed to modify a bad behavior. Play may use similar elements and sometimes be just as intense, but play is designed to stimulate and increase the feelings of submission in the sub. A lot of it is the headspace the dom guides the submissive into.

After the punishment it is important to talk to the submissive. Explain what they did wrong and how their actions effect your dynamic, themselves, and their dom. Talking after punishment is an essential part of the process. It shows that you care and reinforces the lesson.

Aftercare is particularly important after punishment. Often the worst part of any punishment for a submissive is the feeling of failure and disappointment. It is important that the submissive is not left to spiral down and is made to feel cared about even after makeing a mistake.

Thanks for reading and I hope this helps someone out there.

Best wishes -SirHanz

Kink 114

Submission.

The willingness of a submissive to open themselves to me and give up their will into my hands…. yes. This is my biggest kink.

I have saved this blog for last as i wanted to put a lot of thought into it. So take my hand and let me show you what submission is to me, and why it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

It all starts with desire.. the desire to let go… let go of control.. let go of fear.. let go of responsibilities.. let go of thought.. and just feel. No living in denial of secret needs.. no more haveing to wear the mask that you show the world. Completely free to be your deep down real self. The self that wants to be loved, protected, fucked, given honesty and trust, given permission to revel in your darkest desires and then comforted as you lay exhausted, the you that wants to just let go of everything knowing someone will let you just feel and keep you from harm, the you that wants all this more than anything but cant take the step off the cliff.

And that’s where the dominant comes in. We give that push. We push right up to the edge… then holding your hand… ask you to jump.

Through time and communication we build the trust that allows the submissive to no longer have to think about if it is something to fear or shy away from, it is enough to know that it is our will and to know we would never bring them to harm.

And when they let go and step smiling from the edge of the cliff.. *sigh* the word beauty is pale and sickly compared to how they look through my eyes.. there is no word that I can conjure that holds that feeling of awe. This gift.. so freely given.. this life.. cradled in ny hands.. extraordinary. To hold such control over another person, and know that they want that… it is both humbling and exaltent.

I could talk about what a submissive does or how they act but to me that’s not what makes submission such a kink to me. Shure.. I enjoy those things… quite a lot. But to me it’s the headspace.. the mindset.. that I find most exciting. Anyone can do what they are told. A submissive WANTS to do what they are told and gets pleasure from seeing their dom happy. Small gestures like a simple pat on the head or a “well done” mean the world to them. It’s not the words or the gesture that matter… it’s that they came from their dominant. It is the dominant showing his pleasure. And that… is something incredibly special to a submissive.

Many submissives work a long time to reach that mindset. It is part of the dominants enjoyment to teach and guide the submissive. Building them up to be the best version of themselves so they may choose to serve the dominant in more and better ways. It is a difficult road.. but the view is amazing.

For myself it all comes down to choice. Choosing to serve and learn under me is a huge thing to me. I take this responsibility vary seriously, but through it I find the unrestrained affection that I crave. It is the submissive that gives the dominant their power, their control. Without the choice and concent I have neither and would not seek to impose them. To me… forcing submission defeats the purpose. It is a gift. Freely given. Or it is not something I want. But that is just the start. Once the gift has been received and concent given.. I will push. I will dominate. And as long as it doesn’t violate a hard limit, I will absolutely force a submissive to do things. But there is a method.. a goal.. a reshaping of needs.. everything has a purpose.

And for me… that.. is my biggest kink. Submission.

Hope you enjoyed my dive into my own kink list… untill next time..

Best wishes -SirHanz

The bath

The water steams in the cold air, I lay back my head and close my eyes… enjoying the contrast of heat from within and the chill apon my skin…

Tension unfolds.. soap smells of sandalwood… the patter of feet.. a drop of water from the tap.. the splash of the water as she slips into the bath..

I smile..keeping my eyes closed, feeling her smoothness as she slides along my legs and leans back into my chest…

Her hair smells like lavender.. she draws her knees up, turning.. I can feel her breath on my cheek..

Hot water like feathers brushing agenst me.. the feel of her chest on mine.. hands on my shoulders..her breathing is quick..

