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

Hunting a minx

Laughing fills the air with silver echoes..

The hunter waits… concealed by coat and hat… keen eyes watch from afar…

He has time..

A flash of movement.. pale white wrapped tight in leather and silk, then she is gone…

The scent lingers.. he has her trail.

Smooth and slow.. he must not alarm his pray..

The tracks are faint.. he kneels.. fingertips trace the outline..

Heels… six inches…

Ears perk.. the rustle of satin from ahead.. he is close..

Vanilla and amber fill the air..

He moves quickly now.. turning his feet to let his steps make no sound.. hand closing on the hilt..

Soon.. he will have her..

She stops, head lifting.. chest riseing and falling.. eyes widen.. a hunter… close..

Her eyes narrow.. teeth flash in a grin..

The muscles of his legs quiver with tension… he sees her now…

Closer…

DANGER! She bolts.. supple legs pound the earth.. frantic.. laughing..

Blood rushes…the hunter moves..

The infinite moment unfolds.. time slows.. the hunter leaps.. gravity has forgotten him..

The seconds strech..

The corner of her vision blurs.. he is close! RUN! RUN FASTER! The air burns..

An eternity between heartbeats…

A lion in flight.. the hunter roars with anticipation…Weapon unsheathed he tackles his pray.

SMACK!

Pinning her with his knee he twists her arm behind her back.. the minx squeals in mock protest..

Silk rips.. she is exposed..

SMACK! smack, smack, smack… her ass burns as he leans low.. pressing her hard into the carpet.

She moans… her lips quivering..

His voice is the whisper of distant thunder….

“Minx.. you are about to have a vary.. vary… bad day…. and I will enjoy it immensely”

She shudders…. “yes sir”

Kink 109

Gags.

This can be anything from the simple to the complex and mechanical. They can serve a veriaty of purposes from quieting a submissive to inflicting discomfort or humiliation. Gags are used to manipulate the mouth of a submissive, ether to block it or to keep it open.

They can be used to muffle or silence,

Or to force a sub to be unable to hold back their voice.

They can be sexual,

Decorative,

Restrictive,

Painful,

Humiliating,

And can be made from anything. A sock, a stick and some rope, or even chopsticks and rubberbands.

Still want to lip off to your dom?

Better hope he doesn’t read my blog. 😏

Best wishes -SirHanz

To Approach or to be Approached

A thought struck me as I was in the shower this morning. Part of the problem when looking for a submissive or dominant is the approach.

When looking for a dominant or a submissive it varies wildly person to person if they prefer to approach a potential partner or if they would rather be approached. There are good arguments for both on the sub and dom sides.

From the sub side, waiting for a dom to approach you makes you feel submissive as the dom is in control of if and when they choose to speak to you. On the other side though… you are forcing a dom to come to you if they want to talk. Is that submissive? Shouldn’t you be the one to approach the dom and offer conversation? This gives the dom the power to accept or decide without being forced to come to you.

See? Good arguments for both.

From the dom side, approaching a potential partner let’s you feel in control and shows them you are confident. On the other side… waiting to be approached shows you are comfortable with who you are and a potential partner needs to show that they are interested in submitting to you before you consider that.

Different styles for different doms.

I myself find that I prefer a sub to be the one to approach me. It shows interest and a willingness to serve before the first word is said. Some think of this as acting aloof, but to me if a submissive is not willing to pluck up their courage and talk to me then they probably are a passive not an active submissive and that’s not what I am looking for.

What about you? Where do you fall on this spectrum? I am curious to know what side your on and your reasons behind it.

Best wishes -SirHanz

Kink 103

And now we come to number three on my kink list…

The high heel shoe.

Now this is not a shoe fetish as much as the effect a woman wearing them presents.

I am not going to list all the great different types of high heels.. you already know them. They come in so many styles and shapes that we could be here listing them for days.

Instead let’s look at the effects they have on a womans body. They tighten the leg muscles causing the calf and thigh to appear more shapely. The ass tightens and relaxes to a greater degree as a woman walks in them giving it an alluring look. And they are usually uncomfortable to wear. That’s where the bdsm and kink aspect comes in.


