100 Years of Lingerie

Check out this video on the 100 years of lingerie:

Like most of these videos, this one simplifies things but it is a fun video and the ending makes it worthwhile.

I am a fan of the 1995 outfit myself.



When I write notes to people at work, I like to provide “the short answer” and the “long answer”.

So here is my short answer for after care:  just do it.  Do not start a scene, event, or session if you are not prepared to provide care to those involved when it is over.

Now, the long answer:  When you enter into a BDSM activity it is a lot like running a long distance, climbing a mountain, jumping out of a plane for the first time, or any other challenging activity.

It can be mentally and/physically exasusing and in this case the individual who is submitting to you is giving up the control they would have in those activities to pause for a moment or stop at a water station.

It is up to the Dominant to care for the submissive before (discuss, prepare and come to agreement on what will happen), during (make sure they are OK (watch for loss of circulation, negative reactions, and displeasure beyond and pain you are inflicting), and after.

You may go through a scene as a Dominant and get to the end and find that you want to take a nap.  The problem is the other individual(s) are probably coming up from subspace or a down from a euphoric high that you created.

Like we tell our kids, if you created it, you need to take care of it.  The Dominant is on the hook for making sure the submissive comes up/down smoothly.  Trying to avoid a crash that could leave a negative note on what was a positive experience.

Like everything, a little planning and preparation will help.  Bring a bottle of water to the play room, some chocolate (it sounds silly but chocolate can really improve a person’s mood), a glass of wine, a little’s stuffie, or whatever helps them to level out.

Most importantly, be there for them to cry on your shoulder or simply hold them.  BDSM is a major release of emotional energy that we play with, build up, and take our submissives through.

When done right, they might forget their names, be unable to speak for their own needs, and surrender everything.

They are trusting us to ensure they are safe, which includes returning them to a sensible level of functionality.

It is fun to fantasize about rape play where you find a girl, toss her in a van, do what you want, then dump her at the curb when you are done.

It may just not work out in your favor if you do that to your wife and she has to walk home while dealing with the emotions let out driving and after scene…

Curve magazine has an article here on aftercare that is worth a read.


I found this video on Tumblr and wanted to share it.  It is amazing work.  At four minutes long it contains many scenes, photos, gifs, and memes I have seen elsewhere.  

The closing credits provide all of the true credit worthy people and the excellent work they put in.


Amazingly Great?

You know what is amazing, fun, and let’s you be dirty and clean at the same time?

That’s right, paintball!  I mean shower sex!

Of course, for many of us, the reality is that the shower in our home was really built for one.  So it can be a little… tricky to make a go of it.

I found this “video” that perfectly sums up some of our attempts, and it had to be shared.

The Kidnapping

I had been watching you for a long time, you had a routine that made it easy to track.  

You are walking out of the supermarket now, dress flapping a bit in the wind.  Hair messed by that same breeze as you headed towards the family van.

The kids had been sent to school less than an hour ago, your husband had followed shortly after that.  Leaving you alone.

I let you reach the van and open the driver side door where you toss you bag into the passenger seat.

I had parked next to you, my truck blocking the view for most people, and I stepped out from behind, quickly grabbing and gagging you.

I press you against the side of my car and quickly bind your hands behind your back.  I drag you to the back door and push you inside.  Once on the back seat, I bind your feet.

Before leaving, I close the door to the van and pick up the keys and purse that you dropped.

I causually toss them into my truck and pull away from the spot.  I smile as I listen to you struggle.

It takes forty minutes to arrive at our destination, an abandoned barn at a unused farm.  

The doors are wide open, waiting for us, and I drive right into the barn.  Once inside, I shut down the truck, climb out and close the barn doors.

I open the back door to the truck and smile at you.  Fear and concern flash across your face as I grab and pull you out.

A flash of metal whips past your eyes and I cut the ropes around your feet and hands.  Then I show you the knife.

“You will do everything I tell you, or I will use this again.  Do you understand?”

You nod, tears in your eyes.  You stand there, the gag still in your mouth, trembling, and I reach out and rip your dress, exposing the lack of anything under it.  Your hands immediately try to cover yourself, and I laugh.

I walk to the small table in the middle of the barn and pick up a leather collar.  Turning back to you and say “Kneel”.

You fail to move, frozen in place. I stride across the barn, grab your hair and force you to the ground. 

