BDSM

Converting a Vanilla

Like many kinky people, I was trapped in a vanilla marriage for a very long time. Unlike many kinky people, I actually did manage to “convert” my (now ex-) husband after more than a decade of attempts. I don’t recommend taking that path. It was a lot of work, and it caused a lot of pain for me along the way.

So how did I do it? How do you convert a vanilla? My experience is that it is an arduous process. Think about a snail running a marathon or even a 100m race for that matter. There’s no way to make it faster. The conversion just took time and persistence. That’s not to say that I was bugging my ex every single day for kinky sex. Sometimes we would go years before I would bring kink up again because he had shot me down so thoroughly the last time I tried.

However, my general approach was to figure out which kink he was most likely to be attracted to. My primary kink is usually spanking (except with this hormonal crap of late…). However, spanking was a total turn off for him. He had no interest. He didn’t want to hurt me. He didn’t see the appeal. He wasn’t going to do something that “weird.”

On the other hand, this same guy loved tying knots. He had learned from his dad when sailing, so any time he got his hand on a piece of twine or rope, he’d fiddle with it, tying knots. To me, it didn’t seem like a huge jump from tying knots in rope for fun to tying up a woman using rope and knots. However, his brain couldn’t make that connection. So slowly I worked him up to it. I bought the rope and showed it to him, but it stayed in the closet because he didn’t want to use it. When I was under the influence of various legal substances and more relaxed than usual, I would get brave enough talk to him about my fantasies involving rope in bed. Then, one day, suddenly it clicked. He figured out that he liked tying knots in rope, and bondage was just tying knots in rope with a naked woman involved. I brought out the rope, and finally, after so many years of prepping, he was ready to begin exploring this kink with me on rare occasions.

Honestly, it took a sex therapist getting involved before I could get him to do anything else kinky with me. He was resistant to so many sexual acts outside of missionary position penis-in-vagina sex. Our therapist began putting pressure on him to actually try some kink as a way of improving our relationship—such a radical concept which I had been trying to get through to him for years! However, my ex was able to hear it from the male sex therapist in a way that he couldn’t hear me. I think having another man telling him that it was ok to do these things gave him psychological permission to try things he felt were taboo. In the last year of our marriage, the sex became the best it had ever been for me because there was finally kink involved. It wasn’t enough to salvage the very damaged relationship, but it was enough to make my life a little happier.

As we were divorcing, we had a few brutal final fights. One of my ex’s parting comments to me was that it was all my fault that he wasn’t going to be able to just date “normal” women now. He wasn’t going to be happy unless he was in a kinky relationship because he had learned to love bondage that much by the end. Of course, I had absolutely no sympathy for his “problem” of needing to find bondage bunnies in the future. I didn’t actually convert him. All I really did was help him become aware of what was already inside of him. What I did was help break down the barriers he had put up to kinky sex, and now he was being forced to deal with his own true sexual desires.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

The Nooner

(At long last! A M/F spanking and sex story that has taken me months to complete. Based on true events though no names are used to protect the very obviously guilty.)

My new boyfriend had a great deal of flexibility in his schedule since he worked from home as a computer programmer. He took advantage of that freedom to shift his work schedule to his natural bio-rhythms, sleeping in until 11 a.m. or noon every day but working until late in the night. He had also just moved into a new apartment, one that he hadn’t had the opportunity to christen yet with a sexual partner.

I kept a more traditional 9-5 work schedule because of my career; I traveled between locations locally meeting with clients while doing my job. One particular Monday, I had several last-minute cancellations for the next day on my schedule that left me with a big block of open time in the middle of the day. My last appointment before the free time was not far from my boyfriend’s apartment. I looked at that opening and thought to myself that it had a great deal of potential for some mid-day fun, so I sent a text to my boyfriend asking him, “Any interest in a nooner to christen your place tomorrow?”

The reply quickly came back: “Um, yes? Is there any other answer to that question?”

I was already fairly certain that his response would be an affirmative, but I laughed at his incredible willingness. We sent a series of texts working out the details. I would show up on his doorstep at 11 the next day, ready and willing for whatever fun might arise.  Part of me was a bit nervous about this plan for one reason: since I had learned how to have incredibly pleasurable but also incredibly loud orgasms, I hadn’t had sex with a man who lived in multi-family housing. Thus, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to restrain my screams for the sake of the neighbors. Still, I wasn’t about to turn down this opportunity based on that fear.