I whisper… “slowly..” I can feel her frustration.. she growls softly.. hands grip tighter..

A touch beneath the water… she lowers herself… legs shake with need… her lips part..ever so slowly.. down… the heat builds..

“Stop” I feel the command strike her.. she moans.. unmoving….”wash me..” a hint of a smile touches my lips…

Hands.. arms.. chest.. she washes me carefully.. I can feel her hands shake..

Face.. neck… her legs quiver with strain..

Shoulders……… she crys out.. her legs collapse, impaling herself apon me.. I feel her spasm and shake from deep within.. sandalwood and lavender mix…

“Naughty girls…. get punished…” I open my eyes.. strong hands lift her off of me… laying her back in the water..

“Open.” She nods… her tounge is warm.. fingers in her hair.. deeper.. her throat is tight..

Her eyes shine.. she is enjoying this…

I grin as she moans from deep in her chest… she has forgotten… this is punishment..

Faster.. harder.. her hands plunge beneath the water and between her thighs..again she shivers and quakes…

Again she has disobeyed.. she knows that I could see her… use what is mine.. without permission…

The fan cools my skin.. but I am warm within her…faster.. I am close..

Time to punish my naughty girl… hands twist in her hair pulling her firmly against me..

I drop to my knees.. her eyes widen as they are pressed beneath the water..

Supprise… fear… lust.. she knows.. I will not let her breathe till I am done… her mouth tightens frantically…

Wild eyed… her chest heaves for air.. she is beautiful in her desperation… she convulses as I pour out my lust within her…

Pulling her up.. gasping.. panting.. shivering.. i hold her then.. strong arms.. warm water…

In shaking tones.. her voice like bells in the wind.. “thank you sir…i.. will be good…”

It’s cute… she thinks we are done.. i lay back in the water feeling her curl agenst my chest..

The soap surprises her as I press it into her hand.. “do.. it… again..”

She turns.. her eyes pleading.. I smile softly as she lowers herself toward me… her legs feel good against calloused hands..

She slowly draws closer… I shake my head “no… ” she bites her lip and blushes.. she knows what I want…

She leans forward… sandalwood and salty sweat drip into the water.. her blush deepens as she lowers her ass apon me…

A soft gasp as she presses me within her.. “stop.” Her eyes find mine.. “wash me..” trembling hands again slide across my arms and chest..

Her legs start to shake again as she washes…”poor girl… you look tired.. you may sit… slowly..” she groans as she sits.. engulfing me in heat..

Her head is thrown back… beads of water cling to her pale neck… my hands grip her thighs… “I am clean.. ride me.”

She moves slowly at first.. but soon the bath churns as she writhes and grinds herself against my skin..

I draw her to me… kissing the gasping lips.. stifling her cry as I fill her…

She collapses on my chest.. panting quietly….

I let my fingers tangle in her hair.. pulling her head back to look into her glazed eyes.. “Now… we are done.”

Best wishes -SirHanz

The red dress

I saw her their.. waiting at the bar, I knew she would be waiting… she was a good girl.

Her black coat draped over the back of her chair, she wore a red dress.. it had a high collar, long sleeves that clung to shapely arms. My eyes traced form, being drawn magneticly to the cut out down her back showing pale skin down to just above her hips. Her hips… crimson clung to them and flowed like blood downward to end abruptly mid thigh. Her legs were crossed, letting her feet hang just above the floor. Red heels shown in the dim light.. if I did not know it was there I would not have noticed the lock that held them to her feet.

I stood and watched her.. a shining jewel amongst the clamor of the bar. She was nervous, fiddling with her napkin.. looking at her phone to check the time. She had not noticed I was there. I picked up my phone and dialed. She jumped slightly as the phone rang on the bar almost spilling her drink, she fumbled to answer. Her hands shook slightly as she lifted it to her ear. “Hello?” I grinned.. “nice dress..” she glances around trying to find me, “where are you? I dont see you.” I chuckle..”go to the bathroom, take off your panties and come back, pay your tab and leave. I will be waiting in the parking lot.”

