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venerdì 29 novembre 2019

Love & Pain


C is for Caged - Part 1

Colby Carr woke up and was supremely uncomfortable. For a moment, he couldn’t remember why. As he opened his eyes and stretched, he remembered. Every morning, for as long as he could remember, he woke up with a raging hard-on. Unfortunately for him, his girlfriend had asked him to wear a cock cage. So this morning, he woke up with his raging hard-on pressed through the bars of the cage. He looked at it tentatively. The cage had bars that went around and two bars that went straight up the length of his shaft. When he was free, his cock hardened to seven inches, but in this contraption, he was restricted to about four inches.

Last night was the first time he had ever put it on. He had struggled to get the ring around his balls, and then the cage fitted to it and locked on, but he had managed. It had been after he had had sex with his girlfriend Corrine, so he had been nice and soft. He had reservations about wearing it overnight, but she had crooned at him that it turned her on and he went along with it. He usually did what she asked of him, even though they didn’t have a formal Dominant/submissive relationship.

Tentatively he touched the skin protruding from the bars. It felt as velvety as usual, and he groaned. The stimulation, even from himself, caused his cock to spasm against the metal. He rolled over to find Corrine but found that he was alone. “Fuck,” he whispered. He had been hoping that it would be enough for him to wear it overnight and she would take it off in the morning. But she hadn’t. And now he knew it would be too late.

Looking at the clock, he saw that it was nine. Corinne had to be at work by nine. He worked second shift, so he had nowhere to be, but since he went to work at two and she worked until five, he was afraid he was stuck in the cage for the whole day.

Picking up the phone, he dialed her mobile phone without thought. “Hello?” she said, after a few rings.

“Hey, Corrine,” Colby said.

“How are you?” The amusement in her voice was apparent.

“Hard.”

She giggled. “Perfect.”

“Not perfect. Where’s the key?”

“In my pocket.” His cock spasmed against his will. Why was it that knowing the only key to release him from hell was in his girlfriend’s pocket at work?

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said. Colby could tell from her tone that she was shrugging her shoulders on the other end of the connection.

“Fuck,” he murmured.

“Watch your language, love,” she purred.

“Please, Corrine? Can I meet you on your lunch break?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “Let me think about it.”

“Please, Corrine. I’m so hard. I can’t stand it.”

“You can take care of yourself,” she replied with a smile.

“How?”

“Be creative,” she admonished.

His mind was whirling. Could he get himself off with the cage enclosing his cock? Would it hurt too much? Would it be worth the relief though? Or, could he convince her to meet him on her lunch break? “Maybe,” he said, still thinking.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she said.

“I’m listening.”

“If you can get yourself off and send me picture proof, I’ll let you meet me for lunch, and maybe I’ll let you have the key.”

“And if not?”

“Then you’re stuck until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yep.”

“But what about after work?”

“Nope. If you can’t take care of yourself, you get another night in the cage. Deal?”

He paused. It was a gamble. He had no idea if he could be successful, but he was willing to give it a try. “Deal.”

lunedì 25 novembre 2019

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Chastity belt, ropes: do you want more?


Gli oscuri crimini del cinema sadomaso

Lo scorso weekend ho visto Dark crimes, un mediocre film poliziesco ispirato a una vera indagine di gran lunga più intrigante. La vicenda è ambientata in una tristissima Cracovia, dove un poliziotto altrettanto triste si convince di avere trovato il colpevole di un vecchio caso di omicidio e fa di tutto per indurlo a confessare. La parte interessante sta nel fatto che il criminale è losco, amorale, odiosissimo ma anche un brillante intellettuale – e ha descritto spavaldamente l’omicidio in un suo libro. E, come si intuisce dal trailer, c’è di mezzo un giro di sadomasochisti estremi.

DARK CRIMES | Trailer Italiano del drama thriller con Jim Carrey

L’elemento più avvincente della pellicola è Jim Carrey, che come tutti i comici è un eccezionale attore drammatico. Il resto è dimenticabile, a partire dalla sceneggiatura sconclusionata e dal tentativo di rendere a tutti i costi il film “intelligente”. Dialoghi e personaggi vorrebbero essere brechtiani ma risultano solo rigidi; gli spunti filosofici sembrano copiati dal diario di un darkettone quattordicenne; la regia è leeeeenta. E poi c’è la trasgressione, telefonata dalla presenza spesso nuda di Charlotte Gainsburg (figlia di Serge, noto erotomane con cui da ragazzina ha duettato in una canzoncina dai doppi sensi incestuosi) e dal suddetto club sadomaso. Di cui sarà il caso di parlare.

