Beauty ( and hope )

I am going to try to keep this one uncharacteristically short..  here goes..

I have a critical eye and I’m honest. If you really want to know if something makes you look fatter, or thinner or looks good, I’ll tell you honestly what I think.  Normally, I think I am fairly good as judging how a face or body stacks up against the general population.  And that goes for men and women.  Take the recently deceased George Michael.  If you asked me, I’d say he was hot in his day.  Same with Christie Brinkley.  These may not be your kind of beauty, but you can at least acknowledge I am in the ball park for generally hot people.

So when I look at my slave, do I see a drop dead gorgeous girl everyone wants?  No, I don’t.  But then to me, she is.  I have thought about this a great length.

On New Years Eve, as she sat beside me I turned and looked at her and so help me God she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.  Meanwhile, one part of me was staying objective.  One part of my mind was asking: Would anyone else agree?  So I looked objectively and I couldn’t find any reason another person wouldn’t agree. I can still see that moment in my minds eye.

It was the kitchen, she was sitting on my right as is her protocol.  On her right side, which was farthest from me, her hair hung down just past her eye and then over her breast in a photogenic kind of way.   On her left side, the side facing me, she had tucked her long hair behind her ear and the sparkle of a beautiful dangling earring shone in the light.  Her jaw line was well defined in the kitchen light.  Her lips were full, pouty, and her eyes were crowned by dark eyebrows that were not too heavy.  In short, her contrasts were striking.  She was breathtaking… and I told her so.. You just look so beautiful tonight.. I might have said.

Times when this happens, my heart tugs at me, full of love and appreciation for this property I own.  I know that others might not agree.  She’s isn’t firm like an 18 year old, or fat free, but I am simply struck at times with her beauty just the same. Many are the times I have simply been over-whelmed with feeling for her, and my critical eye is once again struck with her beauty.  But then other times not.  Is it simply what I am feeling that makes me see?

Its been said, love is blind.  Its been said that we see our lovers through rose colored glasses.  I get it.  At such times, I might be under an influence but if I am, it’s too deep for my objective side to untangle.  Maybe I am “Shallow Hal” under the influence.. I don’t care.  I like it. AND there is something to learn here.

If we can learn to love another person for who they are, to be attracted on all levels, to be infatuated for who they are, isn’t that a good thing?  Does it really matter what anyone else thinks?  There is hope for us all.  I am quite a bit older than Izrina, yet she loves me in return.  As a Master, I think I’m a catch, but not so much for my age.  BDSM seems to have more than its fair share of people who are attracted on a level that makes them seem an unlikely match. A word of cautions about “finding” that special someone, in the form of a quote:

Just remember that what you seek you will not find, but in the path of your happiness, when you are loving life the most, what you were seeking will find you. ~ X Quote

Let’s revisit the question: Would everyone else desire her as well?  If we are talking about TPE Masters, the answer is  “Hell yes!” A Master who has gotten past the stupid notion of collecting a stable of hot bodies, and is ready to get serious about finding the slave that will fit, THAT Master would simply love to own my property. She’s valuable property, and I know it.  It needs to be said, and I know it, that a huge part of my attraction is the slave that she is, the submission she gives with such grace.  It is her inner beauty that attracts me first. There are some outwardly beautiful women that are ugly and repulsive to me.  Beauty starts from the inside and flows from there.

All of this is  just one more reason why BDSM is the only way of life for me.  It is one more reason why I think we have answers for nillas if they could hear. Its why, if you haven’t found the one yet, there is still hope.  Attraction in BDSM runs much deeper, and when you connect on that level, any person can become more beautiful than you can imagine.  I know. I am speaking from experience here.  If loving you is wrong, I don’t want to be right, baby, yeah!

Failure!.. Thought this would be a few paragraphs.. Ha!  Never give a soapbox to a Dominant!  Carpe Diem, my friends.. Nameste.

Knives on New Years Eve

The room was dimly lit. The sound and heat of a crackling fire warmed her.  She could hear, but not see, blindfolded and chained to a Saint Andrews Cross as she was, in the center of the room.  The sound of him drawing his knife from its sheath reached her ears, and then came the touch.  Cold steel on bare flesh and she shuttered.  Fear, tempered by trust gripped her as he drew it to her throat.


For New Years Eve, we enjoyed the company of friends and fine food at a house party. Its a lovely way to bring in the New Year.  Surrounded by good people, your own kind, where people gather in the kitchen and the conversation can range over a broad spectrum of subjects.  This year we avoided politics.  Frequent jokes and laughter.  I am grinning now, at one point someone told a joke that took a bit too long to tell, and there was polite laughter.  Then in the silence that followed someone said: The juice wasn’t worth the squeeze.. a slave taking a sip at that moment gagged and spit her drink, then still coughing, excused herself.. We checked on her, concerned she could breath, chuckling but concerned.  Sometimes a thing is funny in the moment and later you can’t explain exactly why.  The juice wasn’t worth the squeeze.. I like that one.  It was a warm evening.

A few hours before midnight, the play started.  I had brought a dress shirt to cut off Izrina.  I had planned to also do impact and fire, but space was limited so we just did edge play.. or knife play.