I watched through the window as she left the bar. The misty rain formed Pearls of light on her coat as she hurried to the car. I got out, walked around the car letting the headlights intentionally catch the reflection of my eyes. One step more and I stood inches from her.. leaning down I whispered in her ear, “get.. in.. the… car..”

her knees buckled. I was already close so with one arm I caught her and with the other opened the door. Her red dress clung to my fingers as I lowered her into the seat. The smell of her hair… the dazed look in her eyes.. she was exquisite. I shut the door and hurried to the driver’s side, slipping into the seat. I turned to her.. cupping her face in my hand. And kissed her. Her eyes closed relaxing as my lips left hers.. she never even saw the blindfold. She opened her mouth to ask something but I did not give her the chance.. in went the gag. I tied it behind the headrest, binding her head in place to the seat. Now blind and mute she relaxed as i bound her hands.. first one.. then the other. With a quick jerk her hands were pulled behind her and bound tightly behind the seat. I reached over and pulled the lever to lower the backrest, laying her down next to me. Now she was hidden from view.. I turned on the radio to drown out any sound, I slowly unbuttoned her coat and laid it open. There it was… the red dress.. beautiful.. and I was going to ruin it.

Her back was arched with her hands pulled behind her. Her chest pushed upward, she was blind.. mute.. and could not hear the sound of the scissors. A trail of cold metal slowly worked it’s way upwards. It was not until I sniped through her bra that she realized what was happening. I chuckled at her muffled protest, and finished my cut.

Red fell away.. puddleing around her hips and chest.. I started the car. We drove for almost an hour with her like this. Occasionally as we stopped at a light I would reach over and twist her nipple, rolling it between calloused fingers. Or trace my fingernails up her thigh and across her belly and ribs. Finaly we had arrived. I turned off the car, by now she was sweating even in the chill of early night. I got out of the car, walking slowly around to her side. Undoing the binding on her hands I turned her on her side.. now wrapping padded leather cuffs around her wrists and clipping them together. Undoing the gag she gasped “where are we?”. I said nothing. Simply lifting her out of the seat and throwing her naked and blindfolded over my shoulder. I walked for a bit… just to confuse her a little more. We actually made a big circle coming back close to where I had parked the car. And to where I had set up the pulleys and ropes.

I stood her up and unclipped her hands, quickly clipping the cuffs to the rope. Pale moonlight cast a beautiful mosaic of shadows through The trees and across her skin. A jerk of the rope through the locking pulleys and her arms were pulled taught away from her body. Not enough to lift her but just enough to make her toes barely touch the ground. Dried leaves crunched under my boots as I casually walked toward her. I cupped her breast, putting my face close to her neck.. her skin smelled of vanilla. She whimpered, the mist starting to collect on her in tiny droplets like rhinestones in the moonlight. I left her there.. with the feel of hot breath on her neck, and retrieved the cut dress from the car. Carefully making shure she did not hear the door open or close. The red looked gray in the silver light as I bent and tied it around her ankle. A hand on her chest and a little push made her loose her balance. A pull and her foot lifted from the ground, dragged upward by crimson silk. She moaned softly as I secured it next to her wrist.. leavening her balancing on one shining heel. “Are you cold?” I said, finaly speaking. She only nodded letting her head hang forward.

The clink of the belt buckle being undone was an unmistakable sound in the quiet of the misty trees. “Then let me warm you….” the holes in the belt sang as it tore through the air, leather kissed her wet skin with fire. She bit her lip.. her body swaying slightly. The line on the back of her thigh was gray in the moonlit darkness. Again the leather kissed her.. slightly higher than the last. She jerked against the sting, her head snapping up as she realized what was to happen. Now she was babbling.. “oh no.. oh no.. not that.. please sir.. please… please…” I moved in front of her, kissing her frantic lips. A hand delicately touching the wetness and heat between her legs.. teasing.. caressing..