I have already said that I am a sadist. So haveing a submissive walk around in something uncomfortable that makes her legs look amazing pleases me on sooo many different levels. And the more uncomfortable or hard to walk in they are.. the more I enjoy it. Part of this comes from the visual appeal and part from the knowledge that she is doing something difficult, uncomfortable, or painful just to please me. That kind of devotion is incredibly sexy. And one of the best parts for me is that I didnt ask the submissive to wear them. They did it all on their own just for my enjoyment.

So next time a dominant asks you to dinner and you want to impress.. a short skirt with 5 inch heels, or if you have them.. ballet heels.. will definitely make them happy.

Best wishes -SirHanz

The Hate Fuck

Sometimes… for whatever reason… a dominant will be frustrated, angry, bitter, or just general pissed about something.

And that’s when, with full knowledge of what they are in for… a submissive may offer a gift.

The gift of the hate fuck.

Now let me be clear here.. I do not condone or excuse anger or frustration in the bounds of any bdsm dynamic. However… doms are people. And sometimes.. something happens that makes them angry or bitter. And when that happens, one of the greatest gifts a submissive can give is to offer themselves as an outlet for that feeling.

I will not say this is safe. Or without risk. You have a dom who is not in control and you are trying to bring them back from the brink. And to do that you are offering yourself as a vessel for them to take out all that anger and frustration.

It will be rough.. brutal.. and probably leave you brused and hurting. This is not something to aspire to or to seek out. It is consensual abuse. But that doesn’t make it not abuse.

And with all that said.. it works. I almost wish it didn’t, but it does. And when it’s over and you are exhausted and hurting… your not done. Because if your dom has a decent bone in their body they will be horrified by what they just did to you. And they will drop. Hard. And once again you will need to pull them back from the brink. (See domdrop post) even as you are hurting you will offer love and assurance that you are ok and did this freely as a gift to them.

And it will never happen again. Your dom will feel guilt, even if you tell them it’s ok. (Unless they are a psychopath) they will make shure they are never angry or bitter around you again. Not for fear of what they may do to you.. but for what you may let them do.

While this is a phenomenal gift.. it is also a lesson. A lesson on the price someone dear to them will pay for their lack of control.

And as a submissive do not feel as though you need to be able to or even should give this gift. It is simply a choice. And there is no shame in walking away from an angry pissed off dom.

Best wishes. -SirHanz

DomDrop

This is more common than most doms would like to admit. And it can be just as devastating as subdrop. The difference being most doms deal with it themselves because they dont want to burden or show weakness to their sub. If the dom drops quite a bit and the sub is unaware of the warning signs this can be catastrophic for their dynamic.

When a dominant drops they can experience feelings of failure, inadequacy, frustration, depression, and fear. During a drop they will often seem agitated, angry, or saddened for no apparent reason. They may lash out at those around them (agression to cover up the feelings they dont want to have). Or they may retreat from contact or conversation. (Any additional warning signs that you may know would be appreciated in the comments)

Now for the hard part… you have identified that your dom is dropping… what do you do?

This is a difficult one because it varies so much between doms what they need when they are dropping. The best thing to do is talk to your dom beforehand and find out what they would like you to do if you notice them dropping. For most there are a few things that help. Contact.. depending on your dynamic that may mean different things, a hand on their leg… kneeling with cheek pressed agenst their thigh.. massaging their shoulders… it can take many different forms.

The second is the willingness to brake a rule or protocol even if it means getting punished in order to show them your devotion. If they want you to leave.. dont. If they lash out at you.. tell them lashing out is not ok but you will accept it from them as proof of your devotion. These are just examples, you will have to decide what is the best way to help your dom yourself.

The third is sometimes an option sometimes not. You can reach out to another dom that understands dom drop and ask them to talk them through it. Keep in mind you are vary likely to be punished for doing this. Depending on your dominant possibly severely. They will often view it as a breach of trust, especially when they are in the middle of dropping and not thinking straight. So be prepared for that.

Here are some things to say to a dom that is dropping that may help.

I am ok.

I love you.

Thank you.

I am not hurt.

You are amazing.

I enjoyed our play.

Would you like me to clean up?

I am always here for you.

Dominants need aftercare too. We put a lot of time, effort, and thought into being good doms. This can be exhausting. Part of the reason you serve is to lessen the other burdens that they carry so that they can be better dominants to you.

Hope this helps someone out there.

Best wishes -SirHanz