The next day I found myself at his front door with a cloth grocery bag of sex toys. The crop wouldn’t quite fit in, but no one was really around outside so I wasn’t too worried about what the neighbors were seeing. As I knocked on the door, my boyfriend opened it to greet me with a kiss. He was as happy to see me as I was to see him. However, he was also in morning mode, and he was in need of his coffee. I kicked off my shoes and made myself at home on the family room couch while he went in pursuit of his heavenly nectar. He had just gotten out of the shower and was still waking up.

We chatted while he loaded the coffee pot, but we quickly began kissing again on his couch while his coffee brewed. I was quite happy to see him, and he seemed equally excited (ahem) by the prospect of what was happening between us. When the coffee finished, he stopped kissing me to go grab his cup and fill it. While I knew how much the coffee meant to him, I wasn’t really in the mood for him to take time to drink it. I wanted to have sex. Desperately.

When he returned to couch to drink his coffee, I pounced on him as soon as he set the mug safely on the side table. The few seconds he had been gone had been too long. My tongue was rapidly inside his coffee-flavored mouth, and his hands quickly moved to my hips as I slid my body onto his lap. He pulled me close and returned my kisses with his, letting his left hand wander up to my breasts amidst the passion.  After a few minutes of this intense interaction, my boyfriend pushed me away to give himself a bit of space to grab his mug and take a long drink. Then he turned back to me.

“I have morning wood we need to take care of. You seem like you’re ready to help me what that issue.” A big smile crossed my face. I was definitely ready to help relieve his erection. My boyfriend took one more gulp of his coffee and then lifted me up off the couch and led me toward his bedroom. As we got into the bedroom, he pulled me close again and put his hands on my cheeks. A gentle kiss was followed by more sex talk.

“I want to make you cum,” he said emphatically, “but until we deal with this morning wood, I can’t think about anything else. You’re going to have to help me before I can help you.” With many men, I would think this was a line to get his and then leave me hanging. However, I knew my boyfriend was good to his word. He loved making me cum. He truly needed release, and I was more than ok with that. I put my arms around his shoulders, kissed him again, and then nodded my consent.

With that, my boyfriend couldn’t wait any longer. He began taking off his clothing while I removed mine in a rapid fashion. This wasn’t a sensuous undressing. It was desperation and desire. The goal was to be naked with our bodies pressed together as soon as possible. It only took a few seconds before we had achieved that goal, our lips and tongues again touching while my hands stroked his now naked cock that was definitely as hard as he had promised it would be.

Meanwhile, my boyfriend fumbled around on the nightstand, trying to find the condom and lube while still kissing me. He finally gave up at multitasking, pushing me onto the bed and onto my back. He opened the condom and slipped it on skillfully, squirting some lube onto it and then ordering me to spread my legs so he could put some lube on my pussy as well. I happily complied. Now prepared for what he truly wanted to do, my boyfriend slipped his sheathed cock inside my pussy, and I wrapped my legs around his legs. Missionary is one of the worst positions for me in terms of cumming, but I still love it for the intimacy it provides while watching my lover reach his climax. My partner knew that, and he was happy to put on a show for me as he worked through the motions of reaching orgasm, thrusting and pounding inside me, moaning louder and louder as he finally released his load. When he collapsed on top of me in exhaustion and relief, I ran my hands through his long hair and held him close, listening to his breathing and feeling his sweat on his body. I loved the feeling of my man lying on my body post-orgasm.

Eventually, he regained his wits, and my boyfriend scooted off of me onto the bed with a smile. He removed the condom and put it on a tissue on the nightstand, and then moved back to me to kiss me and pull me close, both of us laying on our sides and facing each other. Now that the animalistic fucking was out of the way, the sex could finally begin between us.

Among the toys that my boyfriend was anxious to use that day was an underbed bondage set. He had bought it since his headboard wasn’t bondage friendly but he very much wanted to include bondage in his bedroom. He had already installed the straps under the mattress and had the cuffs waiting for my wrists and ankles. He gave my bottom a smack and ordered me, “Roll over on your stomach in the center of the bed so that I can tie you up and give you the spanking you deserve for being such a naughty girl and having sex with your boyfriend in the middle of a work day.”