Edge Play – When I have played with knives in the past, this was called edge play..playing with the sharp edges of knives.  Somewhere in recent history, edge play also began to be used to describe playing at the edge of a RACK ( Risk Aware Consensual Kink).. playing in a way that pushes consent and risk.  Knife play can do that..  but you have to know how people are using the term.. edge play.. are they using it to describe knife play.. of in the other way?

Izrina, when she goes into subspace, goes in hard.  I often joke that people will “poke her with a stick” to see if she is still alive.  I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to get her up for the champagne toast at midnight.  I could tell you in story form, all of the delicious things that I did to her, to drive her down so deep.  That would be quite titillating.. kind of like the way I started this blog.  Instead today I want to be more clinical.  I would like to share with you some techniques that you may want to borrow during your next play session.


Playing with knives is not for everyone because when you play with knives, you are playing with the critical foundation of all M/s relations – trust!   For it to be effective, there must be real fear.  A masochist knows you will hurt them, but you won’t harm them.  Therein lies the keys to playing the mind of your bottom with a knife.  The fear isn’t cutting into trust. In fact, playing with knives deepens your trust. No, the fear you instill is about how much pain will be created without harm.. and if a mistake will cause harm.  and if you the Master, can correctly judge pain thresholds.  So, how do we do this thing with knives?   First, let’s start with the knowledge necessary for playing with knives:

Two things that cut – Knives cut because of two things… speed and pressure.  Knives cut when you are moving the knife quickly or with pressure or both.  The sharper the knife, the less speed and pressure are required to cut.  When we know this, we are armed with the knowledge necessary to play with them.

Speed is easy to control.  The faster you move the knife the less predictable will be the effect of the blade.  Pressure can be controlled easily when a slave is horizontal on a table.  Less easily when they are upright on a cross.  This is because gravity is the easiest way to control knife pressure.  If you hold your knife at the balance point, no pressure is applied to the skin.  If you hold it just back of the balance point, the  weight tilts the knife down, creating pressure to cut.  If you allow the balance point and the weight of the knife to create the cutting pressure, you have a very fine level of control.  This works best when your subject is horizontal, like the blade.

Techniques for creating fear with knives – Fear is mostly about the unknown.  So a blindfold can be very helpful in creating fear of the unknown.  Blindfolds reduce the experience to sound and touch.  Use a sharpening stone with the blindfold so they can hear the steel dragged across stone.  The sick sound of steel scraping against stone is so much worse when its in preparation of a knife to be used on you.  For added fun, make them hold the stone blindfolded and play with the fingers that hold it, while you are sharpening.  Touch is next.  Knives in cold water or ice create almost painful sudden sensations.  If you have a violet wand with a body probe, the right setting of electrical stimulant added to a knife can make it feel like you are cutting, even when you actually are not. All people are different but certain parts of the body create greater fear than others.  Izrina is most sensitive to the blade on her breasts, throat, and wrists.  The tip of the blade creates gasps on nipples, palms, earlobes and finger tips.  You have to find those sweet spots, where either the blade or the tip create gasps.  Talking is a personal thing too.   Silence, punctured by a whisper, or low growl is going to be your personal well as what to say.  I personally like to say things like:  You are mine, this body is mine, I  will take my pleasures from it … with my knife tonight..


In porn when you see someone cutting clothing, they always cut holes for the nipples.. Bah!  amateurs!   Cutting clothing can be a fast thing, tearing to get at what is underneath, or it can be a slow thing that heightens the sense of helplessness combined with the delicious sensations of things against skin.

I wear dress shirts and eventually they get old.  When a shirt’s fabric begins to show it’s weave, or a hole appears, or a stain can’t be removed, its time to save it for an evening of pleasure.  If you are into this kind of thing, always keep an eye out for the next piece of clothing to be sacrificed in this way.

I love a girl in a dress shirt and little else.  There is something very sexy about how short it is, how the tail in the front and back just barely covers the naughty bits.  When I cut a shirt from Izrina, I like to use a gutting knife.   Its a nasty little bit of hardware, with finger holes like brass knuckles and a curved blade that is designed to dig into an animal and split it open for gutting.  A good tug on that curved blade shreds clothing into nice ragged strips. and that is exactly what I want.

The first two shreds I want to make are in the heavy fabric on either side of the buttons, if shredded from just below the breast, down to the bottom, it forms two strips that can be then later crossed under the breasts, and around to her back where they can be tied off.  Subsequent rips from the shoulders down, create more strips  that hang loosely over breasts. A lovely sight. These can be used then to create some stunning breast bondage.  Use your imagination.  A shirt or dress shredded just so, with forethought and planning, changes from tatters to a bondage garb.  Add some nipple clamps and the combination of fear, trust, touch, sound, pain, and pleasure are quite satisfying.


A wonderful start to a new year – The edge play, and her reactions, were a lovely end to the year.  She was still a bit groggy as we toasted in the new year in the company of good people.  It was a great start to the year to come.  I hope my primers give you some wicked ideas you want to try soon.  Carpe Diem my friends, go be someone’s great day!