Il locale si intravede per pochi secondi. Si tratta di un decrepito edificio industriale nel quale l’accusato ci fa sapere che «uomini importanti stuprano e maltrattano prostitute drogate interessate solo ai soldi». Uno dei passatempi, si intuisce, è per esempio sparare col fucile a pallettoni mirando a pochi centimetri dalla testa di una ragazza bendata e tremante. Mah.
Quel che è certo è che il club rappresenta il lato più schifoso della razza umana: un metaforone da prima liceo, pericolosamente alla deriva verso i territori di A serbian film. Fortuna che, dopo avere svolto la sua funzione di urlare allo spettatore «hai visto come siamo crudi e perversi? Eh? Eh?» non lo si vede più.

Visto che il BDSM io però lo pratico davvero, questa storia dei depravati cattivi non riesco a mandarla giù tanto facilmente. Perché hai voglia a spiegare che le sessualità alternative non assomiglino affatto a quello squallore; hai voglia a fornire dati scientifici che dimostrano come l’eros estremo sia tutt’altro che dannoso; hai voglia a ripetere che la cultura kinky disinnesca le derive patologiche degli istinti di dominazione e sottomissione; hai voglia a organizzare party dove le buone maniere regnano sovrane. Alla fine l’equivoco rimane lo stesso: un po’ per ignoranza, un po’ per colpa di prodotti mediatici tagliati con l’accetta, troppe persone credono ancora che solo pazzi e delinquenti possano avere la passione per certi giochi (che non c’entrano niente con le fucilate e gli stupri, in caso servisse ripeterlo). E, lasciatemi dire, sentirsi equiparare ai criminali non fa piacere a nessuno.

Tale qui pro quo viene perpetrato senza ritegno in ogni formato. Dal giornalista pigro che confonde una violenza carnale con un gioco erotico al romanzo di successo in cui per fare BDSM devi per forza avere subito traumi infantili, questa visione confusionaria della sessualità ci circonda da ogni parte, alimentando le incomprensioni. Il cinema è sfortunatamente uno dei colpevoli più influenti.
Spesso non si tratta di malafede, ma di necessità stilistica. Il principio è lo stesso per cui un regista che debba tratteggiare in poche inquadrature un pericoloso fondamentalista religioso probabilmente metterà in scena un musulmano con la kefiah; se serve un hacker mostrerà un ciccione sfigatissimo; un maestro spirituale sarà facilmente un anziano orientale. Sono stereotipi, è vero, ma anche semplificazioni utili ai fini narrativi. È anche per questo che il cinema ha da sempre grossi problemi nel rappresentare le minoranze, al punto che gli sceneggiatori indicano certi personaggi con nomi standard: il Negro Magico, l’Elegante Mafioso Italiano, il Gay in Conflitto, la Gattara, il Genio Autistico e così via. Purtroppo liberarsene non è facile: per vedere blockbuster con donne che passino il test di Bechdel ci sono per esempio voluti 120 anni, e come reazione ancora oggi i film con protagoniste femminili realizzate vengono boicottati attivamente da parte del pubblico.

Tornando a noi, quando non viene usata come spunto comico (il celebre «famolo strano» di Carlo Verdone), la sessualità alternativa al cinema diventa per lo più metafora di conflitti interiori e fra i personaggi. In effetti, su grande schermo il BDSM non esiste proprio, e i giochi erotici di dominazione sono sempre rappresentati come sadomasochismo inteso in senso clinico. Per rendercene conto ho compilato un elenco abbastanza completo di film a tema, decisamente sconsigliati per avvicinarsi al vero eros estremo, ma interessanti per capire da dove siano nati alcuni preconcetti duri a morire. Altrimenti c’è sempre Internet, dove si possono trovare centinaia di video che mostrano ogni sorta di pratica, sia simulata che reale. Non è da escludere che alcuni possano essere ben realizzati, ma guardandoli è bene ricordare sempre che – proprio come con il sesso tradizionale – la realtà è spesso molto diversa da quel che si vede in un film porno.