Eager to comply, I placed a pillow on the center of the bed, and then I moved onto my stomach over the pillow while he stood next to the bed. He started with my right wrist, securing the hand in the restraint. He progressed down to the right ankle, binding it tightly as well. Next, my boyfriend scooted around the king-sized bed, cinching up my left ankle and finally immobilizing me completely by putting my leftt wrist into the restraint. I tried to wiggle, but he had me very tightly bound which is exactly what he wanted. He then pulled on my ponytail, forcing my eyes to look into his.

“You’re now totally under my command. You have no choice but to submit to what I’m going to do to you.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I replied. He was right. At this point, I was his willing prisoner, anxious to see what he had in mind for our kinky fuckery that day.

He didn’t keep me waiting long as he released my hair and then grabbed a blindfold from his nightstand which he slipped over my eyes. Now I couldn’t move and I couldn’t see. The kinky suspense was building, and I was loving every minute of it. He traced his hands down my back and onto my bottom where he gently caressed my naked globes, his fingers meandering closer and closer to my asshole. He had a fondness for sticking his fingers in my ass without warning, an action I loved but that was not to be this time. Instead, he slapped my bottom briskly and then moved off the bed.

I could hear him rustling around in the shopping bag I had brought. What was he looking for? He’d given me a very specific list of things to bring that included his favorite toys of mine including that damn riding crop which I hated but he loved. Still, I was his submissive, and I was going to do what he asked of me, so I brought the crop. The noises from the bag stopped, and then I heard the lid pop open on the lube that was already on his nightstand. Since he had thoroughly lubed up my pussy earlier before he fucked it, I knew that could mean only one thing: he was about to insert the large butt plug I had brought along.

Sure enough, I felt the cold lube dripping down my crack as my boyfriend whispered in my ear, “Are you ready to take the butt plug like a good girl, Little One?”

“Yes, sir. Please put the butt plug in my naughty ass,” was my desperate reply. I loved having the butt plug inserted, and he knew it. It was a power trip for him to use my ass however he wanted, but he also got off on knowing that I wanted him to use me anally. Slowly I felt the very cold glass pressing into my ass, slipping gently in until it hit the point of resistance. Then, suddenly, there was the painful pop that always made me moan from a combination of pain and pleasure as the plug moved past my sphincter and all the way into my bottom. I tried to wiggle a bit as my boyfriend adjusted the plug to his liking, but there was no hope. He had me cinched tightly, so the wiggling of my bottom was all I could accomplish. My boyfriend took that as a sign that he needed to start spanking me.

“Hold still!” Daddy commanded as he smacked each side of my butt with his bare hand.

“Ow!” I responded to his sharp and unexpected spanks.

“Well,” he said, “If you’re not a cooperative little girl, then Daddy is going to spank you for not behaving. You should know this by now.”

I sighed. “Yes, Daddy,” and with that verbal acceptance, my boyfriend continued the spanking he had started. He was peppering my bottom thoroughly with spanks from his strong hand, occasionally letting the spanks fall onto my upper thighs which he knew was a turn on for me. As he spanked, I tried to hold still, but I was wiggling a bit. A girl can’t help it when her Daddy is reddening her bottom!

“Ok, Little One, I think you’ve had enough of a warm up. It’s time to punish you for having mid-day sex with your boyfriend like a naughty little slut,” he informed me.

“You do realize the irony of you spanking me for that…” I pointed out. He responded with a smack from an implement which elicited a yelp from me in return.

“Yes, but I’m not worried about logic at this point,” he said. “I’m more concerned with punishing your naughty bottom. Now tell me what it is I’m using on your bottom right now,” he commanded as he gave me several more swats.

“That’s the wooden hairbrush,” I replied.

“Correct!” He rewarded my answer with several more smacks of the hairbrush scattered around my bottom and thighs which more than got my attention.

“Daddy, I’ll be good,” I began promising.

“I very much doubt that!” he stated as he continued spanking. “This was your idea to come over here like a naughty girl and have sex with me in the middle of the day. That’s not the sign of a girl who plans to behave!”

“Ok, true,” I agreed with a laugh. “But I promise I’ll only misbehave with you, Daddy!”

“I’m ok with that,” he chuckled, “But I’m still going to keep spanking you.” And true to his word, I got several more swats with the hairbrush before I heard its wood clank against the nightstand when he set it down. However, I was certain that I wasn’t free from being spanked. Sure enough, another implement soon hit my tender bottom.

“Ouch!” I cried out. I heard my boyfriend chuckling with sadistic pleasure. He enjoyed spanking me every bit as much as I like having him spank me.