A sudden step back and again the leather bites.. higher.. closer.. now she jerks.. head thrown back, sweat pouring in rivulets across her chest. “Please sir.. anything.. I will.. do.. sir.. please.. not tha” CRACK! Fire engulfs her as leather bites deeply apon her clit. She screams. Sanity has gone, plunging her deep into subspace. She writhes… twisting and jerking in orgasmic bliss. I let her have her moment.. then as she calms, head hanging limply to one side, mouth agape.. I step forward and lower her gently onto the blanket I had placed behind her. Unbinding her foot and arms, gentle kisses fall like rain apon her neck and shoulders. The blindfold is pulled away.. eyes wet with tears and filled with need meet mine… “please sir.. fuck me.. I need it..” she is burning hot as I drive into her… then it is a blur.. fingernails rake.. gasping, moaning. Flesh slaps.. begging.. twisting.. crying.

Heat……….. lust………. bite……. the taste of salt……

We lay on the blanket.. her head on my chest as we looked up at the moon through the clouds and trees. Our breath is slow and even now.. “sir?” Her voice vibrates against my chest. “Yes? My lady?” My smile is soft now as I look down at her wrapped around my side. “Will the neighbors be mad?”

I chuckle and hit the button on my keys to turn on the porch light of the house. “Fuck them, they broke my weedeater.”

Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writeing it.

Best wishes -SirHanz

Kink 113

Collars.

There are many different meanings for collars in the bdsm community. But one thing they all have in common is they say “this is mine”.

The most common collars are these.

1. Collar of protection. The first step in the process. It signals that the submissive is still free to do as they like but are under the watchful eye and protection of a dominant. It is usually something simple, a thin leather band with a ring for example.

2. Collar of consideration. The second step. By accepting a collar of consideration a submissive is saying that they are no longer looking for a dominant, and if the dominant finds her worthy she or he may be taken into service more permanently. Think of it as the bdsm equivalent of something in between a promise ring and an engagement ring. This collar is usually of more substantial design than a protection collar.

3. Collar of ownership. This is usually the Last collar to be given. It has deep meaning in the bdsm community. It shows that the dominant has accepted the submissive as his/hers. This is not something given lightly. It is a symbol of the trust and commitment between the dominant and submissive. It is vary much like a wedding band in bdsm. These collars differ quite a bit depending on the tastes of the dominant and submissive. They can be simple or ornate, metal or leather. The important thing is the meaning it has to the dom that gives it and the sub that wears it.

I myself have one more collar. I have never given it before and am not shure I ever will.

4. The collar of life. I designed this collar myself and maybe one day will find someone devoted enough to wear it. I will make it by hand. (I have some skill as a blacksmith) it will be a Damascus steal band with silver and gold inlay. It has no hinge and must be bent around the neck of the submissive. It has an internal catch lock to close and secure it. It cannot be removed without cutting it off, once it is closed… it is permanent. This is my last collar, the last I will ever give. It is a lifetime commitment to and from the submissive. I have not made it because it must be made to the dimensions of the submissive it is to be given.

Collars in use.

Collars are more than a symbol they are tools for the dominant as well. There are many different kinds with different uses. Some are used like cuffs to secure a submissive into a certain position,

or to make them feel controlled.

Or to enforce discipline.

I am not possessive but I am protective of what is mine. And haveing a collar on a submissive makes them feel safe and cared about while giving the dominant a feeling of control and protectiveness.

Hope you enjoyed this.

Best wishes -SirHanz

The eclipse

Black leather creaks, he carefully spreads the oil.

Metal clicks softly as he cleans his tools…

Rope in a coil, whip and crop..

Thin chain, clips and cuffs..

All made ready… all placed just so,

For the moon is rising…

Candle light dances, the scent of amber..

A quiet knock, she is here..

Gentle pressure.. his hands weave patterns of moonlight as they bind and twist,

Leather tightens.. rope bites flesh.. she shudders, exquisite in her anticipation…

He steps back.. eyes follow the curves of his creation.. she is perfect…

And the light shifts, silver turning to honey… he raises the whip..

His hand falls, trails of fire and passion etched on skin and mind..

A cry torn from pleasure and agony escapes into the night..

And honey turns to crimson..

He takes her there.. in the place where thoughts have no meaning..

Time is lost… he bends to kiss jeweled salt from her lips..

Breath on her ear.. a whisper.. “good girl”..

And she is free.

Best wishes -SirHanz