Titolo
Anno
Regista
Trama
 
2001
Maria Martinelli
L’indagine sulla morte di un aspirante schiavo conduce alla scoperta del sottobosco del sesso estremo. Peccato che sia tutto privo di fondamento. Vincitore del premio di peggior film dell’anno 2001
1967
Luis Bunuel
Una moglie borghese e algida conduce una doppia vita come prostituta specializzata in perversioni per trovare il suo equilibrio. Un grande classico
1993
Jennifer Lynch
Per fare innamorare di sé la sua donna ideale, un chirurgo non trova di meglio che amputarle gli arti per renderla dipendente da lui. Un trip onirico sull’oggettificazione del partner
1972
Marco Ferreri
Lei trova un’isola con un uomo e un cane, che uccide per gelosia. Poi accetta con gioia di ridursi a cagna per lui. Il romanticismo dell’appartenenza assoluta
2015
Sam Taylor-Johnson
L’adattamento del romanzo proprio come il libro ha ben poco a che fare col BDSM ma ne ha influenzato la percezione fra il grande pubblico
1980
William Friedkin
Un poliziotto in borghese si infiltra negli ambienti BDSM gay di New York per stanare un serial killer, e scopre un mondo pericolosamente attraente
2014
Peter Strickland
Due donne si amano in un onirico villaggio di entomologhe sadomasochiste. Riflessione su chi detenga davvero il potere in un rapporto BDSM
1997
Yuan Zhang
Un brutale poliziotto arresta un gay sottomesso e scoppia una passione impossibile
1974
Masaru Konuma
Bella trasposizione cinematografica dell’equivalente giapponese di Histoire d’O, imperdibile per gli amanti dello shibari
Gradiva
2009
Alain Robbe-Grillet
Un intellettuale in visita in un Marocco onirico si perde in un delirio sadomasochista alla scoperta di istinti primordiali
2009
Barbara Bell & Anna Lorentzon
Illuminante documentario sul “dietro le quinte” del sito di BDSM estremo Insex
1984
Just Jaeckin
Una sorta di Indiana Jones in versione fetish, tratta dal celebre fumetto di John Willie. L’apoteosi del B-movie BDSM
1975
Just Jaeckin
La bella O si innamora del sadico e indecifrabile Stephen, che la conduce in un centro di addestramento per schiave. Uno dei primi film erotici di cassetta, tratto da un best seller e rigorosamente softcore
1976
Nagisa Oshima
La passione del Signore e della concubina precipita in un vortice di gelosia e possesso che fa perdere ogni limite alla loro relazione sadomasochista
1972
Rainer Werner Fassbinder
Petra domina senza pietà la cameriera e la sua amante, ma quando quest’ultima la lascia per un uomo basta un solo gesto gentile per farla abbandonare pure dalla serva
1977
Barbet Schroeder
Un ladro irrompe nello studio di una prodomme facendo sbocciare una strana storia d’amore. Commedia così così, ma la Padrona è quantomai realistica
1969
Pasquale Festa Campanile
Una giovane vedova scopre le perversioni del marito e decide di vivere ogni possibile esperienza erotica per vendicarsene. Oggi è un documento interessante su cosa fosse «scandaloso» all’epoca
1986
Adrian Lyne
Una storia di sesso fra newyorkesi si trasforma in un’educazione alla sensualità dal finale agrodolce
2001
Michael Haneke
Soffocata dalla madre, una pianista sfoga le sue frustrazioni in una spirale di depravazioni e masochismo da cui trae l’ispirazione artistica
1974
Liliana Cavani
Una reduce dal lager ritrova il suo crudele aguzzino e amante, ormai reintegrato nella società. La passione ritorna, i ruoli si invertono, e comincia una danza letale
1968
Henry-Georges Clouzot
Turbata dalla foto di una donna legata, la protagonista scopre il gusto sottile della sottomissione nel rapporto cerebrale con un maturo cultore dell’argomento
1999
Catherine Breillat
Una donna cerca di esplorare la propria sessualità e scopre la purezza nella degradazione. Intellettuale e femminile
1975
Pier Paolo Pasolini
La filosofia di de Sade ri-ambientata fra i nazifascisti. Realizzazione discutibile per un messaggio sempre attuale
2005
Mary Harron
Una biografia parziale ma abbastanza accurata della celebre pin-up fetish anni ’50
2002
Steven Shainberg
Il principale è un sadico, la segretaria una masochista. Accettare serenamente le proprie tendenze porterà entrambi a superare gravi problemi, fino a un insolito happy end
1963
Joseph Losey
Dominazione psicologica e degradazione diventano il meccanismo di una sottile vendetta nella lotta di classe fra ricco borghese e “umile” maggiordomo
1991
Ryu Murakami
Una solitaria ragazza sfrutta il suo masochismo come fonte di reddito in attesa dell’amore, scoprendo la degenerazione della civiltà giapponese
2013
Roman Polański
L’audizione per una piéce tratta da Masoch si tramuta in un sensuale processo al patriarcato giocato sulle dinamiche della dominazione
Writer of O
2004
Pola Rapaport
La verità nascosta per decenni sul best seller erotico Storia di O, raccontata dall’autrice ormai novantenne fra ricostruzioni della Francia anni ’50.