You land on all fours and I put my knee on your back, wrapping the collar around your neck and securing it.  I reach out to the pillar next to you and grab the leash hanging there and clip it to the collar.

I wrap it around my hand twice to keep it tight and pull you up.  I look into your face and say “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have too.  Do as you are told and you might just enjoy this.”

The gag has fallen from your mouth and taking advantage of this, you spit in my face.  The rage boils inside me, but I keep control and pull you across the barn to a hook at the far end.  You are dragged part way before you are able to crawl and keep up.

The hook is hanging about three feet in the air, I push you over onto you stomach under it, and grab your right hand, wrapping a rope around it.  

You realize what is happening and swing at me with your left, hitting me in the thigh.  I press my knee down on you, grabbing your left, as you struggle and I bind it with the rope and hook the rope over the hook.

Then I grab another rope and pull the hook upwards.  You are forced to sit, then dragged upwards until you are hanging in the air.  Only your toes can touch the ground.

“Now princess.” I growl, “You are going to be my play toy.”

I strap a harness around your waist and slip a wand into the hoop in the harness.  Pressing it against your clit.  I plug the other end into a battery generator and turn it on.

You twist as it vibrates against you.  Struggling to resist the sensations.  To resist you desire.

You even succeed for a few minutes, but eventually your body betrays you and you cum.  It does not stop there though, I leave you hanging.

It seems like hours, you cum over and over, you start to have trouble seeing the room, remembering where you are.  All that you can think about is the vibrations against you clit.  The need and fear of coming again conflict with each other, but you know need will end up winning.

Enjoying the show, I watch as your eyes roll back into your head as you cum again.

I close the gap between us and shut off the wand, pulling it away from you as you moan and loosely hang there.  I release the hook and you crumble to the ground.

This time when I pull the leash, you follow, crawling beside me.  I lift you up onto the table and tie the rope to the far end.  Securing your feet to the legs of the table so your ass is up in the air and your legs spread wide.

Then I strike your bare ass, pause and strike again, and again.  My handprint standing out pink against your pale skin.

As I strike your ass the color gets darker, going from pink to red.  You struggle to get away from my hand, but I spank you again and again.

You whimper “pleaseeeee”.

I laugh, and lean in close, whispering “Now it is time for my pleasure.”

As I say the word pleasure, I push my cock deep inside you.

I pull back out and pound it back in, pushing hard enough to rock the table.

Over and over I ram into you, taking my pleasure.  You moan, beg, plead.  Still I fuck you.

Then, we cum together.  I fill you as you explode around my girth.  Your body collapses onto the table.

I release you from the ropes and wrap you in a blanket, holding you close.

As you lay in my arms, recovering you whisper “Thank you Daddy.”

Why We Hate

Psych2Go is a great site for some quick psychology stories and factoids.  This is a good one on five reasons we hate.

While the movie, “the Accountant”, is a poor example of what an individual with Autism would act like, it does have a good line in it:

Eventually different scares people.

The book that the movie “Passengers” is based on agrees, the root of all trouble is people that are different.

The article below agrees.  Hopefully others see the problem here we should work on.



A while back the rules page received this comment:

whoever made this bul—– is obviously a narcissistic male and has no f–king respect for women, this is completely sexist and wrong.

To which I responded and had a short discussion with the individual (you can see the discussion in the comments area of the rules page).

Recently, we received a comment from an individual responding to the above comment that I am not going to post but I will paraphrase here:

Just because you do not understand this lifestyle you should not apply your own opinion to those who do.  I worked long and hard to help my husband to dominate me.

I decided against posting this comment for a couple of reasons:

  1. The comment had already been addressed and the individual posting this response had not noticed.
  2. The comment had the word “you” spelled “u”.  Come on people, we can spell the word “you” out.  Spelling it with just the letter “u” makes us look uneducated and does not support your argument, it immediately invalidates it.
  3. It was not as polite as my quote above.

We, as a society, need to stop worrying about the opinions of others.  Stop worrying about if they are going to accept our personal life, and stop trying to push our lives on others expecting them to want to do the same things.

Even if I do not agree with the individual who called me a narcissist, I will be far more successful in a discussion with them if I seek to understand their stance instead of instantly responding negatively to them.

As a society, we have become very split by our opinions, and there are so few people that are willing to bridge that gap.

We have to be better.