“So what am I using on your ass now, Little Girl?” he asked.

“The small leather paddle,” I replied.

“Correct!” he responded, and he rewarded my correct answer with a series of swats moving up one side and down the other of my bottom and legs.

“Daddy,” I began begging again, “I don’t think you need to spank me anymore.”

Suddenly the spanking stopped and I felt him jerk my head upward using my ponytail as a handle. He began talking directly into my ear.

“Who gets to decide when your spanking is finished?” he asked.

“You do, Daddy,” I replied with a semi-defiant sigh which was rewarded by a crack of the paddle on my ass while his other hand continued pulling my head back by its ponytail.

“That’s right, young lady,” he said, “And I am definitely not done spanking you yet. I am also not done fucking you either.”

With that, he released my head. I heard him putting down the paddle and picking up his next choice for torturing me. He began running it up and down my spine, moving past the butt plug and onto my pussy.

“That’s the damn crop!” I said even before he asked me.

“Correct again!” he replied, rewarding my unrequested answer with a sharp crack of the crop on my sit spot.

“OUCH!” I hollered out, and he laughed at my pain.

“It’s always so much fun to crop you,” he added. “So little work on my part and so much screaming on yours.”

I continued yelping and he continued randomly striking my bottom and thighs with the crop. Because he had my legs tightly stretched and bound, that meant the sensitive insides of my thighs were easily accessible with the crop, a situation he was happy to take advantage of. After quite a few targeted slaps to this most sensitive zone, I finally heard the crop set down on the nightstand.

“I’m ready to fuck you again,” he stated factually. “I’m going to loosen your legs so that you can get up on your knees with your butt in the air. I’m going fuck you from behind while your face is in the bed and your pussy is spread and open just for me.”

With that, he did as he had promised, loosening up the leg restraints just enough for me to get on my knees but not to move an inch more. I wasn’t going to be going anywhere he didn’t want me. I still had the blindfold on, a butt plug up my ass, a red bottom, and a very wet pussy. After getting me in the position he wanted me in, I heard him opening another condom from off of the nightstand, and then I assumed he was slipping it on his cock which was likely rock hard again after all of the kinky foreplay.

I felt the bed shift as he climbed back onto it. The next thing I knew, he was pulling the butt plug out of my ass. From previous sessions, he knew it was too uncomfortable for me when he vaginally fucked me in this position while the glass butt plug was still in, and pain was not the goal at this point. Instead, my boyfriend now wanted me to experience pure pleasure.

It didn’t take long for him to accomplish his goal. He plunged his cock deep into my wet pussy which caused me to call out loudly, “Oh, Daddy!” He laughed at my response, and he took it as a sign that I wanted more of the same. He continued thrusting his cock in and out of me, quickly causing my moans to get very loud. He already had me so aroused that it wasn’t going to take long before I burst into orgasm. With a few more powerful thrusts, I reached that point, screaming out, “Daddy! Oh, Daddy!” as I came. I tried to let my knees drop after the orgasm, but he stopped me with a sharp smack from his hand on my already reddened bottom.

“Did I tell you that you could change position?” he demanded.

“No, Daddy,” I truthfully responded.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to punish you for that, too,” he retorted, as if that wasn’t already part of his evil plan. I felt his still hard cock slipping out of my pussy, the arousal fluid and remaining lube dripping down my legs. My boyfriend stepped off the bed again, this time moving up to my right hand. He loosened the restraints on my wrist just enough for me to prop myself up; he repeated the same action on my left hand, too. I was now on my hands and knees with my red butt in the air and my blindfolded eyes facing the headboard. The only question was what he had planned next.

I soon found out as the mini-floggers came down on my bottom. I had one and he had one, so he liked putting one mini-flogger in each hand and thrashing my bottom with both, using one after the other in a rhythmic beating. He always started slowly, building up the pain and pleasure from the floggers’ bites. He was very good at using those floggers on me, better than anyone else who had ever tried. I was soon moaning both from pleasure and stinging pain as he repeatedly struck my sore ass, turning me on even more than I already was.

Suddenly, the flogging on my bottom stopped. Out of nowhere, he began flogging my shoulders. This was new and completely unexpected. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Did I like it? Did I not? Once the shock of the novelty wore off, I decided that I preferred him flogging my ass, but the flogging of my shoulders made an interesting alternative. I requested, “Daddy, please flog my ass more,” and he happily complied, striking my bottom in rhythm with the music he had playing in the background.