https://www.ayzad.com/it/notizie/cultura/gli-oscuri-crimini-del-cinema-sadomaso/

venerdì 22 novembre 2019

A beautiful toy


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Hotel [BDSM Erotic Fiction] - J R Vincente Erotica Writer

I took a deep breath. I was so nervous that I could swear the hotel clerk could hear my heart beating in my throat. But she was smiling at me as though nothing were odd about my request for a room with a king-sized bed. But from her perspective, there wasn’t anything odd about it. I was just a woman on my own who wanted a big bed. She asked how many keys, and I hesitated. I needed to say two keys. But would that be weird to be on my own asking for two keys? But before I could second guess myself further, she said, “I’ll give you two keys.” I nodded appreciatively and swallowed over the lump in my throat.

“There you go, Ms. Jersey,” she said. I wasn’t sure if she believed that it was my last name, but since I had paid in cash and given a $200 cash deposit to ensure I didn’t need a credit card, she didn’t question it.

It wasn’t my last name. My real last name was Sherman. And my first name was Carly. I had actually given her my real first name at least. I hoped that it would cut down on confusion by using my actual first name. But honestly, I hoped that the hotel clerk would be the only employee I would come in contact with during my brief stay.

I was doing something I had never done in my life. Something I had thought I would never do. Something that, if you had asked me five years ago if I would do it, I would have laughed in your face at the absurdity of it. Yet, here I was doing exactly that, and probably more.

The dating scene had changed a lot over the last five years. Meeting strangers from the internet was a big deal back then, but now it was commonplace. Apps like Tinder and OKCupid and countless others were bringing people together in ways that just didn’t exist then. And when people would meet on the forefathers of dating apps, they would do it in smart ways. They would bring a friend, meet at a crowded restaurant, or at least talk on the phone or on video to get to know the other person. But was I doing any of that? Of course not. I was doing something so dangerous, so risky, and so terribly out of character for me that I hardly believed I was standing in this upscale hotel, getting a room to share with a complete stranger.

I went to the hotel room first, bringing my small suitcase with me. I didn’t have a lot in it, but there were a few things I knew I would need. I had lingerie and the toys my stranger had requested. I couldn’t even think about those things right now.

When I got into the room, I looked around. It was a normal room. A king-sized bed, a big chair, a desk with a chair, and a couple of side tables. There were windows that went almost floor to ceiling. I looked and found that I could see right into the windows of the next tower. The sun was just setting, and I could see right into the rooms of people who had their shades open and their lights on. I knew that meant they could see me, too, but I knew that my stranger would want the shades open. I did dim the lights as much as I thought I should. I looked at the clock, and I knew I had just under an hour to be ready. I went into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror for a full minute. Could I really do this? Could I really go through with it? I took a deep breath and made up my mind. I had come this far, and I wasn’t backing down now.

I took the soaps and shampoos and opened them, discarding the seals. I made sure two towels were within reach of the shower. They were details that seemed minor, but I wanted to be able to hop in the shower later and not be fumbling with opening soap. I knew I was wasting too much time in the bathroom and left to go on with my other tasks.

Out in the main room, I pulled out the two keys to the room and double checked to make sure both worked. They did. I left the floor, going down through the lobby, and out to the street. I looked both ways and didn’t see anyone I knew, and felt relief. I found the spot I had been instructed to leave the extra key, and I tucked it away there. I snapped a picture of it and sent it off to the stranger I had been texting with, along with the room number. I took a deep, shuddering breath as I hit send, but knew there was definitely no turning back now.

I hurried back to my room and shut the door. I had to resist my natural urge to deadbolt the door. That would defeat the whole purpose. I quickly took off all my clothes, folding them neatly and putting them into my suitcase. From the suitcase, I pulled out the lingerie. The panties were g-string and so thin that one good tug would pull the fabric apart. The top covered my breasts with light cloth, but my nipples were visible right through it. It had thin straps that would hold it up, and it fell just to my hips. All the fabric was light blue to match my eyes.

I pulled the blankets off the bed so that just the sheet was there. I left the pillows at the top of the bed. I folded the large blankets as neatly as I could and left them in the closet. With the lights dimmed, it seemed as though the room was candlelit. I laid the other items he had requested on the bedside table and then lay down on the bed and closed my eyes. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, but I tried to focus on what I had been tasked with. Had I done everything he told me to do? I replayed the last hour over in my mind, and I couldn’t think of anything I had forgotten. I rolled toward the nightstand and picked up the items I had placed there earlier.

I slid the remote controlled vibrator into my pussy and pulled the blindfold on so that it was resting on my forehead. I needed my eyes for one last thing before I would pull it down. I picked up the cuffs that I would use to keep my hands bound. They were cuffs that I could slip my hands into and out of, so they weren’t super secure, but they got the point across. I looked above my head and saw that the headboard was solid. No chance to strap them there. My instructions were clear: If I couldn’t strap them to the headboard, I was to bind them behind my back. I slipped my right hand into the cuff and pulled the blindfold down with my left hand. I turned my head all different directions to see if I could peek out. I couldn’t. I put my left hand behind my back and slid it into the cuff. I was all set.

If I could have, I would have physically kicked myself for not looking at the time before I blindfolded myself. But the reality was that I had no sense of time anyway so it wouldn’t have mattered. I found that my heart was still pounding hard in my ears, but I was hardly breathing I was so anxious to hear any little sound. I couldn’t stop my brain from coming up with what-if scenarios. What if the cleaning crew came in? What if I had forgotten to put my phone on silent? What if I got an emergency phone call? What if this was all a big mistake?

But I knew that it wasn’t. I knew deep down in my core that this was what I had been craving. I wanted this complete stranger to lick me, suck me, fuck me. I wanted him to use me, to take advantage of me, and then to leave me. I was ashamed of the desire, but it was there nonetheless.

I waited and waited, and then I heard it, the click of the lock, the turn of the handle, and the footsteps into the room. I hadn’t thought it was possible for my heart to pound harder, but it did. I felt my pussy clench with desire and my own wetness increase tenfold. My legs were spread as I had been instructed and nothing was going to stop me from making a mess on the bed.

He didn’t say a word as he entered and approached me. The first physical indication I had that he was there was when his fingers touched the bottom of my foot. I flinched against my will, but I was so ticklish, I couldn’t help it. He trailed his fingers up the inside of my calf and then my thigh. My clit ached for him to touch it, but he didn’t. Before he reached my slick slit, he trailed his fingers over my hip and up my side. Again I shuddered but tried hard not to move. He moved across my breasts, tweaking my nipples through the fabric as he did. My pussy clenched again, and I arched my back in desire.

His fingers moved up from my breasts then and one hand wrapped around my throat. This was it. If I hadn’t placed my blind trust in a good man, I was in trouble. But he hooked his fingers behind my jawbone like I knew was safe and squeezed gently. I was able to breathe, though my breath came in rasps as he pressed lightly against my throat. “Who do you belong to?” he whispered.

“You,” I whispered back.

He let my neck go and slapped my breasts hard, first my right, then my left. It stung pleasurably. Then he moved away from me. I strained to hear anything, but couldn’t make out the sounds he was making. The vibrator turned on suddenly, and I couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped my throat.

My hips were gyrating as the small vibrator buzzed inside me. I wanted to cum so badly, but I knew I wasn’t allowed to. He had made that clear ahead of time. I didn’t get to cum until his tongue touched my clit.

He slid a finger along my soaking slit, and I could hear him chuckle. He ran his fingers down toward my ass, making sure my asshole was as slick as my pussy. His hands gripped my hips then, and I knew he was urging me to turn over. I struggled to do it with my hands restrained behind my back, but I managed. I felt the rip as he pulled the panties off my body. I had been mentally prepared for it, but the sound of the tearing fabric turned me on more than I expected.