When he could tell I was getting close to my breaking point, my boyfriend stopped the flogging. He dropped the implements on the bed, and then his hands began caressing my ass, a feeling I truly loved. His strong hands on my stinging ass were truly a treat. But he still wasn’t done with me. I felt him moving behind me once again, and then his cock suddenly plunged in my ass which was already lubed and waiting because of the butt plug I had been wearing earlier.

After all of the intense spanking foreplay, the anal sex was powerful in a way I had never experienced. I quickly began screaming with pleasure, “Oh God, Oh God, OH GOD!” as his cock pounded in and out of my ass, his abdomen slamming against my tender cheeks. I could tell my screams were only turning him on more, as he began pounding even harder and faster, bringing me to the brink of orgasm and then finally pushing me over in one of the most powerful orgasms I have ever had. As I came, I kept screaming, “Daddy! Oh God, Daddy!” The orgasm seemed like it went on for half of forever, and my pleasure pushed my boyfriend over the edge. I could hear his moans building until suddenly, he too found release. His body stiffened as his load released in my ass. We both held still for a few minutes until collapse seemed like the only option for us.

He released one of my legs and one of my arms from the restraints so I could lay on my side; he cuddled up behind me with his arm over my sweating and satisfied body. His heavy breathing was on my neck which his lips also gently brushed. I took off the blindfold and snuggled up closer to him, feeling his exhausted body pressing against mine.

One we had both recovered from the amazing orgasms we had just shared with each other, my boyfriend quipped, “I guess all the neighbors now know that my name is either Daddy or God.”

“Oh, God!” I exclaimed once again. “I was so lost in the play that I completely forgot we were in an apartment complex. I’m so sorry I was screaming so loudly.”

He laughed loudly and said, “Hey, remember? I’m an exhibitionist. I’m totally proud of the fact that my neighbors now know I can make a woman cum so hard that she screams the way you did.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” I giggled. I used my free hand to release my other hand, and then I released my one remaining restrained ankle. I rolled over so I could nuzzle my lover and kiss his lips again. My hands went to his beard, caressing and touching it with gratitude and pleasure after all we’d just shared.

Eventually we accepted that we needed to get on with our day, no matter how lovely the “nooner” had been. Four hours after I arrived and really needing to head to my last appointment of the day, I was finally leaving his place from what was supposed to be a one or two-hour fuck session. Considering our first time in bed together had lasted eight hours, we clearly were not  a couple for quickies. Even on the way out the door, we still had our hands and lips all over each other.

As I stepped onto the front porch, I turned back and put my arms around my lover’s shoulders. I gave him a deep kiss, and he returned the kiss. Something felt wrong, though. It took me a couple of kisses before I realized what it was.

“I’m not wearing any shoes,” I suddenly said to my boyfriend.

He looked down at my feet. “No, you’re not,” he laughed. “Maybe you should come back in and fix that problem.” And so I came back in his apartment, slipped on the shoes I had kicked off by the door on the way in, and headed back out the door for a second goodbye.

“You know it was a really great session when your boyfriend fucks you so well that forget to put on your shoes when you leave,” I said as I smiled and laughed. With that, I gave him one final kiss and headed back to my car with my bag of sex toys to face the real world again.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

BDSM Test Results

I periodically take the test at bdsmtest.org since my sexuality is still evolving. It’s interesting what changes and what is a bit off in the results. The latest results show that I am:

100% Brat
100% Rope bunny
97% Submissive
51% Ageplayer
50% Experimentalist
47% Vanilla
42% Slave
40% Voyeur
34% Masochist
33% Primal (Prey)
33% Boy/Girl
31% Switch
30% Rigger
19% Exhibitionist
8% Dominant
1% Pet
1% Master/Mistress
1% Daddy/Mommy
0% Degradee
0% Primal (Hunter)
0% Degrader
0% Owner
0% Sadist
0% Non-monogamist

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

S&M and Reign

Spoiler Alert: Contains major plot information from Season 3, Episode 7 (“The Hound and the Hare”) of Reign.

As I was watching Reign on Netflix, I was tantalized by the promises of the writers. Prince Don Carlos, suitor of Queen Mary of Scotland, was rumored in the courts to have a horrible sexual predilection. His wild and crazy desires ended his courtship of an Austrian suitor. So what is this ghastly sexual desire? He is a masochist who likes to be whipped by his partner. I was a bit disappointed at such a mild revelation.