I felt his cock slide along my slit, but not enter me. He slid along it again and again until his cock was soaked with my juices. He was thick, so thick. I didn’t think he was that long, but his thickness would more than make up for it. I felt the vibrator kick up a notch just as he pressed his cock against my puckered hole. He pressed forward, and I opened up to him. His cock slid inside me, and I moaned into the pillow. I couldn’t brace myself with my arms behind my back, but I didn’t care. It felt so good to have him pressing into my ass.

When his cock was fully pressed inside me, he gave me a moment to adjust and then he started to fuck me, fast and hard. I moaned as he fucked me, my moans reaching a fevered pitch as he turned the vibrator up again and began to spank my ass.

“Oh, god,” I moaned, “You feel so amazing filling my ass,” I screamed. My words seemed to spur him on. Without warning, he pulled all the way out of me and used his hands on my hips to urge me to flip over. When I was on my back with my legs on either side of him, he pulled me up by the light cloth I was wearing and then gripped me by the shoulder just before the slight straps ripped. He tossed the fabric aside and pulled me into a sitting position. I knew what he was after and I opened my mouth eagerly as he pressed his cock forward against my lips. I could taste myself on him, but I knew he wanted this, so I had made sure I was clean. When he was licked clean, I continued to suck his cock until he pulled it from my mouth.

The vibrations rocking my core stopped suddenly, and he pulled the vibrator out of me. I heard a thud as it hit the floor next to the bed. At the same time, he pulled the cuffs off my wrists. I stretched my arms out and wrapped them around his neck as he pinned me to the bed with his body, his cock sliding along my slit again. But this time, I knew that he was after more than just collecting some of my wetness. This time he wanted to fuck me. His cock slid home, and I moaned loudly. I felt totally full with him inside me, and I was clinging to him with both my arms and my legs. I could feel his hard, muscular body over me, but I still couldn’t see him.

“Cum for me,” I groaned, “Fill me with your cum, please!” I wanted it more than anything. I could feel him getting close; I could hear him panting. I wanted it more than I had wanted anything in my life. “Please, please, fill me with your cum,” I begged.

And he did. I could feel him spasm inside me and then the warmth of his seed as he filled me.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I panted, even though I had yet to have an orgasm. His cock slid out of me, and I felt him slowly work his way down my body, first biting each of my nipples, eliciting a gasp from me. Then, swirling his tongue down between my breasts to my belly button and dipping inside. It was oddly sensual. And then finally his tongue reached my clit, and I almost orgasmed instantly. My pussy clenched and spasmed and my toes curled. I felt all the cum that he had spent inside me start to drip out, but then he was lapping at it, licking it up noisily. I wanted to take the blindfold off and watch him, but I had promised him I wouldn’t. I had promised I wouldn’t take it off at all, and I wanted to honor that promise.

When I had stopped shuddering and felt that there was no more cum inside me, he moved away from the bed, and I listened as he moved around the room. I was weak, and I wasn’t sure if I could actually get up if I had wanted to. But I waited. I heard water running, and then turning off. I heard him bumping around the main room. And then I could feel him standing over me. I didn’t know what part of me had sensed him. I didn’t hear him or see him or smell him, but I knew he was there. He leaned over and bit my nipple, and I hissed in response. He bit the other one, and I moaned, arching my back.

Then his mouth was right next to my ear, and he nipped at my earlobe. “I’ll see you next week,” he whispered and then he was gone.

When I heard the door close behind him, I took the blindfold off. I resisted the urge to go to the door and watch him walk down the hall. Then I got up and showered and dressed. I sat in the desk chair for a while, thinking about the night and how wonderful it had been. When my phone beeped, I looked at it and saw that he had sent me the money for the hotel room, just as he had promised. I set my key on top of the one he had left on the desk, and I went home.



https://jrvincente.wordpress.com/2017/12/30/hotel-bdsm-erotic-fiction/

Le emozioni di una Domina

La lingua scivola tra le dita dei miei piedi
Li adori
Li lecchi
Li assaggi
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Miss Sabrina


mercoledì 20 novembre 2019

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lunedì 18 novembre 2019

You are only my toy, nothing else



Semiotica del BDSM: il collare

Come in altri ambiti, nel BDSM gli oggetti, gli accessori e i giochi si caricano di una valenza simbolica precisa e forte. Ecco che allora, la comunicazione fa uso di codici e di segni che rimandano a qualcos'altro, si può infatti parlare di una semiotica del BDSM. L’oggetto, il segno che più di tutti, ha rimandi chiari e valori simbolici esatti e ricchi di significati è il collare. Chi non conosce le dinamiche e le regole che dominano i gioco BDSM, ignora probabilmente anche quali valenze e significati, si nascondono dietro questo oggetto. Prima di spiegare il valore simbolico del collare nella dicotomia Dominante / sottomesso, analizziamone il significato assoluto nel gioco.


Il collare è il segno che permette universalmente di identificare, nel mondo del BDSM, il ruolo e l’appartenenza di chi lo indossa. Semplificando, indossare un collare, significa dichiarare la propria sottomissione, l’appartenenza ad un Dominatore e più generalmente al mondo del BDSM.

Il collare si riceve in dono, impossibile che il sottomesso lo indossi di sua iniziativa e simboleggia un impegno che viene paragonato a quello delle fedi di nozze. L’atto con cui il/la Dom offre il collare e il sub lo accetta è detto collarizzazione e in genere, ha per i protagonisti, l’importanza di una vera e propria cerimonia. Il collare ha anche la funzione esteriore di dichiarare, fuori dall'intimità, l’appartenenza.

Il collare è simbolo della potenza e del totale controllo che il dominatore ha ed esercita su chi incarna il ruolo di sottomesso. Anche se, non deve mai stringere la gola e non deve bloccare il respiro, il fatto che si indossi al collo, rappresenta potenzialmente il potere, appunto, del Dominare di disporre della vita o della morte del sottomesso.


Vediamo ora i significati simbolici nel BDSM, che il collare rivela in chi esercita il ruolo dominante. Per il Dom, donare il collare significa scegliere e riconoscere al sottomesso il proprio ruolo. Vuol dire dichiarare la proprietà su quella persona, denotare chiaramente che il sub appartiene a lui. Il collare è un dono che può assumere anche una valenza paragonabile ad una dichiarazione di amore, è un segno per affermare una scelta, confermare il desiderio di possedere totalmente il sub. Può essere donato in premio dopo un percorso di iniziazione o offerto come una grandiosa ricompensa.

Ricevere il collare, invece, è l’evento a cui ogni sub aspira. Indossare un collare, per un sottomesso, ha un valore forte sia sul senso di appartenenza che si prova immediatamente, quando questo cinge la gola, che a livello di sensazioni. 
Il collare implica legame, ubbidienza, dedizione totale, è un oggetto che ha il potere di completare quasi fisicamente il sub. E’ un accessorio che entra a far parte della sua carne, che veste e compie la sua sottomissione. 
Il collare ha anche una duplice valenza. 
Se infatti da una parte, indossare un collare, è quanto di più umiliante si possa immaginare, dall’altra in ambiti BDSM, è un simbolo che si ostenta con fierezza. Mortificante psicologicamente, per i rimandi al mondo animale, perché da sempre simbolo di schiavitù, di crudele sottomissione e di inferiorità, il collare, trae proprio da questa forte simbologia, la sua essenza e il suo significato. Nonostante il sub che lo indossa sia equiparato, per esempio, ad un cane, invece di venirne umiliato, egli, lo ostenta, seppur a testa bassa, con fierezza, perché rappresenta il segno più tangibile della realizzazione del suo desiderio di appartenere.

L’uso del collare nel BDSM può essere vario. C’è chi lo indossa o lo fa indossare solo nella sessione di gioco BDSM, altri chiedono e desiderano di indossarlo sempre. Esistono molti tipi di collari, ognuno scelto a seconda dei gusti e delle preferenze. E’ in uso anche un modello, detto collare gioiello, che appunto, come suggerisce il nome, del collare ha solo la simbologia. L’aspetto infatti, è quello di una collana o di una normale catenina. Il collare gioiello è la più sottile forma di comunicazione in codice tra Dom e sub, i riferimenti al valore simbolico infatti, sono compresi solo tra chi è ammesso a conoscere le regole, i valori e i rimandi del gioco, rappresentando quindi un meraviglioso ed intimo linguaggio segreto proprio del BDSM.

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