Of course, the prince is no average kinkster in this fictional portrayal. He travels with his own “sex horse.” It’s a bulky bench which a person can be strapped to while sitting, and it’s an odd-looking sex toy. I’m not sure who came up with it for the show, but clearly it was not someone who has extensive experience in BDSM. It’s certainly not a contraption that is easily portable in the days of horse and carriage travel, and there are easier ways to do bondage and whipping, even in the 16th century!

As Prince Don Carlos tries to cement a betrothal with Queen Mary, he reveals his sexual desires to her. She is not horrified, but she doesn’t understand his needs and why pain equals pleasures for him. After a bit of convincing from Queen Mother Catherine de Medici of France, Queen Mary agrees to a play session with Prince Don Carlos to see if she can dominate him in the way he needs and firm up a royal betrothal she so desperately needs. (Of course, the word dominate is never used in the script.)

As Mary discusses this with Catherine, Mary just can’t come to a place of comfort with the idea of dominating a man. Catherine, a sadistic woman, has no issues whatsoever with torturing a lover for sexual pleasure (or for political reasons). Thus, a royal plan is hatched. Once Mary has Don Carlos secured to the bench, she blindfolds him and lets Catherine in the room to do the actual dominating.

Don Carlos asks Mary to grab the whip– at which point she picks up a flogger that is sitting between his legs. I found myself thinking, “Really? No one who worked on the script or set knew the difference between a whip and a flogger?” I find that very hard to believe. Surely they could have consulted with someone from the BDSM world? Or even a Google search?

After Catherine has begun flogging (not whipping!) the bound Don Carlos’ chest, Mary can’t handle watching the event. When Mary screams out for Catherine to stop, Don Carlos becomes aware of the presence of the third person in the room. He responds (rightly so) with outrage. He feels that he has been betrayed by Mary for revealing his sexual secrets to a person he didn’t chose to trust, and he is greatly afraid of being exposed as “deviant” by Catherine. These are valid fears.

What’s most important, though, is that what Mary did was a consent violation. Consent is crucial to a healthy BDSM relationship, but Mary clearly did not know that nor did Don Carlos explain it to her. He simply trusted her. Perhaps consent was not part of the BDSM discussion in the 16th century, but it is part of the dialog today. Since Reign regularly ignores history in its storylines, costuming, and music, the show could have easily brought up consent but chose not to.

Overall, I was disappointed with how this mainstream portrayal of BDSM played out. So much more could have been done to make the scene accurate and educational, but instead, a poor vanilla misinterpretation of kink was portrayed.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

Violating Hard Limits

In the world of BDSM, hard limits are the things that you absolutely will not do. Hard limits vary from person to person. For instance, I’ve mentioned before that choking is a hard limit of mine. I refuse to engage in any kind of sexual asphyxiation activities, though for many others these are some of their favorite activities. In contrast, I love anal sex and am happy to engage in it, both giving and receiving. For the majority of women, anal sex is a hard limit.

When a former partner of mine violated my hard limits in multiple kinky ways, I was initially in shock. I didn’t understand how this man I trusted could do these things to me. He was a loving person toward me, so what was causing him to treat me with so little respect? When I asked him, he couldn’t explain it to me. I have since theorized that he has a fetish of violating women’s hard limits that stems back to his incredibly toxic relationship with his mother who violated his limits repeatedly. Perhaps his subconscious is taking it out on the women he dates since he doesn’t see a therapist to work on his major issues with his mother. Regardless of why he did it, though, this past partner violated my limits, and he knew what he had done was wrong in the aftermath.

The bottom line is that violating hard limits is sexual abuse. This is not something I’ve often seen explicitly expressed in the writing around hard limits that I’ve read. I’m sure it’s in part because the BDSM community is loath to associate anything they do with abuse. The vanilla world already struggles to understand how kinky people can enjoy things like spanking and bondage and how those things can be consensual and enjoyable.

Yet violation of hard limits is something that can happen in vanilla sex as well as kinky sex. The violations that this partner did to me were well within the kinky range, but I have had another past partner who violated my limits in very vanilla ways. When I told that man no, he would try the forbidden activity anyway because he didn’t really respect my feelings about it. He didn’t see why that activity was a problem for me, and his narcissism kept him from caring when his orgasm was his ultimate goal at that point.

Whether it’s done in a kinky situation or a vanilla one, violating someone’s hard limits is absolutely not ok. No means no. Yes means yes, and a yes should be given enthusiastically—a “fuck yes!” to any mutually agreed upon activity. When a partner crosses those limits, sexual abuse happens. Sexual abuse is NEVER ok. It doesn’t matter what the sexual abuse looks like. It’s a very clear violation of that person’s rights.

If a partner ever violates your hard limits, talk about it with the partner if it was a minor violation that might have come from a miscommunication. We’re all human, and mistakes do happen in the passion of the moment in sexual acts. However, if violations happen repeatedly, that’s not an accident. That’s sexual abuse. At that point, it’s time to leave the relationship if it is just a casual dating one. If it’s a marriage or committed relationship, a therapist is mandated at that point if you don’t choose to end things without further outside help. Regardless, drastic action needs to happen because sexual abuse is never ok.

I pray often for the new partner of the man who repeatedly violated my kinky limits. He says he has learned from what he did to me and has changed. Those are famous last words. Sometimes they are true. Often they are not. However, his new partner is very young—barely legal—and I know she isn’t going to have the strength to leave him if he starts sexually abusing her the way he did to me. I didn’t have the strength to leave the man who would sexually abuse me within the context of our consensual sexual relationship when I was her age. I didn’t even understand that what he was doing was abuse. Now, I’m clear on it, and no man will treat me that way again.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

Coping with the Lies

When I broke up with one of my past sexual partners, it was not the friendly breakup I had hoped for with him. We both knew the relationship was not going to last long because there were too many differences between us. However, we liked each other and had a good time together both in and out of bed. We decided to spend time together while things worked, and when they quit working, we’d break up amicably.

Unfortunately, he began lying to me before, during and after the breakup. Some of them were little things that didn’t matter. Others were much larger including the fact that he had started wooing his next lover while we were dating monogamously though he hadn’t had sex yet with her before our breakup. To me, though, lies are lies. Avoiding the truth is no better than a lie; in my book, they’re the opposite sides of the same coin. When I figure out people are lying to me or hiding the truth from me, I lose all respect for them. It kills the trust I have for them and ultimately destroys our relationship.

One of the bigger lies this lover told me was that he didn’t have a choking fetish. In my opinion, choking is not SSC, and it’s not something I’m even remotely willing to entertain. This is a fact that I shared clearly with this lover beginning with the very first online conversation we had. At that time, he told me that it wasn’t something he was into, but rather it was something he had just done before because two past partners of his were into it. He claimed he had to be convinced to do it but wasn’t comfortable with it.

For me, I don’t even like having my partner’s hand on the front of my throat, something I also made clear to this lover once we were involved. However, time and again my lover would try to put his hand on the front of my throat. I would remove it and redirect it to the back of my neck, reminding him I wasn’t comfortable with his actions. Despite my protests, it didn’t stop him from trying to put his hand there repeatedly. He gave me the excuse (or in other terms, the lie), “I just think a man putting his hand on the front of a woman’s neck is incredibly sexy.” Yet when we broke up, I spent some time perusing Tumblr account. There for anyone to see was photo after photo of men choking women during sex. Clearly it wasn’t just a fetish of his past partners, but he couldn’t own up to his own desires. Rather, he felt it was necessary to lie to me about his desires that were in conflict with my hard limits.

Because I live in a smaller town, I ran into another ex-lover of my ex-lover one day while out and about. I asked her to help explain this guy to me because weeks after our breakup I still hadn’t been able to understand him completely. I needed to understand why he treated me the way he did and why he lied to me the way he did. She told me that his underlying character flaw was that he was always the victim in his mind: Nothing would ever be his fault. Given that I had been married to a man for more than ten years who also loved to play the victim, I was surprised I hadn’t seen that commonality.

However, when I stopped and thought about it, I realized that her explanation made sense. Every lie he told me was one to defer the blame from himself. He couldn’t be responsible enough to own up to his own behavior. To me, that’s a major sign of immaturity. Even when he violated my hard limits, it was something he tried to excuse or blame on others. That’s just not ok. Even though I had hoped that this former lover and I would stay friends after our break up, that was no longer an option for me when I realized I couldn’t trust him anymore. The truth matters an awful lot to me, and he had shown it wasn’t as important to him.

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